I cross the floor to the couch he offered and take a seat. “Thanks for helping us out. We’d been driving for hours before we pulled off for gas. Now my truck’s broke down.”
“Maybe it’s not by mistake why we’re here. . .” Tracey hints.
I scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Like, maybe we’re supposed to help them.”
“Help us how?” Brayden quickly jumps up from the cot, comes over, and squats down in front of us. “Do you know why this happened?” His sharp brown eyes widen and his breaths quicken. “Can you make it stop?”
“We don’t know why,” I cut off Tracey, giving her an eye to not tell so much. “And we don’t know if there’s a way to help. But,” I take a pause. “We’re grateful you’ve helped us.”
Brayden nods, rising. “You’re welcome.” Shrugging, he adds, “I guess I’m just glad to actually be talking to normal people for once, or just having someone to talk to. I’ll let you two rest and later tonight, we can go out so you can see what I’m talking about.”
It’s never been easy to find comfort in anyone’s home, but I sink onto the couch and want to kick off my boots. I don’t, but just lay my head back. I’m beat. Sparks, watch our backs. I’m closing my eyes for a second.
Of course, Nate. I’ll learn what I can about what happened here.
You’re the best.
I easily knock out. My Burdened has been a resting bear in hibernation since seeing Jason. He’s never quivered or cower, but it has me second guessing my strength. I’d think the opposite would happen, but we’re broken down. Worn the fuck out. I can’t physically take any more loss. He’s hungry, and I’ve never deprived him this long without his kind of food. The longer we go like this, the worse it’s going to get, and I won’t be any good up against a human, let alone the Qualms.
I wake to find Tracey playing the game system with Brayden. They sit on a cot that’s about a foot off the ground. Muffling headphones sit comfortably against their ears, and the room is securely silent. I study Brayden again, seeing nothing but a boy covering his sadness with courage.
He or Tracey has laid a blanket across me that I tug off and toss on the back of the couch. I stand to stretch and nearly hit my fist against the ceiling, and when I throw my arms out at my sides, I punch a box. It’s crowded, Brayden’s little hut, but it’s warm and cozy from the chaos that’s afoot on the other side of these walls.
“Hey.” Tracey pulls the headphones from her head as she’s standing from the cot. She crosses the floor and slips her hands across my sides. Tracey holds my gaze.
I push my hands over her hair then copy her action, resting my hold on her hips. “You’re okay?”
We could stay here with Brayden. He’s lonely without anyone to help look out for him or talk to, and we don’t have anywhere to go.
I kiss her forehead. “We’ll see, babe,” is all I can promise.
“I hope you had a comfortable sleep, Nathan. I was telling Tracey that since it’s night, after you woke up we can go outside so you can see our town. Unless you don’t want to.”
My stomach growls. “You have something to eat around here?”
Brayden’s hopeful expression dies. What he wants from me, to deliver them from whatever the hell is going on, I can’t give him. I don’t want to get the kid’s hopes up so he can be even more disappointed when he finds out the truth. “Yeah, I do.” Brayden goes to a box stacked three high in the corner. From it, he grabs a few whole grain bars and tosses me two.
“Thanks,” I say.
He and Tracey meet eyes, seeming to have some kind of communication. I look the two over, taking a bite out of the bar, ready for either of them to come out with it. When they don’t, after their eyes flick back and forth between each other and me, I blurt, “What?”
“We should go see what’s going on, Nate. I mean, the worst that could happen is they recognize you. They won’t try anything, there’s no one else they can wipe out.”
“No one else?” I ask, insulted by her carelessness. “There are plenty, Tracey. Nick, Cindy, and Curtis, who don’t need to see that black river we stepped in back home. There are plenty they can wipe out, Tracey. Plenty!” I snap but keep myself from yelling. “What’s done, between us is done. We can’t take that back. But to save the little family we have left, the last of our life, are you not willing to avoid risking losing them at all costs?”
“I am,” she says, regret staining her teary eyes. Her hands raise, palms up. “But I also see a nation at risk of being overtaken, and realize there’s something that needs to be done about it, and the only way to beat it is to first understand the enemy so we can then figure out how to take them out.”
I rub my wrist across my forehead, knowing she’s right. But maybe, I’m scared. Maybe I fear losing her, maybe I fear hurting her any more than I already have, maybe I’m hurting from feeling boxed in by the minimal options available to me. My back is against a wall, and I don’t know what to do.
It’s never easy to admit defeat, not when, for my entire life, I have had the world in the palm of my hands, and called the shots because I knew I could take on anything and win. But I’ve been losing this battle for years. And I’m damn tired of losing.
Against my better judgment, after allowing their pleading expressions to break me down, I tell them, “Let’s go.”
A Silent Heartbeat
Nathan
Two- and three-story homes along a main street, provides us shadow from the moonlight and fire burning lanterns. We creep alongside streets and back yards, easing our way through the neighborhood. Each breath of air is accompanied by dust and an odd stench of death that twitches my Burdened in his resting place, but not enough to get a reaction from him. It triggers a thought as to why he quivered away at the sight of our deceased family and why he can’t resonate in place with the man I’m trying to be today. A chill stabs down my spine and the marking on my back burns to life, stinging worse with my movement. I shouldn’t be depriving him, but knowing the more connected he and I are, the closer I could become what the Qualms and everyone else want from me. I want to be as far away from that scum as I can. Then, if I want to be strong, he has to be strong.
I throw a glance at Tracey, and I salivate, he and I knowing the maximum of strength would come from her. There’s also Brayden, but he’s a kid . . . At least with Tracey, I can make it not hurt her. My beast sends another stab down my spine, shining light on my doubtfulness, my uncertainty, how I’m willing not to go out to battle because he’s not with me. Maybe he’s right. I won’t go out because I know how weak I am right now.
Shit!
You okay? Tracey asks.
I shake my head. I’m hungry.
You had like six of those bars, Nate.
I rub the back of my neck. Not that kind of hungry.
She looks away from me, muttering, Oh.
I hate to ask.
She grabs her shoulder and tenses up. You’ve never asked . . .
I’ve never needed to. A breeze brushes past her, sending her scent crowding my nose. My beast shudders, I shudder.
Will it hurt?
A little. Maybe a little more than a little. But if you don’t want to. I’ll find another way.
She rolls her eyes. What, one of these possessed by Qualm-humans? Or Brayden? Your options are kind of limited here.
Which is the only reason I’m even asking you, Sparks. I wouldn’t. I usually couldn’t. But I’m dead out here. I show her my shaking hands.
Can you hold it together?
That’s what I’ve been trying to do.
We come upon a park, crossing over a parking lot to a line of trees. The center of the park is dipped in like a bowl, with large concrete stairs leading down to the grass. Sixteen gather in the circle, laughing and chatting. They go unaware of their surroundings.
“Every night,” Brayden starts. “All of them come here and stand around until this one guy comes to check in. They likely give him the same up
date because he just nods and leaves, but I’m never able to hear what they say.”
We watch for a while, ducked behind a long concrete bench. They do nothing but chat and laugh as humans would at a party. There’s no music, food, or beverages. They’re just mingling and conversing conservatively with each other.
“When’s the last time you saw them, Brayden,” I ask.
“I’ve not come out here lately, but every time that I have, they’ve come.”
A hint of light appears out of nowhere, as an oval of space peacefully waves like water. From it, two people step before the crowd.
Tracey anxiously squeezes my arm, and I reassure her with a pat on her shaking hand. We should make our move, Nate, she says.
I shake my head. We won’t win if we do. We have no idea how we’d defeat them. They’ve overpowered and outsmarted us too many times. Let’s be smart about this. She’s squeezing the shit out of my arm but steadies her angst.
Lunis and Laine—my father in Laine’s body—greet their constituents. A simple bow of the head seems to serve as hello. Lunis asks, “Are things comfortable, have you gotten acclimated to this environment?”
“We have,” one responds. Us positioned this far behind them I’m unable to see who. “The humans didn’t take well to our entry and we’ve had to care for them in a way that is considered inhumane to their culture. However, no one can tell the difference, which we’ve considered it as—what they would call—a win. We believe, with this development of experimentation, we can live here, either by human beings or other species for those who care to not be hosts. Once enough of us fill this world, we’ll be easier accepted.”
“We’ve considered that in our true form, we can live freely here as well since we will no longer be . . .”
“Minorities,” someone finishes for her.
“What is a way to make this quicker, easier?” My father asks.
“We obtain the possession of will that these here have an ability of free will, which we are not accustomed to. They have choices, which is what we have longed for since our creation. If we could gain that will, we can blend the world with ease. We can live among the humans. And then we can have free will. Everyone will be accepted.”
“Live among them,” Lunis scoffs. “We are aiming to live above them. You cannot believe all this work is to befriend a species who believes they’re better than any other being in the universe. They can’t even breathe without being told, they can’t live without the need or desire of someone to do it with them. They’re greedy, selfish, psychotic parasites that happened to get the better end of the stick. They,” he emphasizes, “will live among us. They’ll be food when we need it, slaves when we desire it, a filler for our new world.”
“But,” one says from the back of the crowd. “We didn’t agree to take over, we only wanted to know freedom.”
My father laughs. “As you say from the body of another. You’re a part of this now and you’ll follow guidelines accordingly.”
“What is our next requirement?” a few ask.
“Grow, expand. Get out of this town and see what the rest of the world is like. Feel free to leave these bodies and explore others. Test your limits. See what you can become. Try something other than humans. This world is your oyster. Use it as you please!”
He’s cut off by the same one who expressed their concern earlier. “It is hard work acquiring a body that will suit us, Lunis. You are asking us to enter and exit against the mind, body, and soul, which is nearly impossible every time it’s attempted. Either we die or they do.”
“Then get the tool that will make it easier. Had you acquired it when ordered, there’d be no complaints. I want the nation. We need the nation. There are billions of them and zillions of us!” he shouts. “We deserve this land too. We deserve this freedom as well. Do we not?”
They cheer in agreement.
“Then do what needs to be done.” My father and Lunis exit back through the gateway and the, now, mob race from their place, scattering in different directions to neighboring homes.
“He was lying to us,” Tracey whispers to herself.
But, I comment, “You couldn’t have possibly thought my father would ever tell the truth. The only thing he was truthful about was why he came there that night. We likely threw him off by being there, but guaranteed, no later than a second after we left, he was back, getting Lunis out.”
“How familiar are you two with them?” Brayden cuts in.
“Just a bit. This issue isn’t just happening here. It seems to be spreading, slowly.”
“Like a virus,” I add.
“Let’s head back before someone sees us,” Brayden says, rising.
***
We make it back to Brayden’s bunker, and I pull Tracey aside. “Brayden, head in. I’ll knock when we return.”
“Okay. Just keep your eyes peeled. They appear out of the darkness like some kind of ghost sometimes.”
“Thanks,” I say.
Tracey and I continue to stroll through the shadows and stumble upon an abandoned farmhouse surrounded by trees. More quaint than the bunker and a hell of a lot more spacious. I scan the area for anyone who may have already taken up home in this place, and, to my delight, it’s empty.
Tracey waves her hand in front of her face, wafting the dust we kick up. “How long has this place been vacant?” She goes to a table covered with a sheet. Tugging it off, she reveals a wood table, and then she removes the sheets from three chairs.
“It’s possible that this town has been taken over for years, Tracey. Maybe the person who’d previously lived here was in the process of selling it before things went to shit.”
“We’d nearly be able to live here if it weren’t so out in the open.” She removes the sheet from a coffee table and couch in front of it. “You feel okay?” she asks, sitting.
There’s a pinch in the back of my neck, a beg from the beast. I try to tap into her mind and body. She knows the question is coming, and she’s nervous; she’s afraid my beast may hurt her, but she feels my strain and how much I need it.
I sit beside her. “Just say no.”
“Just tell me what I should do.”
“It can be unpainful if you’re okay with . . . um . . .”
“Whatever it takes,” she cuts me off. “When you’re stronger, I’m stronger. We need to be at our best so we can stop this, or fight to the finish.”
I pull her on to my lap. “Who are you and why are you so accepting?”
She tries to hide her smile. “Honestly, making you happy makes me happy. It’s the only thing I’m somewhat in control of. I don’t know, maybe, you’ve forever been a part of me, and I totally, completely, inevitably live for you.”
“You do.” I strike forward, laying her back to the couch. Her breaths are heavy and her eyes close. I care greatly if I hurt her, and I don’t want to do this here, but the only way to make it completely painless is to sex her while I feed, which could result in my beast taking full control, and in the end, maybe, hurting her.
I play a million different scenarios in my mind, trying to determine a painless way.
“What’s taking so long,” she asks, heart pounding, breaths slow, nerves warming her body.
My beast urges me on. I breathe Tracey in, savoring the flavor of her aura. It’s not a question of which I’ll take—fear or pleasure. So, I kiss her. Staying connected with her body, I monitor it to check her comfort. The instant she’s uncomfortable, I’m backing off, no matter how close we are, I warn my beast. It sends a sting up my spine, making me aware of his disagreement.
“You’ll open up for me? Mind, body . . . soul?”
She nods and relaxation sends every ounce of her flooding into me. I inhale again, unnoticeably, preparing to let the beast take possession for this feeding. “You’re okay?” I check.
“Yes.”
“You’re ready?”
“Un-hun.”
I take on the beast, and she stares us in the eyes
. They lock gazes as if they missed the moment. We’re naked in seconds. He waits until we’ve entered her to claw our teeth in her shoulder and heave her pleasure as he tastes her blood. She moans, a groan now and then when he takes a drag, consuming helping after helping. He feeds on her pain, her sorrow, her anxiety, and her pleasure in the most filling manner. He draws on her fears and reminds her of her loss. We thrust deep inside her and force her to feel her pleasures, those sexual and joyous.
Tracey . . . She gives exactly what he wants. Not a quiver or a cringe as she leaves herself open for us to consume her. She’s paling, pleasure induced moans seizing the silence of the home, of the night. She clings onto my body, hands and feet freezing cold. She doesn’t even know she’s on the last of what’s left of her as I’m nearly overflowed.
That’s enough. We’ll kill her, I tell my beast.
He gives me control, and I fill her back up, putting the color back in her cheeks and warmth in her fingers. “You’re okay?”
She nods. Shaking in pleasure, panting, now sweating. She takes a while to gather her words, constantly licking her dried lips, and swallowing hard. “That was different . . . I feel like I can conquer the world.”
Standing, I stretch, and I’m rushed with a force of energy that strengthens my muscles and straightens my bones. A growl splits from my throat as I welcome its invigoration. I’ve never felt so robust. Even as I ball my fist, my strength bulks my arms and swells my chest.
I swipe my thumb over Tracey’s shoulder to seal her wounds and kiss the area to apologize for my selfish act.
“You look bigger,” Tracey mentions when I rise.
I pull my shoulders back as my beast recycles over me and emerges with confidence and force. “I am,” he growls.
We kneel before Tracey and take her hand in ours. Every time we touch her, I cringe at the thought of her jumping out of our reach, but every time, to my surprise, she doesn’t. For some goddamn reason, she accepts me like this. A monster. As though she were born for this reason. What’s the hardest for me to understand is, after everything, I’m her oxygen, her will, her desire, still . . .
Finite: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 4) Page 34