Tabula Rasa

Chapter 88

Strawberries and sea salt.

Matt stirred as the tendrils of aroma reached him. He'd been dozing on the Adirondack chair on the upstairs balcony, huddled under a blanket to stave off the chill of the night air. He'd hoped that his senses would pick up Calina's return more easily outdoors...and it seemed to have worked.

But after hours and hours of waiting, and hours and hours of nothing, he worried his mind was playing tricks on him. So he took a deep breath, sifted out the scent of pine needles and earth and mud...and there it was again.

Calina's scent, riding the air.

Strawberries and sea salt...and blood.

Matt tensed as he detected the copper notes beneath her sweet fragrance. He jumped out of the chair and leaned against the railing of the balcony, stretching out his other senses to try to find her in the emptiness surrounding the chalet. He heard distant sounds - engines roaring, helicopter blades whirling, voices yelling - but he focused on the source of that scent. And that's when he heard footsteps, fast and light, getting louder as they rushed through the clearing on the other side of the woods.

He recognised the sound of those footsteps. The weight of them. The cadence of the stride - he'd been running with Calina every day for almost a week, after all.

Matt gripped the railing and vaulted over it. He landed in a roll on the grass below, the momentum propelling him to his feet. Then he took off, racing towards her. He heard Nika barking as she was left behind in the locked chalet, but Matt couldn't afford the few minutes it would take to let her out.

He needed to get to Calina now. That scent of blood scared him.

He crashed through the woods, shouting her name. "Calina!"

"Matt?"

Her voice was strong. And judging by the speed and strength of her gait, she couldn't be too badly injured. But he didn't let up his own pace, too desperate now to see her and know for sure that she was safe.

"Matt!" Calina called again, her footsteps quickening as she got closer.

Then suddenly, there she was, emerging through a copse of spruce trees. Matt barely had time to slow his steps before she threw herself into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist and her hands clutching the material of his coat. He staggered back a few steps from the force of her embrace, and it only made his concern sky-rocket. "Hey," he said, running his hands over her hair, her sides - everywhere he could reach - in search of injuries. "Are are you okay? Where are you hurt?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay."

"I can smell blood, Callie."

"It's nothing. I'm okay," she repeated.

Then she kissed him. A wild, hard, frantic kiss.

Matt responded with barely a conscious thought. How could he not, when Calina was back, safe, in his arms, and kissing him? When it was everything he'd been praying for for the past 15 hours.

He leaned into the kiss, and clutched her tighter against his chest, feeling her heart pound against the cage housing his own. Both her hands were in his hair now, as she nipped at his lips and sucked his tongue, as her thighs clenched his waist...

But something in the almost frenzied nature of the embrace pulled him back from the hazy edge of desire. He couldn't detect the scent that warned him of a change in her emotional state, but this didn't seem like his Callie. He tore his lips from hers. "Hey—"

She used her grip on his hair to tilt his head to the side, trailing kisses along his jaw and down his neck.

"Wait," he gritted out, even as the tug on his hair and the feel of her lips on his skin threatened to short-circuit his brain. "Wait. Callie, talk to me."