by Sara Mack
Madeline kneels to hover over me, and I find her face. “There’s still one left!” I wheeze and she smiles. She smiles. Does that mean James took care of him?
Moments later, I bite my lip and get to my feet, seriously considering another line of work. My body feels trashed in a way I never thought it could, but I can’t stay down. I need to make sure my help isn’t needed. When my eyes bounce around the room and find no threat I start to smile, but stop. Everyone is staring at me.
“What?” I ask. “Isn’t it over?”
Madeline looks at me with tears in her eyes. “It is,” she whispers. “Because of you.”
I give her a weary smile and allow my body to sag against one of the side tables that made it through the melee. Her words unlock the floodgates; the realization that we eliminated Kellan and our fight is finished begins to sink in. A surge of relief flows through me as Ash approaches.
“Are you hurt?”
I look up at him. “You’re head is as hard as a rock.”
He glances at Madeline then smiles at me. “I’ve been told that before.”
I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to find James. “You’re insane, you know that?”
I push myself off the table and into his waiting arms. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Nice aim,” he teases then kisses my hair. “You are unbelievable.”
“Do you mean my cursing or my fighting?”
“Both. You saved us.”
That’s not entirely true. “I had help.”
“Oh, Mad. Look at this mess!”
Meg’s voice gives me pause, and I step back from James. Without her I’d be dead, I know it. She protected me when no one else could. I move around James and step up to her. “I owe you,” I say sincerely. “You saved my life.”
She shakes her head and looks from my face to James, her expression softening to reveal all she feels for him. “No. I owed you.”
I give her a tiny smile and almost reach out to touch her. Instead of getting overly sentimental, I thank her again and then turn to ask Madeline where she keeps her pain pills. My back and tailbone are starting to speak. I find her and Ash engaged in a passionate kiss, so I quickly look away. My eyes fall back to Meg who is now facing James and holding both of his hands in hers. Okay. I feel a little out of place.
Suddenly, I know where I want to be. I search the room for the clock that used to hang near the window and find it on the floor. I walk toward it to consult the time. It’s almost six and the urge to see Dane overcomes me. What time did he say he would be here? Seven? I don’t want to wait another hour; there’s so much I need to tell him. Would he mind if I dropped by his place? There’s only one way to find out.
I head upstairs to call him.
“Everything all right?” Madeline asks as I pass her.
“I need to call Dane.”
“I know where he lives,” James volunteers. “Would you rather speak to him in person?”
I’m momentarily confused until he asks Mad to assist him. They take my wrists, and I feel the familiar fizzle of manifestation. This night may turn out to be special after all.
When we arrive, I find myself standing on the sidewalk outside a row of townhomes. I’m familiar with the complex; the buildings sit just outside of town. James and Mad release me and I take a step forward. “This one?” I point to #202, the door directly in front of me.
James nods, and I start up the porch stairs. On the second step, I turn around.
“Thanks for bringing me.” I smile at the two of them. “I’ll see you later?”
Madeline grins and vanishes while James lingers. “Behave yourself,” he teases and his eyes meet mine. They soften, as if he’s coming to a conclusion, and then he gives me a small wave and evaporates.
A nervous excitement starts to take over as I make my way up the stairs. I have so much to talk to Dane about; I’m going to have to pace myself. He’s going to think I’ve gone off the deep end if I start talking as fast as my heart is pounding.
I find the doorbell, press it, and then thrum my fingers anxiously as I wait. Would it be too bold to try the knob and see if it’s unlocked? I turn my ear to see if I can pick up any sound. Finally, I hear footsteps, and I try to contain the idiotic smile that breaks across my face. I seriously need to calm down.
The door is thrown open and words fall from my mouth. “I know you were supposed to come to me but I couldn’t wait and…”
I freeze. The eyes that meet mine aren’t expected.
“Well.” Teagan sizes me up. “Ding dong the witch isn’t dead.”
Chapter 21
Her statement takes a moment to process. Is it possible she knows what I’ve been through? Or is this some vague reference to the Wizard of Oz?
I read her thoughts since I don’t give two shits about being polite. They tell me I was the Wicked Witch opposite her Dorothy at a Halloween party. They also tell me that I look like a hot mess; I never bothered to check a mirror before I left. Short pieces of hair stick out from my braid in every direction, my clothes are disheveled, and my chin sports a healthy bruise. My eyes also look overly huge from finding her here. I immediately adjust my features to look more confident.
“Who is it?” Dane asks, appearing behind Teagan. Concern darts across his face when he sees me, and he anxiously brushes past his ex. “What happened?”
I take in his appearance and find it a little hard to breathe. Glancing at Teagan, I put two and two together and take a step back. The only thing Dane has on is a pair of jeans. No shirt, no socks. Teagan is wearing a Detroit Tigers tee that’s way too big for her. I know it’s his; she doesn’t strike me as the type who would pair that shirt with slacks and heels. A hard knot forms in my stomach. “I could ask you the same thing.”
Dane looks down at himself and then at me. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
My brows arch skeptically. “Then what is it?”
“She needed a file and spilled her coffee. I lent her a shirt.”
“It was a Chai tea latte,” Teagan snaps.
I ignore her and focus on Dane. “And you’re naked because?”
“I was changing clothes to come see you.” He stands inches from me and searches my face. “Are you okay?”
I give him a curt nod, still uncertain about the situation. He widens his eyes giving me permission to read his mind; instead, I turn toward Teagan and read her thoughts. She’s thinking about what he said, and I see her replay what happened. She came over for a file all right, one that she purposefully placed in his bag. When he retrieved it and asked her to leave, her Starbucks conveniently slipped and drenched her white silk blouse. Shel was right. This girl is relentless.
“You should go inside,” I tell Dane. “You’ll get sick.” It’s January, and he’s standing on the porch half dressed.
“Come on.” He takes my hand and pulls me behind him, past Teagan and into his place. I hear the door close as he deposits me in the living room and watch him gather the oh-so-important file and Teagan’s purse. He balances one on top of the other and hands them to her.
“Here,” he says and shoves the items into her hands. “I’ll see you at the office.”
“You’re making me leave?” she asks, her eyes wide with shock.
“Yes, I’m making you leave. I have plans with Emma.”
“But I was here first,” she pouts. Her eyes land on mine and narrow. “I was always here first.”
Is that a threat? The idea to physically escort her out appeals to me. “I’d think twice about what you say,” I warn her. “I’ve had a bad day.”
Her eyes rake over my body, analyzing everything in seconds. “Looks like it.”
I take a deep breath to steady myself as a new idea comes to mind – strangulation.
“Okay.” Dane steps between us. “It’s time for you to go.”
“What about my shirt?” she asks, her voice morphing from snarky to innocent. “When can I come back?”
Com
e back? I think. Um, never. “I’ll get it for you,” I volunteer, sickly sweet. “Where is it?”
“In the bathroom,” Dane says before Teagan can answer. His eyes widen and I hear, “Off the kitchen.” We wouldn’t want her to think I didn’t know my way around.
I walk further into his place, past the dining area and into a small kitchen. There’s another doorway, and I find a tiny bathroom. Teagan’s blouse lies across the counter, the bottom half hanging in the sink. It’s been rinsed, but I can still see the tea; it’s obvious the delicate fabric has been ruined. Picking it up I catch the label. Escada. Expensive. What wouldn’t this girl do to spend time with Dane? More than ruin a pricey piece of clothing, I’m sure.
The shirt is damp in my hands, and as I turn to leave an evil thought enters my mind. Maybe toilet water would remove the stain?
Moments later I make my way back to the living room just in time to see Dane push Teagan’s hand away from his chest. It irritates me, and I walk faster. He really ought to put some clothes on.
“Here you are.” I toss the blouse at Teagan with two fingers, and she nearly drops the file to catch it. She makes a face. “Why is this so wet?”
I shrug innocently. “That’s how I found it.”
She glares at me.
Dane steps further away from her and gestures toward the door. “Goodbye,” he says sarcastically.
She turns to leave with a sour expression. “I expect to see you at eight in the morning.”
“Or what?” Dane scoffs. “You’ll fire me? Please do.”
Teagan’s eyes bounce from Dane to me and back again. Her thoughts reveal she’d never do that; she wants him around too much. “Just don’t be late,” she snaps. She heads to the door, violently throws it open, and then slams it behind her.
Dane is in front of me in seconds, holding my chin with gentle hands. “Why does it look like someone punched you?”
“No one punched me.” I wrap my hands around his wrists. “The floor and I had an altercation.”
“You fell?”
“It’s more like I knocked heads with Ash, saw stars, and my jaw met the floor.”
He stares at me, confusion and worry etched across his face. “You were fighting again, weren’t you? You went to the Intermediate.”
“No.” I draw a heavy breath. “The Intermediate came to us.”
His eyes grow wide with surprise, and he immediately wraps me in his arms. “Thank God you’re safe,” he murmurs against me.
I press my cheek to the skin of his chest and find his strong heartbeat. My body immediately relaxes; it’s as if he is absorbing all of my tension. My muscles feel weak at letting it go.
“You’re tired,” he observes as I sag against him.
I lift my head. “Not really. Just relieved to be here.”
“I’m sorry about Teagan,” he apologizes. “I didn’t invite her. You know what happened, right?”
“I do. You shouldn’t leave your stuff unattended or mystery files will end up at your house.”
He groans. “I knew I didn’t leave it in my bag. She put it there?”
“Yes. You might want to think about staying dressed in front of her as well.” I arch a brow. “That is, if you don’t want her getting all touchy-feely. There’s only so much a girl can take.”
He starts to defend himself, but stops. “Can you take it?” he asks and steps out of my arms.
Now that he mentions it, no. Without Teagan distracting me, I find myself pleasantly uncomfortable in his half-naked presence. I try not to stare at the defined muscles I always knew were there, but kept hidden beneath clothing. I purposefully focus on his face which, lucky for me, is equally as nice to look at. My ears start to burn. “Um…” I stutter. “You need clothes.”
He grins and takes my hand. “Walk and talk,” he says as he pulls me behind him and up the stairs. “I want to hear all about your visit from the supernatural.”
He leads me to his room where he drops my hand and heads to the dresser in search of a shirt. As he finds one and pulls it over his head, I take a minute to peruse my surroundings: unmade king size bed, no headboard; side table strewn with a remote, a watch, and an alarm clock; flat screen mounted in the corner of the room between the closet and the window; and a Papasan chair with a blue cushion opposite the dresser. It strikes me as a typical bachelor’s room. I take a tentative seat on the bed as he turns to me.
“So?” he asks and sits down. “Are you going to fill me in?”
I know where I need to begin, but thinking about the event that set everything in motion makes my chest feel hollow. Garrett is dead; my friend is gone. It’s such a final thought. Saying it out loud will only make it that much more real.
I swallow and Dane notices. His brow furrows, and he takes my hand. “If it’s too hard you don’t have to – ”
“Garrett died,” the words fall from my mouth. I didn’t mean to say them so insensitively; I just needed to get them out.
“He what? When?” Dane’s face registers shock. “I thought he was doing better.”
“I thought he was, too. When I went to see him, after talking with you, he looked like the picture of perfect health. He was even hungry.” I give him a weak smile.
“So what happened?”
“He told me he was going to die. He said Amelia, his first love, had come to him in his dreams. She told him his time in the Intermediate killed his humanity, that when he completely turned he would pass.”
Dane squeezes my hand.
“He asked me to stay with him.” My throat feels thick at the memory. “He said he was scared.” Tears prick my eyes. “He died in my arms.”
With those words I’m immediately in Dane’s embrace. He holds me tight and smoothes my hair. “That’s horrible,” he whispers. “Why didn’t you call me?”
I shrug against him. “Jack found out and was furious; James and the other Guardians went to search for him. I was locked in a haze for most of the morning until Madeline convinced me to take a bath.” I’m rambling now. “Jack appeared, pretending to be Garrett, and he lured me downstairs where the other Allegiant were waiting. He’d turned Allegiant himself; he brought them to us. Mad, Ash, James, and Meg – they were all trapped.”
Dane inhales sharply. “How –?”
“I took them out,” I say, staring straight ahead. “I killed Jack and some nameless Allegiant. I killed Kellan.” I sit up straight and my gaze meets Dane’s. “I killed three people today.”
His eyes search mine. “Are you okay?”
I pause to take stock of my body and blink back the tears that never fell. “My head is tender, my shoulders and tailbone ache. But, it’ll pass like it always does.” Now that I think about it, I adjust my weight to my hip to take some pressure off my sore bottom.
“That’s not what I meant.” He moves one hand to cradle my face. “I meant in your heart, in your head. Are you okay?”
“I think so,” I say honestly. “I mean, I need to grieve for a lost friend and killing Jack was twisted.” I hesitate. “But it’s over.” A small smile creeps on to my face. “Kellan’s gone. Lucas can come home. It’s really over.”
Dane’s eyes light up at the revelation, and he brushes some stray hair from my face. “What can I do?”
“About what?”
“About your pain. Do you need ice or Motrin or food or something?”
I think about it as the throbbing at the crown of my head starts to feel tighter. “This is going to sound silly but…could you rub my head?”
He smiles. “I think that can be arranged. Turn around.”
I do as he asks and turn my back toward him, scooting further toward the center of the bed and crossing my legs. This hurts my tailbone, so I end up curling my legs to the side instead. He removes my hair tie with a soft tug, pulls my braid apart until my hair is a crazy mess, weaves his fingers up under my hair, and then begins applying gentle pressure to my scalp. At first I feel self-conscious; I’m sure I look like
some sort of untamed wild woman. But, as the tips of his fingers move in small circles against my tender skin, I want to melt. His hands are magic, and the ache in my head starts to wane.
“I don’t like your hair braided,” he says as he works.
My droopy eyelids pop open. “Why?”
“Because it’s not you. It reminds me of Madeline, and she’s not hot.”
“What?” I interrupt his work and look over my shoulder. “Madeline is beautiful.”
He tenderly moves my head back into position. “In a motherly sort of way.”
I sigh. “You don’t like it because it reminds you of what I can do,” I nearly whisper because his hands are moving again. “You’re afraid I’ll hurt you one day.”
He snickers. “Maybe so. The way you wear your hair should be our code; if you’re mad at me, braid it. Then I’ll know to stay away.”
I laugh which comes out as some sort of weird garbled scoff-sigh. I could fall asleep under his touch. “How should I wear my hair?” I murmur.
“Down,” he says immediately. “Down or half-up.”
Apparently he’s thought about this? “What if it’s hot?” I complain.
“Ponytail.”
Well, okay then.
We fall silent as he massages my head; I swear I’ve found some sort of endless heaven. Just when I don’t think it can get any better, he moves down to my shoulders and presses his thumbs hard against my shoulder blades, running them in circles. “These hurt too, right?”
I nod and let my chin droop to my chest. He works his way along the tops of my shoulders, my shoulder blades, and then up my neck. Does he have some sort of masseuse training I don’t know about? Despite how amazing this feels I can’t help myself and find a sarcastic comment. “Are you going to massage my ass next?”
His mouth appears at my ear. “Only if you’ll let me.”
I wasn’t expecting his voice to be so close and it startles me. Or maybe it’s the feeling of his breath against my skin. I try to remain unaffected and lift my head. “That might be awkward. I think my tailbone will be fine, thanks.”
