Touched (22 page)

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Authors: Corrine Jackson

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Touched
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His eyes blazed at me with a power that had me yearning to step into the fire again.
“Your defenses, Remy.”
I grimaced and reinforced them. “Sorry about that.”
His forehead dropped to mine again. “It wasn’t that. Remember when I told you that I could hear your thoughts when you were feeling particularly strong about something—even when your barricade is up?”
My face warmed as embarrassment flooded through me. I cleared my throat. “Yes, well, sorry about that, too.”
A corner of his full lips tilted up. “Are you kidding? Knowing I affect you the same way you do me? I wouldn’t give that up for anything.”
“Then why?” I indicated his fingers still wrapped around my wrists with confusion.
“My control was slipping, too. Green sparks, remember?”
“Oh.”
Asher backed away, letting me go. “Yeah. Oh. Get in the car, O’Malley. I need to get you home before your dad flays me alive.” Circling around the hood of the Audi, he opened the driver’s door, resting his elbows on the roof of the car with the keys dangling from his hands. “You know, if you keep this up, you won’t have any secrets from me.”
I grinned at him. “Bet I have a few you haven’t heard.”
He laughed and got in the car. A short time later, he stopped the car at my house and escorted me to the front door. We were both aware of eyes watching from behind the curtains as we hugged good-bye. It wasn’t until he walked away that I dropped my guard and called his name. He turned with a questioning smile.
I love you.
His stunned expression was the last thing I saw before I pushed the front door closed. That was definitely one secret he hadn’t heard.
C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-TWO
A
sher picked me up early the next morning.
Luckily, Ben and Laura had left early to go sailing because I wasn’t too sure how my father would have reacted to Asher’s motorcycle. I shot a doubtful glance at the red helmet he handed me, thinking it wouldn’t be much help in a crash. Asher responded with a challenging arch of one brow, as if I’d insulted him. Recalling his reflexes of the night before, I had to admit I’d be insulted in his shoes. I put the helmet on, straddled the seat behind him, and wrapped my arms around his waist in a death grip.
The engine started with a throaty roar, and my eyes squeezed shut. Asher took off and cold wind rushed past me, filling my nostrils with the salty scent of the ocean and the boy I loved. I braved opening my eyes and the world sped past without the barrier of windows or steel doors. Houses, water, and the green-brown blur of earth and trees swirled together, and a thrill of excitement shot from my spine to my toes as I leaned with Asher’s body into a turn. The freedom intoxicated me. Asher’s hand squeezed mine at his waist when I laughed.
He drove toward Fort Rowden State Park, but headed farther west down a road I’d never been on before, passing a wetlands reserve Ben had mentioned. He turned north on a street that dead-ended at a cement barrier like those that separated the lanes of the highway. Asher parked the bike on a plot of dirt at the side of the road. Cutting the engine, he pulled off his matching helmet and twisted to face me. “Good morning.”
“Hi.” I smiled, feeling shy after exposing myself so completely the night before. “Is something wrong with your car?”
He grasped my arm to save me from a face-plant when I slid off the bike. His dismount was ten times more graceful, and he placed our helmets on the seat before guiding me around the cement barrier. With a sheepish grin, he admitted, “No. I wanted the excuse to touch you.”
My skin warmed, and I blurted out, “Where are we?” I looked about with curiosity. A worn dirt path rounded a bend ahead, and the ocean lay in front of us.
Asher’s expression lit with excitement. “The locals call it the Edge of the World.”
He tugged me around the corner. The view took my breath away, and I settled against Asher’s chest to take it in. We stood a hundred feet over the beach at the edge of a cliff. Everywhere I looked an infinite fabric of turquoise sky was sewn to blue ocean. With no fence to bar us from stepping right up to the edge, it felt like the very end of the world.
“Remy?”
“Hmm?” I rolled my head against his shoulder to meet his gaze.
“I love you.”
My breath hitched at the intensity in his deep voice. With our guards up, he pressed soft lips to my forehead and then the corner of my mouth. Remembering the hidden kiss meant only for him—I smiled and threw my arms around him. I kissed him back and thought,
I love you.
The embrace changed when he heard me, and he gripped me tighter. His guard slipped and his energy swirled in the air around us. I worried he was in pain, but he merely slipped a hand into my hair and spread his fingers over my scalp in a gentle caress. The heat spread through me, and my own guard slipped. The knowledge that my touch could hurt him enabled me to pull away. He couldn’t hide his wince when he strengthened his own defenses. He dropped his forehead against mine and gave a soft laugh that sent a shiver through me. “Rule number two. You can’t think things like that when I’m kissing you. It makes me forget rule number one.”
I sighed. “I hate how it hurts you to touch me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m grateful that I can feel you at all.”
His lips pressed a sweet kiss into my open palm.
“What does it feel like to you?” I wondered if he felt the heat I did.
“Hmm . . . Let’s see. Your skin is like the satin ribbons my sister wore in her hair as a child.” The fingers of his free hand whispered across my cheek until he captured a long curl. “Your hair is soft as the silk handkerchiefs my mother embroidered for my father.”
His face slipped to the curve of my neck, and his breath stirred the exposed skin there until I shivered again. “And sometimes, I can almost imagine you smell like lemons and vanilla.”
My body froze, and Asher lifted his head to eye me with curiosity. “Did I do something wrong?”
I studied his sculpted features. “Laura bought me a lemon-vanilla-scented lotion in South Portland. I’ve been wearing it for weeks.”
“You must’ve been thinking about it,” he said, with a frown.
“Or maybe your sense of smell is coming back.”
Long, elegant fingers wove through mine, and he shook his head. “Not likely. I don’t smell anything now.”
Disappointed, I let the matter drop, but wasn’t convinced. If he could feel me, maybe his other senses could return, too.
Asher sank to the ground and tugged me down by his side a few feet from the ledge. “I wanted a chance to talk alone before we went to my house.”
“Is something wrong?”
His smile appeared slightly crooked. “No, but you should know what to expect.”
“You mean Lottie? I’m guessing I know where I stand with Gabe.”
Asher glanced away, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Not quite. Your mother left out some important details about the bonding process.”
My skin suddenly turned ice cold. “You’re not telling me I’m going to bond to him, too?”
Asher swung around in shock. “No! No, we form one bond at a time. Usually between the oldest daughter and the eldest son.”
A long pause stretched out as he waited for me to grasp what he was saying. “But we . . . You’re not the eldest.”
“Right. In the natural course of things, you should’ve bonded to Gabe.”
I thought of bonding to Gabe with his scary energy and menacing looks. The idea of him in my head was so repugnant that I shuddered. “Like hell!”
My fierce tone made Asher grin. “I agree wholeheartedly. Gabe, on the other hand, is not too pleased with the situation.”
The scene at Rosy’s when I’d first met Gabe suddenly made sense. He’d been testing my connection to Asher. I shuddered again.
Asher laughed. “You don’t have to worry. I thought you should know in case the subject came up. We’ve never known a bond to skip the eldest.”
I gave him a smug smile. “Maybe that means you’re the weird one this time. What about Lottie? How much does she hate me?”
He grimaced. “Not hate exactly. More like fear. Lottie doesn’t react well to change. She likes things the way they are, and knowing how you’ve affected me and Gabe, she’s scared.”
Rising to his feet, he reached down to help me up. Gripping his hands, I asked, “Are you sure this is a good idea? What if my being there hurts your family?”
Asher tugged me close and wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t worry. I’ve warned them to keep their guard up. Ready?”
I nodded and we walked back to the bike.
“One more thing. I checked on Dean’s whereabouts. According to his credit card statements, he’s still in New York. You don’t have to worry about him.”
A wave of relief went through me that I hadn’t really seen my stepfather that night. My mind must have played tricks on me. “Thanks for checking. How were you able to get that kind of info?”
An enigmatic smile lit his features.
Money
, I guessed. He’d said it could move mountains. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. One day you’ll believe me that you’re not alone in this.”
Settled on the motorcycle behind him, I hugged him tight.
I already do.
 
Even knowing how rich he was, Asher’s house was nothing like I expected. Possessions meant little to Asher in the way of those who’d always had money. His house was a mansion—a grandiose, gaudy Victorian that watched over the harbor and the town below. As long as I’d been in Blackwell Falls, I’d seen the building adorning the hilltop with its fanciful, old-fashioned rose gardens, pastel yellow paint, wraparound porch, and fancy turrets. I’d thought the house was a hotel and nobody had told me any different, probably assuming I knew it was Asher’s home.
I lost it. When Asher sent me a questioning look, I said through my giggles, “You live in a wedding cake.”
He didn’t take offense but reached over to tickle my ribs as we climbed the stairs to the front porch. I shrieked and twisted away from him. His eyebrows shot up as he realized how ticklish I was. Then, without me seeing him move, he’d swept me off my feet with both arms wrapped around my waist, and his fingers playing over my sides. He smirked at me squirming above his head. “Say uncle.”
Helplessly laughing, I leaned down instead to touch my lips to his. When his arms loosened at my touch, I wriggled away. Before I could get entirely free, he grasped my hand and spun me back into his arms. Our laughter faded as he bent to kiss me.
A throat cleared nearby, and I would have sprung away if not for Asher pinning me to his side. I peered around him and saw Gabe watching us from the open front door. He looked mildly curious at finding us embracing on the front porch. I had to fight the urge to hide behind Asher. “Let me go!” I whispered.
He merely dropped a kiss on my forehead and faced his brother with me tucked under his arm. He ignored my subtle shove in his side. “Remy, you’ve met my brother.”
“Hi, Gabe.” This time Asher let me go when I shoved him.
Gabe inclined his head toward me with the barest hint of civility. “Healer. You might as well come in now that you’re here.”
With an uncertain look at Asher, I grasped his hand and followed his brother through the front door. The rooms I could see had been painted warm creams, soft yellows, and cool sage greens with comfortable furniture in darker woods and jewel-toned plush velvets. Framed photographs hung on every wall, most in black and white, and the lilting voice of a French café singer crooned softly in the background.
For a family that lacked the use of many of their senses, an abundance of sensation could be found in their home. The antique vases of crimson and pink roses decorating every surface brought the perfume of a summer garden indoors.
“So that’s what it smells like.”
Gabe turned to look at Asher, but I knew what he’d sensed through his hand on mine.
He tilted his head at a vase on an entryway table. “Our home. Remy smelled the roses.”
Gabe’s eyes lit with interest. “You smell them, too?”
Asher shook his head. “No. Her touch is the only thing I feel for myself. With scent and taste, it’s more that I sense what Remy thinks things smell and taste like.” He smiled down at me and shrugged. “She loves roses.”
Gabe’s eyes gleamed with speculation, and I wondered if it was a mistake to raise false hopes when we had no idea what could come of this.
Asher, are you sure this won’t make things worse?
A hand soothed along my back. “It’s okay, Remy. Gabe doesn’t expect anything.”
Gabe leaned forward, dropping all pretense of formality. “You’re reading her mind now?”
Lottie slipped into the room behind him, the same intent look lighting her delicate features. “How is this possible? I’ve never heard of a Protector able to read a Healer. Not even when a bond existed.”
Gabe studied me, and I felt hunted again. “I’d say we’ve moved beyond what was possible. Remy is unlike any Healer we’ve met. Can’t you feel it?”
Lottie paused a moment, seeming to concentrate, and her eyes opened wide in surprise, her red lips pursing. Whatever she felt, she did not look happy about it.
I sensed nothing unusual and turned to Asher. “Feel what?”
He tucked a hair behind my ear. “You’re humming.”
I blinked in surprise. As usual, when I touched another, my body gathered energy in preparation for scanning and healing. I’d thought that if I didn’t send my energy outward, Asher couldn’t sense the hum of electricity tripping under my skin. “You can feel that?”
His mouth quirked in a wry smile. “Always. At first, only when we touched, but now it’s all the time. It seems to be getting stronger the longer you’re around Protectors. Gabe even noticed it when you met the first time.”
Glancing around the room, I noticed that all three Blackwells looked slightly off balance as if they had migraines. My
humming
hurt them, I realized. It was the reason Asher always felt pain when near me. With my guard lowered and surrounded by Protectors, my body went on high alert, and it wasn’t something I could shut off. I raised my barricade, and a moment later, their expressions eased.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Lottie frowned. “Do we really need to do this? She’s Asher’s problem. I don’t understand why I have to be here.”
Asher started to say something, but Gabe spoke up first. “We’ve talked about this, Lottie. This affects us all. If the Healers are changing, we need to know how.”

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