Page 78 of Fractured Fates

He chuckles. “No, I’m offering you a ride.”

“Are you sure it’s safe? I hear there’s a price on my head,” I say with a serious lacing of sarcasm.

The man in black’s jaw stiffens again. “Where did you hear that?”

“Stone told me. I guess he saw how desperate I was to leave this place.”

“Come on then,” the man says, holding out his hand to me. “Let’s go.”

I take his hand in mine, ignoring the tingles his grip ignites on my skin and let him pull me to my feet. Studying him, for one long minute I debate what to do. Escaping the college grounds, cruising on the back of his bike, is severely tempting. I can’t refuse it.

I probably need permission to go off campus with him, but I’m already in shit for skipping classes today so screw it.

“Okay,” I tell him, gathering Pip up in my arms and depositing him safely inside my dorm room. I make Winnie swear on her grandmother’s life that she won’t let him out of her sight. I can tell she isn’t best pleased about me heading off with the fuck-off scary-looking man lingering at my shoulder, but she’s too petrified to voice her qualms.

Not until he’s stepped out of the dormitory. Then she grabs my arm and whispers in my ear, “That isn’t … that isn’t the man in black, is it?”

I simply smile at her and then I’m at the door and following him down the path before anyone can stop us.

At his bike, he tries to force his helmet on my head, but I wave him off.

“Suit yourself,” he says, casting it to one side, “but don’t come complaining to me when your brains are omelets on the side of the road.”

“Are you planning to crash?” I ask him, resting my hand on my hip.

His dark eyes sail down my body and I repress a shiver. Two weeks of regular meals plus the latest batch of goodies sent from Winnie’s family, means there’s more meat to my bones. Does he notice?

“I’m planning on going fucking fast. You’re going to need to hold on to me. Tight.”

I look away from him, not wanting him to know how much the idea of that turns me on.

My aunt was right to keep me away from men. It seems I am attracted to completely the wrong ones. And judging by whatever just happened out there in the forest, lacking a serious amount of self-control.

He kicks the stand away from his bike, righting it with his right arm and swinging his left leg over the saddle. Then he glances over to me, jerking his head in an invitation to join him.

Every part of my body stirs. The way he looks at me – fuck, the way he looks full stop – makes me feel as if electricity is pulsing through me.

I stroll up to the bike, knowing he’s watching me, and climb up behind him, scooting forward so I’m flush against his back and wrapping my arms around his wide chest, his heart beating beneath my palms.

“Why were you using your magic tonight? Out there in the wood?”

“Someone – or something – attacked me.”

“You don’t look hurt.”

“It didn’t hurt me … it …. I got away.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You never saw whatever it was before?”

“No, that’s it, I couldn’t see it at all. It was invisible.”

“Hmmm,” he says, then revs up the engine and we’re away. He weaves down the wide driveway of the college, down the hill and then we’re out on the road that brought me here two weeks ago. The stars are bright above my head, and when I tip my head back to look at them more and more appear, one by one by one, until the heavens are a blanket of twinkling lights.

The man in black leans on the gas and the bike darts forward, shooting us along the road. I grip him tighter with my thighs and with my arms, feeling him warm against my skin. The wind batters through my hair, assaulting my face so that tears run down my cheeks.