Stone Cold Touch

  down at the cell phone he carried in his hand. He wasn’t even watching where he was going, but people moved out of the way for him.

  Roth looked up, his gaze colliding with mine. There was a faint smudge of blue along his jaw, a sign that a Warden packed a powerful punch. I hastily looked away, cursing under my breath for the twisting motion of guilt. Two seconds later, he was sliding around me. “Good morning, ladies and gent.”

  “Hey,” Sam replied with a smile. “I’ve got to get to class. See you all at lunch?”

  I watched him turn on his heel and disappear back up the hall. So did Roth. There was a weird twist to his mouth. “Is our little Sam turning into a big boy or something?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged, turning to Stacey. “No glasses. Actually dressed today as though his mom didn’t lay his clothes out for him, and you’re staring at him as if you want to make little bespectacled babies with him.”

  Stacey’s cheeks turned bright red, but she giggled. “Maybe I am.”

  “Oh.” Roth’s eyes widened. “Dirty.”

  Other than the making-babies comment, Roth was rather subdued in class. He didn’t turn around to annoy me or lean back in his chair so that his arms rested on my table.

  It was...different.

  As always, Bambi got antsy during class and started creating an invisible map on my body. By the time class was over, I couldn’t wait to get out. The bell rang and our sub flipped on the lights.

  “Remember,” he said, running a hand over his head and clasping the back of his neck as he glanced down at his planner. “There’s a pop quiz on the schedule—”

  The muffled shriek cut him off, and he turned to the closed door. Then louder screams, shrill and horrified screams, roared from the hallway outside the classroom. As a whole, we rose to our feet, shifting nervously.

  Roth started for the door as the screams intensified.

  “What’s going on?” Stacey whispered.

  “I think we all should stay in the classroom,” Mr. Tucker said, trying to intercept Roth, but he was fast and half the class was following him. “We don’t know who’s out there! Come on. Everyone! Back in your seats.”

  It was impossible.

  There was a minor congestion at the door, and then we all spilled out into the packed hallway, Stacey clutching the back of my sweater. The hall had quieted to the point one could hear a grasshopper sneeze, and somehow that was worse than the screams.

  I pushed through the crowds, spying Roth’s back. His shoulders were unnaturally stiff. I broke through and he looked over his shoulder at me, shaking his head. My gaze drifted beyond him to the almost circular clearing amid the throng of students, an emptiness broken by two dull-gray legs slowly swaying back and forth.

  “Oh my God,” Stacey whispered.

  Dragging my gaze up, my hand rose to my chest. At first, it was as though my mind refused to recognize what it was seeing, but the image didn’t go away. It didn’t change.

  In the middle of the hallway, hanging from a light fixture with the red-and-gold school banner wrapped around his neck, was Gerald Young.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  With the police and the trauma, school closed early for the day.

  My call to Zayne woke him up, but the moment I told him what happened, he was up and out of the house. No more than twenty minutes after the officials started dismissing students, I found myself sitting in a small booth at a bakery down the street with Zayne and Roth.

  We weren’t the only people there from school. Eva and Gareth were also there. They sat at a bistro table, under a framed picture of baked bread. Gareth was hunched over a cup he held in his pale hands, his shoulders slimmer than I remembered and his hair a greasy mess.

  Gareth looked strung out to the max, but I knew better than to interfere again.

  I broke my cookie in half, but for once, there was nothing about the sugary goodness that called to me. I barely knew Gerald, having only seen him for the first time in my life yesterday, but it was like with the member of the Church of God’s Children. Seeing death was never easy, no matter the relationship or lack thereof to someone.

  “Maybe Gerald did kill himself,” Zayne said, drawing my attention to the problem at hand. “As sad as that is, maybe it’s that simple.”

  Roth toyed with the lid to his hot chocolate. For some reason the idea of a demon—the Crown Prince of Hell—drinking hot chocolate brought a wry grin to my lips. “I don’t know. Why would he do that, especially in the middle of the hallway? That’s a Hell of a way to go out.”

  “But you really didn’t know him. Neither did Layla.” The boys were actually having a civilized conversation. “You both spoke to him once.”

  “Twice actually,” I said, breaking another small chunk off my cookie. “He stopped me on the way to class today, thanking me for not telling the Wardens about him.”

  “That doesn’t sound like something someone would do before hanging himself with the school banner,” Roth pointed out as he leaned back in the booth. He threw one arm over the back. “Why be grateful Layla didn’t put his life in danger if he was about to take his own life anyway?”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  I nodded. “He mentioned the coven in Bethesda and told me to be careful.” I brushed the crumbs off my hands. “He said something along the lines of not liking the answers we’d find to our questions. It was almost as if he knew something, but was too scared to say it.”

  Roth frowned as he eyed me. “Could one of the coven members have gotten to him?” The question wasn’t really addressed to anyone in particular. “Or could it have been the Lilin?”

  “Wouldn’t you have sensed a witch running around?” Zayne asked.

  He shook his head. “They use charms to block us, just like they do with the Wardens. And we don’t know enough about the Lilin to even figure out if I’d sniff it out or not.”

  I sat back, folding my arms across my stomach against the sudden chill that moved over my skin. “It was almost like it was a message.”

  Zayne twisted toward me. Shadows had bloomed under his eyes, and I knew he hadn’t gotten much rest. “I don’t like where that thought is heading.”

  “But it makes sense,” Roth said.

  “We meet him yesterday, he tells us what he is and about where we can find more info on the Lilin, gives me a warning and then not even an hour later, he’s hanging.” I took a deep breath. “Seems like the message there is pretty clear. Back the Hell off.”

  Roth’s eyes flashed. “Not going to happen.”

  “As much as I hate to say it, the coven is the only lead we’ve got.” Zayne draped his arm behind me, and his body heat immediately expanded. His fingers coasted through the loose strands of my hair in a seemingly absent gesture. “There’s nothing on the streets. We’ve come up empty.”

  “Same on my side.” Roth’s gaze drifted to Zayne’s hand and lingered. “Any update on possible deaths related to the Lilin?”

  “Nothing out of the norm, but how do we really know?”

  A muscle began to tick in Roth’s jaw, and I looked away, focusing on my untouched cookie. There was a sudden loud thump from the other side of the bakery. When I looked up, I saw Gareth on his knees by the table he’d been sitting at. Eva was beside him, her arms wrapped around his upper arm. Two bright pink spots appeared on her cheeks as half the bakery stopped to stare at them.

  “Come on,” she said, forcing a smile on lips that were bare of any makeup. “You need to get up.”

  I cringed from the secondhand embarrassment. Eva was not a fan of mine, but watching this made me uncomfortable.

  “The kid needs an intervention,” an older man in line said loud enough that Eva heard.

  Eva’s cheeks flushed even brighter, but Gareth let out that giggle again; the kind that made my skin crawl.

  “More like a demonic intervention,” muttered Roth, eyeing the situation with visible distaste.


  Gareth rose but then stumbled again, knocking into a nearby table. Drinks spilled and people scattered. A glassy sheen filled Eva’s eyes. I couldn’t sit there any longer.

  “Move,” I said, pushing lightly on Zayne.

  He didn’t budge. “Why?”

  “This is too embarrassing to watch. Someone needs to help her.”

  Zayne stared at me a moment and then sighed. “Stay put. I’ll make sure she gets him out of here.”

  “Thank you.”

  As Zayne headed over to help her out, my gaze drifted across the table. It was impossible for it not to go there. I could feel the intensity in Roth’s stare. Our gazes locked.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked.

  The question caught me by surprise. I couldn’t remember a time when he’d asked that. “I’m okay.”

  “Seeing that this morning couldn’t have been fun.”

  Uncomfortable, I placed my hands on the table to keep from fidgeting. “It wasn’t.”

  “And the guy that died a few nights back.” A lock of black-blue hair fell across his forehead, softening his features. “How are you handling that?”

  Pressing my lips together, I didn’t answer immediately. Zayne had Gareth to the door. I hoped that wherever they needed to go wasn’t far because I doubted they’d make it without Zayne carrying him. When my gaze slid back to Roth, he was still waiting.

  “I’m really hoping you don’t blame yourself,” he said, angling his long body forward. “But knowing you, you probably do.”

  “Well, I did slap the guy with a Bible.” My stomach twisted at the reminder. “I’m sure the situation could’ve been handled better.”

  “But you didn’t pull the trigger. You also didn’t kill the guy.” His voice dropped. “I did.”

  “But I—”

  His hands curled around mine, startling me. “Don’t put that shit on your head. You have enough to worry about.”

  Part of the frustration wiggling its way around my core was mine, but there was a hard edge that didn’t belong to me. A disturbance I couldn’t fully understand that came from deep within...Roth. The longer he had my hands, the clearer the emotions grew, like clouds parting and revealing the sun. Nipping at the heels of frustration was another emotion...similar to one I’d felt from Zayne.

  A harsh breath roared out of me and I started to pull my hands free. He didn’t let go at first but finally relented. My fingers slipped out of his, eliciting a rush of shivers up my arms.

  “What?” he asked, his stare piercing.

  I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  Roth didn’t say anything else.

  Neither did I.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon, I watched Izzy shift back and forth while Drake clutched Jasmine’s leg. She would bend down every so often, idly ruffling the toddler’s red curls while he sucked his thumb.

  Izzy was as much a natural at shifting as she was a handful. She raced around the living room at warp speed, one little wing flapping while the other drooped to the side. Several times she launched herself into the air when she neared Drake, causing him to shriek in terror.

  For the most part, I was safely tucked in the corner of the couch, hunkered down in my hoodie. The house felt like an icebox to me, but probably not to Danika, who kept intercepting Izzy just as she would fling herself at me.

  When it neared the hour before dinner, I left to head upstairs. Dinners had been awkward for weeks now and I’d rather scrounge for leftovers than sit through suspicious looks.

  I passed the kitchen, spying Morris at the island. He was chopping up veggies with the kind of knife serial killers would covet. He glanced up and his dark skin crinkled at the eyes as he smiled. He waved the knife happily.

  If it were anyone else, I would’ve been concerned. I waved back and then climbed the stairs. At the top landing, a weird shiver skated down my spine. I turned, half expecting to find someone giving me the evil eye from the floor below, but no one was there.

  I could hear the distant laugh of Izzy and the low wail of Drake, but the feeling lingered. I shivered, shoving my hands into the pockets of my hoodie as I shook my head. Recent events had made me paranoid, rightfully so.

  Turning, my attention fell to Zayne’s closed door. He’d gone to sleep when we’d gotten home from the bakery, something that was much needed. I knew he’d be rising soon to get in a workout before he sat down to eat. I crept to the door, my fist hovering for a second, but for reasons I’d probably never know, I opened it without knocking.

  He wasn’t standing in the middle of his room half-naked nor was he where he liked to be when he entered a deep sleep, which was by the large picture window. Some of the Wardens liked to perch on the rooftop, much like the gargoyle stonework adorning churches and schools. Not Zayne. He’d liked that window since I could remember.

  My gaze drifted to his large bed...and there he was. The corners of my lips tipped up. He was sprawled in the center of his bed in his human form, lying on his stomach. A sheet was wrapped around his hips and the corded muscles of his back were relaxed. One cheek rested on the curve of his elbow and he was facing the door, his lips parted. Thick lashes fanned the tips of his cheeks and those lashes had to be the envy of every mascara ad out there.

  I quietly closed the door behind me and approached the bed. In his sleep, he looked much younger than he was, at ease, and, in a way, vulnerable. No one seeing him this way would believe that he could be so dangerous or deadly when awake.

  Knowing I shouldn’t be in here, I still sat on the edge of the bed and my gaze tracked down the line of his spine. I didn’t really know why I’d come, but all I could think of was what he’d asked.

  Give us a chance.

  My heart stuttered. Could we really do this? I still wasn’t sure if trying really was the right thing, but not doing so was like turning my back on the history we shared. As my eyes soaked in all the golden flesh on display, I couldn’t help but wonder if we would’ve found ourselves in this moment even if Roth had never come into the picture.

  At the thought of him, knots twisted in my stomach, a mixture of lingering hurt, the vapid bite of confusion...and guilt. My hands curled helplessly in my lap. I hated feeling that way—hated that I was still affected by Roth and that I could feel fault in any of this. He was the one who’d pushed me away...pushed me right into the arms of Zayne.

  Which were really nice arms, I thought, staring at his biceps.

  I felt like a total creeper.

  Yeah, time to get moving. I started to get up, but a hand curled around my wrist. Gasping, I looked back down at Zayne.

  One eye was visible and a sleepy smile pulled at his lips. “Where’re you going?”

  Embarrassment swept through me. “How long have you been awake?”

  “Long enough to know you’ve been checking me out.” The lopsided smile spread. “I feel like a piece of meat.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Didn’t say I didn’t enjoy the feeling.” He rolled onto his side, and I noticed that the dark shadows under his eyes had faded. His gaze drifted over my face. “I like waking up and seeing you here.”

  A warm sensation buzzed through me like a happy little honeybee, and the feeling made me antsy. As I looked away, my hair slid over my shoulder, shielding my face.

  “What?” he asked, dropping my wrist to reach up and brush back the blond locks.

  “I don’t know.” I peeked at him, forcing my attention not to wander below his chin lest I find myself majorly distracted. “It’s just...I don’t know how to act when you’re so...open about this.”

  His fingers lingered in my hair, slipping through the strands. “Act like you’ve always acted, Layla-bug. That’s what I’ve always liked about you.”

  “The fact that I act like a dork most of the time?”

  He grinned. “Yes.”

  A laugh escaped me as I started to relax. Raising my legs, I crossed them. I watched him place the arm closest to me behind
his head.

  “I wish I would’ve been more open about it sooner,” he admitted quietly. “That I didn’t wait so long.”

  I wished he had, too, because maybe things wouldn’t be so confusing and complicated now.

  “Better late than never, right?” When I nodded, he slid his fingers down my arm. Even through the hoodie, I could feel his