Stained (12 page)

"Yeah."

"Well?"

"I'm afraid we might need to cut your hair."

Cayne froze, and she laughed. "I told you."

His eyes narrowed, and he shook his head. His long locks bounced in rebellion. "Why?"

"That," she pointed at the scab, "is why. Remember the hundreds of Nephilim that are after you? They know you as Cayne with long hair. Right?"

"It's been that way since...I can remember."

"I know. But--"

"And it won't do much to hide my trail. Or yours."

"Yeah. But I thought any advantage we could--"

"You're right." He turned to lean on the counter. "Cut it. Hell, buzz it."

The row of bulbs over the mirror made his damp skin glisten. Julia allowed herself a brief glance, but her face got so hot she fled to grab a desk chair. Damn shirtlessness.

"Sit there," she said, and reached for her bag.

Cayne rested his arms on his knees. He looked at her through the mirror, and his mouth quirked. Softly, he said, "This reminds me of a story."

"What?"

"Guess."

Julia stepped closer and raised the comb to his head. She was nearly undone by the heat coming off his back. She felt each of his breaths in the bottom of her stomach.

"You have to give me a hint."

"It's a Bible story."

"That's fitting." She murmured. It only took her a second to get it. "Do you feel like Sampson?"

Cayne straightened his shoulders. "Do you feel like Delilah?"

Slowly, for her hands were clumsy this close, Julia ran the comb through his hair. He tilted his head. She pressed her fingers to his crown and again drew the comb. She slid her palm as she went, moving down his scalp to brace against tangles. Cayne closed his eyes.

She kept her pace steady as she stepped around him, brushing his hair until it was straight and his breathing was so soft she hardly heard it. Then she started to cut. His eyes opened once, and he touched a strand near his face. After that, he relaxed, waiting still and patient while the scissors made their swishing sound and his hair fell to her feet.

When it was finally short, she ran her hands through, gently tousling. He made a noise that sent a shiver down her spine, so she played with it some more. He leaned into her. His head was inches from her stomach, and she knew, just knew, that he was hearing her pounding heart.

When every inch of her was slick with sweat, Julia said she was finished and went quickly to bed.

Chapter 17

Julia woke the next morning to the smell of breakfast in bed.

"Cayne."

His eyes sparkled in the sunlit room. He nodded at a white Styrofoam box on the bedside table and Julia blushed. He was even hotter than usual with his new haircut. It wasn't a buzz cut, but it was short enough to accentuate his features--especially those beautiful green eyes.

She straightened her posture and tried to look unaffected. But when she flipped the lid back and the hot, tangy smell of steak reached her nose, she blanched. Steak. Breakfast steak, and medium rare at that.

Julia couldn't hold in a giggle. Cayne half-shrugged, obviously confused, and because he looked so cute, she let him squirm for a second.

"...No?"

Julia shook her head, smiling. She cradled the take-out box. "Is this what you eat for breakfast?"

"It's got lots of protein." His smile was crooked. "But now that I think about it...I guess that's kind of odd for most people."

Julia held her fingers apart. "Only a little."

The Audi was a wonderful car. Its pale hood glistened like a wet pearl under the midday sun that flung blinding light over the stark mountains and dry desert valleys of the Great Basin. They were still moving West, at Cayne's orders.

While Julia drove, he sat, shoulders loose, long legs stretched, staring out the window.

They had a brief battle over the radio, and Julia won an hour of pop. After that, they listened to classic rock.

Cayne's color was almost back to normal, and most of his scabs had disappeared. The big one was almost a scar. Julia wondered how his regenerative powers worked. After a seven-song marathon, she decided to ask.

"How fast do you heal?"

Cayne blinked, and she rolled her eyes. "Oh my God, it's a question!"

"I was going to answer, but now--"

"You have to!"

"Oh I do, do I?"

Julia grinned from ear to ear. She still felt butterflies every time he teased her. "Yep. Tell me right now, or I'll pull this car over."

"And spank me?"

Julia gaped. He winked, and she was sure her face looked like a tomato. That dirty jerk. Making her blush. "If you're lucky," she managed. She was pleased when Cayne cleared his throat.

"I heal fast."

"No joke."

"Under the right conditions."

"And what are those conditions?"

"That it's something minor. Most injuries I shake off in a few hours." He paused, assessing her out of the corner of his eye.

She nodded.

"But if that doesn't happen, I need sleep. Like last night."

"And how often do you sleep?"

"Not often," he said. "I'm not a fan of sleep."

Not a fan? Despite Cayne's new openness, Julia had a feeling he wasn't willing to share nightmares. Naturally, that jacked up her curiosity. "That sucks."

"It has advantages."

She batted her lashes. "Like watching pretty girls when they sleep?"

"Is that what you wish I did?"

"I know how you guys are."

Cayne laughed. "I'm probably not what you're used to."

"Hmmm... Fine, fine." She was so not blushing
again
. No way. "So what's so great about not sleeping?"

He shrugged. "I'm productive. And unlike you, I can see danger when it comes."

"Unlike
me
?"

"You sleep like the dead."

"I do not!"

"Do so."

"Whatever." She tossed her hair at him. "I guess you think you're some kind of bad ass?"

"I was." He ran a hand over his head. "But not anymore."

"Not anymore," she echoed, and then reached over to ruffle his hair.

It was supposed to be a quick, friendly gesture. But once her fingers sifted through the soft strands, they didn't want to leave.

He shivered under her touch; it made Julia's stomach tighten. Flustered, she slid her hand away and pasted on a very false smile. "I like it short."

He laughed. "Do you?"

"Yes." She rubbed her eyes. It was definitely time to change the subject. "So how long do you think it will take us to find Sam?"

Cayne gave her a sideways smile. "Weeks," he said, and that made her heart flutter.

But he must have wanted them to get where they were going fast, because every car on the road was in the right lane. They covered a lot of ground in a just a few hours and were somewhere outside Elko, Nevada, when Cayne lifted his shirt and smiled proudly.

Left with no other choice, Julia peeked at his abs. A soft, pink line was all that was left of the gushing wound he'd received the night before.

"That's amazing," she said. "My biggest scar's on my calf, and it took weeks to heal."

"What happened?"

"I fell off a four-wheeler once, and the motor kind of ran over me."

He looked appalled. "Someone ran over you?"

Julia explained ATVs and mudding, and she told him how she flipped after another four-wheeler cut her off in the woods. Cayne was all questions, so Julia explained that she was eleven and at a youth camp with some of her foster siblings.

"You had those?" He looked surprised.

"One at my first house, three at the second. None with...my last parents."

Cayne frowned. "You lived with more than one family?"

"Yep."

He considered this, and a part of her was amazed that his beautiful face was twisted in puzzlement over her mundane life. Stranger, still, when he asked for more details.

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

Julia drummed the steering wheel and delivered the spill: her biological parents died when she was a baby. She was told it was a car accident. Julia lived at a group-home until she was four, when she went to live with the Raysons, her first foster family. She stayed until fifth grade. She left because of some problems with their son, Billy. She--

"Problems?" Cayne asked.

"Problems."

"What happened?"

"I went back to group home." She could evade questions, too.

She went back to group home for three months before Sally and Frank Murchinson took her. She stayed with them until she was twelve, when Harry and Suzanne brought her home.

When she said their names, Cayne grunted softly.

"Yes. They're the ones."

It was too hard to say. Maybe even harder than it had been a few days ago. Now that she was thousands of miles from her home, it was finally real. With Cayne and her stealing cars and fighting Nephilim and chasing Samyaza, Harry and Suzanne were about all that seemed real.

Cayne touched her arm. "I'm sorry."