“Do you think that’s your power then?” Rhi asked the question Cain had just considered as a real possibility.
“Yeah. Probably. Maybe.” She nodded. “Grandma told me that my grandfather is a hunter. So it probably is connected.”
“So you’ve got superstrength and an enchanted sword. Wicked.” Rhiannon grinned, the first real smile she’d had all night.
Flint’s own grin was crooked. “I’m thinking the two must be connected, and if that’s the case, then maybe I can try to train with a sword tomorrow.”
“Grace gave me a book the other day; it doesn’t have much in there.” Cain spoke up, realizing he’d been less than honest with her lately too. “It’s enchanted.”
Flint frowned. “And by enchanted that means?”
“That pages only show up at random. Mostly what’s being revealed is a history of the Great War that almost eradicated your kind. But I could take another peek in there and see if there’s any mention of a sword.”
“I wanna see that book, Cain,” she said.
He’d bring it to her in the morning.
Rhiannon snapped her fingers. “Oh, if this thing is a fairy blade, then I’d stake my life on the fact that your sword is like super ’roided or something.”
They laughed, and something tight and hard in Cain’s chest loosened just a little.
“Whatever.” Flint rolled her eyes. “’Roided or not, I’m pretty sure my skill set involves a sword somehow. Tomorrow I plan to tell Grace about it, see if maybe my hunch is correct. My gut tells me that if I’m right—”
“Our little Flintlock might just be one bad-A ninja fighter.” Rhiannon winked.
“You’re so ridiculous.” She stuck out her tongue.
“And the guy, who is he?” Cain asked, trying to get them back on track.
“I don’t know who that guy is, but he’s not the only one I’ve visited lately. There’s another guy, a fae I think, and his name’s Graham.”
“Have you gotten a chance to talk with him?” he asked.
“No.” She blinked rapidly. “I only know his name because a spirit fae told it to me. I’m starting to think that a lot of the dreams I’m having are actually teaching me about who I am. And somehow Graham’s a part of all this, because he’s just like me.”
“Explain?” Cain grunted, still hanging tight to her hand, now rubbing the delicate webbing between her fingers.
She inhaled deeply. “I’m not even really sure what’s what right now. All I know is Graham’s a fae. For the past few nights I’ve been visiting him. Not consciously though, like I’ll close my eyes and then I’m just there.”
She looked at her fingers. The gesture was unconscious in nature and one Cain immediately picked up on.
Noticing he’d looked at her hand, she said, “In that dream world I can move through walls, trees, stone, it doesn’t matter. But when I tried to walk through his bars, they burned my fingers. In the dream and for real.”
He squeezed her fingers. “You say he’s a fae. Most legends say the fae can only be held down by iron.”
“Makes sense. I don’t know what the metal was made out of, but immediately something inside me screamed to back up. Like intrinsically I knew it was bad for me to keep trying.” Her lips tugged down.
Cain clenched his jaw, not really liking where his thoughts were leading him.
“So you want to find Graham?” he asked, not at all wanting to put more pressure on her. Cain would do anything to help her, but Abel came first.
She shook her head. “Not really. I mean, yes, I guess,” she spluttered. “Truth is, I think Graham found me.”
His skin crawled and he didn’t mean to tighten his hold on her, but he did. There was so much happening right now, issues that took precedence over the fact that Flint was an unbonded compass. She could leave him if she wanted to. If she met Graham, she could realize that it was the fae and not him that she really wanted.
As if sensing his inner turmoil, she smoothed the lines across his brows. “Cain, it’s not like that. I think Graham is being kept prisoner in the same place that Abel is.”
Rhiannon snapped to attention at that, practically jumping to her feet. “How do you know that? Did you see him?”
Cain’s heart was glued to his throat.
“No. But this was why I came out to you tonight to tell you about my dream. The dream I just had, with the spirit fae, he told me.”
“He might be lying,” Cain muttered, terrified to hope or believe that it could be true.
She nibbled on her plump red lip, worrying it between her straight teeth, and Cain couldn’t help but rub his thumb across the corner of her mouth. It terrified him how much she’d come to mean to him in such a short amount of time. He couldn’t lose Flint.
She sighed. “He wouldn’t have a reason to. In fact, he didn’t even seem to care that one of his own was there.”
The way she said it, Cain knew there was more. She was worried, but she patted his hand. A silent request that he not ask her anything about it right now.
“Where is he, Flint?” Rhi leaned in, blue eyes intent.
She shook her head. “I wish I could say I know. I don’t.”
“If you dream, could you ask Graham?” Cain asked, hating the thought of asking a stranger for help, but this was the closest they’d ever gotten to Abel’s whereabouts, and his pride would take a backseat to anything right now.
“I don’t know. Every time I try to talk to him he stays silent. I think he hears me, but I’m just not sure.”
“Try again,” Rhiannon commanded.
“Rhi,” Cain snapped.
“No, it’s okay.” Flint held her hands up. “Look, I’m trying to do whatever at this point to help out however I can.”
It was hard to know that they were so close and still so far. But Cain leaned his head on her shoulder and inhaled a deep breath of her, letting her fill his lungs, body, and soul.
Flint curled her fingers through his hair, and it felt so good. Sleep had eluded him for days; one touch from her was like a balm to his savage mind.
“Guys, I wasn’t sure whether I should tell you this next part or not, but when I was with that spirit…” She licked her lips. “He did something weird. I think he’s showing me things, training me somehow.”
“What did he do?” Cain narrowed his eyes.
“I was standing next to this robed figure on the hill, and when we turned, I saw this strange vision, like a memory or something, not real time, but it happened at some point. There was lightning snapping around a man that I could only guess had to be my grandfather, and he was looking at this”—she curled her nose—“thing with dozens of eyes all over its body—”
“Ugh.” Rhiannon planted a hand across her abdomen. “That’s disgusting.”
“Yeah, it was. But…” She wet her lips, and her eyes grew distant as she seemed to be recalling the dream. “It was something he did. He leaned over, and his eyes, I dunno, they turned like quicksilver or something. Really weird-looking, and he said some words that I can’t even… I can’t even remember what he said. But the language was so weird. And that creature in front of him started to scream, like ripping at itself with its big, black claws, and then I just woke up.”
Glancing between the two of them, she gave them a lopsided grin. “I don’t suppose either one of you knows what that means?”
Rhi shook her head. “You’re the first fae I’ve ever met in my life, Flint. I’d say this is definitely Grace’s domain.”
As much as Cain wished he could say otherwise, he regretfully shrugged. “I don’t know what that could be. I have to agree with Rhi on this one. Talk to your grandmother.”
Flint nodded but didn’t look at either of them. “I was sort of thinking that maybe I could go over to where the drone was being—”
“No.” He glowered. “No way.”
Cain didn’t even need to hear her finish the sentence to know what she was getting at.
Hiss
ing, she glanced up at him. And for a second the face he loved more than anything else in the entire world looked so foreign and different to him that Cain got it. Understood she wasn’t human anymore. She didn’t need him to baby and coddle her. But she also wasn’t trained. There was so much Flint still didn’t know about herself, and that made things just as dangerous.
There was no breeze in the air, and yet her hair undulated across her shoulders like the sinuous movements of agitated snakes.
“You don’t get to decide these things for me, Cain. I want to find Abel as much as anybody else.” She flicked a glance at Rhiannon.
Angry, scared for her, Cain felt all these things and it killed him. Because he wanted her to be independent, wanted her to feel a sense of worth, he wanted to treat her like he treated Janet or Rhiannon, but she wasn’t either of them. Because he didn’t care for anybody else in the world the way he cared for Flint.
Outwardly she looked changed, but was she powerful enough to come up against a drone who had no heart, no morals, and win? He wasn’t ever going to be comfortable testing that theory out. And yet she wasn’t his child either.
His voice was a scratchy burr as he said, “Flint, I—”
“What if we just let her look at it through a window?” Rhiannon asked softly, interrupting him. “Maybe see if that would help activate her powers?”
Sighing, realizing he’d lost this battle with them, now two against one. “Fine.”
Rhiannon immediately jumped to her feet.
“No. Not tonight.” Cain shook his head.
“But—” Flint frowned at him.
“Humor me. Please.” He looked at them both. “Most of us are still out trying to round up any strays. I’d rather not take any chances of anything going wrong.”
“Cain,” Rhiannon snapped. “She has you and me and—”
If there was one moment he was willing to push back, it was now. He loved his brother, and he was going to get him back one way or another, but he wasn’t willing ever take unnecessary risks where Flint was concerned.
“No, he’s right.” Flint sighed. “I’m excited, but the truth is, I’m tired and I still don’t feel well.”
His heart tumbled furiously in his chest with gratitude.
Rhiannon looked on the verge of tears, and though he suspected she wasn’t altogether pleased by their words, she didn’t fight it.
“Goodnight then. I’ve gotten crap sleep the past few nights—better do something useful with my time.” Rhi slipped off her bracelet, faded to mist, and fled.
“She hates me now,” Flint said softly.
Stroking her cheek with his thumb until she turned toward him, he shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you. She’s desperate. I can’t say that I don’t understand that feeling well.”
Her lips pursed.
He knew she wanted to say something; he could practically hear her thoughts screaming at him. “What?”
“Do you hate my dad?”
To be honest, Frank wasn’t his favorite person in the world right now. But he didn’t hate him. “No, princess. I don’t.”
“Do you hate me?” Her voice was reed thin.
“Why would you ever think I hate you?” he asked, genuinely confused. “Flint, I love you. You mean everything to me.”
Her bottom lip quivered. “Even with me looking like this? My dad can hardly stand to look at me now, Cain, I look so diff—”
Clutching her fingers tightly enough that he cut off her words, he shook his head. “Beautiful. You look beautiful. And there are so many things I wish I could say to you right now.”
Her lips parted. “Things like what?”
Suddenly Cain grew very aware of the fact that they were alone in her trailer. That she wore only his shirt as covering, and that they sat on top of her bed. Her hair was rumpled, and so were the sheets.
He groaned, heat and need pulsing through his blood like a raging fire.
He framed her satin-soft cheeks with his callused palms, the room growing fraught with tension. Her chest rose and fell heavily.
Bonding, taking that final pledge, pounded through his body like steel-hammer blows. They were young, but he knew he’d never feel like this about anyone else.
“I’m going to kiss you, Flint,” he said in a voice grown thick and deep as the rager in him came to life, but not with fury. “And when I’m done, you’re going to tell me to leave your bed.”
She shook her head, latching her hands onto his wrists. “Cain, I—”
With a greedy moan, he stole her words, swallowed them as he slipped his tongue alongside hers. He needed her, wanted her more than anything else in the world, but bonding to her now—it was wrong and it was selfish.
The thought of Graham, or anyone else in this circus seeing her, wanting her, it drove him crazy. But Flint was only just coming into her own, and he needed to be strong enough to let her. Because if she did choose him, he wanted it to be forever.
47
Flint
Flint came awake slowly, feeling as though she’d never had a better night’s rest. She’d had no more visions; this time sleep had just been sleep and she was so grateful for that. She was just about to stretch her arms high above her head when it dawned on her that there was another very warm and very huge presence in the bed beside her.
Heart pounding in her throat, she snapped her eyes opened and almost let out a shriek of surprise. Cain was the warm, hard blanket surrounding her.
His arms and legs were tangled tightly around hers. She had her back pressed to his front, and somehow they had twisted like pretzels to make it work.
Biting her bottom lip, stomach a knotted mess, she wasn’t sure whether to move or stay put. She was due at the training tent in about thirty minutes, but… Cain was sleeping with her.
In her bed.
All night!
She vaguely remembered never actually telling him to leave, but sleep had been too pressing a call to ignore and she had passed out soon after that awesome kiss.
Smiling from ear to ear, she decided that one extra snuggle into him wouldn’t hurt anything. Wedging her bottom as tightly against him as possible, she took several deep breaths of his unique, piney scent. Just then a groan that sounded sleepy and not fully cognizant rumbled past her ear.
His hand, that she’d somehow trapped beneath her bottom, curled upward and a slow, exciting, yet terrible heat spread through her limbs like sun-warmed molasses. Cain was touching her.
It wasn’t exactly an intimate spot, but… it kind of was. Her legs tingled, and she became aware that this wasn’t at all like the sleepover she’d had with Abel.
Not wanting to move an inch and yet begging him silently to slide that hand forward just a little, she held absolutely still, like a deer caught in the glowing headlights of an approaching car.
Mumbling cutely, his hand moved. But not down like she’d hoped, he’d wiggled it out from between the bed and her body and placed it, almost passively, on the curve of her hipbone.
Blowing out a ragged breath and with fire still raging like dragon’s flame in her blood, she decided that she had to see his face. Even if it was just to see him laughing at her because he knew what she was feeling and he was torturing her on purpose.
Rolling over was an odd ballet on the small bed. Her knees knocked into his thighs; her hands pushed against his chest to get the leverage she needed to turn. And when she did, it was to discover that he hadn’t been awake at all.
Cain’s eyes were closed and fluttering, twitching every so often, as though in a deep sleep.
His lips were slightly parted, and this time when it grew hard to breathe, it had nothing at all to do with the restless need she felt whenever she was around him. She’d never seen him look so peaceful. So relaxed.
There was always an edge of fury that simmered just below the flesh of his skin. Cain walked around with a giant chip on his shoulder—the slightest of offenses could bring his beast roaring to life.
&nb
sp; She’d witnessed his rages now a few times. But here he was, this big, strong man sleeping soundly beside her.
Her heart totally turned into a puddle in her chest at the thought of just how much he must trust her to let his guard down so completely.
Unable to hold back from touching in some way, she grazed her fingertips along his brows. A soft sigh escaped him, as though even in his dreams, he knew it was her.
Flint was turning eighteen in just a few more days. Somehow in all the drama and stress, she’d completely forgotten that fact. She was so young, and so was he. This shouldn’t be happening between them.
Date, yeah. Hang out. Maybe go to a couple of dances, plan for that special prom night at some remote cabin in the woods. That was what she’d imagined she’d be doing at eighteen.
But not this. Not this soul-deep bond that made her want to cry at the thought of him leaving her. At the thought of losing him.
Flint hurt deeply at the loss of Abel. She felt his absence like a knife to the heart. He was her friend and she loved him dearly.
But she was gone for Cain. Completely.
When she thought of her life, of her next couple of years, she couldn’t picture a world without him in it. Without him looking at her the way he did now. Without his touch, his love.
She continued to trace the sharp lines of his face. And when that was no longer enough, she scooted in just a little. Just enough that her nose aligned with the side of his jaw. Careful to keep her morning breath off him, she kissed his cheek.
Cain’s flesh trembled.
“I love you,” she whispered into his ear. “I don’t know when this happened to me, I think maybe the day you first watched me at my locker. I love you so much sometimes it’s scary.”
He held absolutely still. So still that she knew he’d woken up, but he wasn’t opening his eyes. Maybe he enjoyed this calm, this quiet. Or maybe he wanted to hear more, but her heart was too full for her to say another word that wouldn’t end with her tears.
The Complete Tempted Series Page 52
