Twist (21 page)
This was no warning.
“Get off of him!”
Simon came up from behind, and swung me by the hip towards the stairs.
“Silver, leave the room.”
“They’re going to kill each other, Simon. Get out of my way!”
Logan lacked mercy and killed without regret. I knew in that moment that I was willing to fight for my Ghuardian. My loyalty burned so deep it marked me like a river.
“Simon, get out of my way,” I said, shoving him.
He shoved back.
Anger culminated in his features, and he firmly gripped my shoulders. Fear struck through me like lightning.
Precious seconds lost squabbling
.
Logan’s black, bottomless eyes dragged across the floor and rose to watch us. Something switched gears in his attention, as if Justus no longer existed. My heart skipped a beat from his feral gaze as I struggled with Simon.
Faster than I could track, he lunged at us.
I flew off my feet, tumbling across the floor until I hit the wall. Logan crouched on top of me, knuckles pressed against the hard floor as he looked between Justus and Simon closing in on him. Talk about déjà vu.
Neither man looked Logan directly in the eye—averting their attention to the floor as they talked in low whispers. Logan planted his right foot behind my back and extended his left leg over my body. He was waiting for a challenger.
He pushed my shoulder with his hand when I tried to get up. My hair stuck to my face in sweaty strands. I wrapped my fingers around his arm, pushing at him.
“Ghuardian, stay back. I’ve seen him kill.”
Logan released a deep growl that filled the room like a hunter’s call.
Simon eyed one of the daggers on the wall.
Logan noticed.
My fingers burned with energy, but out of nowhere, guilt arrived. What kept me from hurting Logan was the fact he was protecting me. Maybe he had ulterior motives for not handing me over to the Mage that night, but he didn’t lack options. I owed him for that.
Seconds away from bloodshed, I squeezed his arm. “You really
are
nothing but an animal.”
I meant it, and I knew this would offend him most.
He peered over his shoulder—fangs retracted, skin coloring normal, and eyes ringed in gold.
Logan stood up on his feet and swung a long arm in my direction, pointing towards the small cut on my lip. His eyes never broke contact with Justus.
“Heal the female.”
***
I have always hated flying. I came into this world on an airplane, but it always felt more like a coffin than a cradle. Turbulence, barf bags, crying children, the giant engine roaring outside my window—these things were not for me. Nor was riding in coach, because my Ghuardian could afford first class tickets.
“I can’t believe Justus agreed to this,” I said, crossing my arms over my stomach.
Logan unbuckled his seatbelt and shifted in his seat. “We came to an agreement.”
“What kind?”
“That’s between us. The word of a Chitah is firm, and I’ve agreed to guard you in his stead. This was Simon’s brainchild, and I can see how he earned his reputation. If you were escorted by a Mage, it would only draw suspicion. I offer better protection to fight against another Mage.”
This trip was giving me an opportunity to do something of value. Having an identity crisis at age twenty-nine was never in my plans, and I was searching for my place in this new life. Justus divulged useful tips on Marco: the type of women he preferred, his drink of choice, and how to speak to him. Simon was confident that if anything would lure him out of his foxhole, it would be a female Mage.
One hour in flight, I burst down the aisle and threw up in the closet they called a bathroom. I returned to my seat with a miserable look on my face. We were hurtling through the air like a missile, and no one batted an eyelash as they continued filing their nails and reading magazines.
Logan’s hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and he looked at me with concern.
“Is there something I can do to ease you?”
“Knock me out?”
I shut my eyes and held my stomach. I should have listened to Simon about taking medication, but knowing his sense of humor, he would have slipped me some kind of hallucinogenic drug as a practical joke.
When I opened my eyes, a vomit bag fashioned into a puppet was staring at me. He made it while I was in the bathroom, even took the time to draw large, goofy eyes.
“Why don’t you like me, little bird?” he chirped, moving the mouth.
I laughed unexpectedly, and a heavyset man in front of us glared through the seats. He had a pudgy nose, a mole on his cheek, and intolerance in his gaze. Logan looked at him sideways before giving me his attention.
“I can help take your mind off of it.”
“Give me
that
.” I snatched the bag and held it on my lap, staring at its cartoon eyes. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to inflict your humor on?”
A broad smile stretched across his face. “Is that your way of asking me about my
situation
?”
I sighed.
“No, I don’t have a female.” He stared vacantly at the overhead compartment.
“Maybe if you had a respectable job and didn’t kidnap people, a girl might actually take a shine to you.”
“I’m not for lack of options.”
I rolled my head to the right and stared up at his profile. His lower jaw slightly opened as he periodically tasted the air around him. Logan listened to conversations on two different levels.
“Well good for you.”
He smiled with his eyes, still looking ahead. “Jealous?”
“Spare me.”
A flight attended breezed by with a pillow and offered it to an older woman.
“I choose not to mate with them.”
I mouthed the word
mate
. Did he mean sex?
Surely not
. It must be their word for wife, or girlfriend, because there was no way in hell Logan was a celibate man.
He chuckled softly. “I use that term loosely. We date around.”
“Well you’re not dating me.”
“Did I miss the part where I hit on you, or is that your way of asking me to?”
Long legs weren’t meant for small seats, so he stretched one out in the aisle.
“You nauseate me.”
Impatient fingers tapped on the armrest. “I never date females with your dark hair and height.”
“What’s wrong with my height?”
“Have you ever laid eyes on a female Chitah? They’re the stuff legends are made of.”
The man was trying to rile me up.
“Are you saying you choose not to mate them or…
mate
them?” I made invisible quotation marks with my fingers.
“Still stuck on that, are we? All Chitah have a kindred spirit, but a few choose to settle with a suitable mate. I have never chased after a woman, for they are too busy chasing after me.”
“Player.”
“We all play the field, my dear.”
“What happens if you settle, and along comes your soul mate?”
“I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy,” he said. “If a Chitah settles, it will be for love. It’s not a decision we take lightly, knowing our kindred could appear at any time. We can have young, but most of us wait.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Mr. Cross.”
He gave me an enigmatic stare through the corner of his eyes and rubbed at his jaw.
“Are you really that interested?” He folded his fingers. “We may spend a lifetime searching and never find our Chitah kindred. A male knows her on sight. His desire for her becomes an unquenchable thirst, an undeniable need; he will want her just as sure as he draws breath and will lay down his life for her.” Logan sighed. “She does not feel the same pull, so the male must prove himself worthy to her. Nothing comes easy in life. He will always want his kindred, whether she accepts him or not.”
This didn’t answer my question, and I had a feeling he was avoiding it by giving me details.
Logan absently pulled a lock of hair free from the ponytail. “Every three years, we hold an event called the Gathering. Chitah from all territories come together in search of their other half. The odds are favorable, I’ve seen it happen.”
“All those women, and you haven’t found a match? Sounds like you’re not getting lucky.”
He thinned out his expression. “You choose to see what you want to see, but I
choose
not to take any of the women who throw themselves at me.”
“Wow, that’s confidence,” I laughed. “Be sure to give me a heads up the next time women are throwing themselves at you, I wouldn’t want to get knocked unconscious in the melee.”
“To admit it is not ego.” He shifted closer and spoke in a private voice. “You may not admit it, but you can’t deny that men chase you.”
“Chase all they want, I’m too fast.”
Logan arched a brow.
“I smell their desire. Adam is thick with it. Perhaps you are fast, but you will eventually tire of running.”
“You make it sound like they all want me.”
“All males lust for the female; it’s primal. It doesn’t mean they want to marry you; some just want to bed you.”
“Justus isn’t like that.”
“Yes, he’s an interesting fellow. He’s protective of you and I respect that.”
“And it proves that I can have a man in my life without having a relationship with him.”
“You share a relationship with everyone in your life, only on different levels.”
“Why do you play hide-and-seek with your heart? Haven’t you ever been loved?”
The paper bag slipped from my fingers and dropped between the seats.
Logan took a deep breath, squinting as if something stung his eyes. Part of me hated him for that. It was no better than someone reading my mind.
“That was not love, Silver. It doesn’t count.”
I listened to the hum of the engine and pretended I was a million miles away. The real turbulence was going on inside, where my emotions snapped like the contents of a soda bottle that had been shaken, not stirred.
“Don’t speak to me about love; you don’t know anything about my life. For the record—I don’t care about love, because love never cared about me.”
I tried to sound like none of it mattered, but it came out angry and hurt. I blinked and felt the sting of tears. Going home was resurfacing old feelings I had buried long ago. I sprang up from my seat, stumbling over his legs as I ran up the aisle with a storm of black hair whipping behind me.
I slammed the bathroom door and stared at the metal sink.
“
Don’t you even think about crying
,” I spat.
It felt like the Atlantic fucking Ocean was crashing over me in relentless waves. I glared at myself in the mirror. The wide collar of my green shirt revealed a splotchy red chest, which matched my face. Strands of hair stuck to my tear-stained cheeks. I was a mess, and no one was going to see me have a meltdown, especially not Logan.
I hated him—hated that he knew what buttons to push. I was too strong to be this weakened by a four-letter word like love. Turning the faucet, I splashed cold water on my face.
Knuckles lightly rapped against the door.
“Occupied.”
Drops of water clung to the tip of my nose, and I wondered why it was so hard to let go of my past. My human life clung to me like tiny invisible cobwebs.
“If you don’t open this door, I’m going to break it in and get us arrested by the air marshal,” he promised. “Try me, because I will.”
I reached with one hand and released the latch as I leaned on the sink basin. Logan squeezed inside the tight space and shut the door.
I didn’t lift my eyes to meet his gaze as I stared at the drain.
Without a word, he wrapped his strong arms around my stomach and waist, lying flush against my back. Logan held me like it mattered, and I looked at him through the mirror as he eased his head into the crook of my neck.
“What are you doing?” I protested.
Before my ears registered the sound—my body felt it. A soothing vibration deep within his chest rolled through me, calming me on a level I couldn’t comprehend. It was as if the problems of the world melted away in his arms and all I felt was safety, compassion, and warmth. A man I barely knew gave me comfort, asking for nothing in return.
I closed my eyes, lowered my head, and accepted his offer.