Runes: Immortals - Runes: Immortals Part 8
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Runes: Immortals Part 8

"Talk to me, Raine. What happened? Is it because the Norns scrambled his memories?"

I blinked. "You know?"

"Of course I know. I live with the guy. I had to give him directions to the house and school. Have you talked to him about the two of you, your past?"

A delicious shiver shot up my spine. Only one thing had that effect on me. Torin. I glanced over my shoulder at his window. I couldn't see him, but I knew he was watching us. Could he hear us? Even if he couldn't, there was no way I would confide in Andris about my problems with Torin. We weren't close like that.

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"Let me guess. While you were away, you lost interest in him, fell out of love, and decided to go back to that insipid Mortal," Andris said.

His attitude hurt. "No."

"Then what is it? It's obvious Torin is still into you."

"We agreed that the past..." my voice broke. I swallowed and lifted my chin. "The past doesn't matter. I've moved on."

Andris sneered. "You should be trying to help him remember, especially after everything he did for you. Even now, he's still taking chances and sacrificing so much for you, and you, as usual, have no clue."

Panic coursed through me. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you care? You've moved on." He shook his head. "You're an idiot. Torin is ten times the man Seville will ever be." He stepped back then walked to the porch, picked up his empty glass, and threw me a glance full of loathing before disappearing inside their house.

I blew out air. Once again, I glanced up at Torin's bedroom window. I still couldn't see him even though I felt his presence. What did Andris mean? I hated riddles.

Sighing, I went inside my house and headed straight upstairs to change into comfortable clothes and start on my homework. Before I drew the curtains, I glanced across at Torin's. This time I could see him.

He sat on his window, his nose buried in a book, the lock of hair falling across his forehead. "What things are you doing or sacrificing for me?" I asked.

He glanced up and cocked his eyebrows. Funny how he could convey so much with just a look. Right now, his expression said I was bugging him.

"Are you talking to me?" he asked.

"Yes."

He smirked. "Can't keep away from me, can you?"

My cheeks grew warm. "I'm not stalking you, if that's what you're thinking."

"Looks like it from here. I'm sitting here, minding my own business and you-"

"Please, just answer the stupid question and I'll leave you alone."

He laughed. "I'm not sacrificing anything for you, Freckles. Andris is mistaken."

So he'd overheard our conversation. Why would Andris imply something if it weren't true? I'd hate for Torin to put his life in danger again without me knowing about it. He went back to his book, completely ignoring my presence.

I studied him, his chiseled cheekbones and the slope of his strong jaw. My heart squeezed. I missed looking into his teasing sapphire eyes, the wicked grin he'd switch on and off on a whim. I didn't want to walk away from him. From us.

"You're staring," he said without looking up.

I wanted to ignore him, move away from the window, go downstairs, and lick my wounds, but my mouth tended to move faster than my brain. "You wish." He glanced up and smirked. "I'm sitting in my favorite place, and you just happen to be in my line of vision," I added.

He cocked his eyebrows. "From that look in your eyes, you are plotting something. My untimely death perhaps?"

His previous words echoed in my head, "...the girlish crush you think you have on me, it will pass."

"I'd have to care to contemplate hurting you, bonehead. You're nothing to me."

"You know what they say about people who protest too much." The smile on his face broadened. "Just in case you were wondering, the only way to kill me, or any Valkyrie, is by decapitation, or, if you're strong enough, reach inside my chest and yank out my heart."

Then stomp on it. "Thanks for the information. Now go away."

"No. You go away. I was here first." He gave me a slow, wicked smile.

This was my favorite spot, and he knew it. "You're such a jerk."

"You'll have to do better than that to get a rise out of me, Freckles. Bye." He blew me a kiss and wiggled his fingers.

If he wanted me to hate him, he was going to get his wish. I closed the curtains, but the book in his hand reminded me of another. One that meant a lot to him. Please, let it be there, so I can hurl it at his head.

I hurried across the room to my chest of drawers. Under my panties in the back of the top drawer, my hand closed on the envelope, and I sighed with relief. I opened it, reached inside, and removed the ancient book of runes Torin had given me weeks ago.

Instead of walking back to the window and throwing it at Torin, I brought it to my nose and inhaled. It smelled of leather and his intoxicating scent. For a brief moment, I clutched the book to my chest as though the simple gesture would bring him closer. Maybe if I returned it, he'd start believing me.

No, he just said I needed to come up with something better to get a rise out of him. I needed a better plan. The kind that would make him wish he never threw that girlish crush crap at me.

CHAPTER 6. PEOPLE ARE SUCH TOOLS.

"Where are you going, young lady?" Dad called out when I started out of the kitchen.

"Upstairs." He opened his mouth, but I quickly added, "I know I'm not supposed to eat upstairs, but I have tons of homework. Please, Dad."

"Okay, tomorrow..." He cocked his brow.

"I'll eat downstairs. Promise. Love you." I gave him a toothy grin and raced upstairs before he could detain me further.

In my room, I placed my plate on the side, picked up garlic toast, and nibbled on it as I continued with the math packet. I enjoyed math most of the time and didn't mind learning new concepts when the teacher explained them, but trying to understand them on my own was a nightmare. I was tackling the second problem set when a knock resounded on my door.

"Can I come in, pumpkin?"

"Door's open." I didn't look up when he entered.

"You need to take a break," Dad said.

"I know. I'm almost done."

He sat on the edge of my desk and crossed his arms. "Your food is cold, your drink is untouched, and the oil from your garlic toast is leaving a nice stain on your otherwise nicely written report."

My eyes flew to the papers on my left. Oh crap! I grabbed the toast, threw it in the garbage can, and shook the crumbs off the top paper. The translucent stain had spread to the other pages under it. "Damn!"

"Watch your language," Dad said firmly.

"Sorry. I'm out of printer paper, and I wanted to turn this in tomorrow." I pulled out the paper tray to confirm it. There was only one piece of paper.

"Get some from downstairs after dinner."

"I used it all. I meant to buy some, but..." I checked my watch. It was after nine. "Do you think Kinko's or Staples is still open?"

"We'll discuss what to do about your paper problem after you eat. Come on." He picked up the plate of cold meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and peas. It looked good, but then again, he was an amazing cook. My stomach growled, and he laughed.

I guzzled half the glass of the orange juice, got up, and followed him. "I'm starving."

He snorted. "It's just like when you were little. You'd forget to eat because you couldn't stop reading. It's good to feed your mind, but you must also feed your body. A healthy mind-"

"Needs a healthy body," I finished. "That's not necessarily true."

"Is that a rebuttal?" Dad asked, easing back into a debate-like banter the two of us used to have before his plane crash.

"No, Dad. This is the rebuttal. One name. Stephen Hawking. Bam. Debate over." I gave him a triumphant grin.

Dad chuckled. "You can't win a discussion without an explanation. Who is this Stephen Hawking? What has he done?"

As if he didn't know. I rolled my eyes. "You made me watch the documentary they did on him. He is the Stephen Hawking. No explanation necessary."

"Be specific with his contributions, so I can have a counter argument," Dad said, tongue-in-cheek.

"I give up." I suppressed a giggle when he stopped at the foot of the stairs and arched his eyebrows. "I'm afraid I'm not particularly crazy about physics. Most of his theories are impossible to understand, let alone explain."

"Then you lose, my little debater. You don't swim a lap by doing a length." Dad waited for me to join him, draped his arm around my shoulders, and dropped a kiss on my temple. He didn't have to say he'd missed our heated discussions. I saw it in the twinkle in his eyes. The indulgent look on Mom's face as she watched us from the kitchen counter said she'd missed it, too.

Dad placed my cold dinner in the microwave, covered it with a paper towel, and punched the buttons. I plopped on a chair at the breakfast nook and waited.

"Did you get a lot of work done?" Mom asked, wiping down the counter.

"I finished today's math homework and started on the ones I missed while we were away. I wrote several reports, but, unfortunately, I ran out of printer paper."

"Your father keeps some in his home office."

"Not anymore." Dad placed the steaming plate in front of me, and I picked up the fork. "I thought I'd drive to the nearest store and pick up some. Most of these megastores sell printer paper, right?"

"You're not driving anywhere this late at night," Mom said firmly.

Dad got up. "I'll get some, honey."

"No, Tristan. I'm not letting either of you drive anywhere this late." Mom pulled on his arm until he sat on a chair. "I'll get Raine paper from next door."

Dad frowned. "Next door?"

"Remember, I told you we have four teenagers living next door who go to Raine's school. I was at their house earlier and noticed they had a printer and a fresh box of paper."

I shook my head, not wanting to be beholden to Lavania or Torin for anything. "Mom, don't. I can buy some tomorrow."

"I'm sure Lavania won't mind. Besides, I meant to invite her and the others over for dinner this weekend and forgot to mention it to her. I want your father to meet them. You two can go back to your debate while I'm gone." She kissed Dad and squeezed my shoulder.

"I think our accidents really spooked her," I said. "She's become clingy."

Dad chuckled. "Clingy is not a word I'd ever associate with your mother, pumpkin. She's loving and caring, and extremely fastidious. Have you met these new neighbors?"

I nodded, placing a big chunk of meatloaf into my mouth so I didn't have to discuss the Valkyries, but I forgot he'd just heated it up. My mouth burning, I jumped up to get water. By the time I sat again, Dad was behind the newspaper. He read while I ate.

"This is good. Is it a new recipe?"

He lowered the paper. "No, same old recipe."

"I guess I missed your cooking. I tried some of your recipes, but the results were pitiful."

"Then I'm happy I'm home to cook for you." Dad folded the newspaper and put it away. His eyes followed me as I rinsed my plate, glass, and utensils, and placed them in the dishwasher. When our gazes connected, I gave him a tiny smile. He didn't return it.

"I think I'll go back upstairs."

"Sit with me for a minute." He indicated the chair I'd vacated and waited until I sat before adding, "We haven't discussed what happened to your friends two weeks ago."

My stomach dropped. That was one subject we'd avoided during the cruise, and I'd hoped it would be history by the time we returned. "I, uh, I'll probably stop by the cemetery and pay my respects next weekend."

"That's very sweet of you, but I don't think anyone expects you to do that. You already did enough."

He knew. "I'd still love to. I'd known some of them since elementary school when we started swimming for the Dolphins."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"Oh, no. I'll be fine. I'll probably go with Eirik or Cora."

"Okay." When he continued to study me, I knew someone must have told him what had happened. Mom and I hadn't come up with an explanation, and my dad wasn't someone you bullshitted. I hated lying to him, but I couldn't tell him about Valkyries and Norns. It wasn't my job to do that. Mom should have told him eons ago, since she was one of them.

"I have to finish math, Dad."

"You're sure you don't want to talk about what happened at the meet?"

"I can't. It's still very fresh and haunting, and talking about it will be like reliving it. Maybe later." I hurried back up the stairs, but I couldn't escape my guilt or the hurt expression on his face. I'd never kept a secret from him. He was the one I'd run to when I had problems.

I tried to finish the math problem set, but my heart wasn't in it. I kept seeing my father's face. Why hadn't Mom told him the truth about who she was? Or maybe I was jumping to conclusions. I angled my head and listened for sounds from downstairs, but there was silence, which meant Mom was still at our neighbors. What was taking her so long? I checked out the window.