Spirit (19 page)

“What else am I supposed to do? All I’ve ever heard is that full Elementals are supposed to die before they can hurt anyone. And we’re supposed to be the ones to do it, because our connection to the Fifth element is what allows us the greatest connection to the spirit, to follow through and do what’s
right
.”

“I know,” he said, almost gently. “I drank the Kool-Aid, too.”

They sat there breathing the air for the longest time, until she shivered and regretted the cropped top.

Hunter put a hand out. “Keys?”

Sheepishly, she handed them to him. He started the engine and kicked on the heat—which seemed counterintuitive with the top down. But warmth rushed out of the vents, and she put her hands against them. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Then he shrugged out of his pullover and handed it to her.

She took it in surprise, glad he was looking at the road as he pulled out, instead of at her. The fleece fabric was warm from his body, and it smelled like him, some faint delicious musky scent like a hint of cologne or body wash. She hugged it to her chest and inhaled.

After a minute, she looked over. “Where are we going?”

“Anywhere you want.” He threw a glance her way. “I can still teach you to drive a stick if you want.”

His tone was easy. Amiable. Almost desperate for some kind of normal.

Had her admission let them find some kind of truce?

She reached out a hand and clicked on the radio. “Just drive.”

“T
his feels kinda like that scene in
Look Who’s Talking
,” Tsaid Kate.

Hunter smirked. “Put your hand on my stick?” he quoted.

“Exactly.”

“That was a plane, and you’re not Kirstie Alley.”

“Yeah, well, you’re no John Travolta.”

“Thank god for that.”

She had no idea where they were—but she liked that. They’d driven for well over an hour, maybe two, until the highway started to wind through mountains and there were signs for falling rock. The air was cooler here, sharp and biting against her cheeks. Hunter had found an abandoned parking lot—in front of an abandoned department store—and he was teaching her to drive his car.

She’d only stalled the vehicle once before figuring out the balance between the clutch and the accelerator.

“You’re better at this than I thought you’d be,” Hunter said.

“Is that an insult or a compliment?”

“Lady’s choice.”

And now she didn’t know whether to smile or smack him. Everything felt tentative. Precarious, like a small tap in either direction would have them at each other’s throats again. “We’re only going ten miles per hour.”

“Want to try it on the highway?”

“What? No!”

“There’s no one here. Give it some gas, just don’t hit a light pole. See if you can figure out when it’s time to switch.”

She accelerated, and the car sped up, but she could feel the engine struggling in this gear, like something confined trying to break free. She hit the clutch, felt the release, and moved the stick.

The car stalled and the engine died.

Kate swore.

“Put it back in first,” he said. “You tried to jump to third. Second is straight back.”

“Intuitive,” she said, looking at the little ball on the top of the stick.

“Well, for most people . . .”

Now she did smack him.

When she went to move the stick, his hand came over hers and stopped the motion. “Clutch first.”

She did, then moved into first gear.

She didn’t want to pull her hand out from under his to start the engine, but she had to.

When she put her hand on the stick shift again, however, his hand went back over hers.

“Accelerate,” he said. She did, and when the engine was struggling again, he said, “Now try.”

This time he helped her pull it straight back into second gear, and then, with more encouragement, she went faster and shifted into third. Wind was lifting her hair, and her heart was flying.

They came to the end of the parking lot, so she hit the brakes.

The car stalled again.

She swore again.

Hunter was laughing. “It takes practice.”

Kate looked at him. “Who taught you? Your dad?”

That killed his smile. “No, actually. My uncle. The jeep used to be his. He said if I learned on a stick shift, I’d be able to drive anything.”

She was quiet for a while. “Did he and your dad really die in a rock slide?”

“Yeah.” He paused. “About three miles north of here. Dad had military clearance, so they kept it out of the papers. Even the funeral was pretty private.”

She wondered if he’d pulled off for the driving lesson just so he wouldn’t have to drive through there again. “And you still don’t think the Merricks had anything to do with it?”

He looked at her. “I know they didn’t. Calla all but admitted to being behind it.”

Kate pulled the emergency brake and shifted on the seat to look at him. “She did? And you didn’t—”

He avoided her eyes and looked back at the dashboard again. “I should have.”

Her heart was thundering in her chest now. “Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t?”

“I had an opportunity—and I couldn’t pull the trigger.”

Kate swallowed.

Hunter looked at her. That streak of white hair fell across his eyes, catching the sunlight. “So I guess you’ve got one on me,” he said. “How did you do it?”

She blinked.

“Your mom,” he said. “When you went after the Water Elemental.”

Oh. Right.

She’d given this speech before, when she’d been questioned.

She’d spent an hour memorizing exactly how to answer.

“Two bullets,” she said. “He’d run to the end of a pier—going for the water, I’m sure. I got him first. A shot to the hip brought him down. One to the head took him out.”

Hunter didn’t say anything, and her words hung in the air, sharp and dark and painful.

Then he finally exhaled, and she realized she’d been holding her breath, too.

“What did you do with the body?” he asked.

“Pushed it into the water.”

“Callous.”

Like before, she didn’t know if that was an insult or a compliment. “It was almost morning. I needed to do something quickly.”

“And how did you feel?”

She jerked her head around. “What?”

“How. Did. You. Feel?” His voice was quiet, yet deliberate.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “I don’t really want to talk about this.”

Hunter reached out and pushed a piece of hair back from her face, his fingers gentle against her skin as he tucked it behind her ear. “Last night I was wondering what it would be like to trust you.”

Her eyes flicked up and caught his. “I’ve wondered the same thing.” She had to take a breath. “About you.”

His expression was tight, as if he were thinking, or deliberating.

Finally, he said, “I don’t want any harm to come to the Merricks.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“I know Silver won’t fix the mess with Calla and the middle schoolers and just leave town.”

He was right. She couldn’t even deny it.

She wet her lips. “Then why are you helping us?”

“Because I feel like I have to.” He met her eyes. “You know.”

He was talking about his dad. Her mom.

Yeah, she knew.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “They’re leaving in a week. They don’t know I know.”

She sat up straight. “They’re
leaving
?” She wondered if Silver had any idea. He couldn’t possibly. He’d be bombing their house
right now
.

“I don’t know where they’re going,” Hunter added.

“Lucky for them.” This was—this was—she wasn’t sure what. Good? Bad? She couldn’t even nail down her emotions. Hell, she could barely catch her breath.

“I’m trusting you with this,” said Hunter. A note of desperation had crept into his voice.

Like maybe he’d be on the phone to Michael Merrick in two seconds if she gave any indication of passing this information along.

Silver would kill her if he found out she knew.

But she’d seen Gabriel step into the line of fire to pull Hunter to safety. She’d seen Nick’s kindness firsthand. She’d been with Silver when they watched Michael drag Hunter out of a mood and take him on a job. She’d seen them operate as a family, both with their Elemental abilities and without.

What had Silver ever offered? What had her mother?

She felt like she was running a race, right here in the driver’s seat of his jeep.

“If you tell Silver,” said Hunter, “it’s really no different from you pulling the trigger yourself.”

“No kidding,” she snapped. God, she couldn’t
think
.

“I don’t think you want to harm them, either.”

“Yeah? How do you know
that
?”

He looked at her, hard. “Because I don’t think you really killed that guy on the end of some pier.”

She threw her hands up. “Where do you think I did it, then?” she cried, incredulous.

“I don’t think you did it at all!”

He might as well have shoved her out of the car and slammed her head against the pavement. She was sitting in an open top jeep and she couldn’t breathe.

Kate flung the door open and swung her legs out. She had to walk.

She should be texting Silver about the Merricks right now.
Right now
. This was the kind of thing that would get her back on his good side.

Hunter caught her arm and swung her around.

Kate stared up at him. She should disable him somehow, steal his jeep and his phone and take off down the highway—

Then again, she’d probably only make it about half a mile.

Whatever, she’d have no trouble flagging down a ride. She’d be back in Annapolis, Hunter would be stranded here, and the Merricks wouldn’t be much more than a memory and a closed file.

Hunter caught her other arm, and his hands were gentle. She almost wished she’d given him back the pullover so she could feel his palms against bare skin.

Then he didn’t say anything.

She had a thousand insults to fling at him, words to deflect his attention.

Instead, she said, “How? How did you know?”

“Because you’re not callous,” he said carefully.

“You’re wrong. I am.”

“No. You’re not.” He paused. “You called my name, the night Silver shot me.”

She looked away.

“You did,” said Hunter. “I know you did.”

“He misunderstood what you were doing with Calla.”

Hunter brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “You were upset when you thought I broke Noah Dean’s arm.”

“Because I thought it was a stupid move on school property.”

Hunter smiled. “You didn’t kill me the morning after the carnival.”

“I was busy. Figured I had time.”

Now he laughed, but he quickly sobered. His hands found her cheeks, blocking the wind, his palms warm against her face. He leaned down until his forehead was touching hers and they breathed the same air.

It felt so good to be held this way, just the two of them in a deserted parking lot on the side of a mountain, nothing around but earth and sky.

Far, far away from Elementals and death and danger and betrayal.

“I’d like to kiss you,” said Hunter softly. “But I’d really like to try it without any lies between us.”

For some reason, that made her eyes burn, and she worried that tears had found their way to her eyes.

His thumb stroked along her cheek, terrible confirmation.

“I don’t remember how to do that,” she whispered.

A smile found his lips. “How to kiss?”

She squished her eyes shut and shook her head quickly. “How to be true.”

He kissed her eyelids, first the left, then the right. “Yes you do, Kate.”

She let a breath ease out and was surprised to find that it shook. She’d never spoken these words to anyone, and saying them now almost burned because the weight of her failure was behind them. “I didn’t kill the man who killed my mother.”

She was ready for him to dig, to ask why, to turn this into an interrogation. But he hesitated, his breath warm on her temple. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. God, no.”

Then the cord of tension snapped, and his mouth found hers.

Hunter was fierce and gentle, but there was nothing aggressive about this kiss, nothing angry. This felt like a first kiss—not just with him, but . . . but
ever
. No pretense, no games, just a boy kissing a girl because of wildfire attraction.

And here, in the middle of nowhere, there was no need to shield their abilities. His power surged and whispered against her skin. The air chilled and warmed her simultaneously, but she felt heat in his touch. The earth rejoiced that they were here, full of energy and talent and letting it ride out in streamers.

His tongue brushed her lips, teasing. Her lips parted, allowing him in, drawing at his mouth until she pulled a gasp from his throat and his hands snaked under the sweatshirt.

They’d done this before, but now was different. Somehow new and familiar at the same time. Her insides were melting away, and it was a good thing his hands were there to hold her up because she was falling against him. A hand cupped her breast, and she moaned into his mouth, arching her back when his thumb found the most sensitive bits.

Suddenly she wasn’t chilly at all.

In fact, she could do with a lot less clothing.

Her hands explored under the hem of his T-shirt, stroking along the planes of his stomach, tracing the muscles of his chest. One of his hands stroked down her back and found its way beneath the waistband of her jeans, just an inch, maybe two, but just feeling his fingers on more sensitive skin had her panting into his mouth.

He dragged the sweatshirt over her head before she even knew what he was doing. Then his mouth was on her neck, his hands grabbing her thighs and lifting her, carrying her back to the car in such a way that she wanted him to quit with the gentle stuff and push her up against the side of the car, just to feel the sheer power of it.

He did exactly that. It felt even better than she expected. The radio was still on, some announcer’s voice filling the afternoon air with football scores or weather reports or even the price of tea in China.

She so didn’t care, because Hunter’s shirt was gone and he was kissing inside the neckline of her top. He was pressed so tightly against her that she could feel everything, and it was amazing and terrifying and sensual and breathless and she couldn’t think.

Her hands groped for the button to his jeans. Hunter made a low sound, an encouraging sound.

But then he broke the kiss and caught her wrist. “Wait,” he said, his voice rough.

And worried. He reached past her and turned up the radio. “What did he just say?”

Kate could barely comprehend English, and she struggled to wrap her brain around this sudden shift. “What is it? What—”

“Shh.” He put a finger over her lips, his attention on the radio.

Then she picked up what the announcer was saying.