Fade Read online

  “Hey,” I said, pulling one of the dark brown throw pillows up and hugging it to my chest.

  “Hey,” he murmured, and walked around the couch until he stood in front of me.

  “Did they get off safely?” I leaned my head back so I could look up at him. He truly was tall.

  “They’ll be okay until their parents get home. After that”—he shrugged—”who knows?”

  Indeed. “The entire thing sucks.” I scooted around until I could lay my head on the back of the couch and see him without straining my neck. “It doesn’t seem possible.”

  He looked at me, not saying anything.

  “Why her? Why now? It all … sucks,” I finished inadequately, unable to find a better word to explain the situation. “You can sit down, you know.” Having him staring down at me unnerved me. His stance didn’t intimidate me, but it did make me leery. In my experience, nothing good ever happened when it involved looming.

  “I shouldn’t,” he said even as he eased himself down beside me, close enough to touch but not touching. “I can’t stay long.”

  “Oh.” I’d suspected as much, but hoped for a different answer. I didn’t want him to leave. “Why not?”

  “I have some things to take care of.” He didn’t quite meet my gaze.

  “Things? That’s not evasive at all,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “What sort of things?”

  “Just … things.”

  “Do you think you could actually manage to give me an answer to at least one question tonight, or would that be too inconvenient for you?” I asked.

  He did look at me then, his eyes widening a little as if he were surprised at the sarcastic bite to my question. “What does that mean?”

  “Well, let’s see. You’ve barely said two words to me all day, you dodge all of my questions, you’ve shut me out of your head completely, and”—I ticked off each source of irritation on my fingers—”you’re now in a hurry to leave and won’t tell me why. What do you think it means?”

  “It’s not like that, Arionna. I haven’t had the best day.”

  I wanted to ask him if he thought I had but decided I’d be better off keeping my mouth shut. If I said it, I’d either start yelling or crying. I wasn’t sure which would be worse. “What things, Dace?” I asked instead, each word slow and clear.

  His expression was stony, implacable. He opened his mouth to say something, and then shook his head slightly. “Shifter things.”

  Obviously, he had no intentions of making this conversation easy.

  “And would these shifter things be the things that have you dodging my questions, or the ones that made you shut me out? Or both?”

  “I’m not …” he started to protest and then clamped his jaws closed. “Fine, I am.” He shook his head, his expression harder. “But not without reason. Everything changed today, Arionna.”

  I waited for him to explain that to me.

  He didn’t.

  I wanted to scream. “How?” I bit out, curling my arms more tightly around the pillow.

  “It’s too dangerous for you. I can’t think when I’m around you, and I need to think right now, before anyone else gets hurt.” He clenched his jaw.

  “I can’t think with you near either, but I’m not shutting you out because of it, Dace. Why is it too dangerous for me? What does that mean?” Men might not have been put on earth to drive women insane, but Dace most certainly had been created to drive me to violence. I had the childish urge to kick him.

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re as tenacious as one of those ankle biting terriers?” he demanded rather than answering, looking as frustrated as I felt.

  “An ankle biting terrier? Seriously, Dace?” I laughed aloud, the first in hours.

  “What?” He glowered.

  “That’s amusing,” I said, still chuckling.

  “Obviously.” He rolled his eyes. “Why?”

  I opened my mouth to tell him I’d never been compared to a yipping little dog in my entire life, and that most people would probably have found the comparison offensive. “Oh, never mind.” He wouldn’t get it even if I did explain. “Why is being with you too dangerous for me?”

  “Dammit, Arionna,” he growled. “Can’t you leave it alone? Please?”

  “No.” I refused to be swayed by his tone this time. I didn’t give a damn if the world did depend on my agreeing, I wasn’t going to do it. If we were in danger, I had a right to know why, especially since we both knew I had a role to play in this entire painful mess, too. “I won’t let it go.”

  He scowled and pinched the little pressure points on his forehead, above the eyes. “Fine, but you have to come with me.” He pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand toward me in one fluid movement.

  I placed my hand into his without hesitation. “Go with you where?”

  “To see the wolves,” he said, half dragging me toward the foyer.

  The wolves. I’d almost forgotten about them. “You can communicate with them, can’t you?” Accusation rang clear as bells in my question.

  “Yes, Arionna,” he said, grabbing my coat and opening the front door. He stepped aside so I could get out. “I can communicate with the wolves.”

  “Ugh,” I grumbled, once again resisting the urge to kick him. Hard. I jerked my arms through the coat sleeves.

  “Ugh?” He pulled the door closed behind him then trotted down the steps, looking back at me.

  “Ugh,” I repeated, no less disgusted than the first time I’d said it. “You lied to me. Do you have any idea how much I hate being lied to?”

  “I did, didn’t I?” He hesitated on the sidewalk, sounding surprised but not in the least contrite. “Ah, well.” He shrugged his jacket on and trotted to the Jeep parked by the curb.

  “Ah, well?” What the hell kind of answer was that?

  “I had to tell you something.” He opened the passenger side door for me, looking completely unapologetic. “You wouldn’t have believed the truth anyway.”

  “I wouldn’t have …” I froze halfway into the car then turned back to glare at him. “You’re as infuriating as a little ankle biting terrier,” I muttered before climbing the rest of the way in.

  He pushed the door closed behind me, his laughter floating through the air. The urge to kick him loomed again. He infuriated me. He acted like last night changed nothing!

  He hopped into the driver side and started the Jeep. “Seat belt.”

  I glowered at him, but obediently strapped myself in. “Happy now?”

  He grinned at me. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

  “And you’re a pain in the ass,” I shot back.

  “Heard it before,” he said with another grin, putting the car in drive and pulling off.

  “Impossible.”

  “Adorable.”

  I closed my eyes, shaking my head and refusing to say anything further. Talking to him was like speaking an entirely different language. Chelle had not been kidding about him resisting letting anyone in. Fighting him exhausted me, and it hurt. Why did he get to take up permanent residence in my head when he wouldn’t even answer a simple question for me?

  “Are you seriously angry with me?” he asked after a moment, not sounding amused, but still not sounding sorry either. He sounded curious, like he honestly wasn’t sure one way or another.

  “What do you think?” I cracked one eye open and scowled at him.

  “I think you are upset, but not with me,” he said, pulling to a stop at the sign at the end of Dad’s street.

  “Then who am I upset with?”

  “The situation. Like you said, it sucks.”

  The entire situation did suck, and I was upset at life in general. But Dace certainly factored in there somewhere. He had answers I wanted, and he refused to give them to me. We hadn’t gone two steps backward; we’d gone all the way back to the very beginning. Who wouldn’t be irritated about that?

  “You don’t make it any easier, you know.” He lowered his v
oice, his tone soft and silky.

  I refused to be swayed by the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. “Neither do you.” I looked at him, not glaring but weary. “Do you know what it feels like to be in the middle of a game you don’t know the rules for?”

  “That’s how I make you feel?”

  “That’s how the entire situation feels, Dace! I feel like I jumped off a plane without a parachute and landed in some foreign country where I don’t even speak the language. I … .” I trailed off, not sure how to explain the disconcerting uncertainty brewing inside. The last twenty-four hours had been a riot of confusing revelations mixed with painful truths and an ever-increasing sense of doom. I hadn’t the time even to begin fitting the pieces together to try and make sense of anything before some new mind warp came along to muddle things even more.

  I wanted to be angry at Dace for that, and in a way, I was. He wouldn’t answer my questions, and he put on this act like his heart wasn’t mangled by Dani’s death. I needed him to let me in a little. I needed him to let me know he struggled with our situation too, and he wouldn’t. He hadn’t told me how he felt about much of anything. What little I did know, I’d mostly picked up by chance before he’d figured out how to shut me out. That bothered me.

  “How do I make you feel, Arionna?” He pulled the Jeep into the parking lot at the park, then turned to look at me, his expression unfathomable, and his voice quietly serious.

  I looked up at him. “Frustrated, tired, irritated, excited, protected, happy, confused, and hurt. You make my head spin and take my breath away at the same time, Dace. You have from the very beginning, and I’m not sure if I want to kiss or kill you for it.”

  The wolf surged to life, rumbling. He didn’t beat at the walls of his cage or fight to get out, but he most definitely sat up and paid attention. So did Dace. His hands were locked tight around the steering wheel in an attempt to keep from touching me, maybe.

  Finally, a real reaction from him.

  “Let’s go talk to these wolves of yours.” I unfastened my belt then slipped out of the car before he could respond to my confession. I’d needed his reaction, in more ways than I could possibly describe.

  I made it halfway across the parking lot before he caught up to me. He didn’t say anything. He just slipped his hand into mine and walked along beside me. I didn’t mind. I still couldn’t access his mind, but his silence made it obvious that he was thinking, trying to work things out, and decide what to tell me. It was better than nothing.

  We walked along in silence for a long time. I stumbled every so often as we climbed the hill and started down the other side, but luckily, the lights sitting here and there around the park allowed me to see well enough to keep myself on my feet. Once we made it to the start of the trail, the lights faded behind us, and we plunged forward into absolute darkness.

  As he had the last time we’d been here together, he didn’t stumble or trip once. And I, like last time, seemed to trip over objects his eyes picked out as if it were broad daylight. He automatically pulled me a little closer each time my step faltered. I began to appreciate my lack of night vision more with each little save he performed.

  “When we get there, they’ll want to get to know you. Don’t panic if they sniff at you, okay?” Dace said, startling me.

  I blinked, trying to see him in the inky blackness. “Why?” I’d almost forgotten we were trooping through the woods to see actual wolves, one of which had wanted to eat me not too long ago. I stumbled over a tree root.

  He caught me a little closer to his side. “Why don’t you want to panic, or why do they want to get to know you?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “They view me as a leader, an alpha. Not necessarily their alpha, but definitely an alpha. They’re curious, I guess.” He paused. “That’s not it, either. Not entirely.”

  “Hmm?”

  “Remember me telling you that shifters are rare?”

  “Yes.”

  ”Well, I’ve never come across another like me.”

  My shoe caught in a tree root and I tripped, nearly falling on my face. Dace gave up holding my hand and tucked me against his side, his arm around my waist. I fit perfectly against him.

  “The others can all communicate with their animal, and they have more control. Their shifter half doesn’t threaten to erupt and wreak havoc on the immediate population. They’re different. Calmer.”

  “And you’re not.” I didn’t need his confirmation. I already knew he wasn’t.

  “No,” he said anyway, “I’m not. I don’t have that control. I can usually keep the change from happening, but once it’s done … .”

  I got the sense he didn’t want to talk about that part of it.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “the wolves have never met a shifter like me before. It’s odd to them that I’m fully human in one way and completely wolf in another. Wolves see things differently though, and most don’t question it. To them, it is what it is. But some, like the one that tried to attack you the other day, are less inclined to accept me as an alpha.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I am fully human in one way, and because the other shifters in the area accept me as their alpha. It’s difficult trying to get wolves to cooperate with my demands when those demands come from someone who not only shares his territory with different species, but leads them, too. Some of the wolves, the older wolves, understand why I do it. The younger ones don’t.”

  “Do they accept it?” I asked. “Wait, how many other shifters live here?”

  “Eight.”

  Oh. I thought about that for a moment, trying to fit it into my mind alongside everything else I’d learned lately, but I wasn’t sure where the information fit. I decided to figure it out later, and then groaned to myself. The list of things I would figure out later had become scarily long. “Continue.”

  “They don’t always like my decision, but even the ones that don’t appreciate it tolerate me because their alpha, Kalei, demands it.” He sighed. “But maybe not for much longer.”

  “Because of Dani?”

  “Partly.” He stopped walking but didn’t say anything more.

  ”Dace … .” I warned, not willing to let him clam up on me now, not when I felt like we were finally getting somewhere.

  “I’m not trying to stall you, Arionna,” he said. “I’m thinking.”

  I wanted to tell him to think a little faster.

  “How much do you know?” he asked, no doubt sensing my charitable spell quickly coming to an end.

  I hated waiting. It sucked.

  “About Dani? Only what I felt from you before you closed me out.”

  “And what was that?”

  I hesitated, not sure if I should tell him the truth, and not sure if he’d be able to tell if I lied. I decided to go the honesty route. I didn’t like lying or being lied to. “You were furious and disgusted. Because of what happened to her, I think. Because of what you saw.”

  “You feel more than you should,” he muttered more to himself than to me.

  He hadn’t meant it as a compliment, or for my ears, but having a little confirmation that the link between us wasn’t as much of a one-way street as Dace seemed to want it to be gratified me. “Was I wrong?”

  “No,” he said, the word little more than a sigh. “You weren’t wrong.”

  “How did she die?” So long as I was getting answers, I figured I might as well try for that one.

  “Do you really want to know the answer to that?” He tried intimidating me into backing down and pretending I didn’t want to know, a half growl in his voice.

  He didn’t intimidate me though, and he knew it. “Yeah, I think I really do want that answer, Dace.” Something monumental was occurring here, and it involved me somehow. I needed to know how and why. Finding out more about Dani’s death seemed a prudent way to begin trying to sort out the mystery.

  “A shifter.”

  Even though I’d known that all along, the
confirmation made my blood run cold. One more thing settled atop the big, scary pile that made me certain the things occurring here were way outside of anything I had ever experienced. Where did all of this end? Was there a point when things stopped sounding so insane and frightening? Where all of it made sense and I could breathe again?

  “One of yours?”

  “No, not one of mine.” Certainty colored Dace’s words

  I couldn’t help but wonder if he simply hoped he was right or if he knew it for fact. I decided not to ask that question, not sure I wanted to hear his answer. “Why?”

  “Why am I certain, or why Dani?”

  “Why her, I guess. Why now?” I’d asked earlier, but he hadn’t answered. No surprise there. He didn’t answer the vast majority of my questions.

  “I don’t know.” He cleared his throat roughly. “Because of us. Maybe.”

  “Because of us.” A thousand little bees stung at my heart as I processed that. How much worse did believing we were at fault make him feel? “Why?”

  “I don’t know. There was no reason … .” His jaw clicked, as if he were clenching it hard enough that it groaned under the pressure again.

  I placed my hand on his arm, giving him my silent support as he tried to fight whatever demons surfaced for him. Call me crazy, but I had a feeling Dace had more demons than most people. His dad had seen to that.

  After a minute, his jaw relaxed, and he placed his hand beneath my arm to guide me. “There was no reason,” he repeated more calmly this time, steering me through the darkness once more. “You know that feeling you’ve been having? That something is coming?”

  “Yeah … .”

  “I feel it, too. I don’t know what’s coming, but I’ve always had this sense that I’m different than other shifters for a reason. Since you got here, the feeling’s gotten stronger.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know. I just know something is coming, and I’m supposed to do something about it. Now that you’re here, it’s started. I just have to figure out what it is and who’s involved.”