There’s a heavy rasp to the words my beast tells her, “You carry me—” Our head shakes. “You carry us in a way the wind carries the birds. You comfort us in a way green bathes the earth. You, my heart, love us in the way a god loves his people. I alone am neither deserving nor adequate to have such quality carry a heart that is to fill my chest. We”—Our hand rises to our chest.—“should parish once your heart thumbs your life in us again.”
Our hand shoots through the air from my chest to her neck. “If we were required to kill you in order to win this war, would you sacrifice yourself for us, him? The one within this body who’s declared your life greater than his own, so much he chose to flee instead of fight? Would you give up the last of what you have to save him? Because that is what it will take. For you to win, he must fight, and for him to fight, he must gain the fullness of his strengths, even of that that lies in you. So, will you, Love, give your mate what is required of you? Will you fulfill your purpose to your mate and fulfill the prophecy love wrote to death?”
I snatch back control and Tracey jumps from the couch, standing over three feet from me. “What?” she snaps, brows taut.
I shake my head, muttering, “I don’t know. I never heard that before. But no matter what the cost, I’ll pay it before I hurt you. Nothing is worth that. Win or lose. Nothing is worth your demise.”
“But what about your beast?” she asks. A glow forms around her as her hands spark with flames. I nervously retreat, recalling the pain her blasts cause. She’s able to knock me and my Burdened off our feet and waiting for a hole the size of a basketball to close is torturous.
“Honestly, Sparks, he loves you more than me. You’re his refuge. But, that’s not the way he thinks. His ideals are for the worse. He’ll offer you a negative in hopes of a negative response. He couldn’t harm you. I’m sorry I let him get that out of control. But, after a feeding, he’s a little strong,” I defend.
“Well,” she grumps, straightening her shorts as she crosses the floor to a chair sat at the table. “Tell it to get that shit together. You almost got your face set on fire.” Tracey looks over her shoulder and meets my eyes. “Do you believe what it said is true?”
I shrug. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.” I kneel in front of her. “I don’t want you to sacrifice anything for me. And I know you will try because something in you won’t stop loving me. So, promise me, Sparky. I don’t care what it is, you won’t risk your life for mine. That you won’t even put a limb on the line to save me from whatever is out there.”
“How dare you ask me to make you such a promise? If I can save you, I’m saving you, period.”
I snatch her will and force her gaze to lock on mine. “You don’t understand.”
She jerks, trying to fight it. “Let me go.”
“Don’t ever take my place. You will never put your life on the line for mine. Do you understand?”
Her words are strained as she struggles against my hold. “Don’t make me say it, Nathan.”
I feel every atom of her body, including the beat of her heart, and its desire, I change.
She cries against the pain, conforming to my command. Tears staining her cheeks, she mutters, “I promise. I’ll never risk my life to save yours.”
I release her and back away.
Tracey slumps over, hand pressed to her chest. When she looks back at me, her tears are dry and her eyes are red. “I’m sorry I loved you too much.”
They’re like bullets, her words, hitting me in a damning place. “I’m—”
“Shut up, Nathan.” Tracey stands from the chair and she heads around the home and recovers the furniture. “Let’s get back to check on Brayden.”
I shrug once and agree. “Tomorrow, we can come up with a game plan. They won’t get away with killing our family.”
She flicks me off as she slides on her shoes.
I button my jeans and find my shirt. She’s got me silent. Though I know I’ve overstepped my boundaries, she will always put her life over mine, and I can’t let her do that. She’ll never see how much more important she is. I’ve already taken so much from her, and she’s offered everything there is to take. Her life won’t be on that list. She can hate me all she wants.
After making sure everything is as we found it, we make a beeline to the front door. I crumple, gripping onto the door panel as I fail to keep myself afoot.
“What is it?” Tracey asks, keeping my head from hitting the floor.
A groan cuts from me that’s louder than the chirping of the crickets and singing grasshoppers. “Don’t know,” I grunt. A heavy pound; one that’s hot as obsidian and deadening as a boulder drops in my chest. My blood rushes and a deafening pulse takes hold of my body. I throw my hand over my vibrating chest. There’s a beat against it. It hurts like a bitch, and I cringe to keep from shaking.
“You’re, like, convulsing. Tell me you’re okay.”
I find her hand and place it over my chest. “Remember when you told me the first time we met was because I hit you, and that I had hit you because I was texting Scott?”
“Yeah.”
“I lied.” I thump my middle finger twice against my chest. “That’s your heartbeat.” I take a breath when I get used to it. “When I hit you, I was mating with you. It was just like this. Knocked me off my feet, damn near unconscious.”
Upside down to me, I stare up at her. Gentle fire-orange eyes beam down at me. A faint glow forms around her and the scent of lilac fills my nose as I inhale deeply for the fourth time. Gorgeous, light-brown eyes gleam down at me. I reach for her cheek but brush my thumb over her bottom lip.
“You’re okay?” she asks.
“I think I just fell in love with you.” Sitting up, I add, “I mean. I think I just re-mated with you. Was re-mated to you . . .” I knit my brows, and clear my throat. “What I mean is—”
“Hush, Nate. I get it.” She shrugs once. “I love you, too.”
“Always have?”
Pinching her lips to the left side, she nods.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But you understand, right?”
“I . . .” Her gaze drops to the ground. “I do.”
Dancing with A Stranger
Tracey
The air is chilly. A breeze tickling my toes wakes me. Through the blur of my lashes, I find the small window open.
“Nate,” I call, urgently turning over, expecting to find him still sleep beside me. He’s gone. Jumping to my feet, I scan the small room for him or Brayden, finding neither.
Like before, when Nathan and I first mated, maybe after we’d bound, his existence overpowers me. I smell him as though his scent is bleeding from my pores. My blood is rushing just from the thought of him. But a nervous tickle crawls in my stomach as I search but not find him.
I climb up a box and out of the open window onto a sunlit street, seeming midday. Laughter and chatter fill the silence of the afternoon. A hint of gas sweeps across my nose. On the street, at the curb, Nathan and Brayden are hunched under the hood of his truck.
The people milling around the neighborhood aren’t the least bit concerned. They go about their fake lives as if these “normal” people don’t exist. “I thought you said it wasn’t safe to go out in the day? How are you two out here fixing a truck, not being attacked?” I ask, standing beside the truck.
Brayden excitedly grabs my shoulder, smiling ear to ear. “It’s the most amazing thing, Tracey!” he starts. “Nathan.” He chucks his thumb at him. “Was able to wean their senses or something. So, when they see us, they see people who are just like them.”
“Really?” I ask Nathan. “How is that working?”
“Well,” Nathan says, bent over deep in his truck, twisting a wrench. “You know how I can subvert the mind of others, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you remember the mention of the All-Seeing of Death thing?” He leans up and snatches a towel that hangs over the hood. Wiping his hand, he finishes, “It’s tru
e. And far too easy.”
“When did you find out you had this ability?”
He kisses my cheek before answering. “I woke up this morning feeling like I could do anything.” He flexes the muscle of his left arm. “I got up, came outside, and instantly ran into one of the Qualm Folk. Its gasp wasn’t even completed when the thought left my mind, and I could nearly see it float into his, who you see is only what you’re used to seeing,” he says with confidence in a manner that’s very convincing. “I don’t know who it saw, but he smiled as they did, and continued on its way. I stepped in the middle of the street and tested it out, but instead of forming a thought, I made the person they were seeing acceptable. Even called Brayden out to see if it would work with him. It took zero effort, and it came to me without attempting it.”
“You’re controlling their will? Their sight?” I ask, biting back my cringe.
Our eyes lock and he defends, “Not like that. I’m protecting us, so we can get the hell out of here. I’m not going to go on a mind control spree and start changing their minds and forcing them to accept good over evil.”
“Maybe you should,” Brayden cuts in. “I mean, how bad would it be for all people to be good. Like, world peace could be inevitable.”
“There’s free will for a reason. If the most powerful being in the universe wouldn’t take it from his people, why would Nathan?”
“I’m just saying . . .” Brayden hangs his head low and turns back to the truck. “It’d be epic.”
Nathan pats my shoulder but doesn’t add in his two cents to put off exactly how he feels about this new ability. He starts back in his truck and they discuss how to fix what they believe is wrong. By the smug smile that crooked the corner of his mouth, it’d seem he’s comfortable with this new arrangement. That the ability to control any person’s inner desires, their will alone, is too much power.
“Sparky, don’t overthink this,” Nathan says. He looks over his work and nods. “Brayden, jump in. Try to crank the engine.”
Brayden does as he’s told, and with a single crank, the engine roars to life. “Yes,” he cheers and Nathan balls a fist and nods in success.
The hood’s slammed down and Nathan rounds the truck to the driver’s side. “Hop in the back, we’re getting out of here,” he tells Brayden. “You coming?”
“Where?” I ask. “Find someone else we can shack up with until what?”
“Sparky, we can go anywhere we want. We don’t have to hide away in a small hut. No offense, Brayden. Your little hut was useful.”
“None taken.”
“Sparks, you have to get behind this with me. Let’s go back to the family house, check on everything. And then we’ll take it from there.”
I cross my arms. “I thought you said they were in danger if we stayed around them? Things are different now because . . . ?”
Nathan lifts his gaze to the sky as he threads his fingers through his hair. “Because of the obvious, Sparks.”
Crossed, I get in the truck but wonder what effect this has on the prophecy. It’s coming true. The more power we gain, the more likely we are this weapon and maybe can be swayed. If his beast is prompt to side with the negative, why wouldn’t he do so with this too?
“You two are life savers. I mean, I know I kinda helped you out first, but getting me out of that town. . . This is great!” The smile Brayden wears, I can hear it in his words. The night before last, he told me how much he wished he could walk outside without feeling as if his life was on the line. With Nathan, he got that. Maybe unbeknownst to Nathan, Nathan is already showing how he can be used as someone’s weapon. As long as Brayden has Nathan, knowing Nathan will look out for him, he can walk around the entire world and never have to fear for his life again when it comes down to the Qualms. And to back up my assumptions, Brayden adds, “If only my dad were here. This would be the best day of my life.”
***
We drive for miles, heading back to Bennington, Vermont. I’ve wanted to put this place behind me for a long time. The instant I see the welcome sign, a bloat of memories return as if they’ve feared being forgotten. I hear them beg, remember, Tracey. And me too, Tracey. Wait, Tracey, don’t forget about me, remember that time you killed your parents? Or that time you got kidnapped by Laine in your own home? But don’t forget about that time you got chased by your dead best friend in that warehouse that one time. Remember that? Epic, right?
I shake the thoughts from my head, and hide the pain deep in a dark space, way down in the pit of my stomach. Now is not the time for fear or pain. Maybe it’s not even the time for emotions. Love and hate . . .
Now, this moment in my tainted life, is the time for time to pass in a way sand falls through the center of an hourglass.
Sparks?
Yes?
Everything is different. I can hear on a heightened level than you can. I see through eyes like yours. But my eyes don’t cloak. He looks in my direction and asks, Are my eyes black?
No, Nate, I reply with a soft chuckle.
Well, I see tinted and different shit all around me. I feel people, but not their presences, like yours. I feel their auras, their desires, emotions, their cravings. It’s how I’m able to change them. Literally, in the center of my hand, I can feel their lives, their will . . . circling in my hand like a sphere. And, if I were to crush it, they’d perish before our eyes. Would it be real? I don’t know, because I believe I’m also seeing in another time. Sometimes the world is light, but at other times, it dims.
That’s my everyday, Nate.
You hold lives in your hand? he asks with wide eyes, cutting his gaze from the road to meet mine.
Laughing, I say, No, silly.
Has anything changed in you?
Nope, same old me. But, I had this thought a long time ago, way back before I knew you were alive. This Qualm came to see me, it fooled me into thinking he was you. He showed me a vision, one where I stood at your side for you, not with you. As if I was an accessory to your presence or your power. I don’t think the All-Seeing of Death directly involves me, like your beast mentioned. I think I somehow assist in your advancement into this.
You’re saying we aren’t this All-Seeing of Death, I am?
Yes. It’s not The All-Seeing and Death, it’s The All-Seeing of Death. And I’m not death, and it’s you seeing.
Nathan falls quiet and stays quiet until we stop at a gas station just miles from making it to the family house. Brayden is laid across the backseat, asleep. “Hey,” I shake him. “We’re stopping. You want something or need to use the bathroom?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t trouble himself with opening his eyes.
“I’ll run in for food. You’ll pump the gas,” I offer.
“Nope. We’re down to our last ten bucks. I’m putting it all in the tank. Sit back with Brayden, I got it.”
Nathan’s in and out of the store in less than two minutes, and he’s finished pumping the gas before the song on the radio ends. We’re back on the road, driving through familiar parts of town that I had forgotten about over the years. We pull in the driveway of the old family house. Our home that had been blown up, burned to a crisp, knocked down, and was reconstructed.
With black shutters and white sidings, it stands tall. “Why are we here?” I ask. Nathan gets out of the truck. It’s only for a brief second that I see the structure as it once was. As I’m seeing the silhouette of a man exit from the front door, the structure evaporates into nothing but planks of placed wood. The man remains standing in the doorway. I squint to make him out from this distance.
Tarleton?
I move to get out, but Nathan raises a hand for me to stay. I crack the window instead.
Nathan and Tarleton, who I’m hoping is still Chislon, meet halfway. “It seems as if you no longer stand before me as a man or beast, but as the Knight. How do you ride your white horse?” he asks with an edge of repulsion. “What color is your heart?”
Nathan snorts. “I’m just a be
ast impersonating a man. That’s all I want. A life of a fake appearance with my mate and I, where we can live without watching our back or hopes for peace. Peace is all I want.”
“If peace is what you desire, peace is what you should provide yourself, but you know the cost.” Chislon looks in my direction, meeting my eyes. “She means the world to you. However, you’ll soon discover the cost of holding on to her.”
I jump out of the truck and quickly cross the ground to them. “What’s the cost?”
Chislon snatches my wrist and turns my hand palm up. “You are a gift to your mate. An accord if you will for a paramount being that cherishes you too much and too little. Your life holds one reason for his purpose on this earth, as mother Elbany held to her people. To provide. The more you give, the more he takes.”
I wrench my wrist from his grasp. I’ve always known Nathan and I fuel each other. Those are the ins and outs of being bound; we perish without one another and are our best when together. What is the difference here? “So, I’m my mate’s source of energy?”
Chislon’s blank expression turns to one of curiosity. “You find nothing wrong about being a source.”
“I don’t understand,” I correct.
“It’s not your story, Sparks. It’s mine. Exactly like what you predicted.”
I look back and forth at them. “So, what does that mean?”
Nathan shrugs. “I’m not sure. But I need you.”
Chislon laughs once. The leer he gives Nathan is degrading. “You have no idea.” In a blink, he evaporates into a line of mist that sails away with the wind.
“He’s just going to leave without giving us any more detail? To just tell me I’m some kind of fuel source for you and then nothing!” I shout, pointing the direction Chislon blew. “I hate his help!”
“Sparky.” Nathan takes me by my shoulders and a calm washes over me. “Bring it down a bit.” It’s a calm from his touch that I once craved, but now find controlling. And it’s not that I hate that Nathan can ‘control.’ He’s always snuck inside of my mind or body and altered one thing or another, from my feelings to a comforting thought when it was too hard to let go alone. The problem is—
Finite: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 4) Page 35
