Storm and Fury (The Harbinger 1)

“Because you tried to kiss her?” I asked, thinking that not being able to kiss would suck, but there were all kinds of things you could do that didn’t involve mouth on mouth.

“We were actually able to kiss. We’d thought it was because she was able to control her abilities, but she had Roth’s familiar on her at the time, and it altered her abilities—”

“Bambi?” I asked. “Or another one?”

“Bambi.” He looked at me. “How did you know?”

“I met her tonight. She was on that witch.”

“That damn snake kind of grew on me.” A faint smile appeared and then faded. “When Layla got hurt by my clan, she was dying. The witches had a cure and Roth bartered for it. They wanted Bambi, and he gave her to them. I hear losing a familiar is like losing a part of yourself, but that’s how much he loves Layla.”

“Oh,” I murmured.

“Anyway, the last time I kissed her, Bambi wasn’t on her, and she accidentally fed on me,” he said. “Took just a small piece of my soul, but that wasn’t what ended us. She chose Roth, and the whole time she was with me, she really just wanted him. She loved me. She still loves me, but she...she just loves Roth more.”

I winced. That was the same thing Roth had said.

“Afterward, I was pissed. I felt like I’d been used and then discarded.” A muscle flexed along his jaw. “I was angry at her for a long time.”

“You seem like you’re still angry at her.”

Zayne looked over at me. “I’m not.”

“Really?”

“No. If anything, I’m angry at the situation, because I didn’t just lose a relationship with her, I lost someone who was basically my closest friend. Things changed. They changed for her. They changed for me,” he said. “And I know I’ve seemed angry with her, and I have been, but not because she broke up with me. It’s because she still tries to treat me like nothing has changed. Like she can demand to know what’s going on in my life and who I’m with. I was hanging out with a girl, and Layla got in the middle of that.”

“Stacey?”

“God, what didn’t Roth tell you?”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “He made it sound like Stacey had lost someone?”

“She did. Her boyfriend. He was also Layla’s friend.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Stacey and I are friends. We...made out a few times. Things were kind of awkward afterward, because of us both being close to Layla. I haven’t seen her a while.” He lifted a shoulder. “Anyway, Layla thinks I owe her... I don’t know what. Acceptance? I’ve already accepted that she’s with Roth. Forgiveness? It took me a while to get there, but I have gotten there. To go back to the way things were before, like none of this happened? I’m not sure if that’s ever going to be possible, and it’s kind of messed up that she expects that of me.”

“Kind of?” I repeated. “I kind of think it’s super-messed-up, to be honest. I mean, this wasn’t that long ago, right?”

“December,” he said. “Not forever ago, but not yesterday.”

“No.” I studied his profile, unsure how I felt after hearing all of this. That was seven months ago, not six, and I didn’t know how long it took to get over a broken heart. “I don’t know what to say right now.”

That was true, because knowing this helped me understand, but it didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Or the simmer of jealousy in my gut, because I wanted...what Zayne felt for Layla, for him to feel that for me.

How could Layla not have chosen Zayne?

He was loyal and kind. He was smart and funny. He was strong and protective. He was the good guy with a very wicked side, if last night was any indication.

Zayne wasn’t perfect, but damn, he was close.

“Roth should’ve kept his damn mouth shut, because how in the Hell is he supposed to know how I feel or know what I want when I don’t even know?”

I clutched my knees. “What do you mean?”

Zayne shook his head. “I thought... I thought I did. Hell. For the last seven months, I thought I would only ever really want one person. Like really want to be with her, and that was how I felt until you laid my ass out in the training room. I wanted you then. Right there, on the damn mats. You have no idea how much restraint I had to use to not...” His hand curled in his lap, his knuckles bleaching white. “I don’t even think I ever wanted her like that. It was like a damn punch to the gut.”

My lips parted.

“It shocked me. That’s why I jumped off you. I’ve never felt such a...raw reaction to someone. I...I don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to you. When I’m with you, I don’t think about her, and I sure as Hell don’t see her. I see only you. I just don’t know what that means. All I do know is that I never meant to hurt you.”

I believed him.

Tears crowded the back of my throat as I nodded. I did believe him, and somehow that made me want to let go and cry. I looked away, having no idea where that left me—left us.

No, that was a lie.

I did know.

“I like you, Trin, and I care about you. I do, and I know it means something,” he said, and when I didn’t look at him, I felt his fingers curl around my jaw, tilting my head back until I met his gaze. “And I do want you. Hell, I’m coming out of my skin from wanting you, and I feel like I’m... Like I’m drawn to you. It’s the craziest thing. Like I know where you are in the room without looking. When I told you back in the Potomac compound that I felt like I knew you, I wasn’t full of shit then. I do feel like that, and I...I can’t explain that.”

But.

There was a but lingering between us.

Zayne liked me. He cared for me. He wanted me. But he’d been burned. Badly. There was a fortress around him that didn’t just have to do with Layla, but also with his father and his own reckoning with his clan’s responsibilities. He didn’t know what he really needed.

I might not know what it was like to be in love or to love someone like he had, but I thought... I thought you knew if you really liked someone, that if there was a potential for that, even if you didn’t know a person for weeks, months or years, you just knew. And if you knew you really liked someone, you’d reach out and seize it. You’d chase after it.

And I knew that I really liked him, and I knew that even as messed up as things were right now, if he felt the same way, I’d reach out and seize it. I’d chase after it.

But I was pretty sure that, even with everything he’d said, he wasn’t going to go down that road with me. He wasn’t seizing or chasing anything. He wasn’t ready.

“It’s okay,” I said, and I forced a smile even though this didn’t feel okay.

It felt horrible.

Zayne’s fingers splayed across my cheek, and my eyes drifted shut. “Trin...”

My smile started to wobble, and I knew it was time for me to get some space. Everything had to be okay. I needed his help. He was going to need mine, and me crying wasn’t going to make things okay or any less awkward.

His thumb slid over my chin, just below my lip, causing me to suck in a shallow breath. I felt that gentle sweep all the way to the tips of my toes. “Are things really okay?”

I nodded, opening my eyes. “Yeah, I understand.”

Doubt clouded those beautiful eyes of his, but he smiled as he dipped his chin, pressing his lips to the center of my forehead. The kiss was like the one earlier in the garage, sweet and gentle, and completely devastating.

Pulling back, I slipped free and rose on unsteady legs. “I think... I’m tired. I mean, I am tired. I’m just going to head to bed.” It wasn’t even eleven o’clock yet. “Thank you for talking to me.”

He opened his mouth, but seemed at a loss for what to say. Finally, he a managed with a dry rasp, “Please don’t thank me right now.”

My chest spasmed as I nodded. I turned before I could do something...impulsive and reckless, like say screw the real, painful heartbreak that was sure to come down the road and climb into his arms, because I thought he’d let me do just that.

That he’d welcome it.

I couldn’t do that...because I was already starting to fall for him, and I couldn’t let that happen.

I had to be smarter than that.

I would be smarter than that.

Because I’d finally found someone I wanted, I yearned for, and I wasn’t going to play second fiddle to a past he was still working through.

Hurrying around the couch, I went straight for the bedroom, stopping at the opening. “Good night, Zayne.”

He remained on the couch, and as I started to close the door, he said, “Good night.”

I closed the door.

And I locked it.

32

I didn’t cry.

I wanted to, but the tears built and built and went nowhere as I lay on my back, wishing I was looking at stars.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d let myself cry. When Mom died? No. Holy crap, even then, I’d held it in. Sure, I’d felt the burn of tears in my throat and in my eyes, but I’d never let them out.

I couldn’t let them out now.

I didn’t get much sleep. Every time I did fall asleep, I jerked awake what felt like minutes later, pulling myself out of nightmares surrounding a bleeding, dying Misha or dreams where I was following Zayne but could never reach him no matter how fast I ran or how many times I called his name. That happened all night, so when I finally awoke in the early morning and could see the faint light of dawn seeping under the heavy blinds, I gave up on sleep.

I rolled onto my other side and reached for the worn book on the nightstand. Curling my fingers around the frail binding, I pulled it close to my chest and held it there as I closed my eyes.

I needed to get my life right.

That’s what I realized in those early-morning hours as I lay in Zayne’s bed, holding my mother’s book to my chest. I thought about what had happened last night between Zayne and me. I thought about what the witch had told Roth and me, and I thought about what could be happening to Misha at this very moment.