Wet

by Rose Wulf

  “If anyone has the ‘Georgia’ card,” Georgia began with a laugh, “you can play it now and automatically win.” Laughter greeted her declaration as each of the other players examined their options. Georgia ran her new press-on nails over the cards in her hand before carefully pulling one free and setting it, face down, beside Emma’s.

  One by one, Brooke and the other participants placed their own cards on or around Georgia’s. When the last card was in place, Emma reached out and gathered the face-down cards. Emma was still going through the offerings when someone knocked loudly on the front door.

  The group paused, startled, before exchanging curious looks.

  “You didn’t order strippers, did you?” Emma asked with a grin as she looked over at Georgia.

  Georgia rolled her eyes and pushed to her feet, saying, “I wouldn’t do something like that!” With a wink, she added, “At least not when my boyfriend was home!”

  The girls laughed as Georgia’s live-in boyfriend stood as well and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get it, babe. Keep playing.”

  As he turned to slip from the room, Georgia’s older sister hollered, “Bring me another beer on your way back!”

  Georgia reclaimed her seat and waved her hands in a simmer-down gesture. “Okay, okay, let’s get back to business here. Have I won yet?”

  Emma returned her attention to the cards, paused, and said, “Well, the answer to that all depends … if you’re the one who threw Luke Skywalker at me, then no, you did not win.” As she spoke, she tossed the aforementioned card from her hand.

  “Oh, come on!” the girl to Emma’s immediate left exclaimed as the card landed on the discard pile. “He was cute!”

  Laughter interrupted whatever else she might have said, and it was several seconds before Emma could speak over them again. “Who wants to see the next loser?” Emma called with a smirk. The girls quieted, and she opened her mouth again, reaching for another card, but again she was interrupted.

  “Uh, Brooke?” Georgia’s boyfriend said, standing in the entry to the den. They looked at him, and he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Your boyfriend’s here for you. He says it’s important.”

  The laughter faded, and Georgia looked over at her friend. Brooke shrugged as she stood, hoping her instant worry didn’t show on her face. She couldn’t think of many good reasons why he would have tracked her down, especially without calling. Or did I miss a call? She patted her pocket for her cell phone as she stepped from the room. It was only then that she realized her phone wasn’t in her pocket at all.

  She decided finding her phone wasn’t her priority and continued down the hall, rounding the corner that led to Georgia’s living room and entry. As she passed the small kitchen, she realized where her phone was—in her purse, which was still resting on the counter. I probably did miss a call, she reflected with a guilty wince. But there was no time to dwell on it, because Blake was already in sight.

  Worry shrouded his face, fading his eyes and tightening his jaw. That worry edged away visibly when he saw her, and her guilt intensified. Something had happened, and he’d been worried, but she had stupidly forgotten to remove her phone from her purse and therefore hadn’t heard it ring over the music and laughter.

  “Blake,” she began when she reached him. She’d meant to say more, but as soon as she was within arm’s reach, he pulled her into a tight embrace, and her breath caught in her throat. He’d been really worried.

  He said nothing for a long moment, holding her close and breathing deeply. With every second that passed, Brooke cursed herself for worrying him so much. She could feel the tension in his body—tension that wasn’t leaving very quickly.

  “Blake,” Brooke said again, whispering this time and not trying to break his hold. “I’m sorry. I think I left my phone in my purse. What happened?” She was on the verge of tears and she didn’t even really know why. And that was her fault.

  Slowly, Blake released her. He met her gaze and swallowed heavily. She wasn’t going to like his answer. “It’s okay,” he began, hedging. “I’m just glad you’re all right. But … I have bad news.”

  Brooke drew in a slow breath, knowing it must be pretty bad if he was stalling so blatantly. Her brain was still functioning enough for her to hold up a hand before he could say more, and she quietly said, “Let’s step outside first.”

  Silently they moved back to the front porch of Georgia’s apartment, and Brooke pulled the door closed behind her. She turned back to face him then, but said nothing.

  “There … was a fire,” Blake said carefully. “It started in your apartment. By the time the firefighters got there, there wasn’t much they could do. Your car was still there, so they looked for you, and when you didn’t answer your phone I checked in at the diner, and Paula led me here.”

  Brooke was breathless again, but for an entirely new reason. My … apartment? She’d been happy in that small, out-of-the-way apartment. She’d been planning on living there until she had a reason to need a bigger place. It was comfortable. And now it was gone. All she had was her car, and whatever was in the trunk—she hoped. “What about … my car?”

  Blake slowly shook his head. “It got caught in the fire.” He paused. “Why was it not with you?”

  “Emma offered to give me a ride,” Brooke explained numbly. Her breath stalled somewhere in her throat. She should have at least driven herself. If she had—

  That settled it, then. She had nothing left. The clothes on her back, the money in her purse, her cell phone—which would need to be charged soon, and she no longer had a charger—and nothing else. She’d been without a family for several years, and without a reliable roof for most of those years, too. But she’d never been truly homeless. She couldn’t exactly afford to live out of a hotel for however long it would take to find a new apartment. She really didn’t want to have to drop out of school and move back in with her adopted family.

  She had no idea what she was going to do.

  “I’m sorry,” Blake said softly.

  Brooke blinked, re-focused her attention on the present, and shifted to let herself slump against the outer wall of the entryway. “Everything,” she mumbled disbelievingly. She shook her head, looking back at him. “There must be something that survived, right?”

  “Dean didn’t seem to think so,” Blake admitted.

  Brooke groaned and lifted a hand to her forehead, her eyes squeezing shut. “I can’t believe this … I don’t know what I should do!” Those tears were back behind her eyes, and for a moment she focused entirely on fighting them back. Crying won’t help anyway. It was her old childhood mantra. It’d been a long time since she’d needed it, but she needed it now. She needed the strength she’d found when she’d realized she had no one to rely on.

  A strong, steady hand landed on her shoulder, and the burning faded as her eyes snapped open. She found herself staring into Blake’s intense, guilty, concerned blue eyes, and a bit of the weight that had settled over her heart slid off. She may have lost her possessions, and her home, but she wasn’t alone this time. And that was something.

  “I’ll help you through this,” Blake said firmly. It wasn’t a tone to be argued with, or an offer he would easily allow her to refuse.

  Without warning, a single tear escaped and slid down her cheek. Brooke swallowed past the painful lump in her throat as she nodded. She couldn’t speak. She was afraid she’d break down if she attempted to make a sound. But Blake seemed to understand. He moved closer, pulling her to him once again.

  She tucked her head beneath his chin, her arms wrapping around his torso, and allowed herself a minute to let the tears fall. If she could let out just a few, just enough to take the edge off, she’d be fine. She sniffled into his shirt as his arms tightened around her, his hands rubbing soothing circles over her back. By focusing on him, on his embrace, Brooke was able to lock away the rest of her tears. His thumbs rubbed over her spine, and her skin tingled. She focused on that until she was sure sh
e wouldn’t shatter.

  Her emotions once more reined in—at least for the minute—Brooke gently eased out of his embrace. She wiped quickly at her face and offered him a small, shaky smile. “Thank you. Will you … wait a minute? I should say goodbye to Georgia. It’s her birthday, after all.”

  Blake inclined his head. “Of course. I’ll wait right here.”

  ****

  Blake had taken her, at her request, to her apartment after she’d left Georgia’s a short while later. It had taken Brooke nearly a full minute to make herself step from the car after he’d pulled to a stop at the curb, but she had managed it. And though the fire was out by then, it was far from safe for Brooke to go sifting through the debris, so they hadn’t stayed long. She had spoken with Dean, the fire chief, a couple of police officers, and her landlord, but then she had turned and let Blake lead her back to his car.

  He drove back to his house in silence, trying to give her an opportunity to come to terms with what had happened. For the duration of the drive, Brooke stared out the passenger window. She was jerked out of her thoughts when the car came to a stop.

  Her eyes slid forward, looking through the windshield, and her gaze settled on the garage wall in front of them.

  Blake paused when she didn’t move. He looked over at her and hesitantly reached out, wrapping his hand around her nearest one. “Hey,” he said gently.

  Brooke blinked and looked over at him. “Hmm?”

  “Come on.” He gestured toward his house. “You can stay with me, I don’t mind.”

  She smiled, albeit faintly, and nodded. “Thanks,” she said.

  Together they climbed from the car, and Brooke followed Blake into the house silently.

  They were nearly to the sofas in the living room when Brooke said, “I’m sorry. It’s all just a lot to take in.”

  Blake offered her an understanding smile. “You don’t have to apologize. Hell, it’s my fault this is happening to you in the first place.” And the guilt he felt about that was only surpassed by the anger still boiling in his gut. These men, whoever they were, were going to answer for their actions.

  Brooke frowned at him. “No it’s not.”

  He took his usual seat in the corner and shook his head. “Sure it is. They’re my enemies.”

  Lips scrunched disapprovingly, Brooke moved and sat beside him. “Maybe, but I knew about them as soon as you did. So your excuse for feeling guilty is voided.”

  Despite himself, and despite the situation, Blake chuckled and curved his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “Fine, fine, you might have a point.”

  Brooke leaned her head over his collar and let her eyes close. “Blake … thank you for letting me stay here tonight.”

  Blake frowned at her hair, which was all he could see of her. “Where will you stay tomorrow?” he asked quietly. Georgia’s, maybe? He wasn’t sure; he doubted she had even given it thought.

  It was a long minute before Brooke mumbled, “I don’t know. I don’t have any idea…”

  His heart ached at her words, and his arm tightened around her. There wasn’t much he could do in this situation, especially not before they figured out who was after them, but he could offer a little help. If she was willing to hear it.

  He leaned down and pressed his lips to the crown of her head before whispering, “You can stay with me. I’ve got plenty of room, and the rent’s free.”

  Brooke pushed herself up enough to look into his eyes. “I can’t do that!” she insisted. “I couldn’t impose like that—and I have no idea how long it’ll take to find a new apartment!”

  Blake held her gaze firmly, wanting her to see that he was serious. He reached up with his free hand and let his fingertips trail over the side of her face lightly, saying nothing as his thumb traced her lower lip. When his hand stilled, cupping her cheek gently, he said, “I don’t care how long it takes, and it’s not an imposition. I’m offering. You won’t have to pay for a hotel, and if I can help it, you won’t have to pay for a taxi, either.”

  Silence stretched between them as he watched her process his offer. Her eyes went wide, and she swallowed heavily, but he saw the moment of realization when it struck. She clearly saw his logic, whether or not she would heed it. He could only hope she would.

  Finally, her lips tipped up at the corners with a small, genuine smile. “Okay,” she said. “I see your point. Thank you.”

  Blake returned her smile and tugged her forward enough to press his lips to hers. The kiss was tender and lingering, and when he pulled back, he murmured, “You’re welcome.”

  Brooke sighed, her eyes dimming as her mind undoubtedly wandering back to the day’s events, and she re-settled herself against him. Her eyes closed again, and she inhaled deeply.

  Blake tightened his arm around her shoulders, holding her close. She likely wasn’t ready to hear it yet, but he hoped she’d realize soon that everything would be okay. He’d make sure of it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Brooke spent nearly two hours talking with her landlord the following morning, only to be told that there wasn’t much he could do. He released her from her lease, stating he didn’t have any other units to transfer her to, and wished her luck. With a frustrated sigh, Brooke led the way back to Blake’s waiting Mustang in silence.

  “Can you take me by the mall?” Brooke asked as they pulled onto the main road.

  “Sure,” Blake said. “Which store are we hitting up?”

  “I need a new uniform,” she replied. After a beat, she added, “Well, technically, I need new everything…”

  Blake glared out his windshield. “Try to think of it as re-booting your wardrobe,” he offered after a short pause.

  Brooke’s lips twitched, more in appreciation of the thought behind his words than of the humor itself. “Was there something wrong with my wardrobe?” she asked, opting to go with his tone. She could certainly use a little good humor.

  “Well, I mean, it was, what, a couple of days old?” Blake asked, only the faintest of laughter tingeing his voice.

  “God forbid,” Brooke agreed with matching laughter. It was swallowed up a minute later, however, when yet another realization dawned on her and she groaned aloud.

  “What is it?”

  Eyes closed and head back, Brooke replied, “My computer. I need a new freaking computer!”

  Computers were certainly an expense she didn’t need. But they were also highly necessary, especially considering that most college courses had required online elements.

  “You can use the one in my office until you get your own,” Blake offered.

  “You don’t mind?” Brooke asked hesitantly. “You’re already doing so much…”

  “I don’t mind. I use my laptop mostly, anyway.” And she got the distinct sense he was willing to argue her into submission, too.

  “All right,” Brooke accepted, releasing another heavy sigh. There really was no point in the argument. “Thanks,” she added as Blake turned in to the parking lot.

  Blake just smiled and shook his head as he searched for a parking spot. It was mid-morning on a Saturday, so the choices weren’t as nice. But he found a satisfactory spot in the third aisle, and less than a minute later, the two of them were walking toward the clothing store.

  Holding open one of the large glass doors, Blake said, “You know, I think you could put off the uniform hunt for an hour or two. Remember, Paula said you don’t have to go in today.”

  “I know,” Brooke admitted as she made her way toward the women’s clothing section. “But I can’t really afford to miss too much work, so if I can go in tomorrow, I will. Today, though, I realize that I should focus on other things … like re-booting my wardrobe.”

  Blake’s lips twitched, and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “We can at least agree on that last part.”

  ****

  Blake opted to skip his last class on Monday in favor of making an overdue phone call. Up to now, he’d been leaving the bulk of the
investigation into their enemy to his family. But surely he could do more. Surely there was something he could contribute besides a random chance encounter at a diner. And the only way to know for sure was to talk to the one person who most understood what was going on.

  Uncle Nicholas.

  “Howdy,” Nicholas answered after the second ring. His learned Texas accent was thicker than Blake remembered, but not by much.

  “Uncle Nicholas, this is Blake. I’m sorry to call without notice, are you able to talk?” He hadn’t spoken to his uncle in a while—most of their news and messages came through his mother. But they were still on good terms.

  “Blake! Of course I can talk,” Nicholas said. “How’s my oldest nephew? Not too dry, I hope!” He laughed at his own joke and Blake pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He’d forgotten this part. Nicholas found it hard to focus. For as much information as he knew, it’d taken him most of his life to learn it because he was fairly easily distracted.

  “Actually,” Blake said, leaning back and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of his car. He’d opted to have this conversation from the car in order to insure its privacy. A college campus was no place for this sort of topic. “I was hoping to talk about the other elementals you and Mom have been discussing.”

  Nicholas’s laughter subsided quickly. “Oh, of course. But I’ve already told your mother everything I know.”

  “Everything?” Blake pushed. “There has to be more information somewhere. Do they have predictable family lines like we do? Even just knowing how many people to look for would help.” Anything would help, really. The information they had was too vague, too basic.

  “I’m sorry, Blake,” Nicholas said. Papers shuffled in the background, and Blake pictured his uncle balancing a manila folder on his lap. “I don’t think they have heritages like us. But they used to be pretty prolific, I think.” Nicholas made a stalling sound, more shuffling filled the line, and then he added, “Lightning is their main power. The rest is, ah, it’s not clear. A side effect, maybe. No, looks more like it’s just harder to do.” This time the shuffling stilled. “Have you seen this power up close, Blake?”