Tempt

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by Claire Farrell


  “Wait! Do you want a training session tomorrow?”

  I thought about it. Maybe I could scare him off. “Okay, fine. Where?”

  He laughed. “My place, of course. Come over whenever you’re ready. Daytime because we’re back out after Becca tomorrow night. It’s our turn again, now they’re short on Guardian Circles.”

  “Whatever,” I said, trying not to yawn. “See you then. Oh, by the way. Daimhín paid me tonight.” I laughed at his stutters and ended the call, feeling more alive than I had in a while.

  Chapter Three

  The following morning, I decided to call Carl when I knew he would be at work in Eddie’s bookshop. It still rankled that he worked so close to Eddie, but Peter kept telling me to let Carl make his own mistakes. I was trying, as hard as it might be to watch. For the first time, it dawned on me that Peter might feel the same way when he watched me make mistakes.

  “Hey, Ava.” Carl sounded chirpy on the phone, and I faltered, wondering if maybe I was mistaken and Peter had been right after all.

  “I was just calling to see how you’re doing. Any news?”

  “Me? Nah, nothing. Working hard, living clean. All that good stuff. But listen, I’ve been reading up on the whole Nephilim thing. Maybe you should come over one morning and have a look.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” My heart sank. I had been hoping he’d forget about it, but Carl sucked up knowledge like a sponge. Obviously, he was going out of his way to learn as much about my world as he could.

  Once he learned I had a name, he had gone into overdrive reading about it. It made me uncomfortable, for no real reason. I had always wanted to know more about myself, and had been given the opportunity, but suddenly my heart wasn’t in it anymore. Having to learn about myself in a book felt weird.

  Carl and I chatted for a few more minutes until he had to serve a customer, and I had to get ready for my first training session with Peter. The Council had stopped trying to find me trainers or sparring partners. Apparently, the Nephilim-ish titles came with serious respect, and although the Council had tried to contain it, word spread fast. It didn’t have much impact on Peter, but I knew all I had to do was act more than a little vampire-like for him to run scared, too.

  I knew the Council wanted me trained and fighting-fit, but I preferred my way. No rules, no plan, just keeping on and avoiding death for as long as possible. Actual plans made me panic and jump at whatever my instincts decided felt right. I had lasted long enough to realise I couldn’t force the way my brain worked.

  All morning, my stomach turned at the thought of being in such close contact with Peter, and I found myself washing down my widest kitchen counter in fourteen swipes. Any more and I had to start over. It took five goes to perfect the ritual, but the safe numbers calmed me enough so I could leave for Peter’s house.

  Clutching the cross hanging from my neck, I decided I would be the one to make Peter think twice about the training session, but when he opened his front door in his training gear, my mouth watered instantaneously.

  “You made it!” He sounded surprised, and I supposed I couldn’t blame him. I hadn’t been quite there for a while. Phoning everything in, more like. I wasn’t sure what was piquing my interest all of a sudden. It was as though I had an aerial that tingled whenever something was going on, and I felt like something was going on all around me.

  Eddie had warned that my natural ability to soak up emotional energy might affect my moods, and that paranoid spike might simply boil down to nervousness from Becca-related fear. Whatever it was, my instincts were chomping at the bit to find out more.

  “I have a basement.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Built special. Don’t worry. It’s not creepy.”

  I raised my eyebrows but followed him underground. I had never been in a basement apart from the one where Maximus had slept. The one where Maximus had died. Basements had never been common in Ireland, and I wondered what kind of builder concentrated on creating them.

  Peter’s basement was a little creepy, but still miles better than the last one I’d visited. It was well-lit and had gym mats on the floor, plus some equipment.

  I gazed at the mish-mash, bemused. “Why?” I asked, gesturing around the room.

  Peter shrugged, his cheeks pink. “Seemed like a good idea at the time. I was angry, kept breaking things in the gym, had to deal with trainers telling me to take it easy. Figured it would be easier to take the real deal back here where I could work in peace. It’s my way of relaxing, I suppose.”

  “And there I was thinking your way of relaxing was killing something. All right then, let’s get on with it. See how long this takes.”

  He made a face and began warming up. I sat on a mat and watched him, enjoying his flexing muscles more than I would ever admit. He took off his t-shirt to wrap something around his waist, letting me get a better view of his tattoos and scars. I’d known about the tattoos on his wrists and biceps, but he had what looked like pentacle-type symbols on his shoulder blades and four deep scars etched across his back like something had tried to claw out his spine.

  He turned to grab some tape, and I spotted a scorpion on his hip, flames on his rib cage, and some text over his heart. I tried not to stare too hard. Something about Peter had always appealed to me, and my hormones had been out of whack, so I was suddenly overwhelmed with the sense that I might be the one bowing out of the training session first.

  Peter threw his shirt back on and caught me staring at him. “Aren’t you going to get ready?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  Looking down at myself, I could only shrug. I hadn’t even bothered to take off my coat. “I am ready. This is what I wear when I’m outside, so makes sense to train in it, right?”

  He shook his head and muttered under his breath. “Whatever you say, Ava. All right, first of all, we’ll do some basic one-on-one, see if we can pinpoint your strengths and weaknesses.” He moved closer to me, gesturing wildly. My eyes kept tracing the movement of the cross on each of his wrists as if they were hypnotising me. “I’ve been watching you, so I think I can see where you might need help, but we’ll figure it out on the mats.”

  I opened my mouth to make a smartarse remark about him watching me, but all I made was a heavy gasping sound as Peter rammed his shoulder into my chest, winding me.

  I lay on the ground and choked for a few minutes. “What. The Hell,” I hissed when I could breathe again.

  Peter grinned and plonked himself down next to me. “You take your eye off the ball. That’s your biggest problem. Then you look surprised when someone else takes the lead. You’re too easily distracted, and your biggest physical weakness is when they grapple you, so don’t let it get that far. You need to attack first. That’s where your strength lies. Becca’s intimidated by you, for whatever reason. Use that against her. Don’t wait for her to get brave. Don’t let her see you hesitate. Don’t let her think ahead. When you’re impulsive, you make mistakes.”

  “Says you. I’ve heard all about your impulsive actions. Gotten quite a reputation for yourself.”

  He looked smug at the mention of his reputation. I lay on the ground longer than necessary because I didn’t want to wrestle with him, not if it meant feeling the heat of his skin on mine. I shook those thoughts out of my mind and tried to concentrate. I hated when he was right, and I was definitely easily distracted by him, so I counted his heartbeats in a bid to calm myself down.

  Peter talked and talked about what moves to make, how to defend myself, a million and one things that I could remember perfectly as long as nobody was hitting me. He made me take off my jacket and warm up. Peter was in shape. I might be strong, but I wasn’t as fit as I would like. So when he forced me onto his cross-trainer, I felt as if I might die any second. I had the awful feeling that he was trying to pack as much as possible into one session in case I never returned. If I had to keep moving, I might not have the energy to leave at all.

  “All right, come on. Onto the mats. Let’s see i
f you remember anything I said.”

  Sweat rolled down my back as I eyed Peter’s tattoos. The ones on display anyway.

  “What do they—” My words were cut off by Peter tackling me to the ground. I tried to remember everything he’d told me, but I was too conscious of his body against mine. Too aware of his pulse against my skin. Distracted, I forgot to count, and he pinned me easily.

  He jumped up and circled me with more than a hint of swagger in his step. “Come on, you’re not even trying! I’m just a human. What if a vampire did that to you?”

  I stood, annoyed with myself, and tried to shake it off. His heart pumped with adrenalin. I could hear it as though my head lay against his chest. I concentrated on counting his heartbeat to distract myself from the testosterone in the air. It didn’t work very well.

  “Let’s go, Ava. I’m a vampire, ready to kill you. I won’t leave you alone until everyone you know is dead. What are you going to do?”

  He ran at me again, but I was ready. I tripped him, shoved his shoulder to knock him sideways, and planted him on the ground, sitting on top of him to pin him.

  “That’s more like it,” he said, his hazel eyes holding my stare. The heat of his skin melted into mine, and a trail of goose bumps raised on my skin. I eased off my grip as my throat dried, and that oh-so-familiar ache returned. He grabbed my arms and threw me under him, pinning me down and holding my arms above my head with a self-satisfied grin on his face.

  “You didn’t hold your concentration. Again! What’s the problem?”

  I gave what could only be described as the shriek of an over-excited teenage girl. “I’m not used to the heat, all right? I don’t touch people. It makes me nervous, so get off!” I used all of my strength to push him off me and got to my feet, tapping my fingers against my wrist rapidly.

  “I’m sorry, but you have to get past this. Hey, you’re doing it again,” he said, referring to my habit of mouthing the numbers I multiplied in my head.

  “I know!” I wanted to pull out my hair. Anything to feel in control again.

  He held up his hands, taking a step back. “Relax. Look, we’ll work on other stuff, okay? No more pinning, I promise.”

  I nodded, feeling more stupid than ever. Peter tried his best to teach me how to protect myself in an actual fight, but I was so stiff and awkward and panicky about my reactions to him that it didn’t work very well.

  “Ava, what’s the problem? This should be fun for you.”

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted. “I’ve been thirsty lately. I’m afraid I’ll get too close to you.” I didn’t add what else might be a problem. Him thinking I wanted to drink his blood was way better than him knowing I fancied the arse off him, but my stupid hormones couldn’t handle it.

  His face paled, but he held himself together pretty well. “I know you. You won’t hurt me. If you feel… funny, just yell ‘stop,’ and I’ll back off. Deal?”

  I nodded, knowing exactly what it took for him to act so cool about it. I was a huge reminder of the things he hated, yet he was willing to get over it, or at least try. I was back to wanting to tuck myself under his arm where it was nice and safe. He looked wary, but he came at me as though I hadn’t spoken of my thirst. I relaxed and managed to avoid being put in a headlock or flung to the ground.

  “Much better,” he said, panting, then grappled me again. The sparring helped. With my pent-up aggression and my confidence in my abilities. I didn’t scream once. Peter didn’t hold back, and slowly, everything I was feeling melted away with each strike I landed. I felt lighter and lighter as time went on, a huge contrast to the moping I’d been doing at home.

  Sweating and claiming he ached, Peter eventually called a halt to the training session, but I was majorly pumped. Once Peter let me at his punching bag, it was as if I had thumped my stress away, yet somehow soaked up new energy at the same time.

  “I feel amazing,” I said, giddy at how good it felt to move around so much. And perhaps Eddie was right. Maybe getting used to being around humans helped because the thirst wasn’t bothering me anymore. Pity I couldn’t say the same about my ridiculously inconvenient attraction to Peter.

  “Glad one of us does.” Peter stretched his arm carefully. “Where are you getting all of your energy? The harder you worked, the more hyped you became.”

  “I don’t know. I just feel good. Better than good, actually. Maybe I needed the exercise.” I grinned, mostly relieved I hadn’t made a complete fool of myself from being so close to him.

  He raised his eyebrows, probably bemused by the change in my demeanour. He was different, too, seeming more comfortable. Fighting together had brought us closer in some ways. Being distant with someone who had saved your life a couple of times was hard.

  “Think I can handle a vampire?”

  “You know how to handle a vampire. You just need to get your head straight. You have natural instinct on your side, but you also have self-control.”

  I raised my eyebrows. Self-control hadn’t yet showed up on my list of skills.

  “Seriously,” he insisted. “You hold back a little, even when you’re attacked for real. You don’t lose it. Vampires completely lose the plot.”

  “Is that a good thing?” I wasn’t convinced.

  “Of course it is. It means you’re thinking. And it means you always have a little extra juice up your sleeve when you need it. Hey.” He lifted my chin. “You’re going to be okay.” I held his gaze for a little too long. He backed off, just as I knew he would. Comfortable as we were, some things would always be a step too far. For either of us. For a million reasons.

  “I should probably go.”

  He nodded. “Maybe we’ll make this a regular thing for a while. Until we can find someone more suitable. I’m not sure I can take this much of a beating every week.”

  I tried not to laugh. I’d definitely gotten my own back at him in the end. “Whatever you say. I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Yep.” He turned his back to me. “Esther’s tagging along.”

  I bit my lip, realising that wasn’t the full story. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “That’s not what this is, Ava. She wants to see how you do it. That’s all.” He turned back around, his eyes more earnest. “She wants to know how to track Becca.”

  “I can hardly teach her that,” I snapped.

  He held out his hands. “I know. They all just want to feel like they can do something.”

  “Since when did you start caring about how the Guardians feel?”

  “We’re all on the same side. At least for now. If she can learn from you, then—”

  “I’ll see you later.” I knew he didn’t understand my anger, but that was because he was all about the next step. I couldn’t move forward when I had so much on my mind. Aside from feeling convinced one of the Guardians had something to do with the toxic shadows that tried to cling to people’s souls, everyone wanted to know my secrets. I was the one person they thought could reveal everything, but I had no answers.

  Chapter Four

  I lowered my chin until the bottom half of my face was protected by my collar. The drizzling rain slowly dampened my hair, more irritating than anything else. The moon was full, and the night didn’t seem as dark as usual, despite the clouds.

  I waited outside my building for Peter and Esther, unable to stay indoors for a minute longer. The workout with Peter had driven something, unleashed something, made me uneasy somehow.

  I recognised the growl of Peter’s car but didn’t move until it came to a complete stop in front of me. It bugged me to see Esther in the front seat. I hated that backseat. It reminded me of how Peter used to make me sit there because he didn’t trust me not to bite him.

  Esther turned around to talk to me as soon as Peter started the car. “I haven’t seen you in ages. I’ve called, but… I guess I keep missing you.” Her chirpy voice faltered as if she finally clued in to the expression on my face.

  “Ignore her,” Peter said. “She
’s been in a bad mood since I’ve known her.”

  Esther grinned, her face lighting up. “She’s not so bad.” Her face was heavily made up, her hair styled as always. I would never equate a bear to her curvy frame. She didn’t look like a fighter, and part of me was curious to see how we would match up in a fight.

  “Aiden told me to tell you he was asking for you,” she tried again.

  I seriously doubted that, but I nodded and tried to smile. I liked Esther, I really did, but she was so confident in herself, despite her past, that I couldn’t help feeling inadequate around her. She knew exactly who and what she was, and she wasn’t afraid of it. Enter me, and the difference was astounding. Even in appearance, I was the lesser, and my admittedly boyish frame didn’t exactly hold up well against her more feminine build. It all might have been fine except I had an awful feeling that the Council had sent her to hunt with me, or rather, to check up on me.

  “What happened to your hands?” she asked, eyeing the bandages.

  I slipped them into my pockets and slumped down in the seat. “Long story.”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Esther fished something out of her stylish handbag. “Here’s a list of the manned checkpoints in Dublin tonight.”

  That might have come in handy every other night, I wanted to scream.

  Peter pulled down the glove compartment and took out something shiny. “Here, wear this,” he told Esther, and held it out while keeping his eyes on the road.

  “Thanks.” She carefully took from his hands what turned out to be a necklace with a chunky cross. The way she looked at him disturbed me, as if I had any claim on another soul.

  “You a jeweller on the side now?” I muttered.

  Esther threw me a bemused glance, but Peter just ignored me.

  “Is this going to do something?” she asked him.

  “Crosses definitely hurt her. And it won’t hurt you to have a little extra protection.”

  Her laugh was confident, cocky even. “You know I turn into a bear, right?”

 

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