Blood of Zeus (Blood of Zeus #1) - Meredith Wild Page 0,25

take a stride forward and yank up the sleeve of his T-shirt, where tiny red blood stains mark what I created moments before. Except nothing is there but smooth skin.

He brushes me away and takes another step back. “You need to go, Kara.”

“No.” It falls out before I can stop it, but it’s more a sound of astonishment than rebellion.

“Kara.”

“No,” I repeat. “Not until you tell me—”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t even start—”

“You…healed.”

He averts his eyes. “And you haven’t. Another reason this needs to stop.”

The storm inside me is raging. The lingering physical desire is going to war with the need to know more about him.

“You can’t hurt me,” I insist.

“Seems like I can.”

“Not the way you think.” I turn and size up the Kara-sized imprint indented into the brick. True enough, a human my size might not have fared so well. I face him again. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you? What’s really going on with you?”

He’s quiet. His back is to me, his frame both impressive and intimidating, even as his breathing evens out. My purse has fallen to the floor, and he bends down to pick it up before slowly pivoting to me. He hands it to me. I take it even though it’s a call for me to leave.

More tense seconds pass before he finally speaks. His posture is rigid, his expression too. “You want to know what’s going on with me?”

The low and ominous tone sends a shiver of dread through me. Then I notice his hands are shaking.

“Yes,” I whisper, though suddenly I’m not sure I do.

“When I was eight years old, I paralyzed my best friend because I didn’t know what I was capable of…what kind of violence is inside me. It didn’t stop there.” He closes his eyes briefly—long enough for a deep V to form between his brows. “Every day of my life is about control. And that control doesn’t exist when I’m this close to you. I’ll never make that mistake again. If I unleash that shit on you, I’ll never be able to live with myself. So please, Kara. For both of our sakes, please, just go.”

Chapter Ten

Maximus

After defying me again and again, she did exactly what I wanted. That doesn’t mean, in the six hours since, that I’m any happier about it. The essays I have yet to grade are still glaring at me, courtesy of the blinking cursor on my laptop, waiting for my digital red pen. Any attempts to distract myself have failed miserably—from books, my soul’s true escape, or even the sight of the slightly smashed bricks in my wall, bearing a disturbingly familiar outline.

Instead, I’ve been pacing. From one end of my apartment to the other. I stopped counting the laps at around a hundred. Why does it even matter?

Around midnight, I quit long enough to wipe out the last two slices of pizza. I’d debated whether to take the pizza downstairs to Jesse, a pathetic excuse to seek advice I’m not sure I need. He always gets the last piece. It’s tradition with us. But when Kara showed up, he rolled out of here like his chair had rockets. Didn’t stop him from flinging me a zinger of a smirk as he did. Can’t say I blame him. Not with Kara appearing like she did, freshly tanned and smelling like sunshine and cinnamon. In two seconds, the guy’s look had conveyed a thousand direct messages.

You know where to find me when you’re done, dude.

But you’d better not be done until tomorrow morning.

Just a reminder: I’m only three floors down from you.

Kara’s parting look was far more devastating. She left without a word, as if she knew her sad silence would wreck me. I almost wonder if she could foresee my restless pacing and fighting as I deal with what I told her—what, in her eyes, amounted to a crap excuse for a confusing condition.

A confusion I’m still struggling with. Still reaching for answers that aren’t there…that have never been there. Long ago, I resigned myself to not ever knowing. To hiding the monster inside for the rest of my life.

So why the hell am I still so conflicted about it? And, down to this second, pacing over it? I already have my answer. Kara’s woken up all the instincts. The fire. Even the violence. Except she isn’t horrified. Not by any of it. She doesn’t think I’m a monster. She’s not pushing back with fear. She’s shoving back with