by Kat Adams
He hooked his knuckle under my chin, lifting my head to pull my focus back to him. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?” I dropped my gaze again.
“That. You’re the first to look away whenever we make eye contact. Don’t like what you see?” He waggled his eyebrows.
I laughed softly. “That’s not it at all.”
I loved what I saw every time I looked at him. It was more than his wild brown hair and soft beard, more than his brilliant emerald gaze and dazzling smile. Or his high cheekbones and ridiculously fit physique. Although all those physical traits had attracted me to him originally, it was what I saw when I looked at him, now that I knew him so well, that overwhelmed my senses.
His sense of humor. The fact that if he didn’t make the group laugh together at least twice in a twenty-four-hour period, he considered the day a total loss. How he always carried my book bag without hesitation, never asking if I wanted him to, just taking on the burden for me. His fierce loyalty to the quad squad and to me. His willingness to fight anyone stupid enough to threaten his family.
Above all that, it was his vulnerability that pulled at my heart the most. He was tough on the surface, blew off any level of seriousness with the crack of a wildly inappropriate joke, and pushed people away by purposely annoying them. But I knew the truth. He didn’t want to alienate himself and had found a band of brothers who wouldn’t allow him to detach from the group.
Clay Williams was scared of failure.
Scared he’d fail his genius parents even though he had an IQ of 192 and was a genius in his own right. Scared he’d fail the quad squad by letting them down on an extraction or anything else they’d do together. Scared he’d fail to protect me when I’d need him most.
“Then what is it?” he asked, drawing my attention back to his endless pools of green.
“Why did the four of you make a pact to be with me?” I’d never asked the question, and, deep down, I really didn’t care. The fact remained, they were with me, and that was all that mattered. But pushing him to answer something he didn’t want to took the heat off me.
“Why do you think? Do you want me to list the reasons? We all have a thing for redheads.” He released my ginger locks from the messy ponytail holding them off my face, setting the waves free to fall past my shoulders. “We love the way you challenge us in everything we do. And I do mean everything.” He winked and kissed the tip of my nose. “Or maybe it’s the fact we have a thing for girls who don’t take any shit from anyone, including us. You’re the whole package, Montana. That’s why.”
Flattery would get him everywhere. And I do mean everywhere. I leaned toward him, resting our foreheads together. “While I love everything you just said, I call bullshit. You guys didn’t know me when you made the pact. You agreed to be with the same girl long before you met me.”
“So? We knew you were out there somewhere and made the pact that, once we found you, we’d be all in. It took Bry a bit to come around, but he made the right choice dumping that ice bitch. We all made sacrifices.”
That surprised me. Bryan breaking up with Vanessa had been the only sacrifice I knew of. “Such as?”
“You already know Bry’s sacrifice, though not having to be stuck with Vanessa Graves wasn’t much of a sacrifice, if you ask me. Rob cut all ties with the girls in his little black book.” Clay tilted his head and hit me with a serious look. “Yes, he had a little black book. No lie. Leo’s sacrifice was bigger after we met you. He broke every one of his rules for you.”
“He did?”
“Oh, sure. He teleported for you. He did magic for you. He covered it up for you. Should I go on?”
I shook my head. “What about you? What was your sacrifice?”
He laughed, the sound soft and melodic. “You make me want to grow up,” he said in all seriousness.
I lost what little smile I had as his words sank in. Was that a bad thing? Or good thing? I didn’t know. “I don’t understand.”
“Maybe I should show you.” He leaned in, capturing my lips with his. His kiss sank into me as our elements found each other, bonding us together so much more than just in a physical sense. He laid me down on the prickly grass. I wanted to call earth and soften the makeshift bed, but couldn’t while touching Clay without hurting him, since he couldn’t control that element.
So I endured the sharp blades of grass poking me in the back as I focused on Clay’s kiss, on the way his soft beard tickled my face, on the deep connection we had every time we touched. The air danced around us in celebration, as it did every time we bonded. He opened my shirt and kissed the flat of my stomach as he slowly ran his hand up my thigh and under my skirt. The shelter of the grove hid us away from the possibility of any prying eyes.
When he brushed his fingers across the already soaked fabric of my panties, he chuckled. “Someone’s a little wet.”
“Someone’s a little slow taking care of that.” My clit throbbed, eager for attention.
“So bossy. Here, let me see what I can do about that. We won’t be needing these.” With a quick yank, he removed my panties. I laughed and kissed him.
His fingers explored, running up and down my slit, mixing my juices around and drawing more from my body. I adjusted to give him better access and arched my back when an exceptionally sharp rock dug into my spine. Clay picked up on it and rolled us, placing himself between the ground and me.
I straddled his hips and worked the button and zipper on his pants, reaching in and stroking his already nice, hard cock. He groaned and dug his fingers into my hips, lifting me. I pushed his pants to his knees and rolled my hips. The tip of his cock slipped into my slick entrance. We both froze and gasped as my body adjusted.
“Montana,” he growled and worked his flesh inside me, stretching me, filling me completely. I threw my head back and moaned. Sex with Clay was usually fun, light, and very, very energetic. This time, however, was slow, deep, more passionate than I’d ever experienced with him. His expression, usually relaxed and playful, had transformed to something so much more. He was, dare I say, serious. Deliberate with his every move. He wouldn’t break eye contact, which imprisoned me, forcing me to stare right back. It was intense, so intense I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. He had that power over me right now.
I rocked my hips, whimpering into his mouth as we drove each other closer to a whole different kind of edge. My big O was building fast, and I moved more deliberately. He thrust harder, deeper, and I cried out each time he slammed our hips together, burying his body into mine. Our element spun around us, lifting loose grass and fir needles into the air. We moved faster. Our elements matched our pace, strengthening along with the steady build of my climax.
And then it crashed down on me, shattering my bones. Clay stiffened as his release took over. The air lifted us from the ground, spinning us around as we rode the waves. I pushed my element to him, which didn’t drain me nearly as much as it did him when the roles reversed. But it did drain me. At least I had four other elements to keep me company while my air call recharged.
Sparks of yellow crackled, blending with the air twisting around us. As soon as my air call transferred to him, he thrust deep and fast, like he’d just gotten a shot of cocaine. Over and over, he plunged hard, his pace incredible. Another orgasm hit me, and I dug my nails into his shoulder, the wave of pleasure so strong, I saw stars. His shirt protected him from me piercing the skin, which had happened on more than one occasion.
He grunted as he erupted and kissed me so intensely, so passionately, that I lost myself in him. We kissed. And we kissed. And we kissed. Only when neither of us could breathe did we pull apart.
“What,” I gasped, “was that?”
“You recharged me. Getting a dose of your call is like taking a hit of pure air adrenaline. It’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever felt.”
“The most incredible thing?” I wiggled on his lap.
He shrugged and kissed me. “Well, it comes a close secon
d. Lower us down.”
I did, not realizing I’d been the one to call air and lift us ten feet off the ground. He kissed me one last time before standing and pulling me to my feet. Once we tracked down my panties and righted our clothes, he took my hand, a wicked grin sending his beautiful green eyes into a dance.
I knew better than to trust that look. “What are you about to do?”
“This.” He teleported us without warning, popping us back into the same grove, but on the opposite side. I pressed my hand to my stomach as it did somersaults. “And this.” He did it again without giving me a chance to recover from the first one, this time landing us back in the same spot we started. “And this again.”
“Clay—” was the only protest I got out before he teleported us yet again, popping us around the grove. I’d given up attempting to recover from the feeling of my insides being pulled outside my body.
“Now you try.”
After my last teleport and totally almost dying—I still firmly believed that—I had zero confidence in my ability to stick the landing. “How about we head back to Clearwater? It’s starting to get dark.”
“I’ll protect you from the monsters lurking in the shadows.” He knew how I felt about the dark after what happened in the ruins. “Come on. Just one teleport. Let’s see how you do.”
With a reluctant sigh, knowing he wouldn’t let it go until I gave teleporting another shot, I nodded and concentrated on a spot on the other side of the grove. I called air and braced myself. The void swallowed me, and an instant later, I popped out in the exact spot I’d wanted. Hallelujah. Maybe me screwing up my landing was a fluke. I tried again and popped right next to Clay.
“You need to master teleporting yourself before you let anyone hitch a ride. Observe.” He popped in and out several times, each time reappearing in a total vogue pose and smug expression like he was posing for the camera.
“Showoff.” I sighed, feeling the drain from transferring my call to him and then teleporting so many times. My hand ached, reminding me of the deep gash in my palm. It’d begun to close up, but still hurt like the dickens. “Stop already. One of us needs to have enough juice to teleport us back to the academy.”
He lost his smile and tilted his head, studying me intently. “Are you that drained?”
I answered with a shrug, not wanting to admit how weak I felt.
With a nod, he finally conceded. “You win. Let’s head back. Take my hand.”
I reached for him but was blasted backward, all the way through the grove, and out the other side toward the edge of the cliff. I landed hard on my tailbone and had to fight to stand. Jesus holy hell, that hurt. I faced the grove, ready to take out the dark elemental that’d found us, and frowned.
No one was there.
I drew in a breath to call for Clay when a very distinctive scent caught in my senses. Sniffing the air, I froze, panting in fear. I knew that smell. I still had nightmares of the dark elemental whose call reminded me of decaying copper pipes. This was a little different, more like burnt human hair, but the death stench was unmistakable as it invaded my nostrils and stung my eyes.
Only one elemental I knew carried that scent in his calls. But it couldn’t be him. He was dead.
“Montana!” Clay rushed out of the grove and over to me. “Are you okay?”
I continued to stare straight ahead, searching the shadows of the trees for the monster I thought I’d killed last year. “It’s him.”
“Who?” He glanced over his shoulder, searching the same spot.
“Alec.”
He stiffened and whipped around to search the shadows again. “No way. You killed him. Are you sure?”
“I’d recognize the scent of his call anywhere.”
A monster of a fireball came flying out of the grove, sending us in opposite directions as we dove for cover. Neither of us recovered before we were thrust into the air and hurled at each other. I called air, but it didn’t respond. Clay called as well. At least his element responded and softened the blow, but it didn’t stop us from colliding. I bit my tongue when our heads smacked together.
And then we dropped.
I bounced twice when I hit the unforgiving ground, smacking my head again. The world tilted as I pushed to my knees. I looked for Clay, to reach him and teleport out, but it was like a fog had everything out of focus. I blinked several times, trying to clear my vision. That was when I realized the fog wasn’t in my head.
A thick gray haze had rolled in, low and ominous, snuffing out the light and making it impossible to see. I stood and turned in circles, reaching out and feeling nothing. “Clay!”
“Montana!” He returned my shout with his own. Shit. He sounded so far away. I swung my arms, trying—and failing—to clear away the dense fog. I took another step and caught myself before I fell forward when my foot met nothing but air. I’d reached the edge of the cliff.
“Be careful,” I yelled. “We’re close to the ledge.”
“Teleport back to the academy.”
I tried, focusing on the statue in the center of the round. Nothing happened. “I can’t. I must be too drained.” And now I was trapped in a soupy sea of clouds with the not-dead Alec von Leer.
“That’s not it. I tried too. Something is blocking our call. Let’s keep talking. We’ll find each other.”
“Where’d this fog come from? It was clear a minute ago.”
“A simple blend of air and water,” he replied, sounding even farther away. “We practiced making it my first year at the academy. Though I’ve never seen it this thick. Or so dark. It’s low, like the kind of fog made from dry ice.”
I moved in the direction of his voice. “Call air, and see if you can clear it out.”
“Already tried that. As soon as I open a path, more fog rolls in and closes it. Call fire, see if we can use it as a beacon for me to find you.”
I did, conjuring up a meager fireball. Why was my fire call so weak? A noise behind me had me whipping around. I swear I spotted a shadow streak past, barely disturbing the fog. “Who’s there?”
“Montana?” He was most definitely farther away now. “Is that you?”
Another streak, followed by a menacing growl that was neither human or beast. What the hell was out there? I whipped around again, my hands at the ready with a fireball hovering above each palm. When something brushed my hair, I spun and launched one of the balls of flames. It went flying and quickly disappeared in the intense mist.
“Clay? There’s something more than us in this fog.”
“What’d you just say? Montana? Can you hear me?”
“Clay?” I shouted louder.
“Montana?” His voice barely cut through the dense air. “Katy!”
“Clay? Clay!” I could no longer hear him. The fact he’d used my real name instead of his nickname for me sent my pulse skyrocketing. As if I wasn’t already close to stroking out, knowing my powerful air elemental found the situation serious enough to drop the pet name now had me freaking out even more.
Since my air element was being a stubborn dick, I called more fire, trying to counter the water particles. It didn’t work. I then called water to draw in from the fog. That too didn’t work. I called to the trees. “Please help us.”
I felt more than saw them begin to dance just as they’d done at my tribunal. They swayed, back and forth, back and forth. I found myself swaying with them. Or maybe they swayed with me. Regardless, we kept perfect time, moving faster and creating enough wind to break through the soupy fog. It began to dissipate.
I was in the zone, dancing with the trees, and didn’t see what was now barreling toward me until Clay shouted, “Montana! Look out!”
A tree branch came out of nowhere and clotheslined me, sending me flying back. Out of instinct and habit, I called air to catch me, but it refused to answer. What the hell was up with my element? I switched to earth and called the same tree branch that attacked me. It responded, but not the way I expected, as it came at me again
.
I jumped onto the thick trunk and rode it like a cowboy riding a prize bull. The branch bucked and jerked from side to side. I dug my nails into the wood and yelled, “Stop!”
It stilled and followed my command by slowly lowering me to the ground. I petted the bark as it moved away, staying down as if humiliated over its actions. The trees all swooped in and out, in and out, over and over until the fog completely disappeared.
Clay casually strolled up next to me, his hands in his pockets, his focus on the trees as they gradually returned to their original, majestic positions. He whistled and tossed me a sideways glance. “Still think earth isn’t your primary?”
Considering air no longer responded to my call, water still hated me, and my fire call was weak at best right now, I didn’t know what to think anymore. “How about we get out of here before whoever conjured up that fog storm makes an encore?”
“Totally agree.” He hooked me around the waist and kissed my nose. “As much as I hate to admit it, I think we might need to recruit your fandler to help us figure out what the hell that fog was and how to fight it. He’s got some mad skills.”
As much as I hated to agree, he was absolutely right.
8
“To be clear, you want me to teach you how to defend against…fog.” Spencer bounced his attention between Clay and me, his eyebrows raised, his guard clearly up. He didn’t believe us. Honestly, I didn’t blame him. I hardly believed us.
We sat in primary, groaning at Professor Geoff Gallen’s—I still couldn’t bring myself to call him GG—attempt at humor using little more than glorified dad jokes. He’d assigned a group project, so Clay and I paired up with Spencer and Jess. And yes, that was as painful as it sounded.
At least Jess was being uncharacteristically nice. No, not nice, not really. Just less of a twat waffle than typical. She kept her head down, her concentration on doodling little hearts with her and Spencer’s initials inside, the entire class. It was weird, even for her, but I’d take it. In fact, she barely said anything as Clay and I pleaded for help from a guy neither of us trusted.
