The Alignment (16 page)

“They believe that I, or actually, my heir, will lead to their downfall. The bargain was, they give me immortality, I never father a child.” He studies my face for a moment before turning away. “I never asked for it, but you don’t really question them. I suppose they considered it a fair trade.” He waits as if to gauge my reaction again. “I met Kate when I was twenty-five. We got married a few years later. We were careful, followed all the rules, but she got pregnant. No one seemed to mind at first. They said they would find a way to make it work out, that the prophecy could be wrong. The baby was born. A son. We named him Aaron. Four weeks later, they took Aaron and Kate away from me, and they killed them.”

My hands cover my mouth in reflex. I lower them, searching for his. He takes both my hands and leans toward me.

“Don’t get upset just yet. Let me finish. There’s no easy way to put this. When I found out it was them who did it, I lost it. I killed so many—I was better trained than all of them. And then I left. They’ve been hunting me for fifteen years, but as I told you before, they aren’t trying to kill me. They won’t because of the effect. That’s what they call it. My gift of immortality.”

“Could they kill you if they wanted to?”

“Sure. A couple well-placed bullets and I wouldn’t have time to heal. But they’d never do that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m too valuable to them. They expect me to get over it all and come back. And my father. He won’t let them.”

“What are they trying to do? Capture you?”

“No. They don’t want me back unless I’m their servant. Unless they can trust me. They want to make sure I never have children. If you can imagine.”

I can imagine. And I doubt they would use anesthesia.

“And you’re probably thinking they’d settle on a simple snip, and then leave me alone. Not exactly. My body would heal that. And any doctor could reverse it nowadays. They want them cut out.” He laughs bitterly.

“That explains your hostility.” I’m unable to imagine what it must be like to have people after him for
that
.

“And this is why they’re after you now. It’s their agenda to destroy any woman I show the slightest interest in. They’ve made it clear this will continue, even if they get what they want from me, as a punishment for disobeying them.”

The danger settles into my heart like a heavy stone. I’m not just rooming with the target anymore. I am the target.

“So now I’m cursed, too.”

“You could call it that. But there’s more to it.” He stands.

“More to what?”

“Us.”

Memories of that night pulse through me. That first unexpected, perfect kiss. The husky scent of his skin. His soft hair, brushing against my arm. His gentle lips moving down my back. The strong force of his body against mine. His hands, grasping my hips. Falling asleep against him. The greeting of his satisfied smile in the morning.

“I have proof,” he says. “It should be my fault for bringing you into this. But I can’t take all the blame, if you believe in their bullshit, which I normally don’t. This particular one just explains too much. It’s stuck with me.”

He walks over to the armchair and brings a book back to the couch. The book, bound in a faded fabric cover and wound with a strap, must have come from the basement. The gold seal on the cover looks like an ancient Celtic symbol.

“This is one of our texts. A few nights ago I remembered a passage from it. To help make sense of things.”

Interested, I scoot toward the book in his lap. It’s also a good excuse to be closer to him.

“Make sense of things?” I prompt. He seems to have forgotten what he was going to say.

“Yeah. Of what happened to us. After hating each other like we did.”

I laugh. “It is a little strange, isn’t it?”

“Not if you read this. I wish it was in English so you could read it.”

He opens the book, finds the page, and turns it around so I can see it. The words are not any language I recognize.

“I can’t read that.” I point out the obvious.

“I was going to translate.” He spins the book back around and studies the page. Flips forward a page, then back a page. “A lot of this doesn’t translate well into English. But I can give you an analogy.”

“Okay.” If he’s dragging it out to build suspense, it’s working.

“Imagine people as magnets. If you take two magnets and try to stick them together with the same poles facing, they will repel one another. But if you turn one around, so their poles are opposite, they attract.” He pokes the page. “Similar concept, only it’s biological. Human.”

I cock my head at him. He’s lost me.

“I’m a magnet. My energy is flowing positive side out. Your energy is flowing positive side out, too. We can’t stand to be around each other. Then I fall off the roof and hit my head, and my energy flow is switched. Now I’m negative out. We attract.”

“Wow.” It’s all I can say. I need to think about this.

“It’s more complicated than that. Not simply positive and negative, but many different types of human energy determined by each person’s bloodline. But stripped down that’s the concept.”

“So it’s out of our control.”

“According to this, yes.”

“And that explains why I was so sick around you all the time. We shouldn’t have been so close.”

“Yes. And you irritated the hell out of me. Then after I woke up, everything was different.”

“Wow,” I say again.

“Yeah, wow.” The excitement in his face is unmistakable.

“So you’re off the hook?”

“Not completely, but a little.” He grins.

“Because you still ran the light.”

“Yes. But I’m saying that was fate.” He’s suddenly serious. “I normally don’t believe in this stuff. But it’s the only thing I can go on right now. The change between us was too intense.”

“I didn’t think there could even
be
an explanation.” It shouldn’t excuse what he tried to do to me, what he would’ve done if I hadn’t stopped him. But something about me must have changed too, because the man I saw that day doesn’t exist anymore. I’ve somehow slid under a gate. I’m on the inside now, standing beside the monster instead of confronting him. It’s a different story when he’s on your side. When his loyalty is so strong it’s shifted your place in reality.

He stares off into the room and I worry he’s about to withdraw like he did last night.

“So you felt the difference right from that day you woke up too?” I ask.

The moment draws out. His eyes remain focused on something far away only he can see. Just when I fear he’s closed himself off to me, he returns. “Yes, but I was in denial. I wanted to fight it, because I was dead set on not repeating the past. I didn’t want anyone I could lose to them all over again. But now? Screw them.” A menacing smile hits his face. “Want something to drink?”

Chapter 19

Trey

S
he stands with
me. My analogy proves to be more realistic than I thought—her body has some kind of intense magnetic pull on mine. She needs to know the entirety of our situation before I so much as touch her again. To explain that, I need a drink.

She’s about to seduce me, so I look at her hard. “Sit.”

“Just a glass of water then,” she says, sulking.

I bring my scotch and her water back and set them on the coffee table. I throw a few logs on the waning fire. She’s examining her newly healed leg.

“Unbelievable,” she whispers.

“You get used to it.”

“What else can you do?”

I watch her a moment. She seems genuinely interested, not just hoping for a freak show. Or maybe she wants me to prove it in live action. I take a handful of ash from the fireplace. Her expression is neutral when I sit beside her and push her sleeve up to her shoulder. I slide my ash-coated palm down the length of her arm, leaving a trail of curling design etched on her skin like a henna tattoo. It’s a technique of my ancestors. I don’t remember its purpose.

She twists her arm, admiring my work. “Nice. But can you do anything…more useful?”

“If you stick around, you’ll find out.” I blow off the excess and wipe my hand on my jeans.

“I think I have already decided. I’m staying. At least until the lust goes away.” She traces the design absentmindedly. If she notices it disappearing under her finger, she gives no indication.

“Don’t decide until I tell you what I learned from Christian.” I take a drink, followed by another. She pulls her knees up, resting her chin.

“Christian. He really is like a brother to me. He and my mother are the only two of them I can trust.” I try to gather my thoughts. There has to be a way to speak these words and keep my calm.

“He came here, to tell me in person, that Kate and Aaron are both alive.”

She makes no initial response. She looks down into her glass for a moment before looking back up at me. Her voice is thick when she speaks. “I am so sorry.”

“How did you know?” Her unexpected reaction has managed to flatten something coiling inside me.

“I didn’t. But I accidentally overheard you and Christian yesterday. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You don’t need to be sorry!” My voice rises without my consent. “You don’t need to be sorry,” I repeat, softer this time.

“I just… I can imagine how it would feel if I found out people I loved were alive this whole time.” She has a far-off look in her eyes.

“How would you feel?” I hear myself asking.

“Robbed,” she says without hesitation.

“That’s a good way to put it. Especially when you know who to blame.” My words grind together, grating against my calm. My train of thought lurches forward, causing my fist to slam against the coffee table. “Why didn’t she contact me? I don’t care what the situation was, if it was me instead of her, I would have found a way to make contact.” I take another deep breath. I didn’t want this to turn into me raging. I’m taking it out on the wrong person.

We sit in silence as I try to repel the wild fury taking command of my mind. It’s minutes before I can speak again. “So, I’m still married.”

“Yes.” The light in her eyes is dim. “And your wife and son are alive.”

“My son won’t even know who I am!” My voice rises again, and I reflexively reach out to take her hand in an effort to subdue the rage held behind a paper thin wall. “I’m sorry. God.”

“It’s okay.” She places her free hand over my knuckles.

A fresh layer of guilt settles on me. This news can only make her feel like a decision has been made. Like there’s one natural outcome. I don’t know how to make it better, but I have to try. “She left me. That’s how I see it. I have no ties to her anymore.”

Her expression turns thoughtful for a moment. “But you don’t truly know the situation.”

“No, I don’t. But I know her. And until I know any different…” I’ll have to hear it from her. She has to tell me she wasn’t involved. I won’t take it from anyone else. And her explanation better be damn good. Not that it even matters now.

“What are you going to do?”

I pull my hand away. “I don’t know yet. But she’s completely insane if she thinks I’m going to come running back to her.” I stop, bowing my head. I don’t know why I keep doing that. “Tell me what happened to your family.” I want to know her past now that she knows mine.

She gives me an uneasy look and drops her feet to the floor. “It’s very dull compared to your story. I was married, too. I had a daughter. Six months ago, she died. She was nine months old. And then my husband left me.”

“He
left
? Nice guy.” I can’t imagine anyone leaving her after something like that. There are so many ways I could make him suffer. It’s hard to visualize specifics without knowing what he looks like.

“Yes. With no explanation. He was just gone one day. He must have come home from work early, packed his things, and left. He wouldn’t answer my calls. I never heard from him again.”

“So we’re both married and screwing around.” I could crush his throat with my hand.

“I suppose so.” Her voice sounds like it will tear in two.

I can’t decide if this makes it better or worse, but the similarity in our stories is shocking. “How did we find each other?” My laugh is cold.

“You ran a red light.” She looks up at me with that teasing look in her eyes.

My control fails. I take her face in my hands and kiss her. A wildfire spreads through my body. She leans into me, weakening my restraint further. Her arms wind around me, and as my back makes contact with the seat of the couch, I know this can’t happen. I have to stop it, but I am powerless. She runs her hands underneath my shirt, and I remember something I have to tell her.

“Wait,” I gasp, holding her away from me. She opens her eyes. Her lips are parted, her breathing heavy. There’s no word in any language I know to describe her beauty.

“Wait,” I say again, more to myself this time. I sit up, moving her back into a sitting position. We can’t do this. She has to know. “I’m forty-five.” I struggle against the memory, the feeling, of being wrapped within her legs. I can’t live with myself until she knows it all.

“What?”

“I’m forty-five years old.”

“No you’re not.”

“Yes. Aaron is alive. The effect didn’t apply to me this whole time. This whole time I thought I wasn’t aging, and I was.”

She shakes her head. “There must be some mistake. You look like you’re twenty-five. And what about the healing?”

She’s right. The healing. And my effortless survival, when I should have been killed so many times.

“And those scars you have. Some of those should have been fatal.” She must be reading my mind.

“Maybe it’s dependent on my knowing he’s alive.” This detail hadn’t occurred to me until now. I’m so used to my superior state of health it’s hard to remember it’s not normal.

“It could be anything. Can you really trust what they told you?”

She has a point. “So you believe all this?”

“Hmm. I guess I do. I just don’t see why you’d make it all up. Is that foolish of me?”

“No.” I smile at her. “We can’t have sex anymore,” I add, dropping my smile.

She doesn’t look convinced. She unleashes her eyes on me. The pull is almost unbearable.

“Please. You can’t do that.”

“Do what?” she asks innocently.

She can’t be unaware of what she does to me. Maybe it isn’t her fault at all. Maybe it’s all me, and my pathetic lack of self-discipline.

“We don’t have to take it all the way.” It’s an offer. An irresistible seduction.

And I know myself well enough to know it doesn’t work that way with me. “Yes, we would. I have no self-control. And you can’t stop me.”

“Sounds like fun.” She’s turned my comment against me in order to tempt me further.

“Stop talking about it.” I rub my face with both hands—a vain attempt to vaporize the mental images of her bare skin against mine. “I have a bad habit of getting women pregnant when there’s no way I could have. There could be other magic I don’t know about. There could be—it’s just not worth it to screw around. You probably shouldn’t even be sitting so close to me.”

She pouts.

“It’s getting late.” As much as I hate for this night to end.

“I know.” Her voice is full of disappointment.

Silence creeps between us, and I reflect on how drastically my life has changed since our first encounter. That day feels like a dream, like those memories belong to another person, a person who had no reason to exist. I have a purpose now. I feel vibrant and alive.

“Do you need some time to absorb all of this?” I search her face.

“Actually, no. I feel very much at ease. Settled. Is that weird?”

I wonder if I should give her time anyway. But that time could be used in other ways. If she agrees, we have a lot of work ahead of us.

“Nothing’s really changed,” she adds. “I knew there was something strange about you the whole time. Now I just know the details.”

“So you’re okay with me dropping another bomb on you?”

“If I’ve made it this far, I don’t think there’s anything left that could surprise me.” She seems lifted, eager for me to continue.

“You’re a glutton for punishment.”

“There are ways you could make it up to me.” She raises one eyebrow.

Her suggestion is clear. Much too clear. “We can’t. There’s too much at stake, too many loose ends. Once I get those tied up, we can move on. You don’t want to sleep on all of this first?”

“No. It won’t change anything.”

“I need to see Aaron. Seeing him involves seeing Kate, and I do have some words for her. I have to go see them.” I look into her cool, patient eyes. “And I want you to come with me.”

Finally something that seems to surprise her. “You want me to go with you to visit your estranged wife?”

“She left me. Remember that. She hid from me for fifteen years.”

“Yes, but—”

“And I can’t leave you alone here. I can’t go unless you come with me.”

“Where would we be going?”

“Virginia.”

Pressuring her may be unfair, but I know it’s the only way we can move on together. I’ll never allow myself to be with her with this looming over me. But I have to be honest. “And before you agree, I have to tell you it’s going to be dangerous. They’ll be expecting a fight.”

She laughs and leans back against the pillow behind her. “You can’t be serious. Do I look like I’m capable—”

“I can make you as capable as you need to be.”

She smiles at me, shaking her head.

“Trust me. They’ll have zero chance against the two of us.” I can’t help but feel excited by the image of Liv and me, storming in there, side by side. I’ve always worked alone. This is going to be new for me, too.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But you’re cute when you’re keyed up like this.”

“So what do you say?” I ask.

“I’m not exactly sure what you’re asking me. But it sounds like I have two options. Stay here and wait for them to hunt me down, or go with you and walk into a war.”

“With the two biggest weapons imaginable.”

“I guess I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Is that a yes?”

She runs her knuckles back and forth across her lips. “What exactly will happen?”

“You’re going to have to trust me.”

She places her elbow against the couch, rests her chin against her fist, and sighs. “I trust people too easily. I made a promise to myself to stop doing it. To be more careful. And I was doing pretty well until you came along.”

“You can trust me.” I understand her hesitation. I don’t exactly have a great track record with her. Or anyone.

“Anybody can say that. How do I know you’re not a psycho homicidal maniac?”

“You already know I am a psycho homicidal maniac.”

She laughs and shakes her head. “True.”

“But at least I’m honest,” I add to strengthen my argument.

She looks at me for a long time before she asks, “If you were me, would you say yes?”

“Without a doubt.”

“Okay then I’m in. I have no idea what I’m in on, but I’m in. I have nothing to lose. And you might need me to save your life again.”

I stand abruptly, ready to begin now. Realizing it’s still the middle of the night, I offer her my hand. She puts her hand in mine and I pull her up.

“I guess we should probably sleep.”

She watches my lips speak the words. “Are you sure there isn’t something else you’d rather do first?” she asks my lips.

“You are killing me,” I groan.

We take turns in the bathroom. When I come out, she’s undressing in the bedroom.

“I’m closing the door.” And I do, knowing it would only slow me down.

Back in the living room, I lie on the couch, envisioning my life at a crossroads, only I’m already proceeding down my chosen path. And I have never felt more confident about anything in my entire life.

*

We stand in front of the garden lit by slanted morning sun.

“You’re really going to make me do heavy labor? What does this have to do with visiting your crazy relatives again?”

“Gardening is not heavy labor. It has to be done before we go. I’ve been neglecting it too long. Just think of it as combat training warm-up.”

She gives me a what-have-I-gotten-myself-into look.

I aim my thumb at the tractor tire, the best exercise aside from actual combat. “Unless you’d rather flip that tire down the yard a few times.”

She looks back and forth between me and the tire before stomping off toward the potatoes. After I’ve worked my way down one row of herbs, she hollers, “I have no idea what to do!”

I head toward her. “You’re such a spoiled city girl, aren’t you?”

She punches me in the stomach and I fake pain. “Now you’re going to have to do it all yourself. I’m injured.” She starts to kick me and I catch her leg. Her face breaks into laughter—a lure that traps me again. It’s a fight back to freedom when all I want is to be stuck in that trap.

After removing the covers of the cold frames, I show her how to dig potatoes and carrots, and how to pick ripe squash, cucumbers, and cabbage. Once she has the hang of it, I go back to weeding and working on the herbs. I can’t help but notice she’s enjoying herself.