| |
Tia
“Nine days.”
The sun still wasn’t up but I’d stopped trying to sleep after I’d woken the third time, just after three o’clock.
Valkyrie flicked an ear in the direction of my voice, but she didn’t stir from her position at the foot of the bed.
I sat in the middle of the wide expanse, my notebooks open around me, charcoal pencils, pastels and pens making a mess.
Black from the charcoals smudged my pajama pants and the pristine white sheets. The sight of it made me smile. When he came back, he’d see signs of me everywhere.
Even if I wouldn’t be here.
The knowledge of that filled my chest with a hard, leaden weight.
Downstairs, I could hear Leo moving around, preparing breakfast for now, but later, he’d be herding me out the door.
I knew that because he’d been advising me of that very fact.
Spectre has let me know his plan is going as expected.
Spectre thinks he’ll have everything wrapped up within another seventy-two hours.
If everything goes according to plan, you’ll be able to call your brother within thirty-six hours and he can make arrangements to pick you up soon. We’ll be flying out within a day.
Not that he told me which city we’d be flying out from.
I knew the tags on the car Leo had driven up here were from Idaho, but I also knew the vehicle was a rental so it could be from a city twenty miles away or from New York City. I had no idea.
What I did know was that my time here in this house, where I’d stayed with Casper, was coming to an end.
My hand moved across the heavyweight paper with near-frenzied energy, seeking to capture a moment that had been caught in my mind for days.
You decide what happens.
We’d been back at the rest area and the only other vehicle in sight had been the truck parked yards ahead.
If I’d been quiet, the other person never would have known there was a problem.
But I hadn’t been quiet.
Casper had taken control of the moment, because that was what he did.
My fingers shook as they worked to freeze that moment, to capture it on paper, so somebody else could see what I’d seen.
You decide.
It had been too dark to see the green of his eyes, but that hot, brilliant glitter had been too intense, too compelling and I couldn’t look away.
I rubbed my pinkie against the line of his cheekbone, smudging it slightly, then applying more pressure. Almost, but not quite. Still, I’d never capture the haunting beauty of his face.
And his voice, his eyes, in that moment as he’d looked at me.
He’s ten feet away. You decide what happens, Tia.
He’d kissed me and, I swear, I could feel the tingling of my lips even now. Pressing them together, I shifted my attention to that part of the sketch—his mouth. Too perfect, really. At least for a portrait. There should be some flaw. Something to detract from the beauty of him.
But how did I take away from the sheer perfection of what he was?
Memory assailed me and I dropped the charcoal I held. His tongue, breaching my lips, tasting me while his hand clamped on my thigh.
It had been the first kiss I’d ever enjoyed. In my entire life, the first kiss that hadn’t been faked or forced. And I’d wanted more. I still did.
Where was he?
Somebody knocked.
I ignored him.
“Tia?”
Long moments passed before he spoke again and I looked up with a snarl. “Go away.”
Leo met my eyes solemnly. “I’ve heard from Spectre.”
Surging up off the bed, I hurled the sketchpad at him. It made it halfway before falling to the floor. Valkyrie, already on edge, alerted to my mood and sprang between us, her lips peeling back from her teeth as she snarled.
“That’s not his name!” I shouted.
Leo drew his head back. “No. It’s not.”
“Then don’t...” A sob hit then, square in the middle of my chest. If he died, would anybody ever know him to be anything more than a ghost?
Yes, I told myself stubbornly. I would. Clearing my throat, I smoothed my shirt down, then my hair, and I finally met Leo’s gaze.
“I don’t want to hear whatever soothing bullshit you have, whatever lies you’ve concocted. His name is not Spectre. That name was manufactured, given to the person who was crafted, because a monster tried to kill the boy who really existed inside that man’s body before he had a chance even to live. He’s his own person, even if he’s too scarred to see that.” Looking him up, then down, I sneered. “He has reasons why he can’t see beyond those scars, but you should be able to do it. Be man enough to try.”
Leo rocked back on his feet, then to my shock, dipped his head.
“You’re quite right.” He looked around, taking in the bedroom’s devastation, eyes lingering on the myriad sketches that littered the room. “We should talk, Ms. Jenkins.”