Resistance (34 page)

Heading downstairs with my arms full of journals and
photo albums, I see Aodhan at his post at the second floor landing
and nod as I pass. I wonder for a moment if Eir is still in with
Lumi, and if I should do anything to break that up, but he’s grown
up enough to know his own heart so I keep going down the stairs. I
do my best to tread carefully as I pass Flint’s room, not wanting
to disturb his sleep for a second night. When I reach my room, I
dump the books on my bed and pull my braid up and loop it into a
messy bun on the back of my head. I consider asking one of the
guards out back to come with me on my run but discard the idea. I’m
not going to be long; I’ll be fine. I’m not thinking of anything
but getting outside and working the kinks out of my muscles.

I ease out of the back door as quietly as possible
and take off running as soon as I clear the back stairs. The need
to be free of the house for a little while takes over and I revel
in the tepid night air that surrounds me. Here is a little relief,
finally. The pounding of my feet on the ground and the steady
thumping of my heart are the only noises in the night as I pass the
gnarled old oak tree where I first saw Flint. When I hear a second
set of footfalls coming up fast behind me, fear takes over for a
moment and my mind goes blank. All I can think is that my brother
is never going to forgive me for leaving the house without a guard.
I make myself keep running and do as I’ve been trained to. On
autopilot, I slow just a little and time my footfalls with my
would-be attacker’s. I sidestep and reach for the dagger I keep
sheathed on the inside of my thigh, and realize in horror that it
isn’t there. Having spent the entire day in the house, I forgot my
daggers and am completely unarmed. I never leave the house unarmed,
ever. Not since I was twelve and my father gave me Gran’s old
dagger for my birthday. Terror makes my heart stutter and I make
myself turn around to see who is behind me. When I see Flint, of
all people shadowing me, I let out a gasp of relief and move
towards him without thinking.

I fling myself at him and throw my arms around his
middle, shaking with relief and adrenaline. I know I am incredibly
lucky it’s Flint and not someone who is here to do me harm. I feel
his hands close over my shoulders hard, not hurting but not gentle
either, and I look into his face to see anger in every line and
plane. All I want to do is hide my face in his chest and ask him to
hold me. Apparently that is not to be. “Flint,” I begin, but he
makes an angry noise in his throat and I shut up.

His hands are like iron bands on my shoulders;
holding me to him but keeping me from moving closer. “What happened
to not leaving the house without a guard from now on?” he asks
quietly, but I can tell by the set of his jaw that he is furious
with me. “Why is it so hard for you to ask for help, Fi? Why do you
not see that your brother would be devastated if something were to
happen to you? How do you not see how important you are to him —
to me?
” His eyes are burning into mine and he seems to be
just barely holding in the urge to shake me when I feel tears
threaten.

I open my mouth to offer an excuse for my actions and
find I can’t argue with him. He’s right. I don’t think about what
could happen if I wasn’t here. I know better, and still I act
without consideration. When did I become so selfish? “You’re
right,” I say. “I know you’re right. I’m sorry.” I blink the tears
out of my eyes and plunge on, determined to confess everything.
“I’ve never been so happy to see you. I need to tell you
something…” I trail off and take a breath to steady myself. I
glance up to see a calm watchfulness in his face, and I can tell
he’s waiting for more bad news.

He sighs, releases my shoulders and nods. “Go on,
love — I’m listening.”

I take a shaky breath and gather my courage. “I don’t
know how to say this really,” I start; wondering how to even tell
him all of it. He moves to lean against the tree where we met,
crosses his arms and looks as though he’s waiting for the other
shoe to drop. “You might not realize,” I start again, and feel
color flood my face. That’s not how I should have begun. I try
again. “I’m just so tired of pretending…” Oh God, that sounds
terrible, like I don’t want him around! I shake my head at my own
idiocy. “I never stopped to think about how I felt before.” Flint
looks defensive and confused at the same time now, and is looking
at me like I may have lost my mind. I have no romantic know-how;
it’s official. I look at him, see the confusion and tension etched
on his face and feel worse, and then practically shout, “Oh God,
I’m doing this ALL WRONG!”

He stares at me like I’m insane and almost looks
nervous, but shakes his head at me. “Alright — what are you trying
to tell me, Fi?”

“I'm trying to tell you — my feelings...and...I love
you!"
Oh my goodness. Did I really just blurt it out like
that?

“What?” Flint looks like I’ve hit him over the head
with something. Oh, this is not going as I’d hoped it would at all!
I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life.

I throw my hands up in the air, completely
exasperated. "I'm in love with you!” I shout, and then start
babbling. “And I understand if you don’t feel the same, but I just
thought you…I mean…”

He’s suddenly in front of me again; his hands cupping
my face, thumbs stroking my skin. “Shut up, Fi,” he says softly,
shocking me into silence. He tilts my head back so he can look into
my eyes as he says, “I love you, too.” And then his mouth is on
mine and all other thoughts flee my mind.

There is nothing tentative about this kiss; it is all
heat and passion and need. Every feeling I’ve been denying now
rushes to the surface and demands to be exposed. Our mouths are
open and our tongues tangle together as his hands move down my body
to grab my hips and pull me closer to him. I loop my arms around
his neck and stand on my toes, causing him to take a step
backwards, bringing me with him. In a few more steps he has me
backed up against the old oak tree, and I feel his rangy figure
press against mine; effectively trapping me between his body and
the tree.

Under normal circumstances I don’t like being
crowded, however I am finding being sandwiched between Flint’s warm
body and the rough tree bark a wholly pleasurable experience. As
long as he keeps kissing me like this, the world could fall down
around us and I probably wouldn’t notice. I finally see why girls
agree to marriage. This perfect melding of tongues and lips is what
makes girls commit to a lifetime bound to another person. It
doesn’t seem so silly now.

His mouth moves to my ear, nips the lobe gently with
his teeth and then rasps, “We should get back.” I moan with a
longing I’ve never felt before; arching into him and snagging his
mouth again with my own after he takes in a ragged breath. As far
as I’m concerned, we can stay here leaning against this tree
wrapped up in each other forever. He humors me for a few more
moments, but when my hands snake under the back of his shirt to
touch his bare skin, he groans and takes my wrists in his hands;
putting them between our bodies and taking a step away from me.

“Why are you all the way over there?” I ask, feeling
almost drunk from his touch.

He smirks at me and says, “I think we should head
somewhere a little more private, love.”

I feel color rise in my chest and cheeks and shake my
head; trying to clear the fog his kisses have brought on and
manage, “That would probably be best.” He keeps hold of one of my
hands and takes a step back towards the path, tugging me along
behind him.

“I think so…unless you wanted to put on a show for
the guards, that is,” he says, and I smack his arm.

“Ass,” I say, trying not to smile, and he laughs as
he tows me closer and kisses me quickly on the lips. I can’t keep
the happy grin off my face as we walk home hand in hand.

Chapter 23—Flint

August 2102

It is still dark and shadowy in the depths of the
bedroom, and once again a squirming Fianna under my arm is waking
me up before the sun has come over the horizon. She would have a
much better chance of leaving me sleeping if she just got up and
didn’t try to not disrupt me. I hear her growl in frustration and
she deflates against the bed; trying very diligently to tug herself
away from me. I bite my tongue to keep in a chuckle and wrap my arm
more securely around her stomach; pulling her firmly against my
chest. She gasps in surprise and goes stiff, and the cheek I can
see is a deep red in nanoseconds.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” I ask
against her ear. My voice is raspy with sleep and I almost clear my
throat, but I refrain when I feel her shiver at the tone.

“Uhh,” she says, and I feel her head shake as she
hisses at herself. “I was just going for my run,” she manages
slowly, and rolls onto her back. I shift and prop my head on my
hand so I can see her better. Her face is flushed and her lips are
parted as she looks up at me, and part of me longs to lean down and
take them in a kiss. The pale pink camisole she wore to bed is now
bunched up above her belly button, and the waist of her boxer
shorts has slid down in all her maneuvering to get out of bed
undetected. I drag my eyes back to hers and rest my hand on her
ribs, trying to get blood to return to my brain.

“We really need to talk about this ‘early riser’
thing you do,” I tell her teasingly; trailing my hand down from her
ribs to rest on the exposed skin of her hip. “You’re missing out on
the inner peace that comes along with sleeping past, oh…five
a.m.”

Her face is still flushed and the skin under my
fingers is rough with goose bumps, but she tries to reply to me
anyhow. “I’ve done it before—” Her voice breaks and she flushes
deeper and coughs; covering her mouth with her hand as she attempts
to clear her throat and sound semi-human. I don’t hold back my
chuckle, which only makes her blush harder.

“I really should be going, now,” she says suddenly.
She tries to sit up, but I stop her again and she glares up at me.
If she really wanted to leave I would let her, and she knows that.
I’m being annoying at this point.

“I think we should take a walk, instead,” I suggest,
not ready to be without her yet, and tug the hem of her camisole
between my fingers. I look down for a minute, watching her stomach
jump under the brush of my knuckles, and when I try to meet her
eyes again she’s staring at my mouth. I smile down at her and her
green eyes lock on mine. “Huh?”

I laugh a little and press a chaste kiss to the
corner of her lips. “I said you should go on a walk with me,” I
tell her. “I can show you those weak points we were going to
investigate, you know…a few months ago.”

It takes a minute to process what I’ve said, but
understanding dawns on her eventually and she nods mutely. My
cheeks are sore and I realize I’m still smiling, but I can’t seem
to wipe it off my face. “I guess I’ll go put pants on then,” I
offer and she nods again with a smile, but still doesn’t talk. I’m
not sure she can. I find that a bit too exciting.

I kiss her cheek and finally release her shirt.
Reluctantly rolling out of bed and slipping to the next room over,
even though I’d much rather lie in bed and lock my mouth onto hers
until the sun comes up…tomorrow morning…I yank open the dresser
drawer and find something clean to wear.

I’m just pulling a new shirt over my head when Fi
pops her head in the room, bringing the scent of lavender with her.
She’s changed into a black tee shirt and a pair of cut-off jean
shorts and her hair is down, hanging in loose waves past the small
of her back. She offers me a shy smile as she’s beating a brush
through it. There are three hair ties around her wrist. “Hey.”

“Hi there,” I reply, taking a few steps forward, my
hands itching to touch her. I extend a hand and push some of her
thick hair behind her ear, admiring how the dark locks frame her
ivory features. “You should wear your hair down more often.”

She blushes so hard this time her freckles almost
completely disappear. She has a choke hold on the handle of the
brush when she says, “I dunno…Eirnin always used to yank on it when
he was little, and my mom told me I had to keep it tied back if I
didn’t want it cut and—” She shakes her head and looks like she
wants to kick herself. “It became a habit to pull it back.”

I hum in response and smile at her. “You’re beautiful
either way.”

You’d think I just said the most sexually
inappropriate thing ever by the look on her face. A smile comes
over her features and she looks at her feet, and again I’m taken
over by the urge to bring her back to the bed and not move for a
few years. Her emerald eyes rise to mine and I take a step closer
to her automatically.