Shadowland Page 53


I turn to him, heart crashing, skin slick with sweat, aware of the footsteps behind us, the shouts ringing out. Standing mutely beside him, unable to move, unable to scream, his eyes closed in deep concentration, urging the complex alarm system to go dormant again.

But it’s too late. They’re already here. So I raise my arms in surrender, ready to accept my fate, when the steel cage ascends and I’m yanked out the door and toward the blooming fields of Summerland.

Or at least I envisioned Summerland.

Damen envisioned us safely ensconced in his car, heading toward home.

And so we find ourselves in the middle of a busy highway instead—a slew of speeding cars honking and skidding as we scramble to our feet and hurry to the side, gazing all around and catching our breath as we try to determine where we are.

“I don’t think this is Summerland,” I say, glancing at Damen as he breaks into a laugh so contagious, it gets me going as well. The two of us huddled on the side of a litter-strewn highway, in some undetermined location, falling all over ourselves.

“How’s that for breaking out of a rut?” He gasps, shoulders shaking as we continue to laugh.

“I almost had a heart attack back there—I thought for sure we’d—” I catch my breath and shake my head.

“Hey now.” He pulls me near. “Didn’t I promise I’d always look after you and keep you from harm?”

I nod, remembering the words, but unfortunately the last few minutes are still etched on my brain. “How about a car then? A car would be good about now, don’t you think?”

He closes his eyes, transferring the BMW from there to here, or maybe he manifested a brand new one instead, it’s impossible to tell since they both look the same.

“Can you even imagine what those guards thought when first we and then the car disappeared?” He holds the door open and ushers me in, adding, “The security cameras!” before closing his eyes and taking care of them too.

I watch as he pulls into traffic, a happy grin spread wide across his face. Realizing he’s actually enjoying this. That those last few minutes of danger got him even more excited than the painting did.

“It’s been a while since I pushed it like that.” He glances at me. “But just so you know, I’m holding you partly responsible. After all, you’re the one who convinced me to linger.”

I look at him, eyes grazing over his face, really taking him in. And even though my heartbeat may never return to normal again, it’s been far too long since I’ve seen him like this—this—happy—this—carefree—this—dangerous—in the way that first made him attractive to me.

“So what’s next?” He slaloms through the traffic, hand on my knee.

“Um, home?” I look at him, wondering what could possibly top an outing like that.

He looks at me, clearly game for more. “Are you sure? Because we can stay out as long as you like, I don’t want you to get bored again.”

“I think I underestimated bored.” I laugh. “I’m starting to see how it has its place.”

Damen nods, leaning toward me and pressing his lips to my cheek, almost rear-ending an Escalade the second he takes his eyes off the road.

I laugh, pushing him back toward his seat. “Really. I think we pushed our luck enough for one night.”

“As you wish.” He smiles, squeezing my knee as he turns back toward the road, focused on home.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Even though I’d hoped to be long gone by the time Munoz swung by to pick up Sabine, the second I pull into my drive I glance at my rearview mirror only to find him right there behind me.

Early.

Ten minutes early in fact.

The same ten minutes I’d earmarked for racing home from work and changing into something properly somber, before fleeing the scene and heading for Haven’s front yard where Charm’s memorial service will be held.

“Ever?” He climbs out of his shiny silver Prius, jangling his keys and squinting at me. “What are you doing here?” He tilts his head as he approaches, enveloping me in a cloud of Axe bodyspray.

I sling my bag over my shoulder, slamming my car door much harder than planned. “Funny thing. I—um—I actually live here.”

He looks at me, face so still I’m not sure he heard until he shakes his head and repeats, “You live here?”

I nod, refusing to say anything more.

“But—” He gazes around, taking in the stone façade, the front steps, the recently clipped lawn, the beds of flowers beginning to bloom. “But this is Sabine’s house—isn’t it?”

I pause, tempted to tell him no, that this faux Tuscan, Laguna Beach McMansion isn’t Sabine’s house at all. That he’s obviously made some kind of mistake and ended up at my house instead.

But just as I’m about to, Sabine pulls right up beside us. Jumping out of her car with way too much enthusiasm when she says, “Oh! Paul! So sorry I’m late—the office was crazy and every time I tried to leave something else got in the way—” She shakes her head, gazing up at him in a way that’s far too flirtatious for a first date. “But if you could just give me a minute, I’ll run upstairs and change so we can get going. It shouldn’t take long.”

Paul?

I glance between them, noting her happy, lilting, singsongy tone, and not liking the sound of it, not liking it at all. It’s too intimate. Too forward. She should be forced to call him Mr. Munoz like we do at school. At least until the end of tonight, after which, of course, they’ll mutually decide to go their separate ways...

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