Peering through the windshield, I spotted a stretch of curb large enough to accommodate the Jeep. As luck would have it, the only open space shared the diner’s side of the street. I sat close enough to smell today’s special and have my stomach rumble in response.
My feet itched to hit pavement, torn between running to Emma and going to Clayton. The temptation to tell my sister what I’d done and leave her to fix my mistakes tightened my fingers on the door handle. I hated that weakness in me. Relaxing my hold on the lever, I slipped my hand into my lap.
I cared for Clayton. I had been the one to hurt him and I would be the one to face him. I could understand Harper’s insistence that he clean up his own messes now, and respected his memory more for knowing he’d done the right thing no matter the cost. I would follow his example.
“Aren’t you going in?”
I started to find Figment, back on four legs and collared, sitting in the bucket seat beside me.
“Hey, I was worried about you.”
“Clayton sent me away.” Her fey voice sounded lost.
I twisted to face her. “Can’t you, I don’t know, pop in to see him?” Whatever the source of her magic, it clearly didn’t suffer the limitations of anything I’d encountered.
“I promised him I would stay with you.” Streaks of wet fur slicked to her cheeks. I didn’t think dogs could cry, but what did I know?
I scratched behind her silky ears and she leaned into my hand. Maybe Emma was on to something with this pet thing after all. Any other time, this contact would have felt nice.
A horn honked behind me as traffic started to back up. “Come on, girl. Let’s go see Clayton.”
Her tail thumped against the seat, and when I opened my door, she was the first thing through it. When I joined her on the concrete, her trotting gate forced me to jog to keep up. We reached the crosswalk before I realized we were being watched.
Standing to either side of the inn’s door were the males I’d seen earlier. The ones who had come with Dana to fetch Clayton.
Mason stood bulky and blond, blue-eyed with a grin creasing well-worn laugh lines. The male to his right was taller, leaner and less familiar. I crossed over to them.
Mason tipped his head. “Miss Madelyn, I don’t know that you’ll want to head in there just now. Dana has the women frothed up over Clayton’s condition.”
His partner’s gaze traveled over me. He didn’t look interested as much as irritated. “He’s right. She’s organizing a witch hunt and I’m afraid you’re the one left holding the pointed hat.”
I met the man’s quiet eyes. They were cold, and one didn’t match the other. Arctic blue clashed with vibrant green. A long scar began on his forehead, crossing over his nose and through his right eye to emerge at his temple before vanishing beneath his shaggy chestnut hair.
“I have to see Clayton.”
“You shouldn’t be left alone with any male until the next forty-eight hours have passed. You’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”
My ears burned with embarrassment. Figment pressed against my ankle. “You’re counting down the days?” Had everyone known about my cycle but me?
The male’s bicolored eyes crinkled at the corners, and I had the feeling that didn’t happen often. “We were trained to know, sweet.”
“Dillon.” The single word rang with warning.
My pulse kicked up a notch.
And Dillon knew it, too, because he smiled before continuing. “Your mother felt certain slave’s talents lied in areas beyond guarding a lady’s chamber door. Even First Court ladies have itches in need of scratching.” His fingernails lengthened and darkened. “And I found they liked my claws just fine.”
Figment snarled, moving to position herself between Dillon and me.
“That’s enough.” Mason’s glare said plenty.
Dillon leaned back against the inn’s siding. Speaking to no one in particular, he said, “She should move along now. Not that I don’t appreciate her bouquet, but I would like to avoid Clayton killing me for doing what I’ve been trained to do.”
Mason frowned at the male before turning his attention back to me. “He’s right. If you have to see Clayton, make it fast and then get the hell away from any males you’re not looking to claim.” He ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “It’s nice seeing you like this. Like someone reached in and turned all the lights on. It looks good on you.” His cheeks pinked.
Mine did too. “Thanks.” I stepped forward. “Excuse me.”
I passed between them and entered the lobby with Figment close on my heels.
The inn’s interior was classic country bed-and-breakfast with rich reds and gold covering the walls and floor. Comfortable, overstuffed furniture filled out the space. The cloying scent of potpourri hung heavy in the air, fighting it out and winning over the individual fragrances worn by the women milling around the room.
It was like I had walked in on a town meeting no one had seen fit to invite me to. Not that the old Maddie would have come. The males were right to warn me. All Dana needed was a bonfire and pitchforks because she had stoked the anger and indignation in the room to a fevered high. Mob mentality seldom worked out well for the target of all that pent-up confusion, and I could almost feel the bull’s-eye painted on my chest.
Dana stood with her back to me and addressed the room. “I’ve never seen anything so, so brutal.” She sniffled. “Madelyn just stood there, looking at Clayton like he was dirt on the bottom of her shoe. If the boys and I hadn’t happened to drive by, why, she might have left him out there to die alone.” Then she hammered the nails into my proverbial coffin. “She’s Askaran. What’s one more Evanti life to her kind?”
My fingers pinched the heavy seams of my jeans to keep me from snatching every perfectly coiffed hair from her head. Conversation ebbed as I reached Dana. I wanted to clean out my ears because I could not have heard her correctly. She glanced over her shoulder, caught sight of me and glared. Her next words, however, I heard just fine.
“You have a lot of nerve showing up here after what you’ve done.”
“I came to see Clayton.” Several faces scrunched up as if suddenly smelling something foul. Belatedly I realized the “something” was me. Obviously, I didn’t hold the same appeal in mated circles as I did among the unmated. That was good to know.
“Haven’t you done enough damage?” Dana crossed her twiggy arms across her thin chest. “I won’t let you upset him when he needs to rest.”
“I never meant to hurt him. You know what really happened. It was an accident.”
Her flushed cheeks darkened with embarrassment she was quick to cover. “What I know is that we all helped keep Clayton’s secret. We all wanted what was best for you, and this is how you repay us? Attacking our leader? His protection keeps our homes and families safe from your kind.”
She addressed the room. “You know what I think? I think she couldn’t stand looking in Clayton’s face and seeing the likeness of his brother. I think she wanted him dead too, because he looks like her precious Harper.”
I took a step closer. She took a step back.
“You met him three days ago.” She made her case before the others. “And today you almost killed him. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“Are you accusing me of something?” Dana was no Evanti, and in my hands her brittle human bones would break.
A throaty growl rumbling from down the hall ended our standoff.
“Let her come,” Clayton said.
And I answered, “Let them try to stop me.”
His words were my assurance. As I spun towards the sound, Dana’s grasping hands slid over my arm without purchase. Her location became distant and unimportant to me as I broke into the short hall leading to the first-floor suites.
Shrouded in darkness, a single shaft of light filtered through the narrow crack of a door left ajar. My palm rested on the satiny oak-stained panel for a second before I pushed inside.
Clayton s
at upright on the bed’s edge with his beautiful wings draped across his shoulders at rest. When he looked up, they flushed from carmine to scarlet, and he used glamour to conceal them from me. His shirt was gone, baring smooth skin bandaged with darkly tinted gauze. Pain emanated from him, so intense I took a step back before he thought to conceal that too.
“I didn’t expect to see you so soon.” His gaze roved over the ceiling, not seeing me at all.
“I was worried about you.” I stepped just inside his room.
“Leave the door open,” he said, and I did. “You shouldn’t have come. It’s not safe for you to be alone with me.”
“We’re not alone,” I reasoned with him. “There are dozens of colonists in the den and guards posted at the front door.” I pointed to the bed. “We still have our chaperone.” Figment lay pressed firmly against his thigh, her eyes blissfully closed and at peace by her master’s side.
He relaxed. “Good. That’s good.” His arms opened and I went into them, bracing my palms on the tops of his thighs and kneeling between his widespread legs.
He sat unmoving as I leaned my face against his bare chest and wrapped my arms around to where tension coiled low in his back. His muscles tautened beneath my fingers while mine went lax. Relief surged through me, and something more. Sheltered by this male’s body, I felt safe, protected. I felt like I’d come home.
“What happened out there?” I pressed the words into his skin.
“I succumbed.” His cheek came to rest atop my head. “I thought I could resist the call to mate, but I couldn’t.” He swallowed, dropping his hands to fist in the covers at his sides. “When you fell and your heart was racing, your body pressed against mine.” A shiver coursed through him. “I couldn’t resist.” Fabric tore. “I didn’t want to resist.”
I felt him tense and shift. “It’s okay,” I said as he gripped my upper arms gently. “It was my fault. I could tell you didn’t want to go, but I made you take me anyway.” He set me aside as he stood. “I’ve gone about this all wrong. Let me make it up to you.”
He ignored my concern and angled his chin towards the door. “I’m sorry you had to deal with Dana. She’s not usually so rabid, even where I’m involved.”
I pushed to my feet too. Looking so far up to Clayton put a crick in my neck. “It’s okay. She cares about you and she doesn’t like the idea of competition.”
“Damn it, she’s a friend, nothing more. I’ve tried to help her. I felt sorry for her, but after the way she treated you, even that label no longer applies.”
I shouldn’t have asked, but I blurted it out anyway. “Has she always been…just a friend?”
His eyes blackened. “Yes, she has never been more than a friend to me.” They shimmered into sterling awareness. “There has never been anyone for me but you.”
My hand raised to my throat, then slid lower to cover my heart, grateful for the cage confining it. “But you stayed away. Because Harper loved me?”
Clayton’s dry laughter was harsh, but self-directed. “I stayed away because you loved him. If I had only to risk my brother’s happiness…” His voice trailed off.
I couldn’t believe him. A male like Clayton wouldn’t have waited…how long had he waited? “I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t expect you to say anything.” He lifted a hand to quiet me. “You’re the next best thing to my brother’s widow. I have no right, no reason to hope you would claim me.” His hand dropped. “Please, just leave. I don’t want you to see me like this.”
“I—”
He lashed out, knocking a vase filled with flowers to the floor. Glass shattered and flowers rolled free of the wreckage. “You don’t owe me anything. God knows you don’t owe me any kindness. Not after what I’ve done to you. What I want to do to you.” He walked to the far corner of his room, turning his back on me. “Take Figment with you. You’ll need protection for the last two days of your cycle.”
So he was counting down the time too. I blinked back tears. “No, I’d rather she stayed with you. I’ll go to Emma. She’ll take care of me.” Like always. “Can I see you again? When this is over?”
He nodded once, sharply. He braced his forearm against the wall and leaned into it while he waited for me to leave. I backed out of his room and bumped right into Dana.
“Leaving so soon?” She slammed the door closed in my face.
I didn’t answer, just turned to leave when she grabbed my torn shirtsleeve. I glanced down at her hand and she released the fabric.
“I just thought you might want to know Jacob was released from custody today.” She looked thoughtful. “Something about the mix of pheromones and caffeine impairing his judgment kept them from pressing charges.”
My fingers trembled, so I shoved them into my pockets. “Clayton—”
“Doesn’t know and won’t know until he’s recovered.” She smiled and wiggled her fingers in a mocking wave. “Drive safely now.”
She slipped past me, cracking the door open and slinking inside Clayton’s bedroom. I almost reached out, but kept my hand at my side. He said there was nothing between them and I believed him. Whatever Dana’s game, it would end now, and I didn’t have to be here to witness it. I trusted the male and his word completely.
As I started down the hall, the big picture of my life blurred around the edges, refusing to let me call the image’s entirety into focus. Understanding eluded me while questions left simmering in my mind reached the boiling point. Clayton had exhausted the supply of answers he was willing to give, but I knew where to find more.
As I made my way through the den, the women shuffled aside to let me pass. The few males present kept their bodies between their wives and me. A few looked interested. A few more looked worried, but whether for me or Clayton I wasn’t sure. I felt the weight of their stares on my back as I pulled the front door open.
Crossing the threshold, I realized my mistake. It was dark and I was trapped. The visit with Clayton, coupled with Dana’s interference as I came and went meant I was leaving later than planned. And wasn’t that a happy accident? I would have to call Emma to come for me, which wouldn’t be pretty since I hadn’t bothered to call and tell her where I was in the first place. I spun back towards the door and stumbled as I passed the males still pulling sentry duty.
Dillon purred just off to my left. “She’s night blind. Just look at her, all wide-eyed and wandering.” His fingers tangled in my hair. “The truest earmark of royalty.”
“Let her go,” Mason commanded from somewhere to my right. A large hand closed over my arm and tugged me away, yanking hair from my head in the process. I found myself plastered against a body I assumed was Mason’s by his sheer bulk. His grip tightened possessively.
“Mason.” I slowly pulled back while trying to touch as little of him as possible. “Can I go now? Please?” He didn’t answer.
Heavy footsteps thumped dully behind me. Then I was knocked aside, stumbling into the gingerbread porch railing and grabbing it for balance. A thick pop of knuckle on bone sounded, someone grunted, and the boards beneath my feet shuddered. Then a colder, firmer grip held me. I breathed in mint and felt the presence of irritated male.
“I don’t care where you go or how you get there,” Dillon said. “But get there fast.” He dragged me along by the viselike grip on my arm. I heard the front door open and switches flipping as he smoothed his hand along the wall. The porch flooded with light.
My eyes swallowed the glare, focusing on Mason’s supine body sprawled across the porch where, presumably, Dillon had punched him and knocked him out cold.
“Mason is young, and he’d never forgive himself for hurting you. I don’t have that problem.” He dragged me to the edge of the lawn and shoved me out into the street. “Now go before I decide having you is worth having my ass handed to me. And I’m old enough to know it’s not.”
“Thank you.” I tossed the words over my shoulder. I used the sparse overhead street lamps to help me sort out
cars from hedges and buildings. After a nervous sprint across the pavement, the neon glow of the diner’s sign gave me direction. I took a few more lurching steps and pushed through the door into the restaurant.
For a change, Emma had hostess duty. Her gaze raked me from head to toe before directing her sight out the window and across the street. The curl in her upper lip bared more teeth than would make most of her patrons comfortable. I stepped up to the tiny podium covered in laminated menus. “We need to talk.”
She shuffled the already tidy cards. “Now isn’t a good time.”
“Make time.”
“Like you made time to call me?” She circled around and poked my shoulder with her finger, rocking me back on my heels. “You ran someone over and didn’t think to spare five minutes to call me and tell me you were okay?”
I grabbed her wrist, twisting her hand over and under, just like she’d taught me. Using her momentum, I brought her hand behind her back, pushing up to show her I meant business. There was only one way out of this hold and she’d have to break her arm to do it. I felt pretty confident she wouldn’t want the kids at table three to see that. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. It was stupid and thoughtless of me, but I’m here now and I want answers.”
She jerked her shoulder, testing my grip. When she only managed to pop her arm, she sighed. “Let’s do this in the office.”
I guided her forward. Situated behind the bustling kitchen, her tiny office held little else besides a secondhand desk and a chair that had seen better days before the five years we’d owned it. Corralling us inside, I released her arm and twisted the lock behind me.
She took her seat, rolling her worn chair beneath her battered desk and propping her elbows on the scarred surface. “What do you want to know?”
“I want it all. Everything you know about Clayton and Harper.”
Everlong Page 15