Reckless

by Selene Charles

  She shook her head, latching her hands onto his wrists. “Cain, I—”

  With a greedy moan, he stole her words, swallowed them as he slipped his tongue alongside hers. He needed her, wanted her more than anything else in the world, but bonding to her now—it was wrong and it was selfish.

  The thought of Graham, or anyone else in this circus seeing her, wanting her, it drove him crazy. But Flint was only just coming into her own, and he needed to be strong enough to let her. Because if she did choose him, he wanted it to be forever.

  Chapter 15

  Flint

  Flint came awake slowly, feeling as though she’d never had a better night’s rest. She’d had no more visions; this time sleep had just been sleep and she was so grateful for that. She was just about to stretch her arms high above her head when it dawned on her that there was another very warm and very huge presence in the bed beside her.

  Heart pounding in her throat, she snapped her eyes opened and almost let out a shriek of surprise. Cain was the warm, hard blanket surrounding her.

  His arms and legs were tangled tightly around hers. She had her back pressed to his front, and somehow they had twisted like pretzels to make it work.

  Biting her bottom lip, stomach a knotted mess, she wasn’t sure whether to move or stay put. She was due at the training tent in about thirty minutes, but... Cain was sleeping with her.

  In her bed.

  All night!

  She vaguely remembered never actually telling him to leave, but sleep had been too pressing a call to ignore and she had passed out soon after that awesome kiss.

  Smiling from ear to ear, she decided that one extra snuggle into him wouldn’t hurt anything. Wedging her bottom as tightly against him as possible, she took several deep breaths of his unique, piney scent. Just then a groan that sounded sleepy and not fully cognizant rumbled past her ear.

  His hand, that she’d somehow trapped beneath her bottom, curled upward and a slow, exciting, yet terrible heat spread through her limbs like sun-warmed molasses. Cain was touching her.

  It wasn’t exactly an intimate spot, but... it kind of was. Her legs tingled, and she became aware that this wasn’t at all like the sleepover she’d had with Abel.

  Not wanting to move an inch and yet begging him silently to slide that hand forward just a little, she held absolutely still, like a deer caught in the glowing headlights of an approaching car.

  Mumbling cutely, his hand moved. But not down like she’d hoped, he’d wiggled it out from between the bed and her body and placed it, almost passively, on the curve of her hipbone.

  Blowing out a ragged breath and with fire still raging like dragon’s flame in her blood, she decided that she had to see his face. Even if it was just to see him laughing at her because he knew what she was feeling and he was torturing her on purpose.

  Rolling over was an odd ballet on the small bed. Her knees knocked into his thighs; her hands pushed against his chest to get the leverage she needed to turn. And when she did, it was to discover that he hadn’t been awake at all.

  Cain’s eyes were closed and fluttering, twitching every so often, as though in a deep sleep.

  His lips were slightly parted, and this time when it grew hard to breathe, it had nothing at all to do with the restless need she felt whenever she was around him. She’d never seen him look so peaceful. So relaxed.

  There was always an edge of fury that simmered just below the flesh of his skin. Cain walked around with a giant chip on his shoulder—the slightest of offenses could bring his beast roaring to life.

  She’d witnessed his rages now a few times. But here he was, this big, strong man sleeping soundly beside her.

  Her heart totally turned into a puddle in her chest at the thought of just how much he must trust her to let his guard down so completely.

  Unable to hold back from touching in some way, she grazed her fingertips along his brows. A soft sigh escaped him, as though even in his dreams, he knew it was her.

  Flint was turning eighteen in just a few more days. Somehow in all the drama and stress, she’d completely forgotten that fact. She was so young, and so was he. This shouldn’t be happening between them.

  Date, yeah. Hang out. Maybe go to a couple of dances, plan for that special prom night at some remote cabin in the woods. That was what she’d imagined she’d be doing at eighteen.

  But not this. Not this soul-deep bond that made her want to cry at the thought of him leaving her. At the thought of losing him.

  Flint hurt deeply at the loss of Abel. She felt his absence like a knife to the heart. He was her friend and she loved him dearly.

  But she was gone for Cain. Completely.

  When she thought of her life, of her next couple of years, she couldn’t picture a world without him in it. Without him looking at her the way he did now. Without his touch, his love.

  She continued to trace the sharp lines of his face. And when that was no longer enough, she scooted in just a little. Just enough that her nose aligned with the side of his jaw. Careful to keep her morning breath off him, she kissed his cheek.

  Cain’s flesh trembled.

  “I love you,” she whispered into his ear. “I don’t know when this happened to me, I think maybe the day you first watched me at my locker. I love you so much sometimes it’s scary.”

  He held absolutely still. So still that she knew he’d woken up, but he wasn’t opening his eyes. Maybe he enjoyed this calm, this quiet. Or maybe he wanted to hear more, but her heart was too full for her to say another word that wouldn’t end with her tears.

  Last night had been a nightmare, a terrible memory that she wanted to forget. But Cain had held her, he’d rocked her, and he’d let her cry. Let her be sad, and she would be forever grateful to him for that.

  Her mom had told her once when she was a very little girl that her heart was a lock. Men would come and they would go, and she’d be happy and sometimes sad, but she could make a good life with any of them. But only one man would be the key that unlocked her soul.

  Rubbing her nose along Cain’s morning-bearded cheek, and with fingers grown numb as she fully realized just who he was to her, she hoped that somehow, somewhere, her mother could see. Could know and see the truth too.

  Aware of the time and stomach growling fiercely, she made to slip away. But his hand was rough as he gripped her tight.

  Flint sucked in a breath at the sharp blue of his piercing gaze.

  “I love you too.”

  The words trembled through the air with a heavy weight of truth behind them.

  Biting down on her lip, the impulse was to fling herself at him. But instead she yanked her hand out of his and ran to the bathroom to change. Slamming the door behind her, she fought for breath. She braced her arms above her head and laid her head on the door.

  Abel came above everything else.

  She was a fae with no training.

  Layla was still out there. Still plotting.

  All those thoughts ran amok through her mind, but the loudest one was purely selfish.

  She was a virgin. But was Cain? He was nineteen; he’d probably had sex before. She was crazy to think she’d be his first.

  The thought hurt her and then freaked her out.

  By the time she finally finished getting ready and exited the bathroom, he was gone. The bed made, all traces of him vanished as though he’d never been there. Except for his scent, which lingered everywhere.

  A hard knock at the door startled Flint, and she spun on her socked feet, eyes going wide.

  Grace’s head poked inside. “Knock knock.”

  Letting go of a quivery breath, she clutched at her chest, which felt as though it were galloping ten miles a minute. “Nana? What are you... what are you doing here?”

  Glancing down at the bed, then up at Flint, her grandmother’s owl eyes turned soft and knowing. “So it’s like that, eh?”

  There was a smile on her face and no judgment in her words, but Flint still frowned.


  “No, it’s not like that.”

  It was odd to speak to her grandmother now—they’d not gotten a chance to speak after what’d gone down yesterday.

  Closing the door softly behind her, Grace stepped inside. There was a dark spill of cloth hanging over her arm.

  “Slight change in plan. Adam’s disbanding most of the circus for now. Crews are leaving even as we speak, but just to be safe, I came with this.”

  She held up the fabric, which Flint now noticed was actually a floor-length cloak with a heavy hood.

  “What?” Flint ran to her window, stunned to see a line of trailers moving out the gates of Diabolique. “Where are we going?”

  “We arna going anywhere.” Grace shook her head and set the cloak down on the bed, then walked over to Flint’s kitchen and grabbed a coffeepot before filling it with water.

  Sick to her stomach, Flint tried to run for the front door. She had to find Cain. Had to—

  “Flint. Stop. He’s not gone, nor will he be.”

  “Who? Cain?” she asked with her heart trapped in her throat.

  Grace nodded, pouring the water into the coffeemaker before she began rifling through drawers. “Aye, Cain. The bond between you two is far too great to risk a separation. Cain has not bonded to you as yet; without that bond he’s as unstable as a keg of dynamite. Bloody hell,” she groused, slamming the drawer closed. “Where do you keep the coffee grounds, git?”

  “I don’t. I just go to cook’s trailer.”

  With a glower that looked positively murderous, Grace curled her upper lip. “Cook’s gone, along with most of the circus at this point.”

  “Where are they going?” And most importantly, why.

  “Adam’s called in some favors from sister circuses to divide his people until the time comes that they can once more safely regroup.”

  She shook her head. “But why? Why is he doing this?”

  Grace sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, and her eyes grew distant. Flint knew the answer immediately.

  “My dad, because of what he did yesterday?” The tears she thought herself no longer capable of crying lumped in her throat.

  “That. And other things. Tempers are a spark away from igniting. After two weeks, it’s now safe to say that Layla isn’t here. Staying put any longer only paints a bull’s-eye on our backs.”

  “Who’s staying behind?”

  “Only those who now know about you. And Janet of course, since it’s not safe to move her. Easier to hide and keep you hidden until you come fully into your own.”

  She wrung her hands. “My dad?”

  “He’s going too, but he wants to see ya.” Grace pointed to the robe lying beside her. “Put that on, and we’ll go out there.”

  She shook her head. “Tell me the truth—is this really about Layla, or is this about protecting my identity? Because I’ll go. Take me to the caves, or whatever you have to do, but I can’t be responsible for—”

  Flint hadn’t realized she’d been walking toward her grandmother until Grace grasped her hand.

  “Nay, lass. It’s much more than just you.” She sighed, glancing off to the right, her gaze faraway as she said, “Janet is failing. Adam canna focus on her while also being responsible for running what has now turned into a charade.”

  “Yeah, but the circus was our reason for staying behind so that we could continue to hunt.”

  “The hunt ends. It has been fruitless and a distraction planned by the queen no doubt.”

  The pit of Flint’s stomach churned as the memory of last night came immediately to the forefront of her mind. That dream that the hooded fae had shown her. She could rip into the drone’s mind that way. She knew it, felt the tingling sparks of her energy roll through her blood, hot and ancient.

  She was coming alive. Becoming more. She sensed it, felt it in every woven thread of her inner core.

  Grace continued talking, unaware of Flint’s epiphany.

  “We’re going to regroup, try to find the lost trail that will lead us to her and—”

  “Nana.” She looked up. “I think I might know how.”

  Grace frowned. “How, lass?”

  “The visions I’ve been having. I don’t know how or who, but someone is teaching me things. About me, about what I can do, and I think...” She bit down on the inside of her cheek, feeling suddenly silly as she voiced her suspicions.

  “What, girl? You think what? Spill it.”

  Grace didn’t sound in the least bit like she didn’t believe Flint. In fact, it was just the opposite.

  She shook her head, feeling stupid but saying it all the same. “I think maybe I know how to make it talk. Cain doesn’t want me to do it because he’s afraid that the drone will hurt me in some way, but I swear to you I can—”

  Grace stood, moving with the sprightliness of youth as excitement visibly shone through her wrinkled countenance. “Then you do it, tonight. After we’ve all gone, gather your remaining forces, and we end this, Flint. We end this.”

  Feeling a bubble of excitement mixed with a heaping dose of anxiety, she shook her head. Maybe she could be helpful; maybe she could be the key to unlocking where Abel actually was.

  At the door now, Grace said, “Put on the robe, lass, and be quick about it. Frank and I leave soon.”

  And with those words, Grace exited the trailer.

  Fingers trembling with more than just nerves, Flint shrugged the voluminous robe on, slipped on a pair of sneakers, and followed Grace out the door.

  Her father waited below, and he was wringing his hands. He’d shaved, washed, and dressed in faded jeans and a loose-fitting shirt. He didn’t at all resemble the madman from yesterday.

  “I’m leaving.” He said it softly, glancing down at his feet.

  Inside the heavy folds, she’d hoped her magick might have been dulled enough where his fear of her would be gone. But judging by the way he trembled, the way the whites of his eyes grew increasingly larger and how often he swallowed, she knew nothing had changed.

  “Daddy,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

  Nostrils flaring, he whipped his head up. Not looking at her eyes, his gaze was fixed firmly at the point of her neck. “You never apologize, Flinty. Never. It kills me that I can’t control who I am when I’m around you. You’re my daughter. The greatest love of my life.”

  His voice shook, and it was all she could do not to throw herself into his arms.

  “I’m going to learn to control this. I’m going to get better for you.”

  “No,” he snarled.

  And for a horrible second, she feared that he was about to snap again.

  As though by magic, Rhiannon appeared at their side, Katy not a footstep behind her, both of them alert and ready to yank Frank away.

  He shook his head. “You don’t ever change for anybody else, not even me, baby girl. You get better for you.”

  A tear ran hot and thick out of her eye, momentarily blinding her. “Where are you going?” Her voice cracked.

  His smile grew lopsided. “Adam was kind enough to give us several options. I’m thinking New York.”

  He might not be able to see her under the hood, but her smile was watery. “You always did want to see the Big Apple.”

  Frank shrugged. “I just wanted you to know, Flinty, I didn’t mean those things I said.”

  He was gritting out the words, as though forcing them out. She saw the struggle—it was a relief knowing that all the horrible things that’d happened between them lately hadn’t been because of her or Katy’s influence at all, but rather due to an ancient magick out of her control. It was horrible losing her father, but at the same time, there was hope that down the road things would work themselves out between them.

  “I love you.”

  He sniffed, nodding swiftly. “And I’ll always love you, my little monkey.”

  Then, taking a step forward, he yanked her into his strong arms, and she melted against him for just a second, wishing he
didn’t have to leave, wishing none of this had ever happened to them.

  He began to squeeze tighter, his breath hitching, and Flint palmed his chest, ready to fling him back. But Rhiannon beat her to it.

  “Mr. DeLuca,” the kanlungan said softly but with a clear thread of steel to her words.

  With a grunt, her father turned on his heel and marched away from her. Flint could only stare with tears rolling down her cheeks as Katy threaded her arm through his, and with one final glance back in her direction, they were lost within the thick crush of the moving crowd.

  And for just a moment the people parted, and Flint’s tears spilled even harder when she spotted Eli and Carlito hugging their good-byes.

  ~*~

  Flint’s mood was sour when she walked into the training tent, but her foul mood turned suddenly cautious when she spotted both Cain and Adam standing at the center of the ring. In Adam’s hand was a wicked longsword that easily looked half his length, if not a little longer.

  Her pulse fluttered, and her palms grew moist.

  Cain’s jaw flexed as she drew nearer to them. In his hand he held another sword. Not quite as long as Adam’s, this one was narrower as well.

  She swallowed hard when she came to a stop.

  “Flint.” Cain said her name tentatively.

  Her hands lifted to the hood, snatching it back. She felt suddenly stupid in the dumb thing and she yanked it off, tossing it to the ground at her feet.

  “Everyone’s leaving,” she said. She wasn’t even sure why those had been the first words out of her mouth.

  Adam nodded.

  But it was Cain who spoke up. “After what happened yesterday with Frank, we could no longer take the risk of anyone else being exposed to you.”

  She winced at his words, tempted to snatch her elbow out of his grip when he came to her.

  “You know that’s not what I mean,” he said beneath his breath, touching her cheek with his fingers.

  Jutting out her jaw, cranky, but also knowing he had a point, she hissed, “Did you know last night this was gonna happen?”