Kate Evangelista - Til Death

He held her closer, unable to let go.

Selena

No Matter How Heavy, Feelings Still Float

The adrenaline from all the action still had my blood ringing in my ears, my heart racing. I couldn’t stop looking at the ooze stains on the ground. Questions flew through my brain too fast to focus on one, but I pushed them aside for now. I had to concentrate.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around being in Dillan’s arms. The crisp, clean scent of soap filled my senses. Considering the rotting corpse smell still in the air, inhaling eau du Dillan was a welcome change. My face fit in the hollow of his neck and collarbone. It was an all access pass to the yummy. I couldn’t help myself. I closed my eyes and breathed in.

When my brain decided to work properly again, the warmth spreading through me turned icy. Dillan Sloan. Me. Hugging? No vision could have predicted it. Murder, maybe. But hugging? I must have hit my head and woken up in an alternate universe, one where Dillan was actually a nice guy.

I felt his erratic heartbeat against my chest as he crushed me to him. The urge to push away became overwhelming, no matter how good being in his arms felt. I needed to get away. Not far. Just enough to make sense of what just happened.

I tried taking a step back. “Dillan—”

“No,” he said, his voice muffled by my hair.

Maybe I misheard him. “Huh?”

His arms tightened around me. I sighed at his body heat against mine. It felt like a blanket on a rainy day—comforting and safe. Nothing like the arrogant Dillan I knew.

“No.” A hint of pleading crept into his tone. “Not yet. Don’t move yet.”

Some part of me wished I could erase what I’d just heard. But another part of me—the crazy part—was really happy for some reason. His stance tense and muscles rigid.

“It’s okay.” I pressed my cheek into the hollow I fit into. “Everything’s okay now.”

How’d I go from ready to die to comforting the guy who helped save everyone else? Shouldn’t I be the one freaking out here? I knew, when those things came at me, I would do everything possible to keep them from the house. A small voice inside my head I’d never heard before told me to fight. And fight I did. Then I grabbed Dillan’s sword and actually cut one of them. I actually got to hold a freakin’ badass sword, and it felt oh so right. In what universe did that happen? Not in mine. And yet…

I pushed aside my confusion. Maybe I was in shock. It seemed I wasn’t dying today, so I had time to figure stuff out. Dillan buried his face into my hair and inhaled. His arms loosened their death grip, and his tense muscles eased. He let go of me in stages. First, he lifted his head. Then he took a small step back until his hands on my shoulders were our only physical connection. From the way he looked at me, his eyes seemed to memorize each line, plane, and angle of my face. The moonlight made his blue eyes shine. I shivered. I had no idea what to make of his intensity.

“What?” His brow wrinkled.

“Just…” I wanted to ask him why he looked at me that way, but it wasn’t a safe topic. “Those things…I can’t wrap my head around what happened.” And then some.

He let go of my shoulders, leaving me cold. “You’re in shock. It’s not every day you’re defending yourself against puppets. It’s a rush.”

The hardening of his face irritated me. “You sound like you know more than you’re telling me.”

His gaze fell. “I don’t get what they’re doing here.”

“Oh, yeah? What do you think they were after?”

Dillan performed a dramatic shrug. “I honestly don’t know.”

My stomach curdled. “Do you think they wanted to eat us?”

The corners of his lips twitched. “No, that’s the undead. Puppets don’t eat anything because they’re already D-E-A-D. Weren’t you listening?”

“Of course I was!”

“There’s a difference between hearing and understanding .”

I wanted to stomp my foot in frustration. Only my iffy balance and throbbing knee stopped the impulse. This Dillan split personality thing gave me a headache. One second he wouldn’t let me go, like his life depended on me being there for him, and now he went back to being Mr. Rock Star National Geographic. Arguing with him…when was I going to learn it was useless? I was a masochist, because I kept coming back for more. To prove I’d been listening…

“What’s the difference—” I cut myself off. Asking meant I believed in what he’d said, or what had happened.

His gaze returned to the black slime. “Puppets are usually under the control of someone called a Maestro.”

“A what?”

“A dark channeler,” he said like I should know this stuff. “The technical term is Conjurer.”

Shock over how normal he sounded hit me. “You actually believe what you’re saying, don’t you?”

“After being attacked, I’d think you’d be the believer.”

“We’re not talking about denial here. Even I know what I saw. It’s just my brain’s having a hard time accepting it.” A lie. A part of my brain—a deep part I never thought I had—understood. That voice that told me to fight. Dillan asked me what I was. At first I thought he might know about my visions. Now I wasn’t too sure. “Your cuff turns into a sword. If that isn’t something out of Lord of the Rings , I don’t know what is.”

“Doubt Tolkien had swords like mine in his books. Come on. We should head back. They’re probably worried by now.”

He didn’t have to clarify who “they” were. The thought of Kyle, Riona, or Garret wondering where I’d disappeared to, and the possibility of them looking for me, worried me.

“You don’t think there are more of those things out here, do you?” My stomach tumbled. I didn’t want Valley View to turn into a bad version of The Walking Dead . “We have to warn everyone.”

“No!” He whirled back so fast I almost fell.

“What do you mean no ?”

“I mean,” his hands clenched into tight fists, “there aren’t any more. They’d have attacked by now. Plus, they won’t believe you.”

My brow puckered. He had a point, but still, I trusted Kyle. “They’ll believe me. All I have to do is say I—”

The sudden interest in his expression stopped me from completing the sentence. Shit! I almost told him I had visions. This guy I hardly knew and who lived to torture me almost found out about the freak in me. Over my dead…my eyes returned to the black goo. I swallowed. Too soon.

“Finish what you were about to say.” He stepped closer, eyes never leaving mine, watching my every move.

“You’re probably right,” I said. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, the fear of how stupid I’d been, thinking I could fight the puppets, was slowly sinking in. “Even I don’t believe me. But we should at least warn them about something .”

The predatory look in his eyes disappeared when he mulled over my words. “We can say feral dogs chased you. That’s why you hurt your knee. I was taking a walk, saw you, and helped scare them off.”

“I’m pretty dense sometimes, but even I know that’s not gonna fly.”

“Any better ideas?” That obnoxious eyebrow lifted.

“Fine. We’ll go with that.” I pointed at him. “You better not suck at lying.”

“You don’t know me well enough.”

He was right. The part of me that conveniently forgot how mean he could be actually wanted to get to know him better. This was probably the crazy part, because no sane girl should want to get to know Dillan Sloan better. It had DANGER written all over it.

“Can you walk?” He hovered close.