The Return (Titan 1)

And that was a hell of a lesson to learn.

When I’d seen my neck and wrist, I hadn’t known what to think. The skin was ugly and pink, forming perfect crescent-shaped bite marks. The areas were still tender, and there was a dull ache in my head and knees. But it wasn’t the pain or the bitter taste of terror that lingered from those moments outside, but the fact I hadn’t been able to do a single thing to defend myself.

Nothing.

They were on me in seconds and I hadn’t been able to fight or anything. I doubted that I’d turn into a ninja when my abilities were unbound. And I also knew that the Titans had to be way more powerful than shades and daimons.

I was so dead.

The exhaustion got to me, and I drifted off to sleep…and I dreamt. A warm, soft touch slipped over my cheek, tucking hair back behind my ear, careful to not touch the tender skin along the side of my neck. I was dreaming a phantom touch. I had to be, because such a gentle, careful touch didn’t make sense in real life. My body unconsciously sought the caress. I leaned into it as I thought I heard my name called. The touch moved across my lower lip, stopping short of the raw spot at the corner of my lip. I liked that—a lot. Warmth traveled though me, stirring up a pleasant haze. This was a sweet dream. I could stay here forever.

The voice came again, louder this time, and then I heard, “Joe. Wake up.”

Fog lifted from my thoughts as I forced my lids to come unstuck and open, and when they did, honey-colored eyes met mine. Oh crap, I wasn’t dreaming.

And his hand was still curved around my chin, his thumb resting just below my lower lip. My breath hitched as I stared at him. Surprise flitted through me and my sluggish mind couldn’t catch up.

“You’re awake now?” he asked, tracing my lower lip with his thumb, creating a stir of hyperactive butterflies in the pit of my belly. “I can drive up and down the street again if you want to continue to nap.”

“Huh?”

A small grin appeared and those butterflies decided to invade my chest in an army of flurries. “We got to your house, but you were still sleeping, so I drove back through town,” he said, and my eyes widened. We were in Osborn? I’d slept the entire way? “We’re about a mile out now. I figured you’d want some time to get yourself together.”

That was incredibly considerate, surprisingly so, and actually kind of sweet. My lips curved into a smile. “No, I’m awake.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” I swallowed hard. “Do I look…like I’ve just gone toe-to-toe with Jaws? I don’t want my mom or my grandparents to worry.”

He looked me over. “No. Keep your hair down. It covers the tag and the sweater takes care of the rest. Your lip…it’s not that noticeable.” His gaze dropped to my mouth, and oh boy, those butterflies were turning into pterodactyls. It was silly. All of this was. But I could easily recall the way he’d stared at me when I’d walked out of the bathroom wearing his shirt, the things he’d said, and yeah, how I’d fallen asleep with him holding my hand… all the stuff before I’d almost gotten myself killed.

“You were making noises again,” he said. “Little murmurings.”

Oh my God, seriously? “I so do not like you.”

That didn’t even sound believable to me, and he grinned. “You,” he said, tapping the tip of my nose, “are a terrible liar.”

I blinked.

He slid back, shifting the car out of park and into drive. Pulling off the shoulder, he coasted back onto the road. I stared at him another moment, realizing his hair was down again, the soft-looking ends brushing his broad shoulders, softening the cut lines of his face.

God, he really was something to look at it, and I needed to focus on what was important. I was minutes from seeing my mom, from really seeing her after knowing the truth, and I needed to get my head together.

A bundle of nerves formed in my belly as we drove down the familiar country road. Sunlight filtered through the heavy branches, casting shadows across the hood of the Porsche and the windshield. What was I going to say to Mom? What could I say?

“Nervous?” Seth asked.

I glanced at him. “How can you tell?”

“You’re bouncing around in the seat like there are springs under your ass.”

Oh. Well then. I made an effort to sit still. “I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t even know if she’ll understand.”

His long fingers closed around the steering wheel as he squinted. A moment passed. “Do you need to say anything?”

At first that didn’t make sense, and then I got what he was saying. Turning my gaze to the side window as the SUV slowed, I knew I didn’t have to go into detail with her. I could just tell her that I knew, or I could just hug her and let her know that way that I understood.

“You’re a smart girl,” he said, turning down the narrow road that led to the house. I think I stopped breathing as I clenched the seatbelt. “You’ll roll with it and figure it out.”

My heart was pounding like a steel drum as the house came into view. The two-story home was well over a hundred years old and had to have been a beauty back in its glory days. Not that it was decrepit or anything, but the white paint was peeling off the exterior wooden slabs and the roof needed to be replaced, especially over the porch. But for me, it was home—beautiful in a sad, aging kind of way.

Aging? It struck me then as gravel crunched under the tires of the Porsche. Would I stop aging once my super-special powers were unleashed upon an unsuspecting world? I looked at Seth. “Do demigods age?”

His brows knit as he stopped the SUV near my granddaddy’s old Ford pickup truck. “Wow. Random. But no, they don’t. Back in the day, there was always some trial they went through, and then they were at full demigod status. Some are…they are made and they stop aging at that point.”

Whoa. I slumped back against the seat, staring at the swing on the porch that probably couldn’t hold my weight anymore. I would stop aging. Holy crap. I could be stuck between twenty and twenty-one forever. Like forever. “Do you age?”

There was a pause. “Yes, I age, but that’s not really going to be a problem.”

I looked at him sharply, not liking the way he said that. “Why?”

Seth hit the engine button, turning it off. His jaw was set as he tugged a leather band off his wrist and pulled his hair back into a short ponytail. “That is not something you need to be worried about right now, Joe. You’ve got to get inside. I hate to say this, but we don’t have a lot of time. We need to get back on the road, because we’re really pushing it stopping here. I need to get you to South Dakota.”