What a completely crazy human. On her planet, Tawny would be in a cell right now, down in the kelarian dungeons of Helker, awaiting her punishment. Death. And Venus would get to decide how it happened. There were so many choices.
At the thought, a smile crossed her lips.
Without breathing, she pushed the door opened and hobbled into the hall. Once the door clicked shut, Venus leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. Tears welled up in her eyes. Tightness constricted her chest.
Everything hurts! She willed herself not to cry.
“You’re making friends all over the place, aren’t you?” The words were deep, yet smooth like velvet.
24. Tenderness
Michael.
What did he want? She didn’t want him to see her like this. With her hands, she angrily brushed at her tears. Then tried to use the wall to stand, but fell to the side, onto her arm. “Uuuhhh,” she snarled, pushing herself to her knees and moving her feet to stand. The tennis shoes Tawny had given her were too big and one of her feet slipped. Her knee slammed against the floor, sending a wave of pain through her body. “Ouch,” she whispered, a tear leaking onto the floor. Serves me right for taking off my boots. Venus wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
“What’s it to you?” she asked, acid ripping through every word. If he said anything rude, she’d find a way to destroy him and gladly suffer the penalty.
He sighed. “Nothing.” He came over and picked her up, settling her into his arms.
Baffled, she checked his expression. “What’re you doing?”
“Apologizing. Now hold still. Tawny kicked you good, didn’t she?”
Venus nodded, too dazed to speak. How’d he know? She hadn’t seen him in the gym, but that didn’t mean anything. Soccer had her distracted.
“I ditched class. Swimming isn’t my thing. Water and me don’t mix. Anyway, I was sitting in the bleachers. Watched the whole thing. What she did—that wasn’t cool. Your first day at South High has been great, hasn’t it?” he asked, grinning.
“Ha,” she choked out bitterly. Didn’t sound much like a princess, but she was in pain. On the surface, he stunk of cigarette smoke, but beneath, she smelled warmed earth, sunshine and . . . pears.
Michael’s skin was soothing, like a summer breeze. She heard his heart beating, a steady thrum against her body. Venus couldn’t take her eyes off his face. Everything she’d seen of his life came back in a flood. A sudden urge to put her arms around him, hold him and tell him everything would be all right crossed her mind. Strange. She remembered his memories from last night, and her strong desires to help him find someone worth his love.
“Do you wear contacts?” he asked, bringing her out of her reverie.
“No.” Venus spoke before thinking. “Yes.”
“Which is it? He chuckled. “Your eyes are amazing.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, unsure if she should say more.
“You know, I’ve received similar injuries during football practice. I doubt the nurse is going to be able to do anything for you. You’re going to need heat then ice rotated back and forth for the next several hours. You’ll want to wrap it too, that’ll help with the swelling. You know, you ought to let me take care of you.” He stopped in the middle of the hall.
“I’m really not sure what to do.” And that was the truth. On Kelari, she wouldn’t be in this situation. “I need my clothes.” Mostly, she had to get her boots. No way would she leave without them. If she had her way, she’d never return to this helker of a hole again.
“Right.” He started trotting back toward the gym.
Because of his pace, she had no choice but to put her arms around his neck, which pressed her body closer to his. When her hands touched his neck, she felt a hitch in the thumping of his heart before it started faster. Still unable to pull her eyes from his face, Venus watched his pupils dilate. A flush came to his cheeks. Deep inside, a change occurred in her as well.
Maybe he doesn’t hate me so much after all. She couldn’t hate him, not after what she’d seen of his life.
When they were in front of the girls locker room doors, he opened them. The acrid air smacked her, and she had to force a small breath.
“Which one’s yours?”
“Twenty-seven . . . Should you be in here?”
“No.” He set her down. “Do you remember the combo?”
“I do.” Venus opened the locker and grabbed her clothes and her boots. She felt relieved. Turning, she hobbled over to the bench. The sooner she put her boots back on the better—even with the huge welt on her shin.
“Don’t put them on. Wait until we can get some ice on that.” He bent in front of her and touched the bruise with a hand, curiosity filling his face.
Ah, cret. The area Tawny had kicked was bruising. And her blood didn’t look the same as humans.
Trying to stand, she asked, “Why are you helping me? You don’t even like me.”
“Whatever gave you that idea?” He smirked and continued, “I don’t know, you seem to need someone.”
Her first thought was to tell him she already had someone—Zaren. But he wasn’t around. So she kept her mouth shut. Also, she wanted more of an explanation from him. He hadn’t really answered her question, at least not to her satisfaction, but he didn’t seem inclined to say more.
Venus was about to be bold and ask why he’d kissed her, but a noise distracted them. She turned toward the sound and saw Tawny dash around the corner and slide to a stop.
“You’d better get outta here. Now! Before I make you leave,” Michael said.
“How about I—” Venus began, feeling her face flush with anger, but she couldn’t finish. She closed her mouth around a cough, trying to hold it back.
“Leave, Tawny!” Michael yelled.
Tawny disappeared without a word.
He turned to Venus, “Hey, there’s blood on your shirt?” Sincere concern blazed over his face.
Venus realized it must’ve come from her coughing. Her mind swirled in panic as she realized how quickly her internal organs were breaking down in this world’s atmosphere. Hurry. I need to hurry! To Michael, she said, “Oh, it’s nothing.” Lying wasn’t her thing, but she had no idea what to say.
He touched her bottom lip with a thumb and showed her blood. “It’s strange, different.” He rubbed his bloodied thumb against his first and second fingers. It looked more orange-red than the blue-red of humans.
“Maybe I should go to the nurse. Or, you know, I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She tried to walk forward and fell.
In response, he lifted her into his arms and headed toward the exit.
Furious that her body wasn’t working properly, she wanted to sulk. But she was grateful Michael had come along. “So, where are you taking me?”
“To my secret, evil lair.” A mischievous sparkle brightened his face. This close she marveled at the warm chocolate color of his eyes, with gold glitter surrounding the edges. They were stunning and much different than the day she’d met him. Different even, than earlier today. What has changed?
“Scary,” she said, giving him a small smile.
When they reached his car, he let her feet touch the ground, but kept one arm around her waist as he dug the keys out of his pocket with the other.
“You can let go of me.” She tried to squirm from his grasp.
He held onto her. “Almost got it.” He unlocked the door, helped her in, and buckled her into the bucket seat. Before he shut the door, he said, “Stay put.” Then walked around the front of the car to the driver’s side.
As Michael got in, Venus heard a loud clap. It sounded like a whip snapping or a large tree breaking, the trunk ripping apart. He fell back hard into his seat with a grunt.
“What was that?” Venus asked. Michael held his shoulder.
He slammed his door shut, turned over the engine and started to drive. “Crap, that hurt.” He reached inside his shirt. When he pulled his hand away, his fingers were round
ed, in a fist.
“Are you all right? What happened?” She scooted closer to him, worried.
He tucked a hand in his jeans pocket and then pulled it out, flexing his fingers. He seemed to be looking for answers. “A rock hit me in the shoulder. That’s all. Everything’s fine.” He seemed stunned.
“Are you sure?” Venus asked, leaning against the head rest.
“Yep. I’m all good. Love the necklace, by the way. Macaroni is so in this year.” He grinned.
“Ha. Ha.” She wanted to rip it off and toss it out the window, but the memory of Mrs. O’Hare’s growling kept it on Venus’s neck.
Relieved, she glanced around at the car’s interior. It smelled like leather. She rubbed the soft, shiny seat. She knew this car. This particular model had been made over forty years ago, yet it looked new. Stunning, black leather interior, supple and in perfect condition. The dash was covered in chrome and wood. It gleamed, immaculate. She couldn’t hold in her astonishment any longer. Plus, she needed to take her mind off the excruciating pain that’d resurfaced.
“I know this car,” she said, stroking the dash.
“You do?” The look he flashed her said he was doubtful.
“Of course.” She closed her eyes and went into detail, giving him probably more information on the beautiful corvette’s history than he’d expected or wanted. He took care of it. That much was apparent. Funny, though. She hadn’t seen it once in his memories last night.
When she finished her run down on the car’s finer points, she looked at him.
He gazed back in astonishment. “You really are different.”
“Well, where I’m from, we don’t drive ca—that often. But if I had the opportunity, this is the car I’d pick. One difference, I would’ve chosen a different color. Definitely dark blue.”
“What? I can’t believe you just said that in Red.” He patted the dash. “There, there, girl. It’s okay. I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”
“You named your car Red?”
“Yeah. It’s the perfect name for this beauty. And I’ll have you know candy-apple red is the best color ever for a car, especially one of this caliber.” He smiled, teasing, though his face remained guarded. Michael kept looking in his rear view mirror.
“I disagree. A deep blue is much more fitting. It’d make the front look more classic, cooler, as you hu—er, guys, say.”
He snorted. “This isn’t about gender, this is about what’s right and you’re totally wrong.” He parked in front of a two-story house. The lawn looked brittle, yellow from the cold weather. Hedges lined the half porch, where three stairs went up to a white front door. The house was made completely of red brick. Black shutters lined the windows. One window had a little landing coming out of it with wrought iron surrounding it. Upon further inspection, Venus noticed it wasn’t a window, but French doors. A chimney stood dormant on the left side of the house, extending from a slanted roof. The house looked huge from the outside. Much too big for two people.
Michael came over to her side and lifted Venus into his arms. She noticed he babied his left shoulder, but didn’t mention it.
“Is . . . anyone home?” she asked while he unlocked the front door. She didn’t want to meet his mother if she didn’t have to.
“No. It’s normally me and my mother, but she won’t be home until late tonight.”
“Oh.” Her arms had naturally gone around his neck. The feel of his warm skin under her hands ignited a quiver low in her belly. By the Gods, what’s wrong with me? These feelings were uncontrollable. It felt like they’d taken over.
Once inside, he went to the stairs and started up.
“Aren’t you tired?” she asked.
“You hardly weigh more than a football. You aren’t one of those anorexics, are you?” He looked concerned again.
Venus remembered that word. It had to do with when humans hardly ate. “No. In fact I had three pancakes for breakfast. They were yummy. But, you’ve got to put me down. I could get used to this. Become lazy.” She tried to smile through the pain.
“I doubt that. But we’re here. Ignore the mess.” He went through a door, into a light room and set her on a bed. It was in perfect order, the corners crisp. A green down comforter covered the bed. The room smelled like citrus. And so clean. Too clean. He’d been joking. Everything had its own place. He propped up a bunch of pillows. “Scoot against them, if you can.”
She huffed. “I’m not an invalid. What about you—your arm?” He looked at her like he disagreed with her invalid comment and completely ignored her question about his arm, propping up more pillows under her sore calf. The spot where Tawny kicked her had turned carroty, a product of her blood. Had she been a real, human girl, it would’ve been blue and purple. A mound, like a fisted hand, covered the spot where Tawny’s foot had connected with her shin. Venus wasn’t even sure if this method of hot and cold compresses would take care of her wound. Where she was from, if they were badly hurt, before the age of sixteen, their shaman would heal it immediately. With a small wound such as this, their bodies healed quickly. She didn’t know how her body would respond to human methods of healing. Whatever Michael did, she didn’t think it mattered.
He sat beside her. Tentatively, he grabbed the VISITOR badge. Flicking it in his fingers, he said, in a funny voice, “Take me to your leader.”
“What?”
He searched her eyes and then laughed.
“Nothing.” He dropped it.
Embarrassed, Venus said, “Thank you for helping me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
He raised a brow, but didn’t say anything. He took her clothes and boots from her lap and set them on the end of the bed. “Relax. I’ll be right back.”
Venus decided humans were a lot more complicated than they’d been portrayed in Earth Studies.
25. Why Worry
In the downstairs bathroom Michael closed the door and flipped on the light. At the sink he turned a little watching his reflection in the mirror. The bullet had hit him in the shoulder, putting a hole in his t-shirt and leather letterman’s jacket. “Dammit.” He took the jacket off, hanging it on a hook screwed into the door behind him. Facing the mirror again, he stuck his finger through the hole in his t-shirt. When he touched his skin, he cringed. There was a lump. Gingerly, he took off his t-shirt and tossed it on the floor. His left shoulder sported a huge bruise. It was deep purple and dark blue. He pressed his fingers against it and let out a hissing sound, like a seething snake, at the pain the pressure caused.
With his right hand, he reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a bullet. Held it up in the bathroom light and wondered why it hadn’t broken his skin. Tucking it away, he rotated his shoulder. It stung, hurt bad, but no blood had been drawn.
“Someone shot me. On my birthday, too. Suck!” He peered at the coat and his shirt again, trying to figure out how the bullet only bruised him. “What the crap?” He didn’t know what to think. Hadn’t any sane ideas.
Right now he’d focus on Venus.
Later he’d debate whether he was bulletproof.
Heading into the laundry room, he grabbed another white t-shirt, like the one he’d been wearing, pulled it on and then went into the kitchen to get what he needed to help Venus.
26. Too Hot
After he’d gone, Venus took the liberty of looking around. Trophy after first place trophy lined a tall, glass case directly across from the bed. His name etched in all of them.
So, this is his room. She worked to ignore a bubbly, giddiness building in her chest.
Blue ribbons hung from most of the trophies. To the left of the case stood a large window with a white desk underneath. A laptop sat on top and to its left were a bunch of books, perfectly organized from tallest to shortest and in alphabetical order.
Billowy, light green curtains adorned the window, flowing all the way to the floor. On either side of the bed were white nightstands. Matching navy, green and white stripes stretched horizontally over the lamps
hades. One sat on each stand.
War and Peace rested on the nightstand to her right. Its pages were worn, like an old friend. It called to her. Venus picked it up, casually turning the pages. She could smell him—glazed pears—in every turn. She closed her eyes and flipped the pages again, rapidly, like a fan, allowing his smell to float into the air.
“Is that how your kind read?” he asked.
“Yeow, you scared me.” She opened her eyes and dropped the book. “No, I was fanning myself.”
“Ah.” It didn’t look like he bought it, but he sat on the bed and started organizing his supplies. “First, we’re doing hot.” He placed a warmed cloth over the wound.
She sucked in at the pain, but didn’t say anything. He left his hand on the wet cloth. “We should leave this on for fifteen minutes before moving on to the cold.” As if to explain himself, he held up an ice pack.
“Fabu.” She clenched her teeth.
“So where are you from exactly?” he asked, his first finger gently making circles over her wound. His head was down, so she couldn’t read his expression. But, she could feel his touch, even through the cloth. So soft. Tender. A tingling stirred, starting at the center of the wound, and spreading throughout her body. His fingers stoking the fire on her skin, melting her. Venus watched her skin flame red as her face burned hot, her breathing getting faster and faster.
“Please,” she begged, finally. “Stop.”
He looked up. “Venus, what’s wrong?” He moved on the bed, claiming her face in both of his strong hands, making everything worse. His touch, his airy, summer smell. Warmth.
He’s killing me.
“Look at me, you’re burning up.”
Apprehensively, she peered at him and knew, by the look on his face, he’d seen her desires. She’d never experienced these emotions. They were overwhelming. “Ice. Please.” He held her captive a moment longer. Venus watched his face change. He didn’t understand what was happening anymore than she did. Yet he still didn’t let go. Searching. Her face locked in his hands and her eyes held captive his.
Immortal Essence Box Set: Aligned, Exiled, Beguiled Page 12