Eternal Hope (The Hope Series) (12 page)

Tess eyed Kayden warily and went the long way around the kitchen table to avoid walking too close to him. It was weird that she was unnerved by him. He gave her a broad grin, pretending he didn’t notice the detour, and winked at Farley. “Guess I better go put on some clothes.”

“Guess so.”

With that he stalked away, leaving her alone with Tess. Her friend’s eyes bugged out of her head. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“That guy creeps me out, Farls. His body looks like it went through a meat grinder.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Well, it did when he showed up here. How can you act like he’s normal? He nearly died.
All over you!
”

Farley didn’t even attempt to hide her smile. “And we’re
so
the experts on normal.
 
You’re dating an Immortal, and I’m some messed-up genetic freak, prophesied hundreds of years ago.”

“Hmm,” she grunted, “don’t forget your boyfriend’s a freak, too.”

“Yes, and my boyfriend’s definitely a freak, too,” she agreed, staring back out the window. Something wasn’t right. Daniel and Oliver’s conversation looked tense, and Daniel was pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. They were both pale and washed out.

“Oh, well,” Tess sighed. “Could be worse.”

Farley didn’t know how it could be worse, or want to know for that matter. Tess nipped her arm. Farley shot her a hurt look, rubbing at her skin. “Jeez! What the hell?”

Tess’ face transformed with a look of mischief. “Our men look busy. How do you feel about a little adventure?” She pulled something out of her back pocket, grinning like a naughty five-year-old. It took a moment for Farley to focus on what dangled from Tess’ fingers. The small black object stilled just long enough for her to read two words:
Jeep Cherokee.
             

“Grayson knows about this, right?”

Tess gunned the burgundy Cherokee down the narrow single track as it hair-pinned back and forth down the mountain. Three grimy quarters and a dime sat in small well in the console; they slid dramatically each time the four-wheel drive rounded a corner. The fact that Tess had coasted the first hundred meters away from the cabin before turning on the engine wasn’t a good sign. At least Tess hadn’t snaked Daniel’s keys. Taking the Viper would have been begging for colossal trouble.

Tess grinned impishly and made a show of putting her foot flat to the floor. The last time they’d been on this road it had been pitch black, and Farley hadn’t made out anything beyond the shadows. In daylight, the forest wasn’t half as foreboding. It kind of reminded her of the forest in Aldan’s mind that she’d walked through with Daniel, but that forest had been full of vines and moss.

Here, the trees bare trunks were their own, crinkled and textured like paper, once screwed up and then hastily pressed flat. The floor of the forest was dry tinder brown and orange, carpeted in a thick covering of pine needles from years past. The air smelled rich and vibrant in a way that made Farley’s nose tingle at her sinuses, almost making her eyes water when she pulled in a deep breath.

At the break-neck speeds Tess employed they soon ran out of dirt road and found tarmac highway waiting for them at the base of the mountain. A road sign indicated Gun Creek was four miles to the west. Tess signaled right and headed in that direction.

“So, that Kayden guy looked as if he was about to pounce on you back there in the kitchen. Anything you wanna tell me?” Tess asked off-handedly as they sped down the open stretch of road. This- her proclivity for pushing machines to the brink of their capabilities before they ex or imploded- was why Farley had never let Tess borrow her truck. Admittedly, it had blown up anyway, but that was a different story.

“He was just watching Daniel and Oliver. Nothing to tell.”

“But he made you breakfast, right?”

“No. I just ate some of his.”

“And you don’t think that’s more intimate?”

Farley sighed a heavy sigh. “No, I don’t. He was just watching Daniel. End of story.”

Tess jabbed at the stereo, mashing buttons until it eventually came to life. The speakers rattled tinnily as a radio presenter gave the weather forecast. She turned it off, disgusted. “What’s going on with them, anyway? Why are they always bickering like old women?”

Farley laughed at the imagery, her head rolling violently across the headrest as Tess charged through a corner at Mach ten. “I have no idea. Daniel said something once about having learned his lesson where trusting friends was concerned. I can only assume he was referring to Kayden. Seems to me they know each other inside out. That can only mean they were close once upon a one time.”

She didn’t mention Kayden’s strange comment when they’d been sitting out on the basketball court. His words,
He hasn’t told you, has he?
certainly sounded like part of a story that might go at least halfway to explaining their animosity toward one another. But Farley hadn’t found the right time to bring it up again with either of them. Until she got some clarification, it was pointless ruminating over conjecture.

Tess snorted in a very unladylike manner. “Sounds like intervention time.”

“Not a good idea. Daniel wouldn’t fare well with enforced emotional discussion. Or maybe it’d be us that didn’t fare well.”

“Okay, intervention equals bad idea. Maybe we could try out some sort of cage fighting therapy. They could beat the crap out of each other and everything would be rosy afterwards.”

Farley shook her head. “Fighting each other is a pretty regular occurrence by all accounts. I think it only makes things worse.”

Tess fell silent, a crazy smile twitching at the corner of her mouth as she made the Cherokee’s engine scream. The trees on either side of the highway petered out and small fields opened up, filled with nothing but wide expanses of browned, dry grass and the occasional horse in the distance. A cheery, faded sign welcomed them to Gun Creek, population 296, which was riddled with small, perfectly round puncture wounds. Bullet holes.

“Wow. Hicksville,” Tess crooned as she unwillingly slowed the vehicle. She took the right hand turning into Gun Creek, where the town opened out immediately. It looked like some warped, derelict version of the old west, except all of the stores seemed to have discovered neon signs. There was one blinking in each storefront window. Even the bookstore had one, which made it look seedy, as though it should be flashing
XXX Adult Entertainment
instead of
Boddington and Son’s Book Emporium
.

Tess pulled the Jeep into a spot outside the pharmacy, which had a sun-faded sign in the window reading,
Now open on Wednesdays!
Both Farley and Tess stared straight ahead of them for a moment. At the side of the road was an actual hitching post, and hitched to it was an actual horse. It snorted and switched its tail in their general direction, shooting them a filthy glance.

“Ha ha! This is literally a one horse town!” Tess cried, tugging the keys from the ignition. “I know your less-than-better half said there was no Starbucks here, but there
has
to be some sort of coffee house.”

“That’s what this is about? Your quest to find decent coffee?”

Tess gave Farley look that said she’d always known she was dumb, but she hadn’t suspected it was
this
dumb. “I’m going to forgive you, Farley, because I understand how complicated things have been for you recently, what with everything that’s been going on. But my priorities are, and always have been, in order, enrolment at Berkeley, excellent coffee, sexy-looking boy on my arm, swiftly followed by a mind-blowing wardrobe. And since my chances of getting into Berkeley have been temporarily waylaid, coffee is now number one on the agenda. And so…” she gestured to the single quiet street that made up Gun Creek, “here we are.”

“I take it back. You’re the freak, not me.”

But Tess wasn’t listening. She’d already bolted, scanning the length of the street in search of anything that looked vaguely café-like. For such a small town, Gun Creek had a lot of stores. Most of them were completely useless to them: a saddlery, a tannery, a hardware store, livestock and feed warehouse, and
two
gun stores- Bob’s Guns and Mick’s Guns, directly across the street from one another. No wonder there were so many bullet holes in the town’s signpost.

There were only two stores of any interest: the aforementioned Boddington and Son’s Book Emporium, and a clothes store, named simply
Kathy’s
. Business owners clearly lacked imagination around these parts, given that nearly all the storefronts bore the owner’s name and not much else. Tess blew out her cheeks in a way that implied she was on the brink of a meltdown.

“Come on, caffeine freak.” Farley grabbed hold of Tess’ hand and pulled her in the direction of the clothes store. “Maybe Kathy can fill us in on the closest place you can get your fix.”

Tess gave her a sarcastic smile but followed meekly behind her. It was a good thing, because Farley didn’t have the patience to deal with Tess in temper tantrum mode. Things usually got ugly.

The window to Kathy’s was filthy in the same way white vans get filthy and some clever moron writes,
I wish my wife was this dirty
on them. It was surprising that no one had written any witty remarks on these windows. They were practically begging for it. The mannequins inside, frozen in carefree, abandoned poses, could barely be made out through the grime encrusted panes.

A bell rang cheerfully when Farley hefted the door open. It was kind of surplus to requirement, however, because the door protested loud enough to announce their presence all by itself. People across in Bob’s Guns probably heard about it when Kathy got a customer. Inside, the store was surprisingly clean. It looked like a regular little boutique shop, although the clothes on the racks were obviously aimed at an older market and certainly not eighteen-year-old girls.

“Hello?” a voice called from out the back. There was a rustling of papers and a heavy set woman appeared wearing a bright floral shirt that looked more like a tent than an item of clothing. Farley gave her a polite smile, battling to keep a hold on Tess, who looked like she wanted to start rifling through the clearance bin. That wasn’t why they were there, and now it was clear Grayson knew nothing of them borrowing his car, it seemed prudent to get what they were after and hightail it home as quickly as possible.

“Hi, ladies!” the woman in the chintzy tent cooed. She waggled her ringed fingers at them in a weird kind of wave. “Ooh, new faces. I just love new faces. Tell me, are you staying with Lyle over at the bed and breakfast?”

Farley shook her head. “No, just passing through. We were wondering if there was anywhere around here that served
excellent
coffee.” She treated Tess to a kinked eyebrow as she said that. Tess poked her tongue out, shuffling over to the clearance bin. So much for getting what they needed and leaving. They’d be stuck there for hours if there was anything remotely lacy in there.

Kathy tapped a finger against her chin, looking up and to the left in an exaggerated demonstration of Thinking Hard. There were four gaudy gold rings on that finger; it was a wonder she could even bend the knuckle. “Excellent coffee? Hmm, let me see… There’s Old Pyke’s Café three blocks down. It’s down the side street between Bett’s Saddlery and the livestock warehouse. They sell coffee. I’m not sure about it being excellent and all, but I like the odd cup occasionally. I’m more of a tea drinker, myself, but… Ooh, you like that, sweetie? It just looks beautiful with your coloring and all.”

Farley turned to find Tess posing in front of a full-length mirror with a black scrap of a dress hooked over her head still attached to the hanger. It took a second to work out that it wasn’t actually a dress but a scandalously see-through item of lingerie. Tess pouted at herself flirtatiously in the mirror, rotating at the hip in order to get a better view.

“I’ll take it,” she said, pulling a wad of rumpled notes from her back pocket. She placed them into Kathy’s eagerly awaiting hands, and the woman flicked through the bills with her nimble, golden-armored fingers. Tess accepted the paper bag that Kathy slipped the gossamer material into, and then fixed the overly friendly woman with an intense glare. “Now, this Old Pyke’s café. Are we talking filter coffee here?”

“Oh, I should think so, sweetie,” Kathy trilled, not realizing she was crushing Tess’ dreams. She gave them her weird finger wave as they exited the store, smiling the whole time.

“That woman was hopped up on Prozac,” Tess complained, thrusting the bag containing the lingerie at Farley. She just looked at the bag and then back up at Tess.

“I’m sorry, what did your last slave die of? I’m not a pack animal, y’know. You can carry your own slutty nightwear!”

Tess smiled, flashing too much teeth not to be thinking wicked things. “Oh, but it’s not
my
slutty nightwear, ma cher, it’s
yours
.”