11. Malachi
MALACHI
I try the door to the water tower, but it’s locked.
I take out my key and let myself in. We never used to lock the door, but too much crap went down with the Vipers and others letting themselves into our space.
One time we came back to find someone had used the fucking bed.
We don’t want people to be able to get in and destroy our place.
The familiar space soothes me immediately. It smells good in here, of herbs and candles and spices. The light is dim, but in a comforting way. The windows are small, due to the original usage of the building. Sunlight hits a patch of floor, and dust motes dance in the beam.
I toss my bag and kick off my shoes. I walk over to the bed and fall on it, lying on my back, one arm over my face as I let myself decompress.
The day has been kind of strange so far.
I can’t stop thinking about what happened with Ophelia this morning.
She’s clearly messed up emotionally, and I should absolutely not be having fantasies of fucking her.
Of touching her. Even worse, fantasies of her being with me, and us having some sort of relationship.
I’m far too fucked up to consider that, and she’s clearly in a bad way, too.
Still, it doesn’t stop me constantly thinking about it.
About her . When I’d kneeled next to her on the ground, I’d inhaled a scent that was purely her.
Clean skin and lightly coconut scented hair.
She’d smelled like a girl fresh out of the shower, and it made my mouth water.
There’s nothing sexier than smelling skin without any perfume to get in the way.
It made me want to nuzzle against the softness of her neck.
It made me want to kiss her.
For a brief, charged moment, we’d been about to kiss. I’m sure of it.
The way her hair had framed her face made it impossible not to reach out and touch it. I’d lifted my hand, my fingers shaking slightly, and tucked a lock of that pale blonde silk behind her ear.
I moan softly to myself as I recall how it felt.
Soft. So silky, it had slipped through my fingers.
As good as I had imagined, basically. My fingers had brushed against her ear when I’d tucked her hair in place, and I’d wanted to dig deeper into those thick locks and feel them fall over my hand.
I couldn’t, though. That would have been weird, and I’d have spooked her more when she was clearly already spooked.
She’d looked up at me, her pretty little bow lips slightly parted, as we’d locked gazes.
I’d searched her face, trying to figure her out, but her eyes were another mystery.
They were both a different shade of blue, one like the ocean, deep and full of secrets, and the other was paler, like glacial ice.
I wondered if the difference in color had something to do with the scar down the same side as the paler eye.
I’m sure injury can change the color of a person’s eyes, but I don’t know her well enough to ask such a personal question.
She’s a mystery, an enigma.
I’ve never met anyone like her before.
The air had grown heavy between us, and I’d wanted to move into her, so I had. Just a small lean in, and we’d been moments away from kissing. Then the shutters came down. She’d blinked and her whole demeanor changed. She’d freaked out and run away from me, again.
Her running is another thing that makes me ache for her. I like to chase pretty girls who run. Before I joined Roman and Cain in this way of life, in my past existence I was definitely into adult games of kiss chase.
My cock is hard, again. It seems to be permanently that way these days. I rub my hand over my crotch and arch up into the pressure. I’m contemplating unzipping and taking care of business when there’s a noise outside the tower. It’s the sound of footsteps snapping twigs and crunching over leaves.
I listen, hand stilled, as I try to make out the direction they’re coming from.
Is it a friend or foe? Not that many people other than us come here, and no one has ever dared to challenge us, so I’m not too concerned that it’s someone with intent to harm me.
People find us spooky and this place even more so.
They’re freaked out by the water tower, and they’re scared of the woods surrounding it.
There are all sorts of tales of ghosts at Verona Falls, and there are a few alleged spooky beings wandering these woods.
The door rattles and opens. It’s not an enemy or a ghost, but Roman. He stomps into the room, muttering something under his breath, and stops when he sees me sprawled out on the bed.
I realize belatedly that I have my palm still pressed against my cock. I clear my throat and sit up, swinging my legs off the side of the bed and planting my feet on the floor.
“What are you doing here?” he says as if this is his personal space and not somewhere the three of us have claimed.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I needed an appointment,” I bite back.
He frowns. “Of course you don’t. I just wondered why you’re here. Don’t you normally take classes on a Monday?”
Roman can be so literal sometimes, but I’m grateful for it right now as he didn’t take the bait I threw down, which might have caused an argument. He’s not wrong, I do normally have classes on Mondays. I contemplate telling him what happened, but something stops me.
I like the interaction between myself and Ophelia staying a secret. It’s like my personal thing, something only I own. I don’t want to share it with Roman or Cain. Not yet, anyway.
Roman sighs and heads to the counter where we keep the herbs and an electric kettle. He purchased it special as he loves herbal tea so much.
He fills the kettle from the faucet over the stone sink and switches it on.
This place might not be done out to the same degree of comfort as the Vipers’ mansion, but we do have the basics.
Solar panels set high on the roof give us power and allow us to have the convenience of a small refrigerator, some sockets to charge phones and the like.
A television, even. There’s a radio in one corner, and some books on the shelves.
“Want a drink?” he offers.
I shake my head. I’d much rather have a beer, but it’s a bit early for that. He paces while the kettle boils, and I watch him.
“What’s up?” I ask after he completes his third length of the counter.
He pauses and turns to me. “Nothing.”
He’s lying. I’m debating how interested I am in whatever’s eating him, and whether to try to get it out of him, when he sighs.
“It’s this girl. The one Cain knows.”
My heart flips at his words. Is he going to say he likes her?
Roman never notices girls that way.
“She’s trouble,” he says.
I can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of my mouth.
He narrows his gaze and focuses entirely on me. There’s something about Roman’s energy when it’s zoned in on you that can be intimidating. He’s got this quiet but powerful charisma, and when he puts all that on one person, it can feel heavy.
“Did I say something funny?” he demands.
“She’s a slip of a girl. She’s also clearly messed up. I don’t get how you think she can be a threat to us in any way.”
“I’m interested that you see it in such a way,” he says.
“I’d argue that she most definitely can be a threat to us.
We’ve taken a vow, to put the Preachers first. We have something important here.
We’re all trying to overcome our pasts and forge new futures for ourselves.
We don’t want to fall into the same patterns and traps our fucked up families did.
That’s why we are so focused on building our mental and emotional power and control. Right?”
I nod because, yes, that’s what we’re focused on.
“So, a girl, one from the past, could get in the way of that, don’t you agree?”
“Maybe, but not necessarily.” I’m not sure where he’s going with this, so I let him lead and try to keep my answers vague.
“She could distract Cain too much,” he continues. “Make him forget what we vowed. To be strong. Walk our own path. Not let things like status symbols, and women, and all that distract us. We are getting ready for something bigger than just college.”
I don’t say anything still, wanting him to lay it out exactly. It’s almost as though he’s talking to himself, and I just happen to be listening in.
Roman rakes his hand through his jaw-length blond hair. “I think we should warn Cain away from Ophelia. Tell him to leave her the hell alone.”
I laugh again, and the anger that flashes in his eyes is more incendiary than I’ve seen in a long while.
“What the fuck?” I ask. “We can’t tell Cain what to do. That’s up to him.”
A muscle ticks in his square jaw. “Even if it ruins everything?”
“Why would it? She’s his friend from the past, that’s all.”
“Is it all? I saw the way he looked at her.”
He did?
I raise my eyebrows, questioning. “How did he look at her?”
Roman pauses, his tongue sneaking out to wet his lower lip. “Like he wanted to eat her.”
Fuck. If Cain likes her that way, too, then it changes things.
My porno reel mind provides a new fantasy to replace the one of me chasing her down.
I mentally recreate the first time we saw her, and us chasing her through the woods.
Except I change the ending. This time, we catch her, and it’s me and Cain with Ophelia between us.
She’s shaking with a mix of fear and desire.
Holy fuck. Me, her, and Cain would be hot.
Instead of being jealous at the idea of Cain wanting to touch the girl I want, I find I like the idea, so long as I can be there, too.
Unaware of the direction my thoughts have gone, Roman continues to push his point.
“We need to get Cain to leave her alone, and we all have to avoid her,” Roman states.
His tone is so fucking superior, I want to punch him in the goddamn mouth.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Why the fuck does it sound like you’re dictating who I can and can’t speak to?”
He raises an eyebrow. “I do lead us in spiritual guidance. Lest you forget.”
I rise to my feet, and a couple of steps bring me directly in front of him. Roman might have a couple of inches of height on me, but that doesn’t mean he’s physically stronger. I know how to fight, and I’ll fight dirty, if I have to.
I jab him in the chest with a finger. “Because we let you.” Then, because I’m an asshole, I add, “ Lest you forget.”
He holds his ground and doesn’t react to me poking him.
“I’m telling you, Mal, there’s something wrong with her. She’ll mess things up between us all. I can feel it. The universe is showing me something. I want you to swear you’ll not have anything to do with her.”
My jaw works as I stare at him. “No.”
He jerks back. “What?”
“You fucking heard.”
I move to walk past him, needing some space, but he takes two quick steps and blocks me.
“Get out of my way, Roman.”
The warning in my voice should be enough to make him pause, but he doesn’t. He grabs my t-shirt, right at my throat, his fist bunching in the material, and walks us until I have my back against the wall.
What the fuck? I’m too surprised to react. We don’t fight one another. This is not like him.
His face is right up in mine, but he can’t intimidate me. His green eyes bore into mine, and I glare back, holding his gaze.
“I’ve been given a warning,” Roman growls, “and now I’m giving it to you.”
I shove him hard enough that he lets go of my t-shirt and stumbles back a few paces. His expression is one of shock, and it almost makes me laugh, except I don’t because this is no laughing matter. He’s seriously telling me I can’t talk to Ophelia again.
“Fuck you, Roman,” I spit. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
He shakes his head, as though he’s disappointed in me somehow.
“Are you really saying you care more about her than what we’re trying to build? The future we’ve discussed? We’re not here to learn college nonsense. We’re here to build our bodies, minds, and souls into powerful entities. Are you saying you’re willing to mess with that?”
It’s insane because I don’t know the girl, but he’s playing with fire because I already think I’m getting fixated on her.
“Don’t make me choose, Roman.” I shake my head. “You might not like the answer.”
Then I stalk out of the door, slamming it behind me.
Maybe he’s right, and Ophelia will destroy us. But if she does, it’s not because she’s broken or the universe told him so, but because Roman has given her far too much power in his mind. He’s worried about her affecting us, but she’s already affected him more than he realizes.