Witches (Runes series Book 6) (25 page)

“That you two are next door neighbors,” Beau said. “So you live here with your parents?”

“No.” Torin didn’t bother to explain. He focused on me instead. “Are you using the kitchen or the dining room?”

“Dining room. Come on, Beau.”

I was sure Torin would hover, or worse, pull out a chair and join us just to be difficult, but he disappeared into the garage. Tinkering with his bike was his favorite pastime.

“So he lives here with his parents?” Beau asked.

“No. They’re in England. In fact his father, the Earl, was here a few days ago to visit.” Wow, nice. I could never lie to save my butt. My eyes met Torin’s. He’d come back inside the house and was shamelessly listening to our conversation. He shook his head.

Beau was facing me and didn’t see him. “So he’s some kind of royalty?”

“Nobility,” I said.

“What’s the difference?”

“Royalties are blood relatives of the king and queen. Nobility has to do with titles. So what do the tattoos on your arm mean?” I asked to distract him. He wasn’t stupid and might want to know more about Torin’s family. The present Earl of Worthington didn’t even know of Torin’s existence or his father’s.

Beau rolled up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and flexed his arm. In the kitchen, Torin leaned against the counter and rolled his eyes.

“What do you think they mean?” Beau asked.

“The butterfly is a symbol of the soul in many cultures. It emerges from a cocoon after being a lowly worm. A soul is believed to change with time too. So the tattoo must mean something happened to make you change for the better. I’m not sure what a snarling dog with red eyes means. Anger?”

He smirked. “Not bad.”

“But the way the butterfly overshadows the dog says there’s a connection between the two. And the last one is a dream catcher. In Native American mythology, they catch the bad dreams and let in the good.”

Silence followed, then I realized I had slipped. The dream catcher was on his shoulders and covered his left chest. Only one of the dangling feathers was visible on his arm and no one would be able to tell what it was from that. I’d seen all his tattoos while I was at his place.

“That was amazing,” he said, his eyes studying me with a speculative gleam.

“Was I right?”

“How did you know about the dream catcher?”

I should have known he wouldn’t let me get away with that. “During baseball,” I said, stammering.

He smirked. “What about it?”

“Well, you guys sometimes run around shirtless. I must have seen it then.”

“So you’ve been checking me out?”

I rolled my eyes. “No.”

The smile he gave me said he didn’t believe me, but I’d rather he thought I’d checked him out than the truth. He pulled down his sleeve, and then he lifted up his bag and removed the books.

For the next hour, we went over the chapters he’d read since yesterday. He was serious about finishing the book by next Friday and ahead of his class. Torin got tired of keeping an eye on us and left. Soon after, sounds came from the garage. The hour crept by. I got us sodas and water. An hour turned into one and half.

“That was amazing. Now I can go clubbing without feeling guilty,” Beau said, packing up his things.

“Where are you going?”

“We haven’t decided yet. Do you want to come with us?” he asked and wiggled his eyebrows. “You can bring Torin.” Or not was implied.

“No, thanks. I have…” I almost said I had lessons. “To help my mom and Femi take care of my dad.”

His expression grew serious. “How is he doing?”

I shrugged. “Pretty well, actually, but it’s terminal and he doesn’t have long.”

Beau shook his head. “I don’t know how you can stay so positive and nice. I’d be fu… a total mess.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re a survivor, Beau. Besides, death can sometimes be merciful. My father won’t have any more pain, and his soul can finally rest in a better place.”

He studied me as though seeing me for the first time, then rubbed his nape, pink coloring his chiseled cheeks. He looked down and murmured, “You’re a lot different than what I thought.”

I made a face. “What do you mean?”

A lopsided grin curled his lips. “A girl like you is supposed to be the Queen B. I mean you’re hot, the most popular girl at school, and you happen to date him,”—he jerked his thumb toward the garage—“Mr. Royal Blood.”

“Noble,” I corrected, laughing.

“Same difference. I thought you agreed to help me just to get something to write about in college essays or to tell your friends that you were helping the school’s fuck up, but you’re nice and sweet. I mean, you’re just like a normal girl.”

I laughed and punched the air. “Yes!”

“What?” he asked looking thoroughly confused.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long time. Normal. Yeah, I like being normal.” I wagged my finger at him. “But just so we’re clear. You’re not a fuck up, and if anyone asks why I’m doing this, it’s because I can have something to write in my college essay. I have a rep to protect too.”

Beau laughed. I walked him to the door. A thoughtful expression settled on his face when we stopped. Then he appeared to come to some decision because he smiled.

“You were right about my tats.” He yanked off his sweatshirt and tucked the sleeve of his T-shirt. “This,” he pointed at the snarling dog near his wrist, “represents my father. He left when I was five, a year after my sister Becca was born with a rare genetic disease. He couldn’t handle the fact that she wasn’t perfect. She died when I was twelve.” He pointed at the butterfly hovering above the dog, overshadowing it in beauty and size. “That’s Becca. Death freed her from pain and the vicious people who pointed and stared. She was beautiful. People didn’t see how her smile lit up a room. How sweet and kind she was, how pure her heart was.” He smiled, his eyes full of nostalgia. “She loved dream catchers. Hers is keeping my demons away.”

My throat closed and I tried hard not to show it. “Do you see your father?”

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “Nah. He plays for the Muckdogs, but I plan to become a better player than he’ll ever be.”

I had no idea who the Muckdogs were, but I now knew what motivated Beau and it was heartbreaking. If he failed, then what? Torin entered the house, saw us, and paused when he saw us standing by the door. I gave him a weak smile.

“Thanks for the food, man,” Beau called out to Torin and patted his stomach. “Good stuff. I’ll see you Monday after school, Raine,” he added, his attention shifting to me.

I nodded and opened the door. Then I saw his truck. “Oh, you’re driving…” I caught myself before saying your father’s truck. “A new truck?” I finished.

“Hardly new. It’s my stepfather’s Dodge. Mine conked out, so he let me borrow his.” He chuckled. “Which is like saying turtles flew today.”

Somehow I knew what he meant. His stepfather had surprised him. Maybe our conversation had finally penetrated the old man’s thick skull. I waved to Beau as he took off then went back inside the house.

“An hour and a half?” Torin asked.

I ignored his griping, walked to where he stood wiping his hands on a paper towel, and hugged him. “The world is a cruel, cruel place. That guy has been through so much.”

“You’re getting too close, Freckles. The trick is to help them without becoming emotionally involved.”

Easy for him to say.
I trust you. Completely.
He’d lied. The display at school today was all about putting Beau in his place. I might have been insecure about us, but he was possessive. His behavior this evening just confirmed it.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the family room couch and sat on his lap. “Just hold me and never let go.”

He chuckled. “I don’t intend to.” It was a while before he asked, “Tell me what’s wrong with him.”

“There’s nothing
wrong
with Beau. He’s on the right track, and I am going to make sure he stays on it if it’s the last thing I do.”

Torin groaned. “I was afraid of that.” He planted a kiss on my temple. “How about I make us popcorn while you pick a movie?”

“Really?” He always bitched about my selection. I got up and went for the remote. “Anything?”

“As long as it’s not reruns of
Supernatural
.”

“Aw, come on. I didn’t complain when I sat through five Furious This and Furious That movies.”

He laughed. “That’s because you fell asleep. No Supernatural.”

“Oh crap! Lavania.” I raced to the mirror portal and engaged my runes at the same time. It opened into the mansion’s foyer.

The lights were on, but the mansion was too quiet. “Anybody home?” I called out, angled my head, and listened. “Andris? Ingrid?”

A door opened upstairs and Lavania appeared in the balcony. I met her at the foot of the stairs.

“About your premonition…”

“It’s okay. I’m not going to stop it and interfere with Torin’s case.”

She smiled. “Good girl. It’s not going to be easy doing what you do, honey. You’ll have to choose your battles. And even then, you’ll win some and lose some.”

Beau’s face flashed in my head. “No. I plan to win the battles I choose.”

She chuckled. “Spoken like a true teenager. Sometimes I forget you’re one. Okay. No lessons tomorrow. I have to talk to the Council about something. I might have some good news to share when I come back.”

I hoped it was about Andris becoming Torin’s partner. “Well. Knock ’em dead.” I waved and headed for the portal.

“How’s your tutoring?”

I stopped just before using the portal. “It’s going great.”

“Make sure you don’t get too attached to him.”

Lavania too? “I won’t.”

~*~

Coffee woke me up. There was a cup by my bed and it was still hot, which meant Torin had just left. Onyx was curled up at the foot of my bed, cleaning herself.

“Good morning, Onyx.”

Is it?

Okay, she was in one of her moods. I got up and walked to the window. When I didn’t see Torin, I headed downstairs. The smell of something burning reached me, and I knew Mom must be cooking
.

Sure enough, I entered the kitchen to find her cracking eggs, and something was bubbling on the stovetop. She was still in her pajamas, flowing lingerie, and a matching robe.

“Something smells good,” I fibbed, turning off the stove. Whatever she was cooking had spilled over. Worse, it looked like puke.

“Morning, sweetheart.” She cracked an egg. “Did you bring your laundry downstairs?”

“No.” I looked around. “Is Femi with Dad?”

“She’ll be here. I’m taking care of you and your dad this morning before I head to Seattle to check on things. I’m only going to be gone for a few hours, then I need to talk to Hawk.” She picked up a whisk and started beating the eggs. The bowl was slowly creeping toward the edge of the counter. I watched it with morbid fascination. “Oh, and I promised your father we’d go for a drive today. It’s a beautiful day. Did you know Torin took him out yesterday while Femi was out shopping? You have a winner there, hun. Can you check on that?” She pointed towards the stove.

My head was starting to spin from the way she hopped from topic to topic. I had no idea Torin took Dad for drives, but it explained why he’d borrowed my car.

I studied the mess. “What is this supposed to be, Mom?”

She chuckled. “Cream of Wheat?”

More like lumps of wheat. I used the spoon she’d set by the stove and tried to stir the mixture. It was stuck to the pan. I dumped the whole thing in the sink and got a different pot, and started another batch. Dad’s appetite had improved, but he was still on a low-fiber diet.

“Oh no, it got overcooked?” Mom wailed when she saw the pot in the sink.

“Yep. Why don’t you let me finish here while you, uh, get ready for reaping?”

She looked relieved. “You sure?”

“Dad likes my omelets better than Femi’s,” I fibbed.

“Thanks, sweetheart. The bacon is in the microwave.” She blew me a kiss and took off. Just before she headed upstairs, she stopped. “Did Torin tell you where he and Andris were headed so early in the morning?”

“No.” I got out my cell phone and called Torin. It went unanswered. I tried Andris. Again, no response. Strange. He and his cell phone were joined at the hip.

I finished making the Cream of Wheat and omelet. The bacon might be in the microwave, but she hadn’t started it. I hated microwaved bacon. I threw some in a pan.
 
Breakfast was almost ready when Dad walked out of the bedroom. I hadn’t seen him on his feet in weeks.

“Are you sure you should be doing that?” I asked, hurrying to his side. I put an arm around his waist.

“What do you think Femi and I do when you’re at school?” He put an arm around my shoulder. “We run and jog, and throw parties.”

“Ha-ha, very funny.” I waited until he sat, handed him the paper, then finished with the bacon. He put aside the newspaper when I joined him.