She wasn’t a stranger.
Wasn’t a faceless name anymore.
Layla, the woman who’d given birth to him, to Abel, was the queen.
Throwing a mental shield up before the thoughts could take him down any lower, he snarled, “I don’t know.”
Just then a set of high beams turned onto the dirt lane, and his heart kicked up a notch. His palms grew moist, and the tissue in his arms began to throb with blood flow.
Taking a deep breath, he stared back up at the stars.
“Even if you don’t trust yourself, you can trust us,” Eli whispered as though reading his thoughts.
Cain nodded as the hunter-green Volvo parked beside his black Corvette and the girls got out, dressed as they’d been earlier in the day. Rhiannon stood in front of Flint with her arms braced wide, blocking her from his view.
“You good?” Rhiannon asked with a slight hint of an accent. Whenever she got anxious about anything if he listened real close, he could always catch a trace of her demonish creeping through.
The night was calm; the breeze that’d been around all afternoon wasn’t anymore. The curl of Flint’s familiar scent mixed with something else entirely made him quiver. Locking his knees in place, he didn’t move from where he stood. The strange scent was growing stronger.
He’d always been able to smell Flint. Where he couldn’t smell hive or many other creatures, her smell of thunderclouds had called to him from the moment he’d first seen her. But now there was something warring with it, something richer, deeper, and far more beguiling. It was like rain-drenched soil mixed with the exotic perfume of waxy flower petals.
He wanted it even as his rager rejected it for not being hers alone.
“I’m fine. But... I’m going to need you guys not to get too close. Just in case.”
“Cain?” Flint’s whisper pricked his ears and made him want to groan with need even as the veins in his forearms pulsed.
Swallowing hard, he reached into his pocket and drew out his cell, along with a burner he’d bought cheap at the store earlier.
“I got you a phone, Flint. Only a few of us have the number.” He handed it to Eli, who took it from him and walked over to her to hand it off.
Her lips twitched as she took it from him.
Eli grinned back, ruffling the hair at the crown of her head.
Cain’s eyes narrowed. If that’d been Seth, the wildness inside him might not have taken too kindly to witnessing such an affectionate gesture. It wasn’t that Cain wanted to control Flint.
He didn’t.
But unless he got his mark on her, she was a free woman, which made his monster insane. Because so far as the berserker in him was concerned, Flint was his. Like a dragon who coveted and cosseted its jewels, that’s how he was with her.
And even as his instinct continued to demand they take that final step, common sense screamed at him that bonding in and of itself was an archaic, antiquated method of shackling down a compass. Maybe back in the dark ages these crazy feelings would have been acceptable, but Flint was a modern woman. She didn’t need a man to survive. Once upon a time, having the protection of a berserker’s fealty would have been enough to get a compass to acquiesce to the demands of the beast, but thanks to the invention of guns, it wasn’t all that difficult to bring even the worst of monsters down.
The last thing Cain wanted was to take away Flint’s right to make up her own mind. Even if the waiting left him agonized.
He blew out a heavy breath—being petty and possessive was the quickest way to lose her. And he wouldn’t do that. Ever.
She stared down at the phone. “I already have a phone, Cain.”
“This is our own private line and untraceable. I’m not taking any chances.”
“Thanks,” she said softly, and his heart clenched.
Cain joggled his own phone at her. “I hate to ask you this, princess, but can you go about a hundred yards off and then call me?”
“I hate this,” she muttered, peeking at him from between Rhiannon’s arms. She still hadn’t budged an inch. Like a good soldier, Rhi would guard Flint with her life. But not just Rhi; Eli had positioned himself close to her as well.
“C’mon. Let’s put a little space between you and Godzilla,” Eli said, tossing a grin back at Cain, knowing he would hear, then gripped her by the elbow and led her back into the wooded area. Rhiannon followed close on their heels.
Flint glanced back at him once with the same kind of intensity that’d first attracted him to her.
“I’ll give you guys some privacy.” Seth started to move off in the opposite direction, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. “But if I see your eyes turning red, I’m taking you down. Got it?”
“Yeah. I got it,” Cain said, having already taken several beatings in the past few days. Turning, he headed back to his car, opened the door, and slid down onto the passenger seat with a bone-weary sigh.
Not that locking himself inside the car could really hold him, but it cut out the smell, and in case anything did happen, it would give Seth a few extra seconds to subdue him.
His phone rang a minute later.
“Hey,” she said when he picked up. “So this is weird, right?”
“You know, my day sucked. But hearing you now,” he admitted softly, “at least it can end on a good note.”
There was a gasp on the other end of the line, and he swore he could almost hear her smile as she said, “How long do you think you’re gonna have to stay away from me?”
Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he stared out the window. “I dunno. At this point, I’m just hoping that maybe once my beast gets used to the new smell it won’t make me so manic.”
“Grace seems to think my final metamorphosis won’t take much longer before it happens.”
“Yeah, about that.” He ran fingers through his thick hair. “Grace is your grandmother. Why didn’t I know this already?”
She sighed. “Probably because I didn’t know it myself.”
“What?” He frowned.
“It’s a long story. And part of the reason why I told you we needed to talk.”
Drumming his fingers on his pant leg, he dipped his head. “It’s too late to break up with me, princess, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
He had meant for it to come out as a joke, but his stomach clenched at her continued silence. Not for a second had he thought that was what she’d meant this morning.
“Flint?” he all but snapped, clenching his molars tight.
“I’m just... Wow, Cain. I mean, not to be weird and all, but you actually sounded like you meant that.”
Releasing the big ball of nerves trapped in his gut with a nervous chuckle, he shifted in his seat.
“You drive me crazy, and I meant every word. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you that night. That I even made you go to the da—”
“You’ve got to stop apologizing about that.” She sighed. “You can’t do that to yourself, make yourself crazy this way. Your mom was going to get to me one way or another.”
“Don’t call her that.”
“What? Your mom?”
Inhaling deeply, he breathed through the building anger festering inside him. “She almost killed you, Flint. She took Abel. I can’t find my brother, no matter how many leads we track. It makes me sick.”
“Babe.” She said it softly, and it was just a dumb, stupid word, but the sound of it directed at him, it quieted his rage.
Made his body tremble.
It was terrifying how much he needed her in his life.
“You can’t blame yourself, no matter what. She wanted to get at me, and I have a feeling I know why.”
“Why?” he snapped. “What did you ever do to deserve that? What did Abel do? I need to know these things, Flint, because it’s making me crazy.”
Rubbing his brow, he closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain building just behind his temples.
He heard her take several breaths as though she
were battling internally whether to speak or not.
“Hey.” He frowned. “You know you can tell me anything.”
She sighed. “I know that. I do. It’s just...”
The longer she prolonged this, the more anxious he became. “Princess?”
“Cain, what do you know about the fae?” She rushed the words out in a hushed tone.
That’d come out of left field. Confused, he blinked, scrubbing a fist over his itchy skin. It’d been two days since his last rage. Which normally wasn’t a an issue, but when a berserker stayed in a constant state of wound-up nerves as he was, then it was a huge problem. It meant that the slightest, stupidest thing could make him snap and lose his cool.
“Not much. More myth than fact really. Because of that, my kind practically looks at them like gods and would probably do a whole lot of foul stuff to get their hands on one. Why?”
“Hm,” was all she said.
No questions. No witty comeback. It was so unlike her that he sat up on the edge of his seat. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Because...” She sighed. “Because I might be one.”
It was like he’d just been sucker punched. The different smell. The reason for Layla’s interest in her. It was all starting to making sense.
“You still there?” she asked carefully.
He grunted. “I’m here. But Flint, how sure are you about this?”
The hive’s interest in her all along. Why she hadn’t died from the bite of the royal guard. Why there’d been so much of her blood on the ground and she’d still survived. The one question that kept hammering at him though was, did Layla really know, or did she only suspect?
“Pretty sure. It’s why Adam and Grace have thrown a revolving door of teachers at me. They’re trying to figure out just what kind I am.”
He closed his eyes, more scared than ever for her. His skin prickled with the rising thrum of his power.
“We’ll keep this between us for as long as possible.”
The implication being that she shouldn’t tell the rest of the gang. Smart as she was, she picked up on the unspoken cue immediately.
“You don’t trust them?” She sounded so unsure and scared, and he hated this space between them.
“I do. Absolutely. But the thing is, the more people who know a secret, the more likely it is of getting out there. Eventually they’re going to figure it out. Maybe not that you’re fae, but I’m sure they can already tell you’re not hive. Just for now, it’s probably best to tell as few people as possible.”
“I shouldn’t have told you.”
“No. God, no.” He shook his head vehemently. “No secrets between us. Ever. Not anymore. You and I are a team, no matter what.”
“I’m scared, Cain. I’m worried. I miss Abel. And I need you. Everything is just so wrong right now. You know my grandmother—God that feels so weird to say now—she told me I have no soul?”
Leaning his head back on the seat, it was all he could do to keep himself in the car. His need to go to her grew with each minute they spent talking.
“You have a soul, Flint.”
“No. Fairies don’t have them, and even a drop of fairy blood means I don’t either. I think my dad thinks I’m going to stop caring about him. That eventually I’m just gonna become this uncaring monster who’s gonna run off and leave him behind. Because apparently that’s what the fae do. Love ’em and leave ’em.”
“Flint, stop.” It was his turn to get tough with her. “You do have a soul. I don’t care what anyone says. I’ve seen your soul, I’ve felt it.” He gripped his chest. “And it’s beautiful. So don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. And as far as becoming unfeeling, that’s pure speculation. No one, not even the Order, knows much of anything when it comes to the fae. They’re a lot like—”
“Sparkly vampires?” she finished for him and he heard the lilt to her words.
He chuckled. “There you are. I was starting to worry.”
“I’m glad I told you. Even if Adam warned me away from you.”
“I should kick him for telling you that.” He shrugged. “But I know he was thinking the same thing I was. Guard your secret, and I’ll do my part. They’re right to train you, you know. The sooner you learn to control who you are, the less likely it is that anyone can do to you what the queen did.”
“I don’t like this. Any of this.” Her voice was soft and sounded sad.
“Me either. But I do want you to know something.”
“Yeah?”
“You can sleep easy tonight. I’ll be watching your trailer myself.”
“Won’t my smell bother you?”
He grinned. In any other context that would sound so wrong. “Not with a metal wall between us. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“You promise?”
“Absolutely.”
Chapter 10
Flint
The trailer they’d taken her to looked like every other one she’d ever walked into. Except Dad or Katy had given them a few of her things to help decorate it. She flicked at the pink princess tassel hanging off the doorknob.
Mom had given her the goofy thing for her thirteenth birthday. She knew how much Flint had hated pink, so she’d probably done it to get at her.
Some days the pain of her mother’s death felt as fresh as it had the moment Flint realized she’d lost her forever.
She peered out the window, watching Cain’s shadowy form. He sat on the bench in front of her door, staring at her trailer with deep, red glowing eyes.
Once those eyes would have terrified her; now they only made her feel safe.
She touched her fingers to the cool pane of glass. He looked up then, and God, it was like the world stopped existing for a moment.
Like they were connected, bonded by something stronger than just her merely liking him and him her. When Cain wasn’t with her, she felt empty. Not like she couldn’t live, but like the colors of the world were muted. Less than.
Flint trembled when he lifted his hand in greeting.
This world she lived in now, it wasn’t safe—it was scary and terrifying and totally outside her comfort zone. Cain was her anchor, and the thought was both terrifying and exhilarating.
After only another second, she forced her feet to walk to the bed. Plopping down on the lumpy mattress, she stared at the drop-tile ceiling, counting the many tiny holes in the one right above her.
In two more weeks it would be her birthday. Eighteen. A legal adult. Somehow that thought didn’t seem nearly as important as it once might have.
Now all she could think about was Abel. Wondering where he was right now. What he was doing. What was being done to him.
After her test this afternoon, she’d walked past Janet’s trailer, hoping to go in there and visit with her for a bit, even if only to watch her sleep. But Flint had heard her screams and the reality of what was happening smacked her in the face all over again.
Nothing was right anymore. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours before she finally drifted off into a lulling, trancelike state.
Images came to her almost from the moment she closed her eyes.
Darkness interspersed with bright pinpricks of light.
There was a conscious awareness in the back of her mind that she wasn’t exactly sleeping, but she also wasn’t awake. She was somewhere in between, like she’d been that night with Layla in the woods.
Flint was again a shade, a spirit, a ghost—whatever you wanted to call it. She glanced down at her fleshy body on the bed, not as scared this time as she’d been before. Maybe this was part of her fae ancestry, or maybe this was something else entirely. All she knew was that rather than panic she would attempt to learn.
Turning, she walked through tunnels of lambent radiance, moving as a phantom through a varied array of landscapes, following the mercurial tug of power that pulsed just ahead of her.
The power source felt familiar and yet... not. It called to her, beckoned her closer.
She might have traveled hundreds of thousands of miles or merely a few yards when she finally stepped out of the shifting kaleidoscope of colors and into the cold, hard reality of a place she’d never seen before in her life.
There were cell bars in front of her and figures dressed in white lab coats shuffling around and even through her as they moved from one room to the next. She clutched at her chest each time it happened, merging for a brief second with the soul of another, even hearing their thoughts for the briefest of moments whenever it happened.
Hunger.
Pain.
Exhaustion.
Fanaticism.
She frowned at the last thought. What in the world was this place?
Turning, she studied the area more closely.
This was definitely a prison. But no sooner had she asked herself why she was here than her heart began to race.
Was Abel here? Had simply thinking of him brought her to where Layla had stashed him away?
Peeking through the cell doors on either side of her, she saw unfamiliar faces, and the moment she tried to walk farther up the hall, she found that she couldn’t. She was trapped by invisible barriers.
Flint pounded with her fists on the unseen wall, even kicking at it with her bare foot a time or two, but it was no use. It wasn’t budging. She couldn’t move from where she’d landed.
“Why the heck am I here then?” she grumped, planting her hands on her hips.
That movement caught her attention, and she gasped when she finally thought to glance down at herself.
Flint stared at her hands and then at her bare feet. She didn’t have any clothes on.
“What the crap!” she squeaked. She knew for a fact she’d put on her favorite ratty nightshirt and shorts. She was totally naked, but yet... she was steeped in radiance. Her body glimmered like cut opal in moonlight. Her red hair curled down around her shoulders like jeweled sparks of ruby flame. She had black claws for nails and felt a dim glow pouring through her eyes.
Lifting her arm, she noticed the tattoo, now fully encapsulating not just her bicep, but curling like a winding snake from her wrist to her collarbone. The vines swayed as though from an invisible wind. And from one blink to the next, she suddenly found in her hand the sword she’d taken to the carnival this morning.
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