Plight: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 1)

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Plight: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 1) Page 8

by Felisha Antonette


  “With the way you and Scott made it seem, I’d say it’s a little more than risking.”

  He holds me tighter. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” Loud talking in the distance distracts me from finishing. People pour into Andrew’s backyard, and I can’t make out their faces.

  While this moment was what I’d been waiting for, we should head back. I look up at Nathan as he’s asking, “You’ll wait up for me?”

  “I will,” I say. “Don’t stand me up.”

  He grabs my chin and tilts my head back. I expect a kiss, but I get, “I won’t.” His face is vacant, but there’s a faint light in his low set eyes that speaks to me. I just don’t understand what they’re saying. “I’ll see you later.”

  revealed

  I search the crowd flooding into Andrew’s backyard, not finding any of my friends. In the living room, now lit, and reeking of smelly armpits, I spot Andrew cleaning up trash left on a table. “Hey. You need help?”

  “Nah, I got this. Rachel, Angela, and Aubrey got dropped off by Matt. He drove Rachel’s car and will stay at her house. Rachel threw a drunken fit and barfed all over the front porch.” He shivers and gags. “It was nasty, and guess who has to clean it up? Oh, you should go check on Glen. She’s upstairs in my room. She’s been up there for a while, and to my knowledge, she went up there alone.”

  I bolt for the stairs, asking, “What room is yours?”

  “Third door on the left.”

  What could’ve happened to Glen? Was I gone for too long? I shouldn’t have left her knowing she took that drink. “Glen?” I call, pushing open the door and stepping in. I’m swallowed by darkness. Someone’s breathing, but no one responds to my call. I search the wall beside the door for a light-switch. Finding one, I flick it, but nothing happens. With the light from my phone, I shine it around the room, but not before taking a glance at the time. 1:42 a.m. It’s so late. Mom expects us home now! I never stay out past one.

  “Glen?”

  I cross Andrew’s room. The silverish beam from my phone slices through the darkness, casting on a guy’s shirtless chest. “Oh no . . .” Please don’t let me see something that will turn my stomach. Glen’s sleeping on the chest, arm wrapped around his torso. I drag the light up to the body’s face and . . . “What?” I whisper, shocked. Scott!

  Mr. Don’t, in the flesh, doing.

  They rest, tangled in each other, and I don’t disturb them. When they wake up and have to leave, Scott will take care of her and make sure she’s safe. That’s just the guy Scott is, even if he wasn’t into Glen. Which he so totally is!

  I swallow my chuckles, faltered by a small snowflake-like shape etched on Glen’s cheekbone beneath her right eye. Drawing back my extended index finger, I go against touching it, afraid of waking her, but I make a mental note to bring it up later.

  She and Scott are so cute. I grab the edge of a quilt sitting at the foot of the bed and pull it over them. Leaving, I quietly close the door behind me.

  “Hey, Andrew?” I call, tripping down the last two steps. Luckily, the house is empty.

  “I’m in the kitchen.”

  “You sure you don’t need any help?” I ask, seeing him toss bottles into a trash bag he’s lugging.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I made the guys from the lacrosse team give me their word they’d come over tomorrow to help. I may have most of it done tonight though. This smell can’t last until tomorrow.”

  I grab the trash, throwing it in his bag. “Glen and Scott fell asleep in your bed.”

  His eyes bug out. “Scott Fallon?”

  “Yeah. I was shocked too.” I attack the cluttered island, stacking cups and paper plates in preparation to be tossed. “They were in a deep sleep too, and I kind of didn’t want to wake them.”

  “It’s okay, let them sleep.” He comes over with the bag and throws away the things I’ve stacked. “I’ll just sleep in our spare room. Did they at least have their clothes on?”

  I laugh. “Yep, and on top of the covers.” I put things where I believe they belong in his kitchen and wipe down the counters with cleansing wipes. “I saw a throw lying across the foot of your bed and threw it over them. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Yeah. It’s fine. They’ll be okay ‘til I kick them out in the morning. I hope he came in a separate car because the guys he came with left.” Distracted from his cleaning, he faces me. “Speaking of the guys he came with, what happened? You know, with you and your not-friend?”

  “I risked the risk.” I think . . .

  His brows crease and his eyes narrow. “And that means?”

  “Honestly.” I stop sweeping and put my weight on the broom. “I’m not sure.” Andrew holds the dustpan as I rake the last of the dust and trash into it. “But, I don’t care.”

  He smiles at my stupidity. “Okay . . . I mean, you don’t know until you know, right?”

  “Right,” I agree. “What room is next?”

  I kiss Mom’s cheek and set her toppled over laptop on the nightstand. “Always working,” I whisper, pulling the weighted blanket up to her neck. Her soft snores make me jealous. I close the door as I leave her room to muffle the noise I make in the hall bathroom.

  A hot shower relaxes my tensing muscles but makes me sluggish. I drag my arms through the sleeves of my T-shirt and lug my legs into fitted joggers.

  Mom will flip when she sees I’ve left the living room a mess, but after cleaning Andrew’s oversized house, I can’t lift another finger. Before I left Andrew’s, we kicked everyone out of his backyard, and I checked on Glen once more. His house smelled of sweaty armpits and dirty laundry hampers. Neither of us could ignore it, so we cleaned every room before calling it a night.

  I am pooped.

  I flop down on my bed and throw a pillow over my head. Sleep is a breath away when an echo claims the empty spaces of my mind. Wait up for me. “Nathan,” I whisper.

  Seconds away from dozing off, I jerk upward to wake myself up. Risk your life explodes into my thoughts.

  Why am I willing to risk it? What is it that I’m willing to risk? Why does Nathan have this addictive effect on me, and how is it so easy to trust someone I just met?

  A rock taps my window, and then another. I cross my room to the window that looks out to the backyard. I draw aside the sheer curtains. Nathan waves me down.

  After trading my extra-large sleeping shirt for a tank, I race down the stairs, rush through the kitchen, and slide across the tile floor. Before ripping open the back door, I sober my excitement and ease the door open. “Wassup,” I say coolly, brushing my hair back. I hope I look cool and am not revealing the eagerness thrashing through me. Damn, he looks good. Dressed in a black flannel, jeans, and black boots. The moonlight glazes his skin with such elegance, it’s almost like he’s glowing.

  Nathan chuckles. “Aren’t you tired?”

  “I am,” I answer.

  “Your mom home?”

  Crossing my arms, I nod. “Why?”

  “Can we go inside?”

  Crossed, I narrow my eyes, skeptical of his suggestion.

  “I don’t intend to try anything with you. Swear. There’s a lot I need to tell you, and I don’t want you standing outside in the cold while we talk.”

  Convinced, I lace my fingers through his and pull him toward my room. I give him a warning glare to stay quiet before we enter. He gives me a single nod and we head in, sure to not make a sound.

  It’s possible I’m putting too much trust in Nathan, but I believe he won’t abuse that trust or try to take advantage of me in some narcissistic way. There’s been more avoidance than I’ve encountered with anyone who’s shown interest in me, and for him to dive in without the hesitation he’d shown at first, I’m ready to listen to anything he wants to reveal.

  We make it to my room, and I close and lock the door. Nathan crosses the floor to the window and gives the room an once-over. “Weren’t you having a sleepover with Glen?”

  I rub my hands over my arms, ca
lming the shiver from the chilly night but not from my nervousness. “She was.” I swing my arms behind my back and clasp my hands. “But,” I carry, “she’s sleeping over with Scott instead.”

  The corners of Nathan’s mouth turn downward and then relax. His glance sweeps over the room again, landing on the chaise I squeezed in a corner next to the window. “You mind if I sit here?” he asks, pointing, not revealing a care for the news that I found downright shocking.

  I shrug a shoulder, eyeing him through my lashes. He waves me over. Butterflies rip through my stomach as I pull the comforter from my bed and join him.

  He leans against the wall as I sit, facing him with my legs crossed. We sit for a while, neither of us saying anything. The silence is louder than the clock on the wall in the hall. I hunch over, resting my elbow on my leg, a little upset he’s not jumped right into whatever we need to discuss. My mind races between why's and what’s, and maybe a couple of who’s.

  “Thank you.” He startles me.

  Stretching my arms over my head, I ask, “For what?”

  “For choosing me.”

  I prop my elbows on my now bent knees, confusion causing me to knit my brows. “What do you mean?”

  He throws his foot out and slouches. Time slides by as he taps his thumb on his bent leg. “So . . .I’m not normal.”

  I chuckle, not taking him seriously. “Not normal?”

  “You should take me as being serious,” he says, as if he heard my thoughts. “Because I did.”

  My eyes grow wide and my limbs fall limp. “What are you saying?”

  “Saying a lot, without saying anything at all.”

  “Oh my gosh!” I jump to my feet, stumbling away from the chaise. I remember thinking that the other night! “What the hell!” I whisper through my teeth. “How are you doing this?”

  “I’m not normal,” he says, shrugging.

  He’s going to have to give me a lot more than I’m not normal! “I need explanations, bro,” I say, balling my fists, foot tapping as I think of my exit strategy. He’s at least six feet from me and the door is four. I can make a run for it if needed.

  Nathan leans over onto his knees, hands clasped. They part as he asks, “What more are you looking for?”

  I throw my arms up and blurt, “Everything!” but clamp my hand over my mouth, realizing how loud I am. Quieter, I say, “I’m feeling duped! Why can you hear my thoughts and how long have you been able to, and why didn’t you tell me this back at Andrew’s house?”

  “Okay.” Nathan sits back, his expression a mixture of anxiety and contemplation. “How about you ask me your questions, but one at a time, and I’ll answer them and try to give a little extra information along the way?”

  “Or, you could tell me everything, and I can get my answers that way.”

  “Okay, Tracey. I’ll be honest with you.” He scrapes his hand over his mouth and clears his throat. “I don’t know where to start or how to explain this.” Shrugging, he adds, “I’ve never had to before, so I don’t know what to say.” His gaze flicks to the right and then back at me. “Can you sit back down? I’m not going to bite you.”

  I purse my lips and give him a side-eye glare. “You better not. I took a kickboxing class last summer and learned how to kick some serious ass. If you try anything, I’ll turn your butt into a pretzel.” I sit and pull the comforter around my shoulders, but leave as much distance as my chaise will allow between us. Maybe distance will lessen his ability to hear my thoughts. “Okay, I’m sitting. So, continue.”

  “You’re a down-to-earth person, and from what I’ve picked up from you already, you’re willing to be open-minded and understand things.”

  “Right. When the person is open and honest with me.” I move my hand in a circular motion, urging him to continue.

  Nathan runs his hand through his hair as he sighs. “I need you to make this a little easier on me. Calm down and be majorly open-minded.”

  “Which is by me asking you the questions first? Giving you a runway?” My shoulders slack as ease washes over me. An ease that comes out of nowhere, but I open my senses to welcome it.

  The muscles in Nathan’s face relax. Appreciatively, he says, “Yes.”

  “Fine.” He takes my hand. I study his, tracing the veins up to his wrist. “How are you able to hear my thoughts?” They’re private, strictly between God and me.

  Nathan breathes, nodding. “We’re connected. You’ve been marked on all of me―my heart, mind, body, and soul―and me on you. And because of my need to know you, and understand you, I can hear more than you may want me to.” And, I can be in your head like this.

  I jump, forcing the comforter from my shoulders. “How did you do that?”

  “It’s a gift of my family. If you choose to stay with me and become a part of my family, you’ll get it too.”

  We’re connected . . . That helps put some of the mystery to bed as to why I was thinking about him all the time, and it’s a relief to know I wasn’t losing my mind. But, this may be a little worse than that. “If you knew all of this, about this marking, why’d you act like you weren’t interested in me? Like, I could tell you were attracted, and I’m sure you could tell I was too, seeing as you’ve heard my thoughts.” The more I remember the things I’ve thought around him, the more my cheeks burn and the butterflies swarm.

  “That’s the part I don’t know how to explain. See . . .” He takes his hand from mine and extends the distance between us. He’s doing that thing again. “I’m moving away from you because, by my touch, I can influence your emotions and thoughts. When I tell you this, I want you to hear your own thoughts and be in control of your own senses. Not be swayed by how I want you to feel,” he responds to my thought, yet again.

  I roll my eyes. “Whatever. Continue with the hard part, and if you can, throw in the risk you were talking about earlier.”

  Nathan leans over on his knees again and clasps his hands behind his head. I shrink back into my comforter, uncomfortably waiting for him to continue. “I’m a Burdened Sephlem.” He takes a long pause. “What makes me Burdened is that I’m tainted by demon’s blood.”

  “Sephlem?” Demon’s blood! I slowly rise from the chaise and ease back over to the dresser.

  Nathan flicks his gaze up at me, shakes his head, and continues, “That’s the name of my kind. Most of us are simple creatures, others are half-breeds—a mixture of man, Sephlem, and a cell of demon to make them whole—and the least common: creature and beast, defiled by the blood of demons. We blend in with humanity to live normal lives, because, well, who wants to live in hiding or live like a monster.” He lifts an inquisitive brow.

  I nod, confirming I’m listening.

  “What makes the sum of us, who are Burdened, a risk is sometimes we can’t control this darkness, monster, that’s within us. The way I’m tainted by demon’s blood, is because the soul of a living beast, rather, demon is part of me.” He softly clears his throat. “More plainly, he lives within me. This scares the hell out of Scott and makes me think twice about pursuing you. As we grew up, we heard stories of how the Burdened would mate and would later murder their partner out of anger, jealousy, hurt, or just allowing the inner beast consume them. There are Sephlems and a few other creatures, who want the Burdened Sephlems, and our mates, dead. We’re haunted down and slaughtered because they believe we’re a danger to ourselves, our mates, and the world,” he sarcastically emphasizes. “And often, consumed by our inner selves, we can be.”

  I blink and breathe it all in. “How are they a danger? Well, you.”

  “See. . .” He waves me over, and I cautiously cross the floor. “I swear I’m not going to hurt you, you don’t have to be precautious.” I sit, and he reaches for my hand but stops midway. His hand falls to his lap as he says, “Place your hand over where my heart should be.” I do. “Now, place your other hand on your chest.” I push my hand across my chest. “The heartbeat, they’re the same?” I nod, frowning. “That’s because my hear
t was replaced by yours. Your heart beats for me and for you, keeping both of us alive. And what happens when you don’t have a heart?”

  “You die,” I answer breathlessly, wrapping my hands around my arms.

  Nathan rubs the nape of his neck, nodding slowly. “In our family, the attacks haven’t happened for a while, but it’s not something we can ignore.” His head bows, and he draws in his lips. He sighs, and there’s a hint of regret as he utters, “For the rest of my life, you hold my heart in your hands.” Meeting my eyes, he adds, “Keep it safe. Okay?”

  I hide my shaking hands by cuffing them together. “That’s the danger of being with you?” That’s intense . . . A rather large pill to swallow and a responsibility that’s, well, deadly.

  “Yes, that’s a piece of the danger in choosing a life with me. Scott and I were taught when we were young to try to control it and knowing the beast is a part of us, how to not let it control us. We learned how to not let it consume us.”

  “Earlier in school, Scott got angry. His eyes changed to a dark-blue and dark-green, and his look scared the crap out of me. I’ve known Scott for years and never seen him like that.”

  Nathan drags his hand over his mouth. “Yeah. I know. He’s never done that and has been in control of it forever. He learned how to control his at an earlier age than me.”

  “Why do your eyes change color?” I haven’t forgotten about the ‘he could kill me’ part, and the imbalance of how that could kill him in return, but I want to give him a break from it. The studious tone of his flat voice makes me need a break from the heaviness of his reveal too.

  “Because of our moods. I’m usually good at controlling mine, but with you, I was trying to focus on controlling too many other things. Something had to slip.” He snorts. “And it was the most noticeable thing on me.”

  “That’s why you didn’t deny it when I said something about it?”

  “Why deny it? You knew what you saw. I was already making you suffer. I didn’t want to add to it.”

 

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