Gravity (22 page)

It only took me a second to understand what he was asking.  And as soon as I did, I felt my cheeks blaze in reaction.

“Not like that.  I don’t want to name names, but one of the girls at school is a succubus.  When she is around someone she really wants or she gets really…hungry or whatever, I feel what she feels.  I sort of experience it with her.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“You don’t have to answer me, but it’s Lacey, isn’t it?  Is that what was going on in the bathroom when I got to your house the day of the birthday party?”

Although I said nothing and I maintained his eye contact, making every effort not to betray my best friend, I knew that he knew.  The corners of his mouth tipped up the tiniest bit before they fell straight again.

“That’s what I thought.”

“I think the bigger question here is what magic is going on inside your head?  And why around those pictures?”

My attempt at a subject change was immediately successful.  Trace shifted mental gears and was right there with me.

“If you were around her again, would you be able to find out more?”

“I have no idea.  I barely know how any of this works, much less how to really make it work in a specific way or for a specific purpose.”

“But we could try?  Would you be willing to do that for me?”

I avoided saying what I was thinking which was that there was little that I
wouldn’t
do for Trace.  “Of course.”

“Good,” he said, settling back into the driver’s seat and reaching for the gear shift.  “Then it’s a date.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

********

That night, I lay in bed struggling to calm my frustration over Brady’s childish display when Trace and I had arrived at the house.  Well, that wasn’t the sole reason for my frustration.  The fact that he’d ruined yet another chance for Trace to finally kiss me was what drove me craziest.

He must’ve been listening for the throaty rumble of Trace’s truck, because, no sooner than Trace had pulled into the driveway and shifted into park, Brady was out on the front porch.  In the back of my mind, I was thankful he hadn’t done anything truly egregious.  In fact, he hadn’t even come off the porch.  But he hadn’t needed to.  He’d simply stood there—barefoot and smiling, arms crossed over his chest, rocking back on his heels—and waited.  Words were not necessary, so clear was his message.  He might as well have used a bull horn.

I had been both surprised and oddly impressed when Trace had slowly turned toward me in his seat, blatantly ignoring my ridiculous brother.  He hadn’t seemed the least bit ruffled.  I was the one who had been most unnerved by his display.  If I hadn’t quickly said my goodbyes, Trace might well have kissed me regardless of Brady’s attempts at intimidation.  It was a moot point, however, as I had been unwilling to test the theory.  In my mind, Brady might’ve gone ballistic, and I didn’t want to risk spending the night picking vampire fangs and werewolf teeth from their throats.

Angrily yanking on the covers, I turned over onto my side to face the window across from my bed.  I watched the shadow of the tree outside paint shifting shapes in the pool of moonlight that spilled onto my carpet.  I could all but feel the breeze as I let the sway of the branches lull me into a much more relaxed state.  My eyelids were finally getting heavy when a delicious mixture of calm and excitement washed over me.

Even before I saw his shadow, even before I heard his light knock on my window, I knew it was Trace.  Whether it was my relaxed state and I was more receptive to him or something else I wasn’t sure, but I knew with an undeniable certainty that it was him.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I slid from beneath the covers and padded to the window.  When I parted my sheer blush-colored curtains, Trace was standing outside on the lawn, hands stuffed into his pockets, waiting.  He wasn’t smiling.  He wasn’t fidgeting.  He wasn’t frowning.  He was simply watching.

Our house had the old style windows that push out, so I unlatched the right side and pushed it toward Trace.  He’d apparently taken several steps back after he’d knocked, so it didn’t come anywhere near him.

“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly, hyper aware of what Brady’s reaction would be if he found Trace at my window.  Luckily, Julia was still gone, although I doubt she would’ve cared anyway.  She wasn’t exactly maternal.

I leaned against the window sill, waiting for Trace to speak, but he didn’t.  He just stood perfectly still for about thirty nerve-racking seconds. 

Finally, the light breeze carried his raspy voice to my ears.

“There was something I wanted to tell you.”

“Okay.”

He took one step forward.  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you tonight.”  Another step.  “In fact, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for a while.”  Another step.  “It’s just getting worse.  But tonight,” he said, taking the step that would bring him within a foot of me.  “There was something else.”

I felt breathless with anticipation.  I saw his honey eyes, turned dark gold in the dim light, flicker to my lips and back. 

“And what’s that?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a while, but tonight I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I do it.”

“What’s that?” I repeated, my own voice barely a whisper.

“I want to kiss you, Peyton,” he confessed, shifting forward just enough to put his face within six inches of mine. “I
need
to kiss you.”

Slowly, as if giving me plenty of time to tell him to go home, plenty of time to stop him before he went any further, he raised his arms and cupped my face in both of his hands. 

“I need to kiss you,” he said once more, almost reverentially.  And then, inch by agonizing inch, he lowered his head until his lips met mine. 

As though someone had flipped a switch to turn it off, the world disappeared the instant his mouth made contact with mine.  At that moment, it seemed that all I would ever need to live would be provided through the touch of his skin.  I didn’t have to open my eyes to know that there were threads from our souls stretching from the center of our being and meeting in the air around us.  I could feel them joining us together, bonding us forever. 

Trace tilted his head and deepened the kiss.  My lips fell open and his tongue slipped easily between them.  It slid along mine, teasing me with the sweet taste of his mouth as he moved one hand to the back of my head.

I reached up to hold on to his biceps, needing more contact, but unable to get it with the wall between us.  They twitched beneath my fingertips causing a thrill to race down my spine. 

Much too soon, Trace wrapped up the kiss and pulled his mouth away from mine.  He looked down into my face and smiled, a gesture so gorgeous I thought my heart might stop. 

Happier than I could ever remember feeling, I smiled in return.  But then a sad, troubled look fell over his face like a dark curtain.  And I felt doom knocking at my door.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“I also came to say goodbye,” he announced, rocking my world to its very foundations.

“Wh-what?”

“I’m going to find my father.”

“But what about the magic and trying to figure out what’s going on with your mother?”

“I still want to do that, but I just got this feeling in my gut like I should go back to the meadow.  I think my father might be there.”

“Trace, that’s crazy!  What if he’s not the only one there?  What if there is a repeat of last night?”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.  This is just something I have to do,” he said, taking a step back away from me.  “I just wanted to see you before I left, just in case…”

“Don’t talk like that!”  I felt almost panicked at the thought of never seeing Trace again.  “This is…it’s…it’s crazy!”

“I know, and if this wasn’t something I truly felt that I had to do, I wouldn’t go.  I’d wait until I had some more answers.  But I just feel like I need to go tonight.”

I let his words sink in as I debated my best course of action.  It seemed, however, that logic and reason and sensibility were all taking a back seat to the overwhelming fear that Trace was walking out of my life forever, that something might happen to him and I’d never see him again.  I knew that I literally couldn’t survive without him. I knew that if he didn’t come back that I would be torn apart by all that was happening around me.  Instinctively, I knew that he had been made specifically for me, and I for him, that we were necessary for each other’s survival.

So I decided to go with him. 

It wasn’t as rash a decision as it sounded.  The realization hit me that I would rather
die with him
than live without him.  That’s what made up my mind.

“I’m coming with you,” I announced flatly, hoping my tone brooked no argument.

“No, it’s too dangerous.”

“I don’t care.  Two is better than one.  We’re stronger together.  You know that.”

He opened his mouth and started to say something, but he snapped it shut quickly.  I knew what he was doing.  He wanted to argue, he was
trying
to argue, but he knew it was futile.  He knew I was right.  He knew there was no point in debating the truth of the matter.    

“Out there, I’m not sure I can protect you.”

“Then maybe I can protect you.”

Several emotions flickered across his face in rapid succession.  It was a fascinating display to behold.  And then, with an urgency born of something not from this world, he stepped forward, drove his fingers into my hair and crushed his mouth against mine. 

Desperation was there.  Desire was there.  Strength was there.  Gratitude was there.  So was fear, just a small amount, but it was all wrapped up in something else, something stronger than every other emotion.  It was something solid and eternal, something mystical and surreal, something more important than anything else in our lives.

When he released me, both of us breathless and shaking, I tossed him a quick smile and ducked back into my room to throw on jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt.  Pushing my feet into tennis shoes, I raced back to the window.

Only he was gone. He’d left me anyway.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 Without a moment’s hesitation, I ran into the hall and banged on Brady’s door, not giving him time to answer me before I flung it open.

“Get up!  We’ve got to go.”

“What?” he said, sitting straight up in the bed, alarmed and trying to shake off sleep.  “What’s wrong?  Where are we going?”

“It’s Trace.  He’s going back to the meadow.  We have to go, Brady.  Right now.”

I bent to grab from the floor the clothes he’d recently shed.  I found his shirt and his shorts and…a bra? 

“What’s this?” I asked, holding up the purple satin undergarment by one thin strap.

“Um, it’s…uh,” he stammered uncomfortably.

“It’s mine,” came a familiar feminine voice from somewhere near Brady.

Just then, Lacey poked her head up above the covers.  She was lying right next to Brady.  I hadn’t been able to see her beneath the covers without the benefit of light.  And I was glad for that.  I was shocked to my toenails as it was. I didn’t need any explicit visuals forever burned onto my mind.

“Lacey?”

I could see the flash of her pearly grin as she nodded her tangled head.