by Amy Miles
Roseline frowns. She decides to test his resistance. “What did you have in mind?” she asks, her voice low and sultry as she steps closer. She marks the increase in his pulse and still he resists.
He wants her, there is no doubt about it, but somehow he is able to keep his wits about him. Gabriel shrugs and, instead of moving closer to her, he actually backs off. Leaning against the bleachers, he glances away.
Roseline bites her lip to silence her cry of indignation. No man, human or otherwise, has ever backed away from her once she decides she wants him. Gabriel, unknowingly, has just physically rejected her.
She has seduced many humans over the years, each time to spite Vladimir, but never once has one of them had so much control around her. Gabriel is not only holding his own, he is actually making Roseline beg for him.
“Oh, there you are, Rose,” Sadie gasps, holding the stitch in her side as she rounds the corner with William right on her heels. Her eyes open wide—rain-streaked mascara lines her cheeks—as she notes Gabriel’s presence. William glares openly at the quarterback, obviously not the least bit happy to find Mr. Popular moving in on Roseline. His fingers dig into the Styrofoam cups; cocoa flows over his fingers.
“Nicolae said you wandered off with some guy, but I didn’t think it would be him,” Sadie says, jerking her head toward Gabriel.
“And what were you two doing back here in the dark, Gabe?” William asks.
“What’s it to you?” Gabriel challenges, turning to face off with William.
“Enough,” Roseline snaps, quickly inserting herself between them. “Gabriel and I were talking. That is all.”
“So, you do know my name,” Gabriel grins, backing away. “And you’re Rose, right?”
Roseline nods, painfully aware of the tense situation she has caused. She glances at her friends before turning toward Gabriel. “I guess that answers your question.”
“Yeah.” Gabriel frowns, his smile drooping with disappointment. “I guess it does. I’ll see you around.”
She turns her back on him, refusing to give in to the urge to watch him walk away. Sadie pounces before he rounds the corner. “What on earth are you doing back here with Gabriel Marston? Didn’t I warn you about him?”
“Of course you did, but it was completely innocent.”
Well, almost innocent, she silently amends.
“Nothing happened,” she insists, annoyed that she has to defend her actions.
“Sure, that’s all Gabriel ever wants to do with beautiful girls,” William scoffs.
Roseline eyes him up. His possessive nature is beginning to grate on her nerves. Her brief meeting with Gabriel has really thrown her for a loop.
To add more fuel to the fire, Nicolae chooses this moment to pop his head around the corner. “Everything alright?”
Sadie groans loudly, whirling around. “I said wait by the car, Nicolae. Can you not understand basic English?”
He raises his hands in surrender and turns, but not before glaring icily at Roseline. He has made his presence known and that irks her. Nicolae is checking on her or, more accurately, he is checking on Gabriel.
William chucks the nearly empty cups aside as they head toward the parking lot. “So, are we gonna party or not? Sophie Reynolds is throwing a huge bash at her house tonight. Wanna crash?”
“I’m game,” Sadie grins, wiping the mascara smudges from her face. Instead of looking like a raccoon, she almost resembles a zombie on Halloween. Roseline is pretty sure that is not the look Sadie is going for.
Roseline shakes her head. “I think I would prefer to return home. I’m feeling a tad flushed at the moment and should probably retire for the evening.”
Sadie rolls her eyes. “There you go again. I thought you had that proper lady talk tucked into bed. What’s with you?”
Holding her forehead, Roseline winces. Her face feels warm, boiling actually. It isn’t possible for her to get sick, and yet there is an obvious fire burning deep within her. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel very well.”
William cuts off Sadie’s protests as Roseline wavers on her feet. He scoops her into his arms and carries her across the parking lot. Roseline’s head lolls to the side as a jacked-up Jeep guns past them. Gabriel’s eyes lock onto Roseline from the passenger seat.
Her stomach flips. She pulls out of William’s arms and drops to the curb. Dry heaves attack and acid burns her throat as she gives in to this mystery illness.
“Holy crap,” Sadie gasps as she wraps her arm around Roseline’s shoulders. “She’s burning up. Will, get the car.”
Her voice fades as Roseline passes out.
Stuttering brakes rouse Roseline. She groans and peels her cheek off William’s leather backseat. “Want me to carry you inside?” William offers.
“No. I can manage.” She slips from the car, unlocks her door without a goodbye wave, and crawls up to her bed.
Eight
“What’s with you, man?” Oliver asks, shoving his friend in the shoulder. Gabriel is zoned out, completely oblivious to the blaring music, the stench of vomit wafting from the overflowing toilet down the hall, and his wanna-be pole dancer girlfriend using his leg for an impromptu dance. “Claire is all over you.”
Gabriel pushes up off the couch, spilling a very drunk Claire onto the floor. He stumbles over her, not caring to stick around to hear her shrill ranting. He needs air. He pushes through the back door and falls onto a plastic lounge chair.
Staring up at the stars, all he can see is Rose. Her silky skin, long delicate bronze tresses, gorgeous eyes that see right through him, and the full lips that he knows will haunt his dreams. He doesn’t want to be at this party. He does not want Claire dry humping his leg like a dog in heat. He wants Rose—beautiful, mysterious Rose.
What is it about her that feels so right? He has dated several girls over the years, but none have ever gripped him so tightly. Nor have they felt electric to the touch.
Gabriel buries his head in his hands. He clamps his eyes shut as the world begins to spin. Drinking was a really bad idea, but he needed to take the edge off. Now all he’s managed to do is compound his problems.
He sinks to the ground, disappearing into the shadows as he crawls on hands and knees to the cool damp grass. It feels like slipping into a refreshing pool on a sweltering day. His skin is on fire, fueled by a bubbling volcano in the pit of his stomach.
Something is wrong. Very wrong. This isn’t because of drinking—something much worse is happening.
Pain radiates through Gabriel’s chest, squeezing his heart and wringing the air from his lungs. His fingers claws in the dirt, inching toward the floodlight illuminating the deck. He can see people dancing just beyond, their movements distorted in the strobe lights. Loud music rattles the windows, blocking out his cries for help.
He rolls onto his back as the pain spirals out from his heart, racing through his veins. His fingers fumble in his pocket for his cell phone. It falls onto the grass beside him. Gabriel grits his teeth against the pain as he tries to still the trembling in his fingers long enough to dial 911.
It’s a struggle to breathe as he writhes on the ground. His shirt and pants soak through but it does little to ease the flames under his skin.
He feels something shifting—as if his entire genetic code is adapting. The fires begin to smolder, retreating back to his core. It rounds his heart and shoots out through his eyes. The pain vanishes as a pure blue light explodes from between closed eyelids.
Energy floods through his body. His mind screams in ecstasy as his cells erupt with sensitivity, overwhelming his senses.
Gabriel passes out.
Nine
Roseline tosses and turns in her sleep, plagued by the same dream that has repeated every night since her encounter with Gabriel after the state qualifiers. Images of him bathed in a brilliant blue light burns into her retinas. The sensation of being cocooned in his arms brings tears to her eyes. Some part of her brain acknowledges that it is a dream, but it
feels like something more—something tangible.
Blinking away sleep, Roseline groans as she sits up on the edge of her makeshift bed. She rubs her neck, feeling the familiar ache she has come to expect each morning from her lumpy mattress. She vows to go bed shopping before the week is out.
Her bedroom, if she could really call it that, is sparsely furnished. A long, solid wood slab runs the length of the far wall. A rickety stool stands under the makeshift table. On top of it lies a computer she purchased the day she arrived in Chicago. Standing in the sleazy pawnshop, Roseline had promised herself she would only use it to contact Fane in case of an emergency, but her self-control is beginning to wane.
There is only one reason why she would give in now—Gabriel. It has been a week since they spoke at the football game and she has done her best to avoid him since then. Sneaking around behind his back is beginning to wear thin, especially when a huge part of her wants nothing more than to snatch him into the janitor’s room and kiss him until he faints, but she cannot even think about letting that happen. A relationship with a human, especially this human, is far too risky.
But that risk, the thrill of “what if,” has brought her to this moment. Staring across the room, Roseline eyes the machine that can instantly connect her with the only person who truly understands her. Of course, Fane will think she is crazy. A growing obsession with a mortal? Ludicrous. Fane would listen and try to help her, but he would also try to track her down.
“Not today,” she mutters as she slips into her robe and steps out into the hall. Her fingers trail lightly over the aged wooden banister. The stairs creak underfoot, echoing loudly through the empty house.
Stepping nimbly over the cigarette burned carpet in the living room, Roseline heads for the fridge. The heavy metal door squeals as it swings open. “Drat,” she groans, remembering that she was supposed to have gone grocery shopping.
When was that? Yesterday? The day before? Roseline rubs her palm against her forehead. The days of the past week have passed in a blur. Gabriel consumes her thoughts far more than he should and she can’t figure out why.
With a heavy sigh, Roseline heads back through the living room, not even caring to glance at the sparse boxes stacked in the corner. They are not her stuff and, from the musty odor coming from the loose lid, there is certainly nothing of interest in there.
The dining room holds the most furniture in the entire house. A painted hutch sits in the corner, layered with an inch of dust. An old wooden farmhouse table fills the rest of the room, its long benches tucked underneath. Past that, a bathroom stands off from the main hall, its pink tiles glaring obnoxiously at anyone who dares to enter the time warp.
“I really should get out today,” Roseline mumbles as she gives up her aimless wandering and heads back upstairs. Rounding the banister, she heads into one of the spare rooms. She uses this one as her makeshift closet. Designer store bags stack high in one corner, empty of their purchases. Piles of clothes, laid out in perfect condition, litter the floor. New wardrobe: check.
Sighing, Roseline grabs an outfit from the top of a pile and heads to the bathroom. Her love for all things fashion refuses to allow her to don a baseball cap so, twenty minutes later, she settles with combing her hair straight around her face to help conceal her identity. Checking one last time to make sure her makeup has helped tone down her appearance, Roseline heads out.
She is not sure where she is heading until she looks up to find that her feet have taken her right to Sadie’s doorstep. It’s only been a couple days since she was last here, although she struggles to remember why at the moment.
Movement in the upper window of the house next door catches her eye but the curtain flutters back into place before she can make out the person concealed within. Roseline frowns.
“Well hello, Rose. Did you do well on that Chem test you and Sadie studied so hard for? Sadie swears she aced it but I have my doubts.” Mrs. Hughes smiles as she opens the glass-paneled door. Her sapphire blue robe is tucked tightly around her slender figure.
“I believe I did well enough,” Roseline says, thankful for the reminder as she steps over the threshold and dips low to slip off her boots.
The scent of vanilla invades her senses. Sadie’s mom appears to have the same affinity for scents as Sadie’s does for wardrobe changes. “Sadie, Rose is here.”
Thundering footsteps race down the carpeted hall. Roseline smiles as she hears abuse slung about from upstairs. “Back off, she’s my friend.”
“How do you know she came here to see you?” William protests.
Sadie snickers as she rounds the corner. “You are so desperate.”
“Hi.” Roseline grins, amused by their state of dress. William stands in the doorway, wearing only plaid pajama bottoms. His hair is heavily tousled, sticking up in the back like a peacock. Roseline tries not to admire William’s bare chest, but it is smooth and toned, far more appealing than she would have guessed under the ratty t-shirts he loves to wear.
What amazes Roseline the most is Sadie’s transformation. Without her dark eye shadow, rocker shirts, and cutoff jeans, she actually looks lovely. “Wow, Sadie, look at you.”
Sadie rolls her eyes. “I know. I look terrible without makeup.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You look amazing.”
“See, told you so. No one likes your Goth look.” Mrs. Hughes grins as she pokes her head into the room.
“Mom,” Sadie hisses, shooing her mother away. Mrs. Hughes takes the hint and disappears, but not before she plants a kiss on Sadie’s forehead. “She’s so embarrassing.”
Roseline smiles, wishing she could’ve had that kind of relationship with her mother. “I apologize for the early hour. I couldn’t sleep and decided to take a walk.”
William throws himself onto a leather couch. Reaching for the remote, he switches on the massive flat screen over the fireplace. He flips through several channels before settling on an animated children’s show. Roseline raises an eyebrow but Sadie just waves it off. “He’s still into cartoons. Loser.”
“I heard that,” he calls from the other side of the couch. He has sunk so low Roseline can’t see anything more than his leg slung over the end.
Sadie heads back toward the stairs. “Come on up. I gotta get dressed anyways.”
Roseline follows Sadie up to her room. Glancing toward William’s partially open door she stiffens when she realizes the room is occupied. Nicolae has his back turned toward the door. She spies a mass of scars along his back before he rushes to pull his shirt down over his head.
When he turns toward her, his gaze is harsh. Roseline gets the “mind your own business” message loud and clear before Nicolae shuts the door in her face. She frowns and follows Sadie into her room, closing the door behind her.
“What’s with Nicolae?” she asks, watching her friend belly flop onto her bed. Roseline settles for an oversized neon pink beanbag by the window.
“What do you mean?” Sadie asks, instantly bored with the topic.
“The scars. Haven’t you noticed them before?”
Sadie sits up. “What scars?”
“On his back.” She begins to question what she saw when Sadie’s brow knits together. “You’ve never seen them?”
“Nope, but I’m not exactly trying to see him with his shirt off either.” Roseline can’t help but think that if Sadie had seen him back in Brasov she might have a different opinion of meek little Nicolae. “That guy gives me the creeps.”
Roseline nods in agreement, but she knows her reasons are much different from Sadie’s. “So is he still stalking you?”
“Night and day. The guy won’t leave me alone for a second. He’s always watching me.”
“I think he likes you.”
Sadie grits her teeth at the thought. “Yeah, well I’m off the market. I am officially done with boys. Besides, he’s kinda freaky, ya know? Like how he is always offering to help me out of the car or get my lunch tray? It’s almost like h
e’s trying to be the perfect guy.”
“Maybe I should talk to him,” Roseline offers, rising from her seat.
Sadie laughs, rolling out of bed. She grabs a rumpled towel off her computer chair, giving it a quick sniff test before shrugging and tossing it over her shoulder. “What could you possibly do to scare him off?”
Roseline grins. “You never know.”
She slips out into the hallway as soon as Sadie disappears into her bathroom. She turns and bumps straight into Nicolae.
“Do you mind?” he mutters as he bounces back against the wall. He tries to move away but Roseline’s hand lashes out, clamping tightly around his forearm. Nicolae flinches at her warm touch but says nothing. Roseline can feel his anger radiating off him.
“I thought I made myself clear the other night,” she growls in her native tongue as she pulls him close.
“Ah, there you are, Nicolae. I was beginning to wonder if you were up as well.”
Roseline instantly releases his arm as Sadie’s father exits his room at the end of the hall. “Morning, Rose. It seems I have you to thank for my family’s early rising.” Mr. Hughes yawns, plodding past them in his stripped PJs and slippers. He descends a couple of steps before turning back.
“I’d forgotten that you two were from the same country. Small world, eh?”
Roseline smiles as he disappears down the stairs. She turns her attention back to Nicolae. He meets her icy glare head on. No backing down. Roseline’s lip curls into a snarl. Her mind explodes with imaginary red warning flags. Nicolae is far more than he appears, certainly not a typical school boy.
“Leave Sadie alone.”
“Or what?” Nicolae challenges. “You’ll kill me?”
“Don’t tempt me.” Roseline’s face clouds with anger. “You know I can. In fact, I think I would rather enjoy it.”
“I don’t doubt that, but I doubt you would do it here, with witnesses.” Nicolae’s smirk tightens as he takes a step toward her. “I’m not afraid of you.”