Rule (Roam Series, Book Five) (3 page)

I waited, listening to the silence on the line.

I loved Logan; his humor, his wit, and his practicality made us a congruent pair. Violet, on the other hand… I
did
love her, but we were oil and water most of the time. Wynn was just a little younger than Christopher, and Rose was only six months old. At the hospital in Ohio, I held my little niece for the first time, imagining what it would be like to have a child with someone…

… and then watch her grow old and die.

I kicked at the railing again, digging my fingernails into my scalp.

“If you were mortal tonight, would it change how you feel right now?”

I considered my anger.
Why am I angry? Because I have to follow a curfew… because Mom doesn’t trust me… because Dad thinks I’m sleeping with Liam…

Because Liam is a
stupid asshole.

“No, I guess not.”

“You didn’t ask for this responsibility, Eva. You earned it.
You’re not normal.
You’re extraordinary. “

Smiling into the phone, I sighed. “Thanks.”

“The choice you have to make scares your parents. They know you; they know you’ll choose what’s right, and you’ll save those people, in that world. And as much as they know what needs to be done, they are afraid of losing you. You’re their child.”

“Why are you always so right, and Violet is always so
bitchy?”

“Violet feels the same way. She just has the same temper that her sister has.”

I smirked. “Okay, I’ll let you go. Tell Wynn I miss her, and kiss Rose for me.”

“
I will. They’re sleeping. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I guess.” I kicked at the railing of the balcony, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders. The late October air crept into my bones.
“I can’t wait to see you guys.”

“Thanksgiving
for sure. We’ll be there on the nineteenth. Love you.”

“Okay.
Love you, too.”

The moment I disconnected, a text slid through.

Come to the Sand Bar tramp

I grinned at my best friend’s message.
Sand Bar
was another club on the island. Emma never failed to make me laugh at the worst moments.

I texted back quickly.

Can’t. Two weeks in Fort Perry for Irish shenanigans.

Her text slid through almost immediately.
Sneak out

You know my dad. I’ll get caught.

Who cares what’s another week

Sighing, I glanced at the ocean. The full, Carolina moon only reinforced the notion that I was crazy to think I’d get away with sneaking out
- again. The fire ladder in my bedroom could easily hook onto the balcony rail; I knew this because of my dad’s monthly fire drills.

Ok I’m coming
- pick me up at the stop light in twenty- if I don’t show, I got caught

K! don’t get caught!!!

I hurried to my bathroom, doing a three-minute touch-up on my hair and make-up. At my bed, I dropped to my knees, fishing underneath for the fire escape ladder. I knew it would take less than three minutes to ready the ladder, just as my father had documented in his last drill log.
Commander Perry, always prepared.

Glancing down at the ground below, I took a deep breath, clinging to the ladder.

Heights
.

You are immortal! Get over it!

Gripping each rung, white knuckled, I took one cautious step at a time.

Five rungs down, I froze, my fingers shaking at the thirty-foot drop.
Just go! You told Emma twenty minutes!

My boot touched the next rung down as the ladder swayed in the air, and I gasped as the step slipped from beneath my foot.

I was falling.

Blindly reaching for the ladder, I had no time to scream while trying to prepare myself for the hard stone patio below.

I felt the sickening impact of my head against the ground…

And then nothing.

I had no idea how much time had passed.

As my thoughts returned, the intense pain in my head took my breath away. Warm hands chafed my upper arms, and I felt my hair being brushed from my eyes. “Can you hear me?”

“My head…,” I panted and tried to sit up slowly, wondering if my back or neck were broken. Hot liquid pooled around my fingers. 

“
It will pass,
” his voice soothed, deep and comforting, as I blinked at the fading darkness.

The waiting was the worst. I drifted in and out of consciousness, balancing on a memory of being on the roof of the house, only ten years old. Six-year-old Christopher begged me to get down, threatening to go get our dad if I didn’t get off the roof. I was convinced I could retrieve the cheap, plastic boomerang lodged in the peak of the highest point.

I’d fallen to my first death only minutes later.

My mom was at the grocery store, and my dad found me on the driveway in a puddle of blood. Chris had witnessed the entire fall, and was bawling, hiding from behind the bush near the sidewalk. Knowing I was immortal did not take away the suffering horror that my small body endured that moment that I came to consciousness; my father held me, rocking me in his arms, his shirt covered in my blood.

Christopher learned of my immortality that night, and by dinner, I was showered and changed and promising my little brother that I would never scare him like that again.

Fully conscious now, the pain was instantaneous. I concentrated on the thoughts in my head, counting backwards, promising myself it would pass.

It will pass...

As I pulled my fingers away, I stared at the blood on my fingers. “Is it bad? Does my hair look bloody?”

His deep voice, amused, responded with a breathy laugh. “I cannot tell… it is so red.”

“What… who are you?” I tried to push away, but he stilled my hands.

“You do not remember me, then?”

His voice was so deep and smooth… intoxicating, really.
My eyes darted nervously to the glass doors of the patio.
Shit, I’m not dead… and I’m in so much trouble.
“Did my dad hear me fall?”

“I do not know.” He pulled his coat off of his shoulders, wrapping the heavy wool around my legs. “You are missing more than half of your gown, though, Eva.”

“My gown?” I sat up more fully, finally meeting his eyes.

The blue, so much lighter than my father’s, stole me from October and dropped me into a warm, June sky. Dark brown hair just the right amount of windblown, square jaw, and chiseled features made him look as though he’d stepped off the cover of one of Morgan’s romance novels.
Maybe it’s the ridiculous, white pirate blouse.

“Are there no stairs here?”

“Stairs?”
Yes, keep repeating everything he says. Clever.
“I…know you,” I realized, sitting up more fully.

He kneeled at my side.
“Do you permit me to pick you up and carry you into the house?”

“I can walk,” I did accept his hand as I climbed unsteadily to my feet. At that moment, my father threw open the sliding glass door and aimed his Glock.

I backed against the familiar man. “
Dad!
”

“Eva, don’t move-…,”

“West, I mean you no harm,” his voice was even as he lifted his hands high in the air.

“You’re not trying to abduct my daughter?”

I laughed, planting my hands on my hips. “I’d kick his
ass
.”

His eyes finally focused on me, and I dropped my hands, shrinking back as he lowered his weapon. “Eva, you’re covered in blood!”

“I fell… down the ladder… I was trying to… sneak out. I’m okay,” I promised, touching my head again. “It already stopped bleeding.”

“
Jesus Christ-...,”

“Dad-…,”

“Perhaps I could speak to Roam while you two discuss… this evening’s events.”

I turned to
the man behind me, watching his amusement grow to actual pleasure.

“Who
is
this guy?” I jabbed my thumb at his chest, stiffening to find it so muscular beneath the layers of billowing Fabio-fabric.

“Come in,” West gestured to the living room.
He nodded and walked ahead of me. I almost made it past my father…

Almost.

“Eva Anastasia Perry,
go upstairs
,
cover yourself
, and meet us in the living room in
ten minutes.
I don’t have to tell you how
disappointed I am in you.
”

Ugh-
middle name.
No point in trying to talk my way out of this one.

Sighing, I nodded. “Okay
.”

Walking to the stairs, I turned toward
the man again, drawn by the nagging feeling that I’d seen him before. The amusement in his eyes was gone, and replaced by something else entirely.

Shivering, I pulled
his coat more tightly around me.

Time slowed, and the light fixture over my head surged.

I realized then who he was.

A
ll of the blood drained from my face.

“Will?”

He nodded once, his eyes never leaving mine. “Hello again, Eva.”

I backed up the stairs before turning quickly and running for the shower.

As the hot water rinsed all of the blood from my hair, I stared at the swirling, crimson pattern at my feet.

I had vague memories of Logan and Violet’s wedding, and the man who had abducted me from the reception. I’d dreamt about my grandfather Asher, begging him to send my king to me to save me.

When Will came for me, I knew, at the very young age of four, that he would always come for me- whenever I called for him.

Through my childhood and
pre-teen years, I fantasized about my secret king, and his tall, strong body and charming smile. He’d sweep me away to the beautiful castle and make me his queen, and nothing else would matter in both of the worlds- except him. He would slay dragons and I’d sing at the window as doves landed in my hands. We would hold great celebrations and I’d dance with him all night long, and before I went to my side of the castle and he went to his… he’d brush the most feathery, romantic, mind-numbing kiss over my lips. I worked for the very best grades, perfected dancing, and strived to be exactly the kind of queen my Will deserved.

Until I met
Liam.

It wasn’t until graduation in June when I thought about Will again. I was digging through my drawers, searching for a
bobby pin to hold my graduation cap on my hair. From the back of the vanity I pulled the emerald-and-flower clip my mother had given me long, long ago in the castle.

Why is he here?

I slipped on a pair of cropped white sweats and a heather gray tank top, leaving my hair in wet tendrils over my shoulders. As I made my way back down the stairs, I focused on my parents sitting across from Will on the couch.

“… the second sun.
I should have realized… it would burn faster…,”

“My people do not blame you, Roam. They remember what my father did to you. You deserve happiness.”

“Eva and Chris are our lives,” she whispered, gripping my father’s hand. “We can’t lose them.”

“
Lose us?”

He turned to me as I approached the living room. My mother and father sat close to one another on the love seat, and Will sat on the end of long couch.

“How is your head?” Will asked me before my father could open his mouth to speak. I touched the healed wound, shrugging.

“All better.” I stood as straight as possible, meeting his eyes. “You’re the king, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“You’re
… early.” I dropped to the other end of the couch, tucking my legs under my body to sit perched on my knees.

“As I was explaining to your parents… I’m nearly too late.”

“What?”

“Christopher’s birth… created a second sun,
which we knew…,” my mother’s eyes filled with nervous tears. “But their ocean is overheating; their people cannot go out during the daylight.”

“What?” I narrowed my eyes, looking at Will.

“Your brother’s birth launched another sun into our sky. Time is running out; I have come here to ask for your decision.”

“
What?
” I repeated, my eyes darting to my father’s. I could tell, by his severe expression, that Will’s words true. “I just graduated!”

“
Eva-…,” my dad began, but the desperate look on my face cut him off sharply.

Run
. The prophecy loomed before me; Go to the other world and hang out indefinitely so their sun would stop frying the land, or screw them and stay here in my beach castle prison with controlling parents and a never-ending existence?