Part 12 (1/2)

I nod.

He takes a deep breath and steels himself. ”Last month my pa made me take a twelve-year-old boy to the Riders. The kid ...” His jaw tightens. ”The kid wet himself when I carried him to their truck.” He looks into my face, his eyes s.h.i.+ning with unshed tears. ”He cried my name as they drove away.”

”Kody,” I whisper.

Clay sniffs and stares into the dancing blue and orange flames of the fire, the veins tight cords on his neck. ”I'll see his face forever. Knowing what I did to him ...” He curses and tugs at his hair angrily. Then he lifts his sorrowful face to me. ”That day I swore I'd never trade another human being. That I'd get out.”

I pull my knees up to my chest and think about Clay handing over the boy to the Riders. It's awful. Then again, if my dad was the Sheriff, would I have done any different? Having Arn's death on my hands is bad enough, but I didn't actually kill him. What must it be like for Clay to carry that kind of guilt around?

The raw emotion hangs over the fire like a cloud. For several moments we sit in silence as the fire dies down. The hog legs emit a delicious aroma, but right now I don't feel like eating.

Finally, Clay walks forward as if unstuck. Some of the wildness has fallen off him. ”We need to eat,” he says handing me my portion of meat.

I take it from him. My stomach grumbles at the smell. Maybe I can eat.

Clay kicks dirt over the fire until it sizzles. ”Come on. We'll eat in the Jeep.”

We slide into the Jeep, Clay in the driver's side, me in the pa.s.senger seat. Normally, I'd fuss. It's my Jeep. But, surprisingly, I don't mind. Maybe I'm starting to trust Clay. Maybe I'm grateful he's rescued us again. Either way, I'm looking over at Clay and smiling as he's carefully holding the hot meat with the pads of his fingers. I shouldn't trust this much. I'm worth enough for even a good man to lose his scruples. I pull the zipper on my coat all the way up to my throat.

I check on Ethan. He's tucked into the back of the Jeep, the blanket I curled around him still in the exact position I placed it. He better wake up tomorrow or we have real problems.

I'm thinking about Ethan when Clay's voice cuts through my thoughts. ”Your turn.”

”Huh?”

”You didn't think that back story was free, did ya?” He's smiling for the first time in a while. ”Your turn to answer my questions.” He takes a bite of his hog leg, the grease s.h.i.+ning on his lips and chin.

I concentrate on not burning my fingers on my own leg, unable to meet his gaze.

”Let's see,” he says. ”Where to start? How about explaining your aunt to me. She seems ... interesting.”

”Auntie's wonderful,” I say, a bit indignant. Then I think of her bas.h.i.+ng the cupboard to capture the bat. ”She's a bit off, but she loves us. She makes fantastic cornbread.” I take a bite of the leg and the savory roasted meat fills my mouth. I don't realize I'm smiling until I wipe the corners of my mouth on the sleeve of my jacket. How long has it been since I've smiled like this?

”How'd you keep your ma a secret for so long?” Clay eyes trace a falling star streaking across the dark blue sky.

The smile drops from my face. This question is not one I want to answer. It touches too close to my secret.

”Oh, you know, traveling around a lot.” My next bite is huge, filling my mouth.

”Had to be more than that,” Clay says, watching me. ”Breeders have spies everywhere. Had to be hard to keep her hid.”

I turn my eyes to the stars and note the constellation Andromeda. My mother called her the chained lady. Where is my mother tonight?

”We did everything we could to keep her free. In the end it wasn't enough, was it?” Now it's my turn to slip my eyes away, the emotion welling up, choking me.

Clay's eyes linger somewhere in the stars. ”I lost my ma, too.”

”What happened to her?” I ask, s.h.i.+fting to face him.

He sighs, still looking up. ”I was too young to remember, but my pa said the Breeders just came for her one day. Said if he didn't give her up, they'd kill the whole town. Guess they pack a lot of firepower, weapons we ain't even seen. So,” he blows out his breath, ”he gave her up. My pa don't get emotional, but sometimes I see him lookin' out and I know he's thinking about her, the only woman he ever cared about.”

I nod and let the silence hang around us. We sit and look out at the stars and think of our mothers. Could they be together? The thought gives me a little comfort.

Clay turns to me, his face set in rea.s.surance. ”We'll get to your ma.” His voice is so kind.

I nod. ”Yours, too.” There it is again, that warm feeling that floods me when he gives me that look-eyes sparkling, smile comforting. A burn runs up my cheeks.

I miss the first words Clay says as my thoughts spin. ”Huh?”

”I said, what's it like being a bender?”

I scan Clay's face for malice, but he's just curious. I'm curious about benders, too, never having met one. I swallow hard. ”People don't look at you the same. It's pretty ... lonely.”

Clay finishes his hog leg. He chucks the bone off in the distance. He scoots down in the driver seat, a revolver over his lap and stares sleepy-eyed over the moonlit landscape. ”Good talk, but I'm tuckered. Can you take the first s.h.i.+ft?”

He falls asleep within seconds, his hat down over his face, his revolvers hugged tight to his chest.

I let my eyes wander to the crescent moon hung in the sprinkle of stars. Alone with my thoughts again. I expect that they'll turn to Mom or Auntie, but they keep turning to Clay. The way his mouth turns up in his sleep. The moonlight in his brown hair. Before I know it, I'm watching the rise and fall of his chest. I turn my eyes to the road and try desperately not to think of the boy murmuring softly beside me.

Chapter Thirteen.

I wake to a strange sweet smell, distant and musky. I nuzzle closer, my cheek rubbing against the warmth. It smells like home.

My eyes flicker open. My face rests on the soft suede of a worn leather jacket. It rises and falls rhythmically. My eyes fly wide open. My cheek rests on Clay's chest, my body pressed to his across the Jeep seat.

I snap upright, the panic skidding through me. What've I done? I was supposed to keep watch, not cuddle. My jerking wakes him and he blinks at me.

”Mornin',” he mumbles. He rolls over and goes back to gently snoring.

He doesn't know. Relief floods me as I slump back in my seat. I must've just fallen asleep and snuggled into him for warmth. Yeah, right, warmth.

With my heart pounding, there's no way I'll fall back to sleep. Looking back, I find Ethan in the same spot. I slip my hand under his nose and feel the soft puffs of breath against the pads of my fingers. Satisfied, my eyes travel over the first lights of dawn stretching out over the rocky landscape. I slide out of the Jeep and take off toward the pink horizon. I hike over the dusty ridges, trying to shake off my unease. I spot a large clump of cactus that will give enough cover as I empty my bladder. Up ahead a roadrunner skitters across the sand, his legs pumping into a blur as he darts over the hard pan. A lizard bolts under a rock as I approach. Dawn is a busy time in the desert. I need to be careful.

I drop my pants and duck down behind the bush. I try to keep my mind on the sounds of the desert, but it keeps turning elsewhere. Mostly back to the Jeep. My brother is still knocked out, and if Bennett weren't already dead, I'd think about killing him. What if Ethan doesn't wake up? I know Clay cares about Ethan, but what lengths would he go to save his life?

Then there's Clay. G.o.d-Clay. I've developed a pretty severe crush on him. It's impossible not to. He's handsome, talented, kind and smart. The reasons not to like him are weighty, but I find myself coming up with excuses for his past. After all, he can't help how he was raised.

The real reason you shouldn't like him, the voice inside pipes up, is he thinks you're a bender. That if you told him you were a girl, he'd turn you in faster than you can say ”horrible scientific experiments.”

I want to tell myself to shut up, that he's not the type, but I can't. I'm worth a lifetime's salary. Even if he doesn't turn me in and actually wants to be with me, he'd have to devote the rest of his life to protecting me from, well, every other person in the world. It's a lot to ask.

I'm still contemplating all this when Clay calls my name. I snap upright and almost pee on my boots. I pull my pants around my waist and spin around, hoping Clay hasn't seen.

He's running to me at a full clip. My heart pounds again. Why is he sprinting? I run. ”What?” I say, breathless. ”What is it?”