Tempered (A Daughters of the People Novel) (Daughters of the People Series) (14 page)

He pinched the bridge
of his nose and breathed slowly, searching for calm. He needed to think, needed
to sort through everything, put all the pieces he’d been given together into
one picture.

Lali bounded
into the room, her eyes bright, her mouth stretched into a wide grin. She was
dressed in a black turtleneck and thick tights under a plastic, kid-sized
breastplate and plated skirt with a wooden sword strapped to her back. “Looky,
Airn! I’m an Amazon.”

Aaron dropped
the magazine on the coffee table and opened his arms. Lali launched herself at
him, never losing her grin, and he held her tight, breathing in her little girl
smell.

Hawthorne
followed at a slower pace and sank gracefully onto the couch beside them. She
nodded toward the magazine. “That was not for your eyes.”

He snorted. “Like
you didn’t deliberately plant it there for me to find. Seriously, Hawthorne.
You’re taking this too far.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, you are.”
Lali leaned back and cocked her head at him, and he reined in his temper, as
much as he could. “I don’t appreciate it either.”

“Do you not?”
Hawthorne’s grey eyes were flinty in her impassive expression. “Perhaps I do
not appreciate your continued disbelief.”

“Maybe if you’d
talk about it rationally…”

She slashed her
hand through the air, cutting him off. “Rational. As if you were acquainted
with the word.”

He hissed in a
breath, blew it out slowly. “You know, I’m gonna let that pass. Me and Lali are
going trick or treating.” He stood, shifting Lali to his hip.

Hawthorne rose
as well. “Lali will guide you around the neighborhood. Have a care with her.”

“I always do,”
he said around the lump in his throat. As if he’d ever let anything happen to
Lali.

He snagged
jackets for the two of them while Lali rounded up her Halloween basket, a
plastic Jack-o-Lantern with a stiff, black handle. The sun hadn’t yet set when
they left and the evening air was still balmy, a holdover of the day’s warmth.
Lali held his hand as she bounced down the sidewalk, chattering about all the
people they were going to visit and the treats she might get. He nodded at
parents, obediently waited while Lali rang doorbells and received treats, and
felt his world tilt into surreal when he realized most of the costumed little
girls were dressed similarly to Lali and accompanied by fit women in their
early twenties. Gangs of young women roamed the streets dressed in armor and
leather, some leading half nude young men by chains or ropes.

The whole town
was in on it. Must be. It was like a bad episode of
The Twilight Zone
.
Any minute, he expected Rod Serling to pop out from behind a bush and narrate
Aaron’s journey through the madhouse around him.

Not long after,
they ran into Charlotte, Becka, and Becka’s younger brother. Aaron sighed,
relieved to see a moderately sane person.

“Hey, Aaron,”
Charlotte said. “Y’all getting a good haul?”

“I think so.” He
stuffed his hands into his back pockets. “Can I ask you a question?”

She deftly broke
up a pending squabble between her children before answering. “Sure.”

“How old is your
mother?”

“She’s…” Her
eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

He shrugged. “I
was reading an article about her in this magazine.”

“The one in
The
World of the People
?” At his nod, she said, “That was a great piece.”

“Was it true?”

Her face closed
into a hard mask. “You haven’t worked things out with Hawthorne yet, have you?”

“No,” he
admitted. “I tried, but she keeps coming up with these cockamamie stories.”

“Try harder,”
she said bluntly. “Or leave if you can’t accept her.”

“I want to,” he
began.

“That’s not
enough.” She compressed her lips into a thin line. “Look, Aaron, I like you.
Really. You’re a nice guy and I know Lali loves you, but you have to come to
terms with this.”

“How? It’s
crazy, some of the things she says, and that blasted article, which has to be
fake…”

“Tell you what.
My mother lives two blocks that way.” She jerked her chin at a side street. “Go
see for yourself how fake she is.”

She took her
children, one in each hand, and nodded at him.

“Charlotte,
wait.”

She marched past
him, head high, her back ramrod straight. He watched her go, as confused by her
reaction as he was by everything else.

So much for
asking the sane person.

Lali snagged his
hand and pulled him down the sidewalk. As often as not, people stopped to chat
with her and introduced themselves to him. By the time they made it to
Charlotte’s mother’s house, his head was dizzy with names and faces and the
curious stares of strangers.

Bobby answered
the door at the Upton residence and scowled. He lifted Lali into a hug and
nodded toward Aaron. “Kesselman. Thought Hawthorne would give you the boot by
now.”

Lali clapped her
tiny hands against Bobby’s cheeks. “Silly man. Nana’s boots won’t fit my
puppy.”

Bobby’s face
melted into a fond grin. “Is that so? How about I give you a boot for your
treat, huh?”

“That’s not a
treat,” she said, and squealed with laughter when Bobby goosed her ribs.

The woman from
the magazine’s cover stepped up to the door, her face wreathed in a gracious
smile. She held out her hand and shook Aaron’s. “Mr. Kesselman. I’m Rebecca
Upton. Nice to meet you at last.”

“Ah, nice to
meet you, too.”

Up close,
Rebecca appeared as sane and rational as any of the people he’d met in
Tellowee, maybe more so. Her gaze was direct, her posture firm. Not exactly the
hallmarks of a crazy person or someone who’d allow herself to be dragged into
the middle of another person’s scheme. But how to tell?

“I just finished
reading that piece on you in
The World of the People
.”

“They hounded me
for ages to give that interview. I finally gave in and now it’s all anyone
wants to talk about with me.”

“I’ve had that
happen. Crazy how a little publicity stirs people up.”

She leaned
against the doorframe. “That’s right. You’re an author.”

“I am.”

Bobby rolled his
eyes. “If y’all are gonna talk, I’m taking little bit here inside to see Dad.”

“Sure,” Aaron
said, and watched carefully as they left, Bobby’s boots thumping heavily
against the wooden floor as he teased Lali. “My main character is called
Rebecca the Blade.”

A coy smile
flashed across Rebecca’s face. “Is that so?”

“Kind of a
coincidence that Hawthorne came after me because of a character in a graphic
novel whose name is the same as yours.”

“Mmm. Do you
have a point, Mr. Kesselman?”

He lifted one
shoulder in a casual shrug. “Just wondering if she’s pulling my leg or if
there’s something else going on here.”

“Did you ask
her?” She shook her head slightly, sending wisps of fine blonde hair twirling
against her face. “No, I can see that you did, and that you didn’t believe
her.”

“Should I?”

She held his
gaze for a long moment, considering him with the canny regard of the field
general the article had made her out to be. “What does your heart say?”

“She’s telling
the truth.” He blew out a breath and shook his head. “But that can’t be right.
Some of the things she claims…”

“Can’t possibly
be so. Yes, I’ve heard that before,” she said gently. “The war here is not
between you and Hawthorne. It’s within yourself. Trust her or don’t, but at
least understand where the true conflict lies.”

He glanced away,
struck to the quick by her discernment.

“Consider this
as well, Mr. Kesselman. I’ve known Hawthorne for a very long time and have
never known her to be anything but honest.”

He rubbed a hand
across his nape. “Exactly how long have you known her?”

“If I told you,
you wouldn’t believe me.”

“That long,
huh?”

She laughed.
“Indeed.”

“You have to
know how crazy that sounds.”

She laid her
hand on his arm. “Sometimes, the truth is much stranger than fiction. As an
author, you must have experience with that.”

He stared at
her, nonplussed. What a way to put it.

She squeezed his
arm, then dropped her hand. “Come inside and retrieve Lali before Bobby makes
her a permanent part of our household.”

He followed her
in, rescued Lali from being completely spoiled by Rebecca’s son and husband,
and escorted the little girl around town until well after dark, his thoughts in
turmoil.

Late the next
afternoon, Aaron dropped his head against the back of the couch in Hawthorne’s
office and closed his eyes. Since reading that article on Rebecca Upton and
talking to her in person, he’d wrestled with the one thing he hadn’t considered
before.

What if
Hawthorne was telling the truth?

Crazy, that’s
what that was. People didn’t live to be that old. They just couldn’t. Yet, the
number of people he knew who seemed to sincerely believe otherwise was growing
by leaps and bounds. Hawthorne, Charlotte and Rebecca, Jim Hornby. Probably
their relatives as well, Ruby, Levi, Bobby Upton, Rebecca’s husband, and God
only knew who else. Maybe the whole damn town of Tellowee. How could people who
appeared so sane and rational be anything but? Was it some kind of mass
hysteria, or was it simply the truth?

Had he been
wrong about Hawthorne all along?

He studied
Hawthorne in the soft light thrown from the Tiffany lamp beside the couch. Over
the past few days, she’d taken to dressing as he did, wearing comfortable
sweaters and jeans when they worked, running around in her socked feet. She
slumped into the couch, her fingers flying across the keypad of the laptop
propped on her toned thighs.

He remembered
what those thighs looked like without the protection of clothes, long and
sculpted, pale and strong as she knelt above him and rode them both to release.

Desire stirred
and his body hardened. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever met, stubborn
and frustrating when she wanted to be, at times so blunt with her honesty, it
bordered on tactless.

He’d begun to
fall for her before he’d learned of her past, begun to fall for the way she
touched him, for her kind, stoic wisdom, and the flashes of humor he glimpsed
when she let down her guard. Making amends had only been part of his reason for
pursuing her back to Tellowee. The much deeper need dwelt in his heart. Their
time at DragonCon had been almost magical, their friendship so promising, and
the closeness more than he’d ever thought to have again. Was that why he was so
eager now to believe in her, because he wanted her so much and needed her to be
whole? Because with each day that passed, he grew more and more desperate to
find a way through her defenses to the woman he’d nearly fallen for, and was
falling for still?

She saved her
work, closed the lid of the laptop, and placed it on the coffee table. “You are
staring.”

“I am.” He slid
the tip of his finger down the smooth curve of her cheek, and was surprised
when she turned in to the touch. “You’re so beautiful.”

Her lashes swept
down over soft gray eyes. “So you say.”

“Because it’s
true.” He shifted closer, pulled her into a light hug with a casual arm over
her shoulders. “Go out with me tonight.”

She slid him a
sideways look. “That would be unwise.”

“Why? Lali’s
spending the night with Becka. Maria won’t be back until Monday.”

“I need to
remain here should Lali wish to return home.”

“So we won’t go
far. The Omega has decent food, pool tables. Dancing.” He brushed his face over
her hair, breathing in her scent. “Or we could stay here and do a movie
marathon. You and me on the couch, with nobody to interrupt us.”

She huffed out a
soft breath. “Your wishes are transparent.”

“Hey, I’m a man.
We’re not that complicated.” The delicate swirl of her ear beckoned. He dipped his
head and nuzzled it, and desire blossomed into something more. “Come on. It’ll
be fun.”

“Perhaps an
evening out would not be amiss.” She smoothed a crease from her jeans, plucked
at a piece of lint. “We have worked hard since your arrival. A short break
among others could be beneficial.”

“That’s my
girl.” He dropped a kiss to her cheek. She turned her face up for him, and he
tried hard not to gloat over the small triumph. “I’ll go check on Lali.”

He found her in
her room packing an overnight bag, and hid his smile at the variety of items
she’d stuffed into the small suitcase. The ragdoll she slept with. An
assortment of Barbies and action figures, complete with clothes, accessories,
and doll-sized weapons. Two of her favorite bedtime stories. Three pairs of
shoes, including a pair of hard plastic pink heels with glitter across the
toes. A cowboy hat, her Halloween sword, and a deck of Uno cards, but not one
item of clothing.

“Need some
help?” he asked.

Her face lit up
with a happy smile. “Airn! I done gots most of the ‘sentials.”

“I see.”

“It’s gonna be
so much fun.” She flipped the lid over and laid down on it with her tongue
between her teeth, and struggled to pull the zipper around. “You should come,
too, then you could tell Becka stories and tuck us in.”

He lifted her
gently off the bag and opened it back up. “Me and Nana are gonna do grown up
things tonight.”

Her face fell.
“Oh.”

“You’ll have
lots of fun without me.” He sat down on the edge of her bed and pulled her into
his lap. “I bet Miss Charlotte’s already got movies and games for you.”

She rested her
head on his chest and hefted a heavy sigh. “Yeah, but that’s not the same as
grown up stuff.”

“It’s better,
almost definitely. You get to stay up late and aggravate Becka’s little
brother, maybe have a pillow fight and eat too many treats.”

“But I will miss
you so.”

His heart
trembled in his chest and flopped right over. He brushed the wisps of hair from
her sweet little face and was rewarded with a smile. “I’ll see you in the morning
bright and early when Miss Charlotte drops you off. Now, how about we rearrange
your bag a little?”

He talked her
into leaving most of the things she’d packed, all but her ragdoll, the pink
heels, and her Halloween sword, and added two nightgowns, clothes for the next
day, extra underwear and socks, and her toiletries. She bounced on the bed as
she helped zip the suitcase shut, her bright, bubbly chatter surrounding him.

Half an hour
later, he and Hawthorne dropped Lali off at Charlotte’s. Aaron met the cold
gaze of Rebecca Upton’s daughter evenly. He’d had a lot of practice at that
since Hawthorne had come into his life.

And finally, it
was just the two of them, him and Hawthorne, confined together in the spacious
interior of her SUV while she drove them into the cozy downtown area of
Tellowee. Nerves fluttered in his stomach and his palms dampened. Since his
arrival in Tellowee, they hadn’t been alone much. Even when they were working,
there was a near constant threat of interruption, from Lali or Maria, or from
one of the many people who phoned seeking Hawthorne’s advice. The occasional
quiet evening after Lali’s bedtime, that was theirs, but it wasn’t the same
thing as being completely alone like they’d be after their date.

All alone at
night with Hawthorne, just him and her and two lonely beds. He scrubbed his
palms across his thighs, and tried desperately not to think that far ahead.

The Omega was
nearly full by the time they arrived and snagged a table in a corner away from
the door. Casey was on floor duty alone. She whizzed through the tables,
smiling and laughing with customers, handing out refills and taking new orders.

She reached
their table and came to an abrupt halt. “I didn’t know he was yours,” she
blurted. “I swear, if I had, I would’ve stayed far, far away and never even
considered flirting with him.”

Hawthorne arched
one delicate eyebrow. Casey paled and fled.

“That’s a neat
trick,” Aaron said. “Though it’d be nice if I didn’t get that same reaction
every time somebody learns we’re working together.”

She turned her
impassive gaze on him. “Those who flee are wise to do so, Aaron Kesselman. I do
not share.”

“We’re not
together, by your choice,” he reminded her.

She lifted one
shoulder in a casual shrug. “During your stay in Tellowee, it would be better
for you to remain under my protection.”

“Is that why you
allowed Isolde to believe we’re lovers?”

“She drew her
own conclusions on that, though the truth is not so far away her belief could
be called a lie. You chose to play along.”

He shrugged and
leaned against the chair’s wooden back. “It seemed like the thing to do at the
time. Plus, it gave me an excuse to kiss you.”

Will came up to
the table, a towel slung over his shoulder, his brows furrowed over glittering
eyes. “Hawthorne, please stop terrorizing my staff. Casey won’t even come out
of the back to work.”

“She should not
flirt with my man.”

Aaron cut an
annoyed glare at her. “I’m not your man.”

“You are under
my protection, which amounts to the same thing.” She blinked, a solemn tilt of
her eyelids over sparkling gray eyes. “As we just agreed.”

He blew out a
breath and ignored Will’s knowing look. “Are all women in Tellowee this
hardheaded?”

“Pretty much,”
Will said. “I tried to warn you.”

“Next time, try
harder.”

Will laughed and
yanked an order pad out of the back pocket of his jeans. “What can I get
y’all?”

They ordered and
ate, made room at the table for people who dropped by to chat or seek
Hawthorne’s counsel. Some of it was simple and some not, and some was so
personal, Aaron wished he could slip away. Negotiating a mating contract, which
he thought might be something like a pre-nup. Advice on whether or not to take
a job in Mongolia among, as one acolyte put it, the “hard savagery of orthodox
Daughters.” A woman who quietly begged for intercession in an abusive marriage.

Aaron did try to
leave then, and was stopped by Hawthorne’s hand on his. So he stayed and he
listened, and the longer he did, the more the woman’s situation pissed him off.
The People’s laws were strict. If he understood them correctly, the woman would
be tied to a post and whipped if she abandoned her husband, regardless of what
he’d done to her. How could anyone abide such treatment of another human being?

He asked Hawthorne
that very question as soon as the woman left.

“It will not
come to that,” she said evenly. “I shall intercede and resolve the situation if
it cannot be resolved satisfactorily.”

“Resolve it,
huh.”

Her face became
a hard mask, cold and unfeeling, though her eyes were hot balls of fury, and he
realized she intended to
resolve
the woman’s problem the same way she’d
resolved her own, with a devastating finality.

Violence wasn’t
the answer. He firmly believed that, or had before he’d met Hawthorne. Now,
after hearing her tale and the story of the woman who’d just left, he wasn’t so
sure. Regardless of whether he believed any of it, the Daughters, the People,
Goddesses and Retribution and centuries-old warriors, the law only went so far
and could sometimes be leveraged unjustly. He witnessed evidence of that every
time he watched the news. Maybe Hawthorne had the right of it when she took
matters into her own hands, especially when answering brutality.

At eight, the
lights dimmed, and not long after, someone called up a slow, bluesy song on the
state of the art jukebox situated near the bar. Couples came together and
drifted onto the dance floor, swaying as one to the beat of the music. Aaron
eyed them with the envy of a man who longed to hold the woman who’d captured
his interest and couldn’t. What would it be like to have Hawthorne like that, to
wrap his arms around her and breathe in the woman who stirred him so easily to
such great heights?

Her hand cupped
his shoulder, startling him with the warm ease of her touch. “Come, Aaron. We
shall dance and cement your position within my household.”

Relief poured
through him, relief and anticipation, and he laughed, couldn’t help it. “Cement
my position, huh? I guess I can go for that.”

They wedged into
a narrow, empty spot on the edge of the crowded parquet dance floor. He held
her as he wanted to, with her hand over the unsteady thump of his heart and
their bodies brushing with each step. Her scent washed over him, the light
aroma of tea roses mingling with whatever it was that made Hawthorne unique.

He eased his arm
around her back and edged her closer. “I like this cementing thing.”

“I thought you
might.” Her breath fanned across his jaw, sending a shiver through him.
“Though, perhaps we should not dance so closely.”

“Forget it. I’m
not letting you go until it’s time to go home, maybe not even then.”

“And should I
object?”

He tilted her
chin up with one finger. “You won’t.”

Her lips parted
and her eyes dropped to his mouth. He cupped her face, mesmerized by the
smooth, alabaster skin and her breath catching softly in her throat. The crowd
around them faded away until they were the only people on the dance floor,
alone with the sensual rhythm of the music filling the air.

“I’ve missed
this,” he said. “Holding you, touching you. Why did you ever let me go?”