Chapter 65
“Don’t you just want to see what else you can melt, Clark?” Jackson asks on a long inhale of breath, looking at me with sad eyes. “Come on, I bet you could melt this whole tree if you wanted to.””
–
“Well, one, that’s not good for the environment,” I say, rolling my eyes at him which makes him laugh, just a little. “And two, no, I don’t want to melt the tree I want to talk about you. Honestly, Jackson, I won’t tell anyone you know I won’t. I won’t even let anyone know that I know! I’ll keep your secret.”
“Why does it even matter, Ari?” he asks, looking away from me. “Why do you want to know so badly? It doesn’t change anything.”
A thousand answers flood my mind. That it could help me understand what I can do how. his power compliments mine. That I want to know more about him. That I’m just so damn
curious.
But, in the end, I settle for the truth.
“I want you to know that you have someone here who will keep your secrets, Jackson,” I say quietly, willing him to believe me.
Jackson looks up at me in surprise, his blue eyes wider than I’ve seen them before.
We’re silent again, but as it has been before with us, there’s no awkwardness to it. But then he breaks it.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” he whispers, half baffled and half…suspicious, I realize. Lik
I’ve got ulterior motives or something.
I stare at him, my heart cracking in grief for the lessons his past life must have taught him.
“Jackson,” I murmur, saying his name like a promise. “Why are you so surprised that I genuinely just…want to be nice to you?”
He turns his face away from me like he’s been struck, staring at the ground beneath the tree in shock and surprise. I watch his profile as he swallows heavily, as he presses his lips
together in frustration or…consternation? Honestly, I don’t know what. But I give him the space to process it.
“I don’t have to eat,” he says suddenly, the words falling from his lips in a rush, like they’ve escaped from a dark place and can’t wait to get away.
“What?” I ask, confused.
He looks at me then, his brows drawn, almost angry as he speaks – but I know not at me. “I don’t have to eat like…ever, if I don’t want to. I mean, eventually, I’d have to eat, but…that’s what I can do.”
“Whoa,” I say, sitting up straighter. “That is….that is seriously weird, Jacks.”
He nods solemnly, agreeing. “I also don’t have to sleep, if I don’t want to, for like…days. Longest I’ve gone is three weeks. And I can run for miles and just….not get tired.”
My eyes go wider as his confession progresses. “And like, nothing happens? You can just go?”
He looks at me then. “I get really skinny after a while,” he says, shrugging. “Oh, and I can eat like…everything.”
I laugh then, shaking my head. “I’m not sure that’s magic,” I say, looking him up and down, “Rafe’s as big as you and he also eats like a horse
“No,” he says, smiling at my laughter, “I mean like…I can eat without stopping for as long as I wanted. And I don’t get full I just get…” he looks down at himself, at his seriously impressive musculature. “…bigger.”
“Really?” I ask, my laughter fading as I look him over anew. “So….could you get as big as an elephant if you kept going?”
“Nah,” he says, smirking, “we tried that once. I think my skeleton’s reached its natural height I just get…fat.”
I laugh then, unable to imagine it. Jackson – he’s very fit, isn’t he? “Wait, how fat?”
He groans, putting his hand over his eyes and then rubbing it down the length of his face.
“So fat, Clark, you don’t even want to know. Thank god there aren’t any pictures.”
“What, did you just like, experiment? To see how long you could push it?”
He shrugs, nodding, turning his face back to me. “Wouldn’t you, if you figured out that that’s what you could do?”
“I suppose,” I murmur, turning my head. “Though didn’t you get bored, when everyone else. was asleep? And like, get sick of the taste of food?”
“Yes!” he says, his eyes going wide as he laughs. “That’s exactly what happened – and nobody gets that. Like, after eighteen blackberry pies…you never want a slice of pie ever again.”
I laugh, squeezing his hand and nodding at him. “It’s really incredible, Jackson,” I sigh, so happy that he told me, so honored that he trusted me enough to keep his secret. “It’s one hell of a power. I wish I could borrow it, would probably keep me up through these long nights of studying.”
“Well,” he says, looking down at our clasped hands. “Maybe you can…”
“What?” I ask, also looking down.
“Clearly, there’s some sort of connection between our…magic,” he murmurs.
Inwardly, I correct him. Us, I think. There’s something between us. But I clench my jaw to keep from blurting it out.
“I think… well, I think that you were able to melt the marble because of whatever connects. our magic,” he says, and I nod, agreeing. “So…maybe I can pass mine to you or something. Who knows.”
“How do we experiment with that?”
Jackson shrugs. “Next time you’re tired, come find me. See if I can pass some energy to you. I’ve got plenty of it – it’s annoying, honestly.”
I grin, pleased to see him talking more casually now, like one would to a real friend.
Or a MATE, my wolf corrects in my mind, trotting anxiously back and forth. She’s pissed, I know, because she wants me to tell him my secrets, to be as open with him as he’s been with me.
Soon. I murmur to her, stroking a hand over her fur. Not yet.
She huffs but lets me be.
“Why is it annoying to have so much energy?” I ask.
“Constantly have to monitor it,” he murmurs, looking into my face now, studying me, I think, in the same ways that I’ve studied him. “It all comes down to what I eat. If I eat too much, it manifests in either sleeplessness or weight gain. If I eat too little, I lose muscle.” He sighs, shaking his head. “It’s annoying, counting calories.”
“Jackson,” I say, dry, raising an eyebrow. “I’ve seen you eat breakfast – that mountain of pancakes?”
He laughs, seeing the direction of this.
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