by A. K. Morgen
“He moved here about four years ago and has never had a girlfriend,” Dani said.
“Never,” Beth repeated.
“Not even a crush,” Mandy agreed.
“Don’t listen to them,” Chelle broke in. “He’s not gay. He’s simply not interested.” She shot a quelling look in her sisters’ direction before turning back to me. “He’s a great guy.”
I gaped at her, taken off guard by her forcefulness.
“He and Chelle are old friends,” Beth explained. “They spend a lot of time with the same people.”
“Oh,” I said, not sure I understood what she meant. The hesitant way she spoke made me wonder if he and Chelle had one of those relationships that would be classified as complicated on Facebook.
“We’re just friends,” Chelle said as if she’d plucked the question from my mind. “He’s a teaching assistant here and is good friends with my boyfriend, Gage Carter. You’ll get along with him great.”
“Ah, well, like I said, I don’t even know him,” I mumbled, a little uncomfortable at the confidence of her statement. As if she knew me better than I knew myself.
“You will,” Chelle said.
I think she meant the comment to be comforting, but after what happened Monday, her words came across a little too cryptic for me. Definitely my cue to bail.
I made a pretense of looking at my watch and shaking my head. “I should get going. I’m supposed to meet my dad over at the Inn.”
“Oh.” Mandy’s face fell. “Well, you want a ride?”
“Ah, no.” I climbed to my feet. “I think I’ll walk, get a feel for the place, but thank you.”
“Anytime,” she said with a smile. “We’ll have to get together soon.”
“I’d like that,” I replied, a little surprised to find I meant it. Chelle’s cryptic comment aside, they seemed great. Perhaps because they hadn’t pried for information on my mom, instead keeping the conversation light and easy. I turned to the triplets. “It was nice to meet all of you.”
They chorused their agreement.
“Arionna.”
I turned around to find Chelle staring up at me, her expression blank. “Yeah?”
“If you go that way”—she pointed to the street on the other side of the quad—”you’ll find a trail through the woods near the park. The park is on the other side of the overpass, but it’ll take you right to the Inn.”
“Oh. Um, thank you.” I started off in the direction she’d pointed out.
“You’re welcome,” her soft voice called from behind me. For some reason, I felt like she was talking about something far more consequential than directions.
I shivered and quickened my pace.
Chapter Three
I followed the path Chelle pointed out, not too sure what to expect, but willing to give the shortcut a shot anyway. Within half an hour, I found myself on the far side of the park, staring down at the trail she’d told me about. I didn’t have any need to walk over to the Inn; I’d only needed an out, but the path looked inviting.
I started walking.
Like the oaks littering the campus, the trees here lifted bare branches toward the sun. Bright rays slipped through the remaining leaves and pierced the ground, sending little bits of dust hovering in the air like fairies. Everything looked soft and gold.
I loved it.
Something about trees in the middle of winter soothed me. Maybe because they never looked dead, but more like they were resting for a while. In a world constantly in a rush, seeing such giant warriors sleeping served as a personal reminder that the world wouldn’t end if I slowed down to take care of myself for a little while. There was no law saying I wasn’t allowed to be vulnerable, or scared. That I couldn’t fall apart or hurt.
I needed the reminder.
About half a mile into the trees, I came across a crumbling brick wall. Trees grew up in the center of the decaying structure, casting a sort of spindly-branched ceiling over the entire scene. One side of the wall had fallen, and a jagged staircase had been created by the random fall of one large brick upon another. Vines grew up over the stairway, obscuring parts of it in thick, green ropes. I had the overwhelming urge to climb up and walk the length of it.
I stared at the wall for a full minute, trying to convince myself that I’d be a lot safer if I didn’t try. It looked as if a strong enough wind would topple it entirely. My attempt at rationality failed though, and I half skipped the few yards to the wall before scrambling up the time-rendered staircase and onto the narrow ledge the worn brick provided.
I gave the ledge a few pushes with my foot. The brick didn’t wobble.
Certain the top of the wall would hold my weight, I started across, my arms outstretched like wings to keep me balanced. I hadn’t enjoyed enough lighthearted fun in my life in recent weeks, and it felt good to do something so childish.
I halted halfway across and turned until I faced the center of the crumbling structure. I had no idea what sort of building the remaining wall had belonged to originally, but the ruins were picturesque.
I tilted my head back, closed my eyes and breathed.
The wall wasn’t high, six feet at most, but I imagined the air was cleaner, less polluted and a whole lot sweeter from my perch on top. For an instant, I felt free again, unburdened by everything that had been dragging me down. And then I felt foolish for thinking it. How free could I be, standing on a wall in the woods with a town on three sides and more woods on the other?
The wind rustled through the trees, and I froze.
Someone stood behind me.
I don’t know what made me so certain, but I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt if I turned back toward the trail, I’d see him standing there watching me.
Dace.
A shiver rolled up my spine.
I opened my eyes and turned.
I’d been correct on Monday; he did have a small scar above his right eyebrow, and he was completely gorgeous. Maybe even more so than I’d thought. He had the body of an athlete, lean but solid. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, and the gray fabric of his thermal shirt stretched tight over the muscles beneath.
He didn’t look happy to see me. To say he looked angry would have been a little bit of a big understatement. He looked furious standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.
“What the hell are you doing up there?” he demanded, stalking toward me.
His voice sounded like soft, dark velvet. Not at all the growl I’d heard the other day, but not quite smooth either. Everyone else I’d talked to since arriving had a rich Southern accent. He didn’t. The way he spoke was completely unique.
“Don’t you know the entire wall is ready to crumble?”
I opened my mouth to answer him, but he didn’t give me the chance to speak.
“Are you trying to break your neck?” He stopped right below me and glared up, his jaw clenched and his fingers hooked into the back pockets of his dark-wash jeans.
“Jesus,” he swore, glaring at me like I was an idiot.
My mouth fell open.
This, I thought, is who I’ve been obsessing over? This guy is supposed to make me feel better?
My eyes stung. I’d been so wrong. I’d wanted him to make me feel better, to make me forget for a little while how much I missed my mom, not to make me feel like a stupid, little girl.
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business, is it?” I snapped, returning his glare. I wanted to cry. Not because he was a total jerk, but because I’d only imagined our weird connection. That hurt for reasons I couldn’t even begin to understand.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he glared with his beautiful, angry eyes narrowed. Neither of us said a word, but neither of us backed down either. Nothing strange happened like it had on Monday, and tears welled behind my eyes.
I was so stupid!
He exhaled sharply and bowed his head. When he lifted it again, the angry lights had gone out of his eyes. They still weren’t
quite gentle, but they weren’t shooting off sparks either.
Satisfied he’d finished yelling at me, I returned to the little stairway of brick, then climbed back to the ground, breathing deeply to keep the tears from spilling over.
He didn’t say a word the entire time. He merely stood there looking at me.
Unbelievable.
I pushed past him and reclaimed the trail, keeping my head down so I didn’t have to look at him. I’d had about enough of crying. I didn’t want to fall apart over this, too.
I made it a whole two steps when he attempted to halt me.
“Wait,” he called.
I didn’t stop, nor did I turn around. I kept walking as if I didn’t hear him or didn’t care. Let him decide which was true.
He didn’t speak for a minute, and then he sighed.
His feet crunched on the leaves behind me.
Great. Just great.
He caught up quickly and fell into step with me.
I ignored him.
He didn’t go away though. He kept walking alongside me as if he didn’t mind in the least that I didn’t want his company. A little part of me thrilled at that. I don’t know why, because he was an ass. But I couldn’t help feeling like I mattered to him in some way, and part of me liked the feeling. A little too much.
I stopped walking and turned to face him, my hands on my hips and a scowl on my face. “Will you go away?”
“No.”
I waited for something else, something more, but he didn’t speak again. That single word was all he had for me. “What do you mean, no?” I demanded, narrowing my eyes at him.
My glare didn’t seem to faze him in the least.
He shrugged and continued looking at me. “No.”
Ugh!
I shook my head and resumed walking.
He did, too.
Having him so close drove me insane. Heat roiled from him, and I didn’t want to feel it. Yet he wouldn’t go away and wouldn’t speak either. I wanted to kick him.
“Are you always this way?” I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.
“What way?”
Infuriating, I wanted to say. “Impossible,” I said instead.
“Maybe.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I haven’t paid much attention, so I wouldn’t know.”
“You haven’t—” I stopped walking and looked at him, amazed. And then I laughed. I couldn’t help it. His answer was outrageous. I either had to laugh or strangle him, and laughing seemed the safest option.
“Impossible,” I muttered, no longer angry. “What do you want?”
“Ah, nothing.” He fell into step beside me again, his lips twitching.
The boy truly was far too beautiful.
“I wanted to apologize for the way I acted back there, I suppose.” He stumbled over the words, sounding unsure if he meant them.
“Why did you?”
“Why did I what?” He frowned.
“Act that way.” I didn’t care anymore, but I wanted to keep him talking. I liked his voice. The way he spoke wasn’t gentle, but his voice calmed me like Chelle’s had been before she’d gone all cryptic on me.
“You took me by surprise. I’m not used to seeing beautiful girls standing on crumbling walls as if they own the world. It’s not something you see every day, you know.”
He’d called me beautiful.
“Not really.”
“Not really what?” He frowned again.
Not really beautiful. I’d always been pretty, but the last month hadn’t done much for my appearance. I’d lost weight, I was pale, and my eyes and nose were perpetually red. Grief wasn’t flattering. “Not really unusual,” I lied instead of getting into all of that. I didn’t need any more depressing thoughts, thank you very much.
“How so?”
“There are all kinds of paintings depicting a woman standing on high ground.” At least, I hoped so. The only one I could remember was the Anasazi Noble Spirit Guardian, which was more a spirit than a woman, but whatever.
“Oh.” He was quiet for a long minute, then, arching a brow as if he wasn’t sure whether I was telling the truth or teasing him, he asked, “Is that true?”
“Probably.” I smirked when he shook his head and smiled ruefully. “Men always seem to think women venture to high ground to be mysterious.” That was my theory, at least. Anytime a woman stood a little higher than a man, men got uncomfortable.
“And do you?”
“Venture to higher ground to be mysterious? Nope.” I bit my lip to hide a grin. “I usually dance naked around a bonfire when the mysterious urge strikes.”
He threw his head back and laughed.
The deep, silky sound sent a little arc of heat waving through my body.
“The way you say that, I could almost believe it. I’m Dace, by the way. Dace Matthews.” He held out a hand.
“I’m Arionna Jacobs,” I said, staring down at his extended hand. So far, nothing weird had happened, but now that he wasn’t snarling at me, I had a feeling touching him would be madness. I also had a feeling not touching him would be worse.
I bravely placed my hand into his.
The contact was brief, but the reaction instantaneous.
The flippant mood disappeared as soon as my hand touched his. Power, presence, something raced up my arm and slammed into me, knocking the breath out of me.
I swayed, and our eyes met as Dace’s thoughts whispered through mine. Shock, awe, confusion, and fear. Not of me or the inexplicable things happening between us, but of whatever had flooded into my mind with him. I still couldn’t catch enough of his thoughts to know what the thing was, but I did catch enough to know I’d been correct that day on the quad. The thing wasn’t human, and it terrified Dace.
I should have been terrified by that, but I wasn’t. I felt as whole and right as I had the first time Dace appeared in my mind.
Even through his fear, I knew he felt it, too. His eyes darkened, and his pupils widened.
He held my gaze, an absolutely predatory gleam in his eyes. Nothing human reflected in that look, but something complete male did. His desire brushed across my thoughts like a caress. He wanted me, wanted to claim me.
Something inside fluttered. Heat and desire wound their way through me like a silk sheath brushing across my skin. I was a virgin, but I wanted him to claim me.
The thing in him wanted it just as much.
The animal’s desire hummed across my mind and Dace’s like an echo of an echo. Somehow he pulled back that part of himself, but I wasn’t so sure he would be able to contain it. The creature wanted out. Now.
I wanted him to let it out.
Dace hissed and jerked his hand from mine as if he’d been burned. He clenched his jaw, and his entire body tensed.
A muscle in his cheek twitched. Once, twice, three times.
The animal strained hard to get to me, growling audibly.
Dace’s fear lanced through my thoughts again, but I felt no fear at all.
For a second, I thought he would lose the internal battle of wills and the animal would come storming fully into my mind. For a second, I hoped he did lose that battle. I wanted to know who or what he was, and I had a feeling he’d never tell me on his own.
My first impression had been absolutely correct though: I did belong to him. I just wasn’t sure why, or how.
His shock rippled through me, and he blinked.
His thoughts vanished in an instant.
My head didn’t hurt this time, but I felt dazed by the sudden disappearance.
When I could think again, Dace still looked the same, but drastically different, too. The vitality and energy he exuded were gone. Even the green lights of his eyes were muted to an ordinary emerald color.
I took a step back, confused and alarmed at the change.
No one, and I do mean no one, can change so completely and so quickly.
My mind reeled. “What—?”
“I’ve got to go. Sorr
y I snapped at you earlier. Just be careful … please?” So much feeling nestled within the word; he actually seemed to plead with me to listen and agree on levels I hadn’t even known existed.
I wanted to promise to obey his request, but before I could follow through with the unfamiliar urge, he jogged back the way we’d come without another glance in my direction.
I stood there watching him as he faded into the trees, clueless again.
What happened? How? How did I feel? What did it mean?
I had no answers, save that for a minute, I hadn’t been alone in my mind. Dace had come rushing in, and he hadn’t come alone.
With the exception of Monday, I’d never felt anything so amazing.
The sense of relief rushing up overwhelmed me. I wasn’t crazy after all.
I might not have understood what that meant, but the confirmation sent relief shooting through me. Determination quickly followed. I had to find out more.
Had I heard his thoughts just once, maybe I could have believed I imagined the entire thing, but my imagination didn’t have near that much power. Besides, Dace’s voice sounded nothing like that growl. The way he spoke was low, dark … soft and rough at the same time. That possessive growl was something else altogether, and it was as instinctively familiar to me as Dace.
Rationally, I knew I should have been frightened, but I didn’t feel that way at all. For the first time in weeks, I felt optimistic. Like I could learn to deal with this new life, to accept it, and maybe even come to appreciate it.
That probably should have worried me, too.
Chapter Four
Dad and I went to Cabot for a laptop on Saturday. We returned four hours later with a laptop, an all-in-one printer, and enough other equipment to set up a small business. I didn’t know what half the stuff did, but he seemed to think we’d need everything at some point, so I didn’t argue much. I did, however, try to convince him to at least let me pay for the iPod he insisted I needed.
“It’ll drown out the stuffy professors,” he joked.
