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

by Felisha Antonette

  “Peachy,” I squeak, moving aside as the stranger passes, and he still manages bumps me.

  Before he can flee, Nathan snatches him by his shoulder. “Dude, say excuse me.”

  Meeting my eyes, an electric light flashes over his eyes before he blinks. Smirking, his sorry crawls from his lips like a snake would make its way across a floor, slimy but with ease. I ignore him, turning back to finish my punch.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Nathan asks. “These people can be a little weird at these parties.”

  Pinching my nose, I nod. “I’m fine. I’ve been around much worse.”

  “You wanna dance? We can party together the rest of the night, that way no more weirdos bother you.”

  Chuckling, I say, “Sure.”

  We dance and laugh, but only for minutes before he catches me by my arms as I fall. “You’ve been drinking?” he asks, helping me find a seat.

  I shake my head, worsening the effects of my nausea.

  Kneeling in front of me, Nathan orders, “Tell me what you’re feeling.” The aggression of his demand thunders through my ears. I throw my hands over them, and he grabs my wrists. Piercing anger has stolen his eyes when I meet his gaze. Peacefully he asks, “Can you tell me what you’re feeling?”

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I grumble, “I’m dizzy. The room’s—no, I’m spinning, water’s beneath my feet and rushing through my ears.” I look up at a wavy haze. “Am I floating?” I admire, spreading my arms out at my sides.

  “Come on.” He lifts me to my feet. “We need to leave.” I stumble at his side, and he hurries us from the apartment, down a slippery flight of stairs and outside to the intoxicating air.

  My feet don’t touch the ground. I skip across every available cloud, dancing on the wind as it carries me to my next step. I do a cartwheel or two and sing Jingle Bells. “I love this song!” I tell the world and sing it again. Giggling, I find a seat . . . Maybe. My body’s a bubble, a helium-filled, ecstatic bubble.

  There’s a click that reminds me of a song with a bass that bangs so hard my speakers shake. I bring my hand before my mouth and beatbox the beat I remember.

  “Don’t move, Tracey,” echoes around me.

  I search the haze, but everything’s a blur.

  “What did you do?” malevolently comes from a gap of air that floats pass me.

  A laugh shakes my water. “Nothing.”

  Thunder after thunder rocks the waters, shifting me from one side of the sea to the other. I joyfully ride the waves, giggles sending my happiness to the floating fishes and seahorses around me. They smile and bang their heads to my sick beats.

  “I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry. It’ll wear off shortly,” a shark tells me.

  A Dose of Memory

  I thrash upward in search of something to spew the burning barf charging up my throat into.

  “Right here.”

  I’m guided forward.

  My hair is pulled back as I heave, over and over, into splashing water. A towel scrapes over my mouth when I slump against something hard and narrow. “Argh,” I grumble, queasy.

  It’s dark, just a slither of light is creeping in from a covered window, slicing across the faucet of a sink. “I’m freezing,” I say, swallowing hard.

  A figure moves beside me, sliding across the cold tile floor. “Here,” Nathan drawls, pushing his arm around my shoulders. “You’ll probably need to go another round, and then it’ll be better.” He rubs my arms up and down, the friction causing warmth to counter the chill.

  “What?”

  “Somebody slipped you something last night. I kicked his ass then brought you back to my place. You were really fucked up.” He clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, Tracey.”

  I jump to my knees and hunch back over the toilet, throwing up the remainder of my stomach, sure after this one, there’s nothing left on the inside of my body but bones. “This is so disgusting. You don’t need to stay in here,” I say with my words echoing off the walls of the toilet bowl.

  Nathan rubs my back as he pulls my hair back again. “I do actually.” When he helps me sit back, I lay my head on his lap, and he places his hand over my stomach. I flinch when he touches me there. “Sorry. You took a pretty hard fall. It’s probably still bruised.” A cool towel dabs my forehead and then the corners of my mouth.

  I sigh hard, and damn does my stomach hurt. Dammit! The last thing I need is to go home bruised. “Oh my gosh, Nate!”

  “What!” he blurts, jumping to his knees, eager to help.

  My hands are planted to the tile, and I struggle to keep my balance. “Did you say ‘last night?’ As in, I’m now on a different day—hours later?”

  Settling back down beside me, Nathan lays me across his lap. He strokes back my sweat drenched hair. “Yeah, we’ve been in here all night. It’s probably late afternoon.”

  I jump to my feet, reaching for the doorknob. “I have to go, Nate.”

  “Tracey, you can’t drive like this! You need to get some food in you and balance,” he says, catching my arm as I’m tripping out of the bathroom into a well-lit hallway. The tint instantly shields my eyes against the blinding sunlight beaming through his apartment. Nathan grabs my shoulders and twists me around. When our eyes meet, he’s struck silent.

  I shuffle out of his grasp and shut my eyes. “I can explain,” I hurry to say.

  “You’re not . . . human?” he cuts me off, questioning me as though a hint of betrayal lies in his friend.

  It stings, and I’m eager to explain, “I am,” as I try to blink the film from my dry eyes.

  “We’re lying to each other now, Tracey? It’s very clear you’re not.”

  I point to the opened bathroom door, accusing, “Isn’t that what you were doing some seconds ago, lying, trying to convince me I was drugged instead of hypnotized?”

  Taken aback, his head jerks back a little. “Wait a minute. No. You were drugged last night. There was no lie in that. I’ve never lied to you, about anything.”

  I snort, rolling my eyes. “I live with a Nemanite and am well aware of their tricks and schemes. You’re not lying?” I ask with an edge of skepticism, throwing my hand on my hip.

  He scrapes his hand down his beard, taking several steps back. “You live with one of those eels? Under the same roof?” The disgust is so heavy in his voice it nearly beats me with regret for letting Laine in our home. The head-on glare he pins me with makes me want to take back my words. “Wow,” he mutters, befuddled.

  Tracey! Little Nathan yells. Where the hell are you?

  Throwing my hands over my mouth, my eyes grow wide. He couldn’t sound more worried. I’m okay.

  What are you doing? Where’ve you been? We’ve been searching everywhere for you, and all night!

  Just go home, I’ll be there soon.

  You sure you’re safe? I can be where ever you are in an instant, promise.

  I’m sure . . .

  He sighs. Okay. I’ll let everyone know you’re fine.

  Thanks.

  “Wow . . . You’re not human,” Nathan states. He throws his arms up and they fall behind his head. He grasps his neck tight in his grip. “Just wow.”

  I brush my hair back and let my hands rest at the top of my head. “Nate, my boyfriend wasn’t human . . . We mated, and he changed me.”

  “But, you were going to lie to me just now. You should’ve said that first.”

  “Shut up, with that.” I lie further, saying, “I see right through you, Burdened and all. Don’t give me that not human shit.”

  Throwing his hands up, he defends, “I never lied. The conversation never came up and a damn good thing it didn’t. But, had it, with you, I would have had no problem revealing who I really am.”

  He takes on his beast, shifting into a monster standing an even seven feet tall, complexions deep red, and hair slicked back, strands ending in sharp, venomous points. His eyes swirl a deeper gray and the dark blue of his irises churn in a way that’s both clockwise and
counter. They’re nearly hypnotizing, and I have to look away.

  He morphs back to his human form. “I have no issue telling you the truth, Tracey. But you’re either ashamed of yours or you don’t want me to know it.”

  “Maybe . . . Maybe I am ashamed of it. That you’ll judge me because—because of me mating with a Burdened Sephlem. I was turned into this . . .” It takes me a minute to will the real me to the forefront of my being, which I’ve never done. Though, always knowing it’s been here. She’s been here.

  First, the feather burns present on my cheek, and then my vines slowly work themselves to life, followed by my eyes cloaking their deepest tint. My palms burn black and in the next second, they spark with fire, and I’m inflamed and seeing the fiery glow around me. I don’t burn anything, but I’m bright enough that Nathan needs to squint. Just before he can get comfortable with the ‘real’ sight of me, my snake of fire slithers from my hand.

  I expect for it to circle me before resting at my side as it usually would, but it doesn’t. Nearly as big as him, the fiery snake slithers to Nathan’s side and brushes against his hand. Nathan returns the gesture with a pet against his head, and satisfied with that, the snake returns to my palm and slithers away.

  I return to my preferred image. “There,” I say. “The me I’ve become.” Defeated, I reveal, “I don’t want to lie to you, Nate. I just—” I sigh. “It’s so damn complicated.”

  “Honesty, Tracey, is not complicated. It’s difficult at times because we consider too much. But complicated, for who? I never ask for much, from anyone, but please, don’t lie to me. My entire life seems like a great big lie, and you have been the only thing that’s made sense in a long time. Don’t ruin that.” He grabs my shoulders and yanks me to him. Hugging me gently, he says, “You look creepy as hell. But I accept you as you are. We can walk down the street together, looking like two freaks, and I wouldn’t mind not one bit.”

  I force a chuckle, but I don’t nearly mean it. Because. . . Well. . . Even I am one big lie.

  “Is your family okay? You let them know you’re safe?” He speaks before I can. And maybe I’m grateful he cut me off because, though I want to reveal this truth, on the other hand, I don’t.

  It’s funny he knew I was speaking to my family. Even when he can’t read my mind . . . he can read my mind. “Yes.”

  “Then, in that case. You can sit down and eat something before driving. At least I’ll feel better about you going out.” He heads to my left, adding, “And I wasn’t lying about your drink being spiked. It was my fault. I should’ve been keeping a closer eye on you.”

  I push my hand over my sore stomach. “I’m an adult, I don’t need to be kept watch of.”

  Grabbing a croissant from the stove, he wraps it in a paper towel and brings it over to me. “You’ve not had many friends, huh?”

  I lean against the nearest wall, breathing away my nausea. “I’ve had plenty of friends.” Friends I’ve turned my back on, friends I’ve lost, friends I’m lying to . . .

  After handing me the buttery bread, he wraps his arm around my neck and draws me near him. In our hug, he kisses the top of my head, and as if he knew it was coming, I fight—hard—the tears burning my eyes. “It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to bury all your sadness. Just beyond these four walls should you not let it show. In here, though, with me, you can.”

  “I spent an entire year expressing my sadness. No more.”

  “If you insist. It’s also okay for you to return my hug.”

  I step closer, pressing my face against his chest, and the black dyed cotton of his shirt soaks up my tears. I fist the back of it, squeezing so tightly that the fabric bunched up in my clutch hurts my hands. There’s supposed to be a euphoric musk accommodating this hold. A familiar inhale that’s supposed to fill me with a reassuring comfort that everything is going to be fine. That I’ll let go and there will be a kiss I left on his lips years ago waiting on me to retrieve. But contrary to my wants—my needs—there’s just fabric softener; lavender. I want him back so badly and though I can fake it, I want my mate holding me right now. So, I hold him tighter, and I hope harder and wish greater. As low as I can speak, I mumble, “I miss you so much.”

  Dammit if he doesn’t feel the same in my arms, but his shield is intact; he’s hard as a brick wall.

  “Sit down, Tracey.” He scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the couch. As we sit, I lean against his shoulder and let my tears dry. Nathan leaves me coddled in his embrace. In it, there’s no compassion, no affection, but there is something I’ve always missed from him I didn’t realize I was missing until just now. He genuinely cares about mending my heart rather than simply healing it with his touch. His care for me isn’t because I hold his heart in my chest. But, maybe because I actually hold an important place in his life and he may not want to lose me either.

  Leaning away from him, I scrape my hand down his sleeve. “Ew. Sorry I cried on you,” I say jokingly.

  “No problem.” He strips off his shirt and snatches one off the back of the couch to throw on. “You feel better? I mean, your nausea?”

  I grumble. “No. I feel like I can barf up my bones.”

  “Maybe you should chill here until you’re better.”

  “I can’t. My brother is about to lose his shit. I really need to go. I’ll be okay.”

  Leaving for the kitchen, he grabs a can of soda and an apple. “Take this for the trip and call me if you think you can’t make it. I’ll meet you, take you the rest of the way. Your car’s downstairs parked in front of the building.”

  Smiling, I take the items. “Thanks.” Throwing up my arm and letting it fall, I add, “Thanks for all of this. You didn’t have to do it.”

  “I did.” He smirks. “I couldn’t let my best pal stay face planted on the concrete.”

  “Did I really hit the concrete?” He nods and pokes my cheek. I flinch away from the pain. “Dammit. My brother is going to have so many questions.”

  Nathan snatches my keys from his coffee table. “At least you have someone to care about you. You could’ve lost everyone and been totally alone.”

  “Right . . .” I sit back down for a second, waiting for my dizziness to wear off.

  Nathan’s fully furnished living room is much cozier than mine was. There’s a window, but no patio door, it looks out to a beautiful, large lake three stories down. The sun’s burning orange washes the water with such a perfect color the lake appears to be on fire. Birds fly over or land upon it, trying to catch the fish that poke their heads above the surface.

  The smell of baked croissants fills his home, and I have a valid assumption he didn’t forget how to cook. I take a bite of the one he gave me and dammit if it doesn’t taste like heaven.

  Sigh. “I wish the sun was rising. I see an argument in my future.” Meeting Nathan’s eyes, I say, “You’re not alone either. Anything you need. Let me know. I’ll be there. Promise.”

  He smirks and his dimple winks at me. “I don’t know what you could do for me, Tracey. But I like your company. And appreciate you coming out with me every time I ask. You’re a trooper, but I think we outta cool it for a while. At least until I find out what’s up with that guy who talked to you last night.”

  “He’s not your problem. I’m the one who should be staying away from you, really. I’m dangerous and if I’m not careful, I’m the one who could ruin your life. So, as much as I love you. I mean, being around you.” I hurry to correct. “You’re right.”

  Nathan purses his lips and stands. Something causes his left eye to squint. Much like Nathan, never curious enough to ask more questions, he lets it go and his shoulders slump forward. “Okay. Make sure you at least drink that ginger ale.” I follow him to the door. “Drive safe.”

  “Thanks.” We hug, and I leave.

  Maybe forever.

  Easing the door open to our home, I creep in and gently close it behind me.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Little Nathan jum
ps from a middle step and skips the rest in one leap to meet me. “I was pulling my hair out!”

  “How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?” I pass him for the stairs.

  “Okay. Fine. You don’t have to tell me, but you’ve gotta let me know what’s going on with you. You’ve been sneaking around, out all night, you don’t talk to any of us anymore. What’s up?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Little Nathan follows me up the stairs, shouting, “Is this some new way of coping? Rebellion?”

  I bite my tongue, keeping the truth withheld. Twisting around, I say, “Little Nathan, you’re not my boyfriend nor my dad. Back off! You all wanted me to get out of the house and that’s what I’m doing, you wanted me to find some freedom and that’s what I’ve done! Now leave me alone. I’m tired.”

  His soured expression drives a nail into my chest.

  “I’m sorry, bro.” Throwing my arms around his middle, I say, “Thank you for caring about me. But I’m okay.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Tracey?” he asks in a softer tone, coated in concern. “You smell like barf, cigarette smoke, and alcohol.”

  “I’m sure,” I say, pulling away. “It was a very long night. I’m tired, need to shower, and will be going to sleep. Please stop asking me questions, okay?” Looking him in his eyes, I add, “I don’t want to lie to you.” I leave him standing in the hall and close the bedroom door after I enter. Sliding my back down the door, I press my face to my knees once I’ve sat on the floor. I sigh aloud, unfulfilled, broken, fixed, despaired.

  If whoever that Nemenite was recognized who I am and who Nathan is, that means others know he’s alive too. We are just the only ones oblivious to his living.

  My phone beeps. A text from Nathan asking if I’ve made it home. I let him know I had and thank him for looking out for me last night. His response, a complete contradiction of what we’d agreed on earlier. ‘Ok. See you later.’

  Cedar Wood Road