Cain was still smiling. Smirking really, looking very pleased with himself.
“Move,” Sarah snarled, standing over her with her book bag and books.
Scooting out of the chair, Flint took the walk of shame over to Sarah’s desk and sat, trying to cover her ears as best as she could with her hair.
“After class, Ms. DeLuca,” Mr. Wickham said and then turned back to the chalkboard.
Flint glared at Cain, who was staring at her hard. His mouth pressed tight. Even with the sunglasses on, his gaze was so intense it burned her flesh.
Flint’s spine stiffened when she saw Sarah pop her gum and lean in to whisper to him. But then it was her turn to grin when Cain completely ignored her. The perky blond cheerleader snarled and slouched back.
Cain however, never stopped looking at her.
Chapter 18
Adam sat behind his desk, rubbing his brow and well on his way to finishing the full bottle of Jack he’d started an hour ago.
The circus was quiet, his performers sleeping. Some practiced, but those not in school were out hunting. He’d talked with Pandora this morning—things were going to hell over in the Black Hills. Talk of a Priest—those were always fun—and a mole. Dora wasn’t exactly forthcoming with all the info, but from the gist of what Adam gathered, it didn’t sound good for any of them.
He swallowed a hearty gulp of whiskey, enjoying the sliding burn. Demons could drink until they were blue in the gills and still not fall flat on their face. He was aiming to prove that theory wrong today.
His door opened and he looked up through bleary eyes. “What you doing here, Layla?” He got up from his chair, rushing to her side as she gingerly made her way to the chair in front of his desk.
“Adam.” She smiled, stretching the tight skin of her lips. “Stop fussing over me.”
He sighed, plopping down on the corner of the desk.
“Saw Abel this morning before school.”
Adam nodded, scrubbing his jaw. “Yeah.”
“He’s sick. The dreams. It’s starting.”
Dropping his head, he stared at his fingers. “I never wanted this life for them. For you.”
She touched the corner of his mouth, tipping his frown up into a smile. Her clean scent reached out to him, the only good thing in his life and he’d nearly ruined it. “What did Dora say, Adam?”
The eye on the side of her burnt face was a busted maze of red, the iris clouded over. But her good eye was a deep, rich blue. He framed her jaw with his thumb and forefinger. “Apparently the Order’s had a goon in our midst for some time and he or she has just been reactivated.”
“What? Why?” She spread her arm. “And here, are you sure? All this time?”
“Don’t think Dora would have lied about this, and yeah, it seems like something the freaks would do. Whoever it is, we’ll figure it out and see where we go from here.”
“Why would they have someone here this whole time? We’ve been compliant from day one.”
He shrugged, dropping his hand. “Who knows? Maybe we’re not working fast enough to eliminate the threats, so they’ve sent someone to be their eyes and ears.”
She shook her head. “I’ve never trusted them, Adam. You know that. A freaking fink in our midst. Pisses me off.”
“What I know”—he stood up and helped her to stand, wrapping his arm gently around her petite waist, running his fingers along the wasted side of her body—“is that you should be resting.”
She sighed. “Adam, I’m burnt. I’m not an invalid. You guys are my family, I just worry.”
He grinned, flashing her his most charming smile. “We’re unbreakable, you’re not.”
She framed his face and his lashes fluttered; she still had that effect on him. “Demons and your blasted charm.”
Then she pulled him in for a kiss, but Adam did worry. Because even though the Order was comprised of humans, it was humans who knew their weaknesses, humans who’d nearly brought his race to the brink of extinction.
The Order gave directives; they never actually came out to lead the charge.
That they felt the need to do so now was very, very worrying.
Chapter 19
Walking into the lunchroom, Flint stared at her table. Rhiannon, Janet, and Abel were waving her over. She eyed her slice of disgusting-looking pizza and then waved back at them, wrinkling her nose.
“Sorry,” she mouthed and grabbed her head, then dumped the pizza in a garbage bin and walked out of the building, heading to her bleachers.
She wasn’t ready to face them now, maybe not ever. Which was a total baby thing to do. She should just woman up and tell them what she’d seen. They’d probably laugh, tell her she was crazy and of course Rhiannon wasn’t a killing blobby shadow, and she could go back to talking about stuff that didn’t matter.
The only problem was she didn’t believe that.
There was too much weirdness going on at that circus.
From the day she and her dad had driven through those gates. The freaky eyes, even Cain’s... red one second, then blue the next. Of course there were contacts that could do that, but you could always see the outline of the contact in the eyes. Granted it had been dark that day he’d caught her on the net, but there went another question, how had he moved fast enough to literally snatch her from midair?
The wind was breezy, rustling leaves around her feet. Fall was in full swing, with the promise of winter not too far off. It was overcast enough today to make her feel the promise of snow coming soon.
It was empty outside, which was just fine with her.
Sitting on the bottom bleachers, she pulled her chem book out of her book bag and opened it. Maybe if she could focus on something else.
Flint wasn’t even sure which chapter they were on.
She was so gonna fail.
Which would piss her father off to no end. She sighed, pulled out a piece of gum, and leaned back, closing her eyes for a split second.
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been lying there when she heard the rustling of shoes moving through leaves. She cracked an eye open.
Abel leaned against the chain metal fence. “Wanna talk about it?”
The wind ruffled his thick brown hair. In that moment he reminded her big-time of Cain, which made her stomach flutter.
“Not really.” She sighed, not sure what she could tell him, how much. How well did he know Rhiannon?
But even wondering all that, she couldn’t help but feel relieved when he sat next to her. His normalness helped to ease her anxiety as he shoulder-bumped her.
“School sucks,” he said with a quiet chuckle.
She bumped him back. “Yeah.”
“Okay then.” He ran his hands down his jeans. “Let’s go.”
She laughed. “What?”
“Come on, let’s bail. I’ve got a four point one GPA. They can’t touch me.”
Flint rolled her eyes, instantly guilty. “I’m lucky if I’ve got a low-C average at this point. I really should stay.”
“My dear little Flintlock, tell me when you’re sucking so bad at school. Your boy can hook you up. Now let’s go.”
“Seriously?”
He shrugged. “My dad has the truck today.” He wagged his finger. “Stop trying to get out of it—I’ve got the ATV, any other excuses?”
It didn’t even take a second to think about it. “Nope, let’s go.”
In no time they were out at the parking lot, Adam’s cherry-red ATV looking super obvious in a parking lot full of cars. “How did you sneak this past Cain and Adam?”
He tossed her one of his dimpled grins and her heart raced. “I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon.” Abel handed her the second helmet.
She lifted a brow. “You came prepared.”
“I’d hoped.” He winked and then straddled the vehicle.
Flint strapped her helmet on and sat behind him, hugging his slim (but not quite so slim) waist. “Hey, you been hitting the donuts or what?” She squee
zed.
“I’m a growing man, Flint. Now hang on.”
He started the ATV and the last thing Flint saw was the school fading in the distance as she had the fleeting thought that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.
~*~
“What movie?” Abel looked at the screen as he dug in his back pocket for his wallet. “My treat.” He gave her his patented grin and Flint seriously had no idea the last time she’d had this much fun.
They’d gorged themselves on cheese-covered fries, played a couple of games at the arcade, and were now getting ready to top the day off with a movie.
“Well, since I didn’t bring any cash, ’cause ya know, didn’t plan to sneak out with a delinquent—”
“Who me?” He wiggled his brows.
“That would be awesome. But next time it’s on me.”
“So what are you in the mood for?”
The movie attendant behind the glass just looked bored. An older woman with owl eyeglasses on, her mouth was set in a tight grimace. She obviously knew ditchers when she saw them.
Flint shrugged. “Guns, kisses, or blood. You choose.”
“Two for Zombie Killers from Outer Space, please,” he told the woman, who just rolled her eyes and punched their tickets in.
“Zombie Killers, huh?” Flint held her ticket, laughing. Not exactly what she’d wanted to see, but considering he was a boy, she hadn’t really expected him to pick the chick flick either.
They were just finishing up placing their popcorn order when a girl knocked into her shoulder, making her spill some of the soda down the front of her shirt.
“Oh, freakin’-a!” Flint growled as the shock of the cold, sticky drink soaked through her cotton top.
Abel frowned, eyeing the woman’s red-jeaned backside as she beelined to the ladies’ bathroom. “That was rude,” he said, loud enough the woman should have heard.
Flint grimaced as the soda started to squish through her bra. “Look, go get us seats in the front. I’ll meet you there.”
He nodded and she sprinted for the bathroom.
First thing she did was look for the woman, not that she had any intention of telling her off, more out of curiosity. But the bathroom was huge and appeared completely empty. Which meant the woman was ducking out in the back stall somewhere.
Frustrated, Flint wet a napkin and tried her best to clean her top. Lifting her shirt, she cleaned and dried her skin. Her cheeks and eyes looked flushed and she smiled, realizing she hadn’t thought about killing shadows, or Rhiannon, or Janet, and especially not about Cain since bailing with Abel.
Smiling at herself, she applied some ChapStick to her lips and was just headed out the door when she caught the blurry streak of movement in the glass. But it wasn’t the movement itself that caught her eye, rather the bright spot of red.
Which made her suddenly recall the red eyes of last night. A cold sweat broke out on her skin as she whirled back around, heart thudding almost painfully in her chest as she waited and counted her breaths.
But the bathroom was so empty the silence echoed with it.
Finally a shaky laugh spilled from her lips and she shook her head. “I’m going nuts.” Dusting her hands down her pants, she ran from the bathroom and went to find Abel.
She sat down just as the lights flickered off.
“You okay?” Abel whispered, but he needn’t have bothered, they were the only ones in there.
“Yeah, just thought I saw something.” She shrugged and gave him a light smile, trying to convince him and herself that her brain was just playing tricks on her eyes.
He nodded, but a thoughtful frown creased his brows.
The opening sequence was just starting—zombies were filing into a horseshoe-shaped spacecraft and chanting, “Must eat brains” when he leaned back into her, and for a quick second she caught a whiff of moss.
The smell forcefully reminding her of Cain so that her heart took an extra beat.
“So what’s going on with you, Flintlock?”
“Flintlock?” She glanced at him with a question in her eyes.
“I kind of like it.” He grinned, revealing his deep dimple, and she snorted. “My code name for you.”
“Why does everyone want to give me a nickname?”
“Cause Flint’s a weird name for a girl. And who’s giving you nicknames?” He mock pouted and she tossed a kernel of popcorn at his nose.
“Flint’s not a weird name. It’s unique.”
He rolled his eyes, shoving his entire fist into the large tub of popcorn.
“And everyone calls me by a nickname. Dad calls me Flinty—”
“See, even your dad thinks the name is weird.”
“Shut up, you.” She wagged her finger at him. “You called me Flintlock, and like, what’s that all about? Stupidest nickname ever, and...” Cain calls me princess.
She clamped her lips together, realizing she’d almost told him that. Not sure why she shouldn’t, but she instinctively wanted to protect him. Which was weird. And sick. But mostly just weird. She shouldn’t give a crap about protecting anything that happened between her and Cain, but for some unfathomable reason it felt important and personal and she refused to analyze why.
“And?” he prompted.
She stuffed popcorn in her mouth and pointed to it while she chewed obnoxiously. “Can’t talk now,” she mumbled.
“And you girls call us pigs.” Abel snorted and joined her in devouring the tub.
The movie wasn’t as bad as she’d expected; it was worse. Zombies sucking out blood, brains, and intestines—which actually looked more like linked sausages—which made her glad she hadn’t ordered the pizza she’d been eyeing earlier.
Abel, on the other hand, was grabbing his stomach and groaning.
“You okay there, featherweight?” She grinned.
He eyed her, a look of supreme disgust curling his lips. “I think I might have eaten one bag of candy too many. You ready to head home?”
It took a while, but they finally made it out to the parking lot. The second the breeze hit them, Abel looked marginally better. He was still holding his stomach, but he didn’t look so green around the gills anymore.
Starting to get worried for him, Flint touched his shoulder. “You sure you okay? You’re looking as white as a ghost.”
Abel leaned against the brick wall, taking in huge gulps of air. He planted his hands on his knees and bent over.
“Umm, Abel, are you getting ready to yack? Should I get water or something?” She rubbed his back, thinking maybe it was more than just too much candy. And when she touched his forehead, she knew it was. He was clammy.
“No.” He shook her away. “Been feeling like this the past few days, it’ll pass. Just give me a sec.”
Flint glanced up at the sky that suddenly looked to be frothing and churning with gathering storm clouds. A hard wind was driving in from the east, whipping her hair into her face. She wasn’t exactly superstitious, but it felt like a bad omen.
He was still breathing hard, huffing air through his open mouth, and when she rubbed his back again, she swore she felt his muscles slide.
And not just scrawny Abel muscles, it felt like thick cords of rope moving beneath her palm. “Abel, should I call Adam?”
He shook his head.
“Your... Cain?”
He glared at her, and she inhaled when she saw the size of his pupils—they were huge.
“Stop, Flint. Just give me a sec.”
His voice was thicker, gruffer, and she wrapped her arms around herself.
Tires screeched to a stop in front of them and her heart sank. Cain’s black Corvette rumbled in front of them.
“Did you call him?” Abel growled.
She shook her head. “I don’t even have his number.”
Cain shot out of the car, looking as frightening as a grizzly about to attack. “Where did you go?” he snarled, and he wasn’t looking at Abel.
“I...” Flint glanced at Abel, then
back at Cain, brows dropping in confusion. “Excuse me?”
He made a grab for her elbow, which she found extremely annoying, and she sidestepped. “Hey, hands off! And why do you care?” she snapped back at him, finally finding her tongue.
“Do you have any idea how many places I had to search before I found you?” His voice was deep, really deep. Growly. And his arms, jeez, they were freaking ginormous. Like two flexing pythons.
All of which should have terrified her, but instead it only made her stomach swirl with knots.
She hated her body’s reaction to him. Her brain screamed, “Neanderthal, run away,” while her body yelled, “Must have, must have....” It was really rather pathetic, which pissed her off.
“You’re not my boyfriend, Cain. You’re not my anything, so why do you care?” She narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t care, princess.” He said it so cold that she flinched. “But I’m pretty sure Frank does.”
“Dad?” Her mouth dropped open, the sensation of a stone ripping through her gut made her grimace. “He knows?”
He ignored her.
Glancing at Abel, Cain snarled. “She’s coming with me. You follow. Adam’s not happy.”
Abel’s shoulders slumped and he nodded.
“Wait, I should go with him. Abel’s not well, or better yet”—she planted her hands on her hips—“he should go with you. I can take the ATV back.”
Shaking his head, Cain sauntered back to the car, saying louder than words that the conversation was over.
“Abel?” Flint looked at him. He looked fine now. His eyes were a little bloodshot, but nothing major. “You gonna live?”
He ran his long fingers through his blunt brown hair. “Yeah. Maybe not for long though. I’m sorry, Flint. But you should go. Cain’s not the most patient one among us.”
He jerked his chin, and when she looked over it was to see Cain drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, a mutinous expression twisting his lips.
“I don’t know why I can’t just ride with you,” she mumbled but headed to the Corvette.
The second she was in her seat, Cain was peeling out.
Forbidden, Tempted Series (Book 1) Page 14