Stolen Love (YA Paranormal Novella)

by Cooper, Jodie B

  “To have you as a lifeMate is an honor,” Eric said lamely after several failed attempts to speak. His face turned a sickly green color.

  I hoped he threw up all over her.

  His words, no matter how forced, rammed through me, smashing my chest into a wasteland of despair. My eyes snapped to his and my pain doubled, knowing my lifeMate just accepted another girl instead of me.

  The sun peeked through the clouds, striking him in the face, turning his gray eyes pure black. The solid black pit of color didn't stop the silent plea he sent me.

  I shivered, desperately wanting to refuse his unspoken request.

  His honor was at stake. He knew his synth hadn't sung for her, but it didn't matter. There were witnesses; dozens of people avidly watched the daughter of High Councilman MuskLeke announce her lifeMate to the world. If Eric refused to accept her announcement, his honor - and the honor of his entire family - would be stained beyond repair.

  Sometimes, like now, I hated how honor-bound vampires had become. As impossible as it seemed, if we weren't careful, honor would soon become more important to us than our mates were.

  I cursed, intimately familiar with how deeply ingrained the concept of honor was to a Clan vampire. Our code of honor wasn't anything like a mundane's understanding of the word and certainly nothing like mundane fiction writers spouted on about.

  No, vampire honor had no rhyme or reason, but the concept was everything to the long-lived Sídhí race.

  My stomach curled into a soured knot. Briefly, I closed my eyes struggling as I used every ounce of my will power to remove the snarl from my face. I didn't know if I could manage it. Snarls of fury echoed inside my head, clawing against the social restraint that her words slapped on me.

  Technically, I accepted the fact I couldn't attack her. My heart didn't agree.

  Slowly, I opened my eyes, focusing on Clarisse as she held Eric. The sight nearly threw me over the edge of insanity.

  Clarisse touched my mate's neck with a long painted fingernail, slowly tracing the beating vein. She licked her lips and I nearly lost it. I knew her threat was twofold.

  My stomach heaved, rolling with bile.

  Biting between Clan vampires was a thing of beauty, a very sexual experience between lovers or mates.

  To the world, Clarisse appeared to be caressing him. To me, her warning smacked me in the face like a wet rag. Either I shut up or she would 'accidentally' extend her claws.

  I shuddered, this time in fear. My hands went cold and clammy. She wouldn't hesitate to do it. Her hatred of me knew no bounds. Killing Eric would be child's play.

  I knew why she hated me. Yeah, I'm sure her intense dislike of me had something to do with her being dunked in the skrivett pond on our fifth grade field trip.

  Skrivetts produced the most horrid smelling pus, expelling it from their bodies like we do sweat.

  Visiting the old Rocky Mount Zoo had been a blast. Dunking Clarisse in skrivett pus topped that by a mile. The slimy pus had coated her clothes and skin, smelling like a sewer in hundred-degree weather. The stench was harder to get rid of than skunk spray. The whole thing had been her fault. She shouldn't have picked on Samantha, one of the few fairies who lived in Clan Valley and one of my best friends.

  At the time, my month long detention had been worth every minute of her shrieking and splashing in the mucky pond of soccer-ball sized rodents, but it wasn't worth it now. If I'd known what her escalating pranks would eventually lead to, I might have shoved her into the Sasquatch pen instead. No stink, no body, end of story.

  “Good,” Clarisse said, sounding bored. She abruptly released her hold on Eric and shoved him away.

  He stumbled. Throwing out his hands to keep from falling, he caught himself against the brick wall of the theatre.

  Clarisse never turned, but called over her shoulder, “Eric, stop dawdling and come along. And another thing, I don't want you talking to that slutty Andrews girl. Also, do not ever...”

  Her shrewish voice grew distant as she swept through the double doors of the theater.

  I glimpsed Eric's frantic face through the crowd.

  My gut tightened into a rock and I swallowed another growl, knowing there was absolutely nothing I could do until his synth sang for me.

  When Clarisse publicly announced Eric as her lifeMate, she became untouchable. If I attacked her, the council would slap me in silver cuffs and throw me into a jail cell.

  A sick feeling choked me, tightening around my neck until I couldn't breathe. I dashed to the side of the building and lost everything in my stomach. Tears flooded my eyes and I dropped to my knees. This was so not the way I dreamed of finding my lifeMate.

  Murder

  An agonizing two days later, I came to a decision. Honestly, by that time I didn't care if Clan Council exiled me from Clan Valley.

  Eric was mine and I was sick to death of Clarisse touching and pawing my mate. She played a sick game and I wanted it stopped.

  I sat at an empty table, near the edge of the large school cafeteria. After I graduated last year I never dreamed I'd willingly step foot in the place.

  No such luck. For the last two days, I'd haunted every step Eric took, not talking to him, simply watching him like a stalker or something.

  It's not that I didn't want to talk to him. Two nights before, after Clarisse's little show, I went to his house. From the front gate, I could hear his mom crying and his dad shouting. When his dad opened the door and gestured for me to go in, Eric stood and said I wasn't welcome.

  I know my face must've crumpled, because I felt the first of countless tears slide down my cheek.

  My emotional reaction didn't seem to faze him; his face remained a hard, cold mask. He insisted I leave and not come back, emphatically telling me not to call or drop by. Adding at the last minute, he never wanted to see me again.

  I cried the entire night through. My twin called from Europe, where she studied ancient myths not related to the Sídhí, demanding to know what was going on. Twin bonds kept us close, sometimes too close. She'd known something was wrong, but didn't know what.

  I couldn't tell her. I couldn't tell anyone.

  I glanced around the stark white room with its brilliant florescent lighting. The cafeteria was quickly emptying. I sucked in a deep breath, steeling my nerve. It was now or never.

  I walked across the room, nodding to the few people who called out a greeting. I was an Andrews. A really powerful family when it came to politics and stuff. I had several relatives on the Common Clan Council and my great, great Uncle Warren was a member of the High Clan Council.

  People I'd never met stopped me on the street, greeting me like a long lost friend. After a while, their fake smiles got old.

  Eric must've heard the ripple of greetings scatter across the room. His back went stiff and he grabbed his tray, ready to stand.

  Before he had the chance to run from me, I dropped on the bench beside him and gripped his too fragile arm. I restrained my strength and very carefully pulled him down beside me.

  “Let go,” Eric said through clenched teeth. He stared straight ahead, refusing to look at me.

  I swallowed my hurt. “Eric, please, we've been best friends forever. Just listen to me for a second.”

  “No, it upsets my mate for you to be near me. Now,” he tried tugging his arm away from me, “let go.”

  “No, you're going to listen to me. I know that self-serving hussy cannot be your lifeMate. You can't stand her. Can't you see she's just playing with you?” I demanded. Pulling his chin around, until his angry eyes met mine, I tried to make him see reason. “You know how spiteful she is.”

  “You heard her declare us mates,” he said, glaring at me.

  I fell into his eyes, drowning in the pain I saw reflected in their depths. Eyes truly were the window to our souls. He stared straight at me, refusing to budge from his obstinate stand, but I knew it hurt him.

  “Eric, please just listen. I know you can't publicly deny
her. This is all about keeping your family's honor intact, but you know she's a hateful witch. This is a game to her.”

  “Let go,” he demanded, ignoring my words. “Or maybe you're getting a kick out of making me stay put?”

  His words cut me and I finally released his arm. Holding him captive wasn't accomplishing anything.

  He started to stomp away, but at the last minute, he turned to me. For a split instant, his eyes reflected more than simple pain. Agony flashed through the gray depths; his eyes misted with unshed tears. “If I live to be five-thousand years old, I'll never forget you, Trina,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  He looked torn as if he wanted to say something more, but wasn't sure if he should or not. His spine straightened and he held my gaze for what seemed like an eternity. When he spoke, it was so whisper-soft I had to strain to hear him. “I've been crazy about you since the moment you first bounced into the house announcing I was going to be your new best friend just because I lived next door.”

  I blinked, floored by his admission. Crazy for me? Did he mean crazy as in he really liked me? Or did he mean love like I was crazy in love with him?

  Before my mushed brain had a chance to react, he walked away from me leaving me in stunned silence.

  His words struck me, hitting as hard as the synth music had. I wound my arm around my stomach and weaved in place. I hurt. Oh God, I'd never experienced such pain as when he turned from me, looking hollow and lost. His somber eyes tore at me. It was as if he tried memorizing my face, because he would never see me again.

  I rushed from the cafeteria inhaling the brisk mountain air, trying to clear my brain. I made my way toward a bench hidden between a pair of evergreens. Tears silently slid down my face. I didn't know if they were tears of despair or fury, but I was shaking so hard I felt ready to explode. I think they must've been tears of fury.

  I wanted to kill something and its name was Clarisse.

  I sat on that hard bench, shivering in the chilled wind for nearly two hours. During that time, I made my decision. My choice burned into my brain, driving me toward immediate action, but I wasn't stupid. I'd need help.

  Getting near Clarisse would be difficult; when her adoring flock didn't surround her, she was unreachable behind the formidable security of her father's huge estate.

  Yeah, I needed help to kill her. I considered everyone I knew and finally settled on one of two cousins. Jared or Nick, either one would do anything for family. I simply hoped I could gain their help without telling anyone that Eric was my lifeMate. I wasn't too sure how to manage that detail.

  I rubbed my neck, trying to ease the tense muscles. I needed to make a foolproof plan, not jump out of the pan into the fire. What I wanted to do and what I could do were complete opposites, because I'd love to walk up to her and chop off her head.

  I took a moment, dreaming about her head bouncing against the pavement.

  I sighed, knowing I couldn't kill her in public. If I killed her in front of witnesses, I'd have to leave Clan Valley, which meant leaving Eric. That would totally defeat the entire purpose.

  Oh, she was going to die, but the details wouldn't be easy.

  Hunting down one of my cousins would be the easy part, figuring out how to kill someone who was constantly in the limelight bordered on impossible.

  Okay, nitwit, so start with the easy part first.

  Getting up, I headed toward the big three-story building on the eastern edge of the campus. I'd eventually find Nick or Jared, but juniors and seniors had gym class during the last two periods so searching the athletic complex first was my best bet.

  Movement caught my eye. To the right of the evergreens, beyond a stone totem depicting several of the oldest vampire families, a tall young man with midnight hair waved at me.

  Well, would wonders never cease?

  Jared greeted me with a quick hug and stepped back. “Hey, cuz, why the tears?” He asked, giving me a lopsided grin that sent most girls into a fit of giggles and a hot flush.

  I touched my face, shocked when it came back wet. I hadn't even realized I was crying. I was so messed up.

  I stared up at my younger cousin, all six feet of gorgeous male vampire and said the first thing that popped into my head. “I'm going to kill Clarisse. You want to help?”

  He chuckled, but his blue eyes reflected his unease. He knew I never made idle threats. Then again, the growl rumbling from my chest might have tipped him off.

  “Let's go somewhere a little more private.”

  “Let's not,” I said, angry at myself for not stopping Clarisse sooner. That witch had messed with my mate's mind. I was going to rip her head off and play with it. Forget keeping it out of the public eye. I might even post the actual event on V-tube, the vampire equivalent of the mundane U-tube, and see if it went viral.

  Jared was either with me or not. If he wasn't with me then he was against me and he'd better stay out of my way. I was in no mood for calm words and sweet talk. Two things he excelled at.

  I should have known him better. He didn't give me a choice. A young vampire, taken unaware, can be forced into teleporting.

  He tightened his grip on my arm and mentally smacked my brain, stunning me just enough I lowered my shields. My body automatically ported when he did, following his mental guidance.

  Dust motes danced in the air of the old shed we materialized inside of. Rakes and power tools hung on the wall to my right. A riding lawn mower and small tiller sat under a small window in the rear of the building.

  I stumbled and he held my arm until I got my feet under me.

  “That was a dirty trick,” I said snappishly, silently fuming as he kept a gentle, yet firm grip on my arm. There were certain times a vampire couldn't port: before puberty, with silver on, and when a stronger vampire mentally mind-locked them.

  He was younger, but stronger. The mind-lock he held me with bound me tight, refusing to let me port. It wasn't painful. It just felt like I had cotton stuffed behind my eyeballs.

  “I'm sorry,” he said, sincerity coated his voice. Sincerity and pity. “You can't attack Clarisse. I've heard what she did. Everyone is furious that she broke tradition and told Eric that they are mates before his synth sang for her. Don't you think I know how close the two of you have always been?”

  "You don't get it. That has nothing to do with it. She made it all up," I said heatedly, growing angrier with each of his calmly spoken words.

  “I've never seen you so angry." He shook me, not hard but enough to emphasize his point. "If you'll just calm down, you'll realize that if you hurt her, you hurt him.”

  “She's not his mate,” I said, anger boiled through my veins, growing faster with each beat of my heart.

  Jared sighed, rubbing his free hand through his thick black hair. “I know you don't like her.”

  “That has nothing to do with it,” I snapped, punching him in the arm.

  He grunted. “Then what? Let me guess, you – an eighteen year old – managed to read her mind and you know she's lying. Or better yet, you heard her tell...”

  “He's mine! My synth sang for him two days ago,” I said angrily, tired of his smart aleck remarks. I shuddered with barely contained fury, precisely saying the last three words in a frigidly violent voice. “He. Is. Mine.”

  “Oh, crap,” Jared said, hissing the words through clenched teeth. “Hell's Bells, Katrina, I can't believe you haven't killed her.”

  “If some moron would let me go, I'll do just that,” I said under a snarl of exasperation, experimentally tugging my arm against his tight hold.

  “Calm down a minute and let me think.”

  I waited, not because I wanted to. He was stronger than I was.

  After a minute or so, he slowly grinned, a devious light flashed through his deep blue eyes. “I have a better plan, one where you won't get banished for killing the daughter of a high councilman.”

  Cabin on the Lake

  Hours later, I stood at the kitchen counter in a sprawling '
cabin' deep in the Rockies.

  In the same way Sídhí valleys mimicked Earth's terrain, we used the same names mundanes gave their towns, mountains, or whatever. Sídhí frequently traveled between valleys and earth so having the same name made things easier.

  I didn't take the time to explore the cabin. My family came here every chance we got, so I already knew the luxurious summer cabin had seven large bedrooms and was one of several dozen structures scattered around a private lake that Uncle Warren owned. Keeping the family's fun time hidden from the media was one of his personal pet projects. His distrust of reporters was legendary.

  I pushed the hot pizza boxes into the fridge then bit my lip, wondering if I should wait before refrigerating them. Eric would be hungry, but I didn't think he'd be in any mood to share a pizza or two with me.

  Voices, coming from the front of the house, made my decision.

  “I can't believe you tried to convince me this was a fishing trip. It's freezing outside.”

  I heard Jared laugh over Eric's comment.

  “Well, I had to think up something to get you up here.” Jared sighed, before adding, “So much for trying for a surprise party.”

  “Yeah, well thanks for throwing me a party,” Eric said. His words sounded appreciative while holding a depth of inevitable sadness, or maybe the 'inevitable sadness' was my wishful imagination kicking into overdrive.

  “No problem, finding your mate is cause for celebration,” Jared said cheerfully.

  I turned the corner just as my cousin finished speaking. Jared's eyes lit up and he winked at me. “Have fun.” He disappeared, leaving Eric and me completely alone.

  “Hey! Jared?” Eric called uncertainly. “Jared, that's not funny.”

  “No, it wasn't,” I agreed, fuming at Jared. How could he just dump Eric without waiting until I spoke?

  At the sound of my voice Eric jerked around, his soft gray eyes growing huge. His face looked shocked, but I heard his heart race as he looked at me. His eyes sparkled, containing a smile that kept trying to burst from their sockets. His reaction was better than I'd hoped for so I tentatively notched his dropped mouth as a good sign.