Page 81 of Captured Immune

Without hesitation, he said, “No. Not to you.”

“Who are you dangerous to?”

“Anyone who tries to hurt you.”

I think he knew at that time. He knew people were going to kidnap me, and he did nothing to prevent it. Maybe he’s not dangerous to me directly, but he’s dangerous by association. The second I’m able to, I’m getting away from him. Far, far away.

“You ready?” Trey’s breath on the back of my neck sends warm tingles down my spine.

Stop!I mentally shout at myself. Screw my body for loving the feel of him on me. Actually, screw the world for putting me in this situation. Why give me a man I feel safe with, only to make being with him the most life-threatening situation I’ve ever encountered? It doesn’t make any sense.

“Arella?”

I pull myself out of my swirling thoughts and imagine my waves of water crashing around him. I visualize the water soaking him from head to toe, drenching him with my immunity. “Okay, I’m ready. Just don’t let go of my hand.”

By now, I’m pretty confident in my ability to project my immunity onto Trey without having to touch him. The hand holding is simply for assurance. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.

“I’ll start slow, then I’m gonna go fast, ’kay?” Trey lifts his free hand, then the tire carries us into the air and we soar through the giant hole in the barn’s ceiling.

It blows my mind how he’s doing this. Seeing him move a trash bin from one side of the room to another is one thing, but this? The fireballs, the skilled fighting, the being a member of a secret underground spy ring thing. What else don’t I know about him?

We zoom over a quiet house, then above some woods and a small lake.

More woods.

Another house.

More woods.

Then it’s just woods for a while.

“Arella, I think you’re cutting off the circulation in my leg.”

I release the death grip I didn’t realize I had on his calf. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I won’t let you fall, babe. Just relax.”

Relax?He wants me to relax? I haven’t been able to relax for what feels like weeks. Now he’s telling me to relax while I’m jetting across the sky on a smelly tire to get away from my abductors?Yeah, right.

“Don’t call mebabe,” I say with a little bite to it.

His hands droop a little. Then he clears his throat and says somberly, “Sorry.”

How can so much pain come out in one little word? If I could still sense other people’s emotions, I’m sure I would have felt his heart shatter in his chest. Suddenly, I feel bad. Not bad enough to take it back though. This man has no right to be calling mebabeanymore.

He clears his throat again. “Are you ready to go faster?”

“Sure.” My head jerks backward into his shoulder as we speed through the air like we’re on a roller coaster. “Can I turn around to face you? The wind is making it hard for me to breathe.”

“Of course. Do you wanna land first?”

“I think I can flip around up here.” Slowly, I rotate, sticking one leg into the air over his head, then dropping it at his side. The entire time, he holds me tight around my waist and never lets me go. I wish he didn’t make me feel so safe, yet so terrified at the same time. It’s not that I’m terrified of him; it’s the people who are after mebecause of him.

I lock my ankles together behind him while my hands find the back of his neck for support. He winces and lets out a pained grunt.

I release my grip a little. “Am I hurting you?”

He forces a tiny smile. “I’m just a little sore.”

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