Authors: Jennifer L. Armentrout
Our mouths didn’t touch, but the rest of our bodies did. Neither of us moved. There was something primal in Aiden’s gaze, wholly possessive. I shivered—the good kind of shiver. All I could think about was how good, how right his body felt pressed against mine.
I cupped his face and then slid my fingers through his hair, amazed that the intensity of what I was feeling was stronger than any bond with Seth. Delicious sensations rolled through me as his hands tightened around my hips, and when he rocked against me, the way his hands trembled and the powerful way his body coiled completely undid me.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he whispered, his eyes searching mine. “That I should’ve told you—”
“Not right now.” Words would ruin things. They brought logic and reality into the game. I lowered my mouth to his.
A hallway light turned on outside the room.
I sprang away from Aiden as if he’d caught fire. From several feet away, I struggled to catch my breath as my eyes locked with Aiden’s. He came out of the chair, his chest rising and falling sharply. There was a second when I thought he was going to say the hell with it and pull me back into his arms, but the sound of encroaching footsteps knocked some sense into him. Closing his eyes, he tipped his head back and exhaled loudly.
Without saying a word, I spun around and left the room. I passed a sleepy, confused-looking Deacon in the hallway.
“I’m thirsty,” he said, rubbing his eyes.
Muttering something that resembled good night, I fled upstairs. Once inside the bedroom, I collapsed on the bed and stared at the vaulted ceiling.
Things just weren’t meant to happen between us. How many times had we been interrupted? It didn’t seem to matter how strong our connection was—our attraction. Something always got in the way.
Fully clothed, I rolled onto my side and curled up into a ball. I wanted to spin-kick everyone who thought me staying with Aiden was a good idea. We—I—had enough problems right now without throwing myself at Aiden.
Not that I’d really thrown myself at him this time… or the last time.
Oh hell…
I reached under my shirt and felt the scar below my ribcage. The act served as a painful reminder that my love problems—or lack thereof—were not my greatest.
CHAPTER 21
THE FIRST THING I DID WHEN I WOKE UP WAS TAKE A nice, luxurious bath in the garden tub. I stayed in that thing until my skin started to wrinkle and even then it was hard to pull myself out of it.
It was heaven in a bathroom.
After that, I went downstairs and found Deacon sprawled across a couch in the rec room. Knocking his legs aside, I sat down. He was watching
Supernatural
reruns. “Good choice,” I commented. “They’re two brothers I’d like to meet in real life.”
“True.” Deacon knocked wild curls out of his eyes. “It’s what I watch when I’m not in class or pretending to be in class.”
I grinned. “Aiden would kill you if he knew you skip class.”
He kicked up his legs and dropped them in my lap. “I know. I’ve cut back on the skipping class thing.”
He’d also cut back on the drinking thing. I glanced at him. Maybe Luke was a good influence on him. “You doing anything special for Valentine’s Day?” I asked.
His lips pursed. “Now why would you ask that, Alex? We don’t celebrate V-Day.”
“But you do. You wouldn’t have that… tree if you didn’t.”
“Are you?” he inquired, his gray eyes dancing. “I’d swear I saw Aiden at the jewelry—”
“Shut up!” I hit him across the stomach with the throw pillow. “Stop saying things like that. Nothing is going on.”
Deacon grinned, and we watched the rest of the shows he’d recorded. It wasn’t until the afternoon that I worked up the nerve to ask where Aiden was. “He was outside with the Guards the last time I checked.”
“Oh.”
Part of me was glad that Aiden was doing his babysitting outside. My cheeks caught fire just thinking about us in the chair last night.
“So you two were up pretty late,” Deacon said.
I kept my expression blank. “He was showing me the house.”
“Was that all he was showing you?”
Shocked, I laughed as I twisted toward him. “Yes! Deacon, geez.”
“What?” He sat up and swung his legs off my lap. “It was just an innocent question.”
“Whatever.” I watched him stand up. “Where are you going?”
“Over to the dorms. Luke’s still there. You’re more than welcome to come, but I doubt Aiden will let you out of this house.”
Pures and halfs could be casual friends, especially while they were in school together, and a lot of them were, although not so much since the daimon attacks at the beginning of the school year. Zarak hadn’t thrown any of his huge parties lately. But for a half to be hanging out at a pure’s house would raise questions.
“What are you two doing?” I asked.
Deacon winked as he backed out of the room. “Oh, I’m sure the same thing you and my brother were doing last night. You know, he’s going to show me around the dorm.”
Several hours later, Deacon returned and Aiden finally reappeared inside. Avoiding my gaze, he went straight upstairs. Deacon shrugged and coaxed me into making cookies with him.
When Aiden finally came downstairs he lingered in the kitchen while Deacon and I made cookies. I sort of gaped at him—dressed down in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt—so long that Deacon elbowed me in the side. Once Aiden loosened up, he joked around with his brother. Every so often our eyes would meet, and electricity danced over my skin.
After eating our weight in raw cookie dough, we all ended up in the living room, sinking into couches bigger than most people’s beds. Deacon controlled the TV for four straight hours before ambling off to bed and Aiden went outside to check in with the Guards—why, I had no idea. I roamed around the house. What had Aiden wanted to talk about before I told him to stop talking? Had he been ready to talk, like he’d hinted when I was still in the med clinic? Restless, I found myself in the MHT tree room.
I poked the bulb, smiling as it swayed back and forth. Deacon was so bizarre. Who had a Mortal Holiday Tree? So weird.
It was late, and I should’ve been in bed, but the idea of sleeping was unappealing. Full of restless energy, I drifted around the room until I came to a stop in front of the door. Curious, and with nothing else better to do, I tried the handle and found it unlocked. Glancing over my shoulder, I pushed open the door and crept inside the softly lit room. At once I realized why Aiden had kept this room off his tour.
Everything personal was crammed into the circular room. Pictures of Aiden lined the walls, chronicling his childhood. There were photos of Deacon as a precocious-looking little boy, head full of blond curls and chubby cheeks that hinted at delicate features.
I stopped in front of one of Aiden and felt my chest tighten. He must’ve been six or seven. Dark curls fell across his face instead of the looser waves he had now. He was adorable, all gray eyes and lips. There was a photo of him with Deacon. Aiden was probably around ten or so and he had one lanky arm draped over his younger brother’s shoulders. The camera had captured both boys laughing.
Moving around an overstuffed couch, I slowly picked up the titanium picture frame that was on the fireplace mantel. My breath caught.
It was his father—his mother and father.
They stood behind Deacon and Aiden, their hands on the boys’ shoulders. Behind them the sky was a brilliant blue. It was easy to tell which boy favored which parent. Their mother had hair the color of corn silk that fell past her shoulders in springy curls. She was beautiful, as all pures were, with delicate features and laughing blue eyes. It was shocking, though, how much Aiden looked like his father. From the almost-black hair and piercing silver eyes, he was an exact replica.
It didn’t seem fair that his parents were taken so young, robbed of watching their boys grow up. And Aiden and Deacon had lost so much.
I ran my thumb over the edge of the frame. Why had Aiden closed off all these memories? Did he ever come in here? Looking around the room, I spied a guitar propped beside a stack of books and comics. This was his room, I realized. A place where he thought it was okay to remember his parents and maybe to just get away.
I turned my attention back to the photo and tried to picture my mother and father. If pures and halfs had been allowed to be together, would we’ve had moments like these? Closing my eyes, I tried to picture the three of us. My mom wasn’t hard to remember now. I could see her before she turned, but my father had the mark of slavery on his forehead and no matter what I did, it wouldn’t go away.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
Startled, I spun around, clutching the frame to my chest. Aiden stood in the doorway, arms straight at his sides. He stalked across the room and stopped in front of me. Shadows hid his expression. “What are you doing?” he demanded.
“I was just curious. The door wasn’t locked.” I swallowed nervously. “I haven’t been in here long at all.”
His gaze dropped and his shoulders stiffened. He pried the picture from my fingers and set it back on the mantel. Without speaking, he bent and placed his hands over the kindling. Fire sparked and grew immediately. He grabbed a poker.
Embarrassed and stung by his sudden coldness, I backed away. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He prodded at the fire, his spine stiff.
“I’ll leave.” I turned, and suddenly he was in front of me. My heart tumbled over.
He clasped my arm. “Don’t leave.”
I searched his eyes intently, but couldn’t gain anything from them. “Okay.”
Aiden took a deep breath and let go of my arm. “Would you like something to drink?”
Hugging my elbows, I nodded. This room was his sanctuary, a silent memorial to the family he’d lost, and I’d invaded it. I doubted even Deacon dared to tread in here. Leave it to me to just bust on in.
Behind the bar, Aiden pulled two wine flutes out and sat them down. Filling the glasses, he glanced up at me. “Wine okay?”
“Yes.” My throat was dry and tight. “I really am sorry, Aiden. I shouldn’t have come in here.”
“Stop apologizing.” He came around the bar and handed me a glass.
I took the glass, hoping he didn’t notice how my fingers shook. The wine was sugary and smooth, but it didn’t settle in my stomach right.
“I didn’t mean to snap at you like that,” he said, moving toward the fire. “I was just surprised to see you in here.”
“It’s… uh, a nice room.” I felt like an idiot for saying that.
His lips tipped up at the corner.
“Aiden…”
He stared at me for so long I thought he’d never speak and when he did it was not what I expected. “After what happened to you in Gatlinburg, it reminded me of what it’d been like for me… after what happened to my parents. I had nightmares. Could hear… hear their screams over and over again for what felt like years. I never told you that. Maybe I should have. It could’ve helped you.”
I sat on the edge of the couch, clenching the fragile stem.
Aiden faced the fire, taking a sip of his wine. “Do you remember the day in the gym when you told me about your nightmares? It stuck with me—your fear of Eric and his return,” he continued. “All I kept thinking was, what if one of the daimons had escaped the attack on my parents? How would I’ve gone on?”
Eric was the only daimon to escape from Gatlinburg. I hadn’t stopped thinking about him, but to hear his name knotted up my stomach. Half of the tags on my body were thanks to him.
“I thought getting you out of there, taking you to the zoo would help get your mind off things, but I had… I had to do more. I contacted some of the Sentinels around here. I knew Eric wouldn’t have gone far, not after he knew what you were and had tasted your aether,” he said. “Based on Caleb’s and your description, it wasn’t hard to find him. He was just outside of Raleigh.”
“What?” The knots grew larger. “Raleigh is like, less than a hundred miles from here.”
He nodded. “As soon as it was confirmed that it was him, I left. Leon—Apollo—went with me.”
At first I couldn’t figure out when he could’ve done this, but then I remembered those weeks after I’d told him I loved him and he’d ended our training sessions together. Aiden had had time to do this without me ever knowing. “What happened?”
“We found him.” He smiled humorlessly before turning back to the fire. “I didn’t kill him outright. I don’t know what that says about me. By the end, I think he truly regretted ever learning of your existence.”
I didn’t know what to say. Part of me was awed by the fact he had gone to such great lengths for me. The other part was sort of horrified by it. Underneath the calm and controlled persona that Aiden wore like a second skin was something dark—a side of him I’d only glimpsed. I stared at his profile, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t been fair to Aiden. I’d set him upon this incredibly high pedestal, where he was absolutely flawless in my mind.
Aiden wasn’t flawless.
I swallowed a sip of my wine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“We really weren’t on talking terms then, and how could I’ve told you?” He laughed harshly. “It wasn’t like a normal daimon hunt. It wasn’t a precise and humane kill like we’re taught.”
The Covenant basically taught us not to play with our kills, so to speak. That even though the daimon was beyond saving, he’d once been a pure-blood… or a half-blood. Still, as disturbing as learning that Aiden had most likely tortured Eric, I wasn’t disgusted by it.
Gods know what that said about
me
.
“Thank you,” I said finally.
His head jerked toward me sharply. “Don’t thank me for something like that. I didn’t do it just—”
“You didn’t do it just for me. You did it because of what happened to your family.” And I knew I was right. It wasn’t so much that he’d done it for me. It was his way of taking revenge. It wasn’t right, but I understood it. And in his shoes I would’ve probably done the same thing and then some.
Aiden went still. The flames sent a warm glow over his profile as he stared down at his glass. “We were visiting friends of my father in Nashville. I didn’t know them very well, but they had a daughter who was about my age. I thought we were just vacationing before the start of school, but as soon as we got there, my mother practically pushed me in her direction. She was a tiny thing, with pale blonde hair and these green eyes.” He took a breath, fingers tightening around the fragile stem of the glass. “Her name was Helen. Looking back, I know why my parents arranged that I spend so much time with her, but for some reason, I just didn’t get it.”
I swallowed. “She was your match?”
A rueful smile appeared. “I really didn’t want to have anything to do with her. I spent most of my time shadowing the half-blood Guards while they trained. My mother was so upset with me, but I remember my father laughing about it. Telling her to just give me some time, and let nature run its course. That I was still very much just a boy and that men fighting would interest me more than pretty girls.”
There was a lump forming in my chest. I sat back, the glass of wine forgotten.
“It was night when they came.” His thick lashes fanned his cheeks as his eyes lowered. “I heard the fighting outside. I got up and looked out the window. I couldn’t see anything, but I just knew. There was a crash downstairs, and I woke up Deacon. He didn’t understand what was happening or why I was making him hide in the closet and cover himself with clothes.