by Lindsey Iler
“And now, you know I can access anyone”—he glances down to Sarah Beth and then back to me—“whenever I want. You will stay in line. It would be a shame if I had to hurt her.”
“Please leave.” My heart pumps erratically. “Leave her out of this.”
“Oh, come on, Lennox, I just want to play.”
Out of thin air, the figure disappears. It’s as if he was never before me.
Shaken to my core, I stagger backward, taking extra care not to fall over one of Sarah Beth’s many toys. As soon as I’m fully out of the room, a blood curdling scream rattles the entire upstairs. I rush to Sarah Beth’s side, cradling her in my arms, promising her everything will be okay, even when I’m not a hundred percent certain that is true.
“Bad dream?” I whisper into her curly hair. “If it’s just a dream, you’ll be okay.”
“He stood over me,” she blurts through distraught tears. “He stood over me, but his eyes were on you.”
“No one is here, just you and me, Sarah Beth.” I comb my fingers through her hair and slide under the covers to comfort her, to make her feel as if she’s not alone.
“Is everything okay in here?” My father stands at the doorway. My mother watches us over his shoulder.
“We’re okay. Just a bad dream,” I say, hoping they’ll go back to their room.
“Death is easy. Death in spite. We will learn this all tonight.”
I still at her words, worried she’ll feel the fear pulsing through me.
“That’s what he said to me, after he asked me to play.”
“Shhh . . .” I continue to rub her hair until her body grows limp, and she’s no longer afraid of the boogeyman. “Sweet dreams, Sarah Beth,” I whisper into her ear, kissing her on the crown of her head, and standing watch over her.
Time holds no value when a loved one is in danger. That figure, whoever it was, whomever sent him, came with one mission.
To keep me in line.
And when it comes to Sarah Beth, I will always put her safety above anything else.
At the threshold of her bedroom, I watch as her breaths grow more even. I don’t allow my mind to wander too far. Once I do, I won’t be able to find my way back. Once I’m certain she’s asleep, I tiptoe back to my room, flicking off the overhead light and turning on the bathroom light. Darkness has a way of consuming me. I need the safety of the light tonight while I sleep.
Some unknown urge drives me to the window, and when I open the curtains, Edric’s apparition is floating in the darkness. Suddenly, he’s illuminated, covering his mouth with his pointer finger, telling me to be quiet.
A hand covers my mouth, forcing me to drop the draperies and shielding Edric from seeing what’s happening in my room.
“Ughh,” I grunt, kicking and fighting whoever has come for me.
“It’s me,” Edric whispers in my ear.
My racing heart calms. He releases me, grinning when I circle on him.
“It’s not funny.” Tears form in the corner of my eyes, and I pray from Heaven to hell they don’t fall.
“What’s going on? Did something happen?”
At his question, the flood gates open, immediately making me feel weak.
“Something happened, then?” he asks again.
“Do you think I’m the kind of girl who cries for no reason, Edric?” I pace back and forth in front of the window, pulling the curtains back. “Wait a second, how did you . . .” My finger toggles between him and the window. “You know what, don’t tell me. I don’t think I want to know.”
“It’s probably for the best.” He grins. He fucking grins, and immediately, everything around me softens.
“How do you do that?” I ask, sitting on the edge of my bed.
“Do what?” He turns, standing directly in front of me, his eyes on my hands. When he reaches out, I offer mine. With ease, he skims his fingertips over my palms, numbing everything that ails me.
“That.” I take a deep breath, inspecting him. “You’re like some sort of coolant for me. When everything feels like it’s unraveling, you step in, and your touch is like a balm to the burns life has thrown at me.” My skin tingles. A drunken cloud surrounds me, and momentarily, I forget anything else.
“I like you, too.” He has this wild kind of grin, and I want to smack it off his face. I don’t want to admit I like him. “I shouldn’t though.”
“I get that feeling, too,” I whisper, standing to my full height, my hands embraced by Edric’s. “The thing is, I’ve never been much of a rule follower.”
“You and I have that in common, then.” He kisses the corner of my mouth and pulls back to gaze deep into my eyes. “So, let’s forget everyone else, even just for tonight.”
“We’re playing with fire, Edric.” I reach between our tight bodies, flicking the top button of his jeans.
“Your point?”
At his words, I slowly grip the metal zipper and pull it down, biting the corner of my lip to calm myself.
“You ready to get burnt?” I fall to my knees, gazing up at him, loving the way he stares back at me with such fascination.
“Like I said, I don’t mind getting hurt as long as you’re the one inflicting the pain.”
With that kind of devotion, how can I deny him? My hands clutch the waistband of his jeans and pull them down. I grin. He’s not wearing boxer briefs. When I wrap my lips around him, his hiss eggs me on, pushes me to satisfy him until he’s teetering on the edge and eating out of the palm of my hand.
I don’t trust anyone anymore. Edric is no different. One thing he has is my undeniable thirst for him. I’ve gone nineteen years without batting a single eyelash at a boy, not even some deep-seated crush, yet here I am, willing to hand my body, mind, and soul over to a boy I don’t know well, and I sure as hell don’t trust.
As he finishes, I swallow, earning me a pleased grin. His finger grazes the underside of my chin, and I stand.
“I don’t trust you,” I blurt as he bends to pull up his pants. We stand eye-to-eye, neither of us breaking the connection.
“Says the girl who was just on her knees for me.” Cutely, his eyebrow perks up.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want you, Edric, because that much is obvious. My body is made for you. It’s hard not to want to dig my claws into you, claiming every last inch of you for myself.”
“You hand yourself over to me, over and over again, and still you don’t trust me.”
“Can you honestly say you trust me? You’re the one who said our families are enemies, and still, here you stand, inviting me into you, time and time again.”
“So, what do we do with that?” He drops back from me.
Instantly, I miss his touch. Once he hits my vanity, he rests against it, appearing every bit the devil, enticing and constructed from trouble.
“In my mind, there are two options.” I waltz up to him, gliding my finger up and down his chest. “We could give into every last temptation we have for each other.” I rest up on my tip of my toes, flattening my palm on his broad chest. “That’s my favorite option.”
“It’s a solid option.” He inhales a lungful of air when I kiss along his neck.
“And then there’s the other option.” My lips rest against his collarbone. “You can tell me why your brother entered my house tonight and threatened my sister.” With a wide mouth, I bite down, digging deep into his skin until I taste copper.
“Oww!” he squeals like a wounded deer. “What are you talking about?”
“Your brother was in my sister’s room, looming over top of her, threatening me. It was a warning to stay in line and to never disrupt the Peacekeeper,” I explain, licking the blood from my lips.
“The Peacekeeper? I don’t know what that means, Lennox.” He presses his fingers against his skin and pulls them back to see the damage. Blood covers them. “You bit me.”
“Like I said, I don’t necessarily trust you.”
“So that’s what this all has been, you wieldi
ng the best weapon in your arsenal. No one could say no to a body like yours, and you used it against me.”
“No, everything between us has been true. The heat, the undeniable sexual tension, every drop of it has been honest, but I will not sit around and allow you to weasel your way into my life only to strike me down.”
“It couldn’t have been my brother in your room. He’s not even home. He went to visit our aunt,” he explains.
“He told me he just wanted to play for a little while.” I cross my arms over my chest.
If I hadn’t been paying attention, I wouldn’t have seen the slip in Edric’s composure. He knows it had to have been his brother. It’s the same thing his brother said to us in Edric’s bedroom the first time I was in their home.
“I’ll get to the bottom of this, Lennox, but I promise, I have nothing to do with it,” Edric says, walking past me toward the window. He turns before he leaves. “And let me make myself clear. Don’t ever sink your teeth into my skin again, unless you’re unraveling beneath me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Edric
I yawn, descending the stairs. After leaving Lennox’s room last night, I wasn’t sure what I should do. In the darkness is where my family likes to keep me.
Now with the morning sun beaming through the windows, everything is starting to make a lot more sense. The question is why would Hunter go into Sarah Beth’s room and threaten her? He only does as he’s told. I don’t want to believe it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if my family used scare tactics to keep Lennox in line.
“What is your name?” my father yells from behind his pretentious marble desk. When I don’t answer him, choosing silence to be more fun, he rests forward on his elbows. He thinks he can strong-arm me into admitting something I have no intentions of admitting. “What is your name, Son?”
“Do we really need to play this game? As fun as this back-and-forth, cat-and-mouse game is, I’m rather exhausted.” I lean against the doorframe of his office, wishing I could flip that fucking thing and bury him underneath it.
“Oh, no, you don’t get to disrespect this family, make a mockery of our name, and get away with it!” A hand clamps down on my shoulder. Much like me, he can be anywhere at any time. It makes it hard to get away.
This is the thing. He truly believes I understand what he’s talking about and should fall in line, because he tells me exactly that. If one thing the Blackstone name has given me, it’s an ironclad backbone. I don’t bend for anyone, even my own father.
“Why don’t you enlighten me on why Lennox Callahan is considered a sin in this family?”
We stand chest to chest, neither willing to back down. The strength in my spine is straight from my father, and he’s fully aware. It’s why he fights a grin.
“There are things you don’t know,” he tries to explain, giving me a rice-sized bit of information. He thinks it will appease my hunger, but it won’t.
“Secrets don’t stay buried for long. Yours will catch up to you,” I say.
“A man with my strength, my power, never worries about what’s to catch up to him.”
“An old clock is bound to stop ticking.” I tap my finger on his chest and leave him with nothing but my words and my back staring at him.
The house is quiet, no sign of Hunter anywhere. After a quick check of his bedroom, it’s obvious he isn’t around.
“Mom!” I yell, poking my head into my parents’ bedroom to find it empty. “Mom!”
“I’m in here,” she calls.
She sits at the kitchen table, a spoon spinning in her teacup without the help of her hand.
“Where is Hunter?” I ask, grabbing the spoon and tossing it in the sink. The metal clinks and clanks until it settles at the bottom of the basin, but my mother is unmoved.
“He ran off to retrieve something for me, but he should be back in time for our dinner guests,” she announces as if it’s completely normal to invite people over for a dinner this late.
Even in our old town, guests were never welcome. We keep a safe distance for a reason. Different doesn’t mix well with normalcy. We are vinegar and oil to each other.
“And who may we be poisoning tonight with your cooking?” I joke, leaning against the counter. The frail metal stools don’t look strong enough to hold my weight.
“Mayor Callahan, his wife, and their children.” She tilts her head to side-eye me as she sips whatever concoction she’s created. “Is that a problem?”
“Is that a problem?” I chuckle at her ridiculousness. She can’t be serious.
“Yes, Edric, is it okay for us to invite them over for dinner? You spend so much time with their wretched daughter, your father and I thought it might do us all well to spend a little quality time together.” She turns her back to me, whistling as she walks to the stove.
“Do I have a choice?” I turn to leave, earning me a dark chuckle.
“You brought this on yourself. Simple rules for simple minds, Edric, and you couldn’t even follow them. You’re a disappointment and a disgrace to the Blackstone name, and now you get to live with another’s blood on your hands.”
“You can’t hurt her.” My entire body trembles and there is no way for me to hide it.
“When are you going to figure it out? We don’t need to grace our hands upon someone for them to feel our wrath. Your father and I will handle your little mishap, and from this point forward, you will stay in line. You will not disobey this family.” Her face doesn’t shift, but stays completely straight like a true psychopath.
Listening to her demands, fury floods my veins. The anger, the animosity, this family has instilled in me to unload on others, threatens to appear. This is the last thing they want. When certain beasts are unleashed, there is no caging them.
My talents forced their way out of my body when I turned ten. My anger became uncontrollable, creating chaos within our family. No one knew what to do with me.
I close my eyes and take three deep breaths, and for a second, the red tamps down.
That is, until I hear her chuckle under her breath.
I circle on her. My fingers tingle, and I wrap them around her delicate throat, pushing her back toward the hot stovetop. The tips of her hair singe in the open flame.
“We are family, that much you have correct, but, bitch, don’t think for a second I’m going to sit back and watch you hurt her.” I lower her an inch, the burner heat on my fingers. “Sometimes it’s wise to know when to yield some of the control. Now would be that time.”
“Edric!” My father’s voice booms through the kitchen, echoing off the tiled floors. “Release her.”
As powerful as I am, I’ll never amount to the kind of strength my father possesses. We are different, and somehow, very much the same. Our minds are cut from the same cloth, as my grandfather used to say.
“And why would I do that?” I press.
“Release her now, Edric, or deal with the consequences,” he threatens.
I tighten my grip, satisfied to hear her sputter for a decent breath.
It’s do or die.
With a quick push, her cheek barely hits the flame, and she wails in agony. There’s no reason to look back. I smell the burnt flesh, hear it singe. They won’t receive any repentance from me. No apology will be given, because I don’t feel anything.
I raise my hand, dismissing myself and head straight for the front door. Desperate for fresh air, I open the backyard shed. My dusty, neglected motorcycle begs for a good rip through town. With the leather seat under me, I toss the helmet to the cement floor and back out.
The rhythm from the engine purrs a song I’ve longed to hear since arriving in Belle Meade. I had been instructed to put it away where it couldn’t be seen by onlookers, to play the perfect doting son. Lennox and I may be worlds different, but we do have one thing in common—the undeniable responsibility to play the part we were born into.
I wonder if she ever feels the weight heavy on her chest? Or if, when it seems it can�
��t get any tougher, when she’s about to tap out for good, they lift it enough to allow a single breath? It offers a moment for thoughts to be collected and minds strengthened, then it’s there again, pushing and stealing. It’s a relief without actually being one.
The streets of Belle Meade are quiet, eerily so. Wind whips past me, cutting at my skin. My wheels hit the main strip through town, and I hit the throttle, surging forward. The speedometer screams at me to slow down. The opposite is screaming from my limbs. I’m riding the wind, weaving through the curves, and bending with the twists, nearly skirting off the road when the rubble turns loose.
Dust flies behind me, and I pull up the driveway and park beside Garrison’s Audi. The brand-new rims and candy apple red paint job are too flashy for my liking, but we all have our own version of indiscreet.
“I need you to come with me,” I announce my entrance with a demand.
Garrison looks up from his book, and covers his mouth with a finger, informing me we aren’t alone. He points to the room beside us, and I hear the arguing.
My uncle’s voice is loud, commanding, and still, I can’t quite hear what has him riled.
“They’ve been bickering for the better half of the hour,” Garrison whispers.
“And you’ve been, what, eavesdropping on them, pretending to be fully immersed in your book?”
“Actually, my not so intelligent cousin, I’m doing research into your little predicament. Unlike you, who’s assaulting his mother and using his powers to diddle the mayor’s daughter.”
“Diddle, really? What are we, twelve?” I shake my head.
“You’re telling me you haven’t been using a little”—he wiggles his fingers—“magic on her?”
“I’m not a witch. It’s not magic,” I defend my actions.
“If you can touch someone from across the room, then it’s fucking magic,” Garrison argues.
A memory of me smacking the back of his head from across the room flashes through his mind, and I grin, remembering the day he learned of one of my many talents.
I suppose he’s right.
Our family history is thick with talents. We’re cut from the same hardened stone straight from the belly of hell. We are demons, not the kind seen on television or in old movies, but a new generation. We lurk amongst the humans, undetected. No one knows what we are capable of, not even us.
