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

by Felisha Antonette

  We pile in Scott’s car and Glen cuts on the radio.

  “Scott, drop Tracey off at her house,” Nathan says when Scott drives away from the fair.

  I dart my gaze at Nathan, surprised he’s about to cut me loose.

  Arriving at my house, Scott gets out, letting me out of the backseat. Before I climb out, I eye Nathan.

  “I’ll be back later, Tracey. Bye,” he states, then flicks his gaze away from me.

  “Fine.” I get out car, head for my door, and watch the car pull off.

  deceived

  “Tracey?” Mom calls from upstairs when I close the front door.

  “Yes, Mom. It’s me.” She’s always concerned about who’s coming in the house but refuses to lock the door. No one has ever tried to break in, but it’d be one less thing for her to worry about if she would at least allow us to turn the bottom lock.

  “Did you have a good time?”

  “Yes. I’ll be sitting in the family room.”

  “Okay. If you’re hungry, I ordered a pizza. It’s in the oven staying warm.”

  “Thanks. I’m not hungry.”

  She comes down the stairs, and I try to perk myself up so I don’t have to have the ‘what’s wrong’ talk. “Nathan seems like a nice boy. Where did you two meet?”

  With my face buried in the fridge, I tell her, “We met at my school. He was picking up Scott when we ran into each other.”

  “Oh. It’s not anything too serious?”

  I face her, no longer caring about my expression. “Why do you ask?”

  “Well,” she starts slowly, “your father has been offered a permanent position in Tennessee, and we were discussing moving there. It will keep him from traveling back and forth, and it will allow us to see him more often.” She beams brightly, but it fades as she acknowledges that I don’t return her excitement.

  “No.” I push the refrigerator door closed. “Him traveling back and forth is fine. And we will continue to see him when we see him.” I love Dad, and I do want to see him more, but not at the cost of not seeing Nathan. Moving is out of the question.

  “Tracey, what would hold you here? You’ll be finished with school soon, and speaking of, we need to discuss what schools you have lined up. The letters have been coming in, and I have seen nothing going out. Your principle has emailed, asking, and it’s improper explaining you have yet to make up your mind.”

  “Is this what you wanted to talk to me about with Dad?”

  She leans her hip against the kitchen counter and crosses one arm. “Yes.”

  “Mom, I’m not moving, and yes, I’ll give my list to you by the end of the week. I’ve been putting a lot of thought into it, but with the speech, and friends, and life. Just don’t ask me to move, Mom.”

  “Tracey―”

  “You said it yourself, I’ll have to choose a school to go to after I graduate. What if I go to a school here?” I try not to whine, but I can hear it break into my words.

  Mom’s lips press into a thin line, and her gray eyes soften. A sympathetic expression slowly takes over where she partially smiles and lightens her eyes. “Okay, honey. We will talk about this when your father’s home.” She’s never been the type to argue. “I love you,” she calls, heading back upstairs.

  “Love you too,” I mutter.

  I go to my room and change into a pair of fitted jogging pants and running shoes. “Mom, I’m heading out for a run.”

  “Honey, be careful. Take your cell phone.”

  “Kay.” I trade my iPod for my phone and plug in the headphones. Tucked behind our neighborhood and conveniently behind my house is a forest preserve with a running trail paved through it. There are often a few late night runners around this time every night, and I can’t blame them. It’s so peaceful out here. I just want to get out and clear my head.

  With my iPod strapped around my arm and earbuds plugged into my ears, I run into the preserve, raking through my crowding thoughts: Mom, moving, Nathan, Pepper. I’m mated! Bound! Then there’s Glen and her Scott situation, and Scott and his Glen situation. How is it even possible for him to erase an entire conversation?

  This is all so much for me to take on and just go about my life like everything’s okay!

  I breathe deeply, calming down.

  The warm air cools as I run with the wind. My legs, stretching with each push from the ground is refreshing. I enjoy the sense of being outside, smelling the freshly bloomed trees and flowers surrounding the preserve. I stop by an opening, where wild animals often pass, to stretch and tie my hair into a ponytail. My legs crave for more of a pull, and my arms want to reach. I let them, lifting them toward the sky and rising on my tiptoes. The clouds are rolling in, but where there is none, stars fill the night sky and the half-moon eats the ones that get too close. They twinkle and tease it in a way.

  I chuckle at my thoughts, stretching my sides, preparing to run again. Pulling my earbuds out, I listen to the sound of the night, finding comfort in the song of the crickets, the rustling of the trees dancing with the wind, and the breeze whipping past my ears.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  Startled, I twist around. “Nathan?” I try to make out the face. His voice is lighter, with a hint of a foreign accent. “You sound weird. What’s wrong with your voice?” I stuff my earbuds beneath the collar of my shirt as I’m trying to make him out in the darkness.

  He emerges into the moonlight. It casts a shadow on half of his body. His mouth pulls into an unfamiliar smile that doesn’t fit his face. “Nothing. Why are you out alone?”

  “I needed to go for a run to clear my head.” I cross the pavement to him, but he puts out a halting hand. I retract my steps, taken aback by his aversion. He nods toward his left where the path continues.

  I cautiously trail his steps. He’s acting odd.

  “You know, it’s not safe to be out by yourself.” Over a foot of distance separates us. Each time I attempt to close the space, he widens it. “What if something were to happen to you? If someone was to,” he shrugs once, “attack you?”

  I snort. “I think I’ll be fine. Nothing happens out here.”

  “Not yet,” he mutters under his breath.

  I glance at him, noticing bright gray eyes; a color I’ve never seen on him before. Frowning, I ask, “Are you okay?”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m with you, right?” His tone lacks his convincing enthusiasm, and that doesn’t sound like something Nathan would say. Or, I’ve not yet heard him talk this way. “Come on. Have a seat with me.” I sit on the bench we come upon, suspicious of his plastered smile and stiff shoulders. He passes me, sitting on the other end.

  “What’s up with you? You’re acting weird. First, you don’t want me to touch you, now you don’t want to sit by me?”

  “No. I want to talk to you and not affect your emotional state by my touch.”

  “What could we have to talk about?”

  “Tracey,” he drags. “You’re a danger to me. I am a danger to you. We should end this.”

  A lump builds in my throat, and I croak, “What?”

  He zips to my front, holding my gaze with gray, clockwise swirling eyes. “End this,” he demands in a poisonous tone.

  I stare, unable to respond. Nor can I move.

  He bows his head, and when he lifts it, Nathan is a different person. The stranger smiles. “I know what you’re thinking. But I’m doing this because those goddamn Burdeneds don’t deserve what we Sephlems have. They don’t do right by our privilege of mating. They abuse and destroy it, and in time, destroy themselves.” His slim face fills with hate and his slanted eyes hold my eye contact. Thin, pale lips move slickly as he states, “And for the ones who do, supposedly, overpower the demon, they’re a disgrace, walking around as if they are better than the rest of us, their mates taking on some of their abilities, the imprudent bond enabling them to think they can conquer the world. Ha!” he barks. He fiddles through his pockets, never breaking our gaze. “And
Nathan,” he spits with disgust, “the Newcomb’s worthy mensch. He will not,” he spits with vile emphasis, “get the privilege of enjoying a happy life with his mate.” He nods. “See, I won’t kill you, because that would kill him, and I don’t want the great one to just die. I want him to fall. I want that demon to go back to hell where he came from―alive!”

  Unable to speak, I’m frozen stiff. I can’t move, can’t think, only hearing his words. He pulls a knife from his pocket and brings it before my eyes.

  “Put your arms out,” he instructs. I do against my inner will. He places the tip of the knife to the vein in the crook of my elbow. It pierces the skin and the sharp edge scrapes down my arm and up to the tip of my middle finger.

  I want to scream from the gash. But can’t.

  The wetness from fallen tears makes the breeze of the night chill my cheeks. He notices them and titters, slashing his blade down my other arm. It slices in a straight line, and I’m powerless. My head spins as the edges of my eyesight darkens with the slowing of my once racing heart.

  “Know that it’s not your fault this is happening, friend. This isn’t about you. This is about Nathan. When I release you, he’ll come to save you, and you will be the death of the great one, so I kindly advise when he heals you, saving your life, you leave him. Do you understand?”

  I nod, convinced I should break things off with Nathan, having no desire for him.

  “And for good measure.” He places the knife to my temple and slashes the blade across my face.

  I hit the bench.

  adapt

  “Tracey!”

  My eyes shoot open. A thick haze clouds my vision as I make out another Nathan. I squeeze them shut.

  “Tracey, please wake up.” No! “Tracey, open your eyes.”

  I pry them open. The haze is gone. Warm hands cup my cheeks, and worried, green-brown eyes study me. I shove his hands away from my face, spitting, “Don’t touch me!”

  “What? Baby, what’s wrong? What happened to you?” he questions, concern flooding into his voice the more I avoid his reach.

  I jump from the bench, and he grabs my arm. The contact inundates me with fear and desire. I frown at his hand clutched around my wrist, wanting to make sense of my simultaneous rejection and acceptance of it.

  I rip it from his grasp and a crippling twinge attacks the center of my chest, as if a knife’s jabbing straight through me. My knees hit the ground, and I buckle over, catching myself with my hands. “Ah!” I cry, reaching for my chest. What did I do?

  “Tracey.” Nathan’s at my side, trying to help me from the ground. “Just try to relax and talk to me for a minute, please?”

  I study him, unsure about who he is. My heart tells me he’s okay, but my mind tells me not to trust him. “Why do you keep bothering me?” Muddled, he eyes me, squinting. “What are you doing?” I ask, slapping away the hand he extends.

  His expression softens, and he backs up. “I’m sorry, Tracey.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Can I please talk to you for a second?”

  “No.”

  “Please?” His eyes stress his plea.

  I recognize him. He’s the cause of my confusion. One day, we’re a couple and the next he’s telling me he wants to break things off! And then he tries to, what, kill me? Grant it, I’m fine now, but it’s not enough. I check my arms. I’m Sure, at one point, they’d been cut, but they’re fine now. But I remember that. I remember him doing it. “Why’d you do this?”

  His brows rise as he says, “Can you tell me what I did?”

  “No,” I decline too quickly.

  He steps forward, and I back away. “Can we walk?”

  “Nathan, right?” I question his identity, passing him.

  “Yes,” he answers in a solemn tone.

  “I don’t want to be with you. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. I need you out of my life,” I state stern and meaningful, even though the end of my statements rise in question. I guess, because the only thing I’m sure of, is I’m not sure of anything. Confusion floods me as my heart and mind fight against each other about this Nathan.

  “Tracey, this isn’t you talking.”

  “You don’t know me! Can’t you listen and leave me the hell alone? Don’t come around here.” I take off in a sprint. I make it two yards before he’s in front of me, strapping his hands around my waist and pulling me against him. His lips smash down on mine. My knees weaken, and his bliss-filled kiss sends flutters through my body. He parts my lips with his, and he’s sweeping his tongue across mine. His sweet savor sends my taste buds, body, and heart insane.

  His desperate kiss deepens, and I willingly, yet unwillingly return the embrace, wanting more of whatever he has. There’s something familiar about him.

  It’s so wrong! “No!” I shove him.

  He pulls me, kissing me again. “Remember me, Tracey,” he begs between hungry caresses. Faster than I can follow, he lifts me off my feet and my back’s to a tree. “Please?” Desperate eyes bore into mine.

  He’s an exact replica of the boy who’d harmed me. “You tricked me!” I try to force him away, but he’s too strong, grabbing my arms and pushing them over my head. The tree bark scrapes against my skin and cuts deeper as he pins them there.

  His eyebrows crease as he asks, “How?”

  “You made me trust you, and then you demanded I leave you.” I wiggle, trying to break loose of his hold. “I’m doing as you asked! Now let me go!”

  “Tracey, it wasn’t me. Can you remember who I am, what I am to you?” He grabs my chin, and I turn away. He grabs it again, forcing me to look at him. “I would never hurt you.” His intense eyes soften. “Trust me. I didn’t do this.”

  When he kissed me, he flooded me like an empty cup, flowing all over, surrounding me with memories and emotions I don’t recall, but seems I’ve once experienced. Regardless, something is wrong. I look away from him.

  Grunting, he says, “Let me get you home.”

  I say nothing, hoping if I stay quiet, he’ll let me down and I’ll be able to make a run for it.

  My feet hit the ground, and I shoot forward.

  The cheetah-like deceiver snatches me up before I can get in a second step. I yank away, smacking his hands. “Dammit!”

  “Tracey, stop fighting me,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “I will if you stop touching me and let me be free,” I sneer, balling my fists. “I’ve warned you. Get away from me!”

  He squints. And when he blinks, I take his falter to flee. Slapping low hung branches from my path, I race through the preserve, hoping I’m evading my attacker.

  Hit from behind, I’m tackled and pinned to the forest ground with fallen leaves flying up around me. Over me, the attractive quarterback pants, saying, “Tracey, whatever happened, it wasn’t me. I would never hurt you. Something’s happened to you.”

  Turning over, I jerk, trying to get an arm or a leg free. “We’ve gone over these lies.” Seeing I’m caught, I scream.

  “Tracey. Baby, stop this. Just listen to me.” He raises his hands out at his sides. “I’m not going to hurt you, swear. But please forgive me for what I’m about to do.”

  Moving faster than I can see, he snatches my shirt off, then his.

  Scared, I squirm, unable to break free of his vise-grip. “Please, don’t,” I beg.

  Loosening his hold, his hands gently slide over mine, and he interlocks our fingers. “I’m sorry for being forceful, but I have to get you to remember. You’re safe, promise. I just need you to remember. I promise I won’t hurt you.” His strong legs, pinning mine down, loosen as he slips between them. “Please remember.”

  I see his eyes change to a dense green laced with a deep brown. “Get off me! What kind of monster are you,” I cry.

  “You’ll remember me, Tracey. I’ll fix it.” The warmth of his body covers mine as he sinks down on me. With his solid chest against mine, the thump of his heart and the beat of mine echo. “Feel me, Tracey,�
� he whispers, dipping his head beside mine. “It’s okay. It’ll come back soon.”

  Nathan kisses my earlobe and whispers something in a language I can’t make out. My eyes close, and I acknowledge the similarities in our drumming heartbeats.

  This. . . They mean something.

  From nothing but a heartbeat, my mind, body, and heart agree I’m in the right place, pinned down on the dirty ground by the right person, and accepting of the right love.

  Nathan draws back, staring down at me.

  “What happened?” I ask, looking around us. “We’re covered in dirt, in the preserve, and half-naked. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  He huffs, head falling into the slope of my neck. “Thank you,” he mumbles. Sighing, he says, “Come on, I’ll tell you what I think I know on our way back to your house.”

  Shirtless, Nathan and I creep through the house, hoping we go unheard. We lay on my bed, exchanging looks, neither of us interested in a shower or concerned about the dirt crunched under our bodies staining my sheets.

  “Tracey?”

  “Hum?”

  “Don’t forget me again.”

  There’s a big part of my day missing. Like, I lived a moment, but I wasn’t here to experience it. There’s only forgetting and remembering. I can’t remember forgetting or why. “I don’t know what happened.”

  “When you remember anything, I need you to tell me,” Nathan says, grazing his hand over my cheek and then pushing his fingers through my tangled curls. He watches me as I watch him, neither of us sure of what to say.

  veiled

  “Can you make us something to eat? Let’s take a break from school hunting.”

  “Okay, Tracey. But afterward, we’re looking into what you want to major in. Or you can move with your mom and dad. Why did you wait until the last minute anyway?” Nathan hands me a pen and his notebook turned to a page where he’s written Tracey’s Valedictorian Speech on the top.

  I take it and lean against his desk. “I didn’t wait until the last minute. I’ve been looking. I just wasn’t sure what or where would be a better choice, stay home or go away.” I grumble, pointing to the monitor. “This is my narrowed down list of the schools I’m still unsure about.” The multiple tabs of school names lined up on his computer screen make me nauseous and bored. “Since I won’t see you all day tomorrow, we should spend more time cuddling than sitting at this desk in front of the computer.” The printer creaks, printing out the last page of the final application we’ll be completing today.