“If we don’t, Stephen will. He’ll try on his own.” Zander was right. The boy was all about saving his Mom. He talked about it day and night. Like it was his sole purpose for being.
“I know, you’re right.” Grayce slouched. “I left her in California. We used to move. All the fucking time. She could be anywhere. Dead for all we know.” Shaking her head, she tried to imagine what her brother’s life must have been like, watching his mother jump from man to man, crappy home to crappy home. “It’s a miracle that Stephen found us. A boy his age left to fend for himself—”
Marcus interjected. “No not a miracle. He was drawn to us, just like we were drawn to you, Grayce. I think the little guy is right when he says the bad guys are coming. A storm is brewing. It’s drawing us together. You can feel it Chelsea, can’t you? That’s why you cut him off.”
Chelsea sighed deep and slow, her cheerful countenance morphing to a scowl. “Yes. I’ve sensed something. Something dark. It’s not just Tyr Collins. I have a feeling this is only the beginning.”
13
The grass was soft and wet under Grayce’s backside, the cool moisture a balm on her heated skin. She’d enjoyed her morning traipse near the newly relocated lake with Zander and Stephen. Would even venture to say she’d had fun. Upon their return, the boys, as usual, made a beeline for the kitchen. Grayce stole the opportunity to stretch in her favorite patch of lawn and enjoy some testosterone free time.
Emotion churned through her in rolling waves of contradiction as she pondered the past few weeks. Rage. Contentment. Fear. Apathy. Lust.
It was amazing her head hadn’t exploded yet. Yeah, super glue and duct tape had nothing on her when it came to holding shit together, the few bouts of nearly burning everyone alive excluded.
In the past week, no more women had been found dead or reported missing. John Houghton was no longer making national headlines. Maybe Zander scared Tyr off.
Okay. So she wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that was the case. Too easy.
Regardless, she’d had more time to process the turn of events in her life. First, there was her power, which would be freaking awesome if she could control the urge to incinerate everyone who pissed her off. And hey, she could be helpful if they ever ran out of matches in the house. Then there was Stephen. An innocent child who escaped an incapable mother only to land in the hands of an unqualified sister. Thank God for Chelsea. She was like the mother of all mothers. Stern when she needed to be, adoring and encouraging every other second of the day. Third, a new home filled with every amenity imaginable and came stocked with an instant family. That was still blowing her mind.
Last, and definitely not least, Zander.
What would she do about Zander? He was a good man. He loved her. At least he thought he did.
Was she even capable of that emotion? Zander was getting the raw end of the deal in that department. He needed to be with someone who could love him back, right?
Soul mates—there was that too. Eternity was a long fucking time to be stuck with someone. Seemed a bit unfair. What if her un-repairable, screwed up psyche wasn’t capable of hanging with a man for that long? Would she die from withdrawals if she left? Would it kill Zander?
She uprooted a fistful of grass and tossed it in the air. Maybe she should leave and never look back. Disappear for Zander’s sake. He needed, no deserved, so much more than she could offer. Surrounded by friends and family, he beamed with genuine happiness. And he was so amazing with Stephen, a natural father.
The man was born to breed.
Tyr made sure that Grayce would never bear children. That alone should be enough to make Zander reconsider their eternity together.
No, he was far too honorable to let her infertility be an issue.
Tyr wasn’t gone. He lurked in the dark shadows and bided his time.
Zander wouldn’t let her kill the black beast, but she sure as hell wouldn’t let the burden fall on his shoulders. She’d have to disappear. It was the best option. Tyr would follow her, then everyone in Chastain would be out of danger. With her new found power, there wasn’t a doubt in her mind she could take him down.
Could she put Zander through that kind of pain? Not just emotional, but physical? She could bear the withdrawals. They had nothing on the pain she’d suffered. But was it fair to inflict that pain on Zander?
If it meant no more Tyr, hell yeah, it was fair.
Stephen? Everyone loved the hell out of him and would lay down their own lives for his safety. The funny little brat completed their makeshift family, like he’d been part of it all along.
Was she capable of offering him all he needed?
No.
Besides, if he stayed, he’d grow up learning how to be a decent man like Zander. Grayce couldn’t teach him how to be a man. Hell, chances were she’d screw up his brain with her fuckedupness. Her hatred of men would, without doubt, have an effect on their relationship. Food on the table? Safe place to sleep? Nah, wasn’t gonna happen. The boy was far better off without her.
There had to be a way around this.
What was Nikolas’ theory on the mated connection? Blood? Yes, that was it. It has something to do with our blood, although we haven’t been able to pin it down. He had explained in dummied-down terms for her one day in the lab when she had complained about the withdrawals.
Oh shit. It couldn’t be that easy, could it?
Her blood.
That settled it. Grayce jumped from the spongy grass and headed back inside.
* * * *
After clearing the lunch mess, Stephen challenged Zander to some Mario Kart Racing. With his devilish, sexy grin, Zander invited Grayce to join them. Pretending to be put off, she rolled her eyes and waved them off. “Go have fun. I’m going to take a nap.”
“I’m taking you down this time, little man.” Zander threw Stephen over his shoulder and jogged toward the game room. “I’ll see you soon, Firecracker,” he shouted. Stephen giggled and waved as he bounced away.
Well, that was easy.
Grayce waited until they were out of sight, then snuck down the back stairs to the lab. Thank God she’d been programmed into the security system last week. She searched the stark white walls trying to remember which panel held the vials of blood.
Bingo.
Four was the magic number.
Keeping one eye on the door, she searched the labels for her name and grabbed the vial with the most recent date. She tucked the little glass bottle into her pocket with a shaky hand. A bead of sweat tickled her brow. Heat and electricity pounded against her insides. Begged to be released. Fuck. This had to be quick.
The distance to the bedroom seemed like miles. Heart pounding, throat tight, she dug through Zander’s drawers. Because of the ferocious tremble in her hands, it took eons to find what she was looking for.
A gold, heart-shaped locket. Zander showed it to Grayce a few days ago after a marathon sex session. He must have been feeling sentimental. Inside was a picture of Zander’s parents taken on their wedding day. His father had given it to his mother on their tenth anniversary. The one item of his mother’s he’d kept after they were killed.
Grayce had told him it was sappy, but deep down she was jealous of his cherished memories. She removed the photo and tucked it in the back of the drawer. It was the picture he held dear, not the jewelry.
The bathroom shrunk around her as she locked herself in. “Please forgive me,” she whispered under her breath. It took a tender touch to pry the vial open without breaking it. The blood dripped slow and thick into one half of the heart shape. After it was filled to her satisfaction, she closed the locket and laid it on the tile.
The red energy took several long moments to conjure. When it boiled through her veins and churned in anticipation, she took a practice run and traced the outer edge of the locket. She traced the rim again, allowing a zap of heat to escape through her fingertip. Slow and steady she dragged it around the seam, melting the gold and sealing it tig
ht.
There, that should do it. The half empty bottle of blood was wrapped in toilet tissue and placed in the trashcan. A pang of guilt squeezed her chest.
No time for cheesy emotions.
This was best for everyone, she reminded herself. She undressed, placed the locket under her pillow and waited. Zander would be along soon. He couldn’t leave her side for too long. Her body was already flushed and warm with the thought of making love—no, no, no—fucking him. Her gut clenched with a violent twist. This was going to be their last time. She rubbed away the threatening tears.
Leaving was the right thing to do. She was a disaster and he was perfect. He needed somebody equally flawless. She imagined him with a wife, kid and a ridiculous dog. Labradoodle perhaps. His bitch of a wife would be tall and blond. They’d picnic. He’d have a young, blue-eyed boy sitting on his lap. Happy and laughing. That’s how it should be. He deserved that life.
Tyr would follow her, no more women would die, and she’d kill him. Simple.
Grayce jumped when the door slammed and before she turned to look, Zander was sprawled naked by her side.
“Firecracker, had I’d known you’d be here like this, I would’ve cut my gaming session short.” He trailed his finger down the length of her scar and back up. Prickles of burning heat followed its path.
“Do you like dogs?” She rubbed his scar. He quivered under her touch.
“Not particularly fond of them, why?” He chuckled. “You want a dog, baby?”
“Hell no. Just curious.”
* * * *
Zander had wrapped a protective arm and leg around Grayce and succumbed to a deep sleep. She waited. And waited.
When his soft shallow breaths became deep and steady and the weight of his body melted into the mattress, she inched her way out from under his heavy arm.
She retrieved the necklace from under the pillow and wrapped it twice around his wrist before clasping it. Her fingers lingered over the thick veins of his wrist. A pounding ache swelled in her chest as her heart beat in time with the pulse beneath her fingertips. Only when she’d memorized the rhythm of blood flow drumming through the blue vessels beneath his skin did she release him.
The letter was harder to let go. She’d pained over it earlier, and now clutched it to her chest like a precious gem. Would it matter? She was leaving. Would her words matter when she’d all but ripped his heart out of his chest, chewed and spit it out like a wad of gum?
Not in the slightest. But he deserved an explanation, pathetic as it may be.
She laid it on the dresser, put her clothes on in a frenzy and threw her backpack over her shoulder.
She stole one last look at his naked physique. His shoulders spanned half the bed and caramel skin stretched over mounds of fierce, commanding, indestructible power. Unlike Tyr, Zander chose not to exploit his gift for his own gain. Instead, it was used to protect and worship her.
She was walking away.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and closed the door behind her. Her legs didn’t move until she once again convinced herself that she was doing this for him.
* * * *
Grayce trekked through the forest, confident she was headed in the right direction. Well, at least fifty percent sure. Her immediate goal was to put as much distance as possible between her and the house. Sure, she could’ve taken one of their vehicles and driven away, but it was safe to assume they were equipped with high tech tracking devices. A chance she wasn’t willing to take.
If her theory was correct, the blood she’d left with Zander would prevent him from waking from withdrawals. He was sleeping like a baby when she left, wearing a shit-eating grin, thank-you-very-much. There should be plenty of time to either hike or thumb a ride far enough away that it would be impossible for Zander to find her.
Needle in a haystack.
If she did make it to town, her hot wiring skills were rusty, but she should be able to procure a vehicle and get herself the hell out of Dodge easy enough.
Fuck, he was going to be mad.
Her heart wrenched at the thought of causing him pain.
He loves me. She shook the thought from her head. Grayce didn’t do love. This was the best thing she could do for him and for Stephen.
She put her headphones on, hoping the music would drown the voices in her head. Bastards were trying to change her mind.
The feeling she was being followed turned into a nag, then a relentless pounding rhythm between her ears. She needed to get further away. Her jog morphed into a full on sprint.
It was only a matter of time until withdrawals kicked in. Although she deserved to suffer, with luck, she’d be able to push through them. The running should help. Concentrating on the music, she tried to keep pace with the tempo and ignore the branches that whipped her face and legs.
Keep going, keep going.
Eminem’s “Shake That” played on repeat to remind her how much she hated men and to push her harder. Running full force, Grayce wasn’t out of breath or the slightest bit fatigued. She looked down.
Holy shit.
Her body glowed and the ground passed under her feet in a blur. She couldn’t fathom how she traveled so fast, but who was she to question the gift?
At this rate, she’d be in another state before Zander woke up. Hopefully, tracking your lover wasn’t a perk of being bonded. That would suck for her. Up ahead, she spotted a hunting cabin. It was small, weathered and judging by its dilapidated appearance, abandoned. She screeched to a halt before tripping over a shorthaired pointer stretched on his back with paws in the air. The dog jumped to attention and pounced toward her with tail wagging and tongue flopping.
“Hi there fella.” Grayce squatted and held out a hand, palm up, toward the creature. A quick sniff and lick, then he pushed his hind quarters into her thigh, begging for a good rub.
The snap of a twig had her hairs standing on end. Jerking around, she fell on her ass. The pooch, unconcerned about the sound, made quick work of licking her wherever he could find bare skin.
“Stop.” The harder she pushed him away, the more determined he became to climb in her lap. After managing to push herself up, she scoured the tree line. Someone or something was coming her way.
Zander. Seriously? How did he find her? Her thighs coiled to run.
“Grayce.” A small voice called out. “Grayce, wait.”
Shit.
Straightening her back, she looked over her shoulder. Stephen huffed and puffed. “Where are you going?” Heartbreak riddled his dirty little face.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. As he approached, she dropped to her knees and grabbed his arms. “Did you follow me?”
He nodded, still gasping for air.
“From the house? You followed me from the house?”
He nodded, mouth open wide to draw oxygen.
“How in the hell did you keep up?”
“I don’t know. I saw you leave and I wanted to go with you. I was calling you, but you didn’t hear me.” Tears bubbled over, forging streaks through the dirt on his skin. “I thought you were running away. You kept going faster so I kept going faster.”
Grayce dropped to her ass in the dirt and pulled him next to her. The happy fleabag licked Stephen’s face and plopped down at his side.
“Well, this sure screws up my plans.” She picked up a rock and threw it at the cabin.
“Where are you going?” By the intensity of his tears, Grayce was certain he already knew the answer.
No use trying to hide the truth. Maybe it was better he heard it from her than anybody else. “I’m leaving, Stephen. I can’t stay here.” Can’t stay anywhere for that matter.
He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “I’ll come with you.”
“No.” Grayce shook her head. “I can’t promise you’ll be safe. I can’t feed you or give you a home to live in.” It would be even worse with her than it had been with their mother. He was so young. How could she make him unders
tand?
“But I can keep you safe,” he stated. “Zander said it’s our job to keep you and Chelsea safe. I’m your brother. I should go with you.” He gazed at her as a father would his child, with imploring wisdom, like his was the only acceptable truth.
Her eyes blurred with the sting of his words. Of course he would see it that way. He’d been learning from the best. She pulled him into her arms. “You are such an amazing little man. Don’t ever change. Promise me.” She kissed his sweaty head and they sat like that until Stephen’s sobs slowed.
Now what? How was she going to get out of this one? Her phone buzzed against her left butt cheek. Great, that will be Zander, she thought. The buzzing stopped and the ringing started.
Knowing the opportunity for escape had passed, she groaned and stood to pull the phone from her back pocket. Stephen snatched her free hand and held it tight. She squeezed back to let him know she wasn’t going to bolt again.
With trembling hands she pushed the accept button. “Hi.”
“Fucking hell, Grayce. Where are you? What the hell were you thinking?” His tone was fierce, deadly even, with the slightest undertone of fear. How did he know? She’d been gone for what? Maybe twenty minutes?
She sighed in defeat.
“You’re scaring the shit out of me right now. Where are you?” he asked with a growl.
Her skin prickled, not from fear but with shame for what she’d done. That, and embarrassment for not getting away with it.
“I’m sorry, Zander.”
* * * *
Sweat beaded his forehead. Tremors of rage made it difficult to hold the phone without reducing it to dust. Zander grabbed the bedpost with his free hand and snapped it like a twig.
Well, that didn’t help.
He hurled the entire bed through the window, out across the lawn. A blast of fresh air blew across his skin.
That was more like it.
“Fuck the apologies right now. Where are you?” He paced the room, ready to dash as soon as she told him which way to go. Looking down, he realized he hadn’t dressed yet. Shit. He grabbed his boxers off the floor and pulled them on, trying not to fall over.
Aflame (Apotheosis) Page 20