by Austin, RB
Lucas blew out a silent breath as she stood and tossed the blankets back on the bed, smoothing them out. He’d planned to remain silent until she was ready to talk, but he couldn’t sit still while she made his bed. “You don’t have to do that.”
She shrugged, her gaze not lifting as she continued to pull the sheet over the pillow. Lucas rose, picked up the pillow that had fallen off the side where he stood, and placed it at the head of the bed before tugging the sheet over it. Kate paused, frowning.
He picked up the comforter and nodded toward her side. Her frown deepened but she grabbed it and together they finished making the bed. When it was done, Lucas sat down, motioning to the other side. When she just stared at him, arms crossed, he added, “Please.”
“I want to brush my teeth.”
“She speaks.” The words just popped out. One glance at her expression and a small laugh escaped, as well. She didn’t like that. “Tell me, are you always this chipper when you first wake.”
“Are you always this annoying when someone first wakes?”
“I don’t know. You’re the first person to sleep in my bed.”
She snorted. “You’re not going to convince me you’re a virgin.”
“No, but you are the first nheqeba,” at her expression he clarified, “female, I’ve brought in my room.” She didn’t respond, but her gaze lowered.
Lucas eyed the leather gloves, the long sleeves, the way her shirt fell past the top of her pants. The only skin showing was her face. This nheqeba had been covered from head to toe since he met her, how could he find her so attractive?
“What about you? Are you a virgin?” Had she ever been kissed? Touched intimately? A growl started in his throat. He swallowed it. She didn’t lift her head, but her cheeks reddened. “I’m sorry, forget it. I was rude to ask.”
She still didn’t look at him.
“Are you hungry?” As if in response, her stomach rumbled. He smiled. “I’ll ask Jeeves to bring you food while you brush your teeth. Then we can talk.”
Her head jerked up. “No.”
He paused, hand hovering over his cell phone on the table next to the bed. Was she not going to talk to him? His chest tightened. Panic. He glanced at her. “No?”
“I don’t want Jeeves or Martha to wait on me. I make my own meals.”
Lucas opened his mouth to argue, saw her expression, and changed his mind. “Of course. I’m a bit peckish, as well. I’ll just go down with you. Make myself something, too.”
Another snort.
She was too cute. “Careful, Kate, you’re assuming again.”
She sniffed. “Fine. I’ll meet you outside my room.”
Lucas watched her leave. She wanted to go to the kitchen. Walk through the HQ. If Cade saw she was awake, Lucas wouldn’t be able to stop him from talking to her.
What if she didn’t want to talk? Would Cade use his ability? Lucas’s hands fisted. His eyes flared. He couldn’t stop the growl and it echoed around the room.
Lucas wouldn’t have any idea when, if, Cade infiltrated her mind. The Sept One leader could be reading her before he even approached.
“Hey, sorry if I was rude earlier. Sometimes I get a headache after—whoa.”
Lucas’s gaze flitted to Kate. She stood in the doorway. His blue gaze allowed him to see the depths of her eyes.
Brown was the wrong word choice. It was too plain. Though nothing he saw in all of his centuries equaled their beauty. She was speaking. He cocked his head, caught the last of it.
“. . . matter with you?” Her tone was exasperated, with a tinge of fear.
He stiffened. Blinked and the light from his eyes vanished. His fangs began to recede, too, though he didn’t remember when they descended. He rubbed his chest.
“Hello? Are you going to say something?”
“Sorry,” he said, finding his voice raspy. How long had he been growling?
Arms folded across her chest, she stayed in the doorway. “So what’s with the show?”
He shook his head. “It just . . .” Pause. “Came on,” he finished lamely.
She raised an eyebrow. “How often does that happen? I mean, I’d think a lot more people would know about you if you . . .” She curved two fingers. “Grr-ed out like that in public.”
“We try not to,” he mimicked her fingers, bringing them up to his mouth. “Grr out in front of Followers. I was in my room.”
She shrugged. “Whatever. I need to eat something. Are you coming or not?” Without waiting for his answer, she headed down the hallway.
Lucas cursed and hurried after her. She past Gabe’s room. Lucas felt the caress against his spine. Gabe was inside. He walked a few steps ahead and blinked, using his Behn vision to search the hallway leading into Cade and Sarid’s wing. No one was visible.
He didn’t breathe any easier. They still had to get through the foyer and front room. Please let the kitchen be empty. Martha and Jeeves would most likely still be in their wing. Although, Michael or Andrew, whoever was on shift, would see them walking through the HQ.
“Why are you walking so fast?” Kate asked, quickening her steps until she was next to him. “You’re acting weird.”
“Just starving.” He flashed a smile.
She stopped.
“What’s wrong?” He turned, gaze roaming. They were on the stairs. In view of Cade if he walked out of his wing. In view of Martha or Jeeves if they came in the foyer.
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re acting this way.”
He focused on Kate. Walked up one step to meet her, lowered his head. She stiffened, but didn’t back away. He was grateful. There weren’t just cameras in the HQ, but speakers as well. The ones in the bedrooms were off, although they could be turned on with a push of a button, but the ones in the other rooms were on at all times. “I want to get you into the kitchen before Cade sees you’re awake,” he whispered.
Though if an ebhed at the controls wanted to hear what Lucas was saying it wouldn’t matter how low he pitched his voice. He lifted his head to see if she understood, and froze. This was the closest he’d ever been to her when she was conscious and aware.
Her scent. He was outside in wintertime, an apple tree blooming in front of him. First was the cold—a pleasurable burn—then the sweetness. Intoxicating.
She had stilled, too, was staring with wide eyes, lips parted slightly. He held her gloved hand. “You don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let him hurt you.”
She blinked a couple times. Inhaled sharply. “He wants to hurt me? For what I did?” Emotions flicked across her face too fast for him to catch. He squeezed her hand.
“No.” Another glance around. His gaze ran over the camera hidden in the ceiling at the top of the steps. He lowered his voice. “He just wants to talk to you. Come. Into the kitchen. We’ll get some food. Take it to my room.”
She didn’t take her hand back as they descended. The feel of her gloved fingers tight around his palm was comforting, even though he’d only set out to reassure her.
Inside the kitchen—thankfully it was empty—he reluctantly let her go and pulled open the fridge.
“What are you hungry for?”
Kate snorted, reaching around him to open a drawer. She pulled out two plastic bags. “Do you even know what’s in the fridge, Rich Guy? When’s the last time you were in here? Probably to ask Martha to pour you some coffee?”
He growled low, spinning to trap her between his body and the island. She gasped. It wasn’t in fear. He placed one hand on either side of her, close but not touching.
“What can I do to prove that I’m not some rich, spoiled guy?” He kept his voice low.
Her heart was beating fast, but, again, she wasn’t afraid. Her scent filled the air. Lucas stood in
the middle of an orchard. His cock hardened and he tilted his hips back so not to scare her. He couldn’t lift his gaze from her lips, though. He wanted so badly to kiss her. Wanted it more than blood. More than another hit of darkness. Her lips parted on a soft intake of breath. He dragged his gaze upward, and sweet Creator, she was staring at his mouth. Then her gaze slowly rose to meet his.
He froze.
She looked hungry. And not for food.
Her tongue flicked out, wetting her lips. He bit back a groan. Her eyebrows rose. She lifted her gloved hand, touched the outside of his right eye. “Why do they do that?” she asked, voice low.
His eyes had flared its blue light the moment his body responded to her nearness. It was because he wanted her, but that would be the wrong thing to say. “Have you ever been kissed, Kate?”
She stilled.
Lucas could practically see the mask falling over her face. He regretted his words at once. Before he could apologize, she pushed at his chest. He dropped his hands and backed away.
She walked around him and opened a cupboard door, pulled out two loaves of bread. Lucas glanced at the packages on the counter. Ham and turkey. Back in the fridge, he grabbed the mustard, mayo, cheddar cheese, and lettuce. He set those on the counter next to Kate and walked around the island to the other set of cupboards to get two plates and a couple knives.
She was watching him, but quickly looked away after taking the offered plate and knife. They worked in silence. Kate made one sandwich. Ham and turkey on wheat. She didn’t use any mustard or mayo, but did add a slice of cheese to the ham and lettuce to the turkey. She used as much meat as Lucas did on his two sandwiches, though he’d also added cheese, lettuce, along with mustard and mayo, each smeared on their own slice.
“Carrots?” Lucas asked, when he was setting the items back in the fridge. He glanced over his shoulder.
She shook her head and instead opened the pantry door across the room, disappeared inside, returning moments later with a bag of jalapeno cheddar chips.
He grinned. “You and Gabe would get along well.”
Taking some carrots for himself, he hesitated in front of the cans of pop, deciding to grab two bottles of beer instead. He held them up. She shrugged.
Kate had already wiped up their mess on the counter. He grabbed their plates and, carrying the bottles in the crook of his arm, made his way out of the kitchen.
His instincts went on full alert. Kate followed, offering to carry something, which he ignored.
They made it to his room without notice. He closed the door behind him. Kate chose the chair. Lucas sat on the bed, resting his back against the headrest.
She fiddled with the crust of her sandwich, not looking at him. He wanted to ask what she was thinking. Wanted to apologize for his asinine question. For ruining the moment. He wanted to throw his plate on the floor, do the same to Kate’s, and drag her to bed for that kiss . . . and more.
He really, really wanted to do that.
He shifted uncomfortably, placing the plate on his lap to hide the effect of his thoughts.
“No.” Her voice so low a human wouldn’t have caught it. Gaze still on her plate, her fingers arranged the chips with rapt precision.
She lifted her head. “No. I’ve never been kissed.” Red blotches appeared on her cheeks.
He froze. Swallowed. Rearranged his plate again. “Because touching someone activates your ability?”
She nodded, dropped her gaze, and continued with the chip movement. “How’s Sarid?”
“Fine, Kate. He’ll be perfectly fine. No lasting damage.”
Had she ever caused lasting damage?
“That’s good. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was an accident.”
“He knows. Sarid said you couldn’t stop. He startled you. He takes full blame.”
Lucas gazed at the red scratches on her face. In the same spot as Sarid’s scars. They had dried in her sleep. Looked painful. She should put medicine on it. He’d contact Martha after she ate. See if they had antiseptic. The Behns hadn’t a need for it and rarely the ebheds, but maybe now with Emma in the HQ full time Martha had beefed up their first aid kit.
“What did you see?”
She shook her head vigorously. “I don’t, I can’t, no, I—”
“Forget I asked.” Her expression in the gym. The way she frantically clawed at her cheeks. It was proof enough. She’d seen who, or what, had made those scars on Sarid’s cheeks. Something his ach had never talked about before.
Her shoulders slumped and she looked relieved. She picked up her sandwich, held it for a moment, looking at it with an expression he didn’t understand, before taking a small bite.
He waited for her to swallow before saying, “Sarid said it was like he was having a heart attack.”
She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know exactly what I do when it happens.”
“Has it happened before?”
She froze. “One other time.” Her voice was barely audible.
“And the outcome?”
She didn’t speak, didn’t meet his gaze.
He was silent for a moment. “How does it work?”
“It’s involuntary. Both times it involved fear. My fear and the other person’s. The images I see, the emotions I receive from the vision, somehow I make them see and feel it, too. I make them afraid.”
“So afraid that it stops their heart?”
She shrugged. “When it happens, I’m in the memory. I’m aware enough to know they are seeing what I see, but not of anything else.”
“But what you see doesn’t stop your heart.”
“No. I don’t know why.” She put her plate on the ground.
Lucas frowned. She’d only taken one bite, but Cade could interrupt them at any moment. “Tell me, Kate.” He spoke quietly. “Tell me how it works. What it does to you.”
She didn’t say anything and he was afraid she was going to refuse. If she refused to talk, could he get her out of the HQ fast enough?
“My ability didn’t really start until I hit puberty, well, no, that’s not true. I had it all my life, but they were so sporadic I thought it was my imagination. It wasn’t until I blossomed”—she wrinkled her nose—“that it really kicked into gear. Lucky me, I had my first period when I was nine.
“At that time I was back at the group home. The foster family I was with had lost their privileges when the little baby, Tracy, I think her name was, had died from dehydration. The State came in and learned they were using the money they received for their six foster kids to buy drugs, not food, clothes, or even blankets.” Kate shook her head. “Anyway, Joey had started laughing because there was blood on my pants. I knew what was happening, but was still a bit freaked out and had no one to talk to, so I snuck downstairs. Hid in the part of the basement we weren’t supposed to go. There was a couch.” She trailed off, staring past Lucas as if seeing it all again. “I sat down, moved to curl in the corner, when my hand grazed a cushion.”
She swallowed thickly. “The couch was old. Maybe twenty, thirty years. I don’t know how long I was in the vision. I don’t know if I screamed. But when I came to Nan, one of the workers, was there with me.” Kate rubbed the outside of her gloved hand. “I told her what I saw. That Peter, the man who would come in and repair things when they broke, had raped and murdered Elizabeth five years ago. She’d been fourteen.
“Everyone thought she’d run away. I never met her, or if I did, I was only four so I don’t remember, but I recall hearing the workers talk about her. Whenever there was a runaway, she was brought up. She’d been so quiet, they said. Never got in trouble. Didn’t seem like the runaway type.
“When I look back I’m surprised Nan believed me. Maybe it was my expression. Maybe if what you say is true, my eyes had changed. But she’
d talked to the police and they confronted Peter. He apparently had done it to three other teens who’d been listed as runaways.” Kate shrugged. Glanced down at her hands, flexed and unflexed them. “It was Nan who gave me the gloves. Smaller then, but every year, no matter where I was, she’d send me a pair for Christmas. Until I was eighteen.
“It started in my hands. Then every year a body part or two would be added to the mix. My own personal birthday gift.” She laughed, but it was harsh, ugly. “One I couldn’t return. By the time I was sixteen it was over every part of my skin.
“If I touch, even brush, against something, I’m thrown into a vision. Sometimes it’s the last memory the object has. Most of the time, it’s the one with the strongest emotions tied to it.
“No matter where I’m at, what temperature it is outside, I wear pants, socks up to my knees, long sleeves, gloves, and, when I can, my hair down to hide the back of my neck.”
“What about your clothes?”
“My clothes?”
“Clothes touch your body. Don’t you see a memory?”
“Yes, but if I touch something once, I can touch it again and not see anything. Most of the time with clothes I’ll see who wore it before me. Washing helps mute it, but water can’t remove all the stain.” She fell silent again, eyes going distant.