“No, Sparks!” he shouts. “You wanted to know! You wanted to hear.” He hesitates for a moment, willing the words from his lips. “You kissed him. Like you kiss me, you wrapped into him. The pleasure . . .” He forces the word out as if it takes all of him. “The pleasure distracted him and, again, I yanked you away. Dropped you so you wouldn’t fight me. I practically ripped his fucking head off. When I threw him, he vanished.”
I’m stone and silent.
Nathan continues, “I erased it while you slept and put you back in bed. Now come on, let’s keep walking.”
No way. I did not kiss that man. I wouldn’t.
The thunder booms closer, reverting my attention to the oncoming storm. The clouds have swept over the deep blue sky, making the moon no longer visible. Nathan’s words grind at my mind like an annoying song. Kissing Roehl. . ? “Nate,” I choke up. “If you would’ve told me. I don’t know. I wouldn’t have—”
He shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Sparks. I’m dealing with this shit. Sorry you’re getting the sour end of it all, but it’s not easy for me. Come here so we can beat the rain.”
I stare at him standing with his arms out to welcome me into them. I cross the ground, hoping we can get this figured out before it’s too late.
even odds
We hear the shouting before we make it into the house. Nathan pulls open his front door. Everyone’s yelling at the top of their lungs, spewing anger with every syllable they spit. It’s impossible to tell who the victim is.
Nicholas meets us in the doorway. “What happened?” Nathan asks, touching his head.
Unconcerned about our urgency for his response, Nicholas shoves Nathan’s hand away and goes back to his handheld video game. “Glen is gone. She left with some man.”
“What?” I burst.
“Wait, Nick.” Nathan stops him from walking away. “What happened? How?”
Nicholas throws his thumb over his shoulder, pointing toward the shouting crowd in the living room. “That’s what they’re trying to figure out.”
“Okay. Go to your room. We’ll figure it out.” Nathan and I approach the angry mob. “What the hell is going on?” Though calm, his voice booms over theirs.
Scott shakes, shifting between his Burdened and normal. “She’s gone! They took her, and we need to leave right now to get her back!”
“Who took her?”
“Monahan! He came for Taylor. Glen lost it, as she always does. Taylor did nothing!” he fires off. “I wasn’t around. There was yelling, and when I came back, she was gone. Gone!” he shouts. “Right out that door you just came in.” Scott stops shaking and morphs red. “You should’ve gone, Taylor!” he growls, visually holding himself back from attacking her.
“That’s not fair, Scott. When they come for Tracey, you don’t tell her to just go!” Justin defends, matching Scott’s anger.
“Tracey doesn’t just let them take her either. She looks out for everyone around her. All of this is her.” Scott points at Taylor. “She needs to go.”
Just steps in front of Taylor. “She doesn’t need to go anywhere. You know that.”
“Who was around when Glen was taken?” Nathan asks, talking over Scott. He and Justin go back and forth, ignoring everything but their opinion of who should take the blame. Nathan turns his attention to Taylor.
She flicks up her green eyes from her downcast gaze, a cold shame glimmers in her stare. “I was, and Justin,” Taylor answers shyly, guarded by her mate.
“So, how was Glen taken?” No one answers. The hall’s silent until Nathan says, “Call Mom, Taylor.”
“No!” she shouts. They bicker like young siblings, fighting over who’s going to tell on who.
I rub Scott’s diamond hard shoulder. “We’ll get her back.”
“I want to kill that girl, Tracey.” He balls and un-balls his fist as his body shakes, controlling his change.
“Just calm down, we’re going to figure this out.”
“What is going on in here?” Natalia yells over her children. Mrs. Waturstrom comes in a few steps short of her.
“Glen was taken. And your family did nothing,” Nathan scoffs, antagonism lacing his tone.
“What do you mean Glen was taken? How could that happen with a house full of Burdened Sephlems?”
“Exactly,” Nathan chaffs, throwing his hands out at his sides.
“Where were you?” Natalia asks him.
“Talking to Sparks.”
“Did you tell her?” she questions, looking from him to me and back.
Nathan nods.
Oh my gosh! About last night? Roehl? My face flushes, going warm with embarrassment. I can’t believe he would share that!
“Tracey, I’m sorry,” she tells me with a pity in her eyes I resent.
I shamefully look away from her, overcome by humility. Unwanted tears cloud my eyes. I move behind Nathan, placing my face to his back, and I quietly let them fall. Nathan brings his hand behind his back, and I take hold of it. His thumb soothingly rubs across mine as he eases my depression. I don’t understand what’s happening and why I am doing these things. Kissing Roehl. . . It makes me sick to my stomach. And worse, more than just Nathan and I know about this.
Nathan’s back flexes against my head as he says, “Go ahead, Taylor, tell Mom what happened.”
“I was witness to Glen being taken,” Taylor admits. “The one who took her did come for me. I’m not sure how he got in the house, but when he entered the living room, Glen asked who he was. Immediately, his focus went to her. He was fast. Too fast. There was no time, just screams, and she was gone.”
“How do you know it was Monahan, Scott?” Nathan asks.
“Tell him, Taylor. How do I know?”
There’s shuffling before Justin says, “He stopped long enough for us to see him.”
“Stop!” Natalia shouts. Everyone shouts over a crash that sounds as if people went tumbling to the floor.
Nathan attempts to move, but stops, backing back to me. Letting him go, I turn away to wipe my face before facing the tussle.
Scott tosses Justin aside, trying to make it to Taylor. With the help of Nathan holding him back and Natalia being a guard for Taylor, he can’t make it to her. Olar keeps Justin held back, whose hair has grown longer, and skin has gone pale. They shout and yell for each other to calm down and shuffle while getting Scott and Justin under control.
Mrs. Waturstrom takes my side and hands me a handkerchief. I appreciate her silence and the small notion of sympathy―her wrapping her arm around mine. But I’d prefer she didn’t. At least it would make me think she didn’t know about my problems too.
“Move, Nathan!” Scott growls.
“Scott, you need to calm down,” Natalia bemoans in a motherly tone.
Scott shoves his hands over his head, breaking the elastic holding up his ponytail. “Aunt Nati, she let him take her! We’re all standing around here talking while. . .”
His words fall flat as his face contorts, and eyes gloss over. They swirl black, and a pool of tears crowd them. Then they fall. Large drops of tears, one from each eye, splash against his cheeks and roll to his chin. “W-we,” he stutters. “We. . . We’re too late.” His voice cracks as he tries to force out each word. He crumples, but Nathan catches him before he can smack the floor.
What was that? Glen can’t be dead because he’s alive. She can’t be hurt because he doesn’t show any pain other than distress.
Nathan moves Scott to sit against the wall. Once he gets Scott settled, he glances at his sister, scoffing. “You never cease to amaze me, Taylor.”
Natalia moves from Taylor, allowing Justin to take his spot at her side. He rubs her shoulders, comforting, “Baby, don’t stress about it.”
“Don’t stress about it?” Mrs. Waturstrom states with a heavy edge of revulsion. “Did you tell her not to worry about this?” She stands in the middle of everyone. At my height and age peeking out behind her tired eyes, it seems that this situat
ion has worn on her in this split fifteen minutes. She’s never looked so old. “Do none of you see the seriousness in this? Not once now, but twice, Taylor has let this family down. Twice, she has brought danger upon two of our new additions.”
Scott falls over, and Olar props him up so he can lean against his leg and not hit the floor. Though Scott’s eyes are unfocused, he seems aware of his surroundings, or maybe Glen’s. But he’s not the least bit in charge of his movement; completely incoherent.
“We need to find Glen,” Nathan tells me. “We’ll have to talk about Taylor later. I’d suggest Tracey stay here, but knowing she’s in more danger in our home than she is out there with me, she’s joining us.”
Olar lifts Scott from the floor and relays we’re leaving to find Glen. Scott nods, seeming not to care one way or another. “Scott,” Olar calls loudly. “You need to focus so we can find Glen. Where is she?”
Scott holds a vacant stare.
“Scott.” Olar slaps his cheek. “Where is she?” he asks louder.
“Far . . .” is all Scott says. It takes him a minute. “I can’t think,” Scott utters.
“Scott, take three minutes to pull yourself together. If you still want to save Glen, we need to go now,” Nathan tells him. “We’ve already lost too much time. You know if we wait any longer she’ll really be too far gone, and we’ll have to work even harder to get her back.” He doesn’t wait for Scott to respond, as he pulls me with him to the kitchen.
I stand by the table, watching Nathan grab a couple bottles of water from the fridge. “Okay, Nate. Can you sum up what just happened in these three minutes? And I know things aren’t right with us right now, but can you hold me while you do?”
His dimple dents his cheek as he smirks. And I breathe, finding rest in his reassuring expression. “Come here, Sparks.”
We sit on the floor in the corner of the kitchen with the wall to his back. I lay my head against his shoulder.
“After Glen spoke she attracted Monahan to her. In an instant, he learned enough about her to attract her to him, and she pursued. I can only guess what he’s doing with this attraction.”
“Like with Roehl and me?” I hate to bring this back up, but . . .
“Yes, but you fight it. Or try to. Glen went too quickly. No, I can’t say that because I don’t know how long Glen’s been gone or the level of effort Monahan’s putting toward overcoming her bond to Scott. That’s why Scott looks like he does.”
“What happened to him?”
He finishes his water before saying, “God, right?” There’s a pause. “God took out the time to make one person specifically for each of us. The heart thing—my taking on your heart after we mated, seals us. But when someone tells you what you want to hear, shows you what you want to see . . . An inception of love with the influence of your mate’s perception. They make it appear like they know you, and you become engrossed because they attract you with your wants, with what you believe you need. They use fragments of information they get from you and slowly reel you in until they hook you for good. Think of it like a Siren, playing with your mind. The reason it’s essential we find Glen soon is because providing Monahan the extended time with her allows him the opportunity to reel her in, making her choose him over Scott. And if she takes the bait, it can mentally break their bond. But it’s not real, and the confusion can kill her. It’ll become too much for her to handle.” His hold tightens on me.
I kiss his jawline, and the expanding bubble in my chest from the news about Roehl eases.
Nathan kisses my forehead and mumbles, “I got us, Sparks. I’ll take care of it.”
“I hate that it even happened. I feel so bad, and I hate the calm distance from you when you feel as if I’ve betrayed you. That I feel guilty even though I can’t control it.”
“I’m ready.” Scott comes into the kitchen, more attentive than moments ago. “I know where she is.”
“Good. We’re right behind you.” Nathan and I rise and lock eyes. “You ready?”
“Absolutely.” We need to find Glen ASAP.
“Sparks, I don’t know what’s going to happen when we go out here. We’ve never dealt with anything like this before, and we’ll be improvising. When we get to where Scott’s leading us, don’t talk and stay near me. If I walk away from you, even for a moment, stay put. Please?”
“You’re nervous?”
He nods, worry in his eyes. “As hell.” I can see it. Not fear, not disturbance, not uncertainty, but pure nervousness.
intense apathy
We’re assuming Glen’s being held against her will, and we’re expecting the worst, which I hope isn’t death. I wish Scott would’ve told us we’d be climbing a mountain. On our way over, the rain clouds burst, pouring down its rage. And being this high up, it’s freezing cold.
We make it to a plateau of the alp and Scott stops, scanning the area. The heavy wind and massive downpour whip my hair around my head, causing wet, icy cold strands to smack me in the face. I take the elastic from Nathan’s wrist and pull up my hair. It’s hard to see while I’m battling my hair and the rain.
None of us are prepared for the cold weather, but I’m the only one dying from the raining ice. We tread along the rocky ledge about a mile from the top and way too far from the bottom for me to look down. I trail behind Olar with Nathan at my back. He keeps his free hand on my waist, and I keep mine on the wall of the rock as we creep along the edge. The water from the rain rushing down the mountain’s side shoves me downward. Like, how great would it be if I slip and fall, and roll down this rocky beast of a mountain? On the brighter side, if I die, I won’t have to worry about Roehl anymore.
Nathan’s grip on my side tightens. Scott jumps from this edge down to one wider. Olar follows, and before I can consider it, we’re jumping. The rush is immediate. My heart hammers in my chest from the mix of adrenaline and panic. My legs are jelly as I try to calm down, but I don’t have time to as Nathan hurries me to follow. At least, down here, the rain isn’t as bad with the high cliff above us serving as an umbrella. That’s until the wind blows and smacks me with waves of freezing rain.
Nathan wraps his arms around my shoulders. The warmth is minimal, but almost enough. “Thanks,” I say through chattering teeth. The heat is short-lived when Scott stops, attention drawn to something out of my view.
Nathan leaves to his side, and they stare into the mountain. A dark, daunting hole stares back at them, warning, ‘do not come near my entrance, death lies within my darkness.’ But their Burdened minds likely interpret this warning as, ‘come, oh Burdened ones, let us rival in the night as you wander through my crevasses.’Someone’s going to dumbly suggest going in there.
We need to go in there, Scott says, kick-starting boulders rolling in my stomach.
I don’t know, Scott. We can’t see in there, Olar says. I agree. I don’t want to go in there.
Tracey can. Scott volunteers my services. Looking to Nathan, he continues, She can guide us through.
He cannot be serious. Bug-eyed and mortified, I shake my head.
Are you comfortable with that? Nathan asks me solo. I can tell by the distance his voice sounds in my head. When it is only him and I talking, it’s close and clear. When it’s more of us in a conversation, the voices are clear but they’re hollow and echoic.
No, Nathan. What if something is in there?
I’m pretty sure something is in there, Sparks.
What if it gets me?
You have three Burdened Sephlems with you. Nothing’s going to happen to you. He waves me forward.
But something might crawl on me. I rub my arms, trying to remove the feeling of creepers crawling on my skin.
Sparky, Glen could be in real danger of someone who could hurt her. And you’re worried about bugs? He turns me around to face the mountain and says to all of us, Come on, Sparks, do that night vision thing with your eyes, stay quiet, and lead Scott through the darkness. Scott will be in front of you, lead him by his shoulders.
I’ll be behind you and Olar behind me. Okay? Everyone nods except me.
I prepare myself, blinking the film over my eyes. My sight tints, darkening the night even further, but also allowing me to see in the darkness.
Scott enters the cave, and I carefully follow behind him. Once the gloom swallows us, I grab his shoulders and smoothly guide him through the blackness.
Besides Scott, there’s no red anywhere, only murk. And unlike night vision goggles that show green, making things extremely clear, my cloaked vision reveals in gray and black. Shadows are black and edges are gray, and my vision is not that clear, though it serves its purpose. Nathan’s able to see what I see, and he leads Olar behind us when we need to duck or move aside to avoid a protruding edge.
This cave is never-ending. Just space before us and rock aside and above us. Scott’s supposed to be using his senses to find Glen, but I don’t suppose it’s working because he hasn’t said anything. The silence is maddening, and my mind wanders between Roehl and the mountain caving down on us. Or Roehl somehow making the mountain cave down on us. Yeah, that’ll do it.
Nathan squeezes my side. Sparks, focus.
I’m trying to. It’s just this stupid brain making me think about other things.
Our steps are quiet. The enclosed space of the cave’s tunnel leaves no space for an echo, and Olar and Nathan all but have to duck and squeeze through the tight area.
A bright red figure comes in view, deep in the dark distance. With the frame of a male, it paces a wider area of the cave, from left to right. I can’t make out his face, nor what he wears, just his body shape and that he’s full of heat, letting me know this guy’s probably some kind of beast.
I pull Scott to a stop.
What do you see? he asks.
Something—someone is there, I answer. He’s huge, maybe taller than Olar, and he’s stocky.
I see him, Nathan cuts in. Take care of that, Night Eyes, he says only to me.
Dust him? I ask.
Yeah.
Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2) Page 23