Gravity (10 page)

“I’m sorry we barged in like that; I didn’t know Justus was planning on stopping by.”

“Don’t be sorry. Look, I’m glad you called. I’m coming over in the morning to pick up my car, so

let Mr. De Gradi know I’ll be there no later than nine.”

The back tires lost traction when the car turned a corner.

“Hello?”

“Sorry, Page. I’m listening. Are you sure that you don’t want us to come get you? It’s no

trouble.”

I heard her clicking her tongue as if she were thinking. “I’d prefer a cab.”

“Why? That’s just a waste of money.”

“The wet spots on the road will freeze tonight and I’d rather you not risk your safety. I’ve had

to deal with more accidents in the past day with clients. Not all Breeds heal as quickly. Shifters can

only do it when they change into their animal, and a Shifter doesn’t go through the change until

they’re an adult, so I get a lot of kids.”

“I guess you have been busy. Are you doing okay otherwise?”

I slowed at the intersection but my car continued sliding. I tapped the brake and turned into

the skid, causing the car to straighten and grind to a halt. The tires spun in place, kicking up bits

of ice in the back. “Shit.”

She sighed. “It’s—it’s fine. Nothing I can’t handle, and I think I have an important decision to

make. Hello? Is something wrong?”

“Sorry for cutting you off but I need go.” Luckily, everyone in the city had the good sense to

stay home so no one was around to hit me.

“Do you think your Ghuardian has jumpers? Hopefully my car battery hasn’t died from

frostbite,” she said with a laugh.

“That man is a jumper.”

The tires were spinning in place, so I threw the car into neutral and unbuckled my seatbelt.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, Page. Have a good one.”

“Take care.”

I shoved the phone in my purse and popped the door open, looking around. “Dammit,” I

muttered. It might have been helpful if Justus had shown me how to maneuver a car on ice.

Then again, I drove a tin can with no traction.

The stinging wind bit my cheeks when I got out and decided to push the car. I’d seen it done

in the movies; how hard could it be?

Car in neutral: check.

My door made an awful complaint when it closed and I walked like a penguin to the rear.

Maybe if I rocked the car a few times and then threw it in reverse, it would make a difference.

I bumped my rear end against the trunk repeatedly until the car began rocking back and forth.

This method seemed like a good idea since I didn’t think I could push the car with the shoes I had

on. I felt like an ass, but since there was no one to bear witness, I had no qualms with embracing

my assness.

My foot slipped and I hit the ice on my right shoulder. Without warning, the car began sliding

backward.

I screamed, scrambling to get away from the tires.

Suddenly, a metal croak sounded. Christian stood at my feet, holding up the end of the car as if

he were fluffing a blanket out for a picnic.

“Car trouble?”

After a few attempts, I managed to stand on my feet and wipe the sludge away from my face

as he dropped the car. My jeans were wet, but I couldn’t do anything about that.

“Thanks, Christian. I thought I was about to get squashed like a bug.”

“Now wherever did you learn that technique? I don’t seem to remember them teaching that in

defensive driving.”

“I got that from the offensive driving class,” I said, wiping my nose.

He stood very still in his long black trench coat, the edges flapping in the wind like a moth’s

wings. The winter ensemble was for appearances since cold weather had no effect on a Vampire.

His black liquid eyes settled on me, and a crooked smile animated his unshaven face. Christian

loved his scruff, letting his whiskers spread down his neck like a man who just didn’t care.

“Let’s grab a bite,” he offered.

“I need to get this car out of the—”

Christian whirled around and pushed the car like it were a matchbox until it settled by the curb.

He reached inside, pulled out my purse, and locked it up.

“I’ll not take no for an answer, lass, so don’t sit here and rabbit on. I can hear your stomach

growling from blocks away. There’s Italian just up the road. It’s a beautiful night for a stroll, is it

not?” he declared in a serious voice, spinning around with his arms outstretched.

It was out of character for him to be considerate. I hurled a sludgeball at his shoes and

matched his pace.

“Always got to have the last word,” he accused.

“I didn’t say anything,” I pointed out. “I’ve only got five bucks on me, so I hope this is a cheap

place.”

“Jaysus wept. Doesn’t Justus give you a fatter allowance than that?”

“I don’t see you much these days.” I tucked my hands into my coat pockets and blew out a

frosty breath.

His shoes crunched on the ice with every step and he kept his chin tucked in. “I can’t stay

shacked up in your underground bunker; it goes against my principles.”

“It was just a bed and a warm place, Christian.”

“It was a sweet gesture, to be sure, but I’m of little use if I’m not performing my duties to the

fullest.”

“Yadda yadda,” I muttered.

“Your fella was a real joy to travel with. I thought you were a barrel of monkeys, but that one is

the whole fecking zoo.”

“We’re here,” I said, glancing up at the neon light.

The Italian restaurant advertised they were family owned, and the moment we stepped inside,

the spices made me salivate. My shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor and Christian gave me a

dirty look.

A short man with a black mustache greeted us and I leaned forward to give him my order when

Christian suddenly spoke up. “She’ll be having the spaghetti combo.”

“Do you have a few extra garlic cloves?” I asked. The cashier appeared confused and I slapped

Christian on the back. “They’re for my friend.”

Dinner arrived quickly at our small table in the back. Christian set the warm breadsticks in the

center and watched me stuff hot noodles into my mouth.

“I want to hear more about your trip,” I said, licking the pasta sauce from my fork. “You didn’t

find out anything else?”

He scratched his jaw and looked out the window. “Just what you already know.”

“You’re not keeping anything from me, are you?”

Christian watched me closely and his voice softened. “You don’t have any desire to meet your

da? He’s an interesting character.”

“Do you know how hard it was growing up without a father? Wasn’t he even curious about

what I looked like? Now after everything I’ve found out, the only thing I feel is contempt.

Regardless of whether Grady donated his sperm or his light, he’s not my father.” I sipped my

lemon water through a white straw and pushed an ice cube around.

“After getting a look at Grady, the mystery of your ginger hair is not yet solved, lass.”

He was baiting me. When I was human, I had red hair. It didn’t come from my mother or her

side of the family. Upon my creation as a Mage, my DNA shifted and I permanently acquired many

physical traits of Samil, my Creator.

Christian laced his fingers and watched my reaction intently.

“I’m not that girl anymore, in case you haven’t noticed,” I said, flipping a strand of my black

hair. “That’s in the past.”

“It was more fetching when it was long,” he muttered, sitting back.

“Logan likes it short.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want the competition; looks like Goldilocks is giving you a run for your

money with his tresses.”

I took another bite of pasta. “Why don’t you order some food? You need to cram something

into that big mouth of yours.”

Christian pulled a noodle from my plate and let it dangle from his mouth. “Ever seen Lady and

the Tramp?”

“Well, if I’m the lady in this scenario, then I guess that makes you the tramp.”

I flipped the end of his noodle and it stuck to his face. A man at a nearby table lifted his head

from a small book when he heard me laughing. Sometimes Christian needed to lighten up a little.

“You are a venomous child,” he said, dropping the noodle onto the table. “Now I know where

you get that temper of yours from.”

I slammed my fork down. “Why are you baiting me on this? The only thing I want to know

about Grady is his involvement, but anything personal I just don’t want to hear. Why do you

continue to bring him up?”

Christian lowered his brows and they almost smothered his eyes. His open collar exposed his

smooth and delicious neck. I remembered the intimacy of the blood sharing and felt myself flush as

I looked away.

“Perhaps I think you’re being spiteful to a man without giving him a chance.”

“You’re my guard, not my therapist.”

He stood up and tossed a wad of money on the table, along with my car keys.

“I’ve taken out five juicers this week who tried to come after you. One of them planned to sell

you on the black market for two hundred grand. Drive home safely.”

Chapter 7

The following day, Justus kept close watch of the security systems.

I thought about the way he acted around Page and wondered how serious he could be about a

woman who wanted nothing to do with him. Justus liked to be in control and required a compliant

woman. It’s why we butted heads so often, and those were the moments that he liked me the

least. Page didn’t succumb to his gifts as a Charmer, and the peculiar thing was—he hadn’t even

noticed.

Of that, I was certain.

Just after eight in the morning, a sensor alarm went off at the main entrance of our property.

The cab driver dropped Page off and she hiked through the snow up the private road. I watched

on the monitor as Justus broke into a full run until he came within her sight. Then he slowed to a

casual stroll.

Yeah, the man was smooth.

I went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee.

The first thing I heard when the door opened was a dramatic sneeze.

“Page?”

She stood in the hallway, sapped out. Her bright red nose looked sore, and her brown eyes

were sunken in and bloodshot. Especially the bruised one.

“You look awful.”

Justus glared at me and I shrugged.

“It’s just a cold,” she muttered in a stuffy voice.

Something I’d never have to experience again, thank God. I watched as she removed her coat

in slow motion. Justus shook it out and hung it up neatly on a hook he’d installed that morning.

“Does coffee sound good? I’ve got some cocoa if you’d rather have that.”

“Coffee sounds fine,” she said in a monotone voice. “It hit me in the middle of the night and I

didn’t get much sleep. I decided to… to…” She sneezed again and wiped her nose. “To pick up my

car before it got worse.”

Justus stood helpless in the hall, a man who didn’t have a single cough drop in the house. A

man who hadn’t had a cold in more than five centuries. “Learner, check if we have any soup.”

Luckily, that was one thing we did have. I put a pot of chicken noodle on the stove and

brought her a cup of hot chocolate instead of the coffee. Page’s brown hair was unkempt and

stuck up on one side. My guess would be that she crawled out of bed, got dressed, and came

straight over.

“Here, try this. I put tiny marshmallows in it. Does your throat hurt?”

She held the brown mug and leaned against the wall in the dining room. “I just feel achy and

tired. Once I’m back in my own bed, I’ll feel better.”

“The soup will take a few minutes to heat up,” I said. “Have a seat.”

All men have an unspoken rule: never sit at the head of the table that isn’t yours. Page had

apparently never heard of this rule or didn’t care. She relaxed in Justus’s chair at the far end of the

room in front of the painting, and I sat to her right. Not my usual spot, but it wasn’t a usual

morning.

Justus spoke in his lusciously masculine voice. That’s the only way to describe it, because he

was being uncharacteristically soft. I had learned not to complain about pain around him because

he never offered sympathy unless he was the cause of my injuries. Even then, our training sessions

had progressed enough that there was no need to borrow light from him when I could tap into the

sun or just heal naturally.

“What can we get that will ease your discomfort?” he asked.

“Morphine.” She laughed and rubbed her face in her hands. “You know, that cab driver took

the long way so he could get more money out of me,” she said as if talking to herself. “Nothing,

Mr. De Gradi. Unless you have some aspirin—my head is killing me.”

No, we didn’t have any pharmaceuticals in the house. A Mage suffered the occasional bout of

stomach upset, but otherwise, medicine had no place in our lives.

“A cool cloth?” he suggested.

“Perfecto,” Page mumbled.

“That’s a yes, Ghuardian.”

He left the room and quickly returned with a neatly folded towel. She placed it across her

forehead and blew out a breath while Justus lit a few candles. The buzzer went off, so I hurried to

the kitchen and brought her back a bowl of soup.