by C. J. Hill
At moments like this, her head resting against Jesse’s chest, the music bothered her the most. She didn’t want to hear anything except the sound of Jesse’s heart underneath her ear. Instead she heard the faint sounds of M. C. Hammer’s “U Can’t Touch This.”
Overdrake knew how to ruin a moment.
Jesse stroked Tori’s hair, letting the breeze pick up pieces and flutter them around his fingers. “Next summer seems so far away.”
Tori lifted her face to see Jesse’s expression. “We don’t have to wait until next summer to see each other. We can find a way to meet during the school year.”
Jesse’s hand moved from her hair to her back, caressing a soft path down her spine. Even then she could tell it was an apology. “It’s too dangerous to contact each other outside of camp.”
“I’m not asking for your address. We’ll meet someplace. On the second Saturday of the month, I’ll just happen to be at the Natural History Museum, admiring the stuffed elephant in the main lobby. Let’s say noon, so we can go somewhere for lunch.” She said all of this as though it had just occurred to her, a butterfly of an idea that had just fluttered in. Butterflies were harmless.
He didn’t answer. His hand was still making apologies on her back.
“Or,” she added, “we could meet every Saturday, if you’d rather.”
Jesse let out a sigh. “I’m a team captain. I’m supposed to enforce the rules, not find ways to break them.” His hand made its way back to the tangle of her hair again. “I know. Call me a hypocrite. I’ve been kissing you all summer.”
“I’m not going to criticize you for that.” She smiled and threaded her fingers together against the small of his back. “Go ahead and break another rule.”
She felt like Eve right then, luring Adam to take a bite of the forbidden fruit—wicked, but too desperate to care. The rule was stupid. Anything that kept them apart was wrong. He had to see that.
Jesse didn’t move, didn’t even bend down to kiss her. He would have done that yesterday—joked about her corrupting him and then pressed his lips to hers. Tori searched his eyes, trying to read her future in them. She only saw flickers of gold, patches of reflected sunlight.
It was doubly frustrating. She and Jesse could both fly; that made them counterparts. Or at least it was supposed to. Slayer counterparts could sense things about each other—moods, feelings. If they were close enough, one could tell where the other was without looking. It helped them while fighting.
Sometimes Tori was sure she sensed what Jesse was thinking and feeling. Most of the time, though, the ability completely abandoned her. She had no idea what was going on in his mind right now.
She would have thought that her romantic feelings messed up her connection, but her other counterpart abilities with Jesse were sketchy, too. She couldn’t tell where Jesse was without looking. Not like she was supposed to. Sometimes Tori could feel Jesse watching her, and when all the Slayers were in a group, a part of her automatically kept track of where he was. It wasn’t quite the same as counterpart-knowing, though.
Tori knew how it was supposed to work, because she was also counterparts with Dirk. In Slayer genetics, apparently seeing what the dragons saw was close enough to hearing what the dragons heard to give she and Dirk counterpart abilities.
When Dirk came within a radius of a dozen yards, she knew where he was, could feel his presence without seeing him. When they were together, she felt his moods in the same way she felt the sun warming her shoulders or a cloud moving to blot out the light. It was just there, obvious.
She hadn’t told Dirk that Jesse kissed her, but after the first time it happened, Dirk had looked at her and known. He hadn’t said anything. He hadn’t needed to. She had felt his sharp disapproval easily enough.
Counterparts were supposed to have one other ability. If Slayers were away from the simulator for more than half an hour and lost their powers, they could recharge their powers by touching a counterpart who still had them.
It didn’t work on Tori, not with Jesse or Dirk. Once she lost her powers, she didn’t get them back until she was within five miles of the simulator again.
Tori stared at Jesse, watched him standing against the rich green backdrop, and tried to sense what he was thinking. She couldn’t. Or maybe she could and didn’t want to accept it. “We both live in the D.C. area,” she pointed out. “We could easily run into each other. It would be like coincidence … but with a helping hand.”
Jesse dropped his arms from around her. She felt the distance in that movement before he even stepped away. “Tori, there’s a reason for the rules. We shouldn’t … We can’t…” He let out another sigh. “My feelings for you are already getting in the way of the mission. We’ve got to be careful.”
She blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Today at practice,” he said, as though it proved his point. “You called out for help and I completely lost focus. I can’t afford to make those sorts of mistakes. I can’t let my feelings get in the way of my judgment.”
A stone of dread formed in Tori’s stomach: a hard piece of reality that she didn’t want. She shifted away from Jesse. “Okay. If a dragon captures me, I’ll try not to distract you with my screams for help.”
“Tori,” he whispered. It was as though he hated saying the words even at a low volume. “Unless we stop the dragons, people will die. Cities will fall, maybe the entire nation will. With the dragons helping him, Overdrake might have enough men and weapons to pull it off.” Jesse paused, still trying to make her understand. “If today’s practice was the real thing, how many people would have died because I didn’t want to lose you? We need to be better—at least, I do.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. The stone of dread was still there in her stomach, heavy, cold, and growing larger. “So I guess the second Saturday doesn’t work for you.”
The wind fluttered a strand of Tori’s hair into her face. Jesse pushed it back into place. “We’re only making this harder on ourselves. It’s better if we make a clean break of it for the school year.”
“‘A clean break’…,” she repeated. It sounded like something you did in surgery—cut through bone or muscle with a quick scalpel stroke.
“Only for the school year,” he said. “It wouldn’t be fair if I asked you to give up dances and all that stuff, just because I can’t be there for it. I don’t want you to put your life on hold, waiting for next summer.”
“Oh.” It was the only word she could say. Jesse didn’t want to meet her and he wanted her to date other guys. She felt as if gravity had taken effect again, as if it were pushing her downward. This wasn’t a good-bye, it was a breakup. Her heart began racing, although she couldn’t tell if it was anger or pain that made it beat so frantically.
She felt his gaze on her, knew he was looking at her with sympathy. His voice was soft. “I don’t want it to be this way.”
Tori doubted that. He wouldn’t have broken up with her if he didn’t want it to be this way. He probably had a girlfriend back at his school. After all, Jesse was not only tall, dark, and handsome; he was smart, responsible, brave … and he was breaking up with her.
Don’t cry, she told herself. He wasn’t emotional about this, why should she be?
Tori stared at the leaves stretching out around her. They were still so bright and green. They hadn’t realized yet that summer was ending.
“We’ll be together again next June,” Jesse said.
And next June he would be willing to break the rules for her? He could do that at camp—kiss her in the treetops—but not outside of camp?
“Say something,” he said.
There was no point in saying anything. You couldn’t debate someone into loving you. “We should get back to camp,” she said. Without waiting for his reply, she dived from the branch into the waiting air.
CHAPTER 4
Tori went directly to her cabin and began packing her things. She had put it off before. Packing up things
meant that camp was really over. Now she put her clothes in her suitcases with a numb sort of speed. Just get through this, she told herself, then everything will be fine. She would pack up her feelings for Jesse and never open them again.
Tori had more luggage than any of the other Slayers. She had brought actual outfits, a half a dozen different shoes, jewelry, books—the sorts of things she’d used at other camps. Tori hadn’t realized she would spend two months training to be a Slayer. She hadn’t even realized she would be here that long. She’d only signed up for the first session and then had to persuade her parents to let her stay an extra five weeks.
Lilly and Alyssa had already finished packing most of their stuff. Their duffle bags and backpacks sat waiting by the end of their bunk bed. Alyssa was braiding Lilly’s blonde hair into a French braid, identical to the one she wore. Lilly and Alyssa usually looked like they were trying to be copies of each other.
“Don’t forget to bring your iron next year,” Lilly called to Tori. “It made the perfect doorstop.” Lilly and Alyssa had not only mocked Tori for bringing an iron to camp, they constantly took it off her dresser and used it to prop open the cabin door whenever they wanted a breeze.
“And bring the designer sheets again,” Alyssa added. “Those were just divine.” Alyssa and Lilly both snickered.
Tori wasn’t going to miss them at all.
Rosa, Team Magnus’ healer, had finished packing and now sat on her bed reading a romance novel. All the Slayers were athletic, although Rosa hardly looked it. She was petite with long black hair, flawless dark skin, and large brown eyes that made her look more like a doll than someone who could pick up a grown man and throw him across the room. Every once in a while she gave the cabin an update from her novel. “Fleur’s carriage is going down a lonely country road. Pues, that can’t be good.”
“Of course it’s good,” Bess said, tossing a couple of shirts into an open duffle bag at her feet. “Fleur is either going to run into a handsome highwayman or she’s going to be saved from vile highwaymen by some passing hot single duke.” Bess added some shorts to her pile. “That’s why, after we’re done being Slayers, I’m going to do nothing but roam lonely country roads. Apparently that’s where all the action is.”
Bess was tall, with chin-length curly brown hair that was frequently in states of disarray. Her bright blue eyes and pointed chin made her look elflike, as though she really belonged here in the forest. “How much do you want to bet that within five pages Fleur’s lips will be quivering in unspoken passion?”
Normally Tori would have added a comment about Fleur, lonely country roads, or Bess’ definition of action, but she wordlessly kept putting things in her suitcases. She’d hardly said anything since she’d come inside.
Rosa put down her book and studied Tori. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” Tori said. She didn’t bother faking a smile. “It’s just, you know, camp is ending.” Even though Bess and Rosa were Tori’s friends, she couldn’t tell them that Jesse had dumped her. Not when she’d never told them that Jesse and she were a couple to begin with.
Bess wouldn’t have told her father that Tori and Jesse were breaking the rules—Bess was the biggest practical joker in camp, so her respect for the rules was questionable at best—but Rosa would have felt the weight of keeping that secret. Rosa was the type that looked for things to worry about. And it had never felt right to tell one friend and not the other.
Rosa watched Tori for another moment. Rosa was also the type that noticed pain lurking in the corners of people’s eyes. She didn’t press Tori, though.
A few minutes later, everyone got up and left for dinner. Tori didn’t go with them. “I’ll come in a little bit,” she said. She was lying. Her appetite was gone and she wasn’t about to sit at the same table as Jesse and pretend everything was fine.
Outside, she heard the guys leaving for dinner, too. Kody called out, “Bess, don’t think I’m going to forget about this next year. You’re toast—or at least a few of your belongings will be.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bess said airily.
Shang let out a disbelieving grunt. “You blocked our cabin door with your shield.”
“Hmm,” Bess said. “Maybe your doorknob is just stuck.”
“Right,” Kody said, drawing out the word with his Southern accent. “That’s why we all had to haul ourselves out the window.”
“Aren’t there bars on your window?” Alyssa asked. Both of the cabins had bars to keep intruders from breaking in.
“Used to be,” Kody said. “I yanked them clean off. I’ll let you explain that one to your dad.”
“You know,” Bess said, unconcerned, “you’re all going to miss me tomorrow.”
Murmuring to the contrary went through the group.
“You will,” Bess insisted as the group walked away. “Especially once you realize I’ve stolen all your car keys.”
Tori kept packing. A clean break. She didn’t want to hear Jesse’s words repeating in her mind. It was already a loud enough place. Still the phrase was there, its volume irrepressible. Jesse wanted a clean break? It was a stupid thing to say. You couldn’t break a heart into anything but jagged pieces.
Tori lifted a stack of books off her dresser. A pink wildflower she’d pressed between the pages fluttered down onto her bed. Jesse had given it to her. Once while teaching her to fly low, he’d skimmed along the forest floor, plucked the bloom, and put it in Tori’s hair.
Tori held the flower by its threadlike stem. She had pressed it between the pages so she could keep it forever, so it wouldn’t wilt or fade. Ironic. It hadn’t, but Jesse’s feelings had. She stared at the flower, wanting to crumple it up and wanting to keep it, and then felt furious at herself when she couldn’t do either. She could only stare at it and blink away tears.
She wasn’t going to cry about this. She had never cried over a guy before and she refused to start now. She would go fly somewhere, find a place to be alone, and not come back until she could pull herself together. She dropped the flower on her bed and walked out the door.
Dirk was leaning against the stair railing that led to her cabin’s patio. It surprised her to see him. She’d been so caught up in her emotions, she hadn’t sensed him there at all.
He looked like he was waiting for someone or something.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He gazed at her casually. “Deciding whether to come in and talk to you.”
Tori stopped, one hand not quite reaching the railing. “Did Jesse tell you to talk to me?”
Jesse and Dirk had been close friends ever since they came to camp. Jesse might have sent Dirk because he figured she needed her other counterpart’s consolation.
Dirk let out a scoff. “No.” The way he said the word made it clear that guys didn’t do that sort of thing. He gestured to her door. “I noticed waves of emotion rolling out of your cabin and figured you might want to talk about it.”
Tori walked down the stairs. “I’ll be fine.”
Dirk watched her silently, looking right through her. “Come on,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “Let’s go talk.”
“I don’t want to talk,” she insisted, but she went with him, letting him lead her toward the trail that went to the lake. Her feet thudded against the packed dirt in noisy, graceless steps. She dropped his hand. It didn’t seem right to keep holding it.
“You don’t have to talk,” Dirk said. “We could make out instead. That’s the perfect way to get back at guys you’re mad at.” He was teasing, trying to joke her out of her bad mood. “At least it would be perfect for me.” He gave her a wicked grin, an encouraging one. “At any rate, you should give it a try.”
She rolled her eyes and didn’t answer. Even before Tori had realized she was Dirk’s counterpart, she had suspected he was a player—the type of guy who flirted for sport and collected girls’ hearts like they were trading cards. Romance was always a game for those sorts
of guys. And not one she wanted to play.
They kept walking through the forest. Curtains of trees on both sides of the trail held out their branches and shimmered their leaves like peddlers displaying their wares.
“Tell me what happened,” Dirk prodded.
What had happened—that was the question, wasn’t it? Yesterday Jesse loved her and today, well, not so much. It was all for the good of the country, of course—because that breakup excuse sounded way more noble than “It’s me, not you.” It was much better than “I just want to be friends.”
She had probably always been just a summer distraction, a way to kill time until he got back to his real life. She didn’t want to talk about any of it. If she tried, the shards rattling around inside of her would come loose and cut her to ribbons. Dirk would get the information out of Jesse, if she didn’t say something—and that seemed worse, Dirk going up to Jesse and asking him why she was so upset.
“Jesse said I should date other people over the school year.”
“Score,” Dirk said. “You can start right now. I’ll be your first date.”
Tori ignored his suggestion. “That’s the thing that makes me the maddest about this. Jesse is pretending he’s doing this for me, when in reality he just dumped me.”
She told Dirk everything then. How Jesse said their separation would only be for the school year, and then in the next breath told her they needed to keep the rules so he wasn’t influenced by his feelings for her.
When Tori finished, they were at the lake. The canoes had already been packed up somewhere. The worn wooden dock sat forlorn and empty in the water. Dirk didn’t go to the water’s edge. Instead he sat down on a large boulder not far from the trail. “That’s the difference between Jesse and me. I don’t feel guilty for rescuing you today.”
