Girls Can't Be Knights: (Spirit Knights Book 1) (7 page)

“Too little, too late,” Justin growled.

Tariel took this as a signal and lunged at his hand. She snapped her mouth around the ur-phasm’s head and chomped down, punching through its neck. Justin flung the headless, bloody cat corpse away and Tariel spat the head out in a different direction. He turned to say something to Tariel and noticed Claire staring, her face pale, her eyes wide with shock, and her mouth hanging open.

“You just…she just… Its
head
—” She gasped for breath, and threw herself off the horse. In her haste, she landed on her butt. Scrambling to her feet, she held out a hand to ward him off, then turned and bolted.

“Claire!” He clambered onto Tariel’s back. “Chase her down.”

They caught up in seconds. Justin leaned down and scooped her up. She screamed and flailed while he hauled her across his lap. Tariel launched into a gallop, weaving between cars so fast she’d have to be stupid to jump down, even if he didn’t have a grip on the waistband of her pants. The great beast would trample her by accident when she landed, or a car would run her over.

When they reached a park, he pulled Tariel to a stop and slid to the ground, taking Claire with him. Holding her close, her back against his chest, he tried to calm her down, yet she kept wailing. “It’s okay, Claire. Listen to me!”

“Cop,” Tariel grunted.

He looked up and had a good idea of how this must look: adult male in knight costume wrestles screaming teenage girl. “It’s okay, officer. She’s just having a panic attack.”

After flashing him a look skeptical enough to blister paint, the cop bent to try to catch Claire’s eye with a friendly, sympathetic smile. “Miss? Are you in any danger?”

Thankfully, she stopped screaming. She panted for a second, and he thought she might nod. “Lunatic,” she breathed.

At this point, he shifted gears from “protect the girl” to “avoid getting arrested.” Later, he’d let himself feel the sting of betrayal. “Claire,” he said with a sigh. Letting her go, he held his hands up for the cop. “We hit a cat back there. She freaked out.”

The cop flicked his eyes between them and settled his attention on her. “Is that your name, miss? Claire?”

Chapter 9

Claire

“Yeah.” She blinked and caught her breath. “Claire.” How did she think the guy was perfect just a few hours ago? Justin had convinced her of his compassion and awesomeness by being sweet to his family and to her. When it came down to it, he was nothing like that.

“And are you alright?”

She pushed away from Justin and to the cop. “No, he’s a freak! He killed that cat, just like that!”

The cop wrapped an arm around her. “It’s okay, Claire, you’re safe now.”

“I’m not abducting her.” Justin sounded reasonable and long-suffering. “Claire, what are you doing?”

She buried her face in the cop’s shoulder and tried to block out their voices. “Leave me alone,” she whined.

“Fine,” he grunted. “You’ve got the gun, she’s all yours.” His chainmail jingled away, and Tariel’s hooves clopped into the distance.

“It’s safe now, Claire. He’s gone.” The officer pushed her away far enough to see her face. “Do you know him?”

“I thought I did.” She sniffled and wiped her nose on Marie’s sweater.

“Did he try to do anything inappropriate to you?”

She chewed on her thumbnail without meeting his eyes. “No. He’s just a weirdo.”

“Let’s get you tucked in.” He walked her to his squad car and settled her into the back seat. He climbed in behind the wheel and asked for her address. Once she’d told him, she sat back and watched the scenery go by, falling into mute shock by the time the cop car pulled up to her foster home. Numb, she did nothing while the foster mother—she forgot the woman’s name—shouted at her about being out all night and getting suspended and fighting at school and dodging her social worker. When the woman finally ran out of things to yell about, Claire ghosted upstairs to the room she shared with three other girls the same age and rolled into her top bunk to stare at the ceiling.

Nothing that happened with Justin or Marie had been real. She’d slept in a shelter someplace and conjured them as a dream of how life could be. Tomorrow, she would go back to school, and no one would mess with her, because they knew now that she could beat the crap out of any of them. That fight had been worth it, even if she did get suspended. One day didn’t matter. Nothing worth paying attention to happened on Thursdays anyway.

Her roommates asked questions, wanting to know if anyone had hurt her, if she got arrested, and a dozen other things. When she ignored them, they gave up and left her alone. She stared at the ceiling until dinnertime, convincing herself Justin didn’t exist and her father hadn’t been anything other than eccentric. After dinner, which she ate in silence and without interest, she went back up to bed and stared more.

Only a few minutes after she climbed into bed again, the door creaked open and shut. “Claire,” a voice whispered. Dim light coming in through the window glinted off Drew’s glasses when his head popped up next to her. “Are you awake?”

Had it been anyone else, she would have stayed silent. “Yeah.”

“Can I come up?”

“I guess.”

The bed creaked, groaned, and danced as he climbed the ladder at her feet. “Budge over.” He crawled up the bed and pushed her until she rolled onto her side. Two years ago, they’d both gotten into trouble for doing this. Nothing had happened between them; they just both couldn’t sleep and needed more warmth than their thin blankets could provide. He settled in behind her and held her close.

“Everyone was talking about you at school today,” he murmured into her ear. “‘Claire is a real badass. Don’t mess with her. She’ll kick your ass if you stare at hers for too long.’ I mentioned you’d punched a teacher in the face at your old school. I think it scared some of them.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“What’s wrong, Claire? What happened to you last night?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She breathed in his scent, a combination of soap, sweat, and toothpaste. “Tell me stuff will be okay.”

“Stuff will be okay. You only have one and a half more years until you age out. I’ll be out already by then, and we can get a place together. Just you and me. Some dinky apartment with cheap linoleum and a stove with only three burners working. Go to college. Work crappy jobs until we’re done and have degrees.”

It sounded nice, a fond dream to hope for. When she turned to smile at him, she discovered he’d taken off his glasses and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. She lay there, not quite face to face with the one person she felt she could trust, her eyes flicking back and forth between his. The skin between his brown freckles darkened and his cheek radiated heat.

“Claire, you’re really pretty.” He brushed her forehead, pushing some of her black hair aside.

She wanted him to kiss her. Not sure how to get him to ask or say what she wanted, she wriggled around to face him fully and had no idea what to do with her arms. Should she put this hand on his chest and the other one on his hip? Both on his chest? Wrap this one around herself and put the other one on his arm?

He seemed just as flustered. Both of them shifted, hands tentative and awkward. Finally, he touched her cheek and pressed his lips to hers, hesitant and light. The only kissing Claire had seen recently happened in movies, and she did what the actors did, making him follow suit. His mouth tasted minty.

The door opened to let in two girls chattering about something. Claire and Drew froze at the same time, and she willed her roommates not to look, not to notice, not to tell anyone. They talked about math homework, and Drew gulped when it sounded as though they were changing into their pajamas. He kept his eyes on her, showing her that he didn’t care about them. His fear echoed her own. If this foster father caught them together, one of them would get locked in the basement, and then the system would make sure they got separated for good.

Just when Claire thought they’d never leave, both girls chattered their way out to the bathroom, not bothering to close the door on their way out. “Be careful,” she whispered to Drew. He kissed her again, this time with a swift brush of his lips on hers, then he jumped down from her bunk and hurried to the door. After peeking out, he ran for it, headed up the hall to the room he shared with three other boys.

She hugged herself. Everything with Justin had been a fabrication, a lie. This was real. It felt good. Tomorrow, she and Drew would ride the bus together, and have gym class together, and meet out by the tennis courts at lunch. It would be a good day, a better one than the last two.

Chapter 10

Justin

Tariel plodded up the street with all the enthusiasm Lisa had for taking a bath: none. “You should have fought harder for her.”

“Shut up.” Justin clenched his jaw and wrenched the reins to the side, forcing the horse to take the cross street.

“Ow, quit it. You can’t just let her go like that.”

“I said shut up.” He stewed, wanting to punch something.

“Pull your head out of your behind, Knight. Where are we going?”

Crossing his arms to restrain the urge to thump her between the ears, he grunted. “Take us home. She’s safe enough with the cops for now.”

“It’s going to happen in the worst possible place.”

“Yeah, and that’s life. Stuff a cork in it and take us home. I need to think.”

“Great. That means it’ll be three days before we do anything else.” She flicked her ears when he scowled and launched into a gallop.

He’d stopped that ur-phasm from clawing her up any more than it already had, and yet she freaked out and told him to leave her alone. It reminded him of the first time he’d held Lisa and she wouldn’t stop crying. The midwife had said that was normal, that babies cried for the first minute or so. Despite that, he’d felt helpless and weak, stupid and foolish. In that moment, he hadn’t been able to think of anything he wanted more than the power to comfort the tiny bundle in his arms. Then Marie had solved it by waving her magic mommy wand. Somehow, he had a feeling she couldn’t fix this so easily. He’d have to figure it out for himself.

The scenery rushed past as they streaked north faster than the traffic, matching the pace of dark clouds rolling in. They reached the farm, and he took Tariel to pull her saddle and bridle off, then brushed her down. For once, she kept quiet, sensing the sourness of his mood. When he finished, she gave him a long, slow blink and settled in her stable, where she’d be warm and dry through the incoming storm.

Outside, the clouds opened up and dumped on him. He slogged through the mud in the sudden downpour, getting spattered and soaked. The axe caught his eye. He tugged his mailed gloves back on, grabbed the axe, and set up a log on the old stump in the clearing. Ignoring the rain pelting down on him, he swung the axe and wedged it into the middle of the log, cracking it in half. He wrenched the two halves apart and dropped one while setting the other up. Another swing split the half into quarters.

Three logs later, his mind had settled, as it always did. He stacked up the new firewood in the lean-to behind the farmhouse to dry and leaned the axe against the wall. In the cottage’s mud room, he peeled soaked boots, socks, and gloves off, and hung his cloak up. Since the socks were wet enough to drip, he left them behind and went inside.

“Daddy!” Missy ran and jumped into his arms, convinced he would catch her.

He lifted her up and kissed her forehead, then set her back down. “Not now, Pumpkin. Go play with Mommy.” Thank goodness Lisa would still be at kindergarten now.

“What’s wrong?” Marie remained sitting on the floor where she’d been playing with the toddler. Her brow knit with concern.

She had enough to worry about and deal with. He mustered a smile and waved her off as he headed for the bedroom. “Nothing. Just a—” He sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“I thought you’d be longer. Where’s Claire?”

“It’s complicated.” In the bedroom, into which he did not now flee, he dismissed the enchantment holding the pauldrons to his chainmail and settled them on their stand. With another wave of his hand, the chain shirt released its tight grip on his torso and arms, and he wriggled out of it.

“Complicated like you’re having pervy old man thoughts about a teenage girl, complicated like you can’t stand her because she’s a teenage girl, or complicated like you did something stupid?” Marie stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed and her mouth drawn down in an annoyed frown.

“I’m
not
a pervy old man,” he grumbled with his back to her, yanking his shirt off. “My dad is a pervy old man, not me.”

She huffed out a half-laugh. “You did something stupid, didn’t you.”

Glancing back, he caught her smirking at him and scowled. “It was
not
stupid.” He crossed his arms over his bare chest and glared out the window. With the ratty old brown curtains drawn aside this morning to let the sunshine in, he had a great view of the already lessening storm. “I did what I had to do.”

Marie came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. Her head settled on his shoulder, and she brushed her cheek against him. “You did what you
thought
you had to do. It had an unintended side effect, right?”

He sighed, always soothed by her touch. “Something like that.”

“What happened?”

“An ur-phasm tried to kill her. I killed it and she freaked out.”

She kissed his shoulder. “I have a feeling you’re leaving some parts out.”

He frowned, realizing he could have handled that situation better. “I questioned it first. Tariel bit its head off.”

Squeezing him around the middle, Marie stayed quiet.

“It had a cat shell. She saw me offer it a chance to live, then my horse killed it, making me the Mighty Kitten Slayer.” Letting his arms relax and fall to his sides, he shook his head. “You’re right, I did something stupid.”

“I love you, Jay.”

He lifted a hand to cover his face. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve done in a week.”