King 03 - Restless (9 page)

I was about to fling back a retort, but something stopped me. Instead, I answered him thoughtfully. “Nothing at all. If that’s what this is, if you just want to hang out the way we did last fall, then I guess I’m grateful. I’m feeling pretty alone right now.”

He didn’t answer, and in fact the rest of the short drive to the middle of town was silent. We found a parking spot not too far from the green around which King was built, and Rafe jumped out of the car to open my door for me before I could even touch for the handle. After I climbed out, he reached into the backseat and pulled out a red and white checked blanket. At my questioning look, I heard his reply even though he didn’t really answer me.

To sit on during the concert. So you don’t have to be on the grass.

I felt guilty on so many levels. First, just being out in public with a male who wasn’t Michael seemed like a betrayal. And then there were Rafe’s emotions, so unusually near the surface. Although he was trying to block me from reading his thoughts, I knew he had hoped that tonight might be something… more.

There were a few groups of people here and there on the large expanse of grass that made up the green. On a small stage at the far end, musicians were setting up microphones and instruments.

Rafe stopped partway down and spread the blanket. There were fewer people here, and although we could still see the stage, we were slightly out of the way of foot traffic. He dropped to the ground, and after a moment’s hesitation, I joined him.

“This is nice,” I admitted. The air still held a bit of the day’s warmth, and on the slight breeze I could smell popcorn, boiled peanuts and coffee from the concession stand on the other side of the lawn.

“I’m glad you think so.” Rafe’s voice was sincere, and closing my eyes, I began to relax for the first time in weeks. Maybe this was just what I needed: a break from the tension at home and at school, someone who wasn’t accusing or pushing me all the time-

“So would you like to tell me what’s going on with Ms. Lacusta?” 

Jerked out of my revelry, I opened one eye and glared at him, annoyed. 

“You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?” With a huff I moved away from Rafe, to the edge of the blanket.  Unaffected, he scooted over, too. 

“Like I said, Tas, we’re worried about you. Amber and I are, I mean. You’re acting weird all the time, and even if Amber believes that you’re not hanging out with the witch anymore, I know differently. And today at lunch—you want to explain that?”

Frowning, I shook my head. “I can’t. I don’t know what happened.” I drew a deep breath before continuing. “You said I was messing with other—stuff. Other powers. You’re right. I’ve been experimenting. And yes, Marica has been helping me.”

“Marica?” Rafe echoed, derision in his tone. “Seriously? You’re on a first-name basis with her now?”

I ignored that jibe. Rafe might be a pain in many ways, but I knew I could trust him. I needed to talk to someone who wasn’t my parents, Marica or even Amber, and Rafe fit the bill perfectly. 

“She’s been teaching me how to expand what I can do, to find out just what my power really is. She’s not evil, Rafe. She’s just—different.”

“When did this start?” This time it was curiosity, not accusation.

“Last fall. My independent study with her—well, it was more about learning the history of her people and what she could teach me. And then the day Reverend Pryce took me…” This was something I hadn’t shared with anyone at all. I swallowed hard. “I was in the woods with Marica. He followed us there, found us—experimenting.”

Rafe’s mouth dropped. “So you’re saying he caught you performing witchcraft in the forest with Ms. Lacusta? You never told me that. No wonder he was so shook up that day.”

I shook my head impatiently. “Rafe, you know it was more than that. He was sick. He was obsessed with me, with my so-called redemption. It was too bad that he saw what he did in the clearing, but it doesn’t change what he did afterward. He tried to drown me.”

Rafe was silent for a moment, considering. “But it does explain why he was so off the wall that day, what he was saying. You played right into his suspicions.”

I pushed away the guilt that had lingered over Cara and her father. Deep inside, part of me
had
feared that my own actions had made that day even worse, but I couldn’t bear to think about that now.

“Rafe… I want to know. You said it yourself, when we first met, that I wasn’t using my powers to their full potential. You said you couldn’t figure out why I wouldn’t do that. Well, now I am. I’d think you’d be happy.”

Rafe shook his head, troubled. “I know what I said. But I didn’t mean what you’re doing now. What happened at lunch today—you didn’t even know you were doing that, did you? You’re not in control of it, and that’s scary.”

I didn’t answer, and Rafe shifted slightly on the blanket, bringing one arm down on the blanket behind my back so that he was almost leaning over me. “Tell me what you’re doing. What is she teaching you?”

And so, hesitantly, I began to tell him the entire story, about Marica’s early days in Romania, her lost baby and her insistence that I was her dead daughter’s mystical twin, meant to take her place and be heir to the power that was passed down through the women in Marica’s family. I told him about our work last fall after the Reverend Pryce incident, when she taught me both to stretch my mind hearing ability and to block thoughts more effectively. 

I finished by detailing our meeting on Monday, when we had lifted and moved the orb of glass through our joined minds.

By the time I stopped talking, darkness had fallen and there was a slight chill around us. I shivered, and Rafe wordlessly helped me with my sweater, afterwards rubbing my arms lightly as though to warm me. I stiffened automatically and with a barely suppressed sigh, he dropped his hands. 

There was a loud squeal of feedback as the band took the stage and the lead singer picked up the microphone. I jumped, and Rafe smiled ruefully.

“If you want me to take you home now, I will,” he said quietly. 

“Why? Because I’ve told you what you wanted to know? Or because you’re thinking I’m seriously disturbed, and you’re taking me home to tell my parents everything?”

“No. I’m not going to tell your parents. But I’ll be honest with you, Tasmyn.” His eyes met mine, and I saw the serious concern there. “I’m more worried about you now than I was before. You’re messing with something very dangerous.”

“How can
you
say that? With the power you have and the way that you’ve used it?”

“I grew up around this kind of thing, Tasmyn. What the King families can do—well, we all understand it. My dad taught me about it early on, and his parents did the same for him. I’ve never heard of someone trying to train an outsider to expand her powers. And I think Ms. Lacusta is kind of a lunatic.”

“You don’t even know her!” I shot back.

“Tasmyn! Listen to yourself. She’s pulling you in. She’s encouraging you to lie to your parents-”

“Oh, and suddenly you’re the poster child for honest families?” I interrupted sarcastically.

Rafe’s eyes hardened. “You don’t know a whole lot about my family, but let me tell you something. I don’t lie to my parents or to my grandparents. But that really doesn’t matter. When an adult—and a teacher—is telling you that it’s okay to keep stuff from your parents, to have some pretty intense secrets, there is something seriously wrong. You know that.”

I closed my eyes again. Rafe’s words amped up the uneasiness I’d been feeling all week. When I wasn’t with Marica, I was second-guessing everything. But when I was with her, there was only curiosity and the desire to learn more.

“I’m not ready to back away yet, Rafe,” I answered him slowly. “But I could use someone to keep me honest. Someone who knows everything, who I can trust. I need you to be my anchor, keep me from… getting too far from who I am. Will you do that for me?”

Rafe regarded me steadily, staring into my eyes as if searching for something. Finally he nodded. 

“But you have to be honest with me. You have to stay close. Don’t shut me out.” His words were an echo of Michael’s, and I had to look away before I agreed.

“I promise. Thanks, Rafe. I was scared today. Those girls in the lunchroom—I was really angry, and all I could think about was how mad they were making me. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped in and calmed me down.” Gratitude lowered my mind block, and I felt Rafe’s yearning as a sudden rush.  Impulsively I reached up and touched his cheek. Rafe caught my hand in his.

“Don’t do anything you don’t really mean, Tas.” His voice was low and intense. 

I bit my lip and lowered my hand. “Sorry,” I whispered.  Rafe blew out a long breath through his teeth. I felt his frustration and the naked longing even as he struggled to control it and block me. 

I don’t know how to explain what happened next. Over the last few weeks I’d often had the sense that the real me—the very essence of who I am—wasn’t always fully in control. Instead that cool, impatient voice that sounded increasingly like Marica’s seemed to be running the show.  And suddenly, as though there had been an odd kind of blip, a shadow passed fleetingly over me and new Tasmyn took over.

As though I were watching someone else, my hand went back up. My fingers skimmed along Rafe’s cheek again, and this time he didn’t stop me. Our eyes locked, and I rose to my knees next to him. My hand moved around to the back of his neck, and I felt his silky hair against my fingers. Rafe closed his eyes and drew a ragged breath. 

I leaned closer to his face, until my lips were a hair’s breadth from his. It was not a moment of decision; it was impulse, and I didn’t heed at all the urgent warning of the part of me that still belonged solely to Michael. I touched my mouth to Rafe’s.

In all of my eighteen years, I had only kissed one boy—Michael. I hadn’t even wondered what it was like to kiss someone else. But now I felt every difference. 

As soon as my lips covered his, Rafe wrapped his arms around me, tightly. One hand reached behind my head to hold me closer. His mouth opened beneath mine, and he made a sound deep within his throat.

I don’t know how long we stayed that way, with my heart pounding against Rafe’s solid chest. While one of his hands continued to tangle in my hair, the other moved up and down my back in a slow but steady path. I was holding onto him almost desperately.

It was Rafe who finally pulled away, although he really didn’t move. He covered my face with light kisses, from my closed eyes down my cheeks and to my neck, and amongst the almost unintelligible thoughts I picked up, I thought I heard him murmur my name aloud. 

He leaned back slightly, pulling me with him so that I fell from my knees against his chest. Then his fingers were beneath my chin, tipping my mouth back again and covering it with his own.

This time he was more insistent, coaxing my lips open and running his hands along my sides. I was nearly insensible until I felt the warmth of his fingers slide against my cool skin just beneath the hem of my shirt. I pulled back abruptly, shaking my head.

“No, Rafe!” I could hardly breathe, and my cheeks felt chafed from the slight bristle on his face. I closed my eyes and leaned back, trying to catch my breath.

Rafe hadn’t moved, and when I opened my eyes, he was gazing at me, an inscrutable expression on his face. He looked deeply into my eyes as though he were trying to read something behind them.

“Who
are
you?” he murmured softly. When I didn’t answer immediately, he shook his head. He reached around to smooth my hair away from my face, lightly rubbing my back in a slightly proprietary manner. He grinned at me.

“Do I have to bend time again for you?” he inquired mischievously, and I knew at once he was referring to the first time he had kissed me, months ago. Although I didn’t remember it thanks to Rafe’s little mind-perception trick, it was something that had replayed in his mind with sufficient frequency that I almost thought I
did
recall it. 

In answer, I shook my head. I still couldn’t speak. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. Not only had I allowed Rafe to kiss me—to hold me—I had initiated it. The part of me responsible for that felt pretty satisfied. The deep down hidden me was horrified and guilty. I wasn’t ready to let her out yet; I couldn’t do that until I was at home, alone.

We sat for another little while listening to the music and enjoying the night. At some point, Rafe shifted so that I was sitting between his bent legs, leaning my back against him, his arms wrapped around me securely. Every once in a while I felt his lips on my head. I sat very still, equal parts enjoyment and misery.

When the band took a break, promising to return shortly, Rafe whispered in my ear.

“Do you think we should go? It’s getting kind of late.”

I nodded in regret and relief. “I think we probably should.”

In silence we folded the blanket, and Rafe tucked it under his arm. He reached for my hand and clasped it tightly as we turned to walk through the crowds to the car. 

We were on the edge of the grass when I accidentally picked up a vaguely familiar thought-voice. Involuntarily I turned in that direction and saw one of the girls who sat at my lunch table. She was looking at me with a mixture of amusement and surprise, one eyebrow arched. I looked away quickly, but I had already heard the direction of her thoughts, and with a sinking feeling, I realized that word of my little evening adventure with Rafe was going to spread rapidly.

If Rafe noticed her, he didn’t say or think anything. He helped me into the car, tossing the blanket in the back again. Preoccupied, I didn’t realize that we were nearly to my house until we turned onto my street.

“I thought you wanted to go for ice cream,” I reminded him.

Rafe shrugged with a grin. “That was only if we left the concert early. It was an excuse to spend more time with you.” He squeezed my hand. “I don’t think I need that now. Maybe we’ll go tomorrow night?” 

I couldn’t answer just then; I only smiled, hoping that I looked non-committal. He pulled the car smoothly to a stop at the curb and jumped out to open my door.