by Wendi Wilson
The arm around my waist tightened until there was no space between us. His other hand released mine and wound its way up into my hair, twirling it around his fist so he could use it to angle my head and deepen our kiss. He started walking me backwards, his lips never leaving mine, until I felt the guard rail press into my back.
My world tilted as Jett grabbed my waist and lifted me like I weighed nothing. Before I knew what was happening, I was sitting on the rail and Jett was standing between my spread legs, his mouth leaving a hot trail down my neck as one hand ran up the outside of my thigh and the other kept me from falling backward into the ocean.
It was intense. Passion. Fear of falling. Fear of what Jett would do next. Hunger for whatever that was. It all rolled around into a tight ball inside me, threatening to explode at any moment. My brain told me to end it, to push him away and get us back on safer ground, both literally and figuratively. But my body was enjoying itself too much and refused to listen. It wanted more, and my legs wrapped around Jett’s waist. My knees squeezed him in tight while my ankles locked behind him, all of their own accord. I’d completely lost the control I’d reveled in earlier.
Suddenly, Jett’s lips were back on mine and I was spinning through the air. His palms were under my butt, supporting my weight as he spun us in circles. He slowed to a stop while simultaneously reducing the urgency of his mouth against mine. I unlocked my ankles, letting my feet drop to the deck. He didn’t loosen his grip on me, holding me close while slow dancing me in a circle even though the song had ended and there was no music.
Finally, he pulled away, setting me at an arm’s length. He studied my face without speaking. I bet it was flushed and splotchy, but at that moment, I didn’t really care. He looked serious, but after what had just happened, I couldn’t contain my smile. It must have been the right thing to do because the tension left his body and he grinned back at me.
“I guess I don’t owe you an apology, then?” he asked.
“An apology for what?”
He scuffed his toe along the wooden planks of the pier deck. “I took it too far, too fast. I just…got caught up in the moment. I lost control and I never lose control.”
My smile grew to three times its size with his admission. I did that. I made cool, composed, always in control Jett Patton lose his restraint. It felt like quite a feat.
“Think that’s funny, do you?”
I backed away, nodding. “Oh, yeah,” I said. “That is funny. Who would have ever thought that I, Savanna James, would make the oh, so cool Jett Patton lose control?”
He took a step forward. “Oh, I knew you had it in you the moment we met.” Another step had me backing up again. “So much fire.” One more step. “Such passion.”
His gaze burned a hole through me as his words melted my insides. I wasn’t sure if I could win this game of cat and mouse we were playing. I wasn’t even sure who was the cat and who was the mouse. The only thing I knew for sure was that Jett had wormed his way under my skin and there was no going back.
I laughed, a nervous sound that turned his smile positively predatory. He edged closer, flashing his teeth. A delicious shiver ran down my spine. If he tried to bite me in that moment, I wouldn’t have protested. I would have welcomed the pain along with the pleasure his mouth would bring. The realization washed over me like a bucket of ice water, cooling the raging inferno burning inside me. I was getting in way over my head.
“Jett, stop,” I said, taking another step back. When he took another step forward, I stared into his eyes and yelled, “Stop!” with as much force as I could muster, needing him to get the fact that I wasn’t playing anymore.
He froze, his eyes going wide with shock. I stopped my backward motion, tilting my head to the side. I didn’t think I yelled that loud, to get such an over the top reaction.
“Sorry,” I said, holding up my hands in surrender, “I just need a sec.”
He didn’t smile or nod. He stared at me, his expression incredulous. The muscles in his chest strained beneath his shirt and his face flushed as sweat popped out across his forehead. I moved closer, extending my fingers to touch his arm.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked, bewildered.
“I can’t move,” he said, his voice low.
“What?”
“I can’t move, Savanna,” he repeated, his voice urgent. “Look into my eyes and tell me I can move.”
“What do you mean? I don’t—”
“Say it!” he shouted, before amending it with, “Please.”
I didn’t know what the hell was happening, but I looked into his eyes and told him he could move. Nothing happened. He still stood there, frozen in place, his eyes darting around chaotically and his chest heaving with effort.
“It can’t be,” he mumbled, more to himself than to me. He focused his eyes on mine. “Say it again. Like you mean it this time.”
“Jett, I don’t know what’s happening—”
“Just do it, Savanna.”
His voice was harsh and his words sounded like an order and that pissed me off. Anger flooded through me and I almost left him there to rot. I couldn’t though. I would feel terrible if I did that. Besides, he was my ride. And I wanted him to know just how mad I was.
“Move,” I shouted, pushing against his chest with all my might.
He stumbled backward before catching his balance. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees, breathing hard like he’d just run a mile. He looked up at me, his expression cycling from one emotion to the next. Relief. Disbelief. Contrition.
“I’m sorry, Savanna. I didn’t want to make you mad, but that’s the only thing I could think to do.”
I felt some of the anger seep out of me. “What just happened?”
“You told me to stop and I couldn’t move.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said. “Impossible.” I threw my arms in the air as I paced. I stopped moving and looked back at Jett. “That sounds like…”
My words trailed off and my heart skipped a beat when he finished my sentence.
“You used persuasion on me.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Wait. Tell me everything that happened. Every single detail.”
Jett rolled his eyes at Beckett, and I didn’t blame him. We had already detailed everything that happened on the pier, leaving out our make out session, of course.
We’d driven straight to school from the pier and texted Beckett and Wyatt to meet us out front. Wyatt visited each of our last three classes and persuaded our teachers to mark all four of us present so we wouldn’t get into trouble.
I was starving, so we went to Lucille’s so I could get some food while we explained. I ate a giant cheeseburger and most of my fries, but I still felt a gnawing in my belly. I tried to ignore it as we talked.
“Jett and I were dancing,” I said, “and I teased him about something. He started stalking me and I got nervous and told him to stop.”
“Why’d you get nervous?” Wyatt asked. “If you were teasing him and he was teasing you, there would be no reason to be scared. Right?” He shot Jett a stern look, like maybe he did something we weren’t telling them.
Jett looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Why did you get nervous? We were just playing around and it was like someone flipped a switch and you were yelling at me to stop.”
I could feel a blush burning up my chest and across my face. I looked down and shoved a few fries in my mouth, taking a drink of soda to wash them down past the lump in my throat. I really didn’t want to tell them, but I didn’t want to lie, either.
“Savanna?” Beckett said from beside me, grasping my shoulder and kneading some of the tension out.
“You can tell us anything,” Wyatt added.
I looked at each of them, identical looks of concern on three identical faces. Their worry made the backs of my eyes burn. I felt lucky to have these three in my life and I hoped what I was about to tell them didn’t disgust them or make them wash their hands of me. I
took a stuttering breath and let it out slowly.
“Jett and I were…kissing,” I said, shooting Jett an apologetic look for breaking their don’t-kiss-and-tell rule. I refused to look at the other two to see how they reacted to my words. Beckett’s fingers continued to massage my shoulder, so that was a good sign. “Afterward, I was teasing him about losing his cool—”
“What did you do?” Wyatt demanded, cutting me off.
“He didn’t do anything I didn’t want,” I answered before Jett could respond. “Cut it out or I’m not going to be able to get through this.”
“Sorry,” he mumbled, motioning for me to continue.
“He started stalking me, playfully, like I said. He smiled at me, flashing his teeth and I…”
“Did you think I was going to attack you or something?” Jett asked in a hurt voice when I trailed off.
“No! No, I…uh…God, this is hard.”
“It’s okay, Savanna,” Beckett whispered near my ear. “Nothing you could say will make us think less of you.”
I took another deep breath and blurted it out before I lost my nerve. “I thought about Jett biting me and how I might actually want him to do it.”
“That’s it?” Wyatt asked, sitting back with a huff.
I frowned at him before shifting my gaze to Jett, who was smiling broadly. I picked up a fry and threw it at his head before looking over at Beckett. He gave me a small smile, removing his hand from my shoulder to take mine in his.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Savanna,” he said. “It’s perfectly natural to have, uh, those kinds of thoughts, especially with an Alt. People naturally associate us with vampires and a lot of vampire stories describe the bite as being pleasurable,” he paused to clear his throat, “in a sexual way.”
“Not Twilight,” I said, attempting to joke my way out of this embarrassing conversation.
He winked at me. “Not Twilight.”
“A couple of times, at parties back home, drunk girls asked one or even all of us to bite them, thinking they’d get some kind of endorphin rush from it,” Wyatt added.
I could have lived my whole life without that visual. Jett laughed, and I realized I said that out loud. I blushed. Again.
“Anyway, back to what happened at the pier,” Beckett said, getting back to business. “You freaked yourself out, thinking about things you thought you shouldn’t. Then what happened?”
“I told Jett to stop, but he didn’t think I was serious and he kept coming. I lost it and yelled at him.”
“Heightened emotions,” Wyatt said.
“That’s what I thought,” Jett said. “I asked her tell me I could move, but it didn’t work until I pissed her off enough to throw some emotion into it.”
My face must have shown my confusion. Wyatt explained.
“Young children have no control over their emotional responses. That’s a learned skill that comes with age. When Alts are young, they tend to unintentionally use persuasion, a lot. That’s one of the main reasons people are so scared of us. One too many movies about children of Satan that can control people, ya know?”
“So, if you have the power of persuasion lying dormant inside you, it makes sense that you’d need a strong emotional response to bring it to the forefront,” Beckett added.
My stomach grumbled. I didn’t understand it. I’d eaten all my food, more than I’d usually eat at one sitting, and there was no reason I should have still been hungry. Beckett must have heard it, because he squeezed my hand.
“Are you still hungry?” he asked.
“I’m starving,” I said, looking up just in time to see Jett shoot a strange look at Beckett. “What?” I asked.
“You ate a lot,” Jett said, matter-of-fact.
“I know how much I ate,” I snapped.
Jett raised both palms in a placating manner. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to insult you. I don’t think you’re going to like what I’m about to say.”
“Just say it. It can’t get any worse,” I deadpanned.
“When one of us uses persuasion, especially more than once like you did, we need, ah, replenishment.”
I waved a hand over my empty plate. “I should be plenty replenished.”
“Not that kind of food, Savanna,” Wyatt said, his voice quiet.
Jett pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and wiggled it at me. My head jerked back in shock. I knew what was in that flask. I wrinkled my forehead.
“Are you suggesting that I,” I said, pointing at my chest before pointing at the flask, “drink some of that?”
“I know it sounds crazy,” Wyatt said, “but everything fits. Heightened emotions, persuasion, thirst.”
“I’m not thirsty. I’m hungry,” I said, grasping at straws.
“Same difference,” Wyatt said.
I looked over at Beckett. He nodded at me, unsmiling. Even level-headed Beckett thought I should drink blood? It was all so surreal. I couldn’t even bring myself to consider it. Or could I?
“Just give it to me,” I demanded, holding out a hand to Jett.
He passed me the flask and I twisted off the cap, my stomach churning. I couldn’t believe I was actually going to taste it. But I had to try. The discomfort in my stomach wasn’t going away. I held the opening under my nose and sniffed it. God, it smelled good. My mouth started to water.
What is happening? I thought to myself. This is gross. Disgusting. Wrong.
No matter how many negative words I chanted in my head, I couldn’t dispel the desire to lift that little metal bottle to my lips and take a swig. I looked at each of the triplets. They each gave me an encouraging look or nod. Closing my eyes and holding my breath, I tipped it up and let the blood run into my mouth.
Spicy. Metallic. Warm. How was it even warm? Must have been Jett’s body heat. Delicious. Thoughts zipped through my brain, one after another as a jolt of what felt like pure energy pulsed through my body. As soon as the liquid hit my stomach, the gnawing ache disappeared. I screwed the cap back onto the flask and passed it back to Jett.
“How do you feel?” Beckett asked.
“Amazing,” I said, hearing the disappointment in my own voice.
“You don’t sound amazing,” Wyatt said.
I snapped. “I’m a norm,” I said, stressing their nickname for regular people, “and I just drank blood. And. I. Liked. It.”
“Savanna,” Jett said, looking at his brothers then back at me, “we don’t think you’re a norm.”
“Well, I’m obviously not an Alt,” I said, waving a circle around my face. “Blue eyes, lived my whole life without drinking blood, no supersonic hearing.”
“But you have the power of persuasion,” Wyatt said.
“And you needed blood to replenish yourself afterward,” Beckett added.
“But you said an Alt can’t persuade another Alt. It’s not possible,” I countered.
“Maybe you’re something different. Like a hybrid or something.”
A hybrid? They were talking like we were on some supernatural teen television show with werewolves or something.
“I don’t know guys. This is all just too much,” I said, slouching my shoulders in defeat.
“I think it’s time,” Jett said.
“Time for what?” I asked.
“Time to get some answers. We need to talk to your parents.”
Chapter Fifteen
I paced the living room, unable to sit still. Mom was upstairs changing and my dad was due home any moment. I had no idea how I was going to explain what had happened without revealing that I was dating all three Patton brothers or that I’d skipped school to go to the beach with one of them that day. I planned to just play it by ear.
I’d convinced the boys to let me talk to my parents by myself first. I had a feeling that things would go a lot smoother if they weren’t there. They didn’t go far. They dropped me off and assured me they’d be just down the road in their truck, awaiting a text or call from me that I needed them.
&
nbsp; I heard the front door, the sound freezing me in my tracks. “I’m home,” Dad called out.
My mom wandered in from the back of the house. Spotting me, she said, “Hey, Pumpkin. You hungry?”
“No,” I said, just as my dad joined us in the room. “I need to talk to you guys. Can you come sit down?”
They shared a look and walked to the couch. I began pacing again, trying to get my thoughts in order before speaking.
“What’s this about?” Mom asked. “Are you okay?”
My head shook rapidly. “No. No, I’m not okay.”
“Is this about those boys?” Dad asked, his voice rising in volume with each word. “What did they do?”
I whirled around, planting my hands on my hips. “They didn’t do anything,” I snapped, my temper getting the better of me. “This is about what I did.”
“What do you mean?” Mom asked, shooting a nervous glance at Dad.
“What was that?” I asked.
“What?”
“That look you just gave Dad. You’re hiding something.”
“Just tell us what happened,” Dad said, his voice resigned, like he already knew.
“Okay, I’ll play along,” I said. “I seem to have persuaded Jett. Can you tell me how that’s even possible?”
“Savanna, why don’t you sit down?” Mom said, motioning to the chair.
“I don’t want to sit.”
“Sit down. Now,” she said, her voice firm.
I threw myself into the chair. “Fine. I’m sitting. Can you please tell me what’s going on?”
Mom closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Dad placed his palm on her thigh, squeezing it. She opened her eyes, giving him a sad look before turning her gaze to me.
“We hoped this day wouldn’t come so soon,” she said. “We wanted to shield you from that world. From the truth.”
“What is the truth?’ I asked when she didn’t continue.
“I was a test subject in the XRT-90 trials.”
“What?!” I exclaimed. “How is that possible? How could you not tell me?”
