by Deanna Chase
The last thought made her skin tingle with the familiar rush of anger she felt whenever he was around. “So I guess that means the jerk. You know what, Cain, just… don’t humiliate me again. That’s all I ask. I’ll stay away, but don’t do what you did today.”
Flint turned her back on him and walked to her pile of clothes, hands trembling with adrenaline and throat working with the strangest need to cry.
Then he was behind her, and she felt his body like a glove, so close his heat and hers merged together and all the fine hairs on her body stood up.
His breath was on her neck when he said, “Hurry up, princess. Don’t want your old man to worry.”
When she turned to tell him her dad was gone and probably wouldn’t be back until tomorrow morning, Cain was already walking up the stairs.
Chapter Fourteen
Abel rolled over on his cramped bed. The tornado had passed within yards of the carnival, dropping hail but not doing any significant damage. Apart from the crazy wailing wind, he’d hardly noticed it all.
But now the world was hot and trying to sleep in this open-air sauna was pissing him off. He kicked the sheets off, praying for a gust of wind to filter through his small slatted windows. But nothing came through, and his AC had stopped working three nights ago. Adam had promised to get it fixed, but so far nothing.
Swearing under his breath, he got up and walked to the door, opening it and taking a giant gulp of fresh air. He stood outside for a while, letting the breeze dry his sweat. The sky was a dark, impenetrable blackness; there were hardly any stars visible.
The gravelly crunch of moving tires drew his attention. He looked and noticed Cain had finally returned from wherever the heck he’d been.
In seconds Cain was out of the car, head hanging, hands shoved in his pockets. He looked tired.
“Sweet gig you got,” Abel said with a sneer when his brother got close enough to hear him.
Cain frowned but didn’t look up, just rested against the bench by Abel’s trailer. “It’s past midnight, man, why are you still up?”
“And you’re not my dad. Where were you?”
Cain’s eyes were dark as he glanced at him. “Go to sleep, Abel. Got school tomorrow.”
Abel straightened his spine, not sure why he was so angry, but pissed, furious at how much his brother got away with. No way Adam would let Abel stay out till midnight doing only God knew what. Adam was always riding him about staying inside, treating him like a baby. Abel’s head started to throb and he gripped his skull, giving it a tight squeeze.
“So do you. What were you doing?” he asked again, but this time his voice vibrated funny. Deep and scratchy and weird. The sound of it was enough to jerk Abel out of his pissy mood.
Cain’s brow was lifted as he studied Abel’s face gently. “You feeling all right?”
“Fine.” He glowered and suddenly felt a lethargy creep over him. “Just tired—couldn’t sleep with the storm. And I can’t shake this headache. Gotta find Mom.” He grabbed his aching skull.
Cain nodded. “You been having a lot of those lately.”
He sounded worried.
But Abel was a big boy, he didn’t need his brother babying him. “It’s fine. Mom’s medicine helps. I just got to find her.”
“I’ll go find Mom, send her to your trailer.” Then Cain pulled away from the bench and started to walk off, but paused to say, “Lock your door tonight, little brother.”
With a snort of disgust, Abel slammed his door shut and flopped back onto his bed. But the moment he did, he started tossing and turning as sweat poured down his back. With a growl, he sat up and stripped off all his clothes, scratching his skin, which had started to itch uncontrollably. His head was throbbing so hard it made him sick to his stomach.
Unintelligible words spilled from his lips as he hissed and clawed grooves into himself, drawing blood.
A knock echoed loudly through his trailer. He got up and opened the door.
His mother’s worried face stared back at him. She cradled a bottle of pills in her hand. “Again?”
“Worse than ever.” He clenched his jaw and walked back to his bed, dropping down onto it in exhaustion.
She rubbed his head, her cool fingers feeling good against his heated flesh. Opening the bottle, she pulled out two pills. “Here.”
He took them and popped them into his mouth as she walked to the sink and filled up a cup with water.
“Drink it.” She held it out to him.
Nodding, he took it and drank, then lay back with an exhausted sigh.
“You know your father suffered with these too when he was younger. You’re okay, Abel. Really.”
Prying open one eye, he gave her a brave smile. “Yeah, and how long did they last with him? ’Cause I don’t think I can take another month of this. It’s killing me.”
She kissed his brow, then walked back to the door. “Baby, it’s just a weird thing in this family. It’ll pass and then you’ll be like new. Now”—she shut off the lights—“try to get some rest, okay?”
She left and closed the door.
The medicine would work. It just needed some time, but right now it still felt like something was crawling under his skin, burrowing into his brain.
He scratched and scratched, but found no relief in the muggy stillness. Not giving two craps anymore about keeping his door closed, he got up and reopened it, heaving a sigh of relief when a fresh breeze came in.
After plopping back down on the bed, he closed his eyes and finally felt the relief of the medicine beginning to work. At some point he must have fallen asleep, because he saw Flint and they were laughing together. She’d leaned in with her eyes closed, her deep red hair dancing around her head like fire, and his heart had started racing… Then his eyes had snapped open when the sensation of something, or someone, watching him woke him up.
Not moving, pretending to still be asleep, he searched his dark room for a shadow. What he saw made his nostrils flare and his pulse hammer.
In the corner, crouched low, a red pair of eyes stared at him.
“What the—” he growled as his blood began to literally feel like it boiled inside him. Abel sat up, rolling on his side. He turned on the lamp and grabbed the first thing he could get his hands on. His baseball bat.
But whatever the thing was, it was gone.
Dropping the bat, he ran to his door, closed and locked it. But sleep eluded him the rest of the night.
~*~
Cain knocked on Janet’s trailer. She opened it on the third knock, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She was dressed in a Hello Kitty shirt and short set.
“Cain?” she peered at him with a frown in her eyes. “It’s late, what do you want?”
“I told you to guard her.”
“I did.” She pursed her lips. “I dropped her off at her apartment and—”
He shook his head. “No, she left and went to the mall.”
“Did you follow her?”
Fire burned in his gut at the thought of what might have happened had he not seen her in time. It shouldn’t bother him so much, but it did, and it really irritated him that Janet was sleeping when he’d given her a direct order.
“No, I was tailing the worker that was tailing her.”
She sucked in a breath. “They’re following her outside of school?”
Cain cracked his knuckles. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out. From now on I want someone guarding her constantly. I’ve got Eli watching the apartment tonight.”
She tucked black strands of hair behind her ears and nodded. “Okay.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Queen Mother.” The worker Aswang genuflected, crawling forward on her knees, keeping her eyes pinned to the cold cement floor. The wash of moonlight spilling through glass windows played upon the cool grays and light blues of their impenetrable hive.
“Arise, my child.”
The queen�
�s dulcet voice never failed to make the worker’s heart sing and her body tremble. She looked at her hive mother with a mixture of adoration and worship.
The queen’s fine brow lifted in inquiry.
“I’ve received reports tonight.”
“And?” The queen tapped her long manicured nails on the makeshift throne of iron and animal skins. Her lily-white thigh peeked from the corner of her blood-red gown, but her face was covered as usual by a mask of shimmering gold and turquoise.
“We believe we’ve found the rager’s weaknesses.”
Blood-red lips curled up into a sickle-shaped smile before she said, “Good, but make certain. You only have one chance to strike while he’s unawares.”
The worker nodded her head three times. “Yes, my queen.”
“Follow them, scare them, but do not harm them. Yet.”
“Yes, my queen.”
“Remember the Order,” the queen said with a sneer, “has dictated the school as neutral ground—that will be your best place to strike.”
“Are we close, my queen?” The worker dared to feel hope for a moment, a curling ball of excitement coursing through her shriveled veins, making her remember what it felt to be alive.
“Freedom will be ours soon, my dear Aswang. Now go.”
The queen clapped her hands and the worker genuflected once more, crawling backward on her belly and breathing a sigh of relief as the abrasive texture of the cement helped scrape the flaking skin off her arms.
Soon this nightmare would end. Soon sides would be chosen.
Chapter Sixteen
Cain hadn’t lied to her that night.
A week had rolled by. Then two. Three. Four. Now it was a month and a half later, and they’d barely spoken two words to each other since that night.
Yes, he’d basically promised he’d go back to being cold and distant, but after all the touching and laughing, she’d hoped that maybe he’d forget in the morning.
But he hadn’t.
He wasn’t such a jerk. Just distant.
And she couldn’t honestly decide which was worse. She knew he was still watching her. Sometimes she’d catch him in the halls, by her locker, or at the lunch table. But he never smiled and he never said hi.
It bugged her that the night they’d spent together she hadn’t gotten to ask other questions. Not the least of which was why in the world he covered his eyes with glasses when they were so blue and nice and did crazy things to her insides.
And she shouldn’t still care. But that night she’d caught a glimpse of the real guy and she’d liked him. A lot.
One good thing had come out of all the mess though. She and Rhi and Janet and Abel had grown really close. They were always hanging out at her place, or occasionally she was even at the circus. Watching them perform, amazed all over again by how cool her friends were.
Things could be worse.
She rolled her eyes as she popped out of bed, slamming her fist on her annoying alarm clock to get it to shut up. Dragging her feet, she got in the shower, washed her hair and body, and gave serious consideration to the thought of pulling out her funkiest outfit in some sort of childish expression of her annoyance with Cain.
Which was all kinds of stupid since they weren’t a couple. Never had been, and apart from that one night, he’d pretty much acted like he didn’t have a clue she existed.
But wow, the way he’d touched her hair, her face, her thumb. Her heart tilted just thinking about it. Which was why it was getting harder and harder to see him and pretend that night had never happened.
But her mom had always told her that when you feel your worst is when you should look your best. And her mom had never been wrong.
Flint grabbed her makeup, threw on some bronzer and a light coat of eye shadow, and called it good. Then she grabbed a hunter-green sweater, skinny jeans, and a pair of bejeweled slip-on sandals finished her outfit. It was starting to get chilly outside now. Mid-October in Tennessee was much different than California, but she’d cling to the last dregs of warmth as long as she possibly could. Glancing in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. Her eyes looked even more slanted this morning, thanks to the eye shadow, and her cheeks—always so pale—now glowed a warm red.
Shoving her homework and books into her book bag, she ran to the kitchen and frowned when her dad wasn’t around. She’d kind of hoped to maybe talk with him about Katy. It’d become obscenely obvious that they were close and getting closer every day.
It was hard on her, his relationship with Katy, but she loved her dad, which meant she was going to give them a fair chance.
As much as it hurt, she also needed to let go of the past. No matter how much she wanted it, her mom was never coming back.
With a quick peek out the window, she spied the bus and, grabbing a banana, ran out the door.
“Bye, Dad!” she called, knowing he probably hadn’t heard her as he had a tendency to sleep like the dead on his days off.
Getting on the bus, she sat down, surprised to see Janet waving at her from three rows down.
“Ja?” she grinned curiously and went to sit down with her.
“Decided to start the sleepover early.”
“Sleepover? I thought were just gonna hang after school. Paint toenails.”
Janet shrugged, her bright pink shirt and leopard-print tights making a bold statement. Not that Flint had a clue what that statement was, but it was daring. Though Janet did kind of look adorable with the cat’s-eye glasses, a sort of retro throwback to the fifties.
“Do you mind? My folks need to work through a tough routine tonight. I’ve got my part squared away, and I think they sort of wanted me out of their hair.”
Flint laughed. “No, I don’t mind. What about Rhi, she’s coming, right?”
Janet shrugged. “We could ask her.”
The rest of the ride was spent talking about nail colors, which helped Flint to ignore the mass riot of butterflies swarming her gut the closer they got to school.
She had no idea how to act with Cain today.
Not one clue.
It would seem like a no-brainer that the longer he ignored her, the easier it would be for her to forget him, but it wasn’t. Each day felt harder and worse than the last.
Walking with Abel down the hall hadn’t helped either. He was quiet this morning, distracted and not paying much attention to whatever it was she was saying. Which honestly, she wasn’t even sure what she was talking about at this point. Something to do with history and nail polish. Maybe?
Finally she spied her class, and her pulse ratcheted up a notch. What he might be wearing today flitted through her mind, and then the thought of what did it matter anyway. Black, black, and more black.
Steeling herself to enter, she squeaked when Abel shook her arm. “Did you hear me?”
“Huh?” She jerked guiltily. “Sorry, spacing out. Didn’t study last night and I’ve got a nasty feeling Mr. Wickham’s gonna slam me with a pop quiz today.”
He chuckled, showing off his deep dimple, and she quirked her lips in response.
“Said, there’s a new superhero movie coming out this Friday. Do you want to come with me?”
“Yeah, be fun.” She shrugged.
“Okay.” He adjusted his book bag and then nodded.
And now that she wasn’t in her head so much, she took a good look at her friend. Lifting her hand, she touched the spot under his eye. “You been sleeping okay lately? You look terrible.”
He pulled away from her fingers. Not in a mean way, but he definitely wasn’t wanting to be touched. She dropped her hand.
“I’m fine. Just… it’s a thing. Anyway, gotta get to class. Later.”
But when she turned back around, she picked right up where she’d left off. Stomach dipping and diving, knees weak with nerves.
She shouldn’t have worried. All the anticipation, the queasy stomach, the butterflies that turned her legs to jelly… none of it mattered, because when she walked into class
determined not to look at him, he wasn’t even there.
Flint stood in the door for a second, being bumped into as other kids took their seats.
Mr. Wickham raised a brow. “Ms. DeLuca, are you going to stand there all day or take a seat?”
“Yeah,” she muttered glumly as the adrenaline that’d beat through her all morning suddenly plummeted to the ground. Angry, frustrated, disappointed, she dropped into her seat and took out her book.
Ten minutes passed and she could barely remember what Mr. Wickham was babbling about. Cain had told her she should stay away. At the time, she’d really hoped he hadn’t meant it. But each day it was becoming more and more clear. Whoever she’d met there at the storm shelter, that wasn’t the real Cain. The real Cain was the guy she saw day in and day out. The one who pretended she didn’t even exist.
She frowned, nibbling on the inside of her cheek.
He’d taken her to a shelter, talked to her, touched her hair, teased her about the clothes and the towel. How could someone act so different and it not be real? How could he have looked at her the way he had and it all be a joke?
Maybe none of it had happened, and it was just a weird, sick dream her brain had played on her.
Shaking her head, she decided it was time. Two months since the day they’d met. It was obvious. He’d meant what he’d said. She needed to stay away and forget him. That’s what he was doing with her.
Whatever had happened that night, it would never happen again. She really needed to stop obsessing about a guy who clearly wasn’t into her.
Determined not to slip into the C+ range in class, she listened to Mr. Wickham, but after two sentences he lost her at “The chemical makeup of zinc is…”
Just as she was getting ready to slip into full-on zone-out, Cain walked through the door and her heart beat so hard it hurt. Flint pretended not to see him, focused her entire brain on trying to look like she was actually hearing a word Mr. Wickham said.
But Cain looked delicious and he was wearing blue—distressed denim jeans with a black button-down shirt. His hair looked wet, like he’d just slipped out of the shower, and the thought made her tingle. He was wearing his sunglasses.