Alora: The Wander-Jewel (Alora 1)
Page 54
“Are you sure you’re thinking of a place?” Alora asked.
“I’m doing my best,” said Kaevin.
“I’ve got to move before I freeze.” Beth ran in place for thirty seconds, her medical supplies clattering inside her bag.
“Why don’t you try taking us somewhere without my help,” Kaevin suggested. “Maybe just down to the end of the road?”
“Fine.” She spotted a place near the gate. “Come on, Beth. Hook up, and let me try again.” She imagined them standing arm-in-arm beside the gate.
She closed her eyes and felt a slight jostling.
“You did it.” Beth tugged on her arm and she opened her eyes to find they had indeed moved to the gate.
“Wow, that was fast,” said Wesley. “Can you take us back?”
Alora let out a groan. “Grandmother said it was hard to let someone else control the destination, so I guess that’s the problem. How did I manage to do it when we were at the dance?”
“I have an idea,” said Beth. “Don’t laugh, but maybe if he kissed you while he was thinking of a place, you wouldn’t be distracted.”
She was glad of the darkness to hide the blood rushing to her face. “Beth!”
“No, I’ve been thinking about this. If being married helps the soulmate bond, it stands to reason swapping a little spit would work better than holding hands. And your lips aren’t made of regular skin. They’re mucous membranes. They’re thinner, so I figure your blood is closer together.”
“I think it’s worth a try.” Kaevin winked. “I wouldn’t mind, even if it didn’t work.”
“Then you both have to close your eyes,” Alora demanded. “I’ll be too embarrassed if you watch.” No one knew her first kiss ever had been in the frozen lake, and she didn’t intend to tell anyone that fact. Now she’d had two kisses, but neither one had been very romantic. They were more like desperation. It certainly wasn’t the way she’d always imagined it would be.
Beth and Wesley closed their eyes. But before they could attempt the kiss, Wesley started humming the tune to a popular radio song, Kissin’, Huggin’, Snoggin’, Muggin’. Beth and Alora giggled, while Kaevin stared with confusion.
“Shut up, Wesley,” Beth ordered, with mock severity.
Wesley promised to behave, and they deemed themselves ready to try again. With arms still interlocked, Kaevin bent his head
toward Alora, and she strained upward and sideways to meet his lips. The kiss was sweet and gentle and sent little tingles down her spine. She wanted to free her hands so she could wrap her arms around his neck. She tried to remember what she was supposed to be doing. Oh, yeah. Something about a transport. Maybe in a minute. Right now, she just wanted to enjoy this kiss.
Chapter Eight
“Uhmm... Kaevin?” asked Beth in a tremulous voice. “Are they going to kill us?”
“Huh?”
Alora opened her eyes, clamping her elbows with Kaevin and Beth against a bout of vertigo. They were in a forest camp, and two men stood close by with drawn blades. How did we get here? I didn’t even try to transport.
“Kaevin!” said a boy she recognized as the one who’d been crying out in the forest. “What are you doing here?”
“Kaevin?” a voice spoke from the ground behind Jireo.
“Father!” Kaevin slipped his arm away from Alora, rushing to kneel by his father. “You’re hurt!”
Alora stood, stunned, surveying their surroundings. Kaevin’s father looked exactly like an older, broader version of Kaevin. Even his long brown hair looked the same, but his beard was fuller and fine lines creased his handsome weathered face. His eyes crinkled when he smiled. Or was that a grimace? He was sitting on the ground with a white rag wrapped around his shoulder. It was stained red, with fresh blood.
The two men guarding them could not have looked more different from each other. One was huge—at least six feet four inches, and built like a tree trunk. His dark curly hair bounced as he paced back and forth, his eyes never leaving their group. The other was a little taller than Alora, with a slim muscular build. His longish, blond hair was fine and straight, emphasizing a thin pointed nose and sharp cheekbones. Everyone else in the camp appeared frozen in place, watching the proceedings, like some bizarre game of freeze-tag.
“I’m fine,” Kaevin’s father answered. “It’s nothing.”
“Is this why you were crying?” Kaevin asked Jireo. “Because my father was injured?”
“Arista’s been kidnapped by Vindrake’s men,” Kaevin’s father answered his question. “How did you know something had happened?”