“London. Why?”
“I think my mom was working on this project when she died,” I said quietly. I didn’t know if he would be upset I hadn’t told him earlier, but for Jo’s sake, I felt like I had to tell him now. “She left behind some details . . .”
“Go on.” His face darkened.
“I found an encrypted note that spells out, ‘Get antidote from Magnificat.’” I got excited, realizing we could save Jo and the others—Gavin and me, working together. “She must have meant an antidote for this poisoning program!”
“Hold on a minute,” he said. “Have you shown this stuff to anyone else?”
“No,” I lied. No need to incriminate Hunter just yet.
“What you found is very sensitive, very dangerous information, Maren. You need to be careful.”
“I know,” I said. “But—”
“But nothing,” he interrupted. “I need to go report in with my village. I’ll tell them what you told me, and see what they think is best. In the meantime, I want you to stay home. Don’t go anywhere.”
“Where would I go?” I huffed. I wasn’t used to being bossed around, especially by someone who looked my age. I knew he was technically older than me, but still . . .
I sulked until we pulled up to my grandparents’ house. He parked by the mailbox, and when he turned to me, his expression was unexpectedly soft. He leaned over, crossing the middle of the car and stopping just inches from my face. “If you don’t mind,” he whispered, his voice drawing me even closer, “I’d like to sit outside your window tonight.”
I would have been less shocked if he said he wanted to make out with me. “Why?” I asked, holding my breath, hoping he would try to kiss me.
He pulled away. “I just . . . I just want to make sure you’re safe . . . until we figure out what’s going on.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
“What?” He feigned innocence.
“You’re serious,” I answered. “You, Mr. I’m-Not-a-Babysitter, are volunteering to be my personal night watchman? What’s the catch?”
“There is no catch.” He tried to look all business, but his eyes said he wasn’t thinking about business at all. There was a hot energy coming off him again—and it was pointed at me. He stammered, “It’s just . . . Well, you do have the information from your mum. Someone should at least protect that.”
I pretended to be hurt. “What about me?”
“I thought you didn’t need protecting,” he said.
“I don’t,” I replied. After breaking my heart and leaving me without warning, he wasn’t getting an all-access roof pass without working for it.
“Please,” he sighed. I was glad I was able to shake him up a little, since he seemed to have no problem messing with my emotions. “For once, can you just try to not be so difficult . . .”
“That’s your idea of convincing me to let you sit outside my window all night? Some sweet-talker.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them, they seemed bluer than ever before. “Maren,” he pleaded softly, “I would really like to make sure you’re safe tonight. Please.” He slid his strong hand over mine. The heat between us was so intense, my heart threatened to jump out of my chest. It was all I could do to sit still.
“All right,” I exhaled. I didn’t dare move my hand. I didn’t dare move anything. I wanted so badly for him to kiss me, but he just sat there, staring at me. I couldn’t take my eyes off his beautiful lips. I wanted to dive into them. I’d never wanted to do anything as badly as I wanted to kiss him. But there was no way I was going to make the first move.
Please, I silently willed him, just move your head the tiniest bit toward me. I’ll meet you in the middle. I want to kiss you. I want you to want me too!
His gaze bore into me, but he sat completely motionless. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to break the tension before my body turned traitor and I made a fool of myself.
I slipped my hand from under his and swiveled to unlock the car door, turning away from the passion that threatened to suffocate me. I wasn’t going to give in that easily. Not if he wasn’t going to say something first.
“You can sit up there if you want.” I shrugged. “But don’t go peeking in my room or anything.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a sly grin.
Damn!
I couldn’t sleep. The wind screamed around my attic room—an otherworldly wailing that spoke of demons and my mother’s death. Loose shingles rattled against each other with a concrete scraping that made my skin crawl. I imagined a corpse trying to climb out of its coffin. The gale tormented me, not just because I was scared, but because I knew Gavin was right outside, keeping watch on the roof.
Thoughts of him consumed me. Can he be blown off? Is it too chilly? Do angels even get cold? I remembered the warmth of his chest and doubted it.
To calm myself, I rubbed my hands over my new pajamas; I’d been wearing his shirt to bed every night since he’d left it. The fabric still held his scent: a delicious, heady smell like the first spring breeze of the season. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the wind as a gentle thing, not the invisible, deadly force that beat outside.
Something banged overhead and then thumped away like a lopsided coconut. What is going on out there? Did something happen? What if Anders came back for me? I bolted upright.
Gavin was standing at the end of my bed. He put a finger to his lips, silencing the yelp that revved in my throat.
“What are you doing in here?” I croaked.
“Making sure you’re all right,” he whispered. “Your heart was beating a bit wildly there.” I was embarrassed, remembering he could hear it.
“It’s the wind,” I confessed. “Kind of sounds like screaming. I’m not a fan.”
“Och, the wind can’t hurt you.”
“Says the guy who can fly,” I answered. “It’s not the wind as much as the things it carries: large tree trunks, flying cows, demons . . .”
He shook his head. “We’ll be having none of those tonight.”
“Can you maybe make the wind stop, then?” I hoped.
“Sorry, I don’t control the weather.” He smiled, not helping my heart rate one bit.
“What can you control?” I demanded.
“Apparently, not my wardrobe,” he mused. “That’s my shirt you’re wearing!”
I gathered the collar in one hand. “No, it’s not.”
“Aye, it is. You pinched it!” His playful familiarity made my bones turn to liquid. I sunk into the mattress a bit.
“If by ‘pinched’ you mean ‘stole,’ no, I didn’t,” I protested. “You left it here.”
“So we’re agreed, it is mine.”
I shrugged in response. I couldn’t believe he was in my room, in the dark. I was glad I had locked my bedroom door. No adult, no matter how laid back, would let a hot guy inside a girl’s room in the middle of the night. The idea of breaking everyone’s rules started my blood flowing again.