What the Heart Takes (22 page)

Despite his insistent need to avoid eye contact, she noted the irritability in his voice, as well as the way it made her face prickle with heat. His desperation to avoid her grew easier to sense and harder to ignore. If it didn’t hurt so much, maybe she could overlook it.

At least Delia helped deter her thoughts, yet her words didn’t provide any comfort. “She won’t be safe until the ones who wish her harm are drawn back to the path of light or they’re killed.”

“You keep saying they,” Dylan said, stealing a glance at his mother. “Do you think someone besides dad is involved?”

“Yes, I do. The high-ranked members of The Fallen may have gangs underneath them, doing most of their dirty work, but they conspire in pairs. I guarantee there is someone working with him. I just don’t know who it could be.”

“Great,” Layne grumbled, jerking himself into an upright position. He stepped away from the counter, making his way toward the dining room. The pulse of his energy mixed with panic and desperation.

“Layne?” Delia called to him. “What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

He continued grumbling under his breath, never really giving her an answer, but the thoughts tormenting his soul came out in a complaint. He hadn’t intended anyone to hear, though Heaven was able to discern a few words, a few disturbing words.

“We’re so fucking screwed.”

* * *

Layne paced the wooden planks of the back deck as a woodpecker knocked in the distance. The rustic scenery behind the cottage did little to divert his thoughts. He came to a stop near the steps, remembering how he’d stood in the same spot yesterday, avoiding Heaven’s watchful eyes.

He peered over his shoulder, gazing over at the edge of the patio table. It was there that Heaven cut him off, preventing his retreat into the house. She should have left him alone. Then he wouldn’t have kissed her. Again.

Damn it.

Why did he let her do this to him? Why couldn’t he control himself whenever she was near? If Dylan found out what he did…

“Stop it,” he growled.

He needed to get a grip, needed to figure out how he was going to get his shit together and control his abilities. He’d be protecting the most powerful Seeker, after all.

What in the hell? How could God want him to protect such a gift? Heaven needed someone dependable and loyal, someone good in his heart and soul. She needed someone like Dylan to be her Keeper. He would have succeeded with the role, just like he did at being her
perfect
soulmate.

While it would have saved him the frustration that being her Keeper caused, the thought of not being in her life overwhelmed him. His chest grew tighter, forcing his lungs to work harder. If she knew how much the thought scared him… Who was he kidding? She probably already knew.

The fire in his soul began to peak as he thought about the kiss again, how it turned the fire into an inferno the moment their lips touched. He willed another flame to form within his palm, like the one that formed between his and Heaven’s.

Nothing happened.

He inhaled a deep breath, remembering the minty scent of hers. His mouth watered at the thought of tasting her tongue. It coupled with the itch in his hands, the itch he had to touch her soft skin.

A bead of sweat formed at his brow. The beat of his heart thumped with so much force he felt his pulse in his hand, as well as a blazing tickle. Any second, a flame would form. It would dance about in his hand, mimicking the one inside his soul.

He closed his eyes, allowing his Seeker to consume his thoughts. She did, easily. The sound of her laughter, the warmth of her smile, the constant tug of her soul on his…every thought engulfed him, just like the flame.

His hand burned with so much intensity, he swore he’d touched a hot poker. He opened his eyes and stared at his palm, amazed to see the flame imprint, matching Heaven’s, glowed cherry red.

A tendril of fire shot up a few inches. It wavered in the wind each second he continued to stare, giving him a sense of satisfaction. He’d drawn forth a flame without the aid of another flame, like the torches at the beach house in Jamaica. There was also the candle that aided him in setting the curtains on fire not long after he’d arrived.

The current results didn’t last long. As the confrontation with Dylan replayed in his mind, the flame flickered out. Even the mark returned to its normal, faint brown.

Just like all the times in Jamaica, when he felt he was getting somewhere with his abilities, Dylan managed to hinder his progress.

“Layne?”

His muscles tensed at the sound of Delia’s voice. He knew the solitude wouldn’t last. Someone always came looking for him. Thankfully, it wasn’t Heaven this time. He couldn’t imagine facing her right now. Not that he wanted to hold a conversation with Dylan’s mother either, but she wasn’t giving him a choice. He hoped she hadn’t seen the flame in his hand or how quickly he lost control of it.

“What can I help you with, Delia?” He didn’t fully turn to meet her eyes. If she’d come to check on him, he’d do what he could to relieve her worries and send her on her way. The sooner he could go to his room, the sooner he could lock the door and avoid his friends when they returned.

Clicking continued across the deck as Delia drew closer. She didn’t stop until she was standing beside him, clearing her throat to gain his attention. He caved and gave her what she wanted.

“What’s the problem, Layne?”

“What makes you think there’s a problem?”

“Oh, I wonder,” she scoffed, eyeing him from head to toe. “Your exit was abrupt, but not as much as it was weird. What is going on with you?”

It was a day of uncomfortable conversations. Hell, in reality, the last few days were filled with them. Why not add one more to the list? “All that stuff you were saying about the Supremes and Heaven being powerful… Delia, I can’t even get my abilities under control. How am I supposed to protect her?”

“You’ve already protected her. You killed Marco.”

“That was one person, and I don’t even remember how it happened. From everything I’m gathering, I’m looking to face off with many people, possibly at once. Your ex-husband could be one of them.”

While he wouldn’t mind bashing in Nate’s face, he knew it wouldn’t be an easy battle. Nate was powerful and dark. Until Layne could control his abilities, he wouldn’t stand a chance against the man who wanted his Seeker dead.

“Why can’t The Regency take care of this? If they’re our authority, can’t they do something?”

She gripped the rail in front of them and gazed into the woods. “The Regency tends to stay as neutral as possible in affairs of soulmates, regardless of what path they follow. There is minimal criminal authority, though there is a confinement camp for certain criminal acts, such as murder. Unless Nate is caught trying to kill Heaven himself, they will not touch him until he succeeds.”

“He’ll succeed over my dead body.”

He didn’t realize he’d dug his nails into the rail until he noticed her staring at his hands. There was no way to control the anger he felt over the thought of someone hurting Heaven, but at the same time, he was hurting her by keeping his distance.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he took a step back, refocusing on the conversation. Thinking about her would drive him crazy. He could put his time to better use, like finding out more about Psi history.

“If The Regency isn’t here for justice, then what’s their purpose?”

“They govern soulmates, clean up our messes from the
regular
world, and protect our recorded history. All births, deaths, abilities, and events are recorded. The information they govern is collected and reproduced into books, like the one we have inside the house. They’re known as the Tome of Souls.”

“Is this something you buy at a Psychics-R-Us or…?”

He hadn’t meant to make her laugh, but she did. “No, but I love the idea of such a store. The book we have was given to us by someone who was once a part of the Regency. He left because he could not remain neutral to The Fallen. He gave the book to me when he found out that Nate’s son would marry the most powerful Seeker.”

As if this conversation wasn’t stressful enough, she had to remind him of why he’d left the main house—because of his doubts. “I can’t do this, Delia. I can’t protect her, not the way she needs to be. Dylan—”

“Listen to me.” Urgency rang in her voice as she turned to grab his arm. She applied some pressure until he looked at her. “I know there is a lot of tension between you and him, but you can’t worry about it. Heaven is your focus. She needs you to focus.”

Didn’t she understand it wasn’t that easy? Of course not. No one did because no one knew how he felt about any of this. No one really knew how he felt about Heaven, though Dylan was suspicious.

“I don’t want to lose my friend, Delia.”

“This is beyond childhood friendships, sweetheart. This is about life and death, for Heaven, for her child.”

“I realize that,” he growled, jerking his arm away. “I know how much is at stake, but what if I’m the misery that’s going to tear them apart? God knows I make Dylan miserable when I’m around.”

“You don’t make him miserable. He’s just…” She wrung her hands together as she struggled for a word, but the right one didn’t come. Finally giving up, she rolled her eyes and huffed. “We may be superhuman, but we’re still human. Dylan is like any man. Territorial. He will protect what he loves.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Delia. I’ve lived with them for the last five months.” He turned from the rail and moved his foot down one of the steps. The maple tree came into view as he planted his butt on the deck, trying to get enough distance from her and the conversation. Every thought in his mind grew into a jumbled mess.

“No one ever said being a Keeper would be easy. The pull you feel can be overwhelming.”

He laughed at her words. Overwhelming didn’t come close to describing how intense it was. Heaven was his only thought, his only care in the world. That type of devotion went beyond friendship. If anyone tried to say otherwise, he’d call the person a liar.

When he met her eyes over his shoulder, something within them said she knew the thoughts going through his mind. “As much as you want to believe that what you’re feeling is wrong, you have to know that Heaven belongs to you too.”

“Excuse me?” He couldn’t have heard her right. Even if he had, what she said made no sense.

“She is your ward, Layne. You were born to keep her safe, and that right belongs to you. But the bond between a Keeper and Seeker is much more than that.” She moved around to his side, descending the wooden steps until she sat beside him. “Heaven will be your world. The raw emotion she evokes in you is what will fuel your purpose. She needs you to be her Keeper, but she needs more from your relationship, as do you.”

“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but I—”

“You want to know how to gain control of your abilities? Quit worrying about what everyone thinks, including Dylan. Work on your relationship with Heaven. Focus on that raw emotion and let it build.”

He already had, yesterday, when he’d formed a flame between their hands. It was the raw emotion that made it possible, the raw emotion that overtook him the second he brushed his lips against hers.

“It sounds like you and her have been talking behind my back.”

Dark green eyes danced over his face as she knitted her brows. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Tapping his fingers against the deck, he weighed his words before he spoke them. “She keeps insisting that we get closer, that it will help us get in sync.”

Delia didn’t seem surprised by his answer. If anything, relief softened her face. “I assure you, she and I haven’t discussed any of this, but she
is
right. You need to deepen the bond between you and her.”

“How?”

“Confide in her. Let her confide in you.” Her eyes dropped to his hands. She waited until his fingers stilled against the board before she continued. “She’s meant to be your best friend, Layne. Be
her
best friend too. The closer you get, the easier your abilities will come and the more powerful they’ll be.”

“God,” he grumbled, placing his face in his hands. “I don’t know how to deal with any of this. It’s more than I wanted or needed. It’s more than I can take.”

“You can’t run away from fate, Layne. If you try, you’ll lose everything, just like Nate did.”

“I’m afraid I’m going to turn into Nate.” Rubbing his face in a circle, he finally pulled his hands down to his lips. He blew out a breath of fear and prepared to tell her the rest. “I care about her, Delia. A lot. More than I should.”

“The things we care about most are the things we’re willing to sacrifice ourselves for. You’re supposed to care about Heaven, to be impassioned with her and her safety. Your greatest happiness will revolve around her.”

It was nice to know that at least one of them would be happy, though he never doubted it would be Heaven. She had her soulmate. The love they shared would increase once the baby was born. Was he really fated to watch their happiness from the outside? Was he fated to be alone for the rest of his life?

“I thought you said that unfortunate pairs can move on and find happiness elsewhere.”

“Yes,” she nodded, focusing her attention on the trees spread out before them. “They can leave to find happiness. Many of them do, but I didn’t say you were a part of an unfortunate pair.”

How could he not be if Faith was part of the pair? Their relationship had affected Heaven and Dylan on more than one occasion, more so after it ended. If the unfortunates were meant to cause chaos for the fortunate, hadn’t they already begun that process? “You seriously don’t think I am after what happened with Faith?”

“No. Everything in my gut says you aren’t.”

Her and her damn gut instincts. He couldn’t deny they were good, but he questioned how accurate they were about this.

The question hung on his lips, where it would remain for another time. He didn’t want to talk anymore. They’d wasted enough time on this subject with no resolution in sight. There was no need to keep rehashing it. Heaven and Dylan would be back soon. He needed to escape to his room. He needed to be left alone.