Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
Tempest
Exhilaration stole my breath at the sound of the big bike’s engine, its deep rumble vibrating through me as Fender rounded the corner and rolled to a stop.
He switched it off and swung slowly off the bike. “Temp,” he said with that lovely growl in his voice.
“Hey.” Was I blushing? My face was too warm. Why was I blushing?
Fender didn’t say anything more. He just stood there, waiting. For what I didn’t know. I looked around me, unsure, then back to him.
He flashed a grin. “We gonna head into your place so you can show me what you found?”
Oh…OH. “No need. I scanned and printed out the pages.” For once, I’d thought ahead. I fished them out of my bag and handed them over.
He frowned at what I’d handed him. “You should’ve just taken a pic on your phone.”
“I prefer analog,” I said as he scanned the pages.
He nodded as he zeroed in on the passages I’d highlighted. “Me too,” he muttered.
I’d only had a phone with all the bells and whistles for a few months. I’d inherited the phone Matilda W used. You could text and take calls, but that was about it. My new one could apparently do all sorts of things, and I was still getting used to it.
He glanced up. “You know where these blue cliffs are?”
“I do.” It would’ve been quicker if we’d used my door handle, leaving directly from the cottage.
There was an old cabin a couple miles from the cliffs with a still functioning door that I often used when I came to and from the area to hunt goats and boar for Manny.
It saved me carrying all that meat for miles, but using that door wasn’t possible now, not without showing Fender my magic or my other mode of transportation.
That was out of the question, highly dangerous, and utterly forbidden.
We’d have to take the long way. “It’s in Oldwood Forest, but if we ride to one of the far north entrances, we should be able to cut the hike down a bit. ”
“I’ve scouted all over those woods but have never come across these cliffs,” he said. “We gonna need to camp out?”
“We might have to. I’m rostered off for the next couple days and I’ve brought provisions just in case, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” I said, holding up my backpack.
Jack had insisted I take a day or two to rest, he was doing that with all the staff when he could spare us.
The patients weren’t letting up, and if we didn’t rest, we’d be no good to anyone.
Fender nodded, pulled out his phone, and tapped at the screen.
“Unless you have other plans? I didn’t mean to assume…”
He glanced up and smiled, and it was…breathtaking. “No other plans, peaches. Just letting War know what’s up.”
Peaches?
I blushed again.
“Hope you have some pie in that pack,” he said, still looking at his phone.
I looked down at the bag and bit my lip. I didn’t. Why hadn’t I thought of that? I had one in the freezer, but then I’d have to go back to the cottage, and what if he wanted to come as well. “I don’t have any more, well, I do, but it’s frozen, and I—I—”
“Hey, whoa. I was teasing. Whatever you have in that bag I’m gonna like, I guarantee it.”
I shoved down the stupid panic that had hit me and smiled again. This was ridiculous. This emotional roller coaster I was on constantly was exhausting. I wish I found it easier to read people.
He shoved his phone back in his pocket, grabbed something from one of the bags hanging from the side of his seat, and handed it to me. “Put this on. Felt you shivering last night.”
It was a leather jacket, soft and worn. I had been shivering, but I hadn’t cared that I was cold, I’d just wanted to keep riding. “Where did this come from?” I said, taking it.
“Used to be Brick’s when he was a pup.”
I held it up. It would still hang off me, and I was not exactly tiny. A whiff of something reached me, and I held it to my nose and sniffed. “It smells like oranges.”
“Willow gave me some of her oils to clean it up.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” I said and slid it on.
His gaze went kind of dark. “It smelled like Brick.”
“You didn’t need to go to any trouble,” I said and ran my hands over the soft leather.
“Yeah, peaches, I did.”
There was a strange note to his voice and look in his eyes, like he was trying to force his way into my brain and have a poke around.
I didn’t understand why he was looking at me like that, but then, I didn’t understand a lot of things when it came to people, or hounds for that matter.
He didn’t try to explain himself, so I pretended I wasn’t as confused as I felt. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
His gaze dipped down to the jacket I was now wearing and his nostrils flared. “Warm?”
“Toasty.”
He grinned, took my pack, put it in one of the bags hanging off the seat, and buckled it closed. “Ready to go?”
“Yep.”
He got on the bike and held out his hand. “Then let’s ride.”
Curling my hand around his, I climbed up and, like last night, he pulled my arms around his waist. The leather of his jacket was warm, and his body heat soaked right through mine.
Fender said he was my friend, and I believed him. Every time I was with him, I felt more at ease. I liked him, a lot. Maybe I was imagining it, or getting it wrong, but I was starting to think he truly liked me as well.
It was midday by the time we reached the furthermost northern entrance into Oldwood Forest. I climbed off the bike, taking in our surroundings as I unzipped my leather jacket and slid it off.
There was a chill in the air, but the late winter sun had warmth in it.
I put the jacket in my pack, since I might need it later, and was about to swing it onto my back, when Fender took it from me and slung it over his shoulder.
“How far do you think the cliffs are from here?” he asked.
“I’d say about ten, maybe twelve miles. It’s a big hike. I’m not sure I can make it the whole way today. I’m fairly fit, but this is through heavy forest and a lot of uneven terrain.”
We started walking.
“You do a lot of hiking?” Fender asked.
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Shoot. I didn’t want to give away the location of my cottage. “Um, all around.” I couldn’t tell him I knew this forest like the back of my hand and spent a good deal of time out here hunting goats and wild boar to feed Manfred. “I like the outdoors,” I said instead.
“Who do you usually hike with?”
I glanced his way. “No one.”
“You hike alone?”
“I do.”
“Not through Oldwood, though, right? Somewhere else.”
“No, I mainly hike Oldwood,” I said, ducking under a low branch.
Fender stopped abruptly beside me. “There are demons all over this forest, Tempest,” he growled. “It’s fucking dangerous out here, especially on your own.”
Crap, I’d said too much again. Yes, I knew all about the demons in this forest, and they avoided me like the plague.
Here, the Matildas were warded, like places and objects could be.
No one would cause me harm, and if they tried, they’d regret it, instantly and violently.
Our ward had been created and perfected over centuries.
My cottage, the land surrounding it, and I were protected from every demon out here. “I’m very careful,” I said.
“Tempest,” he said more forcefully. “Do not fucking hike in these woods alone.”
He seemed really worked up about this, but then he had no way of knowing I was safe. “Okay, I won’t,” I lied. No, I didn’t want to make the mother cry, but I didn’t think she’d mind my little white lie in this instance.
“Promise me.” He was growling again.
Was he angry? He was, he was really angry. I crossed my fingers behind my back to be extra cautious. “I promise.”
My promise seemed to satisfy him, and we started walking again.
We walked for a while in silence, and I kept glancing at him.
I didn’t like it when people were angry with me, not people I liked.
And okay, I didn’t have much experience with that either.
Only three people had liked me in my whole life: my mom, W, and Magnolia.
Two of those three were now dead. I couldn’t afford to lose anyone else.
I glanced over at him again. There was a scowly frown on his face.
No, I didn’t like it, not at all. It was making my stomach feel weird.
I had to do something. Magnolia confronted people all the time when she found herself in a situation she didn’t like.
I’d decided to be more like her, hadn’t I?
It was time to put my money where my mouth was.
I straightened my shoulders. “I don’t think you should be angry at me. ”
His head whipped my way.
“Not for something I’ve been doing long before we ever met. I don’t like it when people are angry, especially at me. I want you to know that.” There, I said it.
He stopped again and his eyes were softer, the amber becoming a richer, warmer shade. “Angry at you? Fuck, peaches, I’m not angry at you.”
There he went calling me peaches again, and that, I realized, I did like. “You definitely looked it, and you certainly sounded it as well.”
“Not angry, babe, just worried. The idea of you getting hurt…” His nostrils flared and he drew in a breath. “Well, that’s something that I wouldn’t like.”
He was worried about me. Okay, that was nice. “I appreciate that, but I assure you, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Right, because you just promised you wouldn’t do it anymore.”
“Right,” I said, crossing my fingers behind my back again.
Some of the tension left him after that. We carried on and he kept to an easy pace, seemingly not in any great hurry. It had started getting dark when I noticed his limp.
“Fender, stop,” I said. He did, and I noticed the strain on his face. “You’re in pain.”
“I’m fine.”