Death and the Girl Next Door (17 page)

I walked into my room as a freshly showered Cameron sat shirtless on my bed, suffering through Brooklyn’s ministrations. She was applying antibiotic ointment and butterfly stitches to a nasty cut on his back.

“You’re a mess,” Brooklyn said.

“So they say.”

Her mouth thinned as it did when she wanted to say something but didn’t quite know how to put it. Gathering her courage, she took a deep swallow of air and asked, “Why do you hate Jared so bad?”

He stilled but didn’t answer.

After a moment, she continued. “Is it because he was sent to take Lorelei? Sent to take the person you’re here to protect?”

Keeping his eyes averted, he said softly, “He can’t be trusted.”

“How do you know?”

He looked at her from over his shoulder. “We have a history.”

She smoothed a bandage over the cut. “Can you tell me about it?”

“No.”

“Figures. Want a sandwich?” she asked, taking care not to touch the wound when she helped him with the T-shirt he’d confiscated from his truck. “Glitch makes awesome grilled cheeses.”

“I guess,” he said as his head popped through the opening at the neck.

“Fine. I’ll go place the order, but don’t think for a minute I’m not furious with you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

I winked at her as she left the room, then folded my arms over my chest. In obvious pain, he struggled to his feet and turned to me.

“She doesn’t like me much, does she?”

“Brooklyn? Brooke’s pretty direct,” I said, trying to come up with the right words to describe my best friend. “If she didn’t like you, you’d know it.”

He shrugged. “Guess that’s something.”

“Am I interrupting?”

I turned to see Jared standing in my doorway.

Cameron answered before I had a chance. “Isn’t that, like, your job? Interrupting the lives of others? Creating havoc and despair wherever you roam?”

“Cameron,” I said in that warning tone my grandparents used every so often.

“I’m going downstairs.” He strolled out, giving a light shove as he brushed past Jared.

Jared ignored him, his gaze unwavering as he watched me watch him. Even beaten and bruised he was stunning. A cut on the side of his mouth did nothing to lessen its beauty, its fullness emphasized by the dark shadows of his unshaven jaw. His eyes—sable shimmering pools framed in thick, impossibly long lashes—sparkled even in the dim light of my room. He was the most sensual being I’d ever laid eyes upon. Yet he was like those guys who didn’t know how beautiful they were. It made me like him all the more, and I wondered how his mouth would feel pressed against mine.

With a mental shake, I dragged my thoughts out of the gutter and headed for the bathroom. Just because a god stood in my doorway didn’t give me permission to objectify him. Really, it was like I hardly knew myself anymore.

“I’ll start the shower for you,” I said, suddenly self-conscious. “Glitch has guy shampoo and conditioner in here. You probably don’t want to use mine, unless you want to smell like a field of lavender or an apricot tree.”

I moved the shower curtain aside and turned on the water. After testing the temperature, I turned back. Jared had followed me and now stood in the bathroom doorway. There was something about him and doorways. He filled them up so completely.

His line of sight meandered to my mouth and lingered there a short while before traveling back up. “Your eyes get darker when you’re emotional.” He took a step toward me. “They’re darker now, like smoke from a forest fire drifting toward Heaven.”

“Really?” I asked, my lungs burning inside my chest. “I didn’t know that.”

His expression, curious and intense, sent sharp tingles arcing through my body. My insides went all mushy and my knees weakened. I couldn’t believe how wildly beautiful he was, how powerful and seductive.

He stretched out his hand. “I believe this is yours.”

I looked down. My necklace sat resting in his palm, the delicate chain laced over his long fingers. With a squeal of delight, I took it from him. “Where did you get this?”

The barest of smiles softened his features. “It was in my hand when I jumped from Cameron’s vehicle.”

“Oh, my goodness, thank you so much,” I said, fastening it around my neck. I couldn’t believe he had it.

He lifted the pendant where it rested, the backs of his fingers brushing the base of my throat, his skin warm against mine. If I let myself, I could look at him for all eternity. His strong jaw. His full mouth. His eyes so dark, they were like the ocean at night.

Realizing I had to get a grip, I snapped back to the present. Holy moly, I could barely think when he was around. “Right, um, I got you a few things from the store.” I pointed toward the sink. “A toothbrush, toothpaste. You know, the usual.” I smiled, pretending his whisper of a smile wasn’t causing a slight head rush. “But if you need anything else…”

His demeanor changed in a heartbeat. Pain etched his face as he snaked an arm around his stomach. “I feel wrong,” he said, grabbing the doorframe of the bathroom for stability.

“Wrong, how?” I asked, concern raising my voice an octave.

“I don’t know. Just wrong.” His stomach muscles seemed to contract. He clutched at his midsection and fell to his knees.

“Jared!”

Before I could kneel beside him, he lunged toward the toilet. He swallowed several times and I could almost feel the acidic bile as it rose up and burned the back of his throat. It refused to be squelched. Everything he had just eaten wound up in the toilet in a succession of violent purges.

With empathy guiding my every move, I jumped up to wet a washcloth, then knelt down and rested it on his forehead.

Breathing heavily into the toilet, he said, “Wrong like that.”

After I flushed the commode, I wiped the cloth over his face, being careful not to reopen any wounds. “You’re human now,” I said in my best scolding voice. “At least a part of you is. You have to be more careful.”

“I have to clean my mouth.”

I helped him to his feet. He shook, suddenly weak and pallid. And he was so tall, well over six feet, but I did my best to get him to the sink.

After he brushed his teeth, I filled a cup with water and tried to hand it to him. His doubt kept him from searching for it.

“You’re dehydrated,” I said as I placed the cup in his hands. “Take small sips.”

“I don’t feel dehydrated.”

“No matter, you are. Two days without H
2
O will do that to a person.” When he still didn’t drink, I pushed the cup up to his mouth. “We don’t have a very big water heater, so we run out of the hot stuff pretty fast. You might want to shower quickly.”

“Okay.”

I turned and pointed out the necessities. “Soap, shampoo, conditioner, a razor if you need one.” I had to admit, I liked the shadow along his jaw, but he might not.

“Thank you,” he said as he gingerly lifted his shirt over his head.

I turned from him with a gasp. Did six-packs get any sexier? “Um, okay, then. I’ll be downstairs.”

“Lorelei?”

I stopped but didn’t turn around.

After a moment, he said, “Thank you for the toothbrush.”

I smiled. “Yeah, well, you saved my life and all. It’s the least I could do.”

His silent laugh caused a rush of warmth as I closed the door. Then, with thoughts of melted cheese driving me, I hustled downstairs for a sandwich myself. Glitch had a magic touch with grilled cheeses. I could live off them if I had to.

“How is he?” Brooklyn asked.

“I’m not sure.” I took an orange soda out of the fridge and jumped onto a stool beside her. “He got sick.”

Glitch had the gall to look offended. “You mean he ate three of my sandwiches and then just threw them up?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, that sucks.”

“Yeah, for him,” I said with a bit of peevishness. “Not you, sandwich boy.”

“Hey, you want one of these or not?”

“Of course.”

He studied me suspiciously and pointed his spatula. “You’re not going to throw it up, are you?”

“Not likely.”

“Wait,” he said, suddenly smiling, “where’d you find it?”

I reached for my necklace with a smile of my own. “Jared had it. It must have come off when we were in the back of Cameron’s pickup.”

“Oh, right,” Cameron said, “when he was trying to choke the life out of you. That makes perfect sense.”

He sat at the breakfast table in the corner, sipping a Dr Pepper.

I chose to ignore his sarcasm. “Have you eaten yet?” I asked him.

“He doesn’t get another one,” Glitch said, waving his spatula as if it were a magic wand. “Five is the house limit.”

I whistled, impressed. “Well, I’m starving. Pass one over, pretty please.”

Sinking into a grilled and cheesy heaven, I devoured Glitch’s sandwich in less than five minutes along with a few chips and an apple for dessert. Afterwards, I sat chatting with Brooke and sandwich boy, all the while keeping track of how long Jared had been in the shower. And it was an awfully long time, much longer than the hot water would have lasted. I couldn’t keep from looking up toward my room every few seconds.

Brooklyn noticed. “Why don’t you just go check on him?”

“Okay,” I said, needing little encouragement. I jumped from the stool and raced upstairs. The shower was still on, the door still closed.

I knocked lightly. When he didn’t answer, I cracked open the door.

“Jared?”

When he still didn’t answer, my heart leapt in alarm. What if he got sick again? What if he’d passed out? Or worse. What if he disappeared back to wherever it was he came from?

With worry driving me forward, I rushed into the tiny room and pulled back the curtain. Then I gasped and stood frozen a solid minute. Jared stood under the rushing water, naked. And not just a little. He’d lifted one arm and braced it against the wall to rest his head upon. The other hand had grasped the pipe that led to the showerhead. His eyes were closed as ice-cold water sheeted off his shoulders and down his back.

With effort, I stopped my gaze from going any lower. “Jared?”

His grip tightened around the pipe as he pecked at me, and the emotion that poured off him, that glistened in his eyes, was none other than regret. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said, and I couldn’t help the guilt that washed over me. It was my fault. He wouldn’t be here if I could learn to walk and chew gum at the same time. Really? Falling in front of a delivery truck was the best I could do?

I plastered a hand over my eyes and felt blindly for the shower valves, trying desperately to avoid body parts. After turning off the water, I grabbed a towel off the shelf and handed it back without facing him. “Wrap this around your waist.”

He took it from me, and I heard the soft sway of material as he worked to fasten it around his nether region. The fresh scent of soap and shampoo filled the room.

“Okay,” he said.

I turned back and was struck speechless by the sight of him, devilish and handsome. Dark wet locks hung over his forehead, dripping water down his face and onto his chest. The bands around his biceps almost glistened, they were so inklike, so sharp. The width of his torso tapered to a lean, sculpted stomach. He’d managed to cover the most pertinent part of his maleness, which I was terribly thankful for. I took another towel, beckoned him to bow, then draped it over his head to dry his hair.

“I shouldn’t be here,” he repeated, his voice thick with sorrow as I massaged wetness from his hair, and a tightness cinched around my chest. He reached back and took hold of the pipe again, making me realize how low the plumbing was in the shower. I’d always thought it the perfect height. “I don’t know why I shifted and locked on to this plane.” He looked at me from underneath the towel. “I’m risking everything by being here.”

I couldn’t imagine what he must be going through. Was he afraid? I would have been. Absolutely terrified. Whatever he was feeling, he would not go through it alone.

“We can figure this out, Jared. I promise you.”

What did I expect? That he would want to stay here? That he would revel in his circumstances? Rejoice in the fact that fate had discarded him, like a kid abandoned at a truck stop in the middle of the night?

“At least while I was fighting Cameron of Jophiel,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “everything stopped. I could think of nothing beyond survival.”

Fear lurched inside me. “Jared, you can’t fight anymore.” I leaned in to assess his expression under the towel. “Please, promise me.”

He looked at me through slitted eyes. “I would never have hurt you, Lorelei,” he said, his voice laced with a sadness that almost brought me to tears. “In the back of Cameron’s vehicle when I grabbed you, I would never really have done those things.”

I forced a smile past my doubt and continued to dry his hair. “I know.”

“Do you?” His long lashes were spiked with water. “You were so scared, it hurt.” He placed a hand on his chest. “Inside.”

His confession surprised me. “Well, you were pretty convincing.”

He lowered his head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. You were scared too.” I rubbed his head with the towel. His body filled the room, made it seem small in comparison. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

The towel draped over his head gave me courage. I didn’t want him to see me when I asked my next question. “If you had wanted to, could you really have boiled the blood in my veins?”

He froze. After a moment, he straightened and looked down at me. “I don’t know. I had already shifted onto this plane. I don’t know what I can do now, if anything.”

I dropped my arms. “But if you hadn’t shifted, you could have?”

He didn’t want to answer. I could tell by his expression. He worked his jaw before answering. “Yes,” he said at last.

I waited before picking up the corners of the towel and dabbing at the bruises on his face. “Your job must be really interesting.”

“Interesting,” he said with curiousity. His white teeth flashed, the effect nuclear. “That’s a good word for it. Any thoughts on what I might wear?”

I was still wandering around ground zero, struggling to come back to the present. I shifted onto my other foot and cleared my throat. “I found some sweats and a T-shirt in the store,” I said, pointing over my shoulder. “They have our logo on it, but they should fit.”