‘Want to dance?’
He shakes his head. ‘Sorry, I don’t dance.’
‘But I do,’ a voice says from behind us. I spin around and my heart sinks as Peter holds his hand out to me. I really want to dance but I know it isn’t a good idea to be so close to another male, especially one who has already proven susceptible to my aura.
‘Sorry Pete but we were actually on our way to get something to drink,’ Kael says. He doesn’t wait for Peter’s response; he slides his arm around my back and guides me toward the drinks table. He pours a glass of punch, tastes it, shakes his head and hands me a closed soda can from the ice bucket instead before he downs the punch himself. I don’t particularly want to drink alcohol but his taste-testing irritates me.
‘I don’t want soda,’ I say, ‘I want punch.’
‘No,’ Kael replies.
‘But -’
‘You’re not drinking alcohol, Shaylee,’ he says, taking my arm and steering me toward a chair against the wall. He practically pushes me down onto the chair and my temper spikes as he leans against the wall beside me.
‘I’m not a child, Kael,’ I say, glaring up at him. He ignores me, staring out at the crowd. I briefly consider shaking my soda can over him, but then I notice Michelle and Kelly waving at me from the other side of the dance floor.
Come dance, Kelly mouths at me, indicating the small circle a few of the single students have created on the dance-floor. I glance at Kael and he shakes his head.
‘What is your problem?’ I say, and stand anyway.
‘Shaylee -’ he warns but I ignore him and walk across the floor, dodging bodies until I reach my friends. Kelly smiles at me, and Michelle leans in and shouts above the music into my ear.
‘What’s up with the gatekeeper?’
I follow her gesture toward Kael, who is scowling at me, but hasn’t moved from his position against the far wall.
‘He’s just being his miserable self,’ I say crossly. ‘Just ignore him.’
She nods.
‘Your theme is a hit!’ she shouts, giving me a ‘thumbs up’ sign. I smile and return the gesture, then settle into the rhythm of swaying that passes for dancing at parties. The band picks up the tempo and Michelle persuades me to show some theme-fitting moves. I oblige and soon, the circle has grown to encompass almost the entire floor and everyone is trying to copy my skirt-swishing, shoe tapping movements.
After a few songs, I’m thoroughly enjoying myself and even Kael’s thunder-cloud expression can’t bring me down. I’m just about to take a break and get something to drink, when someone bumps me from behind and I feel moisture splash across my side.
‘I’m so sorry!’ the girl behind me gushes as she stares in horror at the wet stain dripping down the side of my skirt onto my legs. Thankfully, it’s something clear and I’m sure it won’t stain. The student looks so mortified that I haven’t got the heart to reprimand her, so I smile and tell her not to worry. I lean over to shout into Michelle’s ear:
‘I’m just going to the ladies.’
‘Want me to come with?’ she asks.
I shake my head and look over at Kael. He has his back turned toward me and is talking to another student beside the punch table.
‘No, just tell Kael where I am if he asks. I won’t be long, just want to dry some of this off.’
Michelle gives me another ‘thumbs up’ and continues bobbing to the music.
I weave through the dancers to the entrance and follow the ‘ladies’ signs into the powder room. Once inside, I pull a few paper towels from the dispenser and dab the worst of the mess from my dress.
One of the stall doors opens and I glance up to see Mrs. Whitcomb step up to the basin beside me.
‘Accident?’ she asks.
I nod and give her a ‘stuff happens, what can you do’ smile.
‘Pity, it really is a lovely dress.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, rubbing at the wet patch. The paper towels don’t seem to be helping much though. They’re too thin and keep disintegrating into messy strips.
‘You know, a towel would work much better,’ Mrs. Whitcomb says. ‘There should be one in the kitchen.’
‘Oh, where’s that?’ I ask, giving up on the paper towels.
‘Come, I’ll show you,’ she says with a smile.
I follow her out of the ladies, down a short corridor into a huge industrial kitchen laid out with stainless steel counters and sinks. Mrs. Whitcomb takes a white dishtowel from a hook beside one of the sinks and hands it to me.
‘Thanks,’ I say.
‘No problem,’ she replies, ‘I’ll see you back inside.’
I shoot her a grateful smile and rub the towel over the mess as her footsteps retreat from the tiled kitchen.
One minute, I’m leaning over my skirt, the next, there is gloved hand over my mouth and another clamped around my waist. I let out a startled scream, but it’s barely audible beneath the leather that is all but smothering me.
My captor begins to drag me backwards, toward the entrance at the far side of the kitchen and I react instinctively, kicking out with my legs and biting down on his hand.
The man swears and pulls his hand away quickly. I don’t waste the opportunity. I take a deep breath and scream as loud as I possibly can. I catch a glimpse of the hooded figure just before my scream is cut short as the man slams his hand into my face. The blow snaps my head to the side. Pain shoots across the right side of my face. I yelp and he slaps a hand over my mouth again.
‘Don’t even think about doing that again,’ he warns, breath hot against my ear. ‘I’ll snap you in two.’
His voice is a low growl and the sound of it raises goose-bumps up and down my arms. He starts to push me toward the door, but I dig my heels in and drop my weight against him. The man struggles forward a few steps, swears, turns around and starts dragging me backwards toward the entrance.
My heartbeat accelerates with each step we move. I can barely breathe with the leather-clad hand covering both my mouth and my nose and the lack of oxygen only heightens my panic. I scream again but the sound is pathetically muffled. I kick backwards against his shins and push at the steel band around my waist but he just grunts, lifts me off the ground and moves quickly toward the door.
I stare desperately at the door into the corridor. I need to stop him before we reach the exit. I know enough from self defense classes to understand that if he gets me out of that door – I’m as good as dead.
Chapter 48
Out of control
Tastes like: Slippery jello.
Smells like: Tires burning.
Sounds like: A gasp.
Feels like: Weightlessness.
Looks like: A car careening off the side of a road.
My attacker has me right at the exit. He legs go of my mouth to open the door and I waste no time letting loose another blood-curdling scream. I throw my head back and feel it crack against his skull. Pain shoots through me, but I ignore it and focus on the millisecond reprieve I’ve created as my captor curses and let’s his hold on me slacken just a little.
I turn into him and away, but I’m not quick enough. As I launch myself in the opposite direction, he grabs my wrist, crushes it and twists it behind my back. White hot pain sears through me and I hear bone crack. A scream of pain escapes my lips as he uses my arm, the same one that was injured in the cycling accident, to draw me back against him.
My vision tunnels and moisture gathers in my eyes. All I can think about is the agony shooting from my wrist. He laughs, a cruel and triumphant sound, and pulls me back toward the door and I go, like a kitten, willing to do anything to release the pressure. Dark spots swim before my eyes as he shoves me through the door. Through the tears rolling down my face, I see the outline of a black car against the curb, but all I can do is whimper and let him shove me toward it.
There is a loud crash behind us and my captor turns, swinging my body around in front of him, like a human shield. The movement sends mo
re waves of nauseating pain radiating through me and my legs give out.
As I sink to the pavement, I see Kael as I’ve never seen him before. His eyes meet mine and then flick down over me, narrowing on my swollen eye and injured arm. He bares his teeth, eyes flashing and hurtles toward us.
‘Get in!’ someone shouts from behind the wheel of the black car, ‘It’s too late.’
The man swears and shoves me forward, into Kael’s path. Without missing a beat, Kael throws his arms around me and my momentum takes us down. He twists to take the brunt of the fall and I land, sprawled atop him.
I hear the squeal of tires as my attacker makes his escape, but Kael doesn’t seem to care. His full attention is on me as he sits, with me on his lap and reaches for my hand. I whimper again and cradle my arm against my chest, out of his reach. I know he just wants to help but I can’t stand another failed healing attempt right now.
‘Are you okay?’ he asks.
I open my mouth to say ‘yes’ but end up shaking my head instead as my body begins to tremble. Kael curses, stands with me in his arms and strides across the darkened parking lot toward his truck. I bury my face into the side of his neck and close my eyes as tears stream soundlessly down my face.
Kael deposits me carefully on the passenger seat and clips the seat belt into place. He jumps into the truck beside me and whips out his cell phone.
‘Kent, I need you at the college. Now.’
It sounds like his brother responds on the other end but Kael cuts him short.
‘Black van headed east. They tried to take Shaylee.’
He cuts the call and shoves his foot down hard on the accelerator, sending the truck into a squealing spin before it shoots off, down the road. Something tells me we’re going in the wrong direction – away from Aylburton but I don’t say a word.
Kael’s face is focused forward, his eyes glued to the black road before us. The telltale muscle in his jaw is working furiously. I watch him struggle to maintain composure and listen to his breathing, irregular and harsh. My eyes shoot to the speedometer and I inhale sharply.
‘Kael, stop,’ I say, ‘you’re going too fast.’
Fear spikes inside me as he continues to stare straight ahead.
‘Kael, please, stop,’ I beg again but when he ignores me, something deep down snaps.
‘Stop the car!’ I scream. ‘Just stop and let me out!’
Like a sleep-walker waking from a dream, Kael’s head snaps toward me and he slams his foot on the brakes. The car skids out of control and for a breathless moment, all I see are the headlights of an oncoming car flashing wildly. I close my eyes and brace for impact as a million fragmented thoughts race through my mind.
I hear the sound of a car horn, fast approaching…and then it seems to pass us by and the car skids to a stop. The engine sputters, dies and then there is only silence. I breathe in, exhale in a stutter and open my eyes. We’re on the side of the road, facing the wrong way. There are no streetlights and only the ragged sound of our breathing pierces the quiet.
For a full minute, we both just sit there, heartbeats hammering and then Kael turns to me.
‘Are you ok?’
I stare back at him in stunned silence - and promptly burst into tears.
‘God, Shaylee, I’m so sorry,’ Kael says in a strained voice but my body has had enough and I can’t stop my reaction. Kael reaches toward me, unclips my seat belt and pulls me across the hand brake onto his lap. I bury my face in the side of his neck and sob.
Everything I’ve been bottling up for the past weeks, every tear I’ve stubbornly refused to shed, comes spilling out, like the sluices have been opened and there’s no chance of closing them against the flood again. Kael holds me as I cry, stroking my hair and rocking me gently, oblivious of the wet patch I’m making against his shirt.
I cradle my injured arm against my chest and cry. When I can’t squeeze another tear-drop from my red eyes, I just lay there, breath hitching, pressing my face into the curve of his neck.
‘I’m so sorry, Shaylee,’ Kael whispers, when my breathing has become more regular. I tilt my head to look at him and lose my breath again for an all together different reason.
Kael stares at me, drinking me in. His eyes rove over every part of my face and in that moment, I don’t care that my own eyes must be puffy and swollen, or that my cheeks must be streaked with the salty residue of my tears. His gaze drops to my mouth and without hesitation, he crushes his lips to mine.
The kiss is completely unlike the first. There’s no gentleness, no hesitation, only raw, deep need. He tangles his hands in the hair at the back of my head, and bruises my lips with his. My pulse pounds in my ears, bursts of electricity race through my veins. Heat builds inside as the connection surges between us, heightening every sensation until I feel as if I’m about to burst. It’s like this every time he touches me. The pressure of his lips now makes me feel like we’re building, climbing, racing toward something explosive and all I want is to climb higher, closer, faster.
Kael severs the kiss and buries his face in my hair. He curses softly and shifts me back onto the passenger seat. The lack of his warmth leaves me shivering with cold and aching.
‘How the hell did this happen?’ he mumbles.
He fumbles with the key in the ignition and doesn’t speak again. When we pull into the driveway of Nan’s house, he shuts off the engine and glares out the front windshield.
‘That shouldn’t have happened,’ he says.
I look at him and will him to look back at me, but he doesn’t. I want to ask him what he means. What should not have happened? The attack? The near accident? The kiss?
‘Kael, I -’
‘No, don’t say anything, Shaylee,’ he interrupts. He turns at last to look at me and I wish he hadn’t. His eyes are empty. ‘What happened tonight was a mistake. It won’t happen again,’ he says. I know he’s not talking about the attack.
‘But…’ I argue but trail away as the entrance light flickers on and the front door is thrown open. Nan appears in the doorway, attired in a fleecy white gown, with a complexion to match.
‘Let’s get you inside,’ Kael says. He slams the truck door behind him, extricates me gently from the car and carries me up the porch steps. Nan’s eyes widen as she takes in my disheveled appearance, the damp, wrinkled dress and hair tumbling from its pins.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Shaylee will fill you in,’ Kael says. He deposits me at the doorway and gestures toward my arm. ‘Her wrist is broken,’ he says, ‘I have to go.’ He gives me one last look, full of regret and disappears into the hedges.
Chapter 49
Numb
Tastes like: Throat lozenges.
Smells like: Antiseptic.
Sounds like: A monotone.
Feels like: Your arm, after you’ve slept the night on it.
Looks like: An elderly man, stretching after sitting in the same position for too long.
‘What happened?’ Nan asks. She takes my elbow and leads me toward the kitchen.
I’m suddenly exhausted, depleted of the adrenaline that has kept me going over the last hour. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I want to do is curl up in the warm cocoon of my bed.
‘Shaylee?’
I try to think of an easy way to put the events of tonight into words but my brain is stuck in basic survival mode, and there’s no tact or sensitivity on that setting.
‘Someone tried to abduct me.’
‘What?’ Nan asks, visibly shaken.
‘It’s ok, Kael saved me.’
She looks at my face, swollen along the left side from my attacker’s brutal slap and my wrist, still cradled awkwardly in my other hand.
‘Come.’
She pulls a stool out and gestures for me to sit. I obey and she rummages through the cupboard, pulling out a first aid kit and various glass jars. She shakes a few of the herbs into her pestle and mortar, mixes in a little water to make a paste and slops th
e mixture onto a gauze wrapping.
‘I’ve had a bad feeling for days,’ she says, shaking her head and taking my injured wrist in her hands. ‘I shouldn’t have ignored it.’
This time, she doesn’t even try to use her healing talent on me. She places the compress she’s created over my injury and uses a long bandage to wrap my hand and wrist.
I watch her wind the white length of material through my fingers, up and around my forearm. All can think of is Kael, the look in his eyes when he burst outside, the feel of his arms around me, the pressure of his lips on mine... He must feel something for me. Is it the effect of my aura or something more? I need to know.
‘Nan,’ I say, choosing my words carefully.
‘Hmm?’
‘How does a seastnan…feel...I mean…what does Jake feel for you?’
She stops bandaging and looks up at me with a sharp expression.
‘What do you mean?’
I glance away, quickly amending my question to downplay my interest.
‘Well, it’s just that Kael seemed to know exactly when I was in trouble, even though he couldn’t have heard me shouting above the music.’
Nan sighs and starts wrapping my arm again.
‘The relationship between a seastnan and his charge is an intimate one that is not easily explained or understood. It’s like…’ she pauses and looks thoughtful for a moment. ‘You saw how the babies reacted at the blood promise ceremony?’
I nod, remembering how they had cried and reached out for each other.
‘It’s a lot like that,’ Nan says. ‘You become connected to your seastnan in ways that can’t be explained. Like having a twin, except that he can feel your emotions.’
‘Feel my emotions?’
‘Yes,’ Nan confirms. ‘That’s how Kael knew you were in trouble. He can feel your anger, your pain, and your fear – especially your fear.’
She secures the edge of the bandage with Elastoplast and fills a glass halfway with hot water. She takes more glass jars from her stash, crushes another mixture, adds it to the water, and holds it out for me.
Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) Page 26
