Page 6 of Mate Me

“Let it go, Clara. I know you mean well, I really do, but just drop it. This is why I don’t tell y’all anything . . .” I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “You know what? Never mind. I’m going to bed.”

I left her in the kitchen and went to my room, slamming the door before packing my satchel with some moonshine and a DVD. Looking in the mirror, I almost laughed. I looked like—well, like I’d been digging up a grave. Stripping off the dirt-covered jeans and shirt, I kicked them into a pile in the corner by my small dresser. After re-braiding my hair, I wiped off my face with a washcloth and changed into comfortable leggings and an off-the-shoulder sweater.

I listened by my door and heard Clara in the kitchen, banging around pans as she began to cook. She always did when she was upset, and I knew our argument had probably frustrated the hell out of her.

Sighing, I turned to leave, but I had no plans on exiting through the front. Twenty-seven years old and I still preferred to sneak out my window rather than tell the truth about where I was going.

Clara had never liked Ben, and Nog piggybacked on whatever his sister said—unless it was about him, of course. She never even gave Ben a chance; just said she had a bad feeling about him. That wasn’t enough to go on. She had notoriously bad taste in men, and her current boyfriend was no different.

After he picked me up down the road, Ben and I spent the night laying on a pile of blankets on the rooftop of his building downtown. It wasn’t romantic. It was comfortable. Just drinking my special moonshine blend, eating pizza, and watching a movie on a portable DVD player he’d scored in a trade a few months back. He didn’t even have to spell it. It still worked on its own, and that made it a fantastic find. I had a decent collection of films, and even though I’d seen it a hundred times, he indulged my desire to watchThe Princess Brideyet again.

When the credits began to roll, he turned it off and we laid in silence. The St. Louis Arch stood in the distance, but without lights, all you could see was the outline. The smell of the river was faint, and I could almost taste the rain in the atmosphere. It wasn’t here yet, but it was close.

Clouds rolled through the sky, blocking out the moon and showing her again. Stars glittered and peeked through in the same way. It was serene, and coupled with the moonshine, I was damn near falling asleep.

“Do you ever think about leaving The Crossroads?” he asked me, his tone casual and light.

My eyes widened. A sudden jolt of fear coursed through me, but I couldn’t explain it. I sat up, turning to look at him. “Why? Do you?”

Ben propped himself up on his elbows and tilted his head regarding me. “Yeah, sometimes. Is that so bad?”

I could think of a number of reasons why it was bad. First and foremost, I valued my family more than anything, and my family lived here. Second, leaving would mean we’d have even less protection than we have now. It was dangerous at the best of times.

Once the world’s governments collapsed, supernaturals established their own hierarchy. There were eight Houses that ruled, or maybe it was nine? I couldn’t keep track of the way they formed and sometimes imploded in a very short time frame. We were situated in the largest No Man’s Land in the middle of what used to be Midwest America. Others like it were simply open territory that the Houses either couldn’t or wouldn’t take over—but we were a little more put together in The Crossroads. Houseless, yes, but not as cutthroat, all while still being dangerous. On one hand, it meant we didn’t have to worry about whatever political shenanigans the Houses were up to. We weren’t involved in their politics or border disputes. On the other hand, it did make survival a little more difficult when powerful allies did not back you. Still, we managed to do okay for ourselves. Railroad tracks from all over converged in The Crossroads—thus the name. It was how we managed trade, and that was a great achievement for a city that had no authority elsewhere.

“This is the safest No Man’s Land there is. Why would you want to risk leaving that?”

He shrugged, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “We only know what we’ve been told, Reagan. I don’t know what the rest of the world looks like.”

I sighed, understanding more of what he was getting at. “Fair enough, but I do know my dad is out there saving orphaned kids before rogue organizations can capture and sell them off. That speaks volumes. It’s safer here, even if we don’t know what actually lies beyond the plains.”

“I suppose,” he said softly. “You don’t ever feel trapped, though?”

I huffed a humorless laugh. “More than you know,” I muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Pressing my lips together, I knew I couldn’t go on. I’d already said enough.

Ben picked up a pebble and threw it. “Do you do this with all your friends?”

“Do what?”

“It’s like you start to trust me, then you shut it down again. It’s maddening.”

“That’s not it.” I shook my head, looking down at my socks while picking at a string. “It’s . . . the same as you, really. Wish I could see the ocean, the mountains, any type of different landscape. I dream about them, you know; dream about visiting my cousin at Mt. Rainier, but it’s easier if I don’t think about it too much because I plan on staying here.”

It wasn’t untrue. I wanted to see and explore. It just wasn’t an option.

At times, especially moments such as these, I wished I could share more with Ben. Tell him I was a guardian. Tell him how I felt trapped every day of my life, forced into a role I didn’t understand, carrying something that was destined to kill me or drive me insane. And I couldn’t say a damn word. Sharing any of those details with him put everyone in danger.

It was safer to go through life when everyone suspected I was a latent horse shifter.

What no one knew was she was much more than that. An animal thought to be extinct long ago lived within me. We didn’t lie when we said it was an equine . . . we just didn’t elaborate and specify that she was a dark unicorn. If anyone found out, we’d be captured and sold to the highest bidder. They’d force a shift if they could, study us, and try to use our magic for personal gain.

I’d heard plenty of stories about how dragons had been kept in cages, drugged to prevent shifting, manipulated in experiments, and had their magical scales torn off to be used as currency.

No, thanks.

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