Soulbound: A Lone Star Witch Novel (36 page)

I turn to face him and he’s watching me carefully. I try to make up an excuse, but everything that flits through my mind sounds lame. I’ve got nothing.

Ryder steps even closer. “Hey, Xan, calm down.” He wraps an arm around me and starts walking me toward the curb. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”

I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin. I don’t know what to do. My instincts are screaming at me to get out of this, to get away from Ryder, but the rest of me thinks it’s insane to even suspect him. This is Ryder, the guy who helped teach me how to ride a bike. Who gave me boy advice when I was thirteen and in love with the biggest jerk at school. He’s no threat to me.

Except at this moment, it kind of feels like he is.

I pull away and make a mad dash for the street. There has to be a cab around here somewhere, have to be some people walking their dog. If I can just get there—

“Hey!” Ryder yells and then he’s running after me. “Xandra? What are you doing? You’re going to hurt yourself!”

I don’t care. Everything inside of me is yelling for me to get the hell away from him. I don’t know if it’s the cowboy boots or my reawakened magic, courtesy of Declan, or simply my subconscious run wild. And frankly, I don’t give a damn right now. If I’m acting like a maniac I’ll deal with it later. Right now, I just want to get away.

I’m almost to the relative safety of the street when I hit a slick patch on the still wet ground. My boots, with their flat, not-yet-broken-in soles, skid out from under me and I go flying. I hit the ground hard.

Adrenaline races through me and I scramble to my feet, despite the stabbing pain running down my right knee. Behind me, Ryder curses and he’s close enough that I can feel his fingers brushing against my jacket. I try to lay on the speed, but I’m hobbling now—adrenaline or not—and I know that whatever escape I was mounting is over. There’s no way to evade Ryder now.

Just one more reason to tell my mother where she can put these damn cowboy boots.

“Xandra, stop!” Ryder’s hand closes around my elbow and yanks me to a halt. “What the hell is going on?”

Every self-defense move Donovan has ever taught me flits through my brain. I twist my arm away at the same time I hook my ankle behind his and kick through. It’s his turn to stumble and his grip loosens—just as I intended.

I pull my arm from his grasp and back up, making sure to keep him in my sights. My heart is beating wildly and my brain is screaming at me that I’m making a mistake. That I’ve got this all wrong. But I don’t care, can’t afford to care. Not right now. I’m not going to end up like Lina and Amy and Jacqueline. Not if I can help it.

“What the hell, Xandra?” Ryder sounds exasperated and a little concerned. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I continue backing away from him. “I need to get home.”

“Let me take you. My car is just around the corner.”

I shake my head. There’s no way I’m getting in a car with Ryder. Not right now, not when I can’t tell what is real and what is a figment of my overstressed imagination. “I’m good. It’s not that far, just a block or two.”

He sighs, thrusts a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I know where you live. It’s more than a couple blocks. And look, it’s starting to rain.”

He holds a hand up, as if to show me the nonexistent raindrops. At that precise moment, lightning flashes and thunder rumbles across the sky. Seconds later, it opens up and rain pours down on us.

Damn magic. And damn Ryder, too. “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I like the rain.”

“What the hell is going on with you?” He sounds bewildered, and something else. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s enough, though. I turn and flee.

I’ve gone only a few steps when he catches up to me—his hand wrapped around my upper arm. That’s it. I’ve had it.

I turn around, my hands bent into claws and I go for the eyes. Only it’s not Ryder who’s holding me. It’s Declan.

W
hat the hell? Where did he come from?

I try to check my lunge, but it’s too late. The thought must register in Declan’s mind too, because at the last second he turns his head and my nails rake down his cheek instead of gouging out his eye. And even though I do my best to stop, I come away with a few layers of skin anyway.

“Shit!” I get a quick glimpse of blood dripping down Declan’s face as he twists me around so that my back is to his front. Then he wraps his arms around me and holds me in place, my own arms crossed over my chest.

His hold is gentle, tender even, and it keeps me from freaking out at being so completely immobile. At the same time, though, there’s still a small part of me that wants to go for his knees. I control it. Declan isn’t hurting me—in fact, he’s going out of his way to make sure neither one of us gets hurt. That knowledge is enough to let me breathe.

“You want to tell me what the fuck is going on?” The words are deep and growly and at first I think they’re directed at me.

I bristle, start to twist against him—for all the good it will do me—when I realize it isn’t me he’s upset with. It’s Ryder.

“How should I know?” Ryder answers, a wary look on his face that shows that he, too, is aware of the danger
crackling in the air all around us. “We were down by the lake and she freaked out. I was only trying to help.”

Is that true? I wonder frantically. Was the threat I felt from him completely in my head? It didn’t feel that way at the time, but now that I’m safe I just don’t know. I hate the uncertainty, the sudden inability to trust my instincts. I don’t have magic, or at least, none that I can actually rely on. If my instincts are shot, too, I’m not sure what I’ll do.

Declan finally realizes that I have no plans to attack a second time and lets me go, slowly. But before I can do more than wipe the rain from my face, he steps in front of me and blocks me from Ryder’s gaze. Then, with one wave of his hand the rain disappears, as does the moisture in my clothes and hair. In fact, I’m perfectly dry when Declan turns to me and points toward the street. “My car is up there. Go wait in it and I’ll drive you home.”

I start to argue on general principle but the fact is, the car is looking pretty damn good right about now. Especially when I know Declan and Ryder are about to come to blows.

I should stay and listen to whatever they say—maybe it will help me figure things out. But the look on Declan’s face says that I don’t have a choice. Either I get to the car under my own power or I’ll get there under his. That kind of high-handedness would normally get him a knee in the groin, but I’m beat right now. The emotion and adrenaline from earlier is crashing down around me and all I really want is to get someplace safe. Someplace where I can’t feel the violent lash of the wind against my skin or see the hurt in Ryder’s gaze.

The irony of Declan being my safe place is not lost on me as I turn and trudge to the car. The ground is still wet, a sign that he’s even more upset than I thought. Or conserving his magic for something more important. Like a battle with Ryder.

The thought makes my stomach hurt. I’ve lived with magic my whole life, but I’ve never been comfortable with that aspect of it. I glance over my shoulder as I climb into the car. Though I can’t hear what they’re saying, it’s obvious that the two of them are arguing. Declan’s back is to me, but the air around him crackles with his rage. Ryder’s holding his ground, but his face is pale and his hands are raised in the universal sign for surrender.

The wind picks up—ice-cold and ominous—and I have to wrestle against it to get the car door closed. I’m still catching my breath when the driver’s-side door flies open and Declan slides smoothly behind the wheel. The already frigid temperature plummets inside the car.

“Did he hurt you?” he demands as he jams the key in the ignition.

“No. He didn’t touch me.”

“But he upset you.” He turns to me, brushes a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. “I felt it the second I got out of the car.”

“I think it was the place more than Ryder. I was already freaking out, feeling like something sinister was closing in on me, and then there he was, dripping blood.” I flush, embarrassed by my earlier fear now that I’m safely ensconced in Declan’s car. “I’m not used to blood sorcery and I overreacted.”

He studies me. “Are you sure that’s all it was?”

Can’t he see that I’m not sure of anything? I haven’t felt this insecure since my nineteenth birthday and I’m really not enjoying it any more the second time around. Banishing the confusion—or at least locking it away in the back corner of my mind—I nod. “I’m fine.”

He relaxes at my reassurance, the car temperature warming just enough to defrost my fingertips. “I’m glad.” He cups my face in his hand, runs his thumb gently over my lips. “I don’t like it when you’re upset.”

The heat ratchets up another twenty notches, until frostbite is the last thing on my mind. The irony of his words isn’t lost on me, considering the fact that I’m usually at my most upset around him, because of him. But right now that doesn’t seem to matter. Nothing does, not when he’s touching me like I’m fragile. Like I’m somehow precious to him.

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I part my lips and nip sharply at his thumb.

His eyes darken, his fingers sliding around the back of my head to tangle in my hair. He tugs a little, urges my face closer to his and I know he’s going to kiss me. More, I welcome his kiss despite all the mixed-up emotions pinging around inside of me. Or maybe because of them. I don’t know. All I know is that I want Declan’s mouth on mine more than I’ve wanted anything in a very long time.

I lean toward him, my eyes closing of their own volition. But the sound of a car door slamming close by yanks me out of my reverie. Tires squeal and I look up just in time to see Ryder burn rubber down the street. His obvious distress makes me feel terrible.

“I’m really sorry,” I tell Declan. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble between you and Ryder.”

He studies me for long seconds without answering, his eyes cataloging every inch of my face. And when he finally does speak, his voice is low and smoky with unmistakable desire. “We’ve gone around before and we’ll go around again. It’s you I’m worried about.”

I feel a tug deep inside of myself, an invisible thread pulling Declan and me closer and closer with each second that passes. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.

Is this what it means to be soulbound? I wonder a little frantically. This overwhelming compulsion to press myself against Declan until I’m all but inside him? Until
he’s inside me? Until we’re both so wrapped up in each other that nothing else matters? Maybe then this emptiness inside me will be filled, the loneliness gone forever.

The thought frightens me, has me pulling away to stare out the window. Declan makes a frustrated sound deep in his throat, but I don’t let myself care. I can’t afford to, not when everything in my life is this mixed up. The murders, the compulsion, my magic, my response to Declan. How much of what I’m feeling is because of him and me and how much of it is because we’re soulbound?

I don’t know the answer, and until I do, I can’t afford to let anything happen between us. Eight years ago I fell for him hard and ended up with nothing but a broken heart to show for it. I’m older and wiser now, or so I like to think. I won’t make that mistake a second time.

Declan must be able to read my changing mood, because he swears bitterly under his breath before starting the car engine. Seconds later, we’re slipping into traffic, cruising toward my house.

I don’t say anything else, and neither does he. At least not until we’re turning the corner onto my street, and when he finally does speak, his voice is so low that I have to strain to hear it. “I would never have done it.”

“Done what?” I ask, mystified. Is he talking about the murders?

“Hurt you. I know I said I’d planned to kill you, but even before I saw you, I knew I wasn’t going to go through with it.” He pulls to the curb in front of my house, but doesn’t turn to look at me. Instead, he stares straight ahead, his jaw working furiously. “From the moment I knew you existed, I searched for you. I told myself it was to do what had to be done, but even then I knew.

“I could feel you—all that warmth and compassion and determination to succeed—deep inside me and I knew I would never be able to harm you.”

“Even though I might end up destroying you?”

“What do you know of destruction?”

I think of all those hours, months,
years
up in my room, practicing magic. Trying to be someone my mother would be proud of and losing a little more of myself every time it didn’t work.

Declan doesn’t need to know that, though. No one does. Besides, I know evasion when I see it and I’m not about to let him get away with it. Not this time.

“I know we’re soulbound,” I tell him, laying my cards on the table.

He does turn his head then, his obsidian eyes blazing into mine. “Where did you hear that term?”

“That doesn’t matter—”

“Tell me, Xandra.” He looms over me wearing his darkest warlock face, but I refuse to be intimidated. It’s been eight years since we first met and I barely know any more about our situation now than I did then. When I was nineteen, my ignorance wasn’t my fault. Now, if I continue to keep my mouth shut, continue to live without answers, it most certainly will be.

With that in mind, I lift my chin, keeping my eyes locked with his. “You know a hell of a lot more about it than I do, so why don’t
you
tell
me
?”

For long seconds, he doesn’t answer—so long that I begin to think that he
won’t
answer. But then he surprises me by saying, “The truth is, I should have told your parents about it as soon as I’d found you. I didn’t because…”

He has trouble finishing, so I do it for him. “Because you didn’t want them to be prepared when you came to take care of the problem.”

He glares at me. “No offense, Xandra, but the warlock I was then wouldn’t have been afraid of what your parents could do to me.”

“You were really that powerful?”

He lifts an eyebrow, looks impossibly arrogant and appealing. “I’m still that powerful. But back then, I was untouchable. That’s what started the whole mess to begin with. It had nothing to do with you or your family and everything to do with me.”