by Peiri Ann
“Yeah, he got into a fight with a Mulen,” Olar speaks, while looking towards the window.
I zone him out, feeling Nathan’s breath catch, then kiss, the spot under my ear, entirely too softly. My body tingles, while my stomach flutters. I whip my head towards him too quickly, drawing attention to us from Olar, who is rambling about the fight.
Nathan stands up with his cocky smirk.
Olar turns to us. “Umm, did I miss something?” His expression turns confused as he looks back towards the window and continues explaining the fight.
Nathan moves his hand under my shirt on my hips, between my shorts, pressing me against him firmly. Interest and anticipation lures in his touch. I let out a rugged breath—his touch feeling like a high to me. I become lightheaded and lose my balance, stumbling backwards into him.
He smirks. “You okay, Tracey?”
Olar turns back to us. “Okay, I am missing something,” he says, rubbing his hair.
Olar is about Nathan’s height and built similarly, except his lower body is wider. He has a slanted face, and shaggy hair that stands up, instead of falling around his face.
He has his nose, eyebrow, and left and right side of his bottom lip pierced, and one of those earring rods that goes through two holes on both ears. He’s dressed like a skater boy, but with biker boots. His fingernails are black, and I wonder if that is on purpose or by accident.
I chuckle out loud.
“Nate! What did you do!?” Olar asks, half-serious, half-joking. Nathan starts laughing. “See, man, that shit is not cool. Excuse me, Tracey.” For what? “That shit is why I don’t mess with you.”
Nathan looks at me. “It’s disrespectful to curse in front of a lady. That’s why he excused himself. He was raised that way. They just forgot to teach him to apply his etiquette lessons.” He changes his tone, looking at Olar. “And why do you always think I did something to you? That’s just you, taking in too much silver.”
“Not funny. I know it was you. Just be lucky yo girl is standing in front of you.”
“Are you threatening me, Olar?”
He folds his arms. “As a matter of fact, Nate, I am.” He arches his left eyebrow.
I move from Nathan, walking over to the desk chair. If something is about to happen, I do not want to get caught in the crossfire.
“Okay, I’ll meet you in the yard in three hours.”
“Three hours?” he asks disorderedly.
Nathan calms. “Yep, Tracey, and I are going for a run.”
“For three hours?” Olar questions, trying to make sense of the time.
Nathan looks at me, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah, that sounds about right.” He turns back to Olar, nodding his head.
Olar shakes his head. I smile. “Where is Scott? I need to talk him into being on my side to even the score.”
“Scott’s out right now.” Nathan’s voice is even. But I can still hear the emotion behind it.
I had not thought about how he must feel about all of this. I know he has to feel worse than me, having all three of us wrecking his brain, while I only have one—Glen.
I immediately feel bad for treating him the way I did earlier. His feelings didn’t cross my mind. How selfish of a person am I?
“Damn, Scott,” Olar retorts.
I get up and walk over to Olar. I’ll join the game. “I’ll fight with you against Nathan.” I look over at Nathan. He wears the most shocked expression, but sobers when I notice.
Olar looks over at him.
Nathan shrugs his shoulders, while turning down and back up the corners of his mouth quickly. I back up to him, not knowing why.
Damn, Nathan! I turn around and punch his chest. Then my chest hurts. I reach for where I feel the pain, which happens to be the same place I punched him.
“Hurt, huh?” Nathan asks with a smart-aleck tone.
I rub my chest. It really hurts. “Yes!”
“Good! Now remember that when you two are trying to defeat me.” Yeah, maybe I won’t be helping Olar. Maybe they shouldn’t fight at all.
“That’s not fair,” Olar says through a laugh.
“Fair to me,” Nathan counters. “Come on.” He motions me towards the door.
Olar leaves first. “Where is Taylor or Nathan?”
Nathan shrugs as he closes the door behind him. “Not sure. Check downstairs. You staying over here tonight?”
“Yeah.” We walk down the hall.
“Okay, we’ll be back later. And then we’ll handle that sudden confidence you have over being about to take me on.” He punches Olar’s arm.
“We’ll see,” Olar replies, then disappears.
“Now, where did he just go?” I ask, surprised. The boy just vanished.
“His ability. Lucky bastard.”
“He can just vanish?”
“Yeah, and go somewhere else. Not like from my house to his house. It has limitations, but it comes in handy.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of cool. Looks like you have a little competition, Nate.” I hit his arm with my elbow.
Oh shit. I stop walking, realizing what I just said. I look at him, and he’s fine.
“I’m not going to go demon and push you through a wall, Tracey.” He pulls my arm to walk with him down the stairs. “Plus, what happened with them was way different.”
“Different, how?”
“Sorry, but your friend was out of line. She admired another man. Felt it and commented on it.” He shakes his head. “Scott’s not doing something right.” He pushes his hair back as he opens the door to the yard. “I can’t figure them out.”
“Don’t stress about it, babe.”
We walk in the afternoon air and there is a chill to it. I’m thankful for the hoody; it makes it comfortable.
“No, Tracey. I have to stress about it. The boy tried to kill all three of us. That’s not normal for Scott. He’s always been in control. Always understood himself. And don’t take this the wrong way, but ever since Glen came around, he’s been worse than I used to be.” We near the fence.
“And how bad was that?”
“Don’t, Tracey.”
“You know, you and Scott have made me really hate those two words.” He opens the gate. “I feel bad for Glen. She is a little reckless, yeah, but she never means any harm. Don’t get me wrong…her actions pissed me off too, but I didn’t want to kill her—just slap her.”
“Yeah, but Scott didn’t even think before he attacked. He just did it. When he gets back together, I’m going to talk to him.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“After we figured out what we were going to do about Glen. And we didn’t talk. I had to carry him into the new room they’ll be sleeping in, since theirs is now wrecked. He didn’t remember the details, just that he messed up and lost it.”
“That was their room that they wrecked?”
“Yeah. He was on his last limb, like Glen. It was weird, watching nothing being wrong with him, but the life draining from him.” He pauses. “It hurt.” His voice cracks and my brain floods with him. His hurt filling every inch of me, and I desire to do nothing more than comfort him.
He notices my notice, and clears his throat. I walk to his front and wrap his arms around me.
“You know, if I was taller than you, I would wrap my arms around you like this.”
He lets out a breath that seems like he was holding onto. “He should be better tomorrow, or maybe later tonight. He’ll go heal Glen and break her out of the hospital.”
“Why break her out?”
“How would you explain her being near death at one moment and then walking, and kissing Scott, the next?”
“You think she will still want to be with him?”
He shrugs. “It’s not like she has a choice. She loves him, she knows he loves her—and he does. She’s bound to him. If he tries to kill her a thousand times over, she’ll always stay with him and won’t stop loving him. He’ll know it happened though, and
may beat himself up for the rest of his life. But as long as he doesn’t kill her and gets his shit together, that’s their future.”
“That sounds like they are going to be around us for the rest of our lives.”
“Yep. But that’s our family. I know it seems overbearing and weird to you, but the bonding and what goes along with it is another reason why we all stick together. For us burdened.” He adds.
“Makes sense.”
We make it to the trail and I am ready for my feet to meet the gravel. I let the tree and bark scents fill my nose, taking in the outdoors.
“So, are we going to break off into a full-sprint or jog?” he asks, stepping to my side.
“We will jog. And as much as I enjoy hearing your musical voice, we’ll do it in silence, so that we can sort through our thoughts—make life make sense.”
“My musical voice?” he asks with a cocky smirk.
“Shut up.” I put the iPod on shuffle, roll my eyes, and take off, putting the buds in my ears. He’s right at my side.
We run, and I let him lead the way.
The trail is nice. It isn’t manmade like the one behind my house. Rather, Mother Nature lost control when creating it, doing what she wanted. There are beautiful flowers, in all different colors, blooming from the trees. The grass is wild and it dances in the wind. The trees sing behind my music and the wind plays the flute. It is beautiful. The sun is up, lighting every other step through the trees. I embrace the outdoors.
I take it all in and let everything go. Nathan crowds my mind. He is hurt, like me, and this whole time I only thought about myself. I didn’t consider what he might be going through and the extra pressure I was putting on him. He is good to me, he knows when I need him even when I don’t, and he makes sure I stay comfortable. He loves me and I’ve done nothing to show it back. But I do love him.
I’m still pissed that he put me to sleep, but I can’t say that I don’t understand. If his hurt back there flooded me like that, I could understand what I have been doing to him.
Damn, Scott. He did all of that warning to me, when he should have been warning Glen. If he had applied the effort that he had put into the fight into his relationship with Glen, things may have turned out differently.
Can Sephlems hold their demon tendencies in for so long that it becomes unbearable to do so? No, because they do enough fighting and killing to relieve those desires. Right?
And what did I do to that jackal to make her want to kill me? Who am I? Why would she want me dead? Hell, why do they want Nathan dead? He’s just hanging around, enjoying life. He doesn’t do anything wrong.
Or, is it not what he does, but what he has done? What was it that Olar thanked him for, and why would the mention of it cause him to tense up? Unless it is something else he is trying to keep from me. What had Nathan done that was so bad? And what else is he keeping from me, if anything?
I continue to run, not feeling tired or drained. It’s very refreshing. Nathan hasn’t said anything, which means he is either in my head or trying to figure out what is going on in his own.
We round a corner and Nathan comes to a complete halt, grabbing me. The force from the abrupt stop knocks me off my feet, but he catches me, placing me on the ground too softly, soundless.
28: Infiltrated
I look at Nathan. He places his finger over his lips. Drawing attention to those lips, they are perfect, soft, and I want to replace his finger. He cheeses behind it, and I realize he’s listening to my thoughts. I shake my head—focus, Tracey.
His expression becomes serious as he pushes me behind him. I really hate that.
Tracey, don’t talk.
What is with this ‘not talking’ thing? Okay.
And don’t help.
Yeah, right. Yeah.
Nathan tenses and his body hardens, but his skin doesn’t change color. I relate it to one of his defensive shields.
“Show yourself,” Nathan says quietly, in a deep and strong voice.
I want to see, but something tells me to stay behind him.
“Nathan, why so…defensive?” I can hear multiple footsteps—maybe four people. “You’re not alone?”
Tracey, step to the side slowly, and do not speak.
I do, but not removing my entire body from behind him. I’m uncomfortable, everything feels wrong.
Nathan doesn’t move. It is five guys. They all are standing side-by-side. There isn’t one ahead of the other, so I can’t tell who was speaking.
The guys on the end look alike and share watermarks on their skin that look like my vines. They must be twins, and they’re as tall and as big as Nathan. The inner two are of equal height and slightly thinner, each with long hair pulled into a ponytail. They resemble each other, but don’t look like twins. One of them has a dark mark over his eye and forehead, as a dog would, while the other doesn’t.
The one in the middle is the scariest. He’s the reason I stay behind Nathan. His eyes are bright-gold. His hair stands up in spikes. He is stocky, but shorter than the others, and a half-sun rests against the right side of his face. He stares at me, his golden eyes quizzically looking me over.
“Why stand behind him? Please step forward,” the twin on the right says low, too low for me to hear if I were still normal.
“She is fine,” Nathan responds bleakly. “What brings you in the area?”
“We had some business here.” The long-haired one, with no mark, answers with a smile.
“Did you handle said business?” Nathan asks strongly.
“Yes,” the twin on the other end answers.
They all speak in sequence. How do they know who is going to say what?
“Then why are you still in my area?” Nathan’s voice turns dark and I can feel the anger start to roll from him.
I don’t know if I should touch him or let him stay angry. I’m not sure of the situation we’re in. Remembering how his dad had told me I was a distraction—it took him to meet me in order for him to get soft and let his guard down—hence, him getting chained and almost dying.
I don’t touch him.
“More business!” the middle one answers. His voice is just as creepy as the sun on his face. “We hear your father is no longer around.”
“Okay.” Nathan is short.
The middle one smiles, his teeth match his eyes. They are pointed. I want to move back behind Nathan and hope they can’t smell fear.
“And I had some things I needed to discuss with him.” His eyes shift from Nathan to me, then back.
“As you have observed, he is not around. And that should be your exit.”
“Now, Nathan, is that how you treat your brother? After all we’ve been through?”
Nathan smiles a dark, demonic smile. “You’re no brother of mine, Roehl.”
Roehl places his hand against his chest. “Nate, it hurts me to hear that.”
He takes a step closer. Nathan doesn’t move. “We’ve run together as brothers, shared as brothers—” He looks at me, then shifts his golden eyes back to him. “Stood side-by-side as brothers, protected as brothers, even killed as brothers, and, not to mention, we share a father.”
Nathan’s arm flexes. “We may have, and that might be so—although, there is no proof of that. But you—” He nods his head toward Roehl. “Are not my brother.”
Roehl rubs his hand over his chin. His smile fades. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
I look at the other guys. They show no emotion. Their eyes frequently flash to me, then back to Nathan.
“So who is she?” the long-haired one with the mark asks.
“She is not your concern.”
“Protective, aren’t you?” says the twin on the right.
“That, too, is not your concern.” Nathan licks his lips and I catch a glimpse of his sharpened teeth. “Considering my father is not here, I believe that’s your exit.”
“Not anymore? Great, Nate.” Roehl starts walking forward. Nathan steps in front of me. “I have new bus
iness. You know I wouldn’t fight you, brother. There’s no need to be defensive.”
“Won’t you? Then it sounds like this business can be handled at a more appropriate time.” Nathan squares his shoulders, lifting his head back in a cocky way. “You’ve walked close enough.”
“I see you, Nate. Let me see her,” Roehl says.
“That’s not happening.” I can’t see anything. “Again, Roehl, take your exit.” Nathan’s tone is threatening.
“I can’t do that.”
“And that, I am sorry to hear.” I remain behind Nathan, watching the shadows from the other guys moving closer.
Nathan steps forward and the shadows stop. Five on one—that’s not happening. Should I move or stay here?
Stay there, Tracey. I got it.
I can’t. But talking to him is distracting him. I look around him, still not being able to see the others. I try to calm myself as I become antsy.
“Will you, Nathan—kill your own brother?”
“I will kill anything and anyone that breathes.”
“And that is the Nathan I know. Come back, Nathan. I need you by my side.” A pause. “We have killed so many together. Enjoyed our time. Enjoyed our life.”
This conversation is not going to continue. He is not going to talk him into whatever what was. The film covers my eyes, and I walk up to Nathan’s side. He doesn’t look at me, but I feel his irritation.
Roehl looks at me. “Hello.”
“Don’t speak to her,” Nathan says even-toned.
“She is a dark one, Nathan.” His voice is low. “Her eyes are black. I can see you’re coursing through her.” He moves closer to him. “Maybe I can have her too.”
And the shit hits the fan.
Nathan punches Roehl and he flies back several feet, landing on his back. I look at Nathan and he is dark-red, hard, and the back of his hair is in points. I take several steps back, not knowing if he knows me still.
The water twins run to Roehl, while the other two step up to Nathan.
Nathan shakes his head slowly and they stop. The one with the mark walks over to the other, punches him, spins him around, and grabs his hair. The one with no mark does some type of spin-maneuver, grabbing him by his neck. They begin to fight each other with the most confused expressions on their faces.