Pack of Strays (The Fangborn Series Book 2) (13 page)

The sound of shower curtain rings sliding along the rod. I wasn’t alone anymore.

I turned around. Adam was naked. He looked good. I applied soapy hands to his chest, which was hard with muscle. He leaned down, and we kissed, and it got more interesting and engaging. The more I washed him, the more he tried to enfold me. The more
washing
, the more we were both slippery, the more we tried to hold onto each other. I ran my hands down his back, then around to his front, where I found an admirable and gratifying hardness.

I continued with the soap until he said, “No, bed.” His voice was hoarse. “I don’t want to break a neck in here.”

I smiled, barely able to contain myself. “We can level the
playing
field.”

I grabbed a towel and got out, a last lingering hand on his cock. He detached my hand, his eyes closed. “Not yet. One minute.”

“Make it thirty seconds.”

I dove into the bed, burrowed under the sheets.

Twenty seconds later, Adam was there, rinsed off, still damp. He reached over, and emptied the bag, dumping a package of
condoms
onto the floor. Pulled one on and got in with me.

Hands everywhere, and it was great, until he brushed my wrist, my collarbone, and my shoulder, on his way down to my breast.

I flinched. He said, “It’s still you, Zoe. It’s only you.”

I nodded, suddenly eager for him to get back to business. He did some very clever things with his tongue. So clever, I forgot about the bracelet, all the jewels, the Fangborn.

I was a human girl in bed with a human boy. And he was
brilliant
, huge, muscular, masculine.

My breath caught.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Oh, yeah.”

I shimmied down and he shimmied up. Bright lights, nothing to do with the bracelet.

I followed that thought as we started to move rhythmically. It didn’t take me long to get there, and Adam held on long enough to be able to join me.

Adam fell asleep with his arm over me. It felt wonderful, so normal. I fell asleep. Not drunk, not possessed, not a demon.
Happy
. Real.

Chapter Eleven

I woke up alone. A note was on the bathroom mirror:
Breakfast downstairs
.

I washed and all but bounced to the elevator. I saw him before he saw me; he was outside the restaurant, talking on his phone. “… sounds bad. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Take care.”

He disconnected, looked up, smiled when he saw me. “
Morning
.”

My smile had vanished. All my resolutions and dedication to the solitary life had evaporated after last night. And who was waiting for Adam at home? “You’re leaving?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Bad news from the home front. Everything I think should be happening—Knight calling conferences, making public noise about an announcement, calling in favors, getting ready for
I-Day—it’
s not happening. Quite the opposite. I have a … source. He’s holed up and under heavy security.”

Knight was bad news, but I couldn’t help wondering about Adam’s source. “Well, you’d think if he was going to move forward with the Identification of the Fangborn to Normals, he’d be all over the place, getting his ducks in a row.”

“Right. I think—I’m hoping—Knight’s occupied, trying to shut down the Order.
Them
, we’ve seen too much of.” He looked away. “So. I’m going back to the States. Some folks who are … keeping an eye on Knight need my help.”

“You can’t,” I said. I’d had a little peace and was going to fight for more. “I need to go to Istanbul. Come with me.”

That surprised both of us. “You mean, I can’t go back because you need my help? Or I can’t go back because … why?”

“I mean …” I shook my head. I didn’t know. “I just don’t want you to go. I’ve spent more time with you alone in the past few weeks than I have with anyone in the past year. You have no idea what that means to me. I need you. I need help facing this.”

There. It was out. It was a relief to say, “I need help” out loud to someone who could do something about it.

Adam’s face was solemn. He stared at the busy hotel dining room for a moment. “Zoe, it was always possible I would have had to go before. It’s our bad luck that I’m getting the bad news now, and I have to investigate—”

“You should kill him, Zoe.” Sean sounded as nonchalant as if he were suggesting pizza.

My blood temperature dropped fifteen degrees, chilled by the idea. I was taken so aback, I missed some of what Adam was saying. Was this some sick sort of joke because Will was Sean’s friend and I’d just slept with Adam?

“What?” I answered Sean, interrupting Adam. “No.”

“Zoe, about last night. I loved last night, and would like to try it out again, very, very soon. And as for other things … I like the way you think, I like the way you fight, I like watching you figure out a problem. I liked watching you sleep this morning. I want to see where this will go, but I can’t, not right now.”

Wow. I thought I’d been brave. And Adam was telling the truth. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I understand that, I think.” I hesitated. “You really have to go?”

He nodded. “I’ll join you again just as soon as I find out what’s going on. I’ll call, and we’ll meet up. Wherever you want, however you want—Istanbul, Australia, Antarctica—you name it.”

“Zoe, you can’t let him slow you down or distract you,” Sean whispered again.

Something not deep enough inside me agreed with Sean. It would be so easy. It would probably be a smart defensive move. All I’d have to do was apologize now. Get a good breakfast. Have sex. And wait until Adam dozed off.

Jesus, Zoe,
I thought, horrified.
Get a grip. Killing Adam isn’t an option. He’s done everything he said he would, and more. He’s been a friend in so many ways, on this trip, never questioning me, trying to help.

And by the way, Sean? Joking or no, you know I don’t kill
people
randomly.

Sean said nothing.

I started to shake. It occurred to me that easy, evil thoughts like
that would be my undoing. I’d barely restrained myself from staving in
the New York bartender’s head; I’d broken one of Gerry Steuben’s ribs, lashing out at him. I’d already nearly killed Adam in my sleep. Maybe it was best to get Adam away from me, before I was tempted again—or worse, did something “accidentally on purpose.”

“Yeah, okay,” I said finally. “I don’t like it, but …” My voice grew rough as I struggled with fear and truth. “About the bracelet. I’m … I’m scared. What am … I becoming?”

“You can always stop looking,” he said. A little too quickly, a little too easily. “Nothing says you have to keep on.” He hesitated. “
I
wish you’d stop. I worry about you. About the toll this is taking on you. I’m scared
for
you, Zoe.”

I certainly wasn’t the girl he’d threatened in Venice; I wasn’t even the werewolf he’d helped escape the TRG. But I knew he wasn’t talking about that.

Again, he showed his courage and continued. “I see the way you look at people sometimes. At me. It’s … predatory. Not that you’d … you know, necessarily act on it, but all the same.”

I nodded. “I know. I worry about it, too. And following the
artifacts
is an even stronger compulsion than the Call to Change. What does that mean? Adam, I don’t know if I’m built to deal with what’s coming down the pike.”

“Look, yes, I’m scared. Yes, something’s going on. I don’t like it. But you’ve shown me, time and time again, you can handle anything.” He leaned in, rested his forehead on the top of my head. “
I
know you can. I swear, I’ll join you as soon as I can. I’ll keep i
n to
uch.”

I nodded again.

“Promise me you’ll be careful. The Order has centers all over the world, but they originated in what is now Turkey. They’ll be crawling all over the place.”

“I will, I promise.” Thinking about the Order was much easier than thinking about me.

It was awkward, him watching me eat my breakfast, then me watching him pack. My attachment to Adam was growing. I’d come to trust him despite our antagonistic first meetings. I shook myself.
Get a grip, Zoe. He’ll be back, or you’ll finish up and meet him.

Adam and I got to the airport. Said a very awkward goodbye that eventually led to me offering him a hand and a cheek. He smiled, shook his head, and kissed me properly. I returned the kiss with everything I had.

Separation didn’t necessarily mean forever, I told myself, as I booked a flight to Istanbul.

By the time I arrived at Ataturk Airport and found a place to stay, and figured out approximately where I was supposed to go, it was late, almost midnight. The city was lit up on the left side of
Kennedy
Caddesi
, the water dotted with ships’ lights on the right-hand side. I found a little family hotel on the noisy side of the
Sultanahmet
, which was a shock of lighted minarets and skyscrapers after the bourgeois familiarity of Copenhagen. I ate something in the restaurant downstairs that I didn’t recognize but which tasted wonderful, and then collapsed and slept like the dead.

Next morning, I overslept and made up for some substandard travel meals. I had to figure out how to find the holy site I’d been told about by the trader.

In Istanbul, the number of sites holy to many religions is
astronomical
.

I left, determined to start searching somewhere, when I felt a pull to move down another street.

I looked up to see a familiar gait and face not too far from me. I recognized the shirt; I’d bought it for his birthday.

“Danny! Jesus,
Danny
!” I called before I even thought that he might have the same reaction as Gerry and Will.

Heads turned; I smiled tentatively, so I didn’t look too crazy with hope, with fear.

My cousin Danny went rigid, and only with an effort did he turn around. His dark hair was shorter than it had been, and the curls that had softened his face were gone, giving him an older, sterner look than I remembered or liked. I used to joke that the only tan he got was from his computer screen, but he’d been out in the sun lately, it seemed. His glasses were the same as ever, but the expression on his face—concentration, disapproval, a little fear—was unfamiliar to me.

I approached slowly, not wanting to scare him off. I couldn’t stand another response like Will’s.

His eyes closed, his lips were moving. For a foolish second, I thought he might be whispering a spell, something to keep me away. He was adjusting something on his wrist, and until I drew a little closer, I thought it might be some kind of communications device. It turned out to be a thick piece of string like jump cord, knotted. Nothing more. He opened his eyes.

I hesitated. To say that I’d become paranoid about my friends, and their response to me, was more than an understatement.

“Zoe?” Conflict shadowed his face, and he spoke with an effort, like he was trying to remember something. “You didn’t just take off, did you?”

“What?” I took a few more steps forward, still slowly, as if approaching a wild animal. I spoke quickly and quietly to reassure him. “No, Danny, never. They told me you left—and Will and the Steubens—long before I left the TRG lab. Because they were testing me, I mean, actually
performing
tests on me. So I busted out.
I
never left you.”

He nodded. Maybe he wasn’t convinced, but he wasn’t running from me, either. “I didn’t think you would, but …”

Hope kindled. “But they told you … and maybe some vampire gave you a jolt of believe-me juice?”

He nodded. “I can’t remember, but yeah, that’s what I’m
thinking
.”

I nodded slowly, feeling a lump form in my throat. He was fighting their lies. “So how come you … you’re not running? You want to believe me?” I could see him struggling, but I wanted to hear it for myself.

“Kobayashi Maru.”

“What?” It took me a minute to come up with the reference, and it still didn’t make sense. “That’s that test from
Star Trek
, right? The students have to take part in a simulation they know they can’t possibly win.”

He nodded. “The game was rigged. It’s not completely analogous, but I figured at some point I would encounter an untenable, if not unwinnable, situation dealing with the TRG.” It was the skeptical, logical Danny I knew from my youth. “Zoe, a secret
government
agency
plus
vampires who could change my memory? I’m not a conspiracy theorist, but I’m not an idiot, either.”

My relief brought tears.

He continued, more strongly now, maybe convinced by my honest emotion. “I saw how they were treating you, and I wrote a note to myself to remind me of that, and that I knew, deep down, if you were going to take off, either you’d take me with you or warn me or let me know, somehow, after. So I was hurt and sad when they said you’d broken out, but I remembered I’d set up that file—they didn’t know about that, so they couldn’t erase that memory. I read the file and did the math, and my sketchy, distant memories made more sense than the scraps of new memories. The new ones were less trustworthy; I had a reason to believe the old ones. Therefore …”

I went to hug him, then paused. Danny wasn’t looking directly at me. “It’s still hard, though, right?” I said, hating to acknowledge it. “I mean, it’s not one hundred percent, right? You trusting me?”

He looked around, then sighed. “Honestly? No. My first reaction is to take off, drop you like a bad habit. Which is why I have this.” He held up the wrist with the knotted string. “Physical reinforcement of an otherwise intangible idea.”

I reached out to touch it but pulled my hand back. My eyes filled. Danny was reprogramming himself to believe me. Believe
in
me.

There were a few others who could have used a piece of string and a letter to themselves, I thought, trying hard not to feel bitter about Will, even if it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t even tried. He’d trusted the others instead of me.

“Why are you here?” Danny asked.

“Had to. Another vision,” I said, nodding to the bracelet. “Another artifact or fragment, somewhere in Istanbul. They’re calling me. It’s getting really weird, Danny.”

“In what way, weird?”

“Some new powers, some older ones enhanced. All wonky. These visions of where I need to go … nothing stops them. Pain driving me to find artifacts.”

He digested that. “Well, I have a car. We can go together.”

I could no longer restrain myself. I threw my arms around him. He hugged me back, maybe a little tentatively. He had filled out, had more strength to his frame than I remembered. I wasn’t the only one being changed by this experience.