The Lost Savior

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The Lost Savior Page 14

by Siobhan Davis


  Maddox snarls at his brother, his good mood dissipating. “That’s a low blow, bruh, and you know it.”

  Kylie bites, scooting closer on the bench. “What happened in Nebraska?”

  Cooper leans forward, fanning his breath over her face. “That’s for us to know and you to figure out.” He tugs on one of her corkscrew curls, and her cheeks inflame.

  Maddox reaches over, swatting the back of Cooper’s head. “No touching, Casanova. You know the rules.”

  I snort out a laugh. “Casanova! Why doesn’t that surprise me.”

  Cooper jokingly sticks his tongue out at me. “You’ve hurt me. Deeply.” He places his hand over his chest, and my eyes hone in on the strip of tan skin peeking out the top of his tight black shirt. My gaze roams over the thick silver chains around his neck and the light layer of stubble on his chin. His blue eyes sparkle under long black lashes, and his hair is artfully styled back off his face highlighting his exquisite bone structure. Cooper might be an annoying pain in my ass, but there’s no denying how utterly gorgeous he is.

  He’s the type to stop traffic.

  “And now you’ve redeemed yourself in spectacular fashion.” He leans right into my face, and I stop breathing. “Like what you see, Tori?”

  Dane rolls his eyes, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “Grant me patience.”

  Zara mouths “What the fuck?” at me as I shrug. Ethan glances warily at Cooper.

  The connection between us is vibrating at warp speed, purring and humming in satisfaction, and I’m suddenly pulled in all four directions, scrutinizing their body language, noticing they’re wound as tight as I am. My gaze bounces between them, and the same spark of awareness is etched on all their faces. Beckett knots and unknots his hands, Maddox rotates his neck from side to side, and Dane holds himself rigidly still.

  I take a moment to study them, each brother as gorgeous as the other in different ways. Beckett’s stunning emerald eyes seem greener against the gleam of the pristine white shirt stretched across his toned abs. His cheeks flush pink when he notices my attention, and he has an innocence about him that’s appealing. Maddox shifts on the bench, and my gaze flits to his. With his broad shoulders, muscular physique, cropped hair, and the decent layer of stubble coating his jawline, the dude could pass for one of those hot Marine-type dudes I’ve seen on the cover of some books. And then there’s Dane. His cool indifference and the brooding intensity of his dark hair and seductive brown eyes make him someone you want to run toward and away from.

  My eyes come full circle, returning to Cooper. With his classic boyish yet rugged good looks, and his flirty personality that manages to be both annoying and amusing, he belongs on stage, worshiped by the masses.

  Wherever they came from, it’s one hell of a gene pool.

  What’s blatantly obvious in this moment, when we’re all sharing the same air space, is the mutual awareness of this connection between us. No one needs to say it. The strings don’t need to be visible for all of us to see them. It exists. We all know it. As if it’s always meant to be.

  That thought resonates with truth, but the realization does little to reassure me.

  Cooper leans closer until there’s only a tiny gap between us. He presses his delectable mouth to my ear. “You can try to deny this, but you can’t fight destiny, beautiful.”

  “Get the fuck out of her face.” Jensen seethes, placing popcorn and a soda on my lap. “I am seriously two seconds away from pounding your ass.”

  Dane glares pointedly at Cooper, and he holds up his hands in a conciliatory fashion. “My bad. Note to self: Not allowed to talk to the pretty lady because her caveman boyfriend might go apeshit on my ass.” He can’t contain his smirk. “Or at least he could try.”

  I slap a hand against my brow, wondering why the hell we came to the game. Cooper is giving me a mad case of whiplash, and I wasn’t joking earlier; I don’t know how the others put up with his shit. He’d drive me insane. With all his hot and cold behavior, I suspect an undiagnosed hyperactivity disorder. Or a death wish. Possibly a bit of both.

  Jensen lunges at Cooper, and Cooper laughs. Oh fuck. Things are heading south. Jensen practically crawls over my lap in his attempt to get to Coop, kneeing me in the boob in the process. I cry out as a sharp pain lances across my chest, and I drop my popcorn and soda, the contents of both spilling across the ground and dripping onto the bench in front.

  “Now look what you’ve done,” Beckett says in an angry tone, and I’m unsure whether his comment is directed at his brother or my boyfriend.

  “Shit, Tori. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Jensen asks, instantly crouching down in front of me.

  I nod through the tears stinging my eyes, rubbing a hand across the top of my boob.

  “I’d offer to kiss it better if we didn’t have an audience,” he says, and I cringe at how un-Jensen-like that sleazy remark is.

  “That is way out of line, dude,” Maddox says in that gravelly voice of his. “Show some respect.”

  Jensen’s cheeks flare up, but he doesn’t acknowledge Maddox, because I know it’d kill him to admit he’s right, but I let it pass because at least boobgate has diverted the brewing fight. Cooper’s face has fallen, and he looks suitably remorseful. Jensen quietly leaves to get stuff to clean up the floor, once I assure him I’m fine. Cooper leans in, full of apologetic words, but I ignore him, sliding down the bench to sit alongside Kylie. Jensen returns a few minutes later with fresh popcorn and soda and a dustpan, brush, and bag. Wordlessly, he cleans up the mess at my feet, and my heart melts at the sight of him. When he sits back down, I snuggle into him, hoping he can tell how much I love him.

  The second half commences, and we settle down to watch, everyone pretending to ignore the awkward tension in the air. Jensen whispers an apology in my ear, and I readily accept it, knowing I’m partly responsible for pushing my boyfriend out of his comfort zone lately.

  Kenzie is jumping around the place when our team takes the lead, and the crowd surges to their feet, waving and chanting. The atmosphere is electric, and it helps to alleviate the strain surrounding our group. When our team loses the lead ten minutes later, we all groan, sitting back down with matching exasperated sighs. I pass the popcorn and soda to Jensen, and he chows down as we watch our team continue to lose their edge on the floor.

  Every so often, Jensen leans in, pressing a kiss to my hair or my cheek and nuzzling my neck affectionately. It’s not unusual behavior at all, but I’m uncomfortable with the attention from behind and holding myself stiffly on the bench beside him. I can’t wait for the game to be over so we can leave.

  “What the hell?!” Jensen shouts, jumping up suddenly. My eyes pop wide, and my mouth hangs open as I turn and look at him. He is drenched in soda, the sticky liquid flattening his hair and dripping in rivulets down his face. The bucket of popcorn is upturned, kernels adhering to his tacky clothes. He looks a total mess.

  I shoot him a perplexed look. “What happened?"

  “I don’t fucking know. The soda just exploded in my lap, and I got such a fright I jumped up, spilling popcorn everywhere.” He glances down at himself. “Shit. I need to go home and get changed.”

  “I’ll come with. The game’s pretty much over anyway.” Glancing at the scoreboard, it’s obvious there’s no way our team can pull it back from the brink with only ten minutes remaining.

  Jensen starts moving down the row, the crowd scrambling back, careful not to touch him. Indignation bristles under my skin as I jump to the obvious conclusion. I’ve no idea how he did it, but I’m pretty sure I know who’s responsible for this. Jerking my head up, I shoot a lethal look at Cooper, not buying the obviously fake innocent expression he’s wearing. I lean in, so the others don’t hear me. “I know you did this, and you need to back off Jensen. You’re making him crazy.”

  “Not my fault he can’t keep his shit together.”

  I pin him with a contemptuous look. “Leave my boyfriend out of this. I’m warnin
g you, Cooper.” My eyes scan each of their faces in turn. When I reach Dane, he nods. We face off for a few seconds, and then I nod back in silent understanding before dashing after Jensen.

  An ominous black cloudy shape hovers over my bed, manipulating the air, sending the temp plummeting. Even in sleep, I shiver. A little whimper escapes my mouth as the shape descends lower and lower until it’s lying over me with only a tiny sliver of space between us. Unparalleled fear consumes me, and I toss and turn, fisting the sheets as I will myself to wake up, but it’s as if I’m comatose, and I can’t rouse myself from slumber. A louder moan reverberates in the room as the shadowy thing slams into me, plundering my limbs and my senses, invading every inch of my body. Panic floods my system, but still I can’t wake up. Eerie whispering fills my eardrums, and I thrash about in the bed, overcome with fear.

  Something warm lands on my arm, and a soothing sensation sweeps over me. A hand wipes the sweat off my clammy brow. Fingers caress my cheek, and comforting words are whispered in my ear. I clutch onto the voice, allowing it to drown out the other one.

  A frustrated screeching sound pierces my eardrums from inside, and then the dark presence is gone. The creepy whispering is gone. All that remains is the soft, warm touch and the soothing words. My anxiety lifts, and I drift into a dreamless sleep.

  I wake with a troubled mind on Saturday morning, recollections of my dream returning to haunt me. It felt so real—the creepy shadowy thing and the warm touch of a stranger—but it had to be a nightmare, because the alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. Maybe Kylie is right, and whatever that freak did to my mind is conjuring up hallucinations, even in my sleep.

  Jensen is spending the morning helping his dad around the farm, and I was planning on paying a little visit to the Roth brothers, but Mom asks me to go into town with her to pick out some gifts for Dad’s impending fifty-fifth birthday, and I can’t refuse.

  In the afternoon, Jensen and I head across town to catch a movie. By the time we come out of the movie theater, a thick layer of snow is coating the ground. “Thank God, I replaced the snow tires at Christmas,” Jensen says, cranking the heating up the instant we get into the icy truck. Even though I have my coat and scarf on, and my legs are encased in jeans tucked into my Ugg boots, I am shivering profusely. Rubbing my hands together, I blow on the tips of my frozen, red fingers. Jensen powers up the engine but leaves it in park as he waits for the windshield to clear. “Give them here,” he commands, taking my small hands between his larger ones. He rubs up and down, back and forth, until I have feeling in my fingers again.

  “Thanks.” I lean in, kissing the tip of his red nose. “I didn’t realize snow was forecast for today.”

  “Me either.” He pulls my head toward him, planting his soft, cold mouth on mine. It doesn’t take us long to warm up, and soon we are both panting and out of breath. Jensen is the only boy I’ve ever kissed, but I doubt it gets much better than this. “I love kissing you,” he rasps, as if he read my mind. “And I’ll never get enough.” He peppers my cheeks with kisses, moving his mouth down my skin and running his tongue lightly over my ear in the way he knows I love.

  “Jensen,” I caution. “Not here.”

  He chuckles, bringing my hand to his mouth and kissing the tips of my fingers.

  “You’re so irresistible sometimes I just can’t help myself.” He sends me a cheeky grin, and I rest my head against his shoulder, all loved up.

  “I know the feeling. But I think we should head home before conditions worsen on the roads. The windshield is clear now.”

  He drives slowly and carefully on the snow-covered roads. Visibility lessens the closer we get to the farm as the roads narrow, the street lighting is sparser, and the trickle of snow falling from the sky becomes thicker, heavier, making conditions treacherous.

  A flicker of yellow glints up ahead, and I lean forward in my seat, squinting to see through the dense snowfall. “Is that another car up ahead?”

  “I see it,” Jensen confirms. “It’s on the other side of the road.”

  We draw closer to the other vehicle, the yellow beams of its fog lights coming in short bursts through the relentless snow swirling around.

  “Shit!” Jensen slams his foot down, and the truck starts veering from left to right, tires sliding unevenly as he struggles to control the vehicle.

  My mouth opens in horror as the other car nears, careening all over the road, heading straight toward us.

  “The truck won’t move!” Jensen cries, desperately rotating the wheel to the left, but the truck won’t cooperate. “And I can’t stop in time either,” he says, cautiously pressing down on the brake this time. Even though we are moving slowly, every time his foot meets the brake pedal, the truck lurches wildly from side to side, and he can’t pull it to a stop.

  My face is frozen in fear as I watch the approaching vehicle making a beeline for us. The SUV meanders dangerously from side to side, as the driver grapples for similar control. My life flashes before my eyes, and I snap out of my shocked daze.

  Without stopping to question it, I open the door and fling myself outside, throwing myself into a tumble when my body hits the icy-cold, snow-covered road. Jensen is screaming, but I block him out, scrambling to my feet and rounding the rear of the truck. The other vehicle is less than twenty feet away. Focusing my mind, I concentrate on the SUV, and in my mind’s eye, I push it away, forcing it to deviate to the left and out of our path. I continue to visualize it, my mind clear and focused, driving the other vehicle until we’re both out of danger.

  A spray of snow covers me, and it drags me from my mind. Blinking, I turn my head, staring at the woman with the vibrant red hair and damp eyes staring back at me through the window of the other vehicle as it glides by. Our eyes meet, and I detect the confused panic in her gaze. The SUV keeps moving, and I turn at the sound of footsteps.

  “Tori!” Jensen’s voice is flooded with relief, and he reels me into his arms. “Oh my God.” He stands back, checking my face and my arms, making sure I’m in one piece. “Thank God, you’re okay and that the other car gained control in time. What the hell were you thinking?”

  I’m unbelievably calm considering what just went down, and I know what I need to do. “I wasn’t. I’m so sorry. My only instinct was to get out of there.” I hear how selfish it sounds, but I can hardly tell him the truth—that I’m the reason the SUV didn’t hit us. That I somehow moved the trajectory of the car with my mind.

  Snow coats our clothing as we tread a careful path back to the truck. Jensen fusses over me, reassuring me I did the right thing. A serene sort of acceptance filters over me as I climb in the truck, silence enveloping us as Jensen concentrates on the road. We’re not far from the farm now, and getting me home safely is his primary concern.

  For the first time since all this weird shit started happening, I sense a natural shift in my body, born of some hidden, inner knowledge that I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. And, this time, these strange abilities I’ve developed were used for good.

  Maybe I’ve been looking at this completely wrong.

  I’ve tried to deny what’s been right in front of my nose because I didn’t want anything to change.

  But the reality is that thing, alien or not, didn’t choose me randomly. I know this as surely as I know Usain Bolt will compete in the 2020 Olympics.

  The freak was looking for me, and once he found me, he kick-started some natural process inside me.

  I thought he altered me, but now I believe he awakened something in me.

  Something that was lying dormant. Something that was waiting for this time.

  I’m not quite sure if I’ve just had a eureka moment, whether I’ve always known this deep down inside and have been stubbornly avoiding facing the truth, or whether this newfound realization is part of whatever transformation I’m undergoing, but I know one thing with absolute surety.

  The Roth brothers knew this would happen, and they showed up once everything
kicked off.

  Now I need to find out why.

  Chapter 20

  Maddox

  Dane and Cooper are going at it again, and they’re making my brain bleed. I’m tempted to bang their heads together in the hope it’ll knock some sense into them.

  “It’s fucking freezing in here,” I tell Beckett, ignoring my other two brothers.

  “The heating system is rudimentary in the outbuildings, and there wasn’t time to upgrade it,” Beckett says without lifting his head from the master computer. When we moved in, he commandeered the largest outbuilding and transformed it into tech central. He must have at least twenty different laptops, tablets, and PCs in here. Each one is tracking different frequencies, satellite feeds and images and other stuff that goes way over my head. He’s the resident tech head as well as our expert on the prophecy, and I gladly leave all that stuff to him.

  I crack my knuckles, shivering in the frigid air.

  “Dress more warmly,” Beckett suggests in that practical no-nonsense tone of his, briefly lifting his head up.

  I teleport back to my bedroom, grabbing a heavy wool sweater from my walk-in closet, along with my gray coat and black scarf, and teleport back to the barn.

  Dane and Cooper are still arguing, and as much as I try to blank them out, it’s impossible not to listen as I pull the sweater and coat on.

  “Haven’t you ever considered the fact you might not always make the right judgment call,” Cooper demands, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “We each have our own roles for a reason. It serves a purpose, and it’s connected to our unique abilities. Why should anything be different now?” Dane protests.

  “Because the dynamic’s changing. We all feel it, and maybe our roles are shifting too.”

  “No. We are a well-oiled machine. This team works for a reason; because we all understand where we fit in.”

 

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