by Kirk, A
The quilt design was a stunning, elaborate mural depicting three distinct Australian landscapes. Dry Outback, tropical rainforest, and sparkling coastline artfully blended from one to the other, with intricate details of flora and fauna so cleverly integrated, it was a delight to discover something new the closer you looked. The edge was bordered with framed blocks, each depicting a native animal. The usual koala, kangaroo, crocodile, platypus, along with creepy spiders, snakes, and lizards, as well as ocean animals, colorful birds, and several creatures I couldn’t identify.
I moved to the end of the bed and opened the trunk. A pleasing floral scent wafted up. More quilts in a kaleidoscope of colors were folded neatly. On top of them was a well-stocked, velvet-lined wooden sewing box along with several books with blank covers.
I opened one of the volumes and found pages filled with handwriting. Each entry started with “Dear Mum,” and ending with “I miss you. Love, Matty.”
“Oh, jeez.” I snapped the book closed.
Wow. Diaries. Matthias’s deepest thoughts and emotions.
I could finally have some serious leverage—uh, I mean, finally understand his innate complexities. So tempting.
I opened up the volume I held, then closed it and checked a few more.
No, I wasn’t reading them. As much as I hated him, that would be way too wrong. I have some scruples—yeah, I know, surprised even me—but I wanted to confirm a theory, and I did.
Matthias had started these diaries after his mom died. It was an accounting of his daily experiences since he lost her, as if he was away at boarding school and wanted to keep her updated on his life.
I replaced the diaries with care, closed the trunk lid, and flopped myself into the leather rocker, ruminating on the unfathomable depths of The Obnoxious One.
I rocked back and forth in the comfy seat. On each of the curved wooden armrests, initials had been scratched with a childish hand. My fingers traced over M.P. on the left and, with a sense of deep sadness, over B.P. on the right.
Ugh. This was getting to be too much.
Looking for a distraction, I lifted the mug off the hearth and sniffed. Tea, not coffee. The book looked old. I picked it up, read the title, and laughed.
“Yeah, right,” I said to no one.
I opened the book. And stopped rocking. My jaw dropped, but I clamped it shut, afraid to drool on this precious gem in my hands as I delicately turned pages to confirm that…
Holy mother of romance literature.
It was Jane Austen. Pride and Prejudice. Published 1813. A first edition.
“No way.” I slapped it shut. Then cringed. “Sorry.” I pet the cover with reverence before setting it back on the hearth.
My wide eyes roamed the space and settled on the bookcases. I shot up and across the room so fast the rocker swung forward hard, caught some air, and thumped back. With mounting disbelief and confusion, my gaze scrambled over the titles on the shelves. I pushed aside some framed photos of a young Matthias and his family and pulled out a few books to confirm that…
Son of a gun.
I slumped my butt on a lower shelf and leaned my head back, trying to make sense of this revelation. The artwork on the wall next to the window caught my eye. I moved in for a closer look. Extravagant English gardens surrounded a grand manor house, but it wasn’t a photo or painting, it was a framed, glass-covered, expertly crafted needlepoint.
I checked the rest of the “artwork” and sure enough. All needlepoint. Most were large canvases of majestic British mansions which somehow seemed vaguely familiar, but there were also a couple of very small works of koala bears done with more beginner-level, childlike talent.
I heard shouts from outside and dashed to the window. Too engrossed in my Goldilockyness, I hadn’t heard Matthias drive up. Out front, he argued with his dad. Hands flew in all directions.
“Why wouldn’t I invite her in?” Sheriff Payne sounded exasperated. “Reece is constantly grumbling about the boys always being at the ranch.”
Reece? Oh, Blake’s giant of an uncle who, along with Blake, ran their dude ranch. Hex Boys weren’t big on me talking to him either.
“I don’t go to the ranch.” Matthias pulled his hair back. “He should tell them to leave if he doesn’t like it.”
“Of course he likes it. He’d like it even more if you were there too. And I’d like it if you guys were all here sometime. But they never come here. So when we get one guest. A girl even. A nice girl that you’re hanging out with—”
“We’re not hanging out.”
“I know you’re not romantic, but you have been hanging out. And despite what Bancroft thinks, I think it’s great. As long as you’re careful.”
“How do you know we’re not…romantic?” Matthias made the last word sound like a flesh-eating virus.
“She told me. Which is another thing—”
“Told you? You interrogated her? And asked about us being romantic?”
Yep, flesh-eating virus again.
“Yes, Matthias. I tied her in a chair in the basement, stuck a light bulb in her face, and tortured her until she talked. Goodness, give me a little credit.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“It was a friendly conversation.”
“You don’t have friendly conversations.”
“Maybe I would if you ever had friends over to have friendly conversations with. She says you have lots of girls at school who like you. There’s no rule that says you can’t date.”
“Are you kidding me?” The Aussie’s voice hit a new high. “There are no girls.”
“That did seem iffy. Which reminds me—”
“Is this about that bloody newspaper story? She’ll pay for that, trust me. Where is she now?”
“In your room, but before you—”
“What!” His pitch could shatter glass.
Matthias turned to glare at his bedroom window. I jumped back and slammed against the bookcase. Did he see me? I wouldn’t look, but heard feet running. A book tumbled down over my shoulder. I scrambled to catch it.
“Matthias, I need to talk to you about something!” his dad yelled. “Bloody hell.”
Footsteps pounded up the stairs. I’d just finished shoving the fallen book in place when the Aussie filled the doorway. His frantic eyes swept the room as he flipped back the waves of hair that fell over his forehead.
“What did you touch?”
“Are you going to spray everything for cooties?”
His pale eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”
“Then I touched everything.”
“Very funny.” Beneath his dry tone was an underlying thread of panic as his eyes kept darting to the trunk then the bookcases. “You’re early.”
“No, you’re late.”
“You should have waited for me outside. And never, ever have talked to my dad. I told you to stay away from him.”
“Mr. Hospitality doesn’t exactly take ‘no’ for an answer. You said he was supposed to be gone.”
“He was. He’s acting weird.” Matthias was fidgety. “I think he knows something. What did you tell him?”
“Nothing. But you can tell me something.” I stepped closer to the bookcase and ran my hand along the edge. He tensed. “About your…eclectic, shall we say, choice of reading material.” My knuckle tapped my chin. “I kind of get the Greek epics, Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe — for sure — and even Mark Twain, but—”
“Samuel Langhorne Clemens.”
“Who?”
“Never mind.”
I knew there was an insult in there somewhere just wasn’t sure where, so I ignored it.
“Anyway, what has me completely stumped is the complete library of classic romantic literature.” I hoped my smile had a Cheshire Cat vibe. “There’s Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters just to name a few. Even first editions of Pride and Prejudice, Jane Eyre, and Wuthering Heights.”
He sighed and leaned against the doorjamb. “Your point?”
&nbs
p; “My point? Come on. You have to admit these are some strange titles for any guy, but you? What’s the story?” I laughed. “Get it? Story. Because—”
“It’s none of your business,” he snapped.
I meandered around the room, gesturing at the walls. “And these needlepoints?”
As soon as I moved, Matthias nearly sprinted to the bookcase, immediately honing in on the book I’d knocked over. He grumbled something under his breath, and taking the ancient volume from where I’d replaced it, he put it somewhere else. Its proper place, I’d guess. Then he took the photos I’d moved aside and arranged them in their original positions.
“Come on, Matthias,” I said with a wicked laugh. “I’ve got you now. Spill your secrets.”
I was all but rubbing my hands with glee thinking how I could use this knowledge against him when his shoulders slumped. His hand raked violently through his hair. When he finally faced me his expression was so desperate and defeated I almost felt sorry for him.
“The guys don’t know. Aurora, please, don’t tell them. Please. They’d never understand. I’m begging you.” He dropped his face in his hands.
“Um.” Oh, jeez, were his shoulders shaking? Yikes. “Ummm. Okay. Yeah, sure.” Should I pat his back or something? No. He might bite. And I wasn’t sure he’d had all his shots.
His head came up, his face red. He squinted a hard look, part suspicion, part fear, part hope. “Are you playing with me? You’re going to tell them, aren’t you?” He groaned. “Sure you are! Now everybody can have a good laugh at the sad, lonely, pathetic idiot.”
“No, I promise.” Keeping the Aussie’s secrets? This was new. “I won’t tell.”
His expression turned to relief. “Thanks. I’ll tell you sometime. And I’ll tell them. Just…not yet.” He stood tall, pulling himself together. “Besides, we have too much to do. Jenny’s ready to check out your powers. And don’t worry. Most people live through his training.”
“Most people?”
“Yup. Let’s go.”
Chapter Eighty-Eight
Matthias changed in the closet, ditching the T-shirt, jeans, jacket, and boots for sweats and running shoes. “I think Jenny was kidding about the bullets.”
Oh, that made it all okay.
He glanced up from tying his sneakers, his look smug. “Gonna chicken out?”
“Of course not.”
Yes, please. Where’s the official Chicken Out form?
“It’s just that I’ve got to be home for dinner or Mom’s got this whole Interpol thing happening.”
He rose and slapped my back. “No worries, mate. You have my word. Dinner. On time. Let’s hit it.”
I followed him downstairs. Heading to my doom?
“Dad! Aurora and I are going out.”
Sheriff Hottie came out of the kitchen, a dish towel flung over his shoulder. “Like on a date?”
I laughed. Matthias cringed.
“No, Dad. Like on a workout. And you wonder why I don’t tell you anything.”
“Come again, Aurora. I make a mean key lime pie.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Matthias grabbed my elbow and steered me out the door. “Actually, it is delicious. Wouldn’t want to waste it on you.’
“Bye, guys. Have fun.” The sheriff waved. “Love you, Matty.”
“Love you t—” Matthias froze. Paled.
He turned to say something to his dad, but the sheriff had wisely ducked back into the kitchen out of sight. Which left me as the sole recipient of “Matty’s” squinty-eyed glare. A creepy smile slithered onto his mouth, his voice cold menace.
“Let’s go have some fun.”
Chapter Eighty-Nine
“I’m not having fun!”
The switchback trail was near vertical, considered one of the most difficult hikes on the mountain.
“But you are keeping up. At least your training’s done some good.”
I was proud of myself for staying on Matthias’s tail. With minimal wheezing. But it wasn’t an accident. The guys had taken me up here several times.
Matthias stopped so fast I bumped into his back. He slapped a hand over my mouth, and ducked us out of sight off the path. “Quiet,” he whispered, then snatched up a broken branch and shimmied it over the ground.
I heard voices just as the man and woman came around a sharp corner of the trail. The size difference was comical. Blake’s Uncle Reece who could be mistaken for a grizzly, and Logan’s mom, the petite dance instructor who barely breeched five-foot—in heels.
“So you lost the trail. Big deal.” Logan’s mom patted Reece’s elbow, because that was as high as she could reach. “Maybe it was just some random hiker who didn’t know that he shouldn’t be going through your property. Maybe checking out the hot springs. Probably already gone. Too bad. I was in the mood for a rumble. Retirement can be so boring.”
“A random hiker couldn’t lose me,” Reece said with indignation. “No, this was a hunter. A good one. I’ll alert the others and restart tracking tomorrow.” After they passed us, he pointed to the ground. “Look, Matthias and that Lahey girl were up here recently. Are they dating now?”
Matthias muffled a pained noise.
“She’s supposed to be dating Ayden. Bancroft isn’t happy. You know he’s been complaining. Personally, I think it’s been good for the boys. Logan’s come out of his shell somewhat.”
“I agree,” said Reece. “A break from Mandatum and hunting is healthy. Although, there is a theory…”
The voices faded.
“They must be tracking Jenny.” Matthias headed up the trail and I followed.
“Should we warn him?”
“He’ll already know.”
We picked up the pace and after a dozen more switchbacks, reached the top. A small, flat meadow surrounded by towering trees with a sheer cliff on one side, a heart-stopping drop into a rocky gorge of raging rapids. He walked close to peer over the edge. My knees tingled, suddenly weak. Heights. Not my thing.
“Be careful.” I leaned over, resting my hands on my knees. “Where’s Jenny? How is this helping control my ability?”
“Over here.” Matthias gestured for me to join him. “I’ll show you.”
“No thanks.”
“Want help or not?”
“Fine.” I trudged over, using sideways baby steps. Sweat oozed from my pores.
Matthias held out a hand. After a moment’s hesitation, I took it.
His other hand snapped around, gripped me hard, and with a great heave, he threw me off the cliff.
Chapter Ninety
Freefall.
Arms and legs flailed. Nothing to stop me. In seconds I’d be dead. Murdered by the Aussie.
Before I’d plunged a few feet, breath deserted my lungs. My throat closed. The white water below, the jagged rocks jutting through like spiked teeth of a ravenous monster, all rushed toward me, and I didn’t even have the luxury of screaming.
I’d trusted him, and now I was going to die.
Icy wind whipped my face, but inside heat flashed. Pressure squeezed my body. My hands, grasping at nothing, began to glow and light shot out, hitting the water below, blasting it into the air like a geyser and shattering rock. But all I got was wet. Nothing stopped my fall.
I picked up speed, dropped closer to the river, the spray of the rapids tingling against my burning hot skin. Too frozen with fear to even close my eyes for the impact, I still flailed my limbs in a useless attempt to stop the splatter of my body on serrated stone poking through the river’s rushing currents.
My hands glowed hot again. Maybe I could blast my way to China?
Something slipped around my waist. Tightened. With a violent wrench on my gut, my body jerked once, and I glided into a smooth arc over the raging rapids, cold water spraying my face as I sailed just inches above the jagged rocks of the gorge.
Suspended by a black rope, it swung me like Tarzan back up and onto the cliff where I was dumped in a quivering heap on a barren patch of roc
ky soil. I tasted dirt.
Frantic wheezing and choking finally expanded my lungs. My vision cleared. Matthias stood several yards away near the top of the cliff, feet planted wide, holding the other ends of the two ropes still wrapped around my waist. The ropes which had caught me mid-fall, and carried me to safety.
But not ropes. His shadow whips. And the Aussie looked extremely pleased with himself.
“How dare you!” I raged.
I tried to get up but failed. My legs were boneless. I flopped over.
The whips still squeezed around my torso. With a feral growl through gritted teeth, I made it to my knees and seized them with every ounce of strength I could muster. Beneath my glowing hands, the whips sizzled. I lifted them high above my head and yanked down with a fury, whipping the Aussie’s weapons in an undulating snap right back at him. I felt heat and tingling across my shoulders, down my arms, then sparks fed out my hands and onto the black lines.
It was as if I’d lit a fuse.
White light crackled along the dark lines that tethered me to Matthias, devouring the darkness at a rabid pace. When it reached the end, an explosion of light and showering blue white sparks broke the contact between us and catapulted Matthias backwards through the air.
I groaned and rolled around clutching my belly. The whip had stopped my fall but it felt like my stomach had been wrung out by the hands of a giant, twisted till my guts wanted to spurt forth. Hair and dirt stuck to my sweat-streaked face. And I stunk. But considering the alternative, I was in great shape.
My mouth split into a crazed smile. “Take that, you Aussie dingo.”
I hoped that was an insult. I expected a snappy, remorseless comment from the heathen who nearly killed me, but there was only silence. That…wasn’t right.
“Oh, no.” I pushed to my hands and knees. “No, no, no, no.” Crawling was my only mode of travel, but it got me to Matthias’s prone, motionless form.
He was face down so I rolled him over. Shook him. He didn’t move.