Hotbloods

by Bella Forrest

  “Riley!” She sounded relieved to hear my voice, as I was hers, after everything that happened since I last saw her. “How are you?”

  “I’m, um, okay,” I replied, figuring that now was not the best time to tell her someone had tried to kill us, again—I’d rather leave that for Navan to tell Bashrik. “What’s up?”

  “Well, we’ve kind of been having a problem with the Churnleys regarding your absence. We haven’t been able to think of a good excuse to explain it other than… basically you got the major hots for one of the lumberjacks, and went off with him to Austin to spend a few nights.”

  My face burned. “Oh my God. You didn’t tell them that.”

  “Look—what else were we supposed to tell them?” Angie said. “Honestly!”

  I sighed. She was right. It was extremely hard to think of a remotely reasonable excuse for my sudden disappearance, and I probably wouldn’t have thought of a much better one, either. Still, it was embarrassing.

  “The main problem is,” Angie continued, “they got in touch with Jean and Roger, and they’re kind of freaked out. Understandably, they’re worried about you gallivanting off with some guy you’ve only known for like, less than a day.”

  I swore under my breath. Crap, crap, crap. “What did my parents say, exactly?” I asked, my chest suddenly feeling constricted.

  “They want you to call them as soon as possible. They’re worried about you.”

  “Right, call them.” I swallowed.

  “And, uh, they want you to actually go home.”

  Damn. It wasn’t like Jean and Roger to be controlling, or make demands like this, but they were obviously completely freaked out—they might even be thinking I had been kidnapped or trafficked.

  “They want me to come home,” I repeated, biting my lower lip.

  “Yeah. They’re really, really worried. I’m guessing they’re gonna call the police if they don’t hear from you soon.”

  I exhaled loudly, staring at Navan. He was close enough to have heard every word, and he looked back at me steadily.

  “Okay. Well, the good news is we’re in New York now, trying to figure out how to meet with the Fed,”—I took a guess that Bashrik had already filled her and Lauren in on what the Fed was, and the fact that she didn’t ask confirmed it—“I guess… I guess we could visit them tomorrow morning. We’ve got some time to kill anyway.”

  “We? You mean, you’re gonna take Navan to see them?”

  I knew how crazy that sounded, but I was going to need to buy myself at least a few days more, and I needed them to be onboard with my excuse. I had too many other things on my plate to be worrying about them calling the police. Lauren and Angie had already fed them the lie that I’d found a summer boyfriend so… it only made sense that they should meet him. I was also strangely confident that Navan could pull it off. I’d seen that he could be a gentleman, and I wasn’t too worried about him seeming out of place—he knew a lot about Earth’s customs. We would go to see them during the daytime, when his skin was normal. We would need to have a little chat about some things in advance, though, such as the whole… boyfriend and girlfriend thing.

  “Yeah,” I replied.

  “Okay, well…” Angie sounded totally skeptical, and I couldn’t blame her. “Good luck with that.”

  “Is Lauren there?”

  “She’s with Bashrik. He’s lying down.”

  “Okay, tell her I said hi. And you can tell the Churnleys to stop worrying—I’ll figure things out with my parents.”

  “Okay,” Angie replied.

  “Do you want to speak to your brother?” I asked Navan, away from the receiver.

  To my surprise, he shook his head. “I’ll talk to him next time. Giving him one more thing to worry about isn’t going to help him recover any faster. Just ask Angie to tell them we’re okay and we’ll check in again once we have more developments.”

  I nodded and conveyed his message, then handed the comm back to Navan, who switched it off. I drew in another deep breath and returned to the bed opposite him. We stared at each other for several long moments, until I finally broke the silence.

  “So, uh, you up for meeting my parents?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The fact that somebody seemed to be following us worried me in relation to our planned visit to Jean and Roger. The last thing I wanted to do was put them in danger. After Navan agreed to meet them, and I filled him in on some basic things about my parents (they wouldn’t expect him to know a whole lot anyway, given that we had only just met), we agreed that we would avoid flight and travel there by taxi—I hoped that would make things safer.

  I then dialed my adoptive parents’ number and spoke to Jean, who sounded both tense and relieved to hear my voice. I told her that taking off with Navan wasn’t something I would normally do but, given that it was my last summer before college, I kind of got swept up in the spontaneity of it all. I winced internally even as I said the words, knowing that it really didn’t sound like me, but she seemed to buy it. Though, she still wanted me to come home so she could see me face to face, and was glad when I suggested bringing Navan along. We agreed to meet at noon the next day.

  Navan and I retired to bed soon after the conversation, though I barely slept, tossing and turning, wondering what tomorrow would bring—the stunt we were planning to pull off far eclipsing any nerves I had about the meeting with my parents. It didn’t seem like Navan slept much either, judging by how much he tossed and turned on the other side of the room.

  We left the hotel with plenty of time the next morning, and stopped by a store on our way to the subway to buy some more suitable clothes.

  “What sort of outfit would your dream boyfriend wear?” Navan wondered as we walked through the racks of clothing. “This?” He stopped in front of a purple velour suit and ran his fingers down the sleeve. “Pair this bad boy with a lime green bow tie?”

  I snorted. “Um, that is not what my dream boyfriend would wear.”

  “Well, show me then.”

  There were suits of all sorts—linen, tweed, velour. Dress shirts with white collars folded into perfect rectangles in clear plastic packaging. Rows of ties in a rainbow of colors. He would’ve looked good in any of it, but we were going to Jean and Roger’s, not some white collar corporate event.

  We wandered over to the casual section. “How about I show up in this?” Navan asked, holding up a gray waffle-weave bathrobe. “Really make a good first impression.”

  I stifled a laugh. “How about this instead?” I pulled a pair of jeans off a hanger. “Jeans and . . . this.” I grabbed a plain black t-shirt.

  “I like it,” he said. “What about you?”

  “You’ll look good in it. It’s classic.”

  “No, I meant, what about you for clothes? What are you going to wear?” He seemed genuinely curious.

  “Oh. We can head over to the ladies’ section. But first you should try those on to make sure they fit.”

  Navan held the jeans up. “Eh, I’m pretty good at eyeballing things. These are a size too small. And the legs look too short.”

  “Okay.” I slid those jeans back on the hanger and put it on the rack. I grabbed the next size up. “You should still try them on. The dressing room is right here.”

  He went in with the jeans and the t-shirt. “I’ll wait right here,” I said, sitting down on a leather bench that was right outside the dressing room. A three-way mirror was in front of me, reflecting three of me back.

  “Uh . . . I might need the next size up,” Navan called, stepping out of the dressing room. The jeans fit perfectly, but the shirt was way too small—his muscles strained against the fabric and the bottom of the shirt just barely grazed the waistband of the jeans.

  I laughed and went back to where the shirts were, grabbing one two sizes up. “Here you go,” I said.

  He came out of the dressing room again a few seconds later, arms outstretched. “How do I look now?”

  I felt like whistli
ng. Damn good was how he looked. “Perfect,” I replied.

  We made our way over to the ladies’ section, where there were dresses of every style and color imaginable.

  “How about this one?” Navan remarked, holding up a ridiculously gaudy yellow and white polka dot dress with a long, sweeping skirt and white bow in the back.

  “That is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen,” I announced. I went over to a rack of maxi dresses, where I grabbed a floral print racerback one. “This one will do.”

  “Okay, I agree that’s better.” He smiled, and I could tell he was genuinely enjoying himself. I wondered what the shopping experience was like in Vysanthe—if they even had shops.

  “Should I come in the dressing room and help you try it on? A good boyfriend would do that, right?”

  For a crazy split-second I wasn’t actually sure if he was joking, but then I looked at him, and he raised a dark brow, a spark of humor twinkling in his eyes.

  “I think I can manage,” I replied, simultaneously trying not to laugh and not blush. I was sure getting a good dose of relaxed Navan during this little outing… I guessed there weren’t many occasions when he could flex his personality like this—be whoever the heck he wanted to be. Certainly not back in his homeland. And he was clearly taking full advantage of that with me… Not that I was complaining. I found upbeat Navan incredibly cute.

  In the dressing room, I was glad to find that the dress I’d chosen fit, and it looked great on me, if I did say so myself. It highlighted the curve of my waist, and the pattern brought out the blue in my eyes. I ripped the tag off so I could pay for it without having to change first, took one last look at myself, and then backed out of the changing room.

  As I reemerged, Navan was standing, waiting for me, his arms crossed over his chest. And when he saw me, he froze, and I could have sworn his eyes lit up.

  “Oh, that…” He cleared his throat and hesitated for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. He uncrossed his arms and took a step back, giving me a long once over. “That… looks much better on you than my shirt,” he concluded, his eyes spanning the length of my legs and returning to my face, his lips curved in an admiring smile.

  I grinned, accepting the compliment. “Thanks.”

  He kept his eyes on me as I approached him, and it was all I could do to keep my cheeks from flaming. Damn. I’d been on my fair share of dates during high school, and I’d never felt this girly around any guy before.

  On our way out of the store, we passed by another three-way mirror and Navan held out a hand, stopping us in front of it.

  “Would you look at us,” he said, putting an arm around me and causing my breath to involuntarily hitch. “Not too bad on the eyes at all... You ready to go impress the pants off your parents?”

  “Um . . . I hope they’re not that impressed that they lose their pants. I’d very much like to avoid that, actually, at all costs.”

  He chuckled and kept his arm around me as we walked out of the store, and I doubted he realized the effect it had on me. My face felt thoroughly red by the time I hailed a taxi and directed it to Jean and Roger’s neighborhood.

  Once we were sitting, I returned my thoughts to the task at hand. Until now, I hadn’t been feeling that nervous about this first task of the day. Navan was clearly in a calm mood, and I reminded myself that he could handle it, especially since we were not planning to stay for long, anyway. I’d told my parents we had plans with Navan’s brother who lived in the city. Still, my palms were sweating as we arrived at my adoptive parents’ street, and we approached our modest, three-bedroom house. It felt like everything had changed so much since I had last been here, my entire world spun out of control. It was going to be hard to act like nothing had happened.

  I stopped at the porch and drew in a deep breath. I glanced at Navan. His expression was calm, almost contemplative, and I realized that if anyone had the right to be nervous about this, it was him. I grabbed a hold of that thought and tried to infuse some of that calmness into myself, right as Sally, our Labrador, started barking.

  “Riley!” Jean must’ve been waiting right by the door, because it swung open and there was her thin face, breaking out into a smile, her crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of her warm brown eyes. But as they fell on Navan, I could see the tension brewing behind them. Her eyes widened as she took in his imposing form, the image she’d had in her head of who I might’ve run off with was evidently very different from the man who stood before her.

  I had to hide my smile as Roger appeared behind her, his blue eyes bulging, too, and his red-bearded face assuming an almost identical expression to Jean’s. Roger was by no means short at almost six feet, but even he had to tilt his head slightly to look Navan in the eye.

  “And this would be Navan?” Jean managed, and I nodded, suppressing a smile.

  “The dashing boyfriend that swept Riley away,” Navan replied, and he gave a warm smile, the hard lines of his face softening. “That would be me. I apologize if I caused you any distress. It’s an honor to meet you.” His smooth, polite tone was at odds with his rugged appearance, and I could see from my parents’ faces that they were pleasantly surprised. He also spoke with a neutral American accent, like we had discussed—so as to avoid questions about which country he was from, as his regular accent was clearly not American. It wasn’t the best impersonation, but it was passable.

  “Come in, come in,” Jean said, stepping back with a smile to allow us in. Navan had to duck his head under the doorway to avoid bashing it as he entered, and we left our shoes by the door.

  “Again, I’m so sorry for scaring you guys,” I said as we moved through the house, dodging Sally, who rushed up to Navan and started sniffing him.

  “Well, the main thing is you’re safe and happy,” Jean replied, though there was still a note of uncertainty in her voice.

  We entered the dining room, which looked out onto our small garden. Navan and I sat next to each other on one side of the table, while Jean positioned two chairs on the other. There was an awkward silence as my two adoptive parents gazed at us. Then Jean announced, “I’ll bring in the brunch!”

  “So,” Roger said, fixing Navan with a half-friendly, half-wary look. “Where are you from, Navan?”

  “Born and bred in Austin,” he replied genially.

  “Navan works in renovation,” I explained. “He’s been doing some work on the plot of land next to the Churnleys’.”

  Jean reentered with a tray of tea, coffee, and snacks, and I helped myself to an herbal, decaffeinated tea bag instinctively, the silver root incident still fresh in my mind. Navan went for a coffee, and I was genuinely curious to watch his reaction to the warm drink. I wasn’t sure if he’d tasted it before.

  “How did you and Riley meet?” Jean asked.

  “Well,” Navan began in a confident, almost theatrical tone, “it was a blisteringly hot day and for unknown reasons, I thought that might be a good time to chop some wood. I must’ve been complaining a bit loudly about it, because the next thing I knew, Riley’s there, wanting to know if everything’s all right. Apparently, she and her friends had been out doing some work in the Churnleys’ garden, and she could hear me all the way across the field.”

  Jean beamed at me. “That’s our girl,” she said. “Riley has a good heart, as I’m sure you know. She’s always concerned about the well-being of others.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” Navan replied, and he made a big show of reaching over and squeezing my hand. “She sure is something.”

  I looked at him, feeling suddenly very awkward with all eyes on me, and he winked.

  “She’s also the bravest woman I’ve ever met,” he added, and this time, the frivolity was gone from his voice, and his expression had become serious as he looked over at me.

  I blushed as Jean and Roger smiled fondly. “That she is,” Roger said, and I wished I could do a disappearing act under the table.

  His response
was well chosen, though, as it held real meaning to my adoptive parents. I could see that it instantly warmed them toward him. They were obviously thinking I’d told him a bit about my past, and what I’d been through, though I had personally never thought to describe myself as brave. I’d simply survived.

  “Well!” Roger said, clapping his hands together. “We can certainly tell you’ve got charisma, Navan.”

  Jean smiled, and was it my imagination or was that smile bordering on coy? “I understand now why you might have wanted to go out and have a little summer fling.”

  I pasted a smile onto my face in an attempt to hide my mortification.

  “What about you, Riley?” Roger asked. “Navan says you’re the bravest woman he’s ever met—and I don’t think I’d dispute him there—but what do you like so much about him?”

  “Um . . .” Was this really happening right now? Had it been a huge mistake to come here? I knew Roger and Jean would be scrutinizing Navan, but I didn’t think they’d be asking questions like this. Navan leaned back in his chair, barely able to contain the smile on his face. They were all looking at me, waiting.

  “I’m not really sure what to say,” I said slowly, “other than he just . . . swept me off my feet.”

  Navan could barely contain his chuckle, while Roger nodded approvingly, and Jean sighed.

  “Young love,” she said. “Such a wonderful thing.”

  We spent the rest of the conversation on mostly small talk, and I could see from my parents’ perspective that was intentional. They really just wanted to observe this new guy I’d suddenly developed the hots for, so they could feel comfortable about me spending time with him. By the end of our brunch, Navan had certainly accomplished that—in fact, he’d pulled this whole thing off more beautifully than I’d thought possible. It was hard to fake genuine friendliness and respect, and I knew Jean and Roger well enough to tell when they were putting on a front.

  It was difficult to imagine this was the same man who, barely a day ago, had decapitated someone with his bare hands.