Burning Emerald

by Jaime Reed

“No, no. It’s okay, it’s a good theory; it explains a lot.” I trailed off, my mind busy analyzing this new discovery.

  If the accounts were true, then that meant Tobias should’ve died with Nadine. I’d known this beforehand, understood it, but hadn’t quite grasped its significance until now. Lilith was keeping him alive. Similar to my connection with Caleb, I was his lifeline, but I was certain Tobias wouldn’t allow me to die of old age. To be fair, what was a measly eighty-odd years to an immortal?

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to come to Virginia? I can be there in ten hours.” Her urgent tone reclaimed my attention.

  The thought of Angie swooping down and declaring war on my town made me cringe, but it was good to know she had my back in case shit went down. “No, it’s okay. I just wanted you to know what’s going on. I can’t really tell Mom.”

  “You need to tell her soon. She has to be warned. Have you protected the house?”

  “Yeah. I put oil over the cars too. I don’t think Tobias would hurt my family. He’s trying to get into my good graces.”

  “Be careful, he just might. Incubi are charming and irresistible, even to us. Remember that. But also remember that you have a sentient in your body. Above anything else, Lilith’s vessel is her top priority. Nothing will invade her home without your consent. Don’t let her take over. You will choose your mate, not her.”

  After another thirty-minute pep talk, Angie promised to drop by for Thanksgiving, but I wasn’t banking on it. She had a family of her own, a husband, a son, and two other Cambion daughters to look after, and I didn’t want her abandoning them to deal with my issues. At some point, I’d have to see her soon, for the connection with Lilith demanded that she reunite with her source occasionally.

  I stretched across my bed and looked over Angie’s journal, hungry for more words of wisdom from the past. The Petrovskys were the oldest and most esteemed Cambions in existence, springing those under their dominion into action by a single word. These entries not only followed the Petrovsky bloodline, but listed over fifty Cambion clans, stretching across East Asia, Europe, North Africa, and South America. Three major families lived in the United States alone, including a powerful family who ran the entire East Coast.

  These chronicles also served as a Cambion rulebook, establishing codes of conduct far different from those of the outside world. One particular law brought a chill to my spine, ringing truth to Tobias’s conviction. Killing your own kind was a big no-no in this dark society, and Angie would have been well within her rights to put Caleb and his brothers to death for their negligence.

  Not only had they been spared, but they’d been adopted as extended members of Angie’s dynasty. Caleb’s family was beyond broken, with a fallen patriarch and a tarnished reputation. Bonding with Caleb would connect the families permanently, granting security and prestige. I just wasn’t ready for that kind of power play, and I refused to be pressured into anything, no matter how sweet the temptation.

  Thinking of Caleb reminded me that I hadn’t harassed Haden and Michael for a good twelve hours, and I was overdue. I grabbed my phone again and bombarded the brothers with a new round of texts. Michael must’ve been bored keeping watch, because for the past week, he’d been dressing Caleb up and sent pictures of him to everyone he knew. Today’s uploaded image included that blond elf wig, a pink bra (no doubt borrowed from one of the nurses), and bright blue eye shadow. Michael was one sick puppy, but he helped take the edge off of waiting for the unknown.

  Caleb still showed no improvement and I knew he needed more energy from me. I could almost hear him crying out, dragging through the wasteland for one drop of water, but for his own safety, the energy from his brothers would have to make do until I figured something out.

  The ring of the doorbell shot me to attention. I raced downstairs and peeked through the front window to find the last man I wanted to see. At first, I didn’t recognize him due to his casual attire and the pleasant look on his face. David Ruiz paced back and forth on the front deck, appearing out of breath and out of time.

  I pressed my back against the door and asked in a deep man voice, “What do you want?”

  “Hello, Samara,” he greeted cheerfully. “Nice to see you again. Is your mother here?”

  So much for disguising my voice. “She ain’t here.” I moved to the dining room window and opened the pane by an inch. “I’m not allowed to have company inside the house while she’s out.” It wasn’t a total lie, but he didn’t need to know that. And where was Mom? She should’ve been home from work by now.

  “She told me to meet her. She wanted to discuss a few things over dinner. I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” He pulled a cell phone from the inner pocket of his blazer and began to dial. He waited a beat before he smiled at the voice on the other end.

  “Hi, Julie. I’m at your house, but where are you?”

  Julie? Had I missed something?

  “Yeah... . Okay, that’s fine. I can wait.... No, no trouble at all.... All right, hold on.” He bent down and slid the phone through the crack in the window. “She wants to talk to you.”

  I put the phone to my ear and waited for Mom to tell me whether she’d lost her mind. Clearly she had—she ordered me to allow him inside to wait for her. Too distracted with chewing me out for ditching class, she’d forgotten to tell me that she’d invited him for dinner. She was running late at the office and would be home in fifteen minutes, and that was sixteen minutes too long for me.

  I closed my eyes and called on the forces of the universe to get through this meeting. I had to act normal and not give away anything that might make him suspicious. A difficult feat, seeing as the man was a six-foot-tall accusation.

  Cursing under my breath, I balanced my shoulders and opened the door. “Come on in.” I handed him his phone.

  “Thank you. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

  “Not at all,” I assured behind a plastic smile. “You can wait in the living room.”

  “You have a very nice home.” He strolled around the sitting area, perusing the knickknacks and figurines placed around the room.

  I stood by the entryway with my arms folded, not daring to cross the threshold. “Thank you.”

  “You can relax, Samara. I’m off duty.” He stopped in front of the fireplace and picked up a picture of me. “This is adorable. How old were you?”

  I studied the photograph from where I stood. “Ten. It was Easter at my nana’s house.”

  “Hmm. You shouldn’t hide your natural eye color. You’re prettier without contacts.” His dark stare had a hardness to it, not quite human, but more of an android on a search-and-destroy mission.

  I shrugged. “It’s just a phase, I guess.”

  He returned the picture, then picked up another. “A sentimental gesture, I suppose. Because Nadine Petrovsky had green eyes as well, a very unusual shade, very clear and prismatic.” He offered a plaintive smile. “I’m sorry. The pictures in her file are very precise, and the color is a very hard thing to forget—so vivid.”

  “Right ...” I drew out the word.

  “Tell me, how have you handled the grieving process? I’m sure it must be hard for you living within the same room the murder took place. Have you spoken to any grief counselors?” He stepped near the couch in the exact place where Nadine had taken her last breath, as if an X marked the spot for him to stand and mock me.

  “No. I’m fine, although my mom is going to a group.” I watched his feet, clad in Italian leather, tread over my friend’s splayed arm and hair. The sofa hid the rest of her, so I was spared from seeing her face, her brows furrowing in pain at the foot crushing her hand.

  Get off of her! Can’t you see her laying there? Move! I wanted to say, but it would only prove what I already knew, what my parents feared, and what Ruiz probably suspected.

  I was losing it. Fast.

  Silence dominated the room. The seconds crawled along as we faced each other like a pair of gunslingers. Sweat beaded
my forehead as the man began to take on a skewed, funhouse mirror impression. I looked around the sitting area, noting how the furniture seemed to look flat as cutouts in a pop-up book. Whether it was the room or my own disorder, I had to get out of there.

  Remembering my manners, I turned around and asked, “Did you want something to drink?”

  “Sure. What you got?”

  I counted the list of options on my fingers. “Water, iced tea, soda, purple stuff, Sunny D.”

  “Tea would be nice, thank you.” Still holding my picture, he took a seat.

  My hands shook as I wiped the clamminess from my palms. I waited until I was in the privacy of the kitchen before I freaked out. What was I going to do? And what was taking Mom so long? This guy wasn’t going to let the subject drop, and sitting at the scene of the crime didn’t help my neurosis at all. Taking long, measured breaths, I wiped the tears from my eyes. While pouring the man his tea, something moved to my left. As if my day could get any worse, Tobias loomed at my back door in a cloud of bad karma.

  I opened the door and lo and behold, my nemesis stood there looking good enough to eat, in a gray turtleneck sweater and designer jeans.

  He leaned against the doorjamb and struck a pose. “What’s wrong?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “You’re upset, and for once it’s not my fault. I had to see why.”

  My gaze dropped to my sneakers. “I’m not upset.”

  “Again. Tears. Thunder. Loud. Annoying. So why are you upset? Better yet, what’s Magnum P.I. doing in your house?”

  “The second that becomes your business, you’ll be the first to know,” I replied.

  “You know he’s been following you for about a week now, right?”

  “And you would know that how?”

  “Because I’ve been following you, too,” he answered with such coolness, as if violating a girl’s privacy were part of a balanced diet.

  “Well, at least now I know to request a restraining order.” I tried to shut the door, but he held out his hand.

  “I don’t trust that guy. There’s something off about him.” Tobias craned his neck to see behind me. “He makes you uncomfortable as well—I can feel it. Why is he here?”

  “He’s still investigating Nadine’s murder.”

  “I thought it was open and shut.”

  I shrugged. “Apparently not.”

  He frowned. “Let me talk to him.”

  “What? No. I’ll handle this.”

  “Come on, Flower, I can get through his wall better than you can. I’m telling you, this guy is crooked somehow. He knows something, and I don’t want him alone with you. Let me in.”

  I didn’t want to be alone with Ruiz, either. Just the thought of going back into the living room made me throw up a little in my mouth. However, with Tobias here, my stomach churned for a different reason of which I didn’t care to explore. I didn’t own the courage to do this alone and Tobias, in his sick, self-centered way, was willing to help.

  “Fine. Come in.” Knowing this would come back to bite me later, I stepped back from the door and waited.

  He studied the four sides of the doorframe, then took a deep breath. “There’s oil on the threshold. I can’t come in.”

  “But I just invited you in.”

  His eyes slowly rolled up to meet mine. “Wrong folklore, sweetheart. I need to cover the oil. Good thing I came prepared.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out a Ziploc bag full of powder. “Here, pour some of this over the door.”

  Taking the bag from him, I examined the strange gray dust. “What is it?”

  “It’s a neutralizer that will counteract the oil. Now pour it down.”

  I did as instructed and spread it around evenly with my foot. Once done, Tobias placed one foot over the border, testing the area, then stepped inside. He sighed in relief, loosened his limbs, and cracked his neck. “Okay, where is he?”

  “In the living room. Are you going in there like that?”

  “Don’t worry about me. You just make yourself scarce. You giving him that glass of tea?”

  “Oh yeah.” I reached out and grabbed the glass. When I turned around, I nearly screamed. Tobias had morphed again, in one of the most disturbing transformations yet. Precise from head to toe stood an exact duplicate of myself, right down to the outfit.

  He took the glass from me. “If you want to listen, keep out of sight.”

  I just watched, dumbstruck, as he left the kitchen. No mirror could capture the full detail of seeing yourself, and I had to pull my eyes away. This reflection moved independently and allowed me to take in the full dimensions of its form. However, from this angle, my butt wasn’t as flat as I’d suspected.

  This whole body-swap thing turned out to be a bad idea, and why I’d gone along with it was beyond me. I didn’t know what bothered me more, that I had allowed an incubus in my house and let him impersonate me, or the fact that my mom couldn’t tell the difference. One hug from Tobias had her grinning, all stupid and weak at the knees. He would make a fortune as an actor, because he rendered my smile, my hand gestures, and the inflections in my speech with haunting accuracy.

  The party moved to the kitchen, where Mom unloaded groceries and prepared for dinner. As my life played out before my eyes, I hid from sight, a tricky exercise while trying to eavesdrop. If Mom wasn’t zipping around the kitchen, Ruiz kept leaving the room to answer his cell phone every ten minutes. I ducked and hid around corners, mindful of the paradox of time travel: The past and the present can never meet and two of the same matter could never occupy the same space.

  Of course, Tobias saw me and hid his smile with a cough, ignoring my signals for him to scram. I finally gave up and sat at the top of the stairs, listening to myself talk during the most awkward dinner ever. To add insult to injury, it was Taco Night and Tobias was eating my share.

  I was a second away from revealing myself when Tobias stood up from the table. “Excuse me for a minute.”

  He made his way to me. His eyes, or more accurately, my eyes, grew wide with that have-you-lost-your-mind look that was my calling card. “What is wrong with you? You could’ve exposed the both of us.”

  “I can take it from here. Thanks.” I tipped my head in the direction of the door.

  “It was just getting good.”

  “Well, it’s always good to leave a party early. Now get lost.”

  He eased me toward the kitchen, out of view of the dining room. Leaning in, he whispered, “I pulled some of his energy, but his memories are under lock and key.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “He’s blocking me. Takes years of practice to be able to do that. Which means he knows about us. He knows what we—correction, what you—are.”

  “What?” This was just great. “What do we do?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s your problem now.” He moved to the back door.

  I pulled his arm. “Wait.”

  He turned to me with humor. “Stay, go, come in, get out. You really know how to play with a guy’s head.”

  “What should I do?”

  The smile melted from his face as he caught the fear on mine. “For one thing, act normal and stop looking guilty. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Wow. That’s a big help. Staring myself in the face didn’t improve my mental health, either. Under closer inspection, I caught him peeking behind the eyes, making the color appear more hazel than green. “Yeah, great. You can go now.”

  My doppelganger grew an extra foot and a half and lightened in complexion. If I’d blinked, I’d have missed the morphing process. Tobias, in his cruel deliciousness, backed away toward the door with his bottom lip poked out. “Aw, so soon.”

  He wasn’t moving fast enough for me, so I pushed his chest to help him along. “Get out and take your fairy dust with you.” I handed over his personal effects, then snatched it back. “What is this powder anyway? Is it magic?”

  “It’s not magic nor pow
der. It’s ash.”

  Holding the bag to the light, I examined it closely. “Ash? Like from a fireplace?”

  “Something like that.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. Knowing I would regret it, I asked, “Where did you get it?”

  He hesitated for a moment before saying, “Remember in the cafeteria, I told you I spent the night with a widow after I left your house?”

  I struggled to recall. “Yeah. You slept with her and made her believe that you were her dead—OH MY GOD! These are her husband’s ashes!” I dropped the bag on the floor and wiped my hands on my jeans.

  This wasn’t real. There was no way this guy had brought dead remains into my house. No one was that sick. For a moment there, I forgot who I was talking to.

  “That’s the only thing that could break the barrier. Your oil sanctified the entire house. I had to desecrate the dwelling to enter.”

  “With a dead guy?” I asked while trying to keep my voice down.

  Snickering, he picked up the bag and tucked it in his pocket. “It’s not a corpse, Samara. It’s just the ashes.”

  My body shook in disgust, fighting the urge to coldcock this dude straight in his grill. I’d seen enough death to last a lifetime, and even Nadine would agree that this was way too morbid. Oh my God, I actually touched it! There’s only so much a girl can take, and I stood a breath away from losing my mind or my lunch, whichever came first.

  “Get out!” I hissed through my teeth.

  He had the nerve, the complete and utter gall, to look upset. “Calm down.”

  I nearly fell back in a dead faint; blood pounded around my temples. “Calm down? Really? What reason do I have to calm down? My boyfriend is in a coma, my mom’s flipping out, my best friend hates me, I’m failing government and trig, I’m being shadowed by the cops, and now I’ve got dead man crumbs all over my floor. Get. Out!”

  He had the inhuman strength to fight me, but he didn’t, and one good shove sent him into the chilly night. Just when I was about to shut the door in his face, he said, “Oh, one more thing you might want to know.”

  “What?” I bit out the word.