Heroes 'Til Curfew (Talent Chronicles #2) (31 page)

As I shut the door behind me, I wondered if
he had some usual place to go for that. Like climbing up my house
was turning into some usual thing.

“And five seconds to spare,” Mom said,
making a show of examining her watch. She was lounging in the
kitchen doorway, but she pushed off and came toward me, wrapping me
up in another hug.

“I’m so glad you’re home, sweetheart.”

My throat got all tight again. “Me too,
Mom.” It had been hard being away for those first few nights when I
was alone, but once Dylan was in the Warren with me, I’d hardly
missed my family at all. I felt guilty about that now.

She looked at me, smoothed back my hair.
“You’re tired. Why don’t you get to bed, hmm?”

“I think I really need a shower first.”

“Well, I didn’t want to mention…”

“Oh, gee, thanks.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

She watched me go up the stairs, so I had to
go slowly, like I was really feeling the tired. As soon as I was
out of sight, I moved faster, using my Talent to cushion my steps.
In my room I hurried over to the window, reset the contacts and
opened it. I didn’t see Dylan coming yet, so before I turned on the
light I stripped out of my clothes and pulled on my bathrobe.

I showered quickly and left it running while
I gave my teeth a quick brush and tried to make myself look
presentable. As presentable as one can look dripping wet in a
bathrobe. Probably all for the best that the mirror was fogged over
and I couldn’t really see myself.

Back in my room the window was shut and
Dylan was stretched out on my bed, barefoot, with his eyes closed.
I saw his jacket and boots and kicked them farther under the bed,
then pulled at his hand.

“What?”

“Just come on.”

We snuck down the empty hallway to the
bathroom where the shower was still running. Dylan raised a brow at
me.

“You’re invisible. So make with the
invisibility. Just hurry up. It’s not like me to take really long
showers.”

He tried to cover his surprise and drawled,
“I’m shocked to learn this, really,” as he phased out.

I sat down on the toilet lid, making sure my
robe was as closed as it could get. “I figure I owe you a shower
since you snuck us into your place the other day while your mom was
at work,” I told him, kind of fascinated by the way his shirt
appeared only after it left his hand and started falling to the
floor.

“Yeah, but
I
was a gentleman host and
kept lookout at the front door.”

I heard the sound of the gentleman’s zipper,
and then his jeans sliding down his legs. This was a really bad
idea.

“Also, you worked up a sweat fighting it out
with Poe. I didn’t want to mention it, but…you’re a little
rank.”

“Suddenly she’s picky.” Balled up jeans
landed on top of the shirt.

The curtain drew back, fell into place
again, and then there was a groan from inside the shower that made
me glad the vent fan was so loud.

“Hurry it up.”

“Maybe if you would come in here and scrub
my back it would speed things up.”

“I’m not invisible.”

“I know this.”

A few minutes later the water shut off and
the curtain drew back. I held up a towel, averting my eyes even
though there was really nothing to see.

“Sorry it’s kind of damp.”

“That’s fine.”

I could feel him standing there, right in
front of me, drying himself off. The tension in the room was thick.
It was too much, a really bad idea. I couldn’t see him, but I
wanted to reach out until I found him. To see what he’d do if I
touched him. To see what I’d do. It scared me, how fast things had
changed—how fast I was changing. A few weeks ago we were still
dancing around and not even admitting that we liked each other. Now
I felt like I couldn’t stand it if I had to spend the night away
from him. It was crazy. I darted to the other side of the tiny
bathroom to pick up his pile of clothes.

“Joss.”

I turned around right into Dylan’s chest.
His very visible, very naked chest. I dropped the clothes. It
shouldn’t have been a big deal. It’s not like I hadn’t seen him
without a shirt already. I’d even slept with him shirtless. Okay,
thinking that didn’t really help me out. My automatic response to
being uncomfortable was to drop my eyes, and
that
showed me
how the towel he’d wrapped around him hugged his hips and was just
barely big enough to do the job. A shiver raced up my spine.

Then he was kissing me, fast, deep, and
desperate. Without clothes to hold onto, my fingers splayed out
over his chest, sliding up damp skin, over his shoulders, into his
wet hair. This was nothing like the gentle, careful boy I had been
cuddling with all week, the one who never pushed me too far, who
always backed away with a sheepish grin whenever we started to lose
our heads. It was like we’d started off way past that this
time.

I strained toward him, trying to press
myself closer. He grabbed me around the waist and set me up on the
counter. I didn’t think about anything but him, of touching him, of
him touching me, kissing me. I didn’t notice how the tie of my robe
loosened or the way I opened my knees as I pulled him into me
again. Just the way we fit together, the intoxicating thrill of his
skin against mine.

I gasped for air when his mouth left mine
and trailed down my throat. His lips moved lower, teeth grazing my
shoulder, tongue swirling over my skin in a pattern that was
driving me crazy. His hands were hard on my bare, arched back,
pressing me to him, and beneath my own I could feel the way his
breath heaved in and out of his body. One of his hands slid around,
pressed against my stomach, smoothed upward, closed over my
breast.

My head fell back against the mirror, my
whole body slack with the pleasure of it. Then his mouth closed
over me and I shot back up, fisting my hands in his hair.

Someone knocked on the door. Dylan dropped
me like I was on fire. I was. He had jumped back, then reached out
to me to help me pull my robe back into place, but snatched his
hand away again before he got there. We were both wide-eyed and
breathing hard, staring at each other as I slid from the
countertop, pulling the tie on my robe unnecessarily tight. He
turned away from me and made adjustments to the towel around his
waist.

The knocking turned to pounding.

“Jo-oss, how long’re you going to be in
there? I gotta go pee!”

“Jill,” I breathed.

I bent down to scoop up Dylan’s discarded
clothes, my tight belt digging into my waist. I balled them up
against my chest as Dylan phased out and I opened the door.

Jill breathed out, thoroughly exasperated.
“What were you doing in there? It looks like you tried to scrub
your face off.”

I felt Dylan brush against my back as he
made his escape from the bathroom and I gave Jill my best
big-sister, narrow-eyed glare. “It’s just so great to be back.
Goodnight, Jill.”

She returned the squinty eyes and threw in
an obnoxious air-kiss as I hurried down the hall after Dylan.

“Can I get my pants, please,” he whispered
out of nowhere as soon as I had cleared the door.

“Here,” I said, shoving them in the
direction of his voice and connecting with his stomach. “And stay
invisible until you’re decent.”

“I think that’s going to be a really long
time.”

“Ha ha,” I said, yanking the bedcovers down.
I felt around under my pillow. I still had PJs there.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting into my closet,” I told him as
I pushed some hangers and kicked a pack aside to make room for my
feet.

“You don’t trust me?”

“I think you’ve seen enough for one
night.”

I closed myself into the little space and
got dressed, bumping against the closet constantly and feeling
silly. Dylan flicked off the light. When I opened the doors again
he was right there, wearing his jeans, but all bare-chested in the
light coming in from the window and grinning down at me.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all. It’s
never enough.” His arm snaked out and grabbed me, but he turned me
around so that my back was to him as we fell back on the bed
together. He kissed my cheek. “Sorry I got carried away.”

“Not like it was just you,” I muttered,
blushing.

“And I’m putting shaving on my to-do list
for tomorrow,” he added, rubbing his stubbly cheek against
mine.

“Yeah, you do that.”

“So, you know, if you want me to go…”

“I don’t.” It came out really quiet, so I
said it a little louder. “I don’t want you to go. You keep
apologizing to me, like you’re doing something wrong. But I know…”
I didn’t know how to say what I knew.

“What?”

“I know your other…relationships…have
progressed faster than this. I know you’re taking it slow, like,
waiting for me to catch up, I guess. I know you feel like you have
to be careful with me.”

“Maybe it’s that I want to be careful with
you.”

Damn.
That was it. I was goo.

“I mean,” he went on, “you’ve been keeping
to yourself for a long time. Maybe you do have some catching up to
do. I don’t expect you to cover four years of make-out experience
in the first two weeks of our relationship.”

“Four years?”

“I don’t know, give or take a year. It’s not
like there’s a schedule. Are you actually worried about this?”

“I don’t know.”

“That means yes. Come here.” He made me turn
to face him, brushing my hair from my face and tucking it behind my
ear. It was too dark to really see him, which was kinda good. “Am I
thinking about it? Yes. Is it an effort to keep from throwing you
down and having my way with you? Yes. I’m a guy, you’re a girl. A
beautiful, super-hot, kick-ass ninja girl with a brain, and I am
totally in love with you. So don’t think it’s some big hardship for
me to be careful with you when all I want to do is take care of
you.”

He kissed me, soft and slow like he had all
the time in world.

“I love you, too,” I told him.

I felt more than saw his smile. He hugged me
closer. “Well, that was worth having a serious discussion for.”

I actually said it. And it was okay.

It was good.

* * *

Joss

“Joss!”

When my dad called my name, I jumped out of
bed. An instant later the room flooded with light and he was in the
doorway, looking half wild. “Joss, we gotta move. Get your p— What
the hell are you doing in my daughter’s room?!” His voice, already
over-loud, rose to a bellow, waking me up completely.

My head snapped around. Dylan had jumped out
of bed on the other side and stood there, totally visible, in all
his half-dressed glory.

Shit.

The shock on Dylan’s face hardened into the
sullen look he’d had when squaring off with Marco at Vinyl
Salvation.

Shit. Shit. Shit.
This was really
bad.

“I asked you a question, boy.”

“Nothing happened.” I said. “He was just
sleeping over.”

“You expect me to believe this is a
goddamned slumber party?!”

“Mr. Marshall, your daughter hasn’t done
anything you’d be ashamed of. This is all on me.”

“Oh my God, will you cut the crap? Dad, I
asked Dylan to stay, but just to sleep. Really. I swear.”

“You asked him to sleep in your bed? Young
lady, you are seventeen years old!”

We all turned toward the door at the sound
of Mom’s voice.

Jill ran up in her PJs holding Tinka, the
plush pink unicorn she was way too old for. She collided with Mom,
almost bumping her out of the doorway. “Joss did what?”

Mom took Jill by the shoulders. “Jilly
honey, go to your room, put some warm clothes on. Pull the pack out
from under your bed. I’ll be there to help you in a minute.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked
her.

Jill didn’t move.

“She’s talking about what you’ve brought
down on this family!” My father roared. “You’ve pushed your luck
too far and now we’ve got to go. You need to get yourself ready.
And
you
need to get the hell out of my house and away from
my daughter before I kill you.”

“Gene!” my mom exclaimed. That’s when I
realized she was hovering. She should have taken Jill to her room,
away from this. But she was afraid to leave Dad’s side.

“This is all his fault. She learned her
lesson with the fire and then we never had any problems with her
until he showed up. Now she’s running wild, running from the
police, getting in fights. She’s showing off her ability any time
she feels like it—”

“That’s not true!” I protested.

“—and making enemies of
his
friends
who are mixed up with the fucking Syndicate! The Syndicate,
Jocelyn, do you understand what that means? It means no one’s going
to help you. It means they have people everywhere, including the
police department. Maybe even NIAC.”

“But I don’t—”

“They’re coming for you! His buddy Marco—the
one you were so sure wouldn’t move against you—and his Syndicate
friends have threatened the merchants into going to the
police.”

“About what?”

“To frame you. And him,” he said, jerking
his head at Dylan, “for what happened to our store—for all the
downtown crime. McGuffey found me at the shop tonight and told me
they’re supposed to go into the station as a group tomorrow and
tell the police about how you and your boyfriend—and some of your
other Talent friends—have been terrorizing them, demanding money
and destroying property. Businesses have already been destroyed,
Jocelyn, and now they’re threatening these people’s families. It’s
going to happen. There’s nothing we can do to stop it. If we’re not
long gone from here, this time tomorrow you’ll be on your way to
State School. You need to get dressed, get your stuff, and we need
to move. So get your shit together and be downstairs in ten
minutes. And I don’t care where you go,” he said to Dylan, “but
you’re out of here right now. Get moving.”