…
“Cat,” Margot says, preening at me through the mirror. Her hair is long and loose over her shoulders, a wave of burnished auburn. Around her brow sits a beautiful wreath of white flowers, tightly woven together. I’m surprised that, even after a full day of wear, the petals haven’t wilted. My sister smiles at me. I feel that familiar tug inside me. She’s happy again, safe. It’s more than I could have expected. I find myself at once delighted and oddly humbled by Margot’s mood, and I can only put it down to Ali’s influence.
Alastair and Tomas have called on us at school for several days now as we finish our last few sessions. They arrive each day at the same time, during our midafternoon break when the sun struggles to break through the clouds. Always outside in the quad, though I never do manage to ask how they break in. We’ve attracted quite the following of girls who sigh and talk behind their hands as the boys stride across the long yard, angling for us.
With each visit, they come bearing something new and interesting: a book of poetry, small enough to fit in my hands and so ancient it nearly falls apart at the touch. A bunch of white daisies that push Margot and me into raptures, especially when Tomas shows Margot how to weave them into a crown. And still, though it’s all harmless enough fun, each time I see them, my heart sinks. I find myself searching behind them for a shag of sunny blond hair and a ridiculous T-shirt.
Awful pangs of conscience haunt my days and nights. Jared has been kept busy for the past few days. He doesn’t yet know about Ali’s illicit visits to Grayguard. Ali appears in the courtyard like magic, while Jared, acting as my merc, obeys the rules and stays at the front doors. He also doesn’t know about Ali’s gift. Like the coin that hangs hidden under my blouse, Margot and I have kept these little secrets to ourselves.
The necklace turns into a noose. I feel guilty. And then I get mad at myself that I feel guilty. And then I can’t wait for him to see the coin hanging from my neck, to ask about it. I rehearse the scene in my head, over and over again. Why, just a little token from Ali, I’ll tell Jared. A friendship necklace. Next I imagine the indigo flashing with green. The low, purring voice before his lips would come down on mine. As long as he knows you’re mine, Princess.
My scheme is so clumsy, I scold myself. Margot would do it much better. And I’m not Margot.
“Canary.” I peek out at Margot with one eye, finally answering her call to the game. I stretch out even further on her bed, wishing I could curl up and nap. Storm has had a number of political meetings of late, which means I get my exam review finished before and after the late-night talks. I’m not a complete failure yet, although with such an uncertain future, I’m not sure it matters. Still, I want to take a night off and be just Lucy again.
“You’re really going to make me drag it out of you?” Margot turns abruptly, and her skirt billows out around her. Hands on hips, she gives me her best fake glare.
“What?”
“This!” she squeals, touching her finger to the bright golden coin. For just a second it’s as though the coin joins us with electricity. Margot pulls back and sucks on the end of her finger with a hasty, “Ouch!”
“Ali gave it to me. It was in his family for eons.”
Margot rolls her eyes. “Of course Ali gave it to you.”
I don’t appreciate her tone. “What do you mean by that?”
She pauses, my beautiful twin, and regards me with wise, sad eyes. Adjusting her crown of flowers, she sits carefully beside me on the bed. “You really don’t get it, do you?” she says with a soft sigh.
“Get what?”
“Lu.” Margot stretches her fingers across my hand. “He’s courting you.”
My head whips back as though I’ve been struck. “He is not! He said it was just a friendship present.”
“And you believed that crock?” A grin bursts across Margot’s face. “He is, too! And how!” She cocks her head. “Just what exactly do you think all these presents and visits at school are for?”
“Ali is my friend,” I fire back defensively. “We’ve been through a lot together.”
She continues as though I haven’t even spoken. “And he visits you at school, away from the prying eyes of a certain green-eyed monster merc.”
I can’t even pretend I don’t know who she’s talking about. “So what? Ali knows how I feel about Jared. And I told Jared that I’m not going to stop being friends with Ali just because he gets all primitive hunting cat.”
“Lu!” Margot snaps her fingers before my nose. Her hands come up and cradle my face as she pins me in place with a fake glare. “Get real. Ali has presented himself to you—to your guardian—as your protector. And he’s given you a family heirloom.” For a brief second a crooked smile ghosts across her lips before fading. “He’s going to declare himself to you, if he hasn’t already.” My face blushes with heat. Did my discussion with Ali about the necklace count as a declaration? Had I been leading him on? “And I—I reckon you’d be safer if you left with him, but…I don’t know if I could go with you.”
It’s as though I’ve been sucker punched. All the air in my body leaks out. “What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Lu.” Her words are coated with unshed tears. “Ali will want this to be fast. Lightning-quick courtship followed by the bells and banns. Then he’ll sweep you away so you don’t have second thoughts.”
Is Margot right? Would Ali want to marry me? Would I want to marry Ali? No, a voice inside me all but shouts. Not Ali. “You make it sound like a murder.”
Margot touches the complicated antlers on the golden coin once again, and once again, a little zap pokes us both.
“It keeps biting me,” she jokes, sucking on the tip of her finger. “Come on, little sister.” She tugs at my arm, lifting me off the bed. I roll my eyes, knowing that this can’t end in anything good, whatever is in her mind. She trolls through my closet, finding a dress with a plunging V neckline that shimmies across the knees. “Put this on,” she says imperiously. “Tonight we’re going to have some fun.”
11
It takes all my willpower to keep my eyes off the merc in the driver’s seat. I cross my ankles for the fourteenth time, smooth my dress over my legs, and stare out at the ruinous streets of Dominion.
Overnight, it seems, the streets have transformed into a war zone. Red paint zigzags across the tops of buildings, the strange pair of crossed eyes staring down at the city like demented parliaments of owls. “What do you reckon they’re really after?” I muse aloud. The words sting the silence of the car, where Margot and Storm and I have been stiffly sharing company. So much for my sister’s idea of a fun evening.
Storm’s deep bass voice rumbles the hair on the back of my neck. “The Watchers, you mean?”
“Yes. I mean, why the soapboxing? Why the circles?”
Storm’s chuckle is awful. I feel him, as much as I see him, lean forward on the seat. His spectral crown tips forward, its many points spreading out like spears. “I think only the Watchers know for certain. But if I had to guess, I’d say they are looking to convert the good citizens of Dominion. And propaganda works.”
“To what end?”
The outline of Storm’s broad shoulders lifts in a shrug. “They think the cure is out there. They think in terms of punishment and death and redemption. Those are powerful concepts.”
“Concepts,” Margot breaks in. She’s been staring out the windows this whole time, withdrawn and silent, though I’ve felt in her a rising bubble of anxiety before it popped and became something sweet and calm. “What about what’s real? What if they’re right? What if—what if somehow our blood could create an honest-to-god Plague cure?”
Storm’s eyes are preternaturally bright. He clasps his hands before him as he studies my twin. “Do you think it’s possible?”
“I don’t know,” she admits. We’ve not told Storm about what Doc Raines revealed to us, about our blood eating the blue-stained Plague. She taps the insides of her wrist. Pay attention.
“Doc Raines isn’t sure.”
“But it’s worth investigating?”
“Sure.”
Storm nods. One of his broad arms stretches across his body to point out at the wreck of Dominion, lit by corner fires and bordered by car apartments lining the sidewalks. “I agree. But more to the point, everyone out there thinks it’s possible. If nothing else, I would ask that you please don’t forget that, girls.” He addresses us both, but it’s Margot he pins with molten silver eyes.
Something beeps just then. In the driver’s seat, Jared grabs at his ear and speaks in a voice too low for me to follow. Storm leans forward, eyes blazing.
“Tell them I’ll meet them at the Junction.”
Jared spins in his seat and tilts his head at us.
Margot sighs heavily beside me. “We’re going back?”
Storm considers us for a long moment. “Tell them I will meet them at the Junction in half an hour,” he repeats. “Serena and Carl believe they have some important information that can’t wait until morning. But just because I’m being called away doesn’t mean that you should go home. The restaurant is safe enough, and I want you to still enjoy your evening. If Jared doesn’t mind stepping in as your dinner companion?”
My mouth gapes open. “I don’t—”
“Storm,” Margot breaks in. “Do you think you could take me home first? I’m not feeling well.”
I frown. Margot is not ill. I would feel that. She rakes her fingernail down the back of my hand. Let me go.
“Of course.” Storm gives us a regal nod. “I’m sorry about our evening.”
A vein jumps in Jared’s jaw as he turns back around and repeats Storm’s orders. My eyes catch on his in the rearview mirror, causing my heart to stutter.
“So we’ll just head home, then?” My voice sounds strangled.
“No. Please go, Lu.” Margot squeezes my hand. “Go with Jared. Is that okay, Storm?” I look over. Her oval face is so pale in the shadows, ghostlike.
“Yes. Of course. We can’t have Lucy missing out on her night of freedom.”
Margot lifts an eyebrow at me, as though for once she can tell what I’m feeling. I squeeze back, pasting a fake smile on my lips. I doubt I’ll fool Margot. But I’d like to at least fool Jared and Storm.
…
The car slips to the curb and Jared turns off the ignition. “I’m not exactly dressed for the occasion.” He’s not. Rather than a suit, Jared is dressed in a red plaid shirt, open down the front. Underneath he’s wearing a faded blue T-shirt, the neck stretched a little, as though he’s been tugging on the collar. A crude stick figure with scraggly strands of hair scratches his head across the front, question marks floating around him like butterflies. Jared’s pants have a hole in the knee, too, I recall, though at least he’s wearing shoes. He looks completely inappropriate for the swank four-star restaurant that we’ve rolled up to.
“Yes, I can see that might be a problem,” Storm says quietly. Then he strips off his suit jacket and yanks on his tie. Soon he starts popping open his buttons, one after the other.
“What are you doing?”
He grins but doesn’t slow down. Seconds later our guardian is naked to the waist. Like he’s been carved from fine ivory, every single one of Storm’s muscles is detailed and lean. His chest is broad, leading to the washboard of his stomach that bunches and curls with every tick of movement. But he’s too close. And I can’t forget the strange feeling I’ve been getting lately, that Storm’s agenda for me is not all custodial. I send a panicked glance out the window.
“Relax, Lucy.” He chuckles and raps on the glass. “Tinted windows.”
Margot’s appreciation for Storm’s chest unspools through me like hot threads that I try desperately to ignore. I shoot her a dark look as Storm tosses his shirt, tie, and suit jacket onto the front seat.
Without a word, Jared pulls his shirts over his head and plucks through Storm’s clothing. “They’ll be a little big,” he says wryly, holding up Storm’s shirt.
“I’ll owe you a new shirt,” Storm replies as he pulls on Jared’s faded tee. On Jared it was loose, comfortable looking. On Storm it becomes a second skin, showing off his obscenely cut torso and chest. Beside me, Margot squeaks, possibly in embarrassment or even outrage, as would be proper for a young lady of our Circle. But I know what she’s feeling…and it’s highly inappropriate.
“I’ll drive Margot home and rendezvous with Serena and Carl.” Storm nods at Jared as Jared pulls the tie over his head. “We’ll meet you at the front door or you’ll hear from us.” And then, quite unexpectedly, I hear a low, warm chuckle rumble from Storm’s throat. He pats my chin. “Your eyes are as big as plates, Lucy. Have you never seen a man’s chest before?”
I reckon everyone in the car can feel the heat of my blush right then. But I don’t bother to answer. I’ve seen a naked chest before—Jared’s, in fact, is one I’m quite familiar with. But no. What has me lightning struck is not Storm’s nakedness, nor his pure, ridiculous beauty.
Shirtless, Storm is like a figure out of a book: the ancient pagan god he claims as his heritage. Part forest, part beast, part man, he blazes wilderness from his eyes and savage kindness from his smile. I’ve always thought he seemed godlike, but now I know it’s true. Nolan Storm isn’t human at all.
And what I really can’t forget are the strange, shiny silver tattoos running up Storm’s back, curving hieroglyphics from one of his ancient books. It’s another elusive thing about him, ghostly markings kissing his skin, telling hidden stories I’d as soon not ask about.
…
Across the small, intimate table at Jacardo’s, Jared looks at me moodily below his ridiculously beautiful eyelashes and plays with the stem of his half-full wineglass. In a voice so quiet I wonder if I’ve imagined it, he says, “You’ve been avoiding me.”
“No.” I chew carefully through a bite of delicate greens. Then, before answering, I swallow a gulp of the excellent wine, one of the things this establishment is known for. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
Jared blinks and looks around the opulent, candlelit space. I can’t recall when candelabras became the rage for Upper Circle restaurants. It has become chic to pretend both poverty and class in the same breath—though having the candles certainly helps when the power goes out, as it does frequently. And candlelight does add a certain charm to the dining experience. It might even thaw some of the frost between Jared and me. I resist the urge to finger the golden chain hidden beneath my blouse. I’m not ready to answer questions about it, and I’d as soon have a happy night with Jared, or at the very least, conflict free. And it seems to be happening. Left alone in this setting with only soft, natural light flickering on our arms and faces, we seem to be slowly, carefully crawling out from our shells.
Following Jared’s lead, I look around me. Here and there scattered among the long room, tastefully dressed patrons dine in pearl earrings, suits, and dress jackets. The women are all carefully made up. Not a single Plague-ravaged limb to be seen. The waiters wear suits and carry themselves like royalty. Everything is understated, elegant, screaming quiet wealth.
It’s the world I grew up in. And I am ever more conscious of it as I feel the curious, stabbing eyes of the other diners, the quiet whispers behind starched linen napkins. That’s one of the Fox sisters. Who is that she’s with? Is she with a True Born?
As though he’s read my mind, Jared tips his head to the side and sends me a curious look. “Does it bother you?”
“What?”
His beautiful lips contort with disapproval. “What they’re saying about you.”
My hands curl around the napkin before me. I take a deep breath, let slip my napkin as I try to unbend my back.
I compose my answer carefully. “I can’t afford to let it.”
Jared surprises me by not replying. He stares hard at the room, chasing eyes away, and sighs. It’s a full minute before he speaks again.
“I’m not avoiding you. I mean—I a
m, but…”
“Why?” I hide my trembling fingers under the table.
“Because, Lu, if I spend any time around you both, I’ll be tempted to rip him apart with my bare hands.” Does he already know about Ali’s visits to us? Then my mind veers in another direction as under the table, something brushes the flesh of my hand, like the kiss of a tiny fish. Then Jared’s hands fold over mine, the heat searing. I close my eyes tight against the sudden, unexpected gesture. It leaves me feeling as though I’m about to crack open. ”And—and I want you to be able to spend time with your friend. Without worrying that I’ll kill him.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I feign ignorance. “Who?”
“You know who. That little weasel.”
“Jared.”
“What?” When I look up, he’s staring at me in frank fascination as I bite my lip. “How is it that you don’t have a clue how you affect the people around you, Lu? God, when I think back to how I used to think you were the most spoiled, rich brat in Dominion.”
Despite myself, I smile. Jared grins back, his dimples popping out as a lock of his hair hides his eyes, turning the hard merc boyish again. His fingers brush mine in the close of my lap before brushing my knee, my thigh. I gasp, my back straightening even more as my heart leaps. Jared’s grin deepens. His eyes grow sharp and start their telltale shift.
“Jared,” I say again, only it comes out breathless, uncertain. “We need to be serious for a minute.”
His hand pauses its investigations for a moment before continuing up my thigh. “Uh-oh. Serious doesn’t sound like much fun.”
I stop his hand with mine and shake my head slowly. “It’s too confusing.”
“Hey,” Jared soothes in a tender voice as his hand squeezes my knee. He means it to be reassuring, but it shoots flames straight through my body. I want nothing more than to kiss the panther man until we’re both weak with desire.
True Storm Page 11