“Don’t scream,” a voice says as the light flicks on in the single-person restroom, and he spins my back to the wall.
My scream dies when I see Breckin Roberts standing over me, his face so close his breath caresses my cheek. My entire body lights up like a Christmas tree. A spark of something—awareness?—slips across his face, and his head cocks to the side. Gosh, I could stare at him all night. I want to. Just stand right here and look at him.
“You need to come with me.” His tone leaves no room for questions, so of course, I scoff.
“Are you high? This is the girls’ restroom, Breckin.”
“I need you to come with me,” he says again, as if I didn’t hear him the first time.
“You want me to come with you? Is this your way of asking me out?”
What a ridiculous question. Breckin Roberts would never ask me out. Breckin doesn’t ask anyone out. He skulks in corners as girls flock to him. Not that I’ve been watching him or anything. I attempt stepping sideways, but his palms slap on either side of my body, caging me. Something within me springs forward, reaching for him.
“Did you see him?” Breckin dips his head until our eyes are level, which is a feat, considering our one-foot height difference. Any attempt at words dies on my lips. “Did you?”
The urgency in his voice stirs the gnats to circling again. My eyes burn. The blue eyes, the dark presence. My jaw trembles. Where is this fear coming from?
“Hey.” Breckin scans my face. “I’ve got you.” He rubs the length of my upper arms, his touch light.
Time stops.
It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.
“What? What did you say?” The echo of a growl haunts me.
Breckin tilts his head, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip. A phantom pain slashes across my side as the image of a hand clawing at snow breaks through my mind. Gasping, I clutch my stomach. “I need to go.”
I push at his chest, my words a mere whisper as blood pounds in my ears, but he stands his ground.
Breckin shakes his head, his golden-brown hair falling over his flawless face. “I can’t let you go, Vivienne.”
His tone is one I’ve never heard from him. This is Breckin. He usually drawls every syllable he says as though he couldn’t care less about what he’s saying or to whom he’s speaking. I’ve always had the impression that he’s honoring us with his words when he speaks. This is different. This is authority.
Don’t Close Your Eyes
Breckin
The color leaches from Vivienne’s delicate face as her shoulders roll forward, making her appear tinier than she is. She drops her head, her long hair forming a curtain and closing her face off from my gaze.
“What happened yesterday afternoon?” Her voice cracks as she wraps her arms across her stomach. “What did you do to me?”
The moment I touched her and pulled her into the bathroom, I longed for more. More of her skin beneath mine, more of her scent, more of her presence. A spark ignited. Desperate, my fingers tangle in her blond strands, pushing them back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Vivienne grabs my wrist, holding my hand to the side of her head.
“You’re lying.” Her head remains bowed as her gaze lifts until she stares at me through thick, dark lashes. My thumb brushes her temple as she speaks. “Something happened to me. You were there. That guy—” She cocks her head toward the restaurant. “He was there. I feel it. I know it.”
“Viv—”
“Tell me the truth, or let me go.” Fear clings to her words the way perfume clings to her body. Her fear takes root deep within me, urging my angelic side to protect her. Her scent, though . . . that damn minty ginger scent. It digs into my soul and makes me oh so human.
There are rules in Havenwood Falls. Rules governing the supernatural. There are rules with Father. I fear his rules more than the Court’s.
I speak the truth regardless.
“You were attacked.” My arms drop as I move back a half step.
“Attacked?” Uncertainty clouds her face. She wets her lips and swallows. “By what?”
Bear, dragon, mountain lion, wolf—you name it, it could have attacked her. A shifter or an animal with no supernatural tendencies. Sure, Breck, while you’re at it, why don’t you scare the hell out of her and mention vampires, demons, and witchcraft, too?
“If I had to guess, I’d say a small bear.” Cubs aren’t too scary. It’s reasonable.
“A bear? In December?” She scowls.
“Right. Maybe a wolf or fox? I didn’t see it. I heard you scream, and by the time I found you, it was gone and—” My explanation ends there.
“I was out for a run. I didn’t see it.” She tugs at her sweater sleeves, pulling them over her fists. “I don’t remember anything. I just, I woke up and—” She clears her throat, changing her tone and line of questioning. “I screamed, and you just happened to be nearby?”
“I was.” Her nose scrunches as a dubious little twist of her mouth appears. I raise a brow. “You’re not the only person who enjoys exercising in the woods, you know.”
“So, what did you do?”
There’s no escaping the ego that tugs a smile across my lips. “I saved you.”
She inhales through her nose, her shoulders lifting as a hand moves to her side. Her fingers brush her ribs where she was injured. “My clothes?”
“Ruined.”
The door knob jiggles behind Vivienne’s back, followed by two knocks. She steps away, glancing at me before looking to the door. I still—waiting for her next move.
“Someone’s in here,” she says after a moment, and I release a relieved breath.
She’s not running. It’s a start. The reaper is nearby. His imprint, much like Vivienne’s fear, is detectable in the air—a unique marker with the sole purpose of notifying other angels of Death’s presence. He is nearby, and he shouldn’t be. He should have left Havenwood Falls, or moved on to the next soul in need of reaping. He shouldn’t be lingering around Vivienne. The way he looked at Vivienne, the possessive hunger in his gaze . . . Anger spreads across my shoulders, and I roll them, forcing my wings to remain concealed.
Vivienne closes the gap between us, her head tilting back. “Why did you save me?”
If only I knew. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“We’re not friends, Breckin. Granted, we’re not enemies, but you’ve never given me a reason to believe you’re the knight-in-shining-armor type.”
“But I’ve given you a reason to think I’m not?” Her comment affects me. I’m not one who is affected by humans. It matters none to me, yet I ask for clarification anyway. “That’s what you think of me?” She moves back, her head high, her eyes searching for answers she will not find, and I move forward. “You know so little of me, but you think I’d leave someone for dead in the woods?”