Out of This World (21 page)

“You need to look out for—”

“We're okay. I've got you,” I promised, trying to give him back some of the security he'd given me.

And as he went over, he held on to me, the both of us lost. Just as together we were found.

As simple and as terrifying as that.

 

We were still breathing like absused racehorses when he stroked a damp strand of hair from my cheek. “Every time we do that, it gets harder.”

I stood up and looked for my camisole. The last I'd seen it, it'd been sailing across the room. “Thank God for hard.”

“I don't want to joke about this.”

Where the hell was my top? “What do you want?”

“You.”

I turned back to him. “You just had me.”

“You know what I mean.”

I did know. Just as I was beginning to know how deep my feelings for him really were, despite my hang-ups.

But I really liked how things were right now. The close friendship. The new benefits. Everything that made a good relationship, without the
word
“relationship” attached to it, so that nothing could be taken away.

Not one single thing.

But I looked into his gorgeous eyes, saw the wanting, the yearning, and felt my heart crack, because he didn't—wouldn't—understand.

Proving it, he stood up with a long sigh, his shirt wrinkled, pants opened, looking unfairly sexy.

As he'd been doing all his life, he shoved his fingers through his hair in lieu of a comb. “Look, next time, well, there shouldn't be a next time.”

My stomach clenched. “So you're saying what? You don't want to see me anymore?”

“Not if we're only going to play at this thing.”

“But—”

I broke off at the sudden pounding of a fist on the door. “Omigod.”
I'd forgotten to keep looking
!

“Here.” Kellan tossed me my pj bottoms. “Goddamnit, I knew it.”

“Really?” I hopped on one leg while shoving my other into the bottoms. “You knew it, huh?”

“Yes.”

“You knew we were going to come to the Twilight Zone and get hit by lightning, then locked in an attic by a couple of crazies whose favorite words are ‘the swap' and ‘abilities.'”

He threw me my camisole, which had ended up on the floor. I caught it in the face. I pulled it away and scowled at him as he buttoned up his jeans and grabbed the gun.

“Hurry,” he said.

I opened my mouth, but he clapped his hand over it and pulled me flush to his body. The body that had just sent me into screaming ecstasy and back.
“Shh.”

The pounding came again, making the door shudder.

Hell, the walls and the floor shuddered, too. And in spite of being mad and hurt, I allowed myself to cling to Kel.

“We know you're in there!” yelled a terrifyingly gruff and angry voice. “Open up!”

Whoever it was, he was furious, and I somehow managed to focus on the door—

“Uh-oh,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Kellan muttered. “Definitely uh-oh.”

“What do we do?”

“You open the fuck up, that's what you do!” yelled the scary voice from the other side of the door. “Open now, or you'll be sorry.”

Kellan tried to see in the dark. “We need a better place to hide.”

“You think?”

“Any more of those handy closets-that-aren't-really-closets around?”

How he remained calm, while the hair on the back of my neck was standing straight up and my knees and teeth were knocking together, was beyond me. I searched the room and tried to focus.

But a gunshot rang in the night, shattering both the unnatural quiet and the bolt on the door, not to mention shaving a few years off my life.

T
he shot-up door swung open to reveal the two men I'd seen stealing the cookies, both of them just as huge as I'd thought, and just as beefy, each carrying enough armor to free a third-world country from terrorism. Kellan could see all this as well thanks to the lantern that one of them wore on his head, the light in the center of his forehead like the eye of a cyclops.

I'm pretty sure my life passed before my eyes, but since I was also seeing gray spots and thought I might throw up, I really couldn't be too sure of anything.

Kellan hadn't revealed his gun. There wasn't much point, with all those big bad-boy guns in our faces. He shoved me behind him, then managed to effortlessly hold me there despite my attempts otherwise.

Didn't he know I cared about him every bit as much as he cared about me, even if I'd been a bit stingy with my feelings?

And I had been stingy. I hated that about myself, and I promised God and the saints, and anyone else who could read my thoughts, that I wasn't going to hold back.

Not ever again.

“Who are you?” Kel demanded of the two men. He'd managed to get his jeans buttoned, but he still wore no shirt, no socks, no shoes—nothing to protect himself.

Who was this brave man standing between me and certain death, and why did he have to be brave
now,
when it was stupid to be so? “Kel—”

He somehow continued to keep me behind him in a way that prevented me from budging. But I could see, and what I did see was enough to turn my blood to ice.

The thugs wore old, ratty cargos, the khaki pants dirty and grimy, as if they'd never met a washing machine they liked. Their shirts had fared little better, both black T's and as torn and disgusting as the pants. Their arms were littered with tattoos, markings that made no sense to me. The one with the light on his head wore long, Rastafarian-style hair; the other was as bald as a cue ball. Both sported ragged headbands and an overall I-haven't-showered-this-year scent.

“Here's what we're going to do,” Curly said to Moe in a voice that sounded as if he'd eaten glass shards for lunch. One of his front teeth sparkled like a diamond. “We'll take 'em up the river, and do 'em there.”

“That's a stupid idea,” Moe said.

Curly growled. I swore dust rose up from his dreadlocks. “Are you calling me stupid?”

“Something wrong with your hearing?”

Curly turned his gun from us to his partner in crime, and bared his teeth. “Take it back.”

“Nope.”

“Take. It. Back.”

“Or you'll what?” Moe sneered.

“I'll tell Mom. Now say you're sorry you said I was stupid.”

“Fine. I'm sorry you're stupid.”

Steam came out of Curly's ears. “You're going to pay for that.”

Moe didn't look too scared. He was too busy trying to catch a good glimpse of me behind Kellan. Finally he gestured with his extremely lethal-looking gun. “You,” he said. “Hot stuff. Come out from behind there.”

Kellan's hand tightened on me, but he needn't have worried. I was not anxious to come out from behind him.

“Now,” Moe said.

“No,” Kellan said.

Moe leveled his gun at Kellan's head. “How about now?”

Terror struck me right through the heart, and I backed out of Kellan's grip, not an easy feat, since he didn't want to let me go. “Kel, please,” I whispered. “Don't give them an excuse to shoot you.”

Jaw tense enough to shatter, Kellan turned his head and kept his eyes on me. “No closer,” he commanded.

Not a problem. My feet had turned to concrete and weren't going anywhere.

“You.” Moe gestured to Kellan. “Back up.”

Kellan didn't move.

Moe did something to his gun that sounded like it was now cocked and ready to blast a hole through Kel's head.

Kellan backed up a few feet and put his hand behind him, where I knew he had the gun tucked in his waistband.

We couldn't have touched if we wanted to, which I realized was exactly the goal of our company.

“Pretty,” Curly said as he looked me over, from my bare feet to my camisole, which was fairly inconsequential, as I'd not had the chance to put the sweatshirt back on.

“Leave her alone,” Kellan said to Curly when he came close enough that I could smell his rank breath.

Yeah, leave me alone.
Fear had given me a chill, and I crossed my arms over myself to cover my breasts, which had Moe letting out a low, appreciative laugh.

“Nice,” he said, and nudged my arms with the blunt tip of his gun. “Drop 'em.”

Kel pulled his gun and aimed it right at Moe. “Don't touch her.”

Curly simply leveled his gun on Kel. “Drop it, or she dies.”

Kel didn't move.

Curly stepped closer to me, and aimed right between my eyes.

Kel, looking tortured at the choice he had, which was no choice at all, dropped his gun.

I hugged myself harder. I could see Curly's heart thudding, which surprised me, since I would have sworn he didn't have a heart. I could also see other reactions going on in his body, which made my parts shrivel up and go
ewww.

“Drop 'em,” he said again, not nearly as nicely.

“Don't, Rach,” Kel said, and Curly hit him in the face with the gun.

Kel fell. I cried out and lurched toward him, but Moe shifted his gun back to me, and I went still.

Moe gave me a slow smile that made me feel sick. “Now,” he said, running his tongue over his disgusting teeth. “Where were we? Oh yeah, drop your arms.”

Before I could, Kel pushed up to his knees and swiped his bleeding mouth with the back of his hand. “Touch her, and die,” he said.

“How about we touch her, and you die?” Curly asked conversationally.

“You can't kill me; I've got what you want.” Kel met the guy's gaze straight on, and a chill went through me at the look on his face.

He was prepared to die. For me.

Oh God. “We'll give you whatever you want,” I said quickly. “Just don't hurt him again.”

Curly's eyes lit with greed. “See, now that's what I'm talking about. Some cooperation.” He eyed me up and down and then back up again, eyebrow raised in a dare. Should I go on and torture Kel, his silence said, or are you going to drop your arms?

Since I was fresh out of tricks, I dropped my arms. He spent a long moment leering at my hardened nipples, until Curly jabbed him in the back with his gun. “Move, you're hogging the view.”

Kellan's jaw was tight enough to shatter, the cords in his neck standing up in bold relief, as the two of them looked their fill.

I didn't know what to do. My stomach felt funny, my legs incapable of holding me. For the first time, I understood true terror.

Kellan was looking at me, mouth still bleeding, his gaze filled with everything he was thinking. Fear for my safety. Frustration that he couldn't do anything about it. Anger that he'd allowed this to happen. His heart was speeding up, too. My biggest fear was that he'd do something stupid and get himself killed.

“Let's tie 'em up,” Curly said.

“Wait.” Moe held Curly back with his gun. “Which one of 'em has the strength?”

“Don't know.” Curly looked at me, and for some reason, I nodded. “You?” he asked.

“That's right.” Now
my
heart was going as fast as Kellan's, while Curly slowly circled around me, making sure to stay out of arm's reach.

I lifted my chin to nosebleed height. “You don't want to mess with me.”

“Rach,” Kel warned very softly.

I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to remain quiet. He wanted me safe and far away from here. Well, that made two of us.

“Whatcha going to do?” I asked, sounding far more brave than I was feeling. But if I could divert their attention from Kel, then maybe he could do something.

Moe growled, but a thunk from down below stopped them both cold.

“What was that?” Curly asked.

I looked down at the floor, and focused. Axel was just outside the back door of the kitchen, brushing his hands off. There was a fallen stack of chopped wood at his feet.

Had he just been out there chopping wood by coincidence, or had he actually thrown a piece of wood against the house as some sort of message?

Hard to tell.

But then, he did it again, picking up a log and tossing it hard against the siding.

On purpose.

“Shit,” Moe said, unable to see any of this, of course. He jerked his head, indicating that Curly should go check it out.

“Why do I have to do it?”

“Because I always have to do the dangerous stuff,” Moe answered.

“You,” Curly said to us. “Stay. We'll be right back.”

“Don't hurry on our account,” Kellan said.

Oh perfect. Now he was baiting them.

“You'll pay for that when we take ya upriver,” Moe promised.

Kellan, bleeding, bruised, just looked at them.

Moe leaned in and whispered, “And then after we have our fun with ya, you're gonna give me your ability.”

“You think so?” I asked, desperate to get their attention off Kel.

Curly and Moe looked at me and then at each other, with raised brows, that said, Whoa, look at the brave broad.

Too bad I wasn't feeling so brave.

Another thunk from below had both Curly and Moe jumping. Curly jabbed the gun at us. “Stay put, you hear me? We'll be right back. Then…” He made the motion of slitting his throat, and my blood went cold.

“We can't just leave 'em,” Moe said, pointing at me. “She can break out of just about anything, remember?”

“Right. Come on.”

They both stalked toward me, making my stomach run cold. I stepped back. “Um, Kel?”

“Don't lay a finger on her,” Kel warned them, holding himself very still, with his arms at his sides, looking poised and muscular and dangerous as hell.

“Oh, we won't lay a finger on her,” Moe promised with a smirk as Curly moved behind me.

Moe smiled, but before I could figure out why, I saw stars and everything faded to black.

 

I woke up with a hell of a headache to find my hands tied and stretched taut, up over my head.

Kellan was across the room, sitting in a chair near the window, hands behind his back and tied. The cut on his mouth had stopped bleeding, but he had a hell of a shiner going.

The door behind me was just shutting, and I opened my mouth, but Kel shook his head, his eyes filled with warning.

He didn't want me to speak.

Not easy, but I nodded, and as soon as we were alone, he tore free of his bonds in a very Hulk-like move that was quite impressive actually, and came to me.

I'd never been happier to see anyone in my life. “Kel—”

He put a finger to my lips, then gently tunneled his hands through my hair, looking me over from head to toe to make sure I was okay, feeling for the lump on the back of my head, courtesy of whatever Moe had hit me with.

I winced, and his jaw tightened. He ran his hand up the rope that held my hands over my head, his expression going even more bleak, if that was possible.

It took me only a moment to see why. Curly and Moe thought I had the strength ability, so they'd looped my hands above my head, attaching the rope to the heavy chandelier. If I pulled and broke free, the heavy glass would fall right on me.

Ingenious, really, for a couple of stupid pirates from an alternate universe far, far away…

Kel felt the rope, and didn't look encouraged.

I knew why. It'd been pulled tight enough to be digging into my skin. There was no give, not an inch, or he could have broken through it. If he tried now, the entire glass fixture above would come down.

On my head.

He looked at me, then put his mouth to my ear. “We can do this. I can break it. But when I say go, I want you to shove backwards. Do it fast, Rach.”

“No, I—”

“Listen to me. It's going to be loud, and we're going to bring attention to ourselves. Be ready to run. Can you do that?”

I nodded. Was he kidding? For our lives, I'd dance to the moon. “Where are Curly and Moe?”

“Curly and Moe?” A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Good names.” His hands covered mine, his body pressed against me in a way that put him, not me, in direct danger from the glass shards that would fall from above.

“Kel—”

“Go!”