Silver (15 page)

When we kiss, the warmth that fills me isn't an all-consuming fire. The spiritual bond and strong physical connection are there, but my heart flutters just a bit, and there's something between us that doesn't feel like magic.

Something a little bit real.

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After only four hours of sleep, even a triple-shot latte isn't enough to make me feel halfway human. I order a second drink from Kimmy and find a table on the patio of Magic Beans, still trying to manufacture the energy to get to the ranch.

A flash of honey highlights is the first thing that draws my eye to where Haley walks across the parking lot, her blue apron in hand. She doesn't see me, but it's too late to get up without her noticing. She has buds in her ears, and her head bobs along with whatever song is cued up. She's almost to the sidewalk when she finally sees me. She raises her hand partway and wiggles her fingers in a tentative wave.

I can't decide whether to be relieved or pissed. I mean, she did abandon me at a time when I really could have used a best friend, leaving me alone at a party teeming with dark creatures, at least some of whom wanted me dead. Okay, so she didn't know about that part. Still, she knew I'd just been through an ordeal. And she accused me of lusting after her boyfriend. Okay, that part might have been a little justified. But thinking I lusted after Jonah Timken? Unforgiveable.

Her smile doesn't reach her eyes as she takes the chair next to me. She lets go of the apron just long enough to pull the buds from her ears. “I'm sorry,” she says, her hands twisting the apron in her lap.

I can't let her off that easy. So I wait.

“I know I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions last night. Austin explained everything, and … ”

Everything? Just how much of everything did Austin mention?

“I'm sorry,” she says again. “It's just, Austin's different. I
really
like him. A lot. And when you and Austin are together, the way you joke around, I don't know. I guess I feel a little invisible sometimes.”

I choke on my latte. Literally. I cough and sputter for what feels like a minute before I can talk. “I don't understand.”

Haley shrugs. “I'm jealous?”

“Okay,” I say, drawing out the two syllables. “Since when have you ever had a reason to be jealous of me?”

“I know I shouldn't be. And I totally trust you. I do. It's just hard sometimes, keeping up with you. You're so smart, without ever having to study. And you act like you don't know you're beautiful, but you are. You just send off this vibe that keeps guys at a distance. But I'm really happy about you and Blake. And now, with Austin, it's just weirder than I expected, you know?”

Crazy goddesses I can almost deal with. Bloodthirsty warriors? Learning. But I can't even comprehend a world where Haley Marvell is jealous of me.

I wait for the teasing laughter, for the final nail to sink into the center of my heart, for a hole to open up in the earth and send me into the fiery pits of hell. I stare at the ground for what seems like minutes. When I finally look back up, Haley's eyes are big. Her apron is bunched into a tightly wound ball.

“Haley, you're the most beautiful girl in this town. You can't walk two feet without getting asked out. And talk about smart. You're the one who always reads classic literature and studies ancient cultures.
For fun
, I might add.”

“So I've dated a lot. It's not like it ever turns into anything serious. And I read because I don't have a TV or computer in my room. What else am I going to do? Hang out with my mom? The one time I tried to read a Harlequin, she found it. Ever been to a book burning? It's horrifying on so many levels.” She lets go of the apron and sets her hands on the table. “And look at you. If it weren't for your body language, which is very ice queen, you'd have guys crawling all over you.”

I rub the flower charm. Haley had her own theory—I am just unapproachable. It's not too far from the truth.

“Austin told me that you and Blake had some kind of fight and then Jonah tried to take advantage of the situation. I mean, we knew Jonah was a creep, right? At least he was the only one to get hurt when those dogs came.”

I remember my bloody jacket pressed against Austin's shoulder and the stains on my shirt. “What about Austin? He isn't hurt?”

“No, he's fine. You didn't know?”

“It all happened so fast.” I don't sound convincing to my own ears. I saw the blood. Austin had been hurt.

“So what about you?” Haley asks. “Are you and Blake okay?”

“I guess so.”

“So is he like your boyfriend now?”

For once, I don't deny it. Last night Blake and I seemed to have come to some kind of understanding. Too bad I'm not sure exactly what that understanding is. I try to ignore the twinge in my stomach. I should know better than to let myself hope when it comes to Blake Williams.

“What about Austin?”

Haley squeals, her signature smile back. “Amazing! Last night was the best night of my entire life.” She explains that Austin showed up outside her bedroom window after midnight. He took her to the beach, where they shared a bottle of wine under the stars until almost dawn. Haley smiles again, practically bouncing in her seat. “I think I really like him.” She glances at her phone. “Shoot! I have to work. So we're good?”

I nod. I don't know how long I sit, not moving, long after Haley has gone into the shop.

By the time I get to Bridle Oaks, I can't feel any trace of caffeine in my system. The two lattes only make me feel bloated. I grab my brush box and slip into Dart's stall. Sundays are normally my favorite, since I don't have to give any lessons and can focus on Dart. I pick up a curry comb and rub Dart's neck in large circles. He leans into the pressure, enjoying the gentle massage. I make patterns in his coat, big swooping loops that crisscross each other as I let my mind go blank for a blissful ten minutes.

I'm shaken from my peace when Dart startles. His muscles tense as he lifts his head, his ears pricked forward. He snorts and paws the ground with his hoof.

I pull the comb away and pat his neck. “Easy, boy.” He paws the ground again and sidesteps closer to the wall.

My own body tenses when I hear the approaching voice. “Honestly, Parker. I don't know why you bother with prey animals.”

“Jonah, you are so bad!” Parker Winslow laughs as they stop in front of Dart's stall. “Look at this one. He's my newest acquisition.”

I step to the side, making myself visible to Parker and Jonah. “Excuse me. Last time I checked, Dart was still my horse.”

Parker blinks but otherwise appears nonplussed. It's Jonah's face that changes. His slightly bored expression transforms into a wide smile.
The better to eat you with, my dear.
He leans forward on crutches.

I stand up taller and lift my chin, meeting Jonah's gaze head-on. Even though my legs tremble underneath me, I don't back down. But I don't conjure any flaming balls of fire either. I'm trapped in a void of indecision, vacillating between fight and flight.

Dart snorts and stomps the ground again.

“I think I'll name him Ulysses,” Parker says. If she's aware of the tension that surrounds us, she ignores it.

Jonah's eyes water with the effort it takes to keep looking at me, his creepy smile widening until I can count all of his teeth.

“Come on.” Parker is already bored with this. “You still haven't seen Tristan.”

Jonah leans back down on his crutches and winks at me before following Parker down the aisle.

It takes at least a minute before Dart relaxes again. I'm not so resilient. I sag against the wall and shake for another ten minutes. I don't leave the stall for thirty, and only when I'm certain that Jonah and Parker are no longer in the vicinity.

I resist the urge to call Blake. Jonah Timken is a fact of my new life. And he can't hurt me now. It's too soon for him to try something. At least that's what I tell myself.

I find Marcy in the tackroom. The smell of seasoned leather hangs in the air around us.

“What's the deal with Parker Winslow?”

“She loves Dart!” Marcy is full of enthusiasm.

“She's serious about buying him?”

“I'm almost certain we'll have a check when her dad gets back in town next week.”

“Before Del Mar?” I can't keep the disappointment from slipping out.

“The whole point of going to the show was to get him seen by prospective buyers. It's not like it matters now.”

The show would be the culmination of two years of training. It was never just about finding a buyer. It was Dart's coming out.

“Maybe I don't want to sell him.” I say it before I can think not to.

Marcy sets down her pen. “What?”

“I don't want to sell him.” I believe it this time.

“It's a lot of money.”

“It's not about money.”

Marcy's eyes widen. It always comes down to money for her.

Before she can respond, there's a brilliant flash of light, so bright I have to close my eyes. A shrill scream carries through the air. Not a human scream—a screeching whinny that communicates an animal's fear and pain on a level that language never could.

I run out of Marcy's office and into the barn aisle. All the horses are reacting, stomping and snorting as the high-pitched crying continues. The screams are so loud they seem to be all around, making it impossible to pinpoint exactly where they're coming from. Then, just as suddenly as it started, the screaming stops. The silence that follows is terrifying.

I run faster, glancing into the stalls as I go by. I smell the blood before I get to Dart's stall, taste the salty tang in the air. I duck under the stall guard before I can bring myself to look.

Dart is lying on his side, eyes wild. He struggles to keep his nose raised, just above the puddle of dark blood that pools around his head. He's trying to breathe, but he's getting weaker by the second, and his nose keeps falling back into the puddle. He coughs as he inhales the liquid. He'll soon drown in his own blood.

I fight a wave of dizziness and kneel beside him, holding his nose in my hands and moving beneath him until his head rests in my lap.

I have to force myself to look at his injuries. He might not live long enough to drown after all. Two deep gashes run along his neck, open and gaping so that muscle and bone are exposed beneath the skin. The majority of the blood pools below his throat, which has been mangled and sliced so deeply there's nothing but chunks of bloody meat hanging in shreds under his chin. It's a wonder he can breathe at all. He thrashes his head in my hands, still looking for the monster that attacked him.

Marcy stands in front of the stall guard. “Did you see it?”

“It?”

“The mountain lion,” Marcy says.

I shake my head. Of course there was no mountain lion.

“I'll call Dr. Snow.” Marcy runs back down the barn aisle.

I stroke Dart's cheek, speaking in a low whisper. He lays his head down in my lap. Whether he is too weak to fight or calmed by my presence, I'm grateful for the peace that settles in his eyes just before they roll back into his head. There's nothing left to do but reassure him the monster is gone.

The monster. The monster with the silver eyes and the sharp knife.

I don't know how long I sit there, whispering to Dart's lifeless form, but my jeans are soaked through with blood and my leg is asleep when I hear Austin's soft voice outside the stall. “Brianna?”

I don't answer. Austin climbs under the stall guard and holds out his hand. “Come on.”

I shake my head. I can't leave Dart, not like this. And Austin shouldn't be here with Jonah on the loose.

Austin moves closer. “There's nothing you can do at the moment.”

I know he's right, but I hesitate. “The vet's on her way.” It's a stupid statement. There's nothing for the vet to do. But I'm still holding on to an irrational hope, and I'm not letting go. It's like none of it will be real until the vet makes an official pronouncement.

Austin steps closer. “You can't help like that.” He holds out a hand. “We should get you cleaned up before the vet gets here.”

I don't know why this sentence makes sense to me, but it does. I take his hand and let him help me up. We move some shavings under Dart's head, covering the pool of blood. Austin guides me out of the stall to a wash rack at the end of the barn. He fills a bucket with water and shampoo and helps me clean my arms and face. My jeans are black with blood. I run the hose over them, watching as swirls of dark liquid slip down the drain.

Neither one of us says anything until I turn off the hose.

“Who did this?” Austin asks. Not what. Who.

“Jonah.” When I say his name, it doesn't matter that I'm wearing the bracelet. My power starts to simmer, flowing through my veins and rising to the surface. The heat that fills me is welcome, reassuring. I'm not helpless. Far from it.

Austin meets my gaze. “He should pay for this.”

“He will.”

It's an understatement. Forget spontaneous combustion. Jonah's death will be slow and painful.

Austin's lips curve into a crooked smile.

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Austin just stands there smiling. I can't let it go. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“Like what?” Austin steps toward me, not stopping until he is too close for polite conversation. His crooked grin doesn't falter.

“Like that. Stop it.” I wrap my arms around my waist, hugging myself.

“I'm sorry about the horse,” he says. “But I think you're right to go after Jonah. He deserves it after what he did. They all do.”

“All?”

So Austin knows. I don't know why I didn't realize this sooner. I mean, it's not like he didn't see Jonah with his own eyes when he attacked us last night. But how does he fit into all this?

“They won't stop until you're dead.” He reaches out and takes my hand, pulling me the short distance to him. I'm too drained to do anything other than fall against his shoulder. “It's okay,” he whispers. “We'll take care of it.”

We
.
I nod, glad that I am not alone in this, relieved to have someone else who understands exactly what kind of monster Jonah is, someone who might be on my side.

He tilts his head until his lips are so close to my skin they're nearly touching. “For God's sake, Brianna, let me take you home.” There's no ambiguity in his meaning as he whispers in my ear.

The same ear that's covered with dried blood.

I push him away. “I need to go.” I back up a step, putting more distance between us.

He follows, closing the gap. I hold up my hand. “Please. I need to be alone.”

Austin finally stops, his body tense. There's a flash of darkness in his eyes, but it disappears so quickly, I question whether it was ever really there. “You shouldn't be alone,” he says. “It's not safe. I tried to find you last night. I went by Joe's as soon as I got released from the hospital, but you were already gone. And then you weren't at home.”

“You went to my house?” Since when does Austin even know where I live?

“I didn't wake up your parents or anything. You're okay?”

Of course I'm not okay. “I guess I lived,” I finally answer.

“I was hoping you might.” He lifts his arm to rub the back of his neck, and I realize there's not even a bandage where he was cut. Not even a
cut
where he was cut.

“What about you? Your arm? Your shoulder?”

“I'm fine. He can't hurt me.”

I remember the blood that soaked through to my jacket. And Jonah's knife looked like it could do a lot of damage. “It looked pretty bad.”

“It looked worse than it was.”

I stare hard at him, searching for any signs of injury. He pulls down the collar of his shirt so I can see his shoulder. “See? No harm done.”

I back up another step.

His eyes do darken now. Not a fleeting thing at all; a shadow that grows. “Why are you so skittish? Is it Blake?”

I'm not sure how to answer that. It's Blake. It's Haley. It's the fact that his shoulder doesn't have a scratch. I have no idea who Austin even is, let alone what he has to do with the Sons of Killian.

Austin laughs. “You're not exactly good for him, are you? Perhaps it's time for you to end it once and for all. You were never meant for him, not in the way you want to think.”

“You have no idea what I think.”

Austin's eyes are nearly black. Except for the shining bits of gold. I can't stop staring at them. But I have to get back to Dart.

“The vet will be here. I need to go.”

Austin grabs my arm, holding me. “Stay.”

The single word stops me in my tracks. I'm frozen in place, staring into the abyss of his eyes. The pull is strong, and I feel myself leaning toward him. It's hard to remember why I shouldn't.

“Stay with me.” His voice is a soft whisper this time, but I hear it as though he's shouted it. More so. His voice resonates inside me like a deep bass. I try to fight it, though I'm not sure why I bother. It would be so much easier to fall into his arms. Into him. I take a tentative step closer.

He smiles and I stop. Everything's fuzzy, but I know something's wrong. He shouldn't be smiling.

Why not? There's just him and me and this magnetic pull, like he's the sun and I'm circling in his orbit.

I hear a whinny in the distance. I can barely make it out, but it's there, like a far-off dream. And then I remember: Dart. Jonah. Blood. So much blood.

I spin away from Austin and run.

I run as fast as I can back to the stall. Dart still lies on the ground, unmoving. I throw myself on his chest and cry, finally letting it out. I don't know how long I lie there before Austin climbs in behind me.

“You really love the horse?”

What kind of question is that? I want to yell at him, but I'm too exhausted to do anything but bury my head in Dart's mane.

Austin kneels beside me and strokes Dart's bloody neck. “I might be able to help.”

“You can't.”

“You shouldn't doubt me.” His voice is soft, but there's no mistaking the warning in it.

I instinctively move away from him.

Austin shakes his head. “My kingdom for a horse.”

I choke on a sob.

He smooths his hand along the largest cut. “
Draiocht leasaigh
,” he says quietly.

Dart's right hind leg kicks out involuntarily. I jump back.

Austin's hand continues its path along the jagged cut. “
Draiocht leasaigh
,” he repeats. When he removes his hand, the cut is gone, the skin perfect. The only thing that remains is the dried blood that still clings to Dart's fur.

I don't move. Austin brings his hands to the mangled area below Dart's throat. “
Draiocht leasaigh
,” he says again. Dart's eyes open and his head lifts off the ground with a snort. Austin backs away, waiting as Dart gets his legs underneath him and rises to his feet.

“My God.” I mouth, more than say, the words. Dart shakes out his mane, which is still clotted in dried blood.

Austin is some kind of healer? But he did more than heal. Dart was
dead
.

“What are you?”

Austin leans back against the wall, ignoring my question. “I left a small wound for the vet to stitch up. He should be fine now. He won't even remember the attack.”

I throw my arms around Dart's neck, but it's not until he nuzzles my pockets in search of treats that I really believe he's going to be okay. “Thank you,” I murmur.

“Let's just say you owe me one.”

I don't have to see Austin's face to know he is smiling.