Forgotten Specters: The Fated Wings Series Book 2

by C. R. Jane

  I was fast coming to the conclusion that I would have to stop ignoring all of the strange things about myself, and what I had been seeing since I met Damon, Mason, and Beckham. Growing up, I had always wanted to just be… normal. Even if it meant ignoring what was right in front of my face, whether it was my freak healing abilities, my ability to master almost any new skill, the intense feelings (whether it was hate, lust, or love) that I engendered in everyone. I always told myself everything would be alright if only I didn't think about it. But I couldn't ignore any longer that something was wrong with me.

  I was an aberration, a freak. I wondered if no one knew where I came from because I had been some sort of science expert gone wrong or something.

  I laid there for a few minutes, trying to find peace in the sound of the ocean and the seagulls floating in through the window I had left open the night before. I eventually decided it was rude to laze the morning away feeling sorry for myself when I was a guest, and that I needed to get up. I also had the desperate urge to be around Beckham and Mason. They helped fill the empty hole inside of me that seemed to be growing wider the more revelations I discovered about myself. I wanted to bask in Beckham's smile and melt into Mason's kiss. Although let's be honest, I wouldn't mind kissing Beckham either. And then there was Damon as well…

  I made my way into the bathroom and finally figured out the shower after a few minutes of fiddling around with the knobs. When I came back out into the bedroom wrapped in the fluffiest, softest towel I had ever felt, there was a gorgeous crimson sundress laid out on the bed in my size along with matching sandals. While I wondered at how Beckham had known my size, I wasn't going to argue with such a gorgeous gift. I blushed thinking about Beckham being in my bedroom while I was in the shower naked.

  I slipped into the dress, and ran a comb that I had found in Beckham's magic toiletry drawer down my hair. I opened the door and started walking down the long hallway to where I thought I remembered the kitchen being. I still couldn't get over the size of all the places I had been lately. Between Damon's penthouse, the hotel suite in L.A., Tommy's mansion, and now Beckham's "cottage," I felt like I had experienced the lap of luxury.

  As I got nearer to the kitchen, I heard deep voices discussing something back and forth. It sounded like Mason and Beckham. I stopped near the entrance to the kitchen when I heard my name.

  "Have you been able to tell what she is?" Beckham asked. "Is she a succubus, or perhaps some kind of vampire? She certainly has the sex appeal of both species," he continued.

  "She's definitely not either," Mason replied. "If she was a succubus she would have a similar energy pattern as I do, and I haven't seen any sign of vampiric traits."

  Mason hesitated for a moment.

  "Honestly Beck, her energy pattern is similar to yours, just on a much higher frequency. She might be whatever you are."

  Beckham huffed.

  "Well that's helpful since we know so much about where I came from," he muttered.

  "She doesn't seem to know what she is," said Mason. "How is it possible that she could have lived her whole life not knowing that she's more than human?" he asked. "And if she really doesn't know, it would mean that she really is just 18," he said with a little wonder in his voice.

  Beckham interjected.

  "Didn't you tell me she was just about to turn 18? Did you miss her birthday? You know that 18 is usually the birthday…"

  I stopped listening at this point, my mind churning over the information they had divulged. I could care less about my birthday as I had never had anyone celebrate it with me before. The only reason it was a little important this year was because it meant legally the Andersons would have no right to me.

  What was actually important at this moment is that Mason and Beckham had basically said they were creatures I had only read about in fairy tales, and that I probably was one too. I wanted to believe they were crazy with talks of succubi, vampires, and the like, but it honestly sounded more palatable to me that there was a supernatural reason for my abilities than that I was a crazy science experiment that was grown in a test tube like I had been thinking earlier. My heart sped up and my hands got clammy. I should just go in there and confront them about what I had heard, but I was too nervous.

  I decided to creep back to my room when I noticed the voices had stopped. I felt a whoosh of air in front of me and all of a sudden Mason was staring back at me suspiciously.

  "How long have you been standing here Eva?" he asked, not bothering to make an excuse for the fact that he had basically just appeared in front of me. "You should have just come into the kitchen. Breakfast is ready."

  "I just got here," I answered brightly, both of us knowing that I was lying.

  Luckily Mason didn't press me on the issue, instead, he pulled me in for a kiss that left me aching.

  "I missed you last night," he whispered in my ear.

  I melted into his embrace. Supernatural or not, this man had been nothing but amazing to me. I couldn't find it in me to be afraid of him, or Beckham for that matter. I suddenly thought of the extraordinary skills that Damon had shown. Obviously he was more than he seemed as well. I felt overwhelmed. I just escaped an attic for goodness sakes and the first men I meet aren't even human. Figures.

  Chapter 7

  I walked into Beckham's gorgeous farmhouse style kitchen that had stainless steel appliances that looked like they belonged on a spaceship, Mason following behind me. I stopped abruptly however when I saw Beckham standing shirtless, in a low hanging pair of navy sweatpants, flipping pancakes over the stove. Looking at him now it was obvious he had to be supernatural. I had never seen anything so delicious in my life. Well I guess since the last time I looked at Mason or Damon I laughed to myself. Beckham was an in between of Mason and Damon, all golden skin stretched taut over perfect muscles, and I swear he had an eight pack (even though I had read that wasn't possible in one of Mrs. Anderson's Cosmopolitans I had stolen). Mason came up behind me and wiped at my mouth.

  "Just wiping away the drool," he teased me.

  I blushed, but didn't deny I had been checking out Beckham. Who wouldn't when faced with a body like that. He literally looked like he had been carved by the gods. How could I ever have thought for a moment the two of them were just normal men?

  Beckham's gold hair was tousled perfectly like he had just rolled out of bed. He still looked sleepy, and my mind began to wonder if that was what he looked like when he first woke up… Mason cleared his throat, still staring at me amused. I blushed even more if that was possible, then attempted to nonchalantly walk past Mason to pour myself a glass of orange juice from a pitcher that was sitting out on the counter. I tried to slip past Beckham, but he spun around and caged me in. I stared nervously at Mason, wondering what he thought of the situation. Mason was eyeing Beckham and I closely, but seemed to be waiting to see what Beckham was going to do.

  "Sleep well angel?" he asked me, pressing his hips slightly into me.

  His touch, combined with his hard length, felt like it was drugging me, but I stirred to attention from his use of the endearment "angel." Hadn't that been what he called me in my dream? I lost my train of thought again when he leaned his face in close to mine, our lips almost touching.

  "Are you still asleep?" he asked smiling.

  I wanted so badly to lean in the inch remaining and brush his lips with mine, but I stopped myself.

  I became very aware that Mason was still watching us. I could feel his heightened energy even standing a few feet away from him. It was hard to tell however if he was upset or not. I stepped to the side, dragging my body away from Beckham. It literally felt like torture. That connection that I had felt from the second I had laid eyes on him seemed to be growing stronger every minute. I smiled at him, feeling bad that me pulling away from him had caused his face to fall.

  "I must still be asleep," I
said apologetically. "Are you really making pancakes though or is this a dream? Because feel free to wake me up like this anytime you want." I said, clumsily trying to flirt.

  Beckham's face fell back into its easy going grin.

  "Is this how I get your attention? Just make some pancakes without a shirt?" he laughed.

  Mason spoke up from the other side of me, surprising me since I hadn't even noticed that he had moved.

  "If that's the case, I'm cooking breakfast," he said, making me giggle and gasp in a weird way. The weird sounds I was making escalated when he too whipped off the v-neck he had been wearing. He then cuddled up to my side, his naked chest pressed against me. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. I was sandwiched between two of the hottest guys in existence.

  Mason was covered in tattoos. His chest didn't have a single blank space. It was hard to tell what was what since everything overlapped. I did recognize an angel wing tattoo going up the top part of his chest, and the phrase "lust over love" written in cursive over his heart. That was an odd phrase to choose to have on your body forever. I would have to convince him to let me take a closer look at all of his tattoos. I idly wondered if he had tattoos on other parts of his body and if I would ever get the chance to see those… Mason coughed and I saw that Beckham was openly laughing at how flustered I obviously was. Mason backed away and went to the stove, taking over pancake duty just like he had threatened. I didn't think my ovaries were going to survive this trip.

  I quickly moved away to the large island and pulled out a chair, slowly sipping the juice that Beckham slid over to me, trying to calm down. I admired the muscles in Mason's back as he fiddled with the stove. I could feel Beckham's amused eyes still on me.

  "Are we leaving soon?" I asked Mason, trying to think of something to say, feeling awkward from overhearing their conversation and being surrounded by all of their sexiness.

  "Do you have practice this afternoon?" he asked.

  "We have off until tomorrow since today is the last day before classes," I replied.

  "You should stay for a few hours then," said Beckham eagerly. "We could drive up the coast," he added.

  "Could we spend some time on the beach?" I asked timidly. "Last night was my first time being on the beach."

  Beckham and Mason exchanged glances.

  "Of course," Mason answered me.

  Excited for the beach plans, I went back to ogling Beckham and Mason while they finished making breakfast. Soon Beckham handed me a plate loaded with eggs and pancakes. I eagerly dug in. I had been too nervous to eat very much so far this weekend. Mason poured me a cup of coffee. I took a sip and grimaced. Mason laughed at me.

  "I guess I got used to a certain kind of coffee I always get in the city," I replied, groaning inside at the fact that once again I was covering up my connection with Damon.

  "Have you tried this place called Leslie's?" asked Mason.

  I froze, not knowing what to say.

  "Yes," I said slowly. "That's actually one of my favorite places," I said.

  Mason stared at me with a searching look but didn't say anything more much to my relief. A cell phone on the kitchen counter started ringing, interrupting the moment. Mason picked it up and glanced at it, looking perturbed.

  "Yes?" he answered, sounding impatient. "I have plans today," he spoke to the mystery caller. "Why does it have to be done today?...Fine, I'll be there in twenty," he finished, cutting off the speaker without saying goodbye. "Fuck," he swore, tossing his phone on the counter.

  He looked at me forlornly.

  "I've got to run to a meeting with the record executives at the label before we leave this afternoon. Beckham will have to keep you occupied."

  I looked at Beckham. He was wearing a huge grin on his face like he had just found out he had won the lottery. I felt nervous all of a sudden. I was sure that Beckham's presence was the catalyst for all of the strange visions and dreams I had been having on this trip. I wasn't sure that I wanted to have more this afternoon. Beckham's face dropped when he saw the unease on my face.

  "We can go wait at the recording studio for Mason to get out of his meeting if you want," he said with a sad look.

  "No, I'm excited for our plans," I announced, trying to ease his mind.

  Mason looked between the two of us, and then shook his head before walking over to me and kissing me soundly on the lips.

  "I'll see you in a few hours," he said. "Don't have too much fun without me."

  I smiled and hugged him for a moment, feeling his smooth skin against mine, before allowing him to pull away from me to leave. I watched him walk out of the room before turning towards Beckham who had been watching the two of us avidly.

  "Where to first?" I asked with a grin.

  Chapter 8

  The rest of the morning was magical. After we put the dishes from breakfast in the sink, Beckham led me down another long hallway to a garage that had a multitude of shiny cars, trucks, motorcycle, and the like. It resembled the garage under Damon's penthouse, except I knew that all of these vehicles had to belong to Beckham. Although, come to think of it, Damon probably owned most of the vehicles in that garage as well since he hadn't let Shelton answer my question about the cars the other night.

  I was cut off from my distracted musings when Beckham clicked a key, and the most gorgeous white convertible beeped from nearby and started automatically. I decided right then and there that it was my dream car.

  Beckham laughed at me when I involuntarily squealed with delight, and did a little jump. He opened the door and waited for me to get in before walking around to the driver's side. One of the garage doors opened, and he sped out, making me look frantically for the seat belt before I flew out of the car.

  It was a gorgeous day. I was convinced that the sky was just more blue in California. There was a light breeze in the air that pulled at Beckham's hair as we drove, making it dance. He looked more like a golden prince than ever before with the strands glistening in the sunlight. That same bittersweet sense of familiarity rushed over me and I had to look away before I involuntarily started to tear up for no explainable reason.

  I watched fascinated as we drove down a highway that ran parallel to the ocean. I was in awe of it all. The smell of the sea in the breeze, the squawking of the seagulls as they dipped and dived over us, the sound of the waves crashing against the surf, it was so different than New York City, but no less magical to me. I looked over at Beckham who for some reason looked extremely masculine in that moment casually steering with one hand. He had put on a pair of aviators like the male models I had seen in magazines, except he looked a million times sexier than any of them had looked.

  I sighed and he glanced over at me, an amused look on his face.

  "Enjoying yourself angel?" he asked. Why did that endearment sound so familiar as well? It was making me feel like I was going crazy, this sense of deja-vu when I knew I had never met him before. I must have been showing my frustration on my face because he casually grabbed my hand and started rubbing his thumb over my skin in a soothing manner, not seeming to care that I hadn't answered his question. I laid my head back against my seat and stared back out at the ocean, trying to ignore the ever present tingles flowing up my body from where we touched, the same feeling I always got when I was near any of the guys.

  We drove for at least an hour, chatting back and forth about nothing in particular, when he pulled off to the side of the highway that opened up into a scenic lookout.

  "We're here!" said Beckham excitedly as he popped the trunk and hopped out of the car.

  He grabbed a basket and a blanket that I hadn't seen him put in the car, and then came around to my side and held out his hand for me to grab.

  Beckham led me down a set of steep stairs that I hadn't noticed descending from a break in the guardrail. I gripped the railing and Beckham's hand tightly, and picked
my way down the metal stairs, not looking up at the views until we had reached the bottom. When I did look, I gasped in amazement. We were standing in a gorgeous, little beach that was completely deserted. It was like Beckham had transported us to a private paradise where we were the only two people who existed.

  The water was a perfect deep blue with waves that crested softly against the gilded sand. There were white shells scattered along the shore with the occasional strands of seaweed. Beckham had set down the basket and blanket and was now watching me keenly, with that same amused smile he always seemed to be wearing.

  I couldn't help but give him a sudden, huge hug in delight. Of course a hug wasn't enough for him, he immediately used the close proximity to scoop me up in his arms and start to run towards the waves.

  "Beckham, no!" I screeched, alarmed at the fact that I was pretty sure he was about to dump me in the water.

  He was sweeter than I had given him credit for though. When we got to the water's edge he put me down, sliding me down his body slowly as he did so, staring into my eyes. His gaze was so intense, so filled with unspoken words, that I couldn't even be distracted by the touch of the icy water against my toes.

  "Angel," he whispered, reaching up to brush a strand of my hair from off my face.

  "Beckham, stop!" I squealed with laughter as he continued to chase me through the trees. He kept up his pursuit, letting me stay far enough in front for it to still be fun. I burst through a break in the trees suddenly and found myself at the edge of the lake. I stopped before I hit the water and admired the view in front of me while I waited for Beckham to catch up. It was a gorgeous day, the sky a glistening blue that reminded me of Beckham's eyes. There was a breeze floating off the lake, carrying with it the scent of fresh honeysuckles from across the way.