Free The Soul Mate by Madeline Sheehan Page B

before you know how to use it?” He
grinned. “I may be beautiful but I’m not stupid.”
    “It’s so hot.” I whined. It was late
afternoon, the temperature was unbearable, and the extra fires that
had been lit around camp were only uncomfortably adding to the
summer heat.
    Xan was sitting on the grass, the guns
in-between his spread legs. He wiped his forehead on his shoulder.
“Speaking of, would you tie up my hair? My hands are filthy.”
    I trudged over to him. “I don’t have any hair
ties.”
    “Just tie it up in one big knot.”
    Thick with pencil thin dreads, his hair hung
down to his waist. I separated the dreads into two handfuls and
tried to tie them together in a giant bow. He laughed as I
struggled. It didn’t look nearly as neat as when he did it
himself.
    “Your hair is annoying.” I plopped down next
to him. I watched, fascinated by how he disassembled and
reassembled the weapons which such ease.
    “But beautiful,” He said in a mock serious
tone. “My mamă said so.”
    “She has to say that. Not only is she your
mommy, but she does your dreads for you.”
    I stuck my tongue out at him and quickly
slipped it back in my mouth when he tried to grab it with his
greasy fingers.
    “Ugh, gross,” I yelled and rolled away from
him right onto a rather large and familiar pair bare feet.
    Oh Gods. I looked up. And up, and saw Gerik
looking down at me.
    “What are you doing?” He practically
growled.
    “Nothing,” I said, closing my eyes and
congratulating myself on my superior ability to make a bad
situation worse with my horrible conversation skills.
    “Okay,” He drew the word out slowly. “Then
come with me, yeah?” Bending down he offered me his hand as if he
actually expected me to take it. I looked at his hand. Was he
crazy? Did he actually think I was going to touch him right here in
front of Xan?
    Realizing his mistake, he retracted the hand
and shoved it in his jeans pocket. I pushed myself into a sitting
position and looked up at him. His lips thinned as he realized I
wasn’t going to be standing up anytime soon.
    “I think I’m just, uh, gonna stay here for
awhile,” I hedged.
    His eyes blazed pure white, all color had
disappeared. “Why?” He bit out.
    I glared at him, suddenly angry that he was
angry. “Because,” I retorted, sounding childish.
    Xan laughed loudly. “Oh for shits sake frate,
Trin just wants to learn how to shoot, that’s all. Why don’t you go
re-learn how to breathe normally and by the time you’re done with
that, she’ll be back in your lap again. Safe and sound and
untouched.” Xan emphasized the word ‘untouched’.
    Gods, what exactly had Gerik said to him?
    Gerik glanced at Xan then back at me, the
muscles in his face twitching. I sucked in a breath. He was going
to lose it. I stood quickly, ready to go to him before he did
anything stupid.
    “I’ll see you later, yeah?” He said
surprising me as his eyes bled back to blue. “But Trinity?”
    I raised my eyebrows in question.
    “Don’t touch his hair again.”
    Embarrassed by Gerik’s display of ownership,
I refused to look at Xan as Gerik walked back to the living
lot.
    “You okay?” Xan asked after awhile.
    I nodded jerkily.
    “Good. Catch.” He tossed a dirty rag at me.
“Make yourself useful before we start dry rifle drills.”
    We worked in silence for a few minutes. “Did
Gerik ever tell you the deal with his hair fată?”
    I gave Xan a mocking look. “They’re braids,
what’s to tell? I figured he’s vain about his hair. Sorta like
you.”
    That earned me a loud snort.
    “The braiding and unbraiding of the hair is a
ritual of sorts you know, one that has been passed down from the
several Scandinavian family clans for hundreds of generations.
Before men would go to battle their women would plait their hair,
locking their strength and power in place, keeping them safe until
they came home to them again.
    They kept their braids in until they came
home and only their