by A. Z. Green
She wondered if it would be okay to ask if Lisa and Ellie could come.
No, that’d be really rude. I can call them everyday. I’ve got loads of free minutes.
“Is that a yes?” her aunt inquired though from the wideness of her own smile, she knew it was.
Jaz glanced up at her dad curiously when she’d noticed how tightly clenched his fists were. She gazed up at his face. He wasn’t looking at her. He was glaring at his sister. Jaz was shocked by the look in his eyes. He wasn’t just furious, he was anxious. She knew that because when he realized she was watching him, it was the first emotion to spread over his face.
She stared at him a moment longer, before she glanced at her mum. Rachel looked as if she’d been shot with a pellet gun. Her eyes were watery as she glanced from Aunt Erica to her daughter.
So I guess they have more reconciling to do than I had first imagined, Jaz thought with disappointment. “As long as it’s okay with mum and dad?” Jaz half-asked, half-answered. Her aunt swiveled round to look at them. Jaz noticed her father’s feet shift awkwardly.
She frowned, trying to understand her parents’ reactions until her aunt distracted her. “So? What d’ya think? Would you mind terribly if I steal your daughter for a week or two? Two might be better don’t you think? It will give her a break, change her surroundings.” Her brother eyed her unsurely. “Oh come on John. Can we put our differences aside? I’m only trying to help.”
He kept silent. Jaz wished he’d say something. She watched her father intensely, willing him to just apologize and get over whatever it was that he couldn’t seem to forget.
After a brief moment he sighed and said, “Very well.”
Jaz smiled, though it wasn’t as big as it could have been. She wasn’t the same smiley, bubbly person she had been a year ago. That would take time.
Her aunt grinned with delight and triumph. She turned to her niece and announced. “Well that’s settled then. You pack your bags; we’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning!”
Jaz was surprised at how short notice that was but didn’t really mind. She was just relieved to be able to get away. It would only be for two weeks anyway.
~Chapter 4- Find~
Monday 26th April, 2010, 7:05 a.m. - Arik’s Study
“Why did you choose to meet me here? Do you know what will happen if we get caught!?”
“Hushhhh!” hissed the young man.
His contact was only five years older but lacked the skills to lead, control his temper and remain calm in stressful situations.
The young man knew his contact's faults too well, but he was also strong, ruthless, useful and above all, he was loyal. To the young man and no one else. He'd made sure of that. “We can't meet in my room. It's too risky. Arik will be here any minute because he invited us here. He’ll never suspect anything is off. Apparently there's news about the girl.”
His companion widened his eyes in concern. “Do you think they know what happened?”
“Of course not!” the young man scoffed.
“What happens when they find the twin?” the contact inquired, his black eyes regarded the young man intently.
“It doesn’t matter. She'll not be a problem.”
“And Nik?”
The young man smiled slyly. “Leave him to me. Just keep your mouth shut, do your duties and they'll never find out about Lora.”
His contact was about to respond but the sound of jogging footfalls approaching from the corridor outside, silenced them both.
Within moments Arik rushed in, followed closely by Maria and another, younger woman behind her. The young man looked at them inquiringly, showing no hint that he’d had a very treacherous conversation only moments ago.
“Where is Nik?” Arik asked. In that moment, a tall, dark-eyed man appeared behind the door. He stepped in and surveyed them calmly. Inside he was quaking. He knew they had news. “Ah, perfect timing.”
“Well?” the young man pushed, impatiently.
Arik scolded him with his eyes. The young man looked away. The woman who had been standing close to Maria stepped forward. The suspense in the air was suffocating. The dark-eyed man clenched and unclenched his right fist.
“We’ve found her,” the woman announced.
The dark-eyed man could finally breathe though he had mixed emotions about it. He was relieved she’d been found, shocked and confused that she was even alive, excited and uncertain about meeting her. “Where is she?” he asked.
“She’s living in Sheffield, with her adopted parents.”
“She doesn’t know?” The younger woman gazed at the dark-eyed man gravely in response. “About anything?” he questioned.
She remained silent. Only he truly felt the weight of this answer. He knew the suffering she’d go through when all was revealed to her.
“Her name is Jasmine Barker. I’ve seen her but haven’t yet made contact. I plan to go in a few days,” the younger woman announced.
The dark-eyed man was itching with impatience but he was very good at self-control. He reined it in and told himself over and over again that it would take time.
Just wait.
The younger woman continued, “I need to gain her trust before I can do anything. I’ll keep an eye on her for any signs of Change.”
Everyone looked up at her as she said the word.
It was only the young man who asked what everyone else had been wondering. “She hasn’t Changed at all?” The younger woman shook her head. “Are you sure?” he pushed.
She glared at the boy, who she disliked more times than not, before replying in a sharp voice, “I am quite capable of determining these things; it is after all my speciality- not yours. I’m more than sure.” To her satisfaction, she silenced the boy. She then gazed at the others seriously. “She may be late in age but I have no doubt she is the one. I can smell it on her.”
“And what if you’re wrong and the same thing happens to her as it did to Lora?”
The dark-eyed man shot the young man a cutting glare at his words. The young man gazed at his superior apologetically. The dark-eyed man accepted it and looked away.
“It won’t,” was the woman’s resolute answer.
“I will know the difference,” the dark-eyed man added. He had a very low, velvety voice. The kind you knew, if he ever raised it in anger, it would be a deafening, terrifying sound.
“Yes, he will. You will feel the sisterly connection between her and Lora the moment you touch her. And you'll know for yourself who she is,” Maria acceded.
The dark-eyed man looked down, pretending to concentrate on a spot on the floor.
He was ashamed that he hadn’t realized the difference. Lora had been 'human'. He had suspected something wasn't right but not to this extent. Because he'd felt an immense love for her he was sure could only come from the bond. But it wasn't. Because that was only something purebloods could share, as far as he knew anyway. He was aggrieved that Lora had most likely not been his true mate after all. It would mean meeting her twin to know for sure.
Maria tapped her hand lightly on his arm in sympathy. Before they'd come to this meeting, she had said to him, “When you see her. When you shake her hand, the moment you even just touch her, you will feel it and you’ll know.” She wasn't talking about confirming the girl was Lora's twin. “One way or the other. If she is a potential mate you'll know. She will too, but she won’t understand it. As she is, her senses are not as strong as yours. But she will still feel something.”
People could put two and two together themselves and work out that this twin could be a possible bonded mate to him, but it wasn't as black and white as that. He understood that now, more than most.
Arik then turned to the younger woman asking, “How long do you believe you’ll need before she trusts you, Erica? She hasn’t got a lot of time left.”
“Give me a year max.” Erica replied confidently. “I am her real aunt after all.”
~Chapter 5- Lock~
Satu
rday May 7th, 2011, 10:34 a.m. - Jaz’s House.
“You’ll call me when you get to the nearest petrol station?”
“Yes, mum,” Jaz sighed as she handed her small suitcase to her Uncle Bo.
She’d only seen him a few times but from what she had seen, she knew he was a very polite, kind man. He was about an inch or so taller than her, making him shorter than average for a man. However, he was built like an ox under his bohemian tweed jacket, checkered shirt and velvet waistcoat. She only now observed the muscular shape of his arms beneath the colourful shirt as he took the suitcase from her.
She gazed at his smooth, youthful skin -apart from a few crows’ feet caused by years of smiling- before he turned away. She liked that part about him the most. His washed-out hair was thinning at the front and turning steely grey at the sides making his real age hard to guess.
He was a quiet, but witty man who knew a lot about old-fashioned automobiles; in fact, anything with an engine always made his eyes light up. That was all he and her father seemed to talk about. Apart from these things, she didn’t know much else about him. But she found him easy to get on with and she figured that’s all that really matters.
His bright, kind brown eyes, and thin-lipped mouth always appeared amused and a little smug, as if he was laughing inwardly at his own private joke. Today, however, his jaw was wound tight, and he seemed distracted.
He carried her luggage a few steps before the driver took it from him silently. Jaz was too busy being strangled in a bear hug from her mother to notice. When she managed to escape the strangle hold, her dad took his wife's place, gently wrapping his arms around Jaz. Then his grip round her back tightened. Her heart skipped a beat. It felt like a goodbye hug. A real goodbye.
Why is he being so dramatic?
She couldn’t see what had happened in the past that would make him so worried. Aunt Erica wasn’t a serial killer. Was she?
Of course not! He would’ve called the police and sent her packing. Don’t be an idiot.
Jaz looked him straight in the eye and said, “I’ll call you everyday.”
“I know you will,” he smiled back gently, though inside he knew she couldn’t keep that promise.
Her aunt grabbed her shoulders to swivel her round to the car. It was a shiny, black Mercedes but that was as far as her knowledge about cars could gather. A bit too mature for her taste but she liked the idea of sitting in it. She really wanted to drive it too but wasn’t planning on asking. It was then, when she thought about driving that she finally locked eyes with the unknown driver.
He was standing at the bottom of the driveway with his back leaning against the Mercedes passenger door, watching her. He hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she'd walked out the house, but she didn’t know that.
The feelings that had been rushing through his head, his heart, even his blood and bones and nerve endings were so overpowering everything tingled as though they were alive. His skin was on fire but it was a good feeling. Like scratching an itch. A long awaited, irksome, exasperating itch.
So this is what it’s like, he thought, as he'd watched her come out of the house.
Now he understood that the passionate feelings he had felt for Lora were only a tear drop to the whole world’s oceans in comparison to what he felt for Jaz. At least, what he had the potential to feel for her.
He found it ridiculously unfair and betraying. Lora had earned his love and affection, Jaz hadn’t even looked at him yet. But when she did, all those negative thoughts drained from his head. Every thought disappeared and all he could do was study her.
Everything about her was considerably darker and Delphian in comparison to her sister.
Lora's hair had been honey blonde, her face golden, glowing and always smiling, her eyes bright blue like the sky. He glanced upwards. Not a cloud in sight. It was the first time he looked away from Jaz. He gazed back down at her. The sun was out and made her fine, shoulder-length hair transform from dark brown to a deep brick red. It brought out the natural pinkness of her fair cheeks.
Her skin was ivory-pink and flawless. Apart from the dark shadows under her eyes there were no blemishes. Her lips were smaller than Lora’s, not as full either, but they were a prettier shade of dark pink and were set in an amused curve that he liked immensely. She had kind, warm eyes that looked olive green away from the sun, but a deep blue when she turned towards it.
Jaz stared at the man who she’d never seen before and yet was sure she recognized, like she was experiencing deja vu.
He was very tall. Probably six foot five, she guessed as she observed him next to the car. He was slim too but she could see even with a suit on, that he was built. He wasn’t wearing a tie which seemed odd; like he didn’t want to appear he was trying too hard but still wanted to make the effort. She blinked a few times, wiping away that idea. She was over thinking things again.
Something bright and metallic winked at her as it reflected the sun and she glanced down. He had a silver ring on the third finger of his right hand. It looked old. Something that she suspected he’d inherited from his father and his father before him. It interested her. He interested her.
His eyes were striking. They were so dark she couldn’t tell what colour they were. They were shaded by black eyebrows and separated by a long, thin nose like a sword.
He wasn’t pretty or boyish. She suspected he was much older than her though she wasn't sure by how much. He could have passed for anywhere between twenty-eight and thirty-eight at a push. His features were sharp and strong. His mouth was thin and hard. He had a shaven head which just exaggerated the darkness of his eyes and made it more difficult to pinpoint his age. His skin tone was a dusty olive colour.
When she looked at him, especially with the black suit, all she thought was ‘Italian gangster’. It made her giggle a little inside. He noticed the momentary change in her eyes and became instantly curious.
She observed him as she approached until they were but a few feet from each other. They gazed at one another for an awkward few seconds before her aunt saved them both. “Oh sweetheart, I forgot to mention, this is our driver.”
Jaz smiled civilly though it wasn’t as wide as she might have hoped. She did however, hold out her hand to shake his. He slowly reached out and the moment they touched she felt a strange static shock. It wasn’t the normal kind. She could feel it spark through her whole body. It wasn’t real- not in the physical sense. It felt like something more than that and it bewildered her.
She suddenly felt urges she didn’t dare voice out loud. Impulsively, she released a very small, ragged breath before she could hold it back. She was thankful it hadn’t been any louder. Unfortunately for her, Driver heard it very clearly. It thrilled and excited and uprooted him.
She blushed at the reaction of her body and just stared at him. His sharp eyesight saw the colour brighten her cheeks. The satisfaction he felt appeared in a tiny smile that was fleeting. Jaz wasn’t sure if she’d really seen it or if she’d imagined it. They released hands.
“Nice to meet you…?” she began in a quiet voice, waiting for him to tell her his name.
“Driver,” his voice was so low, buttery and powerful she had to gather herself for a moment.
What the hell is a matter with you!? She shouted at herself in disgust.
She cleared her throat almost inaudibly and frowned for a split second when she suddenly realized something. Had he refused to give her his name?
She thought it would be weird -and probably embarrassing- to ask so she just nodded her head absently and forced a smile. It made her look so uncomfortable he had to hold his lips together firmly to contain the wide grin itching to stretch across his face. He managed to avoid exposing his teeth. He very rarely showed his teeth.
“And of course this is my niece, Jasmine,” Aunt Erica managed to keep the flow of the conversation going as if oblivious to the awkward silence only seconds ago.
“Nice to meet you, Jasmine.”
It�
�s Jaz, she was tempted to say but kept her mouth locked tight. She figured if he wasn’t going to be on ‘first name’ terms then why should she bother?
When she finally got in the car, she looked briefly at her parents.
She couldn’t restrain the sudden anger and frustration from bursting through her emotional banks as she watched them. She’d felt this way on and off for a year. The old wounds of their distrust in her, still stung; even now when she could clearly see the concerned looks on their faces. The kind of look any parent would wear when they were saying goodbye to their child. She couldn’t help but feel a little resentment wondering, if they had believed her from the start, maybe things wouldn’t have gotten so bad and she wouldn’t even be sat in this car.
They were thinking the same thing. Her father had been up all night painstakingly analyzing all his actions of the past year. They’d made a mistake. He could see that now.
They’d done it all for the right reasons; at the time. They had come to the conclusion the year before, that making out she wasn’t a virgin despite her protests, would have been safer for her in the long run. It was vital that her aunt believe she had miscarried. They’d prayed when the manipulative witch showed up that she’d believe it all.
He’d convinced the doctor with a generous bribe to tell Jasmine that she had miscarried just so she'd never learn the truth about what had happened -he hadn't been able to look in the mirror ever since. And he'd also pushed the doctor to say that she was unable to have children. Though it sounds the complete opposite, it had been done for her protection, at least until they were ready to to tell her the truth. But it was too late now.
On top of all the things he regretted doing or not doing, he'd also had to hand out more money to make sure the doctor kept to his story in case anyone came asking.
His wife had not been happy about it but he was sure that would be all the proof her aunt would need to see that Jasmine wasn’t the one ‘they’ were looking for.