by Kelly Oram
The words were innocent enough, but I knew what he was doing. He’d met Ethan and Grace once, briefly. I’d sent him away before he could really talk to either of them. But I knew he was curious. He didn’t want to push his boundaries with me, but he was definitely interested in my friends. “Home,” I growled. “I’ll be in Carmine tonight.”
There was another long pause, but his reply, when it finally came, was smooth. “Okay, Russ. I’ll meet you at home. I’ll come right away, but it’s going to take me a while. I can probably be there by tomorrow afternoon.”
My suspicion shot through the roof. “Why? Where are you? What are you doing?”
“I’m in France.”
“France?”
Dad sighed. “I’ll explain everything when I get there.”
His promise of answers reminded me of why I’d called him in the first place, and I nearly squeezed my phone hard enough to crack the screen. “Oh, I’m counting on it, Dad.”
I hung up before he could respond, and scanned the street for Clara. I found her across the street, talking to some dude on a motorcycle, and rolled my eyes. Of course she was flirting instead of doing what I had asked her to. I crossed the street, ready to wring her neck, when suddenly, the guy handed his helmet over to her with a huge smile on his face. The spell she’d used on him was so subtle no one on the street would have noticed. “Whoa.”
If it hadn’t been Clara working the guy over like a pro, I’d have bowed down to her sweet magic skills right then and there. And then there was her choice in vehicles. I moseyed up to her and let out a low whistle just as she straddled the machine. “All the cars on this street, and you chose a motorcycle?” I hated to be impressed, but, man, that was just cool. I’d always wanted to ride a motorcycle.
She pulled her shoulders back in defiance as she handed me a spare helmet from a small compartment on the back of the bike. “Andrew gave me one when I joined his coven. Motorcycles are a vampire thing, but, honestly, they’re the only way to travel.”
I believed her. I was so excited to go for a ride that I didn’t even argue when she told me to get on behind her and hang on tight. I thought I’d puke having to be so close to her the entire drive, but the minute I slipped my arms around her waist the unease melted away. I guess my need for supernatural essence trumped my loathing of her.
A shiver rocked my body as the energy came at me, and I ground my teeth as I tried to contain it. It was bad enough that I needed her at all; I really didn’t want her seeing how much I needed her. Still, a small sigh escaped me, and my body relaxed despite everything.
Instead of driving off, Clara took my hands and slid them beneath her shirt, splaying them across the warm, smooth skin of her stomach. I wanted to pull away and scream at her, but I couldn’t. The second my hands came into contact with her skin, I gasped. My arms tightened around her, and my fingers dug softly into her skin. “What the H are you doing, Clara?” My voice came out breathless, and I started to tremble.
She sighed. “Don’t think I enjoy this, and don’t get any ideas. Skin-to-skin contact is better for sharing energy.” She cleared her throat and sounded a little embarrassed as she added, “The more intimate the touch the stronger the connection we’ll build, and the faster you’ll regain your strength.”
She was right. Again. And again, I hated that fact. But try as I might, I couldn’t let her go. And believe me, I did try. Several times. When my body failed to follow orders, I gave in and melted against her back, prepared to enjoy the ride and take advantage of the energy being offered me. The faster I could restore some of my essence, the sooner I could ditch her anyway.
“So,” she said, having to steady her voice. Though why she was bothered, I had no idea. This was Clara. It’s not like no guy had ever had his hands up her shirt before. And I wasn’t even touching anything inappropriate. “Where are we going?”
“You know how to get to I-80 from here?”
“Yeah.”
“Take it east. We’re going home to good old Carmine, Pennsylvania.”
Clara glanced over her shoulder at me with a cocked brow. When I said nothing else, she gave her head a quick shake and gunned the motorcycle forward. The bike had more kick than I’d expected, and I was forced to hold on to Clara very tightly. I couldn’t believe I was in such an intimate position with her. I didn’t want to think about it, so I closed my eyes and focused on the feel of the wind rushing past my face and the energy that was slowly revitalizing my starving body.
We rode in silence for hours. The ride had started out tense, but after a while that tension melted away and became peaceful. The longer I held on to Clara, the more content I felt. At one point I even relaxed and began to enjoy myself. I tightened my grip around Clara’s stomach, leaned against her back, and rested my head on her shoulder, sighing deeply.
We drove for hours across Pennsylvania, and the moon had long since risen. It was probably well past ten o’clock by now. I should have been chilly, but pressed as I was against Clara’s body, I was plenty warm. I began to get drowsy from being so relaxed. I hadn’t felt this good in months. I felt so amazing, in fact, that I completely forgot whom I was holding on to and nuzzled my face in her neck simply because it felt good. She sucked in a sharp breath that made me chuckle and tempted me to let my hands wander. She was so warm, and soft, and she smelled freaking amazing.
My mouth watered at the thought of tasting her, so I indulged myself and pressed my lips to her neck. She stiffened, which made me think she liked it, so I kissed her again. And then again. Then, I started working my way up to her ear. And, let me tell you, it was nice. I hate to admit it, but my love life was pretty dang pathetic. I hadn’t kissed anyone in five months, not since I first met Grace, and right now, pressed against such a deliciously warm body, touching so much bare skin, I was more than ready to pull the bike over and have a good make-out session. Apparently my riding companion felt the same way, since she came screeching to a stop on the side of the quiet two-lane highway we were driving on. “Russ, what the hell are you doing?”
Or not. “Kissing you. Why do you sound so pissed?”
“Why are you kissing me?”
That was a good question. Why was I kissing her? I buried my face in the crook of her neck again, inhaled deeply, and then I remembered exactly why. “Mmm. Because you smell like strawberries.” I pulled the sleeve off her shoulder and pressed my lips to her skin again. “You’re yummy.”
She shivered violently, which thrilled me beyond belief and fueled my mood, but then she elbowed me in the stomach so hard I fell off the motorcycle. I didn’t even know what happened until after I hit the ground with a loud oof. “Hey! What’d you do that for?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“What?” I might have pouted at her as I rose to my feet and dusted off my pants. “You don’t like to be kissed?”
Clara’s glare was so severe I could easily make it out in the moonlight. She folded her arms tightly across her chest and said, “Not by you, you jerk. You hate me.”
I hated her? I guess that did sound vaguely familiar. “Huh. Weird.”
I tried to figure out why I would hate someone who smelled good enough to eat and rode a motorcycle, but there was some kind of disconnect in my brain at the moment that was keeping me from finding the facts I was searching for. I gave up quickly, deciding it didn’t matter. “Well, whatever. I don’t hate you right now. In fact, I think we should make out.” I stepped up to her, but when I tried to lean in for a kiss I ended up crashing foreheads with her, and burst into hysterical laughter. “Sorry. I’m seeing two of you right now. Thought I was kissing the right one, but I guess not. Why are you spinning?”
She was watching me like I’d lost my mind, and maybe I had, because I could not stop laughing.
“Oh, my gosh. You’re power drunk.”
Power drunk? Yeah, that sounded about right. Absorbing too much power too fast for too long could have funny effects on a person. “Sure. Makes se
nse. I’ve been the Sahara desert of supernatural energy for five months, and you’re like the Niagara Falls of power. I never realized you were so strong, Clare Bear. You’re almost as powerful as Ethan.”
“Guess I shouldn’t have chosen a bike for a six-and-a-half hour drive,” she muttered.
“Are you kidding? I love the motorcycle! And I feel awesome! Better than I have in months. I could probably even make magic again right now.” I snorted and grinned at Clara, trying not to laugh as I deepened my voice and playfully wriggled my eyebrows at her. “Hey, baby, you and me could make beautiful magic together.” I snickered again. Man, I’m hilarious.
Clara rolled her eyes and shook her head, but I saw her lips twitch as she turned her head away from me. After checking the GPS on her cell phone to see how much further we still had to go, she looked up at me with wary eyes and let out a heavy breath. “We still have about an hour left.”
I grinned at the thought, and she sighed. “Come on. Let’s get you home so you can sleep it off and be back to your douchey self in the morning.”
I started to climb back on the bike, but stopped when I realized what she’d said. “Douchey?” She thought I was douchey? That’s not cool.
She rolled her eyes. “Get back on the bike, Russ.”
“You really think I’m a douche?”
She raised her eyebrows high up her forehead, looking at me as if that were a trick question. “You’re the biggest douche I’ve ever known. And that’s saying something, considering I know Caleb Layton.”
My mouth fell open. “You think I’m a bigger douche than Caleb?”
When she glared at me, I leaned in close again and whispered, “I bet I can change your mind about that, Clare Bear.” Unable to help myself, I tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and whispered, “You are so beautiful.”
She made this choking sound, and her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. Surprised by her reaction, I pulled back a little. Even in the moonlight I could tell the blood had drained from her face. I didn’t understand the reaction. It’s not like I said anything outrageous. She was pretty—strawberry blonde hair, creamy skin, warm brown eyes, a killer body, and an adorable little nose. “Have I never told you how beautiful you are before?”
She swallowed, as if forcing down a box of tacks, and whispered, “Once.” Her raspy voice trembled. “A long time ago.”
I didn’t understand where the pain in her expression was coming from, but my heart ached in this strange way when her eyes glossed over. “Clara?”
She turned her head away, and when she looked back any hints of tears were gone, replaced with hatred. “Get on the damn bike, Russ!”
I did as I was told. She could be a downright scary witch when she wanted to be. I slid on behind her, tentatively reaching around her waist again. I was scared to touch her, but I had to hold on, and her power was truly addictive. My hands went right back to her waist, and I caressed her soft skin without a shred of shame.
“Russ!”
Giving Clara a squeeze, I leaned forward and spoke softly in her ear over the roar of the motorcycle. “I’ll be good, Clare Bear. Promise.” With one last chuckle, I kissed her just behind her ear and added, “Unless you want me to be naughty.”
“And you say I’m a slut. I hope you remember this tomorrow so I can rub it in your face for the rest of your life.”
Clara shook her head in disgust, then gunned the bike, flying us down the highway toward my childhood home. Guess she was in a hurry to get there.
I woke up to the sound of birds chirping and sunlight pouring in through my bedroom window, just as I’d done every morning of my life for over thirteen years. It was so natural I didn’t question why or how I was here. My brain kicked into autopilot, and I shuffled toward the shower as if to get ready for school, kicking off my shoes and stripping off my shirt as I went.
My head felt a little fuzzy, though I couldn’t figure out why since I felt like I’d just gotten the most amazing night’s sleep. Reality didn’t catch up to me until I wandered into the kitchen, wanting to turn the coffee pot on before jumping in the shower so I’d have a caffeine fix waiting for me when I was done, and saw a tangled mess of red hair sticking out from under a blanket on the living room couch. “What the heck?”
Coffee momentarily forgotten, I walked over and pulled the blanket off the lump on the couch to figure out who was sleeping in my house, and instantly regretted it. “Well, this sucks. I was hoping that bit at the train station where I agreed to let you tag along had been a nightmare.”
Clara looked at me with a new level of loathing as she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her face. She looked terrible. Her eyes were all puffy and red with big, dark circles under them, as if she’d spent the night crying instead of sleeping. “You look like crap.”
“No thanks to you, jerk,” she muttered, then glared at me. “Could you do the world a public service and put on a shirt?”
Ugh. Why did she always have to be so unpleasant? Forget what I said about lasting a week. She’d be lucky if I didn’t stab her by the end of the day. “It’s my house, wench. If you don’t like it, don’t look. Or, better yet, leave.”
Clara rose to her feet and folded the blanket she’d been sleeping with. “Nice to see you’re back to your asshat self.”
“As opposed to?” I asked as I returned to my mission of making coffee. Unfortunately, there was no coffee in the cupboards. Or any food, for that matter. The fridge was empty, too. There was an old note pinned to the fridge with magnets.
Russ,
I’ve had to leave town for a while. I don’t know what your situation is or if you’ll want to come back home, so I’ve left the utilities on just in case. I also left some cash. You know where to find it. Please call me when you’re ready. I miss you, son, and I love you.
Dad
The message was dated over four months ago. I crumpled it up and tossed it in the trash just as Clara joined me in the kitchen. “As opposed to the psycho-power-drunk you I had to deal with last night.”
Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good. For the first time since I woke up, I realized I didn’t remember anything from after about two hours into our drive here. If I was really drunk from her power, I hated to think what might have happened. Not that I drink often, but I tend to get…friendly when buzzed by alcohol. Dear angels everywhere, please let that not have been the case last night.
Clara saw the question in my eyes that I wasn’t ever planning to ask, and her face fell flat. She turned her back to me and lifted the hair off her neck. When I saw the dark purple hickey, I almost broke my no-cursing streak. I gagged just thinking about touching her. I frantically tried to remember last night. What the heck did I do? How far did things get?
“Stop panicking, you idiot. You did this to me on the drive here when I couldn’t really stop you, aside from dumping you off the back of the bike and leaving you in the middle of nowhere. But nothing else happened—not for lack of trying, on your part.”
I cringed. “I must have been really power drunk last night.”
Clara scoffed and rolled her eyes, but didn’t bother to call me out on the insult. “Go see for yourself.”
Curious, I headed for the bathroom to look in the mirror. I was shocked by what I saw staring back at me. I had more color in my cheeks, my eyes were a brighter blue, and the aura surrounding me was a hundred times brighter than it had been the day before. Since I’d learned to see auras—had it really only been a day?—I’d only gotten one good look at myself.
“Holy crap!”
Yesterday, before Ethan and I left with the girls for the mall, I’d seen my aura. It was so dim it looked like my skin had a faint glow. Now, there was this vibrant, colorful, swirling haze around me. It wasn’t as bright as any of my friends’ auras, and nowhere near Dani’s or Gabe’s blinding power, but it wasn’t much weaker than Caleb’s or Cynthia’s.
Clara appeared behind me in the mirror, curiously studying my aura. “I know. I didn�
��t think you’d bounce back so fast, either. I bet it would only take a week or so to get you back to normal, as long as we keep up the physical contact.”
Ignoring the blush in her cheeks, I turned around to face her, leaning against the bathroom sink. “This isn’t normal for me?”
Clara shook her head. Her eyes got this distant look, and a ghost of a smile crossed her face before she molded her features back into the grouchy Clara I know. “When you showed up in D.C. on Samhain, your aura was stronger than mine. You were stronger than everyone at that party, except Ethan.”
“Really?”
Clara raised an eyebrow. “Are you honestly surprised? The Devereauxes have always had strong magic, but you in particular are insanely powerful. Why do you think the council asked you to stay and join the guardians? It wasn’t any guilt they felt over ruining your life. They collect power. My mom said you’re the strongest known warlock alive right now. It’s why you and Dani were always so close, and why you and Ethan hit it off so well when Ethan never likes anyone. Power attracts power.”
Her face fell into a frown, and she glanced away from me almost as if she couldn’t bear to look at me any longer. Probably jealous of my power. Those Laroche women were all powermongers.
“Anyway,” she said with an awkward shrug of her shoulders, “I’m starving. Is there any food in this house?”
I sighed. “No. There’s not even any coffee. We’ll fix that after I shower. If you want to take one—which I totally recommend, considering the condition of your hair at the moment would frighten the simple residents of this town—there’s another bathroom in the master bedroom. But hurry, or I’ll leave your dumb butt here.”
. . . . .
Though I still couldn’t remember coming home last night, my shower helped wake me up and I realized how good I felt. I seriously curse the ground Clara walks on, but the girl had some supernatural kick to her. She’d done a supreme job of recharging my batteries. The only problem with that is that I know I’d have to continue to stay in contact with her. The thought made me want to take a long walk off a short bridge.