I nod and smile past my trembling lips. The weight pressing on my heart is lighter, but Danielle still hangs between us like a dark cloud ready to let loose her violent storm. “I believe you, but I need you to believe me about Danielle, Ethan. She really—”
“I do,” he says, sliding his fingers into my hair.
“You do?”
He nods, his fingers moving to my neck. “I confronted her and she admitted she tried to get you to break it off with me because she was trying to protect me.” His fingers tighten slightly on the back of my neck and his expression hardens. “I’m sorry she did that, Nara. Apparently Corvus can get hyper-focused on fulfilling their duties to the point they don’t understand the purpose of anything else.”
Mr. Wicklow’s comment on the need for Corvus to have Paladins pings around in my head. I start to tell Ethan, but he continues, his expression serious, “I told Danielle my personal life is none of her business and that you’re off limits.” His expression softens as he massages my neck. “She was supposed to find you and apologize this morning. Did she?”
I shrug. “I guess you can call what she said an apology, but she didn’t just talk to me last night. She used her sword to scare the crap out of me.”
His mouth slants in a grim line and he shakes his head. “Danielle says she didn’t pull her sword. She was very frustrated that you appeared half-asleep and groggy when she tried to talk to you. She seemed surprised that you even remembered the conversation.”
“I saw silver, Ethan.”
His eyes darken, then light up with understanding. “She wears a thick silver bracelet on her wrist. That’s probably what you saw.”
Now that he mentions it, I do remember seeing the bracelet on her before, but I still press my lips together.
His body tenses. “Did you actually see a sword? I need to know.”
I open my mouth, but quickly close it. “Not exactly.”
Ethan’s tense face relaxes. “Don’t worry. Now that I’ve talked to her, she won’t ever bother you like that again.”
There’s so much I want to tell him. “I’d like to talk to you some more, but I have to get to the office for Mr. Hallstead—hey, why aren’t you in class?”
Ethan pulls me close and presses his lips to mine, murmuring, “I was waiting for the perfect time to get you alone.”
Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kiss him back, then smile. “Closets seem to be a thing with us.”
“Are you sure you have to go back to class?” His grip on my waist tightens and a slow, devil-may-care smile tilts his lips as he sets me back against the reams of paper behind us.
The fluttering in my stomach stirs to a crazed frenzy. I’m thankful I’m holding on to him when he plants a hot kiss on my throat, but just as his fingers slide up the back of my shirt, I gather the strength to push on his chest. “I really do have to go. Can you come to my house after school?”
Ethan flashes his rare brilliant smile and all I can do is stare. He’s so devastatingly handsome, so incredibly sexy, I’m stripped bare, as if every bone in my body has just taken a vacation. If he ever decides to use his good looks to his advantage, he’d be beyond dangerous for any female with a pulse. I have to force myself to step out of his hold. “I take it that means I’ll see you this afternoon?”
His sexy smile turns tender as he brushes his fingers down my cheek. “Just try to keep me away.”
Chapter Twenty
Nara
I offer Ethan an apologetic smile as I open my front door and say in a low tone, “Mom’s home early. Try to pretend like you don’t notice the explosion in the kitchen.”
His dark eyebrows shoot up, but he grins and steps inside as I close the door behind him.
“Hi, Ethan.” Mom glances up from rolling out her very first crepe. Jingle Bells is playing softly in the background, and the island is littered with baking items: a bag of flour, sifter, bowls and spoons, rolling pen, rolling mat.
“Hey, Mrs. Collins,” he says, laying his jacket on the stool.
“I’m making crepes for dinner. Will you be joining us? I want to make sure we have enough.” Pushing a strand of hair away from her face, she smiles. “Oh, Mr. Dixon will also be here.”
Ethan acts like he doesn’t notice the streak of flour she just rubbed on her forehead as he clasps my hand and pulls me to his side. “I’d love to stay for dinner if it’s not too much trouble.”
His deep voice must’ve finally overridden the lure of food scraps, because Houdini pokes his head around the corner of the island, then bolts toward us, his nose and paws sprinkled with flour.
“Whoa, sit, boy,” Ethan says, holding his hand out to keep Houdini from throwing his hundred pound weight against him.
I laugh when my dog drops his butt to the floor, his tongue flopping out of his mouth as he waits for Ethan’s next command. Though, he’s only so obedient. His tail wags at a rapid thump, thump in his excitement.
While Ethan rewards him with a head pat and an ear scrub, I say to Mom, “We’re going upstairs for a little bit unless you need my help with anything?”
She glances up, her furrowed brow smoothing briefly. “I’m just trying to make sure I do this right.” Waving us on, she returns her gaze to the counter. “I’ll call you if I need you.”
“Okay, Mom.” I smile at Ethan and tug him toward the stairs.
Of course, Houdini is right on our heels, but Ethan turns to him and says in a commanding voice, “Stay here. We’ll be back.”
Houdini lifts his big brown eyes to me and I nod, glancing back toward the kitchen. “Stay and keep Mom company, boy.”
As we walk up the stairs, Ethan glances down at the garland and asks, “Why haven’t you put up a tree yet?”
I laugh. “We usually buy a live one, but Mom’s worried Houdini will think it’s his own personal pee post.” Shrugging, I pull to the landing. “Plus, she likes to drag out the holiday, since half the time she ends up working late right up through the end of the year to close out her company’s books. For us, Christmas just lasts longer; we usually celebrate and do gift exchanges on the first of January so Mom can relax and enjoy it.”
His eyebrows shoot up as he steps close and rests our clasps hands on the small of my back. “So you want me to wait ’til then to give you your gift?”
“If you don’t mind. Then you can celebrate with Mom and me. And maybe this year Aunt Sage will come and Gran too. My Gran’s a…unique character. I think you’ll love her.” Smiling, I turn and lead him down the hall.
The second we cross the threshold into my room, Ethan tugs me into his arms and presses his mouth to mine. I laugh and thread my fingers in his hair, kissing him back.
“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmurs against my mouth, his hand sliding along the small of my back to pull me closer. “We have lots of lost time to make up for.”
I curl my fingers in his hair and lose myself in Ethan’s lips moving against mine, their persuasive warmth drawing me in. I’ve missed him so much. When our breathing starts to elevate, he lifts his mouth long enough to groan his frustration. “I wish we were alone.”
I start to nod my agreement, but he kisses me again with a fierceness that slams straight to my belly. “I’ll stop in a minute, I promise,” he rasps against my mouth.
“I know,” I start to say, but he cuts me off, his tongue sliding hungrily against mine while his hands glide down my back, curving along my hips as if he’s trying to memorize every part of me. The thought seduces me even more, and I match his passionate kiss, clasping him against me.
“I’ve spent so many sleepless nights thinking about us, missing touching your face, your hair, the feel of your body locked close,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I hated the distance that kept growing between us. I know it’s my fault. I never meant to hurt you.” A low rumble vibrates in his chest as he kisses me again, tangling his tongue with mine. Lifting his head, his deep blue eyes turn even darker as he cups my rear, his hold tight, pos
sessive. “Being apart nearly killed me.”
This is the Ethan who ignited a fierce burning need inside me that night—the Ethan who’d started to accept who he was and went after what he wanted, never backing down. I burn everywhere at once; his even stronger intensity leaves me unable to form a coherent sentence.
Ethan’s fingers flex on my rear. “Do you forgive me, Sunshine?” he says in a low, tortured voice right before he pulls me fully against him.
The sincerity in his eyes melts my heart, while the feel of his hardness molding to me draws a gasp from my lips. Heat unfurls in my belly, spreading to my chest and thighs. “How’s this for an answer?” I say, and I lift up onto my toes to get as close as I can.
Ethan’s arms come around my back and our mouths mash together, hunger and need fueling our kiss. As we drown in each other, everything around us ceases to exist. I vaguely notice stumbling over a pile of clothes, bumping into my desk and nearly knocking over my trashcan, but I don’t care.
Somewhere in the distance, someone’s calling my name. I jump away from Ethan as my mom’s voice finally bleeds through. We stare at each other, quietly panting as I turn and shout, “Did you call me, Mom?”
“Houdini’s asking to go out.”
“Okay, I’m coming.”
When I turn back to Ethan, his sexy mouth is curved in a pleased, dark smile. “What?” I ask, my heart still thumping hard.
His grin widens. “It’s just good to know I’m not the only one who has a hard time keeping my hands to myself.”
I start to shake my head in denial, but Ethan raises an eyebrow as he slowly re-tucks his button down shirt back into his jeans.
Vague recollection floods my mind…my hands gripping his cotton shirt, the bottom button popping off as I yank it from his pants. Embarrassed heat shoots up my neck, but before I make it out of the room, Ethan’s by my side, clasping my hand. Leaning close, his deep voice fills my ear, spreading through my insides like warm honey. “You didn’t hold back. That’s the Nara I want.”
By the time I get back from taking Houdini out—and finally convincing Lainey that I really was okay by texting her a picture of Ethan’s jacket on our kitchen stool with Mom in her flour-coated apron in the background, captioned: He’s putting his life in Mom’s culinary-challenged hands. If that’s not proof I’m good, I don’t know what is—my hormones have settled.
Ethan’s sitting on my bed, holding the picture he’d drawn of me that day by the pond. He’d propped the picture against my birthday present as a surprise the morning he left to go collect his things from Michigan—well, D.C. He looks up as I step through the doorway, his expression subdued, contemplative. “I never did ask…does your camera take good pictures?”
I nod and try not to look at the box he’d taken the picture from under my bed. It’s the same box that holds the silver ring and other memories I want to keep. Apparently I’d forgotten to put the lid back on and tuck it fully back under the last time I pulled it out.
“Yes, it takes great pics. I’ve used it to take snapshots of the animals at the shelter. Did I tell you the adoption rate has doubled?” I ask as I sit down beside him and use my foot to slide the box farther under my bed. Too many unfiltered, raw thoughts reside in its cardboard walls, jotted down on scraps of paper. Ethan doesn’t need to see them.
He smiles and holds the picture beside my face. “It’s not as good as the real thing. It’s missing all the spark that makes you so unique.”
His sweet compliment warms me as I take the picture and lean it against my lamp on my nightstand. “Thank you for remembering my birthday.”
Turning back to him, I ask, “How did your memory come back to you? Did you just wake up and it was all there?”
“It was after you left yesterday. I was wrecked and reacted. After, I uh…had some cleaning to do. Once I started vacuuming, that’s when it all came flooding back.” Snorting, he shakes his head. “All that time I spent training, I thought for sure that would trigger my memories. Who knew all it would take was doing a simple, mundane task to unlock it. And when they started coming back, the memories gushed through in one big flood of images and emotions. Yeah, I had a hell of a headache the rest of the day.”
I brush aside a lock of his hair. “I’m just glad they came back. You seem more…settled.” Ethan clasps my hand and lightly touches his lips to my wrist. When his mouth moves higher, getting closer to the scar on my palm, I fold my fingers closed. “My mom’s going to call us down in a little bit. Before she does, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”
Lowering our hands to his thigh, he threads his fingers with mine. “Fire away.”
“How is Danielle so sure you’re not creating Furiae?”
Hesitation reflects in Ethan’s gaze, and my chest starts to ache, but this time I tap into that determined, passionate girl who demanded answers from Mr. Wicklow, and who just now got so lost in Ethan’s arms she didn’t hear her mom calling. I squeeze his hand. “No more holding back.”
He nods, running his thumb over mine. “The reason I know we’re not creating Furiae is because of Danielle. She’d told me she was special in the past and asked me not to tell anyone what she was, but when I told her what you said about the Furiae, she revealed something she hadn’t before. She’s the Master Corvus.”
That’s the last thing I expected Ethan to tell me. I’m so shocked I just stare at him. I’d planned to tell him everything Mr. Wicklow told me, but if Danielle really is the Master Corvus, now I know why she reacted the way she did when Ethan first mentioned the Order.
Ethan lowers his face to my level. “I can tell you want to say something.”
What I want is to tell him to run away from Danielle and never look back. Instead, I swallow my fear and ask as calmly as I can, “Why is she here?”
Ethan shakes his head. “What do you mean?”
I stand and try not to show how much this news worries me. Why would the Master Corvus want Ethan to embrace his darkness, encourage it even? “What big event is getting ready to happen?”
“I’m not following you, Nara.”
“The Master Corvus only takes over a person on our plane when our world is threatened.”
His eyebrows pull down and creases form around his mouth. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“Why didn’t Danielle already tell you this?” I counter his question while sending a silent prayer of thanks that he didn’t ask where I got my information. I meant what I said about “no more holding back.” If he had asked, I would have told him. “It seems only fair that the Master Corvus should tell you what’s coming since she’s training you.”
When Ethan doesn’t have an immediate response, I sit beside him once more. “I didn’t say anything before now because we’ve never discussed the Master Corvus. She knows the history, because she is the history. I can’t understand why she’s only told you surface stuff. Why have I learned more from others when you’ve been training with the source? Ask her why she’s here. If you’re expected to help, you have a right to know.”
Ethan looks away, deep in thought.
Just as Houdini saunters into my room, Mom calls, “Nara, Ethan! Dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you come on down? David will be here soon.”
Ethan starts to follow me out of my room when he pauses and lifts my dad’s fedora from the corner of my mirror. “This is new.” Dropping it on my head, he nods. “Not many girls look hot in hats, but you rock it.”
My smile trembles as I take the hat off and slide the brim through my fingers. “Thanks. It’s my dad’s.”
Ethan’s eyes light up. “Your dad’s? Did you finally see him while I was gone?”
I shake my head and sigh as I hook my dad’s hat back on my mirror. “My dad wasn’t on an extended business trip like we thought. He’s gone missing.”
“He’s missing? How did you get his hat then?”
Turning to face him, I quickly tell him about the video my dad left behind,
why he left Mom and me, and that Fate said my dad is still alive. “At this point, there aren’t any leads from the people he works with. He’s just…gone.”
“Why haven’t you told me about your dad?”
I shrug. “You had so much going on, the last thing I wanted to do was dump my issues on you.”
Ethan spreads his hands, then lets them fall by his side. “So it’s okay for you to expect me to share, but you get to keep everything to yourself? That’s a bit of a double standard, don’t you think?”
He’s upset about my dad? That’s the last thing I expected. Right now I’m emotional after reliving stuff about my dad all over again; I don’t want to fight about this. “We should go downstairs.”
I start to walk past him, but Ethan stretches his arm out, blocking my exit. When I try to push his arm out of the way, he curls it around my chest, pulling me back against him. “Your worries are mine, Nara,” he says into my hair. “How can you expect me to think we’re a team and that we work better together, when you don’t?”
I hold back the sob that’s trapped in my chest and rest my chin on his arm. “You’re right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Ethan wraps his arms around my waist, hugging me against his hard frame, his voice softer. “I’m sorry about your dad. Hopefully—”
The doorbell rings, sending Houdini down the stairs barking in full defense mode. As Mom fusses at Houdini to settle so she can open the door, I sigh and glance up at Ethan, waiting. The second Mr. Dixon’s voice floats upstairs, understanding dawns in his eyes.
“That sucks.”
Destiny, YA Paranormal Romance (Brightest Kind of Darkness Series, Book #3) Page 23
