wanted an equal.”
I wasn’t normally a chatty Cathy. Most people who knew me would probably be checking my temp by now, I’d strung so many sentences together in a row. But Kat was riveted. I liked that.
“When the day arrived for her to choose her husband, she set forth a challenge so only the bravest and most dedicated warrior would win her hand. She asked her suitors to climb the highest rock with her.” The path narrowed and I slowed down. “They all started, but as it became more difficult, three turned back. A fourth became weary and a fifth crumpled in exhaustion. Only two remained, and the beautiful Snowbird stayed in the lead. Finally, she reached the highest point and turned to see who was the bravest and strongest of all warriors. Only one remained a few feet behind her and as she watched, he began to slip.”
Stepping around an outcropping of rocks, I waited until Kat had passed them. “Snowbird paused only for a second, thinking that this brave warrior obviously was the strongest, but he was not her equal. She could save him or she could let him slip. He was brave, but he had yet to reach the highest point like she had.”
“But he was right behind her? How could she just let him fall?” She sounded almost panicked and, yeah, cute again.
“What would you do?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Not that I would ever ask a group of men to prove their love by doing something incredibly dangerous and stupid like that, but if I ever found myself in that situation, as unlikely—”
“Kat?”
She squared her shoulders. “I would reach out and save him, of course. I couldn’t let him fall to his death.”
“But he didn’t prove himself,” I reasoned.
“That doesn’t matter.” Her gray eyes flashed like storm clouds. “He was right behind her and how beautiful could you truly be if you let a man fall to his death just because he slipped? How could you even be capable of love or worthy of it, for that matter, if you let that happen?”
I nodded slowly. “Well, Snowbird thought like you.”
A wide smile broke out across her face. “Good.”
“Snowbird decided that the warrior was her equal and with that, her decision had been made. She grabbed the man before he could fall. The chief met them and was very pleased with his daughter’s choice in mate. He granted their marriage and made the warrior his successor.”
“So is that why the rocks are called Seneca Rocks? After the Indians and Snowbird?”
“That’s what the legend says.”
“It’s a beautiful story, but I think the whole climbing several hundred feet in the air to prove your love is a little excessive.”
I chuckled. “I’d have to agree with you on that.”
“I’d hope so or you’d find yourself playing with cars on an interstate to prove your love nowadays.” Her features tensed, and then a flush raced across her cheeks.
“I don’t foresee that happening,” I said quietly.
“Can you get to where the Indians climbed from here?” she asked.
“You could get to the canyon, but that’s serious hiking. Not something I would suggest you doing by yourself.”
Kat laughed, and the sound was light and almost free. “Yeah, I don’t think you have to worry about that. I wonder why the Indians came here. Were they looking for something? It’s hard to believe that a bunch of rocks brought them here.”
“You never know.” Who knew why they came, but there had to be a reason. “People tend to look on the beliefs of the past as being primitive and unintelligent, yet we are seeing more truth in the past every day.”
She looked at me in a long, assessing way. “What was it that made the rocks important again?”
“It’s the type of rock…” I turned to her, my gaze sliding across her face and then over her shoulder. Oh shit. My eyes widened. “Kitten?”
“Would you stop calling me—?”
“Be quiet,” I whispered, gaze fixed over her shoulder as I placed my hand on her bare arm. “Promise me you won’t freak out.”
“Why would I freak out?” she whispered back.
Well, most people would freak out over a three-hundred-pound bear only several feet away, and it was a big one. Energy began building in me. I tugged Kat closer to me and her hands flew to my chest, above my heart. “Have you ever seen a bear?” I asked.
“What? There’s a bear—?” She pulled out of my grasp and spun around.
Kat stiffened against me.
The bear’s ears twitched, picking up on our breathing. I willed Kat to remain still. There was a good chance the bear would just mosey on past us. Or at least I hoped it would, because if that sucker rushed us, I was going to have to do something to scare it off.
Something that would not be easy to explain.
“Don’t run,” I told her.
She gave a jerky nod.
My hands settled on her arms again, and I don’t even think she felt it. Then, without any provocation, the bear huffed out a low growl as it rose onto its hind legs. Massive jaws opened and it roared, pawing at the air.
Oh shit.
Letting go of Kat, I stepped away from her and started waving my arms, shouting at it, but the bear dropped onto its paws, shoulders shaking and fur coat twitching. It charged right at Kat.
Cursing, I shot back toward her. She was frozen, eyes squeezed shut and face drawn and pale. I didn’t stop to think. I lifted my hand and blinding white light, tinged in red, swirled down my arm, snapping into the air. A bolt of light, very much like lightning, slammed into the ground, no more than a foot in front of Kat, startling the bear.
All of it happened so fast.
Scared, the bear reared back and shifted its heavy body, running off in the opposite direction just as the light receded. The burst of energy bounced, and I saw Kat’s legs fold and her head tip to the side. And she went down.
I snapped forward, catching her before she hit the ground and lifting her up in my arms, cradling her close to my chest as I kept my eyes on the area the bear had disappeared to. I doubted she’d passed out due to fright. She’d been too close to the Source. God only knew what the charge had done to her heart or nervous system.
“Shit shit shit,” I muttered, calming only slightly when I heard her heartbeat still pounding in her chest.
When I was sure the bear wasn’t coming back, I looked down at her. Pressure clamped down on my chest. Oh no. Dammit. No…
A faint white glow surrounded Kat, almost like an aura or like the space around her was glowing with a supernatural light humans couldn’t see. But it would be visible to any Luxen…and to any Arum.
I’d traced her.
Chapter 7
Kat seemed incredibly small and delicate in my arms, her weight so slight I pressed her closer. Oddly, her head fit perfectly against my shoulder, as if she’d placed it there and fallen asleep instead of passing out.
I couldn’t believe I’d inadvertently knocked her out.
In a twisted way, it was a blessing in disguise. Most likely I wouldn’t have to come up with some whacked-out excuse for why it seemed like lightning had shot from my fingertips and scared a bear off.
Above, dark clouds rolled in. A storm was brewing—a common consequence of too much charged power. Something to do with the electrical fields affecting the weather and blah blah blah.
But even if Kat woke up and believed the incoming storm had something to do with scaring the bear off, I’d traced her. Which was equivalent to putting a bull’s-eye on her back, especially when there might be Arum around.
Shit.
Here I was, ranting at Dee over how dangerous it was getting close to Kat, and I’m the one who was bored and coaxed her into a walk¸ who had endangered them all.
The trace should fade in a couple of days. As long as she stayed home and no one other than Dee saw her, then it shouldn’t be a problem.
I laughed drily, almost bitterly. Not going to be a problem? Dee was never going to let me hear the end of it.
&nbs
p; Heading back down the trail, I forced my gaze to stay forward instead of on what I carried, focused on the scenery. Trees—lots of trees and maple-shaped leaves, pine needles, a few shrubs…birds hopping from limb to limb, shaking out their feathers. A squirrel shimmied up the trunk of a tree.
I glanced down.
Thick lashes fanned paler-than-normal cheeks. I kind of thought she looked like Snow White. Good God, that sounded lame. Snow White? But her lips were parted perfectly, and they were rosy even without makeup.
Thunder cracked and the scent of rain rolled in. Checking to make sure she was still out like a little kitten, I picked up the pace and flew down the trail. Even as fast as I moved, the storm was unpredictable, and the skies opened up, drenching us. And still, she slept.
She reminded me of Dawson. An atomic bomb wouldn’t have woken my brother.
After reaching the porch steps, I slowed down and shook my head, sending droplets of rain flying in every direction. I stopped at the door and frowned. Had she locked it before she left? Dammit, I couldn’t remember. If so, she probably had a key in her pocket, but that would mean going into her pocket and getting it. How else would I explain how I unlocked her door?
My gaze dipped and ran over her legs. Legs unbelievably long for someone so short…and those shorts were short. Tiny pockets, too.
Yeah, I was not going after that key.
Well past time to deposit her little butt on the swing and get the hell out of here.
Sighing, I went over to the swing and started to put her down, but she snuggled closer. I froze, wondering if she was awake. A quick check told me she wasn’t. Again, I went to lay her down, but I stopped this time. What would she think if she woke up here alone?
Why did I care?
“Dammit,” I muttered.
Searching the porch frantically as if it held the answers, I finally rolled my eyes and sat, placing her beside me. It made sense that I would stay. I had to know if she had seen me shoot a lightning bolt out of my hand, I reasoned. I kept my arm around her, because knowing my luck, she’d slip out of the swing and crack her head open. Then Dee would kill me.
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes. Why had I come over here today? Was it really just boredom? If that was the case, I could’ve watched the episodes of Ghost Investigators I had DVRed. I hadn’t really considered what I was doing until I was knocking on her door and it was too late to think about it.
I was an idiot.
Kat murmured something and wiggled closer, pressing her cheek against my chest. She was molded to the entire right side of my body: thigh to thigh. Her hand curled below my hip and I started counting backward from a hundred. When I got to seventy, I found myself staring at her lips.
I really needed to stop staring at her lips.
Her brow wrinkled, lids flickering as if she was having a bad dream. Some ridiculous part of me responded to that—to the minute distress pinching her features, tensing her body. My thumb started to move along her lower back, tracing idle circles. Seconds passed, and she settled right down, her breathing deep and steady.
How long would she sleep? Part of me wasn’t bothered by the prospect of sitting here for hours. There was something calming about holding her, but it was also the exact opposite, because every inch of my body was aware of how she fit to my side, of where her hand was, the rise and fall of her chest.
This was peaceful and torturous.
Some time later, after what felt like forever and yet not enough time at all, Kat stirred awake. It was a slow process that began with her muscles tensing, relaxing, and then tensing again when she realized what…who she was lying on.
My hand stilled, but I didn’t move it away. Wasn’t like she was going to fall on her face now, but I…I just didn’t, and I wasn’t at all okay with that. I clenched my jaw.
Kat lifted her head. “What…what happened?”
Oh, you know, shot a pure bolt of energy at a bear and you wilted like a delicate flower at my feet. Then I carried you back like a true gentleman and sat here for God knows how long and just stared at you.
Yep, so not going there.
I pulled my arm free. “You passed out.”
“I did?” She scooted back, brushing a mass of hair out of her face. It was then that I realized her hair had come undone at some point. My gaze dropped briefly. As expected, her hair was long and thick, falling over her shoulders.
“I guess the bear scared you,” I told her. “I had to carry you back.”
“All the way?” She looked disappointed, which made me curious. “What…what happened to the bear?”
“The storm scared it. Lightning, I think. Are you feeling okay?”
Lightning lit the porch, startling her. “The bear was scared of a storm?”
“I guess so.”
“We got lucky, then.” She glanced down, brows knitting, and when those lashes lifted, I had to force myself to keep breathing normally. There was a quality to those gray eyes—a glimmer that sucked me right in. “It rains here like it does in Florida.”
I nudged her knee with mine. “I think you may be stuck with me for a few more minutes.” Really, that was a stupid excuse for not leaving. I needed something better—no, what I needed was to leave. Get up and leave. But then she spoke again.
“I’m sure I look like a drowned cat.”
I’d almost prefer the drowned cat. “You look fine. The wet look works for you.”
She scowled. “Now I know you’re lying.”
I was a lot of things, but until recently, a liar wasn’t one of them. And apparently, I was as unpredictable as the weather, so much so that I had no idea what I was doing until I shifted and wrapped my fingers around her chin, tilting her head toward me.
“I wouldn’t lie about what I thought,” I said, and that was the truth.
Kat blinked slowly, and my gaze dropped to her lips again. I really, really needed to stop looking at her lips. Muscles tightened at the thought of tasting them. She’d probably clock me in the face and then lay into me with that razor-sharp tongue of hers. Which made me want to grin.
I leaned forward. “I think I understand now.”
“Understand what?” she whispered.
My unwilling fascination with her—I got it. She didn’t put up with any of my crap. I was surrounded by people who looked to me to have all the answers, to protect them, to never show fear. And so I put on a big front and swaggered around like nothing frightened me. It was exhausting sometimes. But Kat, she saw right through all my bluster and kept me honest. And I liked that…a lot.
A pink flush stained her cheeks. I chased that color with my thumb. “I like to watch you blush.”
She sucked in a tiny breath, and it undid me. Pressing my forehead against hers, I pushed it to the limit. This was insanity, but she smelled of peaches and her skin was soft and her lips looked even softer.
I was caught up in a web there really was no escaping. A web of Kat… One I damn guarantee she had no idea she weaved. A naive beauty, and I’d seen a lot in my eighteen years to know that was a rarity. Something to be cherished.
Lightning struck again, and Kat didn’t jump at the thunder this time. She was focused in a way that pleased me, pulled at my control, and teased me with what I could never have. Shouldn’t even want, but I wanted… God, did I ever want. And if we continued where we were heading, it would get messy. I already knew what happened when Luxen and humans mixed. I had too much responsibility to be fooling around with her. Too much going on…
But I still wanted.
My fingers slipped along the curve of her cheek as my head tilted. I was going to regret this—holy crap was I ever, but I wasn’t stopping. Our lips were only a breath away…
“Hey, guys!” Dee called out.
I jerked back, sliding in one fluid movement and putting distance between us on the swing while Kat turned a fierce shade of red. I’d been so absorbed in her, I hadn’t heard my sister’s car or noticed the storm had passed and the
sun was out, shining and all.
Great.
Dee came up the steps, her smile fading as her gaze bounced between us and then narrowed. No doubt she was seeing the faint trace around Kat and wondering how the hell that happened. Then she