Chaos (Guards of the Shadowlands Book 3)

by Sarah Fine

  “My bed,” I mumbled.

  He carried me down the hall and into my room, then sank with me onto my single bed, never lifting his mouth from mine. I couldn’t steady my breathing, couldn’t catch up with myself. I could feel the tension in his muscles, the firm lines of him, the urgency as his hand gripped my hip.

  He’s here and he’s real. I said it to myself over and over. You have him now. But how long would it last before we were separated again? My fingers clutched at his back, and I pulled my mouth from his to taste his skin, my teeth scraping against his neck and drawing a broken sigh from him. He’d settled himself next to me, not on top of me, so I turned to him, hooking my ankle over his calf. His hand was just beneath my ribs now, and I kept expecting it to venture up, to maybe try to pull my shirt off like I’d done to him, but it stayed where it was.

  I wasn’t sure if I was glad or upset about that.

  I nipped at the bony hollow at the base of his throat, and he curled his fingers around the back of my neck, holding me there. His pulse was beating furiously, steady and fierce. But when I drew my tongue down the center of his chest, he abruptly rolled onto his back—and nearly off the bed. I grabbed on to him and scooted back toward the wall so he could have room. “Sorry,” I said as he chuckled. “Did I do something wrong?”

  His eyes were closed, and the smile on his face was so sweet that I couldn’t keep myself from kissing him. “No, nothing wrong,” he said breathlessly when I lifted my head. “But you can’t keep doing that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because, Lela, it’s a little . . .” He sighed. “I just want to go slow. I don’t want to relive what happened between us on the training mat that day. You were scared, and I didn’t even notice.”

  “You did.”

  He stroked the hair away from my face. “Not quickly enough.”

  I looked down at my hand, my fingers splayed across his chest. “But you do . . . you want this, right?” I certainly did. I just didn’t know how to get there. It was a little like looking at this beautiful oasis in the distance, but the desert around it was strewn with land mines, all these things that had happened to me, memories that ambushed me at the worst times.

  Malachi captured my mouth with his, nibbling at my bottom lip before releasing it. “You know how much I want you,” he said, kissing my jaw, my neck.

  I knew. Juri had made sure of that. He’d used it as a weapon against me. Malachi must have felt me tense. “Do I want to know what he said to you, when he was pretending to be me?”

  I shook my head.

  Malachi looked me over, his gaze walking itself up my legs, over my stomach and breasts, up to my eyes. “Did he tell you that I can’t get you out of my mind? Did he tell you that I imagine kissing and touching you when I really should be thinking about other things? Did he tell you that sometimes it scares me—how much I desire you, and how deep it goes?”

  I had to work hard to hold his gaze as I nodded, waiting for his anger and frustration. These were all things I should have been hearing for the first time, but Juri had already beaten him to the punch. I would have been pissed if it were me, if a monster went to Malachi, wearing my skin, and told him all my secrets. But Malachi didn’t look upset.

  “All of that is true,” he said. “I won’t lie.” He touched his forehead to mine. “But did he tell you how much I care about you?”

  I blinked up at him. Malachi kissed the tip of my nose. “Did he tell you how absolutely precious you are to me?” When he saw my puzzled look, he smiled. “Did he say any of the things that mattered?”

  “He only said you, um . . .”

  Malachi rolled his eyes. “I’m sure what he said was as crass as possible. You don’t have to repeat it. But maybe you’ll let me translate.” His hand skimmed over my stomach to my side. “What I want is everything. If you gave me your body but not the rest of you, it would be a fairly crushing disappointment. I don’t want to do anything unless all of you is there and wanting it, too.”

  I touched his chest. “I don’t know how to do that. Things sneak up on me. I never know when a touch or some other sensation will trigger a memory.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “I know,” he whispered. “Which is why I want to take things slow. So that when we finally are together, it will be because you’re ready, and I’m ready, and neither of us can wait another minute. I can wait for that. It’s worth waiting for.”

  I gave a sniffly laugh as he pulled me into another kiss, our teeth clacking together before we sank into each other, arms wrapped tight, me halfway on top of him and not nearly close enough. It was everything I ever could have wanted—free of fear, free of expectation and worry, free of the past. It was just me and him, happy and whole and hopeful. Like we had in the Mazikin city, we guided each other’s hands to the places that felt best. But this time, it wasn’t about healing. It was about pleasure. We moved slowly, translating every breath, every tensing muscle, until Malachi had me wound so tight I thought I might catch fire.

  After several ecstatic, frantic minutes, Malachi chuckled as I kissed his chest. His hands closed over my hips. “Forgive me for saying it, but . . .”

  I nipped at his skin. “What?”

  “I think we’re going to be very good at this.” The low timbre of his voice sent delicious shivers across my skin. And as he rolled to his side, his fingers hooking behind my knee and sliding my leg along his hip, as his mouth collided with mine and I welcomed it, I couldn’t have agreed more.

  Of course, that was the moment the front door slammed and Diane yelled, “What the heck? Lela!”

  I jumped off of Malachi, and he went crashing to the floor. He shot to his feet—just in time for Diane to come down the hall and see him standing there, awkwardly adjusting his pants. His shirt was dangling from her fist.

  She arched an eyebrow as she glared at him. “Baby?”

  I cleared my throat. “Yeah?”

  “You invited this boy here?”

  “Er. Yes. Yes, I did.”

  Malachi stepped forward to take his shirt from her, but she held it up and gave him a warning look that froze him where he stood. He cleared his throat. “Ms. Jeffries, I—”

  “Mm-mm-mm,” she said, and his mouth snapped shut. “This is not how we do things in this house.”

  “Well, technically,” I said, scooting off my bed and straightening my shirt, “you never said I couldn’t have a boy here.”

  She fixed me with a stare. “How about I say it now?”

  I held up my hands. “That’s okay. I’m sorry. We weren’t really doing much—”

  She eyed the bite mark on Malachi’s shoulder and waved his shirt like a flag. “I found this in my living room. Any other clothing items lying around here?”

  “I will be happy to put it on again,” Malachi offered, his cheeks flushed. “In fact, I’d be grateful if you would . . .”

  She was fighting a smile as she tossed it at him, and in less than two seconds he was tugging it down over his front. Diane snorted. “I’m going to give you a few minutes to compose yourselves,” she said, “and then you can see Malachi to the door, baby.” She began to walk back down the hall. “After that, I want to know what happened to my coffee table!”

  Malachi and I stared at each other for a moment, and then both of us started to giggle. I’d never heard that kind of sound come from him, and it made me laugh even harder. He covered his face with his hands and sank onto my bed, then seemed to decide it was inappropriate and jumped to his feet again.

  “I should go,” he said, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “That could have been a lot worse, and I don’t want to push my luck.”

  I walked into his arms and hugged him tight. “We have a new Guard house.”

  “I know. It’s where I arrived. Henry seemed glad to see me.”

  “I’ll bet he was. What did he
tell you?”

  Malachi looked down at me. “Only that it’s bad, and he’s been protecting Ian and Tegan. He said I needed to find you as soon as possible.”

  “Juri has gotten to a bunch of our classmates, Malachi. He had a whole crowd on this property he’s taken over, and I couldn’t tell who was Mazikin and who was human.”

  Malachi’s expression darkened. “Then it’s good I returned.”

  “You think you can figure it out?”

  “I have an advantage that neither you nor Henry has.” He smiled, and it was cold as mid-January. “I’m wearing Juri’s skin.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  I WALKED INTO SCHOOL a few hours later with a grim sense of purpose. I’d spent the earliest hours of the morning planning our strategy with Malachi and Henry at the Guard house, and another few stolen minutes kissing Malachi while Henry went off to take advantage of his chance to rest.

  Malachi and Henry had left early to watch the school, to see if Juri showed up, but Evan Crociere had driven into the parking lot alone. When the first bell rang and there was no sign of Juri, we put our plan into action. I’d expected to see Malachi at lunch, but when I walked into pre-calc, he was already there, looking confident and gorgeous with his arm around the girl who’d been with Juri at the meth house last night. She had long, straight brown hair and a beaky nose. Her clothes were clean—she looked better groomed than most Mazikin I’d seen. But then again, so did Juri. Her nails were long but painted blue. Her eyes were full of hunger and hatred as she raised her head and looked at me. “What are you looking at?” she snapped.

  Malachi’s grip on the girl tightened, and she smiled.

  As I sank into my seat, he gave me a cold smirk that sent a chill down my spine. When I heard him murmur something to the girl and her soft, delighted intake of breath behind me, I forced myself not to turn around and stab her with my pencil—and I promised myself I’d make this up to him later. But when I heard her low odd purring—a sound no human would make—my jealousy went away.

  He’d gotten her to reveal what she was.

  I sat through that class, trusting that he wouldn’t allow the Mazikin sitting right behind me to hurt me. He had my back, even if he was masquerading as the enemy. I spent more time listening to his movements and breath than I did to the teacher. When the bell rang, I got up quickly and turned to the two of them. She was already standing next to his desk, her hands in his hair, his resting on her hips. He gave me a sidelong glance and raised an eyebrow. “I’ll see you at lunch,” he said to me, then slid his fingers down the girl’s leg. At the back of the classroom, Laney, who he’d broken up with on prom night, looked like she was about to cry.

  I felt a bit like doing the same, but I channeled that hurt into stalking out of the classroom. Putting on a good show for whoever happened to be interested. Two hours later, I made my way to the packed cafeteria. Ian, Tegan, Laney, Jillian, Levi, and Alexis—her leg in a cast—were sitting at their usual table, which looked a lot bigger since so many of our friends had been killed or injured. Ian stared at me, maybe wondering if I was going to join them, maybe wondering if I’d head out to the parking lot and eat in the spot where we’d shared several impromptu picnics when both of us were trying to escape our grief.

  Tegan was less subtle, waving me over, but I made for a table at the back of the room. Malachi was there, surrounded. Seven kids were sitting either on or around the table. Pre-Calc Girl was sitting on his lap, and Evan Crociere was lounging next to them, running his fingers up and down her back. His long, skinny legs were stretched out in front of him, clad in baggy jeans with plenty of pockets where I’d always assumed he stashed his weed. But even though he looked like the jerk he’d been, his movements were pure animal now, and it reminded me of some of the things I’d witnessed on the streets of the Mazikin city. I recognized four of the guys at the table as having been at the meth house last night, and two looked extremely strung out—bloodshot eyes, greasy hair. Were all of them Mazikin? Did we really have seven of the remaining eleven right here? Hope quickened my steps.

  “Lela,” Tegan called, right as Malachi shoved Pre-Calc Girl off of him and stood up, his eyes focused on me. His lip curled as he beckoned me forward, the gesture so commanding that I swear half the cafeteria was staring at him. Probably most of the girls were wishing he was looking at them instead of me.

  I approached his table, my heart pounding. “What do you want?” I barked, putting my irritation at Pre-Calc Girl and her wandering hands into my voice.

  Malachi gave me a once-over, letting his gaze linger on my chest in a way that made my cheeks burn. He sank back onto his seat. “Join us for lunch.” He flashed a mischievous smile. “I’m quite hungry.”

  Everyone else at the table, including Pre-Calc Girl, snickered. Evan gave me a satisfied smile and made room for me. “Yeah, Lela,” he said, showing his teeth. “Sit right here. I want you close.”

  Evan might be Mazikin now, but the thing inside him had all Evan’s memories, and that included his intense hatred of me.

  “Not sure I want to sit with you,” I said, wrinkling my nose as I made eye contact with each of them. “You guys kind of stink.”

  The guy sitting closest to me growled, deep in his chest. Malachi chuckled. “If you don’t sit with me,” he said, “I might get bored. I wonder if Diane is still sleeping, or if she’s gotten up for the afternoon?”

  Even though we’d agreed he would make this threat, it still sent rage all the way through me. He said it so coldly, with a glint of eagerness in his eye, and horror suddenly struck me. What if this was actually Juri? My eyes darted to his neck, but Pre-Calc Girl had her hand over the spot as she stood behind him, her other arm stroking his chest.

  “Sit down, Lela,” he said firmly.

  A stocky guy with an underbite and bad skin grabbed my wrist and twisted, but before I had a chance to punch him, Malachi nailed him in the forehead with a pen, hitting him hard enough to leave a swollen bump tipped with blue. The guy howled and smacked his hands over his face, while most of the others at the table cringed, their posture wary, all eyes fixed on Malachi. He glared at each of them in turn.

  “She’s mine,” he hissed as a vein pulsed at his temple. He coughed out something in Mazikin that had all but the two strung-out guys crossing their arms protectively over their chests.

  He’d probably threatened to eat their hearts.

  His eyes met mine. “They won’t bother you . . . unless I tell them to.” He held out his arm, inviting me to sit. “I’m getting tired of waiting for you to come to me, Lela,” he said softly.

  I shivered. He sounded exactly like Juri. Again I glanced at his neck, but Pre-Calc Girl’s hand was still there. I walked around the table and sat down next to him, Evan on my right. Evan’s fingernails had grown long, and he’d filed them to points.

  “I can’t wait to watch what he does to you,” Evan whispered, leaning close.

  I can’t wait to watch what he does to you, I thought. “So, shall we go around the table and introduce ourselves?” I suggested. “Because I don’t know all of your names.”

  Malachi stroked his hand down my hair, letting his fingers sink into my curls. “You make me laugh, Lela. It makes me so sad about what happens next.”

  He didn’t sound sad.

  “I think we’ve outgrown our need for school,” he said breezily. “We’re leaving now.”

  “What?” That had not been part of the plan.

  “We’ll have more fun elsewhere.”

  The excitement from the others was palpable. They shifted in their seats, their long fingernails scraping at the surface of the table. “But I . . .” I closed my mouth. My probation officer would love to hear that I’d skipped the last half of the day.

  Malachi—or was it Juri?—stood up and turned his back before I could get a look at his neck to confirm. He peered over his shoulder at the st
ocky guy with the red bump on his forehead. “You drive.”

  “I thought she was driving,” the guy replied, looking at Pre-Calc Girl.

  “I have other uses for her,” Malachi said smoothly, his fingers twisting into her hair and jerking her near. “Help Lela out of her chair, please. Lela, please remember that I won’t hesitate to skin Diane and make you watch if you don’t behave.”

  Two guys, one of them wearing a Quahogs cap to cover his scruffy blond hair, came at me, and I was too stunned to fight. Our plan had been to wait, to go after school, but here we were, marching out of Warwick High at noon, surrounded by seven kids who had been tied to a table and possessed. Seven dead kids. We passed through the double doors that led to the student lot. Malachi was improvising, right? But if that was true, why was I the only one who was surprised? I fought the urge to tear myself away from them and start running.

  But then again, this was the best chance I’d have to take out most of the Mazikin.

  We were heading toward the corner of the lot when someone shouted my name. I craned my neck to see Ian jogging toward us, with Tegan several paces behind. Her face was pale with worry. Malachi peeled himself away from Pre-Calc Girl and strode past Evan, growling something in Mazikin that made Evan wrap his fingers around my upper arm.

  “Lela,” Ian called. “Hey. Wait!”

  I shook my head, my eyes wide as Malachi strode forward to meet him. Dread choked me. I knew that walk. I knew the coiled tension in every muscle.

  Ian didn’t slow down. As Malachi stepped into his path, Ian drew back his fist. But as it rocketed forward, Malachi sidestepped him and rammed his elbow into Ian’s back, sending him to the ground with a crunch. Tegan screamed. I nearly did, too, but Evan chose that moment to yank me toward the car. I struggled as Malachi planted his foot on the side of Ian’s face and leaned over to say something to him. Ian’s fingers were twitching. His eyes were open. He didn’t try to get up.

  Malachi stepped back and walked toward us, unhurried and predatory, Tegan shrieking in the background.