Touching Smoke (14 page)

He raised his head to peer down into my face, uncertainty bright in his eyes. “Did it feel wrong?”

God no! Nothing had ever felt so right.

“It should have,” I said instead. “I drank your blood. What sort of normal, sane person does that?”

I sighed with delirious pleasure when the back of his fingers stroked the side of my face, brushing away a loose curl off my cheek. “The kind that needs it to survive.”

“I don’t drink blood!” I told him, meaning it. “I just need a granola bar.”

He plucked out bits of grass, dried leaves and twigs from my hair. “Normal food doesn’t satisfy you the way this does. I know you feel the difference. You need this,” he tugged down the blood-crusted collar of his t-shirt, exposing his throat. “Just take it!”

“I’m not an animal!” I wasn’t so sure anymore. “I don’t go around biting people and…” I trailed off, not sure I could bring myself to mention the drinking part again.

He sighed, straightening. “We all have a little animal in us,” his thumb traced the curve of my lips, sending a river of longing pooling down into the pit of my stomach. “But I’ll be here whenever you need me.”

I wanted to tell him that I would never be ready, that I would never do that again, but already I wanted to cry as I watched him pull away from me and sit back on his hunches. He reached for the tin box resting a short distance away and handed it to me.

“Let’s head back to the motel and see if we can salvage anything.”

I didn’t argue. Any distraction from the snarling beast inside me was one I was happily going to take.

I accepted the hand he offered, stifling the gasp that lodged in my throat when sharp sparks shot between our touching palms. His only indication that he felt it too was the lace of his long fingers through mine, bringing our palms flush together. I let him lead the way to where his bike lay in wait, hidden behind a thick tuft of brush.

“Have you ever ridden on one of these?” he asked, taking my mother’s ashes from me and folded it in a sweater he removed from the leather saddlebags hanging off the back of the bike. He tucked the tin box gently inside the bag once it was securely wrapped.

I shook my head. “I’ve always wanted to try though.”

He grinned a little. “I think you’ll like it.” He removed his jacket and draped it around my shoulders; I had no idea I was cold until his warmth surrounded me, engulfing me in his rich, irreplaceable scent.

I snuggled beneath the heavy leather, slipping my arms through the sleeves. “Thank—” The rest of my words faltered in my throat when his hand suddenly shot out to touch my face.

The warmth of his fingers sent a delicate shiver down my spine that had my toes curling into the dirt. The rough skin of his thumb lightly scratched my bottom lip with every gentle trace he made back and forth. I scarcely breathed in fear of making him realize what he was doing and stop. I watched with air-compressed lungs and a rampant heart as he stared back at me, boring deeply into my eyes. The intensity sent my head reeling.

“You had a little…” He gestured to his own face in silent indication, and I couldn’t have been more thankful. I didn’t need to know what was on my face. I had enough of a reminder blemishing the side of his neck and darkening the front of his black t-shirt; the crimson stain looked even redder against his golden complexion. “It’s gone now,” he assured me.

“Thank you,” I said, using the back of my hand to scrub the rest of my face for any possible leftover mementoes.

He was grinning when I looked at him again. There was a shiny black helmet in his hand. Without a word, he tucked it over my head and strapped it in place beneath my chin.

“Ready?” He straddled the massive beast, looking right at home.

“As I’ll ever be.”

He offered me his hand and helped me up behind him. I wiggled right up against his back and latched my arms around his middle, lacing my hands together at his rock-hard abdomen. His slacks felt soft and a little damp against my bare thighs. I squished my face the best I could with the helmet on in between his shoulder blades and squeezed my eyes closed.

“Hang on,” he said, revving the engine.

I tightened my hold on him; bracing myself for the jolt I knew was coming. Sure enough, we shot out like a bullet. I didn’t have to look to know we were racing at speeds best left uncalculated. Granted, it was nowhere near as fast as he could be on foot, but I’d heard enough horror stories about people crashing on motorcycles to keep a firm grip on Isaiah.

We bumped and flew most of the way over mounds of dirt and jetting tree roots. It was like being on a rollercoaster without a seatbelt or safety gear. The only thing I had to hang on to was Isaiah and the knowledge that he knew what he was doing.

“I won’t let you fall!” he shouted over the loud roar.

I knew that, I don’t know how, but I did. I had never felt safer than I did when I was with him.

“It’s the bike I’m worried about!” I said out loud.

“She’s perfectly safe,” he assured me, breaking through the trees and onto the highway.

The ground was much smoother once we hit asphalt, and I relaxed my hold on him. The ride wasn’t so bad when I didn’t constantly fear slamming into a tree.

“You have no faith in my abilities,” he teased, twisting his head slightly over his shoulder before turning back to the road.

“I have all the faith in the world in your abilities. It’s everything else around us I don’t trust.”

I could have sworn he chuckled, but the wind carried it away.

It took us no time at all to reach the motel. Isaiah pulled to a stop just down the road from it and cut the engine. I tugged the helmet off.

“What’s the plan?” I asked, studying the empty parking lot carefully.

“The plan is that you stay very close to me.”

That wouldn’t be very hard; the overpowering need to be close to him all the time had yet to leave my system. Since my consumption of his blood only hours ago, all I wanted, needed, craved, and desired was to be with him, to touch him, smell him and just be near him. An unbearable surge of insanity asphyxiated me every time I even considered the possibility of being apart. I could only hope those side effects wore off quickly. I wasn’t sure how much more I could stand. I felt like a heroin addict denied her fix when it was right there, dangling inches from her face.

“All right?” he murmured, turning his head to peer at me from the corner of his eye.

“Yes.”

He nimbly hopped off the bike and offered me his hand. Once both my feet were touching the ground, he pulled me onto his back without a word.

“Glass,” he remarked before I could ask.

I hadn’t noticed the shards of glass mixed with the other debris and bits of rock scattered throughout the road.

“Thank you,” I said.

He turned his head towards me. “Hold on.”

I did, wrapping my arms around his neck.

He didn’t run, barely even jogged, but we were at the motel in under a minute flat. Isaiah never slowed his pace, or glanced around the way they did in the movies, to catch sight of anything suspicious. But I knew he was on high alert; every muscle pressed against me was tense and once or twice, I could have sworn I saw him sniff the air.

“Are you part bloodhound?” I teased.

The corner of his mouth twisted upwards. “Something like that. Now quiet. I’m trying to listen.”

I bit back my chuckle as he inched towards my room. The door stood slightly ajar, leaving no doubt that someone
had
been inside. The thought that I could have been there alone had Isaiah not found me, ripped a shudder from me. My arms tightened.

“I’m going to put you down,” he said in a low whisper. “Stay out of sight.”

The cold concrete stung the bottom of my feet as I was lowered gently to the ground. He pressed me up against the wall next to the door and placed a finger to his lips for silence.

Once assured that I wasn’t going to start singing and tap dancing, he nudged open the door and poked his head inside.

“It looks all clear,” he murmured almost to himself. “Where are your car keys?”

He stopped me when I started to move forward. “On the nightstand,” I replied.

He motioned for me to stay put as he crept inside. I didn’t hear anything for several seconds so when he suddenly appeared again as if out of nowhere, I nearly jumped clean out of my skin. I gulped down my scream.

“Get in the car and lock the doors,” he dropped the keys into my palm. “At the first sign of trouble, drive! Don’t stop and don’t look back.”

“What about you?” I demanded, refusing to go anywhere without him.

He looked directly into my eyes. “I’ll be right behind you.”

“Promise!” I commanded, grabbing his wrist before he could turn away.

The fire in his gaze should have been assurance enough, but I needed to hear him say it.

“I promise.”

Only then was I satisfied. I went to the car and locked myself in, watching through the windshield as Isaiah disappeared inside once more.

A soft drumming filled my ears. It took me a minute to realize it was the sound of my fingers beating nervously against the steering wheel. I dropped my clammy hands into my lap and shifted in my seat. I glanced at the clock, wondering what was taking him so long; I didn’t have that much stuff inside. The thought of taking a quick peek crossed my mind; I could be in and out before anything could happen, but what good could come of that? I didn’t have superhuman strength, speed, or powers. If there was something inside waiting to get me, there was no way I’d be able to defend myself. The chances of getting Isaiah and me killed were higher than me actually being any help.

Yet at the same time, I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing if Isaiah was in trouble. He could need help.

But he told you to stay put!
The irritating voice in my head pointed out.

Yes, but…

He was so going to kill me, I thought miserably. I twisted around in my seat to grabbing my sandals off the floor in the back along with the steel baseball bat Mom liked keeping around for emergencies. I slipped my flip-flops on and threw open the door, baseball bat in one hand and my keys in the other. I stuffed my keys into my pocket to get a firmer grip on the bat.

The rubber grip felt uncomfortable between my sweaty palms, but I put the bat against my shoulder as if prepared to swing and inched quietly to the door.

No sound emanated from inside, not even the rustle of clothes or the shuffle of feet against the urine-colored carpet. Isaiah was stealthy, but even he couldn’t be
that
silent, could he?

Bottom lip caught between my teeth, I slipped inside, pausing a second to allow my eyes time to adjust to the semi-darkness.

The main room was empty, which meant Isaiah had to be in the only other room there, the bathroom. I considered calling him, but if he was in trouble, covertness was my best friend. Every bone in my body was braced for whatever I was about to find. My heart ricocheted against my ribcage, threatening to pop clean out of my chest at any moment. I slicked my lips and adjusted the bat more securely against my shoulder.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in the car?” The voice appeared out of nowhere, tearing an earsplitting shriek from me.

I didn’t even pause to second guess my next move; I spun around and swung with all my might. But I probably should have done it with my eyes open because whatever I struck with a sickening clunk of steel against meat sent a ribbon of pain shooting up both my arms. My eyes snapped open, another scream lodged in my throat.

Isaiah stared back at me with a mixture of amusement and annoyance; my bat held firmly in his hand, mere inches from the side of his head.

“That would have been a home run if you’d done it with your eyes open,” he commented, teeth flashing between his curved lips.

“OhmiGod!” I gasped, releasing the bat and pressing both hands to my panicking heart. “I could have killed you!”

He continued to grin, whacking the palm of his left hand with the bat. “You could have. You should be thoroughly ashamed of yourself.”

I swallowed hard, looking him over. “Are you okay?”

“And if I wasn’t?”

“I am so sorry!”

He arched a brow. “For not listening to me, or for trying to bash my brains in?”

I really had to think about that one before answering sheepishly, “Trying to bash your brains in?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Figures.”

“Hey, you’re the one who snuck up on me!” I stated defensively.

He chuckled. “Come on. There’s nothing here.”

With my baseball bat in one hand, he picked up my duffle with the other and tossed it over his shoulder.

I quickly rolled and tucked my sleeping bag and pillows under my arms and followed him to the door.

“Where do you suppose—?” That’s as far as my question got when a large, hulking shadow filled the doorway… and multiplied before our eyes.

“Fallon, run!”

The bedding fell from my arms without a sound. I bounded over the bundle and lunged for the bathroom with my heart hammering in my throat. My foot caught the corner of my sleeping bag and I stumbled once before righting myself and making it to the bathroom doorway.