On the Edge of Infinity (A Vampire SEAL Novel Book 5)

by S. B. Alexander

  “Prove it.” My voice was calm and steady, which shocked me. I wasn’t convinced this dude was a high school student. He looked older.

  He laughed, a deep, throaty sound that caressed my skin as though his tongue were licking every inch of my body. “And how do you suggest I do that?” He still had his hands in the air, revealing his taut skin above the waist of his jeans, causing tingles to spark inside me.

  The bright lights of the ball field suddenly went off, the area around us darkening. He used those seconds to make his move. He was now standing six inches in front of me while my hip was pressed against the driver’s door.

  I lifted my gaze to meet his, and my heart practically stopped cold. His masculine scent of cedar breezed over me as his honey-brown hair fell over his forehead. Up close he was downright gorgeous. His eyes flashed with playful intensity as though he dared me to use the gun, and that just pissed me off. Gorgeous or not, this guy wasn’t taking me seriously.

  “Well? You didn’t answer my question,” he said in a gruff tone.

  I’d forgotten the question. So I said the first thing that was stuck in my brain. “And you haven’t proved you go to school here,” I said. I had a feeling that wasn’t the answer.

  His lips twitched and dimples emerged. Uh-oh! My biggest weakness.

  Get it together, girl. I was doing a bang up job of scaring away this stranger. My self-defense instructor would clearly give me an F for this one.

  He shook his head slightly as if to say I was crazy. “If you’re going to use that thing in your hand, now is your best shot,” he said as he pressed his chest into the gun, his hands still in the air.

  Stupid move. “Are you crazy?” I didn’t want to shoot him or anyone.

  “Isn’t that you?” he countered. His voice had a playful edge to it.

  Yeah, I was. How did he know? Dr. Meyers diagnosed me with post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD, after I’d found Mom and Julie’s bodies dead on the kitchen floor. Exposure to a traumatic event can trigger such things as panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, fainting or blackouts, memory loss, and others. Sometimes a person may feel as if they’re going crazy, my doctor had explained.

  “Do you normally pull a gun on everyone who comes near you?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Do you normally bang on cars, freaking people out in the dark?” I retorted.

  He narrowed his eyes.

  I did the same. It seemed we were at an impasse.

  “Well, use it or put it away. I’m not going to hurt you.” A mocking grin threatened on his kissable lips.

  “What’s going on here?” Tyler asked as he came running out from the sports complex, panic in his voice. “Lacey.” Tyler skidded to a stop, facing the stranger and me. “What the heck are you doing?”

  “What took you so long?” I asked Tyler without taking my eyes off of the stranger.

  “I couldn’t find the key to the electrical panel for the lights. Kade, man, what did you do to her?”

  What kind of name was Kade?

  Kade slowly turned to Tyler, a muscle working in his strong jaw. “What did I do to her? Are you serious, man? Tell your girlfriend here to lower the weapon. I don’t want any trouble. I was looking for Kelton. He said he’d be down here.”

  “What? Your brother is back? Since when?” Tyler’s voice hitched.

  Why was he shocked that some guy was back?

  “Get the fucking gun off me, then I’ll explain,” Kade said.

  Tyler lightly touched my arm. “Lacey, please. He goes to school here. He’s cool.”

  I didn’t move.

  “Come on,” Tyler prodded. “Put it away. Kade isn’t going to hurt you.”

  Of course, Kade wasn’t going to hurt me. If he were, he already would have. Still, I was afraid that if I lowered the weapon now I would collapse when the adrenaline rush was over, and I didn’t want to look like an idiot. What the heck was I thinking? Which was more important—looking like an idiot, or my own safety?

  Suddenly, in a blur Kade had the clip out of the gun and was handing both pieces back to me. Smooth move. It seemed he knew a thing or two about guns, and as morbid as it sounded, I was turned on even more by this sexy guy.

  “Next time, don’t get so paranoid,” he said. “You could kill someone.”

  A wave of anger doused any remaining desire, and the buzzing in my head started again. Who was he to tell me not to get paranoid? Impulsively, my fist shot out and connected with his nose, and his head bobbed back as blood splattered out.

  “Damn, woman. What the fuck was that for?” He grabbed his nose.

  “Lacey?” Tyler stepped in between Kade and me. “What are you doing?” Horror was etched on his face.

  “He’s an asshole,” I said as I held back the pain throbbing through my hand.

  “So what? Do you hit all assholes? That’s not you,” Tyler said.

  “What do you know about me?” Tyler didn’t know everything about my life. He knew my mom and sister died, but I told him it was a car accident, as I told every friend of mine in California. Very few people knew the details. I had an extremely hard time talking about it. The cops had asked that we keep the facts close to our chests. Based on some of the evidence they found, they speculated that the home invasion was part of a bigger case, and they didn’t want to compromise their efforts to catch the culprits. They kept the specifics out of the media. Still, eight months later, law enforcement wasn’t any closer to finding out what happened. The thought alone compounded my anxiety.

  “I’m sorry, Lacey. You’re right. Let’s go,” Tyler said.

  “I can’t. My car won’t start.” My voice shook with fury. I had to calm down or a panic attack would take over again. As the buzzing in my head roared, I took a deep breath.

  “Kade, man.” The guys matched in height at about six-foot, although Kade was broader through the shoulders than Tyler. “I haven’t seen Kelton tonight. If I do, I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

  In Kade’s eyes, I saw anger, confusion, and then nothing. It was like my teacher just erased the mathematical expressions from the board, and all that was left was a blank slate. A shiver went up my spine, and not the good kind. I hated looks like that. My mom had always said, “Honey, watch out for those who show no emotion. Those are the ones that will eat you alive.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him in return.

  “Fine. I’m sure my brother will be home soon,” he said and seared me with a fierce look before he stalked off.

  “Are you okay?” Tyler wrapped his arms around me.

  “I’m fine. He’s a bit of a jerk, isn’t he?” I pushed gently against his chest. I wasn’t looking for comfort. Maybe he was, though.

  “Wouldn’t you be if someone pulled a gun on you?” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he gave me some breathing room. “I don’t know what spooked you, but what’s with the gun? I didn’t know you carried one.”

  “I know how to use one, if that’s what you’re worried about. I practice a lot.”

  Fear plagued his handsome features. “You’re only seventeen, Lacey. Do you know how much trouble you’ll get into if they catch you with that at school? Are you trying to screw your chances of making the baseball team?”

  It was like I’d fallen into the frigid waters off the coast of Alaska. I wasn’t thinking about baseball when I drew the gun. I wasn’t thinking at all.

  My shoulders slumped. He was right. I had to remember to take the weapon out of my car the next time. I didn’t want to throw away all my hard work. God, I’d been doing so well since we moved here. I still had nightmares, but little in the way of panic or anxiety attacks until tonight. Dr. Meyers had warned me about triggers. Certain stimuli could set me off.

  “Hey,” he said, taking the gun and clip from me then setting them down on my front seat. “I know you’re scared.” He cupped my face with his large hands. “I can see the fear in your eyes. Kade wasn’t going to hurt you. He can be intimidating, though.” His head
dipped slightly, but his blue eyes never left mine. “Okay?”

  I let out a sigh and blinked. I wasn’t scared. Whatever expression he saw on my face wasn’t that. It was more irritation with myself for how stupid my actions were tonight.

  “I’ll give you a ride. We’ll grab a bite another time.” He raised my hand to inspect the redness across my knuckles. “You’ll need to put ice on this when you get home.”

  I yanked it away. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Grab your stuff and let’s go.” Frustration roughened his voice.

  I snatched my bag from my car, threw the dismantled parts of the gun into it, locked my door then slid into Tyler’s SUV.

  As we drove in silence through Ashford, I gazed out the side window. Large houses dotted the tree-lined streets. An old man walked his dog at a leisurely pace, allowing the small animal to sniff every shrub and tree along the way.

  Within fifteen minutes, Tyler rolled into my driveway. I lived in a modern New England-style brick home. In my neighborhood most homes were designed the same—three dormers, a deep front porch running the length of the house, two-car attached garage.

  Stopping behind Dad’s car, he cut the engine. He turned and placed his hand on my knee. “Lacey, are you going to be okay?”

  I stared at his hand. We were friends. Did he want to be more? “I’m fine.” I wasn’t. Christ, how stupid was I for grabbing my gun? What if I had panicked? Oh, yeah—I had. Okay. What if I’d shot Kade? I silently berated myself for my stupidity. Would Kade retaliate? That wasn’t something I wanted to think about. If he did, I’d probably roll over and ask him to scratch my belly.

  “Thanks for tonight,” I said, holding the door, ready to jump out. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me this summer.”

  “Get some rest,” Tyler said softly. “Tomorrow is your first day in a new school. It should be fun.”

  I didn’t move from the vehicle.

  “What?” Tyler asked.

  “Who is that Kade guy?”

  “He’s no one that you need to be concerned about. Now go.”

  “Tyler, I just pulled a gun on him. You need to tell me more.”

  “I will, but not tonight.” He glanced at the dashboard. “It’s getting late. You need a ride in the morning?”

  I stared at him.

  “Seriously. He’s not going to come after you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “I’m not worried about him,” I lied. While a small part of me thought Kade would retaliate, a larger part of me worried I might fall for him. Getting involved wasn’t in my plans.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Only girl I know who would pull a gun on a badass dude like Kade Maxwell. Now, about that ride?”

  “No, I’ll get my dad to take me. That way he can check my car, and he and I have an appointment with the principal anyway.”

  “Then I’ll see you in school. Oh, and Lacey.” His tone dropped, and he lost his smile. “Trust me when I tell you, stay away from Kade.”

  “Thanks for tonight.” I climbed out of his SUV.

  “Put some ice on that hand,” he said.

  I closed the door and waved. The engine faded as he backed out. I started for the house, examining my swollen knuckles. I grinned, thinking of how idiotic I was to punch that handsome guy, let alone pull a gun on him. Nevertheless, I had a sneaky suspicion I was going to see him again. I mean, a person didn’t let things like that slide, did they?

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  Breaking Rules - Chapter 1

  MONTANA

  I ran down the empty hall of the brick building that I now called my school. Argh! Another new school. Another new town. More strange people to ignore. More teachers to yell at me. More classes to fail. I wanted to scream holy hell at my mother. Actually, I had done just that before I stormed out of the house like a hurricane about to hit this coastal Southern town.

  I hated my mom at the moment. We had one of those tense mother-daughter relationships. She was constantly complaining about something I’d done, and I was constantly complaining about her many boyfriends. Granted, it was partly my fault we were on our second move in the last year. I’d gotten expelled from my last school for defacing the walls of the gym with my beautiful artwork. Not only that, I ran with a wild crowd that, according to Mom, was only going to get me in more trouble.

  “New York City is full of opportunities for teenagers to get into trouble,” she’d said during an argument.

  My response had been, “Then you should’ve thought about that before you decided to live close to your publisher.”

  With my tardy note in hand, I skidded to a halt outside my computer science class, when a five-foot girl barreled out, dancing on one foot then the other.

  The edge of the door hit me square in the forehead. The sudden excruciating pain made me wince. “Fuck.” I had a mouth on me, thanks to a couple of my mom’s former boyfriends. Nevertheless, I narrowed my gaze down at the bouncing brown-haired girl.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. I have to pee. I have a small bladder.” With a painful expression on her rosy face, she ran down an empty hall, spewing the word “yikes” several times until a door creaked and she was gone.

  I held my forehead. No doubt a bruise would be forming. Great! I was officially the new girl with a third eye on her head. I dared anyone to bully me on the subject.

  A bald-headed man holding a dry-erase marker greeted me at the door. “May I help you?” he asked in a curt tone.

  Jeepers. I didn’t even get, “Are you all right?” Yep, my senior year should be one crazy ride. I mean, if my first day was starting off with a painful bang, I couldn’t imagine how the rest of the day or entire year would even go. All I knew—I was the new kid on the block, and that sucked the big one.

  I handed my late slip to the bald-headed man, whose name—Mr. Salvatore—was scripted on my note. He glanced at it then back at me with lines creasing around his dark eyes. “Name?”

  “Montana Smith.”

  “Well, Ms. Smith, you’re extremely late. Take a seat.” He balled up the note then tossed it in the trash can.

  I stifled a yawn as I strode into the room with my hand still attached to my forehead. It was useless to tell the teacher I’d overslept, as did my mom. We’d been up all night, unpacking boxes. Regardless, late was late, and nothing I did or said would correct that.

  Beady eyes flickered my way. While other students took my arrival to check their cell phones underneath their desks, I searched for an empty seat and found two. One was in the front row, which wasn’t happening. The other seat was tucked away in the back next to a window. Wow! Pay dirt! At my last school, that seat would have gone for high dollar.

  I crossed the room then down the aisle until I reached the empty desk. I was about to drop my backpack at my feet, when the boy in the seat next to mine peered up at me with brooding sea-green eyes and the longest lashes on the planet. I wasn’t exaggerating. His lashes fell to the tip of his strong patrician nose. Maybe I was stretching the truth a bit. I didn’t give a shit. All I saw was a boy with eyes that dampened my panties.

  I shuddered, the act snapping me out of the lustful world I lived in. I didn’t ogle guys too much, and I wasn’t a slut, but a girl had needs. Mine were stronger than most, at least among my friends at my last school—the same friends I’d had to say good-bye to. A growl zipped around in my head.

  “Ms. Smith.” Mr. Salvatore said my name as though it was a swear word.

  I snarled over my shoulder.

  He dipped his bald head. “Seat. We’re all waiting on you.”

  Well, keep waiting while I admire.

  The corner of Gorgeous Brooder’s mouth turned up. Bingo! He liked me. Who wouldn’t like me? I had long, wavy blond hair, the kind that boys liked to run their fingers through. I was sassy. Okay, the spunkiness in me could fill up a high-rise building in New York City. I had no shame. Oh, and I didn’t give two cents about what people thought of me.

/>   “You should sit down,” a girl with a mousy voice said to me from the desk in front of mine. “The teacher will send you to the principal’s office.”

  I laughed. Then my mom’s words ran through my head. “Remember, no trouble.” My reply to her had been, “Remember, you promised we would spend time together.”

  The teacher cleared his throat.

  Gorgeous Brooder Boy, who wore a black T-shirt with the words “Funk You” spray-painted in red, raised a thick eyebrow then lowered it as he sized me up.

  Goose bumps bloomed to life over my entire body. I knitted my eyebrows more at myself than at Funk You. Goose bumps were for those girls who got all mushy over a boy. I wasn’t one of those girls. Sure, I loved boys and sex and having a good time, but mushiness and love didn’t fit into my life or vocabulary, not after I’d gotten my heart ripped out of my chest by the only boy I ever loved. Not to mention, I’d seen my mom get hurt too many times when one of her dates dumped her.

  Mousy Girl dug her fingers into my arm, breaking me out of my stupor. Instead of snarling at her, I planted my ass in the hard wooden chair.

  Mr. Salvatore glared at me one last time before he resumed writing on the dry-erase board.

  I stole a look at Funk You to find he was piercing those sea-green eyes of his right through me. What I wouldn’t have given to have his long lashes tickle every part of my body.

  I shivered. “What?” I asked in a low voice.

  He shook his head, grinning.

  I leaned over my desk until my boobs were pressed onto the top. His gaze flew to my cleavage.

  “Any parties in this town? Or do you know any taggers?” My fingers itched to show this clean town my colorful graffiti work. However, from the confusion on his face, he clearly didn’t know what a tagger was, or maybe he’d just never seen a set of size C cups before.

  I scratched that last thought. As mouthwatering as he was, I would bet he’d had those strong hands or even his thick lips on a set of ta tas. I held back a snort at that last word. I’d always found the boob slang funny, especially when a former beau of my mom’s used the word constantly.