The Light and Fallen (7 page)

Samara hadn't spoken to Jack either, but
according to Carin his behavior was the exact opposite of Lucian's.
Even Carin couldn't keep track of who he was dating. Every Monday
when Carin reported on the weekend activities of all their
classmates, she revealed that Jack had made an appearance somewhere
with a different, gorgeous girl. Some of them were other students
from school, but a few had been older girls from out of town.

Carin's biggest complaint was that he hadn't
gotten around to her yet. She no longer had eyes for Jason Stanton;
instead she spent their P.E. classes staring at Jack and devising
plans to catch his attention. "Lucian's a lost cause," she'd sighed
to Samara and Bethanny during a recent class as she gazed wistfully
across the gym. "But getting Jack to ask me out is just a matter of
time."

Bethanny and Samara had tried to point out
that the girls Jack went out with on the weekends were usually in
the bathroom crying on Monday morning, if they came to school at
all, but Carin didn't seem to hear them.

Samara was at her locker the Tuesday morning
before Halloween when Jack slipped up beside her. His hands were
stuck into the pockets of his dark jeans, and he was wearing a
ribbed sweater that was just fitted enough to give a hint of the
body that was underneath. His closeness made her catch her breath,
and she fumbled with the zipper of her bag. She knew that not only
was Jack's attention focused on her, but because he was standing
there she was also attracting the attention of passing
students.

"Let me help you with that." He reached over
and plucked her backpack from her hands, zipped it, and then slung
it over his shoulder as she watched helplessly. "Can I walk you to
class?" he asked. He took the first step before she had a chance to
answer, and she followed him automatically.

"Why are you talking to me?" she burst out,
unable to resist asking.

Jack stopped in the middle of the hallway,
forcing the crowd to part and stream around them. "Do you not want
me to?"

He held out Samara's bag, putting her on the
spot. She felt disarmed looking at his puppy dog expression and
knew that they were now drawing even more attention.

"No. I mean, no, I don't not want you to."
She knew wasn't making sense, but she couldn't seem to get her
thoughts to organize themselves. "Never mind."

Jack started back down the hallway, and she
was surprised that he seemed to know exactly where he was going.
"You're in the office first hour, right?" he asked, seeming to read
her mind.

She nodded mutely, feeling more and more off
center. Jack was acting like being at her locker, knowing her
schedule, was the most natural thing in the world. "How did you
know?"

"Carin. She was waiting for me when I came
out of the locker room last week, and I've seen you sitting with
her in P.E., so I asked her."

Jack came to a smooth stop in front of the
office, but continued to hold Samara's backpack over his shoulder.
"It looks like we're out of time," he said, "so I guess I should
get to point. I was wondering if there was any chance I could get a
tour."

"A tour?" Samara asked. Her voice squeaked,
and she wondered why her throat was betraying her.

"A tour of Wimberley." Jack flashed her a
stunning white smile. "I've only lived here for a few months, but I
hear you grew up here. You'd be the perfect person to show me
around."

Samara looked into his dark gray eyes as he
waited for an answer. She was trying to catch her breath and form
coherent thoughts, but she kept catching whiffs of a deep vanilla
tinged scent whenever he moved. Jack waited patiently, and Samara
was sure he was confident of her answer, but the sound of the first
bell ringing brought her back to reality. She shook her head before
she even realized what she was doing.

"I'm sorry, I don't think that's a good idea.
I have a lot of stuff going on at home right now, and to be honest,
I think Carin would kill me. Why don't you ask her?" She fled into
the office before she could change her mind and sat at her metal
workstation with her back to the door.

She wasn't surprised when Carin walked in and
dropped into the chair opposite her without meeting her eye.
"When's the date?" she asked in a stilted voice.

"He asked me if I would take him on a tour of
Wimberley, but I told him no." Samara's voice sounded hesitant,
even to her own ears.

"Really?" Carin peeked up at Samara.

"Really. I know you've liked him since the
first day of school, plus I don't think he's my type."

Carin snorted, but she appeared to be
cheering up. "What type is that? The tall, rich, incredibly good
looking type?"

"He's too good looking,"

Carin rolled her eyes, but Samara ignored
her. "Really," she said. "He makes me feel like I can't even think
straight."

Carin made a mischievous face. "Sometimes you
don't have to think."

Samara laughed. "That's why I told him you'd
be a better tour guide than me anyway."

Carin's face lit up and she scooted onto the
edge of her chair. "Tell me everything!"

Jack stood outside the front office until the
vice principal waved him off to class. He had never really been all
that interested in Samara, he had just wanted to mess with Carin
and he knew asking her about Samara's schedule would drive her
crazy. But now, Samara had piqued his interest.

The last time anyone had turned him down was
decades ago. He had been at a dance hall in New Orleans one weekend
when he was introduced to the most luscious girl. If he hadn't
known better, he could've easily believed that she was one of the
Host. Other girls had hovered around him, practically panting for
his attention; he could've had any one of them, but instead he'd
lavished his attention on Grace.

He had embarrassed himself trying to woo her.
He'd known she was engaged to a soldier named Bill, but he hadn't
been concerned about that detail. He knew he could offer her more
than any human ever could, and in his experience almost everyone,
men and women, found him irresistible. He still cringed when he
remembered the spectacle he'd made of himself, sending her cards
and flowers and extravagant gifts. It had been weeks before he'd
realized that she wouldn't be tempted.

He had never planned to hurt her fiancé. He'd
just wanted to understand what she could possibly find so
appealing. But when Bill opened his front door, all Jack could see
was that he was ridiculously ordinary. He was short and had a
narrow pointy face that gave him the pinched appearance of a
ferret.

It wasn't Bill's looks that pushed Jack over
the edge though, it was his disposition. Bill had known all about
Jack, about the fact he'd been trying to lure Grace away, but
instead of taking a swing at him or throwing him off his property,
he'd invited him in for a drink. Bill had looked at him with
sympathy.
The idea of Grace wasting her life with that loser
had been too disgusting to tolerate.

The whole situation still irked him. He'd
tracked Grace down a few years ago to satisfy his lingering
curiosity about her. It had taken some work, but he'd finally found
her in the Roaming Meadows Geriatric Facility. He visited her
there, once, but she didn't recognize him. He was in a different
body than when they'd met, but even if he had been unchanged, she
wouldn't have known him.

She had fluffy candy floss hair that wisped
out around her face, and her skin, once so creamy and smooth, was
wrinkled and paper thin. When he stood beside her, she stared
straight ahead with unseeing eyes. He had always remembered her,
she was one of the few things he'd wanted that he couldn't have,
but the visit had depressed him. It had reminded him just how
limited humans were.

He walked slowly down the hallway. The tardy
bell had rung and the hall was empty, but the voices of teachers
and students trickled out of open doors on either side of him as he
passed by. Lucian was his first priority, something Desiree
reminded him of every single night, but as far as Jack could see
Lucian wasn't actually doing anything. All he seemed to do was
drive around for hours.

He had followed Lucian to cemeteries,
libraries, stores, and even a few houses. He never stayed anywhere
longer than an hour, and he never went to the same place twice.
Jack had circled back to investigate the locations, but they all
seemed unrelated.
Lucian doesn't even seem to notice he's being
followed
, Jack thought in irritation.
Or else he just
doesn't care.

Things weren't all bad. He was having some
fun on the side. He really couldn't help himself. Human girls were
so predictable, and he had the distinct advantage of having
thousands of years to perfect his game. Honestly, it was all too
easy. The humans were never much of a challenge, but usually the
Light made him work harder.

This whole task had quickly become the most
boring assignment in eternity, and Samara was the first hint of a
challenge he'd had since he arrived in West Wimberley. He knew
Desiree would tell him he needed to focus, and he told himself he
would try, but he already knew she was going to be too irresistible
to pass up.

The idea that the guardians might be right
was infuriating to Lucian. He was starting to think he would've
been better off if he'd spent the last month doing nothing. He
still wouldn't have accomplished anything, but he might've been
more at peace with that. Instead, his attempts to find the key had
grown more and more erratic and desperate.

He had exhausted every avenue that he could
think of, squeezing the search in between classes and the sleep his
new body seemed to crave. When he was outside of Time he'd never
understood why humans seemed to give up on things so quickly, but
now the idea of not trying, of just giving up, seemed deeply
appealing. Everything was more complicated than he had
expected.

Jack followed him everywhere he went. There
was no way to know for sure, but Duncan had affirmed his suspicions
that Jack was probably a member of the Fallen. He had known the
members of the Light and Fallen tracked one another's movements,
but he had no idea how Jack had marked him so quickly. He could
only assume that Duncan and Sofia's house was always being watched.
He hadn't bothered to try to throw Jack off his trail, but he was
always aware of his presence. He would have to be dealt with.
Soon.

Then there was Samara. Lucian couldn't stop
thinking about her. Even when he was following a lead for the key,
she was in the back of his mind. He had stopped dreaming about the
Timeline; instead he dreamed about her. In his dreams she stood on
a rocky shore with her hair whipping around her and beckoned him to
come to her. Every night he watched her dive, fearless, into the
waves, but he always woke up before he could reach the water's
edge.

Last night's dream had been the most vivid
one yet. He was supposed to be helping Duncan and Sofia with
breakfast, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. He remembered
every detail.

In the dream Samara had been knee deep in the
water. Huge masses of dark, foreboding clouds filled the sky, and
waves whipped around her and smashed into rocks nearer to the
shore. The wind blew a cold mist into his face as he clambered over
the slippery black rocks to reach her. In his dream he had called
out to her, but she slipped away from him, farther and farther into
the sea.

"Watch this!" Duncan called. He was standing
at the stove cooking pancakes on a long griddle pan. He flipped two
of the pancakes high into the air, one after another, and they
landed in a neat stack on a plate next to the stove.

Sofia shook her head and laughed. "And it
only took you a hundred and fifty years to learn that."

She reached over and waved her hand in front
of Lucian's face before she took two eggs out of his hand and
cracked them into a fresh bowl of pancake batter. "Are you with
us?" she asked.

Lucian tried to pull himself back to the
present, away from the memory of Samara sliding beneath the waves.
"Sorry," he said, "my mind was someplace else."

"I saw that," Duncan grumbled. "You missed my
demonstration of pancake skills."

Sofia handed Duncan the bowl of batter and
patted him on the arm. "Keep practicing," she said.

She whipped off her apron and poured two cups
of coffee from the pot brewing on the counter. She handed one cup
to Lucian, then leaned against the counter and crossed her arms.
"Are you ready to talk about it?"

Lucian sighed. "There's not a lot to talk
about. I've tried to find the key, but I don't think I'm any closer
to finding it than the day I first got here."

"You're probably not," Sofia said. "But
that's not what I'm asking." She raised her coffee cup to her lips
and took a small sip.

"Come on," Duncan interjected. "You're not
the first one to get down here and feel a little lost. Spill
it."

"It's Samara," Lucian admitted. "The girl I
met in the office on the first day of school. I can't stop thinking
about her. I dream about her at night. I don't know how to get her
out of my mind."

"Have you talked to her?" Sofia asked.

"No!" he exclaimed. "I've been avoiding her
since August."

"Maybe you should stop."

"I can't." Lucian shook his head. "I can't
let myself get more distracted by her than I already am."

He could feel his hands gripping the coffee
cup tightly and set it down on the counter so it wouldn't shatter
it in his hands. "You know what I have to do."

"Yep." Duncan flipped the last of the
pancakes onto the waiting plate and turned to wipe his hands.