Traveller

by Abigail Drake

  I stared at the keys. “I could have used my keys. Why didn’t I use the keys? I could have stuck one in his eye. I know that. I know that.”

  Michael stroked my hair and whispered in my ear, trying to calm me. As soon as I’d settled down, he pulled back to look at my face. His expression grew hostile when he saw my neck.

  “What happened?”

  I touched my neck gingerly and winced as I swallowed. “He tried to kill me. He really wanted to kill me.”

  I’d practiced martial arts for many years. I’d beaten up people, and been beaten up, on almost a weekly basis. This was something very different.

  “Who?”

  “Leo. He’s a guy. I know him. He likes Brooke.” My eyes flew open wide. “I need to call Brooke. She can’t go out with him. He is crazy. He’s on drugs or something.”

  Michael shushed me. “How do you know him?”

  I told him about Leo, but didn’t add the part about flirting with him on occasion. The fact I’d even talked to him was enough to put a flash of jealousy in Michael’s eyes.

  “Are there any other men I should know about?”

  I didn’t know if he was serious or not. I shook my head and opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, my body began to shake so hard my teeth chattered. I was wet and cold and scared.

  Michael pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against my hair. “It’s not your fault. I was being a prize idiot.”

  “You’re good at that.” I barely managed to get the words out, but Michael laughed.

  “I want to find Leo and kill him with my bare hands.”

  He was serious. “Can we go home now, Michael? I want to go home.”

  I picked up my backpack, and then realized the zipper was open. I sank to the floor, frantically searching through it.

  “It’s gone.” My heart began to race, and I couldn’t disguise the note of panic in my voice.

  “What’s gone?” Michael stood very still, the way he got when he was worried, but he had no idea how bad this situation had actually become.

  I covered my face with my hands. “My journal. It must have fallen out when I hit him with my backpack.”

  Michael looked visibly relieved. “I’ll get you another journal.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t understand. I wrote down everything in my journal. I wrote about you, the Moktar, and even about the Travellers.”

  Michael’s face paled. “You put our secrets in a book?”

  My stomach clenched. “I didn’t realize it could be dangerous. I’ve always kept a journal, but nothing interesting has ever happened to me before.”

  I saw a war being waged on Michael’s face. He was furious, but as soon as his eyes went to the marks on my neck, they softened.

  “I doubt Leo is a danger to us, but we need to retrace your steps and make sure it isn’t lying on the street somewhere. If someone finds it, they’ll probably think it’s a made up story.”

  I nodded, even though I had a very bad feeling about this. It sickened me to think Leo probably had it in his hands right now. Maybe my fears were unfounded, but one thing seemed very obvious to me; Michael was wrong about Leo. He was dangerous.

  Chapter Twenty

  You can’t get this wad of toothpaste back in the tube.

  ~Grandma Sugar

  We left as soon as I changed into dry clothing. My stockings were torn, so I tossed them into the trash. I pulled on heavy tights, a black skirt, and a warm sweater. My coat still felt damp, so I wore a jacket instead.

  The storm had already passed, but the sky remained cloudy and gray. After checking the alley and retracing my steps, we gave up. Leo had the journal. Michael harbored some doubts, but I was sure of it. We just needed to deal with it.

  “What should we tell the council?”

  We walked toward the compound, hand in hand. His eyes scanned the street, making sure it was safe.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  “Are you sure?”

  His face was hard when he looked at me. “No, but I don’t want to make things worse. We’re already in enough trouble. It seems to follow you around everywhere you go. The little stunt you pulled today, running off by yourself, just made things worse.”

  I winced. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know,” he said, his face softening. “You have so much to learn. It’s not your fault.”

  The rain had stopped, and the sun bravely tried to peek out through the clouds, so the street was more crowded, but people parted and made way whenever Michael approached. A man walked out of a shop and stepped right in front of us. All Michael had to do was narrow his eyes and the man scurried away. It wasn’t a gypsy trick, and it wasn’t just his size and obvious strength. Michael had an aura about him that made normal humans a bit nervous. He walked like a predator, head forward, graceful and silent. King of the jungle. He looked dangerous because he was dangerous, and that made me very happy. I needed dangerous right now.

  When we reached the secret door, he noticed my gaze on him. He raised one dark eyebrow at me, and my cheeks burned.

  “What are you thinking, Emerson Jane?”

  “That you’re a beautiful man, Michael Nightingale.”

  He frowned, so obviously confused it almost made me laugh. “You did notice the tattoos and the scars and everything else about me that screams ‘get away,’ didn’t you?” he asked.

  I reached up and touched his face. “I don’t see any of it. Not anymore, at least. I just see you.”

  Truly flustered, he cleared his throat. “Ah. Well. Do you want to learn how to open the door?”

  I squealed. It meant so much that he trusted me even after I’d been an idiot about the journal.

  “Really? You aren’t going to blindfold me?”

  “You’re a Traveller now. It’ll open for you.”

  “I was always a Traveller. We just didn’t know it.”

  He grinned, and when Michael grinned it did something to my body that started in my chest and went straight to my lady parts. I almost drooled, but he seemed completely unaware of the effect he had on me.

  “Come. I’ll teach you.” He brought me close to the wall and showed me a hole in one brick, slightly larger than the width of my thumb. “Stick your finger in there.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Is this a joke? Is something going to bite my finger?”

  Michael growled. “Don’t be silly. Do you want me to do it first?”

  I shook my head, giving him a dirty look. “I’ll do it.” I lifted my pointer finger, and then glared at him. “But if something bites me, I’ll bite you. Just so you know.”

  “Promise?” Michael’s voice was low and husky. He stood right behind me, hands on my hips. His breath tickled my neck.

  “Stop distracting me with your manly charms. I need to concentrate.”

  He blew out an exasperated sigh. “You need to stick your finger in the hole. It isn’t complicated.”

  “That’s what she said,” I muttered, but I got up the courage and put my finger in. The doorway slid open, and I stood there pointing my finger into thin air.

  I laughed. “Can we do that again?”

  Michael rolled his eyes. “Certainly. Every single time we come back to the compound.”

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. Immediately, the door reappeared, and we were in the dark hallway. Michael stood very close, his hands on my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned into him, my face in his chest. His voice rumbled against my cheek.

  “I failed you, Emerson. I thought you were only in danger at night. I didn’t take Dwellers like Leo into consideration. They weren’t part of the equation.”

  “It isn’t math. You couldn’t have known, Michael.”

  I stretched up on my toes to kiss him softly on the lips. The added bonus was my breasts brushed his chest on the way up. A delightful sensation that almost made me purr.

  Michael gave me gentle little kisses, and in bet
ween them he spoke. “It’s my duty to protect you, and all Travellers. I’m the Ceannfort.”

  Scowling, I bit his lip. Not hard enough to hurt him, but enough to make my point. He gave me a crooked smile. “Fine. That isn’t the only reason I want to protect you.”

  “I fought him off, Michael.”

  Michael touched his forehead against mine and gently caressed the bruises on my neck. “I should have been there. I guard what is mine.”

  Mine. I sort of liked that word, even though it was rather chauvinistic and normally would have annoyed the living heck out of me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his head down in order to kiss him thoroughly. I was glad to have something to hold onto when his tongue slid into my mouth like warm velvet, making me so hot and hungry for more that my knees began to buckle. Michael reached down and cupped my bottom, pulling me closer against him. I felt his erection, long and hard, through our clothing, and found it a little hard to breathe.

  Michael pulled away, jumping back like I was a live wire and he’d been shocked. He ran a hand over his head, trying to catch his breath, but I didn’t want him to stop. I moved closer, reaching for him, but he shook his head.

  “Not here, Emerson.”

  I understood his concern when the door to the street opened suddenly, and Anthony and Quinn waltzed in. We were in a public area, and I’d almost forgotten.

  “Did you just get back?” asked Quinn. He slapped Michael on the back, and then seemed to read something on Michael’s face. “What is it?”

  “Emerson was attacked.” His voice was clipped. “Meet me at my caravan in an hour.”

  They nodded, and looked at me with concern. “I’m fine, boys.”

  It touched me that they cared. They’d been kind to me when they thought I was a Dweller, but things were different now. I’d become one of them. Word had spread quickly through the compound, and made me wonder if this acceptance would be shared by the women, too. It would probably make things with Nella a lot worse. She’d see me as an even bigger threat in her quest to have Michael.

  We went to my grandparents’ caravan. Matthew and Anselina sat outside, drinking tea and looking like the quintessential English couple. Anselina wore a floral skirt, and Matthew had on a wool sweater. If I’d seen them in another setting, I would have had no idea they were gypsies. They smiled at me in greeting, and when Anselina’s eyes went to my neck she stood up slowly, her face grim.

  “What happened?”

  I reached to cover the marks with my hand. They had been faint red spots when I’d checked them in the mirror at my apartment, but I bruised easily. They must have looked like humdingers now.

  Matthew gave Michael a nasty look and started toward him. I stepped between them, holding out my hands. “It wasn’t Michael. Oh, my gracious. Someone else did this.”

  I explained what had happened, but couldn’t make sense of Leo’s behavior. “He was never like that before. I have to call Brooke and warn her.”

  Brooke’s phone went immediately to voice mail, and then came a message that her mailbox was full. I groaned in frustration and texted her instead. I was brief, telling her Leo was dangerous and it would be wise to stay away from him. I also begged her to call me.

  Matthew, Anselina, and Michael were having a very serious discussion. They stopped as soon as I approached. Michael’s cheeks turned pink, a new look for him. He pulled me aside.

  “Stay here with your grandparents. I have to talk to my men.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you going after Leo?”

  “No.” His response, a little too quick, told me he lied. I folded my arms and tapped my toe. He knew I wasn’t going anywhere until he gave me an honest answer. A muscle worked in his jaw, and then he let out a frustrated growl. “I won’t do any permanent damage. I just have to make sure the bastard doesn’t try anything like that again.”

  “Define permanent damage.”

  Michael glared at me. “I won’t kill him, so he’s getting off lucky.” Then his voice got very quiet. “I need to get the journal from him, too.”

  I grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket and pulled him close. “Don’t you dare put yourself in any danger, do you hear me?”

  Michael raised one very arrogant brow. “He’s a Dweller, Emerson.”

  I pursed my lips. “That doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous. There was something different about him today.”

  “Drugs can make people aggressive and unpredictable.”

  I shivered. “It wasn’t that. He was…strange.”

  I wondered if somehow I’d caused this by flirting with him and sending him mixed signals, then chastised myself mentally. Nothing I’d done warranted that kind of attack.

  Michael slid his palm up my cheek, strong, and yet so gentle as his fingers twined in my hair. Leo had been completely different. I still felt the way his fingers had clenched my throat, cutting off my air supply.

  Michael kissed my forehead. “I’m just going to scare him. I’ll be back soon.”

  Anselina put her arm across my shoulders as I watched him walk away. “It’s always hard to see them go.”

  “He shouldn’t have to fight my battles.”

  “But he’s the Ceannfort. It’s his job.”

  I scowled. A lot of responsibility rested on Michael’s broad shoulders. It wasn’t fair. “What were the two of you talking about with him earlier? He looked fit to be tied.”

  Matthew coughed. “I think I have to go and…uh…well. Goodbye.” He toddled off, and Anselina looked after him, shaking her head.

  “Men.”

  “So you’re stuck answering my question.”

  She sighed. “This will require a strong cup of tea and some biscuits.”

  “Uh, oh. That’s never good. Grandma Sugar used to prepare me for bad news with sweet tea and cookies.”

  “I’m going to like Grandma Sugar.”

  Anselina poured the tea and handed me a plate of shortbread cookies. We sat in front of her caravan. The skies had cleared up significantly, and the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. A faint breeze fluttered through the compound, making tendrils of my hair tickle my face. I looked up at the dome Michael had constructed.

  “Where does the wind come from?”

  Anselina’s eyes followed mine. “Ah. You’ve heard about our dome, Michael’s design. The wind is part of a rather complex air circulation system. He designed an irrigation system, too. He really is a brilliant boy.”

  I sighed. “And yet he has to kill monsters instead of going to school.”

  “Has he quit school then?” Anselina didn’t seem surprised.

  “No, but he’s on the verge.”

  “He’s been under quite a bit of pressure, poor lad. Mavin especially has been insisting he quit. Matthew and I have always supported him, but we live in Guisborough. We’re only here for meetings and such.”

  “Aren’t you from Whitby? I went there a few times, trying to find…you.” My mother had said they were both dead, and I’d actually just hoped to find cousins, but it seemed cruel to mention it.

  “Guisborough is close to Whitby, just a bit inland.”

  I’d fallen in love with Whitby, and not just because I’d thought of it as my mother’s hometown. A gorgeous little fishing village, nestled on the North Sea coast, with winding streets and buildings perched precariously on steep hillsides. I’d climbed hundreds of steps to reach the ruins of Whitby Abbey high on a cliff, and then watched the boats come in. It had been an amazing day.

  “I liked Whitby. Bram Stoker wrote Dracula there. Isn’t that amazing?”

  Anselina shrugged. “I suppose, but we have real monsters to deal with. I don’t pay attention to pretend ones.”

  “That makes sense.” I sat back and sipped my tea.

  Anselina cleared her throat and smoothed her skirt. Her discomfort piqued my curiosity. I had no idea what she wanted to talk with me about and waited patiently for her to get to it.

  “Are you a virgin,
Emerson?”

  I nearly choked on my tea. She wanted to talk about sex. Oh good gravy.

  “Ma’am?”

  She pursed her lips. “You heard my question. It was difficult enough to ask it once. Don’t make me do it again.”

  “I’m just a little flummoxed. Why are you asking?”

  “We’ve already asked Michael. We need confirmation.”

  My jaw dropped. “You asked Michael about me? No wonder he looked so embarrassed. It is really none of your business.”

  “I must disagree.” I opened my mouth again to protest, but Anselina held up a hand to stop me. “This is an important issue in our community, part of the reason our girls marry so young.”

  “It’s personal.” My cheeks got so hot they felt like they might be on fire.

  “Not to a Traveller. Michael is the Ceannfort. You are the granddaughter of a council member, and he is the son of one. Your actions and behavior will be noticed. It would be better for you in the long run if you knew the rules and followed them. If you aren’t a virgin, we’ll deal with it. If you are, that makes things much easier for everyone.”

  I blew out a breath. This had to be one of the most uncomfortable discussions I had ever had with an older lady, and Grandma Sugar was the queen of uncomfortable conversations.

  “I didn’t. I mean, I haven’t. Not yet,” I said and Anselina visibly relaxed. “But it’s no one’s business, but my own, you hear?”

  “You are one of us now, Emerson. These sorts of things are not treated lightly. Years from now, when you and Michael are married and have children of your own, you’ll thank me.”

  I almost fell off my chair. “Excuse me?”

  She patted my leg. “I saw the way you two looked at each other, dearie. It’s written all over your faces.”

  “Anselina. Grandmother. I really like Michael, but we met a week ago, and I’m going home in December.”

  Anselina went back to playing with her skirt, refusing to make eye contact. A little knot of worry formed in my chest. I didn’t want to make things harder, but leaving her with false hope was unkind.

  “You understand I’m leaving, right?”

  She gave a little shrug, still refusing to look at me. I groaned inwardly. This was going to be tough.