“So they just vanished?”
“Pretty much,” he says. “At least that’s what Alex told me. He tried to get a hold of them when we got here.”
I frown. “Why would he do that?”
He shakes his head with disdain. “Despite everything, Alex seems to think that Keepers are still trustworthy and the only kind he can seek help from.”
“When are we going to—”
“Gemma.” Alex’s voice floats through the door. “Are you in there?”
“Uh…yeah,” I call out, shifting away from Laylen, as though I’m doing something wrong. “I’m in here with—”
Laylen covers my mouth with his hand and puts a finger up to his lips, shushing me. “If he knows I’m in here, then he’ll know something’s up.”
“So what,” I whisper back, my voice muffled against his palm. “What’s he going to do?”
Laylen aims me a “really” look. “Get pissed off. Not let you go with me. Lock you in a cellar and never let you out just so no one else can touch you.” At the end his lips tug upward. “You know how he is with you.” He removes his hand from my mouth.
I frown. He’s right. If Alex finds out about this, he won’t let me go. Besides, I’m not even sure I can trust him. “Yeah, I know.”
Alex bangs on the door again. “Gemma, can you open the door?”
I feel the prickle emerge on the back of my neck, begging me to open the door and let him in; allow him to see me with Laylen and think something’s going on. I might have to, but Laylen abruptly gets up from the bed, drops down to his hands and knees and crawls underneath the bed.
I watch him with wide eyes as I scramble to my feet. “Seriously? You’re going to hide under the bed?”
“Just pretend I’m not here,” he whispers as the last of his legs vanish.
I stand there, stunned, feeling like I’m a teenager hiding my boyfriend from my parents, only I never really had that experience since I’d never had a boyfriend or parents.
Alex knocks on the door again and a breath eases out of my mouth before I walk over to open it up. The second I see him, my emotions entwine together into a very perplexing knot, even though it’s only been like an hour since I last saw him. I don’t understand why it happens, why I’m so turned onto him when he infuriates me to no end. I’m seriously starting to wonder if because of all those years trapped in an unemotional state, my body and head are now broken, unable to deal with the newfound emotions recently piled onto me.
He looks very uncomfortable for some reason, however the black mark looks like its fading. “Took you long enough.”
“I thought you were leaving,” I retaliate, leaning against the open door, aiming for nonchalant, but it comes off a little twitchier than I planned.
His eyes narrow, patronizing me. “Now why would I do that?”
“Because you said you would,” I reply simply.
He braces his hands on the doorway, invading my comfort zone and my gaze zeros in on his solid stomach muscles as his shirt rides up. “Well, you’re the one who kept insisting I was a liar. I’m just living up to my reputation, something I’m really good at.”
I try not to stare at his muscles, but thoughts of how they moved as he thrust inside me haunt my mind. I’m still not sure how I feel about ha**ng s*x, or if I feel anything other than confusion. I wonder if that’s normal.
“Did you need something?” I shake my head at the unevenness of my voice.
He elevates his brows with suspicion. “You’ve been up here forever. What have you been doing?”
I gesture at my new outfit. “Changing.”
His eyes scan down my body, warming every single inch of my skin. His eyes linger a little too long on my chest area then finally land on my eyes and I can’t tell what he’s thinking at all.
“You look good,” is all he says.
“Um… thanks, I guess,” I mutter, folding my arms over my chest.
His lips smash together as he deliberates something. Then he steps toward me, taking me by surprise as he lines his body with mine and I have no choice except to back up against the door. Fireworks of heat erupt as he pins my shoulders between his arms, his hands resting beside my head.
“Gemma, I don’t want to fight with you,” he says gently, changing his attitude in the snap of a finger. I’m beginning to understand that he’s good at doing that. “I didn’t… I didn’t work to save you only so we could sit here and argue with each other.”
His sincerity is puzzling since he’s not much of a sincere type of guy. My eyes drift to his head at the dissolving black spot, the brand of his supposed good deed.
“Did it hurt?” I ask. “When it bounced back on you?”
He rolls his tongue in his mouth, like he’s restraining a laugh. “Not too bad, but I’m good at handling pain, much more than other things.”
“What about the non-pain part of it?” With each ravening breath I take, my chest brushes against his.
He shakes his head and his forehead brushes against mine. We’re almost pressing against each other, but there’s still a sliver of space between our bodies, a boundary we need at the moment, until some sort of trust can be established.
“There was no non-pain part of it.” His voice is strained as he starts to twist the ribbon on my shirt around his finger. “It didn’t do anything other than give me a really, really bad f**king headache.”
I hate this drive toward him. The invisible pull that I still don’t understand. The overwhelming need to touch him, rip his clothes off, bite his lip, scratch his skin and feel his rock-hard body. I should be angry with him, yet I can’t seem to get to that place.
My fingertips dare to go to the place my mind is heading, drifting to the top of his jeans, then skimming underneath the fabric. I feel him tense and I tense, too. I’m about to go there and what really surprises me is how bad I want to do it, want to touch him. I can tell he wants to touch me also, his lips are dipping closer to mine as we breathe frantically. My back arches and my chest presses against his, my body and mind wanting more—needing more. I feel starved from something, but I’m having a hard time placing what.
“Jesus… Gemma...” He lets out a throaty groan and his eyes start to shut as my hand travels lower. I start rubbing him through his boxers until he becomes hard and tugs on the ribbon of my shirt to unlace the front. The curves of my br**sts become more exposed along with my bra. My other hand wanders up the front of him, resting on the top of his heart, crushed between our bodies. I can feel it pounding in his chest, racing almost as fast as mine. Our lips brush, the connection sparking, and he lets out another groan, this time louder. Suddenly, I remember that there’s a six-foot four, blue-eyed, blond haired, sexy Vampire hiding under my bed. Shit. I lean back, pulling my hands out of the top of his jeans.
“Where’s Aislin and Laylen?” I ask, breathless.
He blinks and the emotion drains from his expression. Holding my gaze, he unwinds the loosened ribbon from his finger and pushes back from the door. “Downstairs I think.”
Just like that the tension and desire melt into a puddle below our feet.
“Can I talk to Aislin?” I ask, refastening the ribbon.
He shrugs, pretending to be unbothered, but he seems uneasy. “You can do whatever you want.”
“Okay, I’ll be down in a second.” I step to the side and hold the door wide open so he’ll leave, even though I don’t want him to at all. I want to put my hands back down the front of his jeans and let him completely untie my shirt.
“Fine.” He turns his back on me and walks out. “Goddammit, why do you have to be so frustrating?” he mutters to himself, although it’s loud enough that I can hear it.
“I have no idea,” I mumble back, then quickly shut the door and whirl around to the bed. “Laylen?”
He army crawls from underneath the bed, his soft laughter making me uneasy. He stands up straight, brushing some dust off his clothes. “Fuck. That was really awkward.”
I fidget with the ribbon on my shirt. “Nothing happened.”
He laughs, rearranging his hair into place. “If you say so.”
“It didn’t,” I argue, but my cheeks heat. “I swear nothing did.”
He presses back a smile and strides for the window. “All I know is that those noises are going to haunt me for life.”
“I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I don’t even know why I did it… why I’m like that towards him.”
He smiles sadly at me from over his shoulder “Because you two have history together and a connection nothing can compete with.”
I tilt my head to the side. “We do?”
His shoulders rise and fall as he shrugs. “Kind of… you’ll have to ask him about it, though.”
I sift through my memories, knowing I’m probably not going to see anything, but trying anyway. As usual, I see blankness, then a few fading clips, however nothing important appears in my mind’s eye.
“So now what.” I change the subject.
He hesitates, staring out the window. “Well, here’s where things get tricky.”
“Get tricky?” I step up beside him and peer down at the three-story drop to a mostly vacant asphalt parking lot. “Things have been tricky for a very, very long time.”
“True, but they’re about to get trickier.” He unlatches the window, pushes it open, and sticks his head out, looking down below. “We’re not going to be able to just walk out the front door. Adessa set up these charms so if someone tries to come in or go out, she’ll know. It’s her version of a security system.”
My jaw drops as he ducks back into the window. “Oh my God. You want us to climb out the window. Are you crazy?”
“It’s the only way,” he says simply, gripping the windowsill. “All the downstairs windows have charms on them, and although I’m not sure exactly what Adessa’s charms do if they get set off, I’d really rather not find out.”