Rage and Ruin (The Harbinger 2)

The offer stole my breath a little, and how lame was that? I should yawn loudly and obnoxiously, but he’d just lost someone and I would do anything to make that better for him.

“Sure.” The dagger all but burned my palm. “Uh, I’ll be right back.”

Not waiting for a response, I darted into the bedroom, my bare feet sliding over the cool cement floors. I placed the dagger on the nightstand and then sprinted back into the living room. I skidded to a stop when I didn’t see Zayne at the couch. Glancing at the kitchen, I didn’t see him there, either. Or Peanut. Or a random spirit.

Was I even awake, or was this some kind of bizarre dream?

“Zayne?”

“I’m here” came the immediate response.

I turned to the couch with a frown and inched around the side, and he was there, lying on his side with his cheek resting on the curl of his arm. There was a vacant pillow beside his elbow.

He patted the space beside him.

I glanced from him to the space and then back to him again, my throat suddenly making me wish I had gotten a drink. My skin felt heavy, and I really needed to get it together. He was inviting me to lie with him and not to lie with him.

“There’s enough room,” he said. “I promise.”

There was enough room on the couch to fit a T. rex, but I still stood there, hands opening and closing at my sides. I didn’t know why I was being so weird. This wouldn’t be the first time we’d lain side by side while we’d been unable to sleep. It had been a brief habit until...until the night we’d done more than talking and sleeping.

“Trin?” Zayne started to rise. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I plopped down on the couch beside him, landing on my back with the gracefulness of a cow falling over.

“Wow,” he murmured.

“What?” I clasped my hands together, over my stomach. There were a few inches between us, but I could still feel the warmth of his body.

“Just surprised you didn’t break your back with that move.”

“Shut up,” I muttered.

Zayne chuckled.

I wiggled my toes and then my butt, sinking an inch into the cushion. “You know...this couch is more comfortable than I thought.”

“It’s not bad.”

But still not as comfortable as his bed. “I feel terrible about taking over your apartment—your bathroom.” I paused. “Your kitchen. Your bed.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

My brows knitted as I turned my head toward him. I couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or not. “Kind of hard not to. I could sleep out here and—”

“That would go against every code I have. Not going to happen,” he replied. “What woke you up?”

The spirit I’d seen formed in my thoughts. Shivering, I wondered if or when he would come back and what he had wanted. Sometimes they never returned.

“Cold?” Zayne reached down and snatched the blanket pooled at his waist. With a flick of his hand, the soft material floated out and then fell over my legs.

“Thanks,” I murmured. “I just woke up. Not sure why. I really am sorry for waking you.”

“It’s okay.” He paused. “I thought I heard you talking to someone when I woke up.”

“You must’ve been hearing things.”

“Uh-huh.”

My lips twitched. “It was Peanut.” That wasn’t exactly a lie.

Zayne shifted beside me. “Is he still here?”

When I opened my eyes, I could see enough to know he was looking around. My smile grew. “He’s not here right now.”

“Huh.” His head tilted toward mine. When he spoke, I felt his breath on my forehead. “Where does he go...when he’s not here?”

“That’s a good question. I hope he’s not bothering that girl who lives somewhere in this building. Which reminds me, I really need to check on that.” I sighed, mentally re-adding that to my list of things I needed to do yesterday. “Any time I ask him where he goes, he gives me a ridiculous answer. Like once he said he went to the moon.”

“Maybe he did. Maybe ghosts can travel to the moon.”

I laughed as I shifted my gaze back to the ceiling. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

“Would be kind of cool, though.”

“Yeah, it would.” My eyes drifted shut. “I really did try to wait up for you, because of...of Greene, and also because I wanted to know if you found any more zombies.”

Zayne was quiet for a moment. “I checked on you when I got back. You were out cold. Didn’t even hear me take a shower,” he said. “We didn’t find more zombies. After cleanup, I went to the Eastern Market platform. Greene had already been taken down. A cop found him. He was still there.”

“Did you talk to him?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t see anything.” Zayne curled his knees just the slightest. “There were no signs of a struggle or traces of blood, and the cop was in the area the whole time. He would’ve heard a fight. Greene was killed elsewhere and then brought there for a reason.”

I processed that. “I’ve been thinking about that. Greene was...displayed like the other Wardens and demons have been—left to be found. I don’t think it takes a leap of logic to say that the Harbinger is behind all of it.”

“Agreed.”

“Were the bodies of the other Wardens ever found where others had been minutes before but hadn’t seen anything?”

Zayne was quiet for a moment. “Not that I know of. Most of them were found in extremely busy public places. That platform is deserted at that time of night.”

“So, this was a message.” I paused. “To us. The Harbinger killed Greene and brought him to a place we’d just been, and the demon has to be working with it.”

“I know where you’re going with this thought. That it’s possible that either the demon or the Harbinger know who we are—know what you are.”

I rolled onto my side, facing him. Hair fell across my face, but I left it alone, keeping my arms folded between us. “Do you think that?”

“I think it’s possible.”

“That means the Harbinger has the upper hand,” I whispered. “A very big upper hand.”

“It’s an upper hand, but that just means we need to be more aware,” he said, and I felt him move. “Hold still. My hand is going to come close to your face.”

A heartbeat later, I felt his fingertips brush my cheek. The touch didn’t startle me. He caught the strands of hair and brushed them back, tucking them behind my ear. His fingers lingered, his thumb grazing the line of my cheekbone. After a second, he dropped his hand.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

“No problem.”

“I’m only a little jealous of Warden eyesight,” I added. “Then again, if I had fully functioning eyeballs, I’d still be jealous.”

“Yeah, being able to see in the dark does have its benefits,” he said.

Silence fell between us as we lay there, face-to-face. I don’t know why my next thought came to mind, but it did, and for some reason, asking things in the middle of the night wasn’t so hard. “I have a random question.”

“You? Never...”

I smiled. “How often do you do the, uh, deep-sleep thing? You know, the stone-sleeping thing. Misha used—” My chest squeezed as I inhaled sharply. “He used to nap a lot in that form, but I haven’t seen you do it yet.”

“I do it when I need to,” he answered. “Used to grab a couple of hours here and there. Napping like...yeah, like him, if I was feeling worn down or had been injured, but ever since the whole bonding thing, I haven’t had to do it.”

“Oh. That’s kind of interesting.”

“It’s a lot interesting, and I wish I knew why, but unless your father is going to reappear with a Protector handbook, I guess I won’t know.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t hold your breath for that.”

“Does it ever...” He exhaled. “The way it is with your father—does it bother you?”

“No one’s ever asked me that,” I said as the realization hit. “Wow. I don’t even know how to answer that.”

“Try,” he said softly.

“I... I don’t know. I don’t even think of him as my father. Thierry and Matthew helped raised me. They’re my dads. But does it irritate me that he hasn’t been around? Yeah. And it pisses me off that he knew Misha was the wrong choice and did nothing. Didn’t even seem to freaking care. Like he has no emotions or—” I cut myself off as the anger surfaced. “It doesn’t matter.”

Zayne tapped my arm. “I think it does.”

“No, it doesn’t. Anyway, it’s probably a good thing you haven’t needed to do the deep-sleep thing. I have an overwhelming urge to annoy the living crap out of any Warden when they’re in that form.”

“Good to know, but your father—”

“I really don’t want to talk about him. Besides, I have another question.”

“I wish you could see my surprised face.”

I grinned at that. “Why does your apartment look like no one lives here?”

“What?” He laughed.

“You know what I mean.” Unclasping my hands, I lifted one. “There’s nothing here. No photos or anything personal. No clutter—”

“How is not having clutter a bad thing?”

“It’s not, but it’s like...”

“It’s like what?” Zayne shifted again, and I felt his fingers brush my bare arm.

It was hard to ignore the jolt of awareness that followed his touch. “It’s like you don’t really live here. More like you’re...staying here.”

Zayne didn’t respond. Not for a long time. I thought that maybe he’d fallen asleep, but then he said, “It’s just a place to rest my head, Trin.”