“You realize people think we’re sleeping together, don’t you?” she had drawled, staring up at the ceiling on Monday night. Depogare, as he usually was, sat in his chair by Jane’s bed.
He picked his eyes up from the text he was currently reading to fix those black orbs on her. “And you bring this up, why?” he asked in his slow, silky tone.
“I just want you to know that your visits just fan the flames,” she pointed out.
Depogare did not speak for a moment. He was looking at her rather enigmatically and Jane worried for a moment that she probably offended him, that he thought the rumors did more damage to her than the other way around. She opened her mouth prepared to backtrack, to explain why she had brought it up in the first place, but he beat her to the punch.
“Would you like me to go?” he asked after he set the book aside and leaned over the vertical chair so he towered over her.
She faltered, unable to take her eyes off of him. “N-no,” she stammered.
A quirk of his lips; his own version of a smile.
However, on Tuesday, he had yet to come. Jane refused to think about why that was, ignored the ache of disappointment that threatened to turn into a prominent feeling, and instead, began to plan her leave. She would have to tell the doctor about her departure, but besides that, all she would have to do was walk out of the Ack Building, into Ignis Hall, and walk down one hallway. Normally, Jane wouldn’t have batted an eye. Soccer and dancing kept her in shape. Besides the walks Brielle took her on once a day, however, Jane hadn’t gotten much exercise. She was weak. As such, her journey would take a lot longer than normal, especially if she wanted to pretend she wasn’t having any difficulty getting to her dorm room. She’d be damned if some random student offered her any help.
Jane sighed as she slid out from underneath the blankets Depogare had brought for her. They were drenched in his scent so it was common for Jane to smell him on her skin. It was something she relished, a secret only she knew.
Throwing her legs over the bed, Jane prepared herself to stand. She hated to admit it, but normally she needed Brielle to help her balance, though she wanted nothing more than to be able to do it herself. Her toes, covered by a pair of mismatched socks, pressed against the cold tiles, as though she was testing the water before jumping in. Already she could feel her muscles scream their disapproval. It was odd to her that while she had done absolutely nothing for the past four days, she was this sore.
No matter. She still intended to get out.
Once she was certain of her footing, Jane used her hands to push her body off the exam chair and into a standing position. Immediately her grip on the rubber material tightened as her legs nearly gave out from under her. At the last minute she smothered a yelp by pressing her lips firmly together so it came out as a grunt.
Okay, she’d just wait a little longer. She could do this. She could do this.
After another long moment, Jane felt herself relax. Now she was ready. She took a small step forward, throwing her arms out in order to catch her balance.
And then, just like that, she collapsed into a pile on the floor.
And then the tears came.
It was at that moment the door opened and Depogare walked in. He had a plastic bag in his hand which he immediately dropped in order to rush to her side.
“What has happened, dorogaja?” he asked her, his arms wrapping around her. “Did you fall out of bed?”
Jane adamantly shook her head, hating that this was the umpteenth time she was crying in front of Depogare.
“I want to leave,” she whined, cringing out the sound of her voice. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”
He smiled at her childish antics, pushing her hair from her face so he could look into her eyes. “You are too stubborn,” he told her in a gentle voice. “So impatient. Why must you go right at this moment, hmm?”
“I—” she stopped herself, needing to catch her breath. “I feel like I’m not doing anything. I feel like I’m being lazy or something.”
This statement caused Depogare to chuckle. It was a sound Jane had never heard before, and she couldn’t help but stop and stare. It resembled masculine bells ringing in a soft but firm melody. It was like a lullaby that she could fall asleep to, and he looked magnificent doing it, like a still from her dream came to life.
“Sometimes doing nothing is more difficult than doing something, especially for you,” he teased, placing his hand on her neck, coiling his long fingers around her until he was cupping it. “You still need to be here. You must know this, considering you cannot yet walk. May I help you into bed now?”
Jane fixed her eyes on his chin, reached out and placed her finger on the point.
“I thought you weren’t going to come today,” she whispered. She didn’t like to admit that she cared he was here, but she did.
“I’ll always come.” His voice had gotten softer, huskier, and she got chills because of it. “Now, may I assist you back in bed?”
“I can do it myself,” she insisted, but her lips had a gentle curve to them. “But maybe you could stay close to me. Just in case I fall again.”
43
The month of November was predominantly a blur for Jane, except when she was with Depogare. She still had nightmares about The Incident—the event that transpired between herself and Cillian, the event she wanted nothing more than to forget—but she refused to tell anyone or talk to anyone about it; not her friends, not her family, not even Depogare. For whatever reason Jane refused to think about—she didn’t like to question the motives of miracles—time slowed down when she was with him, and any thought she tried to repress vanished from her mind, as though they never existed in the first place. She was getting better at controlling her patience, but there were particular subjects that she was still a bit touchy about.
It was the moments after the private training that she liked best, however. They would drink chamomile tea, read their respective books, or discuss something like Jane’s soccer abilities. It was in those moments where Jane could pretend she wasn’t his student and he wasn’t her professor, that she was his equal and the possibility of something much more between them was actually real.
When Thanksgiving rolled around, Depogare wasn’t happy at hearing that she would be going home for the holiday, especially upon knowing that she’d have her two friends with her. He never said anything about it outright, but Jane got the distinct feeling he wasn’t too happy with them, partly because they were Ignis and it was in his nature to not like them, but also because he believed they were responsible for her being in danger.
He could do nothing to stop her from going home. Ethan said it was only the weekend, she’d be back in three days, and she had her friends with her so they were protected due to the company they were in.
While this did relax Jane to the point where she could look forward to seeing her parents and her Papa, she was also aware that Ethan didn’t mention winter break. Depogare was aware of this as well. He didn’t say anything, but Jane noticed the corner of his lips curl up, instantly putting her on her guard. She was confident enough to say that she knew Depogare well, and knew that by the look on his face—just the small inflection made by his lips, really—he had something up his sleeve. A card he wasn’t going to play just yet.
It was the yet that had Jane worried.
However, Thanksgiving went off without a hitch. The only thing that irked Jane was the heavy tension between her parents. What with guests staying at the house, they knew better than to fight in front of them, but Jane knew something was going on. She saw it in the way her mother pressed her lips together in a thin line whenever her father spoke, and the way her father all but ignored her mother. In a rare moment when she found herself alone with her grandfather, she asked him his opinion. Though he didn’t live with them, he agreed there was definitely tension between the two.
When the girls had to leave, Jane pushed her worries to the back of her mind and decided to focus on
other things. Soccer was in full swing and practice was taking up her free time, which otherwise would have been reserved for studying for the upcoming finals.
On her eighteenth birthday, after the Ducks’ game she watched in the Ignis common room with her friends, Depogare requested her presence in his office. She would be breaking curfew, but she didn’t care. She never got to see him on Thursday, and wondered what it was he wanted to see her about, especially knowing she’d have to break the rules to do so.
By the time she reached his office, she realized she looked like shit. The entire day was spent in her school uniform, but now she had on her usual outside-of-school outfit, skinny jeans and a t-shirt with the Ducks’ logo scrawled across the chest. Her hair was messier than it had been this morning, and she wished she had put some body spray on herself in order to mask any sort of exhaust emanating from her.
If Depogare was bothered by her disheveled appearance, he made no indication of it. She sat down, crossing one leg over the other, and regarded him with an inquisitive stare. He said nothing, just looked at her. It used to bother Jane to the point of needing to ask him just what he was looking at, but she knew better now. It was a test, trying her patience. It still made her uncomfortable, but she learned to keep her mouth shut.
When he finished his appraisal of her, Depogare’s eyes softened to approval. He reached into his desk and pulled out a skinny rectangular box, a plain cream color tied with an emerald bow—the very color of her eyes. Her breathing hitched. He stood and walked around his desk, handing her his gift before leaning against his desk.
Jane looked up at him, her eyes seeming to say, Is this for me? He read them quite clearly and nodded his head once. She grinned as she carefully slid the ribbon off the box, making sure to keep it—the bow Depogare obviously crafted himself—intact. When she opened the box, her mouth dropped open. It was a silver chain with a small trident charm hanging from it. Her eyes immediately shot up, hoping to find his, but they were placed firmly on the necklace.
“It is a trident,” he told her in his smooth Southern tone. “A symbol of protection.”
“Will you help me put it on?” she asked him, breathless.
“You will wear it?” he asked, unable to mask the surprise in his voice.
“Of course.”
Jane stood up and slowly turned so her back was facing him. She had no idea why this moment felt so heavy to her, why she could feel: Every. Beat. Of. Her. Heart. She felt his long fingers move her hair over one shoulder so it was easier for him to dangle the chain so the charm hung just past the middle of her collarbone. His fingertips brushed the side and back of her neck as he clipped the necklace together. He leaned forward so the tip of his chin caressed her shoulder and his cheek caressed her ear. “Happy birthday,” he whispered. When he finished, he turned her around so she was facing him. He was still so close.
“I love it.” Her eyes bore into his, her words taking on a deeper meaning. Would he know? Would he understand what she was really trying to say?
He reached out, tracing the outline of her lips with the pad of his index finger. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She could stay like this for … Oh, there needn’t be a time limit, and forever was used so much it lost its meaning. When his thumb lightly touched her bottom lip, it felt like a ballerina dancing across a stage. His midnight-blue eyes stared at his own ministrations and Jane continued to hold her breath, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss her. That was all she wanted. Just one kiss.
But he dropped his arm and took a step back, and Jane could breathe again but found she didn’t want to. Not if it meant losing his close proximity.
“Now get going,” he commanded in a gentle tone. “You have already broken curfew.”
As she walked away, Jane felt the cool metal of the trident pressed against her skin. It wasn’t his touch, but it would have to do.
44
The experiment Ethan conducted wasn’t even that big of a deal. All he did was ask her questions about the attack: How did she feel? What, exactly, did she do? Did she know if throwing Kat resulted in her death or was she trampled by the crowd as they left the nightclub? How did she feel about Michael? What did Michael do to her? Say to her? What did he do in general? What were his plans? Was it likely he was going to return? Did he say when? Who was working for him? Anyone at AckPec, or was Kat the only one?
By the time Sophie had finished answering the questions, she was exhausted. She hadn’t realized how tired someone could get simply by being seated and talking.
“I don’t understand,” Sophie murmured, standing up, preparing to head back to her dorm. “How did this help when all I did was talk?”
Ethan gave her a warm smile. “You’ve helped more than you know,” he told her. “We know little about physicals in general. We know nothing about what happens when the only two physicals that exist come together in one room. Whatever information you can give us regarding your reaction to Rochester, both mentally and physically, helps us more than you know. Of course, all experiments won’t be this easy, but, as I’ve said before, the information you’ve provided is crucial in order to help us learn more about your kind.”
Sophie still didn’t quite understand, but whatever helped, she was willing to give. It was difficult to be honest with Will in the room because of her indeterminable feelings for Michael. Even now, as she thought about his periwinkle blue eyes, she got goose bumps. As wrong as it was, she was haunted by him. More than that, she was drawn to him. When he was around her, despite knowing him for only a short amount of time, she could feel a tugging inside of her, like this overwhelming feeling that, unless she couldn’t get into his arms as fast as possible, something was missing. That she was incomplete.
And that scared her more than anything, that a man she didn’t know had such power over her.
“But,” Ethan pointed out, “you also have the same power over him.”
“How so?” Will wanted to know.
“I believe whatever Sophie feels around Rochester isn’t anything she can control,” Ethan explained, his eyes shifting from Sophie to Will. “It’s biological. Instinctual. Rochester is the only male of her kind and Sophie is the only female. It is evolution that insists the two find each other and mate and create more physicals.”
“That’s not gonna happen,” Will said as though the topic was not up for discussion.
“Of course not,” Ethan said, his eyes twinkling at Sophie. “She only feels this way in his presence. Should everything go according to plan, she’ll never be in his presence again.”
Another tug on her heart strings, this one painful. Disappointment at the thought of never seeing Michael again. She shoved the feeling aside, knowing it was wrong. She had to ignore it. In order to do that, she threw herself into her schoolwork.
The month of November went by much faster than Sophie could ever anticipate. Ethan had yet to call her for another experiment, but he continued to teach her the fundamentals of peculiars. Jared continued to tutor her and complain about his family that she knew he obviously loved. She went to her first soccer game, watching the male Ignis soccer team beat the male Terrum team. The next weekend, she watched Jane and the female team do the same to the Terrum female team. It amazed Sophie how good Jane was as a sweeper—a position, Sophie learned, was placed behind the fullbacks as the team’s last line of defense besides the goalie. Jane wasn’t the fastest player on the team, but she was aggressive and had a powerful kick.
But Jane was also the nicest person she knew. Jane invited both Elle and Sophie home for Thanksgiving break—Brielle was spending the holiday with her own family or else she would have been there too. It wasn’t the first traditional Thanksgiving Sophie had been a part of, but it was the one she had enjoyed the most, and, more than that, she felt like she truly belonged. Jane, Elle, and even Brielle were her friends. They cared about her, were there for her at the drop of a hat, would do anything for her, and she felt the same way about them.
Sophie continued to train with Will as well. It was less awkward than she thought it would be after their fight and subsequent make-up. She was getting better at controlling her strength, but as Will liked to remind her quite frequently, she had a long way to go. They continued to run before every lesson and the more Sophie got used to it, the more she found she actually liked it. Will never took her to the gym and never mentioned that Dianna had done so. The more time the two spent together, the closer they got to the point where she could call him her best friend without rolling her eyes. Occasionally, he asked her about Jason, but her answer never changed: “We’re together and I’m happy.”
And it was true.
One night, early in December, Sophie found herself lying on her back in the grass, looking up at the stars. It was starting to get cold at night so she was wearing a heavy sweatshirt and closed-toed shoes. Her eyes tried to find the different stars she learned about in astronomy, but she ended up making her own shapes instead.
“Hey.”
She hadn’t noticed Will sitting next to her. She gave him a soft smile. “Hey,” she returned.
“I’m just going to say it,” he said, locking eyes with her. “This may be completely out of line, but do you have plans for winter break? You going anywhere?”
Stranger Series Box Set Page 27
