Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Angel Fire

L. A. Weatherly

Page 105

 

  God, what a sap he was – when she was with Seb right this second. He closed his eyes against the sharp twist of pain.

  “Hey,” whispered a soft voice. The cushion sank down as someone sat beside him.

  His eyes flew open. Kara was there, clad in the shorts and T-shirt she wore to bed. “I came down to the kitchen and saw the light on,” she explained, tucking her long legs up under her. “You okay?”

  “Fine. ” He stayed slumped where he was, not bothering to straighten up. Distantly, he was aware that the house felt cool now, the air prickling at his bare chest. “Couldn’t be better. ”

  Kara was silent for a long moment. Without make-up, the dramatic lines of her face looked softer, more vulnerable. “I know how you feel,” she said finally. “I really do, Alex. I never told you, but do you remember David?”

  At first Alex didn’t. The camp in New Mexico had been home to hundreds of potential AKs over the years. A lot of them didn’t have what it took and ended up being escorted out again – without ever having known exactly where the camp was, in case they later got angel burn and tried to confess everything. Then he vaguely remembered a good-looking guy with broad shoulders and red hair, like a Viking.

  “Wasn’t he a college football player, or something?” he asked.

  “That’s the one,” said Kara with a humourless smile. “Mr. All-American. Anyway, we sort of had a thing going for a while. And what can I say? I fell in love with him – totally, completely in love with him. I thought he felt the same way, but. . . ”

  Alex didn’t say anything – memories were starting to come back. David had ended up leaving the camp unexpectedly with a married AK named Susie; gossip had buzzed around the camp for days afterwards. “Did you know about Susie?” he asked after a pause.

  Kara shook her head. “Nope. Didn’t have a clue. I found out later that she hadn’t even been the only one. I felt like such a. . . ” Her voice faded, then she cleared her throat. “And you know what? The stupid thing is that part of me still loves him. I mean, I’d spit in his face if I saw him again, but I still love him. Almost as much as I hate him. ”

  “Yeah,” murmured Alex. That summed it up, pretty much. He’d die for Willow, even now, but he’d meant it when he said he never wanted to see her again.

  Kara was sitting sideways on the sofa, her legs still curled under her. “Jake was so great, you know, after all that,” she said. “He let me cry on his shoulder so many times. That was when I started to think that maybe someday. . . ” She looked down. “Your brother was a really good guy,” she said finally. “I miss him. ”

  “I know,” said Alex. “I miss him too. ” He wondered what Jake would have said about Willow. After he’d finished kicking Alex’s ass for being involved with a half-angel in the first place, he had a feeling Jake would have taken him out to get drunk a few times. And brought lots of pretty girls over to their table, as if Willow could be replaced by anyone with two X chromosomes.

  He became aware of the stillness of the house. He turned his head and looked at Kara. She was sitting very close, her brown eyes fixed on his; he could smell the gentle scent of body lotion.

  She hesitated – and then in slow motion, she reached out and stroked her hand up his bare arm. When she came to his tattoo, she explored it as if she’d never seen it before, tracing its letters. The heat from her fingers was like little suns. “Remember the Christmas party that time?” she asked.

  He knew immediately the party she meant – it had been just a few months after Kara had first come to the camp. She’d worn a Santa hat and carried around a sprig of mistletoe, giving everyone quick, laughing kisses. Including him – his first kiss ever. The other AKs had thought it was hilarious; he’d just wanted to grab the mistletoe from her and do it again.

  Kara still had her hand on his arm, trailing her fingers back and forth. “Yeah, I remember. ” His voice was rough.

  “Al, listen,” she said quietly. “I know you’re still in love with her. But you and I really care about each other, and in a few days we could both be dead. Maybe we could just. . . keep each other warm, for a little while. ”

  Pain and longing mixed within him, so that all at once his heart was beating fast. He’d wondered ever since he was fourteen what it would be like with Kara. So why not, when the girl he loved was lying in someone else’s arms right now? Why the hell not?

  But for some reason the words Yes, great idea wouldn’t come.

  The room grew heavy with tension, like the air before a storm. Looking down at her hand, Kara slowly glided it across Alex’s chest, inch by inch. It dipped up and down over his muscles, making him shiver. Finally her palm came to his other shoulder and stopped. For a long moment her eyes searched his. . . and then she leaned over and kissed him.

  Alex sat very still. Her lips were so soft, so gentle, and this was Kara, Kara – who he used to lie awake at nights thinking about. He was enjoying this, he told himself – a gorgeous girl who he’d had a crush on for years was kissing him; of course he was enjoying it.

  The image came from nowhere: Willow, sitting at the picnic table in Chihuahua. The smoothness of her neck under his palm as he kissed her; her laughter as she complained that his lips were too spicy.

  He pulled away almost harshly. Kara sat back in surprise, her eyes wide.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. His throat was so tight he could hardly speak. “I can’t. I just can’t. ”

  Lying in bed later, Alex stared unseeingly into the darkness and wondered what exactly was wrong with him, that he couldn’t even bring himself to kiss someone else. As if he thought he’d be cheating on Willow or something, when she’d dumped him as thoroughly as it was possible to be dumped. When according to her, she’d been using him for weeks, just to get to Seb.

  He couldn’t believe it. He still just couldn’t believe it.

  Wake up, it happened, Alex told himself harshly. Anyway, to hell with this. He had a team to take care of. He had to be there for them these next few days; that was the only thing that mattered. Thinking of the upcoming attack, Alex was aware of the same dread Willow had sensed in him on that long-ago night in New Mexico. But everyone was going to be okay, he’d make sure of it. He could die; that was fine – but not his team. He’d do everything in his power to keep them safe.

  And if he still had a life once this was over with, then he’d get on with it and forget about Willow.

  He had a sudden flash of her lying beside him, so vivid he could almost smell her shampoo; feel the silky warmth of her skin. The memory gouged through him. Yeah, sure, he’d forget all about her. Nothing to it. Who was he kidding? The only way he’d ever get Willow out of his mind would be to have a brain transplant – and even then, he had a feeling she’d still be twined around his heart and soul for good.

  RAZIEL COULD SEE THE TORRE Mayor from his hotel window: a curved green tower that caught the sun’s rays like a promise. There was a minibar in the room; he poured himself a glass of cognac while he gazed out at the view, swirling the golden liquid in a cut-crystal glass. Angels couldn’t get drunk, of course, but the taste of anything so vintage and expensive was pleasant. He took a slow, savouring sip, his eyes narrowing at the tower as he remembered how the Council had threatened him in his own cathedral; the slurs they’d been casting on his leadership ever since they’d arrived.