The Barrier Between (Collector Series # 2) (18 page)

“Where have you been?” Ryker’s tone was sharp, his
face pinched in fury. His wrath took me off guard, and I stood
silently in the entry. “I didn’t know if you jumped to Zimbabwe or
China and couldn’t get back.”

My brows furrowed. “You’re mad at me?”

“Yes,” he growled.

I pushed past him, and he shut the door behind
me.

“I love you’re mad at
me
.” I put my hands on
my hips, facing him. “You vanished too. Where did
you
disappear to? I’ve been freaking out all day thinking Croygen
turned you over to Vadik or something. If you were really concerned
about me, you could have easily found me scouring this town
for
you
.”

A muscle along his jaw twitched, but he kept all
emotion from his face. “I can handle Croygen.”

“Really? Melosa thinks we should stay away from
him—that he is dangerous.”

“What does Melosa have to do with this? How does she
know Croygen?”

I crossed my arms. “She knows what we are.”

“What?” Ryker froze, his eyes widening. “She
knows?”

“I think she is a sensitive.” A sensitive wasn’t as
powerful as a seer, but they still saw more than a normal person.
“She warned me to be careful. Said Croygen was not to be
trusted.”

“She said that? She said to stay away from
Croygen?”

“Well, not in so many words. She called him the man
in black.”

Ryker rubbed his stubble, walking in a circle,
irritation riding high on his shoulders. He was silent, but the
energy of his anger was loud. He slammed the chair into the table.
“Like I said, I can handle Croygen. And we need him right now. I
don’t need some crazy kook getting into our business.”

“Excuse me? You know I am one of those crazy kooks.”
I pointed at myself.

Ryker angled his head in annoyance. “Slightly
different.”

“Yeah, I am crazier.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. His
fingers wrapped around the top of the chair. “You never told me
where you went.”

“Where I went?” I shook my head, confused as to why
this was more a concern than Melosa knowing what we were or the
danger of Croygen. “I jumped back here and then went immediately
back to Izel’s. You were gone. All day. So don’t give me this fake
overprotective crap. I can take care of myself.” I stepped to
him.

“Fake?” he repeated. “You think this is fake?”

“I somehow got through before you. I think I can
survive fine on my own.”

A crease wrinkled the space between his eyes. “What
are you talking about? I never said you couldn’t handle yourself.
Are you kidding? You can take care of yourself better than anyone I
know.”

“Then what is your problem?” I gritted out.

He worked his jaw back and forth, his hand rubbing at
his forehead. An aggravated noise came out of him as he turned and
walked away from me. “I was worried.”

“What?”

He wheeled around, his arms outstretched. “I was
worried about you, all right?”

I stood, stumped for a response.

“I didn’t know what happened to you, and I didn’t
like it.”

Oh
.

My earlier pumped-up self-talk deflated like a leaky
balloon.

We both stayed silent. Finally, I cleared my throat.
“What did Croygen want?”

Ryker rubbed at his beard. “He found Regnus. We meet
Croygen tomorrow morning after daybreak.”

“Really? That’s great.” I forced myself to sound
happy. I had to trust Ryker. If he said he could handle him, I had
to let it go. Plus, Ryker was right. We needed him.

Ryker’s gaze narrowed on the top of my tank, stalking
over to me. “You have blood on your shirt.” He picked up the
fabric, his touch igniting my skin.

I peered at the few spots of red on my top. My mouth
opened to tell him the truth, but nothing came out. I wasn’t ready.
Even more after last night. Deep down, I sensed Ryker knew the
truth, although neither of us vocalized it.

He moved toward the door. His shoulders tense around
his ears. “Don’t wait up.”

“What? Where are you going?”

He slipped out, ignoring me.

Ahhhhh!
A scream wanted to jump from my
throat. Instead, I grunted and slammed the other chair into the
table. “Goddamn Viking!” I leaned over the chair, breathing
deeply.

“Is it safe to come out now?” A little voice spoke
from the bag still wrapped around me.

I lifted off the strap and set it on the table. He
crawled out on the counter. “Sorry, Sprig.”

“I don’t like it when Mommy and Daddy fight.”

I glared at him as I walked over to the dresser,
pulling out a clean top.

“You know the asshole, I mean Ryker, is only acting
like a toad because he’s scared.”

“Scared of losing his magic.” I huffed and slammed
the drawer, the dresser banged into the wall.

“Don’t be all martyr-ie.”

“Martyr-ie? Is it even a word?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Adding an
ie
to the end of everything doesn’t
suddenly make it a word.”

He stuck his tongue out at me. “Getting off the
point,
Bhean
.” He grabbed at a bag of
Cancha Salada
,
a form of corn nuts, and started munching on the salty treats. He
frowned. “They really should coat these in honey.” But he still
lifted another to his mouth. “I mean, salt is fine, but I think
they would be much better dipped in sweet, lovely, sugary
honey.”

“Sprig?” I snapped my fingers. “Now you’re getting
off topic.”

“Right.” He moved to a grocery bag we left on the
table and threw out anything he couldn’t eat. All I could see was
his fuzzy tail as he rummaged through. “Ick.” He tossed a banana
over his shoulder. “Ugh.” A carton of toothpaste flew out on the
table. “Isn’t there anything good in here?”

I sighed when another item was disregarded from the
bag. “Sprig.”

“Oh, yes!” He wiggled out of the bag, rolling the can
of Inca Kola out with him. He fumbled with the lid, rattling the
can.

“Let me.” I could imagine the cola spraying us,
drenching the ceiling and walls with the sticky substance. I opened
it and jammed a straw into it.

He took a deep slug of the liquid and groaned
happily. “Better! What was I talking about? Oh right! Viking boy
doesn’t handle showing his feelings well. He will respond in anger
or frustration, but he’s only hiding the fact he cares for you... a
lot.”

I plunked down on the bed, noticing housekeeping had
made our bed with fresh sheets. A new stack of towels sat on the
table, and our disregarded clothes were now folded and stacked on
top of the dresser. Involuntarily, chagrin heated my face. The maid
only came in once a week, and she had been in the day before. I was
aware she lived in the room down the hall. She must have heard us,
and knew the sheets would need to be changed again.

“Told you, you were loud,” Sprig mumbled between
bites.

I leaned over my lap and put my face in my hands. I
was embarrassed everyone on this floor or perhaps the building
heard us, but more than anything, I wished to do it all over
again.

“
Bhean
.” Sprig jumped to the bed, crawling up
my leg. “Who knows what tomorrow is going to bring. So why are you
sitting here? Go after what you want.”

I gulped and looked at my hands. He was right. This
was not a time for regrets or fear. I stood up, Sprig falling to
the floor with a squeak. “You’re right.”

He climbed back on the mattress and bounced up and
down. “Go get him, girl!”

I nodded and marched for the door. I wasn’t going to
waste another second being stupid. Ryker might not feel the same,
but at least he would know how I felt.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Sprig stopped
jumping.

“To find Ryker.” I gave him a bemused look.

“Oh. Now? I was thinking more
after
you got me
dinner.” He widened his eyes, sweet and adoring. “The honey chicken
down at Jose Ricardo’s? Oh, pretty please. And several of the
suspiro limeño
. Holy fae poop! Those were good.”

I left him still jabbering. He had leftovers in the
small refrigerator. He would survive. Without thinking, I proceeded
to Tulio’s. It’s where I would go.

Soft rain pelted down as I ran for the bar. A low
rumble of thunder gurgled from the clouds above. It would soon
pour. Rain was different here than in Seattle. There it was
constant and something you almost could ignore. Rain here stopped
everything. It was as if the sky dumped all it had at once.

I wiped my arms and face as I entered the dingy bar.
It was quiet, but a few regulars sat at their usual stools. Ryker
was sitting at the end of the bar.

I stopped and watched him sip his beer. After every
drink he slammed the bottle on the bar, his body language cold and
unapproachable. Seeing him made it difficult not to lose the
determination propelling me here; rejection and heartache was hard
to ignore. But I knew my anger was not at him but our situation. We
both were not the type to sit around, depending on others for help.
I felt stagnant and lost. We had no real home or place to go. We
were waiting. And that killed both of us. At least now, dangerous
or not, Croygen gave us a forward moment. It could be our demise,
but I think we both would take it over this purgatory.

Tulio gave me a nod, and I settled into the seat next
to Ryker. Tulio set a beer in front of me, already knowing my
favorite.

“
Gracias.”

He quickly moved back to the other end of the bar,
closer to the TV and away from us. Most of the patrons were
watching soccer, ignoring the two outsiders.

“A little predictable, huh?” Ryker brought the bottle
to his lips and took a swig.

“Not many places to go in this town.”

Ryker snorted. “Jose Ricardo’s has a bar.”

“And it’s filled with humans having dinner.”

His nose twitched slightly with disgust.

The sound of thunder quaked through the bar and
filled the awkward silence between us. I took another gulp of beer,
needing the liquid courage. It also helped with the headache—hair
of the dog.

Just say it, Zoey. Rip the Band-Aid.

“Ryker.” I turned to face him. “What happened last
night—”

“You mean the
mistake
?” He kept his head
straight, cutting me off.

Instant knife in the heart.

“Like you said, we were drunk.” He shifted in his
seat. “We can forget it happened.”

My brows scrunched together.
Like I said?

My hand went to my mouth. “Oh my God. You heard me,
in the bathroom, talking to Sprig.”

The side of his mouth curved in a sneer. “We
scratched the itch. Now we can go back to normal. Disliking each
other.”

“No!” The word sputtered out of my mouth. “I-I don’t
want to go back.” He finally twisted to look at me. Lightning
flickered outside, reflecting in his pupils. “Is this why you’ve
been distant and cold to me all day?” I asked. He glanced back at
the mirror behind the bar. “I said those things because I was
scared. I was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same. I protect
myself. It’s what I do. Sprig caught me off guard, and it was my
automatic reaction.” I touched his arm. His eyes darted to my
fingers and then to my face. “It was all bullshit. But I’d rather
end it than lose you... if it’s what you want.”

My gaze shot up the tattoo on his neck as it
flickered with light.

“I want you in my life. Even if it’s only as
friends.” The words were thick, and it was hard to get them out of
my throat. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever let anyone see me,
but the floodgates were open, and I couldn’t seem to stop the words
from coming out. I could feel the tears building behind my lids,
but he gave me no time to let the emotion surface.

His hands were on my face, pulling me to him. His
lips found mine, and my heart exploded at his touch. His mouth
devoured mine, stealing my breath away. I hated PDA couples, but I
couldn’t stop kissing him and wanted the world to disappear around
us, to leave us alone. I sent out a “you don’t notice us” chant in
my head. Hopefully, my glamour worked good enough the other
customers would ignore the couple making out at the end of the
bar.

Outside the rain pelted the dirt in constant attack.
Another boom of thunder rocked through the room, and the lights
blinked in retaliation. A strange sense of
déjà vu
hit me as
lightning streaked around the sky, illuminating the dark pub.

This time I didn’t care if the world crumbled around
us. Neither of us seemed keen on pulling away. Our mouths wanted
more from the other, both of us gasping for air when we could. It
felt good to simply kiss him. It was something I could do all
night, though my lower half wanted way more.

Ryker broke away first, putting his forehead against
mine. “The entire day all I wanted to do was drag you back to bed.
I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Wanting you.”