Storm (Elemental 1)

She glanced over at him, studying his profile. His lips were parted slightly, and the fire had turned his green eyes almost golden, sparking light from the rings in his brow.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she said.

“No, I don’t mind. I just want to explain it the right way.” He fingered one of the rocks on his own arm, the way she’d been doing with hers. She wondered if he sought a particular one.

When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “You have a favorite color, right?”

“Blue,” she said without thinking.

“Always, right?” he said. “You just like it. No one ever made you like blue.”

“Sure.” She thought about it for a moment. “A favorite color is a hard thing to screw with.”

“All right then.” He glanced over. “You ever walk through a jewelry store and find you’re really drawn to something? Like maybe you’re into platinum, where someone else likes gold, or you like emeralds, while someone else might prefer sapphires?”

Becca nodded. She was personally drawn to amethyst, but since it was one of the stones he’d strung on her wrist, she didn’t want to volunteer that.

“My mother believes everything in existence has a consciousness,” he said. “An awareness. As in, maybe it’s not what you like.” He reached out and touched her finger, which was still resting on the hematite. “Maybe it’s what favors you.”

His touch stole her voice. She watched the fire flicker across his cheeks.

A smile found his lips, and he drew back. “When I was little,” he said, “my mother had a box of stones like these. All different kinds. She’d let me play with them.”

He was playing with them now, absently lining the remaining stones up along his wrist.

“When I turned six,” he said, “she told me to pick the ones I needed, because she was putting the rest away forever. I told her I wanted them all, but she told me that would make me sick.” He laughed a little and looked away, almost sheepishly. “Like too much candy, right?”

“Sure.” She had no idea what he was talking about.

Hunter smiled and leaned close, over the arm of his chair. “Don’t patronize me.”

She blushed and fumbled for words. “So these are the ones you chose?”

“Nah.” He rolled back in the chair and held his arm up to the light. “These, I picked up at Hot Topic when I got the piercings done—” He noticed her look and grinned. “I’m screwing with you. Yeah. I picked these.” He sobered. “Or Mom likes to say they picked me.”

It should have sounded ridiculous. It didn’t.

“What do the other stones mean?”

Firelight caught his eyes and made them flash gold. “You’ll have to do more than down a few shots to find out.”

Her heart kicked against her ribs until she was sure it wanted her to jump into his lap. Wind peeled off the water to bite across her skin. She felt herself leaning, resting her weight on the arm of the chair.

He was drifting, too, and she found her eyes tracing his lips, the line of his jaw, the odd markings along his neck.

A dog jumped in between them. And barked.

She almost came out of her skin. Her foot sent the can of soda shooting across the sand. Gooseflesh sprang to life on her arms.

Casper. He barked again. Then spun in a circle.

“What?” she said. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Platz, Casper,” said Hunter. The dog just barked and backed up.

“What’s wrong?” She couldn’t tell her body to turn off the adrenaline, and she gave a nervous giggle. “Is Timmy down the well again?”

“I don’t know.” Hunter stood and put a hand on the dog’s head, but Casper just backed away and turned to face down the darkened part of the beach. Then growled.