When I called myself an idiot earlier this evening, I wasn’t wrong. “Why do they say that stuff?”
His lips curl up to give me the tiny hint of a smile. He tilts his head to one side and looks into my eyes. “They want to make you jealous. They want you to push me away. And they know your weakness.”
“What’s that?” I don’t trust my own brain to put the puzzle pieces together.
“You don’t like to share.”
I think back over all their remarks—all innuendos and snide suggestions only sending my brain in a downward spiral of jealousy. He’s right. They’ve worked out my biggest fear and are using it against me. Those girls are playing to win, and they mean business.
“Last night, I flipped for the first time. Tonight is the first time I’ve left the roost since I saw you, and the first place I came is here. I tried to get to the hotdog van, but I’m a bit slower than I was even though my wing is fine.” He holds out his arm to show me. “I’m so unfit. It took me much longer to fly here, but … well, I’m not sure why I bothered. I thought … I thought …”
“You thought what,” I whisper from my seat on the stairs. Rocks kneels down on the bottom step so we’re eye to eye.
The heavy crease that has dominated his brow for most of the conversation lifts. His eyes soften as they roam over my face and land on my lips. “I thought you’d shower me with kisses.” He smiles, the anger from earlier gone.
I let out a very unflattering, unladylike snort before launching myself at him. The megawatt smile that lights his face melts away all the lies those girls tricked me into believing. You would think by now I could recognize a liar at five paces with all the practice I’ve had. Rocks stands, pulling me up with him. His hands cup my face.
“I’ve been waiting for you and only you,” he says.
I reach up on tippy-toes and grab the back of his neck. “A little help here, bat boy,” I say, trying to pull his lips into range.
Rocks straightens to his full height and glances around the garden. He’s feigning disinterest, but the smile he’s trying hard to conceal gives him away. I punch him lightly in the ribs.
“Owwf, I’m an injured man remember. Watch it, Beans.”
He leans forward, the look in his eyes is serious again. Running the backs of two fingers down my heated cheeks, he whispers. “I missed you so much. Being stuck with the Camazotz for eight long weeks has driven me wild. The fact I was so far away from you consumed me. Yet, it was thoughts of you and of us that kept me going. Are we good?”
He’s still mine. I never lost him. All I lost was my faith in him, believing their stupid, ugly lies. Rocks chose me—and still does. I’m so happy I could fly.
I nod and kiss him, unable to contain myself any longer. I sigh at the warmth of his lips and body against mine. Stopping for a second, I step back up onto the steps so we’re closer in height. Rocks wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. He’s midnight. He is my moon, and I am his sun. I can feel the smile on his lips when he kisses me again, making me giggle. He deepens the kiss as I open my mouth. I’m alive in his arms after hibernating for too long.
Gripping his velvet waistcoat, I yank him toward the porch swing. Rocks trips on the stairs. It’s so unlike him. He’s always so measured, in control. Maybe he’s as happy to be back in my arms, as I am to be in his.
“Easy there, Beans. Just recovered from a broken arm. Don’t need a broken leg to match.”
The porch swing creaks and groans as we fall into it. The sound is too loud against the Sunday dawn. I have no idea what time it is, but I know it’s really late, or crazy early.
“Shhh, you’ll wake them up,” I admonish with a grin.
“We can’t have that. I’ve got to make up for lost time.” He leans over and nibbles my bottom lip.
A buzzing energy is trying to burst out of every atom in my body. His touch makes me tingle to the point where I might explode. Before I overthink my actions, I scramble onto his lap. I need him close after all that doubt. Rocks holds me tight against his chest. He rests his chin on my head as we swing back and forth in silence.
“This feels good,” he says. I feel his long fingers rub down my back. The connection I’m sharing with my midnight boy is going to be the death of me. “You’re so precious to me. Don’t ever forget that.”
I kiss him again—and again—and again. In fact, we sit and kiss and whisper quietly to each other until sunrise. The sky slowly changes from grey to pink, and I imagine what someone passing by on the street can see and blush—the tall, lethal-looking dude in black sitting with the pretty-in-pink, pajama-clad midget on his lap. Thank goodness the neighbors are late risers.
“Are you going to be in trouble when you go back?”
Rocks snorts. “Yep, but what’s new.”
9. Gypsy Wagon
Rocks doesn’t return until Tuesday after school, and those two and a half days felt like forever. I wasn’t able to text him because he hasn’t been back to the market to charge his phone. Since the whole colony are still living in the cave, he would get into even more trouble for using aeronaught technology in the open, especially with the broken blood oath hanging around his neck.
“You really are back,” Mom sighs as Rocks enters the kitchen. I barely manage to refrain from rolling my eyes. She engulfs him in a hug and pushes him onto the nearest stool. All his favorite treats cover the counter. “You’ve lost weight, dear boy. We can’t have that.”
“Good to see you, Mrs. Phillips.” Rocks glances around, and I die a little inside knowing who he’s looking for.
“I’ll get Mini.” He smiles and the twitch of his nose tells me he’s famished. “Start without me,” I suggest, heading to the doorway.
“Mrs. Phillips, do you mind if I stay for dinner too?”
The answering squeal from my mother—the born again teenager—I assume means yes. For the first time in two months, there’s a lightness to my step. Rocks being back hasn’t changed or solved any of our problems, but I’m not dealing with them alone. I have help shouldering the burden, and that makes my spirit want to sing. Watching the Mini/Rocks reunion causes my cheeks to hurt from smiling so hard. He noticed her new teeth and every changed detail about her, prompting Mom to hug him again.
Since he’s staying for dinner, it was easier to escape Kelly’s attention and head to my room. There’s so much I need to tell him—my brain so wasn’t thinking about this stuff the other night on the porch swing. Rocks sits in his chair, and I’m opposite, cross-legged on the bed. I plug in his phone just in case he gets a minute to himself at the roost and begin my tale.
“You met Enzo?” he half yells. “Why didn’t you tell me? Are you all right? Did he threaten—”
My giggle leaves him totally perplexed. Enzo Ascari in my life is no laughing matter, but Rocks being back has made me deliriously happy.
“This isn’t funny.” His eyebrows dip together under his hair.
“I’ll tell you what isn’t funny—bat attacks.”
I fill Rocks in on everything that has happened since he left. He insists I show him the news articles about the bat attacks. The look on his face when he sees the dead Camazotz I’m sure mirrored mine when I first saw it. According to him, this is bad on so many levels. He paces around my room, frowning or rubbing his temples, and has no clue about who is behind this, or what they’re trying to achieve.
Next we discuss the burning desire I have to tell Parents V2.0 that I know about Parents V1.0. Since Enzo found me, I’ve wanted to come clean. I don’t understand why the urge to tell them won’t leave me, because deep down I’m truly petrified of how they’ll look at me once they know. Yet, I hate the feeling that I’m kinda lying to them by keeping it a secret. Rocks weighs up the pros and cons, and in the end, can’t decide if I should tell them or not.
“You’ll need this.” I throw the velvet pouch at him. His red eyebrow bar falls onto his palm, and he smiles before shoving it in his front pocket.
&n
bsp; “You’re not going to wear it?”
“I’ll get Decker to help me.” My frown earns me an eye roll. “If I want it to be visible when I’m a bat, then I have to put it in while I’m a bat. Otherwise, if I put it in as a human, it will vanish when I flip like my clothes do.”
Ha, how interesting. I wonder if there will ever be a day when I know everything there is to know about my supernatural boyfriend.
“I can help.”
Surprise flashes over his features. “You won’t mind, um, while I’m a bat?” His eyes dart to the doorway and back to me.
Tiptoeing to the door, I quietly close it. Mom and Dad have an open door policy that I’m starting to hate. Facing Rocks, I notice he’s fidgeting.
“Why would I mind?”
Standing near my window, he looks at his scuffed boots and shrugs.
“Rocks?” Stopping in front of him, I take hold of his hands to stop their circuit from his front pockets to his back ones. I receive the most adorable shy smile.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been around and, um,” —he shrugs again— “well, as a bat.”
I huff. “You honestly don’t think I’m still freaked out by you when you’re a bat, do you?”
His hair falls over his eyes. “Well, last time I flipped you had to watch me feed. I worried you might have thought about that while I was gone.”
Silly Camazotz.
Rocks is usually so confident—or appears to be anyway—that when he has moments of vulnerability it catches me off guard.
“I’ve done nothing but think about that, and about how much trust you had in me to help you when you weren’t sure it would all work out. What I witnessed was amazing—just like you. So flip and let’s get this piercing back where it belongs.” I hold my palm out waiting, unable to stop my smile.
Rocks shakes his head, grinning down at me before leaning over. His lips hover just out of my reach. “You’re the amazing one, Miss Connie Phillips,” he whispers, before kissing me softly three times.
* * * * *
Late Friday night, his text requests my presence at the market on Sunday. That’s the day the Sire will decide if they should re-open for business or wait a bit longer. Rocks hasn’t resumed his Bun Lovin’ Barn escort duty since he’s under surveillance, so I hope the Sire consents to opening the market.
Rocks is leaning against their rusted van when I pull into the parking lot.
“I think you should talk to Strickland about your parents and Enzo,” he says the minute I’m in his arms.
“What?”
“It’s all I’ve thought about since you said you wanted to tell them, but I don’t know if you should or not. My father might be wrong about a lot of things, but he does give good advice—so long as it’s not to me.” Rocks smiles, but he can’t hide the sadness in his eyes. His hair falls over them when he looks down.
“Talk to Strickland? Really?” Having a heart-to-heart with the Sire is not exactly high on my list of things to do—ever.
“The colony—we’re like a little village. Villagers share their problems and work everything out together. That’s part of being a community.”
“But I’m not a village member.” I raise an eyebrow.
Rocks chuckles. “You are to me.”
I feel my ears heat up and am glad I wore my hair down.
“Besides he owes you for saving me. He’ll listen. Don’t mention the bat attacks. I want to do my own investigation on that without anyone knowing.”
My shoulders tense at the thought of sharing my fudged-up family tree with Strickland. Then again, he should hardly be one to judge. Rocks peers around the end of the van and scans the sky and branches above us. I follow his line of sight wondering what he’s doing. A second later, his hand slides into my hair, and he pulls me in for a kiss. Sneaky bat.
We find Strickland and an army of Camazotz in human form down near the dairy. Even if I didn’t know Strickland was their leader, just watching him issuing commands and surveying his territory, I’d know he was powerful and not to be messed with. A deadly focus almost oozes from him. Camazotz approach him with a certain amount of caution and scurry off the instant he dismisses them.
The market is a hive of activity. Rocks explains they’re going to open up for business by the end of this week, and every member is on clean up duty. It’s funny how I’d never noticed how few people were at the market each time I visited. Now that most of the Camazotz are here, it’s teaming with activity. They really do avoid being human whenever they can.
“It’s pretty busy. Is this a good idea?” I can’t help but notice the stares and glares coming my way. I like visiting the market but would prefer to not be the focus of everyone around me. The strange thing is the stares don’t seem so sinister now. Maybe not everybody wants to do away with me and hide my body.
“Ignore them. I do,” he replies.
I know that’s not exactly true. Rocks hungers to be accepted for who he is by his colony, but that’s a conversation for another time.
Strickland strides toward us the moment he notices me. His scowl does nothing for my nerves, and I still have the strongest urge to curtsey when he comes to a stop before us.
“Hello, sir.” I look away from his hard stare. He crosses his arms over his muscled chest, but doesn’t issue a greeting. Great. “Um—”
“Miss Phillips, I’m a busy man. Are you going to tell me what your problem is or not?”
Trying not to annoy him any further, I launch into my tale about my adoption and discovering the identity of Parents V1.0. I go off course a little trying to explain exactly why Enzo is such bad news because I’m not sure how much the Camazotz know about illegal drug trafficking.
His scowl deepens, and I feel like that poor minion hit with Gru’s shrink ray. “These are the kind of aeronaughts you expose my son to? That nearly kill him?” he snarls.
I stand tall and meet his eye. “A Camazotz is the kind that tried to kill him. Do not blame that crime on us!” I don’t like thinking in terms of ‘us’ and ‘them,’ but I will not have the human race blamed for this one. I look at Rocks. “Did you ask her?”
He nods. “She was no help.”
“Who?” Strickland asks.
“Zabreena knows the bat that did it,” I explain. “He told me crushing Rocks’ wing was a death sentence. He did it to Rocks on purpose. He knew all about—” Sugarplums, maybe this is stepping over the line. Strickland is waiting for me to finish. I swallow. “He knew how you view your son.” There. Interpret that as you will, Mr. Judgy-McJudgypants.
Strickland holds up a hand and snaps his fingers. An enormous, young man with shark bite piercings materializes at his side. I can’t help but think that the two rings piercing his bottom lip on either side of his mouth remind me more of vampire fangs, and not shark’s teeth. The dude’s chest and shoulders are so broad it’s kinda scary. I find it hard to imagine him being able to fly carrying all that muscle bulk.
“Bring Zabreena. Now.” The man flips and flies off as fast as his wings will carry him.
“Do not tell them,” he commands. “Your parents,” he clarifies.
“But—” Strickland holds out a finger, and I snap my mouth closed. Fudge.
“The less people that know of the Camazotz involvement, the safer it is.”
“My parents do not know about the Camazotz, and I wasn’t going to mention that part.”
“Your parents are now connected to the Camazotz whether they know it or not. You have three lives to worry about. I’m responsible for a hell of a lot more, and until I’m satisfied there is no danger, you will not say one—single—word. Clear?”
“Crystal.” He frowns. “I mean, yes, sir.”
Zabreena flips and knocks me sideways. Rocks grabs my arm to prevent me falling over and steps between us. I’m impressed he noticed my clenched fists so fast. Strickland questions her, and her almost submissive body language reminds me of the night on the lawn after Rocks spoke to the girls.
/>
“His name is Joey,” she replies.
I snort, then wish I hadn’t. Strickland is one step off furious, and I have a feeling my presence has shortened his fuse.
“I can’t believe she fell for that,” I explain. The look in three sets of eyes tells me they have no clue what I’m talking about. “You seriously didn’t believe that was his name, did you? I mean he wouldn’t exactly be the first Camazotz to tell a lie. Right, Rocks’ little cousin?” I glare in her direction.
Anger flares for a brief second across her face. Then I notice Strickland’s face and wish I’d kept my mouth shut.
“From your story, Miss Phillips, it seems you also are more than capable of telling a lie,” Strickland points out.
“Ah, yes, aeronaughts are nasty liars. I was just surprised that Camazotz lower themselves to our level since you’re so superior in every other aspect.” I keep my tone even and hope the sarcasm doesn’t register on his radar. I notice Rocks wince in my peripheral vision, but it’s Strickland that my eyes never leave.
Camazotz understand sarcasm all right.
Tiff once forced me to read this werewolf book, and the young men had trouble keeping their temper under control without shifting. Right now, I imagine Strickland flipping and flapping me to death in a fit of rage.
Crabapples. I shouldn’t be disrespectful, but his lack of respect for his son makes me want to go all Kung Fu Panda on his butt.
Rocks frowns at me but tries to bring us back on topic. “Why wouldn’t that be his name?”
“It’s not like this place is crawling with names like Tom, Dick or Harry now is it?”
Sanguine Moon Page 12
