Olar and another’s disturbingly confident presence enter the room where we sit. I turn around to them; Olar and Monahan. Enraged, looking at Monahan, I stand too quickly. He smiles at me. Thrusting out my hand, a ball of fire bursts from my palm to Monahan, setting him on fire.
“O-kay. . .” Olar says, observing Monahan’s burning body. He tips his chin and walks out the room.
Monahan hits the floor.
I’m flooded with anger as I stare at Monahan’s burning body tainting the air with his roasting flesh. I fan away the fire with a whip of my hand, and he’s, unfortunately, alive. He quivers until passing out.
Olar returns. He grabs at Monahan’s body and yanks his hands back. “Ouch,” he yelps, shaking out his hands. “He’s still hot. I’ll just let him cool off for a second.”
“Bro, just get him out of here. He stinks,” Nathan orders.
“Okay. Okay.” Olar nods and waits before grabbing him again and quickly pulling him out.
Nathan grabs me by my shoulders. “Sparks, look at me.” I stare into his brown eyes. “Scott caught Glen. They’ll be okay. Just give it some time. She’s not dead.”
“Can we leave?” If I start crying again, I’d prefer to not do it here.
He nods with sorry eyes. “Olar, wait here for Scott and Glen. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Cool,” Olar calls from another room.
Nathan picks me up and rushes out the opening that leads to the mountain. He races around it and through a path. Twenty minutes later, we make it to his house, drenched by the pouring rain, freezing from the icy air.
“Did you find Glen?” Mrs. Waturstrom asks from the living room as we close the front the door behind us.
We walk into the living room and sit on the couch opposite of her. “Yes,” Nathan answers grimly.
“What happened?”
“I’d prefer not to say right now.”
Taylor, Justin, Little Nathan, and Natalia join us and take seats, with their eyes glued on Mrs. Waturstrom. “I have some things I would like to address now,” she says. Her hands rest, clasped together in front of her as she surveys her niece. “Taylor, your actions may be forgivable because you are a part of this family, but we cannot ignore your actions against our family. What is your response to these accusations?” Mrs. Waturstrom speaks in an odd tone that’s both demanding and mesmerizing as she quizzically enunciates her words.
Taylor flicks her gaze to Nathan and then me. After clearing her throat, she states, “I have risked others for my well-being. I’m ashamed of it.”
“What are your true feelings, Taylor?” Mrs. Waturstrom demands.
“I am sorry things happened the way they did.” She pauses and locks eyes with her mother. “But, I do not regret them.”
Oh. My. Gosh!
“Taylor,” Natalia starts; a whisper. “What are you saying?”
Mrs. Waturstrom continues, “What are your intentions, Taylor?” Her voice remains commanding of a response; a tone that seems to order the truth without the other person’s will. She sounds nothing like the kind nurse I’ve grown familiar with over the past four years.
“I will not go to Roehl. Not willingly.” Taylor’s answer is resolute. “He will get Tracey before he gets me.”
“Keep me down, Sparks,” Nathan growls under his voice. His grip tightens around my shoulder, and I have to shuffle out of his hold for him not to crush my bones.
“Everyone needs to stay calm,” the school nurse instructs. The disbelief in Natalia’s eyes burn. Mrs. Waturstrom continues, “Taylor, what happened when you saw Roehl?”
“I asked for his assistance in killing Father. He immediately declined.” Shock waves over Justin’s contemplative expression, and he scolds his mate with just a look. He goes ignored as an enamored Taylor continues, “I asked what I could offer to get his help. He responded that there was nothing. After asking again and being declined again, I told him Nathan had a mate.”
Nathan freezes, hard as a glacier.
“We made a deal that if he’d help, I would help him get Nathan and Tracey. He took my deal,” she informs with her head held high, no shame in her tone and no regret for her actions. “But the time to deliver Nathan and Tracey had passed after father died. And when he came to take them, Nathan killed his entourage and tried to kill him. So, he came for me, for repayment.”
“Did you let Glen get taken?” Mrs. Waturstrom asks.
“I did,” Taylor answers honestly.
“So, you never offered yourself to Roehl?” Nathan asks after an exaggerated and uncomfortable silence.
“I did, Nathan. You and me.”
My mind is a whirl of questions from her changed confession.
Mrs. Waturstrom glares at her. “That is not the truth, Taylor.”
“That is the truth,” Taylor defends.
“What is my ability, Taylor?”
Realization washes over her as the words leave her. “To force the truth willingly.”
Now the ugly truth is out.
pretty ugly
An ear-splitting bang shakes the floor.
“Nathan, no!” Natalia shouts, arm extended in front of her, left foot partially off the floor as she’s frozen in mid-step. A tear skates down her cheek and drips from her chin.
Unconscious, Justin’s face planted to the floor. Leaving the path to Taylor free of from anyone to interfere.
Overwhelmed with an anger that causes me to see red, Nathan’s had it. He takes two steps back after he approaches his sister—a mere inch from his attack, he restrains. “Come on, Taylor,” he growls, taking on his demon. The maroon complexion crawls over his flesh, replacing his human image with his true Burdened one. The back of his hair spikes out, and his body bulks, appearing impenetrable.
“Nathan, please don’t do this,” Natalia pleads, able to speak but unable to move.
“You will allow this to happen,” Mrs. Waturstrom orders, stepping out of the danger zone. “Taylor will fight for her right to remain in this family. She has done too much to be forgiven without proving herself.” She gives Nathan a single nod and says, “Don’t kill her.”
Nathan nods, never tearing his gaze from Taylor.
Taylor snaps, “This isn’t a fair fight, Nathan!” She steps out of his reach. Taylor can take on Nathan, we’ve seen her do it. Grant it, she may not win, but she can stand her ground and give him a pretty good fight.
I actually believed she was sorry, but she not only lied, she offered us to the slime of the earth. Glen was right. If it wasn’t for Taylor, after Papa Nathan’s passing, maybe everything would’ve been fine.
I redo my wet ponytail. “I’ll go against you, Taylor.” The words pour from me before crossing my mind. I step to Nathan’s side and look at Taylor head-on. “This way, you’ll have the upper hand.”
Nathan shifts back to his human form. “You sure you want to do that?”
I nod.
Taylor’s brows furrow. I’ve backed her in a corner by interfering in their affairs.
After a second glance between Taylor and me, Nathan nods and steps back. “You better not hurt her,” Nathan warns his sister.
Taylor glares as I move to stand before her. I let my rage consume me. I am so angry at her, Roehl, and this awful situation I’m in with him. I’m pissed I can’t find some kind of balance between my need for Nathan and my want for Roehl. I’m angry because I have a want for that monster. I’m mad about losing my best friend. Gah, Glen, I’m going to miss you so much. I’m infuriated there is no greater option for freedom than the shackles of death.
The sweltering vines slither over my ear and cross my cheek to my eye. My eyes cloak black, and as the rage builds, the feather appears on my cheek. I hate that ugly burning feather.
Taylor glowers, looking around the room. I don’t tear my gaze from her.
“Tracey, I—”
The center of my palm heats, and I thrust my hand toward Taylor, sending a blast at her. It smacks her in her
neck and the force of my attack sends her flying across the living room. She hits the floor on her back. “Don’t talk to me, Taylor. Sorry is only a word, and your words mean nothing.”
She gathers her footing, rubbing her hands together.
I don’t know what Taylor can do besides what Nathan’s told me about her being able to tell if someone is possessed and release them. But at this point, if she has some super awesome ability to rip my skin off, I don’t care. I just want to set her hair on fire and walk away.
Once on her feet, she claps once. Something rough smacks against my front, sending me flying into the wall behind me. Before the pain can set in, Nathan’s at my side, taking it away.
Okay. So, we’ll add that to Taylor’s abilities. Whatever the hell that was.
Going in for my attack, I throw heated punches against Taylor’s face, hitting her harder than I had hit her father. My fist connects with her cheek and eye, leaving burned flesh on its drawback. I twist, backing my punch with all the strength I have. Inches from ramming a jab into her face the fifth time, she grabs my hand, snatches me up by my neck, and slams me to the floor. I take her down with me, flipping over as we land. She’s much bigger than I am, allowing me an advantage in maneuvering around her. Flipping her onto her stomach, I get her in a headlock. The vines on my arms move, growing real, thorny lianas that leave my arm and wrap tightly around her neck, digging deep into her flesh—what should be impenetrable skin. Black liquid leaks from her puncture lesions, and her face reddens with my vines crushing her windpipes.
Whoa, this is new! And I like it!
The last vine leaves my arm. I jump to my feet and ram my foot against her back. Her spine crushes under my impact, and I’m not nearly finished with this snake. I turn her over with another kick. She’s already healing, but my vines give her no room to breathe as they constrict tighter and she gasps for air. I wish I could turn her into dust. Having a better idea, I lift my black palm and blow over it as if I’m blowing a kiss. A kiss of fire. A blaze leaves my hand as I blow, flaming Taylor’s clothes and hair.
She screams, tethered by my winding flames. Burning plants taint the air and the vines return, curving and slithering along my arm again. The vines appear to be gone from around Taylor’s neck. There’s a hint of satisfaction that bubbles in my stomach as Taylor cringes from the torture of my attack. Maybe she let me win. Maybe I’m stronger, tougher than I thought. But where I expect there to be remorse or guilt, there’s nothing but pride. I dare call it a victory.
Mrs. Waturstrom snaps and then points at her niece.
Reaching out to Taylor, I demand the fire to return. It whips through the air, back into my palm, leaving her clothes burned. She lies on the floor, panting, eyes closed. I look her over, feeling nothing for my sister.
Nathan tugs my arm. “Hey. That vine stuff is new. When did you start blowing fire?”
I shrug. Justin gets up and rushes over to his mate. Natalia is free too, also running to her. It’s when Natalia’s brows knit tightly, and her bottom lip trembles that a slight pinch of guilt squeezes the back of my neck. I still don’t feel bad for Taylor, but Natalia’s gone through enough and doesn’t need this too.
I part my lips to apologize, but Mrs. Waturstrom talks over me. “Is anyone not satisfied with Taylor’s punishment?”
“I’m not satisfied, but I’m sure that’s as close as she’s going to get to death.” Nathan scoffs sourly as he exits the living room.
I’m empty. Torn . . . I want to wash this entire day from my body and pass out hard.
Nathan runs me a bath, and I strip off my clothes and settle in the tub, submerging my tired body in the hot water. It’s less comfortable than I expect, but I hope to relax soon. The water laps against my skin as Nathan dips a towel in the tub. He wrings it out and places the warm cloth on my neck. I close my eyes. A kiss falls on my forehead. He mutters something in his language I’m unable to make out, but I don’t trouble him to translate. He’s yet to relieve himself from his wet clothes, and he has to be bombarded by my emotions.
Nathan leaves, closing the door behind him. I value that he has put me first, but I was ready for him to go. I often try to bury my thoughts and feelings when he’s near so I don’t make things worse for him, and it prevents me from being myself. He thinks Glen made it, and while I, too, want to be optimistic, that’s just not the life we live.
I sink further into the tub, to where just my nose rests above the water’s surface. I take in a few deep breaths and try to understand what happened today. None of it makes any sense. None of it was real. Glen’s infatuation with Monahan was a hoax, Roehl infecting Dad and causing him to hate Nathan to the extent of being a complete douchebag was a hoax, and Taylor was the biggest deceiver of them all. But why? Why are there so many secrets?
What brings to life a land of lies rained upon with broken truths. . ?
Maybe lives are made from secrets and lies.
I don’t want to have secrets, and I don’t want to lie anymore. It’s damaging. I’m going to tell Nathan my secret. I can’t be a hypocrite.
Nathan returns and unplugs the tub. Sitting up, I pull the now cold towel from my face. He’s changed, and I hope he’s comfortable as I’ve hogged his bathroom this entire time.
As the tub’s emptying, Nathan cuts the water back on and turns on the sprayer. I stand, and he joins me. In our silence, he washes my hair, and then my body, and I get out when he finishes.
I wrap my hands around my shivering arms. It’s oddly cold and stiff like a night where there is no wind but old fallen snow blankets the ground and icicles hang from the gutters.
I towel dry my hair as best I can and dress for sleep.
The light from the closet gives the room a soft, golden hue that keeps me from being swallowed by the darkness. I lay, gaze pinned on the ceiling, mind racing with memories of Glen jumping off the mountain and what I could’ve done differently, a torched Taylor and if I could’ve chosen door number two. I don’t want to hate the girl, but she’s making it so hard not to.
My lids droop, becoming too heavy to hold open. “Ugh,” I grumble, sitting up. I don’t want to doze off and dream about Roehl. Damn him. I want Nathan. There’s no doubt about that. Roehl and what he has done to our family disgusts me. And now I know that the confusion brings uncertainty and death. The last thing I want to do is kill myself. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could unsee some stuff. But there he is again, Roehl, with his golden sun and bright eyes, smiling at me with his enticingly sharp teeth and kissable lips. He taints the images in my head, replacing thoughts and experiences I’ve shared with Nathan with himself. Regrettably, I enjoy it.
I can no longer sit here. I have to fight this.
I’ll watch TV. That should keep my mind busy.
An hour passes before Nathan’s out of the shower. He passes me, heading to the closet, shorts hanging on his hips. Picking me up from the floor, he flicks off the TV, and we lay down. I’m grateful for his comfort when he wraps his arms around me and helps me to sleep without my thoughts of his brother.
I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping Glen and Scott are okay. Maybe Nathan’s right and Scott caught her.
transparent night
Angry lions attack my dreams. Their roars thrash through my haze, waking me from the sleep I finally caught up to. I grab the nearest pillow, shoving it against my head. “Shh. Damn lions.”
“What’s wrong, Sparky?”
“The lions. They’re too loud,” I grumble, drifting off.
“What lions?”
“The ones roaring, Nate. Duh.”
“Sparky, there are no lions. That’s Scott’s snoring.”
“Oh,” I scoot closer to Nathan, burying my face in his rib cage, shoving the pillow harder on my ear to block out Scott’s snoring. “Scott’s snoring?” I realize, jumping up on my knees.
Nathan wraps his arm around me the instant I move. “Don’t wake them. They got in a couple of hours ago.”
“Okay, I
won’t. Just let me look at her.” He moves his arm from around me and rolls over on his back.
I crawl to the end of the bed. On the floor, inches beyond the foot of Nathan’s bed, sleeping on a pallet of comforters and pillows is Scott, and Glen’s nestled tightly in his arms. The way he holds her, one arm sealed around her body, the other clutched around her head; he’ll never let her go again. I nod, satisfied they’re well. She’s alive!
“I told you everything’ll be fine, Sparks. Go back to sleep.”
I smile to myself. “Thanks.”
“Tracey, get up.” Glen’s soft whisper wakes me.
I peek through my lashes, seeing Nathan’s chest.
“Tracey?”
I slowly turn over, not wanting to wake Nathan.
“Tracey?” Kneeling at the side of the bed, Glen is eye level with me. She places a finger to her mouth and motions for me to come with her.
I peek over at Nathan, now turned onto his back.
I nod at Glen, and she steps back so I can get out of the bed. Maneuvering from beneath the covers, I gently swing my leg from the bed. As I’m moving the other, an arm wraps around my stomach, pulling me backward. He sits up behind me, pressing his head into the back of my neck. “Where are you sneaking off to?” he drawls in a quiet, groggy voice.
Glen shakes her head, bugging her eyes. I don’t know what’s up or what she wants, just that she doesn’t want Nathan or Scott to know.
I’m not sure, I tell him. Glen wants to go somewhere to talk about something and doesn’t want to wake you two.
Nathan’s arm slips from around me as he lies back down. Okay. Just don’t leave the house.
Brows high and eyes wide, Glen gives me a look that asks, ‘what was that about.’ I shrug, scooting off the bed.
Before I follow her from the room, I peek out of the window at the barely lit sky. Something must be bothering Glen. She never wakes this early. “What’s going on?” I ask, closing the bedroom door behind me when we make it into the hall.
Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2) Page 25
