Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set (18 page)

His hands tighten against her back as he leans in. His eyes droop closed as his lips part, his nose brushes against hers. “We can’t,” she says, wiggling out of his embrace.

When his eyes open, they are clouded over with desire. “What’s wrong?”

She jerks her head toward the two little girls who stand nearby watching every move they make with saucer-like eyes. The tiny Disney princesses clutched in their arms no doubt resemble the private moment she nearly shared with fate’s cruel idea of her own prince charming.

Gabriel rubs the back of his neck as he steps away. He tosses a wry smile at the girls and grabs her hand. She rushes behind him, eager to be away from the children and their parents’ disapproving glares.

Laughter bubbles in her throat as they emerge from the shark exhibit at a near run. Her chest heaves, sweat clinging to her skin as Gabriel yanks her into a darkened corner, pressing himself against her. “Where was I?” He grins as he leans in.

“You were about to tell me that you are like this with all of the other girls.” She’s stalling and he knows it.

He leans back just enough to see her clearly. “No, I’m really not. There has never been anyone like you in my life before, Rose. It’s like somehow you complete me.”

Roseline rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on, that is a terrible line.”

The pressure of his hand on her hip increases. “I can’t change the truth.”

Like a moth to a flame, she is drawn in, with little fight left in her. Her body willingly molds around his, her lips quivering as they seek his out. “I barely even know you and yet my world seems to revolve around you. You’re in my dreams, my every waking thought. I can’t get you out of my mind and it’s driving me crazy.”

Roseline expels a breathy laugh. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

A growl rises in his throat as he crushes his lips onto hers. She locks down on her muscles, refusing to let them move an inch while his tongue parts her lips. The boiling begins in her heart, liquid fire pumping to all areas of her body. The flames lick hotter and hotter as her lips move against his, her body pressing intimately close.

The kiss lingers, their need rising and fading like the tides. Roseline’s mind shifts into autopilot as she sinks into his embrace. After what feels like an eternity, she realizes something is off. Gabriel should have come up for breath ages ago, and yet his lips still move against hers.

“Excuse me—” Roseline gasps and pulls back. A middle-aged security guard, with quite an impressive paunch, stands next to them, his face stern with disapproval.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, retreating from Gabriel’s arms. He wavers but manages to hold his ground. His skin is flushed; his eyes glow brightly in the dim light, his scent searing her nose as she fights to keep her distance.

“This is a family museum, you know. I think you two should follow me,” the man orders gruffly, pointing toward a door hidden in the shadows on other side of the room.

Embarrassment burns along her cheeks as she follows the guard, keeping her eyes glued to the floor. She is not upset about being caught. She is grateful for the interruption. Gabriel’s taste, his touch, still lingers too fresh in her mind. If the guard had not come along…

Seventeen

Roseline sits with her hands in her lap, refusing to meet Gabriel’s intense stare. The sporadic heavy sighing from the driver’s seat is enough to portray his frustration. “Jimmy’s again?” he asks, his voice unnaturally void of emotion.

They have spoken very little to each other after being kicked out of the aquarium with a stern warning not to return. What is there to say? The connection between them is undeniable and, if anything, it is strengthening. This is too confusing. Only Roseline understands the why but the how is remaining annoyingly illusive.

She shrugs, not trusting her voice. No doubt, it will waver at the worst moment and betray her sadness. That will only make this harder.

Buildings slide past as Gabriel weaves through Chicago. They hit the interstate at a breakneck pace that doesn’t end until he slams on the brakes in the bar’s parking lot. The engine continues to purr but Gabriel doesn’t reach to turn it off. He just sits, waiting.

Roseline knows she has to leave. The thought of uprooting her life again is too painful to even consider. Leaving Sadie and William behind is agonizing but the thought of severing all contact with Gabriel is unbearable. Her stomach twists at the thought of it, but what choice does she have? If she stays, his life will be forfeit. She can’t let that happen.

She dips her head. It feels as if someone has ripped out her heart and stuck it on the end of a blunt stake for all to see, bleeding and mortally wounded but unable to die.

No. Not someone. She has done this to herself. It is a choice that must be made and she must be strong enough to follow through with it, but she can’t even begin to know how.

“Thanks for the ride,” she whispers, holding the door handle as if it were the only lifeline to the life she wishes she could embrace. She can’t seem to force her legs to work.

“Of course,” he replies. “See you tomorrow, bright and early.”

She grimaces at the thread of excitement lining his voice. “I really don’t think it is a good idea for you to meet me at Sadie’s car tomorrow. It will just fuel the gossip.” She hides her bitter smile, knowing that the whispers would not be too far from the truth. She did make out with him. Painfully brief or not, it is still the best kiss of her entire existence.

“Not the car.” He turns to look at her. “The library. Did you forget?”

“You still want to meet there after what happened this morning?”

He reaches across the center console to pull her hand into his. His fingers twine with hers. She closes her eyes to the sight, wishing she could take a snapshot of this moment, of his touch, to carry with her. “Nothing has changed, Rose.”

Her eyes fly open wide as her head whips up. She stares back at him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Of course it has. Everything has changed,” she cries.

A tremor begins in her hands and works its way through her body. She finds herself standing on the edge of apprehension, teetering precariously toward full-blown panic. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. She pulls her hand out of his grasp. “We can’t be together.”

“Why not?” he presses, refusing to let her have a second to think. “Because it’s too intense for you? Are you scared of what might happen if you get too close to me?”

Roseline nods. Her hair falls in shifting waves of bronze over her face, concealing her tears. “Yes.”

“Huh,” he mutters. “Okay. I wasn’t expecting a straight-out admission.”

Roseline groans, burying her head in her hands. Why does this have to be so complicated? If she were normal, or he were immortal, then maybe it could have worked, but she isn’t and neither is he. Fate is just not that kind.

When she was planning a life without Vladimir, she never dreamed that she would meet someone else. Why would she? The emotional scars run deep. So deep that only Fane can handle them, or so she thought.

How can she explain how insane the idea of building a relationship would be? Even if she could find the right words, he will think she is crazy, or worse, bound for a mental institute, and rightfully so. Humans are not meant to know about her world.

She draws in a small steadying breath. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me. My past is…complicated. I can’t drag you in to it.”

“Are you in trouble?” Gabriel’s eyes darken, like rain clouds on a summer day.

She wants to lie, to tell him that he is way off base, but her emotions are too raw. He will see through her lie in an instant. “There was this guy…he was very abusive and that’s why I had to leave. I thought I could run from him, but it was a fool’s dream. Sooner or later he will find me, and when he does he will hurt anyone around me. I can’t risk him finding out about you.”

There, that was the truth. Albeit it a watered-down version, but still true.

Images of Gabriel’s face, contorted with pain at the hands of Vladimir, helps to firm her resolve. “I’m so sorry,” she says, turning to stare out the window at the empty parking lot. Broken beer bottles and cigarette butts litter the cracked pavement. “I never meant to hurt you.”

“Don’t do that,” he says, tugging at her arm until she turns to face him. The hardness in his eyes softens as tears trail down her cheeks. “I’m not giving up on us and you can’t either.”

Roseline yanks on the door handle and shoves the door open. She hesitates on the edge of the seat, unable to look back at him. “I don’t have that luxury.”

She snatches her bag from the backseat and hops out of the car. With a shove hard enough to rock the door on its hinges, Roseline rushes away. The sound of her name being shouted into the wind reaches her. She doesn’t stop, doesn’t turn back.

“Goodbye,” she whispers as she leaps over the chain-link fence at the back of the bar and sprints out of sight.

Eighteen

The physical pain is agony but the mental pain is unbearable. Roseline has a gaping hole in her heart, oozing misery at an alarming rate. The passing days have run together and the pain shows little sign of letting up. On the contrary, it seems to be ramping up with sadistic excitement.

Now she knows why bonded partners are never meant to be separated. Although the bond in invisible, the effects are not. She can’t eat, can’t drink, and can’t think of anything but Gabriel. Every cell, every fiber, longs for him.

She stumbles from the chair by the window back to the bed. The same routine she carries out every hour just to have something to distract her. It doesn’t really work, but she feels better just thinking it might sometime. It is pretty pathetic when she thinks about it so she chooses not to.

Cockroaches scatter around her feet, skirting the yellowing floral wallpaper that is peeling from the motel walls. They seem to thrive off the mold growing around the pipes in the bathroom. Who knows what other things lurk in this room.

She made it to somewhere in southern Illinois before running out of gas. Not the crude oil type. Emotionally and physically she had fallen apart. Her legs had given out on her and dumped her off on the front step of this dive, nearly a thirty-minute run from Jimmy’s bar and where she left Gabriel behind. One quick stop at her house for a bag of clothes was all the delay she allowed before she ran for it.

Too bad she doesn’t have a clue where here really is. All she knows is that it’s some backwoods motel with farmland as far the eye can see. Despite the Bates Motel feel about the place, at least it does offer one very appealing thing—privacy.

Flickering static on the TV screen is the only light she allows into the room. The only interaction she has with the outside world is her call to the lobby to pay the sleazy, armpit-stained, tobacco-spitting clerk, who has suggested more than once that he is free after ten each night if she wants some company. She might want to wallow in her degradation but she does still have
some
moral standards.

When the phone rings on the bedside table, Roseline stares blankly at it. The annoying sound wiggles through the haze shrouding her mind. Her hand flops against the sticky tabletop and shoves the old-fashioned corded handset onto the floor. The ringing is replaced by an irritating loop informing that the call has been disconnected.

Rolling back over, she buries her face in the soiled cover. Even the scent of sweat isn’t enough for her to move. She wants to die, to do anything to make the pain cease.

With cat-like agility, Roseline leaps from her bed and hovers behind it as the motel room door rocks on its hinges. Someone or something has just slammed against the other side, and it doesn’t sound human.

Terror washes over her like a wintry sleet as her gaze sweeps the room. Acid churns in her stomach as she realizes she never planned an escape route. Stupid!

She lunges for her bag, tucks, and silently rolls to her feet beside the door. Whoever is on the other side will know she is braced for attack. It is fight or be taken and she refuses to even consider the second option.

The wall-shaking bang comes again as Roseline crouches low, dropping her bad beside her so her hands are free to fight. There is a pause and a disgruntled curse. Her ears prick at the sound of a key sliding into the lock. She scowls, annoyed with the hotel clerk for royally screwing her over.

Her muscles pull taut as she waits. She stills her breathing and focuses only on the sounds outside—deep breathing and indecipherable, angry muttering.

The door swings open and she dives, slamming the person into the far wall. Plaster rains down around them as Roseline fights for the upper hand. “Ouch!”

“Gabriel,” she gasps, leaping back from him. She backs away, watching as the figure rises in the dark.

“Nice to see you too, Rose.”

“Oh no.” She quickly spans the small gap between them and spins him around, scanning for any injuries. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he huffs, holding his bruised side. “Man, you’ve got a good tackle. Too bad you’re a girl.” His chuckle sounds forced and edged with a pain that he tries to smooth over. Roseline helps him to the edge of the bed, wincing at the drool-dampened spot where she had just been lying.

She backs away to a safe distance once he is settled. Crossing her arms over her chest, she chews on her lower lip. When he doesn’t speak, she is forced to ask the obvious question. “Why are you here?”

“I came for you.”

She sinks to her knees as her wobbly legs give way. It is bittersweet to see him. Just the sight of him chases away the sorrow.

Apart from a gash above his eyebrow and probably a few bruised ribs to add to what looks to be one heck of a black eye, Gabriel looks amazing. All warmth and unrelenting love.

“Ugh,” he grunts, looking around the room. “This place is disgusting.”

Roseline makes a sweep of her own and cringes. “Yeah, well I wasn’t going for five-star luxury. I just wanted somewhere secluded.”