Darkside Sun (27 page)

Chapter 32

The water lapped gently at the edges of the dock as I stared at the serenity of Asher’s place. Too bad it didn’t fill me up with it, too. Nothing but forest around the edges looked back at me. One house on a private lake. Silent, save for the sweet song of birds and a symphony of early summer insects.

Were we in the Shift? Or was this real? It didn’t seem real, so it must have been the Shift. Did Izan create this place for Asher? Or had Asher built it himself? No, he didn’t seem like the handy type.

Footsteps padded up behind me. “Why are you so upset?” he asked, his voice still in that sweet, comforting tone that didn’t fit his persona. “Do your eyes mean something to you?”

I shook my head, angling my face away when he sat next to me. My chaotic mind made it hard to order my thoughts. Why was I so upset? After some soul searching, I thought I figured it out. “My whole life I thought I was a freak, a weirdo, and compared to everyone else, I was … am. My dad loved me, my grandpa, and my uncle Oliver. I had the odd friend, but none of them ever really knew me, because how could they? When I figured out you knew about the veil and the things on the other side, and that there were a whole group of people who were like me, I thought, finally … finally I have a place where I belong. Even though most of you are assholes, I was still among my kind.”

“You are among your kind.”

“Am I?” I turned back to him where his arms loosely wrapped his knees, holding his unreadable eyes with my blurry ones. “Who am I? Am I even human? I’m not a soldier or a sentinel, so what the hell am I?” A fresh tear came rolling down my face, and I launched up.

“Why are you hiding your tears from me?” He stood and grabbed my hand when I tried to march off.

I laughed, bitter and frantic. “Because that will be one more reason for you to think I’m weak. A worthless redneck plaid-lover you wish you’d never met.” I pulled against his hold, crying harder. “Let me go.”

He growled, squaring me in front of him, running his palms up and down my arms absently, eyes fluttering closed as if in pain or … something. “You’re not weak, and I don’t … why do you have to be so … so … goddammit, I’m going straight to hell if I ever die.” His lips covered mine before I even saw him coming.

I squealed into his mouth, only a small sound of surprise, before succumbing to the roughly one million volts coursing through me. It was only a soft brush of lips at first, imparting a delicious hint of coconut from his lip balm. I couldn’t move, but whatever he felt seemed to unhinge him, rip away his precious control.

Arms clamping me to his body, he slid one hand up my back and gripped my nape, holding me. He shook. His breaths came out in shuddering bursts as he deepened the contact, his lips begging mine to open. The first wet brush of his tongue stole the rest of my thought and unleashed my storm.

I screamed inside my head, not because it hurt. No, not exactly hurt, but pleasure so intense my body couldn’t decide if it was pleasure or pain. Delicious, intoxicating, robbing me of my IQ and leaving me with dark thoughts, primal needs, and a single burning focus: Asher.

We were all hands, searching, petting, exploring. I tugged up the front of his shirt and spread my fingers across his skin, delighting in the quivering of his abs under my touch, then ventured upward to his smooth, muscular chest. A deep moan rushed out of him as he abruptly stepped back, his body on fire with those scrolling tattoos I’d seen in their full glory the first time in the chamber.

He kissed me.
Oh hell, oh crap, oh hell
. He really kissed me?

“How am I supposed to fight this?” he asked, his voice as shaky as his body, but he didn’t seem to be talking to me. When he looked at me, something primeval, predatory, and fierce looked out from him, hungry and possessive. “You said it’s like gravity, but it’s worse. If you knew what I’ve imagined doing with you … the ways I want to touch you … You should be afraid of me. It’s obsession, this need to tear your clothes off and feel every inch of your bare flesh against mine, or addiction. I’m stronger than this. Being with you that way is wrong and dangerous.” It sounded like he’d been trying to convince himself of that for a while.

He wanted to tear my clothes off, too? “Or just right,” I said, not sure if I was ready to stand on my own just yet. “Why do you fight it so hard when it can feel like … that?” I gestured back and forth between us. “I can’t imagine anything more intense than that, and neither of us is bleeding from our ears. And I’ll never be afraid of you. You would never hurt me.”

“You’re wrong. And the Machine isn’t about personal wants and needs, or about pleasure. It’s about keeping the wraiths out of our world. As I told you before, relationships are a distraction, and if the Colonel finds out, he’ll wipe us both. So you need to forget I just did that so we can get back to work.” He took a shuddering breath, tearing his gaze from me and pointing it at the lake. “I’m tired of fighting this. I shouldn’t have to. It isn’t supposed to be like this.”

Anger spiked through me. “Has it occurred to you that the Misgiver created that no-touch lie to cripple your ability to kill the wraiths? Maybe he poisoned Holly and made Taka think he’d killed her. You said she bled out of her ears and mouth, and … surprise … the same thing happened to you last night, and you would have died if I hadn’t figured out how to push the poison out of you. I think he created that lie to isolate you from one another, make you all paranoid and deny yourselves the affection you clearly all need. None of you are living, only surviving, and just barely. You and I are stronger together than we are apart, and we need to share power if we’re going to win this thing. I don’t have to be a freakin’ brain surgeon to get that, so why don’t you?”

When he did nothing but glare at his shoes, I threw a few indisputable facts at him. “Marcus isn’t as good, but through him, I destroyed a wraith that I’m betting was so high up on the scale it isn’t even in the bible, and without killing the host. You said you’re tired of fighting, but so am I. So freaking tired of your bull, of being afraid and alone, of being expected to do something I don’t know how to do. I thought I was good at the whole denial thing, but you make me feel like an amateur. So, let’s talk about something that doesn’t piss me off. Do you know who poisoned you last night?”

He gave me an appraising look and turned away before I could figure out if he was interested or annoyed. “I didn’t see anything, which means nobody put anything in my drink while I had it in my hand.”

“Or maybe you just aren’t as all-seeing as you pretend to be.” It was a low blow, but I wasn’t feely particularly kind at the moment. Why had he kissed me in the first place? Wanting to touch was one thing, but kissing and thinking about tearing my clothes off? That alluded to feelings, real attraction, or he’d have just put his hands on me. My lips still tingled, buzzed, and tasted like coconut and cream. Why did he have to be so delicious? My body pulsed with Technicolor life, and that pissed me off even more.

Cursing, he strode past me and started up the stairs toward the house, but not before I caught the doubt creasing his forehead. “You’re an anomaly, Addison, and you defied everything I thought I knew about the wraiths. I’m willing to bet you didn’t need anyone to share power with you to expel that wraith, and maybe the Misgiver is conning you into destroying the rest of us with your touch issues. Without our laws, there would be chaos in the Machine. I don’t need this complication. Stay the hell away from me.”

“At least we can be pretty sure it’s either Remy, Kat, Taka, or Marcus,” I shouted after him, trying to ignore his “anomaly” comment. “Always nice talking to you.”

I waited a good long while before returning to the house with its thick beams making a resort-style canopy over the front entrance. The tantalizing smell of freshly cooked something drew me to the kitchen where a quiche sat steaming on the counter.

As I’d done that day at Dad’s, I closed my eyes and searched outward with only a trickle of power while thinking of Asher. He wasn’t anywhere nearby. He’d buggered off, but to where? Someone had tried to kill him, and he just waltzes off without me? So much for the whole never-leaving-my-sight thing. Why was it every time he let down his walls, I ended up getting my face chewed off for it?

“This sucks,” I said to the empty kitchen. He didn’t want my help, fine. If he got whacked because he was being an idiot and I wasn’t around to save him again, then that was on him.

Ignoring the sick weight in my gut, I dug into a piece of quiche, which turned out to be bacon and cheese. Asher had not made me breakfast.
Just like he didn’t keep all of your stuff instead of burning it. Just like he didn’t kiss you like he was starving and you were a Las Vegas buffet. Just like he didn’t send a dozen texts to your dad so he wouldn’t worry about you.

That little voice in my head could go lick a stump.

Mid-bite of my second helping—yeah, okay it was really good, and I was starving—a funny tingle crawled up my spine. Familiar, like a little thread tugging me toward the bedrooms. I shoveled in the last huge piece of quiche, left the plate on the counter, and followed the thread.

I moved past the bathroom. Asher’s bedroom? Nope, that tugging kept luring me forward until I came to the only door in the hallway I hadn’t been inside. I pushed against the handle, knowing what I’d find before I saw the three boxes of my mother’s things on a table in the middle of what appeared to be a well-loved library. The same library Asher had gotten the bible from while we were standing in his office in the AL, with a desk in one corner and a giant window among wall-to-wall bookshelves.

Choking on a grapefruit-sized lump in my throat, I moved to the table and began unloading all I had of my mother. Two boxes held old leather-bound volumes covering the Mayans, ancient Rome, and Pompeii, among many other fascinating histories of old and interesting cultures. Had she loved these things as much as I did? Why did she have them? Why did they call to me like home to the lost? Was that why I’d come here when I thought of home? Maybe.

When I started unloading the third box of carved trinkets, boxes, and little tablets covered in runes, Sophia stepped through the doorway. She smiled, but it seemed tentative. “Asher said you might need some help, but I feel like I’m intruding on a private moment.”

“These were my mother’s things,” I said, happy my voice didn’t crack. “I think there’s something important I’m supposed to find. I can feel it, like this little cord tugging me to them. I think I felt that even when I was a baby and crawled out to the garage where Dad had these things stored after Mom left us.” I hugged my favorite book to my chest. “Will you help look through it?”

She came in and sat down, throwing her wildly colored ponytail over her shoulder. “Sure thing. Um … hey, are you okay? You seem kind of … I don’t know … lost, or something.”

“Lost. Dazed. Confused. Take your pick.”

“I didn’t mean to pry. You know what we’re looking for?”

“No idea, and maybe I’ll feel like talking later, okay?” I sat down across from her. “Look for anything to do with the Machine, I guess.” When her gaze darted away, I remembered she hadn’t seen my eyes before now. “Did Asher tell you what happened last night?”

“Remy did, all but your eyes. Asher told me about them when he came to get me a few minutes ago.” She picked up one of the carved stone boxes and traced the runes on it with a rainbow nail.

“How am I supposed to go out in the real world like this?” I asked, my voice lifeless. “You and the others, yours can pass for normal. Beautiful, but normal. Mine … I might get away with on Halloween.”

Her gaze snapped back to mine, her face screwed up in disbelief. “What are you talking about? I’m over here feeling guilty, because I’m completely green. Why couldn’t I get cool eyes like that? Mine are just plain, boring, but yours … just … damn.”

“You like them?”I laughed, feeling a little better about them.

“I’d totally trade you if I could. Being like everyone else is overrated. You’re crazy powerful, so it only makes sense you get some cool-ass eyes to go along with it. I really wish we had all of the original bible pages so we could find out what it means, though.”

Smiling as Sophia slid the last few inches into my heart, I realized she was the best friend I’d ever had. That alone made suffering the rest of the Machine worth it, and yet another reason why I had to stop the traitor before he could hurt us all. She gave me courage, because I was more afraid of someone causing her pain than I was of the unknown task that lay ahead.

While she checked out the artifacts, I flipped open the first of the books, floating on the nice vibe that always surrounded her. If I could get her and Remy together, that vibe would be strong enough to envelop the entire Machine.

Movement in the house let me know Asher had stayed after bringing Sophia to me. Pots and plates banged out in the kitchen. He was quite the little domestic. And he’d probably be ten shades of pissed I’d left my plate on the counter. Or that he’d kissed me. Screw him. My lips weren’t tingling from that smack-job. I just had allergies or something.

Time slipped away as I flipped the familiar pages, finding nothing about the Machine. Sophia had finished poking and prodding the artifacts and picked up one of the other books. A creak in the floor behind me and a little push of power, along with a giant nostril-injection of his spicy cologne, let me know Asher had found the will to be in the room with me again.

I shifted, but didn’t turn. It was hard to concentrate on the words when the memory of his lips on mine, the sounds he made while he kissed me, his confession of wanting to strip me naked like I’d been wanting to do to him, kept invading my brain like a horn-tooting parade. I moved my finger along the text to keep me focused. When it passed over an image similar to the dagger in the chamber, a little zap traveled up my finger. I hissed, throwing the book down on the table in case it might bite me like the bible did.

“What is it?” Asher asked as Sophia came half way across the table, gaping.