I chuckled, pushing a sandwich into his grasp. But my heart stumbled as I tried to figure out the best way to frame my question. Now I was the one holding back: I hadn’t told Dothan about my conversation with Nathaniel. So I certainly couldn’t mention Nathaniel had implied Dothan might have died trying to kill an archangel.
“Is it that bad?” His brows pulled together as he waited for me to speak.
“No, no. It’s about your…strength.”
He froze. “Did I hurt you?” Anguish filled his voice.
I shook my head vigorously. “Oh, no. I meant your mental strength—like your ability to control the current, for example.”
His wide shoulders slumped with relief. “So my weakness, really.” One side of his mouth pulled up as he started on his sandwich.
I stared at the bag of food resting between my crossed legs. “Well, the thing is, in order to get good at something, you need to practice.” Fishing out a bottle of water, I picked at the plastic wrapped around the top.
He shrugged, chewing. “Yeah, that might be difficult.” His eyes drifted over to a cardboard box in the corner, where Tom the cat had set up residence. The big tabby arched his back in a luxuriant stretch as he emerged from his nap.
I took a deep breath. “I want you to practice on me.”
Dothan’s amber eyes grew wide, then turned dark as they narrowed. “Absolutely not.”
“Why? I’m willing. Think about it—you need to become better at blocking the current. If we’re a couple, we’re going to end up around more people eventually. And you could go to school too, become a vet…and live without the constant fear of being exposed.”
“It’s not worth it. I can guarantee it will hurt you, and I don’t even know how much. Forget it. I have ways of dealing with the current.”
I had anticipated resistance, and I mentally flipped through my arguments. “Those things might work one time, on one person. But you can’t constantly pretend you’re sick or charged up with static electricity and not arouse suspicion.” Leaning forward for emphasis, I nailed him with as fierce a gaze as I could manage. “Besides, this isn’t just about the current. What if you need to defend yourself against someone stronger than you? I’m worried, Dothan. There’s a whole host of powerful supernatural beings out there: archangels, Fallen, the Divine Council. I’d rest a whole lot easier if I knew you could easily draw power from another source.”
“Not happening.”
“Please! I barely slept last night, Dothan. I love you, and you could be in danger. I’m begging you to at least try. For my sake.”
His biceps bunched as he pushed his hair behind his ear. “I shouldn’t have said that stuff the other day,” he muttered.
I sensed the slightest weakening of his resolve. “Look. How many times have you helped me? This is something I can do to help you. Please, please let me.”
Tom sprang lightly from the floor onto the mattress. Rubbing against my side, he continued on to investigate the sandwich resting against Dothan’s knee. Dothan tore off a piece of deli ham and fed it to the cat. “You’ve already helped me more than you could know, Jamie,” he said, his voice low.
“I’m glad. I love you, and I want to help you.” Here we go, I thought. Guilt twisted in my chest, but I forged ahead. “What do you think it would do to me if something happened to you? And if that doesn’t convince you, how about this: what if you need to defend me from some of those supernatural beings? I mean, I get that the good angels can’t hurt me, but what about the Fallen? Their name sort of implies they wouldn’t be against harming a human.”
His full lips pressed into a hard line. He swore under his breath, absent-mindedly offering the cat another piece of ham. “You need to eat,” he pointed out, gesturing with his chin toward my untouched sandwich.
I unwrapped it eagerly. “You’re right. And so do you. We shouldn’t practice on empty stomachs.”
Dothan glared at me, but he took a big bite. Tensed muscles rippled along his neck as he swallowed. “Have I mentioned you’re persistent?”
Smiling triumphantly, I started on my lunch. As we ate, I chattered on about horse shows I might enter. But under my hopefully cool exterior, anxiety whipped my nerves into a frenzy. I had no doubt Dothan was right; this was going to hurt, possibly a great deal. I couldn’t remember the exact feeling of his first attempt at tapping into my psyche, but I did know it hadn’t been pleasant.
I looked at him expectantly when we’d finished. “Ready?” Setting my water bottle on the floor, I crawled over the mattress to rest my back against the wall. Tom shot me a disdainful look and sauntered back to his box.
Faint worry lines etched themselves into Dothan’s forehead. “This is a bad idea,” he said. But he positioned himself across from me, folding his long legs under so that our knees touched.
“Are you calling one of my ideas bad?”
He dropped his head and shook it in defeat, sending his long hair swaying. The word “impossible” surfaced among several other unintelligible phrases. “What exactly do you want me to do?” he finally asked, blowing out a breath.
“Try to draw some energy from me. I’ll open my mind to you, or try at least, and you see if you can use that to help control the current. Then touch me to test it.”
His troubled gaze searched mine. “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” I laid my open palm on our joined knees. “Ready when you are.” I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on sharing any mental powers I might possess.
I felt the intrusion; tentative fingers poked at my brain. Oh, God. The initial spark of pain quickly grew into a flame, and I ground my teeth together.
His hand settled on mine, and the current flowed between us. The voltage wavered like flickering lights.
“It worked! A little, anyway.” The fire in my head receded as I opened my eyes, and the electricity flowing between our skin returned to its normal strength. The pulse in his wrist raced beneath my fingertips.
“Great. Let’s practice something more fun now.” Dimples flashed as a devious grin spread across his face.
“Not a chance. You can do better. I could tell you were holding back. I think it helps that I’m trying to be receptive, but you really have to give it your all this time.”
He sighed, pulling his hand away. “And then we can give this a rest?”
“I promise. As long as you really try.” I closed my eyes again and nodded.
An ice pick of agony plunged into my skull. I clamped my mouth shut against a scream as I pressed my back into the wall. Dothan grasped my hand, and through a haze of red I was vaguely aware his touch held no shock. It worked. The remainder of my conscious thoughts drained away, and I slumped sideways.
“Jamie!” Dothan yelled as he caught me.
“I’m okay,” I lied. Wow, that had hurt. But I couldn’t let him see how much. “I just got a little dizzy when you went full strength there.”
He pulled me forward, pinning me against his body with one arm as he reached for my water bottle. “Here.” Placing the water in my hand, he shifted around so my back leaned against his solid chest. “I’m so sorry. We are never doing that again.”
I took a drink, trying desperately to control my shaking fingers. “Oh, yes, we are. It worked—no current. Now we know it can be done in an emergency.”
He ignored me, lowering me down so my head was cradled in his lap. “How’s your head?” Smoothing my hair back, he touched my temples lightly. “Does this hurt?”
My skin tingled. “No, it feels good. But, honestly, the pain wasn’t that bad.” Compared to say, an actual ax buried in my brain. “I’ll get used to it.”
“No, you won’t,” he said, his voice like steel.
“I have to. A little headache is a small price to pay for that kind of power.” I craned my neck to take a drink.
He reached for a pillow and tucked it under my head as I lay back down. “A little headache? I’m not sure I believe that.”
�
�It’s no big deal. Besides, headaches don’t really bother me.”
His hands tightened in my curls. “You’re a teenage girl who doesn’t listen to music to avoid headaches. I’d say they bother you.”
Crap. How did he remember that? The throbbing behind my eyes intensified, and I grimaced before I could stop myself.
Apparently he noticed. “Is it getting worse?”
“No. I…ah…feel bad because I sort of lied about the music thing.” Time to come clean, or Dothan might really never practice on me again.
“You…what? I know I’m not the poster boy for normal, but that’s a strange thing to lie about.”
“Yeah, I know.” I sighed. “The truth is just sort of weird and embarrassing.”
“You don’t have to tell me.” His fingers resumed a circular motion against my temples.
“No, it’s fine. Besides, you’ve shared all your secrets, and apparently mine are pretty lame in comparison.”
He chuckled. “Okay, if you’re sure you’re up for it.”
“I’m fine, really. And it’s time for me to get over this stuff anyway.” I lodged my hands under my back to keep my cuticles safe. “You know my dad left us a week after I was born. Growing up, my mom would talk to me about anything—except for him. She refused to share any information about my father; so to me, he was this mysterious figure. In my imagination, he had a very good and noble reason for leaving.”
“Secret government mission?”
I exhaled, chewing on my lip. “Exactly. By freshman year, I felt I was old enough to handle the truth. I pushed and pushed. Hard. So, my mom finally cracked. My dad wasn’t a spy. He was a drummer in a rock band that played around the D.C. area. When my mom got pregnant, he found some dump for the two of them to live in together. But a kid wasn’t on his agenda, and then his band got some great opportunity to tour with a bigger group, and that was that. He took off.”
Lips pressed against my forehead. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. Not once I heard that story, anyway. What a piece of crap. But my mother wouldn’t divulge any personal information about him—his name, his band—she didn’t want me to go looking, I guess. So the only thing I could take out my anger on was music. Rock music with drums, specifically.” I released my hands and rubbed the sting from my eyes. “So stupid.”
“No,” he said softly. “I get it.”
The pain migrated from my head to my heart. Dothan’s beloved father had been murdered, and here I was, wasting emotions on some loser who refused to grow up. “I know you do. It’s just so pathetic. I mean, I love riding, but I can guarantee I’d never choose it over my own daughter.”
“I know you wouldn’t. You’re a much better person than he is. But you still get to grieve over what you lost, Jamie.”
“I guess. But I need to figure out a more productive way.” His palms slid down to rub the curve where my neck met my shoulders, and I pointed my toes as pleasure chased the last of the pain away. “Hmm. The worst part is, I have a feeling his name was Jamie, or James, or maybe Jim…something you said made me realize I might have been named after him. My mother probably didn’t want to go through the hassle of changing it after he bolted. Maybe she even believed he might come back. But I can’t hate my own name. And I shouldn’t give him the power to make me hate music.”
He shifted slightly. “You can’t help what you feel.”
“Well, I can try. If I plan on living in a dorm someday, I’m going to hear music. So it’s something I’d better get used to.” A shiver danced up my spine as his thumbs traced the line of my jaw. “I just wanted you to know that I don’t avoid music because it gives me headaches. I avoid it because it makes me want to take a baseball bat to the speakers.”
He laughed with enough force to make the pillow shake. “Wow. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
I giggled along with him. “Perfect. The way you stay on my good side is by agreeing to more practice in the future. We can work on our issues together: you can practice enhancing your abilities, and I can practice listening to music without getting infuriated.”
His thumbs kneaded the back of my neck. “Very clever. But I don’t love that plan. Both of those things result in pain on your part.”
“You’ll just have to keep giving me massages,” I suggested.
Chapter 30
A loud knock on the door leading to the staircase made me jump off my bed, spilling chemistry notes to the floor. My heart slammed as I surveyed the mess. Crap. “Nathaniel?” I called out. Obviously it had to be Nathaniel, but the fact that he’d come up to my apartment was an ominous sign.
“Come in!” I glanced at the clock: only 5:15 p.m. Dinner was still two hours away, and there were plenty of leftovers from last night. Sam’s mom had brought us a huge lasagna to help make yesterday a little easier, at least from a cooking standpoint. Tonight all I needed to do was heat up a few pieces, and Nathaniel and I could enjoy another uncomfortable meal together.
He appeared in the doorway of my bedroom, wearing a sky blue polo under a gray jacket. His cheeks were slightly red, possibly from the autumn chill that crept into the air each evening. But I had a feeling his high color had more to do with his emotional state, because anger rolled off of him in barely-controlled waves.
Alarm bells clanged in my head. I sat back down on my bed, a stack of study guides in my trembling hand. “What is it?” I breathed.
“I’ve been to see Dothan,” he announced.
“You…what?” My mind reeled. I’d only been home from the barn myself for two hours. And when I’d pulled up, Nathaniel’s car had been sitting in the driveway. He must have left for Fox Run as soon as I’d returned home.
“I went to the stable to speak with Dothan. About your relationship. I’m sorry, Jamie, but it can’t happen, for a number of reasons. Despite my warnings, I could see he wasn’t quite convinced.”
“Good,” I spat angrily. I assumed Nathaniel’s version of “see” could be taken quite literally, since he could read Dothan’s mind when they were face-to-face. Oh, God—what else did he learn about our relationship? Heat charged up my neck even as cold sweat gathered under my arms.
Nathaniel’s lips tightened into a thin line as he shook his head slowly. “Not good. He needs some time to realize what I said makes sense. So, I can’t have you running over there tonight.”
My mouth dropped open. “You’re banning me from Fox Run?”
He crossed his arms with a sigh. “For now. Especially at night. There are things happening that I can’t discuss.”
“But…my horse. Riding.” Weak sentence fragments were all I seemed able to manage.
“I know. We’ll figure it out. But for now, it’s my job to keep you safe. That’s what I signed up for when I became your guardian, and you’re still seventeen. So while I realize this is going to sound harsh, based on the events of the last month, I’m going to ask you to give me your car keys for the night.”
I stared at him in disbelief. How had our level of trust deteriorated to this? I had the urge to throw all my papers back on the floor, but that wouldn’t solve much. Instead, I slapped the stack onto my bed and stood up, ready to argue. But my initial denial died in my throat—if I had my car keys, I would go see Dothan. Immediately. In fact, I might never come back. Screw the periodic table of elements.
Instead, I went on the attack. “So all of the sudden you’re going to act like a concerned parent? Where was that concern for Dothan when you agreed to make him an orphan at eighteen?” As soon as the words escaped, nausea churned through my belly. But I planted my fists on my hips, glaring defiantly as I waited for an answer.
“Careful,” Nathaniel warned, his eyes flashing emerald fire. “Dothan was granted eighteen years with his father. It was a kindness to wait until he was a legal adult before leaving him on his own.”
My gaze drifted from Nathaniel’s thunderous expression to the stack of birthday bracelets sitting on my dresser. No. My mind resisted
, but my thoughts barreled toward a sickening conclusion.
Dothan’s mother had died giving birth…Dothan’s father was held responsible…but to kill him immediately would have left a huge problem: the baby. Killing a half human baby violated divine law, but leaving a half angel baby to be raised by normal people risked exposure.
So they allowed Dothan’s father to live for 18 years, until Dothan became a legal adult. Then the Divine Council’s twisted justice was served. And once again, the day of Dothan’s birth became the anniversary of his parent’s death. Oh, God. That was what he’d meant by there being “more to the story” on that rainy day in the hayloft.
My stomach cramped violently, and I grabbed my abdomen. “Get out!” I yelled at Nathaniel. Bile burned the back of my throat as I raced past him toward the bathroom. “Leave me alone!” I slammed the door and fell to my knees in front of the toilet. Tears trickled down my face as I emptied the meager contents of my stomach into the bowl.
A soft tap came at the door. “Are you all right, Jamie?”
“Just leave me alone,” I called out between retches, forcing myself to leave “please” out of my request. “My keys are on the kitchen counter,” I added bitterly as I bent my head again.
I couldn’t bring myself to skip an exam, which was unfortunate, because I bombed it. What was I thinking? Even after the nausea had passed, I’d been too upset to study. As the sky darkened and my texts to Dothan went unanswered, my panic level rose to new heights. And I was trapped in my apartment. Even if I ran over to Sam’s, she didn’t have a car I could borrow. And I just couldn’t see trying to borrow one of her parents’ vehicles—even if I convinced them my own car wouldn’t start, Nathaniel’s car would still be perfectly visible from their living room window. They loved me, but they weren’t going to buy engine trouble as a communicable disease that had affected our entire household.
Thankfully, my keys had been waiting for me on Nathaniel’s kitchen table this morning. I’d holed up in my apartment all night, skipping dinner and finally resorting to a late-night bowl of cereal when my hands began to shake from hunger. But I’d been forced to venture downstairs this morning in order to find out how I was getting to school; I’d sighed with relief to find only my keys waiting for me.
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