Taken at Dusk (Shadow Falls #3)
Page 9She could say no, but she didn't want to. She followed him. The sun hung low, but its light clung to the sky. However, once they moved into the woods and under the umbrella of the trees, the remnants of daylight faded into dusk. They walked without talking.
She remembered the dead bird and the ghost's announcement that someone else was out there. Fear brushed against Kylie's neck. Almost as if she could feel the hot breath of something evil on her nape, she reached up and tried to brush away the sensation. Everything seemed to grow darker.
"Should we be going into the woods?" She heard a rustle and looked to her left. And she walked right into Lucas's back, unaware that he'd stopped. He turned and she saw him lift up his face as if to sniff the air.
"You're scared of me?" he asked.
Even through the dimness she could see anger in his expression.
"No. I'm scared of ... other things." She didn't know what to call them.
"Scared Derek will hear you went off with me?" His tone came with accusation.
"No."
He swung back around and commenced walking again. She matched his steps. He stopped abruptly and faced her again.
"I said I'd be patient and I will, but I won't be made a fool of."
"I didn't make a fool of you," she insisted.
"You stood up for Derek."
"I just stated the facts. You were wrong to blame Derek." Her throat tightened again. She'd been fighting tears all day, and this time when they crawled up her throat, she was helpless.
She turned away, hoping to stop them before he saw. But when she reached up to swipe away the first tear, he caught her hand. How he could have moved in front of her without making a sound was unnerving.
He let go of a deep breath. "I didn't mean to upset you, it's just..."
She tried to tell him it wasn't him making her cry, but the concern in his tone had the knot in her throat doubling in size. The next thing she knew she was against his chest, her tears and almost silent sobs being absorbed by his pale blue T-shirt and his extra warm chest.
His arms were around her and she felt his cheek resting on top of her head. She felt safe. Safe and something else. She felt cherished. The way his arms held her, the way every inch of him embraced her-she wanted to stay here. Savor it.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, her face still buried against him. "I shouldn't be sliming up your shirt."
"Is it over?" His words tickled the top of her head.
"Is what over? My crying?" She wasn't ready to give up the wall of muscle or having his arms around her. Nor was she ready to let him see her all red and splotchy.
"No. You and Derek." His tone deepened, and she sensed it was hard for him to even ask the question.
"Yeah." She nodded her head against him.
His arms tightened around her. She almost sighed because it felt so good.
"Then you're welcome to slime my shirt," he said, and the undercurrent of anger vanished. "I don't have a lot of rules, but that's one of them. Only uncommitted girls can slime my shirt."
She chuckled.
"Is that a smile I feel against my chest?" His words stirred her hair.
"A slimy one." She snaked her hand up between their bodies to clear her face before looking up.
"I'll bet it's still beautiful."
He inched back, and in the dark woodsy light, she felt his eyes on her.
"You might lose the bet." She wanted to cover her face but would feel silly doing it.
"You're right, I would have lost." He laughed. "You don't cry pretty."
She thumped his solid chest with her palm. He laughed again.
"Come on." He fitted his hand in hers and started walking again, deeper into the woods. With the night sounds around them, she tuned her ears and waited for it to go silent-for something bad to suddenly appear.
She gave his hand a slight pull. "Let's go back the other way."
He turned and studied her. "What are you afraid of?"
A frown pulled at his brows. "I wouldn't let anything hurt you."
"I know, but I'd feel better if we went that way." She nodded back to the clearing.
"Fine." He began walking in that direction. "But start talking. Why are you afraid? Is it still the elderly couple?"
"No." She wished she could see the clearing of the woods ahead, but the night seemed to close in on her.
Suddenly, something dark whooshed down from a tree. She lurched back and pulled him with her. Her heart shot up in her throat. She tightened her hand in his, and with everything she had, she started to run. He ran with her, two people moving in one solid, fluid motion, his palm clutched tightly in hers.
Once they reached the clearing, Kylie stopped, bent over, and hungrily sucked oxygen into her lungs.
Finally rising, she looked at him. Out from under the thicket of the trees, night hadn't completely fallen and she could make out his features.
He stood there, watching her. He didn't gasp for air or hold his stomach the way she did. Damn it! He didn't even look winded.
Curiosity filled his eyes. "It was just an eagle."
"It was?" She looked up at the sky, which was painted with only a few lingering colors of sunset, and prayed the bird hadn't followed. Thankfully, only the first few stars of the night twinkled back at her. No eagle. At least she didn't see it.
"Did it follow us?" she asked, remembering he could see better than she could.
"No." He studied her. "Something happened, didn't it."
"Yes. Maybe. Just weird stuff." She realized she still held his hand, and while it was balmy outside, his hand felt nice. It warmed her palm in a good way, like a cup of hot chocolate, a comforting feeling. While his touch didn't hold the magic of the fae to calm one's fear, it did calm her.
"Come on." He went back to running. Fast. Then faster.
Every time she'd push herself to meet his speed, he'd increase it. Then he'd glance at her as if to make sure she wasn't having to work too hard. She got the feeling he was testing her, wanting to see just how fast she could run.
"Where are we going?" she asked, barely able to speak.
"To the creek." His voice sounded even.
His pace kept getting faster. Wanting to impress him, forgetting all about the eagle, she pushed herself to keep going. Finally, he stopped. Not prepared for the halt, she continued forward. She felt the tug on her arm where she still held his hand, and then suddenly his arm swooped around her waist.
Out of energy and off balance, she fell into him and they both went down. Not hard, or at least not for her, because she landed on top of him.
"You okay?" Her heart still pumped, her chest moving up and down as she gasped for air. As her lungs expanded again, she became aware of the intimate way her body rested against his.
He laughed. "Me okay? You're the one who can't breathe." He wrapped his arms around her. His hands rested on the small of her back.
"I can ... breathe." She laughed. Warm contentment filled her, and she realized she liked being with him. Liked being this close. Maybe too much.
She could feel every inch of his body under hers, and it made her even more breathless. She rolled off of him. The earth and grass beneath her back felt cool, especially considering how warm he had been. The sounds of the night, crickets and a few birds, sang around them. She stared through a curtain of her hair at the midnight blue sky and focused on a star flickering its brightness down from the heavens.
"I'm impressed. I didn't know you could run like that." He rolled to his side, propped up on his elbow, and brushed her hair from her face.
"Yeah." One word was all she could manage. She blinked and stared up at his face. Even in the night, she could see and appreciate the angles and lines of his features. He was so masculine. Always had been, even when he'd been seven. But now, with the light shadow of a beard, he was downright stunning.
The temptation to touch his cheek, to run the tips of her fingers over the stubble, tiptoed through her mind.
She inhaled, her lungs still thirsty for oxygen. Suddenly the sound of water trickling nearby filled her senses. "Are we...?" She raised her head and realized they'd arrived at the creek, the spot she'd brought her mother the day she'd asked about Daniel.
Sadness whispered through her when she remembered she might not see her dad again. She pushed that back and tried not to let the happiness of this moment melt away.
"We made good time." She realized how far they had run.
"How long have you known you could run like that?" he asked.
"Only since I've been here. But I'm getting faster."
He picked up a thick lock of her hair and watched it slide off his palm. His face was only a few inches from hers. She saw him tighten his brows to check out her pattern.
"It's still a mystery," she said.
He met her eyes. "You don't even suspect what you are?"
He pulled a long blade of grass from the ground and twirled it in his fingers. Then he looked over his shoulder at the moon, only half-full. "When I was a kid and lived next door to you, when I'd shift, I'd jump the fence into your backyard and watch you through your bedroom window, waiting and hoping I'd see you turn."
"You peeped into my window?"
He smiled. "It's not like you were naked or anything. You mostly wore that Little Mermaid nightshirt." A laugh spilled out of his throat. "You looked like an angel. Sometimes I would stay there half the night thinking you still might turn."
She studied his eyes. "Did you think I was a werewolf?"
"I hoped." He touched the tip of her nose with the grass. Then he slid it over her lips. It tickled and yet somehow felt seductive.
He continued staring as if remembering. "I wanted to run in the woods with you. To show you how fast I could go. To take you to my favorite watering hole so we could chase each other in the spring and play in the moonlight."
"Do you still hope I'm a werewolf?"
He hesitated. "Yeah. I probably shouldn't tell you that, but yeah, I do. It would make everything easier."
"Make what easier?" She thought about what Fredericka had said.
"Everything." He brought the blade of grass back over her lips. "I wouldn't have to be away from you when I shift. We could hunt together. You would be with me when I'm leading the pack."
The thought of hunting and killing wild animals didn't sit well with her, even being with the group of weres that included Fredericka didn't hold a lot of appeal, but she tried not to let it show.
"We'd make a great team."
"And what if I'm not a werewolf?"
He smiled, but for just a second she thought she saw disappointment in his eyes.
"We still make a good team," he said.
"Does everyone feel that way?" she asked, not wanting to mention Fredericka.
"What do you mean?"
"The last couple of times we've been together, someone from the pack sent for you as if they didn't want you with me."
"It's nothing," he said.
"You sure?"
He tickled her cheek with the grass. "Trust me."
"I do trust you."
"You haven't told me what you're afraid of."
She bit down on her lip. He swiped the blade of grass over her mouth.
"Start talking."
She told him about the eagle and the snake and then about the huge buck and the lightning.
He frowned. "Do you think Derek is doing this? He communicates with animals."
"No. Derek wouldn't do that."
"You say that like you trust him." Lucas's tone deepened.
"I do. Please don't take it the wrong way. It's over with us, but I know he wouldn't try to hurt or even scare me. He cares about me."
"And you him?" His eyes went from blue to almost orange.
"Yes. But it's still over." She could tell he didn't like hearing her say that, but he seemed to understand. For a flicker of a second, she wondered how long it would be before she could understand it herself.
He stared back up at the moon. "If it's not him, then who?"
"I think Holiday and Burnett believe Mario and Red are behind it. And they sent the impostors posing as my grandparents. But then Della said that they're vampires, not shape-shifters, so they couldn't be doing it themselves."
She knew he really didn't have the ability to keep that promise, but she liked hearing it.
Then, because it felt good talking about it, she told him about the ghost and the bird falling from the tree.
He looked concerned. "Do you think she's a death angel?" He was obviously more disturbed by the ghost than the fact that Kylie had brought a dead bird back to life.
"No, but I think she's a supernatural."
"Did you check her pattern?"
"That's part of the problem. She doesn't have one."
"Everyone has a pattern," he said.
"But she doesn't. Before she disappeared, she told me the others were out there."
"What others? Like more ghosts?" Lucas looked around.
"I don't think she meant ghosts. She made it sound like they were evil."
"And ghosts aren't evil?" he asked in disbelief.
"Not really. At least none of them that I've met."
He shook his head. "I can't imagine dealing with them."
She hesitated before answering. "It was hard in the beginning. It's still freaky, but not as bad." She met his eyes. "Besides, I can't imagine shifting into a wolf."
He smiled. "It's a piece of cake. I hope you figure that out for yourself, too."
She chewed on the fact that he really wanted her to be werewolf. No disrespect intended, but she wasn't so sure she shared his hope.
"I heard you experienced some of the mood swings last month." His gaze lowered to her breasts. "You also underwent some hormonal changes like female weres do."
Yeah, she'd grown an inch, a cup, and a shoe size-not so strange until you realized it happened overnight. Not that she really liked being reminded of it. Her face heated.
She pushed back the embarrassment. "True, but there's just as much evidence that I'm not a were. According to Holiday, weres are seldom ghost whisperers. They start turning when they're very young and they don't have the ability to dreamscape."
A light smile appeared in his eyes and, blast it, she knew exactly what he was thinking about, too. The dream. The one of them swimming, practically naked and ...
"Guess we'll have to see in a couple of weeks when the moon is full."
He ran the blade of grass over her lips again and then down past her chin.
Her breath almost caught when it glided across the swell of her breasts above the cut of the tank top. It was just a piece of grass, but it could have been his finger for the sweet sensation pouring into her chest.
He leaned down, his lips inches from hers. "I have a request."
"What's ... that?" She was barely able to think, much less speak.
He swept the blade of grass up and swirled it around her forehead. "When you close your eyes and get images flashing in your mind..."
His words reminded her of what he'd heard her say to Della about the porn movie. Her face grew hot again.
"I want that movie playing in your mind to be of us. Only us."
She felt the warmth of his mouth, then in a flash he pounced over her. He landed in a crouch, then slowly rose, a low growl rumbling from his throat as he stared out at the line of trees.
She scrambled to her feet. "What is it?"
He looked back at her. His eyes glowed that bright burnt orange color. "Someone's coming."