“We need to find her before she makes it out of here. Who knows what the bitch is capable of,” Michael spits, retreating for the stairs. He’s trying to keep his cool, too afraid to run and too afraid to stay put.
I hoped he’d run.
I draw back and ram my fist in his face. He drops on contact and morphs into his true form, looking like a goddamn armadillo. “I really fucking hate you. And I’m going to enjoy the shit out of this.” I prowl toward my prey and let him put up a fight. I even give him hope by allowing him to get in a couple of jabs. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. He knows he lost, even as he regains his balance, blood smearing his teeth, raised fist too tired to throw another punch. He starts forward. I snatch him up by his neck and inhale his hope and then his fear.
My beast demands to be fed, and I allow it to take over. It’s slow, drawing Michael toward our frame, driving our nails into his solid flesh and feeding on his pain. Our lips part and from me growls, “What’s your greatest desire?”
“You’re wrong, Nate, you promised. She was mine. You swore I could have her.”
“The girl?” growls from me with a hint of amusement in an immoral tone. “Out of all the things? Fine.” We’re easily accepting. “Want her more than you want to live?” And his desire spills off him into us. My jaw drops and my teeth dig into his flesh, but not without difficulty. We draw the remaining soul from his body, leaving an empty corpse beneath us.
I preferred to smash his head in and burn him and this place down, but my beast has other plans. He not only wants Michael’s soul, but his heart too. Still set it on fire, but my pleasure first, the thought works through my mind, coming from my Burdened.
Fine, I comply.
We dive forward, clawing Michael’s heart from his body. Bringing it to my lips, my beast savors it. When finished, he releases control for me to take over.
I look myself over, pleased I’m still clean.
A thought crosses my mind, Tracey. She’s what kept this meal tamed. The respect my beast has for her is astonishing. I’ve thought there was only darkness, but she’s his anchor too.
Snatching a lighter from my pocket and grabbing a keg of gasoline from a corner, I drench the floor and walls, and then set it ablaze.
It’s beyond satisfying as I admire my work.
On a lift that looks over me, Lunis is leaning against the rail. Over the snapping and crackling of his warehouse, he says, “It will only be a matter of time before you return.”
I flick him off and leave from the side door.
The Only Exception
Nathan
Tracey traveled on foot, over fifty miles from her home, to find me in that warehouse. We walk all the way back and my mind’s muddled with clashing memories and losses. We stand before a two-story house big enough for us and a second family. Vaguely, I recognize it, but not enough to know when I enter I’ll feel at home as Tracey insists I’ll experience. She does a lot of this, insisting. While I agreed that Lunis and his goons will probably know to return to my one-bedroom apartment, I originally was against coming back here with her. But after more insisting and Tracey’s persistence, I opted to come to her spot. I may be uncomfortable, but at least she’s stopped begging me.
Tracey pushes the front door open, and I step in behind her. It’s quiet. A mixture of baked pie and fabric softener makes it smell homey. It partially welcomes me, while on the other hand I’m entering the home of a stranger. I battle with the double feelings but allow it to settle uncomfortably as I follow Tracey up the stairs, and to a master bedroom.
“How do you feel?” she asks.
My gaze sweeps over the king-sized bed, the large window behind it, and then her. “Like I don’t belong here.”
She rubs her hands together, shyly looking upon me as if I’m going to disappear right before her eyes. “Are you at least comfortable?”
I shrug. “I’m fine.” Her expression falls mournful, and a sorrow steals her beautiful brown eyes. “Come here, Tracey. You look like you could use a hug.” She enters my open arms and rests her head on my chest. I rub along her back. “Tonight was pretty crazy, huh? I had to murder that jerk, Michael. After seeing what he did to you, he rubbed me the wrong way. I’m not one hundred percent certain, but there’s a faint memory involving him in my past that doesn’t sit well with me. He deserved it.”
She sighs hard. “He caused a lot of issues. You’re right. He did deserve it.” She bites back the squeak that would’ve been present in her voice. Leaning away from me, her gaze fixes on my chest. She stares at me pensively, eyebrows drawing tightly together and a frown drooping her cheeks.
“What?” I ask.
“You still don’t have a heartbeat?”
I focus on me and push my hand across my chest. Slowly, I shrug and say, “I’ve not had one as long as I can remember. I was hexed and—”
She raises her hand, and I quiet. “What do you remember?”
Turning down the corners of my mouth, I say, “I don’t know, Tracey. We’ve been friends for half a year. I have a family. I think, maybe, that you think we’re mated. But, I’m doubtful because I’d have your heart filling my chest if we were, and I don’t.”
Tracey turns a shade redder than an apple and leaves for the bathroom. I follow after her, but retract when the bedroom door opens. My sister, Taylor, rushes in. My brother, Little Nathan, comes in after her, along with my cousins Carmen, Cart, and Court. I hug each of them and then follow my sister downstairs.
“I’d like to say that I had missed all of you, but I can’t because I’m just now remembering you all even exist.” They laugh, but each of them stares at me as if I’m performing a magic trick before their eyes. “Don’t make me feel weird, guys.”
Carmen scoffs. “Don’t make you feel weird? You do know you were dead for years and suddenly appeared without a single memory of us, and now you’re back acting as if it’s been us who were gone and not you?”
I chuckle, scraping the back of my hand against my chin. “You have a point.”
Taylor brings to me a hardy sandwich on a napkin. “You’re slimming up there. Eat up. I can make another if you’re still hungry.”
I take a large bite. “Thanks. So, we’re going to stand around the kitchen or sit down somewhere?”
Surrounded by everyone feels natural. But I take notice of Tracey missing. I give her space. Maybe doing so will allow her to accept that the past me she hoped to receive is different from the man standing before her today.
We go to the living room. I remember this house a little, more of a fading afterthought than a direct memory. I can better recall a home I shared with my mother, but a stronger memory of an event reminds me she has passed and our home died in a fire.
For now, I ignore the oncoming discontent with the recall and allow myself to be comforted by the familiar faces smiling at me.
Beside my cousin Olar sits a woman I recognize from a more recent event. I can’t quite place my finger on it though. She avoids my gaze when I look at her, turning her head to limit my view.
Carmen pulls out a board game, and I sit with them on the floor, playing rounds.
I can’t take my eyes off the girl next to Olar. “I’ve seen you before,” I say to her. I think hard on her name.
“It’s Lana,” Olar says. “She’s been my mate for a long time now.”
Nodding, I realize that. “But I recognize you from more recently. I just can’t put my finger on it. You were around me just recently.”
Lana shakes her head and is quick to reassure, “I doubt it, Nathan.” She pronounces my full name cautiously. “You’re probably remembering me from when you forgot us and had stopped by with Tracey that time.”
“Hmm . . .” I look away from her. “Maybe.” I discard it and take my turn, rolling the dice. I don’t know what’s what at this point, and need to really get my thoughts together.
The time I share with my family is refreshing. For a while, I was convinced I was alone, and t
hough those memories were fabricated, they felt real. But, whatever Tracey did, I remember these people as though they were never forgotten, except the more recent events they bring up, and this Lana chick. After another game and a movie, I head to the room I’ve been told I share with Tracey. She’s beneath the blankets and tucked in between a couple of pillows.
I snag a pillow she’s not using and a blanket from the bed that won’t affect her warmth and make a pallet on the floor.
Nate?
“What?” I answer allowed, alerted, hearing Olar in my mind. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a voice in my head other than my own or my beast’s.
“Let’s go out for a bit. I need to talk to you.”
Sleep was on the top of my list of things to do. But, I rise from the floor and head for the door. Meeting Olar on its other side, I say, “Sure.”
On a nearby mountain, one we’ve often visited when we needed a break from the rest of the world, Olar and I sit on a cliff overlooking the land lit by the city lights.
Olar throws a pillow-soft punch against my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Nah. Nowhere near.”
He cracks open a beer bottle and hands me one. “Time will give you a break, eventually.”
I drink the entire bottle and grab another he passes me. “Shit. I doubt it. I’m supposed to be mated but can’t even feel it. And I don’t want to lose Tracey because I can’t love her the way she wants me to. But, I don’t want to be around her and be victimized by that hopeful way she looks at me as if she’s craving for everything to just magically come back and I remember her the way she remembers me. I don’t remember anything beyond meeting her at the mall and enjoying her company. But she has mounds of memories, years worth of happy thoughts and thoughtful moments.”
Olar shakes his head, looking out before us. “Tracey doesn’t care about that. Of course, she wants to bond with you as her mate, but Tracey will accept you as just her friend or whatever you two are to each other now.”
I shrug and take another swig from my bottle. “What’s been going on around here? The last thing I remember before I met Tracey was shit being so bad I was willing to leave all of you to make sure everyone remained safe. Now I’m back, and though I don’t sense the same threat, I also don’t feel like I belong.”
“What can I do to help?”
Dragging my hand down my face, I drone, “I have no idea.”
Olar grumbles and buries his hands in his dark hair. “It’s never going to be the right time to tell you this, but it’s been eating me up since your death gathering. It’s my fault that they caught you up. I got taken over by a Faylaman. They have been working with the Qualms, these nasty-looking fuckers, and snagged me. I haven’t been able to live with myself knowing I got you, uh, killed.”
I clink my beer bottle against his. “It’s water under the bridge. Let’s just focus on finding our today and forget about yesterday.”
He stretches his arms behind him. “Fine by me. But I needed to officially apologize.”
“Whatever happened to that eel that was always around?”
“Oh, he’s still around. He went away for a few days to catch up with some of his eel pals. He’ll be back in a day or two. Seriously, I never thought I’d say this, but Laine’s not too bad for an eel. He still gets on my nerves, but he’s not too bad.”
“Humph. I don’t know, bro. I ran into some of them just recently and they’re still, ‘Burdeneds are the scum of the earth.’ I doubt he’s any different.” A pinch of sunlight peeks through the night in the distance. “We better get back. I don’t want Tracey to think I skipped town on her.”
Olar looks away from me. “Try for her, Nate. She’s been through so much. You may not share the same feelings or remember exactly how she wants things to be. . . But just try.”
Before I jump down from the cliff, I say, “I have been trying.”
Blurry
Nathan
I stretch and my arm bumps into a body. Yawning, I look to my right and on the floor, Tracey’s tucked beneath me. She sleeps as peacefully as a kitten.
A jubilant smile breaks past my frown as I observe her. Can I look on her as my best friend when she’s supposed to be my mate and me not wanting a mate but wanting the quality of a friend?
She’s beautiful, and though I don’t see her as the girl who holds my heart, there are some things I can’t ignore. I love it when she laughs; it makes me sore that I can’t get her to do so more often. I love it how she pinches her nose when she’s thinking on something obscure and her kitten snores are fucking adorable. There are some things I don’t want to live without.
I kiss her forehead and lay back beside her, waiting for her to wake up. As I lay, I try to remember moments she and I may have shared, but I come up blank. I can only look upon her as my mate because I’m told so, and not because I feel it. I want to feel it. I need to feel it so I can believe it and force a beat in my chest. At least if I do, then she can really be happy around me and finally feel comfortable. But that wouldn’t be real. And what I’ve always wanted, if I were to love someone, is authenticity.
I need for my feelings toward someone to be organic and me not be told and forced in love. She seems fine with that. She seems okay with being told I was her mate and she was bound—bound of all things—to me forever. I stole every inch of her, and even after she was told I died and she had the opportunity to get her freedom back . . . This crazy girl still chased after me. Who does that? I should be her enemy. But here she is, loving me beyond my understanding.
Tracey wakes, jumping up and away from me. “Sorry,” she says. “I intended to wake up before you and climb back in bed.”
I pull her back and hug her to me. “It’s fine. You can lie beside me anytime.”
She chuckles and shuffles out of my tightening hold.
“You want to go to the botanical garden on the other side of town?” She loves flowers, and we have a lot to talk about. I’ve learned, whenever you need to talk about some intense shit, do it in a place the other person is comfortable, it makes it a lot easier.
“Yeah, sure.” She leaves to go to the bathroom as she’s done every time we’ve been alone since yesterday. I follow her but get the door closed in my face. “I just need a minute, Nate. I’ll be out in a second.”
The doorknob is ice cold, yet the room is warm. “Are you crying?” I push the door open and find her sitting, clothed, in the tub. Instead of going to her, I lean against the counter. “You going to talk to me?”
Tracey pushes her hands over her head and sighs, “Of course, Nate.”
I stuff my hands in the pockets of my shorts. “So, what is wrong?”
“Everything,” she says under her breath, intended for me not to hear, so I ignore it. “What time do you want to leave for the garden? I’d love to do that,” she exclaims cheerfully. The most perfect of plastered smiles lifts her cheeks and brightens her eyes.
“Do you usually shower with your clothes on?”
“Depends on what kind of shower I’m taking,” she chaffs. “But, no, it doesn’t happen often.” She gets out of the tub and sits at its side.
I cross the floor. “Is this seat taken?” She rolls her eyes. Instead of sitting beside her, I kneel in front of her. “Does my being around make you upset? I don’t have to be here if you preferred it that way.”
An insulted leer stabs through my eyes when our gazes meet. “Why would you say that?” she asks with an edge of misapprehension or anger. I don’t want to say that it’s anger, but her gaze says otherwise.
Shrugging, I let my gaze fall away from her. “I mean, every time we’re alone with each other, you’re leaving. When I look at you, you’re looking away from me as if my appearance or presence annoys you. I don’t know, Tracey. We’re different around each other and it’s making me uncomfortable.”
She tries to speak, but I cut her off. “I get that you only see me as your mate, but for months, you’ve been looking at me as your
friend. Can’t you see me that way now, too?”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or feel like I don’t want to be around you because I do. I really, really do. It’s just hard. I’m trying to accept that the man I’d given up everything for, including my freedom, isn’t here anymore, even though he’s technically here. And it’s not like I’m trading out for someone who’s not equally great, because you are. If I had to trade my mate for any other personality, it’d be yours.
“But can you understand that every time I look at you, I see a man who I laid down my life for, a man who I shared my body with, a man who stole my heart before I even knew his name? Can you get that though I want to keep you around, I also want my mate back because my body aches for him, and a brief contact relieves that pain? And then, you look at me, and in your eyes, I see I’m a different woman to you, that the same deep brown eyes hold a different expression in them than the one I seek when I look in them.
“I want those forest green eyes to gaze upon me, and I wonder what in me he sees that gives him such gratification. Or those green-brown eyes that send butterflies bursting through my stomach and flutter under my flesh.”
“Okay. Then let’s not make eye contact. Every time I wanna look at you, I’m going to look at the space between your eyebrows. That way, I can’t hurt you anymore.” I poke her foreheard.
Tracey laughs. “I’m so close and so far at the same time. But, I want you around as much as I want him around.”
“I understand that battle. But don’t punish me for something I can’t give you if you want me to stay. I want to be around you. I love you, Tracey, and your company is unbeatable. But if we must be friends from a distance, though I don’t want that, I’d give that to you because it’s better for you.”
She meets my eyes and says, “If I could have one look, I’ll look for as long as I am allowed.”
My brows knit, and I look away. I used to think that way about everything, but I learned that not everything needs to be tested. Some things are preferable to walk away from. “That sounds vaguely familiar.”
Finite: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 4) Page 22