On the Edge (The Edge #1)(57)
Author: Ilona Andrews

One glance at his face told her she was right. She parked.

"Why are we stopping?" he asked.

"We’re at the boundary. You might not survive it if we cross it in a vehicle – it’s too fast." She unbuckled her seat belt. "Look, I understand why Casshorn would view me as bait. He thinks I’m trash and a whore and that I’ll just sit on my hands, content to let you guard me until he decides he’s done playing. What I don’t get is, what exactly makes you think that I will stand for it?"

Declan unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over, too close, blocking out the world.

"What are you – "

His lips touched hers, warm and inviting. She was still furious at him, but somehow her anger didn’t stop her from opening her mouth and letting him in. No, it drove her to him, and she kissed him back, caught between the urge to slap him and the thrill of tasting him. His arms closed about her and he pulled her to him. She wasn’t sure if she was trapped or shielded or both, but it made her feel happy and she kissed him.

The sound of a car horn blared at them. They broke apart. A red truck roared past them, its windows down. Rob Simoen screamed some obscenity at them and sped past the boundary into the Broken.

Declan growled. "I’ll have to kill him one day."

Rose pushed on his chest with her hand. "If you let go of me now, I’m going to chalk your mauling of me up to temporary insanity."

He kissed her again, lightly brushing her lips.

"Declan!"

His grass green eyes laughed at her. "I wanted you to be sure that I wasn’t temporarily insane."

"You can stop pretending now, remember?" she said. "I know you didn’t come here for me. You came here because of Casshorn, so no need to keep up the seducing charade. I find it bothersome."

"This is probably the point where I should be suave," he said. "I used to be able to do it, but somehow my skills leave me when I’m with you."

"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes.

"I should be more polite about this, but I don’t think you’ll understand me unless I speak directly," he said.

She’d heard those words before. It took her a second, but she remembered where – she had said them to him outside of the Burger King.

"You’re a prickly, stubborn, spirited woman."

"Don’t forget crude, rude, and vulgar."

"Only when it suits you. You’re sly when occasion calls for it, direct to the point of forgetting tact even exists, sarcastic, fierce, I did mention stubborn, didn’t I?"

"Yes," she said dryly.

"You’re also smart, kind, gentle, beautiful, and always cling to your personal integrity, even when it’s in your best interests to abandon it."

A little warm feeling spread through her chest, and even her natural suspicion that he was lying couldn’t quite extinguish it. Where was he going with this?

"You’re also quite funny," he said.

"Oh, I amuse you?"

He gave her one of his devastating, slightly wicked smiles. "You have no idea."

Arrogant ass. "And all of that means what?"

"Just that I mean to have you."

She frowned at him.

"I mean to have you, Rose, you and all of your thorns. I’m a disagreeable and stubborn bastard, but I’m not a fool. You didn’t really expect me to pass you up, did you?"

Heat flooded her face, and she knew she flushed. Declan laughed.

"Well, you can’t have me," she parried. "You lied to me. I don’t trust you, I’m not leaving with you, and I’m not sleeping with you either. Now let go of me and get out of the truck, so we can get through the boundary and get this trip over with."

They faced the boundary together. It would be difficult for him. Most people from the Weird had difficulty adjusting to the Edge, let alone the Broken. But he had done it once before and showed up in the Burger King to open a glorious can of whoop-ass for Brad. Still, she had to be very careful.

"What happened when you tried to cross the last time?" she asked. "It’s important."

"Pain," he said. "I went into convulsions. I think I might have stopped breathing, but my recollection is murky."

This would take some work. Rose gripped his fingers tighter. "We’ll do this easy and slow. Just follow me, and if you feel like you might be blacking out, tell me."

She anchored her magic through her palm to his and took a tiny step forward. He followed her. A small portion of magic drained from him, and she replaced some of it with her own. It felt like hooking a vein in your arm with tweezers and pulling it out slowly.

Another step. Again she cushioned the magic drain.

Declan was perspiring.

One more step. Rose felt her body quake. The shock traveled down her arm, and he glanced at her. She gave him a bright, reassuring smile.

Slowly, little by little, they passed across the boundary, and when the last spark of magic died within Declan, she gave him all she had. Another breath and they were through.

Declan stumbled and shook his head. "That was considerably easier. Rose?"

She sank onto the grass, struggling against sharp pain in her stomach. "Give me a minute."

He knelt by her. "Are you all right?"

She cradled a spiky knot in her stomach. "Fine. Just after-shock. Taking someone across the boundary takes a bit of effort, that’s all."

He picked her up.

"There’s no need to hold me," she told him. "It’s just harmless pain. It’s passing already."

He ignored her. "What would’ve happened if you’d let go?"

"You would’ve died," she said. "My magic would’ve torn out of your body, and the shock would’ve killed you."

"You missed your chance to do away with me."

"Drat," she said. "I guess there’s always next time."

A moment later she made him put her down, crossed the boundary, and got her truck.

Despite it being Sunday morning, when a good number of the Broken’s citizens flocked to churches, the Wal-Mart parking lot was crowded.

She swiped a cart. They walked in side by side, and Declan stopped. His eyes surveyed the crowd, taking in the electric lights, the bright colors of the packages, rows of gleaming primary color picnic glassware on his right . . . He reached for her and firmly took her arm.

"What?"

"Too many people," he said quietly. "Too loud."

His face closed in, and she was sure that if they had been in the Edge, his eyes would now glow pure white. He resembled a soldier in enemy territory, expecting a sniper’s shot from behind every aisle and a land mine under every floor tile. His magic remained in the Edge; his swords and rifles and even her gun stayed in the car. It was a lot to take in.