reflection 02 - the reflective cause
Page 15
Slade grinds his teeth. He can't allow Beth within five miles of Dimitri. However, he can get rid of two birds with one stone, as the Threes say.
“Merrick and I will rescue Rachett.”
Beth's face glows with anger. “Do not demoralize my gender by assuming I will bow out of a reconnaissance mission, or that I might be intimidated by inevitable conflict.”
Merrick and Slade exchange a look of understanding.
Merrick doesn't want Beth endangered any more that I. And he doesn't seem surprised that Slade volunteered him.
“Don't look at him like that,” Beth says, punching Slade's arm. Her blow hurts, despite how small she is.
Slade jerks her away from Merrick, and his hand falls on Slade's arm.
“Worry not, hopper.” Slade's eyes flick to Merrick, and his hand reluctantly withdraws. “I would never hurt our Beth.”
A strange expression shadows Merrick's face momentarily, then it’s gone.
“It is unsafe for any female to travel to Dimitri. Especially you. Do you so quickly forget the fun of Dimitri's holdings?”
He can see by the tension in her face that she remembers just fine.
“I'm not afraid, Slade.”
Slade manages a completely genuine smile, his eyes moving over every contour of her face. “I know,” he says softly, his grip becoming weaker, but shy of the caress he would like to give.
“In this, let us protect you.” It kills Slade to make any concession to Merrick, but Slade will do it to see his agenda through.
Merrick gives him a glance full of speculative mistrust.
Slade hates his instincts. They're formidable.
Merrick jerks his head toward Slade. “He's right. Stay here with Maddie and Jacky. We'll return with Rachett.”
No you won't, hopper.
Beth is silent for so long, Slade is sure her stubbornness will be the victor, but she surprises him.
She grips them both, and her voluntary touch causes Slade's emotions to mute his vocal chords.
“Come back to me then. Both of you.” Her small hands are warm on his upper arm.
He fights every instinct he has to take her and crush her to him, protecting her body and soul from all who would hurt her. Instead, he does nothing. Only one of them will return.
Slade hates that Beth’s regard includes Merrick.
But when he looks into her liquid eyes, he is bolstered that it also embraces him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Beth
Something is going on.
Both Slade and Merrick are being cagey, and that deepens Beth’s sensation of the portent of doom she's been living under recently.
She watches the two of them ready themselves to make the trek to Dimitri's fortress.
I wonder what or who he slaves now that he's lost the Reflectives?
Beth vividly remembers Dimitri's hands gripping her while his golden eyes spun slowly, piercing her. Beth's fight to remain calm and stoic in the face of a creature half-man, half-lion had been a fierce one.
Beth wanted to go fight alongside her partner simply because she's afraid to. Fear can't rule her. But Jeb and Slade had nearly begged her to stay. And she has Jacky and Maddie to consider. Yes, Kennet affords some protection, but… Maddie is too fragile for yet another person to abandon her. And ultimately, Beth and Jeb are responsible for the Threes.
Beth scans the landing platforms and houses, held and pierced by thick, ancient branches.
She gives a mournful exhale.
She's half-Bloodling and half-Reflective.
And wholly confused.
The Cause remains the most important thing in her life, but the men press in at all sides, making it hard for Beth to concentrate. She needs to return to Papilio. Word has been sent that Calvin, escorted by two Bloodlings, made the jump back to Ten. Even now, he should be restoring order in Papilio. Beth, Kennet, and Jeb need to find all the Reflective females and help with their healing—both physically and mentally. That should be her top priority—not this crazy game of Slade and Jeb battling for her affections.
If I knew how I felt, it'd be simple.
She forces her mind off the men and back to the important tasks. Whatever Reflectives who were in league with Ryan will be held accountable for their actions—if they have not already been justly murdered. The Reflectives who chased Beth as though they couldn't bear to have their last female out of sight will be reinstated into The Cause and will forget all about Beth upon the return of their females.
That is, unless her timepiece runs out and she find that Jeb is her soul mate—she would be unforgettable then.
Could I be that fortunate? Could it all be as simple as that? And what if I don’t want to be anyone's soul mate? Maybe being a warrior of The Cause is a higher calling. She has at least one term left, and her timepiece is still fresh and ticking.
A horrible idea eats at the edges of her brain. What if her timepiece runs out and she finds she belongs with someone other than Jeb Merrick?
Slade, her mind whispers. Beth stiffens, heat suffusing her skin at just the memory of her orgasm. Beth is helpless to stop herself from imagining sex with the giant Bloodling. Her palms cover her cheeks, feeling the burning heat of her internal fantasy. She's a virgin, but she's not stupid. Beth could have given herself to any man in Papilio, because no Reflective would have her. None except Ryan. But his quest had all been about degrading her, rather than being with her for reasons of truth. And he would never let her forget that she had once declined his advances.
Beth feels guilty for thinking about Slade in a sexual way when she has far greater concerns than giving herself to him—even in her mind.
Slade gave her the most thrilling erotic surprise of her life—and the most embarrassing. But he seems aloof to her as a woman, using her blood to nourish himself then rescuing her out of obligation.
No, Slade doesn't care. Jeb does.
Jeb is also dangerously attractive. The forbidden Reflective mating is enticing.
But the Bloodlings have kindred blood. Is that a type of soul mate among the Bloodlings? Thinking about it all muddles her thoughts.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Beth's head jerks up, her chin leaving her fists.
“That's lame. Go hard.” Jacky rolls his eyes at Maddie and turns to Beth. “We don't even manufacture pennies on earth anymore. They cost more to make than they're worth. How about a buck for your thoughts? Let's up the ante.”
Beth smiles. The Threes lighten her. “Pay up,” she quips.
Jacky gives a mock stumble, staggering backward, hand to chest. “What? Isn't my credit good? My word?”
Beth laughs, shaking her head. “Not on a bet.”
“Well, that's harsh.” Jacky smiles.
Maddie's lips tilt. “Is everything okay? You look kinda flushed.”
Beth's hands rise to her cheeks again. Her traitorous coloring gave her away.
If only she shared the dusky Reflective complexion. Of course, now she understands why her skin is as pale as the moon, just a step away from gray. Bloodling pure gray.
She glances at her hands momentarily then meets the questions she sees in their eyes. “Merrick and Slade have located Rachett.”
“That uptight dude who's in charge of the Reflectives?”
Beth bites her lip and gives a small shake of her head. “Yes, that's him.”
“Okay, cool beans. So what? You're here babysitting, right?” Jacky tilts his chin up and crosses his arms.
“Yes, I guess I am. Kennet is here, too,” Beth adds, trying to take the sting out of the implication that they're too immature to handle themselves.
“Maybe, but he's all wound up in talking with the Bloodlings. He's got a free pass on not getting his ass kicked, so he's ʻmaking a studyʼ of their species,” Jacky says, using with air quotes. “Whatever. Stick a fork in me—”
“I know.” Beth holds up a weary hand. “You're done.”
“That's it,
Jasper—you catch on fast.” He winks, wagging his pointer finger at her.
Beth had a sudden thought that she was pretty sure Jeb, and Slade, would hate, but she could leave a message and finish the job.
“What are you thinking, Beth?” Maddie asks, pushing escaped tendrils of nearly black hair behind her ear.
Beth inhales deeply, taking a leap of trust. “I'm thinking that while the guys are off being heroes, we go to the lake and get you guys back to Three.” Beth gives Maddie a steady look. “Chuck is dead. You could see your mom again.”
My father would not pursue you, is the unspoken end to her words.
Beth could hardly blame Gunnar. Apparently, kindred bloods where as rare as Reflective soul mates, though Beth wasn't clear if their kindred held absolute equivalency to the Reflective's soul mate. Her mother had been gone for a very long time, and Beth would get the full story–he owed her that.
Beth can't see her imposing biological father with the frail young Three. Maddie is so broken.
And Gunnar is so terribly hardened.
Beth won't let Maddie be hurt anymore. She's sure that Jeb would agree with her. Taking the Threes to Papilio was a mistake.
But I can make it right.
“Hell, yes,” Jacky whispers. “I'd give my left nut to get out of shapeshifter and vampire central.”
“I don't think you'll have to hand that over to leave,” Beth remarks dryly.
She'll miss Jacky. Something about him has added another dimension to her life.
Oh, yeah—friendship.
Maddie is conspicuously silent, taking in Beth's words, her expression melancholy. Maddie's emotional signature makes Beth's heart constrict.
“What's with the troll face?” Jacky asks.
Beth stands, dusting off her impossibly wrinkled uniform while she gains control of the mudslide of her emotions. “I was just thinking I'd miss you guys.”
Jacky cocks his head. “I'll miss you to, Jasper. But I'm not gonna get all gooey and stuff.”
Maddie brightens, giving him a hard poke in the ribs. “Yeah, ya are.” He bends over, and a gale of guffawing laughter pierces Beth's eardrums.
Maybe the quiet will be nice, she muses.
“Don't—” Beth begins, but Jeb strides through the door.
“Don't what?” he asks.
Jacky coolly answers, “Don't forget to say bye-bye, Merrick.”
Merrick scowls. “I would never leave my partner without a goodbye.”
Before Beth can react, Jeb pulls her against him so tightly that she can’t tell where he ends and she begins. Flesh, bone, and heat meld, and his lips hover above hers.
I shouldn't kiss him.
His hands move, one to her lower back and one to her nape. She dissolves against him, and his lips crush hers.
Beth's lost.
If he's not her soul mate—who would it be? How can something feel this right and not be the answer?
Her hands grip his neck, and the kiss deepens. He tastes so good that she lets the smallest moan escape. Jeb notices, and his hands tighten around her, just shy of causing pain.
“That's not a goodbye. That's an invitation,” Jacky deadpans.
They break apart and Jeb ignores the boy. “I'll return.”
The for you he left off the end of the sentence hangs between them.
Beth touches her swollen lips, never taking her eyes off Jeb. “I know.”
Guilt seizes her. She doesn't reply with “I'll be here” or “I'll see you soon” because she can't lie—not to Jeb. But she cannot tell him she plans to take off in stealth—to perform part of the mission without him.
Jeb wouldn't condone her plan, but she doesn't need his approval.
Beth was Reflective before she was Jeb's declared soul mate.
The Cause calls to her first.
And Beth will answer—no matter what the price.
*
Jeb stares at Beth and Slade, making her feel awkward.
“Just kiss him already!” Jacky says.
Slade utterly ignores Jacky and everyone around them. He cups her face. “I do not need to kiss you, tiny frog—for you know how I feel.”
Beth looks down, though his hand burns his fingerprints against her flesh.
She doesn't want to know how he feels. Knowing what Jeb feels is enough knowledge for a lifetime.
“Look at me,” his voice rumbles at her—through her.
“No,” Beth whispers.
Slade's hand clasps lightly around her forearm, and Beth’s eyes move to his huge hand, which encircles her entire arm. Her pale skin is milk to the pearl gray of his.
Her pulse beats against the underside of her wrist as though searching for his lips—and his fangs.
Beth closes her eyes. Her breaths come in pants that she tries—and fails—to control.
“Stop touching me.”
“Slade,” Jeb says in a voice of warning, and he sounds closer than Beth likes. She doesn't want the males to fight again right before they're set to depart.
“No, tiny frog, I will not.”
Anger infuses Beth, her face finally rising to meet his. His eyes are black gems, deep like the sea under a new moon. They glitter with raw emotion, and Beth gasps at the visual telepathy.
His hand tightens imperceptibility.
“I will not force your feelings.”
Like Jeb has, she hears, though he doesn't say it.
His thumb leaves trails of fire where he strokes her jaw.
“Slade,” she breathes, and his thumb crosses the threshold of her lips. The sensitive flesh trembles against his touch.
“Yes, tiny frog.”
“Slade—let's go,” Jeb interrupts harshly from a half-meter away.
They turn and part. Slade's fingers reluctantly trail away from her face.
Beth wants to kiss him; the need burns like a dark flame in the deepest part of her being.
She retreats so she won't, clasping her hands behind her back. He studies her expression, no doubt seeing her struggle, because she can't hide it. Not from him. Maybe not from Jeb. Guilt washes over her, making her ill. She sucks in a breath. “Good fortune, Slade.”
His lips turn up at the corners. “And to you, Reflective Jasper.”
He doesn't call her Beth or use the amphibian endearment.
Sadness bites at Beth. Some of what she feels must show on her face.
Slade stares at her silently.
Jacky and Maddie begin talking, and Jeb sighs with impatience.
But Slade ignores the others, gazing at Beth with such longing and depth of want that her lungs ache for a breath without him in it.
Beth's eyes fill with water, and finally, Slade inclines his head and turns partially away from her.
“I will come back for you.” He said what Jeb did not.
And then he is gone.
Beth finds she doesn't breathe any easier in his absence.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Merrick
Jeb is an instinctual Reflective, though that doesn't really distinguish him. Many Reflectives are.
During sparring, Jeb was known for having an almost uncanny ability to anticipate an opponent's moves. To Jeb, they were broadcasting what would come next. He can see a strike, a kick, or anything in motion coming for a kilometer.
But anticipating Beth is another thing. Her next move might as well be a universe away from his comfort zone.
If The Cause wasn't still so firmly entrenched in the very fabric of his psyche, he would never leave her. But it is.
And what world will he take Beth back to? He has declared her as soul mate. However, Papilio is a disaster.
He must make a try for Rachett and restore order. Then he must see Beth safely home and possibly get an unheard-of waiver to accelerate her timepiece.
Of course, if she was aware of his internal deliberations, she would be angry. Beth Jasper is Reflective to the core.
Beth feels none of his angst while his travel comp
anion dreams of killing him.
Jeb doesn't have to be instinctive to any degree to know that. He’s dying inside.
Dying.
When Slade was oozing tenderness all over Beth—and she was too naïve to see through his ploys—Jeb thought he might throw up, preferably on Slade.
Certainly females of both species are in short supply on One, but why Slade would set his sights on a Reflective female who is only half-Bloodling when he can have one of his own females who is a pure blood?
Even though every fiber of his being wants to tear the Bloodling apart with his bare hands, Jeb is too smart to show how much Slade's obvious affection for Beth disturbs him.
Beth is not in soul thrall—where every thought centers first on the declared and all other needs fall after that.
He's ashamed to admit the main purpose of this venture is to stabilize his world for Beth, not for the greater good of The Cause. The greater good has faded in importance, and only Beth's perceived needs loom large.
And Jeb will not fail her.
Kennet has explicit instructions to keep alert in the short time Jeb is gone. Jeb doesn't think Ryan would jump to One. But Jeb doesn't trust One or anyone in it. He will perform this task and jump them the Hades out of here.
Slade leaps to the next platform, where his bare feet hit the solid wood, waking Jeb from his thoughts.
He backs up to the edge of the platform then sprints the three-and-a-half-meter length. He launches off the edge, pumping his legs as though he's running in midair.
He lands harder than the Bloodling did and rises slowly from his crouch.
Slade's mouth twists. “Not bad, Reflective.” Slade turns and leaps to the next platform, incrementally lower than the last.
Twenty platforms later, Jeb feels as though his legs have gelled.
The final platform is six meters above ground.
Slade appears tireless.
Jeb wants to twist his head off.
The Bloodling wraps his large hands around a vine, and hugging it with his muscled body, he effortlessly slides down, arresting the speed of his descent with rhythmic tightening of his hands every half-meter.