by J. C. Hart
Silence filled the space and he finally looked up to see Brandon and Alyssa looking at him. Their expressions unreadable.
"I think you should go back," Alyssa said. Brandon turned to her, frown in place.
"What do you mean he should go back? Didn't you hear her? She has it in for him, big time. If he goes back he's never leaving. What about Sam?"
"Sam's a big girl, she'll deal with it. If Kyle goes back then we have him on the inside, he can tell us what comes next, he can be the key to solving this whole debacle. We need to take that woman down before anyone else gets hurt."
"It's you," Kyle said. His throat was dry and the words almost didn't come out.
"What?" Alyssa turned back to him, her stare throwing daggers at him.
"Anahera wants you dead. She wants to bring down the barrier because then it will be easier to do what she needs to do." Kyle scrubbed his hands over his face, exhaustion suddenly hitting him. "She wanted me to do it, but I couldn't. I..." He looked to Brandon, who Samantha must have talked to because he knew so much. "Ever since Shadow became a part of me things have been different. I've got feelings, a conscience... It's taking some getting used to, but I knew I wouldn't be able to go through with it, especially not after meeting Samantha."
Alyssa was tense, but Brandon wrapped his arm around her, drew her in and kissed her hair. "We're not going to let anything happen to you, don't worry. We'll find a way to beat this then you'll be safe, so will the Bay. And the Gods."
Alyssa tugged on her earlobe and then stood up, grabbing the bottle of wine off the floor. She didn't stop drinking until it was empty.
"I'm going to crack another, anyone want a glass? Because I'm hoarding the bottle." She was out the door before anyone had time to respond.
"She's..."
"She's brave, and strong, but she's still human. Not every day you find out there's a hit on you right? Or is that how things go in your line of work?" Brandon raised an eyebrow, though he didn't seem to be as angry about Kyle's revelation as he'd expected.
"No, I swear. I'm no hitman, and I have no desire to be. I know you’ve got no reason to trust me—"
"No, that’s not quite true. You brought Sam here where she could be saved, you told us the truth, and if Sam is to be believed—and she is, that woman is always honest—then you are her long lost soul-mate, and there is goodness in you. Hell, you have no soul. I think that gives you a get out of jail free card." Brandon grinned, a chuckle slipping out. "That said, this whole 'woman who owns your soul' thing is an unknown for us. Can she use that to make you do things you don't want to?"
Kyle sighed. "I don't know. I've never really pushed that hard... Until I could feel again, until I met Samantha, it never seemed important. But I guess we're going to find out."
Brandon mulled on that, nodding slowly, though he didn't reveal his thoughts. "I'm going to check up on Alyssa, why don't you go sit with Samantha. I'm sure she'll want to see you when she wakes."
Kyle swallowed hard, but he didn't move until Brandon had left the room. Then he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, wishing he knew what to do, wishing he could get some kind of overview on the whole thing. At the end of the day though he was just one human, one mortal, in a game of the children of gods and other magical creatures.
If he had half a brain he'd get the hell out of there, but he was stuck. One woman held his heart, the other his soul—and he figured he'd need at least one of those if life was going to be worth living.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When she came to she didn't know exactly where she was, but she could feel the weight of Kyle's hand in hers and she smiled.
"You're still here."
"I told you I would be. I'm awaiting the decision as to whether they send me back to Anahera or not. It sounds like they've called in the troops to figure that out." Kyle nodded toward the closed door. "I think they might have locked me in."
Samantha listened carefully, and she could hear the faint rumble of conversation from another room. Definitely more people in the house, probably Noah and Melody. It was only a surprise that neither of them had barged in to check on her.
"Don't take it personally, it's just that things have been... Well, you know." She grimaced. It was hard to align the things he'd done with the person she knew he really was, with the way her body reacted to him. "They'll want to trust you, for me, but because of the situation it's going to be hard. I should go out there." She tried to sit up, but a wave of pain forced her back down. "Guess I'm not totally healed."
"But you're alive. That's all the really matters."
"And you're here with me. That matters too. Kyle. You have no idea how much I've longed for you, you specifically, there was never anyone else I could fall in love with." She closed her eyes again, breathed deep to push down the emotions that were welling inside her. She wasn't going to cry, not now. There had already been too many tears. After today she knew that life was short and she was damned if she was waiting any longer for happiness.
"I wish I could say the same but she took everything from me when I was so young. I never had any idea what I was missing, but now that I've met you I have no idea how I could have forgotten you. Sam. I'm so sorry. What Anahera did—"
"Is what Anahera did. You didn't bring her to my house, you didn't make her pull the trigger. Don't for one second beat yourself up. Whether you were with her or not, she'd have been here doing damage one way or another."
"She saw your address on my arm. I thought I'd faked not caring enough to keep you safe, but I don't think you can be safe, not from her." He rested his head on her bed and she ran her fingers through his soft brown hair.
"It's the other way around. She's not safe from me." Sam could feel something new wending its way through her body, perhaps it was a spark of heat from her star father, or the chill of space, but she'd never been more certain of anything in her life.
Anahera was going down. Not just for the Bay's safety, but for Kyle's.
SAMANTHA WAS PERCHED carefully on the couch, eating pizza straight from the box. The others were there: Brandon and Alyssa sharing the single chair while Melody sat at the other end of the couch, Kyle in between them, and Noah on the floor. Jake and Moana hadn't come. She’d talked to Jake, filled him in on who and what Kyle was—and then left it up to him to diffuse the situation with Moana. Hopefully Jake could cool her off and get her to see that Kyle wasn’t the real enemy, and until then he would keep her away.
The food was good and the ache in her body fading fast. She felt more alert, more awake than she had in...well, just about ever, now that she was thinking about it. Normally she had to reach to find information from objects, but now a mere brush of her hand against the skin of another was enough to bring relevant information to the surface. And not just historical stuff, the shallow things too, the stuff from now.
Like Kyle, whose leg was pressed against hers. Even through the fabric she could feel vibrations off him, his fear, his anxiety over what might happen next, his complete awareness of his humanity here amongst demigods and the like. Strongest, his love of her. He didn't understand it, but it was there all the same. Unexpected, a little unwelcome, but so much a part of him that there was no denying it. She grinned.
"Well if you'd asked me a week ago what I'd be doing tonight I wouldn't have said this," Noah said, breaking the silence, if not the tension in the room.
"I don't think any of us could have predicted this. And I'm not sure we can predict what happens next either," Melody added. She rubbed Noah's shoulder, and he reached up, gripping her hand in comfort.
"Did you decide what to do with me?" Kyle asked. He'd barely touched the food on his plate, though Sam could hardly blame him. She scanned the room, noted the look between Alyssa and Melody, but no one met her gaze.
"He's not a captive, right? We're not keeping him here because we feel like he's a threat? Because he's not." She tossed her crust into the pizza box. "He's my soul-mate, and I know that you don't kn
ow him like I do, but we can trust him. He'll do the right thing."
"If he can. We still don't know what it means for him to have no soul," Melody said.
"Or how she might use it against him," added Brandon. "We heard her when she called, and it didn't sound like she was going to let him go easily."
"Well we need to solve this!" Sam dropped the pizza box on the ground and stood. She paced through the middle of the room, knowing it was completely unlike her. "I'm not going to sit around here waiting for her to spring whatever she's got in mind on us. We need a plan. Is there any point bringing down the barrier if she's already here? Maybe we could trap her inside, find a way to take her power off her. Do you think that Gods would help us neutralize her? No. Rehua told me to save them, I don't think they have the power to intervene directly—"
"Sam." Melody stood up and gripped Sam's arm.
She shook herself out of her train of thought and shrugged off Melody's hand. "What? I'm trying to come up with a plan here and no one seems to want to help. I can't just sit here and—" She stopped when Melody hugged her. Sam rested her head on Melody's shoulder and took a deep breath. "I can't lose him. I can't lose him again."
"I know," Melody said softly. "We don't want you to lose him either. Don't worry, we can all see how much this means to you. We just have to be smart about it."
"We'll find a way," Noah said.
She turned to look at Kyle, still sitting there on the couch like he couldn't move, didn't know his place. The look in his eyes tore at her heart and guilt that she hadn't turned straight to him for comfort swamped her. She wasn't used to this, to him having physical form. It was going to take a little getting used to.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Sam had come back to sit beside him, their hands were linked, her head rested against his shoulder. It felt like they could be at any dinner party, anywhere in the world. Normal people, doing normal things—if it weren't for the content of their conversation.
He sat there in silence, letting it wash over him. Every now and then Samantha would catch his eye, smile at him, tighten her grip on his hand, or place a gentle kiss on his cheek.
It was killing him.
The ache had started not too long after Anahera had called. He'd thought it was just hunger pain, or aches from carrying Sam all the way here, but the way it had morphed and twisted over time made him think again.
His phone vibrated and he instinctively reached for it, then changed the movement into a scratch. "I've just got to use the bathroom," he said softly to Samantha. She smiled and moved so that he could get up, though she held onto his fingers until the last moment possible. He leaned back in, kissing her deeply. No one else in the room mattered, just her, this moment.
The phone vibrated again and he pulled away with a smile. "I'll be back in a minute."
"Okay."
He walked down the hall, closed the bathroom door behind him and leaned against it, grimacing at the pain that arced through his body. He grabbed his phone, opened the messages.
Can you feel it yet? You need me.
I miss you. I know that sounds weird, but I do. I think I always thought I'd have you, with your soul or without, but now I can see I was deluding myself. Doesn't really matter though because I DO still have your soul. Come home, Kyle. It's only going to get worse.
He banged his head against the door and groaned. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Sam—he'd rather die than do that, but that was exactly what might happen if he didn't return. And he'd just found her—just found himself—could he really abandon any hope of making it last a little longer?
The phone vibrated again and it took all his willpower not to throw it across the bathroom.
I know she's still alive. I have people, but then you knew that. Come home before the morning and I'll spare her.
Fuck.
He should have known she'd send someone out to find him. To find Samantha. He would do what it took to keep her safe, but he was going to wait as long as possible. If he could have just one night with her it would all be worth it.
KYLE LOOKED PALE AND drawn when he came back into the lounge. Samantha got up and crossed the room, frowning.
"What's going on? Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, just think the day has caught up on me." He smiled, but it was flat and Sam felt the flutter of nerves in her gut.
"If you need to rest..." she said.
He reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb grazing against her skin, so tender it made her want to weep.
"Can we go back to your place?"
The longing in his eyes was too much to resist, not that she wanted to. She gripped his hand, turning to the others. "We're going home. I need some rest and I think Kyle does too."
Alyssa got a glimmer in her eyes and her lips twitched, but thankfully she kept her mouth shut.
"We'll catch up in the morning then," Noah said. "Be careful."
"We will," she said, pulling Kyle from the room, the house, and out into the night before anyone else could speak. "Are you okay to walk? We don't really have taxi's here."
He chuckled. "I'm okay. Really, I just... It's been a long day and the only thing I want right now is to be alone with you."
They were silent all the way home, they didn't need words with the current of emotion that moved between them. It wasn't until she opened the gate to the backyard that she remembered that she'd been shot there, the memory a jolt to her body where the bullet had hit. She gasped, and Kyle's grip on her hand tightened as she flinched.
"Maybe we shouldn't—"
"I won't let her make me uncomfortable in my own home, and I won't let her come between us." She pulled him forward and opened the door to the house. No one had thought to come and lock up, it just wasn't something they needed to do here and she was damned if she was going to let that change.
She turned to Kyle and kissed him. He seemed hesitant at first and then he returned the kiss, his passion ignited. She moved through the house, guiding him to her bedroom without breaking touch. She needed him to make everything feel right, to bring her fantasy to life. She'd never thought she'd feel this and now here he was.
"Are you sure," he murmured, pulling away to catch his breath.
"More than ever." She pushed him backwards, stripping her blood spattered tee off and letting her skirt drop to the floor. Kyle's eyes drifted over her body, her underwear the only thing covering her. He reached out to trace the edge of her wound, the skin softer, less pink than it had been only a few hours ago.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered, pulling her towards him.
She slipped her fingers under the edge of his shirt and tugged it up, he helped her, throwing it aside as she leaned against him. Their skin met, the sensation exquisite and she thought that if this was it, if this was all she could ever have it would be enough. One night. Then the world could go to shit and she'd still be happy.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The sound of Sam's breathing filled the air, soft, so freaking cute. Everything about her was amazing, and here he was, lucky enough to have made love with her. Love. He'd known nothing about that and now it overwhelmed his senses.
And he had to leave. He had to leave, or Sam's life was going to be in danger and he couldn't handle that. When he'd told the others that he'd never do anything to put her at risk, he'd meant it. He knew that leaving was going to hurt, but at least she would be safe. She'd be alive.
He grimaced, biting down on the groan that wanted to escape. The pain in his body was getting worse by the minute, and if he didn't leave soon he wasn't going to make it home.
He untangled his legs from Sam's, slid his arm carefully out from beneath her head and pressed one last kiss to her cheek. She roused, turned towards him, but he dipped back out of reach.
She was so beautiful, so vibrant. So full of magic. And not just because she was a god child, but because she was the One, and he never thought he could feel like this about anyone. He would never feel like
this about anyone again.
With a sigh he turned away, dragged his jeans on and reached for his shirt. The pain caught him by surprise though and he doubled over, clenching his stomach. He lay there on the floor, the pain overwhelming, and a part of him thought he deserved this. For all the bad shit he'd done. For all the pain he'd caused others.
For leaving Sam like this.
He grimaced and finished dressing; it took him about five minutes just to get his boots on. Once he made it to the kitchen he found a notepad on the bench and scrawled a message for Sam, and then he grabbed his wallet from his pocket and riffled through it. He knew that Sam could pick up feelings, images from objects, so he placed an amulet Anahera used to keep track of him on the paper, along with the ring he'd always worn—from back when he'd still had a soul. He willed all his thoughts into that ring before he parted with it, imbued it with his love for her, his sorrow at leaving like this. And hoped it was enough.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When Sam woke she felt better than ever, and she didn't think it was just from having finally made love to her soul mate. There was a lightness to the way she felt, a rightness to her being; Rehua's infusion of magic had changed her.
She ran her fingers over where the wound had been—totally healed, perfect skin again. And then she realized she was alone in the bed, and the same pang of loss hit her as when Shadow had disappeared. No. It was okay. He wouldn't have gone far, not now that they'd finally found each other.
Sam got out of bed and pulled on her dressing gown as she moved into the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. "Kyle?" she called. "Where are you?" She pressed her ear against the bathroom door before swinging it open but it was vacant. It was only when she returned to the bench that she saw the notepad, a scrawl of words covering it.
