Runes (Paranormal Romance, YA,) (21 page)

Panic coursed through me. “Then who marked me?”

“I don’t know. But I give you my word,” he added, sounding so formal like the son of an English nobleman he once was. “I will never let you become like me.”

10.
 
NORMAL

I’m not going to panic… I’m not going to panic…

I repeated the words during the ride back home, until Torin pulled up outside his house and turned off the engine. Eirik’s Jeep wasn’t parked outside my house, even though I was ten minutes late. I hoped I hadn’t missed him. I needed to see him. Right now, he represented everything sane and normal.

“Thanks for everything,” I said, giving Torin the helmet.

“Any time.” He studied me intently. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I rubbed my eyes, my hands shaking, my mind starting to shut down. “I can’t deal with all this, Torin.”

“I understand. Maybe I shouldn’t have told you the truth.”

“No, I’m happy you did. I just remembered something else. I saw the runes on Andris
before
you healed me.”

Torin frowned. “You sure?”

I nodded. “That kind of confirms that I was marked before, right?”

“Yes,” he said slowly as though he was reevaluating everything he knew about me, which only made me feel worse. “Who did you meet first? Me or Andris?”

“You.”

His frown deepened.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I was afraid he’d marked you and awakened your ability to see magical runes.”

“And that would be… what? Bad?”

“Maliina is messed up because of how he turned her. He is…” He shook his head. “He’s reckless.”

This was all too much for me to handle. “I have to go. Eirik will be here any minute.”

Something flickered in Torin eyes. Pain? Anger? I couldn’t tell. He recovered and smiled. “Have fun. I hope he knows what a lucky guy he is.”

I was the lucky one to have Eirik, someone I could depend on when my world was crumbling. I walked away and tried not to look back. No matter how fast I hurried, I couldn’t outrun what Torin had told me. Someone had marked me before he arrived in town.

Who? Why? Would I end up like him? Alone? Roaming the world? Recruiting people for some secret organization? Probably. Tears rushed to my eyes. No, I refused to be like him. I was Lorraine Cooper, a normal teenager with a normal girl best friend and a normal boyfriend.

As soon as I entered the house, tears filled my eyes. I leaned against the door and slid down until I sat on the floor.

A knock rattled on my door. “Freckles?”

I ignored him, tears flowing faster and faster.

“Please, don’t cry,” he whispered.

I didn’t know how he knew I was crying. I just wanted him to go away.

“Let me come inside, so we can talk.”

“No.” He could probably use his runes to walk through the door, but I didn’t care. “Go away.”

“I’m sorry.”

Why should he be sorry? It wasn’t his fault. I cried harder. I knew he didn’t leave, knew he felt my pain and confusion on some fundamental level that defied explanation. It was one of those truths I didn’t bother to question anymore. I wasn’t sure how long I cried, but I felt rather than saw him leave. By then I was drained, completely spent.

Focus, Raine. This is not you.
My father taught me to always look for solutions, not let a problem consume me to a point where I became useless. I had to do something. Anything. I looked around the house and focused on the familiar, ordinary things that were part of my daily, normal life.

I checked my cell phone. There was a text message from Eirik. He was running late. I texted him back then headed to the kitchen to start on dinner. Good thing we were having leftovers. I turned on the oven to warm up the lasagna then started collecting the ingredients for a salad.

This was normal. This was my life.

The doorbell rang, and I ran to answer it. Eirik grinned from the threshold, and I laughed. I had never been happier to see him. With his wavy, Chex Mix hair and warm amber eyes, he represented everything sane in my life.

“Sorry for being late,” he said

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.” I leaped in his arms and kissed him. Not a peck, but a full-blown, I’m-crazy-about-you kiss. When I pulled back, Mrs. Rutledge was watching us from her window with disapproval. Yeah, whatever. Eirik was my boyfriend. I pulled him inside the house and shut the door.

“I should be late more often.” Grinning, he dropped his gym bag on the floor and looped his arms around my waist. “And that kiss makes what I’m about to ask a lot easier.”

He tried to sound nonchalant, but I saw the uncertainty flicker in his amber eyes. “What?”

“Will you go to the Homecoming Dance with me?”

We’d skipped school dances the last two years because, well, he never asked me and I never really wanted to go with anyone else. “Are you sure? We don’t do school dances.”

“
Didn’t
do school dance,” he corrected. “It’s different now.”

“It is?”

He pressed his forehead against mine. “You’re my girlfriend, and I want to show you off.”

I loved it. Going to the Homecoming Dance was what normal teens did. “That sounds like I’m a trophy or something,” I teased.

He gave me a sheepish smile. “Sorry. How about this? Y
ou
take
me
to the Homecoming Dance and show
me
off to the entire school. I don’t want other guys thinking you’re available.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a goofball, and yes, I’ll take you to the dance and show you off as my trophy.”

He laughed, lowered his head, and kissed me. This time, I let him lead. It started slow and grew intense fast. I put my arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. He was safe, dependable, normal, and a great kisser. My arms tightened.

“Wow,” he murmured when we moved apart. “We should have started dating years ago.”

“I don’t think you were ready to see me as anything but your childhood friend,” I teased, feeling bad the kiss didn’t have the wow-factor for me.

“Oh, I’ve always liked you this way, but you seemed happy being just friends.” He kissed me again, but I didn’t let him deepen it. I slipped out of his arms, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to the kitchen.

“Better late than never. I was making salad. Want to help?”

He wiggled his fingers. Exchanging a grin, I gave him the tomatoes. He knew where everything was and retrieved the cutting board from the cabinet where it was kept. While he sliced the tomatoes, I washed romaine and red-leafed lettuce heads. The familiarity of the scene brought normalcy back to my crazy life.

When he got a can of black olives from the fridge, opened it, and popped one into his mouth, I pointed my knife at him. “No, you don’t. You cut the onions, mister.”

“I hate onions.” He popped another olive into his mouth.

“I hate washing lettuce. Rules are rules. Tomatoes slicer does the onions, too.”

It didn’t matter how sharp the knife was, his eyes always teared up. I was laughing so hard by the time he finished. Tears ran down his face.

“I’m so going to make you do this next time,” he vowed then went to the downstairs bathroom to wash his face.

We added whatever we found in the fridge—olives, pickles, almonds, feta cheese—then tossed it with Italian dressing. Mom was still not home. I placed a tray of garlic bread in the oven and wiped down the counters. Eirik always made a mess.

We were making out on the couch when I heard Mom’s jiggling keys as she entered the house. We sprung apart.

“Hey, Mom,” I said, hoping I didn’t look as guilty as Eirik.

“Mrs. C,” Eirik said in a weird voice. I suppressed a giggle.

“Good evening, lovely children.” Mom dropped a kiss on my forehead then walked to the other end of the sofa and planted another on Eirik’s. She gripped his chin. “No more jumping over the balcony and sneaking into Raine’s bedroom, young man. You want to date my daughter? You do it the right way. You come
and
leave through the front door. No more spending the night in her bedroom either. The couch in the den opens into a queen bed. It’s yours whenever you want it.” She straightened and grinned. “I bought pumpkin pie.”

We stared after her.

“How did she know?” Eirik whispered.

“Sixth sense or something,” I said, jumping to my feet. “She’s scary smart.”

We followed Mom into the kitchen, where we’d set the table for three. I removed the lasagna from the oven and increased the temperature to make the garlic bread crispy. As we settled around the table, I had a feeling we were being watched. Torin. I glanced out the kitchen window several times, my emotions mixed. Part of me wished I could invite him over, even though I knew we were better off this way. He didn’t belong in my world, and I’d never be part of his. The other part wanted me to close the window. But if I did, Eirik would know why and I’d hate for him to think he had to compete with Torin for my attention.

As we settled around the table and started eating, our conversation by the waterfalls returned to haunt me. “Mom, did I have an accident when I was young and almost die?”

Mom choked on her wine and started coughing.

“You okay, Mrs. C?” Eirik asked, getting up to thump her back.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, putting her glass down, her eyes on me. “Where did that come from?”

I couldn’t tell her about the runes and the possibility that someone had saved my life by using them. It was the only explanation.

“Just a weird dream I’ve been having,” I fibbed.

She frowned. “You’ve never been in an accident, sweetie. However,” she added and my heart stopped, “before you were born, we never thought you’d make it.”

“What do you mean?”

“From the first trimester, we thought we’d lose you. It started with the spotting.”

“The spotting?” Eirik asked.

“Bleeding. Not heavy like periods, but just enough to cause Dr. Ellis to worry.”

“Ew, Mom. We’re eating.” Eirik and I made eye contact and grimaced.

Mom chuckled. “You opened this can of worms, sweetie. Your father planned to tell you the story on your birthday or before you left for college, but I think you might as well know the truth.”

“Unless something happened and I was miraculously brought back to life, we don’t need the details,” I said.

 
“Your father thought… thinks you should. He said there’s a reason you survived.”

I stopped eating and held my breath. She was no longer smiling. “What reason?”

“He said
you
would find out on your own. So many times we thought you wouldn’t make it, even after the first trimester, but you were determined to live. Then you were born premature, and there were complications. While you were fighting for your life, I was busy fighting for mine. Your father insisted we both fought to stay with him, but the nurses told me a different story. He did everything to make you live, from feeding you to giving you the human contact you desperately needed. Every day, he’d let you lie on his chest while he massaged your tiny body.” Her chin trembled as she smiled. “That’s the kind of man your father is. A fighter. Nothing ever stops him. That’s why I know he’s alive, that he’ll come back to us.”

Silence followed. My eyes welled. Now I understood why Dad often called me his little warrior, why he and I were close. I grew up running to him with my problems. From scrapes to little fights I had with Eirik, I’d go to him instead of Mom. That didn’t mean I didn’t love her as much as I loved him. He and I just shared a special bond. Still, the story didn’t explain the runes.

“I had no idea,” I whispered, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “How come you never told me any of this?”

Mom squeezed my hand. “Because it’s not a topic you discuss with a child or a rebellious teenager, who might think you’re trying to make them feel guilty.”

“I was never rebellious,” I protested.

Mom laughed. “Oh, sweetie. But enough talking about the past. What plans do you two have for this evening?”

“Homework, then swimming as soon as Cora gets here,” I said, my mind still mulling over what she’d told me. What if I survived because my father had help from someone like the one who’d turned Torin? “She volunteered to coach one of the new exchange students, and we’re going to keep them company.”

“That’s sweet. Maybe this time we’ll win state.”

Chances of that happening were slim. A 6A title meant we would have to beat Lake Oswego and Jesuit High. They had the fastest swimmers in the state. Torin should be recruiting them, not us. Maybe he would see that at the Trojan Invitational Meet in a few weeks and leave. Both teams would be there. I frowned. The thought of Torin leaving left a hollow feeling in my stomach.

“Go finish your homework while I clear the table,” Mom insisted after dinner. “And you’d better be doing homework up there.”

I made a face and led the way upstairs.