He started the truck and backed down the driveway. “No one would see him as a threat. I’m sure most places he goes he’s completely unnoticed. Plus, he’s afraid. He’ll be cautious and not barrel in irrationally.” His gaze flitted toward me.
“You couldn’t have asked anyone else?”
“Like you said, we need someone to go in undercover. Who better than Herman? He doesn’t even have to pretend.”
“Weeks, though. The chick could be dead by then.”
“Haven’t we established there is no girl?”
I crossed my arms, pressing my fists against my ribcage. “Maybe she was traveling or hadn’t moved here yet.”
He didn’t respond.
An earlier thought surfaced again. “What if she moves into that yellow house or something?”
He shrugged, not looking convinced. “It’s possible.”
“So, could we, you know, keep an eye on it?”
Aiden raked his hand through his dark hair, letting out a slow breath. “I suppose.” He hesitated. “I don’t think this Sable Gage guy is the one you’re keen on finding. The man in those “visions” and the man who killed Del—” he stopped, hearing my nearly-silent jagged breath, “…had the gift of fire. He was a Kember.” His eyes met mine. “From what it sounds like, Sable Gage has the ability to torture with this mind, like some Dreas.”
“That’s why you don’t wanna jump on this? You think he’s harmless.”
“Not harmless. Just not the threat we’re seeking.”
“What about the Rygon army? Doesn’t that fit?”
“Possibly, but you have to observe this from all angles. This Sable Gage could very well be a Rygon himself. He could even be a normal person who knows witchcraft. You never know.”
“Witchcraft? Funny how people always jump to that.”
Aiden shot me a side-long glance. “How do you know it’s not true?”
“Oh, please.” I almost laughed. “All that voodoo BS? There’s no way. I believe in what I can see and feel.”
“So do I, but I’ve also learned not to rule anything out.”
“You can’t tell me you believe that.”
He shook his head. “I think people have misinterpreted what they’ve seen. I’ve been wrong before, so I’m not ruling it out…completely.”
Funny, that’s what I’d thought earlier. People and their wild imaginations. “If Herman does find out some good stuff, then what?”
“I’ll send the information to Ian.”
“And then?”
“He’ll send the Guard in.”
The Guard was made up with ten to fifteen Kembers. Not just any Kembers. Wicked awesome ones who could kill you with a flick of their fingers. I’d had the privilege of meeting a few a couple years ago at a Kember graduation. They worked just under the Authority. If a problem required brute strength and mad skills, the Authority sent the Guard to intervene.
“Right now, they’re searching for the Kember responsible for Delmari’s death. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem to stop by Portland.”
I flinched, a surge of anger breaking through. “Well, if you ask me, they’re doing a piss poor job. It’s been weeks! They’re just a bunch of idiots who don’t know what the hell they’re doing.”
His jaw dropped a fraction. “You shouldn’t talk like that.”
I scoffed, knowing he was right, but too angry to admit it. “I can say whatever I want.”
His fists tightened on the steering wheel. “I was a part of the Guard for six years. It’s a lot of hard work and finding people—especially a rogue Kember—takes time and a lot of patience.”
I froze, now feeling like a jackass. “Oh, uh…” I searched quickly for a subject change. He’d told me he was twenty-four. If he was in the guard for six years…“Does that mean I’m your first Drea?”
“Yes.” He didn’t say “yes” in a good way, either.
“Look.” I couldn’t believe I actually felt bad about my comment. “I didn’t mean…I get angry and…” I risked a glance at his stiffened posture and dropped the subject.
Putting all differences aside, I had to admit he was kind of helpful and pretty smart. Obviously. He’d been part of the Guard. Enough said. That explained his respected badass reputation. I was a little impressed. Unfriendly or not, you had to respect a badass.
“So…” I cleared my throat. “About Portland?”
Chapter 10
The second we arrived back home, I raced for the shower. No need to infect the house.
I had a hunch Aiden’s thoughts hadn’t been far from mine. The ends of his wavy hair were still damp when he stepped into the kitchen an hour later, wearing a fresh black shirt and faded blue jeans.
He unwrapped a Hot Pocket and placed it in the microwave.
Words—no—threats bubbled in my throat. I pressed my lips together and turned back to my Pop-Tarts in the toaster. I can do this. I drummed my nails on the countertop.
The Portland argument hadn’t ended in my favor. I vowed to give him the silent treatment until he agreed to take me. Childish? Maybe, but eventually he’d need me to talk.
More time passed without him even acknowledging me. Unintentionally, I tapped my foot on the floor, breaking the silence. I needed this. I had to go.
Before I could whirl one of my clever lines—or Pop-Tart—at him, I shoved the plate across the counter and stormed to my room.
After undressing, I grabbed my grey pajama shorts and white tank top, then jerked them on. I curled up in bed, sliding my face next to the wall and pulled the comforter over my head, blocking out the soft glow coming through the window.
Only, sleep never came easy anymore.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the forest lit in flames. When I dreamt, sadistic yellow-eyed men with long, flowing robes killed him again. I’d jolt awake seconds after, a scream on the edge of my tongue, unsure if I’d let it out or stopped the noise just in time.
More times than not, I woke in a cold sweat. Other nights, morning seemed to come moments after closing my eyes, which still hung heavy with the need for more rest.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t this night. Light from the rising sun seeped through the curtains, bathing the room in a pale pink. Pushing the damp strands of hair from my face, I climbed out of bed and walked to the door.
I tiptoed down the hall, past Aiden’s closed door, and straight into the living room. The big flat-screen TV didn’t even tempt me. With my luck, some show about forest fires or murderers would be on. Peeking around the half-wall separating the kitchen, I sighed. Like I could eat after I’d been to hell and back. Thank you, subconscious.
Turning back to drop on the couch, an open door, I thought to be a closet, caught my eye. Instead of hangers, or what could’ve been a stash of dead bodies for all I knew, there were stairs.
Besides my own room, I hadn’t checked the place out. It was everything anyone would expect a two-bedroom, two-bathroom house to be: Small.
Nightmares forgotten, I glanced over my shoulder and snuck toward the doorway. A dim light shone down the stairwell, leading to a blue padded floor. A clinging sound, like metal on metal, reverberated in the distance. Maybe I’d seen too many horror movies, but I pictured some guy with a leather mask swinging an axe. Oddly, the thought made me even more curious. I fidgeted with a string on my shorts and looked around the room once more, making sure Aiden hadn’t crept up on me with his freakishly quiet movements. Debating for a tenth of a second more, I descended.
A huge room, the length and width of the entire house, stretched out before me. Blue and red foam mats covered the floors and walls. “Where’re the straitjackets?” I said under my breath. Ian probably put us in this house for my benefit, but if any of us should’ve been put in a padded room, it was him for placing me with Aiden.
Creepy, faceless practice dummies and dangling punching bags bordered a section off to the right of the room. In the back corner were weight machines. Hence the clanging.
I started toward him, wondering why he hadn’t heard me. Or maybe he had but was hoping I’d get the hint and leave. Even though I still wasn’t talking to him, I couldn’t bring myself to go. Not yet, anyway. Must’ve been a result of social deprivation.
Oh. My. I bit my lip and stopped right above his head. My eyes roamed over his godsend eight pack and defined chest. Forget the firemen pictures I used to have pinned to my wall. This was the real deal. A huff of air escaped his lips every time his muscular arms lifted the bar. Bulky couldn’t quite describe his body type; neither could lean. He seemed to be right smack in the middle of both. Cut. Ripped. And…A warm flush spread over my face. Wow.
I could’ve gawked all day—and would’ve—had I not noticed little black wires, running from his ears to a pocket on his workout shorts. He was listening to music? Real smart. How’d he know I hadn’t been screaming bloody murder, scrambling to get away from some psycho Rygon? He didn’t.
So...I screamed.
The bar flew out of Aiden’s hands and hit the padded wall. He bounded off the bench and rammed into me, sending me sailing into the air. Shocks of pain shot through my entire body as I came down hard on my back.
Wide-eyed, I stared at the ceiling. That did not just happen.
In an instant, Aiden stood over me, face pallid. “Are you hurt?”
I blinked a few times and pushed myself into the sitting position. My wrist throbbed, making me wince. I pulled it into my lap.
Aiden’s jaw clenched as he crouched down in front of me and took my hand in his. Lifting his intense eyes to mine briefly, he grazed the tips of his fingers over the sides of my wrist. He applied the tiniest bit of pressure as he examined it, checking for broken bones, I guessed. I watched him, feeling too enthralled to be bothered with pain. I’d have never thought his rough, Rygon-killing hands could be gentle.
I averted my gaze, but my eyes didn’t get far. They stopped, drawn in by the black tattoo—his Kember mark—covering his left peck. All Kembers had them. The fancy back-to-back Ks symbolized that they took the oath and completed their training. Wow it looked good on him. Really good…maybe even sexy—Good hell! He must’ve knocked me down harder than I thought. I couldn’t think of him as even remotely appealing. He was a Kember. Because of our different energies, our two races didn’t hold that kind of attraction for each other. It was unheard of—unnatural. Like a cat and dog getting busy. Gross. No way would I get lost in his strong, soft hands…
Aiden’s fingers stopped abruptly. His eyes widened and hardened in the same instant but never moved from my hand.
I stopped breathing. Did he feel what I’d been feeling? Damn it.
In a tight voice he asked, “What were you thinking?”
What was I thinking? He didn’t want to know about all the indecent thoughts spinning around in my head. “Well—”
“Why’d you scream?” Apparently he thought twice about invading the inner workings of my mind.
“I…uh wanted to know if you could hear me.”
He glanced up through the dampened hair that hung in his narrowed eyes. “You couldn’t have said something like ‘Aiden, can you hear me?’ You had to scream?”
I looked away, my cheeks burning. That way would’ve been a lot less painful. “I didn’t really…”
“Think about it?” Aiden finished my unspoken thought, his voice low and unapologetic. “Maybe you should start. Then you wouldn’t find yourself in these kinds of predicaments.”
“If you would’ve been doing your job, I wouldn’t have yelled. It’s not my fault you bulldozed me.”
“You screamed like someone was ripping out your throat You expected me to finish my set? Get up calmly?”
“No, I just didn’t—”
“Think about it. I could’ve hurt you.”
No, he couldn't have. I was already broken. I stared at the wall, refusing to meet his gaze. One of those very rare moments where I had absolutely nothing to say, crept in. Probably from the awkwardness. I screamed, actually screamed, to get his attention. How old was I? Two?
I opened my mouth, but the words took a second to come. “Is it broken?”
“No.” He released my hand and stood, walking toward a little black bag stationed against a wall. “Just sprained. If we wrap it, it’ll be okay in a few days.”
On his left side, from his armpit to his hip, were black symbols; some kind of cool writing. I leaned forward to get a better look, but the curvy lines and dots meant nothing to me. Taking a deep breath, I averted my gaze, realizing I’d stared longer than necessary. “I didn’t know we had a basement. Any other secret passages I should know about?”
After almost a minute, he returned carrying a wrap. “I’m down here every morning. Are you that unobservant?”
“No. I usually just don’t get up before six—like normal people.”
Again, Aiden took my hand. Warmth spread through my body at his touch, making it impossible to think about anything else. I looked down, cursing myself.
If Aiden felt it, he hid it well—thank goodness. Fitting the bandage between my thumb and pointer finger, he wrapped it down around my wrist. “I’m sure you didn’t get up this early to get pummeled.”
“Actually, I didn’t realize you were down here. I thought the door was a closet, and when I saw the stairs, I got curious.”
“Curiosity woke you?”
My palms started sweating. Did he know about my nightmares? Had I actually screamed in my sleep and woken him? I fingered the thin strap on my tank top and looked down. “Can’t we go to Portland? I’ll do anything. I’ll read that freakin’ bird book. I’ll—I’ll try not to do crap like this…” Me and my big mouth.
His profound eyes swept me. I wondered what he saw: a poor pathetic girl, begging to be taken to her death, or a spiteful smartass so caught up in revenge she couldn’t see straight.
Finally, Aiden focused his attention back on my wrist and finished wrapping it. He nodded toward the workout equipment. “Let me finish here. Get an overnight bag packed, and I’ll meet you at the truck in twenty minutes.”
I got my way without mind control? I just about questioned but didn’t dare risk the chances of him giving me a different answer. Once Aiden released me, I sprinted back to my room. I could barely believe we were actually going. The thought almost made me giddy.
My steps faltered and my heart sank when I spotted the black backpack in the corner of my closet. His voice echoed in my mind, repeating his words on that last day. “Grab your pack, now.”
A jagged breath escaped my lips. I brought my arms across my chest and bit my knuckles. My thoughts, like they did every so often, tried rushing back to that day. I fought it, thinking about Portland. The Kember might not be there, like Aiden said, but that didn’t mean this trip would be a dead end. Someone somewhere had to know him. He’d pay for what he did. Focusing only on that, I packed my bag and walked outside.
Aiden stood from his crouched position by the truck tire. He dusted off his hands and strode to the driver’s side. “Did you bring the book?”
I scowled, pulled the passenger door open and threw my small bag over the seat. Gripping the paperback, I waved it in the air. If I was lucky enough, a huge bird would swoop down and take it off my hands.
Luck evaded me.
I climbed in the truck. “So, let me get this straight: we’re not starting any fights and we’re not looking for that Sable Gage dude?”
“Correct.”
I threw my hands up in exasperation. “Then what’s the point of this overnight venture?”
His eyes flickered to the book in my hand.
“You can’t be serious. When I asked to go to Portland, it wasn’t so I could waste away reading some outdated book.”
“I suggest you get to it then.”
I grimaced and motioned to the stereo. “Well, maybe I could if you’d turn off this crap music. You might be u
sed to banjos and bad grammar, but I grew up with some class. No need to make me suffer.”
Aiden put the truck in reverse and backed down the driveway. “It’s the only station that comes in clear out here.”
I slumped back. “In that case, I prefer static. Maybe you should take it as a sign.”
“A sign of what?”
“That we live too far from civilization.”
He reached under the seat and grabbed a bulky black CD case, tossing it into my lap. “I prefer to stay out of cities.”
“Why? You have some weirdo obsession with pine trees?”
I thought I detected a bit of humor in his eyes, but it disappeared before I could be sure. “The smallest sounds keep me awake. Out here, unless it’s a rare night, the worst things I hear are animals and, of course, you.”
Me? Great. My nightmares. Had I been sleep talking? I’d been known to do that. What had he heard?
“So it does get annoying.” I shot him my best smug smile.
He took a moment, choosing his words carefully. “Every gift has a flaw. Sometimes the hearing is…inconvenient.”
“I bet it drives you crazy in crowds of people.”
“It’s like being trapped in a small room while dozens of people are each having their own boisterous conversation. You don’t know which to tune into or out of.”
“How’d you get through school?”
“Earplugs.” He lifted the wavy hair covering most of his ear. “No one noticed. During the summer months when I attended the Kember Academy, they only allowed me to wear them at night…I had to learn to pull certain voices from a crowd.”
Kembers attended normal public school like we did. Once they started seventh grade, they were required to attend the Kember Academy during the summer. Their junior and senior years, they enrolled in the academy full-time, training and preparing to take the oath. Some Kembers didn’t. Some actually refused to complete their schooling and went out into the normal world, disgracing their names.
“Is that the reason you joined the Guard? They wanted you to spy or something?”
Darlings of Paranormal Romance (Anthology) Page 144
