He crossed his arms over his chest. “You accused me of being a danger to you, remember? And you think I’m in a big hurry to play Good Samaritan just ’cuz you’ve had a come-to-Jesus revelation.”
“For what it’s worth,” she said dryly, “I do not think you’re Jesus.”
“And I may be in over my head as well. I’m not some magic solution to this.” He nodded to the closed door of the garage. “We’re facing shit even I haven’t seen before.”
“But you knew about the salt. And you know about other things, don’t you.” She took a deep breath. “Because you’re a member of the Black Dagger Brotherhood, aren’t you.”
Sahvage’s face froze into an absolute mask. “No. I’m not.”
“I saw the star-shaped scar on your pec. After you took your shirt off. I didn’t put it together right away, but that’s what the marking is, isn’t it.” She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t comment. “My brother used to study the Brotherhood. He told me about the scarification that every Brother has. I thought it was part of your injuries, but it’s not. And your name fits, too—”
“I’m not a member of the Brotherhood.”
“I don’t see why you can’t admit it.”
“Easy. Because it’s not true.” He shrugged. “I’m not lying to you, and besides, after that shadow attack, don’t you think I would have called in backup if I had it?”
Mae flattened her mouth. Then said, “Are you in or out with me.”
He stayed silent for a very long time, and though his eyes were on her, she had a feeling he wasn’t seeing her.
Just as she was deflating, as she had the sense that she had made too many mistakes with him, he said gruffly, “I’m in.”
“Thank God—”
“With one caveat.”
Mae narrowed her eyes and wondered how far he was going to go. “And what exactly is that.”
Are you sure we can’t pick up anything for you from where you stay?”
As Rhage made the offer to the female in the hooded robe, Nate was ready to volunteer for that trip, wherever it took him. Cross the state? Yeahsurefine. Cross the country? Yupsurething. The only trouble? He had a feeling that Elyn had no things to pick up. Or no place safe to get them from.
“No, thank you,” she said softly with that beautiful accent.
Elyn was sitting on a sofa that was so brand-new, the pillows were still in plastic—and she was as self-contained as those still-packed cushions. With her perfectly straight back, and her legs crossed at the ankles, and her hands linked in her lap, she was as proper a female as any in the glymera, her posture transforming that rough cloak into a ball gown.
Oh, and her hair wasn’t blond. In the true light, it was snow white, without any pigment at all, the long ends curling naturally as they drifted out of the hood’s confines.
“I’m really glad you’ll come stay with us at Safe Place today.” Mrs. Mary glanced at the social worker and looked back at Elyn. “And then I think Luchas House will fit your needs. We just need another twenty-four hours to get things set up and we’ll be ready for you.”
“Thank you,” Elyn said. “You have been most generous to a stranger.”
“You’re not a stranger.” Mrs. Mary shook her head. “We take care of people in the race who need help.”
“I do not know how I will pay you back.”
“You don’t have to worry about that.”
Well, Nate sure as hell would have volunteered to give his wages over. And he’d decided that one good bene about being on the sidelines of this conversation was that he had an excuse to stare at Elyn without being a creeper. The not-so-hot thing? He’d studied her expressions over the last half hour, and he knew that she was not buying into this housing plan as much as Mrs. Mary thought.
They might get one night out of her at Safe Place. Here, though? She wasn’t comfortable with that, even though she’d been assured there would be social workers and staff always around: He could tell by the way she did not meet Mrs. Mary’s eyes whenever Luchas House came up. At the moment—and tragically—Elyn was exhausted and hungry and cold. But she was going to run at nightfall tomorrow, and none of them were going to see her again.
“So let’s get going, shall we?” Mrs. Mary said as she stood up. “I’ll drive you to Safe Place—and hey, it’s cookie night.”
Rhage smiled at Elyn. “It’s always cookie night at Safe Place. Just so you know.”
The Brother escorted his mate and the social worker to the door—and as the three went out and clustered together to talk quietly on the front stoop, Nate had a feeling they were doing it on purpose, to give him and Elyn a chance to say goodbye.
“You’re going to be okay with them,” he said as he looked over at her. “I promise you.”
As Elyn’s hands twisted in her lap, he wanted to hold them. Hold her.
“I am sorry I lied to you.” Her silver eyes lifted to his. “About knowing English. But I do not know who to trust.”
“Totally forgiven.” He swept the air with his hand. “Forgotten.”
Her head turned toward the front door. “I think perhaps I must go the now.”
God, he could listen to that accent for hours. “Maybe I’ll see you again—”
“Yes, please,” she said. Before quickly adding, “But I do not want to be a burden—”
“Never!” He cleared his throat. “I mean, you know, don’t worry about that. Ever. Let me give you my cell phone number.”
He all but jumped over the sofa to get to the kitchen. And when he started to frantically pull open drawers, Rhage came back in and took a Sharpie out of the pocket of his leather jacket.
“Here,” the Brother murmured with a knowing look. “And use this to write on, it’s not perfect, but it’ll do.”
Nate took the Tootsie Pop wrapper he was offered like it was a sheet of gold and hastily scribbled his digits. On the way back to the couch, he flapped the purple waxed paper back and forth to make sure the ink dried.
Elyn got to her feet as he came over to her, and he really wanted to put his digits deep into a pocket of hers, just to make sure nothing was lost. Instead, as she took the wrapper, he removed that leaf that was still nestled in the lengths of her hair.
When she seemed startled, he flushed. “Sorry, I just . . . would you like it back?”
Dumbass. Dumbass—
Except she wasn’t looking at him.
Instead, she was focused on a mirror that had been mounted on the opposite wall, and as she stared at her reflection, she seemed haunted. Almost afraid.
Like she was in a trance, she went over and stood before the glass. With a shaking hand, she touched the hair that curled out of the hood.
“Are you all right?” he said softly.
Her eyes met his in the mirror. “No, I do not believe I am.”
Abruptly, tears trembled on her lashes. But she wiped them away and squared her shoulders.
Clearing her throat, she said, “I am very sorry I lied to you. I do not know who to trust.”
Nate nodded—and had a thought that she had no idea what she was saying, no clue that she was repeating things.
Abruptly, she turned away from herself and looked at what he’d written. As her brows pulled together, he worried that the numbers had been smudged. They hadn’t been—so he worried whether she was rethinking taking them.
At least she put the wrapper away in her robing.
As wind whistled outside, he wanted to give her his coat. But of course, he hadn’t put one on as he’d bolted out of his house.
“Good eve, Nate,” she said as she lowered herself in a brief curtsy.
Nate bowed even though he had no clue what he was doing. “Just call me. Anytime.”
Today, he thought. Maybe as soon as you get to Safe Place.
Before he could say anything else—although, really, what else was there that wouldn’t make him seem like more of a jackass—she was gone, that long, loose cape-thingy she was wearing trailing behind her as she stepped out of the house. As the door closed behind her, the smudges of mud on its hem stuck with him, and it took him a minute to figure out why: She knew what it was like to be alone and afraid.
Guess that made them soul mates.
“You okay, son?” Rhage asked.
Nate did a double take. “Oh, I thought you’d left.”
“I am now.” The Brother went over to where he’d been on an armchair. “I forgot my jacket and had to come back for it.”
There was a pause, and it was clear the older male wanted to say something. And not about the weather.
“Please don’t tell my dad . . .” Nate mumbled.
“What, that you gave a female your number for the first time?” As Nate blushed, Rhage nodded. “Not to worry. That’s your story to share, not mine. Take care of yourself, son.”
Ten minutes later, Nate was still standing in the newly kitted-out living room when the front door opened again and the guys started coming in with their overalls and their tools. As he nodded at the crew, and tried to play it cool, he had a thought that there wasn’t much else to do at the site—and what a pity that was. Considering this was an extension of Safe Place, he felt like as long as Elyn was there and he was here, a connection between them still existed.
Yeah, unlike that cell phone number, which seemed way too tenuous, and not because it was on a lollipop wrapper. She had to choose to use those numbers, and time was running out before she took off—
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
With a start, he turned to Shuli—and felt like he didn’t recognize his friend. Which was nuts because the guy was wearing the same Izod polo, cashmere sweater, and khaki shorts kind of thing that he always did. He even had a pair of Ray-Bans tucked into the V-neck—like James Spader in that old movie. Pretty in Purple? What was the title?
“Hello?” Shuli waved a hand. “Anybody in there?”
Absently, Nate’s eyes tracked the glint of the fancy watch on his buddy’s wrist. And because he didn’t want to think about anything else, and because he certainly didn’t want to talk about all the things he didn’t want to think about, he blurted out, “Why do you work here?”
“Huh—oh, why am I on the crew? My sire thinks minimum wage builds character.”
“I don’t think it’s working.”
“Ouch—but you’re probably right. I can be a prick sometimes. And on that note, why are you looking like someone punched you in the nuts?”
“I’m not. I don’t. I mean—let’s go finish the painting in the garage.”
As Nate started hoofing it, Shuli chuckled and followed along. “So that’s why you’re not rubbing one out on a regular basis. It explains a lot.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“No nuts, no erection. Problem solved.”
“Not even close,” Nate muttered.
“No, really, it’s how it works—”
“Please, for the love of God, stop talking.”
“Like, about nuts? Or anything at all?”
The glare Nate sent over his shoulder answered that one. And as they filed out into the garage, he prayed Shuli gave him two minutes to recalibrate. When the guy blessedly started opening the cans and organizing the paint brushes in silence, Nate tried to pull it together, and looked down at the leaf he’d taken out of Elyn’s hair—
Frowning, he turned it over to check the back. And then turned the thing faceup again.
When he’d first seen the maple leaf in her hair, out by where the meteor had landed, it had been dried up, brown, past its life cycle.