Love Charms (25 page)

Evan
tugged my hand lightly once more and this time I went with him.

"This
is insane," I said.  "I'm not fast enough."

"You
don't have to be fast," he said.  "Just watch."

We
reached the stairs to the second floor of the library.  My legs felt thick and
slippery like grape jelly.  It was difficult to climb stairs on the best of
days for me, and after climbing over the walls to get in here and running this
far, now was not one of those better days.

"I
can't climb stairs well," I said.

Evan
grinned.  "That's the entire point."

I
had no idea what he meant.  Apparently he didn't need me to know, either. 
Kneeling fast, slipping one hand behind my knees and holding my back with the
other, he lifted me up and cradled me in his arms.

"Evan!"
I shrieked.  "This isn't going to work!"

Evan
laughed, climbing the stairs one at a time, steady yet fast.  "Oh, it's
not?"

I
looked down, staring at the others following us.  At the base of the stairs,
barely an arm's length away from us, they hesitated.  One of them leaped
forwards and grabbed at Evan's foot.

I
sucked in air and held my breath.  Evan casually walked up the stairs, lifting
his foot away from the outstretched hand right before it would have grabbed the
cuff of his pants.  Our assailant's head smacked against the step with a thud
and he slid back down the steps, befuddled.  I knew that wouldn't keep him
distracted for more than a moment, but for now it worked.

What
scars would it leave, though?  Evan carried me up the stairs and I looked back
sadly, worrying.  I knew they wanted to catch him, to kill him, but it hurt to
watch them.  We might not feel pain as fully as anyone else, but it left its
mark nonetheless.  If the failed attacker gained a scar, some bruise, he
probably wouldn't care, but it'd leave a mark.

I
thought of them as marks of inhumanity, of difference.  If most people cut
themselves, they used bandages or ointment to help it heal, but in our
confused, awkward states we really couldn't.  Besides the fact that it took a
lot of effort, sometimes I never even thought about it.  When a regular person
is injured, they can feel the pain and know to take care of it, but if that
happened to me I might not realize the extent of my injury.

I
had a few marks, myself.  Evan carried me up the stairs as surely as he
started, but I felt more awkward now.  Shifting in his arms, hiding my legs
with the skirt of my dress and my hands, I hoped he didn't realize what I was
doing.  Thankfully he didn't seem to notice with the adrenaline from our escape
coursing through him.

He
bounded up the last few steps effortlessly and then placed me back on the
floor.  I shook, unsteady, but he kept a hand on my waist to help me.

"I
don't see how this is going to help," I said.

Already,
climbing after us, came the others.  One of them held the railing, slowly
plodding his way up the stairs, while another followed behind him, half
crawling and half pulling himself up.  The remaining two stood at the bottom
still, but I had no doubts they'd begin their ascent soon.

"The
windows," Evan said, as if his comment needed no explanation.

I
stared at him, raising one brow.  "Huh?"

"The
first floor doesn't actually have windows," he said.  "They're more
like glass walls.  Right?  Up here you can open the windows, though."

"You
can't mean..."

He
interrupted me by taking my hand in his.  I didn't know for sure, but I thought
he did it on purpose, catching me off guard while I enjoyed the heated trill of
his skin sending warm shivers through my body.

"Come
on," he said.

I
went, I followed, but I wanted him to know I didn't enjoy his demanding
nature.  "You can't just tell me what to do," I said.  "And you
can't just... do... you're tricking me."

He
couldn't just touch me and distract me and expect me to do everything he wanted
was what I meant to say, except if I said that it not only sounded wrong, but
it maybe told him more about this than I wanted him to know.  Did he know? 
Maybe he didn't realize it yet.  And, honestly, was that the reason I was
following him in the first place?  I wasn't entirely sure.

"I'm
not tricking you," he said.  "I want you to come with me."

He
wanted me to go with him?  I didn't understand why, though.  For what reason? 
It hurt to think it, but I assumed he wanted to study me.  He wanted to ask me
questions and learn about what made us like this.  He wanted to know about the
others and to understand it, so he could figure out a solution.  Some curative
desire of his, a medicative need.

He
didn't want me to go with him for any real reason.  For all I knew, he didn't
even really like me.  I doubted he hated me, but he had ulterior motives, of
that I was positive.  Still, was that alright?  I liked him, his heat.  He
seemed nice and friendly.  I did want to stay near him, but I didn't really know
why or for what exact reason.

We
walked to the nearest window and Evan began spinning the handle to levy the
window open.  I watched him, curious.  He
was
handsome, I decided.  I
hadn't really bothered to notice before, but I liked the way he looked.  Somewhat
rugged and rough, but not too over the top.  He had a bit of stubble on his
cheeks, which looked nice, but I hoped he never grew a full beard.  His clothes
were loose, so I couldn't tell for sure, but he must be strong since he'd
carried me up the stairs without too much effort.

I
loved his hair, too.  Wavy and loose, dark black.  I wanted to run my fingers
through it and touch it.  I could, I decided, be very happy doing that and then
grabbing the back of his head and pulling him in for a kiss.  If he wanted, if
we were dating, which we weren't, and I was a zombie... he, of course, wasn't,
and I didn't know why I thought these things because obviously neither of us
should care about them.  I knew Evan wouldn't, and I shouldn't, but...

He
opened the window as far as it would go, which wasn't nearly far enough for
either of us to slip out of.  The window opened at the top, held in place by
retracting metal bars.  Standing, surveying what he had to work with, he
grunted.

"I
wish I had a screwdriver," he said.

"Why?"
I asked.

"Then
I wouldn't have to kick out the window."

Evan
kicked at the sides of the window casing.  With a creak, the metal bars
strained against his onslaught.  A few more kicks on one side of the window and
the thin bar came loose, flapping away from the casing.  Moments later the
other side came loose.  The window hesitated for a second, falling outwards
slowly.  With a loud crash, it smacked against the outside of the library,
glass shattering and cascading to the ground in a million little pieces.

"All
set," he said.

Behind
us, finishing the struggle up the stairs, our first chaser appeared.  He must
have hesitated at the top, unsure where we went, but at the obvious sound of
the breaking glass, his head swiveled towards us.  He stared at me as I looked
at him, and then he bolted towards us.

Evan
leaped out of the window to the grassy ground below.  Springing to a stop a few
feet away, he glanced up at me and smiled.

I
couldn't do it, I couldn't go.  I wanted to, I really did, but I couldn't. 
What if I slipped and fell?  If I hit my head, no matter what I was like now,
I'd definitely fall unconscious.  Or even if I didn't hit my head, what if I
didn't jump far enough and scraped my knees?  If I landed in the glass and cut
myself, I'd end up with more marks; more signs of my inhumanity.

Evan
wouldn't leave.  I briefly considered not jumping and forcing him to leave.  I
knew it wouldn't work, though.  The leader of the pack coming after us was
currently in a mad bullrush for the window and he was going to jump out of it
no matter what I did.  I imagined Evan standing there, smug, not even caring.

"Oh,
I'm in horrible danger?" I pictured him thinking.  "It doesn't
matter.  Let me just act a fool in order to get this zombie girl I just met to come
with me."

Except
he wouldn't call me a zombie.  He hadn't said it at all, not once.  He hadn't
treated me like anything but a person, and I appreciated that so much.  I
didn't feel like a zombie, nor did I want to be a zombie.  I did feel odd
sometimes, out of place, confused and disoriented and unsure, but that was it.

I
jumped.

I
fell into Evan's arms.  He stepped forward to catch me and we toppled to the
ground, but no more.  I didn't hit my head, didn't scrape my knees.  The glass
wasn't anywhere near us and so I didn't need to worry about that, either.  We
lay in the grass, huddled together, breathing quickly.

Our
first follower stumbled out of the broken window and collapsed onto the ground
next to us.  I screamed, startled, staring at him.

He'd
landed on his feet, but hadn't had the sense to buckle his knees to soften his
fall.  Instead, he landed hard and fell forward, face first into the ground.  I
never knew what happened after that because Evan lifted me off the ground and
to my feet, turning me away from the fallen man.

"This
way," I said, pointing to the easily climbable tree and the student's
secret sneak-out route.  "There's a hidden way out."

Evan
nodded and we ran for it.  He ran slowly now, though, oddly.  I looked over at
him and realized his crossbow must have jarred his shoulder when he caught me.

"You're
hurt," I said.

He
brushed it off.  "I'm fine.  Where is it?"

I
showed him to the nearby spot with the tree.  There was no bench on this side
to get started, but the wall wasn't too high and the tree branches grew lower
than the ones on the other side.  Evan nodded once we arrived and went straight
to business.

Removing
the quiver and crossbow from his back, he jumped up and slipped them onto the
top of the stone wall.  Getting to his knees next to the wall, he looped his
fingers together and looked at me pointedly.

"I'll
help you up.  It'll be faster this way.  Just step onto my hands and use the
wall to brace yourself.  I'll lift you up as high as I can.  Can you jump to
the other side fine if I get you to the top?  If not, I can climb up after you
and help you down."

"I
can do it," I said.  Breathing in deep, I stared at him kneeling on the
ground.  "I don't know if this is a good idea, though."

"It's
not a good idea," he said with a grin.  "It's a great idea!  I
promise I won't drop you."

I
rolled my eyes at him and sighed.  Stepping into his hand with one foot, I
reached out and braced myself against the wall with my arms.  Carefully, he
lifted me up.  He slipped when he went to stand and cursed under his breath.

His
shoulder.  I'd completely forgotten.  I could climb the tree--I'd done it
before.  We didn't need to do it this way and I should've realized we
shouldn't, too.

"I
can climb on my own," I said.  "You're hurt, Evan."

He
ignored me, grimacing, and then with a grunt he pushed through the pain in his
arm and stood up.  I wobbled at first, but kept myself balanced against the
wall.  Worried, frowning, I watched him but he refused to accept my anxiety.

He
lifted me higher.  I reached out and grabbed the other side of the wall, then
pulled one leg over the top while holding on.  Lifting my other leg off his
hands, I spun up and onto the top of the wall.

But
I didn't jump to the other side.

The
last of our group of chasers, the one who had never come inside to begin with,
content with slamming his open palms against the glass instead, staggered
around the corner of the building.  The three inside approached the broken
glass around that time, too.  All four of them surveyed the yard, spying their
fallen companion.  Slowly, seeking, they scanned for Evan.

And
then they saw him.  Evan grabbed onto the tree and lifted himself up.  Or, he
tried to.  He used the wrong arm and winced in pain, then jumped back to the
ground. 

The
group of others saw him and regained their desire for the chase.  The one
already on the ground bolted forward, intent on getting to Evan before the
rest.  One of the ones on the second floor of the library furrowed his brow for
a moment, but then leapt to the ground.  Better prepared than his predecessor,
he landed lightly in the grass, ready to hunt.

This
time with his other arm, Evan grabbed the lowest branch again.  He tried to
climb one-handed, but wasn't making much progress.

I
stared at him, then glanced towards his soon-to-be attackers.  Back and forth,
my eyes darted from one to the other.  He couldn't get up, wouldn't be able to
make it in time.

Laying
flat against the top of the wall, I reached one arm down and stretched it out
as far as I could.

"Evan!"
I screamed.

He
saw me, saw my hand.  With one last ditch effort, he snatched a branch with his
good arm and reached up for my hand with his bad one.  I touched him, felt the
heat flare into my palm.  It shocked and startled me, even now, but I clenched
my hand into a fist and squeezed his hand in mine.