Defector (Variants) - Hardcover

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CHAPTER 1

Date night. My favorite night of the week—along with my evenings spent doing “girly stuff” with Holly (her words). Sometimes it was still hard for me to grasp that Alec and I had been dating for a couple of weeks, that it had been that long since I’d returned from my first mission. The time felt like a blur.

Though Alec and I didn’t go to the movies or out to a fancy restaurant (or even leave headquarters) for our dates, they were a big part of the reason why everything between us started to feel real. Holly had tried to talk me into dressing up. She’d even laid out an array of four outfits for me to choose from. Maybe she took this a bit too seriously. I’d explained to her in carefully chosen words that it would have felt wrong to get dolled up. Alec had seen me at my worst: crying and sobbing over my mother, beaten up and covered in blood. It would have felt as if I was putting on a mask if I’d dressed up for movie night. It was bad enough that I had to be someone else for my job; I didn’t want that in front of Alec. This evening was about Alec and me as we really were.

Despite Holly’s disapproving frown, I wore my favorite shorts and a T-shirt with ten rules to surviving a zombie apocalypse on the front. Alec greeted me with a peck on the lips as I slipped into his room. A small smile of endorsement spread on his face when he noticed my shirt. Happy that my instinct had been right, I stepped out of my shoes and lay back on his bed while he pushed the DVD into the player. With a buzzing, it snapped shut. A swarm of butterflies fluttered in my belly as I watched the muscles in Alec’s lower back and shoulders flex beneath his white T-shirt when he straightened. Alec kicked off his sneakers and locked the door. Date night number three, and it was the first time he’d done that. My imagination went into overdrive, and the fluttering in my stomach turned into a riot.

Alec turned slowly, as if he’d only just realized how his actions might look. His eyes were cautious as he glanced at me. Did I look nervous? “Because of Tanner. I don’t want him to barge in.” Then he added with a hint of annoyance, “Again.”

Good thinking. Tanner had already walked in on us kissing on the bed twice. If I had to bear his teasing and kissy noises one more time, I’d shave his beloved mohawk off while he was sleeping.

I gave Alec a smile, though the mix of nerves, embarrassment, and excitement had me feeling like I was going to combust. Nobody would interrupt us tonight; anything could happen. Alec was experienced—after all, he was older than me, and he’d dated Kate for months. How far did he want to go? How far did I want him to go? This felt momentous somehow.

“I can unlock it, though, if that’s what you prefer,” he said softly. It was pretty obvious from his expression that it wasn’t what he wanted, but it made me happy that he was trying to make me feel comfortable.

“Don’t be stupid. Come here.” I patted the bed and made more room for him. His expression lit up, but I could still detect a hint of uncertainty in the way he moved. He was always worried about me and constantly protective of me. That would probably never change. I had to show him that I wasn’t some breakable porcelain doll. I had extraordinary abilities; I’d recently survived a serial killer, for goodness sake.

He sank down beside me and stretched out his long legs. Then he paused and pointed at a big, round red candle on his nightstand. “Do you want me to light it?”

That was too much. I couldn’t help it. I burst into laughter. “Did Holly put you up to this?” I could imagine only too well how she’d followed him around, trying to teach him what constituted a romantic date. Alec smiled sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“Okay, well, I’m not the candlelight type. The glow of a lightsaber is more my thing.”

“Thank god. This thing smells like apples and cinnamon, and I hate the stench.” The last bit of tension leaked from Alec’s body, and he sank into the crisp (the laundry staff loved starch) black cushions with Chucky’s face on the front propped up against the dark wood headboard. I pressed myself against his chest, breathing in his woodsy smell as he wrapped his arm around me. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what his date nights had been like with Kate. Had she liked candlelight? He pressed a kiss against my temple, and I looked up, bringing our faces closer together. Our breath mingled. I leaned forward, trying my best to bury my worries. He was mine now.

“You can trust me,” he said quietly, gray eyes earnest and open. Once again, it was almost like he’d read my thoughts.

I inched toward him until I could almost feel the heat of his mouth. I kissed him and smiled against his lips. Besides Holly, Alec was the only person I’d ever allowed myself to trust completely. The feeling was comforting and thrilling at the same time. “I know.” My skin tingled from the friction as I spoke.

His lips moved against mine, softly sliding over them, tasting, claiming. The prickle of his stubble sent a sliver of desire into my belly. My eyes fell shut, and I relaxed against the mattress. Alec’s hard body pressed against me, hipbone to hipbone. His hands traveled up my throat into my hair, fingertips feather-soft. My palms marked his back as mine, pressing him tighter against me. His muscles flexed beneath my hands. His kiss was slow, unhurried, and spread fire in my body before it pooled in my belly. His lips brushed the corner of my mouth, then moved to my chin and throat. A sound tumbled out of my mouth—a sound I hadn’t known I was capable of. When I opened my eyes, Alec was watching me. A small smile played around his lips. I pushed my fingers into his black hair, relishing in the silkiness. With a groan, he climbed on top of me, careful not to crush me with his weight, and pressed his lips against me again. The feeling of his body on me, his warmth seeping into me, his smell surrounding me, I felt safer than I’d ever felt before. I felt at home. He kissed the hollow of my throat, and I tilted my head back to give him better access. His tongue darted out and flicked across my collarbone. I gasped and dug my hands into his arms. His muscles twitched under my grasp. Something was unraveling inside me—a feeling unlike anything I’d ever felt before. There was no use holding it together—I felt no need to. His hand, warm and strong, crept under my shirt. His palm rested on my stomach, friction of skin on skin raising goose bumps all over my body. But then his fingers traveled up to my rib cage, and I froze.

His fingertips rested on the mark left by my mission. The glaring red of the A had faded, but the scar hadn’t. It had entirely lost feeling, but it was there and always would be. Alec stopped kissing me, closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against mine, releasing a harsh breath.

“Sorry,” I whispered, feeling inexplicably sad—and just as guilty for ruining the moment.

“No,” Alec said fiercely. He pulled back to look at me, and his gray eyes held mine with a startling intensity. “Don’t you dare start feeling guilty for this.” He brushed his fingertips across the scar. I shivered.

I stared at the candle, the way its wick was bent. “I know it bothers you. I mean . . . it’s ugly . . .” I trailed off, unsure what else to say.

“It doesn’t bother me because of how it looks. It bothers me because it reminds me of the danger you faced and how I failed you, how you could have died....