Chapter Eighteen

Javier removed a helmet from the rear compartment and held it out to her. She took it, and their fingers brushed again. The warmth rippled through her hand. This time, Javier’s grip tightened almost imperceptibly on the helmet before he released it.
Maeve looked at him. “That keeps happening.”
“I noticed.”
“Is it a wolf thing?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Very reassuring.”
She pulled the helmet over her head. It smelled faintly of leather, sun-warmed fabric, and Javier. Her pulse stuttered at the realization. He stepped closer to fasten the strap beneath her chin.
Maeve immediately caught his wrist. “I can do it.”
Javier looked down at her hand around him. The heat beneath his skin was startling. It seemed to gather beneath her palm, steady and alive. Maeve released him.
“I know you can,” he said quietly.
“Then stop doing everything for me.”
His fingers moved away from the strap. “It was twisted.”
She adjusted it herself, though the first attempt only made it worse. Javier waited. Maeve tried again. The buckle refused to catch. He continued waiting.
“I can feel you being smug,” she said.
“I’m not saying anything.”
“You don’t have to.”
After another failed attempt, she lifted her chin in surrender. “Fine.”
Javier stepped forward. His knuckles brushed the sensitive skin beneath her jaw as he straightened the strap. The contact was brief, practical, but Maeve felt it everywhere. Her breath caught, and she hated that he was close enough to notice.
Javier’s eyes lifted to hers. He noticed her eyes were not just green. Right now, the color matched the orange of her hair, with light green swirls ringing the pupils like the corona of the sun during a total solar eclipse. For a moment, his hand stayed beneath her chin. The camp seemed to fall away. Maeve heard only the distant rumble of the trucks starting and the dry whisper of the wind across the rocks. Then Javier lowered his hand.
“Not too tight?”
She shook her head. His gaze lingered another heartbeat before he turned to the motorcycle.
Maeve watched him swing one leg over the seat. It should not have been an attractive movement. It was merely a man getting onto a motorcycle. Unfortunately, Javier seemed incapable of performing even the most ordinary action without reminding her of the body she had seen that morning. She climbed on behind him with considerably less grace.
“Where do I hold?” she asked.
“The side grips.”
Maeve found them behind her hips.
Javier looked over his shoulder. “The road gets uneven outside the camp.”
“I’ll manage.”
“You’ll be more secure holding me.”
Of course she would. She looked toward the trucks. Sofía was already in the cab of the second one, pointedly not looking in their direction. Maeve placed her hands lightly against Javier’s sides. Even through his shirt, the heat of him seeped into her palms.
“Closer,” he said.
“This is close.”
“It isn’t.”
“I can touch you.”
“You’ll slide when we hit the first wash.”
Maeve moved forward until her knees rested along his thighs. Her arms circled his waist, stiff and careful, as if she could keep the rest of her body from registering the contact through force of will.
Javier’s hand settled briefly over hers. The same electric warmth unfurled between them. Maeve’s fingers tightened against his stomach. Javier went very still.
“You felt it again,” she said.
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“I still don’t know.”
His voice sounded rougher than before. Maeve became suddenly aware of the firm muscles beneath her hands and the warmth of his back against her chest. This was a terrible idea.
Javier started the motorcycle. The engine came alive beneath them, sending a vibration through the seat and up Maeve’s spine. Before she could reconsider every decision that had led her to this moment, he guided the motorcycle away from the supply yard.
They passed through the runes as the sun dropped lower behind the ridges. Maeve felt the boundary this time. A faint pressure moved over her skin, like walking through air charged before a storm. The fire somewhere inside her stirred in response, then settled once they crossed into the open desert.
The trucks followed behind them, headlights already glowing against the gathering dusk. Javier accelerated onto the dirt road. The first jolt threw Maeve forward. Her grip tightened instantly around his waist. He said nothing, but she felt the quiet movement of laughter in his chest.
“Not a word,” she warned.
The motorcycle carried her voice away into the wind. Javier reached down and squeezed her hand once. Maeve held on.
Beyond the camp, the desert opened in every direction, vast and severe beneath the fading light. Shadows gathered within the folds of the hills. Creosote bushes and brittle grasses blurred past them, while rocky outcroppings rose like dark islands from the pale ground.
Javier rode ahead of the trucks but never so far that their headlights disappeared behind them. Occasionally, he slowed to study the road or turned onto a narrow track Maeve would not have noticed was there.
His attention seemed to encompass everything at once. A set of tire marks. A broken branch. A trail of footprints nearly erased by wind.
Each time he stopped, Maeve became aware of the stillness beyond the idling engine. The desert was not empty as she had once believed. It held signs everywhere, if a person knew how to read them. Javier knew.
At the first cache, he pulled the motorcycle behind a cluster of boulders and waited for the trucks to arrive. Maeve climbed off, her legs unsteady after the ride. Javier caught her elbow.
“I’m fine.”
“You almost fell.”
“I did not.”
“You leaned.”
“People lean.”
He kept his hand beneath her arm until she found her footing.
Maeve pulled free. “Hovering.”
“I’m standing.”
“You know what I mean.”
The headlights swept over them as the lead truck rounded the bend. Together, the Guardians carried supplies through a narrow break in the rocks. The cache was hidden inside a shallow recess covered by a weathered panel that blended almost perfectly with the stone. Maeve would have walked past it without seeing anything.
Javier opened the panel. Several bottles of water were missing, along with most of the food. A torn blanket had been shoved into one corner. There were small handprints in the dust near the opening. Maeve crouched beside them.
“A child?”
“Probably,” Javier said.
The irritation she had carried from camp softened. Someone had been here. Not long ago, perhaps frightened and exhausted, with a child small enough to place both hands against the dusty stone. They had found water because Javier and the others had left it for them.
The work no longer felt abstract. Maeve reached for one of the lighter boxes before Javier could stop her. He opened his mouth. She looked at him. He closed it again.
Maeve lifted the box and carried it into the recess. It was not particularly heavy, but triumph warmed her anyway. Javier watched her set it down.
“Good?” she asked.
His gaze moved from the box to her face. “Good.”
At the next cache, he allowed her to carry two bags of food.
At the third, she helped Sofía record what had been used while Javier and Diego followed a trail of footprints toward the wash.
He returned fifteen minutes later, tension visible in the set of his shoulders.
“The tracks split,” he said to Mateo over the radio. “Four headed east. The rest followed the wash south.”
“Recent?” the radio crackled.
“Within a day.”
Maeve watched him scan the darkness.
“Are they in danger?” she asked.
“Everyone out here is in danger.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Javier turned to her. “We’ll look.”
The answer was not a promise that he could save them. Only that he would try. They continued deeper into the desert.
By the time they reached the fifth cache, the last light had left the sky. Stars spread above them in numbers Maeve had never seen from Tacoma. The Milky Way cut a pale path across the darkness, so clear that the sight of it made her stop. Javier noticed immediately.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
He followed her gaze upward. For once, he did not tell her to keep moving. They stood together in the quiet while the others unloaded the truck behind them.
“I’ve never seen the sky like this,” Maeve said.
“There’s too much light where you live.”
“Rain, mostly.”
“You miss it.”
It was not a question.
“Yes.”
She missed the cold dampness against her face, the smell of wet pavement, the gray stretch of Puget Sound beneath low clouds. She missed coffee from familiar places and streets where she knew which turns led home.
For the first time, however, missing Tacoma did not make the desert feel entirely hostile. Not with the stars above her or with Javier standing beside her, quiet enough that she did not feel obligated to fill the silence. She looked at him.
Moonlight softened the hard planes of his face and caught in his dark hair. Maeve remembered running her fingers through the thick fur between the wolf’s ears. The thought came before she could stop it.
“Does your hair feel the same?”
Javier glanced at her. “The same as what?”
She immediately wished she could pull the question back.
“Nothing.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
Maeve sighed. “Your fur.”
Understanding moved across his face. Heat crept toward her cheeks again.
“I was just wondering.”
Javier looked almost amused. “You could find out.”
The words settled between them. Maeve stared at him. He seemed to realize what he had said only after it was too late. His expression remained controlled, but something shifted in his eyes.
“You mean when you’re the wolf,” she said.
“Yes.”
“Obviously.”
“Yes.”
Neither of them sounded convincing. Maeve looked away toward the trucks.
Javier cleared his throat. “We should check the cache.”
“Definitely.”
They walked toward it without touching. This time, however, Maeve was intensely aware of the space between their hands.
At the final stop, the others moved ahead with the supplies while Maeve and Javier remained near the motorcycle. The terrain had grown rougher, the narrow trail bordered by jagged rocks and clumps of thorny vegetation. Maeve stepped around Javier and started after the group. His hand closed around her wrist.
“Wait.”
She looked down at his fingers. “Why?”
He released her and pointed toward the ground. A snake lay coiled in the shadow of a rock less than two feet from where she had been about to step.
Maeve stopped breathing.
The snake’s patterned body was nearly invisible against the dirt.
Javier moved in front of her, placing himself between her and the animal. “Back up slowly.”
Maeve did as he instructed. The snake shifted, its tail giving a faint warning rattle. Javier remained perfectly still until it slid away between the rocks. Only after it disappeared did he turn.
“Are you alright?”
Maeve pressed one hand to her chest. “No.”
His gaze swept over her as if the snake might somehow have bitten her without either of them noticing.
“It didn’t touch you.”
“I know that.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I almost stepped on a rattlesnake.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. The contact sent heat through her again, but this time she barely noticed. Javier’s face was close, his eyes searching hers with an intensity that made the rest of the desert vanish.
“You’re safe,” he said.
Maeve drew in a slow breath.
“I’m safe.”
His hands remained on her shoulders. The fear in his expression startled her more than the snake had. Not ordinary concern. Fear.
“Javier.”
His grip loosened, though he did not release her.
“I’m okay.”
He nodded once.
“You can stop checking.”
Another nod. He still did not move. Maeve placed her hand over his. His skin was hot beneath her palm.
“Is your skin always this warm?”
The question slipped out softly. Javier looked down at their hands.
“Warmer than humans,” he said.
“Because of the wolf?”
“Yes.”
Maeve traced her thumb unconsciously across his knuckles. The electric warmth returned, slower now, spreading through both of them. Javier’s breathing changed. Maeve noticed. The realization drew her abruptly back to herself. She released his hand and stepped away.
Behind them, Diego called Javier’s name.
“We’re coming,” he answered, his voice controlled once more.
As they walked toward the others, Javier stayed close enough that his arm occasionally brushed Maeve’s. This time, she did not complain.
On the return journey, she climbed onto the motorcycle without arguing. Javier waited until her arms were secure around his waist before starting the engine.
The trucks followed them through the darkness, their headlights spilling across the dirt road. The desert passed in fragments, pale stone, silvered brush, the sudden sweep of an owl crossing above them. Maeve rested her cheek briefly against Javier’s back. She told herself it was because she was tired. He did not mention it.
After several miles, she spoke near his ear.
“Your parents patrolled too?”
Javier’s shoulders tensed beneath her arms.
“Yes.”
“What were they like?”
For a time, only the engine answered.
“My mother laughed easily,” he said at last. “Even when nothing was funny.”
Maeve smiled against his back. “That sounds nice.”
“She embarrassed me.”
“Mothers are supposed to.”
“She sang while she cooked.”
“Badly?”
“Terribly.”
A quiet warmth entered his voice, fragile enough that Maeve was afraid to interrupt it.
“And your father?”
“He believed every problem could be solved if enough people worked together.”
“Was he right?”
“No.”
The single word carried more weight than all the others.
Maeve lifted her head. “What happened to them?”
Javier’s hands tightened around the handlebars.
“They went on patrol.”
“And?”
“They didn’t come back.”
The desert wind seemed suddenly colder. Maeve’s arms tightened around him. This time, it had nothing to do with keeping her balance.
“I’m sorry.”
Javier nodded once. She waited, hoping he might say more. He did not.
The wall had returned, but Maeve understood it differently now. It was not meant to keep her out specifically. It had been built long before she arrived, stone by stone, perhaps beginning the night his parents failed to come home.
She did not try to force her way through it. Instead, she held on as they crossed the open desert together.
When the campfires finally appeared ahead, scattered among the rocks like small pieces of fallen stars, Maeve felt an unexpected loosening in her chest. Javier slowed as they approached the runes. The charged pressure moved over her skin again, the flame responding with a soft pulse beneath her ribs.
They were almost inside when Maeve spoke.
“I understand why you didn’t tell me.”
Javier tilted his head slightly, listening.
“I barely believe it now,” she continued.
He guided the motorcycle through the boundary.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not still angry.”
“I know.”
“And you’re still hovering.”
“I know.”
“And I’m not agreeing to ride with you on every patrol.”
A pause.
“We’ll discuss it.”
Maeve laughed despite herself. “That is not agreement.”
“No.”
“At least you admit it.”
Javier parked near the supply yard and turned off the engine. The sudden quiet rang in Maeve’s ears. She released him and climbed down. Her legs were steadier this time, though Javier still reached out as if prepared to catch her. Maeve looked at his hand. He stopped himself before touching her. The small restraint mattered more than it should have.
She removed the helmet and held it out to him. Their fingers brushed as he took it. Warmth sparked between them once more. Neither apologized. Maeve looked toward the dark line of his hair, still wondering.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she reached up and touched one loose strand near his temple. Javier went completely still. The hair was soft beneath her fingers. Not exactly like the wolf’s fur. But close. Maeve lowered her hand quickly.
“I was curious.”
Javier’s eyes held hers.
“And?”
She fought the smile threatening to form.
“Your wolf is softer.”
A slow smile spread across his face. It was not the restrained half smile she had seen before. This one transformed him, warming the guarded lines of his expression and revealing the man beneath all that discipline.
Maeve’s heartbeat stumbled. Javier leaned slightly closer.
“He likes you better too.”
Before she could decide what that meant, he turned toward the trucks, leaving her beside the motorcycle with flushed cheeks and far too many questions.
Maeve watched him walk away. She was still angry. She was still confused. And she was becoming increasingly certain that both of those things were in danger of being overwhelmed by something far more complicated.