Natalie Damschroder - Heavy Metal

“Oh, Riley.” He finally pulled her into his arms. She laid her head on his chest and hugged him hard, squeezing her eyes closed. He sighed and held her for a few long moments before she leaned back to look up at him.

“What do you want?” she asked.

One side of his mouth quirked. “I want you to be happy.”

She shook her head hard, annoyed. “No, what do you want for you? The truth.”

He sobered and moved back so they could see each other better. “Okay. Full, blunt honesty. No more searching for the words that will work. Just the right ones.”

She nodded and held her breath.

“I’ve fallen in love with someone strong and brave. Someone willing to stick her neck out for people she doesn’t really know because she thinks she can help them. She’s beautiful and has a rockin’ body, and our chemistry is through the roof—with or without energy influence.”

Riley’s hands tightened on his sleeves, the need to kiss him practically killing her. But he hadn’t said what he wanted. So she waited, standing still.

“But what I really love is how she loves me. With so much going on, she was the only one who cared more about my well being than about anyone else. I don’t know if she knew I saw it, and I never thanked her.”

“Of course you did!”

He pressed a finger to her mouth. She held still again, not wanting him to move it away, and knowing she’d derail everything if she gave in to the impulse to lick it.

“I want you.” He shrugged. “That’s what it comes down to. The reasons don’t matter, and everything around us doesn’t touch that truth. The first thought in my head when I woke up tonight was that you weren’t there, and I needed you next to me. I want you to be mine, Riley.”

She leaned forward until their bodies touched. “I am yours, Sam. I have been since the moment you set that disgusting Pepsi on the table.”

He chuckled on his way down to her mouth. Halfway there, the amusement fell away, taking everything but the intensity of their need. His hands molded her body against him, and despite his ridiculous height, they fit together perfectly. Their lips were warm when they met, their tongues gliding into each other’s mouths. It was a kiss of promise, of exploration, of hope.

Riley knew that in a few minutes they’d have to go inside and face a million decisions, a hundred challenges that would both test and strengthen their relationship. But that could wait. Right now, all she needed was right here.

Marley slipped out of the apartment after everyone had wound down and gone to bed. She’d have done it sooner—right after she left the dinner table—except she didn’t want to risk anyone trying to stop her. It was obvious no one knew what to say after she left the table, and she was glad. The responsibility for everything that had happened today—for the last three years, actually—fell completely on her.

None of them seemed to know what had happened to Sam, and she was glad. Because she knew. She’d felt it happen. Hadn’t believed it, except it had marked her as surely as the transfers had marked Sam. Tanda and Riley said there was no trace of the power left in him, but they weren’t quite right. There was a scar, but Marley suspected only she could see it. If anyone had asked her to describe it, she’d have compared it to surgery to remove something diseased or destructive, like a tumor. It marked him by its absence rather than by a lingering presence.

Null . The word echoed in her head, knocking around until it should have been meaningless. But it was just the opposite. It was the rest of her life.

Quinn and Nick went to bed first, and Marley stayed locked in the bathroom until Sam and Riley left to get a hotel room. No secret why, though they claimed it was to relieve the burden on Tanda and free up some space. John left with them, heading back to D.C. to prepare for Nick to take over as head of the Protectorate. He’d been gleeful about telling Jeannine that Quinn would accept the Society presidency in a couple of months, when the current term was up.

Marley tried to be happy for her sister and Nick, and for Sam and Riley, but she couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t feel much of anything, actually. She silently gathered the few things she’d brought with her, snuck through the still apartment, and went out to the street to catch a cab to the airport. She’d go back to her inn first. She missed Maine, longed to be home at least until she could sell it. Luckily, a developer had poked at her a couple of times a year, feeling her out. He’d probably snap it up if she said she was ready.

After that…

A few days ago, she’d obeyed Sam when he told her to stand back. Pointed the way for Nick and John, and stood in the hall crying while she listened to her sister scream and people fight, knowing she’d only be another liability if she went in there. When the Numina men and boys had streamed out of the apartment, not a single one of them had looked at her, never mind considered her a threat.

Well, she was done with that. Done with being helpless. Done with being a victim. Done with struggling to make up to everyone else for a mistake she’d already paid for. Things had changed, and somehow, she’d been given a gift. Or a curse. Probably both.

When Sam had flailed around on that floor, screaming in the depths of hell, Marley had reached to touch him, knowing she couldn’t soothe or heal any more than the others could. But the instant her hand brushed his face, everything stopped. The power doing so much damage disappeared. One second it was there, the next it was gone. And not just hers. Beth’s power, the little bit remaining, had gone with it.

Quinn said it was impossible, but Marley knew it wasn’t. She’d felt it happen.

She’d caused it.

Giving Anson power had damaged her vessel, her ability to channel energy through crystals. Maybe the damage would have been barely noticeable if Anson hadn’t later leeched her. But when he sucked all the capacity out of her, he’d created something new. He’d carved an emptiness into her that wasn’t static, as she’d always thought. It had a purpose. Or at least, she could give it one.

She’d have to research it, but she suspected she’d find no one else had ever been what she now was. A null. A black hole. She could remove power, energy, ability from someone who wasn’t supposed to have it.

Goddesses were safe, she was sure of it. She’d been around them nonstop for two years, running the educational and tracking programs. It was only once she touched Sam, struggling against the barbs of her orphaned power, that her ability had gone active. She’d saved him.

And in doing so had saved herself.

The Dew Drop Inn, featured briefly in chapter thirteen, was a real place in North Stonington, Connecticut. I took some artistic license, moving it to suit my heroine’s travel route and ignoring the fact that ownership and name had changed. My family often stopped at the Dew Drop on our trips to the beach in Misquamicut every summer, and my mother developed a friendship with Curtis Moussie. These memories are touchstones to the things that were most important in my childhood, and even before I learned that Curtis had passed away and the Dew Drop was demolished, I wanted to pay tribute to them in this book—and by extension, pay tribute to my mother.

Heavy Metal would not be the book it is without Kerri-Leigh Grady, Liz Pelletier, and especially Danielle Poiesz, who somehow drew out of me the story I was trying to tell in the way it really needed to be told. Huge thanks to Liz Pelletier for the amazing cover, and to all the behind the scenes folks along the production line, making sure we come as close to perfection as possible. Finally, thanks to Crystal, Jaime, and Dani—my Entangled publicity team—for their support and hard work in what is, for some of us, the most challenging aspect of being an author.