He let his meaning hang in the air, studied me with his incredible eyes. I lifted his hand, turned it over, and kissed the inside of his palm.
“There,” I said, wrapping my hand in his. “I’ve kept my promise.”
But all the humor had fled from his face. He looked down at my lips, and I could feel the heat of his gaze. Everywhere it touched, it left a trail of warmth. His tongue slid out to wet his own lips; then one corner slid up and he asked, “Are you getting anything?”
I gasped. “How do you know every single time?” I asked, appalled.
I dropped his hand in disgust at having been caught trying to get a vision off him again, but he continued to gaze at me, his expression serious. “You can ask me anything, Lorelei. I’ll answer truthfully. You know that, right?”
“Of course.” But just to test out that theory, I asked, “So, is your blood really like heroin?”
He pressed his lips together and sighed. “Yes.”
“Can I try some?” Brooke asked.
Cameron pulled her to her feet, took aim across the lot with the football, and told her to go long.
“What the heck does that even mean?” she asked. “And these boots have heels. I’m not going anywhere, especially long.”
He scooped her off her feet and spun her as she squealed.
“Can I try it?” I asked Jared.
He placed an appreciative look on me. “No.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You said I could ask you anything.”
“And I answered truthfully.”
“So, what? Would I get addicted?” I asked, kidding around.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” That put an abrupt end to that. “Okay, then how did you beat me to the canyon floor?”
He grinned. “I stopped time, how else? But one of them knocked me senseless for a moment, and time restarted. I was worried I’d be late.”
“That would have ended badly,” I said.
“Yes, it would have.” He wound his fingers into mine and placed them against his heart. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
The conversation he’d had with my grandparents seemed to be forgotten. He was back to his old, charming self, and I wondered what that meant.
“Your grandparents were right, Lorelei,” he said, holding my hand steadfast when I tried to pull away.
He always seemed to know exactly where my thoughts were. “I’m not worthy of you,” he continued. “I never will be. But I am in love with you, and if wanting you makes me selfish, then so be it.”
His words caused a hopeful warmth to rush through me. It mingled with the heat radiating off him, soaked into my skin, and in turn caused a heat of a different nature. A spark flared to life inside me and spread from my abdomen to the tips of my toes.
Jared’s face went blank. Then he leaned back and gazed at me wide eyed, as though I’d surprised him somehow. “That— That was amazing.”
I blinked to attention and looked around, completely confused. “What?”
“You. Your aura.” He leaned close again, still holding my hand. “It’s like the smoldering embers of a fire. But just now, it flared to life, its flames roiling softly over your skin, bathing you in a soft, glowing light. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.”
His description stole my breath. His eyes, sparkling with something more than just mere interest, made my heart shudder to life, like it had been lying dormant before, waiting.
“Your Grace!” Grandma cried from the back door.
Her summons startled me out of my stupor, mostly because she sounded alarmed. When we turned around, I realized she wasn’t looking at Jared, but was looking inside the house, her back to us.
Jared was beside her in a flash. Cameron was next; he had farther to run. And the rest of us followed eons later, even though we were hurrying. Jared pushed past her and into the house. We shuffled inside and gathered around one end of the breakfast bar. There was a kid on the other side, wearing an army jacket three sizes too big.
“Noah,” I said, starting forward, but Jared stopped me. “Noah, it’s okay. You can put down the knife.”
He had drawn one of Grandma’s kitchen knives and was holding it at his side, staring blankly at Jared.
“We won’t hurt you.”
“You’re not with the descendants,” Jared said.
He scoffed, and yet never blinked, never took his eyes off Jared. “The descendants are bottom-feeders.
They have no real power without chants and incantations and blood rites. Always trying to hold on to their heritage, but they lost it centuries ago. Half of them aren’t even real descendants. They just believe they are, like people who believe they’ve been abducted by aliens.”
“Can you help him?” A woman was inching inside our house from the store. It was locked. Noah must have broken in.
The woman was so frail looking, so fragile, shaking with fear and cold. She had a bruise on her cheek and the remains of a black eye. “Can you help my son?” she said through a breathy sob. “He said to come here. That you could help him.”
“What’s your name?” Jared asked him.
“Noah.”
He glared at him from underneath his lashes. “Lie to me again, and I’ll make sure you suffer.”
“That’s his name,” the woman said. She eased closer but kept her distance from her son.
“What is your name?” Jared asked again.
The woman seemed confused. She looked at Noah.
“Atherol,” he said with a smile. “I seek Azrael.”
“You’ve found him,” Jared said. “What do you want?”
“Out.”
“Then leave him.”
“To have you come after me?” he asked. “To wait for the war? I can’t go back. And you are the only way out.”
Jared was in front of him in that faster-than-the-eye-can-see way of his. Cameron was beside me, doing his static-cling thing he did so well.
Jared tossed the boy onto the island like a sack of potatoes, oddly enough, knocking over a sack of potatoes. Noah started to struggle, but it was short-lived. Jared relieved him of the knife and tossed it to
Cameron before refocusing on him.
He held him down, his brows drawn in question. “You’ll cease to exist.”
Noah’s gaze slid back to him. “Better here with you than face what is to come.”
“So be it.”
The thing inside the boy finally spared me an angry glance. Like this was somehow my fault. “They’ll never stop,” he said, his words venomous. “And everyone close to you will die.”
“That’s enough.” Jared leaned over him, almost touching his mouth to his like he was about to give mouth-to-mouth, but Noah kept his gaze locked with mine.
“More are coming,” he said. He refocused on Jared. “So many more.”
“I know.” Locking his hand around Noah’s throat, Jared opened his mouth and breathed in the evil spirit that had been consuming him. A dark fog left one mouth and entered the other, and I jerked forward in reflex, my only thought that Jared would be possessed.
Cameron caught me to him. “It can’t live inside him,” he said. “The spirit is essentially committing suicide.”
“Why?” Brooke asked, her eyes glued to the scene.
“It’s jumping ship. Like a rat does before it sinks. It wants out before the war begins.”
Jared rose up, looked toward the ceiling, and filled his lungs as though absorbing the spirit. Noah grew limp and the woman ran to him, her eyes pleading with Jared, hopeful.
“It’s done,” Jared said. “The spirit’s out.”
“Thank you,” she said, sobbing and holding an unconscious Noah to her.
“Do we need to call an ambulance?” I asked Jared.
“Wouldn’t hurt.”
Grandma went for her phone just as an older man rushed into the store. “I’m looking for someone named Azrael,” he said, glancing around, his expression panicked. “My granddaughter. There’s something wrong.”