Chapter Thirty-Two

Selena

Nuts, Bolts, and Catapults

The next day, Dillan picked me up for school. He texted that he was worried about my safety and he would be hanging close until he found the threat against me.

The roar of the GT’s engine had Gramps jerking away from the breakfast table.

“Is that what I think it is?” He turned toward the front of the house. If he’d magically transformed into a dog that second, his ears would have been perked up and his tail would be wagging uncontrollably.

I stifled a giggle into my orange juice. “Go see for yourself.”

Gramps bolted like a kid on Christmas morning, ready to tear up wrapping paper to get to the toys inside.

“What’s that all about?” Grams raised an eyebrow at Gramps’s disappearing act.

“Dillan’s taking me to school in a GT500.” I shrugged and finished my juice. Grabbing my bag off the floor, my stomach quivering at the idea of seeing him again, I hurried after Gramps.

“Oh, Lord.” Grams followed me to the front porch.

I burst out laughing the moment I got outside. Gramps had his hands all over the car, a goofy smile on his face. Love at first sight. Dillan looked on with an expression that seemed to be a cross between pride and concern.

“You better not leave me for that car, David.” Grams called from the porch steps as I walked to Dillan’s side.

“Hey, baby, where have you been all my life?” I heard Gramps say, awe in his words. His reaction to the car was worse than what I could have imagined.

“Should I be worried?” Dillan asked me when he took my bag, then he did something I didn’t expect: he gave me a peck on the cheek.

I blushed. “I think so,” I answered after clearing my throat, memories of our epic make out session resurfaced. I suddenly had a craving for Pop Rocks. What a change a kiss made. “Gramps, we’ll be late for school.”

He didn’t seem to hear, circling the car like a tiger scenting a female in heat.

“David, I swear, if you don’t leave that car alone this instant, I’m filing for divorce,” Grams yelled from the porch.

From the longing on Gramps’s face, I had a sinking feeling he actually considered it. He slowly backed away from the car. Dillan opened the door for me and I hopped in, telling him to hurry before Gramps changed his mind about letting us go.

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.

“I’m on vacation.”

“Illumenari go on vacation?”

“We have dental and medical, too, in case you’re wondering.”

I kicked his boot. “Jerk.”

“Admit it. You like it when I get snarky.”

The name of the second class sunk in. The voice in my head—which didn’t bother me as much as it should—had said I needed to find the guardian. Could it mean the Illumenari? “Tell me about the Guardians.”

Thankfully, he moved on. “They guard. We don’t complicate the naming of things.”

“Guard what exactly?”

A grunt then a pause. The plug seemed to be giving him problems. “Whatever’s assigned to them?”

I thought about it. He said he’d protect me. “You’re an Arbiter, right?”

“Yeah.” He tsked like he’d bitten into something bitter. “Now, shut up and let me finish.”

He waited. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from talking.

Only then did he continue. “There’s the Legacy. Almost like special ops. They get sent on the most difficult cases. And lastly, the Council. They control everything.”

“Everything?”

“They assign the cases. Everyone answers to them. They’re the judge, jury, and executioners.” He slid out from under the car, went to the hood, and removed the oil filler cap.

I shuddered at the last part about the same time our American History teacher came to mind. “Is Mr. Sloan an Arbiter, too?”

“No, he’s Legacy.” He placed the cap beside the wrench and the drain plug.

A newfound awe for our history teacher blossomed in my chest. A special ops Illumenari? Could Mr. Sloan be any cooler? “You told me he’s retired. Why? He’s so young.”

A taut silence followed.

Dillan leaned against the driver’s side door and folded his arms. He focused on a point beyond where I sat. “There are many reasons for someone to retire, Selena. Sometimes people burn out. Others get really injured and they can’t function well anymore. Then there are others who lose everything, even their minds.”

“Where does Mr. Sloan fit into all that?”

“The losing their minds part.”

A pinch of pain stopped me from asking more personal questions. I knew what it meant to lose everything. I spent a whole year of my life not really in the present, so I got the “losing their mind” part, too. I moved on to a different question.

“That time you were poisoned” —I shivered— “how’d you heal yourself?”

He rubbed the charm on his cuff until his sword materialized. Dillan, ribbed shirt, sword. I nearly fainted. Oblivious to my reaction, he clutched the grip with one hand and pointed at the opaque gem.

“This stone connects the natural abilities of an Illumenari to the outside world,” he said. “Call it power, magic, chi, whatever. The point is…Illumenari can use the energy within their body to manifest anything needed by using the stone as a catalyst. That afternoon, I used it to heal.”

“That explains the blue sparks.”

“Correct. That was my energy. But at my current rank, I can only heal small wounds. If the scratch was any deeper than it was…”

Our gazes locked then. The steely blue of his eyes turned stormy. With sure movements of his wrist, his sword returned to its charm state. Then he pushed away from the GT and, in purpose-driven strides, stalked toward where I sat.

Not once did I break eye contact. The tip of my tongue darted across my bottom lip. My skin prickled at the raw strength of him barely tamed by the grace of his stride, the confidence of his stance, the arrogance in his stare. He’d hooked me. I saw it in his eyes. I understood then what made wild animals so beautiful. I never wanted to tame him.

I swallowed. Hard. The temperature in the garage rose. The smell of motor oil and metal and sweat bordered on intoxicating.

No smile. Not this time. He bent down until his hands rested on my legs. His fingers gripped my knees, but not hard enough to bruise. He distributed his weight, so I didn’t bear the brunt of it. Tortuously slow, his face inched its way closer to mine. When I shifted to meet him half way, he pulled back and waited until I moved away again. It almost physically hurt to keep still. Whoever said patience was a virtue didn’t have Dillan’s lips so close. I wanted to scream.

His dark chuckle vibrated into me, gathering just below my navel like golden honey. He let the tip of his tongue travel the edges of my mouth, sending a crash of thrilling awareness to the pads of my feet. I gasped, and he charged in. Yes. Got my Pop Rocks fix. He playfully explored the underside of my tongue, finding ticklish corners that had me giggling then moaning into his mouth.

I threaded my fingers through his hair, delighting in the softness of each strand. No gel today. Maybe because he knew he’d get all yummy, sexy, sweaty this afternoon. I couldn’t get enough of what he gave, needing more and more of the friction until I had to force myself to come up for air.

He had other ideas. Those sinful lips traveled down the column of my neck. He nibbled on my pounding pulse. It made my back arch. Pleasure and pain fused into one smooth sensation. He soothed the place he’d bitten with a small lick then traveled the length of my collarbone to the other side of my neck. I’d lost all coherent thought when he reached the delicate curve of my ear.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” he whispered.

“No.” I tried to twist away to put some space between us, but he grabbed the back of my neck and held me prisoner. He wasn’t done tormenting my ear apparently.

“Come with me tomorrow.”

“Where?” More a gasp than anything else.

“Just say yes.”

With my eyes still closed, I imagined the word YES. A quick nod came out instead.

“Close enough.”

…

I sat alone on the porch, waiting for Dillan to arrive. At breakfast, Grams and Gramps went about their day as if I didn’t wake up shrieking my lungs out again, like the night before the field trip. My throat still hurt from it.

The rumble of the GT’s engine broke through my funk as it drove up the gravel path. I launched off the top step and ran toward the driver’s side even before Dillan could get both legs out of the car. I leapt into his arms and buried my face in the hollow of his neck, breathing him in. I used the contact to keep me in the present, remind me I was still alive.

“Hey, someone seems happy to—” A pause. “Selena? You’re shaking. Fuck. What’s going on?” His hands rubbed up and down my back, pressing me closer to him.

I shook my head.

“Babe, come on,” his voice filled with concern, “you’ve got to talk to me.”

Breathing in and out one more time, I moved back and plastered a smile on my lips. “Don’t call me babe,” I teased even if the endearment was enough to push all my fears away.

He tilted his head to the side. A glimmer of doubt entered those blue eyes. “Get in.”

The sweet scent of leather had a strangely calming effect on me. “So,” I said. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Are you going to tell me why you were scared shitless?”

I flinched. “Bad dream.”

He gripped the steering wheel. “Bullshit.”

“Don’t you have bad dreams?”

“Don’t answer my question with a question.”

My stomach churned. I wanted to take the lie back. The urge to confess, to share, overwhelmed me so much that I had to choke down the truth. My throat ached with every gulp.

As if sensing I had no inclination to elaborate, Dillan exhaled. The tension in his shoulders melted. For the entire drive into town, we didn’t speak. I thought he was mad at me until he reached out and traced a line from my temple to my chin as he pulled on to W. Main Street. I let the touch happen. Something told me he needed the contact more than I did.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

I blinked at him. “Yes…yes, I know.”

“Good.” He nodded once as if that was that. I was glad he didn’t push. “Can you get out of your shift at the bookstore?”

“Where are you taking me?”

He eased the GT into a parking slot in front of Ormand’s and killed the engine. Then he squeezed the back of my neck, pulling me closer. His lips touched mine while he spoke. “Just get out of your shift.”

I zipped out of the car and into the bookstore in five seconds flat. The bell at the door announced my welcome while the rush of cold air hit me like a bulldozer. I almost stumbled out again. Jeez!

Ormand stood behind the counter, bagging a customer’s purchase. “Selena,” he greeted. “You’re early.”

“Not exactly.” I waited with impatient energy as he thanked the customer. I stared at my sneakers. “I was wondering if…”

“Yes?” His smile revealed his crooked teeth.

I fiddled with the edge of my jacket. “Can I take the afternoon off?”

His smile wavered. “Hot date?”

My blush burned to the roots of my hair. “Yes.”

A honk interrupted whatever Ormand was about to say. The goose bump-inducing feeling that came and went when I was in the store washed over me now. I backed away slowly.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” I said when I reached the door.

Dillan kissed my cheek the second I slid into my seat.

“What was that for?” I touched the spot his lips just left, instantly forgetting Ormand and the bookstore.

“I’m a sucker for blushes.” He grinned.

Heart thrumming, I buckled in. “So, spill. Where are we going?”

“My house.”