Killing Time (18 page)

I rode for hours, tears all but blinding me as I avoided the major highways and followed the smaller roads that kept me away from human populations. I was pretty sure Jack could contain Kate, that he’d hold her safe in their extreme isolation, but I didn’t want to risk that she’d track me straight to a feast beyond her wildest feral imaginings. I needed to not cause any more devastation, at least for a little while.

Around two in the morning, exhausted physically and emotionally, I had to acknowledge that I’d gone as far as I could without rest. Slowing the bike, I rode off the narrow road into dense woods, winding through the narrow space between trunks until I was well-screened from any passersby. In truth, this was just me being cautious. I hadn’t seen another vehicle since about ten o’clock.

Cutting off the Ninja’s overworked engine, I shrugged off my backpack and hurled it to the ground before getting off the bike and slumping onto a fallen log. Resting my elbows on my knees, I let my head hang and willed my mind blank—the bitter self-recriminations had driven me even harder than I’d driven my motorcycle and my emotions were raw.

After a while, the forest’s deep peacefulness and the reassuring sounds of nocturnal animals going about their unhurried business soothed me enough that I took notice of how very cold I’d become, slumped here in the dark.

Stirring my stiff muscles into motion, I dug through my backpack for the matches I’d swiped from Tanner’s lodge and quickly had a small fire going. Only then remembering the sandwich he’d made for me, I pulled it out, grimacing at its smashed appearance and not-quite-right scent. Thinking it was going bad, I tossed it into the fire and watched the bread and sliced turkey burn, resolutely not acknowledging how my stomach twisted with hunger.

I was just reaching for the last of my jelly beans when a soft voice spoke. “Sephti.”

Warmth and contentment settled into me so profoundly, it took a long moment to begin breathing again. Without a word, I shot off the log and slammed into Koda’s chest, wrapping my arms around his waist and burying my face in the crook of his neck.

He made a happy sound deep in his throat and pulled me tighter against him. “It’s so good to see you safe,” he breathed into my hair. “So very good.”

The cold midnight forest and the great, wide world outside of it receded until all that existed was the magical place within Koda’s embrace. I breathed his scent into my lungs, willed it deep into my senses and reveled in the knowledge that he clung to me just as tightly as I to him.

All too soon, reality came crashing in—I’m still not sure which of us stiffened first. But when I pulled back, embarrassed at having practically tackled him, the look in his keen eyes told me he read my discomfort and his small smile told me he understood. Like maybe whatever it was between us surprised him, too. Left him unbalanced and unsure…yet also unexpectedly exuberant and alive.

My cheeks heated under the warmth of his regard. The turmoil, pain and fear of the last few days faded away—still there, but no longer so immediate. Or relevant.

Blushing again, I returned to the log and sat, watching Koda’s unconscious grace as he walked over to join me. Sitting close enough that our shoulders and the length of our thighs touched, I was acutely aware of the heat, strength and pure masculinity of his body. A long silence followed as we each stared into the fire, nonetheless keeping one another in our peripheral vision, attuned to each other. There were so many things we ought to say,
needed
to say, but neither of us seemed able to find the words to begin.

“I hope Siska wasn’t his usual charming self,” he said at the same time I told him, “I still have your iPod.”

Again, we spoke together. “Keep it,” he said, smiling, as I answered, “Siska was very nice.”

Koda’s attention sharpened and he looked at me. “Are we talking about the same person?”

“Tall guy? Lots of hair? Good looking?”

His eyes narrowed. “You think he’s attractive?”

Watching the muscle in his jaw tighten, I wondered at Koda’s growing annoyance. “I thought you two are friends.”

“We are. Answer my question.”

“Well, sure. Anyone can see he’s handsome.”

Koda turned to face me fully. “You like him.”

“Well, sure,” I said again. “What’s not to like?”

“Indeed.” His nostrils flared and I had the impression Koda was counting to himself. “Why don’t you tell me about your new friend?”

“Siska?” I asked, growing more confused by Koda’s attitude. The rapport when he arrived in my campsite, the way he’d held me…it began to seem more and more unreal.

“Yes,
Siska!
That’s who we’re talking about.”

I sat back and stared at Koda, noting his glittering black eyes, his rigid jaw. Which was when it hit me. Could he be jealous?

A strange, new warmth made me grin, though I ducked my head to hide it. I figured he wouldn’t find my pleasure over his reaction the least bit amusing.

Still. Koda? Jealous? I thought I was reading his behavior correctly. To see if I was right, I ventured, “Siska and I fought vampires together.”

“Mmmm,” Koda muttered darkly.

I chewed my lip in remembered shame.

Seeing it, he stiffened. “What?”

Shrugging one shoulder, I scuffed a booted toe on the ground. “I…kind of lost it. While we fought. But Siska was okay about it. In fact, he was very kind.”

Koda looked at me with hooded eyes. “Anything else you’d like to share?”

I was growing more confident that I was right about the source of his ongoing annoyance. “Siska gave me jelly beans—”

“Only because I told him to.” Koda’s voice was mostly growl.

I said sweetly, “Which you were able to do because he thought to call you.”

“Which wouldn’t have been necessary if you’d stayed at the hotel!”

My amusement abruptly faded. “Which wouldn’t have been an issue if you hadn’t left.”

“You couldn’t just wait? I told you I would come back!”

“Just how long was I supposed to docilely await your return, Koda?”

“A few days. A week, maybe.” He was the first to look away. Sighing, he rubbed his jaw. “Hell, I don’t know.”

Hunching my shoulders, I rested my elbows on my knees and let the silence stretch.

Swearing under his breath, he snapped, “Look—” Shaking his head, he tried again in a softer tone. “I left things badly between us, Sephti. The all-nations meeting, the timing of it, just when we were, well…I could have handled leaving better.”

Disconsolate, I watched the fire burn. “We both have responsibilities, just like I said before. Your leaving let us get back to what we were supposed to be doing.”

He barked a humorless laugh. “Like your taking a whirlwind tour of Who Can Kill Sephti First?” Koda exhaled forcefully, looking like he was biting off the rest of what he was thinking. In a clear attempt to lighten the moment, he said, “It could’ve been worse, I guess. At least Siska didn’t kiss you.”

“Well, technically—”

Koda’s gaze was thunderous. “Sephti,” he said dangerously, “did Siska kiss you?”

“Just once.” When Koda began cursing, I hastened to add, “It was on my head, and anyway, by that point, he’d already carried me into the motel’s bathroom for a shower.” I blinked. That hadn’t come out the way I’d meant it.

Koda went still. “Shower?”

“Yeah, my clothes were a mess and I wasn’t much better,” I tried to joke.

“And where was Nic during all this?”

“She got mad at Siska and took off.”

“I can’t imagine what might have angered her.” Koda’s tone was droll. “Please. Continue. There the two of you were, all alone in the motel, Siska holding you. My
good friend
Siska.”

I threw my hands up. “What’s with you? He was helping me—”

“Sounds more like he was helping himself!”

“It wasn’t like that.” I glared at Koda. “He was genuinely trying to help me. Hell, half the time, we talked about Nic.”
And the other half, about you,
I didn’t say.

Koda rubbed his jaw, staring into the fire.

“Anyway, it’s not a big deal,” I muttered. “I don’t get why you’re so worked up.”

“Don’t you?” His eyes snapped up to mine. “Since we parted, you were badly injured. Dammit, Sephti, you might have died. But it wasn’t
me
who was there to help you.
I’m
not the one who carried you when you couldn’t walk for yourself. Who gave you a safe place to heal. Who—”

“Stop.” Putting my hand on his fist where it lay white-knuckled on his thigh, I eased his fingers open and laced ours together. “Siska and Nic would have helped anyone in need.”

Koda gave me a look.

I snorted. “I didn’t say there wouldn’t be bitching involved. But only you have genuinely cared, Koda. It’s only really mattered to you.”

He watched me, the black ice in his gaze warming, softening…becoming something that heated my blood and got my pulse speeding. Smiling gently, he leaned forward and brushed his lips across mine—a sweet caress that made my breath hitch.

Pulling back but keeping my hand in his, he said in a hoarse voice, “I’m guessing you haven’t eaten in a while.”

I blinked at the change of topic and it took a second for my brain to shift gears. Flicking a glance at the fire, I shook my head. “I burned what was meant to be my dinner.”

He looked amused as he leaned sideways to snag his duffle. I’d been too busy tackling him earlier to notice when he dropped it. “Good thing I stopped and got something for you.” He handed me a white paper bag and I grinned to see the stack of cheeseburgers inside. “They were a lot better when they were hot.”

I bit into the first one and chewed vigorously. After a quick swallow, I said, “This is great. Thank you!”

He leaned back against a tree, smiling faintly as he watched me eat. My enthusiasm seemed to please him. “I want to look at your knee when you finish.”

I rolled my eyes. It figured he’d noticed my lingering limp, slight as it was. “S’okay,” I mumbled around a bite.

“Then you won’t mind my being sure.” The gleam in his eyes told me he wouldn’t budge on this.

Stifling a grin at the thought that Koda wouldn’t be pleased to know that Siska shared a similar inclination toward first aid, I focused instead on eating.

When I’d finished, Koda knelt in front of me, rolling up my new pants to above my knee. He unwrapped the bandage, making an approving noise in his throat. “You did a good job with this.”

“I’ve had some practice,” I said in a dry voice.

He shot a dark look at me before returning to his exam. “The swelling isn’t too bad and the heavy bruising will eventually fade. What kind of mobility do you have?”

I shrugged. “Less than optimal, but good enough to fight.”

Koda went still, keeping his gaze on my knee. After a second, he murmured, “Right.” Standing, he turned his back to me, and with unnecessary force, tossed a piece of wood onto the fire. “Not black?”

Rolling down the pants leg, I frowned. It took a second, but I got it. “You mean my clothes.”

He came back and sat down, his gaze traveling over me, top to bottom. “I like this look.”

Blushing, I glanced down at myself. “Tanner’s sister put everything together.” Flustered, I muttered, “Black is so much easier.”

Koda smiled. “More friends?”

Unsure, I said, “His sister was a little distant, but Tanner seemed to like me. He asked me to come back, although that may just have been because it was his lodge and I was a paying guest.”

Something uncoiled in Koda’s black eyes. “It sounds more like you’ve made a conquest.”

Wanting a change of topic, I debated with myself whether he might misinterpret the reason for my interest. Might imagine it was a precursor to more fae torment for his people. Back and forth, I went in my head, finally just blurting out the question.

“How did the all-nations meeting go?”

My tension dissolved to see him relax back against the tree and smile easily.

Stretching out his long legs, he took my hand. “It’s a series of meetings, and last I heard, they were going well.” He glanced at me ruefully. “I was so distracted that my exasperated brother sent me packing. He said I was making everyone bad-tempered.”

I kept my voice light, like I was just curious. “Did he say why he thought you were distracted?”

“He asked. Many times and at great volume.”

Giving up all pretext that Koda’s answer didn’t really matter, I whispered, “And?”

Dropping his gaze, he said softly, “I didn’t tell him about you.”

The words fell like jagged glass shards within me. “You’re ashamed.”

Koda’s head came up. “No! Absolutely not, Sephti!” His eyes pleading, he took both my hands in his. “But if you and I can’t explain ‘us’ to ourselves, how can I to Ahanu?”

I made a nonspecific noise.

“I will tell him, with you by my side. I swear it. When I can make him understand. This…you and me…it’s too big…too…
important
not to say it right.”

Getting the English straight in my head before I dared speak, the words came out much slower than I wanted. “Anyway, it’s fine. I’m leaving in the morning. You can still get back and not have missed much—”

“Stop it, Sephti,” Koda growled. “How we’ve become with each other…you will not dismiss any of it like it doesn’t matter. Because it damn well does.”

I opened my mouth to speak but the words froze when his hands framed my face.

His voice roughened. “The way we kiss. The way we hold each other. What it was like almost losing you in Chicago. How it felt to find you safe. Don’t you
dare
lessen it.” I tried again to speak, but he shook his head. “No, dammit, I don’t want to hear your logic. We don’t make sense, the two of us. We don’t! I know it. And yet…we do, Sephti.
We really do.
”

His black eyes were fever-bright as they bored into mine. Tears spilled down my cheeks when he breathed a kiss across my forehead before pulling me into his arms.

“But I’m bittern.” I said the word with all the loathing it deserved.

“I’m not sure what you are anymore, Sephti.” Burying his face in my hair, he whispered, “Since I last saw you, the sense of you has changed.”

Startled, I looked up at him. Remembering Siska’s similar observations, I whispered, “Changed?”

“You’re becoming increasingly in harmony with what I am. With anzhenii.” Tenderly, Koda wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “It is why Owl found you on your way to Chicago. Why my friends have watched over you all along, even if you didn’t know they were there. And it’s how I’ve kept track of you, Sephti. Even without the necklace, I’m in tune to you now.”

“What do you mean, in tune?” I stammered. “And how do you know about the owl?”

His eyes were watchful, assessing my sudden anxiety. He gave me a little space without being obvious about it and I couldn’t decide if this was reassuring or even more alarming, that he saw so much.

“I mean only that I’m aware of you. Just as I’m aware of my brother’s general location, if I think about it. Nothing more, Coyote.”

Slanting a sideways look at him, I muttered, “You call me that when you think I’m nervous.”

He smiled gently. “When I think you’re feeling snared.”

I bared my sharp teeth at him in mock-threat. “If anything gets chewed off to escape a trap, the severed part won’t belong to me.”

“So fierce,” he murmured, the undercurrent of pride bringing color to my cheeks.

I stretched my booted feet toward the fire, thinking about what he’d said. I didn’t have any answers, either, but couldn’t deny how important Koda had become to me. How alive and jubilant I felt when we were together. How wretched I was when we were apart.

Knowing he was watching me, I lifted my head and smiled at him. It was tentative, fleeting. But he understood and much of the tension in his body faded away.

Clearing my throat, I changed the subject to an easier one. “How’d you get here?”

“My truck is down the road a bit, hidden near a trailhead. I walked from there.”

A comfortable silence built. Koda pulled me against his side, pressing my cheek to his shoulder, and I leaned into the embrace. Closing my eyes, I asked wistfully, “If things were different, if your people didn’t see me as their enemy, what might it have been like between us?”

Koda’s breath caught before he audibly swallowed. His voice became soft and seemed to originate deep in his chest. “One fine spring, I would attend that year’s Crane Dance, along with all the other hopeful suitors coming to see the young women. I would have eyes for no other and would spot you right away, dancing in your finery, with your grace and your strength stealing my breath. And I would worry that one of the other men would win you first.”