He carried Julia back to her room, his soul as heavy as a ton of lead.
*
Julia
William had been fairly quiet since the scene in the dining hall the week before, and Julia was glad. She thought the ache for him would never end. But fortunately, day by day, it lessened. She didn't want to be tied to the blood drinker. That was what he was—all he was.
He and Pierce lingered in the hall, speaking in covert whispers as she dabbed at the corners of her mouth, bread half-eaten in front of her.
The dreams had started again and, with them, her long-lost friend, headache. She sighed, rubbing her temples.
William and Pierce were suddenly beside her. “Are you ill, Julia?”
She glared up at the pair. A prudent girl with half a brain would have been scared of the vampires—they were deadly and menacing. But she didn't care about her welfare anymore, or her future. She wasn't interested in being taken anywhere with vampires.
“No, I'm fine.” She looked at them impassively.
Pierce stared a moment more then turned to William. “Perhaps her awakening has begun.”
Julia had thought she was about done with the revelations.
“Possibly,” William said thoughtfully.
“What?” Julia asked, standing, hugging herself to stay warm. She looked up at the pair, such a contrast to each other. They were huge men—vampires, Julia self-corrected. She gulped back a sudden stab of fear.
“Rare Ones go through a…” William struggled for just the right word.
“Transition?” Pierce supplied.
Julia's brows jacked down over her eyes and she said, “Haven't you two kidnapped Blood Singers before?”
William's expression darkened at her terminology. But Julia remained steadfast. It was what it was.
“We have acquired some of Rare One lineage but never a pureblood. Never once,” Pierce said.
“Adolescence!” William said triumphantly, remembering the word.
William's expression darkened at her terminology. But Julia remained steadfast. It was kidnapping, no matter what they called it.
What the hell? “Look guys,” she said, and they turned their simultaneous attention unnervingly on her.
Julia stepped back, but realizing it made her look weak, she moved back toward them again. “I am clearly a woman. Fully grown, guys.” She ran a hand down the front of her body, and the vampires tracked it. She was immediately embarrassed but bottled it up before they noticed. She rushed on before they could comment. “What I'm saying is I went through adolescence years ago. I am done with all that,” Julia said waving away their weird ideas with a hand.
Pierce shook his head, and William said, “No. The Rare One comes of age much later than one that is just a Blood Singer. The purer you are, the greater the manifestation of your latent talents.”
Julia's eyes shifted back and forth between the two of them. “What talents?” she asked slowly.
William paused then dropped the bomb. “Paranormal talents.”
Julia's hand whipped out and gripped the table that stood behind her. The hell with not appearing weak. She backed up until her thighs pressed against the bench.
Insane vampires. It wasn't enough that there were such things as vampires. These ones were crazy-ass-loon vampires.
It just kept getting better and better.
Julia despaired.
“Are you having headaches?” Pierce pressed.
“Precognitive dreams?” William asked silkily.
Julia's head snapped up and she locked into William's silver gaze. She shook her head. She would not be their stupid Blood Singer messiah or whatever the hell they were looking for. She redoubled her determination to escape.
Soon.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Graduation
It was cool, the air holding none of the heat that would be found in other parts of America. Here at latitude fifty-nine, late May meant maybe sixty degrees. Maybe.
Today the temperature was a cool fifty-eight. Intermittent clouds floated overhead, and the breeze from the Homer Spit had made its way to the high school, slowed but not beaten.
Julia looked away from the valedictorian, who was expounding on the benefits of altruistic endeavors.
It was all bullshit, spoken through the bullhorn of what she could gain by making a good impression on whoever was listening. Julia swung her leg restlessly until Jason stilled her with a hand on her knee. He looked at her. “It'll be okay. Just today, and then we're free.”
The girl droned on. The guys got a fine sheen of sweat over their brows—all that satiny polyester was causing a greenhouse effect.
Finally, the staff herded them through the line, and they shook hands, stood for pictures, and ate the celebratory cake. It was anticlimactic.
It only served to underscore that uneasy feeling Julia had—as if she were waiting. She'd had this feeling ever since the Terrell incident.
Death, she corrected herself.
She had felt a portent, a feeling of impending doom. It felt like a ticking time bomb. Her sleep was leaving her these days and nightmares were taking up residence in its absence.
She was exhausted. Jason said he was worried about her.
If that weren't enough, there was the impending trial. If a jury of Jason's peers found him not guilty in the death of Terrell, then he was free. Unfortunately, because of the nature of how he had… killed Terrell, he had a mandatory six weeks of anger-management classes. And of course, he was angry about the classes.
Total irony.
The Caldwells had not really forgiven Jason for making them look “bad” by killing Terrell. Even Detective Truman had defended Jason, saying he'd saved lives. Of course, what the Caldwells weren't telling Truman was that Julia's life was not that important to them. It hurt, but Julia had to stay focused on her future with Jason.
When the lame reception was over, they drove to Julia's house so she could change. Soon, they'd head to the beach with Kevin and Cyn.
Julia opened the door, Jason behind her. He'd been so quiet in the car. She knew something was on his mind.
Seeing that Lily wasn't home from work yet she walked to her room. She tore open her closet door and chucked out her beach jeans, T-shirt, and the faded, battered Salty Dawg Saloon hoodie. It was her most beat-up one, but she loved it. She'd bribed a tourist one summer to go in there and get one for her. It was a Homer landmark, a cabin from 1897 that had grown into a rough and tumble tavern.
She pressed the hoodie against her face, inhaling the fragrant laundry soap Lily used, and a pang of homesickness struck her. I'm really going, she thought, a little forlorn. Just six short weeks until Vegas.
Jason came up behind Julia and wrapped his arms around her, the graduation gowns wrapping and mingling together around their legs. “It's not like she's gonna die. You can come back and visit her, Jules.”
Julia nodded silently. She understood that. She did.
But there would be no one, no family to see her get married, no one to appreciate her husband. Just Lily. And Lily was bitter—Julia knew that. Lily had gotten saddled with her brother's kid, and that had been a stain on her heart, spreading and filling her with resentment.
Jason kissed Julia's temple, his lips hovering above her skin like butterfly wings, fragile but present. She leaned back against him. He turned her and slowly lifted the gown, the rasping of the satin catching on the fine strands of hair that had escaped the clasp she'd secured it in. He tossed it aside and tore his gown off, letting it fall to the floor at his feet.
He gathered Julia in his arms and kissed her, pressing his lips to hers with heat. His lips moved over hers with pressure and longing, combining in a succulent pull. Julia's mouth opened, and her arms slid around his broad shoulders, the muscles bunching as he pressed her closer. She gave a little moan, and he moved them backward, where they fell softly on her bed. He broke the kiss when they landed, his elbows braced on either side of her body.
&
nbsp; “I can't wait to make you mine, Julia,” he said, dipping to kiss her temple again. His lips slid from that point, making a blazing trail down her jaw, then a sideways path to her mouth.
He lingered there, scooping her long hair from where it was pinned underneath her, fanning it out behind her. Jason slid her farther on the bed, falling to the side of her. He cupped her face and pecked her lips again. Searching her face, he saw the lingering anxiety there. “Lily'll come around. You'll see.”
“She may not. But even though she took me in and saved me from the system, it wasn't her choice.”
Speak of the devil.
Julia heard Lily buzz into the house and start clanking around in the kitchen—supper preparation. Julia wasn't that interested. Eating hadn't been a big priority since Terrell. She'd never been an emotional eater. When stuff got intense, food lost its appeal.
“Come on.” Jason kissed her again then kissed her once more on that tender spot between her earlobe and her collarbone. She smiled, a little breathless. She knew some guys would have been trying to attack the obvious, but not Jason. He really loved her. He wanted her, but he wanted her for the right reasons.
Jason was the man for her.
*
Later
Right away, Julia knew she should have worn a puffy over the top of her hoodie. She sighed, stepping out of Jason's big truck, the lift kit making the whole thing a hike to get in and out of.
She gave a scoot and a hop and got out before Jason could meet her on the other side.
He came around and closed the door for her. “You should have waited for me. I'd have gotten you down.” His lips turned up.
“I bet you would, pervert!” Julia teased as Cyn and Kevin walked up.
Kevin smirked, “I hear ʻpervert.ʼ Must be Caldwell here.”
“Thanks for the support, Kev,” Jason said.
He grinned, shrugging. “Welcome.”
Cyn smiled at Julia, taking in the XtraTufs and hoodie uniform. Cynthia was wearing her Ugg boots. Stylish to most, ugly to Julia.
“Well, I see you are consistent,” Cyn said in her droll way.
“Don't start. I didn't want to suffer through any more unwanted clothing.”
Cyn rolled her eyes. “I did see you barely making it through the ceremony. Couldn't you have faked it?”
“Hell no! I didn't like any of the teachers, and after the Terrell thing…” She immediately felt terrible. Her friends had been there, too, and here she was bringing it up.
“Sorry guys,” Julia mumbled, bowing her head a little and letting her long hair form a curtain to hide her expression.
That had been beyond stupid. She could have kicked her own ass. Miss Sensitive.
Jason put a finger underneath her chin, tilting it so their eyes met. “Don't be sorry, Jules. All of us were there. It was me that killed him,” he said in a low voice. “Ask me if I feel bad?”
She swallowed, her mouth dry. “Do you feel bad?”
He shook his head, solemn. “No.”
“Hell, Jules. You were in that psycho's crosshairs. Caldwell had to do it.” Kevin spread his arms away from his body. He wore a T-shirt that read, Zombie Bait.
Cynthia looked at Julia with sympathy. They'd been friends for years. Cyn understood that Julia didn't want to feel responsible for any accidents, especially after her parents.
Especially that.
Cyn reached out and put a chunk of hair behind Jules's ear. “Don't sweat that creeper, Jules. It wasn't your fault that he died. Just because someone dies when you're around, doesn't mean you have to take the death on as your fault. That's crap and you know it.” Cyn dipped down a little until she was eye level with Julia. “Are you hearing me?”
“Yeah,” Julia whispered. She was so lucky to have these guys. Unshed tears burned the back of her eyelids. Tears were for sissies. She sucked it up, hugging Cyn with one arm and flinging the other around Jason, her hand finding the middle of his back. It was where she could reach him. He cuddled her as they did an awkward shamble to the bonfire that Kevin had built. The heat washed over her like a wave of comfort and serenity that was too brief.
Her peace was too brief.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Seattle
Pierce and William had deemed her ready. Ready for travel, ready for the final leg of their journey.
They were headed to William's home coven in Seattle.
Julia was ready too. She only had the smallest amount of guilt. After all, if Julia were to face her memories, she'd have to wallow in them, explore them, and reconcile herself to the fact that it was not William and Pierce who'd killed Jason. Those two had been too late to stop it from happening.
She would not let sentiment cloud her plan. But the memory began to play out like the nightmare it was. Julia felt the heat begin at her toes and roar up her body as if she were a lone tree in a forest on fire. Her heart was beating rapidly, her palms sweating, and her breath coming in great whoops. She had to calm down before she had a full-blown panic attack. That always got the complete attention of the vampires.
She didn't want their attention ever again.
Julia slowed her breathing, shoving the horrible memory down in the well of her subconscious. It would come again—it always did, in the silent and unguarded moments of her wakefulness. It would surge forward like the tide to shore. She waited until her hands had only a fine tremble then picked up her bag.
Turning, she looked one more time at her temporary home. She sighed, closing the door behind her. Julia suddenly realized what day it was.
Over a year had passed since her precious Jason had been ripped from her life—torn from her soul, leaving it shredded within her body.
She moved down the hall, seeing the two runners who waited so still against the exit.
Waiting for her—their prize.
But not for long, Julia thought, working hard to suppress a smile.
She moved forward and they fell into step beside her, leaving the house behind them forever.
*
Imagine the logistics of traveling with vampires. If it hadn't been her reality, Julia would have thought it was funny as hell.
But it wasn't funny.
They had driven up the highway to the Anchorage Airport, gotten on the plane—"red-eye flight" taking on new meaning—and flown the lonely journey to Seattle.
Once in Seattle, she had a small window of time in which to escape the runners. They were already in the city where the coven was located, but she didn't know how she would shake them before they arrived. Especially when William's blood was still in her body—diluted but there, like a pulse. It would be a navigation tool.
Julia caressed her bag. The hair dye and change of clothes were hidden inside. She smiled. It might work, but only if Pierce was the one nearby. If William was there, all hope was lost. She had another lapse of guilt, thinking back to her conversation with William.
*
On the plane, William had looked at her, and Julia had become interested in her hands.
“You seem tense,” he'd said. Pierce looked up at them sharply and then glanced away.
At least the two of them hadn't insisted on sandwiching her in between them. That would have been awful. Julia deliberately loosened her hands and laid them flat on her thighs. The last thing she needed was for William to detect something.
She met his eyes, which were the palest gray—striking against all that black hair. He gave a little smile, and she realized she'd been staring. Her palms dampened, and she resisted the urge to rub them on her pants. “I am tense,” she answered honestly, knowing it would ring of the truth. “I mean, I've been with you for a year, and now I have to be with a bunch—” She looked around the tight confines of the airplane. “Of you,” she finished in a whisper.
William's eyes narrowed, and Julia didn't squirm. She wasn't one to just keel over because someone had an emotional reaction to something she'd said. She could hack it. “We have gone over this many times, J
ulia. They will welcome you. You shall be safe, protected. No more running, no more mystery.”
Julia understood what he'd said. She even felt that he believed it. But she'd been there that day on the beach, and she'd seen how they were with each other and with her.
The Were.
She shuddered, thinking of something else.
Anything else.
He reached out and placed his hand over hers, and Julia let him. She'd learned early on that her resistance brought a barrage of questions and concern. It was better to pretend.
It'd make escape easier.
Turning her hand over, he rubbed a thumb over the pulse in her wrist, which beat frantically like a trapped bird. His pupils dilated, and he licked his bottom lip as her breath came shorter, his eyes darkening, the gray beginning to disappear like imagined smoke.
“William,” Pierce said in a low voice. William looked across the aisle at him, his brow furrowed. Pierce looked pointedly at the contact between them, and William removed his hand from hers, the lack of his touch leaving her disturbingly empty. What was wrong with her? It must have been because of her nervousness about the execution of the plan. She felt a stabbing pain for Jason in that moment. He'd have known what to do. But not anymore—now it was up to her.
Julia had to be her own savior.
William waited until he seemed to get control of himself then said, “You will see. My home coven will be a place of respite.”
Fat chance, Julia had thought.
Before, she'd been too weak to think of escaping. But as they made their way to Seattle, her bereavement over the loss of Jason and the others had been at the forefront of her mind, pressing her forward into the unknown.
She was in charge of her own destiny. Not the vampires. Not the werewolves—only she, Julia.
*
Escape
They exited before the other passengers. Only first class for vamps, she thought sourly. Julia had never flown first class. Actually, she'd only been on a plane for a single trip—to fly to Alaska from her home state, where her parents had been executed on the highway. She gulped at the memory. She gave herself a mental push forward as the chaos of the airport swirled around them. The vampires tracked the people around them.
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