Nathan’s having a hard time managing whatever’s happening within him. His constant deep breaths and morphing of his skin concerns me. From smooth to brittle, it shifts under my touch. I face him, and my nose brushes his. As I kiss my calm into his lips, his black eyes lift to mine. I place my hand to his cheek. “It’s okay.”
His lips find mine again, stealing a kiss meant to further his calm. It’s begging. Not begging me, but himself. I draw back and peer into pitch-black eyes. He’s not okay. I feel it all over him; guilt, hate, hurt, and desire.
He leans forward, and I retract. He squints, studying me. She pulled away from me. His thoughts echo in my head again.
Whoa! Nathan, what is wrong? I ask.
“What are you doing?” he asks, voice dark and angry.
I knit my brows. “Nathan, let’s step outside for a second,” I say, standing and pulling his arm. He doesn’t budge, and I widen my eyes. “Come on.”
Reluctantly, he stands, muttering, “Excuse us.”
We make it outside, and I lean against the wall of the garage, out of view of neighbors. “Nate, what’s wrong—” His lips smash down on mine. His forceful kiss hurts from his rough lips and sharp teeth scraping at my mouth. “Nathan, stop,” I mumble against his mouth, shoving his face away from mine.
His eyes shoot open. A deep blue swirl outlined in gray stabs through me. Should I call it fear? He grows taller right before my eyes. She did it again, his angered thoughts growl in my head.
“You need to calm down, Nathan,” I warn.
“Why do you keep pulling away from me?”
“What is wrong with you?” I reach for his neck, but he snatches my wrist back before I can. His shoulders spread out broader and his complexion shifts from beast to human. “What the hell has happened?” He’s freaking me out.
Hands clutched tightly around my wrists, he yanks me to him and tries to kiss me again. I avoid him, wrenching away, feeling the rejection from the separation strike my chest. “Nathan, where is all of this aggression coming from? What’s going on with you?” I avert to move from between him and the door and his arms shoot out, blocking me.
“Tracey,” he growls. “Stop. Pulling. Away from me,” he snarls through his teeth.
“Nathan, you’re turning red, you’re almost seven feet tall, and your eyes are their demon color. You’re starting to scare me.”
“What?”
He steps toward me, and I press my hand against his chest to hold him back. “You’re changing! Why are you so upset?”
“Just let me kiss you.” His voice softens. “And hold on to me.” I need you, and it’s fucking with me you keep pulling away. His angry thoughts cut into mine, and I don’t think he realizes I can hear them.
“Nathan, calm down. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
He squeezes his eyes shut and reopens them. “I can’t. I’m not in control of this,” he snarls. “The only thing keeping me from ripping your fucking head off is your heartbeat.”
“If you know you’re not in control, get in control. You’re making me uncomfortable.”
His head bows in defeat, the Burdened ruling over the Sephlem. His hand gently slides over my neck, the cuff of it easily shoving against my throat. As he inhales, his sharpened teeth peek behind his darkened lips. Licking them, he backs away, growling.
I pant, relieved he’s moved. “Nate.” I place my hand on his shoulder as he pivots.
He snatches away from me, barking, “Stop, Tracey. Get away from me.” There’s so much vigilance in his tone.
My hands warm, and my eyes demand me to blink, warning me Nathan’s a threat. He wants to harm me. I fear blinking because I don’t want to see what he intends to do to me. I don’t want to know . . .
“Nate?” I ignore the threat, gently slipping my hand behind his shoulder, and pulling him to me. Giving in, I rise on my toes and meet his lips. His body shifts, struggling between indulgent and inflexible. He grabs my waist and yanks me close. Let her scent calm you down. Get it together, Nate. You can’t hurt her, he thinks, inhaling. Taking control of my calming kiss, he shifts our moods, pushing my kiss past an innocent caress.
“Nathan,” I say, against his mouth, unable to move away from him. “Stop.” I press my hands against his chest, trying to push him away, but the biggest blast I possess spurts from my hand.
I fly backward, hitting the wall behind me, and I fall to the ground onto my stomach. Grumbling, I lift myself to my knees and lean back, trying to catch my breath.
A low rumble of snarls kick starts my panic. Slowly lifting my gaze, I take in the venomous, seven-foot monster. “Sh-shit, Nate, please don’t.” I have the slightest idea how to fix this, and by the murderous look on his maroon face, I’m dead. Olar, please come out here and help me. Something is wrong with Nathan.
“Nate,” Olar calls from behind him, nearer the front door of Scott’s hours. “It’s Tracey,” he kindly reminds him. The cautiousness in his tone freaks me out.
Nathan blinks slowly, no recognition crossing his eyes. But his thoughts say the opposite, I know who she is. I can’t control it.
Olar nears him, and Nathan defensively whips around. He stalks toward Olar. I blink, glimpsing what he’s going to do.
“Nathan!” I bark his name demandingly. He freezes mid-stride, intentions changing. “Stop!” I demand, seeing his hate flip from Olar to me.
He fixes me with a side-glance over his shoulder.
Hurting Nathan means hurting me, but if hurting myself is what it takes to control him, I’m willing to do that. I promised I’ll help at any costs, and I’m standing by this promise.
Taking advantage of his pause, I croon, “Nate, please? Come back.”
He veers on his heels and charges at me, full demon, fully out of control.
Olar knocks Nathan to the side, stopping him from attacking me. Nathan twists around, and I jump in front of Olar, guarding him against Nathan’s attack.
Nathan stops and stares. She’s going to protect him from me?
“I’m protecting you from you, Nathan. Please come back? Get control over yourself.” I step toward him, and Olar grabs my shoulder. Hear me, Nate, I start. Open up and let me in. There’s no ending to our happy forever if you can’t control this. We’ll experience our ending before we can enjoy, indulge, and start our beginning. We’ve not had the chance to explore the infinity of each other yet, babe. There are still a million questions and a billion things I want to experience with you. Don’t rob us of them. Don’t murder us.
Nearing me, he shrinks in size with every steady step. The night swirls from his eyes when he makes it to me, wrapping his thick arms around my back. I return his hug, grateful for whatever switch flipping. “I’m sorry, Sparks.” He lifts me from the ground, and I wrap around him, holding him until he’s no longer hard as a brick.
“It’s okay. You didn’t hurt me,” I tell him as my feet hit the ground.
“Good. But you hurt you.”
I dust myself off and shrug. “No biggie. I’ll risk me to save you.”
“We’re going to have to reconsider this.” He bumps fists with Olar. “Sorry.”
“It wasn’t bad, like, at all. Nothing like the past. You’re good,” Olar assures with a proud voice and stone surprise stuck in his wide eyes. We release a sigh of relief.
Since we’re in the neighborhood, Olar and Lana drop us off at my house. Mom and Dad are in the kitchen, laughing over a meal they’re preparing. Nathan and I sit at the breakfast bar. We must look as bad as we feel because when Mom looks at us, she’s rushing over, rubbing our hands. “What happened? What’s wrong?” she hurries.
I look at her and then Nathan. His eyes are sustaining their hazel-brown, but the spot behind his ear is his demon complexion. His hair’s just barely covering it up. Dad comes to Mom’s side. “You two don’t want to talk about it?” he asks, concern thick in his tone.
Tears burn my eyes, and I blink them away. I’m done crying, and I need to pull it
together. I breathe raggedly. “Glen and Scott were in a bad accident.” I pause, and then it spills out, “They didn’t make it.” I choke on the it, and I hope this is the last time I have to have the conversation.
“Oh, honey. Nathan, I am so sorry.” She comes out of the kitchen, around to us.
We face her, and Mom wraps her arms around our necks and pulls us to hug her. I hold it together as strongly as I can. She breaks away, and I reach out to her, pulling her back, breaking down against her shoulder. She soothingly rubs my back. “Shh,” she sings softly. We rock in our hug. “I know, honey. Let it out.”
I draw back and wipe my eyes. Dad’s rubbing Nathan’s neck as a father would his son. I can hear nothing, but I see him nodding and Dad’s mouth moving. I look up at Mom. Her mouth is moving too, but I don’t hear what she says. My heart races. My breaths are deep. The room closes in on me and every ounce of my body I feel to the tenth power. Every pulse pounds harder against my flesh, shuddering my skin.
Sparks, what’s wrong?
I can’t hear. Everything is wrong. The edges of my site blur black and burgundy.
You’re having an anxiety attack.
I tremble. Is that what’s going on?
He stands, saying something to Dad. Stepping to my side, he says something to Mom. They leave us.
Nathan grabs my hand and kisses my cheek. Ten seconds slowly tick by. “That’s just terrible, we should check in on Glen’s mother in the morning,” Mom’s saying. I huff a sigh and meet Nathan’s eyes.
“I have never experienced anything like that,” I say, resting my forehead against his chest. He rubs the back of my head, stroking my hair in the direction my ponytail is tied. The relaxing feeling of it accommodates his calming scent.
“Too much stress.”
“Tell me about it. I have anxiety attacks, and you go demon,” I say quietly, unable to tell how close my parents are.
He laughs. “That’s not even funny. I’m sorry about that. I lost control.”
“No, you tried to control yourself. You wanted to rip my head off, but you didn’t.” I lean back on the stool. “When you’re losing it, your thoughts creep in my head. My scent.” I take a deep breath as I rub my hand down my neck. “You wanted it to calm you. But then, you wanted me to kiss you. It wasn’t you kissing me, though, and it was too forceful.”
“That sounds about right. But I didn’t know about you being able to hear my thoughts though.”
“Not everything, but some things. Mainly when you would try to calm yourself down, I think.”
He chews on his bottom lip. “Uh, well, it’s good for you that I love you.”
“You said that too.”
“Said what?” Dad asks, walking back into the kitchen.
“That I love her,” Nathan answers too comfortably.
“It’s good that you do.”
“Honey, you staying home tonight?” Mom asks, rubbing my back.
“Yes. Nathan’s house is crowded.”
“Why?” She looks to Nathan. “It wouldn’t be because of—”
“No,” he cuts her off. “During the summer, we always have a house full. Everyone comes out to visit.”
“You have more than enough room,” Dad says.
“We do, but it’s starting to get a little packed.” Crap. I said we. I shake my head, ready to hear it.
“We?” Dad replies with an unnecessary exaggeration. “I’d say you are mighty comfortable, Tracey Warren.”
I’m not answering that. I am comfortable, but I know this talk will lead to how comfortable I am, and somehow, we will end up talking about things that will further my discomfort.
I leave to the family room.
“James, Karen, do you mind if I stay here for a while?”
“No, Nathan. Of course not. Stay as long as you’d like.”
“Thank you, James.” Nathan sits next to me, and I lay my head against his shoulder. We sit close, closer than we usually would in front of my parents, with his arms wrapped around me and my head tucked into his neck. We share our thoughts to keep our minds busy, to keep away his darkness and my absurdities. He shows me the mountains and sky, I show him the stars, and we just exist, finding peace within each other once again.
convenient irritant
The patter of little feet has been charging through the house all day. There are almost as many children as there are adults. Over the last couple of months more of our relatives have arrived and all of them, all of them, came accompanied with two or more children. Just about every room with a TV has a show playing with way too many rhyming songs and catchy phrases I’m sure will be stuck in my head for the rest of my life.
“Aaahhh! Stop him! Stop him!” a little voice shrills.
I twist around. Marsha’s fleeing toward me. She rounds me, hiding behind my legs.
Aaron comes down the hall like a raging bull. “Get out of the way, Tracey!” he shouts.
“Stop him, Tracey! Stop him!” she cries, scared out of her mind.
“What is going on, you two?” I ask over their screams.
Aaron tries to grab her, chasing her in circles around me.
“Okay! You two are making me dizzy.” I squat down, grabbing both of them. “That’s enough.” Holding them apart from each other, I ask, “What’s the matter?”
“He’s trying to kill me!” she yells, pointing.
“She threw knives at me!” he shouts back. “I am trying to kill her!”
“Stop him, Tracey!”
“Okay. Aaron, stop. Don’t kill her,” I say awkwardly, sure that can’t be what I’m supposed to say.
He waggles around, trying to break free. “She needs to pay!”
I let Marsha go, turning fully to Aaron. Before I can speak, she slaps him in the face and runs off down the hallway. Aaron jerks out of my grip and runs after her.
I stand, stunned, watching them chase each other. “I am never having kids.”
“Never?” Nathan drawls, coming up behind me.
“Did you just see that?”
“Yep.”
“What type of craziness?”
“That’s what they do. They’re children.”
I finish my route to the front room. “Children are supposed to sit around and say they’re ABCs, being good.”
“They do that too.” He points, adding, “This is what they do after.”
“Nathan! Tracey!” Sounds like Carmen yelling from the front door.
“It is. I think they just got here,” Nathan says.
Summer has brought us warm weather and a new knock on the door every week. It’s overcrowded and always loud. Some people complain, and others just go with it. Like the McCallister’s house around Christmas time.
We meet Natalia, Carmen, and her brothers at the front door.
“Tracey, how are you?” Carmen sings, throwing her arms around my neck.
I return her hug. “Good. I was wondering when you were coming over.”
“I’m here now.” She throws a punch against Nathan’s chest. “Dude, have you gotten taller?”
“Yes,” I exaggerate.
“No,” he retorts. “I’m the same height.” Yeah, you think so. Nathan’s gotten taller, he just doesn’t see it. It’s probably from his advancing that follows bonding.
“You think your house is full of enough people?” she asks, watching Naomi—Nathan’s aunt from California—chase after two other children.
“Yes,” I say, as they run around us to the living room.
“What are you two getting ready to do? Let’s go scale a mountain,” she chimes, bouncing on her toes. “Can we?”
“Yeah, let’s go mountain climbing,” Courtney seconds, grabbing one child running past him. “Hey, Percy.” Percy struggles to get loose and Courtney places him back on the floor. He hits the ground running.
“I’m definitely down for mountain climbing,” Carteal adds.
“Me too,” Nathan chimes in. “You in?” he asks me.
&n
bsp; “I’m okay with anything that gets me out of this danger zone.”
Cindy rushes past with Percy on her heels. They circle us, and Percy uses my leg to hold him from turning too far as he heads in a different direction. He nearly knocks me off my feet.
“I think they should come with signs like roads,” Carmen says, watching them run back down the hallway.
“I agree. Like, Danger Ahead, Stay Away.”
“Far away,” she adds. We laugh.
The five of us race off to a mountain a few hours from the house. The wind’s warm against my skin and the mid-afternoon sun is high and bright. Everyone’s charged up and excited about this climb that we have no ropes, harnesses, or protective wear for. It’s just us. I feel like we’re daredevils trying to accomplish mission impossible.
We approach the base of the mountain and Courtney jumps over eight feet in the air onto the rock. Grabbing onto it, he cheers, “Yee haw!” and climbs faster than my eyes can follow. Carteal’s slower. Instead of jumping, he starts from the ground and climps up.
Nathan wants to attack the mountain too, there’s admiration in his eyes as he watches his cousins. Nudging him with my elbow, I encourage, “Go.”
An enthusiastic smile spreads his raspberry colored lips. “I’ll be back.” He flicks his gaze to Carmen. “Look out for her?”
“I got it,” she says. “We’re going to climb at her skill level.”
“Thanks.” He rushes off, jumping high like Courtney did. Climbing inhumanly fast, he jumps even higher when he reaches the next ledge. I admire his enjoyment, remembering this is one of his favorite things to do.
“Come on, Tracey.” Carmen runs to the mountain, and I follow behind her. We face the large rock, preparing to make it my bitch.
That’s right, Sparky! Own that rock!
I laugh.
“The key to it is not to think, Tracey. Trust your body to climb and not fall, trust that your hands will pull you up and your feet will be your leverage and have fun releasing whatever stress the world has brought upon you on the mountain.” She pinches her nose and nods. “It can take it.”
Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2) Page 42
