Plight: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 1)

by Felisha Antonette

  Nathan’s eyes open into thin slits. “Hey,” I whisper.

  “Hey.” He pushes my hair from my face, palm grazing my cheek.

  “You okay?”

  “I am now.”

  “I missed you a lot.”

  “Me too.” He takes a pause and rubs his hand over his face. “You fixed my scars?”

  “Yeah,” I say proudly.

  “Thank you.”

  “Anytime.”

  His eyes droop as he exhales. “How was your night?”

  “Terrible. But I managed, thanks to you holding me, making it easier to sleep.”

  He gives me a single up-down brow flash. “Glad I could help. You mind telling me how I did this?”

  “I’m not really sure. I just took advantage of a bad situation.”

  “Hmm. Well then, I’m glad you can take care of yourself.”

  “And you too.”

  “Yeah, and me too.” He adjusts, giving me more space to lie beside him. “Go back to sleep, Tracey. Get comfortable.”

  I place my head against his neck and tangle my legs with his, asking, “Are you going to tell me what happened tonight?”

  “Nah.” He doesn’t hesitate to reject my request.

  “Why not?”

  “Just imagine what you saw at the beach, with more people on each side and us still being outnumbered. More died, who weren’t from our side.” It’s clear he doesn’t want to discuss his venture, but I’m concerned.

  “And the scar?”

  “I got caught off-guard, and a Nemanite tried to get the best of me.”

  “Okay. . .” I push him to continue. Whatever a Nemanite is.

  He grumbles. “Tracey, what do you think happened?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” I touch his bare chest, and his muscles relax.

  He huffs. Keeping his eyes closed, he scoffs. “When helping Little Nathan, this eel cut me off and tried to slice my neck. I dodged it, and instead, he got me in the face. I got pissed, not to mention my brother still needed me, and I obliterated him.”

  “What was happening to Little Nathan?”

  He takes a deep breath and releases it, eyeing me through his lashes. “You actually want to talk about this?”

  “Obviously.”

  He huffs again, exhale brushing against my head. “He was being held down and taken by a couple of other Nemanites. They have a power where they can steal pieces of you, like a sense, a desire, or a memory. He held his ground pretty well, trying to fight them off, but they were too strong for him. I noticed this once I’d finished with the guy who had sliced open my face. Nathan called for me, and I raced to him. They took his feeling of touch and a few of his memories, Roseland and I assumed because he didn’t know how we got there or why. My grandmother restored his feeling, though.”

  “That’s her ability?”

  “She can restore what is physically taken. Now, go to sleep, Tracey,” he says, clamping his hand over my mouth.

  I giggle, pulling it down. “Fine. Thanks for coming back.”

  “Of course,” he breathes.

  tenacious

  “Tracey, you awake?” Mom knocks on my bedroom door and the doorknob rattles.

  I jolt upward, remembering I forgot to lock it.

  Nathan’s arm tightens around my waist. It’s cool. I locked it.

  I breathe, lying back down.

  Answer her. He’s as calm as can be, laying here, appearing asleep. Groggy voice, he recommends.

  Right! “Mom,” I rasp, aggravated.

  “Tracey, I’m leaving for work. Call me if you need me. I love you. And stop locking this door. What if there is a fire and you are in here sleeping? How will I get you out?”

  “You’d break down the door, Mother. Bye. Have a good day. Love you,” I sing our morning song.

  See? Simple. Go back to sleep.

  I do, and waking later, find myself one hundred percent recharged.

  Nathan’s dead to the world. I climb over him, trying not to wake him. He turns onto his back, and I halt, expecting him to awaken, but he doesn’t. Mom’s still gone and my home’s silent except for the hall clock ticking.

  After showering and putting on a yellow summer dress, I pin my hair in an updo and apply eyeliner and mascara. It brightens the brown of my eyes.

  I flick my gaze downward to something on my cheek. I lurch forward, getting as close to the mirror as I can. I aggressively scrape my hand over my face, hoping it comes off.

  Just under my right eye is One of those marks resting high on my cheekbone. It’s faint, but visible enough to drive me crazy.

  A damaged feather set on fire at its stemmed end is my marking. Or Nathan’s marking. It scares me a little. I don’t understand it. Pieces of the feather are missing along with a jagged line showing a small flame’s erupting around the feather’s edges. The flames don’t move. I touch it, finger grazing over the familiar skin. Leaning away from the mirror, I study the new addition to my face.

  “Ew . . .” I hate it. “Why does the feather have to be burning?” Why couldn’t it have just been a feather with missing pieces? It’s depressing. I hope there’s a way to make it disappear.

  I drag my feet back to my room, finding Nathan still sleeping. With an arm thrown over his eyes, he blocks the light from the sun, and the other’s resting on his stomach. I lay on the chaise, swiping his shirt from its arm, and lay it over me. His scent gives me a slight high, and I relax as I watch TV on mute and wait for him to wake up.

  Three thirty-minute shows later, he’s still asleep. I head for the kitchen. Cooking isn’t my thing unless it involves opening a wrapper or making a sandwich, so I sit at the breakfast bar and grab an apple from the fruit bowl Mom leaves on the counter.

  Tracey?

  Finally! I rush upstairs and peek into my room.

  What are you up to? he asks suspiciously.

  “Waiting for you to wake up.” I climb on the bed, straddle him, and lean over in his face. His eyes are still covered by his arm. “You’re still tired.”

  “I am. But I’m getting up now.”

  Patting his motionless body, I quip, “Umm, no you’re not.”

  “I’m going to get up. When you get off me,” he states harshly, though humor glazes his tone.

  I kiss his arm. “Well, when you say it like that.”

  I rise, and his arm shoots around me, pinning me to him. He peers at me through his lashes. “You are something beautiful to wake up to. You know?” His eyes widen as he studies me. Moving me with him, he sits up, gaze fixed on my cheek.

  I cringe. “Why is it on fire?”

  “It’s . . . Burdened.” He matches my quiet and glides his finger over it. “I don’t know why my marking has to be so intimidating. Scott gets a fucking snowflake, and I get this tethered feather that’s on fire.”

  “But everything is okay, right? I shouldn’t be worried? It’s just Burdened, like you said?”

  “Yeah, my marking’s just Burdened.” He grumbles, but then flashes that cocky smirk that makes my knees week. “We can take it away, but it’ll reappear when you get angry or excited.”

  “Sure. But not if you have to cut it off or something.”

  He chuckles and kisses where the burning feather sits on my cheek. An icy breath dances across the area. “There,” he says, pulling back. “Did it hurt?”

  I purse my lips.

  He chuckles, moving me from his lap. “Mind if I use your shower?”

  “Sure, feel free. The bathroom’s the next door on the left. I’ll get you a towel and a toothbrush.”

  “Thank you,” he says, then snags his bag and heads from my room.

  I set the things on the bathroom sink and pull the door closed on my leaving. In my room, I lean over my dresser and stare at my reflection. To my enjoyment, the feather is gone. Good job, Nathan! I cheer to myself.

  What?

  “Nothing. Mind your own business.”

  You are my business.
>
  “Just hurry.” I’m like, desperately needing you here. His voice kick-starts a yearn half of me is enthusiastic about and the other half wants me to kick myself over.

  Nathan comes out a short time later, cleaned and clothed. “You want to do something today?”

  I sit up from lying on my chaise. “Absolutely.”

  “We could go to―” Nathan’s cut off by his phone ringing. He pulls his phone from his pocket. “Yeah?” he answers, and his brows knit as he listens. Not a minute later, he’s hanging up.

  I sit forward, brows high and eyes wide. “What’s going on?”

  “Scott told Glen, she freaked, and now she’s gone.”

  Searching the room for my phone, I panic. “I need to call her!”

  Someone bangs on the front door.

  “It’s Glen.” I rush from the room, stopping in the doorway. “Um, could you, like, stay up here for a minute? She’ll freak out since you two are cousins.”

  “I guess,” Nathan drags, plopping down on the bed.

  I race downstairs to the door and swing it open to Glen standing on the porch red-eyed, red-faced, and hair needing a major blow dryer and a flat iron. “Glen, what’s wrong? Where have you been?”

  “Tracey, he hates me!” she shouts, charging past me into the house. “I know it! He came over talking about how there are things about him I didn’t know, and since I wanted to be with him, he felt we should talk.” She storms into the bathroom by our front door, taking the roll of toilet paper, and blows her nose. “What is wrong with me, huh? Why does he hate me so much?”

  “What did he tell you, and why do you think he hates you?” I’m on her heels as she charges through the house.

  “Because, Cey! He came to me about him being some bad thing.” She throws her hands up in the air, shaking her head. “He was talking about how he took away my choices, and how I didn’t have to be with him if I didn’t want to.” She stops to blow her nose again. “I don’t know, Tracey. But, I do know it was a bunch of bullshit,” she blurts, tears streaming down her face.

  “Okay, Glen, slow down. Let’s sit.” Gosh, Scott tried to tell her, and she wouldn’t even listen. As hard as it was for him to tell her, she couldn’t give him the benefit of the doubt by listening.

  She sniffs and scrapes the tissue across her eyes. “Well, don’t you have something to say?” she snaps.

  “Whoa. Can you calm down? No one is the bad guy here.”

  “He was lying, trying to find another way to push me off!” she half-yells, plopping down on the couch in our living room.

  “Okay, don’t take this the wrong way.” She pierces her eyes, and I choose my words carefully. “Scott is a nice guy. We both know that and have never had a problem with him. He’s always been wholesome and before you, I can’t say I’ve ever seen him dating. Scott loves you, Glen.” She objects, and I put my hand out to stop her. “Trust me. He has a weird way of showing it, but he does. Just for a second, think about if some stuff he said is true.” Her eyebrows crease at my insinuation, and I put on my convincing face. “Just for a moment, think about how hard it may have been for him to tell you that stuff, then think about how he would deal with it if you wouldn’t accept it or believe him.” I sit next to her, grabbing her roll of toilet paper. “What if he wasn’t trying to push you away, but instead, tell you the truth to bring you closer?” Ripping a few sheets of paper from the roll, I hand them to her. “Because by the way things look, you two don’t get along too well the majority of the time, even though you want to be with each other.”

  She takes the tissue, and her hand falls into her lap. “What are you getting at?”

  “If you care about him, maybe you should listen to what he has to say instead of blowing him off like he was pushing you away. You can’t place judgment on people just because you don’t understand them. It’s not fair. And because you love him, the least you can do is give him a chance and try to be understanding.”

  “What makes you think I love him?”

  I give her a bored glare. “Come on, Glen. What are we, acquaintances?”

  “Yes!” she bursts. “Ever since you started being with his cousin.” She pauses, twisting her lips to the side. “If Nathan came to you saying something crazy like that, would you listen?”

  I flick my gaze away from her to the window letting in the sunlight. “If Nathan told me the sky was red, I would believe him. Even when I walk outside and see it’s blue.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug. “When you love and trust someone, you love and trust them.”

  She stares for a while before she says, “Okay, maybe you’re right. You want to come back to his house with me?”

  “No. By the way, is there anything you’re forgetting to tell me about you and Scott?”

  She peeks at me from the corner of her eyes. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.”

  Don’t meddle, Tracey. Nathan creeps in.

  Not meddling is not fun.

  Don’t. Plus, I want you to finish so I can tell you the sky is red and see if you believe me.

  From the guy who just told me not to meddle.

  “Tracey, are you listening?”

  “Yes, Glen.” Stop distracting me, Nathan. “You should hear Scott out. He has things he needs to tell you, and it may be better for you to have that talk. It’ll at least make you feel better to know what’s going on.”

  “What’s going on?”

  Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “Remember I said I asked Nathan to talk to him. Well, he did, and Scott’s trying to talk to you now. Go listen,” I encourage her.

  “Gosh, Tracey. I’m just not ready to go over there yet. You made me feel bad for being a jerk. And he loves me? He hasn’t even told me he loves me.”

  Someone knocks on the door.

  Glen and I share a glance. We go to the door, and Glen pulls it open.

  Michael. Here in all his not-giving-up glory. I throw my hands in my face but manage to hold in my groan.

  “Michael?” Glen asks in a disgusted, yet surprised voice. “What are you doing here?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Hi to you too, Glen. Tracey, we need to talk.”

  “No.”

  “What?” Glen screeches. “Why are you not surprised to see him?” she asks, shocked.

  I cross my arms and explain, “He stopped by a few nights ago.”

  “Well, aren’t you full of secrets? That would’ve been some juicy information you left me out of,” Glen sasses.

  “Come on, Glen, not right now. Don’t you think we both have enough going on?”

  “Tracey, forget about that,” Michael interjects. “We need to talk.”

  “Michael, right now is not a good time.” The worst, to be exact.

  “Well, your new stud isn’t around, so it seems like a perfect time.” Little do you know. . .

  “Michael, please don’t. I’ve already told you, you need to move on. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Michael charges through the door, shoving Glen and me back as he does.

  I fall to the floor, elbows hitting the tile. “Argh.”

  Michael jabs his finger in my face. “Tracey, you are going to talk to me!”

  “Nah, she’s not.” As I’m getting up, Nathan enters the foyer. He pats my lower back once, and I nod that I’m okay.

  Michael rolls his head toward the ceiling, shouting, “Where the hell did you come from?”

  Scott’s at the opened front door, locating Glen smashed behind it. “Michael, what are you doing here?”

  The question of the week, it seems!

  Michael cuffs his hands in front of his crotch and cracks his knuckles. His discomfort is written in his cautious glare. He and Scott had been good friends before he left, but I don’t know if they still hold that tight friendship. “Wassup, Scott? I need to talk to Tracey.”

  “That’s not a good idea, Michael,” Scott warns daringly as if Michael was about to jump from a high cliff into a
lake of murky water.

  “Yo, I get she’s got this new guy now.” He turns. “But, Tracey, if I could just talk to you for a minute.”

  “Okay, talk, because I want to hear why you’re willing to risk getting your face smashed in,” Glen says. “What?” she snaps at our scowls. “I’m curious!”

  Nathan’s hands move around my waist, and I wrap my hands around the top of his. Meeting his hazel-brown eyes, I ask, You okay?

  He adjusts to grab them and exhales into my hair. I will be after I smash your ex’s face in. He’s pushing it, Tracey.

  I don’t know what his deal is.

  “Look, Michael,” Scott starts, “we clearly aren’t going anywhere, and you’re not going to get Tracey alone without my cousin being there, so you―”

  “Stop.” Michael throws up his hand, wide-eyed and brows high. “He’s your cousin?” Michael’s stunned, much like I was when I’d found out.

  “Yes, I am. You need to get outta here,” Nathan warns, tone on edge. “Like, now.”

  “Dude, are you threatening me? That would not be a good idea.”

  Nathan moves forward, and I stiffen to hold my ground, preventing him. “Michael, just say what it is you want me to hear. Like Scott said, no one is moving,” I say. The last thing I want to do today is clean blood off my floor.

  “Okay,” he shrugs. Shaking his head, he says, “Tracey, I came back here for you. Let him go and come home, be with me. We shared a lot of things together. Despite the fact that I left, there was nothing wrong with our relationship. You promised me when I came back we would get back together. Right? So drop him and come back to me. Keep your promise.”

  “Man, Michael, you’ve got the confidence of a bull!” Glen praises, clapping.

  Behind Michael, I glimpse Mom’s car pulling into the driveway.

  Oh crap! Oh crap! Oh crap! Mom is going to freak! I shuffle out of Nathan’s arms and wrack my brain, thinking of an excuse.

  I don’t have enough time to figure out a plan before she’s entering, setting her briefcase on the floor. “Tracey, what is going on? Who are these people and why are they in my house?” she questions in an even tone, demanding an answer with a fixed scowl.