Hotbloods (Hotbloods #1)(20)

There, half in the trees, half out, was a beautiful, perfectly circular globe, bathed in the silvery glow of glinting moonbeams. It was large, the back end buried in the edge of the wood, though still managing to take up a quarter of the yard itself. Letting my eyes drift over it, I felt my jaw drop.

The design was sleek and elegant, and unquestionably foreign. Had it been a solid block of metal, it probably could have passed itself off as a human-made sculpture, but this was something else entirely. The outside looked as though it should mirror its surroundings, but it didn’t. Light seemed to dance off it, and the reflection of the trees could not be seen within the polished metal of the globe. The normal rules of physics didn’t appear to apply; I didn’t know whether to be impressed or afraid.

My eyes traveled over the top curve of the globe, and I had to clamp my hands over my mouth to keep from gasping. Sitting atop the silvery surface was a figure, almost entirely camouflaged by the darkness. Where my skin reflected light, his seemed to absorb it. He was turned toward the woods, his upper body bare. His shoulders were sloped, his dark wings out, framing the scarred gray skin of his muscular back as they hung by his sides, his head bowed. Navan.

I watched him breathlessly, trying to keep my nerves at bay. He hadn’t seen me yet, at least. I just thanked God I had spotted him in time. Now I needed to back away, and try the front door—I hoped I’d be able to get out that way.

I retreated into the shadows of the doorway, yet something about the sight of him gave me pause. If anything, it was morbid fascination. I wanted to get a look at this creature while his guard was down, while he didn’t know he was being watched.

What are you?

I’d heard the term coldblood, but that didn’t bring me any closer to understanding. If anything, it confused me more, as I remembered the heat that had flooded through me when Navan touched me. These men were hot as hell.

I watched the slight heave and sigh of his broad chest, the only movement he made as he sat up there so still, like some kind of dark predator, waiting for his prey… And yet, his posture exuded a sort of melancholy. Whatever the case, he appeared to be in a different mood than earlier.

What is your story?

Where have you come from?

I wished I knew, but I had run out of time to stand here and stare. I disappeared back into the stifling house, hoping that none of the other ‘coldbloods’ would come out of their rooms as I made my way back along the corridor, toward the front door. As I passed the room where we had first stumbled upon them, I heard the sound of deep breathing—and I guessed the injured guy was asleep after all.

He had been missing a wing, which by pure accident we’d discovered in the creek. Why had it been in the creek to begin with? By now, there was no doubt in my mind that it was one of these guys who had come into the house to re-collect the wing. Possibly Navan, judging by his height. Dammit, as much as I wanted to escape this place, my mind felt like it had been blown open, and I seriously needed answers. Hopefully, the police would help us get to the bottom of this—assuming they didn’t think we were completely insane. At least there had been other witnesses to the wing—Mr. and Mrs. Churnley… not that they were the sanest people in the world.

Reaching the front door, I pulled the bolt to one side and was relieved to find that was enough to open it. I’d been half fearing I would need a key—and that would’ve been a real problem, since I didn’t even have any hairpins on me to attempt to pick a lock.

Easy does it, I thought as I pulled open the door, inch by inch, until there was just enough space to slip through. As I emerged outside, I sucked in a lungful of air while pulling the door shut behind me. I winced, thinking again of my friends. I’m coming back for you, Angie and Lauren, I promise.

Then I bolted. It was dark, with so many trees hanging over this fenced enclosure, but I was too afraid to use my flashlight, in case it drew attention. I just ran, tolerating the scratches I sustained as I brushed past brambles and fallen branches. I kept my eyes focused in the direction of the nearest edge of the fence, which I could just about make out, thanks to the moonlight. My panting was loud in my ears, accompanied by the cooing of an owl somewhere in the treetops above me, and the occasional scurrying of some nocturnal animal in the undergrowth.

Almost there.

What felt like two minutes later, I was barely six feet from the fence. I sprinted ahead with renewed speed, when my ears picked up a different kind of noise. It sounded like…wind being displaced.

Wings beating.

“No!” I gasped, whirling toward the direction of the noise. I didn’t even manage to see the approaching coldblood before it was upon me, an arm binding once again around my waist, crushing my rib cage as my back slammed against a hard chest, and my feet left the ground.

“NO!” I screamed, as the familiar heat surged through my skin from where his body touched mine, making me feel lightheaded. But then the air swiftly left my lungs as we hurtled through the trees at alarming speed, back toward the house.

I wriggled and struggled as much as I could, but the arm held fast. I was expecting him to fly me right through the front door and lock me back up, but instead, he was shooting for the roof. We landed with a thud, and I stumbled, terrified as I scrambled to find my balance on the mossy wooden slats. Once I’d obtained some semblance of stability, I raised my head to find myself face-to-face with Navan.

I cursed silently. Had he heard me running? Maybe his senses had become sharper again, having cooled down outside the house?