past and tell him about her mother. She couldn’t explain why, but she needed to do this.
But before she got the chance, he rolled her onto her back, his long raven hair tickling her cheeks, those black eyes piercing hers with emotion. “Cassandra,” he said softly. “Do you know how much I—?” The wind gusted through the window, permeating the curtains and splattering rain onto the tiled kitchen floor.
Michael went ramrod stiff, the confession he’d been about to make lost to the interruption, leaving Cassandra hanging on his words. A second gust of wind shot through the window, unnatural, like a demand. That gust confirmed in her mind that whatever was happening was created by “someone,” not the “something” of Mother Nature.
Further confirmation came with Michael’s reaction. “Stay here,” he ordered, not waiting for a reply. This was the soldier she knew as part of him, and that soldier wasn’t in “welcome” mode. He was dressed in seconds and out the door, pulling it shut behind him.
Cassandra slipped on her tank top and shorts, foregoing her shoes out of urgency. Unexplainable dread twisted in her gut, a sense of unease inside her that pulsed with life as she peered through the curtains. Adam and Michael stood outside facing each other, the wind whistling briskly around them—and as she had discovered these past months, the wind did not move, certainly did not whistle, unless Michael allowed it to do so. No one else had that power. Until now, she’d assumed his fellow GTECHs knew that, but she wasn’t so sure. Because either Michael was concealing his ability, or he was too pissed to bother with controlling the wind. Or both. Adam set Michael on edge. She’d seen it when they were together, sensed it with the simple mention of Adam’s name. Caleb was another story. Michael’s admiration for him was clear.
Michael knew Adam was X2 positive, and he knew Caleb was not. If Michael knew that he himself was X2 positive, he’d think he was like Adam, and she wasn’t going to let that happen. As much as she feared losing the hard-earned trust between them, she had come to know she loved Michael, too much to see him condemn himself unfairly. The wind shifted, pressing against the window. It was then that Caleb appeared, and Cassandra felt a sense of relief that was short-lived. Even without sound, it was clear from the body language and expressions that while Michael listened intently, Adam and Caleb were in a heated exchange. When finally Caleb and Adam departed, Michael walked back to her, his face grim, far more turbulent than the storm now passed; she felt her stomach twist with the certainty that something was terribly wrong.
Her hand shook as she opened the door to greet him. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She moved back into the kitchen to allow him to enter. He stayed on the patio, distant, and not just physically. “Michael?”
He grabbed her then and pulled her to him, hands laced in her hair. “No matter what happens to me,” he said, “do not tell anyone you wear my mark.”
“What?” she gasped. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Promise me, Cassandra. No matter what. No matter how things seem, you stay silent.”
“I… okay. Yes. We already agreed I—” He kissed her then, swallowing her objections in a deep, passionate, I-really-care-about-you, but I’m-saying-good-bye kind of kiss that ended with him fading into the wind.
Her eyes prickled, dampness clinging to her cheeks. Because wherever Michael had gone, he didn’t believe he was coming back.
Chapter 4
Monday morning, dressed for work, her purse on her shoulder, Cassandra was in heavy pursuit of her keys, which she’d somehow misplaced, when she stepped into the slim hallway leading to the living room and stopped dead in her tracks. The scent, so uniquely Michael, laced the air.
A memory took shape in the shadowy recesses of her mind—of waking up with a tingle at the back of her neck that
But before she got the chance, he rolled her onto her back, his long raven hair tickling her cheeks, those black eyes piercing hers with emotion. “Cassandra,” he said softly. “Do you know how much I—?” The wind gusted through the window, permeating the curtains and splattering rain onto the tiled kitchen floor.
Michael went ramrod stiff, the confession he’d been about to make lost to the interruption, leaving Cassandra hanging on his words. A second gust of wind shot through the window, unnatural, like a demand. That gust confirmed in her mind that whatever was happening was created by “someone,” not the “something” of Mother Nature.
Further confirmation came with Michael’s reaction. “Stay here,” he ordered, not waiting for a reply. This was the soldier she knew as part of him, and that soldier wasn’t in “welcome” mode. He was dressed in seconds and out the door, pulling it shut behind him.
Cassandra slipped on her tank top and shorts, foregoing her shoes out of urgency. Unexplainable dread twisted in her gut, a sense of unease inside her that pulsed with life as she peered through the curtains. Adam and Michael stood outside facing each other, the wind whistling briskly around them—and as she had discovered these past months, the wind did not move, certainly did not whistle, unless Michael allowed it to do so. No one else had that power. Until now, she’d assumed his fellow GTECHs knew that, but she wasn’t so sure. Because either Michael was concealing his ability, or he was too pissed to bother with controlling the wind. Or both. Adam set Michael on edge. She’d seen it when they were together, sensed it with the simple mention of Adam’s name. Caleb was another story. Michael’s admiration for him was clear.
Michael knew Adam was X2 positive, and he knew Caleb was not. If Michael knew that he himself was X2 positive, he’d think he was like Adam, and she wasn’t going to let that happen. As much as she feared losing the hard-earned trust between them, she had come to know she loved Michael, too much to see him condemn himself unfairly. The wind shifted, pressing against the window. It was then that Caleb appeared, and Cassandra felt a sense of relief that was short-lived. Even without sound, it was clear from the body language and expressions that while Michael listened intently, Adam and Caleb were in a heated exchange. When finally Caleb and Adam departed, Michael walked back to her, his face grim, far more turbulent than the storm now passed; she felt her stomach twist with the certainty that something was terribly wrong.
Her hand shook as she opened the door to greet him. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She moved back into the kitchen to allow him to enter. He stayed on the patio, distant, and not just physically. “Michael?”
He grabbed her then and pulled her to him, hands laced in her hair. “No matter what happens to me,” he said, “do not tell anyone you wear my mark.”
“What?” she gasped. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Promise me, Cassandra. No matter what. No matter how things seem, you stay silent.”
“I… okay. Yes. We already agreed I—” He kissed her then, swallowing her objections in a deep, passionate, I-really-care-about-you, but I’m-saying-good-bye kind of kiss that ended with him fading into the wind.
Her eyes prickled, dampness clinging to her cheeks. Because wherever Michael had gone, he didn’t believe he was coming back.
Chapter 4
Monday morning, dressed for work, her purse on her shoulder, Cassandra was in heavy pursuit of her keys, which she’d somehow misplaced, when she stepped into the slim hallway leading to the living room and stopped dead in her tracks. The scent, so uniquely Michael, laced the air.
A memory took shape in the shadowy recesses of her mind—of waking up with a tingle at the back of her neck that
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