by M. Lathan
Chapter Seven
None of them had heard the name before. Just me. Because it was my name, the one on my shiny credit card.
They assumed Cecilia was a friend they didn’t know and let it go.
Paul and Emma left Sophia’s fake room. Nate looked in the empty closet again, still shocked maybe. “What did she tell you when she brought you here?” he asked.
“That she wanted me to stay with her. I suppose she never said at her house. And it makes sense. She’s a maid and she asked me for money. I should’ve figured this out.”
He put his hands on my shoulders. I hadn’t realized he was so close behind me. I didn’t jump. Nothing about Nathan was startling.
“She never said she lived here to me either, now that I think about it. Sophia came to the hunter’s house for Emma. Then Emma begged her to take Remi. Then she saw me and shelled out a few hundred in case I wasn’t just a dog. When I shifted, she asked if I wanted to get off of the streets, and I said yes.”
“I’m glad she did,” I said.
“Me, too.” He chuckled, and I looked back at him to see what I’d missed. He pointed at the mirror attached to the dresser in front of us. “Have you ever avoided a mirror before?”
I shook my head, trying not to fall in love with the look of us together.
“I have. After I shifted the first time, I thought I would see something weird in the mirror. Theresa told me she’d seen a werewolf before, and I thought I was one. I thought I would see the monster she described if I looked at my reflection. Isn’t that terrible? Can you imagine thinking you’re something like that?” I could more than imagine that. I nodded, at war with the downturned corners of my mouth. “Sorry. I forgot. Last night … sorry.”
“It’s okay, Nate.” He smiled at me in the mirror. I could have fainted. God, he was gorgeous. And my friend. I needed to remember that. It would be beyond horrible if I made a nice guy like him let me down easily. That would definitely strain our friendship.
“It’s my duty as best friend to remind you of how good you smell when you forget. So don’t worry, you’ll never have to avoid a mirror.” I turned around and hugged him, forcing my hands to be still on his back like a friend would. Like he was doing right now. He let go and walked to the door. “Have fun with school stuff. I’m washing windows today. Sounds so fun. Want to eat lunch together?”
“Of course.”
I stayed in the room alone for a while. I sat on the bed, more confused than I was last night—the night I found out I wasn’t a witch. I was human, well a copy of one, and Sophia was pretending to live in a house that belonged to me.
I shivered and rubbed my arms. Bumps sprouted all over them as a terrifying chill brushed my hand. I turned towards the cold, my breath a thick cloud in the air. The chill crept up my arm, and I jumped up from the bed. I ran to my room like a spaz. Thankfully, no one from my new life saw me.
In my room, I paced in front of my bed, trying to convince myself that I’d imagined the chill. I had bigger problems right now. Sophia had neglected to tell me something huge, and I needed to know why. I waited for that request to do something, to be psychic.
Dead silence followed.
“Okay … what about Raymond and Catherine Grant? Who were they?” Nothing still. I repeated the thought without the words, hoping whatever creepy psychic stuff in my mind would kick in then.
Still nothing. That made four people my powers were useless on. Or three types— experienced witches, beautiful shifters, and the dead.
I opened my laptop to give the great equalizer a shot. I typed in their names and generated millions of results in a moment. There would be no school for me today.
My butt was numb from sitting after hours of clicking and hoping and finding nothing of merit. After giving up, I sat there, powerless and clueless. Not knowing anything about myself or the world. Other than that I was bred to be a vicious killer.
A familiar and playful cadence of knocks on my door interrupted my thoughts and added something else I knew about the world: I had a friend I didn’t want to lose.
“It’s open, Nate.” I closed out the screen from my failed search. I turned around, and my handsome and incredibly perfect friend held out a plate with two sandwiches piled on top. He braced two cans of soda against his chest with his other arm. “Wow, thanks.” We sat in front of the TV, and I gave him the remote. Cartoons again. “You know you don’t have to cook for me all the time, right?”
He nodded as he opened his can and took a swig. “It’s no trouble. They’re watching this horror movie I don’t think you’d like, so I came up here.”
I smiled because he seemed so sure of that, like he knew me. My heart twisted because he didn’t. Copies probably had no trouble with horror movies. It sounded like we were like something right out of one.
“Chris, I heard your heart earlier,” he said, tapping his ear. “It sounded like you freaked out when they did the spell. Do you hate even being around magic?” he asked.
The light from the open curtain cast a glow around him. He looked angelic, perfect, impossible to lie to. I didn’t have the words, so I went to my desk, pulled out the credit card, and brought it back to him.
He studied it. I saw exactly when he made the connection between the names.
“Sophia gave me that. She said her husband changed the name on all of my bank stuff to Cecilia Neal so it couldn’t be tracked to me.”
“It’s your house?” he asked, barely a whisper.
“I think so. I don’t know. I think she bought it with my money.”
“Without telling you?” he asked. I nodded. “This house costs way more than ten thousand. You think she may have taken something from you?” I shrugged my shoulders and stammered something close to a maybe. “Can you check?”
I brought my laptop and bank papers to the sofa. I logged on to my account. The balance was still fifty-two million. She hadn’t even taken the ten thousand. Or maybe it hadn’t shown up yet. I was tempted to call the customer service number to ask about withdrawals, but I was a missing person and wanted to stay that way.
“That’s a lot of money,” Nathan said. He jammed the sandwich in his mouth, devouring half of it with one bite. “You should just ask her about it. I’m sure she has an explanation.” He stuffed the other half in his mouth, chewing fast like it was going somewhere.
“Hope so,” I said.
I wanted to crawl to his lap and let him erase how worried I was about this. About everything. Is that something I can ask for? I didn’t think I could get the words, will you hold me again, out of my mouth.
Nathan pushed up to his feet and slipped a hand awkwardly in his pocket. “I have more windows to clean before I meet up with Remi,” he said, without his usual smile. “See ya.”
I managed a wave but nothing else. Truth was, the coldness in his voice hurt me. And just before he turned, I saw how far away those beautiful green eyes were from this room. From me.
I climbed in bed, every part of me wanting to sink into the sheets. Sleep would soothe my heart from worry about Sophia and being a copy and getting hauled back to school … or to my death.
I groaned and forced myself to get up. I needed to move, do something other than what Leah would’ve done a few days ago. Other than what copies probably did.
I chose Shakespeare. I walked around my room, reading and refusing to sit or sleep or die as I read slowly enough that I understood what the heck he was talking about.
When Sophia announced that it was time for dinner, I made good on my promise to attend, even though I wanted to be alone. I sat next to Emma again.
Sophia ran through her basic questions for everyone quickly—what chores were done, what schoolwork for me. No one brought up Cecilia Neal or her empty bedroom.
“And you, Remi? Did you clean the toilets like I asked?”
Remi leaned into the table and dropped her fork, a dramatic sound in the silent dining room.
“I think it�
�s funny how your own grandson was mopping floors today and Leah has yet to lift a finger,” she said, rolling her eyes. That name cut through me. Leah was the copy hunters left at a Catholic school. I preferred Christine, the name and the girl. “We all think it’s ridiculous, but I guess I’m the only one bold enough to say it. So here it is, I refuse to wash another damn toilet until the princess does one first.”
Sophia slammed her hand on the table, and I jumped out of my skin. Emma rubbed my shoulder. Both her thoughts and her eyes said that Remi wasn’t speaking for her. Paul didn’t seem like he would care if I did chores, but maybe he was included in the we Remi spoke of. And that could be why Nate ran off after lunch and why his eyes were drilling a hole into the table.
“Watch your mouth,” Sophia said. “Thin line, Remi. This is your last warning.”
The rest of dinner was tense and quiet. Nathan hadn’t looked up since we sat down. No smiles, no jokes. More strangers than friends.
I trailed behind him on the stairs, waiting for a silly face or an invitation to hang out. I knew he could hear and probably smell me, but he didn’t turn around. Before I could say anything to him, Remi bumped my shoulder to pass me. I stumbled and caught the rail.
The world went silent. In moments, I was burning, dying to hurt her. My blood danced with inherited fury. Just like the times I’d been shoved on the stairs in the past. It wouldn’t be magic this time. It wouldn’t be Satan. It would be the thrill of knowing I could snap her in two. The thrill of fulfilling my purpose, using the powers that were trapped inside of me.
No.
Not again. Not here. I couldn’t be Leah. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, begging that girl, that horrible girl, to stay buried where I needed her to be.
“Problem?” Remi said.
“No,” I whispered.
I went up the stairs to my floor, my eyes on the yellow and white flats Sophia made me—sweet shoes for the sweet girl she thought I was.
“Hey, hottie. You coming out with us?” she asked Nate, my friend who seemed upset with me.
“Maybe some other time. I’m tired,” he said.
“Well, you and I can stay in if you want. My bed is a pretty comfortable place to hang out. And I’m sure it’ll be more fun than what you’ve been doing with what’s her face.”
I ran up to my room before I could hear his answer.
Pulling my body in the opposite direction of her hurt like hell. Unnatural, worse than sitting in class and letting those girls taunt me. I couldn’t get her face out of my mind, the human and the animal. She’d only bumped into me and asked out my friend, but I was dying to show her who I really was.
I remembered watching a documentary in Biology last year, on one of those days Sister Margret didn’t feel up to teaching. In it, a tiger had somehow escaped its habitat at the zoo. Before attacking an innocent bystander, it paced in a circle, almost as if it were confused and felt out of place. I’d always felt that way, like someone had let me out of a cage.
My parents had.
They knew they would be killed, probably punished for doing awful things, and stashed me in New Haven where I’d paced for years before almost attacking a few days ago. And now I was pacing again. A tiger living on the third floor of a lovely home, prey underneath me, prey on my mind.
But I couldn’t attack. I couldn’t ruin another hiding spot. I had to ignore Remi and control myself.
The scent of lemons wafted around me, the wrong kind of citrus, as I sat on the sofa, trying to think of Remi as a bratty teenager and not a thing I should kill. Sophia had beaten me up here. It was her second deep cleaning of the day.
“I’ve been meaning to speak with you about Remi,” she said, leaning in the archway between my bedroom and the sitting room. So much for getting her off of my mind.
“Why?”
“I wanted to make sure she isn’t ruining your stay here. I know how things were before. I don’t want you to be intimidated by anyone. I’ll ask her to leave if it would make you more comfortable.”
“I’m fine,” I said, and flipped on the TV. I frowned. The channel was still set to Nate’s cartoons. I checked my phone. No messages.
“Okay. But if she upsets you in any way, just say the word and she’ll be history.”
And there she was, treating me like the queen again, or more like the owner of this house. I mashed the power button, silencing the zany sounds of the cartoon, and met her under the archway.
“Sophia, I know about the house. I know it’s mine,” I said. Her face blanked. She bowed her head. When she raised it again, her face was different. Soft and apologetic. “Paul did a spell with salt. It said Cecilia Neal.”
“Christine, It’s … I’m … oh, dear,” she struggled.
“Did I buy it? Did you buy it with my money?”
Shaking her head, she grabbed my hands. I wanted to open my heart and let my secrets bleed out. I wanted her to say something soothing, something like, you’ve got it all wrong, sweet angel. Copies aren’t evil, but I couldn’t. Literally couldn’t. My throat tightened, making me feel like I shouldn’t say or admit to anything else. The blood test in particular. Something told me to keep it to myself forever.
“I didn’t have to buy it. You already owned it. You inherited it. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to live alone.” She paused and continued in a whisper. “Given your condition.”
Condition? Depression? Psychosis? Or my natural tendency to hate all things? If she knew of my parents, unless they pretended to have magic, she should know about me.
“I wanted people around you, and they needed a place to stay. I thought if you knew this was your home, you wouldn’t want the kids staying here. I’m sorry.”
“Did my parents live here?” I asked, taking in the room with new eyes. “Did I live here?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I can’t say for sure. I didn’t know Catherine and Raymond or anything about them other than the money. It could just be a property they owned that is yours now. There’s another in Los Angeles.” She moved her wrinkled hands to my face and twisted her lips. I’d only known her a few days, but the action was so Sophia that I softened. “Forgive me, sweetheart. I hate lying, but sometimes…”
The pain in her eyes hurt me and made me want to trust her even more. And I lied all the time. I was lying to her right now for something much more serious than a house. “Sometimes you have to,” I finished for her. She nodded and pulled me tight into a hug.
We stayed like that for a long minute. I didn’t know she was crying until she pulled away.
“I’m sorry. I saw an opportunity and I seized it. They need jobs and homes, and you need to interact with people. You’re starved of it. And that’s my fault, too.” She broke again, throwing her face in her hands and crying fiercely. “I let you stay at that school. I should’ve. I could’ve...”
I sighed. Sophia felt guilty for not rescuing me sooner, and she was too nice to feel bad about anything, especially about neglecting someone who was too dangerous to exist.
“You came at the perfect time,” I said, thinking of what she’d stopped and that I’d made a friend, however distant he’d been today, because of that timing. “And they can stay, even Remi, for as long as they want.” She mumbled a thank you through her dying cries. “And you can stop pretending to live here. We all know.”
Sophia chuckled and dried her eyes.
“I’ve been married to Greg since I was nineteen. I was going to move in, it’s just weird being away all night,” she said. “Are you sure it’s okay with you?”
I grunted and grabbed her hands. For a moment, it felt like she was pulling away, but then she squeezed my hands and smiled. Maybe I’d imagined her looking afraid.
“What is it, love?” she asked.
“I need you to stop treating me like I’m special. Don’t ask my permission for things. I’m just the girl you got from school, not royalty. I gave you money that I’m not sure y
ou’ve taken, but that doesn’t mean you have to wait on me. If everyone notices, I don’t want to be resented for it.”
She raised my hands to her mouth and kissed my fingers … every one of them. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I changed my mind about the money. I felt awful about taking it from you. Greg paid for the kids. And I wait on you because I want to make sure that you’re happy and that depression stays away from you.” I sighed again. If Sophia thought I was depressed, she couldn’t know I was a copy. My secret would be safe as long as I didn’t snap. “I’ll ease off of the pampering. I can even give you a chore if you’d like.”
“Okay.”
She scanned the room, twisting her mouth and humming. “Ah. When you get out of the shower, put your clothes in the hamper for me.”
“That’s it?”
She chuckled. “Baby steps, dear. Have sweet dreams.”
She vanished, porting herself to Texas, I guessed. I didn’t think I needed to worry about Sophia. It seemed like she knew less about my past than I did. But I did have other things to worry about—Catherine, Raymond, and how fast Remi had made dark desires rush into my heart, made my skin prick with anticipation of how good it would feel to hurt her.
The hot shower didn’t calm me. I paced in front of my bed, thinking about my parents. This room had the feel of a master bedroom and bath. I’d bet they slept here.
I ran my fingers along the canopy post. Gross! Did I sleep in my parents’ bed … where they used to …
Actually, they were probably not that kind of couple—in love and affectionate. They probably only slept together to make me, the thing that would eventually kill for them, if they even had then. Maybe there were labs involved in breeding. Maybe I grew in a Petri dish.
The room got too stuffy to stand, clouded with worry. A heaviness Leah would sit in, drown in, unaware of herself slipping under. I went to the window, pulled back the thick, floor-length curtain, and opened it. It creaked, like the joints hadn’t moved in quite some time.
The window opened to the roof. It was flat enough to sit on. I lay under the stars, listening to the whistling sounds of trees and the symphony of bugs. I shivered, not from cold, but from a familiar and terrifying feeling. I glanced at my arm, hairs telling me what I knew to be true already. I was being watched again.
“I’m fine, Sophia. I hope you don’t think I’m about to jump,” I whispered, hoping it was really her watching.
I heard a faint ruffling in the distance and sat up, heart pounding, preparing to flash to a new hiding spot if I needed to, if the hunters had found me. A gust of wind blew through the trees, mimicking the sound enough that I could convince myself I didn’t need to worry right now.
The hairs fell on my arm, and I relaxed back onto the roof, my eyes watering. I allowed myself a few tears, but I didn’t spiral out of control. The tears seemed appropriate. They seemed to whisper, I don’t know who to be more afraid of, them or myself, as they fell.
“Stars bring prayers to heaven,” I said, quoting something Whitney said once. We were eight and she had finally started to realize how weird I was, how I never talked to anyone, how I rarely even talked to her. She’d kept me up far past my bedtime, rambling about her parents while I just stared at her.
“You don’t wonder what they were like?” she’d asked, still jumping around the room at ten o’clock, watching her hair bounce around and making herself dizzy.
“No,” I whispered. It came out all rough and hoarse, quite possibly the first thing I’d said in hours.
“Then you’re an alien from Mars. No, Jupiter. No, Pluto. Esther … I mean … Sienna … thinks about her parents. She said so today. I heard her.” I closed my eyes, wishing I could do the same with my ears. “I wish I could meet them. I wish. I wish. I wish.”
She went on for another hour about how the stars had just carried her wish to heaven while I wondered why I couldn’t feel anything for my parents. I would answer that question with evil magic a few years later. And Nate would amend that with evil copy after that.
The stars never helped Whitney meet her parents, but maybe they would deliver my wish.
“I wish I could be good. Be Christine, Nathan’s friend.”
Once I opened a window in my mind to think of him, worry flooded in. He’d ignored me at dinner and all day after scarfing down his lunch like he had a fire to put out somewhere.
Whitney told me once that having no friends was better than me. She was screaming at the top of her lungs as I stared out of the window, wondering why she cared at all. I’d always been the same. Maybe she was hoping I’d grow out if it, but I didn’t. I was always sad and tired and … me.
“Crap.” I groaned. I’d done the same thing to Nathan. Been too quiet. Too weird. Normal people have bright personalities, and when he saw that I wasn’t born with one, he was done.
I didn’t want to be that girl anymore.
I crawled back into my room and ran to his. I wanted to be a good friend and a good person. It was what I desired, what I wanted to stand for. And that’s who I was, according to Sophia.
I made it to his room before I remembered he could be in there with Remi. I still needed to try. I didn’t try hard enough with Whitney, and I made her hate me so much that she joined Sienna and tortured me every day. I took a deep breath to steady myself and knocked. A bed creaked, and the door opened a second later.
“Yeah?” he asked. He stepped into the opening. My breath stalled at the sight of his bare chest. Remi was right, I’d missed out. “Hi,” he said. I hadn’t recovered. “What’s up?”
“I can come back if you’re busy,” I said. “I just wanted to apologize.”
“For what?” I stammered for a second, and he looked down at his chest. “Oh. Sorry. Hold on.” He disappeared from the door and came back with a shirt on. “Why do you need to apologize?”
“I know how I am. I’m weird, not fun to be around, but I promise I’ll try harder if you give me another chance.”
“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.” He opened the door and pulled me to his chest. I wrapped my arms around him, remembering to keep them at the friendly height. “There’s nothing wrong with you. I’m just having a bad day.” I sighed, relieved that I still had my friend and proud that I hadn’t started crying. “Do you want to come in?” he asked.
“Yep.” I didn’t want to stop hugging him, but he dropped his arms. I had to drop mine. His room was small but as nice as the rest of my house. He shut the door softly and leaned on it. I went over to his full-sized bed. He had laundry piled on top of it—jeans, t-shirts, and boxers.
No Remi.
I sat on his bed because he’d sat on mine. It didn’t seem off-limits or weird. Well, it wouldn’t be for as long as I could restrain myself from sniffing his pillows or something equally as creepy.
He plopped down on the other side of the pile. “Want help?” I asked, gesturing to the clothes. He nodded, and I grabbed a white t-shirt from the top. He laughed, and I raised a brow, asking for the joke. “What?”
“I was just thinking … you’re going to eventually stick your hand in that pile and get my underwear. I was imagining what you’d say.”
I chuckled. “Probably something awkward.”
“No doubt.” I threw the half folded shirt at his face. He held it there. “No doubt,” he repeated, a little softer, like he’d gone somewhere else for a moment.
“Want to talk about your bad day?” I asked.
“I’ve just been in a mood, and I was trying to stay away from my best friend so I wouldn’t annoy her.” I smiled and shook my head, trying to tell him that he could never annoy me. Not this me, anyway. “But I can’t really tell you why because it will be weird. It’s about a girl.”
His words punctured me, letting out the little hope I’d built, and had tried to ignore, for an impossible future with him as more than friends. There was something going on with him and that stupid panther. But if he was having a bad day, it was my job to cheer him up
. I never did that for Whitney, and I didn’t want to lose him.
“You can talk to me about that kind of thing,” I said. “What are best friends for?”
“Why not? It may make me feel less stupid if I just tell you.” He cleared his throat and chewed on his bottom lip. “I’ve been feeling horrible since I made a move on this girl that I don’t belong with.”
I’d say. Remi sucked and he was perfect. They so didn’t belong together. I nodded, trying to be encouraging anyway. “What did you do?”
“Kissed her.” I almost gagged. Remi was pretty, but she smelled awful to him, and acted awful to me. “You see … she’s a multimillionaire and owns this house, and I’m homeless. She’s also beautiful, and I occasionally turn into an animal. Way out of my league. Pretty dumb of me, huh?”
His words swirled in my head, mixing and getting all confused with the tiny hope left in me. I knew I’d imagined it.
“What do you mean? League? What was dumb?” I asked, shaking my head, trying to stay with him in reality this time.
He jumped up from the bed, pacing in the little space between it and his dresser.
“I kissed you yesterday. My stupid instincts misread things. Nothing happened. We just sat there all night. But when you showed me that credit card and your bank account, I felt even worse for making a move.”
“What move? You’re not talking about Remi?”
“No. She only acts interested in me when you’re around. She walked away as soon as you went to your room. And yes, a move. I kissed you on the cheek, and I’m embarrassed because you’re rich. You didn’t make me feel bad, of course, but you didn’t have to. I … I’m sorry. ”
“For what? Sophia kisses me on the cheek. It didn’t mean anything,” I said.
“It did to me, but whatever. It doesn’t matter. I’m not good enough to kiss you anyway,” he said.
My heart sped like I’d been running for hours. Nathan … liked me? Like more than a friend? I stood, then sat, then stood again. Unsure of what to feel or do or say.
“Are you joking?” I managed, then found the rest of my words. “I’m nowhere near good enough for you.” That was an understatement. He was perfection from head to toe, inside and out. Worth way more than fifty-two million dollars. And I was someone’s copy. “Since the kiss was on the cheek, and since there wasn’t a chance in hell someone who looks like you would want to kiss me, I didn’t think you meant anything by it.”
He dropped his head and clasped his hands on the back of it.
“You’re blind,” he said. “And clueless. How does holding you for hours and kissing you not mean anything? What was I supposed to do? Stick my tongue down your throat?”
The thought of that knocked the wind from my chest. It was what he’d done in my dream. Fantasy. There wasn’t a chance that he, my friend, would want more from me, the spaz.
However unbelievable, however sure I was that I was about to wake up from some amazing dream, I was somehow bold enough to whisper, “Yes.”
He moved too quickly for my eyes. I only saw a blur as he closed the distance between us. He grabbed my face with both of his hands and kissed me, a sweet and perfect, gentle press of his lips to mine.
I couldn’t say it was better than I’d hoped it would be. I’d never hoped for this. This was never supposed to happen to me.
I was supposed to fear elimination, for no real reason at all, until I met the death I’d waited for. I was supposed to be secluded, unwanted. Sad and alone with no one to kiss. With no one to want to kiss me.
His lips parted, and I went with what common sense said to do—to part mine, too, tilt my head, and move with him. It made me dizzy, wonderfully so. I clutched his shirt for balance, and he lifted me up in his arms.
My feet dangled over the carpet as I lost myself in the kiss. Everything that had been wrong before was gone. Whoever my parents were, whoever I was meant to be, didn’t matter. Because I was this girl, the one who was kissing Nathan. The one who’d want to kiss him forever. Damn magic, damn psychic-hunter powers, damn anything that wasn’t his lips.
He sighed into my mouth. If he weren’t holding me, I would’ve fallen over. His lips trailed to my cheek and stopped at my ear. “Are you sure about this?” he whispered. “I’d be okay if you changed your mind. Okay in the sense of being totally devastated, but still okay. You could do way better. Someone rich.”
“Stop that. It’s not even like you to pity yourself,” I said. He sighed and chuckled softly. “It doesn’t matter how much money I have. It doesn’t make me better.”
“I’ll try not to let it bother me. I’m sorry about how I acted today. I just don’t like mooching. I’m going to find a job really soon and an apartment, and you can come visit.”
“Please don’t go!” I didn’t mean to shout or to grab him like a lunatic. “I mean … I wouldn’t want to be here without you. I mean …” I couldn’t rephrase that. I couldn’t make myself sound less desperate.
“Then every dollar I get will be yours.”
I knew I wouldn’t take a penny from him, but I let it go. I kissed him this time, getting the hang of things, learning our rhythm—lips close, peck, lips open, linger, linger, linger, peck.
He pulled away, and I froze there, with puckered lips, wanting to feel his again. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” he asked.
“I’d love to,” I said, smiling hard enough to break my jaw. A date? With a guy? This guy? Yep, this dream would be over any second now. “Where?”
The smile vanished from his face. “We’re not leaving. I haven’t even left the gates myself, afraid someone would follow me here. I’m terrified of someone finding you. Lydia Shaw. Anyone. The thought of it freaks me out.”
It was very easy to forget she was out there searching while I was safely hidden, gaining a friend and getting kissed.
He put me down, his face still serious. Out of his arms, I felt less protected and more open to my worries. Vulnerable to the truth I’d somehow managed to forget for a moment—I was his enemy, my parents hid me from agents who were currently searching for me, and I was not the person he thought I was.
But I’d just been asked out on a date, a real date with my first friend, so panic would have to wait until it was over.
He grabbed my hand and led me down the stairs and into the kitchen. He popped a bag of popcorn, and I poured two glasses of the lemonade we’d had at dinner. I let him choose the movie. He dropped the remote when we heard machine guns.
“Jackpot,” he said. “Wait, are we supposed to watch something with shopping or dancing or something.” I shook my head, and he pulled me to his lap like I weighed nothing. “I’m sorry. I’m too much of a gentleman to let you sit over there. The TV’s all blurry from that angle.”
I laughed and kissed his cheek. How I’d thought this was a friendly position last night was beyond me. I was clueless. The explosions in the background were the perfect soundtrack to how I felt cradled in his arms. Now that I knew he liked me and that I could kiss him, I was smoldering in his lap.
He looked down at me and smiled. I couldn’t return it. My bottom lip was trapped in my teeth. His smile faded, and he leaned down to kiss me, like he knew what I wanted without me saying it.
It was sweet and soft again, and I immediately wanted another. He smiled when he pulled away, and I tried to watch the testosterone-soaked movie and not think about being in his arms, or how gorgeous he was, or how his lips felt exactly like they had in my dream.
“Chris, do you believe in God?” he asked, as a guy with guns in both of his hands shot up a house.
I turned away from the movie to answer his random question. “Uh … yeah. Why?” He hunched his shoulders. It was easy to forget that everyone didn’t believe in God, living at St. Catalina. “Do you?”
“I didn’t. Well, I guess I didn’t give it much thought before.” He touched my nose and smiled. “I can’t stop thinking about it now. All of this seems too unbelieva
ble to be happening by chance. Me getting captured by a hunter who would snag a witch with a guardian angel a day later. That same guardian angel took a beautiful girl from school and put us under the same roof. I’m becoming obsessed with the idea of there being someone up there controlling all of this. I thought it was luck the first night, but after kissing you …”
He paused and moved his eyes to open space. I filled in the rest of his sentence in my head. After kissing me … he felt there had to be a God. That this was more than luck. I agreed. This had divine written all over it. So wonderful you had to believe in something bigger, in someone who knew the end before it came. Everything I’d gone through in my life was worth it if it led me here, to a date with Nathan Reece. Being hidden, teased, the disaster during the fire alarm, all of it. I turned back to the movie so he wouldn’t see my eyes water. I held the tears in, refusing to cry on my first date.
After the guy ransacked the house and found the safe he’d wanted, he went on another killing spree—its cause I wasn’t sure of. He came to his next victim, a guard dog at a drug lord’s house. Of course, being the manliest man of all time, he punched out the dog. The poor thing collapsed next to his doggy bowl. It looked nothing like Nate in that form, but I still had to laugh.
“You better not be laughing at what I think you’re laughing at.” I covered my face, laughing even harder. “I turn into a dog. So what? I don’t eat dog food. I don’t take potty breaks outside. What else could you poke fun at?”
“Nothing, Nate. It was … sorry.”
He peeled my hands away from my face, his serious now.
“If it makes this less weird, I’m not … attracted to you as a dog.” I rolled my eyes. He didn’t need to make this less weird. “When we played, I remember not even thinking of you as pretty. I just wanted you to have fun and throw the paper. That’s all. I swear.”
I didn’t think he noticed his very human hands drawing circles on my arm. Instead of reassuring him about the shifter thing, I closed my eyes and let the feel of his fingers on my skin sweep me up.
“Oh … did Sophia steal your money to buy this house?”
“Inherited,” I said, struggling to hide the tremor in my voice. Embarrassed, I peeked at him with one eye. He smiled and held two fingers against my neck, checking my pulse.
“You okay? Your heart is flipping out worse than it did upstairs.” I groaned. I’d forgotten how great his ears were and that he would hear me reacting to him. “Don’t worry about it. You make me way more nervous than I could ever make you.”
“Not possible.”
He laughed hard, throwing his head back. “Are you kidding? I freak out and act like a dork every time you come near me, and I didn’t sleep at all last night after I struck out with that kiss.”
I pulled myself up and closer by his neck. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize what you were doing. I feel awful.”
He pressed his forehead against mine and brought his hands to my face. “I think I’ve recovered nicely.” Frozen with our lips moments apart, he smiled at me. I’d seen that smile for days, I’d want to see it forever, but his lips had a far more interesting purpose now.
I learned the difference between kissing and making out then. I’d thought the terms were synonymous. Kissing was what we’d done in his room. Lips moving in sweet harmony. Making out was not sweet, even when our lips moved slowly.
There was the occasional soft bite. He did it first, and I imitated it later. And hands were more stationary during a kiss. Our hands were everywhere. This sort of chemistry was as fast and easy as our friendship.
I liked kissing. I loved making out.
“Damn you, Sparky!” Nate and I jerked away from each other. We’d gotten carried away. The movie was off, replaced by a show with laughter in the background. We’d been publically breaking Sophia’s rule about hanky-panky long enough for my lips to be numb. “You stole my girl!”
Paul laughed as I crawled out of Nathan’s lap. Emma and Remi were standing there, gawking, too. Embarrassed was not the word. Nathan smoothed my hair down, probably to no avail, and I flattened the top of his that I’d messed up.
“Is this what you two do when we’re gone?” Emma asked, smiling.
I hid my face in my hands. “Does this mean you can’t be my second wife?” Paul asked.
“That’s exactly what this means,” Nathan said. His warm hand grazed my stomach as he tugged at the ends of my shirt that had been hiked up. After, he grabbed my hand and laced his fingers through mine.
“Awww,” Emma crooned.
“Yuck. So this is what you like? That’s really gross. I think I might vomit,” Remi said. My muscles clenched, like she’d poked Leah with a stick and yelled at her to wake up.
I may as well have been sitting in a desk at St. Catalina, fighting the innate murderer inside of me and calling it the devil. I could almost feel the knee socks cutting into my calves and the itchy fabric of my skirt against my leg. My eyes could only see fire, then and now. My thoughts couldn’t get passed what it could do, how fast it could do it. And my chest, tight and heavy, wanted me to scream and make someone feel more pain than me. Like it was an order, like I had no choice. But my guilt begged me to focus on something in my classroom that wasn’t death, on something in this living room that wasn’t Remi.
Nate rubbed a thumb across the back of my hand, across my scaly snake skin, bringing life to it, bringing life to Christine. I willed myself to feel her, that little flower bud fighting to bloom on a thin and fragile stem. She couldn’t do this alone, be something she was never meant to be. She needed me to try. Nate brought my hand to his lips and kissed the center of my palm. I clung to that feeling, of blooming, of life. For him. For me. For Remi.
“I know, right. Chris is slumming it. I was surprised she liked me, too,” Nate said, owning the rough end of her comment because he was perfect. Remi grunted and left the living room. It was quiet until she slammed the door I allowed her to have.
“Is she ever not like that?” Paul asked. Emma shook her head. “Why are you friends with her?”
“Sophia and my parents think I’m so weak-minded that I need someone like Remi around.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s not it at all. I am fully aware that she is out of her mind. But traveling the world and partying with her is better than being in Paris with my parents. All day it’s ‘Edith used to party too much at eighteen, too. Edith wore too much make up, too. Edith rolled her eyes and missed curfew, too—and she died from it’. They are waiting for me to turn into my sister. That’s enough to make someone like Remi seem pleasant.”
“She’s annoying, but I understand that,” Nate said. “I can’t imagine living at home anymore.”
“Amen, brother,” Paul said. “My parents are younger, meaner versions of Nana. They act all sweet like you’re their baby boy. Then the moment you start a fire in the house when you’re drunk, they turn on you.”
We all laughed at him. He had the least tragic life here, and he acted like it. Carefree and a little spoiled.
“Shut up, Paul,” Emma said. “Lovebirds, I’ll have you know, you guys owe me big time for this hook up. Don’t worry, I’ll remember that we’re friends when I make my request.”
“Excuse me?” Nate said.
“I gave you her number, Nathan. This is my doing. I’m the matchmaker.” I smiled at her. We were officially friends, it seemed, bringing my lifelong total to two. Possibly three if I could count Paul. A door slammed, and Remi stormed down the stairs. “Where are you going?” Emma asked.
“Out … with people who actually like me.” She glared around the room, at me the longest, begging me to fix her face. “You four have a nice time together, calling me crazy. Pretending,” she said, pointing at Emma. “Like you’re not exactly like your sister.” She jerked her finger over to Paul. “Like you’re not the misfit of your do-gooder family.” She pointed at Nate and smiled. “Like you don’t belonged tied up outside.” She paused and nodded to me. “And y
ou—”
“And her, nothing,” Nate interrupted, pulling me closer.
Remi laughed and nodded, like her point had been made anyway. “Goodnight, kids,” she said and walked calmly to the door like she hadn’t verbally stabbed them and almost me.
We just sat there for a minute until Paul burst out laughing. “She clearly belongs in an institution,” he said.
“Totally, and I’ve been patient,” Nate said. “But the next time she says something to or about Chris, I’m going to shift, jump on her bed, and forget that I’m housebroken.”
They laughed, but nothing was funny to me. I didn’t want a rival because every cell in my body was sure she wouldn’t survive a fight with me—the fight she’d threatened me with if I didn’t stay away from Nathan. And she’d just walked in on me doing exactly the opposite of that.
Maybe she really liked him. Maybe I should apologize.
Emma perched on the floor by Nate and me, smiling like we were the cutest things in the world. “So what are you guys … just hanging out? Or an official couple?”
“She’s my girlfriend. Officially. I even asked her if she was sure,” Nathan said. I gasped, too fast to stifle, and they all turned to me. “Did I speak too soon?”
“No. No. It’s fine. I just…” I shook my head. I wanted to say thank you or scream or something that would express how amazed I was. I just couldn’t form the words.
He leaned in, shielding our faces with a pillow. “I’m sorry, Chris. I just thought—”
“No,” I whispered. “I want to be your girlfriend, of course. I was just surprised. Pleasantly.” My boyfriend kissed me behind the pillow, soft ones that felt like his lips were melting against mine.
“I can hear you kissing my ex, dude. Not cool,” Paul said. Nate pulled away and tossed the pillow at his head.
I guessed I really had to apologize to Remi now. I hadn’t just taken Nate off the market for the night. He was mine now. Officially not hers.
“I love it,” Emma said. “A witch and a shifter. Your kids will be crazy strong. Hunters are going to hate them!”
The three of them laughed, but I didn’t. I couldn’t breathe all of a sudden. Kids? My kids will be … human. Well, since I couldn’t think of a single reason why anyone would ever break up with Nathan and not marry him if he asked, they’d also be half shifter.
I couldn’t just fight against Leah and hope my other problems would go away because one thing would never change—I was human. And my boyfriend of three seconds knew nothing about me, thought copies were horrible and disgusting, and had just made out with one.
“You two need to be more careful. Nana would be pissed about this if she found out,” Paul said. “She’s so weird lately, especially about Christine.”
They gave their word that they’d keep Nate and I a secret from the usually sweet Sophia. I wasn’t worried about getting kicked out, of course, but I didn’t want to upset her. She’d risked so much already, and a guy she’d brought to live here made a whole lot of contact with a human tonight.
According to Nate, I wouldn’t be considered human to everyone. Did that mean I didn’t need to worry about violating the treaty?
Emma and Paul left, smiling and waving, and he pulled me back to his lap. “Where were we?” he asked. I pulled myself closer to remind him, and for the next hour, I forgot to care if the treaty applied to me or not.
We managed to watch another episode of the crime show he liked during the breaks we took from each other. After we picked up the popcorn we’d knocked over at some point, we turned off the lights in the living room. We held hands as we climbed the stairs to the second floor. We couldn’t find the end to our goodnight kiss. No part of it felt final, every pull of our lips felt like another should follow. I lost track of time as I strained myself closer, running my fingertips along his muscular shoulder line.
“This could go on all night,” he said. He kissed my cheek and pulled away. “Goodnight, babe.”
“Babe?” I asked, still holding on. Still breathless.
“Yes, babe. And baby. And honey. And any other name I can come up with for my beautiful girlfriend.” He kissed me once more, with his hands at his sides. He was gone when I opened my eyes. If my lips weren’t tingling, I’d swear I imagined the whole night.
I missed him before I made it to my room. Luckily, my phone was ringing.
“Hey, babe,” he said. I smiled and crawled under the covers.
We talked all night, leaving me no time to plan what I’d tell him about my powers. He was really goofy and thought boogers and bodily functions were hilarious. I’d laugh with him, then we’d talk about something serious. Our pasts were both empty and dark. I had the dead parents who I knew nothing about and the other tragic part of my life—being Leah. He had John and Theresa who never paid him any attention. I was sure, maybe psychically sure, that they weren’t his parents and something strange and heartbreaking went on there. But then we’d talk about earwax, and everything would be okay again.
