Forecast (9 page)

My heart tightened. I suddenly missed them so much. It had been a constant steady ache, but in that moment, our separation squeezed my heart. Hard. I missed Raven’s bleary-eyed stare in the morning while she waited for tea—the way she’d smile sleepily at me as she tried one of my new blends.
The way she never made a face
,
even when it was awful
. I missed Kat’s fierce protectiveness, even when it drove me nuts. I flattened my hands on the art, wishing we could have done this together. I wanted to prove my own strength, but I also knew that we were better together. That it was supposed to be that way.

And I couldn’t help but worry that the prophecy would come true and one of us wouldn’t make it. What would it be like to be only two? I closed my eyes because I couldn’t imagine any of us surviving the death of one.

“You okay? You suddenly look really sad.” Taran stood next to me and gently touched my shoulder.

I took a deep breath, got myself under control, then looked up at him. The concern on his face, genuine and solid, warmed me. “I’m missing my sisters and I’m worrying about what they’re going through.”

“Do you want to call one of them?”

“I will. Soon.” I turned toward him. “What’s it like being an only child?”

His laugh startled me. “You did notice that most of the time Josh and Grim are here, right? Technically, yeah, I’m an only child, but they’ve been around as long as I can remember. We played on this floor in diapers.” He patted the pocket of his jeans, where I could see the outline of his phone. “I’m surprised I haven’t heard from their mom. She sort of adopted me when mine died.” He looked up at the metal art. “She came here with my mother, who brought that thing with her all the way from Norway. Apparently, it cost a fortune to ship, but she always said it was priceless.”

He moved away from me, picked up another log and knelt by the woodstove. “It belonged to my grandmother first. Knowing what I do now, I have to wonder if she’d known about me.” He looked up. “If she’d known I would meet one of the norns. She was obsessed with them—with all stories and myths of three sisters.”

“I’m not a norn.” I walked over to kneel next to him. “Just like you aren’t Thor. We’re still ourselves.” I had to believe that. Raven had always been scared that the goddesses we had inside us would take us over and make us disappear. I couldn’t believe mine would do that to me.
Just couldn’t
. I put my hand on my chest as warmth flowed through it. “I believe they’re here to help, to guide us.”

“And we’re supposed to work together, aren’t we?” He brushed wood chips off his hands, rubbed them down his jeans, then touched my cheek. I noticed he took care, held back so the touch was feather-gentle. “Your face is still red from the cold outside.”

My stomach fluttered.

“I’m not sure what it is about you, Coral. I feel like I know you and I don’t think it has anything to do with your goddess. And it isn’t just that you’re hot. Because you are that.” There came a hint of that wicked grin. One dimple appeared. “But I really like you.”

“I like you, too.” I touched the hand he still had on my face. “You’re a good person, whether you believe it or not. I can tell.”

He shook his head slowly as his grin faded. “I’m not too sure about that.” He abruptly pulled his hand back and did that flexing thing I was starting to think was habit. He stood and walked toward the kitchen. “Go ahead and pick a movie. Anything but
The Day After Tomorrow
,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m so sick of snow!”

I sighed and stood, then walked to the shelves of DVDs, wishing he’d stayed kneeling by me a little longer so I could have erased that self-doubt on his face. Wishing I knew why he seemed to want to touch me...but seemed afraid of that desire. I reached for
The Shining
, snickering.

Taran rolled his eyes when he saw it, but put it into the DVD player. He pointed to the couch and we sat next to each other. “Do you think that thing in the restaurant was really a dark elf?” He leaned down to pick up one of the mugs off the coffee table, handed it to me, then grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch.

The blue throw was one of those soft fuzzy kinds I loved, and I shared it with him.

He scooted closer and his smile this time wasn’t wicked or flirty or anything like any of the others he’d given me. There was a hint of shyness and sweetness to this one that stole my breath.

I realized a sweet Taran could possibly devastate me.

For a split second, fear knotted up in my stomach, then I let it go because I quickly accepted that it would be worth it.

He pressed the side of his leg against mine and I shivered, hoping he’d attribute it to the cold, but pretty sure he’d know he affected me.

I’d seen something in his expression several times today. He felt disconnected from people, apart from things. It was an emotion I knew intimately, and it made me feel linked to him even more. I’d also noticed that every now and then he looked at me in a different way. Maybe with a little hope.

Turning his head, he laid it against the back of the couch and stared at me. “Did you notice the way he looked at you? That elf? Like he knew you?”

I didn’t want to think about that thing. Didn’t want the return of that fear—the absolute creepy wrongness I felt when around that dark elf. But it swept back in with the memory of its expression. “I think he does know me.” I bit my lip. “I think I’ve seen him before.”

“Really? When?”

“When I was little, I went through this weird period of nightmares. I kept dreaming this scary man-shaped thing was sneaking into our tent to watch us sleep—me and my sisters.” I shivered, remembering how helpless I’d felt then, how angry I always grew when nobody saw him, nobody believed me. “I would wake up and he’d be there and when I screamed and my sisters woke, they never, ever saw him. They thought I was making it up.”

“What did your mom say?”

“Oh, of course I didn’t tell her. All she knew was bad dreams made me scream. I didn’t tell her about the thing I saw.”

His frown drew his eyebrows together. “Why not?”

“Because my mother is the most paranoid person alive. Remember, I told you that she brought us up believing someone was going to kill us. But I think it was more than that. I think she was running from someone in her past, too. Why else wouldn’t she ask her huge family to help keep us safe?”

“You have a huge family?”

“Maybe. I think so.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Sometimes she’d forget and talk about her past, but then she always got weird.”

“Weirder than normal, I’m guessing you mean. You did say
tent
, right? You lived in a tent?”

I nodded. “Most of the time. We moved around to different campgrounds and when I say she got weirder, I meant she’d go silent and moody, then almost manic. We were still allowed to go to school then and we never knew if she’d be crying or dancing around a campfire when we got home.” I paused, not sure I should share more. But I wanted to—wanted him to know more about me. “The worst times were when she’d go sort of catatonic. She’d sit and not move for hours. One time, it lasted days. My sister Kat got into her face, screaming, and she just...she just didn’t move. Not even to get up to pee.” That was when we’d learned to look out for ourselves—when Raven had suddenly started acting more adult. “We were eight. But now that I’m talking about it, I remember seeing that elf thing even before then.”

He reached out and tucked the blanket around my neck, offering comfort so effortlessly I don’t even think he knew that’s what he was doing. I rested my cheek on the back of the couch as he had, stared at him.

“I can’t even imagine what your childhood was like,” he said, his tone soft. “Mine was a little strange with my mom’s obsession with her stories, but nothing like that. I always felt safe.”

His breath brushed across the space between us, brushed over my mouth. I shivered.

“I hate that you didn’t feel safe.”

“I wonder what that thing wants. Why it keeps coming around.” I didn’t say it, couldn’t even bring myself to carry the thought all the way through, but Mist calling me a darkling had sparked a horror deep inside—one I was terrified to let loose.

It was one thing to know you carried the soul of a goddess and another to have magic that turned your life into a big mess. But to see an actual mythological creature from the stories...to know that it had followed me...to think maybe it was my...my...

I quickly shoved those thoughts away fast. Tried to remember anything significant about dark elves other than that they lived in Svartalfaheimer or Svartalfheim—depending on where I read about it. They were sometimes thought to be the same as dwarves. I’d never seen either, of course, but it was hard to equate that black, pointed thing in the restaurant with the description of a dwarf.

Or maybe I’d watched too many movies about lords, rings and Hobbits.

“Coral, this is going to sound weird because we just met, but would you stay here tonight? You can take my bed. I’ll sleep out here. I don’t like the idea of you home alone with that thing still out there. We don’t know what Mist and Magnus did with it, and we don’t know if there are more of them around.” He let go of the blanket, picked up the remote. “Plus, my dad already said it was dangerous on the roads and it’ll be late when this movie is over. You picked a long one.” He winked, turned toward the television again and held out his left arm.

I took up the obvious invitation to snuggle. “I’ll stay. I’m a little too creeped out to go to my cold house alone.” And it wouldn’t be late when the movie was over, just dark. Maybe. Who knew with the crazy weather?

“Cold?”

“No electricity. It was like waking in the middle of the South Pole this morning.”

“Well, that settles it then.” He tightened his arm around my shoulder slightly.

“You’re like a furnace. It’s nice.”

“Yeah, I’ve always run hot.” He held up the remote, then lowered it without turning anything on. He was quiet a few moments so I looked up at him. “It isn’t only my body that runs hot.”

“You’re talking about your temper?”

He was silent again then sighed. “Did I scare you?”

I leaned to the side so I could fully see his face. “Why would you have scared me?”

“I’ve scared girls before when I didn’t mean to. And today, I picked that bigger guy off the ground and I would have pounded him back into it if you hadn’t distracted me with your hands.”

Grinning, I put my hand on his side again. “Who knew these hands had the power to soothe Thor.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, his cheeks turning red. “But feel free to stroke anywhere you want.”

And there it went again—that crazy, instant, blinding heat. My heart picked up tempo. It beat so hard, I could feel it against my ribs. My norn started to move and I silently begged her to go away and not ruin this moment. The way he stared at me, his gaze going from my eyes to my mouth, filled me with anticipation and I had to resist the urge to squirm. Instead I held very still and tried to remember how to breathe when he leaned closer, not once taking his gaze off me. He was waiting for something. Acceptance? Permission? I had no idea what. I licked my lips and his gaze shot to my mouth, and it was like someone else took me over. Someone braver. Someone who knew what she was doing.

I let go of the blanket and slid my fingers into the hair on either side of his head. He sucked in his breath, his dark eyes glittering at me in a way that pulled fire through my gut.

I pulled him down and pressed my lips to his.

And it was nothing like the one kiss I’d had from another boy.
Nothing.
Taran’s lips pressed firmly—and it wasn’t sloppy and wet and weird. Gods, it was so, so much better.

Yet, something was off. I could feel him holding himself back. I pulled back, stared at his eyes so close and yet so filled with an emotion I didn’t understand. His gaze dropped back to my mouth and suddenly, I knew.

He was afraid.

Of himself.

Afraid of his own strength. I flashed to what Billy had said, flashed to the times Taran had touched me and quickly let go...the way he always flexed his hands. He was strong, stronger than normal, and it wasn’t a reluctance to touch me holding him back, it was a fear of hurting me. I could feel the shaking excitement in his touch and yet, underneath, there was a dark thread of worry that let me know this boy wanted to let himself loose on me and was doing everything he could not to.

Oh no, I wasn’t settling for part of him—not when I knew there was something incredible going on here. Not when it came to this.

“I know what you’re thinking,” I whispered. “And I’m tougher than I look.” I pulled him close, using my own strength, and felt his quick grin against my lips before I tilted my head and kissed him. Really kissed him. I pressed nearer and slid my arms around his neck, and his hands came up to cup my cheeks. He sucked on my lower lip lightly before pressing harder and opening my mouth to his. The first tentative touch of his tongue made me gasp and wrap my arms tighter around his neck. His hands slid down my shoulders to my arms, then he pulled me closer and groaned.

And let himself loose.

One kiss after another. Drugging, hot kisses that had me seeing stars. When I finally pulled back enough to breathe, I stared at him, stunned that I’d gone from chilled to scorched so fast. Stunned that small, kind-of-weird me could inspire that sort of passion in anyone.

And he was feeling it. His hands were gripping my hips. Not hard enough to hurt, but firm and full of intent. Like he was about to pull me into his lap.

I think I would have crawled there myself if my phone hadn’t vibrated across the table then. The tone was Raven’s and before I could ignore it, pain shot through my head and all the heat from our kiss left my body as if it had been sucked out.

Crying out, I pulled back from Taran, my teeth chattering, my eyes going wide with worry. It took me a moment to fumble for my phone and I answered on the third ring. “You’re hurt.”

She didn’t answer right away and it sounded like she was in a wind tunnel, so I knew she was outside. “Gods, Coral, it’s crazy here! I’m in a forest, wet and cold, and get this, I’m walking with wolves.”