dare you,” Lia said, relishing each and every word, “to kiss Dean.”
Dean reacted to that sentence like he’d been electrocuted. He sat straight up. “Lia,” he said sharply. “No.”
“Oh, come now, Dean,” Lia cajoled. “It’s Truth or Dare. Take one for the team.” Without waiting for his reply, she turned back to me. “Kiss him, Cassie.”
I didn’t know what was worse, Dean’s objection to the idea of being forced to kiss me or the sudden realization that my body
didn’t
object to the idea of kissing him. I thought of our lessons with Locke, the feel of his hand on the back of my neck. …
Lia watched me expectantly, but Michael’s eyes were the ones I felt on my face as I crossed the room to stand in front of Dean.
I didn’t have to do this.
I could say no.
Dean looked up at me, and for a split second, I sawsomething other than deadly neutrality on his face. His eyes softened. His lips parted, like there was something he wanted to say.
I knelt next to the fireplace. I put one hand on his cheek, and I brought my lips to his. It was a friendly kiss. A European hello. Our mouths only touched for a second—but I felt it, electric, all the way to my toes.
I pulled back, unable to force my eyes away from his lips as I did. For a few seconds, we just stayed there, staring at each other: him on the fireplace and me kneeling on the rug.
“Your turn, Cassie.” Lia sounded pretty darned satisfied with herself.
I forced myself to stand up and walk back to the sofa. I sat down, still able to feel the ghost of Dean’s lips on mine. “Truth or dare, Dean?”
It was only fair: he was the sole person present who hadn’t been in the hot seat yet. For a second, I thought he might refuse and call an end to this game, but he didn’t.
“Truth.”
This was the opportunity Michael hadn’t given me. There were so many things I wanted to know. I concentrated on that, instead of what had passed between us a moment before.
“The other day, when Locke said she couldn’t take Lia to the crime scene, you said that wasn’t what the program was
anymore
.” I paused. “What did you mean?”
Dean nodded, as if that were a perfectly reasonable question to ask after you’d kissed a person. “I was the first one,” he said. “Before there was a program, before they started using the term
Naturals
, it was just Briggs and me. I didn’t live with Judd. The FBI brass didn’t know about me. Briggs brought me questions. I gave him answers.”
“Questions about killers.” I wasn’t allowed a follow-up question, so I phrased it as a statement. Dean nodded. Lia cut in, breaking off all conversation.
“He was twelve,” she said, clipping the words. “Your turn, Dean.”
“Cassie,” Dean said. That was it—no “truth or dare.” Just my name.
Beside me, Michael’s jaw clenched. Lia’s payback had hit its target—and then some.
“Truth,” I said, trying not to dwell on Michael’s reaction or what it might mean.
“Why did you come here?” Dean asked, looking at Lia, at his own hands, at anything but me. “Why join this program at all?”
There were a lot of answers to that question that would have been technically true. I could have said that I wanted to help people. I could have said that I’d always known that I’d never quite fit in the regular world. But I didn’t.
“My mother was murdered.” I cleared my throat, trying to say the words like they were just any other words. “Fiveyears ago. Based on the blood spatter, they think she was stabbed. Repeatedly. The police never found her body, but there was enough blood that they don’t think she could have survived. I used to think that maybe she had. I don’t anymore.”
Dean didn’t react visibly to that confession—but Lia went unnaturally still, and Sloane’s mouth dropped open as she averted her eyes. Michael had known about my mother, but I’d never said a word to any of the others.
Truth or dare, Dean
. I wanted to
Dean reacted to that sentence like he’d been electrocuted. He sat straight up. “Lia,” he said sharply. “No.”
“Oh, come now, Dean,” Lia cajoled. “It’s Truth or Dare. Take one for the team.” Without waiting for his reply, she turned back to me. “Kiss him, Cassie.”
I didn’t know what was worse, Dean’s objection to the idea of being forced to kiss me or the sudden realization that my body
didn’t
object to the idea of kissing him. I thought of our lessons with Locke, the feel of his hand on the back of my neck. …
Lia watched me expectantly, but Michael’s eyes were the ones I felt on my face as I crossed the room to stand in front of Dean.
I didn’t have to do this.
I could say no.
Dean looked up at me, and for a split second, I sawsomething other than deadly neutrality on his face. His eyes softened. His lips parted, like there was something he wanted to say.
I knelt next to the fireplace. I put one hand on his cheek, and I brought my lips to his. It was a friendly kiss. A European hello. Our mouths only touched for a second—but I felt it, electric, all the way to my toes.
I pulled back, unable to force my eyes away from his lips as I did. For a few seconds, we just stayed there, staring at each other: him on the fireplace and me kneeling on the rug.
“Your turn, Cassie.” Lia sounded pretty darned satisfied with herself.
I forced myself to stand up and walk back to the sofa. I sat down, still able to feel the ghost of Dean’s lips on mine. “Truth or dare, Dean?”
It was only fair: he was the sole person present who hadn’t been in the hot seat yet. For a second, I thought he might refuse and call an end to this game, but he didn’t.
“Truth.”
This was the opportunity Michael hadn’t given me. There were so many things I wanted to know. I concentrated on that, instead of what had passed between us a moment before.
“The other day, when Locke said she couldn’t take Lia to the crime scene, you said that wasn’t what the program was
anymore
.” I paused. “What did you mean?”
Dean nodded, as if that were a perfectly reasonable question to ask after you’d kissed a person. “I was the first one,” he said. “Before there was a program, before they started using the term
Naturals
, it was just Briggs and me. I didn’t live with Judd. The FBI brass didn’t know about me. Briggs brought me questions. I gave him answers.”
“Questions about killers.” I wasn’t allowed a follow-up question, so I phrased it as a statement. Dean nodded. Lia cut in, breaking off all conversation.
“He was twelve,” she said, clipping the words. “Your turn, Dean.”
“Cassie,” Dean said. That was it—no “truth or dare.” Just my name.
Beside me, Michael’s jaw clenched. Lia’s payback had hit its target—and then some.
“Truth,” I said, trying not to dwell on Michael’s reaction or what it might mean.
“Why did you come here?” Dean asked, looking at Lia, at his own hands, at anything but me. “Why join this program at all?”
There were a lot of answers to that question that would have been technically true. I could have said that I wanted to help people. I could have said that I’d always known that I’d never quite fit in the regular world. But I didn’t.
“My mother was murdered.” I cleared my throat, trying to say the words like they were just any other words. “Fiveyears ago. Based on the blood spatter, they think she was stabbed. Repeatedly. The police never found her body, but there was enough blood that they don’t think she could have survived. I used to think that maybe she had. I don’t anymore.”
Dean didn’t react visibly to that confession—but Lia went unnaturally still, and Sloane’s mouth dropped open as she averted her eyes. Michael had known about my mother, but I’d never said a word to any of the others.
Truth or dare, Dean
. I wanted to
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