Finite: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 4)

by Felisha Antonette

  “Argh.”

  This room is no safer than the other. If I lay here any longer, I’ll start believing these hallucinations I’m seeing are real, and that I could walk right up to Mom, standing with her back to me as she fiddles around in the drawer, and wrap my arms around her.

  I get up from the bed and head for the door. As I pass the dresser, I purposely walk too close to it, just in case my assumptions are inverted. She’s not here.

  Desperate for some fresh air, I leave the house to the backyard and stroll along the water bank, overlooking the large lake. On its other side, which takes a boat to cross, the sun beams against the backside of other houses, reflecting in the windows. The icy breeze nips at my cheeks, but I like how it reminds me I’m still here.

  Nathan’s voice comes before I see him appear. Holding a casual conversation about oak trees, muscle cars, and train rides, he invades in my stroll as though he’s been here the entire time. I grumble.

  It’s like this all day, and I hate it.

  Mom, Dad, Nathan, Glen, even Scott. Natalia makes an appearance and to her, though she discusses flowers hanging on gutters, I apologize for breaking my promise. My words go unsung as these ghosts are nothing but my imagination. With my eyes open or closed, I’m haunted by them—by their smiles and their bright voices. I should be grateful, but it’s a punishment, not a gift.

  I stay outside until the sun goes down. I’ve lost feeling in my fingers and toes, and I can see my breath as I exhale.

  Under the moon, I sit at the dock, feet dangling over the diamond black water. I periodically kick its surface with my toe and watch it ripple. Second to the hallucinations, I’m troubled by the things I’ve tried to pack away like figuring out the intentions of the Qualms and why they care about a dead Burdened or a girl clinging to the skirts of life because my family has asked me to.

  Though they’ve not made any appearances since I’ve been back, I sense them still out there. I feel them watching us, waiting for the right time to make their move. Silence is often golden, but at other times, it’s threatening.

  I wake up on the dock behind the house. Like all my yesterdays, there is a gloomy cast over the day, even with the sun shining. It snowed during the night, and I should be an icicle, but my snake of fire is still circling around me, battling the chill.

  I sit up, tucking my knees beneath me. “Thanks. I missed you, buddy.” It nuzzles my hand, and I pet its head before it snakes back into my palm.

  It’s Saturday, I think. Everyone’s still sleeping when I walk back into the house, so I ease the back door closed. From the bedroom, I grab my bag and creep back out of the house to my apartment. As light climbs into the sky, I take the long hike to the nearest bus stop that’ll carry me to the city. The bus comes shortly after I arrive, and I drop a couple of bucks in quarters to board.

  Along the city streets, Christmas stockings hang from the streetlights while artificial Christmas trees stand in windows of stores. I tap the bundled person sitting beside me. “Has Christmas gone or is it coming?”

  She yanks her purple earmuffs down to her neck and snaps, “Excuse me?”

  I flinch at her aggression. “Sorry. Never mind,” I mutter, turning back to the window.

  She yanks her earmuffs back over her dark hair and rolls her dark eyes as she looks away from me.

  “It’s coming,” comes from behind me.

  I don’t turn around to him, but say, “Thanks.”

  My stop’s coming up, and I ease past the angry passenger. “Pardon me.” I hop off the bus and walk another couple of blocks. Relief washes over me when my building’s insight. I’m still a block away, but the five-story rise peeks over the commercial stores as if a light from heaven beamed upon it.

  I quicken my steps and make it to the dingy door. I thrust open the building door and rush up the stairs to the third floor, down the hall to the left, and straight for the fifth door on the right.

  Inches from grabbing the knob, I pause.

  The door’s ajar, panel broken from the wall.

  “Hey, girl?”

  I turn and meet the eyes of a neighbor whom I’ve only seen through the peephole.

  She hugs her door as she’s peeking around it to reveal the news. “These people came with the blue boys eager to get in there. I thought they were raiding the place! They came out madder than they went in.” Pink-streaked hair stiffly hangs around her head. Her eyelids droop over her eyes, though she sounds wide awake by how direct her voice is.

  “Did they say what they were looking for?” I ask.

  “Nah. That wasn’t none of my business.” A baby’s cry sends her back into her apartment. She closes the door without the concern for a goodbye or my thank you.

  I face my door and nudge it open with my right elbow. There was a welcome mat that sat in front of the door, it’s in shreds, scattered across the floor. I step over the tall corner lamp snapped in two. The morning light shining through the dirty window reflects off the shattered light bulb. The stuffing from the pillows gets stuck to the bottom of my wet shoes as I cross the cracked wood floor.

  In the middle of the living space, I look over the open area that’s been ransacked. I didn’t have much, but what was here, whoever broke in, made sure to destroy it.

  It hits me.

  I race to the corner of the kitchen where the floor creaks a little louder and one of the wood planks move. Slipping my finger into a crack, I crick it and lift the loose wood that opens to a small hole in the floor where I’ve stashed my priceless possessions.

  I sigh with relief, seeing they’re still here. Thank goodness.

  Without unraveling the cloth, I stuff it in my back pocket and rise from the floor.

  There’s a creak.

  I whip around.

  I’m tackled to the floor, impact causing the room to shake. The creature claws and slaps at my face, snarling as it absorbs my attacks without a display of discomfort. I do my best to guard my face against the scratches to at least get a good look at my attacker, but I can’t make out the face.

  When it wraps its skinny fingers around my neck and squeezes, I stare at it. I study it, unable to make out the monster. As I do so, my eyes narrow and a thick film slips over them.

  The creature lurches away, scratching my neck on its release. It tucks itself in a corner, crouching to prepare for another attack.

  I stand from the floor, looking in its illuminated yellow eyes. I expect the cloud of fog that shadows the skeleton of half the Qualm’s being, or the grayish complexion and black lips of the other half, but what stands across from me, I take a minute to recognize.

  Faylaman . . . Maybe? Scaly, hard, brown flesh that look like it should be on a snake instead of a person. A slender face and frame with big eyes staring me down. There’s something off about it though. Something flashes in his eyes every it blinks.

  I don’t let it deter me.

  I charge across the room, readying a ball of fire in my hands, and I draw back.

  It retracts, hands raised in surrender. “Wait. Wait!” it pleads.

  I don’t wait. I blast it again and then again, then I release my vines to pin it to the wall. “What are you doing here?” I demand.

  Its eyes widen. “Seeing, I beg you. Do not see past me.” Fear takes hold of its expression, and it bursts into a dark mist before fading. I jump back, scampering away from it.

  “What the hell,” I mutter. “Did I just kill him or did he vanish?” I ask aloud. “Can they even do that? Can Faylamen disperse like that? Could it have been both?” It’s not uncommon for Faylamen to accept the possession of a Qualm. Whatever it was, it was more afraid of me than I was of it, and I don’t know what to make of it.

  I sit on the floor of my apartment, looking over my haven. My place is a bust. No way can I stay here if they’re scouting for me. Before I head out for good, I look around once more, letting my gaze wash over the grimy windows, the rotting ceiling, the dingy wood, and the new holes in the walls. I kick
aside the shredded blankets as I cross the floor to pick up the pieces of my shattered mugs. Its ceramic pieces mix in with the other trash that’s waiting to be swept up.

  Them trashing my home doesn’t bother me. Not in the least. What matters most to my heart is safe—it was saved—and I can walk away fine with this. I’ll have to find a way to deal with being back at the house and sharing that space with the ghosts who haunt me.

  I sigh and pull my bag onto my shoulder. “All right, little hut, you did your job. Thank you.” I look in each corner. “Anything else interested in coming after me. . . You know where to find me.”

  If I knew it would get me some answers to why they’re after me, I would allow them to capture me. What weight does who I am hold that would cause such fear in that thing that attacked me? Seeing is all I can do, and what use is that to something that wants to take over the humans or the Sephlems.

  I release a breath as I close the door behind me, not bothering to lock it though I pull it shut. I’ll miss the peace, but I guess it’s time to put together my pieces.

  The tension is thick on the bus ride back. Since I left the building, I’ve felt like someone’s watching me. I sit six rows from the front door, and I scan the faces, wanting to catch the eyes of the person burning a hole through my head.

  No one’s looking in my direction.

  My stop is next. I’m the only one to stand and get off. Maybe it’s my imagination. Chislon and Laine have caused me to become on edge with their ‘they’re after you,’ theories, and that vermin attacking me in my apartment.

  The walk from the bus stop to the house is about an hour long. The night air is frigid, but it doesn’t bother me as much as the person standing in the street, in front of my driveway. Her dark, short bob blows in the wind, whipping across her eyes that have not torn away from me. My first memory of Lana is of us racing through Lunis’ corridors to rescue her. That thought carries me to what Olar had mentioned the other day, about her acting weird lately. Weird enough that he’s questioning if they were worth saving.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask when I make it before her.

  Her expression morphs from a scowl to concern. “Where’ve you been? We’ve been worried sick!” she exclaims, throwing her limp arms around my neck.

  “I’ve been around.” I shuffle out of her hug and head for the house.

  “You can’t just wander off, Tracey. Not with those things out there. Even an enemy from your past can be brought back and fill a corpse or a living being willing to share their body.”

  “What would you know about it,” I grumble, continuing past her and up the driveway to the front door of our home.

  She sighs. “We are the only family you have now, Tracey. You can be open with us.”

  It’s not what she says, but how she says it. It would have been easy to ignore had she not put the evil emphasis on only. I’m painfully aware that the family I have left is limited to those in our house, and I’d do better without the reminder.

  Willing the film to help me see, I meet her eyes.

  A smug smile smooths her lips, and though she’s rubbing me the wrong way, she’s herself. So I say, “Good night, Lana,” and turn away, heading in the house. Lana has always been a little weird, ever since she decapitated her sister in the foyer. It’s like that day a doppelganger replaced her and has been secretly working for Lunis ever since.

  He is her brother, after all . . .

  I throw a glance over my shoulder. Lana’s coming up the driveway, smiling with relief.

  Maybe it’s just me, and everyone is just being weird about my return.

  Dear No One

  Plenty of peaceful tomorrows come and go. Life’s not perfect, but peace is all I can ask for. Peace, I’m grateful for.

  Our first Christmas Eve back together is epic. Courtney’s made it snow in the house, and Jason loves every minute, even clean up. We light the fireplace and drink milk and eat cookies while we wait for Santa’s arrival. We’ve planned for tonight for days, but Jason’s knocked out before Little Nathan can drop down the chimney in his Santa Claus costume.

  Little Nathan snatches off his hat and throws to floor. He’s bummed out because Jason’s been complaining about not being able to leave the house and go see Santa like he sees on TV. We’re training him on how to control his shifting so he can better maintain his human-like façade. It’s been a struggle for him. His skin will mutate, or his eyes will suddenly change, but he’s not giving up, and what’s better, he does an amazing job at controlling his anger.

  On Christmas day, Jason’s a bouncing bundle of energy, attacking his gifts like a Cheetah would its prey. I’ve never seen anyone more excited. We all exchange gifts and sing Christmas carols the rest of the day, before snuggling up by the fireplace and watching the last of the Christmas movies we won’t see again until next year.

  Coming back was worth it. Especially to bring in the New Year with the Newcombs. The laughs, bright smiles, and their constant high energy relieves me from my darkness. Clean up isn’t all that great, but to shoot off fireworks with my hands, and chug down all the cream soda my body can handle while we bring in next year is a blast.

  It’s February now, and well, I’m kind of happy. Last month, I enrolled in school, starting with Little Nathan and Carmen. Tracey Warren, Freshman at Bennington University. It’s not cheap either. So, I pick up a job at a coffee shop not far from campus. It’ll be enough to cover books, and financial aid kicks in to help cover classes.

  I attend classes two to three hours a day, proudly sitting through lectures and making study buddies. I go to work three to four days a week, laughing with my co-workers and downing whip cream topped espresso. It’s the life I’ve dreamed for myself my entire senior year of high school, except I didn’t intend to stay here in Bennington.

  “Hey, Tracey. You want to go out with us this weekend? There’s a party at the Gamma house tonight.” Crystal, who works evenings with me, stays at one party or another whenever the opportunity arises. She’s a bouncing bundle of joy wrapped in deep chocolate skin and black, long silky hair. “It’s supposed to be the biggest party of the year.” She moved here from India seven months ago and is proud of quickly she mastered the American accent. “You should come.”

  I top the last of four coffee cups and pass them to the waiting customer. “Enjoy!” I say with a smile. Leaning against the counter, I decline, “I need to get home and study. Two mid-terms tomorrow, and my third on Friday.”

  “You know Tracey will not hang out with us. She only kicks it with that tall cutie with those green eyes and girly with the curly brown hair. Your brother and sister, right?” Shannon, the third of us who locks up, asks.

  It took her a while to warm up to me, placing judgment. I believe her exact whisper to Crystal was ‘uptight bitch who’s never had to work a day in her life.’ I let her think what she wanted and gave her space until she started up a conversation. Turns out I’m not an uptight bitch and she’s not a full-on asshole.

  “He’s my brother, and she’s my cousin.” I grab the broom and head over to lock the door. “One day, I promise I’ll grab lunch with you two, but I’m not the partying type.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Shannon nags, flipping her butt-length braids over her shoulder.

  We clean the store and lock up for the night. Little Nathan and Carmen are right on time, meeting me out front. The coffee shop is in the middle of an outside mall, tucked in between a hat shop and a shoe store. We close at nine, and Little Nathan’s last class ends at eight. Carmen just hangs around until then, shopping. My shift starts at five, and I’m usually out of class by four-thirty, so everything really flows together. I’m used to the schedule. I’ve finally got a grip on my life and everything is ‘normal-ing’ out. Though the air’s still sour and a slightly murky cast is over the world I see, I’m lighter and life seems a bit easier. The separation spasms are easier to manage and don’t nearly affect me the way they used to six months ago. So they were rig
ht. Being around family makes the death of a mate a lot easier.

  “What are we eating tonight,” Carmen asks, sipping the soy latte I make her every night I work.

  “I say Thai,” Little Nathan suggests. “I’ve got a lot of homework. I need something that won’t make me tired.”

  “Me too,” I add.

  “Thai it is!” Carmen cheers, grabbing her phone. She’s met a new guy that’s been taking up a lot of her attention. And, with Courtney and Cartel on family business, assisting in Oregon with a Nemanite issue and then they’re off to Canada to give their support to our family out there . . . Carmen’s free as a bird.

  Not too far from the house, we stop at a fast food Thai restaurant where Carmen’s placed our order. “I’ll get it,” I offer, exiting the backseat and jogging through the opened door to the restaurant.

  “Hello,” the girl behind the counter greets with a smile. “Picking up?”

  I approach counter. “Yes, for Carmen.”

  She nods and checks the names on the bagged food sat on the counter behind her. Finding it, she turns and places it on the counter before me. “That’ll be twenty-five dollars and thirteen cents.”

  Snagging the cash from my back pocket, I hand her exact change and reach for the food. She snatches it out of my grasp. “What’s up?” I ask, reaching for the bag again. “I paid.”

  She smirks. I blink. Something flashes within her appearance. Knitting my brows, I blink again. The film slips over my eyes. My sight doesn’t dim, but the girl mutates into a scaly brown creature with glowing yellow eyes. Her skin appears hard to the touch, and her smirk’s not evil but deceitful. “I hope you’re enjoying life,” it says.