Kate Evangelista - Til Death

At the school parking lot half an hour later, I spotted Kyle locking his Prius as I slid out of Dillan’s car. I had held off on texting him last night. What we had to talk about couldn’t be done over the phone.

“Kyle,” I called out to him.

He walked away without even looking my way.

I frowned. Okay, if he wanted to act all childish about this whole thing, then two could play that game. To think, I’d just made up my mind about telling him everything. But, even after convincing myself I didn’t care, it still hurt. No matter how angry Kyle and I ever got with each other, we never avoided each other. First time for everything, I guess.

“Maybe he didn’t hear you,” Dillan said when he reached my side.

“From ten feet away?” I let him take my hand. I didn’t mind the shocks anymore. They didn’t hurt at all. Holding hands. Huh. Another unexpected action from him, and from the looks of everyone in the parking lot, I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Did holding hands just tell the world we were going out? I mentally shook my head and focused on my best friend’s retreating back. I sighed and said, “I doubt that.”

When Dillan and I entered American History, Kyle had already taken his usual seat, and was busily reading from the textbook.

“Did you hear me when I called your name in the parking lot?” I asked as I sat down beside him, deciding to give him another chance. I owed our friendship that much.

His eyebrows rose. “I didn’t, honest.”

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming at him. He did hear me because he never said “honest” at the end of any sentence.

“I have a busy week ahead of me. I won’t be able to join you for lunch,” he continued.

“You never have a busy week,” I countered. “Not really anyway.”

“Well, this time I do. I’m helping out with the yearbook committee. I have an article to submit for the paper. Ashley Emerson asked me to tutor her.”

In my head, his steady stream of excuses became blah, blah, blah . No use. I leaned back on my seat as Mr. Sloan entered the classroom.

At lunch, Dillan and I expected to meet Penny at our usual table when I spotted her sitting with Tina and Constance. When did that happen? Penny didn’t always stay long in the cafeteria, but when she did, she always hung out with Kyle and me. No exceptions. Now she laughed with Tina and Constance. I whipped out my phone and quickly tapped a message.

Me:What’s up?

I waited. Penny fished out her phone, glanced at the message, then returned her phone into her pocket. What the hell was the about? I stifled the urge to walk over there. I was too pissed. Making a scene wouldn’t help things between us.

“You okay?” Dillan asked.

“I don’t know yet,” I grumbled.

This happened every day for the rest of the week. Kyle had things to do, Penny hung out with other people. Dillan stayed with me the whole time, but I missed my friends. Although, I couldn’t ignore the steely gazes Bowen shot our way at the cafeteria.

By Friday, I was officially lonely. The only balm to my gloom was when Gramps managed to convince Dillan to bring the GT around for a tune up and an oil change. Mr. Sloan didn’t have enough equipment for him to maintain the GT at their townhouse. To be honest, when Gramps offered the use of the garage, I suspected he only wanted to have the car over.

They had the GT on four jack stands when Gramps got called away on an emergency at one of the ranches. “Tractors,” he muttered to himself as he grabbed his spare tool kit. He gave the GT one last loving glance and left without even a good-bye to the both of us. Smitten. Totally smitten. Poor Grams.

Meanwhile, I didn’t think Dillan could get any hotter. Seeing him in a white tank was just all kinds of illegal. I literally stopped and stared when he stripped off his jacket and sweater to work on his equally handsome car. Just an oil change, but dang!

I sat on a paint can while he slid under the Mustang. I couldn’t believe I made out with that just a few days ago. The way I saw it, I was both blessed and cursed. I heaved a long sigh. From where I sat beside the tool box, I had the best view of his jeans and scuffed boots.

“Pass me the socket wrench, will you,” he said from under the car and reached out his right hand.

I handed him the wrench. “Dillan?”

A series of clicks followed him taking the wrench. “Mmm?”

“Are there other Illumenari like you?”

“Knew this was coming,” he grunted.

So he was expecting it, which might mean actual answers. Or more lies.

I shifted the paint can and continued, “Well, sorry I couldn’t get around to asking you sooner. If you haven’t noticed, I’m not having the best week. Kyle’s been avoiding me. Penny’s hanging out with Tina Conners—”

“Tina?” He scooted out from under the car and spread newspaper in the place he’d been.

“The girl she and Constance sat with in the amphitheater. Worse? They’re not answering any of my messages.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?” I looked up to find him staring at me.

“Let them bring you down. You’re better than this.”

Twisting to my left, I grabbed a bucket and shoved it into his hands. Not in a million years would I give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. But he had a point. So what if they wanted to avoid me? I had no time for this drama. Then a thought hit me. Maybe—considering the threats against me—my best friends avoiding me might not be so bad. If they weren’t near me, the safer they’d be.

“Just answer my question,” I pressed, feeling a ton better.

His brows lifted. “Many.”

At first I didn’t get his answer then I connected it to the question. Duh! I scrambled for my next question. “Like how many?”

“Excuse me while I take a census.” He bent over to slide the bucket under the GT’s oil pan. The move gave me an unobstructed view of his perfectly shaped…I shook my head to clear it. Holy shit, staying focused was harder than I thought.

“Very funny.” I looked anywhere but at him. “Come on, I’m serious.”

After removing the oil plug, he sank to his haunches and placed his hands on my knees. “I don’t know the exact number. But, trust me when I say, enough of us are out there because the world hasn’t gone to shit yet.”

My heart fluttered. From his answer or his hands on my knees, I couldn’t tell. “So, there are just the Arbiters?”

He turned thoughtful. “There’s a hierarchy.”

“Fancy.”

“Now who’s mocking?”

“Can’t help it.” Like metal attracted to a magnet, I touched my forehead to his and closed my eyes. I breathed in a mix of motor oil and his clean smell before pulling back. Having him close tempted me.

“I want to know more,” I said after opening my eyes.

A grin filled with mischief played on his lips. “But then, I’d have to kill you.”

“How unoriginal.” I pushed on his shoulder, which should have been enough to topple anyone backward. It was a testament to his balance that he stayed seated. “So, this hierarchy…”

“There are four classes in the Illumenari. The Arbiters, the Guardians, the Legacy, and the Council.” He switched the socket with an oil filter wrench and scooted under the car again. “The lowest are the Arbiters. They’re sent to settle disputes between Supernaturals or investigate cases that involve maintaining the safety of humans. Think of it like gaining experience points in an RPG.”

“Like right now? You’re investigating what’s been happening to me?” My eyebrows came together. Now that he was far away, I could think. I shuddered at the thought of what else could be out there, and Dillan coming into contact with it. Genuine concern ate at my nerves like termites. I disliked the idea of anyone hurt because of me.