The Banshee and the Linebacker (A Paranormal Romance)

Liam's full lips brushed mine and a sweet hum of pleasure played along my nerve endings. His kisses made me feel safe.
Liam
made me feel safe. Some might have thought there was something strange about that, him being the star running back of our high school's football team. Weren't all football players supposed to be rough? But Liam restricted his roughness to the field.

When he pulled back, one of his hands remained lightly at my waist as he smiled down at me. "You're so pretty, Tara," he said.

"Hmmm." Hiding my face against his chest, I cuddled close to him. My looks bordered on average, but I was glad Liam saw me differently.

We were lost in our own world even as we stood on the sidelines of Richard Johnson Academy Stadium. My hands rested on Liam's shoulders. With one finger he swept a long lock of blonde hair from my face and tucked it behind my right ear, being careful not to snag the hoop earring I wore.

I loved so many things about Liam. But most of all I loved that he wouldn't die until he was a very old age. His death would take place in his own bed where he was surrounded by his children and grandchildren. As a banshee of the O'Neil clan— as my grandmother had been and her grandmother before her—I knew these things. A vision of Liam's fate had hit me with the force of a semi-truck the first time I'd touched him when we were both just ten. His destiny hadn't changed in the seven years since then or I would have known the next time we came into contact. I'd have
seen
his new death.

Liam put a hand to my chin and brought my face up so our eyes met. "Let's go across the river to the reserve tonight."

The wildlife reserve was the local lovers' lane. In the last few weeks, Liam had been subtly pressing to take our relationship to the next stage: a full-fledged hook up. Sex, or even heavy petting, scared me. But I also didn't want to lose Liam. So far he'd been patient about me keeping my virginity, although he did joke that at seventeen I must be the oldest one in the school. How long could he stay faithful to me if I didn't go all the way?

Even though I was unsure of how I would answer, and put him off yet again, I opened my mouth to speak.

"Ellsworth," Coach Dixon barked out to Liam, interrupting us from a few feet away. A scowl furrowed his brow. "You planning to practice today? Or shall I consider you off the team?"

"Practice, Coach." Liam picked up his helmet and tossed me one last smile before he sprinted off toward the field.

The coach turned his red-faced glare on me as he mopped at his forehead with a handkerchief. "Tara Jones. Shouldn't you be practicing with the other cheerleaders in the gym?"

A voice spoke beside me: Keagan.

"Yeah. Don't you have anything better to do than hang with my boring brother? Like, maybe, watch the Astroturf grow?"

"I'm just going, Coach." I didn't respond to Keagan with even a glance. No need. His teasing smirk radiated from him.

Unlike his fraternal twin, Keagan didn't make me feel safe. He was going to die young in a motorcycle accident with his head cracked open and his body horribly mangled under the wheels of a car. The vision hadn't told me exactly when, but Keagan had looked about the same age as he was now. How could I warn him? He wouldn't believe me. Nobody believed me about my visions. Nobody but Gran. Even my parents hadn't believed me. If only they had.

"Come on. Not going to say anything to defend Liam?" he drawled. "That's new. You're usually such a cheerleader." His fingers flicked at the skirt of my uniform, brushing the top of my thigh. That glancing touch sent an involuntary shiver through me and I jumped away from him.

How could twins be this different? Where Liam was a sunny day, Keagan was a stormy one. Liam had shoulder-length blond hair where Keagan had short brown. Liam was athletic but lanky and Keagan had the physique of a wrestler. Where Liam's eyes were sky blue with a mischievous glint, Keagan's were storm cloud gray with an angry edge. Liam was boy-next-door cute but Keagan was dangerously hot sexy. Even as that comparison occurred, a pang of guilt pinched at me.

"Come on, Goody," Keagan said. "Where's your sense of humor?"

"Don't call me that nickname," I grumbled. "I'm not a goody two-shoes."

He chuckled, a low baritone rumble.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, angrily. Keagan didn't attend our private high school, Richard Johnson Academy or Double Dick as the students had dubbed it. When Keagan had failed a math test, his father went crazy, ranting how he wasn't going to waste good money on tuition.

"Either you're stupid or lazy," Mr. Ellsworth had screamed. "And I'm not going to pay for either."

Unfortunately, I'd been at the Ellsworth house for dinner and heard the whole horrible fight. I would never forget the shame that twisted Keagan's face when he realized I was there. Keagan's response had been to rush out and total the family car. After that, he'd been relegated to the public school: Broughton High.

"I'm here scouting the talent," Keagan answered me. "The big game is this Friday night. Johnson Flyers vs. Broughton Hawks."

"You're playing?" Now I did turn to him in surprise. The rivalry between our two schools was fierce. Almost as fierce as the one between Keagan and Liam.

"I'm the Hawks' new middle linebacker. Broughton's coach was thrilled when I enrolled. He even tracked me down to recruit me to the team." His sneering lip quirked even higher. "It seems
someone
appreciates my talents."

"Does Liam know?"

"He will soon." His tone dripped with such animosity it frightened me. I'd always thought Keagan's Mom and Dad were wrong to treat him like demon spawn and Liam like an angelic gift, but that wasn't Liam's fault.

"Are you really so jealous of your brother that you actually hate him?" I asked. "Sometimes you can be such a...a...a...toad."

"Ribbit"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You say I act like I'm a toad, so I thought I'd sound like one." His eyes bored into mine. "Maybe if you'd kiss me, I'd turn into a handsome prince." Puckering his lips, Keagan closed his eyes before waiting expectantly.

Thank God for those closed eyes. Otherwise he might have seen the desire I knew must be showing on my face. I cut off the feeling with a ruthless swing of my conscience club. If I had to beat those stupid impulses of attraction to Keagan into submission, I'd do it. Getting swept into his black hole was all kinds of wrong. And why was I so attracted anyway? Keagan was mean to me and the intensity of his meanness had only mounted over the last three years. Ever since I began dating Liam, in fact.

"Stop that," I said, punching his shoulder with the flat of my palm. "Everyone knows it's frogs that turn into princes, not toads."

"Oh, right. But you know you want to break out of the good girl mode and go wild. Why not with me? Just one kiss. How 'bout it?"

"You've got every pretty girl in the area panting after you. Why don't you leave me alone?"

"All those girls don't matter." Keagan put a hand on my arm and the tingles radiated outward from his touch like exploding fireworks. "I'm just using them to make you jealous. You're the one I really want." The comment was nice but his quirky smirk and arched brow taunted me.

"Sure," I said, slapping his hand away.

"Okay, you caught me. I'm having trouble traveling to my usual circle of girls since Dad cut off my access to the family car keys. Of course, he gave Liam his very own pick-up." A derisive curl formed on his lips. "I just saw an ad for a motorcycle in the paper. I've probably got enough money saved to buy—"

"No," I cut in. "Not a good idea. Those things are dangerous."

"You're worried about me? How sweet," he said in a tone filled with sarcasm. "But I know how to ride. I've been practicing on Dad's."

"I mean it. Promise me. No motorcycles. Not even your Dad's."

He threw up his hands in a mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I promise. I really wanted a car, anyway." Keagan leaned in and ran the tip of his index finger along my jaw. He whispered in my ear, "More room to maneuver in the backseat of a car."

"Hey." Liam shouted from the field. He removed his helmet and threw it to the ground as he barreled towards us. "Get your hands off her, dude."