House of Slide: Wilds, Part I Read online

  I smiled at him as I slid my hand around Matthew beneath his jacket. “No? How awkward then, that I came here with him as my date. So nice to meet all of you,” I said as I stepped past them Matthew in step with me.

  “Hunters,” Matthew said with a sneer in his voice.

  “You have a very unsavory reputation,” I said, tightening my hold on his waist as we passed through crowds of girls who scowled at me and reached out to touch Matthew like he was a celebrity.

  “And you have none,” he said in a low voice before turning and grabbing a girl’s hand which was aimed at his chest. The girl froze up and fell over, forcing us to step over her prone body.

  “It is you,” I hissed, glaring at him. “You make me dizzy and faint.”

  He smiled down at me, his hand brushing my cheek for a moment. I felt a tingling thrill at his touch that sent goose bumps over my skin. “That’s paralysis, not fainting.”

  “That’s your Wild skill? You can manipulate nerves?”

  I instinctively pulled away from him, but he only smirked me and let me go.

  “I can. I could make you feel things you’ve never dreamed of. Usually that’s one of the things women find appealing about me.”

  “Unless you paralyze them.”

  He shrugged. “I tend to enjoy my personal space.” He continued walking into the shadows beneath the tree, away from the lights and noise while I followed at a distance. The magic of the dance was fading away, leaving me with a relentless ache in my chest as I thought of my brother abandoning his family for that circle of Hunters none of which seemed particularly hygienic or civilized. I didn’t understand.

  “Matthew,” I said, stretching my legs to catch up to him and slipping my arm in his. “Do you understand?”

  He glanced at me and frowned. “Why I’d prefer to be alone when I have so many women throwing themselves at me, offering to buy my services?”

  I gave him a pointed look. “No. Why my brother abandoned the House for a girl.”

  “Ah,” he nodded and walked slower. “Your brother is a romantic.”

  “There’s something romantic about blowing up demons?”

  He smiled slightly. “Sacrificing everything for love is romantic. I believe that’s the way he sees it, his grand sacrifice for his love, Cami.”

  I shook my head. That wasn’t the Wild way. We had obsessions, not romantic notions. The very idea made me question my brother’s sanity.

  “Maybe he’s obsessed with her,” I said in a quiet voice.

  Matthew slowed down, taking my hand in his. “She’s like a ticking time bomb that could explode at any time. That’s right up Satan’s alley.”

  “Why do you call him Satan? His name is Saturn. For a nickname it isn’t even any shorter than his given name.”

  He laughed a slow languid laugh as he turned towards me, looking down through heavy lidded eyes. “He’s the very devil in a fight. Seeing you smash a bottle over his head was the most pleasant thing I’ve seen in a very long time. At first there were whispers that you were another lover he’d scorned, but he muttered to someone that you were his sister, I think to keep Cami’s brother, Jayden, from smashing his face in. Cami was very clear about not wanting a bloodbath at her wedding.”

  “And everyone does what she says?”

  Matthew shrugged. “Married to your brother and with her brother, Jayden to back her up, the only ones she has to worry about are those two. That’s enough since there’s enough bad blood between them to drown a continent.”

  I imagined my enormous, bald and smoldering big brother fighting the hulking jade-eyed bloodworker. “It would certainly spoil the wedding.” I smiled slowly as I glanced up at Matthew. “I wonder if Jayden’s still here. I have this uncontrollable urge to take his temperature.”

  The dark haired musician shook his head, looking at me with amusement in his slate eyes. “If you’re trying to stir up trouble, you’ll have to make do with other Hunters. Jayden took off while you and Satan caught up.” His accent had changed, shifting from a drawl to crisper consonants.

  “Where are you from?” I asked.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

  “Your accent changed. Do you pretend to be a Southern gentleman to attract women, or is it the British that they find compelling?”

  He laughed, a low growling sound that sent shivers chasing down my spine. “On the contrary. I was raised in two countries. Music brings out the Southern, Hunting brings out the other. As for women, it’s not my accent that they notice.”

  “No? It must be your meticulous grooming,” I said, sliding a hand up his prickly cheek. “Or maybe your naked feet. It’s terribly sensual, all those toes and toenails. I have this incredible urge to paint them all dark blue to match my eyes.” With every ridiculous word we moved closer together until his chest brushed mine.

  “Only if I get to paint yours,” he murmured, turning his head to take my hand in his mouth, biting down on the skin slightly sending a shocking awareness of him through me.

  I gasped and pulled away, cradling my hand while I stared at him, aware of how very dangerous he could be. I kept the Code. Meticulously. I did not engage in any sort of untoward behavior towards the opposite sex. This flirtation had to end before I made a mistake as irreversible as the metal runes twining down my arms.

  “Did you do that with your abilities?”

  He raised an eyebrow and leaned away from me. “What?”

  I frowned at him. “You know what.”

  “Yes. I do. But only because I’m leaning you and can feel every particle of desire you have towards me. It’s a perk of being Cool. That’s why I knew when to duck. I could feel your brother’s protective anger before it exploded into action.”

  I stared at him, struggling with the humiliation of being so clearly transparent when I’d been trained my whole life to contain my feelings. I shrugged and brushed my fingers through his hair, reveling in the silkiness. “It’s as I thought. I need to be exposed to more human contact so that I’m not overwhelmed and confused when natural desires arise.”

  He smiled. “If that’s an invitation, I admit that you have a certain appeal.”

  I smiled back at him as he wrapped his hands around my waist. “Think how furious Satan will be. He’ll probably kill you.”

  He paused for a moment before he shook his head slightly and leaned down, his breath brushing my cheek. “Oh, the vain promises women make,” he murmured before he slid his hand up my back, bare palm between my shoulders at the base of my neck while his lips lowered to mine.

  The feel of his lips, soft and gentle, melted away the shock as I gripped his collar, hanging onto him while I kissed him back. The pressure of his lips intensified filling me with a dizzying thrill until with a sudden lurch, the world disappeared and I felt lost instead, clinging to reality with that thin thread between us—such a tentative tie. I slid a hand up to hold his head, pressing my lips against his, tasting lemons and rosemary on his tongue. Desire more intense than anything I’d ever imagined flowed through me leaving me weak and trembling as I craved more of the taste, the feel, the soul of him. I needed him. More until there wasn’t anything left of him for anyone else. That slender thread grew into a rope of electricity as the world around us caught on fire and imploded as the crack of thunder swelled around us.

  I pulled away from him, desperately channeling the blue lines of lightning into the earth, forcing down the rippling wind and sky as it crackled above me. After a few minutes of intense near life and death swirling around us, which Matthew endured with barely a flicker of alarm in his eyes, we were left in the darkness more complete in contrast from the recent light show.

  “Well, that was certainly the most electric kiss I’ve ever had,” he said with a flicker of a smile as he took my arm and led me towards the back fence while I breathed hard.

  “I clearly need more experience,” I said breathlessly.

  “I’d be happy to oblige you,” he said, glanci
ng at me with his heavy-lidded eyes.

  “You’re not repulsed by electrocution?”

  He opened the back gate and gestured me through before closing it behind us. “Quite the contrary, I assure you. I believe we’d be fused together, a blackened sculpture that centuries of lovers would stop and kiss beneath in reverence to a passion so great.” He spoke solemnly, his hand on his heart.

  I sighed. “Satan’s not the romantic. You are. No wonder you think that he would betray his House for love. That’s what you would do.”

  He looked at me, steadily until I felt uneasy beneath the weight of his stare. “If only I had a House to betray,” he said and turned away, heading towards a motorbike with a pack on the back. He fumbled in the dark until he turned on the headlight. “Would you like some tea?” The light reflected off a pale wall giving him enough visibility to rummage through the pack. He handed me my jacket and shoes which I frowned at. I didn’t want to put my heels back on.

  “Tea?”

  “I’m half Wild, half Cool. Unfortunately that means I’m always cold. I keep a thermos close at all times.” He smiled at me as he held up the silver container he’d pulled from the pack then opened it while he leaned against the seat of the bike.

  “Is it lemon and rosemary?”

  He gave me a quizzical glance. “What rare ability is this? I have to say, it’s extremely exciting.”

  I laughed. “That’s what you tasted like, lemon and rosemary. I think for the first man I’ve kissed in years, I’ve had surprising good luck in flavors.”

  “You like the way I taste?”

  “It’s preferable to cigarettes and beer, or sardines and cantaloupe.”

  “You dislike cantaloupe? I’ll have to make a note of it. Tell me, Helen, how far do you intend to allow this flirtation to progress?”

  I blinked at him, at his long lean body where he lounged in a sultry and seductive pose. “Do you always ask women that?”

  “I don’t have to. I can read their intent. Yours is all over the place. You want to infuriate your brother. That much is completely understandable, and believe me, I would love to help, but the other ache, the desire to be loved, adored and desperately needed could be a problem.”

  I opened my mouth and closed it. I snatched the thermos out of his hand and drank, burning my tongue, but enjoying the burn. I drank the sweet and delicious elixir, the flavor bringing back the unforgettable kiss.

  I closed the lid slowly until I could look up at Matthew. “My parents loved each other. He didn’t marry her for love. He never looked at her until my grandmother foretold that she would give him eight children, if left unruned of course. No runed woman could conceive and bear that many times. He couldn’t help falling for her. They adored each other. She loved us all so much. Most Wilds hold it back, feelings that are raw and real, but she never did. She cried whenever any of us broke a bone. She yelled any time any of us did something stupid and dangerous and then she’d crush us with these hugs that were impossible to breathe through. She loved us so fiercely that nothing could ever make us doubt that. When she died everything fell apart. That’s love. It makes the world unbearable when you lose it. Yes, Matthew, I desire love, that uncontrollable passion and desire that swallows all pain, despair and misery. But I’m not my mother. I don’t feel like that. Maybe it’s my runes. Maybe it’s who I am. I might electrocute you, but I won’t love you.”

  We looked at each other in the dim light while a cold breeze gave me goosebumps before he stepped up and cupped my face in his hands.

  “I saw you dance. No one can dance like that without a heart designed to be adored.” He smiled slightly before he brushed my cheek with his lips and pulled away. “Besides which, I heard a story about a girl who crashed a ball, declared her love for the Son of a Red House for the world to see. I am not the only romantic here.”

  I stared at him while the world around began to spin, faster and faster. I remembered flickers of images, a ball with warm lights and music from an orchestra rose and swelled in the background, while a face, the male version of Camilla, gold, beautiful Jarvais glanced at me with cold eyes and a dismissive smile.

  I gasped and fell to the ground, gripped in uncontrollable tremors that had me striking my fists against the pavement. The pain in my head made me scream when I never screamed. I forced it back into a whimper while my brain, my body revolted against me.

  It took a long time to feel Matthew’s hand on my shoulder, hear the words he murmured soft and low. They didn’t make sense until I realized that he was speaking Cantonese. I sobbed, shuddered then finally raised my face to Matthew’s.

  He winced and brushed my cheek with his hand. “That must sting.”

  I shook my head, feeling numb in the middle, but around the edges it hurt. Everything inside and outside hurt. What pain was this? How could I survive it?

  “I must have a brain tumor,” I whispered.

  Matthew shook his head, smiling. “With runes like yours? Doubtful. They’re beautiful, by the way. No, I’d say you have a different kind of problem. I think you’re running up against blocks someone put on your mind. I may be able to help, but first, you need to rest.” He left me, going to his bike and rummaging in the pack until he knelt down beside me holding a key in his hand.

  “What’s this?” I whispered taking the key and almost dropping it in my still trembling fingers.

  “My room. Second floor. Third door on the left. I have somewhere else to be tonight. Hunting duties are nocturnal. I’m actually late. Helen,” he said, leaning forward until our foreheads touched while he put a palm against my face. “Go to my room. Lock the door. Sleep and dream of happy things until you need to rest no more.”

  I stared into those eyes, neither gray, green or blue and nodded. “All right.”

  We stood together, his hands on my arms like he was afraid that I’d fall, then he walked me to the back gate and watched as I crossed the grass, towards the party and the people who didn’t seem to notice me as I stumbled through them. Second floor. Third door on the left. A brass doorknob turned in my hand and then sleep.

  Chapter 5

  Matthew

  Satan asked me to be his best man. He asked me in that solemn voice of his that he used when he wanted to look more serious than usual. I took my job as seriously as he wanted me to, determined to make sure that everything went smoothly at the wedding party after the quiet ceremony downtown. My duties included hiring a band and making certain no one spilled blood. Dozens of Hotbloods mixing with Wilds, Hunters, Hybrids, and all I had to do was make certain that none of them felt like killing someone.

  How ironic that Satan broke the peace throwing glasses of whisky at my head. I couldn’t blame him. I also had no intention of allowing Helen to collapse in the arms of anyone else.

  Satan had assured me that none of his family would be present. He didn’t mention his sister, but the way he glowered at me, chomping on his cigar while Cami looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a hand on his arm, was better than words. I hadn’t kept my interest a secret. His sister had gone to school with my sister, Camilla. The stories Camilla told about her best friend, Helen had amused me when so few things penetrated the numbness.

  I shouldn’t have kissed her. I never should have played the song that she’d danced to. Her song. And yet, I couldn’t help smiling.

  “Where were you?” Jarvais demanded, his voice outraged from the shadow along the drive where he held a gun, standing over a dead body.

  “A wedding,” I replied, irritated. “I mentioned it. You could have played your little game a different night.”

  He took one step towards me, shoulder length blond hair flipping from his jerky motion. “Little game? Now is the time to strike, before the title of Head of House can transfer to the little brat. The old woman’s breathed her last. I’ve been waiting for you for hours.”

  I shrugged and stepped past him, reading his intentions with the brush of our shoulders. The sooner we got this finished
, the sooner I could return to the house where Helen slept in my bed. I closed my eyes for a moment, recalling the scent of her skin and the taste of her mouth, like violets and lightning.

  “Let’s dance.”

  Harding House loomed ahead, surrounding iron fence barely a deterrent. The monstrous Georgian manor would be simple enough to conquer, as long as everything went entirely according to plan. Jarvais had spent months planning, obsessing about how to remove Harding from the picture, a white House that he felt looked down on all the murderous Reds around it. If there was one thing Jarvais disliked, it was feeling looked down on. It was one reason he disliked me as well as he did. Not only was I clearly superior to him at killing people, one of his favorite things, my father, our father Head of Carve looked at me as his firstborn. The scars up and down my spine could attest to that.

  I took a deep breath and prepared for death, slaughter, mayhem, the ordinary things one experienced around my brother.

  “Hey there,” a woman’s warm voice said, coating my skin with an icky layer of her desire. I did not want to lean Bliss. The woman had no sense of decorum. She should be married and leave all the vulnerable assassins like myself alone.

  “Bliss.”

  She put her hand on my arm, sending me an image of our attack which she coated in that same sticky desire. Her brown hair, brown eyes were all very appealing if you liked that sort of thing. I did not. I’d never given her any encouraging signals.

  I stepped away from her. “Forward left.”

  “Rear right,” she said with the leer in her voice. Comparing her to Helen wasn’t fair. Helen was perfection, innocence, beauty, grace, passion, whimsy, everything that spoke to my heart, everything Bliss wasn’t with her calculated appetite. She would suit Jarvais. They’d consume each other leaving the world vastly improved in their absence.

  Death sprang from my hands, a knife of Nether, a touch of death and a thought of shadows. They didn’t see me coming. I pushed myself further than usual, intent to destroy quickly and thoroughly. After the frontal assault where we led the members of our Houses against those members of Harding, Bliss and I separated as I ran up the wide marble steps three at a time heading towards the soul that I could sense in a corner opposite of the action, where Bliss was a screaming ugly violence.