Silver

by Talia Vance

  I shake my head. “You and Jonah?”

  Christy shakes her head. “False start. All our guys were there. I know it.”

  Haley’s cheeks redden. “You really think so?”

  Christy and I both stare at her. I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Haley’s self-imposed celibacy is going to be short-lived.

  “Who?” Christy looks thoughtful as she mentally goes through the list of potential candidates. Austin. Jonah. Matt. Blake. Please not Blake.

  Haley’s smile holds a secret that would make the Mona Lisa proud. She looks at me. “So, what can you tell me about Joe?”

  FORTY-six

  Dinner with my parents is nice. We talk about schools I might apply for in the fall and whether I might be able to put some money toward another rescue horse now that Dart is sold. It feels so normal.

  Back home, we sit on the couch watching a DVD of the Lion King. Dad orders a pizza even though we just ate. When the doorbell rings, he goes to the door, cash in hand. When he walks back into the family room, there’s no pizza on him.

  “Brie, it’s for you.”

  “Me?” I get up, wondering why Haley or Christy wouldn’t just come in.

  When I walk past my dad, he whispers, “It’s a boy.”

  My hands go to my hair, smoothing the curls with my fingers. My heart is already beating out the equivalent of a glam-rock drum solo.

  Blake stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He’s holding a small box in his hands, flipping it around and around and around. His smile when he sees me is tentative, unsure.

  I can’t resist smiling back. “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey.” He stops flipping the box and stands perfectly still. We both just stand there. Waiting.

  “Are you busy?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  He looks back down. “I didn’t expect this to be so hard.”

  Uh-oh. Warning sirens blare in my head. I think he’s given me this speech before.

  “Okay, here goes.” He looks back up at me. “Do you want to go for a drive?”

  Yes. No. Who am I kidding? “Yes,” I say. I run back into the house to tell my parents I’m going out for bit.

  “Hot date?” Dad says.

  “Maybe.” I grab a hoodie from the hall closet and practically run back to the front door. He’s still there. I haven’t hallucinated him.

  I follow him out to his SUV. He stops by the passenger door. “I have something for you. I hope that’s okay?” He still fingers the small box, turning it over.

  I hold out my hand. “I’m not an expert or anything, but I think you’re supposed to actually give me the gift.”

  He laughs and hands me the small white box. There’s a tiny shock of electricity when his fingers brush mine. “Happy birthday.”

  My hand shakes as I untie the tiny green ribbon. I lift the lid and pull out a delicate silver necklace. At the end of the chain is a round pendant, not much larger than a quarter. The carving is crude, and gorgeous—a flower carved by hand. Wolfsbane.

  “Where’d you get this?”

  “Joe’s been holding on to it for a while. It belonged to a bandia he knew a long time ago. I thought you should have it.”

  “Thank you. And Joe, too. It’s beautiful.”

  I hold the necklace up, watching it sparkle under the streetlight. Blake takes it from my fingers and places it around my neck. The pendant sits at the base of my throat, the cold metal warming quickly against my skin.

  “So beautiful,” Blake says, his hands dropping from my neck. He doesn’t back away. He’s so close, close enough to feel the warmth coming off his skin. Close enough to kiss. He raises his hand, and for a second I think he might touch me again, but he lowers it just as quickly, then turns and walks around to the other side of the car.

  We drive to the vacant lot in the Heights, the barren site of his former home. I follow him to the wall at the back.

  He sits down and motions for me to sit down next to him. My thigh touches his as I settle in. An ember ignites where our legs meet. I don’t pull away, and neither does he.

  “What now?” I finally ask.

  He laughs. “I have no idea. I wasn’t even sure you’d come out with me.”

  His hand finds mine and our fingers lace together. We sit like this for a while, watching the world go by from our perch on the wall.

  And then I have to spoil it. “Did you mean what you said to Rush today? Are you using me to find the others?”

  “You heard that?”

  Not a no. Why do I have to ask questions I don’t want to know the answer to?

  “They wanted to kill you,” Blake says into the silence. “I had to come up with a reason for them to keep you alive.”

  It’s what my heart wants to hear. And it’s so easy to believe. I wish I could feel him now. To know.

  “Do you miss it?” I ask. “The bond?”

  “Sometimes.” His thumb runs across my palm. “Today, when I couldn’t feel you. I kept reaching for you, and there was nothing.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s like a piece of myself is gone.”

  “Not gone.” He holds my hand to his heart. “Right here.” My breath catches as he lifts my hand to his lips. “Brianna, you may not have a piece of my soul anymore, but make no mistake about it—you still carry around a part of me.” His lips brush my fingertips, feather-light.

  His eyes find mine, asking.

  I know the danger that lies in wanting. All I’ve ever wanted was for Blake to see me, as if his wanting me would be enough.

  But it’s not nearly enough. I can’t simply accept the fact that he has chosen me. As much as I’m tempted to revel in being wanted, it will never be enough. I have to want him too, enough to take a risk with my own heart. Enough to trust him with my secrets.

  When I don’t say anything, he smiles, the arrogant smile that’s meant to charm me and every other girl on the planet. “You’re scared.”

  I’m terrified. “I thought you couldn’t feel me anymore.”

  “I’m pretty good at reading body language.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  “It’s okay.” His eyes lose their signature sparkle, and I realize that he might give up on me, that he probably should have a long time ago.

  “Can we start this conversation over?”

  He looks confused. “What?”

  “Not just the conversation. Everything. Can we start from the beginning?”

  “You want a do-over?”

  That’s exactly what I want, but hearing it put that way makes me realize how foolish it is to think it can be that simple. It’s not like we can go back to that first time Blake walked into Magic Beans and have him notice me. It’s not like we can pretend he didn’t claim the right to kill me. That I didn’t kill him.

  “Forget it,” I say. “It was stupid.”

  “I doubt anyone has ever called you stupid. Brianna, I know what you are. Who you are. And you know me. More than anyone. I’m not saying it will be easy. I’m pretty sure it won’t be. All I know is that now that you’re here, I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

  “Here’s the thing.” I say it before I can stop myself. “I can.”

  He doesn’t hide the disappointment in his eyes. For a second, I think I even feel it, but then I realize it’s my own disappointment.

  “Brianna.”

  “Let me finish.” I let go of his hand. “I can imagine a life without you. I’ve been there, Blake. I thought I’d lost you.”

  His drops his chin and looks back out over the view, blinking.

  I bring my hand up to his jaw, pulling him back toward me. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

  His eyes are war
y.

  I swallow, choking on my fear. I have to fight to push away every self-protective instinct. This must be what a sky diver feels just before making the jump. I close my eyes and let myself fall. “The thing is, I love you. I think I always have.”

  His smile is back, dimples and all. “Always?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head. The last thing I need is you thinking you’re some kind of god.” It feels good to admit how I feel, how I’ve always felt. I lean forward, stretching up until my lips meet his, our smiles converging.

  There’s a flash of silver light behind us.

  I pull away with a start. “What was that?”

  We scan the yard, seeing nothing. There’s a clap of thunder off in the distance.

  “Lightning,” Blake says. “The discharge of electricity during a thunderstorm.” There’s laughter in his voice. “For someone who claims to know a lot about science, you don’t know much about weather.”

  “I’m a little superstitious these days.”

  He leans in to kiss me again. When our lips meet there’s no charge of electricity, no flash of light; just the warmth of two people finding each other on a hillside.

  It’s not a claiming kiss—it’s a gift, a promise. I bring my hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His lips travel along the line of my jaw to my throat.

  There’s another flash of light. This time when I open my eyes, I see it, the silver thread whipping around us.

  “Blake.” I pull his head from my neck. “Look.”

  The silver light is dancing, weaving around us in a perfect spiral.

  “Is it happening again?” Blake asks.

  “Maybe.”

  His face turns serious. “We should stop.”

  “We should stop,” I repeat, hoping that if I say it out loud I can find the strength to follow through. We both know what could happen if we don’t.

  Blake leans back, putting distance between us. He’s still breathing hard. We watch as the thread of silver light fades into the darkness.

  I turn to face him. “You know, it wasn’t so bad.”

  “What?”

  “Carrying your soul around.”

  “Better you than me.” He smiles at me and takes my hand.

  “I might not mind … ” I let my voice trail off.

  Blake pulls me into his lap in one smooth motion, laughing. “Yeah, well, you’re not the one who has to take on the black soul of a killer, are you?” His smile is the only thing that keeps him from getting blown right off this wall. “I know, I know. I need to work on my moves.”

  I laugh with him. I’m still laughing when his mouth covers mine; then I’m lost in the scent of vanilla mint and the feel of his tongue as it twists with mine. And for once, I’m okay with the fact that I don’t know the answers, that my choices might all lead to the same inescapable place. I still have choices.

  And I choose Blake.

  Watch for Gold,

  the next chapter in Brianna’s story.

  About the Author

  Talia Vance has worked as a horse trainer, a freelance writer, and an attorney. She is analytical, practical, and a hopeless romantic. She lives in Northern California with her husband, children, and a needy Saint Bernard named Huckle-berry. Talia always thought she’d grow up to write “the Great American Novel,” but her tastes ran more along the lines of torrid romances and fast-paced thrillers. So did her life. But that’s another story.

  Visit Talia online at www.TaliaVance.com.