House of Slide: Wilds, Part I Page 13

  I couldn’t help but notice the others who were gathering around us, Hotbloods who looked angry, eager, furious, or simply ready for a fight.

  “If you were a real man…” Jayden began, clenching his teeth and flexing his enormous neck, corded and bulging.

  I put a hand on his arm, then froze when someone else stepped beside him, brushing arms as he handed Jayden a drink.

  Jayden released the other Hotblood’s throat in order to claim the drink and threw it back, giving the other guy the chance to leave. One look at Matthew where he glowered beside Jayden was all it took for the golden-eyed guy to disappear.

  Matthew grabbed a chair from an adjoining table then sank down in it, backwards, leaning against the back heavily, still exhausted in spite of spending so much time sleeping, recuperating from his poisoning and being drained by his own brother.

  I slowly sat down, looking between Jayden and Matthew, alert until everyone else had returned to their seats, pretending to focus on the band and the dancing instead of our small, very exciting table.

  “You asked me,” Jayden said as he gestured at the waitress for another drink. “But he’s right here. Ask him.”

  “What?” Matthew said, frowning at Jayden, then at me.

  “Your eyes are the same as Camilla’s when you scowl,” I told him, then felt stupid. I had to focus. I took a large sip from my glass then frowned as my hands fiddled nervously.

  “Why does Jarvais take your blood?” Jayden asked him, sounding far from disinterested.

  Matthew shrugged. “He doesn’t inform me. For all I know, he’s raising an army of zombie dead with it.”

  “Could he do…” I began then trailed off as they both looked at me like I was an idiot. Well as far as bloodwork was concerned, I was an idiot.

  “As far as I know,” Matthew said, glaring at the table with a curl on his mouth like this was the most distasteful conversation he’d ever had, “He requires transfusions when he’s lost blood, after a battle for instance.”

  Jayden licked his lips. “If you’re donating, I know a lot of people who would pay a nice price for what you have in your veins.”

  I fought to keep my hands folded in my lap. I couldn’t show I cared however my heart twisted when I saw Matthew’s pale face.

  Matthew smiled grimly. “Thanks. If I ever get low on funds, I’ll be sure to call you for references. Helen,” he said, turning to me. “I have a car out front to take you back at Satan’s request.”

  “I’m here for business,” I said, pushing back my chair. “I want to meet Slide’s London man. If I can’t do that…”

  “He’s dead,” Matthew said, staring at the table.

  “He’s dead?” I asked. “How would you know?”

  “I killed him,” he said sounding tired. “Slide is, was allied with Harding. I believe he also had a personal interest in one of Harding’s underlings.”

  “You killed him.” My voice was flat. Stunned, I couldn’t do anything other than stare at the Hybrid. Satan was right. This tall, swarthy man with heavy lids and a sneer on his mouth was not a simple gardener or musician, but someone who would take life for no other reason than his House told him to. He paid the price every time he took a life, like the one of Slide’s contact. You could see it in his eyes, the way he kept a shield between himself and the world so that he didn’t care too much, didn’t feel too much. Otherwise, he would break.

  “It’s his job. You can’t take it personally,” Jayden broke in, frowning down at his hands. “I’m sure it was more mercy killing than anything else. Matthew had some interests in the Harding House.”

  I stood up. I wasn’t sure what to think or do. I knew he was a killer, the knife of Carve, the assassin like my brother, Grim, but knowing it was different than seeing it, feeling it. He didn’t belong in that position. He needed to be protected from the people who would use him so cruelly.

  “I’ve never known a Daughter with such a delicate stomach,” Jayden said, derisively. “I suppose it’s the White House in you. You want to pretend that when a head makes a decree, it happens without anyone’s hands getting dirty. I know Satan. I’ve seen blood on his hands that would curl your toes.”

  I swung around and slammed my fist against the table in front of him. “If you think it’s overwrought delicacy that has me leaving this club, you would be mistaken. I am far more interested in not wasting my time any more than I already have in this place. My brother is finished, my London man dead, what would you have me do under these circumstances? Drink? Dance? Kill something?”

  His eyes had begun to glow as he stared at me, the look on his face growing more intense, personal.

  “I’m not certain about White Houses,” Matthew drawled, his cool voice breaking in and making me shiver. “But most Wilds would seek direction from their Head about replacing their contacts then proceed to ally with whichever House had their common goals. Now that both remaining Houses are red, it’s difficult to say which Slide would prefer.”

  His calm assurance startled me. That he would suggest that I contact my father again didn’t make any sense. Matthew and I were… What were we? We’d shared some moments, but the enormity of the obstacles between us I hadn’t begun to clear.

  “You think that I should call my father?” I felt hurt as I looked at him, as though he’d already given up on any possibilities we might have.

  He raised an eyebrow. “It’s common procedure. You seem a bit disoriented.” His voice was softer, more gentle than I knew what to do with.

  I stiffened. “Where is the phone?” I asked Jayden, unable to interpret the meaning in Matthew’s eyes.

  I found myself in a grimy phone booth where I stared at the numbers, trying to organize what I would say to my father. I could have called someone else, one of my brothers, but they would all simply ask him for further direction. It was fine, but I didn’t want to call him again with such bad news. Had he really chosen parts of my memory to remove, like a surgeon cutting out the parts that would make me less ideal a member of the House?

  I gritted my teeth and dialed. He picked up on the first ring.

  “Helen.”

  “Slide. The former contact has been…” What word did you use for ‘killed by the man I’m considering leaving the House for,’? “Do you wish me to recruit the next London contact, or discuss alliances with Bliss or…”

  “Come home.”

  I inhaled sharply at the tone of that command, the underlying pleading.

  “I lost Saturn. I can’t lose you too.”

  They were the kinds of words I dreamed about him saying, but wondering if he’d put blocks on me, I didn’t feel as loved as I’d hoped they’d make me. I shook my head.

  “I’d like to be of some use while I’m here. I’m afraid that Saturn is irretrievable, but surely there’s something that I could do for the House.”

  After a long pause, a silence I could almost taste while my heart pounded, he said, “Bliss and Carve acted outside their precinct. Their behavior was utterly outside the Code when they slaughtered the only White House in the area. Slide will not be offering either Carve or Bliss an alliance. Their takeover was not respectable. No member of either remaining House can be trusted. I want you out of there. If you feel the need to travel, you can visit any of the Houses on the Continent allied to Slide, or White Houses, but the Red ones, the ones that are increasingly divergent from the Code cannot be.”

  “I see. There is the slight problem with the city being closed off for the moment.”

  Silence for a moment, then, “Have you made contact with members from either House?”

  I looked up, through the grease streaked window in the phone booth and for a moment met Matthew’s stare, the Hybrid, son of Carve.

  “Yes. I met Camilla, Daughter of Carve.”

  His intake of breath over the line was so slight, something so far away, but it made my chest tighten.

  I opened my mouth to continue, to tell him about Matthew, the Hybrid, to ins
ist that he find a place for Matthew, but I couldn’t seem to form the words.

  “Helen, if there is still some spark of feeling in your heart for…”

  “No.” I said, my voice rough and loud. I took a deep breath. “Jarvais was nothing but an illusion, but I cannot leave London while the two Houses are finishing their takeover.”

  “If necessary, I will send…”

  “I can handle it.” My voice came out cool and calm, as efficient as I was supposed to be. “If you’re certain that you don’t wish me to act on any House business while I’m in the area, that’s all I needed to know.”

  “Helen,” His voice came out gentle, but so intensely compelling that I could feel it in my bones, burned into them. “Be very careful.”

  “Of course. Good-bye.”

  I waited for his dismissal, and when it came, hung up the phone with a breath of relief. I leaned for a moment against the wall, catching my breath, like I’d been through a race. Had he put blocks on my mind? Was there another reason he didn’t want me to mingle with Carve other than the obvious danger? Was he worried about the blocks falling down, leaving me a helpless victim to my former obsession? I shook my head, as I straightened up, turning and seeing Matthew, his eyes still on me. He’d watched me, steadily, waiting for something, but what?

  I left the booth and stood, again dizzy while the loud music crashed against my awareness. How ridiculous to be an unknowing pawn of my own father. I bit my lip before I pushed down all my uneasiness and went to Matthew.

  “Come with me,” I said, ignoring Jayden.

  “You don’t want to…” Jayden began then got a confused look on his face, like he’d forgotten what he wanted to say.

  I didn’t wait to see if Matthew would follow as I turned and left, sliding between Hotbloods perched on benches and the small tables barely large enough for drinks. I’d had enough heat, enough laughter and music. I needed answers. I walked out the door, turning left and then another left at the alley that ran along the side of the building. Dark, but still throbbing with the music from the bar.

  I whirled around once I was halfway down the alley, shoving Matthew against the wall, pinning him with my hands fisted in his coat.

  “Tell me everything that you know about me.”

  He looked down, eyes glittering brightly in spite of the shadows that spilled across his face, darker beneath his eyes and cheekbones.

  “No.”

  I tightened my grip, pressing harder against the wall, but his mouth only twisted into a smirk.

  “Why not?”

  “As interesting as it is to be bullied by someone a foot shorter than myself, it’s not safe. This place, this world teeters on the brink of darkness. I know that you want to remember, but wait. I think that you should go home, where you’ll be protected,” he said in a low voice as he brushed my hair back, fingers lingering on my face.

  I shivered and leaned against him, pressing my cheek against his chest where I could hear his heart beat. “You’re the one that isn’t safe. I’ll leave when you come with me.”

  He sighed. “You know that I killed the House’s contact. You should not…”

  I shoved him harder against the waterstained bricks and pressed my mouth against his, cutting off his words.

  The feel of his lips, his mouth, softer than I’d possibly imagined, had me sliding my hands around his neck, tangling his hair with my fingers, silk and sweet while he tasted of herbs and lemon with a hint of rosemary. My head filled with the most incongruous images, the smell of earth, the feeling of falling while my chest throbbed as my heart raced, thumping beneath my rib cage, struggling to escape.

  I pulled away with a gasp, staring at him while the memories, the images made me dizzy, playing over and over again. I leaned against the wall with my eyes closed, wanting to flinch from the feeling of falling but also from the pain that welled up in my chest, pain and darkness that seemed to have no end.

  “This is not the place,” he said, sounding strained. “No stable Daughter would kiss a Hybrid in a back alley. If you want to silence someone, cut out his tongue. I’m afraid that if you stay here any longer…”

  I looked up at him, confused at the agony I could see in his eyes when he looked at me. I couldn’t stay in this crazy country with this unstable Hybrid. I had to go home. I had to go home. I had to go… I froze a dozen steps away from him, nearly to the entrance to the alley with my fists clenched barely recalling how I’d gotten there.

  “Stop leaning me.” It felt like a betrayal, but he only laughed harshly while the need to flee, to escape faded but didn’t entirely disappear.

  “I can’t make people feel something they don’t already feel, I simply amplified it. You do want to go home.” After a pause he continued. “You should, you know. Nothing good will come of it.”

  “Now you’re a foreteller?”

  He tried to smile, but I could see his exhaustion, the tension he dealt with, trying to do what he should when he wanted... What did he want?

  I walked towards him, slowly at first but more steady and certain with every step until I could touch his face, straighten the collar of his long jacket, and take his hands in mine. “I don’t care.”

  He frowned at me as I smoothed his hair back, brushing it with my fingers. “You don’t care? You lie. What did you tell your father? Did you say that you’ve decided to join Satan and marry a Hybrid Hunter and live in the woods on the flesh of demons and monsters?”

  “Was that a test? I’m not abandoning the House, and I’m not abandoning you.”

  He sneered down at me as he pulled my hands down, squeezing my fingers painfully. “Your pity is touching, however I assure you, I am not someone who needs rescuing.”

  I swallowed and tried to think past the battering of my beating heart. “I want you. I want my House. I don’t know why. I don’t understand anything other than that I am emotionally attached to someone that I cannot have. I know that our worlds do not touch much less overlap, and yet I cannot turn away from you. Pity? You think that pity would move me to irrational behavior? Good. Call it pity, then. I pity you so very much that I cannot do my duty, cannot leave. No. I pity myself, torn for no sensible reason. Letters? How could letters cause so much havoc with my heart? I don’t feel. I didn’t. Now I don’t care about behaving and doing and saying and thinking what I should. My actions may threaten those I love. I love my brothers. I love my father. I understand that. I do not understand you. Feelings consume me. I cannot hold them all inside or I will surely shatter. Matthew, what should I do? I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to stop feeling and go back to sleep. I’m afraid that I’ll never remember again, that I’ll lose this small taste of life, of joy. What is the sense of it? Why live a life of nothing?”

  “Helen,” he said smothering my sobs against his chest, smoothing my hair and whispering my name over and over again while I clung to him, needing his body, his soul, the soul I’d tasted in the letters, the soul that swept me away as lost as a leaf swirling in the wind.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, still holding onto him. “I’m not making any sense.”

  He leaned down and brushed my lips with his, soft, sweet while I let my eyelids drop down and his arms wrapped around me. I felt like a pearl, precious, protected by his shell. “Logic is an illusion,” he whispered before he kissed me again, so carefully I barely felt his breath before he pulled away. “How you tempt me. I know that the end of this path is pain, but I cannot deny myself the pleasure. I do not love you enough to force you away, to make you hate me.”

  “But you do love me a little?”

  He looked into my eyes, his beautiful, shifting slate eyes gazing glistening in the dim light of the alley. “I believe you’re angling for a confession of love. How do those go, let me see if I can remember. ‘I know we’ve only just met, but my life cannot go on without you. My heart beats for you and only you while my body aches to hold you against mine. I want to fill my days, my nights with your sweet pre
sence.’”

  I shook my head at him, placing my palms against his chest. “Very pretty if a bit cliché.”

  He raised an eyebrow as he brushed his fingers over my face. “I suppose you can do better?”

  “I thought I did.”

  He grinned at me, showing teeth before he leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. “Oh, no. That was a declaration of indecision.” He took my ear in his teeth, hard against soft, sharp against vulnerable before he pulled away.

  I laughed breathlessly. “I see. You must get a lot of these if you’re so particular about it. Let’s start with your head. Such a head. On top of your neck and everything, with eyes of slate that shift from blue to gray to green and back again with every thought. Your eyes are almost silver right before you kiss me. Your mouth soft, mobile, sensual, the mouth of a musician or a gigolo. Maybe both. Your taste is green and earth and silver while your hair is silk and black as a lost soul. Your smile, when it flickers from the depths of the earth spills across your face like moonbeams, gentle, mysterious, wary of giving too much away while your chin…”

  He glared at me, stepping back, but keeping his hands over mine. “That is not a declaration of love but a catalogue of exquisite beauty which only needs music to be complete. Of course setting music to my own unearthly graces may come across as slightly egocentric.”

  I sighed. “Fine. You win.”

  “Yes,” he said, pulling me against him while he gazed at me fierce in his expression. “I win your words and that, my love, is more than I ever dreamed I’d have on this bleak and hopeless occasion.”

  I leaned against him, relaxing, letting go of the confusion, if only for a moment. I didn’t understand but I still felt, and that feeling wouldn’t let me leave him, not while I had a choice.

  “I never got to finish cataloguing you,” I murmured as pulled away, smiling as I smoothed the line of his jaw.

  “There’s only so much a man can take, and you are sleeping in my bed,” he replied, gazing down at me, eyes fastening on my mouth.

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  “I hope not,” he responded as he reached out and brushed my bottom lip with his thumb.