by Kita Bell
Everything went still and cold inside Eva. She shuddered. Brand needed to know about Rohe. Everyone needed to know about Rohe. People had to be warned, Rohe had to be stopped.
But the words stuck in her throat. They didn’t want to come out. God, how will he see me? She should never have let herself be taken. She was an idiot, a fool. Stupid. God, she was so stupid. So weak.
Eva forced her breath to steady and tightened her grip on the pillow as she opened her eyes again. She must have closed them. “What do you need to know?”
Joshua moved to stand beside Brand’s chair, peering down at her from dangerous, piercing gray eyes. The shadows seemed to roll around him, too dark, too real to be true. “Tell us everything,” he said.
Eva turned the shower on high and dropped her head against the square beige tiles as she stood beneath the hot stream. Too much had happened lately. She didn’t want to think about what Brand and Joshua were discussing in the other room. She didn’t want to think about what she had told them. She didn’t want to think about what they had told her.
The man from cell 113 was a Sakai.
Like Rohe was Sakai. Like the guards were Sakai. Blood-drinkers, Brand had told her matter-of-factly, not acting at all terrified or repulsed. But Eva’s own memories combined with those words and she felt perilously close to crumbling.
Whatever else Sakai were, they were as strong as she was – sometimes stronger. Perhaps faster. Definitely dangerous. And they had almost no scent.
Knowing the monsters had a name somehow made them real. More real. “I shouldn’t have let him out,” Eva whispered, staring at the chipped white paint of the shower ceiling as she thought about the man from 113. “I really shouldn’t have.”
Because they all were monsters. Even him. I should have just…left. But what could she have done? She had felt like she owed him. And he hadn’t attacked her. Or drank from her. Eva touched her unmarked neck, and despite the warmth of the spray, she shivered.
He had left that message beside her body: Take her and RUN. As if he had been trying to save her.
And God knew, she owed him another debt for that. Because the man – the Sakai – from 113 was the one who had killed Rohe’s guards, and saved her from being taken back. Or maybe he was just hungry and ate them first.
Eva didn’t know how monsters reasoned. Certainly not Sakai.
She didn’t know anything anymore.
The information Eva had given Brand and Joshua wasn’t much use. She hadn’t been able to tell them any details about Rohe or…or that room. She hadn’t been able to tell them about the man from 113. Or how she had watched Rohe eviscerate a guard – then put him back together again. Or the terror she felt when the guards surrounded her, breathing deep as they waited for Eva’s blood to flow while Rohe stroked her face and ordered her to Change.
God. Oh god.
Rohe had been so fascinated by her ability to Change.
Eva smacked her palm into the shower tile, and the pain in her wrist radiated up through her elbow to the base of her spine. It was sprained. The soles of her feet were tender, scratched from running on the blacktop in tiger form. The furrow where the bullet had gouged her shoulders was deep but already scabbed over, as were the cuts on her arms and neck. The mirror showed Eva’s back to be a mess of scratches and cuts, dirt and gravel. The pinprick where the guards had shot the tranquilizer into her was nothing more than a tiny scab beneath her left ribs. It all hurt.
But the pain grounded her, brought her back to present. Because that’s what Eva had learned from Rohe: pain could tear you down, break you, but sometimes – some days – it also centered you. The water from the shower was hot against Eva’s cheeks – no. No, she would not cry again. She was done being weak.
Eva shook her head and hissed as the spray dug into the wounds of her back. She searched for something else to focus on.
Brand. Brand was a good distraction. How would she describe him to Rainey when she got home? Sexy. Definitely sexy. Eva smiled, lowering the washcloth.
When Eva had told Brand about the cell, small gold lights had flickered in the depths of his sapphire gaze. There had been something about his expression…an understanding, a knowing? Whatever it was, it called to her. And the spiced scent of his large body had filled the small room, soothing her nerves even as it enticed her. After Rohe’s cell, even the hotel room seemed claustrophobic, but with Brand there, it…it hadn’t bothered her.
Just her luck. She was going to go and get attached to the man who had saved her. Wasn’t that some sort of complex? Didn’t humans have a name for it?
And it had been so long. Eva flickered her eyelids closed. Her fingertips glided between her breasts, down her belly, dipped into the cleft between her thighs. She traced the bundle of nerves, felt a faint distant pleasure that didn’t really want to happen. No, distractions aside, she wasn’t in the mood. If she tried to come this way, now, it would hurt more than pleasure her. And the two in the other room would smell her reluctant arousal.
“What am I doing? I’m better than this,” Eva muttered, shaking her head as she withdrew her fingers. The embarrassment wasn’t worth it.
Besides, after they delivered her to her Gens, she’d never see Brand Kade again. There, if Eva still wanted too, she could imagine him to her heart’s content.
A half-formed awareness tugged at Eva’s heart, whispering of a previously unknown need. This need drew her, almost stronger than her desire to go home to Rainey. Almost stronger than her desperation to push everything into the background, into the past so she could pretend nothing had ever happened.
Eva dismissed the awareness.
She shoved back from the hot water, washing her body with the motel’s harsh soap. Before Rohe had kidnapped her, her hair had been long and wavy, falling to her hips like her sister’s. But Rohe’s guards had cut it off, so now all she had was a ragged dark fringe that barely touched her shoulders. Before her mother had died, she had loved Eva’s hair.
Eva quickly worked the conditioner in, then finished cleaning the dirt and gravel out of her back. It hurt and the washcloth came away stained pink with blood.
Eva hesitated before she stepped out of the shower. When she returned to the central hotel room, there would be more questions. Questions she didn’t want to answer.
Coward. Darkness touched Eva’s vision: she should have fought Rohe from the beginning. She had tried, but – she should have fought harder. But she hadn’t, and monsters had taken her prisoner. Not monsters – Sakai.
She didn’t deserve to hide now.
Eva wrapped the towel around herself and unlocked the bathroom door to peer cautiously out. There was the soft sound of the TV, and the loud growling whirr of the heater. Greenish light from the TV screen flickered eerily in the semi-dark, and Eva studied the mirror’s reflection: Joshua was gone. Brand leaned back on the second bed, stripped down to an undershirt and dress pants. Eva traced the long lines of his body before her gaze rested on the corded golden strength of his arms; she licked her lips, clutched the towel tighter, then stepped into the room.
“I don’t have any clothes.”
Maybe Eva didn’t realize that – to him – this didn’t seem much of a problem. Or that Brand had seen her watching him in the mirror. So Brand only raised an eyebrow when Eva padded out of the bathroom, all long legs and silver eyes, before he shifted off the bed to pull the remaining clean clothes from his travel case. Underneath the grating scent of hotel soap he could make out the clear spring rain of Eva’s own scent; if possible, his erection got even harder. Brand forced levity.
“You should have asked to borrow some soap. Gods know, I can’t stand the smell of the stuff they use in these hotel rooms.”
Eva wrinkled her nose at him as she came around the corner of the bed, clutching the towel like a shield. But there was a faint smile on her face when she looked up and asked, “Are you telling me I smell bad?”
Brand grinned. “You smell great. That soap is an
other issue entirely.”
Those silver eyes flashed with humor as Eva held out a hand for the clothes. “Then, Brand, it’s a good thing I’m going home. Because I’ll be showering every chance I get.”
Brand hid a wince at Eva’s phrasing. Home. He had already lied to her. His amati – who had been kidnapped and tortured by a Sakai named Rohe, and who had lived in fear for her life less than twenty-four hours ago – expected him to take her home. To her home. She expected him to leave her behind in a godforsaken Gens in North Carolina, completely unprotected.
He wasn’t going to do that. But now wasn’t the time to tell her.
“You like water, do you?” Instead, Brand forced himself to relax back onto the bed as Eva went to change. “I’ve known Kaspian who couldn’t stand to live further than a stone’s throw from the ocean. And when the ocean’s lacking, a lake will do just fine in a pinch.”
“It’s not that,” Eva’s words drifted from the crack in the bathroom door. “But the sooner I wash the scent of…that place…off my body…” her words dwindled and Brand cursed himself. “Lemon scent isn’t that bad,” Eva finally finished, then came out and around the corner, and held up her arms; she looked on the verge of laughter. “You get used to it. But these clothes – they’re ridiculous on me, Brand.”
Brand examined Eva and chuckled. His blue sweater hung halfway down her thighs; the sleeves sagged off her arms, enveloping her hands. His eyes traced the lean curves of her body down to the hem of his sweater and stopped at a pair of sleek bare legs. Naked. “No pants?”
“No. I’ll have to wear the sweats again tomorrow.” She made a face. “Besides, if your sweater fits me like this, can you imagine what your pants fit me like? They’ll keep falling off.” He watched in fascination as a flush rose in her cheeks. “God. I’m sorry. You didn’t need to know that.”
Brand didn’t say anything immediately. He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his voice was rough, awkward as he tried to hide the sudden need of his body. “No matter. We’ll get you new clothes tomorrow. I’ll have Joshua locate a place.” He stopped, not sure how to get the image of Eva – and his memory of her naked body – out of his head.
Eva’s cheeks darkened as if she knew what he was thinking before she shook her head and settled on the opposite bed. “That’s…thank you.” Beneath her grace of movement she was limping, trying hard to hide it. Brand shifted to take Eva’s ankle in his hand.
“What…?” Her mouth dropped open. “What are you…no, you can just leave my foot alone. It’s…it’s nothing…” She balanced herself against the mattress, trying to squirm away.
Brand ignored the question and the squirming, cursing as he examined Eva’s foot. “I’m an idiot. I should have fixed this earlier. Are you sure you got all of the gravel out?”
“Of course I’m sure.” Eva said, sounding irritable. “It’s my skin after all. And just what do you think you’re doing with my foot?”
“Fixing it.” Brand probed the gouges, his self-anger growing. “Which I should have done earlier.”
Eva flinched from his touch. “It’s not going to get infected. I told you I cleaned the gravel out. I might not be a Kade but that doesn’t mean I’m an idiot.”
“No. Being a Kade has nothing to do with intelligence. I’m no healer, but I should have tended these earlier. I should have noticed these earlier.” Then, exasperated, “Lay still.”
Eva hissed, her eyes flashing gold. “My feet are really none of your business. So let go.” She jerked but Brand retained his hold, then reached to grip Eva’s hip rolling her on her side.
She struggled. “Brand!” Definitely angry.
“Hold still.” Brand sank his thumb into the ball of her foot, then reached to trace the raw gouge that ran down the fragile skin of her arch. Eva snarled, trying to twist away, but Brand gripped her tighter, smoothing his thumb along the outer edge of the wound as the healing ability rose in his blood.
“What do you…Brand,” Eva’s voice rose in angry embarrassment. “I don’t need a foot massage. Or whatever it is you think you’re doing. Just because you’re a Kade doesn’t mean that you can… Just…let go of my ankle.” Then, as Brand released his healing ability, Eva gave a startled gasp and turned against his hold to see her foot. She froze, staring in shock at the surface flesh knit together – and then stared at him.
“Healing is my secondary ability,” Brand muttered, feeling the blood rise in his cheeks and embarrassed by the stunned expression on her face. “I’m not very good at it – I’m no Samuel Gaviros. Or Matthias Iah. But I have enough ability to fix this.” Brand avoided her gaze and spread his power into the lacerations, watching as the scabbed flesh smoothed and set together. Brand couldn’t fix Eva’s wounds, not entirely – he wasn’t that good – but at the least he could ensure there was skin or scabs covering the injuries, not raw flesh. He could make sure she wasn’t in pain.
He heard Eva swallow.
“Brand, this is…amazing. Wait. Secondary ability? Tigers in my Gens barely have a first ability. Or any ability at all. So if this,” she reached out, touched her fingertips to the back of his hand as if somehow trying to feel what he was doing, and his skin tingled, “is your secondary ability, what’s your first?”
Shouldn’t have mentioned it. “Nothing you need to concern yourself about,” he said curtly.
Which was a lie. If Eva really was his amati, he would have to tell her…sooner or later.
Eva tensed. Her clean scent stained with irritation, and Brand glanced up in time to see her irises flash gold. “What?”
“Just when I think you might be nice, you say something and come off as a complete ass.”
Brand grimaced and looked back down at her injures; he switched feet. There was a pause. “My sister might agree with you.”
Eva straightened. “You have a sister?”
“One.” Then he shook his head, correcting himself. “Two. Well…three, in a way. Elisaie died long before I was born. The other…” …the other was Lis, Khael’s amati. Not his blood-sister, but his heart-sister. But Lis wasn’t someone he talked with anyone about. “My second sister died many years ago. As for Nikandria – we practically raised Nikandria.” Brand smiled as he pictured his youngest sister. “She would have called me an ass to my face. She might have been right, too. Occasionally she is.”
Eva laughed, relaxing beside him. “Not ‘might’ have been right. ‘Would’ have been right. I have a sister too,” she said softly. “Rainey.”
“Any brothers?”
“No. Just Rainey and me. We were close, even before our mom…died. Rainey would do anything for me. And I’d do anything for her,” Eva finished softly, and Brand studied her face. It was troubled, pensive. “We used to dream about leaving the Gens together. Rainey wants to go to Seattle. But I,” Eva shrugged, “I don’t care where we go. So long as we were gone. But now I’ve left, and Rainey…” Eva shook her head, falling silent as she stared at the wall of the room.
Brand drew back when he had healed the skin of her feet enough that Eva could walk with a minimum of pain. “Your back, Eva,” he said quietly, not wanting to break the mood between them. “If you’ll let me, I can heal that too.”
Eva didn’t protest, just shifted onto her front, pulling up the long blue sweater from her body. Brand stifled a growl at the smooth curves of her backside – the lush bottom, the lean waist and delicate arch of her spine. Exquisite legs, made to wrap around a man. He wanted – no, craved – to run his hands down her smooth skin. He craved to taste the softness of her curves.
A wave of possessiveness crashed over him – a wave that he tried to deny, to hold back. Except, surreal as everything felt – she was his. Eva was his. That he felt to the center of his soul.
Hell, she belonged to him. She just didn’t know it yet.
A little seduction wouldn’t hurt. Would it?
Eva’s face rested on her arms, her dark wavy hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her pure, sprin
g rain scent surrounded him.
Fuck. Brand gritted his teeth as his cock hardened. He had it bad for this female. Painfully bad.
Was that normal? Hell, he supposed it was. He’d teased Seth about the bond often enough over the years.
But fuck. He stared at the abraded stretch of her back. At the moment she was relaxed – at the moment she trusted him.
That wouldn’t last for long. Not after he told her that she wasn’t going back to North Carolina.
He didn’t know if he wanted her, he didn’t know how she was going to fit into his life. Everything about him felt tentative in regards to Eva, and yet…like hell he was going to leave his amati wandering around in the world to die, as Khael had done.
That was a mistake he would never make.
That was a pain he never wanted.
Brand sighed and carefully settled his hand over the fine arch of Eva’s spine. Then he gently ran his fingers down the abrasions as he summoned the remains of his healing ability. Eva shivered beneath his touch, goosebumps springing up along her skin.
Then, the faint clean scent of sweet arousal.
Need – and Khael’s memories – hit Brand like a sledgehammer.
…and he knew: my amati. She is my amati. By all that is holy – I must keep her safe. Must find her. She is alone. Ill-trained. Travelling through mortal rabble and blood-mad Sakai. By gods, I will throttle her when I find her! No, I will kiss her. I will take her, and I will Marque her, as she Marqued me. She is mine.
What I said. Gods, what I said to her. I should have listened…
Choking, smothering, guilt.
Pain. Loss – despair.
…and Brand ripped away, forcing everything back. His heart pounded, his hand still rested on the warm skin of Eva’s back, but now it shook slightly. He breathed in her scent, centering himself. Six centuries. The first goddamned time the memories overwhelmed me in six centuries.