Embrace, Entice, Emblaze (48 page)

His words were like a sharp slap across the face. I dropped my

head. “Yeah. No…I…I…”
Shit
shit
shit.
“I didn’t think it…No…I don’t want it to…I…”

But before I could talk myself into more of a stupor, his hand

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went to my face, silencing me. His thumb smudged my cheekbone

with just the right amount of pressure to make my heart gallop and my breath catch as it only ever did for him.

He was absolutely right.

The healing kiss doesn’t count at all.

I bit down on my lip as he looked at me, my hazel eyes so inferior to his brilliant green, which now seemed unable to hide his desire.

Bang, bang, bang!

“If ya haven’t fixed her by now, she’s broken for good! Get out of my bathroom!” Dapper yelled.

Lincoln dropped his hand from my face and looked horri-

fied with himself. I swallowed back the pain and feigned sudden interest in my fingernails.

“Vi, I…” He stood up, then spun back quickly to look at me.

“You see! This is why! Griffin doesn’t understand.” He turned and all but flew out of the bathroom.

I wanted to scream when he closed the door behind him.

Why
can’t we be together?

He’d always said that Grigori partners have no future together.

He told me it’s not allowed— that it weakens us or something. The thing is, for all the times he’d said it, I couldn’t fully believe it. How could I possibly feel this way about one person and there not be any hope? Was it really that easy for Lincoln to just deny what we both knew was there? Then, I caught sight of myself in the mirror and cringed, tugging at my blood- caked hair.

No
wonder
he
ran.

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chapter
four

“Guard yourself from lying; there is he who deceives and there is
he who is deceived.”

seXTus

By the time we got back to Lincoln’s place, it was almost midnight, which was much later than I had planned. Not only was it a school night, but it was also past a reasonable hour to get home, and

though Dad was spectacularly effi cient at being oblivious, I didn’t particularly love going behind his back. If he knew half of what was going on in my life— well, he’d already had his share of heartbreak.

Dapper, it turned out, hadn’t warmed to us at all. After letting us use his bathroom and engaging in a brief conversation in which he pointed out— in clear and off ensive language— he was not

about to get involved in our wars and if an exile came into his bar looking for a drink, then that was exactly what he was going to get, he threw us out.

According to Dapper, that was that.

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I tended to agree. I didn’t revel in the idea of him being involved either, but Griffin still held out hope for some reason. He saw an important place for Dapper, and he was the boss, after all.

I changed into the spare set of clothes I now kept at Lincoln’s for nights like tonight— sadly, not for the mornings. This change of clothes revolved purely around the not- wanting- to- be- seen- by-my- father- and- neighbors- covered- in- blood premise. Lincoln tried but failed to get me to eat some sandwiches he’d made while I was changing. I was still too mad with myself over my earlier failings, still too sick to my stomach with fear that I may never be able to use my dagger, and too embarrassed that I couldn’t stop replaying our kiss in my mind. But I did gratefully accept the aspirin. My headache was returning.

Lincoln seemed distracted too. I couldn’t put my finger on it,

but something had had him on edge since the fight, and I knew

whatever it was, he didn’t want to talk about it. When we were

about to get into his Volvo four- wheel- drive for the ride home, he rushed me into the car and looked around as if he were expecting something to happen.

“Linc? Everything okay?”

He pulled himself away from whatever he was straining to see in the dark. “Fine. Just want to get you home. You have to be up for school in a few hours.”

I let it go. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that we can’t always say everything when others want it. If he had something to say, I had to trust that he’d tell me soon.
Unlike
last
time.

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Entice

“Don’t remind me.” I cringed, hoping the few hours’ sleep I was going to get would be enough to stop my pounding head.

Lincoln and I had turned over a new leaf. It hadn’t been easy

forgiving him. But then, he had a lot to forgive me for too, and despite everything else, I knew I needed him in my life. The few weeks we had gone not talking to or seeing each other had felt like surviving without lungs.

————

When I got home, I went through the all- too- common process of slowly turning my key in the lock, trying to avoid the loud click.

Once inside, I started to sneak quietly down the hall. Then I saw Dad’s bedroom door was ajar and his light was on. I knew what

that meant. But still, for a moment, I pretended. I held my breath, let a little fear of discovery seep into my chest. I slipped out of my shoes and then headed to my room, my socks sliding along

the wooden floor. If Dad caught me coming home at this hour, I

would definitely be busted and I couldn’t afford that, not now.

As I passed the crack of light that escaped his door, I slumped and blew out a breath. Of course, I’d known he wasn’t really there—

probably not even home from work yet. I let my mind wander for a moment, fantasizing like I used to when I was younger. I imagined coming home from school, Mom greeting me at the door wearing

an apron and the smell of home- baked chocolate- chip cookies

filling the air. Dad would be sitting on the couch, feet up, in jeans and a shirt because he’d already been home from work for a while and had showered and changed. But now, as I tried to pull on an 35

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age- old fantasy that I’d played over in my mind thousands of times, it was blurred and out of focus. Knowing what I now knew about

my mother, well…Even if she hadn’t died, that fantasy would have been pretty much impossible. There would have to be this cloud in the room with us— somewhere to hide the lies.

I shook my head roughly, forcing myself back to the real world.

I didn’t need to go there right now. I just had to accept that Dad and I were both leading double lives. He was happier that we didn’t overlap. Safer too.

————

The next day basically consisted of one long headache only made worse by starting off with chemistry— which for the life of me, I have no idea why I chose as an elective subject. I spent close to two hours pretending that I cared about the different elements that combined to give precious stones their unique characteristics.

Miss Stallad was running around the room like this was the most exciting lesson she’d given all year. She buzzed around, explaining that she’d had a wave of inspiration that morning and had daringly diverted from the standard textbook for this class. She was on some kind of high, almost euphoric. At least PE was after lunch.

Normally, I love PE. Despite my supernatural qualities, unlike

Steph, I’m not equipped with the genius gene. Art and PE have

always been my favorites, and I’ve always done well in them. But staring out at the red athletics track that had been set up with a full four hundred meters of hurdles, I felt light- headed.

On the surface, Lincoln and I had jointly managed to heal me.

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Entice

No one would ever know I’d been sporting a horrific flesh wound just last night. But whether it was the blood loss still causing side effects or just my psyche lagging behind the speedy recovery, I wasn’t feeling up to par.

When Lydia Skilton pranced past me in her baby pink velour

tracksuit with matching towel draped over her shoulder, sipping her water bottle as if she were lining up for the race that was going to set her apart or something, I forced myself onto the starting line.

It wasn’t just me. No one liked Lydia, and I suspected she

preferred it that way. In any case, she wasn’t going to beat me.

————

Hurdles were a bad idea.

After PE, I sat in the locker room and tried to swallow back the lactic acid, which normally didn’t even affect me these days, and tried to move through the competitive guilt.

Steph found me there after I didn’t turn up for English class.

“So how bad is it, scale of one to ten?” she questioned, not bothering with anything else.

“Four,” I said, then waved a hand through the air. “Three.”

“I’ll take that as an eight. Vi, you aren’t superwoman, you know.” There was a loaded pause. Then we both burst out laughing,

which kind of hurt more.

“Okay, maybe you are in a way— but this armor you insist on

having up all the time is going to cost you if you keep forcing every point— even with Lydia Skilton.”

I grimaced. “You heard.”

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“What? That you kicked her ass three times in a row and she

basically ran off the field crying?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I said, sure Steph was exaggerating.

She waved a finger at me. “Hey, no one enjoys watching Lydia

get a taste of her own medicine more than me.” It was true. “But not when it leaves you in this kind of mess.”

I put my head between my knees and tried to snap out of it.

At least I knew the fatigue wasn’t pregnancy. Never had I been

so happy for an emergency dash to the pharmacy as when I got

my period earlier in the week. I shuddered to think of what one mistake with Phoenix could have meant for the rest of my life.

“You know what’s wrong with you?” Steph said.

“Concussion.”

“No. Honey, you have buyer’s remorse.” And she was right.

Lydia was annoying, but I could’ve let her win one. I had drawn on my Grigori strength to one- up her. I
should
have let her win one.

Steph dragged me to last period. At least it was art.

By the time I walked out of the school gates, I was feeling a little better. Art always helps, gives me some time out, an escape. And when I saw Lincoln leaning against the tree across the road, waiting for me, I felt better again.

And then worse.

He was holding my training bag.
Shit
.

I said good- bye to Steph, who was heading off with Jena Powell so they could work on their chemistry assignment, and crossed the road to Lincoln.

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As I got closer, my power stirred, recognizing him as it always does, and my heart skipped a beat as
it
always does. He ran his hand through his hair and I wondered for a moment whether he

felt it too— either one.

“Hey,” I said. “I didn’t think we were exile hunting today.”

“We’re not. We’re running,” he said with an intense determination.

“Oh. I kind of already went for a run today.” I really didn’t want to have to back up again.

“Not like this. We’re going cross- country, out of the city. We’ve been spending so much time on combat training and hunting

lately that we’ve been forgetting the basics.”

“And what are they?” I asked, looking at the ground, willing

myself to pull it together.

He waited until I looked up at him and then he held my eyes.

“How to get away.”

When
did
Lincoln
become
concerned
with
getting
away?
We were the stay- and- fight type.

He started walking toward his four- wheel- drive. I just followed.

What
else
are
you
going
to
do, Vi? Tell him you’re not up to it? Not likely.

————

We headed to the outskirts of the city, to a national park. I changed into my running gear in the backseat when we stopped. Lincoln

grabbed a couple bottles of water and waited by the hood, not once turning in my direction until he heard me get out and close the door behind me. Then we were off.

It was pretty crazy terrain, not like running on a track or even a 39

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path of some description. I knew that was why Lincoln had chosen it. It’s not like you get to choose your surface when an exile is running after you, but then again, if an exile is running after you, generally the best thing you can do is stop and fight. They’re almost always faster than us.