Nathan moves to my other side, grabbing my normal hand. I touch my ear, remembering it, too, had these dark vines. “Is it on my ear?” I blurt. “Do you think my dad saw it?”
“No, he would’ve said something. With him being on your left, he couldn’t see that side. And yes, your ear has the vines too.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I hope when I reopen them they’ll be gone. I peek through my lashes and to my derision, the black palm and vines are still here. “What is it?” I groan.
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Why did it happen?” I follow.
“I’m not sure yet,” he repeats.
“How do we get it off?”
“Baby, I’m not sure,” he says, keeping his irritation contained.
“Well, what are you sure of?”
“Tracey.” His grip tightens on my hand. “Calm down. We’ll figure this out. Can you tell me what happened in your dream?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, running through my nightmare. It’s when I get to seeing his father in the mirror that I recall. “Oh my gosh! Are my eyes black?” I spread them wide so he can see.
“No, they’re the same beautiful, light-colored brown they’ve always been.” His calm through this is both ratifying and annoying. “Continue with the dream.” He rubs his thumb over the back of my hand, calming me down.
I point to the mirror on the wall. “He yelled my name, threatening us.” I look back at my black hand. “It was the worst. Not because of what happened in the dream, but because I was there. Everything was happening in real life.” This time, the hallucinations really are happening again. I shiver and wish really hard that hoping works because I really hope the thing I hate most about me isn’t resurfacing. No way am I seeing Dr. Phisher tomorrow.
Nathan lifts my hand before his eyes. He brings it to his lips and lets out a slow breath through his kiss. The icicle-like-air makes me shiver and turns my breath into condensation.
I count the seconds until he removes it, and we stare as the black fades away. The vines don’t fade completely, but they grow faint. I run to the mirror. My ear isn’t as dark either, but I still notice it.
“You notice it because you’re aware it’s there. No one else will be able to.”
“What is it?”
“You’re gaining abilities is my best guess. And one of them may be to burn things with your touch. Or maybe you can eject fire or heat. It’s not clear yet, but we should ask my mom the next time you come over. I didn’t want her to know we’re bound, but we can’t ignore this.” He stands behind me, talking to my reflection.
He kisses my vined ear and rubs my shoulders. “Is this something you can do?” I ask.
“No, I don’t possess fire. But I can turn someone into ash. Maybe your ability branched from that.”
I calm down a little now that the markings aren’t as visible. I don’t care what the ability is; I just don’t want it to show. “When can I expect for it to disappear entirely?”
“Once you learn how to control it, you’ll be fine.” A thought knits his brows. “I’ve been hearing myself say that too often. It’s time we work on controlling things.” His right brow pops up and falls as he smiles. “Look, babe. We look nice together. Lock this one in.”
His eyes are translucent from the ceiling light reflecting in the mirror. “Locked,” I say, as I take us in. The bond, it’s not just a feeling. I can see it on us. An obscure way we blink simultaneously, or how both left sides of our mouths twitch as we observe each other. His six-foot-five height compared to my five-foot-five makes him tower over me, but somehow, I’m a fitting size before him. My brown eyes match his at the moment, and I love the way we blend into each other as one while being two separate people. I just don’t like he can read my mind.
I sit on the couch and rub my hands over my arms. “How do you do that?” I point to my mouth. “With the icy air thing?”
“It’s a way of healing. For this, I willed the ability to conceal.”
“Why’d you make me wait so long to show me?”
“I was waiting for your parents to fall asleep. Your speed has picked up, by the way. I don’t know if you noticed.”
“I did. I thought I just needed you that bad.”
“Maybe.” Sliding a finger along my jawline, he turns me to face him. “Can I kiss you?”
Talk about an outstanding change of subject. “You don’t have to ask.” I lean toward him, and he kisses the worry away that pinched the middle of his brows. His hand glides up my neck and pushes through my hair. My body shudders and a purity of passion floods through me. It’s shared from my lips to Nathan’s, and he pulls away, narrowing his eyes. “Not cool, Tracey.”
I chuckle. “That was an accident.” He’s just so addicting, and I can’t get enough even when he’s giving me everything.
A colorful set of eyes gaze upon me as Nathan brushes my hair behind my ear. “You scared me.”
“Yeah, you’re early. What happened today?”
Slouching down on the couch, he turns his attention to the TV.
“Nathan?”
Peeking at me from the corner of his eyes, he mutters, “You don’t want to know.”
“Out with it.”
“What did I tell you would happen?” I grab his chin and force him to face me. He rolls his eyes. “Tracey, everything happened just like I told you it would, except for the extended conversation with my father. I cut it short because he pissed me off,” he says with an edge of frustration.
“Hey, I’m not asking because I want to remind you of it. I’m asking because I want you to talk and let me know what’s going on with you and what happened to you. I would prefer you to give me all the details, but I know you won’t. And I will not stop asking, so get used to it. I care.” I peck the side of his mouth and turn his head back to the TV.
He turns back with a hitched brow and pursed lips. I laugh, laying my head against his shoulder. “I love what you do to me, Tracey.”
“Yeah?”
Laying his head back on the couch, he keeps my eye contact, saying, “I don’t know the right words to explain the full of it. But my night sky, you shower it with shooting stars. Happiness. It’s new to me,” he adds with a shy smile.
I blush, words stuck in my throat. What on earth can I say to amount to that? Coming up with nothing, I stare at him as he watches the movie. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
He nods.
I look over my hand. “So, how am I going to control this stuff?”
“We’ll work on that outside the house, just in case.”
“Oh, I almost forgot to mention. We’re hanging out with Glen and Scott on Saturday.”
“How’d that happen?”
“Long story.”
“Um-hum.” He scoots forward, positioning himself more comfortably.
He lets out a slow breath and closes his eyes. “Why don’t you leave so we can go to sleep.”
“You’re tired?”
“Not really.” That dream freaked me out.
“You comfortable sitting here?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Well, I’ll sit here with you until you’re ready to lie down.” His eyes stay closed through our exchange, evidence of his exhaustion.
“But you―”
“Tracey, shh.” His arm wraps around me, and the other’s thrown behind his head.
A silent chuckle breaks from me as I grin, turning back to the movie. As he sleeps, I run my fingers over the shorter cut hair on the side of his head. The contact and sound of his calm breaths are soothing to my sporadic panics that arise every time I glance at my hand.
Two movies come on and go off. Dad will have his alarm set to check in on us in fifteen minutes.
I sit up to check on Nathan and am startled when I meet his eyes peering at me through the slits of his lids. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“It’s almost eleven,” I say, rising from the couch.
His voice drags as he s
tretches. “Okay.” The lowness of his brows and eyelids scream he’s beat. I’m waiting for a yawn.
“You had a busy day? Did I take you from something?”
“No, never. Whatever you have going on is more important than anything I was doing. I was about done anyway. I left the cleanup to Scott.” He looks toward the stairs. “I have to go. Show me out?”
Dad must be around. “Sure.”
Nathan pulls me into a hug when we make it to the front door. “Tell your dad I’m sorry, again, for barging in. That’s not like me.”
“I will.” I look to him for a kiss. He discreetly shakes his head and kisses my forehead.
I pull the door open behind him.
He backs out of it, saying, “I’ll see you later, Tracey.”
I cringe, hating that the sight of him walking away sends stabbing pains in the pit of my stomach. “Bye.” I have to remind myself he’s coming right back when he gets in his truck and drives off. I close the door. “I know you’re there, Dad.”
He descends the remaining stairs. “It’s not eleven yet.”
“Just about.”
He puts his hands in the pockets of his robe and raises his slender shoulders high near his ears. “I just knew you two would be late.”
“Nope. Not late.” I flash him a smile, adding. “We’re responsible.”
“You two seem nice together.”
“How do you mean?”
“You wear your feelings for each other on your sleeves.” Tipping his chin, he adds, “I’m not sure how I feel about that yet.”
“Well, what do you think about all this?” I ask, throwing my arms out at my sides and then letting them fall.
“You’re growing up, but you’re still young. I don’t want you diving into this new relationship with your guard down, and you get hurt.”
“Humph, I understand.” I hug his middle. “But I can’t help how I feel. Although, I can say we’ll take it a minute at a time.” Total lie!
“That’s all I can ask. You’re mature enough to make wise decisions, and I expect you to be responsible and cautious. You’ll be on your own, off at school pretty soon, and I need you to keep your head on straight. Be responsible, and I do not want you to have any children until you are thirty.”
“Dad!” He did not just say that. “I’m not planning on having any kids right now anyway. But thirty?”
He shrugs and returns my hug. “Nathan seems like a nice boy. I’ll still need to have a talk with him, but he seems put together well.”
“He is. I’m heading to bed.” I head up the stairs, calling, “See you in the morning.”
“Night, Ladybug.”
I push my door closed and spot Nathan sitting on my chaise, looking at his phone. He spreads out one arm, welcoming me to lie against him.
I wait until the door closes to my parent’s room, and then ask, “What’s going on?”
He lets out a harsh breath, never looking away from his phone. “Taylor tried to kill my father for trying to kill Justin. Now everybody’s texting and calling me. I told them I was with you, but they act like it was a change of subject instead of a dismissal.” His phone vibrates. “I’m trying to find Taylor, but she’s not answering, and Justin won’t answer if Taylor tells him not to.”
“Do you need to go?”
“Probably, but I’m not going to.”
“We can go check on it together.”
His gaze flicks up at me. “Not happening.”
“Why not? I’m tired of you doing things without me. And I want to make sure Taylor’s okay too. We’ll leave and come back before morning.”
“Or, we’ll sit here and wait until morning and then I’ll see what happened.”
“Nathan?” I whine.
“Tracey?” he mocks.
“Nathan, this overprotective thing is putting a damper on our relationship.”
He scrunches his nose. “A damper, huh? What does that mean?”
“You cannot keep me locked away. It’s better to be by your side than on my own.”
He puts his phone down and thrusts his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know,” he drawls.
“You’ll teach me, I’ll learn, and we’ll conquer it all.”
Deep chocolate eyes peer through his thick lashes. “Where do you get this stuff?” he mutters with a slight shake to his head.
“I don’t know, but. . .” I adjust to straddle him. “I do know you owe me a kiss goodnight.”
Thick arms wound around my waist as he asks, “Is that right?”
I hitch a brow. “As a matter of fact.”
His big hand grabs my jaw and pulls my head near his face. “Humph,” he sounds, pressing his lips together. “You might be onto something.” I pucker up, kissing unresponsive lips. “You happy now?” he moans in a guttural tone.
I shake my head, fighting my smile.
He kisses me, and the world evaporates. I grab the back of the chaise as his fingers slide over my neck and push through my hair. I love this. The smooth pads of his fingers sliding over my scalp warms my body and sends tremors through my bones. My lips are abandoned as he seeks my neck with the tip of his tongue tracing my jawline. His lips seize the spot beneath my ear that tears me open.
There’s never enough of Nathan. I want more of his kiss, more hands touching over my body, more of his air brushing over my face, more of his body against mine. I want more of his words, more of his presence, more of his time, even more of his silence. It’s absurd, but it’s my un-catered-to craving.
“I’m stopping you right there, Tracey.” Nathan quickly draws back, scolding me with hypnotizing, ocean-blue eyes. “Your dad is here. Let’s get some sleep before this thing gets out of hand.”
I agree with a nod. Better to stop than to get to second base.
“More like hit a home run,” Nathan chimes in on my thoughts.
I hold my breath and clear my mind to ease the overbearing yearning for him. He avoids touching me and on my second countdown from ten, I can lie next to him without losing control.
Reclined on the chaise, I lay my head on his shoulder, but I’m unable to sleep. That crazy dream has me bugging out. I turn into Nathan’s chest. A sigh of relief expels past my lips after inhaling Nathan’s relaxing aroma. He’s knocked out, and I don’t want to bother him.
“What’s wrong, Tracey?”
“Oh. I thought you were asleep.”
“How can I sleep with your brain going a thousand miles a minute?”
“I thought you stopped peeking in my head.”
“I can’t stop. It just comes to me. I only peek when I’m looking for something. But that’s beside the point. That dream?”
I shift uncomfortable. “Yeah.”
“Want me to calm you?”
“Um . . . yes,” I drawl, unsure. “How does that work?” I sit up and meet closed eyes. Here I am keeping him awake. “Sorry, Nathan, just hold me. I’ll forget about it and fall asleep.”
“I’ll help a little.” He pats his chest, and I lay back against him. “Close your eyes.”
I do, and within the darkness of my lids, images of moments he and I recently shared at the park, the lake, and trail behind his house emerge. They dance around the empty spaces of my mind, keeping me distracted. It helps, and I rest peacefully.
unforeseen
The deep, slow breaths brushing against the top of my head are a clear sign that Nathan’s fast asleep. His chest serves as my pillow as I turn over on my back and lift my right hand into view. This morning, the vines aren’t as visible as they were last night. It’s such a relief. I was worried I would have to walk around in gloves and long sleeves for the rest of my life.
What’s it supposed to do? I flip my hand over and back. Nathan had mentioned something about fire or heat. I think about those two things, but nothing happens. I close my eyes and remember when I was at the beach and my hands became feverish as I watched Nathan go back and forth with those eels, as he had called them. I wa
s so angry. I concentrate on the things that make me upset; my stupid disability, stubbing my toe, the suicide rate among teenagers, parents who want to kill their children!
Nothing happens…
These soliciting thoughts continue. From Nathan’s fight the other night and me wanting to help, to our world we live in and me wishing I could change it, and for my mental inconvenience, I wish I could control it!
Whoa!
I hold my hand away from me, startled by the sudden change as it burns black.
Acknowledging it, it fades. “Wait, wait,” I whisper. Darn!
What was it I’d said, or did, or rather felt? No, nothing I had felt because I got angry and nothing changed. Maybe it’s not what I felt, but what I want to feel, or want to do.
My desire!
I bring my hand before me, and I will it to come back. It burns again. The darkness starts in the center of my palm and spreads out to my fingertips. The burn isn’t as bad as it was yesterday, and for that, I’m relieved.
Satisfied it worked, I study it, rubbing my normal hand over its blackened surface. While I expect it to be rough, like a seared steak, or rubbery, like thick latex, I find relief in its smoothness. Unlike skin, though, it’s as if leather’s platted to my palm when I brush my fingers over it, but when I touch with it, everything’s normal.
I observe it, whispering, “What are you here for? What am I supposed to do with you?”
Thin vines sprout up my arm. They sting a little, and I try to stay calm to not wake Nathan.
My hand pulses, and my arm jerks out like a nerve moving on its own. My fingers spit fire across the room, hitting my curtains and setting them on fire.
“Oh crap!” I jump from the bed.
My curtains are blazing.
Nathan sits up, eyes bulging. “Tracey, what are you doing? What did you do?” he hisses.
I panic, making my way toward my room door. “I need water.”
He stretches out his arm, opening his hand, fingers spread. The fire leaves my now burned curtains and snakes through the air into his hand. Having consumed all the fire and smoke, he closes his fingers over his palm.
Plight: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 1) Page 27
