Whether she pulled away from Jake because she was scared, torn between him and Tavis, or simply not interested, Jake had no idea. Regardless, it was time for him to stop living in his dream world of what-ifs and maybes.
He crouched by the pond’s edge and stared out at its glassy surface. Zoe had woken up in a world she didn’t understand. There was uneasiness in her eyes when she was around Dani, her supposed best friend, and hesitation when she was around Jake. Everything about her was different.
Grabbing a few rocks from the edge of the pond, Jake rose and chucked one off into the water as far as he could. Zoe had admitted herself that being around Tavis was easier. It was a difficult truth to swallow, but Jake knew, deep down, that whatever had been between him and Zoe before, Tavis and Zoe were more compatible now.
Jake heaved another rock. His stomach churned with an aching longing as he realized that she was no longer his and accepted that she might never be again.
How exactly he’d fallen so absolutely in love with his Zoe, he didn’t know. From the first moment he’d seen her, something had stirred inside him—a purpose…a curiosity…a desire. And as he’d come to know her better, her stubbornness had challenged him and her determination had inspired him. But she was different now.
With the burning sting of acceptance, Jake knew he had to let her go. He tossed the last rock further than the rest, and anger hardened inside him. Turning on his heel, he headed back toward camp.
His jaw ached and his teeth clenched as he considered how often he would have to watch her with Tavis. His heart tightened at the mere thought of her never sleeping in his arms again. It would be easier to leave, to run away like the coward he’d been so many times in his life. But he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t very well leave, not with his sister carving out a place for herself in the group.
Running his hands over his head, Jake let out a despondent groan.
After too many resentful thoughts, he reached camp. As he approached the campfire, Cooper left Jake’s side and pranced over to the Re-gens, who were sitting in a tight circle around Ben. He was gesturing wildly, no doubt dramatizing some story about him and Ky in their youth.
With a few hours to kill before his watch started, Jake left Cooper to be fussed over by Camille and Becca and headed past the group toward his tent. The little voice inside his head wondered where Zoe was, causing his hands to clench into fists. He needed to stop seeking her out.
Rubbing the tension from the back of his neck, he glanced up and froze.
Zoe was pacing back and forth in front of his tent. Her hair was braided, trailing down her back, the ends just brushing the waist of her jeans. One arm was wrapped around her middle, the other raised so that her hand clasped the back of her neck.
She continued to pace, giving him no indication that she’d even realized he’d approached. She looked just like she always had, statuesque and thoughtful with each long stride, but inside she was fractured—pieces of her old self clinging to the new, unwilling to let go. He saw glimpses of her old self every now and again, and that made it all the more difficult to accept that everything had changed, that he’d lost her.
When she finally looked up to see him standing there, she stopped mid-step. “Something’s changed, hasn’t it?” she asked.
Jake remained silent, her urgency catching him off guard and the tremble in her voice thawing his anger and frustration.
She took a step toward him, her eyes searching his. “You’ve been keeping your distance, and I can’t tell why.”
What could he tell her? Their long, heavy silence only echoed the distance that had been growing between them.
Jake took a deep breath. “I have to let you go” was all he could say, but the words tasted ashen on his tongue. He hated how confused he felt around her. “This isn’t right. You’re different now—”
“Yes,” she said and took another step forward. Finally her brilliant teal eyes met his, and she stared back at him with an injured gaze. “I’m fully aware that I’m different.”
“You can’t be something you’re not.” He hoped speaking the words would make it easier to accept the truth, but when her eyes gleamed and her features hardened, he felt deplorable for saying them at all. “We’re not the same as we were before. I have to accept that—”
“Do you still care about me?” she blurted. “The way I am now…do you still want to be with me, at all?”
Jake’s heart began to race, and he was about to open his mouth when she continued.
“Because after what happened with Dani…” She shook her head. “I’ve felt more pain and regret and loneliness today than I ever want to feel again.” Tucking a loose hair behind her ear, she took another, more fortifying step toward him. “I’ve lost more in the last few weeks than I may ever be able to fully comprehend, but I don’t want to have any regrets in this new life.” She said each word pointedly, that strong will and resolve he admired so much flaring to life. “You don’t get to make choices for me,” she said.
Questions thrashed around in Jake’s mind.
In his long, pregnant silence, she added more tentatively, “But, if it’s too difficult for you to be with me, if it’s not what you want, then that’s your choice…and I understand.”
“No you don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t understand.” His tone was harsher than he’d meant, but he needed to speak the truth. “You have no idea how difficult this is.”
She straightened, her head shaking and her glare boring into him. “Difficult…for you? Every time I think we’re taking a step closer together you think of her. I’m not her, I’m—”
“I think about you.”
“No, it’s different.” Zoe’s hands fisted at her side and she took two more obstinate steps closer. “You know it is. I can’t be her, Jake. I can’t live up to that. I can’t be someone I’m not.”
“Which is why I should let you go,” he said. The words hung, suspended in the quiet that followed. After a few steadying breaths, he continued, “This is torture, Zoe. I love you so much, and it’s killing me that I can’t have you.” He slumped his shoulders and cursed. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Does what I want matter at all?”
Jake let out a bitter laugh. “I know what you want.”
“Obviously not.”
He was growing impatient. “Tell me then, what is it that you want, exactly, because I’m confused. Tavis is always around—”
“So you’re ‘letting me go’ because of Tavis?” She looked shell-shocked. “It’s not what you think,” she said, pointing vehemently toward the campfire. “It’s easier to be with him, but—”
“Exactly.” Jake’s voice was a low growl, and he was on the verge of walking away so he didn’t say something else, something he would regret. “That’s why this isn’t going to work.”
Zoe recoiled.
Jake’s heart was pounding violently, and his hands began to shake. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want her to hate him, but it was too much to keep locked inside anymore.
“Despite what you may think,” she started, “I didn’t go to him this morning—it just happened that way.” Her voice cracked. “I wanted him to be you.” She closed the distance between them, her eyes shimmering and her heaving chest mirroring his. “If you don’t want to be with me, I understand,” she said. “But I don’t want to waste any more time sidestepping everything because I’m scared that I won’t live up to her memory. I don’t want to feel the kind of regret that’s simmering inside you…that’s consuming Dani. I don’t want to be the reason I’m not happy.”
Jake was awed by this tenacious, uninhibited side of Zoe. She was stunning.
Swallowing, she said, “Do you still love me, even though I’m different?” Her eyes searched his, and she bit the inside of her cheek.
Jake’s hand reached out and cupped the side of her face. Yes, she was different,
but she was still Zoe. “Of course I do,” he whispered, emotion making it difficult to speak.
She covered his hand with hers, the electricity of her touch rippling through him. “Good, because no matter what you may think, right now, being with you is the only thing I want.” She closed her eyes.
As Jake digested her words, his chest tightened almost unbearably with immense joy. Standing so close together, with only inches separating them, he felt more intimacy with her than he could ever remember feeling before.
It’s still Zoe, he told himself, knowing he might never get the old her back; they were still connected in some intrinsic way. He could feel the heat radiating from their bodies and gravity pulling them together, making it impossible to let her go. He moved closer to her until their chests were touching.
When she opened her eyes, a tear escaped from between her lashes.
“What is it?” Jake asked, and he wiped the rogue tear from her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
Blinking, Zoe closed her eyes again, another teardrop sliding down her face. “I know this sounds so stupid,” she said and let out a small, self-deprecating laugh as Jake brushed away the second tear. “But I’ve never felt something like this before.” When she gazed back up at him through her dark, fanning lashes, her radiant eyes seared into his soul.
Zoe placed her open palm on his chest, staring at it intently. Her fingers tensed against his thermal shirt, then relaxed again. “It feels right.” Slowly, she leaned toward him, her eyes searching his before her lids flitted shut, and she pressed her lips to his.
Automatically, Jake’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he stifled a groan. The tension in his neck and shoulders dissolved, and his wild, corrosive thoughts tamed. She was his, and like always, they would figure everything out.
Zoe brushed a featherlight kiss against his lower lip and then the corner of his mouth, like she was exploring him. He reveled in the moment, letting her tender touch force back every derisive thought and assumption he’d allowed himself to harbor. He’d missed feeling the soft pressure of her lips. He’d missed the close proximity of her body. He’d missed her.
Returning her kiss, Jake gently pressed his lips to hers. He took his time reacquainting himself with the way they felt, with the way her fingertips swirled small circles on the back of his neck, and with the way she slowly rose onto her tiptoes, bringing her up even with his height so she could kiss him deeper and hold him tighter.
Jake’s arms tightened around her as his heartbeat droned steadily. He couldn’t think. He didn’t want to think; he just wanted to feel her, to be in the moment and never second-guess their relationship ever again.
But all too soon, she pulled away.
Opening his eyes, Jake saw a spark of hope enliven hers again, replacing the hurt reflected in them only moments ago.
“So,” she said huskily, eliciting a strumming desire through his body. “We try then?”
With more relief than Jake knew how to handle, he lowered his forehead to hers, tightened his hold around her, and closed his eyes as he whispered, “We try.”
15
DANI
APRIL 28, 1AE
Humboldt-Toiyabe National Forest, Nevada
I ran a curry brush along the curve of Wings’s back, over and over again. The rest of the horses were already rubbed down and turned out in the field of wild grasses that spanned the acres between the highway and the sprawling forestland to the south. It was the first time we’d been somewhere so green in weeks, let alone near a creek that held enough water to actually clean ourselves. I didn’t know where the others were, but I assumed the creek had captured their attention.
Not that I really cared, other than being glad they weren’t nearby. It was a relief to finally be alone with Wings and Jack. I planned to stay with them until the sky darkened and I was too tired to keep my eyes open, and then I would slip into their minds and spend the long hours of the night with them as well. I basked in the comfort only they could provide, because only they understood what I was going through. The others—my human companions—they tried to comfort me, but all of their pitying eyes and concerned expressions only made me feel worse.
And then there was Chris. She’d volunteered for “Dani duty” this morning so she could ride in the front of our caravan and meddle with my brain chemistry. Usually, I appreciated the brand of soothing that was unique to her, but this time I didn’t. I’d let her take the pain away after Cam died, mostly because for days, weeks even, neither of us realized what she was doing. I hadn’t been able to mourn Cam, not fully and not while the feelings were still raw, and I was determined not to let the same thing happen with Ray. I didn’t think I would be able to continue on with another burden of half-closure looming overhead like a thundercloud, always on the verge of bursting and showering me in misery.
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” I told Wings and Jack, knowing they would understand my meaning. I’d looped them in on my inner monologue, not wanting to keep any unnecessary barriers between us. Because one day, I would lose them, too.
I stayed with them while the sun slipped behind the tree-lined hills, while the sky turned orange, then red, and then darkened, and while the stars winked into existence overhead. I stayed with them until Jason showed up and pulled me toward our tent, where he tucked me in before heading back out for first watch. But even then, while I lay alone in the tent, I stayed with them.
~~~~~
My eyelids snapped open as a strange blip appeared on my telepathic radar.
“What the hell?” I murmured, closing my eyes to make focusing easier. I was used to random animal minds flitting here and there, coming closer and moving away on the ground, underground, and in the air, but I could always recognize what sort of creature I was sensing. But this mind…it was completely unrecognizable.
It wasn’t overly close, maybe a mile to the south, but it was heading in our direction.
I opened my eyes again, sat up, and crawled out of my sleeping bag. Jason wasn’t tucked in his sleeping bag beside mine, which meant it was still first watch, still before two in the morning. I slipped my feet into my boots and unzipped the tent door. As I exited, I telepathically called Jack to me.
He trotted through the darkness, Cooper right beside him.
“Quiet, boys,” I told them both as they drew closer. “We don’t want to wake everyone.”
The German shepherd and husky sniffed my legs and wagged their tails while I took a moment to scratch each behind an ear.
“Where’s Jason?” I asked them.
Jack grunted and yawned, his version of a whisper, before turning and trotting toward the wagon and cart, which were parked just outside our circle of tents.
I rarely had watch, considering I was on watch via the animal minds pretty much all day and, to some degree, all night anyway; that alone nearly exhausted me, so I’d never had the chance to sit with Jason in the wee hours of the morning, guarding our slumbering companions. I didn’t know his patterns, his favorite lookout spots, his strategies for staying awake.
Splitting my consciousness between my own mind and Jack’s, I could make out a person’s silhouette on the wagon’s bench seat a short ways ahead. I allowed my consciousness to become whole again as I neared the wagon, and the shadow that was Jason became visible to my own, less sensitive eyes.
“Jason,” I whispered. “It’s me. Don’t shoot me.”
“I saw you get out of the tent,” he said, his voice low, dry. “And heard you stomp over here. I know it’s you.”
“I didn’t stomp.”
Jake, who I hadn’t noticed sitting beside Jason, leaned forward. They looked like two heads coming out of the same body. “You didn’t tiptoe, either.”
I glared at them both, not that they could tell.
Chuckling, Jason hopped down from the wagon. “What’s up?”
“I felt something…” I focused on the strange mind again. It was closer, maybe a half-mile away now, and still headed t
oward us. “But it doesn’t feel like any animal mind I’ve ever sensed…and it’s coming our way.”
My eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough that I could just make out Jason’s frown. “Any guesses?”
I answered with my own frown and a shake of my head.
And then I felt another of them—no, two more. They, too, were heading toward us, a short way behind the first one but closing in quickly.
“There’s more.” I squinted, concentrating. “Two of something chasing another of their own kind.” Again, the corners of my mouth turned down, and I shook my head. “I don’t know what they are. They feel sort of familiar, like—”
A horse screamed, and I instinctively slipped part of myself into Wings’s mind. She was standing in the grassy field with a handful of horses from our herd, all sniffing the air and tossing their heads.
“What is it?” I asked her.
“Danger,” she said. “Two-legs. They hunt other two-legs.” She focused her eyes on a shadowy shape rushing across the field, then on the cluster of similar shapes several dozen yards behind it. “They hurt herd-mate.” She lowered her head and sniffed the writhing body of one of the pack horses, who appeared unable to stand.
Eyes wide, I reached for Jason, my fingers digging into his forearm. “It’s people.” I didn’t waste time wondering how I was able to sense some of them. All that mattered was relaying the message. “They’re coming here…chasing another person, and there’s more of them than I can sense—maybe six? Or seven? They hurt one of the horses.”
Jason’s eyes searched mine. “Where?”
I pointed to the portion of the field Wings had shown me.
Jake jumped down from the wagon and whistled three times, paused, then repeated the sound. It was our holy-shit-we’re-under-attack signal. We’d sounded it before, but it had always been a false alarm. This wasn’t.
The Ending Series: The Complete Series Page 103