Ignited (10 page)

I was about to return with an armful when I heard a rustling in the brush behind me. I spun around, half expecting a shiny-golden-eyes beast of a man to come barreling toward me. I saw nothing, but the noise continued. It wasn’t loud and didn’t sound to be getting closer, but after my experience last night, nothing eased the fear that gripped me. I hated the woods and the things that lived in the woods. I really hated bad guys that tried to kill me in the woods.

With the sun setting, it was getting darker by the second. I had no intention of being out there, by myself, in the dark, with something making noise in the brush. Keeping my eyes on the suspicious spot, I retreated in the direction of the tent and Nathan. I doubted it was one of them. If it were, they would have attacked me by now. What if it was a bear, or a wolf? I decided nothing was impossible. Not after all I had seen in the past twenty-four hours.

I found Nathan putting the sleeping bags inside the tent.

“Hey, Nathan,” I called.

He stood and looked at me.

“I heard something out there.”

He followed the direction of my gaze. “You see anything?”

“No.”

He shrugged dismissively. “Probably a rabbit or a squirrel.”

I glanced at him. “After all that’s happened, are you really okay with probably?”

He stared at me a beat then sighed. “You want me to go check it out?”

I made a face like I didn’t really care, but hell yeah, I wanted him to. He collected his knife from the holster he had set on the ground and, with a slightly annoyed—and maybe a little amused—glance at me, started in the direction I indicated.

“Aren’t you going to take a gun?” I asked.

“I think I’ll be fine.” He had the audacity to sound bored.

“What if it’s like a pack of wolves?”

“Then we’re dead anyway,” he muttered without bothering to look at me.

He had to be joking, but I wasn’t laughing. I gaped at his back as he moved into the thick brush, and I lost sight of him. I focused on that spot where he had disappeared as it grew darker and the trees blended into the shadows. After a while, I was pretty sure I started to see things.

And hear things. The forest and all its creatures picked that moment to come to life around me. Hoots, and chirps, and noises that belonged in a scary movie, not my reality, overstimulated my sense of hearing. Something squalled to my right, and I spun my head in that direction. Nothing but darkness greeted me.

I eyed the guns at my feet and mentally reviewed the crash course Nathan had given me. I really didn’t want to have to use one of those, and wasn’t sure I could do it if I had to. I already regretted insisting that Nathan check out the noise, and wished he would hurry up and get back.

And then there he was. I sighed in relief, and then I saw what he was carrying. 

He lifted up a floppy rabbit as he approached. “Found dinner.” My face dropped as he tossed the poor creature to the ground next to the firewood. He seemed pleased with himself, and I hated to tell him that there was no way in hell I was going to eat that thing.

After starting the fire, he prepared the rabbit, further grossing me out, but by the time it was thoroughly cooked, I was so hungry I no longer cared what it had once been. I never thought I would happily eat a rabbit, but I graciously accepted the chunk of meat Nathan offered me.

Afterwards, I slipped inside the tent to change clothes. I was in desperate need of a shower, but settled for a clean t-shirt, jeans and underwear. Nathan’s hoodie was the only thing I had warm enough to curb the chill so, even though it was filthy, I slipped it on over my t-shirt. If he had told me we would be camping, I would have packed more appropriately.

He changed after me and emerged looking refreshed. I hated him for that. He sat next to the fire, leaned his head against the trunk of a tree, and pulled his hat down part way over his eyes, managing to make our set up look as relaxing as a five-star resort. I hated him more for that.

The fire flicked between us, the parade of lights and shadows dancing across his features, and I couldn’t look away. His legs were crossed at the ankles, his arms folded over his chest. He wasn’t necessarily big, at least not in an ugly disproportionate kind of way. He was big in a tall, lean, and solid kind of way. Stubble from a few missed shaves darkened his jaw. Normally, I wasn’t a fan of facial hair, but he made a little scruff look good. He was younger than I had initially thought. While there was an obvious maturity about him that made him seem older, my eyes detected something unmistakably boyish in his features. I guessed early twenties.

As I took in his appearance, I noticed other details I had previously missed: the broadness of his chest and shoulders, the fullness of his lips, the dimple lines in his cheeks. I wondered if he had dimples when he smiled, assuming he ever smiled. As my gaze drifted up to what I already knew was my favorite feature—his eyes—I jumped when I realized they were open and looking right at me. 

Shit. I looked away quickly, but it was too late. He had totally caught me checking him out. Talk about embarrassing. I wondered how long his eyes had been open.

How long had I been staring? 

After a few excruciating seconds, I risked a peek at him. His eyes were still on me, and held mine for a beat. He blinked and, when his eyes opened again, they were on the fire. He maintained a perfect poker face the whole time.

I was beyond mortified and, after a few excruciatingly awkward minutes, sauntered into the tent to hide. As I nestled into my sleeping bag, I tried to forget what had happened. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Maybe he had opened his eyes at the exact moment I had looked at them. Maybe he had missed my obvious admiration of him.

Or maybe he was in as much denial over what had happened as I was.

More humiliation awaited me in the morning. Taking care of a full bladder in the morning was easy for Nathan, mortifying for me. There was nothing dignified about peeing behind a tree with your super-cute wilderness tour guide lurking nearby.

The day only got worse from there. The rabbit had long vacated my stomach, and the crackers we split for breakfast had done little to satisfy my hunger pangs. Every muscle in my body ached and my ankle throbbed. We were further cursed by bad weather. The temperature steadily dropped as we gained altitude and, by midafternoon, we were trudging through a light sleet and rain mixture. My clothes were soaked and clinging to my body. I was cold, exhausted, hungry, and crabby. 

“So, Nathan,” I called from a ways behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and slowed, barely. “How long are we going to be walking through the woods?”

He shrugged, and I waited for him to elaborate, but apparently he didn’t think that was necessary. It was a golden opportunity for my patented sarcasm to make its grand entrance. “Okay, thanks. That really helps clear everything up.” He didn’t indicate one way or another that he heard me, so the snarkiness kept coming, like a wall of water rushing through a broken dam—impossible to stop once it got going. “Why all this walking through the woods anyway? I know you want to hide out for a little while, but why in the mountains? Why don’t we climb down off this thing and find a car to hijack? They’d never know.” I attempted to angle through a bush of thorns as cleanly as Nathan had, and groaned when I had to stop to unsnag my pants.

At least he stopped and waited for me to free myself. “We’re better off hanging low in the middle of nowhere for a while,” he said.

“Well, you picked the right place.” When he didn’t elaborate, I sighed. “Why are we better off?”

He took a minute to think about his answer. “Because my side is better with this sort of thing than the other side is. Chances are they didn’t bother trying to follow us, and if they did, they’re probably really lost right now. More than likely, they’re waiting for us to pop up somewhere civilized. Instead, we’ll stay off their radar and, eventually, they’ll move on.”

Sound theory, but I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t have tried following us. “Why are you so sure they’re not trailing us right now?”

“We all have certain strengths. One of mine happens to be a strong sense of nature, hunting, tracking, living off the land…” He opened his arms in gesture to the nature we were immersed in. “That sort of thing. It’s a rare trait for the other guys.”

While it was good to know we had an advantage, I was hung up on his choice of words. “Did you say one of your strengths?”

“I’m kind of a mutt,” he answered with a shrug. “I have a few specialties.” 

I smiled at the term mutt, but he wasn’t looking. “Like what?”

He ticked them off on his fingers. “I’m really good at fixing things and solving problems, I’m a good fighter, and I’m kind of smart.”

I had seen proof of his fighting skills and had to agree with him about that one, but I rolled my eyes at the suggestion of his heightened intelligence. “Not cocky at all, are you?”

He shrugged like he couldn’t help it. “It’s all in my blood.”

“So you’re born with these strengths?”

“Kind of.” He hesitated and looked at me like he was deliberating on how much to tell me. Again, he was careful with his words, “We’re born with certain preprogrammed traits, but they don’t show up until late in adolescence. Then, we start to master these specialties while developing an increase in overall strength and speed.”

“Hmm.” The idea of being born with an aptitude in certain things was, well, interesting. Whoever, whatever, he was...it intrigued me. So much so that curiosity replaced the bitchiness from a moment ago. “So, aside from the ones you have, what other specialties are there?”

“There are a total of twelve. The nature thing, the fighter, the crafty-fixer, and the smart one.” He listed them slowly, starting with his own traits as he ticked them off on his fingers. I kept my expression blank as he spoke. From the way he was eyeing me, I knew it wouldn’t take much of a reaction from me—an eyebrow raise, running, kicking and screaming, or anything in between—for him to put a stop to this question and answer session. “There are manipulators of the four elements: air, water, earth, and fire, natural born leaders, and charmers that are good with people.” 

I immediately thought of Alec. Alec, the charmer. Nathan was definitely lacking that one. 

That was only ten specialties. While I couldn’t wait to grill him for examples of what a fire manipulator could do or what kind of tricks could be done with water, I wanted to know what the other two were.

He hesitated and looked down at me as if he could read my mind. “The others are a little weird,” he cautioned.

“Compared to the normalcy of everything else?”

He shrugged as if realizing for the first time that I had a point. “There are some that can predict the future, visit others in their dreams and communicate with them. We call them prophets.”

“Wow,” I breathed. Now that was cool.

He made a face like he hadn’t been prepared for me to be that accepting. “The last one is more common among the other guys,” he warned, and I nodded my encouragement. I was a heartbeat away from wailing, “Come on already!”

“They have some abilities to communicate with the dead,” he said.

Okay. Breathe, Kris. Remember to breathe. Don’t let him know how incredibly, insanely messed up that is!

Well, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Not really. After learning that I lived in a world in which not everyone was entirely human, I really shouldn’t have been surprised that some of them could speak to the dead. Prophets and mediums—the so-called make believe—were real…whatever it was the other five percent of Nathan was. Again, I wondered what that was. Before I could ask, he walked away. 

He was the master of avoidance. I wondered if that was a special trait.

As I hurried after him, I tossed around a few ideas on how to handle these new revelations. Indifference? Fear? I thought about throwing a tantrum, complete with kicking and screaming, just for laughs.

That was it. Humor would work. I opted to react with my always-dependable wit, and just a touch of sarcasm. “So, you’re actually kind of boring, huh? I mean, compared to the others.”

He didn’t respond, but I knew he heard me.

“Sure, you’re a fighting, shooting Mr. Fix It, mountain-climbing, rabbit-wrangling Rain Man,” I sang to his back, “but you can’t predict the future or talk to the dead. If you ask me, you got a raw deal.”

That earned me a glare tossed over his shoulder. “I’m happy with what I got.” 

I chuckled. Under my breath and to his back. Not his face. I wasn’t that stupid. And I was alone. In the woods. With a man capable of killing. I would know.

At least the humor approach had worked. The added awkwardness brought on by the subject matter evaporated, leaving us with the usual amount of awkwardness. He didn’t ask me about my reaction, and I didn’t ask him for any more details. Maybe later, after I had time to absorb all that he had told me. It was a lot to digest for now—inherited specialties, superior strength and speed, slowed aging process, and let’s not forget the not-all-human part.

Come to think about it, I probably should have run, kicking and screaming, a long time ago.