Forgotten

by Sarah J. Pepper

  I pretended that I wasn’t leaning closer to him and that it was the way the bed was angled due to the weight of his body. He brought my trembling hand up to his mouth.

  “You excelled at denial, both then and now,” he said, and kissed my pinky finger.

  I memorized the way his lips felt as he kissed up the side of my arm. It was reckless to feel such an absolute need simply to caress another person. I couldn’t push away from him, not now. He’d hooked me. Since I couldn’t slow down my emotional rollercoaster, I meddled with his. I needed to be in control or I’d never stop him from crawling into the bed with me, and I was so not going to make an appearance on TeenPregs.

  “Was there a point in you dropping by, Jace? Or did you figure seducing me would be a piece of–”

  “Do me a favor and shut up,” he said and brought my arm above and behind me. It forced me to roll onto my back. I clenched my mouth tight like it’d prevent me from giving into temptation and kiss him. He leaned forward. His arm rested next to mine. Our fingers intertwined. I couldn’t bear it if he left me like everyone else in my life. I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else that I cared about. I felt gutted as it was; Jace could destroy me if I let him into my heart, and he stomped on it. Even as torn as I felt, I still couldn’t breathe when he was this close to me, and I didn’t care. I longed to be closer to him; I was at war with myself. Raising our hands, he placed mine on his chest.

  “Feel how your pulse makes mine frantic, Gwyneth. I lean in close to you, and your body warms, even though we’re barely touching,” he whispered. His strained voice made me shiver with excitement. “You haven’t breathed since I began speaking.”

  I couldn’t deny any of it. He knew it. He knew me. It terrified me just as much as I wanted to lose myself in him. Sensing my hesitation, he pulled me upright so I was sitting next to him. I heard myself gasp when the warmth emanating from his body enclosed around me. He made a sound from his throat that I didn’t know was possible. Tracing his nose against my cheek, he merely breathed; the hot air hit my skin, boiling my blood. I stopped thinking and stopped fighting. His heart pounded against his chest, matching speed with mine. My skin burned like my proximity to him would set me on fire. Everywhere his breath lingered over my skin made it tingle with exhilaration. I bit my tongue to keep from turning my head and kissing him.

  “You can feel my adoration burning on your skin, can’t you? It warms you, doesn’t it?” he said, and traced my skin along my arm with a finger. Everywhere he touched, my skin absorbed his fervor. “Passion is in our blood, just like humans. The difference lies in how we feel it. Both races feel their own desires, but we can feel each other’s. When you lose your breath, my lungs refuse to work. Your sexy little squeal echoes in my ears for hours after, just like you hunger for the sound of my voice. My skin lights on fire when you allow me to touch your smooth, beautiful porcelain skin.”

  I’d never been more terrified in my life. Everything he was saying was true – which was utterly impossible. I was human; he was human – right? We shouldn’t be able to feel another person’s attraction. Who did he think he was, if not human? A psychopath, that’s who!

  “If I was obsessed with you Jace, I would’ve kissed you by now,” I said.

  He pulled away like I slapped him. He stood and cursed in his own language. My skin felt like a cold shell and prickled with his frustration. He walked toward the bedroom window but paused before leaving.

  “The resident who bought the house where your family was murdered, requested a building permit years ago. Before the remodel, there were four rooms instead of three. The old blue prints indicate that the far right room and the most southern room weren’t one and the same. There was more than one person involved with your family’s deaths – I’d bet my entire fortune on it. Have a nice life; I’ll stay out of it, since you are incapable of accepting my intentions.”

  ***

  The next day, I marched up to the only white silhouette leaning against the lockers in the Senior Hall. Jace was toying with me, giving me just enough answers to keep me strung out. He dropped a bomb on me last night. I never thought that there were multiple people involved in my family’s murder. It got under my skin; he got under my skin. My ears, my skin, my body – my very being – were obsessed with him.

  I crossed my arms and waited for him to acknowledge my presence. The headache that had diminished long ago, accompanied him once again. A wave of dizziness enveloped me when he turned around, but his shape was smaller, less imposing. He didn’t smell like a rich cigar drenched in what I imagined lust smelled like.

  “Well, it’s obvious you can sense us. But it’s not proof you’re one of us.” A soft, angelic female voice echoed in the halls, perfect to be the muse to any musician.

  It was beautiful, captivating, and heavenly, yet I hated the very sound of it. Fury I didn’t think anyone person could possess boiled in my heart. The unearned anger I felt toward her was how I imagined the animosity an insane serial-killer must feel before committing a murder. My jaw clenched tight.

  “Do I know you?”

  I cautiously closed my eyes to see if she looked anything like the hazy figure Jace appeared to be in my sight. Light glistened under her skin, illuminating her like a glow stick.

  “Jace really hasn’t told you much, has he?”

  “Who are you? Better yet, what are you?”

  “He was mindful of the Scavengers, to not tell you what we are,” the female sung. “Perhaps he’s not as dimwitted as I once thought. It’s clear you’ve had a taste of him; you’re strung out. I hear the withdrawal from our kind, can be murder. Literally.”

  “Are you taking notes on Jace?”

  “You seem to be,” she answered stiffly and chuckled.

  I dug my fingernails into my palms to keep myself from slapping her for making a comment like that. The audacity that she’d have any inclination that Jace and I were a thing was a little presumptuous…even if I was going through a withdrawal of sorts.

  Conversely, I entertained a thought. If I’d accept that I’d lost my mind, and everything Jace said was the truth – were these feelings I experienced mine, or had I gotten a firsthand experience of what she thought about me? Judging from her instant attitude toward me, I could only guess that we were enemies – I just didn’t know why.

  “Why hasn’t he plucked you from this meager life?”

  “Meager life?” I didn’t bother hiding my annoyance.

  “A life without sight,” she replied. “You’re not very bright, but then again, you never were.”

  I wondered if I was angrier that she thought more highly of herself than me, or that I was defending Jace. “He hasn’t plucked me from my life, because I haven’t given him permission, lady.”

  “I don’t care if you are the Chronicler; you’ll address me by Analee, or the Master,” she hissed. “And until you find your precious sisters, you’ll treat me with the respect that any human would.”

  Ah-ha. Finally, some kind of an answer – there was more than just a love-struck sap (Jace) searching for a chick named Deino. There was a group of people hunting her down. Surely, Marco belonged to them as well. Perhaps the people who had an obsession with keeping my house windows open must have been in this same group. Marco suggested Analee held power when I spoke to him at the library. Jace referred to her often even though he didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about following her orders. Whoever she was, Analee was important, and for the time being I had some pull. They wanted me; I wanted answers. This was going to work both ways, if anyone was going to get what they wanted.

  “Who’s your friend?” Bree said, coming up behind us.

  I’d been in an intense staring-contest with Analee and hadn’t heard her approaching. “Analee,” I muttered. I figured telling Bree Analee liked to be addressed as the Master, would bring complications that weren’t necessary.

  Bree chuckled in a manner that was in no way pleasant. She crossed her arms and leaned over, like s
he was going to whisper something to me. However, there was nothing quiet about the way she spoke. “And here I was worried that she’d be pretty.”

  Analee laughed. It sounded like a fallen angel who’d escaped heaven’s doors only to be captured and tortured by hell’s demons. Another white figure moved in closer. I hadn’t noticed him approaching either. Either Analee was doing something to block out everything else in the world, or I had a bigger obstacle than Jace.

  When the other one got closer, an instant, pounding of a headache set in. For a moment, I thought it was Jace, until I closed my eyes to make sure. In the orb’s place, was a colorless ripple, looking much like a current in clear water. He flicked his finger at me like I was a speck of dirt he was trying to brush off. My ears rang. I opened my eyes as tears gathered.

  The young man whispered as he leaned against the locker wall on the opposite side of the hall. He played with a curl in his hair while he watched my reaction to the sound of his voice. I couldn’t hear him, but felt the air vibrate around me. My ear drums pounded; pressure formed around my skull. It hurt, but was nothing like what Jace put me through. I wobbled but didn’t have to lean against a locker to brace myself. I was stronger; perhaps my tolerance to these insane people had improved. I straightened my shoulders. I’d be damned to lose control in front of Analee, whoever she was. Just when I thought she’d make some snide comment, she turned away. The further they walked, the less nausea I endured.

  When she was out of sight, Bree leaned over to me. “Well, that Barbie was a hoot - I hope she and her friend don’t enroll in school here… Just FYI, I know you don’t care, but she and her curly-haired Ken doll were both hot – like, plastic surgery can’t even make you this hot-hot. He was unreal gorgeous, Winnie. I bet his baby blue-eyes have dropped a few panties before he hooked up with her.”

  “Were her eyes golden, and did she have blond hair that was outrageously beautiful?” She didn’t answer; I took the jaw drop to be a confirmation. “Listen, if you see Jace wandering these halls, will you tell him I need to talk to him?”

  “Should I tell him what about?”

  If an entire group of demented people were interested in ‘plucking me from this meager life,’ we had a serious talk in front of us. “He’ll know.”

  ***

  The tardy bell rang for fifth-period class. My table was empty. Both Jace and Ryker were no-shows. My heart dropped.

  Fifteen minutes into class, Jace finally showed. He handed a note to the art teacher. She took it, nodded, and told him to go to his seat. He walked right up to me and told me to move. I frowned like I wasn’t exactly pleased to see him – I didn’t want him thinking I was going to obey his every word, now that he hooked me. I was concerned and scared, but that didn’t mean I had to show it; I pretended I wasn’t absorbing the warmth that covered my body the closer he was to me. Whether it was my hunger for him or my resentment, I had strong feelings for him.

  “Listen, Gwyneth, I only showed up today because Bree sent me an SOS text and promised you wouldn’t be your usual stubborn self. I’m doing you a favor, so give an inch.”

  “Tell me why you insist upon this seat, and I’ll move.”

  “Because it is closer to the door,” he said and sniffed the air above me. “You smell like jasmine. You must have met Analee.”

  “And her new squeeze. Name every reason you want this particular spot, not just what you’re willing to reveal.”

  “Closer to the door, means I can better protect you.”

  “Then why haven’t you been showing up to class?”

  “Well, the note I gave the teacher was a doctor’s note saying I had mono.”

  “The real reason.”

  “There are other ways to keep tabs on you, since I don’t want to be around you right now,” he said, and manhandled me to the chair next to me. “But if I’m going to be in the same room as you, I’m going to use tactical measures.”

  He easily lifted me out of the chair. I struggled against him for good measure, but I didn’t exactly hate the way it felt to be wrapped up in his embrace. Just as the thought crossed my mind, he dumped me in a vacant spot.

  “From Bree’s description of Analee, I’m surprised you haven’t hooked up with her. She seems like your type,” I said. She was the fallen angel from my vision; she had to be. His silhouette blazed. Pin-pricks crawled over my skin not in a good way, which meant my remark provoked him.

  “I’ve never even considered giving Analee a taste of what I have to offer, but compared to you right now, I’d give her a shot if she wasn’t already with the Zalen.”

  “The Rippler?” I guessed, as he sat down next to me.

  “What do you want?” he demanded after Mrs. Briggs was in full swing with her lecture. “I’m busy trying to solve a sixteen-year-old murder for an ungrateful child.”

  “We have an agreement. You uncover my family’s murders, and I’ll let you heal me. However, you never said anything about a bunch of people looking for Deino, the Chronicler.”

  “I said there were enough people looking for you,” he corrected. “Stop making excuses to keep me at an arm’s length. We already have a deal. I’m not going to let you back out on it, but it doesn’t mean you get to talk down to me, or play games either.”

  “You’re right,” I confessed, hoping that he’d understand that I wasn’t trying to argue with him; it just came so naturally. “I don’t trust many people, especially ones that seem to be complete lunatics, like you and your friends.”

  “Lies,” he said. “You’re scared that I can actually do what I say. You’re not afraid of lunatics; you think they’re funny, and they remind you of the Cutter. You’re scared of people who can get close to you. You’re afraid to let people know the real you.”

  “Who is the Cutter?”

  He sighed, like he knew I wasn’t going to like the answer. “Your and the Prophet’s sister.”

  I pressed my lips together. I didn’t want to talk about this with so many people around. It could get complicated real fast. “I know I’ve said this before, but we need to talk about what you found about my family. Can you come by JJ’s tonight?”

  “Don’t know where it’s at,” Jace mumbled.

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Learned from the best,” he snorted, like he meant he learned his stubbornness from me.

  The little fiasco he put on that we’d known each other for years was getting old, but I needed his help if I was going to figure out who murdered my family. We sat in silence for the better part of Mrs. Brigg’s lecture. Two minutes before the bell rang, I still hadn’t swayed him. “I’ll owe you, Jace.”

  ***

  “Martha, set another plate,” John shouted out as he pulled the tin foil from the baking pan. The aroma of garlic and basil wafted into the air. “Winnie has company again.”

  “We’re having chicken and wild rice,” I said, opening the closet door as Jace walked through the front door.

  We didn’t exchange niceties. He handed me his jacket. I hung it up. He pet Max. I started to walk away when he grabbed my arm. As soon as I stopped walking, he let go.

  “Gwyneth, do your foster parents still believe we are dating?”

  “For now.”

  “You’re right. This charade isn’t a great cover story,” he said and then sighed as he reached for my hand.

  His total lack of enthusiasm made it clear, he was here to play the part of my boyfriend, and nothing more. Jace kept a distance, making sure he never got very close unless John or Martha was watching.

  If I didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes, I would’ve thought, we were really into each other. Jace made only a few comments, so I couldn’t even listen to the seductive waves in his voice. I thought his presence might ease some of my physical uneasiness, but rather, I was left with a cold, outer shell.

  Once the food was brought to the table, I excused myself to the bathroom, before we began eating. Having Jace at my home, and not bein
g allowed to get very close, was like dangling chocolate in front of me, but pulling it away as soon as I reached for it. My hands shook, as I splashed water on my face. Letting the water drip from my cheeks and chin, I took several deep breathes. When I was confident I could do this, I dried off.

  His lips replaced the rose petal. He didn’t so much kiss me, as tease me with the possibility of it. He spun me around in his arms. I opened my eyes to him releasing more petals over my head. His hands were calloused, showing the signs of a rough life. A faint silver scar trailed up the thumb and up his lean, muscular arm until hiding underneath his short-sleeved olive shirt.