Remembrance: (New Adult Paranormal Romance) (Heart Lines Series Book 1)

by Heather Hildenbrand

  She told me what Mason had said to her just before he lost his humanity, and it was all I could do to keep from slamming out the front door and hunting him down in his sleep.

  “I’m different. And for no reason. I used to be… more outgoing,” she said with a trace of disgust. I knew what she meant. I’d heard enough stories about Old Sam. Outgoing, yes. Flirty, definitely. In fact, she sounded like she’d been a lot of fun. Either way, none of it was good reason for Mason talking down to her.

  “I don’t care if you’re different, the same, or an alien,” I said. “He’s the asshole here, not you. Sam, you don’t owe him anything. And there’s nothing wrong with being flirty or fun or even quiet. He’s a complete dick for making you feel otherwise.”

  “Tell me how you really feel,” she said sarcastically.

  I knew she was ribbing me but I couldn’t stop it. “You’re way too good for him,” I said fiercely. “And it has nothing to do with him being a filthy werewolf,” I added.

  She grabbed a handful of my shirt and curled it in her fist, falling quiet. I wondered if I’d said too much, but finally she spoke again, changing the subject completely. “Do you think… if you hadn’t grown up knowing what you were, do you think you would have still come to accept it eventually? Would you have embraced it? Or would you have fought for the life you thought was real?”

  “Well, that depends on how awesome my supposed real life was,” I said, going for light and funny, but her silence afterward was clear evidence I’d fallen way short.

  “What if it wasn’t awesome at all?” she asked, her pointer finger drawing idle circles over my chest. Even through the fabric, my skin tingled where she touched. I considered telling her to stop. But my willpower was fading. “What if it was weird and you were weird and nothing made sense so you hid all of your weirdness from everyone else until you thought you were crazy?”

  “Obviously, I’d embrace the new life,” I said, distracted from darker thoughts by her touch.

  She stopped and sat up abruptly, her hair everywhere. I sucked in a breath. She looked like a fucking moon goddess staring down at me all disheveled.

  “What if the old version of you was mostly just an asshole?” she asked.

  My mouth was dry, my tongue stuck, at the sight of her. I blinked. Wait. Had she just called me an asshole?

  I opened my mouth, no clue what the hell I was supposed to say next.

  Downstairs, the front door opened and closed. I let out the breath I’d been holding as Sam’s body tensed.

  “It’s just RJ. My roommate,” I told her. “It’s fine. I’ll go talk to him and be right back.” She nodded and I stood, not sure whether to be glad or pissed that RJ had come home when he did.

  I walked to the door and looked back to find Sam’s eyes locked on me. The trust in them almost took me down right then and there. I might have been the one to save her tonight. But I was not someone she should trust. And after tonight, feeling her in my arms even for a moment, I wasn’t sure I would ever find the balls to tell her that. She would have been so much better off if I’d never gone and gotten myself bitten. Saving me might just ruin her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sam

  I rolled over, half-awake, and cringed at the sunlight burning my eyelids as it streamed cheerfully through a large bay window trimmed in an airy light blue. My retinas protested even as I forced my eyes open to investigate. A move like that on my twin mattress at home would have deposited me on the floor after a full roll-over. Come to think of it, my bedroom had heavy curtains over the single window that didn’t let in a fraction of this amount of sunlight.

  A nasty ball formed in the pit of my stomach as I realized this was not my bedroom.

  I sat up, panic shortening my breaths as I struggled to identify my surroundings. Several rapid blinks later, and I felt my shoulders sag in relief. It wasn’t the sight of the rustic wood-framed queen bed or the dresser and nightstand that matched. It wasn’t the hardwood floor or oak paneled walls that calmed me or reminded me where I was and how I’d gotten here. It was the smell.

  A single strong inhale of the woods-scented air around me and I knew; I was safe.

  I was with Alex.

  Last night came back in a wave of memory and fear that tasted bitter on my tongue. Mason accusing me of being different. His eyes glowing and then his body shivering as he changed into a wolf. Alex arriving just in time…

  I couldn’t focus too hard on what happened between those two things without nausea rocking my middle. And I was pretty sure Alex would be pissed if I threw up in his bed.

  A noise from somewhere inside the house drew me out of my nightmare, and I cocked my head, listening. Dishes clinked together and my pulse went into overdrive. Something about being in Alex’s house and seeing him not quite so buttoned up made my mouth go dry. Besides that, my foggy memory recalled I’d practically thrown myself on top of him. Even then, he’d left and let me sleep alone, like a gentleman, but I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him to find me rolling around in his bed.

  I tossed the covers back, cringing at the too-big gym shorts and tee Alex had lent me. It was better than my ripped, grass-stained clothes from last night. Come to think of it, I had no idea where those clothes were now.

  On a mission to get them back, I crept out of the bedroom, careful to step lightly. I had no idea why I was slinking around. Catch Alex off guard, maybe? I hadn’t slept over anywhere since high school unless Aunt Kiwi’s house counted. But definitely no sleepovers with guys. Waking up in someone else’s bed unnerved me. Especially when that bed smelled deliciously like Alex Channing.

  I left the bedroom door open wide behind me and made my way across the open loft-style sitting area to the stairs. I vaguely remembered Alex carrying me up the stairs princess-style. He’d given me clothes and a spare tooth brush and tucked me in before disappearing for the night. I’d been too exhausted to lay awake and list all the reasons why everything happening to me was beyond terrifying.

  The moment I put weight on it now, my ankle throbbed, but at least I could walk on it. I kept moving. At the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated and then finally turned the corner into the sunlit kitchen.

  “Hi there.”

  I screamed—a broken screech that halted abruptly when I realized the strange guy standing in front of the stove wasn’t trying to kill me but was instead manning a pan full of scrambled eggs.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

  His smile was friendly, his white teeth contrasting sharply with his deeply tanned skin. South American? Latino? I wasn’t sure but he was tanned and flawless and leanly muscled with dark dreads that hung halfway down his neck. He wore a choker chain of white shells around his neck and a pair of knee-length board shorts. Very easy on the eyes, this one.

  I floundered for what to say. Clearly, he was allowed to be here. And I didn’t exactly want to lead with the fact that it wasn’t just him; everything with a penis terrified me these days. “It’s uh…fine.”

  “I’m RJ.”

  “Sam.”

  “I know. Sorry I missed you last night. I was out late. Alex will be back soon. He went out for a run.” RJ smiled apologetically. “We thought you’d sleep later.”

  “A run?” I blinked. “Alex runs?”

  RJ gestured to my shirt. I looked down and read the words printed on the front. Words I’d failed to read last night in my post-panic exhaustion. The shirt said Run In The Rain 5K: Washington, DC. Dated two years ago. So Alex was a marathon runner. It wasn’t hard to imagine, now that I thought about it. It wasn’t a hardship to imagine, either. I licked my lips, my mouth suddenly dry. At the sound of a cabinet closing, I blinked and forced myself out of my daydream.

  RJ had gone back to the eggs.

  He salted them and then glanced up. “Feel free to sit while you wait.” He gestured to a red-cushioned barstool across from where he was cooking on an oven enclosed by a large countertop island.


  I slid onto the stool and a glass of orange juice appeared in front of me.

  “Thanks.” I took it and sipped.

  “Scrambled or fried?”

  “What?” I looked up. RJ held out the pan of eggs with raised brows. “Oh, I don’t want to eat your eggs. I’ll get the next—”

  “Dude. If these were for me, there would be like triple this amount in the pan.”

  I felt myself relax slightly as RJ dumped the eggs onto a plate and slid them my way. His chilled-out vibe and unhurried movements put me at ease so that my inner stalker alarm was silent at the sight of him. A welcome change.

  RJ just grinned a pearly-white grin and went to work making more eggs. True to his word, he added at least six more eggs than before, whipping them together and dumping them all in.

  While he cooked, I wasted no time inhaling my own eggs. They practically melted in my mouth and I sighed, closing my eyes. “These are good,” I said, my mouth full.

  RJ tossed me another smile. “My specialty. Mom always said pick one thing and be great at it.”

  “Nailed it,” I said and forked another bite in.

  I pushed my empty plate away in record time. “You weren’t hungry, were you?” RJ joked.

  I shrugged ruefully and went for the orange juice. When RJ slid onto the stool beside me, I didn’t stiffen nearly as bad as usual. Still, after last night, I tensed, edgy and nervous toward the world in general.

  If RJ noticed, he didn’t comment. “How are you feeling?” he asked instead.

  “Fine.” Now, I was wary for different reasons. “Why?”

  He gave me a knowing glance before forking more eggs into his mouth. “Alex told me about last night.”

  Damn. I’d been hoping my secret was safe. Apparently, not. “What exactly did he say?”

  He shrugged as he took a bite. “Just the facts.”

  I sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  RJ chewed thoughtfully, staring at a sign on the kitchen wall that said Kiss The Cook. “I didn’t know about this stuff my whole life either, actually. It was more or less dumped on me when I was fourteen. So I know what it feels like. I won’t push you to talk about it. I just want to check on your injuries. The rest … you can take all the time you need.”

  “My ankle is much better today,” I said, wriggling it as proof. “Thanks.”

  “Good. Alex will be glad to hear it. Dude was worried.”

  A big part of me wanted to run and hide rather than talk about the elephant in the room—or wolf in the room. But after last night, there was no getting reality. “You found out about werewolves when you were fourteen?” I asked.

  “Yeah. My dad was killed in a raid before I was born. My mom raised me alone after that. Me and my twin sister. She decided it would be safer for us to be outside that world until we were old enough to actually learn to protect ourselves.”

  “Fourteen doesn’t seem old enough to do that,” I said.

  “It is for someone like me.”

  “You’re a hunter,” I said. “Like Alex.”

  RJ nodded and ate another forkful of eggs. “We’re sent to a training academy when we’re fourteen. From there, we learn combat and defense and everything we need to know to go up against them. Weapons training, the whole bit. And we learn what they are. That they can be anyone you see on the street. Although it helps that we have this built-in alert system for them.”

  “Like a sixth sense or something?” I asked, thinking of what Alex had said about identifying Mason so easily.

  “Exactly. It’s saved my life more than once so I’m glad for it. But it made our childhood really hard since Mom didn’t tell us what was up until we were older. My sister took it well, but up until then, I thought I was crazy. Or like a medium or something.” He shook his head, laughing softly.

  I stared at him, more shocked by the fact that I could so easily relate than I’d ever been over admitting any of this was real.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, finishing off the orange juice. He was right; there were some things I wasn’t ready to share. “Where are your mom and sister now?” I asked.

  “They live up north on the Oregon coast. My mom works in the records division there. I was transferred here about six months ago when our organization started getting reports of increased werewolf activity.”

  “And by activity you mean they’re trying to kill people,” I said.

  He winced and looked at me like he was about to say more but the back door opened and then banged shut as Alex walked in.

  “You’re awake,” Alex said with obvious relief. And sweat.

  A sheen of perspiration covered his face and biceps. I swallowed hard and looked away, feeling my cheeks heat as I remembered the feel of his chest underneath my exploring fingers last night. I’d been so screwed up about Mason, I’d barely thought about was I was doing. At least at first…

  “Bro,” RJ said—an admonishment packed into the single word. “You look like shit.”

  Alex bared his teeth in a dangerous smile. “You say the nicest things.”

  RJ shook his head. “You should not be running in your condition. I have told you this.”

  “Do not start with me today,” Alex said, glancing at me and then quickly away.

  “Dude. Werewolf venom is deadly enough. You really want to hasten it by speeding up your circulation and metabolism? Not cool.”

  I straightened and stared at Alex. The stool underneath me suddenly felt very important. Like it was the only thing keeping me from melting into a puddle on the floor. Something resembling trust was sucked from the room—along with the air. I struggled to breathe. Words failed.

  Alex’s gaze flickered over me.

  The awkward silence continued. “Dude, you did tell her … right?” RJ asked in a low voice. Alex didn’t answer beyond levelling a death-glare at his friend. RJ whistled as he realized he’d let the cat out of the bag. “Well, shit,” he said. “Whoops.”

  Alex’s mouth pressed into a tight frown and then he sighed and went to the fridge, coming away with a bottle of water that he uncapped and promptly upended.

  RJ slid off the bar stool and cleared our plates. He dumped them in the sink, gave me a pointed look that was undecipherable, and disappeared out the front door. A second later, I caught sight of him out the window as he broke into a jog and head off down the street.

  “Deadly werewolf venom?” I repeated. “Something you want to tell me?” Alex rubbed a hand over his head and cast a long look at the ceiling. My temper flared. “I’m sorry, am I inconveniencing you, demanding the truth here?”

  “No.” He leveled a gaze at me and I was struck with the strain in his expression. “I was going to tell you,” he muttered.

  I opened my mouth to blast him for such a weak excuse but he beat me to it, the strain turning quickly to fire. “And before you say anything, remember that until a week ago, you had no idea werewolves even existed. And you’ve spent that entire time pouting about it, living in denial, and refusing to talk to me about it. “So I’m not the only one holding back here. I’ll share when you decide to face reality.”

  I clutched the edge of the counter and gritted my teeth. “At least I wasn’t lying,” I said.

  “Lying to yourself is still lying, Sam.”

  God, I hated it when he was right. “Whatever,” I muttered. “Look, I just need to know. Are you… all right? RJ made it sound like you weren’t well enough to run—”

  “I’m fine, Sam.”

  “He used the word deadly.”

  “RJ’s dramatic.”

  “Really? He seemed pretty level-headed to me—”

  “I’m fine,” he said again, the harsh words cutting off the rest of my argument.

  “And last night?” I demanded.

  “What about it?”

  “You’re fine with that too?”

  His expression darkened. “Hell, no, I’m not. I should have staked Mason through
the fucking balls. If I ever see him again, I won’t hesitate to do just that.”

  I blinked. Okay, that was one answer.

  “It’s the second attack on me in a few days,” I said. “And you said you’d help me figure all this out.”

  “I would if you’d call me back,” he said.

  I sighed and my shoulders sagged as I realized he had a point—and that I still didn’t want to tell him everything. Trust was hard and Alex Channing was still a mystery to me. So, in the end, I decided to let it go for now. “Fine. You win.”

  Silence fell between us.

  Alex chugged more water and made no effort to talk. I looked around for something to say or do.

  “RJ is nice,” I said, mostly for something to say but also because it seemed like it could be true. My words earned me a glare that I couldn’t figure out. Was he mad I thought RJ was nice? “You were gone when I woke up,” I said, defending something I couldn’t name.

  Alex lowered the water and his expression dissolved into something like an apology. “Last night, I went to talk to RJ and by the time I returned, you were passed out. I thought you’d sleep later after the night we had. Are you feeling okay today? Your ankle—?”

  I shrugged, taking stock. “My ankle hurts but I can walk. My back is sore. Headache. Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Alex grunted at that and went to the end cabinet, returning with a small packet of something. He ripped the corner and dumped it into my empty glass before refilling it with more juice.

  “What is that?” I asked, my lip curling in suspicious distaste.

  “It’s like an aspirin but in powder form. Works faster. Drink it, trust me, you’ll feel better.”

  I eyed him skeptically but he didn’t move, clearly waiting for me to follow his instructions. I rolled my eyes, grabbed the glass, and chugged. When I was done, I made a face and wiped my mouth with the back of my mind. “That was disgusting.”

  “Well, obviously.”

  “Ugh. You’re impossible.”

  Alex grinned. The transformation from grumpy to lit up was so fast, my breath caught. Did he know how different he looked when he smiled? I swallowed hard, hating that I wanted to be the one to tell him. To earn the smiles. The feeling had been gone for so long, it was foreign. And anything foreign, new Sam rejected.