Spirit (18 page)

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Authors: Brigid Kemmerer

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance, #Fantasy & Magic, #Paranormal

BOOK: Spirit
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She grabbed his hand and put the gauze back. “Shut up and take some mothering for five minutes.”
It shut him up, but not because she said so.
Because a memory hit him right between the eyes.
Not his father this time, but his mother. He couldn’t remember how old he was, probably ten or eleven because everything in the memory looked
bigger.
He’d come home from school with his first split lip and a cut over his eye, and he’d been more scared of how his father would react than of all the bullies in the county.
His mother had dressed his wounds and given him a Popsicle and promised that she’d make sure his father wouldn’t be hard on him.
He couldn’t remember how that had turned out.
But he could remember trusting her.
Hannah was removing the backing from a butterfly bandage. “Doing all right?”
Her fingers were gentle when she pressed the adhesive strip against his forehead, and it was harder than it should’ve been to shake off the memory. “Yeah. Long day.”
“Tell me about it.” She pulled another bandage out of the box.
He’d assumed she was older than Michael, what with the kid and the job and the don’t-take-any-crap attitude, but now, sitting this close to her in the dim kitchen lighting, he realized she wasn’t very old at all.
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-two.”
“But you have a son,” he said, before realizing that made him sound like a moron.
She must have thought the same thing because she gave him a look and said, “Oh, so they’re not teaching sex ed anymore?”
He felt heat color his cheeks. “No. Sorry—I shouldn’t—”
“It’s fine. People ask all the time. I got pregnant my junior year of high school.” She shrugged. “It happens a lot. I’m lucky.”
“Lucky?”
She put a third bandage across his forehead. “Yeah. My parents are great. I can work and go to school part-time, and they help with James.”
“You go to school? But you have a job.”
“I’d like to be a full paramedic. I’m just an EMT now.” Her hands went still on his forehead, and she met his eyes. “You and Gabriel weren’t fighting over a girl, were you?”
Michael came through the doorway. “Jesus, I wish it were that easy.”
Hunter glared at him around Hannah’s hands. “I told you I’d end up punching him in the face.”
“Yeah, thanks. You left out the part about destroying the foyer in the process.” Michael stroked a hand down the back of Hannah’s head, then squeezed her shoulder. His expression gentled when he looked down at her. “You still want some coffee?”
She turned her head to smile up at him. Her voice softened. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
Hunter watched this exchange and instantly felt like a third wheel.
But he also felt envious, similar to the way he’d felt watching Noah Dean with his mother.
He’d seen his parents like this before, this gentle consideration for each other. Hunter had always believed it, until his father had destroyed everything, dropping a bomb about using women, and every personal relationship being a means to an end.
It meant that there’d never been anything honest about his father’s relationship with his mother.
But worse, Hunter didn’t know what it meant about his father’s relationship with
him
.
Even now, watching this casual touch between Michael and Hannah, he wanted to examine it and see what each was after.
And of course the minute he tried to decipher it, he erased the magic. Just like Kate jumping into his lap in the Ferris wheel car, it was all a carefully maneuvered ploy. Michael’s hand on Hannah’s hair was a mechanical touch to coerce her to stay, just like her soft voice had been a way to get a cup of—
“Hey,” said Michael. “Are you listening to me?”
Hunter pressed his hands to his eyes. God, he was going to make himself crazy. “No. Sorry.”
“I said I told Gabriel to knock this crap off. He said you were hassling Nick . . .”
That didn’t match what Gabriel had said in the hallway, but Hunter didn’t have the mental energy to figure it out now. “I wasn’t hassling Nick.”
Michael put up a hand. “Nick said the same thing, and then they started arguing, and I just wanted to blow my brains out because I didn’t realize I was living in a juvenile detention center.”
“Nice,” said Hannah.
Michael looked down at him. “Do you think you can make it through the night without breaking any bones?”
“Yeah,” said Hunter.
Michael glanced at her. “Is he fine?”
She looked at him. “Are you fine?”
He shoved out of the chair. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Gabriel was nowhere to be found. Nick was in bed again, reading the same book. Hunter felt like he’d already done this hours ago, though it had only been about twenty minutes.
He probably should have taken a Motrin before coming up here.
“Welcome back,” said Nick.
The funny thing was, his voice had lost its earlier edge. Hunter glanced at him. “Thanks.”
“When Chris was ten, we pushed him down the stairs. This was twice as entertaining.”
Hunter couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not, and it was hurting his head to try to figure it out. “Glad to amuse you.”
“It sure as hell made up for having to work tonight.”
Hunter still wasn’t sure how to take that. He climbed under the quilt on the air mattress and wished sleep would just take him away for a short while. After a bit, Nick clicked off the light, and Hunter’s thoughts started to fade.
Unfortunately, they kept solidifying on Kate, on the feel of her breath against his skin. He kept comparing that to the image of Michael’s hand on Hannah’s hair in the kitchen.
“You still like that Kate girl?” said Nick out of the blue.
Hunter almost choked on his own breath. “She’s all right.”
“She texted me to see if anything was going on this weekend, so I invited her over. Becca will be here, and Layne and her little brother—”
Hunter looked over at him in the darkness. “You—invited
Kate
over?”
“Yeah.” Nick’s voice was a little challenging. “That okay?”
Hunter told his heart to quit knocking around his rib cage.
Nick had asked her over.
She was probably coming for some sort of reconnaissance or something.
But Nick had asked her. And she’d accepted.
When had this happened? Why hadn’t she mentioned it?
Kate hadn’t texted Hunter all evening. He checked his phone just to be sure.
No messages from her.
He didn’t care.
He didn’t.
He
didn’t
.
Oh, who the hell was he kidding?
A pillow hit him in the head, and Hunter jumped a frigging
mile
.
He was so keyed up it was probably a miracle he didn’t draw his gun.
“Easy there, Zen Master Ninja,” said Nick, a wry note in his voice. “I invited her over for
you
.”
Hunter didn’t move for a moment. He studied Nick’s silhouette in the near dark. “For me?”
“Yeah,” said Nick. “Because seriously, dude, if anyone needs to cut loose with a chick for an hour, it’s
you
.”
C
HAPTER
24
H
unter was hiding in the basement.
Well, not really hiding. He was showing Simon how to break some basic holds. But if he was down here, he didn’t have to see Kate, and he didn’t have to listen to Gabriel’s minute-by-minute jabs. Much more of that, and Hunter wouldn’t give a crap about his promise to Michael—he’d finish what they’d started last night.
Everyone else was out on the back porch with pizza and soda, a scene straight out of a deodorant commercial or something.
He hadn’t started out hiding, but he’d heard the doorbell, the resulting footsteps overhead, and finally Nick’s yell that “everyone” was here.
Hunter said he’d be up in a minute and asked Simon if he wanted to keep working.
That was an hour ago.
If he was being honest with himself, he craved the simplicity of this. Teaching something to someone who needed the skills. No ulterior motive, no elements, no betrayal. Seeing Simon gain confidence as he figured out that he wasn’t powerless at all.
The basement door opened with a rattle and a creak, and Hunter held up a hand for Simon. Light footsteps came skipping down the wooden steps.
Kate? Hunter considered ducking into the alcove beside the washing machine.
Dude. Really.
It was Becca anyway, brown hair long and shining. She glanced between them. “Are you guys going to come up?”
“In a bit,” Hunter started—but Simon was nodding. He mimed needing a drink, then held out a fist for Hunter to bump.
Once he was gone, Hunter hoped Becca would follow Simon, but she remained in the basement, staring up at him.
“What’s up?” he said.
“You tell me.”
He shrugged. “Simon asked me to help him out, so—”
“Come on. Don’t do that.”
This was what he’d liked about her originally. Becca didn’t pull any punches—but she was gentle about it. “They don’t want me up there, Becca. Not really.”
“Nick said he invited Kate for you, and now you’re hiding in the basement.”
Hunter dropped onto the old sofa that sat against the cinderblock back wall. The basement wasn’t finished, but a bunch of old furniture sat down here, and he kicked his feet up on an ottoman with torn upholstery. “I also told Nick she’s a player, and I’m not interested.”
Becca smiled a little ruefully. “I believe that.”
Hunter frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means I’ve listened to her hit on every guy on the porch. I’m surprised she’s not mounting Casper.”
Oh, good. Just what he wanted to hear.
Becca flopped down next to him.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said. “I’m fine, really. I’m just not in the mood for a party.”
“I know you have a lot on your mind,” she said softly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
She shifted on the sofa until she was looking at him. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
He kept his eyes on the ceiling and tried not to imagine what was going on upstairs. “Shoot.”
“Have you ever been with a girl when you weren’t using her for something?”
She didn’t mean it as an attack, but his shoulders tightened anyway. He turned his head to look at her. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, Becca. I had—it was a lot—”
“I’m not looking for an apology, Hunter.” Her eyes were kinder than he deserved—and maybe a little mischievous. “I’m just saying that you were full of confidence with me, and now you’re hiding in the basement.”
“I’m not
hiding
.” But her comment was a little too close to what Michael had said last night, about running away.
“You know why I think you’re down here?” said Becca. “Because you
like
this girl. I think you stand to lose something you might care about, and that scares the crap out of you.”
Hunter refused to look away, but he didn’t have much of a retort.
He had to clear his throat to speak. “How do you know that?”
“Please. I saw the look on your face when I said Kate was hitting on everyone. Don’t worry, I think Quinn is about to yank her fingernails out by the roots.”
Another rattle and creak, and more footfalls were coming down the wooden steps.
Honestly, was
everyone
going to check on him?
Kate.
And Nick, followed by Quinn.
But seriously, it was a miracle he was able to look past Kate. She was wearing this tight sky-blue top with inch-thin straps and a ruffle at the bottom—and the bottom ended right at the base of her rib cage. Tight black jeans sat just below her belly button, exposing a solid few inches of very toned midsection.
He couldn’t have said what Nick and Quinn were wearing if someone held a gun to his head.
Kate snapped her fingers in his face. “My eyes aren’t that far south, slugger.”
He refused to let her make him blush. “Then you shouldn’t have worn that outfit.”
“I heard you were giving ass-kicking lessons down here.”
Her voice was challenging, and that was a lot easier to take than anything else. He still had no idea what she was doing here. Had she texted Nick last night just to screw with him?
“Sure am,” he said evenly. “Interested in an ass-kicking?”
Quinn had moved close to Nick, and just now she was murmuring something that made him laugh.
“What was that?” said Hunter.
“I said you should just go find a bedroom and get it over with.”
Kate smiled and stepped closer to Hunter. “I’ve got time if you know what to do with it.”
He wasn’t sure if that was an insult or a come-on. His eyes were right on level with the button on her jeans, and it was suddenly hard to think. “Told you, I’m busy with ass-kicking.”
She stepped forward until she was straddling his knees, then sat.
He tried to force his brain to think about other things, but his brain was more than content to think about the curvaceous female in his lap.
She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Come on, baby, teach me something I don’t know.”
Her voice was full of suggestion and his body wasn’t complaining.
And that’s exactly why he needed to shut her down.
“Sure,” he said, loading his voice with just as much suggestion—but adding a touch of mockery. “Want to learn how to drive a stick?”
Quinn snorted.
Kate was just staring at him, as if trying to sort through the innuendo. Some of her easy confidence stumbled a bit.
Good. It was nice to know she could falter.
While she was off balance, he put his hands on her waist and lifted her, setting her to the side and shoving a hand into his pocket for his keys. “Come on,” he said. “Try not to tear up my clutch.”
He was already on the steps, but she was just staring after him. “Your clutch—? What are—”
But he was already through the door, heading for his jeep, not bothering to wait to see whether she’d follow.
Kate had half a mind to let him just leave. It would serve him right, and she sure wasn’t the type to go scampering after a boy just because he snapped his fingers.
But the whole reason she’d come here was to talk to Hunter privately, and here he was giving her the perfect way to do just that.
She caught up to him beside his jeep. His dog was already in the back, flopped out on the backseat.
“Get in,” Hunter said.
He barely gave her time to obey, because he was throwing the car into gear before she even had the door closed.
Her heart was skipping to some rhythm she couldn’t figure out, but she pulled a stick of gum out of her bag like she was bored, then rolled it into her mouth. “Are we running from something?”
“No, I just needed to get out of there.”
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Tell me, Kate, do you have absolutely no self-confidence, or are you just completely full of yourself and you don’t give a shit about anyone else?”
She almost choked on the gum.
Hunter came to a stop sign at the end of the road and turned to look at her. “What are you really doing here?”
“I was invited.”
“Yeah, and how’d you drum up an invitation? Did you send Nick Merrick naked pictures of yourself?”
She wanted to punch him, but some part of his words were ringing true, and that stung like crazy. “What do you care if I did?”
He turned back to the road and hit the accelerator.
“Jealous much?” she said.
His jaw was so tight she could make out the lines where muscle met bone. “If we’ve decided the problem is Calla and a bunch of middle schoolers, you shouldn’t be hanging out with the Merricks.”
“They invited me!”
“You could’ve said no, you know.” He cut a glance her way. “Or is that foreign territory for you?”
“I’m a little sick of you acting like I’m some big slut.”
“Oh,
I’m
the one acting like you’re a big slut?”
She didn’t give a crap that he was driving, her fist was just flying in the general direction of his face.
He caught her wrist one-handed, and he wasn’t gentle about it. In a flash she saw that kid lying on the field, passing out from the pain in his arm.
She was about to pass out from the pain in her own.
Kate got ahold of his keys with her other hand, and killed the engine while they were still moving.
Then she used the fistful of keys to stab him in the crotch.
She was lucky he didn’t flip the car.
They ended up on the side of the road. Casper was standing up on the backseat, one paw on the center console. Hunter’s hands had a death grip on the steering wheel, and his forehead was between them.
“I think I might have to kill you,” he said. “Just as soon as I can stand up straight.”
Her heart found that odd syncopated rhythm again. “You deserved it.”
Hunter turned his head and looked at her over his fingers. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things to you.”
His apology took her by surprise more effectively than if he’d run off the road again. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had
apologized
to her.
And he’d done it so simply, like it was nothing.
But beyond the apology, she couldn’t get past the realization that he hadn’t struck back. She could still feel tenderness in her jaw from where Silver had knocked her around, and here Hunter took a solid hit with something like . . . grace.
She cleared her throat. “Are you just apologizing because you’ll never father children?”
“Probably.” She made like she was going to jab him again, and he winced, then almost smiled. “Nah. I mean it.”
She looked back at the road. A few houses sat down the way, but right here nothing but trees lined the roadway, and the jeep had kicked up a bunch of red and yellow leaves. The air swirled through her hair, just this side of chilly, making her want to tuck her hands under her thighs to warm her fingers.
She still couldn’t figure Hunter out, and she kept her hands where she could use them.
“What were you doing over there, really?” he said.
“I wanted to ask if you’ve seen Silver.”
That took him by surprise, and he straightened, little by little. “No. Why? Did something happen?”
“He didn’t come back to the apartment last night. He texted me to say he was working on something.” She didn’t add the rest of Silver’s commentary, how he’d told her to be a good little girl and stay out of trouble.
She couldn’t decide which she hated more: his condescension or his violence.
She examined her fingernails. “I thought maybe he was
working on something
with you.”
“Jealous much?”
She glared at him and wished it were something as simple as
jealousy
. “This is my job. You’re the one living with the enemy. I earned this position.”
“How?”
His eyes were intense, and there was no mockery in that question.
The answer was simple enough, but she faltered, trapped by his eyes.
When she didn’t say anything, Hunter volunteered an explanation for her. “Silver said you avenged your mother. That you killed the Water Elemental who killed her.”
She made her voice hard, until the edge almost hurt as the words passed her lips. “I did. So you see, this is
my
job. I earned it.”
He looked back at the steering wheel.
She studied him, the sandy blond hair that fell forward along his cheeks, the piercings in his eyebrow and ear, the foreign tattoos. She wanted to touch them, to find out if they were warm from his skin, to let power flow between them the way it had before.
What the hell was wrong with her? Weren’t they fighting?
“I haven’t talked to Silver,” he said. “Really, I thought I was going to be stuck here all weekend, waiting for school on Monday so I could try to question some of the other middle schoolers.”
She wondered just how he would have “questioned” them. “Gonna go break some more arms?”
“I didn’t break his arm.” He sounded bitter. There was a long pause. “I couldn’t have.”
No, he didn’t sound bitter.
He sounded disgusted.
She studied him in the sunlight. He looked over. “I’m not trying to take your job, Kate.” Then he flung himself back in the seat and ran his hands through his hair. “God knows I don’t want it.”
Her lips parted, and she was aware of breathing, but she couldn’t have said a word if she’d wanted to.
He didn’t
want
it?
His thumbs were running over the ridges in the steering wheel again. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt, so I’ll do what I have to do. But that doesn’t mean I like it.”
“I don’t like it, either,” she whispered.
He glanced over. “Then what was all the bravado about
your job
?”

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