Fade (26 page)

“Please, stay,” Chelle said, glancing up at me. “I don’t want to be alone right now, and my parents are … .” She swallowed hard, her bottom lip quivering.

“Of course.” I dropped back into my seat, knowing what she couldn’t say. They were planning Dani’s funeral.

I wanted to cry.

We stayed in the little glass dining room for an hour, not saying much. We sat together, silently sharing the grief lapping at us. Being there with Chelle was more restful than I’d imagined it would be, and I understood a little better why everyone kept coming to my door right after Mom died. They’d lost someone too. A coworker, a friend, or the woman they chatted with at the mailbox. I felt a little bad I didn’t understand that before. I’d been so wrapped up in my own loss, I hadn’t appreciated theirs. They had been nothing more than one more item on my to-do list. One more thing I had to accomplish before I could put down the burden, and mourn.

The doorbell rang, the chime echoing through the room.

Chelle started to rise, and I urged her back into her seat.

“I’ll get it for you,” I said and made my way back through the kitchen and living room. The riot of bright, happy colors made the house seem too cheerful. Not at all the kind of place I’d think of when I wanted to grieve. I could understand Chelle holing up in the dining room. Even with the bright light filtering in from outside, the room appeared more subdued than the rest of the house.

I pulled open the door, my mind not on the task, and froze immediately as I glanced up into the malevolent eyes of Ronan.

He flicked his cruel gaze down my body, and my heart jumped. I felt as violated as I had the first time he’d cast his eyes in my direction.

“Is Beth here?”

I hated the way he spoke. The words were too perfectly formed. They didn’t bleed into one another, but were each their own distinct sound. And they were all the more creepy because of it. Not pleasant like you’d expect perfect speech patterns to be, but inhuman. Like he hadn’t learned to talk the way the rest of us had.

“She’s sleeping,” I said, suddenly, intensely grateful Beth had been sedated. I don’t think I could have stomached letting him in the house.

“May I wait for her?” His eyes never stopped roaming over me and never lost that flat, cruel look.

Bile burned up my throat. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Chelle wants to be alone right now.” I doubted she’d be angry with me for that lie.

“Does she?” He knew I lied.

Dace surged to awareness in my head when I shivered.
Don’t even think about it!
I yelled at him, scared he was going to rage in there like last time. I couldn’t handle a repeat of that. I really, truly could not.

It’s fine
, he murmured, lying.

I felt his tightly controlled anger. He did
not
trust Ronan. And Ronan did
not
like him.

Ronan curled his lip contemptuously, his eyes flatter and less human than before. I got the impression he knew Dace had access to my mind. Why did he hate Dace so much?

I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself, not sure I wanted to know the answer to that question.

“I’ll tell her you stopped by,” I mumbled.

He stared at me for a long time, his eyes roving back and forth across my face before he nodded. “Of course.” His gaze swept down my body one final time before he turned and stalked down the steps.

I hurried back into the house, closing the door behind me. My hands shook as I sank to the floor, my back against the wall. Ronan scared me. Terrified me, actually. The way he looked at me with that cruel streak plainly evident, like he was trying to decide what to do with me, like maybe he
knew
what to do with me, sent shards of ice through my heart.

Are you okay?
Dace asked as I huddled against the wall, shaking.

I’m fine
.

He saw through the lie.
What about him scares you?

I thought about the question for a minute. Everything about Ronan scared me. The way he looked. The way he spoke. The way he moved. The way he could worm his way inside of my thoughts and rifle through my memories. The way he seemed to enjoy how angry that made Dace. The way I felt like he played a part in whatever was happening to us.

Have you ever seen
Silence of the Lambs
?
I asked Dace.

He pilfered through my memories, looking for the connection I focused on. I gritted my teeth, aggravated he didn’t ask for permission, and then sighed and called what I meant to the forefront of my mind.

I showed him the memory of Hannibal Lecter I referred to, that first meeting between him and Clarice where he’d walked toward the camera after saying “closer” with that creepy look on his face. That scene terrified me more than any other part of that movie. The expression on his face contained no humanity. No curiosity. No anger. No amusement. It was like he flipped a switch and shut off all normal human emotion as he stepped forward to take a look at her badge.

Dace pulled another memory from that movie to the forefront of my mind. Hannibal stood behind the bars of his cage and told Clarice he’d eaten the liver of a census taker. That same inhumane, sadistic look had been in his eyes then, too. I could tell how exciting Hannibal found the atrocity just by looking at the expression on his face. Anthony Hopkins played his part to perfection.

Enough
, I shivered, feeling foolish that the look still scared me as much as it did. And then Ronan’s soulless gaze loomed in my mind again, and I thought maybe I wasn’t so foolish after all. The expression on his face could have been a mirror image of Hannibal’s. Only the unfeeling mask seemed even more natural on Ronan than it did on Anthony Hopkins.

I shivered again.

Dace processed this new information in silence, giving no hint what he thought about it, if he agreed, or if he thought I was completely irrational. I didn’t mind. His presence, even if silent and maddening, soothed me.

Within a matter of moments, I felt a lot calmer. That had everything to do with Dace’s presence. I didn’t feel alone. No, I
wasn’t
alone. And that helped me find the strength to climb back to my feet and head toward the little glass room.

I need to talk to Chelle
, Dace said as I made my way through the kitchen.
Gage and I will be there soon. Will you stay?
He asked as if he wasn’t sure what my answer would be. He should have known that I couldn’t refuse him much of anything.

I’ll stay
, I promised.

He didn’t respond, and the connection between us severed.

I scowled as I stepped through the doorway into the glass room.

Chelle glanced up at me, and her eyes widened.

“Ronan came by,” I muttered, dropping into my chair. “And Dace is coming over to speak with you.” My scowl deepened when I said his name; Chelle’s eyes widened further. “Sorry,” I said. “He drives me insane.”

She nodded and gave me a half smile, but didn’t say anything.

“Does Gage ever speak to you without speaking?” I asked. Could Nephilim read minds, or was that just me and Dace?

“Yes, but not in the way you mean.”

“Oh.” I frowned. “Dace does it all the time. He pops in whenever he wants, but he won’t tell me how to do the same. He’s allowed in, but I’m not.” I rolled my eyes, irritated.

“He’s trying to make things easier for you,” she said.

“Make things easier for me?” I didn’t see how that could be possible. Being shut out made things harder. A lot harder mostly. I liked having him in my head, I wasn’t going to deny that, but like I’d said a thousand times, it wasn’t fair that he wouldn’t give me the same thing in return.

Dace’s father hadn’t been able to accept who Dace was, and Dace struggled as a result. I got that; I did. But he couldn’t keep punishing me for his father’s hang-ups. Maybe I hadn’t mastered the ability to instantly accept everything thrown my way without feeling a little confusion, but did Dace do any better than me? No. He wouldn’t even entertain the possibility that the wolf and I had been mated before, or that the wolf didn’t want to hurt me.

He flat out refused to deal with either possibility. Meanwhile, my entire life had stopped making sense. In a matter of weeks, everything changed. I could only handle so much, but that didn’t feel good enough. Not for Dace.

And the really crappy part? His hesitation made me question everything. If he couldn’t accept me or trust me enough to let me in, what the hell was I even trying to do here? I might have been scared and confused, but I didn’t try to push him away because of it. And I’d had about enough of him doing it to me.

Chelle pursed her lips. “You’re struggling with all of this, aren’t you?”

“A little bit,” I said. Trying to grieve, learning that some unseen monster lurked in the shadows and that I fit into a world completely different than I’d always known, finding Dace, trying to get accustomed to a new town … . Who wouldn’t struggle to deal with all of that?

“Imagine how much harder things would be if you had access to every thought that crossed his mind, or felt every emotion he felt.” Her eyes met mine. “He overwhelmed you once. He’s trying to keep from hurting you again.”

“I get that; I do. But I never know what he’s thinking or feeling, and that frustrates the ever-living crap out of me. He can prowl around in here”—I tapped my temple with a finger—”anytime he wants, and pick out whatever it is he wants to know, while I stumble along, completely clueless. He tells me, quite literally, next to nothing. He just asked me all of these questions and prowled through my memories, and then didn’t even tell me why he asked or what he thought about my answers. He does that all the time.”

Chelle frowned, her eyes narrowing. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Ha! She did understand. “It’s not,” I said. “I’m not asking for every thought that crosses his mind. But the important stuff? Being told that much without having to fight for it would be nice.”

“And if the other stuff bleeds through?”

“Then I guess I know,” I said. “I don’t think I have time to take it one step at a time,” I explained when she arched a brow. “I feel I’m missing these big pieces and that if I don’t find them, things are going to get bad soon. I need to be ready for that, but it’s like I only have the outer edges of the puzzle. Actually,” I grimaced, “it’s more like only having the corner pieces. Kind of makes it hard to figure out where I fit.”

“Have you told him that?” she asked.

“No.” I bit my lip. “He knows what I’m thinking so I didn’t see the point—”

She shook her head. “It’s not the same. He’s lived with this other presence in his mind his entire life. He has no control over it. I imagine he doesn’t want you to feel the same way. He may be in there, looking around, but unless he finds something serious, he won’t do anything with what he sees until you talk to him about how you feel. He’s trying to give you privacy the best way he knows how.”

“Maybe,” I said. I guess I could see how that might be true, but this wasn’t a simple matter of privacy. More than my privacy was at stake here. My life. His. How we were connected, and why. What that meant for us. I needed him to let me in, and he wouldn’t.

How could I keep fighting if he didn’t?

I couldn’t be that girl. The one who sat back and let someone else call the shots or decide what was best for her. Everything else might have been changing, but I refused to become that girl just because things were hard right now. I hurt, but somewhere inside, the old me still existed. I had the same wants, needs, and desires I’d always had. And being told what I could or couldn’t know didn’t sit right with me. It never would.

I only wished I knew what that meant for me and Dace.

Dace didn’t come blazing into my head when he arrived, but a new tension licked at the air, something different than the sense of grief permeating the room. All the muscles I hadn’t known were tight relaxed at the same time, and a sense of rightness that had been missing the last few days flooded through me.

I glanced up to see Chelle react the same way. Her shoulders slumped forward. Her body relaxed a little. I suddenly understood how she could say, without knowing me, that Dace would help me. I was as alert to his presence, as soothed by it, as she was by her very own descendant angel.