He carried the root to the empty side of the sink and began washing it, hissing when he put his hands in the water. “So we’re fighting snake with snake?”
“We are. I’m going to coat you in protection spells.” Something nudged the back of my mind. “Oh, I have black tourmaline stones. I’ll put the stones in the bags, too. Wait. My mother has some black felt bags stored under her bed. Those will work better. The bags, roots, stones—all in black—will triple the protection.” I wanted to jump up and down with giddiness, but I managed to keep it to a slight tap dance.
Taran stopped washing the root, laid it down on the counter and wrapped a towel around his hands. He laughed. “Damn, you are cute.”
And with that, my sense of accomplishment faded. “There you go again with that word. I may look like a cute little kid, but I’m not. And I’m smart. I know about this stuff. I even plan to study botany in college to learn more. You may think this is all nonsense, but it can’t hurt, right?” I picked up a long strip of red ribbon, the scissors and walked to him, not looking him in the face as I wrapped it around his waist.
“It will hurt me to wear a ribbon. A ribbon, Coral.”
“No, it won’t.” I frowned up at him, then snipped the band. “I’m going to attach some of the root to this and tie it into nine knots. We’ll thread it through your belt loops. You have to put your hands on it and think about what you desire while I’m doing it, okay?”
“Desire. That’s an interesting word.”
I glanced up to find him looking down my shirt. I stopped moving.
The corner of his mouth went up. “Sorry. But I’m pretty sure what you think I should be desiring and what I actually am are kind of different.”
I looked down at my extra-large red sweatshirt. I’d cut the neck out so it would drape off one shoulder. I loved it because it was so long, I could wear tights and my favorite thigh-high socks. The top gaped, but I had a tank and a long-sleeved shirt on under it—and I was not what anyone would call full-figured. Not even half-figured unfortunately. I gave him my best “get real” look and went back to messing with the ribbon.
He surprised me when he lifted my chin, his gaze moving over my features. “You really don’t believe me. Come on, you gotta know you’re hot.”
“Cute, I believe you keep saying. It’s a word that makes me think of kittens. Hot, not so much.”
“Bull.”
My eyebrows went up and I put my hands on his chest, noting that his heartbeat under my right palm was a little fast. I looked down at my hand then back up at him when he nodded.
“You think my heart’s beating like that because you’re just cute? Coral, you are hands-down the hottest girl I’ve ever met.”
I stepped back, pulling my chin away from his fingers. The knot in my stomach had nothing to do with what he was saying and everything to do with not believing him. I’d gone out with a boy once and had found out he’d done it as a dare. He’d taken out one of the weird sisters because his friends had paid him to ask me. He’d called me cute, too. I twisted the ribbon in my hands, stared down at it and wished I knew how to handle this situation. I cleared my throat, hating that it felt as if I had broken glass in it. “Let’s, um, do this belt, okay?”
He shook his head, grinning so big, both dimples popped up. “Uh-uh, told you that I’m not wearing a red ribbon around my waist.”
“I’d have used black but I can’t find it and red is the only other choice.” I crossed my arms. “Are you seriously going to tell me that you care about one ribbon when it could mean the difference between life and death?”
“Okay, okay. I’ll wear it.” He stepped back into my space. “Though how a ribbon could save my life is beyond me.”
I dropped my arms, moved back, frowning when my spine hit the wall of the kitchen.
“Coral,” he said, his tone low, insistent.
I bit my lip, twisted the ribbon in my fingers and tried to step around him because everything below my waist suddenly felt like it was made of jelly.
“Coral, look at me.” He wrapped his hands around my upper arms.
I held my breath and did as he asked, lifting my chin high, thrusting it out.
Surprise had chased away the anger he usually had in his face. “You really don’t believe me. How can you not know you’re hot? You have all this long, beautiful black hair, and you may have on some strange-looking socks, but they go all the way up over your knees and make me want to peel them down to see if your legs are even half as gorgeous as they look. You have the prettiest gray eyes I’ve ever seen, and I haven’t seen you put on any makeup, yet your lips are pink and plump. Every girl I’ve ever met had to put on some kind of goop to make hers look like that.”
I licked my lips.
He groaned. “Really? Every time you do that, it drives me crazy.” He stepped even closer, his hands tightening on my arms—not enough to hurt, but enough to keep me in place. Then he leaned into me.
My breath froze in my chest.
“Lick your lips again,” he whispered.
I didn’t even think about it, didn’t even hesitate. My tongue darted out and before I could blink, his mouth was crushing mine and he made that low, groaning sound again. His tongue touched my bottom lip and I opened my mouth on a gasp. His hands cupped my cheeks, slid back until his fingers were in my hair. He tilted my head where he wanted it. It was just the kind of kiss I’d imagined. Hot, carnal and commanding, and I reached up to hang on to his forearms. I should have pushed him back, not let him just...take over...like this, but I was too busy trying to wrestle my thoughts back into some semblance of order.
And stand.
Then it didn’t matter what my brain wanted to do because my body pushed up into his, and I wrapped my arms tight around his neck. I stood on my toes so I could get as close as possible. He made that noise again, the one I was really starting to love, and actually lifted me—though I could tell it was still carefully—off my feet, holding me to the wall, pressing in with his body. Fire scorched along every part of me, made me gasp.
Taran took the kiss deeper.
“Hey, do you mind if Grim and I get some more food beca—whoa.”
Taran immediately stepped back, breathing hard, staring at me like he could see all the way into my soul. He slowly set me on my feet, but left his hands on my hips. The heat generated between us was better than the pitiful output of the camp heaters in my living room.
“Whoa. That looked...” Josh cleared his throat, his face the color of a tomato. “Sorry I interrupted.” He backed out of the kitchen. Fast.
Taran stared at me, then leaned down to whisper in my ear. “I wasn’t even close to done. We’re gonna pick that back up. Soon.”
* * *
I had crawled under my mother’s bed when Taran decided it was soon. He touched the back of my leg and I jerked my head up, slamming it on a board.
“Oh man, sorry.” Taran grabbed my ankles and tugged me from under the bed. Again, I was struck by his strength because it felt like a light tug on his end, yet my body slid out as if I was on wheels. I sat up, rubbing my head, then pushed my hair out of my face.
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, kneeling to rub his hands on my arms. “It’s freezing. Why don’t you come into the room with the heaters?”
“I will. I’m trying to find whatever my mother is using to—” I broke off and sighed, because it was the only thing that made sense. I took a deep breath, stared at him. “I’m looking for whatever my mother is using to get your hammer away from you. She used to stash the bad spell books under the bed.” I rolled my eyes. “Like kids never look there. I saw some when I grabbed those black bags earlier.”
“So now you do think it’s your mother.”
“I think we’d better assume it is at this point. I had a vision of a boy getting hurt—one on a
pier—and unfortunately, I didn’t see who did it. If I could smell in my visions, I would have known.”
“The lavender.” He nodded. “That’s the awful smell in here, isn’t it? My hammer didn’t smell this bad.”
I nodded. “That’s because lavender has soaked into everything in her room. But I think some of her potpourri has gone bad because something smells rotten.” I wrinkled my nose. “I can barely stand this room. My sisters and I all equate the smell with bad, so I figured my tolerance was low.”
“No, it’s bad.” He looked around and I wondered what he thought. My mother had a lot of things crammed in here. Books, candles and strange knickknacks. We never had room for this stuff when we were on the move so it was like she’d tried to make up for it in the months we’d been in this rented house.
The stacks of printouts against the wall had names of kids she thought were carrying souls—the ones who’d made the news or talked about strange differences on blogs. Raven, Kat and I had put them into boxes before they’d left. Our norns had let us know when we’d picked the right warriors, but mom had been searching for months, so there were probably hundreds of correct guesses. All the teens in those stories could carry souls. Could be like Magnus. Headed somewhere.
We needed to know where.
Brown eyes, sharp features and dimples appeared in front of my face. Taran winked. “Where’d you go? You’re thinking so hard, your forehead is all scrunched up.”
I quickly unscrunched. “I think all the messages coming from my norn have to do with Ragnarok.”
“That would make sense with, you know, the snow and the wave.”
“I had a vision earlier during my rune tempus. I saw giants crawling out of cracks in the ground.” I shivered and it had nothing to do with how cold it was in this room. “They’re scary looking. And huge.”
“Huge and giants kind of go together.”
I knew he was trying for some levity, but it wasn’t working. Not now. “I think you’re going to have to fight them.” I got off the floor because the chill was worse there and crawled on my mom’s bed. She had it shoved against the wall, so I scooted back until my spine was against the wall. I pulled her blanket over me. The thought of Taran fighting those massive, muscled, white-haired creatures made me want to take him somewhere safe. But I couldn’t. He had his fate to fulfill just as we all did.
And because everything else was coming true, it was possible he would be the one responsible for my death. I stared at him, noting that his anger was gone again. If he ended up being responsible for my death, it would be by accident. I knew that as surely as I knew my own norn was doing her best to try to coexist with me. She shifted as if agreeing.
Taran crawled onto the bed to sit next to me, and I wanted to ask my norn to go away for a few minutes because my stomach started doing flips. I wanted to kiss him again, see if it felt as crazy and wild and wonderful again—if it felt like that every time. And I didn’t want an audience.
“What is going on in that pretty head of yours? You have all these changing expressions. It’s kind of fun to watch, but I’m feeling left out. Is it about me fighting giants?”
“Some of it, yeah. And more. There’s so much to take in, and if there is really going to be a battle, you’re going to need your hammer badly. I need to figure out what my mother is doing. How she’s getting it. It has to be a spell and I’m thinking it’s some kind of reversal spell or summoning spell. The problem is, I only know about spells used to summon things that are alive like ghosts, elves, things like that.”
“You can summon elves?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried. And now I don’t want to. Have you tried wishing for your hammer again? I saw you doing it in the hotel room.”
“I have, but it makes me feel really stupid. I’m not sure what I did differently that first time.”
I pulled the blanket up to my chin. “I need to go back into the sunroom and dig around. I’m sure my mom had to have left some sort of clue.”
He pressed the side of his leg against mine. “That room is like being outside. Why don’t you wait until tomorrow and we can put one of those heaters in there to warm it first. I’ll help you look.”
I grinned. “Would you even know what to look for?”
“Nope. I’d be pointing. Is this plant it? Does this plant do evil things?”
I lowered the blanket and smacked his arm playfully. “No plants do evil things. Plants aren’t evil. It’s just the people who use them who sometimes do the bad things.” I laughed. “We sound like we’re talking about guns. I do feel differently about those.”
“Speaking of bad things.” He got up and closed the door, then came back to the bed.
My eyebrows went halfway into my hairline. Bad things? What did he mean by that? Was he talking about doing intimate things? My hands started to shake a little under the blanket.
He settled next to me, reached under the blanket and took my hand. I nearly closed my eyes over the welcome warmth that flowed into my skin. He looked at our hands, something in his expression making my stomach knot up. “I like that I can touch you. I’m trying hard not to hurt you.”
“Taran, you haven’t hurt me once. And I don’t think you need to worry about it so much. It’s really not a bad thing—your strength, that is.”
“That’s not what I meant about bad things.” He gently traced one of my fingers. “I don’t know if I should tell you this.”
Oh, he really had meant bad things.
He looked at me through a fall of blond bangs. “You know that dark elf we saw? Every now and then, when I’m looking at something else, and I see you out of the corner of my eye...you kind of look a little pointy like that thing.”
My heart stopped. “I look what?”
“Your chin and ears look a little pointy. I can’t seem to catch it other than as a glimpse and it’s only happened twice, but a couple of times, you kind of looked like maybe...well, you looked like you could be related to those things.”
Just the idea filled me with horror. I let go of his hand, shook my head.
“Hey...” He turned and cradled my face in his hands. “I’m probably wrong. But it happened earlier and it worried me.” He took a deep breath and surprised me when he gently kissed my chin. “Looks like a normal, but unusually pretty chin now.” He pulled back, smiled.
My heart still pounded from a mix of crazy emotion. Fear over what he meant and nerves over the kiss.
“Taran, I can’t be related to an elf. Think about it.”
“I have. Since I first caught the resemblance out of the corner of my eye.”
The room started to spin and it was not a rune tempus spin. It was an “I’m going to throw up” kind of spin. I suddenly pictured that thing in the restaurant...the way it looked at me. The utter fascination. I moaned.
“Hey, Coral. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
My hair swung about my face as I shook my head. Hard. “Yeah, you should. You should tell me everything just like I’ll tell you everything from here on out. I won’t hide something like the poison again, and you promise to tell me if you see me looking...looking weird again. Oh my gods, just the thought. I mean what if my sisters and I are somehow related to that thing? What could it mean?” I shoved my fingers into my hair. “I need to call my sisters.”
“Okay. Shit. I’m so sorry I said anything. Look.” He pulled my hands down and turned my face to his. “Just so you know, I don’t care what weird blood you may or may not have in your family tree. We both apparently have odd stuff going on there. I don’t care if you look a little pointy, and maybe I was just tripping out or something because the world has kind of gone crazy, you know?”
I nodded, blinked up at him. Shadows from the flickering fire in the oil lamp danced along the wall behind his head. Suddenly, I d
idn’t want to think about Ragnarok or stupid dark elves or anything else.
And apparently neither did he because it felt as if the air changed around us. Like it sort of snapped and popped with electricity.
My palms started to sweat. I surreptitiously wiped them on my tights and socks under the blanket. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to say something, anything that would break the suddenly thick air between us. But I couldn’t get my words to form. All I could do was stare at him like a ninny and lick my suddenly dry lips. It was like my tongue worked as a beacon because his gaze dropped to my mouth and in the next second, his mouth was on me. He kissed the corner of my lips, kissed my bottom lip. He softly licked the seam of my lips, and everything below my waist went hot. I opened my mouth and he stroked his tongue a little deeper.
It was as if he’d shocked me with that current or something, because in the next second, I dropped the blanket to grab onto his shirt and pull him closer. I opened my mouth, inviting him to taste even as I tasted him. I touched his teeth with my tongue and his groan vibrated against my lips. I sucked on his bottom lip the way he’d done to me, and then I gasped when he suddenly went into motion. Before I could get air back into my lungs, I was flat on my back and the blanket was over both of us and he was on me.
On. Me.
He felt warm and strong and my stomach was going kind of crazy with nerves. Not only my stomach, either. My hands and legs started to shake because I liked him—I liked him a lot—and he felt better against me than I’d imagined he would, but I was suddenly a little afraid at how far he expected me to go.
“Taran?”
“Yeah,” he whispered between one kiss and the next. Soft, drugging kisses that went from chaste to deep, and back.
I started to feel dizzy, and I started to think that maybe I was ready for more after all. But a big part of me was scared.
He must have sensed some of what was going on in my brain because he pulled back. “You okay?”
I nodded, then shook my head.
“Sorry.” He started to pull away from me, but I wrapped my arms around him.
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