Nadia remembered the magical barrier at the edge of town. She looked again at the battered, depressed town that surrounded her.
From the crash, she’d known something powerful was in this town. But what if that powerful force was … draining Captive’s Sound? Dragging it down?
In her mind flashed the image of the ground caving in beneath Verlaine’s car, and she shuddered.
A motorcycle’s engine growled along behind her, slowed as it drew closer, and then came to a stop beside her. Nadia’s eyes widened as the driver removed his helmet and she saw Mateo.
“Hey,” he said. “You look—lost, I guess.”
“That obvious, huh?”
Given everything she was attempting to deal with, it should have taken more than a hot guy to make her smile. Yet Nadia knew she’d started smiling.
Mateo didn’t appear to be equally thrilled to see her; in fact, he couldn’t quite meet her eyes, like he was trying to avoid Nadia’s gaze. But he’d stopped for her, hadn’t he? “Okay, tell me where you live. I could—I can give you a ride. And then you’ll know how to get back home after that.”
Nadia tucked a lock of her long hair behind one ear. “So, do you do this rescue thing full-time?”
That made him grin—but only for a moment, because he quickly glanced away again. “I was going to drop by and see Elizabeth.” Mateo pointed at a house farther down the street, off by itself and even more gray and lonely than the rest. “But I’ve got a minute.”
Of course he was going to see his girlfriend. Because on top of being hot and courageous, Mateo was also an awesome boyfriend. Of course.
Still, it was stupid to pass up a lift home, right?
“You’re on,” Nadia said. “I live on Felicity Street—right by the park. And thanks.”
“No problem. Hop on.” Mateo paused, then held out his black helmet. “You should wear this.”
“Thanks.” Nadia slid the heavy thing onto her head, wondering if it made her look dorky—but there was no way she’d turn down an offer that chivalrous. Then she slipped one leg over the bike and settled into the seat right behind Mateo. Her legs were pressed against his legs, her belly against his back.
“Hang on,” he said just before he gunned the engine back to life, and Nadia brought her hands to his waist, tangling her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans. Then they were rolling—and to her, it felt like flying. Mateo’s deep brown hair ruffled in the breeze, and Nadia wished she lived farther away so the ride could last longer.
Much farther away. Say, maybe, California.
Stop it, she told herself, even as they rounded a corner and she slid her arms around his waist to hold on tighter. He’s not available. Nor was he likely to be, seeing as how he was devoted to his gorgeous girlfriend.
But at least she could enjoy the ride.
Mateo found her house disappointingly fast, bringing his motorcycle to a stop right in front. “You guys took this place, huh?” he said as Nadia tugged the helmet off and hoped she didn’t have crazy hat hair. “I’ve always liked it.”
“Yeah, it’s great. Kind of old and creaky, but that makes it cozy.” Their house was a little run-down, too, but it looked more comfortable than ratty, unlike the rest of Captive’s Sound. Then again, other people’s houses probably looked like that to them.
Her father appeared at the front door, and while he didn’t do anything as embarrassing as walking out and demanding an introduction, he did wave.
“Gotta go,” she said in a hurry. “Thanks for the rescue. Again.”
“You’ll be able to find your way from now on.” Something about the way Mateo said that sounded so weirdly final—but he simply lifted one hand in a farewell before putting the helmet back on and driving off.
Dad came up beside her as she watched him go. “Honey, I’m not sure about you riding a motorcycle.”
“I had on a helmet,” Nadia protested. “We weren’t going fast.”
He nodded in a way that told her he was willing to let it go … this time. “So, I see you’ve already made a friend. A guy friend.” Dad smirked, like this was teasing her instead of checking the guy out; really, it was both.
“That’s Mateo. From the night of the wreck.”
“He goes to your school?” Dad peered after him. “You should’ve asked Mateo in, honey; I’d have liked to thank him. That was amazing, what he did that night.”
“He was in a hurry,” Nadia said, walking toward the door with him. “I just caught a ride.”
“Well, if that’s the kind of boy you’re going to be bringing home, I approve.”
“Dad. Mateo’s—it’s not like that. He has a girlfriend already.” For the first time, Nadia realized her father was wearing an apron. “And hey, I told you I’d be home in time to make dinner.”
“I keep telling you, I’m capable of making dinner.”
Nadia frowned. “Then why do I smell smoke?”
Her father made a face. “Let’s say that maybe turkey tetrazzini was … overly ambitious.”
Despite everything weighing on her mind, Nadia had to laugh. “Come on. Let’s see if we can save it.”
Nadia.
Standing alongside the road, her hair fluttering in the breeze—so black it was nearly blue, shining even in the dim light. Behind him on the bike, her tiny frame snug against his and so warm—