Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series) (29 page)

‘Pity, it really is a lovely dress.’

‘Thanks,’ I say, rubbing at the wet patch. The paper
towels don’t seem to be helping much though. They’re too thin and keep
disintegrating into messy strips.

‘You know, a towel would work much better,’ Mrs.
Whitcomb says. ‘There should be one in the kitchen.’

‘Oh, where’s that?’ I ask, giving up on the paper
towels.

‘Come, I’ll show you,’ she says with a smile.

I follow her out of the ladies, down a short corridor
into a huge industrial kitchen laid out with stainless steel counters and sinks.
Mrs. Whitcomb takes a white dishtowel from a hook beside one of the sinks and
hands it to me.

‘Thanks,’ I say.

‘No problem,’ she replies, ‘I’ll see you back inside.’

I shoot her a grateful smile and rub the towel over the
mess as her footsteps retreat from the tiled kitchen.

One minute, I’m leaning over my skirt, the next, there
is gloved hand over my mouth and another clamped around my waist. I let out a
startled scream, but it’s barely audible beneath the leather that is all but
smothering me.

My captor begins to drag me backwards, toward the
entrance at the far side of the kitchen and I react instinctively, kicking out
with my legs and biting down on his hand.

The man swears and pulls his hand away quickly. I don’t
waste the opportunity. I take a deep breath and scream as loud as I possibly
can. I catch a glimpse of the hooded figure just before my scream is cut short
as the man slams his hand into my face. The blow snaps my head to the side. Pain
shoots across the right side of my face. I yelp and he slaps a hand over my
mouth again.

‘Don’t even think about doing that again,’ he warns,
breath hot against my ear. ‘I’ll snap you in two.’

His voice is a low growl and the sound of it raises
goose-bumps up and down my arms. He starts to push me toward the door, but I
dig my heels in and drop my weight against him. The man struggles forward a few
steps, swears, turns around and starts dragging me backwards toward the
entrance.
  

My heartbeat accelerates with each step we move. I can
barely breathe with the leather-clad hand covering both my mouth and my nose
and the lack of oxygen only heightens my panic. I scream again but the sound is
pathetically muffled. I kick backwards against his shins and push at the steel
band around my waist but he just grunts, lifts me off the ground and moves
quickly toward the door.
 

I stare desperately at the door into the corridor. I
need to stop him before we reach the exit. I know enough from self defense
classes to understand that if he gets me out of that door – I’m as good as dead.

Chapter
48

Out of control

Tastes like: Slippery
jello.

Smells like: Tires burning.

Sounds like: A gasp.

Feels like: Weightlessness.

Looks
like: A car careening off the side of a road.

My attacker has me right at the exit. He legs go of my
mouth to open the door and I waste no time letting loose another blood-curdling
scream. I throw my head back and feel it crack against his skull. Pain shoots
through me, but I ignore it and focus on the millisecond reprieve I’ve created
as my captor curses and let’s his hold on me slacken just a little.

I turn into him and away, but I’m not quick enough. As I
launch myself in the opposite direction, he grabs my wrist, crushes it and
twists it behind my back. White hot pain sears through me and I hear bone crack.
A scream of pain escapes my lips as he uses my arm, the same one that was
injured in the cycling accident, to draw me back against him.
 
 

My vision tunnels and moisture gathers in my eyes. All I
can think about is the agony shooting from my wrist. He laughs, a cruel and
triumphant sound, and pulls me back toward the door and I go, like a kitten,
willing to do anything to release the pressure. Dark spots swim before my eyes
as he shoves me through the door. Through the tears rolling down my face, I see
the outline of a black car against the curb, but all I can do is whimper and let
him shove me toward it.
 

There is a loud crash behind us and my captor turns,
swinging my body around in front of him, like a human shield. The movement
sends more waves of nauseating pain radiating through me and my legs give out.

As I sink to the pavement, I see Kael as I’ve never seen
him before. His eyes meet mine and then flick down over me, narrowing on my
swollen eye and injured arm. He bares his teeth, eyes flashing and hurtles toward
us.

‘Get in!’ someone shouts from behind the wheel of the
black car, ‘It’s too late.’

The man swears and shoves me forward, into Kael’s path.
Without missing a beat, Kael throws his arms around me and my momentum takes us
down. He twists to take the brunt of the fall and I land, sprawled atop him.

I hear the squeal of tires as my attacker makes his
escape, but Kael doesn’t seem to care. His full attention is on me as he sits,
with me on his lap and reaches for my hand. I whimper again and cradle my arm
against my chest, out of his reach. I know he just wants to help but I can’t
stand another failed healing attempt right now.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks.

I open my mouth to say ‘yes’ but end up shaking my head instead
as my body begins to tremble. Kael curses, stands with me in his arms and strides
across the darkened parking lot toward his truck. I bury my face into the side
of his neck and close my eyes as tears stream soundlessly down my face.

Kael deposits me carefully on the passenger seat and clips
the seat belt into place. He jumps into the truck beside me and whips out his
cell phone.

‘Kent, I need you at the college. Now.’

It sounds like his brother responds on the other end but
Kael cuts him short.

‘Black van headed east. They tried to take Shaylee.’

He cuts the call and shoves his foot down hard on the
accelerator, sending the truck into a squealing spin before it shoots off, down
the road. Something tells me we’re going in the wrong direction – away from
Aylburton but I don’t say a word.

Kael’s face is focused forward, his eyes glued to the
black road before us. The telltale muscle in his jaw is working furiously. I
watch him struggle to maintain composure and listen to his breathing, irregular
and harsh. My eyes shoot to the speedometer and I inhale sharply.

‘Kael, stop,’ I say, ‘you’re going too fast.’

Fear spikes inside me as he continues to stare straight
ahead.

‘Kael, please, stop,’ I beg again but when he ignores
me, something deep down snaps.

‘Stop the car!’ I scream. ‘Just stop and let me out!’

Like a sleep-walker waking from a dream, Kael’s head
snaps toward me and he slams his foot on the brakes. The car skids out of
control and for a breathless moment, all I see are the headlights of an
oncoming car flashing wildly. I close my eyes and brace for impact as a million
fragmented thoughts race through my mind.

I hear the sound of a car horn, fast approaching…and
then it seems to pass us by and the car skids to a stop.
 
The engine sputters, dies and then there is
only silence. I breathe in, exhale in a stutter and open my eyes. We’re on the
side of the road, facing the wrong way. There are no streetlights and only the
ragged sound of our breathing pierces the quiet.

For a full minute, we both just sit there, heartbeats
hammering and then Kael turns to me.

‘Are you ok?’

I stare back at him in stunned silence - and promptly
burst into tears.

‘God, Shaylee, I’m so sorry,’ Kael says in a strained
voice but my body has had enough and I can’t stop my reaction. Kael reaches toward
me, unclips my seat belt and pulls me across the hand brake onto his lap. I
bury my face in the side of his neck and sob.

Everything I’ve been bottling up for the past weeks,
every tear I’ve stubbornly refused to shed, comes spilling out, like the sluices
have been opened and there’s no chance of closing them against the flood again.
Kael holds me as I cry, stroking my hair and rocking me gently, oblivious of
the wet patch I’m making against his shirt.

I cradle my injured arm against my chest and cry. When I
can’t squeeze another tear-drop from my red eyes, I just lay there, breath
hitching, pressing my face into the curve of his neck.

‘I’m so sorry, Shaylee,’ Kael whispers, when my
breathing has become more regular. I tilt my head to look at him and lose my
breath again for an all together different reason.
 

Kael stares at me, drinking me in. His eyes rove over
every part of my face and in that moment, I don’t care that my own eyes must be
puffy and swollen, or that my cheeks must be streaked with the salty residue of
my tears. His gaze drops to my mouth and without hesitation, he crushes his
lips to mine.

The kiss is completely unlike the first. There’s no
gentleness, no hesitation, only raw, deep need. He tangles his hands in the
hair at the back of my head, and bruises my lips with his. My pulse pounds in
my ears, bursts of electricity race through my veins. Heat builds inside as the
connection surges between us, heightening every sensation until I feel as if
I’m about to burst. It’s like this every time he touches me. The pressure of
his lips now makes me feel like we’re building, climbing, racing toward
something explosive and all I want is to climb higher, closer, faster.
 
 

Kael severs the kiss and buries his face in my hair. He
curses softly and shifts me back onto the passenger seat. The lack of his
warmth leaves me shivering with cold and aching.

‘How the hell did this happen?’ he mumbles.

He fumbles with the key in the ignition and doesn’t speak
again. When we pull into the driveway of Nan’s house, he shuts off the engine
and glares out the front windshield.

‘That shouldn’t have happened,’ he says.

I look at him and will him to look back at me, but he
doesn’t. I want to ask him what he means. What should not have happened? The
attack? The near accident? The kiss?

‘Kael, I
 
-’

‘No, don’t say anything, Shaylee,’ he interrupts. He
turns at last to look at me and I wish he hadn’t. His eyes are empty. ‘What
happened tonight was a mistake. It won’t happen again,’ he says. I know he’s
not talking about the attack.

‘But…’ I argue but trail away as the entrance light
flickers on and the front door is thrown open. Nan appears in the doorway,
attired in a fleecy white gown, with a complexion to match.

‘Let’s get you inside,’ Kael says. He slams the truck
door behind him, extricates me gently from the car and carries me up the porch
steps. Nan’s eyes widen as she takes in my disheveled appearance, the damp,
wrinkled dress and hair tumbling from its pins.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Shaylee will fill you in,’ Kael says. He deposits me at
the doorway and gestures toward my arm. ‘Her wrist is broken,’ he says, ‘I have
to go.’ He gives me one last look, full of regret and disappears into the
hedges.
 

Chapter
49

Numb

Tastes like: Throat
lozenges.

Smells like: Antiseptic.

Sounds like: A monotone.

Feels like: Your arm, after
you’ve slept the night on it.

Looks
like: An elderly man, stretching after sitting in the same position for too
long.

‘What happened?’ Nan asks. She takes my elbow and leads
me toward the kitchen.

I’m suddenly exhausted, depleted of the adrenaline that
has kept me going over the last hour. My thoughts are a jumbled mess and all I
want to do is curl up in the warm cocoon of my bed.

‘Shaylee?’

I try to think of an easy way to put the events of
tonight into words but my brain is stuck in basic survival mode, and there’s no
tact or sensitivity on that setting.

‘Someone tried to abduct me.’

‘What?’ Nan asks, visibly shaken.

‘It’s ok, Kael saved me.’

She looks at my face, swollen along the left side from
my attacker’s brutal slap and my wrist, still cradled awkwardly in my other
hand.

‘Come.’

She pulls a stool out and gestures for me to sit. I obey
and she rummages through the cupboard, pulling out a first aid kit and various
glass jars. She shakes a few of the herbs into her pestle and mortar, mixes in
a little water to make a paste and slops the mixture onto a gauze wrapping.
 

‘I’ve had a bad feeling for days,’ she says, shaking her
head and taking my injured wrist in her hands. ‘I shouldn’t have ignored it.’

This time, she doesn’t even try to use her healing talent
on me. She places the compress she’s created over my injury and uses a long
bandage to wrap my hand and wrist.

I watch her wind the white length of material through my
fingers, up and around my forearm. All can think of is Kael, the look in his
eyes when he burst outside, the feel of his arms around me, the pressure of his
lips on mine... He must feel something for me. Is it the effect of my aura or
something more? I need to know.

‘Nan,’ I say, choosing my words carefully.

‘Hmm?’

‘How does a
seastnan
…feel...I
mean…what does Jake feel for you?’

She stops bandaging and looks up at me with a sharp
expression.

‘What do you mean?’

I glance away, quickly amending my question to downplay
my interest.

‘Well, it’s just that Kael seemed to know exactly when I
was in trouble, even though he couldn’t have heard me shouting above the
music.’

Nan sighs and starts wrapping my arm again.

‘The relationship between a
seastnan
and his charge is an intimate one that is not easily explained
or understood. It’s like…’ she pauses and looks thoughtful for a moment. ‘You
saw how the babies reacted at the blood promise ceremony?’

I nod, remembering how they had cried and reached out
for each other.

‘It’s a lot like that,’ Nan says. ‘You become connected
to your
seastnan
in ways that can’t
be explained. Like having a twin, except that he can feel your emotions.’

‘Feel my emotions?’

‘Yes,’ Nan confirms. ‘That’s how Kael knew you were in
trouble. He can feel your anger, your pain, and your fear – especially your
fear.’
 

She secures the edge of the bandage with Elastoplast and
fills a glass halfway with hot water. She takes more glass jars from her stash,
crushes another mixture, adds it to the water, and holds it out for me.

‘Drink,’ she says.

I swallow the concoction, which is bitter with the lack
of honey. I don’t know what’s in there but I do taste rosemary and sage. When
the glass is drained, Nan takes it from me, places it in the sink and I wait
for her to return to me before I ask:

‘Do you love Jake?’

She smiles at me.

‘Of course I do. I’m not
in love
with him, that would be impossible, but -’

‘Impossible?’

She stops and her smile fades a little as she gives me a
searching look.

‘I’m just curious,’ I say quickly, ‘I mean, does my aura
affect him too?’

‘Heavens, no!’ Nan says, with a little laugh, ‘Can you
imagine? How would he ever concentrate enough to protect you?’ She shakes her
head. ‘Your
seastnan
is immune to
your aura. Just as he is immune to falling in love with you, and you with him.’

She turns and begins to pack bandages back into the
first-aid kit, oblivious of the shock and disappointment coursing through me.

‘No, thankfully, you never have to worry about that. Kael
could never fall in love with you.’
 
 

The after-effects of Nan’s words stay with me well into
the early hours of the morning, making sleep impossible. The pain in my wrist
doesn’t help either and eventually, I give up and crawl into the window-seat,
with
Five
on my lap. It’s not easy to
write with my left hand but this is the only way I know how to make sense of
the chaotic emotions swirling around inside me.

It takes me a while to settle on one particular word and
the page is scribbled with an array of crossed-out words: disbelief, sadness,
broken-heartedness, until I finally scrawl the closest word that can explain
the cold, emptiness inside me.
Hopelessness
.

Kael could never
fall in love with you
. What is it that he feels for
me then? What drove him to kiss me – twice? If it’s not love and it’s not my
aura, what is it? And if it’s supposed to be ‘impossible’ for me to fall in
love with him, why does my heart stutter every time I see him? Why do I long
for him to touch me?

The sound of my cell phone startles me. The ringtone is
enough to send dread curling through my stomach. Nobody calls at this hour
unless it’s life or death. I snatch the phone up quickly and check the caller
ID; it’s Jenne. My heart skips a beat as I hit ‘answer’.

‘What’s wrong, Jenne?’ I say.

My heart plummets as I hear the faint sound of her
sniffing.

‘Oh, God, Shaylee,’ she says. ‘Your house – it’s gone.’

‘What,’ I say, feeling an icy shiver creep up my spine.
I spring up and begin pacing agitatedly before the window. ‘What do you mean,
gone
?’

‘They burned it to the ground!’

‘What? Who? Why?’

‘God, I don’t even know what they were. They wanted
you
!’

The icy shiver turns into full-blown panic.

‘My parents – are they alright?’

Jenne lets out a sob.
 

‘No, please, no!’ I sink to my knees as all the blood
rushes to my stomach. I feel a rush of wind and then Kael stands before me. He
reaches out but I shake my head.

‘Talk to me, Jenne!’ I demand.
 

‘They stabbed your mother, Shaylee.
With iron
.’

Kael’s eyes lock with mine and they are filled with a
mixture of sympathy and horror.

‘Is she -’ I hesitate, unable to articulate the rest of
the sentence but Jenne spares me from having to ask.

‘She’s still alive. Dad’s treating her but – it’s bad,
Shaylee. I don’t know if she’s going to make it.’ Her voice breaks and the
sound of her sobbing doubles me over. Kael reaches out toward me, but I bat his
hand away and turn my wild eyes to his.

‘I have to go to her,’ I say but he immediately shakes
his head.

‘No, you can’t come here!’ Jenne says, ‘That’s exactly
what they want!’

‘But it’s my mother!’

‘I’m sorry, Shaylee,’ Kael says, ‘but she’s right. We
can’t risk -’

‘Dammit, she’s my mother!’ I shout, my voice full of
anguish.

A tremor rolls through me and Kael eyes me with alarm.
He steps forward and wrests the phone from my ear.

‘Jenne? Shaylee has to go. Keep us updated.’

He disconnects the call and forces me into his tight
embrace. I struggle, remembering the last conversation – or should I say
argument – I had with my mother. I don’t deserve comfort. I’m the reason my
mother lies injured. I’m the reason she might not make it. Why do I always put
the ones I love in danger? Why do I always hurt them?

The pressure inside me builds but Kael holds me tight until
I give up and sag against him. He lifts me, cradles my body in his lap and sits
with me at the end of the bed, rubbing his hand in small circles across my back.
I lay my head against his chest, but I don’t cry.

My gaze settles on the pot of chrysanthemums beside my
bed and I just stare at them. For the first time ever, their heads are turned
away from me.