Chapter Nineteen #2
“Take a word of advice.” Her lips brush the shell of my ear. I suppress a shudder of discomfort and, horribly, a bit of pleasure. “The storm’s coming, and it’s a big one. Don’t get caught in the eye.”
I finish the last sip of my beer and, by the time I turn around, she’s gone. So are the other patrons. The tavern is empty, eerily so. Outside, the wind picks up.
The storm. The Reckoning. I flee the tavern, my braids whipping my cheeks as soon as I step outside.
Like before, a hopelessness strikes my chest, as if the wind pelts me with the weight of my guilt and grief.
I sprint up the stairs of the motel, trying to push my way past the torrential gales to get to our room.
Loose sediment slices through the air, stabbing me like tiny knives.
I reach the door but have to close my eyes, fumbling blindly to fit the key into the lock.
The door swings inward despite my stilted progress and I stumble over the threshold. Luke catches me before I hit the carpet, pulling me the rest of the way in and kicking the door closed.
“What is wrong with you?” he asks harshly. I flinch, twisting out of his grip to stand properly. “Why did you leave the room? What were you thinking? No, don’t answer that. You weren’t thinking. I woke up and you were gone.”
I stare at him, unsure what question to answer first. I’ve never heard him spew so many at once. From the way he stares back, eyes wide and worried and illuminated by bursts of lightning, I’m not sure he wants the answers to them anyway.
I finally find my voice. “I’m sorry I left. I went back to the tavern for a drink—”
His expression darkens. “You went back to the tavern?”
“Yes, I went back to the tavern,” I snap. I will not be the woman I used to be, who cowered in the face of disapproval. “And I’ll have you know I had a very insightful conversation with Tatianna.”
All the color drains from his face.
“Found out some pretty interesting things about you.” Just to piss him off, I expose my neck and add, “I offered for her to take a sip.”
It doesn’t have its intended effect. Instead of goading him on, panic fills his face. Before I can blink his fingers are running up and down the length of my neck, leaving a stream of goose bumps in their wake. “Tell me she didn’t bite you. Tell me her teeth didn’t even graze you. Tell me—”
“She didn’t! I’m okay,” I reassure him. His hands stall where my jaw meets my throat, fingers splaying against it as his thumbs press into my cheeks. There’s a wildness in his eyes. He’s frightened.
My own hands come up to mimic the placement on his face so he has no choice but to see the truth in my eyes. “I’m okay. She didn’t bite me. I just said that to…” Get a reaction out of you. But why should I even want one from him? “I don’t know. I don’t know why I said it.”
We stand still, his gaze boring into me in a way that makes my legs tremble.
I know he can feel the thrum of my pulse beneath his finger, because I can feel his.
His eyes break away from mine to race across my face, scanning every inch as if to reassure himself that my words are true.
They stall on my mouth, and it makes me realize how near we are.
All one of us would need to do is pull the other a smidge closer and our lips would brush.
Kiss me. The two words chant in my brain, like if I think them hard enough, he will.
But then I remember what Tatianna said about Luke always having an ulterior motive and I step back out of his hold.
He blinks, inhales deeply, and drops his hands. I fight every urge to tug him back to me. I liked him touching me. Holding me. I wish I’d never gotten out of the bed an hour ago.
Taking my hands in his, he flips them over. He raises my wrists up to the dim ceiling light, running his thumbs over the unmarred skin. I force myself not to shiver at his faint touch.
“It’s The Reckoning,” he murmurs, dropping my hands to run one of his own down his face.
“It can make the worst emotions heightened in the moment, like fear, anger, anxiety. I’m sorry.
I didn’t mean to be so demanding. I panicked when the storm woke me up and you weren’t here.
It’s just— Fuck. I would have never forgiven myself if she did something to you just to spite me. ”
“Sounds like it’s over now,” I mention, taking in the silence outside.
Luke nods. “We should get out of here.”
“You were barely asleep for two hours. You need more rest,” I argue as he moves about the space like his own personal tornado, an echo of the one that just took place outside.
“It’s not up for debate.”
Luke shoves my duffel into my arms, slinging his backpack over his shoulder in the next motion. He nudges me out the door and turns back to do one last scan. With a huff, he storms inside, emerging with my phone and charger in hand. He stuffs them into the pocket of his leather jacket.
We’re halfway across the parking lot when Tatianna’s voice cuts through the night.
“You’re really going to leave without saying goodbye?”
Her words are playful, but nothing about her face is. She’s flanked by the bartender and waitress. Their lips curl to reveal the glint of their fangs.
“We’ve overstayed our welcome.” Luke looks between us and the van, then back to Tatianna and her clan, as if weighing whether we’d make it out of the lot before they caught up to us.
“Come back any time. I like watching you squirm.” Tatianna grins with teeth. “And bring your newest toy. I rather enjoyed our little chat.”
With dawning horror, I realize she’s talking about me.
Luke steps toward her, fist clenched around his dagger nearly as tightly as his jaw. Tatianna’s eyes flash scarlet in the darkness. The two stand mere feet apart, gazes locked and blazing.
A long moment drags by. Luke doesn’t lower the dagger, but he doesn’t lunge at her, either.
Finally, her stance relaxes. She spits at his feet. “You weren’t worth my time back when we were lovers, and you’re not worth my time now. I’ll let Beliar deal with you.”