Wicked Kiss
Page 35
I bit my bottom lip. I was so cold that goose bumps had broken out over my bare skin. I crossed them, shivering. “I can’t control it. It just happens.”
He turned to the window and closed it. “What did you hear?”
A thousand different emotions bubbled inside me and I wanted to force them down and keep my game face on. Pretend that nothing affected me. Too bad everything affected me lately. My analytical and detached view of the world around me had dropped away, leaving me completely raw and vulnerable.
Bishop affected me. Sometimes I forgot how much, when he wasn’t this close to me, but he did. His scent, his presence, his warmth—everything called to me across the six tiny feet separating us right now. I wanted to close that distance, throw my arms around him and kiss him passionately. It was a need like eating, sleeping—a primal drive I couldn’t ignore.
I gripped the baseboard of my bed, digging my short fingernails into the smooth wood, and tried to stay calm. “You said that this...what you feel for me...it’s an inconvenient addiction.” I looked at him directly. “And yet here you are at midnight in my bedroom. Not smart.”
His expression tightened. “I wish you hadn’t heard that.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I lied. “Today—it’s put a lot of things into perspective for me.” I took a deep breath. “I talked to Stephen.”
Bishop was next to me in a heartbeat, taking hold of my arms. Electricity sparked between us, making me gasp. Making him gasp.
He swore, and let go of me, taking a shaky step back. “You talked to Stephen. When? Where?”
“He called me. I met him at the mall.”
“Why didn’t you find me?”
“Because I knew if he saw you he’d bolt.” I tried to maintain my control, but it was difficult. “I wanted to convince him to give me back my soul.”
His expression was tense. “And did you?”
“I think it was possible, but...we were interrupted. He told me stuff, Bishop.” I’d kept this from Cassandra, but Bishop needed to know. “He says that super-gray yesterday—that’s what’s happening to everyone. That grays go through a stasis—they turn zombie, but it isn’t permanent like we thought. It’s just a stage. When they come out of it they’re stronger, smarter and totally sociopathic. If they don’t come out of it...they die.” Panic clawed at my chest as I related this horrible information. “It’s one or the other. Stephen wanted to warn me.”
I studied his reaction to this. It wasn’t filled with surprise, more like grim acceptance. “You already knew this, didn’t you?” I asked.
“I didn’t know for sure.”
“Well, now you do.” Another tremble went through me, and not just from being cold this time. “It’s going to happen to me.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
I let out a small snort. “You sound so certain I almost believe you.”
He raised his fierce gaze to mine. His eyes glowed with a soft blue light in the darkness of my room. “You’re different, Samantha. You’re not like the others.”
“I don’t know if who my birth mother and father is will have much to do with this particular outcome.”
He clenched his teeth, anger brightening the celestial energy in his eyes that held an edge of madness. “It has everything to do with it. And you need to keep fighting, keep resisting. You’re not like the other grays.”
“Is that why you came here? To test me? To see how controlled I am?” My voice trembled. “Because I hate to break it to you, but I’m not. Not when you’re this close to me.”
“I had to come here.”
“You had to?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him directly, raising my chin. “Then remember, when I attack you, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”
Chapter 11
My words of warning didn’t seem to panic him. “Are you planning on attacking me, Samantha?”
My cheeks burned to admit it, but it was the truth. I shrugged. “Think it, say it. That’s how I’ve always been. Maybe I should keep more of my thoughts to myself.”
Despite the intense gravity of our discussion, there was now a small smile playing at Bishop’s lips, which only worked to draw my attention there. “You’re very honest. Very open. I like that.”
“One more thing we don’t have in common. I’m an open book. You’re...closed with a lock and key.”
The smile disappeared completely. “What else did Stephen tell you?”
I’d hit a sore point. We could discuss grays and death and souls all night long, but any mention of his secrets and he shut down. Typical. “Not much. Like I said, we were interrupted.” My voice caught. “A girl killed herself at the mall. Right in front of me.”
His dark brows drew together. “What? Who?”
I shook my head. “It’s not related to Stephen or anything. She was fine, then she got really depressed, like zero to sixty. Then she...” I drew in a ragged breath. “It was horrible.”
His expression was grave. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Life and death, Bishop. It can change in a heartbeat. Any second. Any moment. It can all be taken away. I never realized that before, but it’s true.”
He drew closer again. “Not to you. You’re going to have a very long and very happy life. I swear you will.”
He turned to the window and closed it. “What did you hear?”
A thousand different emotions bubbled inside me and I wanted to force them down and keep my game face on. Pretend that nothing affected me. Too bad everything affected me lately. My analytical and detached view of the world around me had dropped away, leaving me completely raw and vulnerable.
Bishop affected me. Sometimes I forgot how much, when he wasn’t this close to me, but he did. His scent, his presence, his warmth—everything called to me across the six tiny feet separating us right now. I wanted to close that distance, throw my arms around him and kiss him passionately. It was a need like eating, sleeping—a primal drive I couldn’t ignore.
I gripped the baseboard of my bed, digging my short fingernails into the smooth wood, and tried to stay calm. “You said that this...what you feel for me...it’s an inconvenient addiction.” I looked at him directly. “And yet here you are at midnight in my bedroom. Not smart.”
His expression tightened. “I wish you hadn’t heard that.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I lied. “Today—it’s put a lot of things into perspective for me.” I took a deep breath. “I talked to Stephen.”
Bishop was next to me in a heartbeat, taking hold of my arms. Electricity sparked between us, making me gasp. Making him gasp.
He swore, and let go of me, taking a shaky step back. “You talked to Stephen. When? Where?”
“He called me. I met him at the mall.”
“Why didn’t you find me?”
“Because I knew if he saw you he’d bolt.” I tried to maintain my control, but it was difficult. “I wanted to convince him to give me back my soul.”
His expression was tense. “And did you?”
“I think it was possible, but...we were interrupted. He told me stuff, Bishop.” I’d kept this from Cassandra, but Bishop needed to know. “He says that super-gray yesterday—that’s what’s happening to everyone. That grays go through a stasis—they turn zombie, but it isn’t permanent like we thought. It’s just a stage. When they come out of it they’re stronger, smarter and totally sociopathic. If they don’t come out of it...they die.” Panic clawed at my chest as I related this horrible information. “It’s one or the other. Stephen wanted to warn me.”
I studied his reaction to this. It wasn’t filled with surprise, more like grim acceptance. “You already knew this, didn’t you?” I asked.
“I didn’t know for sure.”
“Well, now you do.” Another tremble went through me, and not just from being cold this time. “It’s going to happen to me.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s not.”
I let out a small snort. “You sound so certain I almost believe you.”
He raised his fierce gaze to mine. His eyes glowed with a soft blue light in the darkness of my room. “You’re different, Samantha. You’re not like the others.”
“I don’t know if who my birth mother and father is will have much to do with this particular outcome.”
He clenched his teeth, anger brightening the celestial energy in his eyes that held an edge of madness. “It has everything to do with it. And you need to keep fighting, keep resisting. You’re not like the other grays.”
“Is that why you came here? To test me? To see how controlled I am?” My voice trembled. “Because I hate to break it to you, but I’m not. Not when you’re this close to me.”
“I had to come here.”
“You had to?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him directly, raising my chin. “Then remember, when I attack you, you’ve only got yourself to blame.”
Chapter 11
My words of warning didn’t seem to panic him. “Are you planning on attacking me, Samantha?”
My cheeks burned to admit it, but it was the truth. I shrugged. “Think it, say it. That’s how I’ve always been. Maybe I should keep more of my thoughts to myself.”
Despite the intense gravity of our discussion, there was now a small smile playing at Bishop’s lips, which only worked to draw my attention there. “You’re very honest. Very open. I like that.”
“One more thing we don’t have in common. I’m an open book. You’re...closed with a lock and key.”
The smile disappeared completely. “What else did Stephen tell you?”
I’d hit a sore point. We could discuss grays and death and souls all night long, but any mention of his secrets and he shut down. Typical. “Not much. Like I said, we were interrupted.” My voice caught. “A girl killed herself at the mall. Right in front of me.”
His dark brows drew together. “What? Who?”
I shook my head. “It’s not related to Stephen or anything. She was fine, then she got really depressed, like zero to sixty. Then she...” I drew in a ragged breath. “It was horrible.”
His expression was grave. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Life and death, Bishop. It can change in a heartbeat. Any second. Any moment. It can all be taken away. I never realized that before, but it’s true.”
He drew closer again. “Not to you. You’re going to have a very long and very happy life. I swear you will.”
