Kindred (Page 21)

He stared at her in surprise; his eyebrows drew tightly together as he thought over her strange words. “Who is Luther?”

“Melissa’s father, adoptive father,” she amended.

Devon shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand. What does he have to do with the fact that you could no longer go to camp?”

She turned toward him, holding her hair back as the breeze briefly picked up. For a moment grief enveloped her and that lost look filled her eyes again. But then her gaze cleared, and she smiled brightly at him. She squeezed his hand before standing on tiptoe to kiss him briefly. Devon started in surprise; he enjoyed the playful demeanor that suddenly enveloped her. He was certain that it was not an attitude she had very often.

“This is a dreary topic for such a wonderful dream, and one that I do not want to think about right now. I think about it too often during the day.”

Devon was once again confused as to what she was talking about. What did Melissa’s adopted dad have to do with anything major in her life, other than taking care of her friend, and maybe driving them to the movies or dances once in awhile? Those things were certainly not something that would occupy her thoughts often during the day, at least not as often as she had just suggested.

Before he could question her further, she tilted her head to the side, looking impish and striking. “I would much rather go swimming.”

With that she released his hand and plunged into the water. Her beautiful laughter trailed off as she dove beneath the surface. Devon stood in shocked wonder for a moment before shrugging negligently. It had been a very long time since he had gone swimming, and he could think of no one he would rather do it with.

Cassie burst back to the surface, inhaling deeply. Her skin glimmered in the light of the sun, her dress was tight against her and drops of water clung to her as she smiled beckoningly at him. Excitement spurted through him. She was tantalizing, irresistible, and completely delicious looking. He could not refuse her as he began to wade into the warm water.

He was only feet from her when her head tilted to the side, her eyebrows drew sharply together and irritation flitted over her delicate features. “What is that noise?” she mumbled.

“What noise?”

He could hear nothing except for the gentle lapping of the waves against their skin. “Alarm,” she whispered.

And then she was gone. Horror and terror filled Devon as he looked frantically around for her. It took him a few moments to realize that she had simply awakened. She had not disappeared for good. He still couldn’t help the disappointment that crashed over him in suffocating waves. He had wanted more time with her, wanted to enjoy her more, hold her more. He had not wanted this to end so soon.

Retreating from the lake he returned to the shore, ignoring the feel of the grass now. It did not matter as much without her here to enjoy it with him. Sighing, he slid to the ground, draping his arms over his knees he stared at the serene lake that Cassie had placed here. He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know about her days at camp, her childhood, and life experiences both happy and sad. He wanted to know everything that there was to know about her, and he was tired of being avoided all the time.

He did not care about the confusion and doubt that resided inside of him; did not care about her strange talk, or the fact that he had lost control of his ability. There was only one thing that he cared about now. It no longer matter that Cassie fought him every step of the way, he was going to get closer to her in real life. He was going to make their dream come true.

CHAPTER 8

Cassie breezed into the kitchen, humming cheerfully under her breath as she grabbed an apple from a bowl on the center island. Her grandmother looked up at her in surprise, freezing in the act of beating some scrambled eggs. Her eyes widened, her delicate strawberry colored eyebrows drew sharply together as her azure eyes tracked Cassie’s every movement. Reaching over her grandma turned down the country song drifting softly from the radio.

“You seem much happier today.”

Cassie nodded, stopping to drop a kiss on her grandmother’s soft cheek. Though she was in her late fifties, she barely looked a day over thirty. Only soft laugh lines marred the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her shoulder length, strawberry blond hair, was pulled into a lose ponytail that bounced against her neck.

“A little.”

“Did you finally get some sleep?”

Cassie nodded, a small smile flitted over her mouth as she recalled the night of sleep she’d had. Though she knew that it had only been a dream, and could only ever be a dream, it had still been wonderful. It had still left her feeling warm, and alive, and strangely loved this morning. Her gaze darted to the window as Chris emerged from his house.

“Yes,” Cassie answered absently.

Though she had woken up strangely revived and optimistic, the sight of Chris’s slumped shoulders reminded her that this was not some strangely realistic dream. This was her life. And in her life, there was no room for hope and optimism. There was no room to have feelings for someone, because in the end they would only both get hurt. Though she reminded herself of these things, she could not stop the excitement and eagerness that filled her at the thought of seeing Devon today. She was playing with fire, and bound to get burned, but at this moment she could not put the matches down.

“Luther is working you all too hard,” her grandmother muttered before returning to her eggs.

“We’re fine, grandma.”

She glanced sharply back up at Cassie. “You haven’t been fine for the past week.”

Cassie shrugged as she shoved the apple into her bag. She didn’t want to meet her grandmother’s eyes; she knew how sharp the woman was. She would not see past Cassie’s pretense of being fine. “I was just a little stressed over school.”

“Hmm,” she grunted. “You’re too young for such responsibilities.”

Cassie sighed softly as she heaved her backpack onto her shoulder. Chris was already parked on the street, waiting for her. He usually came inside in the morning, either to say hi to her grandma, or to steal some food. The fact that he was not coming in led Cassie to believe that he’d had a rough night, and he did not want her grandma to pick up on that fact. Though sitting outside did nothing to keep it hidden.

“You were younger than me when you learned what you were,” Cassie reminded her gently. “And you had the same responsibilities.”

Her grandmother turned toward her. “I always knew what I was Cassie. It was not a shock to me, and at the time we did not fear for our lives as fiercely as we have to now. At the time, we never could have imagined that such a thing as The Slaughter would occur. You should not have had to know either.”