Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel) (13 page)

“I can’t believe it,” Marcus said, dropping his English Lit book so close to his soup plate that it almost tipped it over. Perhaps it hadn’t been accidental. “I think it’s the first time I’ve seen Attic without a girl hanging on his arm.”

I craned my head to see Attic walking straight toward us, not even bothering to get some soup.
Good choice, it’s disgusting.
He glanced down at my full bowl and grinned.

“I don’t like that guy,” Jason muttered under his breath and I tensed, waiting for Attic’s reaction. He’d surely heard it. His smile only widened and he slowed down as he neared us, glancing pointedly at the empty chair to my left.

Be nice, the words rang in my head. “Take a seat,” I said to him with a forced smile. Jason growled and gripped my hand tighter.

Maddy frowned over the whole exchange and threw me a look commanding me to explain my sudden generosity towards Attic the next time we were alone. Thankfully, she lifted some of the tension seething off Jason by redirecting the attention to me. “I think you should come to my house on Saturday,” Maddy said. “The limo we ordered won’t travel out as far as you live. Some weird city limits rule.”

“Sounds good,” I said and faced Jason. “Will you meet me there?”

Jason loosened the grip on my fingers and smiled brightly. “Are you asking me to go with you to Twirp?”

Oops, I’d forgotten I’d never officially asked him. “I kind of assumed it, actually. Ah, sorry. Do you want to go with me?”

Jason leaned close to me and his words tickled my ear. “I wouldn’t have allowed it any other way.” For the briefest moment I wondered what Attic was thinking, sitting next to me and hearing this. Mentally, I slapped myself. I should’ve been lost in thoughts of Jason. Attic had no right to be there. I smiled at Jason and looked at Attic out the corner of my eye. We were going to start my thought shield training tonight.

Attic stared at Jason, his nose slightly wrinkled, then his gaze passed over me as he looked away.

At six o’clock, Attic sent me to change into something I could run in. This definitely had to go on the ‘not to be’ side of my decision.

I stretched my legs, using the hood of the Porsche for support. Attic flinched when he saw it. “Lark, stop that and get over here.”

Reluctantly, I moved over to where he stood under the dodgy motel sign.

“Here are the basics,” Attic said, speaking so fast I had a hard time to follow, “when you run on the road your technique is to bounce and balance, if you hit rougher terrain keep your stride short but pick the thighs up faster. Don’t let your heel strike the ground too far ahead of your body or you’ll skid.” The sign above us creaked and I looked at it suspiciously. “And at the speeds you’ll be running at, hitting the ground or a stationary object would be like having a car wreck. You need your Angel blood to fight, not to heal. Got it?”

I gave him a quick nod, not removing my gaze from the slightly swinging ‘M’.

All my attention turned back to Attic when he snaked an arm around me and traced the outline of my Vein through my T. Why did that have to feel so god damn good?

“Feel it,” Attic said. “When you run, concentrate on your Vein, feel its power seep through you and use it to move as fast and fluid as you desire.”

My voice was croaky when I spoke. “Where am I running?”

“Anywhere. I don’t care.”

“How long for, then?”

“You’ll keep going until I say stop,” Attic said and there was no mistaking the seriousness of his tone. He meant business. “Or you pass out.” He started to jog. “Now, let’s go. You lead.”

We ran at the grassy fringe of the street for a minute, but thinking the beauty of nature would make it easier to push on, I cut off into the woods. What I hadn’t thought about was the mud, the hills, the tree roots and burrows. I met the ground with a terrific slam more than once, and each time Attic commanded me to get up and continue. Apparently, I hadn’t been moving fast enough to warrant needing rest. I’d be one large bruise by the time I got back.

Every second I wasn’t dodging, jumping, and leaping over obstacles, I cursed Attic. In my opinion he got off lightly. At least for now. But as soon as I could catch my breath, I was going to knock him out with a chain of cuss words so poignant he would think he’d been hammered with diamonds.

Attic laughed. “Channeling the anger to go faster might be a better use of your energy.” He ran beside me, not sweating or puffing, as if I were taking a stroll and not wheezing my lungs out.

He zipped behind me and I felt a wave of energy flush over me as, for the briefest second, he touched my Vein. “Feel it, Lark, and fly.”

I absorbed myself in the tingling sensation and felt my senses sharpen. The rustling of leaves and flow of the wind helped to orientate me through the thickening woods. But it didn’t hold long, and when it left I felt more drained than ever, my legs as heavy as the trunks surrounding me. I wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.

“Don’t even think about stopping, you’re no way near through.”

I gritted my teeth and tried to go faster out of the dismal hope it would shake him off. Attic laughed and it helped me keep going.

An hour deep in the woods, the ground grew soggy and moving cost more effort.

“Lift your thighs higher,” Attic said.

Frigging aye. It felt like my abdomen was ripping in two and my legs were on fire, yet that still wasn’t enough?

“No. It’s not. You need to tap into the Angel blood,” he said matter of fact. And then, as if it had irritated him, he grumbled, “And point your toes slightly outward.”

It must have had something to do with being pushed to my limits, I didn’t know why else, but I laughed at his last comment. Tears streamed down my face. Through the water I ran blind until something whacked me on the head and I blacked out.

Cold water slapped my face and I woke up in the shower, still dressed. Attic’s eyes hardened as I focused on him and he straightened out of his crouch.

“Shower, dress and meet me in my room,” he said.

“What happened?” I asked.

“You didn’t pay attention and ran into a branch,” Attic said, blunt and angry.

Jeez, I’d hurt myself, didn’t I deserve at least a touch of sympathy?

“Dammit, Lark,” Attic’s voice rose. His green hair plummeted toward me, stopping an inch away from my face. “Had that been a fight, you would be dead right now.” Water slid down his hair as if on a slide and plopped softly on my face. I studied the contours of his face. There was something more to his anger. Attic ran a hand through his hair and I gasped.

He’s concerned for me.
All the anger I’d bottled up to let loose on him fizzed away.

Attic sprung up. “You’re a Guardian. It would be such a waste of potential if you died.” He left the room, calling behind him. “Room seventeen.”

I hummed as I showered and put on fresh clothes. I couldn’t decide which top to wear, a turquoise zip top—the same shade as the hoody Attic constantly wore, or a dark blue cashmere that set off my eyes? I settled for the turquoise, and headed into the bathroom to apply some mascara. After painting one side, I paused. What was I doing? God, I was only going to see
Attic
. I finished the other side. It wasn’t as if I could leave it half done. Guess I was getting carried away about learning to shield my thoughts. Privacy was just around the corner . . .

Half an hour later, I wandered round to the other side of the motel. The veranda creaked as I walked over it, but at least it looked a fraction more trustworthy than the planks of wood in the tree house.

I raised a hand to knock on Attic’s door, but needn’t have bothered. The door opened and Alyse came out, pulling a shirt over her head. I stepped aside to let her past. Jeez, Attic was fast, it’d only been half an hour and he had wooed Blondie. Attic lay on his bed and smiled, as though amused I’d caught him in this situation. I was anything
but
. Part of me wanted to kick Attic and a bigger part of me wanted to kick Alyse. What the hell was going on with me? Unable to stop staring at him, Attic wiggled his fingers. My eyes widened and I studied his hands for the first time without their gloves. They were beautiful, creamy like moonlight with slender fingers. Why would he want to hide them?

No sooner had I thought it, Attic grabbed his gloves. “Looking much better, Lark,”
he said, leaning on the door handle.

I pushed past him,
determined to learn how to shield my thoughts quickly. His room was exactly like number fourteen. I was impressed how tidy it was and surprised at the black and white postcards that muraled the wall behind his bed. I hadn’t imagined him as the artistic type.

“Like that, huh?” Attic closed the door behind him. “I collected them from my travels.”

“You’ve traveled a bit,” I said, admiring the variety of pictures. He came up beside me, smiling as he glanced at the wall. “Where will you go next?”

Attic’s face darkened and he shrugged. “Let’s get started.” As he said it, a warm wind enveloped me.

“What was that?”

“Thought it best to sound-proof the room. I don’t want all the Guardians listening in. And you probably don’t either.”

I frowned and sat on the large leather couch. Attic dragged his desk chair and sat opposite me, like this was a therapy session.

He grinned. “Feel free to lie down if it helps.”

“No, thank you,” I said. “Let’s get down to it. How do I shield my thoughts?”

“You’re in a hurry, aren’t you?”

“Wouldn’t you be, if you’re thoughts were a smorgasbord for anyone to read when they like?”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Attic said. I imitated his smirk and he laughed. “Right, I’ll tell you what to do, but for every time you can’t maintain the shield you have to answer the question I’ve thrown to try and distract you.” 

“What type of question?” I asked, not liking the smile that lit his face.

“
Whatever
.”

I hoped that wouldn’t mean anything too personal. Though I wasn’t sure how much more he could embarrass me after stealing my undies.

“Trust me,”Attic’s brow lifted and his eyes flickered, “your undies are lame in comparison to some of the questions in my head.” His husky voice made my Vein flare. “But,” he continued, considering something, “I’ll tell you what, for every time you
can
maintain the shield in these sessions you can ask me something.”

At least that would keep the questions somewhat less obscene, because he’d be worried about the questions I’d ask him. Attic’s brow arched higher in response to my thought. “You have a deal,” I said, quickly.

“Good. Close your eyes, and concentrate on the pulse in your Vein.” I did as he told me. “It should be tingling like it does during your training.”

“It is,” I murmured.

“Right, imagine that tingle making its way up your spine . . .” Suddenly Attic’s fingers trailed a path up my back. I shivered at his touch, keeping my eyes closed. “ . . .your neck and finally to your head.” He drew a circle on my hair. “Feel it?”

I nodded. It was like a, well, a rush of blood to the head.

“You’re commanding your Angel blood to shield your thoughts when you do this.” I felt the stir of air on my cheek as he moved in front of me.