Entice

by Jessica Shirvington

  “Where are you hurt?” He stared at my legs, not looking at my face. I thought I’d done a good job of covering up the pain. Until that point, I didn’t think he’d noticed.

  My hands hovered over my knees. Lincoln started from the bottom of my baggy sweats, gently rolling them up.

  “Is this okay?” he checked, still not looking at my face.

  “Yeah.”

  As he got to the area around my left knee, I tried to hide the intake of breath that meant pain. He slowed down, gently holding out the fabric, moving it up and over the joint, only stopping when he was halfway up my thigh, well clear of the injuries.

  “The other one?” he asked, looking at my other leg.

  I gave another small nod. He let out a heavy breath through his nose and proceeded to do the same thing, moving the leg of my pants up tenderly until the entire wound was uncovered. When his hand reached the top of my thigh, his fingers grazed the skin and my stomach lurched.

  Is it wrong that I can let him still have that effect on me in any situation? Probably.

  “Why didn’t you come to me?” he asked.

  “It was late and I was too tired, Linc.”

  “Too tired to deal with me? Is that why you didn’t tell me about Phoenix?”

  “I would have told you if I’d seen you. I tried to yesterday, but you were out with Magda again. You’re never around anymore,” I said, trying to hold back the tears.

  “Just relax while I fix these,” he said, as he concentrated on drawing on his healing power. I noticed he didn’t suggest we try doing it together.

  No surprise, I suppose. But it still hurt.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back into the soft pillows. I was sure, given half the chance, I’d just fall asleep.

  Lincoln’s power worked its way through me, seeking out the problem and finding it in my legs. His warm hands were at once strong and gentle as he moved them slowly from my ankle, up my shin, before stopping beneath my knees. Everything in me tingled, and it wasn’t because of our powers.

  I felt the swelling subside and the wounds close over. I sighed with the almost-instant relief, like somehow his healing had submerged my body in a bath of warm, creamy honey and I wanted to sink deeper and deeper.

  Finished with its work on my legs, Lincoln’s power seemed to assess me again, looking for more injuries to fix. I felt it work its way up through my body and wrap around my heart before melting away.

  Could it sense the pain in my heart? Could he?

  With my eyes still closed, I felt Lincoln’s warm hands leave my legs, and a moment later his fingertips brushed the hair off my forehead and slid down my cheek. They were trembling until they cupped the side of my face. I didn’t want to open my eyes. I wanted to stay like that forever, feeling the way his hand pressed against my face just enough that somehow, in that one touch, he told me more than he would ever say aloud.

  But I had to open my eyes. Had to see him. He was so close, I think my heart skipped a few beats.

  “Better?” he asked. His green eyes seemed to glow as they took me in, and I wondered if it was me sinking into his eyes or him sinking into mine. Either way, it felt like a terrible torment to pull my gaze away from him.

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  He moved back a little and I resisted the urge to reach out to him, instead looking down at my knees. The wounds were still there, but they looked like they were weeks old now. It hadn’t been a terrible injury overall; he had almost healed me completely.

  “I haven’t been there for you. I should have known you wouldn’t have…”

  He reached down to the bowl beside his knees and dunked a cloth, wringing it out before running it softly over my legs, cleaning away the blood. The water was perfectly warm.

  “When I saw you on that dance floor with Spence, it just looked so…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t go through watching someone else…not again.”

  I didn’t know what to say. All I could think was that Onyx had been right. I was never going to be able to fix the damage I had caused to Lincoln by spending that time with Phoenix.

  “You know, I’m feeling much better,” I said awkwardly, standing up. “Since it’s just you and me here now, how about some training?” I mustered a small smile. “Believe it or not, even with all the extra help, I feel like I get less done these days,” I carried on, desperate to do anything other than have this talk.

  Lincoln, seeing my point or maybe feeling the same way, looked hopeful. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  I nodded, jumping up and down a couple of times, testing my legs. “Yep, all good.”

  “Okay, then.”

  We moved into the big open space, and after turning on some music, Zoe’s sparring mix, we didn’t waste time getting into it. I was surprised to realize I had managed to pick up a few things, mostly from watching Spence in action, and I enjoyed trying out a few moves that Lincoln hadn’t taught me. I actually caught him by surprise a couple of times.

  “New tricks,” he said.

  But like all good competitors, he didn’t just take it. He came back at me, reminding me how strong he really is, how fast and capable in any fight.

  “You need to move higher with that kick, take it from your hip,” he instructed me on the move.

  I nodded and tried the same move, this time better.

  He gave a small nod of approval and we kept going, both of us in our element. Fighting and training—we did that well. I reveled in the simplicity of it.

  Lincoln moved like Nyla, tactically superb. In the years to come, he would become such a master warrior, it would be near impossible for any lone exile to challenge him. I was glad of that. Glad for him…sad for me.

  At that, other thoughts started breaking through my barriers. How could I ever expect him to explore the possibility that we could be together? If I was the cause of weakening his power, taking away his strength, how would he defend himself so easily? How could he ever forgive me for taking that chance?

  While I wallowed, Lincoln set me up and took me down easily. He put his hand out.

  “Come on, Vi. If you want to train, train properly. You’re fighting like you did with Spence the other day. What’s the problem?”

  The way he said it…No, the way he looked at me when he said it, as if I was pathetic, as if my efforts were derisory.

  When he pulled me up, I used the hold I had on his hand and drew him closer as I crouched down and swung a foot out and around, taking his legs from under him. He fell flat on his back as I slapped a hand to my mouth. It had caused more impact than I’d planned.

  “Point taken,” Lincoln said, smiling as he put a hand out for me to help him up.

  I grabbed it and he pulled me back down to the ground with him. It knocked the wind out of me and I had to suck in a few deep breaths. I wasn’t the only one with ragged breathing.

  “One good turn deserves another,” he said, his eyes looking at me the way they shouldn’t. The way I wanted them to always. But lying half on top of him, instead of returning his smile or responding with banter…

  “Are you in love with Magda?” I blurted out without thinking.

  Lincoln’s eyes went wide and then looked away. He was thinking fast. I rolled away from him.

  “That’s why you followed…” His head went back in realization. “Oh, into a hotel. It must have looked…and I was so mad at you. Violet—” He sat up.

  “It’s okay,” I said quickly, sitting up too. “If you are, I mean. It’s not as if I have any claim on you. I can’t be…We can’t be…So you should be able to…I just need to know.”

  “Violet, it’s not like that. Magda’s been helping me with…something,” he pleaded.

  “Well, there’s a reason you trust her, want her by your side and not me. I’m not an idiot, and I…I heard you two talk
ing in your room when she first came back. You said you didn’t want me to know, that it would hurt me. Is she pregnant?”

  What is with me and the verbal diarrhea?

  Lincoln was silent for a moment. I couldn’t bear to look at him, but then I felt him shaking and looked up in time to see him burst into laughter and roll around on the ground.

  “Oh. I’m glad you find this all so funny!” I said, totally grumpy now. I made a move to get up, but he rolled back toward me quickly and wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me there.

  “Wait. Sorry. It’s just—it’s not like that with Magda. And if she is pregnant, which I doubt very much, it is not by me. That’s physically impossible, Vi!” He tried but couldn’t hold back a few last chuckles.

  Yeah, yeah, hilarious.

  “Hey?” he snapped, sobering. “Is that why you were off your game in training, why Spence took you down so fast?”

  “It wasn’t that fast,” I said, still sour.

  “That just proves my point,” he said as he shuffled away from me.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. I just don’t want to be a cause of distraction for you.”

  It was like he went into some other world when he spoke like that. Quietly. Lately, he was so insular. It wasn’t like him.

  “Well,” I continued, trying to shake off his cryptic words. “What were you and Magda talking about then?” I was not ready to give in.

  Lincoln sat up on the floor, crossing his legs, and I did the same. He studied me for a while and finally sighed.

  “While she was away, she came across a small group of exiles. Over the course of her vacation, she gradually took them out. Anyway, one of them was a telepath, so she was also able to probe into some of his thoughts. It turned out he worked for an exile called Nahilius.”

  “That’s who that jock-exile who killed all the homeless people warned you about. You said he was no concern.” I didn’t hide my suspicious tone.

  “He won’t be soon.” He dropped his head, and when he spoke again his voice was different. “Nahilius is the exile who went after my mom. Magda made the exile she was hunting tell her where Nahilius was, which was here. When she got back, that’s what she was telling me.”

  “Well, why couldn’t you tell me that?” I asked, not ready to let go of the hurt.

  “Because if cancer hadn’t killed my mom, he would have. He ruined her, Vi, ruined her last months alive, took everything she’d worked for, and I couldn’t save her until it was too late. I swore I’d make him pay, and I promised myself I’d never let anyone else I love be hurt by him.” He stopped, like he’d already said too much.

  “But you let Magda help you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you trust her?” I added through the lump in my throat. Trust was the basis of love. The terrible idea stirred that perhaps he didn’t even realize he was in love with her.

  He shook his head. “Yes, but don’t make it out to be something it isn’t. And anyway…”

  He stopped again, mid-sentence.

  The silence between the two of us said everything.

  And it doesn’t matter because we can never be together anyway.

  My heart sank and I wanted to bolt, but instead I took a deep breath and tried my best to look at him, even if I couldn’t hold his eyes.

  “Tell me everything, then. What do you know about Nahilius? Do you know where he is?” I asked, hoping that at least we were finally communicating.

  Lincoln looked around the room and then back to me, and I could actually see it happening. He was locking up…and there was nothing I could do.

  “I’m close. That’s all you need to know.”

  But I had to try.

  I moved forward till we were only inches apart. I put a hand on his arm, petrified he’d swat me away. In one touch, I tried, the way he seemed to be able to, to say all the things I couldn’t bear to say aloud, couldn’t bear to hear rejected.

  “Linc, don’t shut me out. Please. I know you want to stop Nahilius and protect everyone at the same time, but you can let me help.” And then I couldn’t stop myself—my hand traveled up to the side of his face and as I held it there, I felt the energy between us and the searing heat of desire engulf me.

  I was so close, I could smell him, that soapy clean smell he always had, mixed in with the light sweat that reminded me I was with a man. Heat radiated from him and I wanted to be wrapped tight within his arms, but sitting there on the ground beside him, I could see he’d already put up the walls.

  And in the end, I have to too.

  My eyes cast down and I let my hand slide from his face, but before the last finger broke contact, he caught my hand in his and held it there—no, pressed it into his cheek. I looked up, our eyes locked, and for one brief moment of indulgence before he let go, before my hand dropped to the ground, I was sure.

  Sure, beyond all doubt.

  He was my other.

  “The course of true love never did run smooth.”

  William Shakespeare

  It’s not a small thing, knowing that in this world, you have a true match. It’s hard to keep a level head and avoid hyperventilating when everything inside you is exploding with new truth. Harder still to look at the person, the soul, your perfect complement, knowing he can’t be yours and you cannot ask him to be. Ever.

  Lincoln had disappeared to take a shower and change. I was pretty sure his main motivation was to get away from me. I didn’t blame him. Sometimes the air between us felt so thick, it was barely breathable.

  My wall, the one Lincoln had given me to paint, remained covered by a huge drop cloth. I’d been working on it off and on. I wasn’t much further than a double coat of primer and a huge awkward streak of green that I knew I’d probably have to return to white. Before he’d finally agreed to let me paint the wall, things had been so different. I was human, to start with. I wasn’t perfect. But I was just me, baggage and all. Now, everything had changed. I wasn’t sure what was left of that person—or who had taken her place.

  I stared blankly at the wall and decided I wouldn’t touch it again until I was sure of what needed to be there, until I knew who it was painting the wall.

  Lincoln’s phone buzzed on the kitchen table.

  I walked over and grabbed it as I called out to him.

  No answer.

  I looked at the screen, alight with a new text message. I hadn’t intended to read it, but it was already half visible. And…I could see who it was from.

  Have a good lead. City Comm Realty. If we don’t strike now, they’ll—

  The message ended there. To see more, I’d have to open it, and then Lincoln would know I’d been snooping. Why would Magda be tracking down a real estate company?

  The distinctive click of Lincoln’s bedroom door startled me into action. I quickly replaced his phone, exactly where it had been before, angling it slightly toward the edge of the table, and darted back to my wall, where I pretended to be readjusting the drop cloth. I heard him walking down the hall, heard his footsteps slow and stop outside the spare bedroom, the room with all his mother’s belongings locked away. He never goes in there but can’t bear to part with the sorry possessions that only remind him of what is no longer.

  “Hey,” he said, walking into the living area and then behind the breakfast bar. He opened the fridge.

  I was still tugging awkwardly on the sheet, scared to look at him.

  “You hungry?”

  “No. I’m fine. I…I think your phone buzzed.”

  I listened as he closed the fridge, went to his phone, and pressed a few buttons. I turned to face him in time to see him slide it into his pocket.

  He fake stretched and made a show of checking his watch. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I have to get going,” he said, messing around with things,
putting them away—he didn’t want to talk with me anymore. He grabbed his keys and wallet. He was barely making a show of being discreet, desperate to get out the door. Back to Magda.

  It was as if everything that had just happened between us no longer mattered. We didn’t rate high enough, even though I was sure he’d felt the connection between us too. Somewhere in those thoughts, my frustration built to anger.

  Why is it that every time I discover something new about myself, it only makes everything harder?

  “What are you doing, Linc?” I asked, the tone of my voice alerting both of us to my temper. I put my hands down on the opposite side of the breakfast bar and stared straight at him. “Where are you going?”

  “It’s just a thing I organized earlier.” Lincoln’s eyes darted around the room.

  “You’re avoiding talking to me? I think I deserve to know what’s going on.” And it was true.

  Lincoln ignored me at first and I thought he was going to snap back at me, but he just dropped his head.

  “I made a promise to you, so I’m not going to lie, but I have to go out and I want that to be okay with you.”

  “And what if it’s not?” I replied, daring him. I couldn’t help it. I hated knowing he was choosing Magda over me again.

  “I’ve had to trust you in the past, Violet.”

  He used my full name—never good. I looked intently at my feet.

  “I could ask you questions that are hard for you to answer,” he pressed, “but I respect that if you think we should discuss something, you’ll tell me.”

  He was skirting around something, turning this back on me somehow, and I could feel my anger morphing into panic.

  “Well, don’t let me hold you back. Say whatever you want. Ask whatever you want.”

  His eyes snapped up briefly, but as if he couldn’t stop them, as if he couldn’t hold my gaze, they dropped again. When he spoke, it seemed like it came from a far away place.

  “Are you glad Phoenix is back?”

  My throat tightened instantly. I could feel a rising blush, which I desperately wanted to smother. I bit down hard on the inside of my lower lip.