Seer (The Seeker Series Book 3) (21 page)

Wow. He was like the poster child for nerds. But even nerds deserve some love, so I went through my mental contact list, looking for someone who might be a good match for Michael. Bingo! One of the waitresses at work always talked about anime, video games, and other nerdy stuff and she was pretty cute. Maybe I could work out a meeting between the two of them. “That sounds fun,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t see through my fake enthusiasm.

“Yeah! Hey, do you play? I bet I could get my dungeon master to let you in our group.”

Nope, he didn’t see through it. “Um, that does sound great, but I don’t really have time for anything else right now. Sorry. So, this seems like a cool class, huh? I can’t wait to see the reading list.” I desperately tried to change the subject.

The reading list turned out to be interesting, with books I hadn’t read. I loved studying literature and looked forward to someday teaching it. Too bad it doesn’t pay much.

Later that afternoon, after a full day of classes, I walked toward my SUV after the shuttle dropped me off. The bad thing about an urban university was the parking nightmare—my parking permit was for a lot so far away they had to provide a courtesy shuttle. As I neared the car, I noticed a red, long-stem rose had been tucked under the windshield wiper. I smiled as I removed it and sniffed its delicate perfume. How sweet of Jack to do this on the first day of the semester.

Me: Thanks for the rose! It made me smile at the end of a very long first day back! Love you!

Jack: What rose?

My smile faded as I read his text and my hand trembled as I replied.

Me: You didn’t leave a rose on my windshield?

I already knew the answer as the bouquet of roses left on my doorstep weeks ago finally flashed through my mind.

Jack: No.

Then my phone rang.

“Jack? There was a rose on my windshield. It was him, wasn’t it? The guy who broke into my house and left the bouquet and stole my underwear? Wasn’t it?” I was babbling and crying, probably not making much sense.

“Where are you now, Ally?” He sounded grim and I could hear him cursing under his breath.

“I’m still in the parking lot. I just got in the car.”

“Lock your doors. Now.”

“Okay.” I did, then rolled down the window just enough to throw the rose to the ground outside; I couldn’t stand having it in the car with me one second longer.

“I want you to drive straight to the shop, okay? Don’t stop anywhere, promise me? Ally?”

“Yes. I promise.” I hung up and, with shaking hands, put the car in reverse and backed out of my spot. I concentrated on not hyperventilating while I drove. I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing freely down my face and my stomach immediately started to hurt. Jack was waiting for me in front his uncle’s auto body shop, pacing, when I pulled up. He waited impatiently while I unlocked the door, then wrenched it open, barely waiting for me to undo my seatbelt before pulling me into his arms.

“Are you okay?” he said against my hair.

I nodded. “Yes. I’m just scared. Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know, babe, but I’m going to kill the son of bi—” His words were drowned out by the squeal of Rémy’s tires as he sped into the parking lot and parked next to my car. Of course. When my thoughts went crazy like they had when I discovered the rose, I couldn’t keep anything from him. I’m sure my fear transmitted to him like a homing beacon.

“Is she all right?” he demanded.

“Yeah, just scared. Rémy, can’t you do anything about this? Can’t you, I don’t know, get vibes or something from the rose about who it is?” Jack asked.

“Probably not, but I can try,” he shrugged. “Let me see it.”

“I threw it out. I didn’t want it in my car.” I pulled away from Jack and wiped my eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, chérie. Don’t worry about it. If it happens again, though, save it.”

“You two must be getting sick of rescuing me.” I sniffed, searching through my coat pockets for a tissue.

“No, chérie. It’s my job,” Rémy replied as he handed me a handkerchief. I know, a handkerchief? And, yes, it was monogrammed.

“Actually, it’s my job,” Jack spit out through gritted teeth, his jaw flexing in irritation.

“I was speaking of the prophecy,” Rémy said. “You don’t own her, you know.”

“Okay, you two. Let’s dial it down.” I stepped between them, hoping to deflect a little of the free flowing testosterone. “I don’t want it to be anyone’s job. I want to stand on my own two feet. I hate this!” I nearly stamped my foot in frustration.

Rémy put his arm around me and pulled me in for an awkward side hug, probably to keep Jack from slugging him. “Ally, you are one of the strongest people I know. This is too big for one person to handle. If, as my grandparents think, it concerns Seers, then it also involves Mina and myself. Don’t be afraid to lean on us. We want—no—we need to help.”

I hugged him briefly and then stepped back into the shelter of Jack’s arms. “Querida, don’t make me tell you why it’s my job,” he warned.

“I know. I just don’t like feeling helpless.”

“You are the least helpless person I know. Nobody who has been knocked flat on their ass by your blue light power-thingy would ever think you’re helpless,” Jack assured me.

“That’s for sure,” Rémy muttered.

“Rémy, will you follow her home? I’ll come by after work, Ally, okay?”

“Yeah,” I said, trying to smile. “Stay for dinner. I’m not cooking, don’t worry. It’s Mina’s turn so it will be delicious.”

“You’re not that bad a cook. Anyway, I just want to be with you.”

“I’m a terrible cook and I know it. Rémy, you should stay too.”

“We’ll see. Are you ready to go?”

***

To
my flame-haired minx:
Tu es ma joie de vivre. “
What is one man’s and one woman’s love and desire, against the history of two worlds?”

“Son of a bitch!” Jack exclaimed, throwing the
Daily Lobo
on the table in aggravation. “This has got to stop!” The creepy personal ads had picked back up the second week of the semester at least once and sometimes twice a week. “Is the quote from a book you’re reading?”

I didn’t say anything; I just gestured to the book that sat on the tabletop,
Four Ways to Forgiveness
by Ursula LeGuin. It was one of the creepiest aspects of the ads, the fact that the writer always knew what I was reading at the moment. I stopped reading the paper, sick to death of the personal ads and the unwelcome notoriety that went with them. People still stopped to ask if I was the red-haired girl referred to in the ads, and although I always told them no, it still annoyed me to have random strangers accost me in the SUB.

“I am going to find out who is placing those ads,” Jack promised. “I’m fed up with this.”

“Jack, forget it. There’s no way to find out. Brian has tried, but without probable cause he can’t get a warrant. It’s fine. There’s really no harm being done.”

“No physical harm, maybe, but it’s doing a number on you mentally, Ally. You don’t say much about it, but I can tell it adds to your stress.”

He was right, but I kept quiet. My stress was at an all-time high and it was all I could do to keep functioning on a daily basis. The roses continued, as well, often appearing on my windshield, other times waiting for me on my front porch, once even delivered to me at work. Although
Rémy and I had both tried to sense where they came from by holding them, all we got was a blank. Rémy was convinced this was proof that Seers were somehow involved because any normal item would have some residual energy; the roses were a completely blank slate.

“Okay,” Jack sighed, standing up. “This is me not talking about it anymore. What do you want for lunch?”

“Um, just a bottle of water, please. I’m not hungry right now.”

He sat back down and took my hand, waiting until I looked up. “Wrong answer, babe. You need to eat. I know this makes your stomach hurt, but you gotta eat something. You’re losing weight.”

I smiled crookedly. He was concerned about my stomach issues and lack of appetite, as was my family. “Sure, okay. Get me a sandwich. Thanks.” He brought me back a veggie wrap, which I used to love, but didn’t look appetizing in the least at the moment. I knew he expected me to eat it, so I made an attempt, nibbling at one half before I realized I would throw up if I continued. “I swear I’ll eat it later, Jack. I just can’t right now. That stupid ad,” I finished on a whisper, ashamed to feel tears building. I sniffed and tossed my head, determined not to let the stress, the ads, or the stalker win.

“Okay,” he said grimly. “It’s okay, babe. Hey,” he changed the subject, “you remember that I have training this weekend?”

I nodded. “Yeah, and I’m going to miss you.”

“I wasn’t fishing for that,” he said. “Why don’t you do something fun while I’m gone? Go have a spa day or something with Tara and Mina. Maybe spend the weekend with your mom and Brian. You haven’t seen Elijah in a while.”

“Yeah. That sounds good. I’ll do something.”

“Ally, promise me, please? I need to know that you’ll do something for yourself, something that will relax you. You’re wound so tight, babe. I’m really worried.”

“Hey, it’s me,” I tried to joke. “I’m strong, remember? I thought we already established that.”

“Promise,” he pressed.

“I promise.”

***

I kept my promise, but not in the way he expected. Sunday night I stood in the kitchen of his apartment and put the finishing touches on what I hoped would be a delicious enchilada dinner to welcome him home after a long, hard weekend of army training. When he returned from these monthly training gigs, he always headed over to my house to spend time with me, regardless of how exhausted he was. Tonight, he would be able to relax in his own apartment and not have to drive anywhere. I had made Tara promise to keep Mat away until much later in the evening. I heard the key in the lock and the door open, accompanied by the sound of the thud of his duffle bag as he dropped it on the floor.

“Mat? You here? What’s cooking? It smells great—” He stopped short in the doorway of the kitchen, surprised to see me setting the table. “Ally? What are you doing here? God, you’re a sight for sore eyes!” He pulled me into his arms for a long, deep kiss. “Sorry. I know I reek, but I absolutely could not resist. What are you doing here?”

“You smell fine.” He didn’t, but it wasn’t important. “I made you dinner.”

He smiled. “You didn’t have to do that. I eat at your place twice as much as I eat here, you know.”

“I know, but this is a special dinner. It’s almost certainly edible. Why don’t you take a shower while I finish up here?” He kissed me quickly and headed off to the bathroom. I heard the shower start as I peeked into the oven to check the enchiladas. I stirred the rice and beans, double checked the table, and went to check on Jack. The shower had cut off a few minutes before, so I figured he should be dressed by now. “Hey.” I knocked on his half-open bedroom door. “You about ready?” I peeked around the door as he was zipping up his jeans.

“Yeah, I just gotta grab a shirt.” He rummaged through his dresser drawer, looking for a clean t-shirt.

I sauntered in and sat on his bed, enjoying the sight of his strong back as he leaned over the dresser. I looked around his bedroom, noticing that most of the furniture had come from his room at Manny and Trina’s; he still had the same twin bed and mismatched nightstand. There were a couple of movie posters on the wall, a small bookshelf crammed full of novels, mostly spy thrillers, and that was it. He certainly didn’t go in for the over-decorated look. I inhaled, enjoying how his scent clung to the bedclothes.

“You’re playing with fire, querida.” He leaned against his dresser, t-shirt forgotten, arms crossed, watching me through narrowed eyes.

“What?” I really tried to sound innocent. “I’m just sitting here on your bed, minding my own business.”

“Oh, yeah? Minding your own business, huh?” he said as he uncrossed his arms and stalked over to the bed. He sat down beside me and framed my face in his big hands. “You are going to get us both in trouble.” He leaned in to kiss me, pushing me down onto the bed. We lay side-by-side, kissing for several long, glorious minutes before he pulled back and stared down into my face, running his fingers through my hair, spreading it out on his pillow. “Well, this will certainly fuel my fantasies for the next several months.”

I smiled up at him. “You say the sweetest things, Jack.” I played with the dog tags hanging from his neck, running my fingers through the dark hair sprinkled on his chest.

He ran his fingers down my neck and onto my collarbone, pushing my shirt aside to kiss my shoulder. His hand left that spot to run up under my shirt in the back, over my ribs. For once he dared to run them up the front, and just as I thought things were about to get truly interesting, I realized what he was actually doing.