Rory nodded her head as she put in a call to her favorite prince. “Hey, Henry. I got in. I’ll have the window replaced before I leave.”
Henry groaned. “You broke a window? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Your neighbor actually helped bandage me up. Cordray says hello.”
Cord bowed his head with a relaxed smile, his hands folded over his stomach.
Henry’s voice grew grim. “Rory, be careful with him.”
Rory’s spine stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“Cordray’s a nice guy. Great to have as a neighbor for a property I hardly visit. But don’t let him too near you. There’s a reason he lives out in the woods.”
Rory’s gaze flicked over to Cord. She could tell he could hear Henry’s warning by the hardening of his eyes that stared out the window as he rocked his chair back and forth on its two legs. The objects floating behind him in the air now seemed menacing, instead of playful.
“Henry?” she said, breathless as her palms began to sweat.
The prince’s voice came back with a swift verdict. “Cordray Phillips is a Lethal.”
4
Robbing a Bank
When Rory ended the call, she tried to keep her demeanor light, but her voice came out squeaky and pinched. “You’ve lived out here four years, you said? That’s nice.”
Cordray set all four legs down on the wooden floor with a bang, leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on his thighs and level his gaze at her. “And there it is.”
Rory brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around her shins. Protecting her body was a futile attempt when going up against a Lethal, but she couldn’t help the fear that drove her closer to fight-or-flight mode. “There what is?”
He jabbed his gloved finger at her with an even tone that was laced with accusation. “The government claims they care about the Lethals, but you’re just as afraid as everyone else. We’re guilty before we have a chance to prove ourselves.”
Rory’s mouth hung open, momentarily forgetting about the cut on her arm. “That’s really what you think? How would you expect someone to react when they’re in a room with a person who could murder them with a single touch?”
“I would expect any sane, compassionate person to thank the man who took care of you while you were passed out, bandaged your arm, brought you water, and sat with you until you felt better. Lethals are great for enforcing security, but apparently not much else.”
“Cordray, I didn’t mean anything by…”
He stood, a look of sheer disappointment on his face. “I expect this of Avondale’s citizens. They only know what the papers tell them. Malaura is rumored to be gathering up her Lethals, gearing up for some unknown nefarious attack. It’s all so scary to them. But you? You’re in the exact same position I am.”
Rory’s eyebrow quirked in confusion. “What position is that?”
He gestured around the mildly furnished cabin. “One where you have to resort to hiding out in the woods to get some peace and quiet. One where people read something online and make assumptions about your entire life and who you are.” He moved to stand in the doorway, his voice quieting as he glared at her. “One where people judge your usefulness based on your Pulse.”
Rory bristled, draping her legs over the edge of the bed as she rolled her shoulders back. “Is that supposed to be a crack at me because I’m a Deadpulse? Am I somehow less because I can’t perform even the most basic spells?”
He gripped the doorjamb with one hand and pointed in her face with the other. “The thing is, I never cared about any of that. Of all people, I know that a person’s Pulse doesn’t define them; it’s what they do with their whole life that makes them a monster or a man.” He banged his fist to his chest. “I am not a monster!”
When he made to leave, Rory called out for forgiveness. “Cord, wait!” She tried to get up to plead with him, to make him understand the stigma (as if he didn’t already). But the moment she stood, she realized her mistake too late. Her legs weren’t sturdy enough to support her yet, and her knees buckled, plummeting her downward toward the wooden floor.
Cordray swore as he darted forward to catch her, his arms scooping her up before she hit the ground, her legs dangling over his forearm. Their hearts beat quickly as the frenzy of their fight crackled in the air around them, but as the seconds wore on, Rory errantly wondered when the last time was that she’d been figuratively swept off her feet. Academically, she knew he was dangerous, but the genuine hurt in his eyes pinged at the more subtle parts of her. There was a gentleness to his steady movements that brought trust to the surface, when normally she’d been instructed to retreat from someone so deadly. Without understanding every nuance, being held in his sturdy arms helped her stiff limbs begin to relax.
She didn’t mean to lean her head against the meat of his shoulder, just as she was sure Cordray didn’t mean to rest his chin atop her head. Possibility crackled in the air around them, and before she could stop herself, her hand found its way to his neck. Her fingers traced the slope from his shoulder up to the edge of his jaw, just so she could acquaint herself with the feel of his skin.
Just as soon as she felt his shiver under the care of her touch, she withdrew her fingers, suddenly embarrassed. “I’m sorry. I…”
“Easy,” he whispered, and then gently deposited her atop the mattress, fluffing the pillows around her as she leaned her spine against the headboard. There was a hard edge to his eyes, and Rory could see he was making a concerted effort not to touch her, so as not to spook her. When he took a step back from the bed, he raised his hands to prove their innocence. “See? I won’t hurt you. You can see I’m wearing my gloves. You know you can’t Pulse another person if your hands are covered.”
In the room that was clean, with sheets tailored to her affinity for grays with a lavender accent, Rory felt like the ball of chaos that didn’t belong in the space. She’d broken a window, fainted, and insulted a perfectly decent man who went above and beyond to look out for Henry’s interests.
Rory rubbed her knuckles into her forehead. “I was completely off the mark. I’m sorry, Cord. We do so much talk about what to do with the Lethals, making sure policies are fair to them, but I’m not actually allowed to be too near them.”
Cordray’s eyes lifted to the ceiling, as if reining his indignation in so he didn’t devolve into fruitless arguing. “To your credit, I actually think the king and your father’s policies on equal rights for Lethals are decent. But you can’t preach about tolerance if you recoil every time you’re around one of us.”
Rory frowned at him, her bout of wooziness taking away much of her tact. “All due respect, but I can feel as wary as I want around a Lethal. I’ve been abducted eight times, and each of those instances involved Lethals.”
“Eight times?” His shoulders deflated, and the fight seemed to go out of him. His gaze softened as it landed on her. “Jeez. I didn’t know that.”
“Not many people do. My parents keep as much as they can away from the press. If it leaks out that a Lethal is causing problems, it could turn into a witch hunt, and all our hard work at getting equal rights for your kind will go out the door.” She took a chance and motioned for him to sit on the mattress near her feet. “Still, you didn’t abduct me. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”
Cordray tugged on her toe, giving her a playful smile as a peace offering. “Forgiven. You feeling alright? Almost ready to set off on your next criminal activity?”
“I’m thinking I should rob a bank next. I’m far better at stealth than I imagined.” She held up her bandaged arm with a crooked smile.
“Just a bank? I think we should go bigger. Something with an even louder alarm system. Go big or go home, right?”
Cordray kept an eye on the door while they planned out their imaginary heist, as if he expected to have to ward off intruders from snatching at the Chancellor’s daughter. The two laughed as they drew fictional floorplans of various high-profile bui
ldings they would break into together, their fingers tracing escape routes into the comforter between them. As the minutes ticked by, Rory realized how very easy it was to relax around Cordray. He asked thoughtful questions about which monuments they would vandalize and why, and when would be the best time of year, so no devious behavior coincided with important things, like National Jam Day.
Sure, she joked around with Henry, Remus, and occasionally Adam. This felt different. Cordray smelled like freshly sawed pine and laundry detergent. His muscles were thick, no doubt from outdoor labor. There was a quiet calm to him that permitted her heart to flutter without judgment while she worked through exactly why she hadn’t pulled away from him yet. It wasn’t an everyday occurrence a man sat on her bed, but the sight burned in her vision in ways that reminded her she was on vacation, which was when scandalous things could be entertained.
When she sneezed from the dust, Cordray got up and opened the window to let in a gust of the crisp air. “Oh, that’s wonderful. It doesn’t smell like this in the city.”
Cordray drew in a long breath with a look of contentment as he gazed out the window. “That’s one of the perks of living out here.”
He was a sight to behold against the sunlight that streamed in to highlight his sharp cheekbones, the sensual curves of his upper lip, and the firmness of his chest that Rory studied with perhaps too much fascination. When he’d lifted her off the ground to keep her from falling, something chaotic in her calmed when her body rested against his chest. She’d felt the inner angst of her impending life’s pause begin to quiet to a deep sigh she’d been hoping her vacation would produce.
Yet, it wasn’t nature, nor was it the lovely cabin that was outfitted for such escapes. It was his arms that quieted her spinning schedule and the fear that was always looming that she wouldn’t accomplish enough – wouldn’t be enough – before she was no more.
Before she knew what she was doing, Rory was out of the bed and by his side at the window, feeling oddly settled the closer she got to him. She knew she should be nervous about his Lethal magic, and part of her was, but she didn’t worry for her safety any longer. Instead of anxiety, it was butterflies that batted around in her belly, quickening her heartrate as she breathed in the earthy scent of him. “Is that why you live out here? Because you’re Lethal?”
Cordray glanced down at her, his body shifting so it was more open to her – inviting without touching. “Let’s not bog it all down with things we both know will be hard to talk about. A cabin in the woods is a good option for me. It’s peaceful, uncomplicated, and every now and then I get to stop a beautiful prowler. Don’t go feeling sorry for me, Story. This is a good life for someone like me.”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Story?”
His neck shrank almost impishly, and he looked back out the window to avoid her gaze. “Yeah. Everyone has a story about you, but it doesn’t seem like the real one gets to come out all that often.”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, her cheeks rounding with the hint of a smile. “I like that.”
His chest rounded out as he reached forward, as if to place his hand on her hip, but then suddenly withdrew it. His eyes widened, as if she was the one who was dangerous, and touching her would lend itself to certain doom.
Though she knew all the reasons why she shouldn’t, Rory couldn’t help herself. Her hand moved of its own accord to rest on his chest. She thrilled at the brazen act, wondering if this was the rush the rest of the world got to glory in. Now it was her turn, and she wasn’t about to back away from the heady addiction that was rapidly taking hold of her.
She felt him shudder, as if the flutter of her fingers had been sensual in nature.
“Sorry,” he said as he cleared his throat. “Not too many people are brave enough to touch a Lethal. It’s… That’s…” He drew in a steadying breath, his hand moving to cover hers, keeping it there so she could feel the rapid jumps of his heart. “This is the best break-in I’ve ever been to.”
Rory knew she should pull her hand from his chest, but the muscles were so firm – his heartbeat so pure. For such a complicated situation, being near him felt unbelievably simple. Her life had been mired by too many decisions, too much controversy. To have a moment of uninterrupted sweetness made her want to live in the warmth of his touch, deadly though it was.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted in a whisper, alarmed at how brazen she was behaving.
Cordray caught her wrist, his voice turning husky with a low note of desire. “I do.” His other arm coiled around her hips with the promise of better things to come.
When her phone rang, they both jolted with the suddenness of the interruption. Rory jumped back, her hand flying to her forehead as it dawned on her how out of character she was behaving. Cordray shook his head as if trying to rid himself of the haze in which they both found themselves mired.
Rory fished around on the bed for her cell phone, sighing when she saw who was calling. “I’m sorry. I have to take this.” She answered with practiced patience. “Hi, Benjamin.”
“Is there a reason you’ve decided to go completely off-book today? You told me you were going to lie down.”
“I was just doing exactly that. I didn’t mention where I would be napping, so technically, not a lie.”
“That had better be your idea of a joke. I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”
She cringed at Benjamin’s seething. She could picture his brown hair slightly tousled from his harried search for her, and the crease between his eyebrows when he’d no doubt found her note. He was twenty years her senior, and she’d always thought of him as an uncle. Guilt washed through her at having worried him, though she knew she couldn’t have granted herself this time alone if she hadn’t cut and run when she did. “I left you a note.”
“Do you want me to call you ‘young lady’? Because I will if you don’t march yourself back here in the next ten seconds.”
Rory cast Cordray a look of apology when he made his way to the door. He met her eyes with a softness to his smile that told her he’d enjoyed their brief time together as much as she had.
Only she realized she didn’t want anything about their interaction to be brief. She craved buckets and buckets of experiences with him, bathing in nothing but time, which always seemed to be slipping through her fingers. How she wanted to hold onto him.
Rory reached out and grabbed onto his fingers, surprising them both with her daring. Though his hands were gloved, it was only a thin layer of fabric that kept him from killing her by accident. No one touched Lethals, for fear of being errantly murdered or put in the hospital.
Cordray stopped his exit, standing stock-still in the doorway just to prolong the simple touch. It breathed humaneness into them both, reminding them that though their worlds involved a fair amount of ostracism, there was still tenderness and closeness to be discovered.
“I’m not in the area, Benjamin. But I’m safe, I promise.”
“Oh, that makes me feel so much better. You’re not safe unless I’m there, because it’s my job to make sure you’re not taken again. You realize that your twenty-fifth birthday is coming up, right? Malaura isn’t going to trust her curse to hold. She’ll want to be up close to make sure it unfolds exactly as she designed it. This isn’t the time to run off!”
Rory wanted to shout at him, but kept her decorum as much as one might expect from a politician’s daughter. “Either way, I’m going to fall into my coma. No matter if I’m with you or far away. You can’t protect me, Benjamin. I’ve got four months left, and I want to spend a little of my time by myself.” She gripped the phone, wishing she wasn’t having this conversation in front of the newcomer, yet she was unwilling to let go of Cordray’s hand. “I’ll check in by phone every night and each morning. Henry knows where I’m at, and that I’m safe.”
She could tell that her guard was trying to rein in his temper. “Rory, I swear.”
“Love you, too, and I
’ll talk to you in the morning.” She could scarcely believe her daring when she ended the call, staring at her phone in wonder. “I can’t believe I just did that.”
Cordray squeezed her fingers, studying their joined hands with wonder. “It was pretty incredible.”
As if only just realizing what her hand was doing, Rory retracted her reach, her neck shrinking with chagrin. “I’m sorry. I know I don’t know you. I’m not usually so… I’m all turned around.”
Cordray shoved his hands into his pockets, a bashful smirk toying at the edges of his lips. “A beautiful woman who can’t stop holding my hand is never a bad thing.” He held her gaze, tearing it away when her phone rang again. “I should probably go. Your guard probably wouldn’t be too thrilled to know you’re in a cabin alone with a Lethal.” He didn’t say it in a self-pitying way, but with a firm commitment to her safety and peace of mind.
She made to argue, but when she glanced at the phone and saw the number, she grimaced. “Actually, it’s my parents. I should probably take this.”
He bowed his head to her. “Take care, Story.”
Her fingers made to reach for him again, but she stopped herself short, and then stared at her hand, as if to ask it just what it thought it was doing.
“Hello, Mom,” she said as Cordray disappeared into the hallway. Her mother filled her ear with fretting, but she only heard the boots of Cordray as he tromped down the steps and moved out of the cabin into the woods.
5
Terrible at Vacations
The sun filtered through the edges of the curtains when morning finally roused Rory. She yawned, stretching like a cat atop the mattress. Her throat was scratchy from the outdoors, but she couldn’t remember having slept so well in months. She’d turned her phone off – actually off – before she’d gone to sleep. The relief of no one being able to contact her was a restfulness she felt deep down in her bones.
Beauty's Cursed Sleep Page 3