“Diesel?” I called down the corridors. People turned to look. “Diesel!”
I checked every room, searching for signs of his collapsed body. I ran back to Miranda’s base in full sprint. The heat under my collar tightened like a noose. She can’t know you mean any more to me, okay? I’m trying to protect you. He seemed to mock me with his careful warnings.
“Diesel!” I was particularly screaming. I ran inside and checked my room, but no one was there.
I fell back into the wall, panting hard. A thickness pulled and expanded, squashing my lungs. It was hard to breath, hard to swallow.
Get up, Nadia. My hands clenched. Find him.
I don’t know what drove me forward. I don’t know what filled my head with pebbles and knocked my common sense out. I hated it. I hated feeling this way. Uncontrolled. Anxious. Desperate.
I ventured back down the hallways, unsure where to go, when a glint of red caught my eye. A small fingerprint smudged on the bathroom door handle. My nerves rattled louder than when I turned the knob and let myself in. Blood marked the white basins in wet streaks. Droplets fell from a fresh wound. The trail led into one of the shower cubicles. I walked over and wrenched the curtain back.
Diesel sat there, one arm curled around his midriff, the other held a knife up. He was pale. His eyes were bloodshot and cheeks streaked with sweat. Bloodied lip. Busted nose. Swelling, black eye. He dropped his arm, daring a smirk. I fell to my knees in front of him. He peeled his arm back and lifted his top. Black stitching clamped his swollen pink skin. A needle sat beside him with its string connected to the ball of wire.
He glanced away, unimpressed. “Was that you I heard screaming my name?” My cheeks warmed.
“Are you badly hurt?” I asked instead.
He didn’t say anything for a few moments but the words flickered across his eyes. His expression tightened. “No.”
He refused to look at me, fearful he’d reveal something he didn’t want me to see. Despite his stiffened exterior, Diesel’s body curled with agony.
“Diesel,” I whispered but the words fell short. His eyes flicked up. “Don’t push me away.”
Even though his glare hardened, mortified about what I was going to do, he didn’t lift his hand to hold me back. He allowed me to crawl closer, to lean across his slanted body and press my lips gently to his. I heard his breath catch. His shoulders snapped back, holding himself against the wall.
He turned his head, breaking my kiss. “Please don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s so much harder to kiss you softly.”
Tingles burned my mouth. I reached outward and tucked a loose black strand behind his pointed ear. He was damaged. He was crazy. He was unpredictable and reckless, and in this stupid moment, he was mine. I smiled, capturing the tranquil moment as though it was a tender leaf, brittle from an autumn falling.
Diesel’s black eyes narrowed. He watched my every tilt, tearing down walls I didn’t know were up until I felt them breaking. He studied me, a thought pinching his brows. It felt sickening, like I was being stripped naked. Worse, that he looked beyond skin and muscle and into my private thoughts. He untangled them, and he laughed.
“Fuck, Nadia.” His voice chilled against my ears. “Are you in love with me?” The idea twisted him, warping his mouth into a cruel scowl. The word love felt poisoned, only spoken to hurt each other.
“No.”
He turned away. My heart twanged. Despite how much I wished it, I couldn’t stop these feelings from wrenching me open. But he doesn’t get to say it for me. He doesn’t get to taint the word like it was an annoyance. I sat back.
“Who could love a madman like you?”
“You wouldn’t even know what love is.” His voice turned cold.
“And you would?”
“I do.” He rocked his head back and sighed deeply, closing his eyes. “It’s nothing like this. You have no idea.”
“Don’t belittle me.”
“What do you know of me? Of what I have done? Huh?” He snapped, “This feeling you think you have, it’s nothing.”
“I know enough to make judgments for myself. You don’t get to decide what I feel.”
“This…us…it will break you.”
“It could make us stronger—”
“Stronger?” He laughed. “It weakens. I used to be strong. I used to be untouchable. My name would only ever be whispered in the halls and now… the reason why I’m huddled here isn’t because I’m hurt but because I’m weak. Because I’m…” He ground his teeth, annoyed at himself, “I’m scared to want you. I’m scared as hell to want any of this. I can’t allow myself—tst!”
He groaned and shifted onto his other side. I settled in closer with my hand against his cheek. “Even if it hurts, I won’t give up on you.”
He stared at me through a slitted eye. “Only someone who has not felt love’s pain would eagerly welcome it.” The words were clear, firm and unforgiving. And then, in the gentlest of movements, he smiled.
It only lifted one corner of his mouth, seemingly incomplete, but his eyes changed. They softened. He looked down, then back up, slipping his dark eyes into place against mine. It was the best he could do, the most genuine smile he could master. No teeth. No words. Just a tilted mouth.
“Nothing can break me.” I smiled back. He nudged his cheek into my palm, taking the sight of me in. My eyes trailed down. Dried blood lined the cut like rouge lipstick. The tease of his longing gaze was almost enough to pull me closer. Maybe I am mad in my own right. Who could love such a man?
Diesel must have sensed my lingering thoughts as he tilted my chin up. My eyes snapped up to his. He looked into me. The muscles around his eyes tensed, troubled thoughts narrowing them. His stare said more than any words could fathom. It went beyond our minds and drilled into our bodies, lifting our bones.
I leaned forward and kissed him. Before he could break away, I cupped his cheeks and pulled him closer into me. He winced beneath my mouth.
“Oops! I’m sorry—” I pulled back.
Large hands tugged me forward. “No!” His voice ripped with agony, greed and desire. He sucked my lower lip into his mouth, pulling me over onto his lap. His willpower shattered beneath me. He welcomed it with a sharp breath. I straddled my legs on either side of his crotch, always aware of his injuries. He gripped my hips, easing me lower onto him. Immediately, I felt the tight bulge of his hardening member pressed against my thighs. I licked my lips without thinking. His breath came out low and jagged.
He shuffled backward so his back aligned with the tile wall. I tipped forward with his movement and he grabbed me around my head, his shaking hands knotted in my hair. I could feel he wanted more, needed more and that what he tasted and touched didn’t satisfy whatever passion had ripped him open.
He lifted my shirt over my head and tossed it. I ripped his off of him too, throwing it back over my shoulder. I ran my hand down the ripple of his chest and instantly forgot all the moments I was mad at him. I forgot why the world was a hateful place, why I would always distance myself from others, knowing that deep down, they are just as coldhearted as my parents.
But now, here, all I felt was heat. I felt connected. Strong. Alive. Our pulses synchronized. My breath fought against his until they intertwined in harmony. His fingers pulled on the hem of my pants. I lifted myself up and kicked out of my jeans. Diesel’s hands fumbled as he wiggled out of his clothes. I positioned myself back on top of him, feeling the full length of his erection pressed against the thin line of my underwear.
Intensity set our bodies on fire, shivering against a cold draft that wasn’t there.
“Oh, God, Nadia,” he murmured against my ear, the vibrations of his voice tickling my skin. “Tell me to stop!”
My back arched at the purr of his voice. I bit my lip, unable to control myself. I slid my hand between his legs and gently stroked his member. Diesel slid his boxers down until they ringed around his ankles. With gentle
hands he slid my underwear off, never once breaking eye contact.
I looked away out of shyness and flicked my ankle to kick them off. My hands felt him, fingers curled against the throbbing pulse of his yearning.
He craned his neck back at my touch. His fingers found me but didn’t touch beyond the softness between my legs. He was teasing me, his touch light, flittering over me until I couldn’t take it anymore.
I positioned myself over him, watching his expression. He didn’t look away as I lowered myself onto him. I gasped, my toes curling, my breath caught in my throat. His body stiffened, biting back the shuddering moan that tried to squeeze through his lips.
Warm pleasure ran up my insides, tickling a moan out of me. I started to move. Slowly, like waves, taking his full length until his tip forced a shudder and his shaft rubbed shivers throughout my entire body.
His fingers cut into my hips with frustration. I could tell he was in agony, that he wanted to control how fast or how deep we went but his injuries weakened him.
I moved at my own pace. Feeling everything, enjoying every tremble and shiver moving across his body. I could see how much he hated not having control. It made me smile. His wild cravings cut me with his fingernails, forcing him to clamp his jaw shut as he silently begged me to go faster.
Whatever control he had was lost. His breathing became hard, fast. His eyes deep, enraged with yearning. Passion pinked his cheeks and wet his lips. I moved faster, speechless aside from the string of moans.
I reached my hand up and accidentally hit the shower knob above our heads. The downpour of water shocked me, but Diesel didn’t allow me an inch to wiggle away. Water hissed, the cold striking my skin. He sat up higher, pulling me into his body, biting my mouth, drawing my breath from my lungs and I felt myself sink into his dark possession.
I couldn’t match the heat that was his momentum. I was lost to him. Water ran over us, saturating our hair and skin. As he forced my mouth open water followed his tongue. The cold taste of the stream mixed with his ferocious kiss was exciting. The hot and cold elements clashed. His hands never let me go. His mouth never stopped tasting. I choked and immediately he reached back for the knob, slamming downward to switch it off.
He brushed the wet strings of dark hair away from my face. He was smiling, mouth twisted from the building ecstasy. My hands trembled, suddenly nervous. I wanted this, I really did, but this craving carried heavy consequences. I suddenly saw into the future, into a possibility where Diesel would be different after this.
I couldn’t help but remember my first sexual encounter. The boy was from my class. He was nice enough to me at school. I had initiated the act, at the backfields over by the ovals. I had thought this is what I wanted. I had thought this would bring him closer, open him up. But he didn’t kiss me. He didn’t look at me. And once he was done, he didn’t speak to me anymore. I wasn’t sure what I expected from him, but my heavy disappointment drove me to set his things on fire. I was expelled from school but I didn’t care.
I cared now though. I didn’t want that distance from Diesel, that cruel detachment. Suddenly, Diesel’s eyes fluttered into focus, feeling my body slow. I looked down at him, tracing the wet beads curved along his cheek. He looked so strong and so sure of himself when I was falling into doubt.
“What is it?”
I could barely speak. “Do you love me?”
I expected the question to anger him. I expected him to laugh. To scrunch his face up and say, you don’t know what love is. Part of me expected him just to say yes, to give me the answer I wanted so I would continue. Suddenly, yes or no, there was no answer good enough to convince me of his earnestly. I regretted asking such a stupid thing.
But Diesel’s grip tightened. “To the point it has broken me.”
He kissed me gently this time and I knew what he said was honest. My mind opened to him. My body opened. My soul. Every touch felt right. Every thrust arched my body. We made love completely and utterly obsessed with each other. I felt his body shudder as he released into me. His pulse was fast in between my legs. I smiled. He playfully hit the tap on, dousing us in water. I didn’t want to leave, but I knew I had to. He didn’t show it, but his wound would be intensely painful. I suddenly felt selfish.
“Stay here. I’ll get you some first aid.”
I got dressed and left quickly, feeling the tingles shift over my chest into my arms and fingers. I was jittery. I felt light and heavy, dizzy and firm. My head spun but my feet felt grounded. My body was still hot in between my legs. I don’t know if it was love as I had never felt it before. The word love felt heavy, but this feeling felt heavier. I didn’t want love, but I did want Diesel. I want him to live. To be happy. To stay by me.
I raced back to the bathroom, bandages in hand, but he was gone.
Chapter Eight:
I stopped looking for Diesel after the first hour, but I couldn’t stop thinking of him. My hair dried in awkward kinks, and I touched the wet ends to replay the memory again. By the time I reached Miranda’s, Riki was there.
He didn’t say anything when I walked in. Hound rested his head on Riki’s lap and his ears perked up as I closed the door.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” He greeted me without any malice in his voice. I relaxed, having prepared myself for a scolding. “Did you find him?”
I hesitated to respond, but I knew my body must smell of sex. My trust in Riki was minimal. He worked for Miranda, and Diesel was very clear about her not finding out about the two of us. Or, whatever the hell us was.
“I don’t—”
“Krane really is impressive. Most men would be dead after such a beating,” he said, already knowing my answer. Riki followed me into the kitchen where I splashed my face with water. “You seem unwell.”
“It’s been a long day,” I replied, but my voice waivered in its betrayal. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”
“No, that’s not it.” I looked up at him. He twirled a knife in his hand, reflecting the yellow light overhead. “You’re nervous.”
“No, I’m not—”
“You’re nervous because you’re lying.” Riki’s voice was low, unthreatening. Hound’s head perked up from the couch. “It’s obvious.”
I tensed. “When have I lied?”
“Then you must have superpowers.”
My heart dropped into my stomach. He couldn’t possible know about the Soulless thing. He couldn’t know about my weird, floating blood. “What the hell are you talking about?” I tried to laugh. My voice hardened.
“How else are you in two places at once?” His fingers tightened around the handle. He noticed my eyes snap to the knife. Tension stiffened between us. He would expect me to lunge for it.
I took a step back.
He smiled, watching my mind race, hearing my breath quicken. I was near the door. I could run, but even if I was faster than Riki, I couldn’t outrun the dog. But what else could I do?
“How long have you known?”
“Since the start. E5F1886 is reportedly alive and logged in over in Australia.”
I swallowed hard. “I have a good reason.”
“I’m sure. I know Krane would never bring in a spy, but why lie about your code?”
Would he believe me about the Soulless thing? Even if he did, he would tell Miranda and I would be strapped to another surgical table. They’ll torture me like Fitzgerald did. I’d be murdered. My fingers twitched. I have no choice. I have to go for the knife. I’ll hit him, hit him hard. Kill the dog if I must. Run. Run fast. Just run. The static crunch of an incoming call broke the silence between us. Riki took a small ear piece from his pocket and tucked it into his ear.
“Miranda? Yes? Okay, yes, right away.” He pulled it out. “It’s your lucky day.” The knife cluttered as he dropped it. He turned toward his room and I quickly grabbed the knife and tucked it away into the hem of my pants.
“Are you going to tell anyone?”
“No. I’m not interested in
seeing you turned into shredded meat.”
“Then what do you want?”
He turned and tossed a backpack at me. “Honestly, it doesn’t matter what your real code is or how your eyes are blank. Are you here to cleanse the world?”
I nodded hesitantly. My heart still pounded in my ears. “I promise I’m an ally, Riki.”
“Yeah? Time to prove it.”
I got dressed into thick pants, large boots and a heavy jacket stuffed with so many layers it fattened out my figure. A gasmask hung from my neck and the backpack pulled on my shoulders, tipping me backward. Riki took two guns from a locked cabinet, but didn’t hand the second one to me. The touch of the kitchen knife tapped my side with every step.
“Where are we going?”
“Outside.”
“What’s happening outside?”
I followed Riki as he rounded the corridors. I kept two steps back, feeling the thin veil of our friendship shifting. He had unravelled my secret and in doing so backed me into a corner. I remained vigilantly aware of where his hands were at all times.
“I’m not entirely sure. All I know is we have to take one of these.” Riki rounded the corner and opened the door into the drifter rooms. He pulled a slim, young Green from his cage and leashed him. “Here, you take him.”
He forced the leash into my hand. The drifter was perhaps sixteen years old. The sight of him turned my stomach.
“Why?”
“Enough questions. Just do it.” Riki led us out of the base and onto the platform where I had arrived. My heart ached at the reminder of the yellow-tagged girl.
“Step exactly where I step,” Riki ordered as we stepped down onto the tracks.
The drifter pulled against me. I shortened the rope so I held the boy by his bound wrists and directed him from behind.
Soul Finder (The Immortal Gene Book 2) Page 6
