Stolen (23 page)

He’s been through enough.

And she realized…she really
kinda
felt that way. The Cayne she’d found in Memphis—the one who didn’t understand crosswalks or know how to drive a car. The one whose aura was so bright with pain. Yes…he’d done things that maybe couldn’t be forgiven, couldn’t be justified, but from what she could recall of Sunday school, everyone deserved forgiveness.

It wasn’t such a leap to get from there to the bubble of missing him inside her chest.

When she finally cast her eyes onto his shadowed face, she saw his throat working. She caught a glimpse of his aura—involuntary—and the use of her ability brought a fresh swell of pain inside her head. She wobbled, and Cayne caught her arm.

Her free hand grabbed his free arm, and together, they asked each other, “Are you okay?”

She nodded.

Cayne’s face hardened in that way that guys’ did when they weren’t. She tried to imagine what he was feeling. He hadn’t had a good experience here, but for it to just be gone…

What did it mean?

Her hands found his, and they were standing together at the base of the dizzying hills, just looking at each other in the moonlight.

She wanted to say a lot of things. To catch up. His hands felt so good in hers. She wanted to know if it could ever work…with them. But it wasn’t the right time for that.

She squeezed his fingers, gently. “You didn’t know about this, did you?”

His mouth tightened. “It wasn’t gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was here…some years after. It wasn’t gone. I was born in 1812, lived here until...” He shook his head—hard. “It wasn’t gone.”

His hands were warm and thick and hard in hers. She could feel his inhalations, the subtle swaying of his body. The briny scent of dirt and grass was cold inside her nose, the smell of Scotland heightening the moment. Making her heart pound.

“What does that mean?”

He shook his head. Loosening his grip on her hands, he turned to look up at the huge round peaks that remained. “Something is wrong.”

“That seems like an understatement,” she said sympathetically.

“I mean…something’s wrong…
with me
.”

Her fingers, still in his, caressed his cool skin. “Nothing is wrong with you.”

He pressed his lips flat. “I was the first Nephilim born in almost 2,000 years.”

That seemed important, but Julia didn’t know why. “Is that bad?”

“Demons, angels, Nephilim,
Stained
—Chosen. They all used to fight over Earth. Or so I’ve been told. I should mention that all my information comes from Samyaza and other Nephilim, so it’s suspect. But I was told that about 2,200 years ago a barrier was placed around earth. I’ve heard it was heaven, hell… Samyaza claimed he made it himself. It kept demons out, and angels, too. They’re able to sneak in from time to time. Demons especially, and Samyaza was obsessed with finding them, finding out what they were doing.” Cayne shrugged. “Anyway, demons could still get through, but rarely, and none of them fathered a child until me.”

He looked at her like this was the most shocking news he could have delivered, but Julia still didn’t get it. “I’m sorry, but…I don’t get it.”

There was a pause, and then Cayne actually smiled a bit. “Maybe it doesn’t mean anything.”

“But what if it did? What would it mean?”

He shrugged, reticent and wary. She moved to wrap her arms around him without even thinking.

She was a surprised when he didn’t resist. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and…well, held her. She opened her Sight, getting reacquainted with him, touching him in places that hurt. On a whim, she siphoned off some of his pain, surprised at how dense it was.

He pulled away, looking down at her with his green eyes, grayish in the dark. “You didn’t have to do that,” he whispered.

“I know.” Her eyes watered, and she couldn’t tell if it was the stinging sensation in her chest—desire mixed with confusion—or the pain of her headache, which had reached a peak when she took on his pain and was now making her hands tremble. “I know I didn’t have to do it, but I wanted to.” She reached up, placing her hands gently on his chest. “Cayne, I…I’m not sure I can make myself stop caring about you.”

“Maybe you’re not trying hard enough.”

“That may have to wait,” she joked, “until I don’t have such a terrible headache.”

His finger traced down her cheek. “When did this begin?”

“Around the time we got to that train depot. It got worse when we got to Scotland.”

“You didn’t mention it.”

“I know.” She looked down, embarrassed.

His hand caressed her cheek. “I’m sorry, Julia. So sorry. For everything. I regret not being more forthcoming,” he mumbled, his voice thick and heavy, his eyes holding hers.

“I’m sorry you can’t revisit
Killin
, and that all this…all this shit has to be so complicated. I wish we were just normal. Like, a high school couple.”

“A couple,” he said, deadpan.

Looking at his face, she couldn’t tell how he felt. She stepped back instinctively, distancing herself. “Did you really…you know… Like me? I mean, was any of it real? Or was Memphis and…everything just some kind of, I don’t know…vacation, until you remembered. And after that maybe you couldn’t leave because you knew I’d be by myself.”

She swallowed against a teary feeling in her throat and blinked because her pulse was thrumming in her eyes.

She felt his hand close over hers. “I wish you didn’t feel the need to ask. But…yes. I think that you should know…I’ve cared about you very much. Too much,” he murmured, reaching up to stroke her cheek with the back of his fist.

Julia closed her eyes, savoring the precious words.

Then she drew him close, so close she could almost hear his heartbeat, so close she could smell the sweetness of his breath and feel his trembling. She twined her arms around him and he bowed his head, his warm lips resting in her hair.

She rose on her toes and kissed his scruffy jaw, feathering kisses toward his ear. When she neared there, she whispered, “You’re forgiven.”

It was impossible to say who initiated the kiss. But it was frenzied. Hungry. A kiss turned into kisses, and she couldn’t breathe. Her head roared with pain but her heart didn’t care.

“Cayne.
Cayne
. I missed you.”

And she knew how much he’d missed her, too, because when he finally pulled away, it was to bury his face in the curtain of her hair. For the longest time they stood there, clinging to each other under the mighty shadow of the Highlands.

Until finally he whispered, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, and kissed his chin.

They held hands on the way back to the cab, and when they reached the overgrown path, Cayne leaned forward and opened the door for her. Her body felt shaky—horrible and achy, like she was getting the worst virus she’d ever had. But she managed to croak, “No more lies.”

“Never,” he promised.

They climbed inside, and his hand found hers again, squeezing lightly, as if to say
I’m sorry.
 

“Strange thing, it is,” the cabbie said.

“Strange indeed,” Cayne said.

He passed the man a few more bills, and turned to Julia. His mouth was half open, and a peek at his aura revealed uncertainty.

“This is good,” she would later remember telling him. She snuggled up against his side and let his stroking fingers lull her into sleep.

Chapter 21

It was wrong. Of that he felt positive and just as positive that he would, again, do what was wrong. The justification: this time, he was doing it for Julia—who, to his eternal disbelief, genuinely seemed to want him.

For the duration of their drive back into Glasgow, he allowed his eyes to close, his nose to find her sweet scent, his hands to touch her smooth, smooth skin… His chest to tighten like his heart was in a fist…but it let him go, and the feeling was one of release. He wondered if this was happiness. Decided that it was.

He stroked her forehead, and couldn’t resist pressing his lips against her cheek, her mouth.

And it was when he kissed her mouth that he noticed it: the heat of her—unnatural. Alarming.

As the driver turned the streets near their hostel, his worry grew. He shook her, and she didn’t rouse. The cab rolled to a stop and he pressed a wad of bills into the driver’s hand. Cradling her close, he pushed out of the car, stepped up a curb, and flew across the sidewalk, where he mentally ordered a college-aged girl to hold the door open. He used his persuasion to prompt the woman at the front desk to open Julia’s room.

It was warm inside—too warm for her. Moving quickly, he laid her on the bed and glanced around, searching for a thermostat. Not seeing one, he dropped to his knees beside her. He fumbled with the hem of her shirt, flinching as his knuckles brushed her hot skin.

Not wanting to move her, he simply rolled the shirt up, exposing her smooth, slim belly. Pushing back the ache he felt at the sight of her, he leaned in close and cradled her face in his hand. “Julia. Julia, do you hear me?”

Her eyelids fluttered, gradually lifting enough so her eyes could find his. “Yes?” she groaned. She clutched her head and curled her knees up to her chest. “My head hurts…
sobad
.”

She started to cry, the sound of it wrenching. He stroked her arm as his mind spun with questions. What could have happened to her? What should he do for her?

“Cayne…” Her hands reached out for him, and he scooted closer, sliding one cool palm gently behind her neck.

“It’s okay. I’m here. I won’t leave you.” Her casted hand wove through her hair, the fingers pulling at her dark locks.

“It hurts. It
hurts
.”

 
“I’m sorry, heart.
Shhhhh
.
Shh
, Julia.” She was sobbing now, and he felt crazy with uselessness.

“What do you think it is?”

“I don’t know. It hurts. Cayne, it hurts so much!”

Just as he felt insane with impotent worry, Meredith flew through the door. She ran to Julia’s bedside, nudging Cayne out of the way as she fought to see her friend’s face.
 

“Julia!” Her voice was sultry, probably from drinking, he thought. “Julia, honey! I heard you out in the hall. What’s wrong?”

“My head hurts.” By now she was weeping softly. She reached an arm out, waving her hand. “Cayne? Where did he go?”

“I’m here.” He clasped her hand again and looked at Meredith. “What happened to her? Was anyone watching her at the bar?” A growl formed in his throat.
Fucking
Edan
.

Right on cue, the motherfucker stepped through the door. He didn’t look surprised at all by the scene in front of him, at least not until Meredith ran at him and threw her arms around him.

“
Edan
! We have got to help Julia. Something’s wrong with her!”

“What kind of something?” he said casually. As he stepped to the bed, Cayne caught the sweet scent of tobacco.