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

by Felisha Antonette

  There’s a glimmer in his eyes that says otherwise, but I don’t fight him on it. “I get it. You’re just upset.”

  “I’ve always wanted so bad to have a family. To not be alone. And this asshole comes milking that desire. What’s worse, he resembles me. I’m taller than him, but I could see me in his features. Son of a bitch,” he mutters. “Sorry. I just didn’t want to be by myself tonight. Today. That’s the real reason I popped up at your job today and stole you away from your people. I’ve got some friends, but not that I can be . . .”

  “Vulnerable with?” I offer.

  “I don’t like that soft ass word. But, be honest with. Or angry with. Or let me express myself without making them uncomfortable. I didn’t know if you would or not, but I don’t know.” His shoulders bump in a shrug. “I guess I’m comfortable enough with you.”

  I nudge him and joke, “You’re not always this happy-go-lucky cute guy with a heart of kindness who’d help a girl juggling bags by getting a door for her, or give her a towel when her smoothie smashed in her face?”

  He laughs once. “Kind of.” He goes quiet, and for a very long time. Mr. Newcomb is dead. There’s no way whoever this man was, was him. So, what would be trying to convince Nathan he was his father? And after all this time . . . ? And him needing, maybe, a body part? A body? Like the Qualms trying to possess us? Could they be after him too? Maybe I’ve led them to him. I hold my breath and think this over. No way. At least I hope not.

  The band stopped playing hours ago. It’s just us, and the rides squeak from the wind blowing them a bit too roughly.

  “What’s on your mind, Tracey,” he asks as if I was the one who had a bad day.

  I want to grab your hand and kiss the knuckle of your thumb as I’m pushing happiness in you that I hope will turn you into the man I’ve grown used to over the past months. I want you to look at me with familiar eyes and know exactly who I am to you so I don’t have to pretend that I’m not missing you waking up next to me, that I’m not craving your kiss, that I’m not dying for you to hold me in your arms while you put me to sleep when the night terrors haunt me. I sigh. “Too much to admit to,” I answer honestly.

  “Want me to drop you off at home?”

  “No.” I snuggle closer to him and lay my head on his shoulder. He adjusts to wrap his arm around me, and I lay against him. “Whenever you’re ready to go, then I am. No rush.”

  “Thank you.”

  I end up falling asleep against him. He doesn’t mention it. I wake and look up at Nathan, sleeping. Though my nap is short, it was the best thirty minutes I’ve had in a long time. I gently shake him. “Hey sleepy head, you dozed off.”

  He stretches. “You dozed off first.”

  I grin, sitting up. “I guess you’re right. Let’s go. It’s cold.”

  Nathan drives me home, and I give him directions all the way to the front door of our home, which is a first for us.

  “Cut the lights,” I say before he pulls into the driveway. “I don’t want to wake them.”

  He nods and cuts the engine. “Next weekend—want to go on a road trip?”

  “Um . . .” I nervously rub the front of my neck. Road trip?

  “No pressure. I’m going so if you don’t, I won’t be around for a few days.”

  Shit . . . Yes, I definitely want to go, but I can’t go missing for days. Everyone’s already been up my ass about where I’ve been most nights, and lying about Nathan is really weighing on me. But, “Yes. Let’s do it.”

  “Cool!” He smiles brightly, eyes lighting up. “Thanks for tonight. Sorry I bombarded you with my shit.”

  “What else are friends for, Nate?”

  Waggling his brows, he says, “You’d be surprised. See you later, Tracey. Call me/”

  “Kay.” I get out and gently close the door. I wave when I make it to the front door, and he backs out of the driveway and turns the light on when he makes it back onto the street.

  I enter a quiet house and creep to my bedroom where I don’t bother to change my clothes. I fall onto the bed, exhausted, and pray the alarm clock has mercy when it’s ready to go off in a few hours.

  This is What it Takes

  Thank sweet baby Jesus I don’t have to work today. I can hear the bed calling me from the driveway. I don’t bother parking in the garage. Out of the car and up to my room, I make it to the entrance, drop to my knees, and crawl my tired legs across the floor. Lying next to the bed, I snatch down a pillow and the cover and close my eyes just long enough to doze off.

  “Tracey?” Laine comes in.

  I grumble. “Please, just ten minutes.” Nathan and I had plans today after I got out of class, and I couldn’t believe how happy I was when he canceled. He got this opportunity to design a website for some huge property developer that’s going to bring him in a couple of thousand bucks, so he’ll spend the next few days doing that. Surprisingly, he was embarrassed about last night, allowing his vulnerability to show and our friendship maturing to a place where he could do so, so fast. It’s taken over a month to get to this point and has felt like forever to me. He thought I’d be bummed about him blowing me off today, but I kindly let him know to take as much time as he needed, and I’d be around whenever he needed me. I just want to sleep.

  “Why are you on the floor?” Laine asks.

  “I was too tired to make it to the bed,” I mumble, also too tired to open my mouth wider.

  Laine sits with his back to the bed, in a clear enough view for me to part my lids and look downward, past my feet, to see him. “What?”

  “It’s been really quiet,” he says.

  “Eerie quiet,” Little Nathan comes in and lays across the bed.

  My heart skips a beat. “Why are both of you in here?”

  “Why have you been sneaking out of the house the last couple of months? What are you doing?”

  “You’ve been sneaking out of the house?” Laine asks. His accent peaking the syllables of his high-pitched interrogation. “What’s going on? Are you going back to your apartment?”

  “Not anymore. . .” I mutter. “Nothing. I’ve just. Um. Taking strolls. Sitting under the moon. Stuff. Hanging out with a few friends.” I avoid Little Nathan’s eyes, sometimes feeling like he can read the lies in mine. “Anything to keep my mind busy.”

  Laine rubs my lower leg. “You’ll be fine. Back to what I was saying. It’s been quiet, right? No visitors? No Qualms popping up? Even that one guy . . . uh.”

  “Tarleton. Well, that’s who he looks like,” Little Nathan says.

  “His name is Chislon,” I say.

  “That’s it,” Laine says with a snap. “Without you,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “we’ve been meeting with Nemanites and Mulens, and on a search for as much information as we can to find out why the Qualms suddenly started flooding into our lands and stealing people’s bodies.”

  “And I suppose you found something?” I say, pulling the cover over my shoulder.

  “They’ve retreated into observing, in search of their Seeing of Death.”

  My eyes shoot open, remembering Nathan mentioning his father popping up.

  “We think,” Little Nathan emphasizes. “We’re not one hundred percent. But it seems like they’ve gone astray with their hunt. This is why we’ve not seen them around or coming after you.”

  “Great,” I cheer dryly. “I’m no longer on Laine’s hit list.” I laugh softly, ribs sore from my uncomfortable laying position when I slept against Nathan last night.

  Laine pops me on the knee. “Maybe I was wrong about you, but that means nothing. We wanted to give you the news, but I’d still stay under their radar if I were you.”

  I turn onto my back and prop my feet on Laine’s lap. “Speaking of staying under the radar. Guess what?” I say excitedly to Little Nathan. His brows rise and smile steals his face. “I saw Caige. I killed him.”

  “Whoo!” Little Nathan cheers and thrusts his hand forward. I meet his high five. “Now that’s the best new
s I’ve heard all day.”

  “How? When?” Laine asks. “Why are you just now telling us? You might’ve caused an uproar!”

  I roll my eyes. “Apparently I didn’t. You said it yourself. It’s been quiet.”

  Laine runs his hand through his silver hair. “Well, maybe. But they wanted you for a reason. We just don’t know what that was. So let’s fly low and let me know what’s going on.”

  “Un-hun.” I turn back onto my side. Laine’s not wrong. Remembering Chislon’s warning and what they’ve put me through, there was definitely something they wanted. I’ll find out, eventually. But first, with this new information and whoever this ‘father’ is that approached him, I can’t leave Nathan in the dark. I don’t know what I’m going to say, but I have to do something. And I’m tired of lying.

  My phone buzzes beneath me. I ignore it.

  It goes off again.

  Laine and Little Nathan have gotten comfortable; Little Nathan’s on the bed, snoring, and Laine sits with his legs crossed over mine, playing or whatever on his phone.

  As I’m dozing, the phone rings again.

  “You gonna get that?” Laine drones.

  I turn the phone over to Nathan’s name staring back at me. I answer it, smashing the volume button to turn him all the way down. “Hi,” I answer casually.

  “Hey, you remember when you’d call somebody and have to ask to speak with them? Because a household would share a landline?” He laughs. “I used to hate that.”

  I snicker. “Did you call me to reminisce about past communication methods?”

  “Not really. You get some sleep? Sorry I kept you up so late last night.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You mind if I call you later. I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

  “No, you’re not, Black Eyes,” Laine says, standing. “You’re just lying there. Why lie?”

  Because it’s the only way I can be around him. “Please shut up.”

  Nathan talks over me. “If you want to go out tonight, there’s a party. I know I said I was going to stay in, but I hit a roadblock and need to give my brain a break. Get some new ideas. So, tonight?”

  “Of course.”

  “Kay. Pick me up at ten. I’ll text you the address.”

  “Bye.”

  Laine stands in the doorway, looking over his shoulder. “You’ll be sneaking out again tonight?”

  “No. Mind your business.” I pull the cover over my head and force myself to sleep.

  “Nate, I’m outside if you’re ready to come down.”

  “I’ll be down in two minutes. It takes me a minute to get the TV to turn off.”

  Laughing, I mumble, “O . . . kay.”

  He’s out in more like five and gets in the passenger’s seat. I wait for his greeting, but he says nothing as he pulls on his seatbelt. It’s not until he’s settled that he asks, “Do you mind alcohol?”

  “I don’t drink. But I don’t mind it.”

  “Cool. I’m not drinking either.”

  “You don’t or you’re just not drinking tonight?”

  “I do. But, I only do so away from people when I’ve had a really fucked up day and need to be numb for a bit. You sure you’re okay with being around me so often? We’re still pretty new to each other.”

  “That’s an off-topic question,” I say nervously. I’d not thought about it, if this question came up, what I’d say. I’ve never really dated or randomly met people outside of school or just met up places and made friends, like Shannon often talks about doing. I hope the approach that I’ve been taking with Nathan is normal. If it’s not, he’s not mentioned anything. “That’s how friends become friends, right?”

  “But why us? Grant it, I’m a damn good friend to have, but you don’t seem like the type to go out with a stranger, especially after what you’ve gone through.”

  Scraping my nail across my eyebrow, I mutter, “Well, I am.”

  “You’re not. I can tell. Plus, there’s that look in your eyes . . . The sadness. You try to hide it. You do a good job at it too. And it’s diminished greatly over the weeks. But . . .” Our eyes meet and the seconds crawl by as he, maybe, studies me. “It’s there. Something is there, but at the same time, something is missing. I’m not sure what to make of it, but it’s a pure part of your personality.” Nathan brushes my bangs from my eye; his thumb grazes my brow then cheek when he tucks my hair behind my ear.

  I stare back at him, knowing the sadness he talks about is there today.

  His hand rests on the side of my neck, and I grasp his wrist. He says, “Tell me your secrets, Tracey Warren.”

  I quirk a smile and playfully tug his hand away, but I want to react differently; to kiss his palm before leaning forward and kissing his mouth. I inhale, turning away from him, loving the way his cologne tickles my nose and washes the inside of my chest with warm bubbles.

  Starting the car, I say, “I’m still standing. I’m trying not to allow things I’ve gone through to define who I am or control me. And there’s a lot that wants to control me, that wants to take me over, that lives to murder me too. I won’t let it make me into the darkness it desires. You’re different from the rest. You don’t seem to care much about what I can do for you, but you just accept my existence. Rather that be near you or away. That’s why I fill my free time with yours without a second thought.”

  “Then, are you saying that I fill a hole? Because I’d accept that.”

  Pinching my lips to the side, I bite back my laugh. “Oh my gosh, Nate. You do,” I say, chuckling. “There, you happy? I admitted it.”

  Pulling his baseball cap to just above his brows, he says, “Yes. I am happy now. Start driving, aunty! We’ve got a party to get to.”

  And a party it is. A normal human party, it would seem. I see through a lot of these people though. But, as easy as it is to see through most of them, I can’t see the Burdened in Nathan. He’s just a guy, even with every layer slapped over my eyes. I chat with his friends and stay clear of the alcohol, but indulge in the fruit punch mixture they have on the opposite end of the kitchen from the liquor. Someone said it was separated like this for the ‘non-alcoholics.’

  I don’t dance, just observe, making sure to keep an eye out for my surroundings, making sure no one will try to attack me.

  There’s a boy standing in the corner—been there all night—with his shoulder holding his weight against the wall. Every time I glance in that direction, he grabs my gaze. I make out his sharp gray eyes in the dimly lit, crowded room. He knows me. I can tell by the watchful expression in his stare. When I move, his gaze moves with me, and he’s not at all discrete about it.

  I feel about the room, trying to catch his presence over the others. It’s too hard to place, and I move in closer. As I’m blinking a couple of layers over my eyes, I cross the room to near him.

  “I was wondering when you were going to come over here,” he whispers. I’m feet away, and he knows I hear him over the crowd, over the music, over the shuffle of pants and the swish of dresses. “Are you going to introduce yourself, or watch me from a distance?” he asks.

  “Like you’ve been doing,” I offer. “What is it?”

  “You shouldn’t be here . . . with him.” He gestures with a nod. “You know that, don’t you?”

  I close in on him. His frame towers over mine. His nose is pencil straight, nostrils flared. He smiles at me. “And who are you?”

  “A very important play in your game. I’m certain he doesn’t remember you as his mate, and for some reason, you aren’t in a rush to tell him. Why?”

  I step back, fixing the stranger with a contemplative glare as I gather my words. “You have the wrong girl.”

  “Do I?” he asks. A shimmer of light passes over his eyes. “Love and Death . . . ? It’s only because of Laine why your eyes remain in your skull. We’ve wanted to gouge them out since the day that feather burned into your cheek.” He reaches for my face, and I smack his hand away. “Be careful,” he warns,
stuffing his hands in his pockets.

  I turn away, and he catches me by the crux of my arm. “Let me go,” I order through my teeth. “You don’t know me.”

  “Maybe you’re too selfish to tell him the truth,” he marvels. Smirking, he quips, “I’ll tell him for you.” Moving away from the wall, he strikes across the room, faster than I can blink. Faster than anyone in here saw. Intruding on Nathan’s conversation with his group of friends, he greets him with a handshake and a smile.

  I’m at Nathan’s back before they can complete their greeting. “Hey. Where’ve you been?” Nathan asks me. He throws his arm across my shoulders and drops a kiss at the top of my head.

  A devilish grin slithers across the stranger’s face as he excitedly remarks, “She’s been talking to me.” There’s something off about him and whatever it is, it’s to ruin me. His electric white eyes and silver hair encourage me to pull a card that will turn this in my favor. Nemanite. The disgust Sephlems have for them. Assuming Nathan’s friends are also Sephlems, I calculate my next move expertly to use that dislike to my advantage.

  “You two know each other?” Nathan asks, his light-hearted voice growing dark. A dark tone that I am familiar with.

  “No. I’ve never seen him before. I was interested in knowing how he got his hair so silver and why his eyes looked so electric. It was peculiar to me.”

  The group of five lifts their gaze from me to the boy. His smile morphs into the hint of a scowl, warning them against their attack. “Well played,” he mutters, as if he knows my strategy. “If you ever have a minute alone, Nate. Talk to me. I think you’ll benefit from some information I know.”

  “Doubt it,” Nathan states with an edge of threat coating his words. If there’s one thing I can always rely on, it’s the hate Burdeneds have for Nemanites. “You okay?” He rubs my shoulder.