Markings (17 page)

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

He gave me a bemused glance. “Aren’t I usually nice to you?”

Uh, not lately.
“Well, you come rescue me from the woods, take me for coffee. You let me borrow your old room. Now you’re, you know, putting green gunk on me because I fried my spine.”

He was in the middle of lotioning my foot when his fingers slowed to a stop.

“And I feel like you’ve been avoiding me at the shelter since coffee,” I continued. “Or maybe you were just avoiding everyone, but I sort of felt it was me . . . I felt like you didn’t want me to go with you and Trinity to find Joey because you plain-out didn’t want me around.” The idea that Aaron didn’t want me around was killer. The idea that he didn’t want anything to do with me was what drove Wild Celina to attack him that day.

Aaron set my foot down, shaking his head. “You’re so oblivious sometimes, Lina. I shouldn’t have to explain. It should be clear as day.”

“Uh, well, it’s not.” I couldn’t believe that was his answer. “Enlighten me. What, you—you do this stuff because I’m the Alpha? You do it because it’s your nature to help uncoordinated geeks, or you hate me or something?”

“Oh, yes, I help you because I hate you.” As he picked my foot back up, his hands became suddenly rough. “No, you want to know what I hate? Let me
enlighten
you: I hate that my parents are gone. I hate that the Keftey tear families apart and now the mutts are closing in on us. I hate that it took six months for us to find the Alpha when she was right under our noses—”

“Ouch!” I squeaked as his thumb dug too deep into my foot.

His fingers hesitated. He looked up at me.

“I hate that you’re the Alpha,” he whispered. “I hate it, because it makes me worry about you all the time. I always want to know where you are, what you’re doing. When you’ve lost the ones you love most, few things scare you . . . but when you pull shit like going to Mt. Hood, or jogging in the woods alone, it terrifies me. There are days that I tell Tom and Trinity to not worry about monitoring you because I’m doing it, because I don’t want to trust my own sister to keep you safe. I pulled a twenty-four-hour watch once. Do you know what a psycho I’m becoming because of you? You’re right—when I first met you it was all about getting to know you because you were Alpha, but it changed fast.”

I’d pushed my pillows into the back of the headboard. As Aaron took a breath, collected himself, I replayed everything he’d just said. It sounded like . . . but I couldn’t believe it. Was he really . . . ?

“And you want to know what scares me the most?” he whispered.

I hesitated. “What?”

He slid around to my side, eyes trailing down my arm. He was so close, I could feel the heat his body radiated, smell the strange combo of pine and spice that clung to his clothes.

“When you walk into the office, or get in my car, or sit in my lap in the jeep . . .” His index finger lightly traced the hollows between my knuckles, sending tiny tremors up my arm. “For a split moment, I forget everything about Halia.”

Chapter 19: Feelings

A
aron acted like he’d just confessed to a murder rather than confessed he had feelings for me, feelings that had nothing to do with my being the Alpha.
It’s because of her
, I thought, then suddenly understood.

He didn’t
want
these feelings for me.

My heart flopped. “I’m sorry,” I said, though I really wanted to say: I have feelings for you, too. Your smile makes me smile. You make me feel protected, like nothing in the world can touch me. I’d do anything to make you happy again . . . But since you don’t want me, I guess none of that matters.

He snorted, life returning to his face. “
Sorry.
Why are you sorry?”

“Because I keep bringing her up . . . and because you don’t
want
to like me.”

Silence. I stared outside the window, where the rain had slowed to a light drizzle. Trees outlined the yard, fog rolling in around their trunks and trapping hints of light. Dawn was on its way.

“You’re right,” Aaron said. “I didn’t.”

My heart filled with pins and needles.
Screw this.
I scooted away from him.

“But,” he said, “the only reason I didn’t was because I didn’t want you having power over me. Anytime you really like someone, you let down your defenses. I was letting mine down to you. So, yes, to your earlier question—I was avoiding you, hoping that your hold on me would go away. Stupid idea. The more I stayed away, the more I wanted to see you. It drove me crazy and made me really crabby . . . so I give up.” He glanced at the space between us. “Even sitting just two feet from you drives me nuts.”

“Why?” I had an idea why, and after hearing his reasoning it drove me a little nuts, too. I could relate with the whole not-letting-your-defenses-down thing. Keeping them up ensures your heart’s safety, but once you let them fall . . .

I scooted back towards him. He peered down at me, eyes running over my face, then across my body wrapped up in his blankets. “You’re not helping me.”

“Not helping you what?”

He bit his lip, not answering right away. “Not helping to stop me from doing this.” He leaned over. Both hands on either side of me, he bent his face to me.

I didn’t even try to stop him or think it through before his mouth locked with mine. Our lips brushed, once . . . twice . . . three times. Shivers went up and down my back. The whole world seemed to fade away. I’d never been kissed like this before. Ignoring the fire, I reached my hands to his face, fingers curling in his hair. He tasted of mint. His arms slipped under me, pulling me closer until his front touched mine. Any chills I still had from that green ointment dissolved. He was so
warm.
Addictively warm. I moved to wrap my arms around him, bend closer.

My back locked up. I gasped, then let out a grunt before my lungs sealed up again. The flames raged down my spine, and I let him go.

He pulled away. “Damn it, I’m sorry.” He shifted his hands under my back, readjusting me. “Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” I squeaked then laid there a minute with my eyes closed, trying to breathe. “Just . . . got a little excited. That’s all.”

“You’re not the only one.” He pushed my bangs off my face. Letting out a sigh, he rolled onto his back beside me, flopping an arm over his eyes. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m sorry.”

“Quit saying you’re sorry unless you regret it,” I said. “I don’t, by the way.” My heart still raced, tremors traveling throughout me. He had no idea how many daydreams I’d had of him doing that. The pain pulsed all the way down through my feet, but it was so worth it for that.

“I don’t regret it.” He turned onto his side, head in his hand. “I just regret hurting you, that’s all.”

“Stop it.” I lifted my hand to his face, thumbing his freckles. It could’ve been the adrenaline rush, but I suddenly felt sleepy.

“You’re tired,” he observed, pulling away from me. He sat up. “Get some sleep. Running stunts like yours can wipe you out for hours. I’m going to get up and go—” He cut off when I grabbed the hem of his shirt. “What?”

“Don’t go yet.” I didn’t know about his defenses, but all of mine had shattered. The second our lips locked, a deeper part of me had attached to him. He couldn’t just leave me now.

He blinked at me then slid back onto the bed. “Why not?”

I shook my head. “Stay.”

“Okay.” He weaved his fingers into mine, holding them against his side. Pressing my cheek to his arm, I closed my eyes.
I just kissed Aaron Jamison.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
I just kissed Aaron Jamison.
This had to be one of the best worst days ever. I chanted it in my head; over and over until I drifted off, squeezing his fingers.

•   •   •

Warm light drifted through the window, the brightness waking me. The scent of nachos filled my nose again as I lifted my face from the pillows. I rubbed my eyes.
Whoa, what time is it?
As I tried to prop myself up, I was ecstatic to find I could lift my chest without wincing.

I glanced around. Aaron had left his spot beside me. “Aaron?” I called.

The hallway outside creaked. I laid back down as the door opened. Aaron poked his head in. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he said.

“What time is it?” I mumbled.

He smirked, coming towards me. “Take a guess.”

“Eight in the morning?” Judging by the orange patches glowing across the floor, the sun was low near the mountains.

“Guess again.”

“Seven in the morning?”

He chuckled, sitting on the bed. “Try seven in the evening, Lina.”

“I slept all
day
?”

“Like a log. I came back with donuts this morning and you were out. So I went and grabbed the Cougar from where I’d parked it near your house, gave Trinity a call to tell her I’d found you. I came in at about two to make sure you were still alive. You know, you barely breathe when you sleep? Huh! Another thing for me to worry about. At first glance, you look like you’re
dead
—”

“Shut up.” I elbowed him in the side. He grinned. “I’ve always slept like that. Kat calls it the Vampire Sleep because supposedly I don’t move, either. It used to freak my Mom out, too.” It used to really annoy me when I was younger. Mom would come check on me, panic, and shake me awake because she thought my chest had stopped moving. And then she’d wonder why my teachers complained about me sleeping in class.

“You
don’t
move,” he laughed—a very cute, bubbly laugh that made me shiver. “Hey, are you hungry?”

“Yeah, kind of.” For the amount of calories that crazy run of mine must have burned, I didn’t have much of an appetite.

Aaron stood up. “I’ve got donuts in the kitchen. I’ll go grab you one.”

“Wait,” I said. He stopped at the door. “Do you have your cell phone? I really need to call my mom. She’s probably given herself a heart attack by now.”

“Eh, I would, but we’re out of cell range.” He pulled his phone out. Shaking his head, he slipped it back into his shorts pocket. “And Trinity and I only come down here maybe twice a month, so the house phone’s been out of service for some time. But this I promise you: I’ll take you home as soon as you’re presentable.”

“Speaking of presentable.” I stared down at the blanket I was still substituting for clothes. “I don’t suppose the dryer is working?”

“Another reason we won’t be staying here long.” He grimaced. “No power. I’ve got candles going in the front room. Oh, and if you need a bathroom? You’ll have to go outside.”

Thank God I didn’t have any real problems to address, but I did sort of need to pee. And I was
not
going to let him help me with that, like I was some incapable old woman. “That’s brilliant,” I mumbled. Taking a breath, I edged my legs off the bed. The pain nipped at me, but didn’t sink its fangs in like before. “Um. Can I borrow a sweatshirt or something?”

“Here.” He pulled off the one he was wearing. Again, I glimpsed those hard abs of his as he pulled his t-shirt down.

Jeez, he’s hot
. I pulled his sweatshirt over my head.
And I kissed him
. His heat clung to the inside of the sweatshirt, which I soaked in gladly. It was pale blue and a Volcom emblem had been sewn to the chest. Coming around to my side, he let me use his hand as a brace and I eased onto my feet.

“You got it?” he asked, coming back towards the bed. He offered me a hand, which I used as a brace to slowly ease myself up. His other hand hovered near my side, ready to snatch me should I collapse.

I slowly straightened my spine, unbending my knees. My legs felt like lead. “Ugh. Yeah, I got it.” The sweatshirt slid down around my thighs as I stepped forward. “You have flip-flops? Or did my shoes survive my wild night?”

He itched his nose, trying to hide a smirk. “Let’s just say you did to those shoes in one night what an athlete does to theirs in a few months.” Moving to the closet, he opened the doors and tossed a pair of flip-flops at me. “Those are about five years old, so they should fit your feet.”

“Oh, really?” The old flops were dusty, the red color rubbed away on the sides. The heels up to the toes had deep imprints, telling me Aaron had worn these frequently as a young teen. “Ha, ha, you have big feet.”

He rolled his eyes. Starting for the door again, he muttered, “You know what they say about cats with big paws.”

I snorted really loud over that one.

He watched me as I shuffled towards the door. “You going to survive, pussycat? We have Beaker’s old litter box still in the bathroom.”

“Shut up. I’ve got this,” I said. Walking got easier once I hit the door.

At the end of the hall was the living room. It had a musky smell with traces of lavender. In the candlelight, abstract paintings of lipstick bottles and nail polish spills shined on the walls. A turquoise couch sat against the wall, lacy curtains in the windows. The area rug, no surprise, was leopard-printed.

I peeked in the kitchen. The colorfulness didn’t expand past the living room; it was all white tile and black appliances here. A small TV hung above the counter, a layer of dust across the screen. A plaque above the stove read: A woman’s greatest gift is her children.

The air was cool and damp as I stepped outside to a wrap-around porch with moss-ridden lawn chairs. I imagined Aaron’s parents sitting in those lawn chairs, enjoying a summer evening together. The early-morning fog still lingered. The house was surrounded by trees, the sun falling just past their tops and leaving shadows on the lawn. I took my time moving down the steps, joints stinging in protest. As I stepped onto the grass, my nose filled with the smell of dog.

I froze, instantly sweeping the woods for signs of life. “Aaron!”

He came swiftly. “What is it?”

“Smell,” I said, still scanning.

He let out a low growl. “Go back in the house. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“You’ve got five minutes and then I’m coming to look for you,” I said, heading back to the porch.

“Not in your condition, you aren’t. Stay put,” he ordered, speed-walking across the lawn. As he hit the woods he broke into a jog, disappearing into the trees.

I tapped my foot, waiting impatiently. I didn’t hear a horn or car engine or even running stream water anywhere. This kind of silence unnerved me, but it was good because I knew I’d hear an intruder if it approached. I caught the faint snapping of twigs under Aaron’s feet some yards away.

When his footsteps stopped, I got worried. I thought about calling out to him, but if he was listening for the enemy I didn’t want to disrupt his focus. Another few minutes passed. I still didn’t hear anything.

Ignoring his orders, I left the house, trying to keep his flip-flops from making too much noise. I padded across the lawn, senses turned up on high. I still had remnants of last night’s abilities and things appeared with crystal clarity. I could smell Aaron’s trail in the fog, followed it into the trees.

I found him hunched behind a fungus-covered log, watching something. As I approached, he jerked around then relaxed, shaking his head.
You should’ve stayed in the house
, his glare said. I ignored it, kneeling beside him.

He was looking down a dirt hill into a cluster of houses. There were only four, their newer design more suited for the suburbs than the middle of nowhere. They’d been completely vandalized.

“What happened here?” I whispered.

Aaron bit his lip, running a hand through his hair. “A very wealthy Miew named Clark Miller lived here. When the Iew Keftey started rising to dominancy, he had homes built for the rest of his family, to hide and protect them. But no one can hide from the Keftey forever.” Aaron stood up, hands in his pockets. “Trinity told me the Miller family had been killed a few weeks ago. Turns out isolation just made them more vulnerable. We told them to go to Home Base a long time ago but they refused. They didn’t associate much with the rest of the clan.”

He stepped out from behind the log, edging down the hill. “I’m going to go have a quick look around. It’s odd that the Keftey smell is still lingering.”

“I’m going with you,” I said, knowing I didn’t want to be sitting up on the hill alone.

“I don’t think you want to see what’s down there, Lina.”

I made a face. “If I’m going to be Alpha, don’t I get to make the rules?”

“Hah, not while I’m still standing.”

“You know I’ll just come down anyway once you’ve gone.”

He rolled his eyes, extending a hand to me. I stood up and took it. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?” he muttered, squeezing my fingers extra tight.

“I don’t want you down here by yourself.” I might not be able to do much, but I’d damn well try if something shot out at us.

The gully felt like a ghost town. Every window of every house had been smashed out, fragments of glass shining in the bits of sunset that made it down here. It looked like a giant had swept its hand out and thrown outdoor furniture across the ground, leaving chair legs and bent tables in its wake. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of charred wood, staring at the distorted porches of two houses. They’d been set on fire.

I stared at the sight of red streaks down a set of porch stairs that hadn’t been charred. Aaron followed my gaze. “I said you wouldn’t like it down here,” he said.

Blood from someone being dragged down the stairs. It could’ve been a man, or a woman, or even a child. Either way, I had few doubts on one thing: a Miew had died here. I was walking on ground where someone had died.

Aaron let out a sigh. “Come on. Let’s go back to the house.” He turned around. “I don’t want you to see any more of—”

“See what?” I asked. He’d cut off, staring at the side of the first house we’d passed. I followed his gaze, letting out a gasp.

There was graffiti on the panels of the first house. The letters had been done in long strokes of red spray, not skillfully, but clear enough to read.

DEATH TO THEIR QUEEN
DIE YOUNG CELINE

“Lina, don’t. Stop!” Aaron was trying to hold me back as I ripped out of his grasp. I was striding towards the wall when he grabbed my shoulder. I wheeled around and hissed at him—a feline hiss, like what I expelled the day Tom startled me at the high school.

Aaron let go, stepping back.

I covered my mouth for a second, surprised. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to.”