Runes - By Ednah Walters Page 0,1

and deposited him on my doorstep or I was dreaming.

I closed my eyes tight and then opened them again.

He was still there, the only thing missing was a bow or a note with my name pinned to his forehead. Irrationally, I wondered how it would feel to run my fingers through his hair. It was luxurious and so long it brushed the collar of his jacket. His lips moved, and I realized he was speaking.

“What?” I asked. The single word came out in two syllables, and I cringed. Lame, Raine.

“I asked if you’d seen Eirik Seville,” the stranger said impatiently in a deep, commanding voice as though he was used to giving orders, “and you shook your head. Does that mean you didn’t understand what I said, don’t know him, or don’t know where he is?”

“I, uh, the third one.” Could I be any lamer? Worse, warmth crept up my face. “I mean, I don’t know where he is,” I said in a squeaky voice.

“He said he would be at the house of...” he pulled out a piece of paper from the back of his biker glove, the fingerless kind, and read, “Raine Cooper.”

“That’s me. Lorraine Cooper, but everyone calls me Raine. You know, rain with a silent E,” I said even though he didn’t ask for an explanation. I tended to blabber when nervous. “Yeah, well, Eirik’s not here.”

“When do you expect him? Or should I ask when does he usually get here, Raine with an E?” the guy asked.

I bristled, not liking his mocking tone or the way he spoke slowly as though I was a dimwit. “He doesn’t always come here after school, you know. You could try his house or text him.”

Mr. Hot-but-arrogant shrugged. “If I wanted to use modern technology I would, but I’d rather not. Could you do me a favor?”

Use modern technology? Which cave did he crawl from? He spoke with a trace of an accent that had a familiar lilt. British or Aussie? I could never tell the difference.

He sighed. “You’re shaking your head again. Did my question confuse you? Am I talking too fast, too slow, or is it me? I’ve been told my presence tends to, uh, throw people off.”

I crossed my arms, lifted my chin, and stared down my nose at him. I was usually the calm one among my friends, the peacemaker, but this guy was seriously pushing my buttons with his arrogance. “No.”

His eyebrows rose and met the lock of hair falling over his forehead. “No to what?”

“No, you didn’t confuse me. And no, I won’t do you a favor.”

He rolled his eyes, plucked wraparound sunglasses from the breast pocket of his jacket, and slipped them on before turning to leave.

Yeah, good riddance. To copy Cora’s favorite saying, ‘he just lost hotness points’.

He paused as though he’d changed his mind and faced me, the corners of his mouth lifting in a slow smile. “Okay, Raine with an E, what do I have to do to make you play nice?”

Whoa, what a smile. I was still staring at his lips when what he’d said registered. I peered at him, hating that I had to look up at him. At five-seven, I was above average for a girl, but he was taller. Six-two or three I’d guess. Worse, my face stared back at me from the surface of his dark sunglasses, making me feel like I was talking to myself.

“Stop being rude and condescending for starters,” I said.

He chuckled, the sound rich and throaty. Sexy. A delicious shiver ran up my spine. “I thought I was being extremely polite.”

I snorted. “Right.”

“Do I need to apologize?”

“Not if you don’t mean it.”

“Then I won’t.”

I debated whether to step back and slam the door on his face, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. One, it was rude. Two, I wanted to know why he was looking for Eirik. “Okay, shoot. What’s the favor?”

“Tell your boyfriend that he and I need to talk. Today. In the next hour if possible.”

That annoying, commanding tone got to me again. I mock saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckled, then did something strange. He reached out and touched my nose. “Cute. Nice meeting you, Raine with an E.”

Cute? Ew. I reached up to swat his hand, but he was already turning away. I followed him, not realizing what I was doing until I reached the driveway. Where was he going? He wore biker’s gloves, but there was no motorcycle parked at the curb. He turned left,