Prey. Rachel Vincent
hurts not to see and touch him every day.
“What about Jace?”
My chest tightened, and my heart seemed to be trying to beat its way free. “What about him?”
“He likes you. Like Marc likes you.”
“What makes you think that?” I gave her my best blank face.
“He watches you. All the time. If you need something, he brings it to you. And when he looks at you, his heart beats really hard. I can hear it.” She smiled slyly, and her big hazel eyes glinted. “Like yours is doing right now.”
Damn it. I resisted the urge to close my eyes, or otherwise betray my frustration, which she would probably notice, like she had my heartbeat. “Kaci, that’s really… complicated.”
“Because you don’t like him like that?” Bald hope flooded Kaci’s features, and suddenly I understood. This wasn’t about me and Marc. It was about Jace.
Kaci had a crush on Jace.
Oh, shit.
An interest in boys was a nice, normal development for a girl her age, and might go a long way toward convincing her to Shift, so she’d be healthy enough to start dating—with several huge, protective chaperones. But Jace was nearly twenty-five, and Kaci was only thirteen. She needed a boy her own age to crush on.
Yet another reason to get her enrolled in school.
But as for her actual question… “Kaci, I’m with Marc.”
“So, Jace is single, right?”
Kaci frowned again and glanced at my open bedroom door. Then she turned back to me, and when she spoke, her voice was a barely audible whisper. “How old were you when you and Marc first…”
Mayday, mayday!
Alarms went off in my head, and my eyes snapped shut in denial. I was not ready to have this conversation with Kaci. And somehow we were back to her looking at my life as a blueprint for her own. I didn’t want that kind of responsibility! I wanted the freedom to mess up and know that my mistakes wouldn’t screw up anyone’s life but my own.
Unfortunately, I’d kind of given up that privilege when I became an enforcer.
“Whoa, Kaci, back up a bit.” I shook my head and made myself meet her frank gaze. “You’re waaaay too young to be thinking about sex.”
She rolled her eyes, and the gesture was eerily familiar from my own adolescence. Okay, also from what little of my adulthood I’d survived so far.
“I was talking about kissing,” Kaci said, in that exasperated tone she usually saved for my mother, during homeschooling. “I just meant, how old were you when you first kissed Marc? But since you brought up sex…” Her eyes glinted with a spark of mischief. “Same question.”
Damn it! “Way older than you are.” My head was throbbing and pain was shooting through my chest. I was having a panic attack. The little whelp was giving me an aneurism!
I was a firm believer in telling the truth, but some of my truths weren’t suitable for such young ears, and I did not want to screw up someone else’s kid!
I had to redirect. Change the subject. Turn the conversation back onto her before my mother decided to step in. But Kaci was still talking…
“Was it your idea, or his?”
Oh, shit. But she wasn’t done yet.
“Does it hurt? ‘Cause I heard…”
Okay, this has to stop.
I threw up one hand, palm facing her, in the universal sign for halt! Then I took a deep breath and glanced at the open door again, this time thinking of escape, rather than of being overheard. But that was the coward’s way out. If I could stand against multiple strays in cat form, wielding only a shovel, surely I could face a single thirteen-year-old and her birds-and-bees inquisition.
And, if not, I could procrastinate with the best of them.
“You’re throwing an awful lot of questions at me all at once, Kaci. And asking for a lot of very personal information.”
Her face fell, and she tugged aimlessly at the frayed cuff of her jeans. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”
I sighed. Answering her questions—at least some of them—might go a long way toward getting her to truly trust me. Which might help me convince her to Shift. But no true compromise was one-sided. “I tell you what. I will answer three of your questions—any three you want…”
Her eyes lit up in expectation.
“…after you Shift.”
Kaci scowled. Then she stood, more color draining from her already pale face, and stomped across my room and through the open doorway.
“I take it that’s a no?” I called after her.
She slammed her bedroom door in reply, and I flinched.
Well, that went well…
Seven
“Again!” Ethan wrapped both bare arms around the heavy punching bag to steady it, and I shot him a look meant to scorch him from the inside out. Or at least to shut him up. “Harder this time. And a little higher. Hit his knee from the side, and he’ll go down. Then it’s all over but the beatin’.”
“He doesn’t have knees,” I snapped, wiping sweat from my forehead with an equally sweaty forearm. There was a clean, dry towel hanging over a folding chair near the bathroom, but I was too tired to cross the basement for it. “He doesn’t even have legs.”
“Oh, you got jokes?” Ethan grinned amiably, his green eyes flashing in challenge. He dropped his arms, then stepped around the bag, his sneakers sinking into the thick blue mat with each step. “If you’ve got energy to be funny, we’re not working you hard enough. Right, Kaci?”
“Right.” The young tabby tucked her legs up onto her folding metal chair and sipped from a covered mug filled with hot chocolate. Then she grinned at me and set her drink back on the bench press serving as an end table. The night before, she’d officially forgiven me for pushing the Shifting issue so hard. Still, she didn’t seem to mind watching Ethan kick my ass….
Little traitor.
Our basement was unheated, but was naturally insulated by the earth surrounding it, so the slight chill seeping in from the high windows was no problem for me or Ethan. After only half an hour of moderate lifting, he and I were both covered in sweat, even wearing only light workout clothes. In fact, he’d shed his shirt several minutes earlier.
But Kaci shivered beneath long sleeves, jeans, and a light blanket. She didn’t have enough energy to exercise with us, and she lacked the body fat to keep herself warm, but no amount of begging, coercing, or threatening on our part could convince her to go back upstairs, where my mother waited with more cocoa and an algebra textbook.
I could probably have made her go up, but I’d decided not to push the issue because she was still mad at me over the unanswered sex questions. Besides, we’d be heading up for lunch soon anyway.
“You’re not working me at all.” I reached up to catch the towel Ethan tossed me. “You’re practicing with me, not on me. Or do you need another reminder?”
“What I need is an actual challenge, smart-ass.” Ethan winked at Kaci, who grinned, enjoying our banter. “Think you can manage that?”
“Oh, you’re asking for it n—” Before I could finish the sentence, Ethan charged.
I