Wilde Storm Read online

  Food for thought.

  “You’re gorgeous and smart and all the things the boys like. Someone is going to come sniffing around your door soon enough,” she said.

  I swung my feet off the side of the bed. “Sure. Because we live in Princess Land. I need to shower.” I grabbed my towel and rummaged through my drawers to pull out some leggings and a long t-shirt.

  By now, Cass had sat up and was grinning at me. “Some things never change.”

  I shook my leggings at her. “Never ruin a good thing.”

  The water sluiced over my skin, easing the tenderness from my muscles. I sighed in relief and took the time to lather up my ridiculously long hair. If I shaved it, I wondered if it would all grow back the next day. Not that I would, but it had already been a pain in the ass to care of. Now, it was even worse.

  Once I finished, I wiped the dampness off the mirror and stared at my fuzzy image. I was so terribly different, yet very much the same. Just a few short weeks ago, I’d been oblivious. I was working a job that paid me enough, I could eat out when I wanted, and even had cable.

  Now, I had a small dorm room and immortality.

  I wasn’t so sure I’d gotten the better end of the deal. I’d forsaken my privacy and all that came with it to live in this compound and learn to work for my father. So far, all it had earned me was heartache and a near death experience. After I’d chafed at the reins a little bit, my father had loosened the policy of off-site trips, which had promptly landed me into serious trouble. I was surprised to see he hadn’t restricted them again, so maybe he was coming around. People can be dedicated, but everyone needed a little time to burn off some steam.

  I dressed quickly and wrapped a towel around my head before opening the door.

  When I stepped into my room, Cass was gone and Aaron was lying in my bed with a somber expression burning in his emerald gaze.

  “Get out,” I said flatly.

  “No,” he returned just as flat.

  “Eventually, I’m going to kill you, and I fear very much that I’m going to enjoy it.”

  A ghost of a smile flickered over his mouth. “And I fear very much that I’d have to lie there and take it unless I wanted to die of poisoning.”

  I grinned fiercely. “Ah, a failsafe. I like failsafes. Now, get out.”

  Aaron laced his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. He’d had the courtesy to kick off his shoes at least.

  What a gentleman.

  “I want to talk, Penelope Wilde.”

  My heart clenched when he said my full name. I’d met Aaron on my very first time travel foray. He’d been my skydiving instructor. Handsome, witty, charming, and a little bit taken aback by my forthright ways. What could I say? I was about to be immortal and wanted to live like a rock star. He’d managed to ruin our first coffee date by introducing me to Lila and almost getting me killed.

  I stared at him. He was still just as handsome. Blond surfer good looks, a lean, finely muscled body, a wide smile, and brilliant emerald green eyes.

  He also tried to kill me.

  “What could we possibly have to talk about?” I turned away from him and took the towel off, rubbing it briskly over my hair to soak up the excess water.

  “Your hair is longer,” he mused. “Much longer.”

  “If we’re going to talk about my hair, I use a coconut and castor oil concoction once a week. It keeps my locks long and lustrous. Now. Get. Out.”

  He made no move. “I’ll remember the coconut oil tip, but sadly fear it may be a while before I have locks as lustrous as yours.”

  I would not smile. I would not.

  I sprayed an argan oil detangler in my hair and began the slow, methodical process of brushing it out. I could feel Aaron’s eyes on me, following each stroke of the brush, and my thoughts went unbidden to the time he’d turned me on talking about the mating habits of wild animals. I blew out a silent, slow breath and tried to remember the dude who’d left me for dead on a gurney.

  “I wanted to explain—” he began.

  “No need,” I cut him off shortly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You certainly are,” I said, and turned on the blow dryer.

  Aaron still lay back on my bed, watching me. I caught his eyes in the mirror as I meticulously brushed through my hair and dried it as well as I could while trying to keep the curl out. It was one thing I wished I hadn’t gotten from my father. This wild ass weird ebony hair. My mother had long, beautiful, inky black hair, but I wasn’t blessed with her DNA on this one. I’d gotten my Caucasian father’s curly thick hair.

  Aaron sat up and swung his feet over the edge of my bed. I steeled myself for battle, but he stepped over to me and took both the dryer and brush from my hand. I thought he was going to turn it off and put it away, but he merely turned my head around and began to brush and dry my hair. I froze like a rabbit exposed to headlights. He said nothing, not that I could hear him over the blare of the dryer.

  And with each slow slide of the brush and his fingers slipping through my locks, I felt relaxed and calm.

  And ridiculously turned on. Every muscle in my body was tense. Everything inside me was screaming he was the predator and I the prey.

  But it felt so good and it had been so long since someone had touched me in a tender manner, I didn’t stop him.

  “This is going to take you forever,” I said after a moment, loud enough so he could hear me.

  His gaze flicked briefly to mine and away, as if I would run away if he stared at me for too long. He was reading me correctly. “I have the time, Penelope Wilde.”

  After a few minutes, he gracefully snagged the desk chair with his foot and pulled it over. He positioned it beside me and gently pressed my shoulder to tell me to sit.

  I did.

  Every girl should have her hair brushed by a man. Every girl should feel so protected and cared for.

  I didn’t know why he was doing it. The pessimistic part of me wondered if he was just trying to get me to relax so he could slit my throat. But the part of my heart he’d always managed to touch came alive at his tender ministrations. The brush flowed in and out and his fingers would occasionally flicker over my neck and ears. The warmth in his touch and the warmth of the air became intoxicating. My breathing became relaxed and my eyes shut for a moment.

  I never wanted this to stop.

  But all good things must end. Eventually, Aaron turned down the dryer to cool and blasted my hair with it while still folding the brush down and under to make sure it straightened. How he knew to do that, I had no idea, and suddenly, I began to wonder if he were gay.

  “My mother,” he murmured quietly as he noticed my quizzical stare.

  “Pardon?” I said in confusion.

  “I used to brush my mother’s hair when her Parkinson’s became too much to deal with. She always reminded me to finish off with cool air so it would lock in the shine.” A soft smile played over his mouth.

  “Oh, Aaron,” I said softly and touched his hand. “Thank you.”

  He turned off the dryer and put it back in its holder. His fingers sifted through my hair. “Your hair is gorgeous. Long and exotic.” His gaze flicked back to me. “Like you.”

  I sucked in a breath. And then remembered who he was.

  “Well, it was kind of you to do that for me, but I still would like you to go.”

  He nodded. “I thought you might.” He offered his hand to help me up from the chair. I accepted because I thought he would leave sooner.

  “I have much to say to you. And say it, I will. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon.”

  He showed himself out of my room.

  It wasn’t until much later that I glimpsed at my hair in the mirror and marveled that he’d done a better job of it than I ever had.

  4

  Masters was waiting for me at our usual table when I meandered into the cafeteria twenty minutes later than normal.

  He gestured for me to sit and his eyes n
arrowed as he saw my unbound hair.

  “What’s that all about?” he asked, pointing to it with his dirty fork.

  I always wore my hair up in a bun or ponytail. But today, it was so soft and shiny and taken care of, I’d wanted to show it off. And pray I didn’t run into Aaron, who would know the reason behind my vanity.

  “Just wanted a change.”

  Masters grunted and shoved another bite of meatloaf into his mouth.

  I snickered. He could be a good conversationalist when he wanted, but it wasn’t often he wanted. Today was one of those days. We’d sit and eat in companionable silence and then he’d wander off to be by himself and I’d spend the rest of the night in my room reading. It wasn’t a bad way to exist and I’d had enough adventure already to last me until the end of my days. Plus, I still wasn’t feeling completely like myself even though my hangover was long gone.

  I sipped a glass of water and picked at the meatloaf. It was my least favorite thing on the menu, but once a week, one of the cafeteria servers would slap a piece of the unrecognizable meat and its brown gravy counterpart onto my tray. On those nights, I tended to fill up on bread, carrots, and water. I would have loved to have a better meal, but I still had no car to drive into Austin and didn’t have the energy to call a cab.

  “Do you think you could ever forgive someone who once betrayed you?” I asked, not expecting Masters to answer. I kept my eyes on my carrots and rolled them around in their sauce.

  The sounds of his eating paused. “You forgave me,” he reminded me.

  “I didn’t really forgive you. I just figured out your end game and helped you see the light. I knew you weren’t a bad person.”

  He grunted again and focused on his meatloaf.

  Damn that Masters. He’d made me answer my own question. I was so easy to forgive Cass, but I wasn’t ready to listen to Aaron yet. He’d betrayed not only me, but my father, Watson, and Masters. And his betrayal was still costing people their lives. His theft of the serum made no sense.

  Unless…

  I dropped my fork and my gaze flew to Masters. “He didn’t care about the immortality!” I whispered in awe. “He cared about the cellular regeneration and saw it as a building block.” I was careful to keep my voice down because prying ears were everywhere.

  Masters stared at me, but there was a furrow between his brows as he processed my words. I knew as soon as he understood.

  I nodded. “If we can put our research together, we can heal your daughter.” I slapped a hand to my cheek. “We could heal the world,” I whispered.

  “Let’s just maybe focus on my little girl first.” He put down his fork and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “What do we need to do?”

  I finished eating my carrots in a hurry and led Masters down to the wing where I knew Aaron was staying. I stopped in front of his door and listened in. The only sounds were those of either a radio or television.

  I couldn’t tell which, but it didn’t matter. I knocked furiously on the door and when he didn’t respond right away, I knocked again. Moments later, the door flung open and a dripping wet Aaron stood there wearing only a towel loosely draped around his waist and a scowl.

  “Errmmm,” I said, and couldn’t manage to close my mouth. “Ummm. Hmmm.”

  Masters shoved me out of the way. “Dude. Put some clothes on so Penelope can get her shit together and then let us in so we can talk.”

  One blond eyebrow quirked and the ghost of a smile played over his face as he looked my way.

  I was such a dork. I forced myself to shut my mouth and gathered my face into something resembling a glare.

  But it was too late. He’d seen right past me.

  “If Penelope wants to come in and watch, she can,” he shot back and left the door ajar as he walked to the back of his room.

  “You deserved that,” Masters said in his slow, quiet voice. “Quit staring and buck up before I force you back to your rooms.”

  “Shut up,” I hissed, stepping into the room.

  There wasn’t much to look at. A small couch, a rickety table, and a small television sat in what was supposed to pass for his living room. There was a dorm-sized fridge and an ancient microwave. A single glass sat at the edge of the sink. He’d just moved in, so I wasn’t expecting much, but he was a grown man and this…this was a college dorm.

  I pressed my lips together and wondered why I was feeling empathy for a man I was supposed to hate.

  Unfortunately, I knew and had experienced the fact that we all had stories.

  And sometimes those stories weren’t pretty or thoughtful or even all that good.

  Once Aaron had divulged his mother’s condition and his experimentation with the serum, I thought I might have had a good idea why he’d betrayed me.

  We spent an awkward few minutes standing around the tiny room when Aaron emerged barefoot dressed in jeans and a green t-shirt. His hair was still wet and stood up in ragged spikes.

  He’d never looked more delectable to me.

  I wanted to smack myself.

  He offered us a glass of water, which we both declined, and leaned against the side of his small counter. I felt uncomfortable under the weight of that emerald green stare, but I stayed silent.

  “I’m assuming this is not a social call,” Aaron said once I wanted to scream and break the silence.

  Masters took the lead. “Penelope thinks you can help my daughter.”

  Well then. Nice, blunt, and right on topic.

  Aaron’s gaze flicked to mine. “She does? And why’s that?”

  But I’d seen the look in his eyes—relief and a hint of fear. He knew I’d figured him out.

  I cleared my throat. “I think you were less concerned about the immortality aspect of the serum and more concerned with the capability of cellular regeneration.”

  He didn’t move an inch or betray himself. “Everyone wants immortality, Penelope. Why would I not want that?”

  My lips thinned. “Everyone thinks they want immortality,” I corrected. “What everyone really wants is health.”

  “Do they?” he wondered aloud.

  I blew out a breath of frustration. “Stop screwing around. You know about Masters’ daughter. Can you help?”

  Masters stood there unassuming and quiet, but I could sense he was coiled, too tight, like a guitar string about to snap. I knew I would eventually be able to crack the code and help his daughter, but Aaron had managed to get much further than I in a shorter amount of time. I was almost jealous.

  Aaron glanced at Masters and after a length of time where I began to wonder if he was actually going to say no, he reached over and clapped Masters on the shoulder. “Of course I can.”

  The fight went right out of my friend and he took a long, shuddering breath. I looked away. It wasn’t the right time to offer any words. It was the right time for action.

  “Good,” I said. “We can start in the morning.”

  Aaron nodded. “You’re okay with working that closely with me for the next few weeks, Penelope Wilde?”

  My mouth quirked and I swallowed down the smile threatening to break over my face. “Maybe. As long as you stop using my first and last names together like a complete weirdo.”

  Masters rolled his eyes. “It’s settled then.” He scraped a hand over his rough five o’clock shadow. “Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, man.”

  Masters turned and left the room, leaving us both watching him walk away.

  “That right there is one taciturn dude,” Aaron remarked.

  “And a concerned father.” I turned to trail after Masters. “Thanks.”

  “You don’t have to leave right now,” he said.

  “I do. Have a good afternoon, Aaron.”

  I could feel him watching me even after I shut his door softly behind me.

  I spent the rest of the day watching bad television and catching up on some reading. Ever since my accident, my father hadn’t made me conform to any set schedule of training o
r education. Watson had been informally assigned as my sparring partner and instructor, but since that day, I no longer went to classes with my squad. I didn’t mind considering I never wanted to be on a team in the first place, but it did make for some lonely days. Occasionally, Watson would pop in, tell me to get dressed, and take me down to the library for some formal education on the Time Wardens. I guess formal was a pretty strong word when it was mostly him forcing my brain open and spoon feeding facts into it. I knew he was a great teacher, but he was more of a man of action. Great sparring instructor, not so great with the book learning. But I never once doubted his intellect or took any offense at his teaching methods. I had an excellent memory, so I retained the facts he shared with me, but I had to admit I was bored to ever-loving tears and came back to my room with sandy eyes and a headache most times.

  I would eventually have to approach my father and see about either getting back into classes or getting instructors assigned to me. I didn’t want to do either, but I also didn’t want to have memorization as my only classes. I liked to learn as long as it was fun and I saw a point to it.

  Around eight, a soft knock sounded on my door. I looked through the peephole and saw Cass there, so I opened it to let her in.

  She was dressed in black leggings, high heels, and a white, flowy camisole. Her long blonde hair had been tamed into a high ponytail and she was wearing more makeup than usual.

  “No,” I said immediately, sensing why she was here.

  A startled laugh bubbled from her. “You don’t even know what I’m going to ask!”

  “I do know. That’s why I’m saying no.”

  I took a few steps and plopped onto the couch.

  “Come on,” she pleaded. “It’s just a couple drinks. Several of us are going.”

  “Do you remember the last time you and I went out for just a couple drinks?”

  It was the wrong thing to say and I knew it.

  Hurt flashed over her face as well as embarrassment and a little bit of anger. “I remember,” she said shortly. “And I’m sorry for it. If I could change it, I would.”