Halflings (30 page)

Mace reached to her cheek and ran his knuckles along her skin. “That’s right,” he said in almost a whisper. “Nikki likes the wind in her hair.”

Well now.
The ringing of her phone — Krissy’s ringtone — broke the moment. “Excuse me.” She fished the phone from her little purse and answered. “Yes, the dress looks fine.” She met Mace’s gaze and mouthed
sorry
. “Yes, Krissy, I’m wearing the earrings you picked out. Okay, see you at the game.” Nikki’d grown more and more comfortable in the tighter jeans and the cute, sometimes sparkly, decorated T-shirts Krissy helped her purchase. After her fight with Raven, proving looser clothes a liability, she’d promised herself to give the outfits a try. To her shock, jeans with a bit of stretchy material actually made it easier to move. But the fitted, green homecoming dress was a whole other matter, one that ushered a new level of unease. Shoulders bare, she squirmed, wishing she’d brought a cover-up. She rolled her eyes at her wedge sandals.
Easy to walk in. Yeah, right.
Adding to her awkwardness, the thing with Mace and the females still loomed above their heads. He could deny it all he wanted, but when she mentioned Glimmer, his eyes got that far away, moony look. Ugh.

Mace rubbed his hands on his pants before opening her door.
Is he actually nervous?

She glanced inside at the small plastic container on the seat.

“Oh, almost forgot.” He reached in. “I bought you a corsage.” Dressed in a dark suit, he was absolutely stunning. “I know it’s probably cheesy.”

Tiny flowers surrounded a delicate miniature white rose tied together with a dark-green satin sash. “It’s not cheesy.” Her eyes narrowed. “How’d you know?”

“Your mom. I asked what color you were wearing, and she told me last week. Nikki —” Her name slid from his lips with a long breath.

Don’t
, she thought. He wanted to explain about the arrival of the females, about his reaction, all of it. It was just too raw. Too painful. The Golden Girls were … well, pretty close to perfection, and Nikki was a silly teenage girl. A mixed-up, stuck-in-two-worlds teenage girl with no hope of understanding the epic struggles half angels must face.

At least Raven had steered clear of her lately. What had his reaction to the females been? She hadn’t really noticed. And she didn’t know why it mattered now. That was the thing — it didn’t matter what Raven thought of the females. Just like it didn’t matter that Mace loved her.

Homecoming night had a vibe all its own, she discovered. School spirit and teen anticipation. Usually whenever she went to a football game, the marching band and the cheerleaders couldn’t get the bleachers full of teenagers barely drifting beyond complacency to summon as much as a feeble yell, if the students bothered to attend the game at all. But not tonight. With every completed pass, the same apathetic kids were on their feet screaming.

Mace and Nikki sat in his car at the edge of the field. With the lights off, they could make out the scoreboard, which showed the opposition trailed by thirteen points. Sounds filtered through the airways to them. “How old are you?” she asked.

He blushed.

Slipping her foot out of the high-heeled death sandal, she said it again. “Mace, how old?”

He frowned. “It’s hard to say in human terms. Time doesn’t really matter in the midplane.”

“What was it like to be a little boy with superhuman powers?”

“I wouldn’t know. None of us would. Up until the time we’re in our older teens, we seem just like everyone else. Maybe a little more in tune with the other realm, but that’s all. Vine is sort of the breakout star of our group. He started realizing power at fourteen. He’s only fifteen now, two years younger than me.”

“Fifteen human years?”

“Yeah, until we begin journeys, we stay mostly in this realm. After that, when we begin going to the midplane, we sort of lose track of time. We have a permanent home in Europe and a few others throughout the world that other Lost Boys use as well. Once we begin journeys, we spend quite a bit of time in the midplane too, so there’s really nowhere we call home.”

“Tell me about the midplane.”

“It’s the part of the spirit realm that’s open to us. We aren’t allowed to enter heaven, and who’d want to enter hell?”

“But you age?”

“Slowly, yes. I mean, I have knowledge of some pretty ridiculously cool things, but I feel like a teenager. Our personalities fit where we are in human years. Does that make sense?”

“I think so. You’re seventeen in human years and you feel like a seventeen-year-old, which is good, because I don’t want to hang out with some old man.”

“That would be creepy. But our youth is renewed when we spend time in the midplane.” He took her hand in his. “Nikki, we have to talk about some things.”

She looked up at the scoreboard and swallowed. “No, we don’t.” Mace was the only thing that kept her from busting apart at each joint. Even her parents, with their admission about Damon Vessler, caused more of the ground to crumble beneath her feet. The last thing she needed was to “talk.”

“I’ve tried to avoid being close to you,” he said, words soft and gentle.

No, please, please, please don’t say it
. He was leaving. What choice did he have? And she was so selfish to want to keep him here, but the thought of losing him, never again hearing his voice, never again seeing that smile that was meant only for her … “You’re right,” she blurted.

Confusion played across his face.

But somewhere between internally begging him to stay and verbally agreeing he should go, she found strength. Strength that rose from so deep, she’d not known it existed. “You’re right,” she repeated. If the words brought the power, she needed more. “You can go. We tried to do the friend thing, failed miserably …”

He shook his head and squared his shoulders. “That’s not what I was going to say.” A look of wonder rested on his face, Nikki wasn’t sure what to do.

“Um, okay.”
When all else fails, go back to your strength as a brilliant conversationalist.

He pulled a short, quick breath and gave her hands a light squeeze. “What I’m trying to say is —” He exhaled again.

And she was lost. Lost in his angel breath, lost in his ocean eyes. What was wrong with him right now?
Just say what you have to say!
Even his hands were clammy. Oh, maybe that was her hands creating the cool, slick feeling.

“I’ve been thinking about us. Nikki, when Halflings fall in love …”

Her heart dropped, and suddenly it all became clear: his nervousness, his energy. This was the “I’m going to let you down easy” speech. Of course. “You don’t have to explain.”
Please, please don’t explain! I can’t bear the thought of you and one of those angelic, winged creatures falling in love.
But it made sense, really. Nikki’d caught his attention until the females appeared. Now he knew what he could have, and that made it easier to let go of her. And that was a good thing for him. It was only her heart on the line, but it was his eternal future.

“Nikki, do you think you’re going to give me a chance to finish a sentence here? Because it’s starting to sound like a pretty one-sided conversation.”

She slowly pulled her hands from his grasp. “Mace, you don’t need to say it. Somewhere out there is a female Halfling that’s a perfect match for you.” Oh, those words sounded strong. Even indifferent, but gentle. She should be proud. She could win an Oscar.

His angry breath surprised her. This was where he should be thanking her and relief should be flooding him. Instead, he closed his hands on each side of her face.

Uh-oh. There goes all my award-winning strength.
His touch and the sudden intensity and the certainty in his gaze drained the surety from her.

“Nikki, I love you.”

Her eyes closed, both trying to reject the words and trying to capture them. Eyes shut, there was only blackness and the sound of Mace’s breathing. And his warm, warm hands on her skin. For a fraction of an instant, she pressed into his touch. But only for an instant, because if she loved him, she couldn’t let him stay. Seeing the females solidified how much she
didn’t
belong with Mace.

“When we’re together, I feel alive. And when we’re not, I feel dead.”

Dead. Yes, that’s how she felt right now. Or should feel. What she wanted and what should be were all mixed up in a package marked destruction. In the big scheme of things, feelings didn’t really matter. Isn’t that what he’d tried to tell her?

“There is no female on this planet, or any other, that can make me feel what you do. Nikki, right or wrong, you’re my match.”

That was so unfair. Trying to use destiny and providence to justify their emotions. She had to stop the runaway train
right now
.

Nikki had found that, when sparring, there is a moment during a fight when the opponent knows he has the upper hand. Sensei Coble called it the flash-kill moment, because the enemy thinks he’s all but won and drops his defenses. It was the second of time when you needed to use every ounce of power against him. Nikki took her chance. “I am your match,” she said, and bristled against the long sigh from his lips.

Now the strike. “But you’re not mine.”

His hands dropped and she watched the color leave his face. And those beautiful eyes seemed to melt before her. Hurt found its way into their depths as his brow quirked and nervous tension rose from him in panicked waves.

She held firm to his gaze, unflinching. If a heart was to break, it should break quickly — anything else would be cruel. But when she could stand the bewildered look no longer, she dropped her eyes and angled to face forward. “I should have told you.”

Outside, the scoreboard lit up and cheers filled the air. Another touchdown for the home team. She swallowed the pain.

All the sound that had surrounded them died to deafening quiet as the reality of what she’d just done to him settled into her bones like a disease. After a long time, betrayal and acceptance crackled from Mace. Nikki hoped he wasn’t imagining her with Raven. In her peripheral vision, she watched his eyes squeeze shut, trying to block the hurt. The muscle in his jaw worked, and she had to wonder if its job was to keep sorrow from spilling down his face in hot, disloyal tears.

When she reached for the door handle, he grabbed her wrist. She glanced down at his fingers, now trembling as he held her. “Just don’t forget why you’re here, Nikki.”

An urgency was in his voice, masked by his pain. “Separate from me or from … anyone else. You’re here to make a choice. Don’t lose sight of that.”

What? She had made a choice. Then she realized what he meant. There were even greater forces out there pulling her in two directions. Mace’s final words to her were a warning for her future. Her soul.

“Don’t land on the wrong side of this eternal war.”

Her heart hurt. Physically, the pain and its intensity was increasing by the moment. But she couldn’t back down now. Mace was still making sacrifices for her protection even though she’d just cut his heart out with a dull knife.
Flash kill. You can’t back down during a flash kill.

“I won’t. I made the right choice.” With every ounce of will, she stepped out of his car, closed the door, and walked toward the school, away from the football field. The walk became a run. By the time she made it halfway, her face was wet with tears.

He didn’t follow her.

Moist air filled her lungs as she disappeared into the shadow
of the building and collapsed against its brick wall. Agony tightened around her like a shrinking second skin, stealing her oxygen, choking her lungs. Her core was an empty hole, gaping and unprotected. And Nikki understood what true heartache was. She closed her fist over her chest trying to erase Mace’s face and the way it crumbled when she destroyed him. The sounds of the football game echoed to her. Above, a single light illuminated an American flag, which whipped rhythmically each time the breeze kicked up. Thrown by the wind, scrambled by the elements, tattered by the heat of an unforgiving sun … she could relate.

The flag swayed regally, standing strong in the wind assailing it. Perhaps the same material could have ended up as a tablecloth or a dress. But, no, it had a purpose, a destiny to represent a nation of survivors and conquerors. It was a fighter. Like her. And this was a war. She’d do well to remember her place in it.

For a long time, she thought about epic battles and choices and what it meant to truly sacrifice. Her mind trailed to the Catholic church, where Mace told her she needed a sanctuary. The eyes of the Savior had brought calm as she’d gazed into them. He understood sacrifice. If no one else could fathom what she’d just done, certainly Jesus knew.

He knew. Nikki had to wonder what that meant for her. Did she actually believe that he —

Well, she still didn’t know for sure. There were too many questions, too many unsolved answers. And yet, at the moment, she couldn’t remember one argument she’d used. Not one. But that was only because her heart was broken, she reasoned, thoroughly grounded into powder, making it difficult — no, impossible — to think clearly about things like eternal choices
and timeless wars. But until she had time, it was comforting to know someone understood her pain.