House of Slide Hybrid (27 page)

I glanced at him, wondering if that comment was supposed to clarify something, then looked back at the car, at Lewis where he stood with his hands in his pockets, studying the snow covered trees at the edge of the road, not seeming to notice Grim and I at all.

“Dari, be careful,” Grim said, the warning echoing through the car.

I didn’t know if here were warning me about Lewis, tattoos, or demons.

“Sure.” I scrambled out of the car, aware of Grim’s intense gaze between my shoulder blades.

I walked slowly, trying to look normal as I waited for Lewis to notice me. He turned his head, smiling with curved lips as his warm eyes glimmered golden.

“You look beautiful,” he said in a low voice as warm as his eyes.

I forced myself to breathe as he opened the door for me.

“I thought that you were against tattoos,” I said before he closed the door.

His smile faded away. “Your uncle would have died last night before the taint began to take effect if it weren’t for tattoos. If you’re going to do it, it’s better to do it before the next attack comes.”

He closed the door so I had to wait until he slid into the driver’s seat before I could ask my next question.

“Do you think there’s going to be another attack?”

He glanced at me, his face serious before he grinned at me. “A demon attack that can break through runes means that someone’s organizing.”

“You think that it’s the person behind Devlin’s death?”

“It’s impossible to know. So many people are intrigued by you, Dariana, a girl who can live without a soul. It’s my job to make you harder to kill.”

I nodded but I felt numb. “That makes sense.” I looked out the back window and waved at Grim. He leaning against his hearse with a mournful expression on his face, watching us drive away.

“You kept the hair.” Lewis’s low voice was startling in the silence, startling because it was so rich, so deep and made me want to relax and tense up at the same time. He wasn’t looking at me but at the road, which was a good thing because people who drive should watch where they’re going.

I fingered the blue strands while I nodded. “Yes. It seems kind of unimportant with everything else going on, but maybe it’s good to have something else, something less life and death to worry about. How long does it take to get tattoos?”

He looked over at me, his warm eyes glowing brighter. My heart thudded in my chest.

“We’ll have to see whether the runes take. The melted metal will be poured into paths cut in your flesh. When it takes, the metal becomes absorbed by your body until it’s fused to bone.”

“Fused to bone,” I repeated twisting my hands together in my lap. “That sounds impossibly painful.”

“It is,” he agreed. “If you don’t feel it, it won’t take. Anesthetic is not an option.”

I nodded while I tried not to hyperventilate. One breath. In and out. Liquid metal fused to bone.

“If the metal doesn’t take, the metal has to be scraped out, and you get to try again.”

“That’s insane. Who would do that?”

He gave me a pointed glance. “We could drive in the opposite direction. The Dissonant Porpoises are playing in Chicago.”

“No.” My breathing was so shallow I had to force myself to calm down, to take a deep, even breath. “Pain is normal for Wilds. I’m supposed to embrace it, develop empathy so that I don’t run around killing people for fun.”

He put a hand over mine where they clung desperately together in my lap.

“The first session will take between two and five hours. Your artist will do a small sampling and hopefully some of the metal mixtures will take.” He frowned at the road, his fist gripping the steering wheel so that his knuckles were white although his hand on mine caressed gently.

“Two hours isn’t very long.”

“There are different techniques to cope with pain. Visualization, focus, purpose, but honestly, the more you feel it, the better your runes will be.”

I took his hand, smoothing my fingers over the scar on his thumb.

“I’ll think about you.”

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “I’ll try not to burn the place down. I wish I could do this for you.”

I shrugged. “You saved Grim. I didn’t know it would hurt him so much, but I’m still glad that he’s not dead. Is that selfish?”

He laughed. “I hate that you’re getting tattoos but am glad that you’ll have them so you’ll be harder to kill. Is that selfish?”

I leaned my head on his shoulder, glad when he rested his cheek on my hair for a moment.

“I think that it’s practical and logical,” I said. “If I don’t die before we finish the bond, hopefully I won’t die for a long time afterwards. Now would be convenient for you.”

He sighed. “Don’t talk about dying. This isn’t a joke.”

“You joked last night about Grim.”

“Did I? How insensitive of me. I apologize. I wanted to stay with you, but of course we have to defend Sanders.”

“Smoke was very impressed with you shooting flames out of your fingertips.”

Lewis laughed. “I’m flattered. He has the makings of a fine Hunter. Osmond has skills I didn’t expect to see in a Warmblood. Devlin made a fine tool out of him.”

My stomach twisted from the usual irrational guilt as I thought of Osmond and of course remembered the time I didn’t actually kiss him in the woods.

I straightened up from where I’d been against Lewis’s shoulder.

“This is driving me crazy,” I said, pushing his hair back so that I could see his perfect profile.

“Not knowing who was behind your brother’s death?” he asked.

I hesitated, but the guilt felt so real, I needed to tell Lewis, to confess so that I wouldn’t feel guilty any more.

“My brother could see the future.”

“So, how did he not see his death coming for him?” he asked.

I shrugged at the interesting point that had nothing to do with what I needed to say. “He imprinted some of his futures on rocks. I saw one of them, and the person I was in that vision wasn’t like me at all. I don’t think she ever lost her soul.”

“You saw a vision of the future? Don’t put too much stock in it.”

“In the vision I wasn’t a nice girl. I tried to kill you,” I confessed.

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m flattered.”

I swallowed and fiddled with the straps on my bag. “I wasn’t like myself at all. I had different hair.”

“Not blue?”

I shook my head. “Spiked and braided, like a tough girl. I had silver tattoos all over my body. I didn’t wear much other than leather. I had a boyfriend, I guess,” I said, feeling heat in my face.

“Leather is a sturdy, practical material. Maybe you were a demon Hunter.”

I nodded and rubbed my temples. “I feel guilty about my relationship with this person. I’m very sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said in a voice that chilled me. “You can’t feel guilty about things you aren’t responsible for. Guilt like that will eat you up and consume you. That’s my job.”

He flashed a smile at me that left me breathless and dizzy.

It took me time to breathe normally, to convince myself that getting tattoos made more sense than disappearing into the woods with him and his monster. We traveled in silence for some time before I spoke.

“Other than painful, what does it feel like to get tattoos?”

“They told me that it was like battery acid in your veins only worse. I don’t know, since I never tried tattoos. Most Hybrids who try don’t live very long afterwards.” His voice was soft, and his hand when he brushed the back of mine looked rough and real on my skin. He was real. The danger was real. My heart pounded as his hand hovered over mine.

“I don’t know what battery acid in my veins is like either, so that doesn’t really help.”

He glanced at me, his golden eyes glowing for a moment before he shifted his hands, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Battery acid burns, but it also eats at you.” He took a deep breath before shaking his head slightly. “During Wild training, since I couldn’t experience tattoos, they did their best to give me similar experiences, to deepen the pain.” He smiled then, the kind of smile that made me stop breathing.

“They put battery acid in your veins? Why? How? Who would do something like that, for no reason?” I held my breath as I reached out carefully to trace a vein in his wrist.

He focused on the road while I touched his skin. He’d survived battery acid? Of course he had. He could survive anything, but who wanted to?

“Training deepens pain, gives you empathy. I now know what it feels like to put battery acid inside someone so I’m naturally less likely to do it.”

“Well, that’s great! Otherwise I’m sure you’d be running around doing crazy battery acid stuff. Could use it in bloodwork and art.”

He smiled slightly. “It’s a good thing,” he said as he slid his hand over my wrist. “Battery acid Bloodwork art would be incredibly ugly.”

I laughed and shivered as his hand stroked my skin, gently, carefully, like he would never hurt anyone. Of course he would. I’d had his soul and I’d killed without any guilt at all.

Lewis cleared his throat. “Let’s talk about something else, something more fun. Valentine’s is coming up. Is Snowy making you crazy yet?”

“Valentine’s? Yeah. Smoke dyed his hair to match it. Snowy going with him, and Osmond is taking a really nice volleyball player, which is even better. I guess I’m taking Ash, who I haven’t even seen for weeks and who doesn’t actually dance. I hope he’s okay.”

Lewis squeezed my hand. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

“If he isn’t, will you help him?”

Lewis frowned. “I don’t know if I can. I used up most of the Hollow at the market.”

I nodded and felt my stomach clench. “I’m sure he’s good. He’s never been very committed to school.”

Lewis cleared his throat. “I thought that Osmond would take you to the dance. He’s very protective of you. When he learned that I was your Intended he gave me a long lecture on what was and wasn’t appropriate behavior, all while fighting demons. He would make a much better chaperone than Jackson. I have to say, Osmond can fight.”

“That’s what Satan said,” I muttered as I struggled with the guilt that surged when I thought of Osmond. “You wouldn’t mind if I went to a dance with Osmond?”

He cocked his head slightly and smiled. “I think it would be good for you to relax, enjoy time with your friends. I hope that I am your friend, but being with you isn’t very relaxing.” He grinned at me and squeezed my hand sending a bolt of heat up my arm.

“But it’s Valentine’s. It’s supposed to be about love.”

I felt awkward while he studied the road in front of us, his hand tightening on mine.

“I’ve asked you on a date. You clearly weren’t interested,” he finally said. “I’ve accepted that our relationship is complicated by the blood bond and the violence that surrounds me, the darkness that you’re so uncomfortable with. You don’t owe me anything. I’m happy with you not telling me that you never want to see me again,” he said with a slight smile.

I bit my lip as I studied his hand, so strong, so gentle, so warm and perfect.

“I guess it’s good that you’re not possessive.”

“Do you want me to ask you to the Valentine’s dance?” he asked, cocking his head as he looked at me.

“You’re Axel. You don’t really belong in high school. You’d feel out of place.”

Silence filled the car until he shrugged. “I would be honored if you would accompany to me to your school dance. I would dye my hair red if you’d like, or blue so that we could match. I would get a cummerbund in the appropriate hue.”

I snorted. I loved the picture of Lewis with blue hair and matching cummerbund in a rental tuxedo.

“Now you’re just asking me to make me feel better.”

He sighed. “I may want to drag you off into the woods and slit my veins open, but I also want to dance with you. There are so many dances that we haven’t danced. It’s tragic.”

“You really want to take me to the dance?”

He kissed my hand, the brush of his lips sending a shock through my body. “Yes. A million times yes. Going to a dance would be more pleasant than being welcomed into the arms of Slide. Be careful or I’ll think that it’s appropriate to take you to concerts and art shows, amusement parks and safaris.”

“Safaris?” I asked, frowning at him.

“Jungles,” he said with a grin. “Wide-brimmed hats and khaki.”

“Tigers?”

“Demons,” he responded, his eyes flickering gold and his smile becoming more predatory.

“How did we already get to the city?” I said as he took the exit off the highway.

“I wasn’t speeding,” he assured me.

I felt my heart pound and my stomach tighten as we drove towards downtown.

“I can’t do this,” I whispered.

“Tell me now, tell me if you want something else. If you want to leave, run further than anyone can catch you, tell me and I will make it happen.”

Breathe. I had to breathe, but the way his eyes burned when he looked at me, the way his voice had deepened to a level lower as his strong hands tightened on the steering wheel, arm muscle flexing in a way that was unimaginably complicated. Breathing was what I had to focus on instead of the meaning of the words, the offer that lay there, an offer of freedom, of no tattoos, no House games.