Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel) (11 page)

“It’s just jeans and a black jersey,” he said with a grin. “But I did wear my softest, for your cuddling comfort.”

I rubbed my hands on it, pushing myself closer to him. “Not bad. Was it hard to find the motel?”

“I’ve dropped you off here before, remember?”

No, I didn’t. I’d forgotten that Attic would tweak a few of Jason’s memories when he was close enough. “Of course.” I tapped my head as if I’d had an elderly moment. “Let’s go.”

I pulled him up the stairs, stopping outside a door that read
‘security’
. Opening it, I led Jason inside. Albelin had suggested that for tonight we should stay indoors, and this room was where we could watch a film with at least some privacy—he’d promised none of the other Guardians would come in there. Which was a relief. I needed to relax, not worry someone was going to storm in at any moment. 

A few rows of loveseats, a projector and shelves with DVDs filled the small room. I motioned to films. “Choose any film you want.”

“You don’t want a say?” Jason asked, already flicking through the options.

I shrugged and moved to a loveseat at the front. “Surprise me,” I said, re-arranging for the third time that evening a table with pumpkin muffins and a couple of bottles of ginger ale. Comfortable and relaxed was the key. Though I wasn’t sure why I thought the table arrangement would help with that. I moved the bottles under the table, so as not to disturb our view of the film. The room bordered on cool. I scanned the walls for a heater. Nothing. “Hey, Jason, you sort out the film. I’ll be back in a sec.”

Ducking out, I started making my way to room fourteen. No way was I calling it
my
room.

I pulled the quilt off the bed. It would be large enough to cover the both of us, and thin enough that we wouldn’t cook.

On my way back out, I saw a credit card with a note attached on the desk. I picked the paper up with one hand, hugging the blanket with the other.

I know you won’t want to use this, but you can’t live with only the clothes in that bag
.
And if you’re shaking your head right now
(I was)
, then let your stubbornness be the one to explain why you only have one fresh set of underwear (okay, two with what you came here with). Just say the word and we go shopping.

During the course of reading the note, I’d dropped the blanket and
—judging by the heat of my cheeks—was more red than a fire truck. I couldn’t shake off the thought that Attic had sifted through my underwear. God. I fanned my face, which may have lessened the glow on my cheeks, but it did nothing to stop my mortification. The undies he’d brought were one of the sexier pairs I owned—lacy and purple. Had Attic chosen them specifically? Should I even be surprised? This stuff was his forte after all.

There was a knock at the door. I frowned, had Attic given Jason a memory how to find my room? I dismissed the idea, remembering the ring that had been in Attic’s voice as he’d said Jason’s name this morning. Somehow I didn’t think he’d give Jason anything that wasn’t necessary.

“It’s Alyse,” came a sharp voice.

I stepped over the heaped blanket and opened the door. “Yeah?”

“You know, I didn’t intend to stop, I just passed your room on the way to mine.”

“So, why did you?” I asked, confused.

“I heard what you were thinking and it was
harsh
.” Alyse stepped over the threshold. Her breath cooled my cheeks. “You have no idea
who
he is.”

At her emphasis, Attic’s black gloves flashed in my head.

Alyse lowered her voice, speaking to me in the most serious tone I’d heard from her. “Attic has many fortes. Only a fool would judge him based solely on one.” In a movement so quick I almost missed it, she was gone.

I dragged the quilt into the movie room.
Harsh.
I wasn’t sure Alyse knew what the word meant. In the last twenty-four hours, I’d relived my death and had lost my entire family— who, for all intents and purposes, may as well have also died.
That
was harsh.

Still, her words gnawed at me.

“Okay,” Jason said. “I’ve chosen the movie. Sit down and I’ll flick the lights.” Hearing Jason helped to ebb the pain swirling dangerously close to the surface.

I sank into the loveseat. Jason sat himself on the opposite corner, as if trying to remain at a respectable distance. Light from the screen lit his face, making him look like a hologram. I grabbed his hand for reassurance he was truly there. He looked relieved I’d made the first move and pulled me onto his lap, so my head rested against his chest. His warmth comforted me enough to focus on the film.

“Dracula?” I asked, Jason’s bookshelf of paranormal literature coming back to me. “You have a thing for the living dead, huh?” A shudder ran through me as the words came out. Wasn’t that exactly what I was now?

“Promise you won’t laugh at me?”

I swallowed, determined to focus on one of the few people I’d barely managed not to let slip away from me. “Promise.”

“The idea of living forever fascinates me. I don’t know why exactly. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that death scares me.” He shrugged.

I squeezed his hand, my heart racing. How would he take it if he found out I’d already died? I shivered, covering it up by shuffling on his lap so I could see him. I couldn’t let myself think like this. 

Jason’s dark eyes studied my face. “You know, when I met you on your first day at school, I thought I was dreaming.” He stroked the side of my face. “Sometimes I think I still am.” His lips touched mine softly, how I imagined butterfly wings would feel. “I liked—really liked—you
in that instant.”

“There had better be a good reason you’re using the past tense,” I said, unable to look away from his lips.

Jason kissed me more deeply, his tongue probing my mouth, sending bouts of electricity through me. The little shocks were momentary, but as they whizzed around my bloodstream, my pain and confusion vanished. Touching helped. I needed more.

He drew back. “Is loving you a good enough reason?”

My brain screamed at me to slow down. Jason hardly knew me. Hell, I hardly knew myself anymore. How could he think he loved me? I did like Jason. I did. But love?

If I’d listened to my head, I wouldn’t have kissed him the way I did, wrapping my arms around him, pulling myself up so I straddled him. But a more powerful part of me had taken action. A combination of desire and the need to dull my emotions demanded I do it.
Closer. Secure him.
Or I would lose yet another person in my life.

I only stopped kissing to yank him to his feet and lead him to room fourteen. It was pitch black inside, but I liked it that way. The darkness heightened my senses. When I touched him, the connection to my body was more intense, making me feel more alive.

As gracefully as I could, I lifted one leg and hooked it around Jason’s hip, high enough so I could unzip and yank my boot off. I repeated the process with my other leg, while continuing to kiss him. His hands tugged hesitantly at my top. I dotted open-mouthed kisses down his neck. His confidence spiked. His yearning grew. Jason took my top off, and I greedily unbuttoned his shirt, stopping only to help him unhook my skirt.

I knew my stockings would be a problem, so I pulled them down with my skirt, stepping on them to get them off my feet. I lost balance, but Jason locked me into his embrace. Hot, wet kisses trailed down my chest, past my bra and onto my stomach. His touch was sweet and soft, but as his head continued downward, I tensed.

I dropped to my knees and connected my mouth with his. “If we’re going to do this,” I whispered, “I need to get something.” I left Jason catching his breath by my door and slipped into the bathroom.

Even with only the short distance between us, a part of me slipped away and the crazy swirl beneath my skin threatened to break out unless I hurried. I shook with the effort to keep in control. I had to get back to Jason, to touch him. Have him touch me. I searched in the cabinet under the sink and grabbed the packet of condoms, ripping the plastic off the box and fishing for one inside.

Hardly caring what I’d bump into, I waltzed back into the bedroom toward Jason, happy he’d clued me in to where he stood with a shuffle. 

I pushed him hard against the wall. The creaking of the wood excited me further.

“Don’t say anything,” I said in my most sexy voice. I pressed myself into him, wanting all my body to be against his at once.

“Won’t say a word, sweets.”

Shock delayed my reaction. I felt Attic’s hard muscles beneath his shirt, heard his pulse quickening and smelled the rich scent as it started to leak from his pores. I ripped myself away from him. “What the
hell
are you doing here?”

“I rather want to ask
you
that question.” Attic switched on the light, and I blinked in its brightness. “I Lethed him.”

“You did
what
?” My voice was quiet but lethal.

Attic walked to the bathroom, while I remained glued to the spot. “He was in danger. I sent him home.” He chucked me a dressing gown. “No need to worry, I only Lethed him a little bit. He still thinks he’s in love with you.”

I held the dressing gown in my hands, anger making it impossible to put on. “You were eavesdropping?”

“If that’s what you want to call it. But it’s pretty hard not to with hearing like ours.” He tapped his ear. “Right now, I can hear Alyse in her room, cursing at us to keep our voices down.”

“You had no right to come in here, Attic. And don’t give me that shit about him being in danger. With all you Guardians around, he’s in the safest place in town. Maybe even the state.” Not to mention, Attic’s timing was awfully suspicious.

Attic stepped closer, whipped the dressing gown from my hands and wrapped it round me. “You want the truth?” he whispered in my ear. “Then the reason I came in here was to stop you from having sex.”

My face flushed and I tightened the rope on the dressing gown.

“I heard every thought that swam through your pretty head,” he continued, “and I couldn’t let you give your virginity away for those reasons, the wrong reasons.”

I gritted my teeth. “How dare you invade my privacy, my thoughts like that—” Attic silenced me, closing my lips between his thumb and forefinger. I wanted to rip his stupid gloves off and slap him with them.

He jerked his hands away from me. I was too upset to appreciate how laced with worry his next words were. “Sleeping with him won’t solve anything, and you’ll regret it if you do it this way. Wait till you mean it.”

Says the man-slut.

Attic winced and his face clouded. “I only meant well.”

He left the room, silently shutting the door behind him. Somehow that made it worse. That small act of carefulness, the exclamation mark of his sincerity.

CHAPTER 12

I WOKE UP
curled into a fetal position at the end of the bed
.
I’d left the quilt in the movie room and the dressing gown offered little warmth. I needed to move. When I stood up, dizziness greeted me. Although tempted to curl back into a ball, I forced myself to shower. The high-pressure water hitting my back helped the throbbing in my head to disappear, but left it clear to replay the memories of the night before.

Which was worse.

The only thing that would make me feel any better was if I sorted myself out. Sure, it was understandable to be screwed up after such a shock, but even if my family couldn’t remember me . . . I swallowed.
At least they were still
alive
.

Outside, the fresh air dried my hair as I followed the track I’d taken yesterday into the woods. In my mind I repeated the request.
Attic come find me. I’m where we were yesterday.

No answer. I thought it louder, screaming out his name in my head. Still no answer. Fed up of waiting, I said it aloud.  Maybe he could only hear my thoughts if he was closer. Finally, I shouted the words. Birds flew out of the trees at the sound
. There was no way Attic couldn’t have heard. But after another five minutes of waiting, I knew he wouldn’t come. Refused to come.

Sitting on a protruding tree root, I tied up my hair. I wasn’t angry Attic hadn’t followed me, I’d been so God-damn awful it only made sense, but I still needed to say sorry. I wanted to kick myself for practically spitting in his face when he’d done a decent thing, stopping me from sleeping with Jason. He was right, I would have regretted it. All I’d wanted last night was to feel something other than numbness. Grief sex. God, I’d been so prejudic
ed assuming Attic to be shallow—

and that
after
he’d saved my life. Alyse was right to call me a fool. I’d been harsh.

I hit the tree trunk with my open palm and cried out when a splinter of wood pierced its way under my skin. Served me right.

I tried to pick it out but it was too fine and I couldn’t grasp it. Retribution was a bitch and this was nature’s way of telling me I’d messed up. What was Attic thinking right now?

Something snapped above me.

“He thinks he’ll accept your apology.”

Stunned, I looked up at Attic balancing on a branch like it was a beam. A breeze swept hair across his face, but his gaze remained on me. Finally, I found my voice. “How long have you been there?”

Attic jumped and landed noiselessly in front of me. The snapping must have been deliberate. “Before you even got here.”

I averted my gaze and studied the pine needles covering the ground. “Um
. . . Attic, I’m really sorry.”

“Heard it all in your head, little Lark.”

“It’s better if I say it aloud. I’d like you to actually hear me say it.”

Attic’s eyes twinkled for a fraction of a second. I winced as he lifted the hand with the piece of wood wedged under my skin. In a movement too quick to resist
, he covered my palm with his mouth and sucked the splinter out, spitting it to the ground.

The Vein on my back flared with heat. I let my breath out slowly.

“I have something for you.” Attic pulled out a fat folder from the bag slung over his shoulder. Gold leaves embroidered the black leather.

I swallowed. “My family’s photo albums?” My mind flashed to the missing picture of me on the hallway bookshelf.

He handed it to me. “I’m sorry, but we had to take them. We can’t have your family questioning things. It wouldn’t be good for their mental well-being.” Attic glanced at me and then back at a tree trunk. “Anyway, I thought maybe you’d want them.”

Opening the album to the middle, I scanned the pictures. Me and Jeffrey at the beach. I was fourteen, Jeffrey only six. I closed it gently. “And what happened to all my other stuff?”

“When a Guardian has Phoenixed, all their previous stuff is destroyed. It is meant to assist in the transition from your human life to your Guardian one. I took the photo albums straight after the restaurant. And managed to smuggle a few of your clothes just before they destroyed the rest of your stuff last night.”

“They?”

“There’s another family of Guardians in Foxtin. They usually deal with the furniture removal.”

I gripped the album tighter. “I’m glad I can keep something of them.”
Even if it still hurts they can keep nothing of me.

Attic looked into my eyes, then. He didn’t need to say anything, I could read the sympathy on his face. Looking at him was like tapping into special Sylva strength reser
ves. I pulled myself together—helped partly by the knowledge that all Guardians went through loss. And also because I didn’t want Attic to think me weak.

I stared into his blue eyes. Thankful. Curious. “What
is
your full name?”

The mood lightened with his cheeky grin. “First, let me show you how to greet a Guardian.”

I looked at him through my eyelashes and nodded.

Attic stepped forward, close enough I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Was mine as warm? Could he feel it? I pinched mys
elf and focused on his necklace. I didn’t have the luxury of letting my thoughts wander. They would surely be heard.

Attic chuckled and said, so low that I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it, “Wonderfully warm.”

He motioned to the album. “Can I carry it for you?”

I loosened my grip and handed it to him. He carefully slipped it into his bag, then took my right hand and spread my fingers apart. Even through his gloves, I felt the heat of his hand. A tingl
e ran up my arm. Our gazes met and held for a touch longer than normal. I shifted my focus over his shoulder.

“To greet a Guardian is a bit like a hug. The right arm goes around the other’s left and we press our open hands palm down onto each other’s Vein.”

My heart quickened as our chests touched and, wanting to speed things up, I slapped my hand between his shoulder blades. He rumbled with laughter and touched my Vein more carefully. Attic pressed his cheek against mine and I swallowed. A flood of heat streamed up my arm, tickling me. The feeling of absolute safety flowed through me. The sensation was so insanely pleasurable I wanted it to last longer.

“And my name’s Atticus Plot.” His words vibrated through me and my knees almost gave way but Attic’s hand held me firmly in place.

Atticus? Like Atticus Finch from To Kill a Mockingbird? If Maddy was right about a name adding to someone’s character, then there was so much more to learn about Attic. Maybe he too was honest, moral, and a guardian for good and hopeless causes. Sweetness filled my mouth. I jumped out of the embrace. “What was that?”

“Sorry. I
. . .” Attic ran a hand through his hair. “I should have mentioned this beforehand. When Guardians touch another’s Vein . . .” He stepped closer, taking my wrist and planting it on his Vein again. His next words rang clear, but not the way I expected. He was speaking into my head.

. . .
we can communicate with each other. Have whole conversations if we wanted. And it’s also possible to see images or feel the other person’s emotions.

I dropped my hand off him, and stepped away. “We can do that when? Only if we touch the Vein?”

“Yes.”

I swallowed, the sweetness from before still lingering on my tongue. “And what
. . . what exactly were you feeling?”

“Didn’t you like it?” he asked.

Actually, it was the best thing I’d ever tasted, and I would have liked to lap more of it. “I asked first . . .” But Attic was already smiling. Dammit. This mind reading thing was getting me into an awful lot of trouble. I didn’t even want to contemplate what other thoughts of mine he’d heard in the past few weeks. Some of them weren’t nice.

In the next second he scooped me up and threw me over his shoulder. “Actually, most of them weren’t nice, Lark.”

Before I had a chance to complain about his intrusion on my mind, wind whipped my face and all I could see were Attic’s legs and a blur of green. Scenery zoomed by faster than I was used to. The only thing I knew for sure was we were going up. And from the smell in the air, we were going up a pine tree.

My head spun, still catching up, when Attic lowered me down. Hard flat planks of wood lay beneath me. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. It was a good thing I didn’t have a phobia for heights, because I was sitting in a rotting tree house. Emphasis on rotting. One side had fallen off completely, gracing me with what would have been a fabulous view had it not been for the clouds. I turned to see Attic crouching at a small table decked with muffins—that looked like the ones I’d left uneaten in the movie room—and two bottles of sparkling water.

“You sure like breakfast, don’t you?” I said.

“Most important meal of the day.”

I shuffled over, avoiding the panels that looked like they’d turn to powder if I touched them. “What’s with the kidnapping, Attic? Or was my stomach rumbling so much you took that as consent?”

Attic grinned. “Shut up and eat.”

Not realizing until then just how hungry I was, I managed to wolf down three muffins. “Don’t judge me,” I said with my mouth full. I swallowed. “I was really hungry.”

“It’s not me you have to worry about judging, Lark.”

I reddened and looked out at the thick clouds. “Why did you bring me here?”

“It’s
going to be easier to train you if we know what your power is.”

“And how is being here going to help you figure that out?”

Attic picked a pecan off one of the muffins, flipped it into the air and caught it in his mouth. “I already sort of have an idea what it is . . . This is a test.”

I looked around
, but the tree house was very plain, and I couldn’t see where any weapons would be hidden.

“Your power isn’t with weapons. Or at least not
only
with them.”

“So what do you want me to do?” I picked up the water bottle and took a sip.

Attic’s smile faded and he looked me square in the eye. “I want you to make the clouds disappear.”

Water sprayed out my mouth as I laughed. After a minute my side hurt and I cradled it. “I actually thought you were serious for a second. God, Attic, nobody ever tell you not to make jokes around a person who’s drinking?”

Attic waited until I’d collected myself. “I
am
serious, Lark.”             

“Fine,” I said and dramatically waved at the sky. “Clouds, clouds go away, come back another day.” I faced Attic, expecting him to be laughing, but he wasn’t.

“You have to mean it.”

When I did nothing but stare at him, he shook his head and mumbled something like, “I didn’t want to play dirty, but
. . .” Then he walked to the open end of the tree house and jumped.

I screamed, scrambling to the edge. I couldn’t see him stuck on any of the branches, and the ground was too far to make out. I still hung half out of the tree house when I heard his voice behind me. I whirled around and saw him standing there, frowning.

He pulled me back from the edge. “What were you doing?”

“You jumped,” I said.

Attic’s brows straightened and realization dawned on his face. “I told you I can move very fast.”

“That was more than moving fast.” I crossed my arms.

He tucked a wild strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ll tell you more about it sometime. But first, the unpleasantries . . .”

“Unpleasantries?”

Attic tried to keep his face straight, but I saw a hint of a crease in his cheek. “I need to motivate you to move those clouds somehow,” he said. “And for the record, I don’t like playing dirty.” The crease deepened into an all-out smirk. “Well, not usually.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a scrunched up pair of underwear.
My
underwear.

“Drop those. Right. Now.”

“As soon as I see the sun shining, you can have your undies. And if I don’t feel hot rays pouring over my skin very soon, you’ll just have to continue to wear yesterday’s.” I glared at him, unsure if I should be disgusted or impressed by his ingenuity. He chuckled. “You can warm me up as much as you like with those cheeks of yours, but I’m not letting go of these pretty little things until I feel something that can give me a tan.”

I saw the red material move closer to his lips. I screamed in my head,
clouds move, now
.

Attic dropped my undies to the floor.

“That was quite a taste of your power, Lark,” Attic said, and spun me round.

As far as I could see, a fat strip of blue paved the sky, the clouds that had previously carpeted it pushed to the side like fluffy footpaths. Sunrays streamed toward us, lighting up the speckled deciduous trees in the woods like bulbs.

Thoughts whipped through my head at lightning speed. Did things change just when it took my fancy? What did this power say about who I was? Was it this power that led me to Attic after I’d Phoenixed? How was I supposed to use it? And how exactly did the sky frighten off those demons?