Halflings (9 page)

Nikki drew a deep breath and tried to explain again. But from the corner of her vision, she felt Raven’s eyes on her, and a sense of appreciation — miniscule as it may be — seemed to drift from him to her. It was no big deal, but she had to wonder if he often found himself on the wrong end of the proverbial gun. And if it was a rare occasion for someone, anyone, to come to his defense. She cleared her throat. “We heard angry voices and turned. Both of us tried to get up there, but Raven’s legs are longer than mine — I barely made it halfway. He shoved Joey and grabbed the knife as Joey went down.” Nikki waited while the words sank in. But the principal’s gaze traveled to Raven.

He lifted his hands, as if to say, “Told ya.”

Schmidt shot a questioning glance to Dr. Richmond.

“It’s true,” he added, rising from his chair. “If Raven hadn’t been there, who knows how this might have concluded.” The apparent anguish over the entire situation showed on Richmond’s face, deepening a frown in his forehead usually caused by intense thought. “Could have been bad.” He shook his head. “Tragic, in fact.”

Schmidt’s posture relaxed as she spoke with the science teacher. “I’d appreciate your discretion in discussing this with anyone, Dr. Richmond. We don’t want to cause a panic. I’ll be making a complete statement at noon.” She turned to Nikki. “As for you, Miss Youngblood, you’ve never been in trouble of any kind.”

Nikki expelled a sharp breath. “I didn’t have anything to do with this,” she said, mindful being in the wrong place at the wrong time could create a guilty verdict, no matter the truth.

Richmond offered an apologetic smile to Nikki. On some deep level, she wondered if the geeky science teacher understood her. She was such a freak to most of the kids, and Krissy had unintentionally done a great job of reminding her of that before science class.
Here we are, a room full of freaks: the new good/bad boy, the black-belt artist, and the geekster science teacher. What a trio of misfits.
No wonder Schmidt was thrown off.

Schmidt stood. “I appreciate your cooperation,” she said in Nikki and Richmond’s direction, ignoring the large blond before her. “Still, I get the feeling you aren’t telling me everything.” And that’s when her eyes fell to Raven.

Nikki fought the urge to look at him. But her heart was pounding. Did Schmidt
know
she was leaving vast holes in the story, like the fact that Raven had suddenly morphed into a predator with moves to rival Jason Bourne? And that her body had been sparking during the whole thing?

Schmidt tromped to the door. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” she said.

“Yes, Ma’am,” both Nikki and Raven answered. Raven rolled his eyes.

“
Both
of you. If there’s more to this story, I intend to find out.”

If she only knew. As far as Nikki could tell, Raven and Mace — both clearly nonhuman beings — had protected her twice, Dr. Richmond once, and saved the guy ready to fight Joey from a knife wound. At the same time, she’d never had any trouble like this until they showed up. Since their uninvited arrival in her life, she’d been nearly killed twice. Were the new
hotties good guys or bad guys? Too soon to tell, but she hoped she’d live long enough to learn the truth.

Schmidt called Richmond back into her office just as the trio exited.

Nikki cast a glance over her shoulder and watched Schmidt close the door. When she turned, midnight eyes were burning holes through her.

“I didn’t need your help in there,” he spat.

“You’re welcome,” she snapped back, her gaze locked with his.

Around them, the hall quieted as kids rushed into classrooms in the last seconds before the bell rang for third hour.

He clenched his teeth. “That wasn’t a thank you.”

She’d never actually seen anyone speak through gritted teeth before. It was fascinating. And if he was trying to intimidate her, the attempt failed miserably. His body radiated white hot, but Nikki found him more intriguing than terrifying. “Again, you’re welcome.”

Storms began to brew in that dark gaze, and she wasn’t sure why she didn’t find it scary. Blond spikes covered portions of his face, but though his teeth were clenched and his eyes had hardened to dark marbles, his lips remained soft. Maybe something only an artist would notice, but his full mouth was loose, no hint of tension. And that was even more interesting than his eyes.

He drew a long, slow breath, shoulders rising.

Nikki fought the urge to smile.

“I didn’t need any backup in there, that’s all I’m trying to say.”

Get over yourself.
“Oh, you didn’t?”

He jerked his head forward. “No, I didn’t.”

“Well, I think you did. Schmidt was about to call the cops back and have them come and haul you away with Joey and the other guy, so whether you want to admit it or not — and from your know-it-all posture and self-serving attitude, I’m guessing not — I did you a favor. So you’re welcome.”

He loudly exhaled all the air he’d sucked into his lungs. “Fine.”

“Fine,” Nikki echoed, but found herself still fighting a goofy grin.

He must have noticed, because he cocked his head. “What now?”

“Sorry, it’s just that you were so busy puffing out your man chest, I was afraid you might burst.”

If it was possible, his eyes darkened even more and thinned to slits.

She swallowed.

Behind her, Dr. Richmond left the principal’s office. He patted Nikki’s shoulder as he walked by. “Don’t worry. Everything is back to normal, now.”

Normal?
Not likely.

“Nikki, I want you to meet someone.” Her dad stuck his head through the kitchen doorway and waved to her as she opened the front door.

She stepped in the house, dropped her backpack onto the couch, and ran a hand through a tangle of windblown hair. She pointed to the powder room — what her mom insisted on calling their downstairs bathroom. “Can I freshen up?”

Her dad shooed her. “Go on, but make it quick.”

Before she reached the bathroom, a rumble of hearty laughter
drifted to her. She paused, shrugged, and went to the mirror to inspect her wasp’s nest of a mess. As she dragged a brush through the knots, laughter erupted from the kitchen again. As well as a deep male voice she didn’t recognize. She cracked the door open and peered out. From her vantage point, the wall blocked all but a sliver of the dining room. Someone breezed past. Tall, dark hair, and jeans. A crisp white shirt, maybe expensive. And he called her mom Mary like he knew her — no, like he knew her really well.

Was this some distant cousin she’d never met? Not likely. The Youngbloods didn’t have any family. The three musketeers. Or the three little pigs, depending on the day. Intrigue forced her to hurry and pull the brush one last time with such force, her head ached.

“There you are,” her dad said.

She’d been right about the shirt. Linen, a material she recognized thanks to her mom corrupting her mind. Expensively cut and hugging his chest and shoulders. On closer inspection, his pants were what Krissy would call rock-star jeans: faded lines at the front pockets and calves, but dark everywhere else. He wore pointed leather shoes, or maybe boots, a kind she’d seen in Sax Fifth Avenue when her mom and dad took her shopping on a rare trip to New York. She kept thinking they might be called pixie boots, but what guy would wear something with the word
pixie
in it? Some kind of scaly animal-skin belt encircled his waist. He sported a deep tan, perfect brown-black hair, and a mega smile. And when she stepped up to meet him, sparkling black-diamond eyes locked on her. “So, this is Nikki.”

Wow. Men like this lived in LA or New York or something. Not in the middle of nowhere Missouri. And there was something else about him, something that set her on edge, but his
flashy smile, strong-but-yummy cologne, and the gold chain at his neck kept distracting her.

She reached her hand to shake his. “I’m at a disadvantage here,” she said. “You know my name, but you haven’t told me yours.”

“Aren’t you charming, Nicole? My name is Damon Vessler. I’m an old friend of your mom and dad. In fact, we work together.”

Nikki frowned. Work together? Her mom and dad’s deal was all their own.

“Sort of,” her dad corrected. “Mr. Vessler purchases a lot of weapons from us. When we have surplus, he sails in and saves the day.” He cleared his throat.

Nikki’s gaze skated to her mom, who was struggling to portray absolute happiness about the unexpected company. “So, you sell antique weapons?” Nikki asked him.

Vessler smiled. “Some. But that’s just one of my many interests. And I’m a hopeless romantic. I keep most of the weapons for myself. Once I fall in love with a piece, I’m incapable of turning it loose.” Something protective flashed in the depths of his obsidian gaze, causing a tiny ripple across Nikki’s stomach.

Her parents reacted too. She could feel their tension drifting on the lasagna-scented air. Nikki donned a perfect smile. “Are you staying for dinner?” Her eyes shifted from Vessler to her mom. Gotcha! Mom reacted just as Nikki thought — horror stricken. So, if her mom didn’t like this guy, and her dad was visibly uncomfortable with this guy but trying so hard to be cheery and nice …
Why is this guy in my house?

“I’d love to stay for dinner, but unfortunately I’m headed to Nashville in a few hours. Some organization wants to honor me.”

Humility was ugly when it was false. “Really, why?”

“It’s for some humanitarian work I like to do.”

Nikki nodded, waiting for more.

Vessler shrugged. “As I said, I have a lot of interests. I’m an inventor of sorts and apparently one of my pet projects has helped a magnitude of people in a third world country.”

“What kinds of things do you invent?”

Again, she was being studied by eyes that said one thing but hinted at something far different. “Boring stuff, Nicole.”

Her dad spoke up. “She might not find it boring. She’s actually quite interested in science.”

Vessler’s eyes trailed to her dad and held for a few agonizing moments. “Your father is being far too kind. Trust me.”

He headed for the front door with her dad in tow. Nikki stayed close on their heels. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Vessler. I hope our paths cross again, as I’d like to know more about what you do.” There was the slightest hint of a challenge in her words, and she wasn’t even completely sure why. He’d been nice enough, but seemed too comfortable in a home not his own.

He turned and locked his gaze on her. “You’ll be seeing more of me, I promise. Events of late have afforded me the opportunity to return to my first love.”

The look in his eyes was searing, like he was branding her. “Your first love?” she uttered, and realized she’d taken a step back.

But all the tension disappeared with his captivating smile. “Yes, the beautiful Ozark Mountains. I do my best work right here.”

And then he left.

She felt like she wanted to take a shower. But at the same time, he’d been so very attentive to her, treated her like an adult, an equal, and she couldn’t help but like that about the guy. Her
first impression was likely due to her suspicious nature. She really hoped she’d get another chance to talk to Damon Vessler again. He was a humanitarian, after all.

Mace sat down last at the dining room table. All three boys had dropped their backpacks by the front door and Vine was mumbling about homework. There’d be time for that later; right now they needed to get down to business. It was four thirty in the afternoon, and they had no guarantee Nikki was in for the night.

At least the heat was off him for a while. One day of school and Raven had landed in the principal’s office.
You’d think Will would expect that by now.
Their guardian wasn’t happy with his prodigal, and Mace had never been so happy to be ignored.

The massive table seemed to have shrunk, with Will taking up most of the space. Will was thick: thick muscles, thick arms, built to be a warrior and withstand the ages. Mace, Raven, and Vine were lean and sinewy like most Halflings. Mace didn’t mind his slender form. He’d watched Will struggle with everything from finding clothes for his ginormous frame to fitting into cars. Through the years, Will had discovered the big and tall men’s section of department stores. But for Mace, being leaner made it easier to pass for human. Something he planned to use to his advantage.