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

by Felisha Antonette

  His lips move across the slope of my neck and then vanish. Time passes before I warm. Minutes later, he pulls back, wiping my blood from his face with a towel. Taylor’s at my side, cleaning me off.

  I breathe, relieved it’s done, and that agony is over.

  Nathan sits back in―what I now call―the bad news chair and pushes his hands through his hair. He hitches his finger in a single come here motion, and I do, sitting on his lap. My tears stream as I hug him. My sight is still poor, so I leave my eyes closed and lay my head on his shoulder.

  “Thank you all. Can we have this room? We’ll come to you in a few.”

  “That’s fine, Nathan. Take as much time as you need,” says Taylor, followed by the door closing.

  Nathan looks me over. He wipes a wet towel over my cheek and my lips and a refreshing sensation follows. “He’ll still try to come after you, Tracey. Just, what we did to you makes that process harder. Roehl can keep tags on people by putting something of him in them―his blood, saliva―and he did that to you. There still may be some in you, considering we can’t drain you and you live.” He inhales deeply. “That’s twice today I almost lost you. Both times caused by family, and Roehl should’ve been killed.” He kisses my healed shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go get something to eat. And I’ll try to get an update on Glen.”

  Nathan takes us to a restaurant that’s just opened their patio for eating outside. We exchange looks over our salads, but neither of us speak.

  I break the ice. “We have to discuss what just happened. Your brother? And how the hell did he figure out my name? What’s behind this don’t talk? I literally saw a change in him when I screamed. It was like. . .” I bite my lip and try to make sense of it, but I don’t have the words to explain what I’m trying to get across. Judging by the look in Nathan’s eyes, he’s got the highest―hardest―guard up that’ll block out every question I’m asking. I hate it when he gets in these kinds of moods. “You have to talk about this. Tell me what’s up,” I demand.

  “Remember that thing.” He points to his eyes. “And how you refuse to tell me what the hell’s up with that shit,” he scoffs.

  “That’s so childish, Nathan. That has nothing to do with you. This Roehl crap clearly affects me in a greater way than you care to let on. So if you won’t tell me about him, you will tell why he’s in me, and how he knows me.”

  Nathan calls the waitress and pays our bill. We leave for the truck, and I’m twenty seconds away from punching him in the face when he starts the ignition and pulls out of the lot.

  “Let’s go see Glen.” We take a thirty-minute drive to the hospital in an unyielding silence. He turns off the truck and yanks the keys from the ignition.

  It takes me a minute to unhook my seatbelt. Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow my anger and prepare to see my friend.

  dedicated

  I walk up to the receptionist’s desk and place my hands atop the counter. “Hi. I’m here to see Glen Richards.”

  “Hello there. Allow me a moment to look her up.” The receptionist smiles, pudgy cheeks shaping her face in a heart. “Visiting hours are coming to a close soon. You’ll have only thirty minutes to spend with her, so keep an eye out for the time. Here is a visitor’s pass for each of you. She’s in room three forty-four. Take the second elevator to floor three,” she says, pointing to our left.

  We board the elevator and hit floor two. Bedpans and medicine hit our nostrils when the elevator doors part. My stomach turns, and I take steady breaths to lessen the queasiness. Into a dual room with an empty bed and the curtains drawn, Nathan and I cross the floor to the other side where Glen lies sleeping.

  Nathan pulls up a chair for me, and I sit beside her. Not a single scar or bruise damages her freckled face. Someone’s brushed out her hair and its golden brown rests against the white pillow elegantly. She’s so beautiful. I want so badly to hug her, but I rub my index finger down the bridge of her nose instead. Her lashes flutter before her lids part. She smiles.

  “Hey, Gege. How are you?”

  “Hey.” It’s raspy. “I’m better. A little hungry.” She swallows hard. “No. I’m a lot hungry.” I spread lip balm over her chapped lips and smooth down her eyebrows.

  “Hi, Glen.” Nathan leans his hip against the side of the chair. “Glad you’re feeling better?”

  “Hi, Nathan,” she greets. “Have you seen Scott?” She tries to sit up, but struggles. “I haven’t seen him at all.”

  “You shouldn’t move. Scott will be by a little later,” Nathan tells her.

  She beams with glee. “Great!” Glen talks Nathan’s ear off about Scott and how much she misses him. There’s not a care for how or why she’s in the hospital, she just wants Scott to know she loves him and that she can’t wait to see him. Its truth is revealed by this heavy glimmer in her eyes. Her yearn. It’s a mixture of joy and pain that draws tears to line the bottom lid of her right eye. It doesn’t fall, just sits there, showing her happiness and sadness; emotions I don’t think she realizes she’s feeling. The bond, the mating, maybe makes us blind to the flaws in our mates, ourselves, maybe even our relationships. But why? Why does fate want us to be with this one person so badly that no matter what happens, good or bad, we’re forced to choose them, knowingly and unknowingly? Can love run that deep?

  Nathan will probably pay a visit to Roehl tonight. Since they are somehow related, Nathan has this need to address things with family before executing a plan of homicide. Whatever termination he chooses, I hope it’s quick. The thought of Roehl makes my skin crawl. What happened, the torment I sense Nathan experiencing, it’s partially my fault. I’m learning to look at these situations from a different perspective because I’m more of a distraction than a balance—as his father didn’t hesitate to point out. His words remain heavy on my mind.

  “Well, Glen, it’s getting late.” Nathan checks his phone and says, “Scott said, he’s picking you up some cheesecake.”

  Glen laughs. “He knows I love cheesecake. Thanks.”

  I take Nathan’s spot and place my forehead to hers. “I’ll see you later.”

  She nods. I kiss her cheek and then leave.

  Relief fills me and even with the negative circling, I can’t help my smile knowing Glen’s okay. She still loves and wants Scott, despite him nearly killing her, though. That’s some kind of love. . .

  Nathan hugs me to his side and a sense of discomfort eases away with our touch.

  When we pass the receptionist, I wave and thank her.

  In a dim spot of the parking lot, I grab Nathan’s arm and pull him to a stop. “Wait,” I utter, calming the sudden rush of butterflies in my stomach. “Now would be a good time,” I mention.

  Nathan visibly sighs, chest rising high then slowly falling as he exhales. “You’re right to think I’m leaving to see him later. I have to see where we stand and why he stopped by to check on my father right after his death that no one should even know about yet. Roehl’s a snake. He has an odd ability we think he got from his mother where he lures his victims. When he mentioned he knows you, he was implying he knows what will draw you in. You’re attracted to me because I’m your mate. Those things, my scent, touch, even my kiss. Everything about me can be copied and implanted on you if he desires to use it against you.”

  I rub my hand over my drying mouth. Ultimately, if this stranger wanted, he can steal me away, and I can involuntarily succumb to him all because of my stupid overwhelming attraction to Nathan.

  Nathan nods. “The truth is shit.” He slips his hand around my back and steps to me. “I wasn’t holding back to be a dick. I was doing it so you wouldn’t feel this. The desolate helplessness living in the pit of your stomach and causing this pinch in the back of your neck. I bit my tongue to keep the worry from the tremble of your lips and the shake in your eyes. You’re strong, I know. You’re confident, and I’d swear by it. But there’re things heavier than you can handle. The weight of this burden is greater than I was ready to cast on you. And to be
honest, I feel guilty. I shouldn’t have had you out there, or maybe I shouldn’t have come to your house that night or carried you to the nurse’s office. Maybe I shouldn’t have taken you, fucked you and bonded. Who knows?” He shrugs. “We shouldn’t be,” he says, taking a few steps away from me.

  Furrowing my brows, I point to my chest, saying, “You’re regretting us? All because of this fight earlier.”

  He throws his head back, dragging his hand down his face. His display is louder than any answer he could’ve spoken.

  “Fine.” I leave him and wait at the truck for the lock to pop. When it does, I climb in and snatch the seat belt to strap in. Nathan gets in the truck and doesn’t even steal a glance. The route he drives heads back to his house. “Just take me home.”

  “You know I can’t do that. Not after what just happened,” he says, groaning.

  “So, now what?” I ask, crossing my arms.

  “You come back to my house. Hang out with Taylor and wait on Glen.”

  “And, I guess I’m just supposed to wait around for you, knowing what you’re feeling.”

  “Dammit, Tracey,” he mutters, “I don’t regret it. I’m just. . .” He breathes. “I don’t know. This shit just messed me up bad. Okay? I don’t want you feeling this way, and I don’t want to fight this battle.”

  “Life with me isn’t one females dream of. And if you’re willing to risk it so am I,” I quote him to the best of my knowledge. I may be off by a few words, but that’s the line he used on me. “I gave you my word. I promised I’ll fight by you no matter what. Now that the going’s getting tough, you’re not ready for the tough to get going? All that fight in you, all that confidence, and now, here it is, time for you to shine and you’re dimming out!”

  He scoffs. “You talk a good game, baby.”

  I roll my eyes, letting the window down. Throwing my forearm on the door, I lean on it, and the wind rushes in my face.

  Scott’s leaving as we’re pulling in Nathan’s driveway. He looks a hundred percent better than I remember. I’m unsure if I can call their healing ability magic or an advanced form of angiogenesis, but it’s miraculous.

  As I lean on the door, the window still down, Nathan’s exited the truck and now stands in front of me. I don’t move but peer into new eyes. Bright orange and brown irises warm my body. I sit up, resting my chin on my arm. They’re more beautiful than any other color I’ve seen on him. He blinks, and they flash as I stare into them, forcing my memory to lock in the color, the expression, and the optimism within their depths.

  Maintaining our eye contact, he leans forward and places a kiss on my arm. “I’m a dick.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  “I’m going to fight this. I don’t have a choice in that matter. I don’t regret you, us. I had a sour feeling this would happen after we became bound, and if we hadn’t, the desperation wouldn’t be potent enough for someone to use it against you. I take back what I said, okay? Thank you for choosing me and wanting to seal us.” A soft smile lifts the corners of his mouth. “I take back my sorry, and in its place, I say we’ll go at this together. Just, forever, if it comes down to it, remember you chose me, remember what I am to you and anything Roehl offers is deception.”

  I draw my lips to the side, giving off my studying of his statement.

  “Forgive me?” he asks. “By the way, I’m probably going to say that a lot. Fair warning.” He winks.

  Biting back my smile, I mutter, “I hate you.”

  “Don’t. No woman has ever been able to resist the wink.”

  “Jerk,” I shoot, flipping the door handle.

  In Nathan’s bathroom, he draws the curtains and turns on the shower. When I enter, he pulls my shirt over my head, and I shimmy out of my jeans. Taking off my last garment, he instructs for me to get in and he leaves the bathroom to make a call.

  The hot water pounding on my head drowns out his conversation and washes off the stress of today. All of today. It was full of so much. . . So much fighting and pain. I’m ready for it all to be over, to wake up and it’s a regular Monday with my only worry being if I’m passing or failing anatomy.

  The showerhead above me rains down soft pellets of water. As I close my eyes and lean my head back, a kiss brushes my forehead, and then my once injured shoulder. Nathan and I wash, and I want to say so much, but the silence is better.

  I fall onto his mattress and Nathan sinks down on me. “Today was bad, but I’ll do what I can to prevent both situations from getting worse. I shouldn’t have fought you.” Most of the time, Nathan’s body is hard as a rock, but when we’re alone, and like this, he lets his shield down and I can melt into him. He surfs through my sphere, lifting me from our nerve-wracking world into another comic cluster of infinite shooting stars. “You’re amazing, Tracey.” I love you, okay? He holds my gaze with his new eyes, and a future for us reveals within them, along with the way he sees me as more than just a mate but his heart. There’s something about connecting on a mental and physical level that makes these kinds of actions more passionate. More sensual.

  We lie beneath the covers, breaths in sync. I prepare myself to let him go, awaiting the moment he’ll break our embrace to depart to his night’s ventures.

  “You don’t want me to?” he asks.

  “You don’t want me to answer that.”

  “If you want me to stay, Tracey, I will.”

  I avert the conversation. He needs to go, and I don’t want to be the reason he stays. “Your eyes turn this cool, new color. Did you see them?”

  “Some shade of orange?”

  “Yes. They say to me there’s gratification for the space I hold in your life.”

  He rubs my shoulder and kisses the top of my head.

  “Why do you waste your time fighting people?”

  He’s quiet, but before I can ask another question, says, “Because if I go around turning people into ash, everyone will know I can do that. It’s used as a last resort. My secret weapon.”

  “You’re about to leave?”

  “Yeah. Scott got back about forty-five minutes ago, and Olar’s waiting downstairs. They aren’t ready yet, so maybe in about an hour. Why?”

  “Just asking.” I tap his chest, singing, “So . . . are you going to tell me what’s in the closet?”

  Nathan chuckles. “Can’t get nothing past you?”

  I hold my smile. “What are you hiding?”

  “Do you want to see for yourself, or do you want me to tell you?”

  “I’ll go look for myself. Can I see right now?”

  “Don’t freak out,” he warns.

  I sit up, clutching the sheet to my chest. “Why would I?”

  “Just don’t.” He turns on his back and tucks his arms behind his head.

  I slide from the bed and rush to the closet. Closing the door behind me, I flick on the light and marvel at his bedroom-sized closet divided for he and I. Shoes, dresses, skirts, blouses, shorts, and jeans, outfits to dress up or down in, crowd the left side of his closet. I peek out of the door. “When did you have time to do this?”

  “Are you upset about it?”

  I turn the light off and rush back to the bed, slipping under the sheets. “No! Why would you hide it?”

  “We hadn’t made it official yet if you are moving in or not. But I wanted you to have things over here so you’ll be comfortable.”

  “I’ve been with you every day. When did you buy that stuff?”

  “I make time.” He yawns. “Take a nap. I’ll lay with you, and when you wake up, you’ll be dressed, and Taylor may be in here.”

  Glen should be back too, and I can’t wait to see her.

  Shaken, I jar awake, struck by a violent panic. I rip the clingy covers off me and find relief in being in Nathan’s bed instead of clutched in Roehl’s arms, as that tormenting dream had led me to believe.

  These dreams have been so vivid and real lately. I rub my fingers against my eyes, wishing for them to stop.

  “Tra
cey, get up!” I flick my gaze upward, immediately locating Glen. I throw my arms around her neck and squeeze her tight. She laughs, hugging me with equal strength. “Glen, I am so happy you’re okay.”

  I jump, hearing Taylor in my head saying, She doesn’t know or remember anything. Not even the hospital. It’s weird hearing someone besides Nathan in my mind.

  What does she think happened? I ask.

  She got sick and was asleep all day.

  Poor Glen. Scott is going to mess this girl’s head up by erasing all her memories. I look over Glen’s freckled face, my gaze sweeping over her red cheeks and excited eyes.

  She just doesn’t remember, so she figured she was sick and slept all day, Taylor adds. But Scott would prefer it stay that way until he gets the time to explain things.

  I pull back from Glen. “Did you have a good sleep?”

  “Yes. Nathan, Scott, and their cousin are gone. I can’t remember his name. Taylor said we needed to come and check on you. Plus, I wanted to see you. Were you having a bad dream? Or maybe you were having a sexy dream.” She waggles her eyebrows. “You were calling out Nathan’s name. You looked uncomfortable, though.”

  Taylor’s gaze burns me, but I focus on Glen. “It doesn’t matter. It’s over now.”

  “You’re right!” Glen agrees excitedly. “Come with us to the kitchen. I’m starving.” She gets up, looking around. “No wonder you two spend so much time in here. Nathan’s room is huge.” She and Scott were just in here the other day, and she doesn’t even remember that. We have to do something to help this along.

  Playing the part, I say, “I know, right?” Getting up from the bed, I’m fully dressed in even socks. I pull on my shoes, avoiding her eyes as she watches me. It kills me to not share things with her.

  Taylor wraps her arm around mine when I stand. “You know, I know how to cook too.”

  Glen squeezes between us, pushing us apart, and hooks her arms around ours. She’s a jealous girlfriend but doesn’t want to come off as a bitch to Taylor. “What can you cook?” Glen asks.