Prophecy (18 page)

He watched with intense, guarded curiosity while I resolved to tell him all the crazy things coming to my drug-addled mind. “Give me a try.”

“Have you ever woken from a dream and at first it slipped away, but parts creep back up throughout the day? It’s like that, but different, faster now.”
More real
. My pulse raced as a clear image centered in my mind. “Tony was there.” I rubbed the bruising on my arm. “He was mean. I don’t remember what we talked about or why I followed him into the woods, because I wanted to kick his ass, but you were there and you fought. I think. It was bright.”

“Bright in the woods at night?” Liam looked entertained, which worried me. He never looked like that.

A creeping sensation crawled over my skin, as if he wanted to fool me. Another, more disturbing image surfaced. A memory? It couldn’t be real. Could it?

“What else?” he prodded. “I like knowing you dream of me. Go on. Did I put Tony in his place for mistreating you?”

“Yes. I mean, I don’t know if it had anything to do with me, but you were both shirtless, hulked out, and you fought.”

“Hulked out?”

Surely they read comics in Iceland. “Like the super hero. That’s what I remember. Plus blood. Lots of blood. And green.”

“Impossible.” Liam stared into my eyes. “You can’t remember that.”

My mind itched.
I couldn’t remember it
? His words sent tingles along my skin, settling my heart rate and soothing my nerves. His voice was like a drug, confusing, intoxicating. I struggled to concentrate. The words felt right, but he was wrong. I squared my shoulders. “What do you mean I
can’t
remember?”

He ignored my question. “Tell me about your protector. He’s strong. Competitive. Tall. Is he fast? How is his temper?”

I lost a beat of time. Were we talking about Justin? My mind craved sleep, but my hardheaded heart wanted more time with Liam. “Uhm… Justin’s a bull rider. He’s fast. He has a temper if someone he cares about is attacked, but he rarely fights. He doesn’t have to. Everyone knows he’d win, plus he’s impossible to provoke. His confidence is too big. You can call him names or make accusations, but he shrugs them off and laughs like it’s your problem for not seeing how great he is.”

“Sounds pompous.”

“No. He’s confident. I envy that.”

“Does he have scars?”

I made a crazy face. “Do they not have rodeos in Antarctica? He has tons of scars.”

He ignored the Antarctica jibe. “Have you seen his scars? All of them?” His sour look made me smile. My smile soured his look further.

“I’ve seen most. A few I took his word on. He’s a tough guy.”

“Are the scars unusual? Do any of them resemble intentional cuts?” Liam motioned me toward the back of his home. The area reminded me of a greenhouse, covered in dark windows.

He pressed his hand to my back and I moved with him. “Like incisions? Yeah. He’s had a couple surgeries after some of his falls.”

Liam opened the back door and held it for me. He flipped a switch illuminating a beautiful pool. I gasped. The water twinkled under security lighting. White chairs lined one wall and everything smelled of gardenias and lavender.

“Do you like it?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me? This is fabulous. I’d never leave the house if I had this.” I kicked off my shoes and sat on the edge, dipping my feet in and tugging my pant legs up.

“Would you like to swim while we talk?” He lowered his body beside mine. For the first time since he appeared at the party, I noticed the stutter in his step. He moved slower than normal.

“Are you okay?”

“The water helps. Would you mind if I swim?”

“No.”

He stood again and moved to a swinging door near one wall. He pushed through and returned with a set of towels and a swimsuit. “This is Victoria’s, but you’re the same size, I think.”

I lifted the two pieces of material he dropped with the towels. “Whose?”

A snide smile lifted one cheek. “My mother’s.”

I eyeballed the suit again. “How can you know what size swimsuit I wear?”

“I pay attention.” He limped away, disappearing briefly behind a white door.

The still water of the Hale family pool beckoned me to slide my feet in deeper. I imagined diving in and being consumed by its depths.

“Your turn.”

I stood, taking in the sight of Liam in black board shorts. “Do you have a shirt I can wear over this?”

“It will fit.” He smiled.

I tilted my head to the side. Wearing my racer back one piece at school was one thing. Wearing a bikini, alone in his private pool at midnight was another.

Realization dawned on his exquisite face. “Ah. I sometimes forget modesty still exists. I left my shirt in there. Feel free.”

“Thanks.” I shut the swinging door and looked at the changing area. Whitewashed walls with framed pictures of pirate ships and a gilded mirror adorned the walls. I wrestled my hair into a ponytail and sat on the smooth wooden bench. The pirate ships had violent images of cannons booming and holes in the ships’ sides. A creepy choice for interior design. I stopped breathing. Somehow, in the confusion of the evening, I’d forgotten I was terrified of Hale Manor and walked right in the door and out of my clothes. I gripped the bench. So far, I’d seen nothing as horrific or evil as I’d imagined all those years. Maybe a weird picture or two. The pool looked heavenly. I put on the suit and tugged Liam’s navy T-shirt over my head, inhaling the seductive scent of him on the fabric. The hem dropped to my knees. Either he was a behemoth or I was a pixie.

“Everything okay in there?” Liam called in conjunction with the lapping of water.

I pushed open the door and stood at the pool’s edge with my clothes and phone in hand.

Liam swam to the pool’s edge where I stood. He nodded to my phone. “You should make sure Justin doesn’t alert the authorities. It’s been more than ten minutes.”

“Right.” I sent one more text to Justin. “Okay. All set.”

“Come on in.” The look in his eye stirred something in my middle, as if he’d issued a challenge.

I dove in. Under water, my hazy mind cleared. My limbs felt alive. I broke the surface rejuvenated. “Oh my goodness. I feel amazing.” I blinked salt water from my eyes.

“I’m glad.” Liam treaded water, closing the space between us slowly.

My fingertips traced the white scars on his chest. “Do you mind?” I glanced into his eyes, barely able to break focus on the luminous lines over his chest. They called to me. Whether because their shape was so familiar or because it broke my heart to think someone had carved into him this way.

“No. I don’t mind.” His breath shuddered over the words. “How do you see the runes?” His fingers encircled my wrist, stopping my hand against his skin.

“It’s the same one on the tombstones. Why’d you do this?” I flattened my palm over his heart. “Was it because your father died?” I bit my lip and shut my eyes. He hadn’t told me about his father. “I researched you online and I read about your dad. Was that the reason you moved?”

Liam released me. “You see the runes on the tombstones as well?”

“Yes.” Discussing his dad’s death, his move, and his scar were apparently off limits. I swallowed my irritation as I tallied up the things we couldn’t talk about. Fine. Maybe I could figure out what the rune meant without his help. “I grew up wandering the cemetery, collecting acorns and buckeyes. Mom took me for picnics when I was young. The kids played there in grade school. When they stopped, I kept going. It’s my quiet place. I think there and walk Chester there. I have chalk rubbings of almost all the stones.”

His eyes widened.

“The runes never come through. They’re smooth.”

Liam blinked, unspeaking.

“Did you do this to yourself?” I touched his scar lightly.

“No.”

My eyes flashed to his. I hated this option worse than any other. “Who did?”

His soft green eyes darkened. “I will answer your question on one condition.”

My heart jumped. “Okay.”

Liam lifted a palm to my cheek. Watching me closely, he slid his other hand to the back of my neck, cupping my head and bringing me closer in the warm salt water. He brushed his thumb over my lips and lifted my chin with his fingers. “Still okay?”

I nodded, hoping I wouldn’t forget how to swim or breathe.

His lips whispered against mine with feather light pressure, testing me.

The dusting of his lips ignited something inside me and worry washed away. I inclined my chin, pressing my mouth to his, savoring the electricity flowing through my veins. Liam’s lips parted. “And now?”

I draped my arms over his broad shoulders and curled my fingers into his hair. “Still fine.”

Our bodies touched from chests to thighs. Heat radiated in the spaces where our skin met and parted in the still water. His shirt suddenly felt unnecessary over my borrowed suit. Our legs slid over each other in rhythm. As much time as I spent swimming, I’d never kissed like this, alone in a pool, treading to keep my body afloat while my heart and mind soared in the atmosphere.

Liam’s chest rumbled, vibrating mine. The feral sound set me on fire. I deepened the kiss, angling myself to him, and he accepted. Our tongues slid against one another in a slow, easy dance, caressing in ways that should’ve been unfamiliar but weren’t. Liam’s kiss had power I’d never known existed. Maybe this was what people meant when they talked about passion. He released my head and supported my back and bottom instead. I stopped kicking and wrapped my legs around his waist. His lips slid down my neck, to my collarbone, and my head fell back. Every fiber of my body was one with the water, as if I’d melted under his touch.

He worked his way across my collarbone with gentle kisses. Liam kept us afloat, while I grabbed and stroked the taunt muscles of his back and arms, hungry to explore more than I should. When his lips reached mine again, he pulled away slightly. His green eyes glowed in the dim lighting.

“Callie.”

“Your eyes.” I held his face in my hands, brushing the corners of his eyelids with my thumbs.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not.” I wasn’t.

“I had to do that once before you go.”

Do what? Kiss me? If he thought he could kiss me like that just once, he was nuts.

I touched my swollen lips with my fingertips. “I’m not going anywhere. Tell me what’s wrong with your eyes.”

“You’re familiar with the statue in our cemetery?” Not what I’d expected.

“Yes.” I nodded, staring into his eyes as the glow settled into a more human shade of green “Nike. Your eyes.” I lifted a hand, gesturing to the absent glow.

“I know.” He squeezed my hand in the air between us. “In a minute. Nike. What do you know of her?”

“She’s the goddess of victory. She lives with Zeus. Not much more.”

“Correct. Nike had three siblings. Two brothers, Kratos and Zelus, and a sister, Bia. They represented strength, zeal and force in that order. Nike didn’t have children, but her siblings had relationships with many humans. Can we sit?”

Embarrassed and hyper-aware of how my body clung to his, I untangled my legs and glided to the pool’s edge. Liam handed me an enormous white towel then spent a ridiculous amount of time drying off before sitting with me poolside.

“Demigods,” I prompted, knotting my fingertips into the plush towel on my lap. Embarrassment for tying my body around his dissipated under the direction of his conversation. Never had I stopped making out to discuss anything more than why I wasn’t ready to finish what I’d started. Ironically, it was also the first time I was ready, which made no sense. At all. Except that my unseemly behavior fit like a puzzle piece into the night I’d had.

Liam nodded. “Demigods are unpredictable, especially these. Sons of Strength, Force and Zeal are what your history books call Vikings. They’re driven by primal urges. Their only goal in life is to conquer. They desire the titles of strongest, fastest, and richest. They seek competition like fuel for their souls. Many are unkind and destructive in how they go about satisfying their needs.”

I dropped my gaze to his chest. “The runes have something to do with this?”

“Runes mark the lineage.”

Heat rose in my chest, blooming over my neck and cheeks. “You.”

He stretched one long finger out, brushing it against the back of my hand. “We are charged with locating new Vikings as they emerge.” He clamped his mouth shut and scrutinized me.

He was a demigod. Shivers coursed through me until my teeth chattered. Liam pressed a folded white towel into my lap and I cradled it to my chest. “Why would you tell me this?” Something so private. Something so insane.

“I want to and I rarely get the opportunity to do what I want anymore.” He shot me a wolfish grin.

My heart thundered erratically. I dropped my gaze to refocus my thoughts. “You asked about Justin. Is he fast, strong, and quick-tempered?” Sickness coiled my tummy. “Why?”

“We were given reason to believe Justin might be one of us. We can’t know for sure. Not yet.”

“Go on.”

Liam licked his lips, clearly debating what he’d say next. The set of his jaw hardened. Determination, or perhaps, resolve, squared his shoulders. This was what I’d waited for. Whatever came next. I pulled in a long breath.

“My brothers and I are guides. Watchers. When a Viking is born, he requires guidance. We seek them out to advise them. They need facts to make the best decisions about how they will handle their true nature. We answer questions and offer them protection while they make decisions. Their choices are binding and often permanent.”

“You came here for Justin.” A tiny part of me wished he’d come for me. Clearly, I wasn’t in a good place mentally.

“We followed a tip to this place seeking the new Viking. We’re burdened with keeping the balance on Earth by reaching new members before they choose a clan. Our name, Hale, is Norse. It translates for you as hero.”

“You and Oliver?”

“Yes. My brothers and I. Oliver, Mason and others before them. The man you read about online wasn’t my father. He was simply older than us and better positioned as father than brother to the public.”