When they reached the parking lot, the fair was a little over twelve dollars.
"Give him 40," Lance whispered.
She did, and the cab driver thanked Kandice several times as Lance got out.
"Cab drivers tend to forget any passenger that tips well," Lance said as the cab drove away.
At the SUV he said, "Look under the back passenger wheel. A small box."
Kandice found what he was describing and popped the box open. There was a key to the SUV inside.
"You have to drive," he said.
"I haven't driven a car since my driving test."
"No time like the present. It's like riding a bike."
Lance leaned his chair back and rolled to his good arm while cradling the injured one. He walked her through the basics.
"Don't worry it's easy."
She bumped into a light pole backing out. Lance laughed, "It'll be fine. Don't worry."
She drove in the far-right lane the whole way, with cars passing her as if she was standing still, blaring their horns. They just had to get home and everything would be okay.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Saturday, September 10th
AROUND 2:00 AM KANDICE PULLED INTO THE DRIVEWAY. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves—driving hadn't been easy.
Next to her Lance sat with his head nodding as he slipped in and out of consciousness. Blood ran down his shoulder.
She ran to the front door.
Slava opened it before she knocked. "What's wrong?"
"Lance-"
But before she could finish the sentence, Slava had pushed past her to get to the SUV. He still wasn't fully healed, but that didn't stop him from opening the passenger door in an attempt to carry Lance alone. Kandice carried the weight of Lance's feet and helped Slava lay him in the living room.
Yet another person bled out on the floor of her old house—it was too much to take.
With a knife and spoon, Slava removed the bullet. Kandice remembered what to grab from the bathroom without being asked. Still, knowing what to do didn't make it any easier to watch. Somewhere between applying the vodka bandage and getting the metal sheet on his skin, Lance completely lost consciousness and stopped responding. Slava tried slapping his face, but his body went limp.
Tears poured onto her cheeks, but she refused to succumb to her emotions. She would be the support he needed. Slava looked at her, but said nothing.
Now he thinks I'm weak.
She kept focused, and they worked without saying a word to each other. Once they bandaged Lance's arm—and the bleeding slowed—they moved him to the sectional and propped him up.
"Will he be okay?" Kandice asked.
"If I lived, he'll be fine," Slava said. "In fact, he should wake up in the morning."
"What?" she asked, nearly yelling.
"Yes. Gun wounds are easy to heal. I had Aether Walker venom in me."
Kandice laughed. This whole time she had thought Lance was dying.
No wonder Lance maintained a level head and got them back to the SUV without complaint. He'd known he would be fine. Ass, could have mentioned it. Maybe he had?
"How often do you heal each other?"
"At least once a month," Slava said. "We have never been hurt so close together since we stopped shifting together."
Kandice collapsed into an armchair. It felt weird not sitting in her usual place on the sectional.
Slava handed her a small glass of vodka, and she gulped it down in two swallows before asking for more. Slava poured her an even larger serving. She took a small sip and placed the glass next to her on an end table.
It was becoming clear why they drank. The burn in her throat helped numb the pain in her chest.
"You look tired," Slava said. "I can watch him tonight."
There was no way she could sleep at this point. Her heart still raced, and with each glance over at Lance. . . .
It was easier to focus on Slava, or the new view of the living room. They each took another drink.
"Is there anything else we should do?" Kandice asked.
"No," Slava said. "His wounds will heal with time."
"He was amazing. I didn't know how strong and fast he was."
"Yes. Lance is one of the best oboroten our family has ever had."
"If he wasn't so damn determined to protect me, he wouldn't have been shot. I know you've said no, but—"
"The answer is still no," he said. "The only person who can train you, is Lance. He does not want you to get hurt."
"I could've died," she said. "If he hadn't been there ... Or reacted in time ... I should've been the one shot."
"No. Do not think that," their eyes met. "Trust me. You were never in danger. Lance would die before he let you get hurt."
Kandice took another sip of vodka, "How can you be so sure?"
"Simple. When we shift, time moves slower for us than it does for everyone else. He probably blocked the bullet intentionally."
"What the fuck!" She rolled her eyes. "It would've been helpful to know this, before we started stalking the mayor."
"When we shift," he spoke slowly. "Time slows down to the point that we even see ourselves move in slow motion. He saw the bullet, and knew the only option was to get shot, rather than let you get hit. I can only speculate, but that is how I would have done it."
That settles it.
When Lance was better, he would train her—there was no way he could say no at this point. The ability to see time move slow would give her the edge needed to defeat any Aether Walker. It was more dangerous not to train her at this point.
But rather than press, Kandice dropped the subject.
They spoke at length about what it was like to move all the time. Slava told her stories about Lance as a child and his mother's love for him. He stumbled with words when he tried to describe her beauty. In turn, Kandice shared memories of her own mother watching after her and Blake.
One of Kandice's most vivid memories was from when she was around nine or ten, and they took a vacation to the beach. The smell of the salt water was still fresh in her mind. It was shocking how clear the memory of the trip was after all these years.
She could still feel how the salt water had burned her eyes after exiting the ocean, and recalled how it hadn't bothered her then. Swimming in the ocean was too much fun to care about a little salt-water burn.
Blake could swim, but the ocean was strong. Their mom told them not to go deeper than their waist. But Blake was fearless and wanted to swim further. They waded out into the water and a large wave came.
When she came up, Blake hadn't resurfaced. She screamed for their mom, who wasted no time and jumped into the water fully clothed. She pulled Blake up from the bottom and returned to shore.
He had hit his head on a rock and was bleeding—which required four stitches to heal—what Kandice remembered most was her mom's reaction. She hadn't yelled or even seemed angry, instead she just hugged him tight and laughed.
Their mother had said, "Not even the ocean could separate her from them."
When Kandice finished telling the story, there were tears forming in her eyes.
"Those are the tears of love," Slava said. "They can heal any pain."
Kandice smiled.
He's right.
Sharing the story made her feel 20 pounds lighter. She was proud to be her mother's daughter, and the memories filled her with joy. Her mother had been an amazing woman, and a great role model. The pain of missing her would never go away, but it was easing into a more manageable dull ache. They would reunite in the afterlife, Kandice was sure of it. Visualizing her mom made her feel whole.
Kandice tried to take another sip of vodka, but her glass was empty. Slava offered more, but she shook her head.
"No thanks. I think I should go to bed."
"Good night."
"Good night. Watch over him?"
"Always."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Saturday, September 10th
THERE WAS A SOFT KNOCK ON THE DOOR.
"Who is it?" Kandice asked
The door creaked open and Lance stood in the doorway, "It's me. Can I come in?"
"Sure."
His hair was somewhere between blue and black as he walked in and sat next to her on the bed. She scooted toward the wall to make room and felt the sheets knot up against her skin.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
He didn't answer and instead reached out his arm. It grew until it was behind her head—then retracted—lifting her to an inch away from his face.
"Yes?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered.
His mouth was hot, like a summer sun. His tongue caressed the tip of hers, and he nibbled on her lower lip. It was hard to fight back the moan. He wrapped both arms around her waist and glided her onto his lap and leaned her down into a long embrace. Her mouth felt full, and she couldn't tell her tongue from his.
She opened her eyes, and his frost-burst eyes stared into hers.
Was this really going to happen right now?
Her first time should be special, but this was different. Her body was tired, cold, and full of fear. His hand slipped under her shirt and he squeezed her breast. She closed her eyes and moaned in relief.
* * *
KANDICE BOLTED UPRIGHT IN BED. Her phone was ringing, but it stopped before she could answer. She'd been in a deep sleep and felt damp. Her heart raced, and her body tingled as the sheets moved against her skin.
Part of her felt ashamed. Her panties stuck to her—they needed to come off. It was dirty, but not in a good way. She got out of bed and stripped. Her clock read 10:48 AM. The last time she'd slept that deep had to have been before her parents died.
She rummaged through one of her bags and found two towels to cover herself with. It was only a short distance to the bathroom from her room, but it would be more than embarrassing to get caught hobbling down the hall half naked. After locking the bathroom door, she cranked the water as hot as possible without burning her skin. The heat washed away the tension from the previous night.
After several minutes of soaking in the heat, she washed up. With each passing minute, she adjusted the water to make it a notch hotter until it was on max heat. The sting of the hot water on her back was uncomfortable at first, but soon it transformed into a massage—each water droplet digging into her skin, eradicating the dull pain within.
She stayed in the water until it began to cool. The bathroom had become a sauna during her extended shower and the door wasn't visible in the steam. She found the sink and turned the cold water on and splashed it on the mirror.
Red-skin reflected back. It was as though she had fallen asleep naked outside in July. The fluffy towel felt like sandpaper against her skin. She took a seat on the toilet and rolled her joints, allowing them to pop at will. Her entire body relaxed.
Once the steam was all but gone, she wrapped herself up again in towels and shuffled over to her room.
Lance sat on her bed.
"Shit," he said and looked down at his feet. "I didn't realize."
He stood—keeping his eyes on his feet and tried to leave—but ended up bumping into her. He turned even redder than her. She slipped past him and closed the door.
"It's okay," she said.
He muttered apologies as he clunked down the stairs.
Sexy.
She picked out shorts and a blue tank top to wear. At least his embarrassment about the previous night was clear. Slava had been right about his timely recovery too.
By time she went down to the living room, Slava and Lance were eating lunch. A plate waited for her.
She ate in silence, listening as Lance and Slava talked about needing to be more careful. They thought it was a good idea to bring in new people who could help take down such a dangerous Aether Walker. It amused her that throughout any conversation Slava would slip into Russian. Lance would translate, and Slava would switch back to English.
After she finished she carried their plates to the sink.
"We need to talk," she said.
"Okay," Lance said.
"You need to train me."
"No. We've been over this. It's too dangerous."
"She knows the risks," Slava said. "If you have no other objection, you should train her."
Lance looked to Slava, and his face became an unreadable mask as he sat silent. There was something being said between them, but it was impossible for her to decipher what. Slava siding with her was unexpected. Their conversation last night must have impressed him.
He has to see that with Slava on her side, it was time.
"Well?" she asked.
"I'm thinking," Lance said.
After another long pause, Kandice asked again, "And?"
"I know you can fight," he said. "Otherwise, you would have been killed long ago. However, this is different. You've never fought Aether Walkers that are this powerful."
"Which is why I need training."
"You don't understand," Lance said. "It's not just training. Once you become an oboroten, you'll never be the same. I can't explain what it will cost. It affects each person different. No matter what, you will lose something about yourself."
"It's better than not being able to fight when the time comes. Besides, you need help, and you've both said Slava can't help anymore."
"I can help," Slava said. "I just cannot shift again."
"Sorry," Kandice said. "I didn't mean you couldn't help. Just that you couldn't fight alongside Lance."
Kandice saw the pain in their eyes. Lance was only trying to protect her, but a normal life wasn't in the cards for her future. Fighting Aether Walkers was her destiny now. Even once she found the one that killed her mom, she'd continue to hunt. She knew that now. There was no way to go back to a white-picket-fence life after what she'd seen.
"Fine," Lance said. "If you really want this, I'll train you."
"I do," she said. "When do we start?"
"Monday morning. I need to prepare."
Lance had a quick conversation in Russian with Slava, then left the house.
Kandice sat confused, watching as he walked out.
After she heard his car drive away she asked, "What was that about?"
"It is between us," Slava said. "You need not worry. He will be back."
"He's still hurt. Shouldn't he stay and rest?"
"No. He has to prepare himself physically. He will explain tomorrow, in his own way."
The conversation was over. Kandice had begun to pickup on some of Slava's subtle cues.
She gathered the last few dishes and then cleaned the living room and kitchen while Slava went back to his room. The tension was hard for her to handle.
Lance doesn't want to train me. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed so hard?
They had welcomed her in so quickly it was hard to remember they'd only known each other for a month.
There's no other way.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Monday, September 12th
"LUNGE!" LANCE YELLED. "When you're in a fight, there is no time to wait!"
Kandice panted, "I know how to fight. I've been training since I was fourteen."
"That doesn't matter. What you've trained to do will not save your life. Now attack me like you mean it!"
Kandice jumped toward him with all the vigor she could muster—sweat drenched her clothes. Earlier She had tried throwing kicks, but they didn't land. Lance was too fast for her.
His plan was to increase her agility by having her practice take down moves on him, but each time she got close enough to touch him, he would spin out of the way.
She landed on her face, "This is pointless. You're just dodging. You're obviously faster than me. If I could change, I could keep up with you."
"Becoming an oboroten won't make you faster ..." Lance laughed, "when you're in human form. I'm only this fast because I've trained. You've got to see the moment and react before your opponent."
"What d
oes that even mean? How can I be in the moment and react? I'm not some super warrior. I'm only human."
She sat down on the mat in the garage. Lance had bought the supplies so they could train without Kandice being injured. So far, it hadn't worked. There were traces of blood coming from her lip due to an elbow blow, and her ribs were sore from hitting the ground one-to-many times.
She took a deep breath. Lance was still bouncing around the garage, waiting. He seemed almost childlike as if this was all fun and games to him.
How the hell can he take this so lightly?
It didn't make sense, he showed no sign of being worn out. It pissed her off more with each round. She wanted to slap that look off his face. Each time she missed, she would have sworn he stuck his tongue out.
"Get up," he said. "There's no time for you to be laying about."
"I'm not laying about!" Kandice yelled. "I'm catching my breath!"
She popped up to her feet and got into her fighting stance that Master Monroe had drilled into her. Before he reacted, Kandice pinned Lance to the ground. His head hit the mat so hard that his eyes stayed shut for several seconds.
Gently, she tapped his cheek.
Lance opened his eyes with a smile, "Now, that's what I'm talking about!"
As she unstraddled him, Lance flipped her over and pinned her to the ground. The veins were pumping in the side of his neck. His eyes had turned a darker shade of blue and had black rims. Sweat dripped onto her face. She tried to slip out from under him, but he held her firm.
"Never drop your guard," he said. "Fighting is not what you've been taught. Throwing fancy kicks will not save you. You have to become an animal. Only when you can turn your mind off, and release the beast inside, will you be able to shift without dying."
"What?" she asked. "You never said it could kill me."
"It's unlikely, but it has been known to happen. We've told you how dangerous becoming an oboroten is. You're so focused on your desire to shift that you're not taking this serious. Now, try again."
They stood up, and Lance slid back each time Kandice reached to grab him. Her fingers would graze his shirt, but she couldn't get a hold on him. After another fifteen minutes, Kandice couldn't move, and was slower than when they had started.
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