Purify: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance: Blood Persuasion Book 2

by Wendi Wilson

  I grabbed a napkin to wipe away the moisture in my eyes. “Sorry, Wyatt, but I think I needed that, so thanks.”

  “I aim to please,” he deadpanned, grabbing his own napkin and scrubbing it across his forehead. Then his grin was back. “It was nice to hear your laughter again,” he said, his voice quiet.

  I returned his grin. It felt good to laugh again. Jett nudged me and looked over at the shiny metal flask he held next to my leg. Hunger pains shot through my stomach at the sight of it. I hadn’t had any blood since our session with Dr. Patton, and I was starved for more than just the food on my plate.

  I took it from him with a nod of gratitude, slouching low and taking a long swig before recapping it and passing it back. I sat up straighter, picked up my burger and took a huge bite. I moaned in pleasure as the flavors of charred meat and gooey cheese hit my tongue, my eyes practically rolling back in my head.

  Beckett coughed, and my eyes snapped toward him. His face was red, his eyes a little glassy. My food went down the wrong pipe, choking me. My eyes bulged and Jett pounded on my back, dislodging the piece of beef blocking my windpipe. I coughed a few more times and took a drink of soda.

  I snuck a peek at Beckett, who was staring at the cuticles on his right hand. His face was still a little pink.

  “Are you okay, Savanna?” Wyatt asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Just went down the wrong pipe, is all.”

  That and the fact that Beckett was thinking about last night! I thought. It was pretty obvious, to me at least, that my moan as I took a bite of my burger reminded him of…other moans.

  “Why are you blushing?” Jett asked, arching a brow.

  “Because, it’s embarrassing,” I snapped. I took a deep breath. “Sorry,” I said, “I’m fine. Thanks for your help.”

  Jett nodded, but his stupid eyebrow was still arched, like he knew something else was going on. My eyes flicked to Beckett, who offered me an apologetic smile before returning his attention to his fingernails.

  I finished off my food as we talked about mundane things, careful to keep the conversation far away from all things Alt-related. The boys understood that I’d had enough for the day. Jett and I made arrangements to get together the next day as they drove me home.

  I had big plans to change into my pajamas, check the webpages for each of my teachers to find out what I’d missed Friday, and catch up on my homework. Normal teenager things. As my life got stranger and stranger, it was those things I could hang onto for some sense of normalcy. The boys understood that and dropped me off at home without argument, even though it was Saturday afternoon.

  With all the crazy in my life, they were one of the few things I was truly grateful for. They got me, and I them. I didn’t think I’d be able to handle any of this without them.

  Chapter Twenty

  “So, my mom wants me to come with her to the shelter today,” I said after ushering Jett inside.

  She’d dropped that on me five minutes before, when I knew Jett was already on his way. A look of disappointment flashed across his face before he quickly smoothed out his features.

  “Okay,” he said in a neutral voice. “Can we hang out later?”

  “She said you can come with us, if you want,” I said, striving for the same bland tone. I really wanted him to come, but only if he wanted to.

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “I told her we had plans, and she suggested you come. I used to go with her every week, but lately…”

  My words trailed off, not needing to be spoken aloud. I’d been spending every Sunday with at least one of the Patton brothers, if not all of them. Mom had been surprisingly lenient with me, giving me my space, but it had been weeks since I’d gone with her. Community service was important to Mom and she wanted to instill those values in me.

  “That could be cool,” Jett said, the corners of his mouth turning up.

  “Really? You’ll go?”

  “Oh, hey, Jett. You’re coming with us?” Mom said as she walked past us toward the front door.

  “Hi, Mrs. James. Yes, I’d love to come, if it’s okay with you. I don’t want to impose.”

  “Of course, it’s no imposition,” Mom said, a smile lighting up her face. “The more, the merrier. They can use all the help they can get at the shelter. Savanna’s father is on a shift at the hospital, or I’d coerce him into coming, too.”

  Laughing, Mom opened the front door, waving us through so she could lock up behind us. We walked toward the driveway, but before I could climb into Mom’s car, Jett grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stop.

  “Mrs. James?” he said, getting her attention. “I should drive my truck, just in case. If something comes up with my brothers and I need to leave early, I don’t want to force you to leave, too.”

  “Giving yourself an escape hatch, eh?” Mom said, lifting an eyebrow.

  “Not at all,” he said, chuckling. “I’m in for the long haul, unless there’s an emergency at home.” He looked from her to me and back again. “Would it be okay if Savanna rode with me?”

  Mom huffed. “Don’t you guys get sick of each other? You’re all together, a lot.”

  Jett’s face grew serious. “Never,” he said, like he was making a solemn vow.

  Mom huffed out a breath. “Fine. Go ahead. I’ll meet you there,” she said.

  I threw my arms around her, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” she said, but held onto me for a moment longer before pushing me away and shooing me toward Jett’s truck.

  “I’ll meet you guys there,” she called out as Jett opened the passenger door for me.

  Giving her a wave, I climbed in and he closed the door behind me. Jogging around the front, he climbed in and shot me a grin.

  “Alone, at last,” he said, cranking the engine.

  “Yeah, real smooth,” I said, my voice laced with sarcasm. “I don’t want to impose,” I said, mimicking him. “Laying it on a little thick, weren’t you?”

  He laughed. “Yeah, well, I want her to think I’m an upstanding young man,” he said, squaring his shoulders and holding his head high as he followed Mom up the road toward the highway.

  “You are, you know.”

  “I am, what?”

  “An upstanding young man,” I said.

  He smiled without looking at me, making his whole face light up. “Maybe. Sometimes.”

  I chuckled. He was right. He wasn’t always so upstanding, particularly when we were alone together.

  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  The shelter was crazy. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like the number of homeless seeking a hot meal had doubled since I was last there. Mom, Jett, and I wore aprons, hairnets, and plastic gloves as we served up hot beef stew and cornbread to the seemingly endless line of patrons.

  Jett worked tirelessly, never complaining. As fulfilling as the volunteer job was for my mom, and even me, I never expected Jett Patton to enjoy the work. But I could tell by the look on his face that he did. Nothing like seeing the gratitude in a hungry child’s eyes for small bowl of thin soup and a chunk of bread. It really put our own lives into perspective.

  We were there for nearly two hours and the lunch shift was almost over when it happened. Mom had taken and empty pot back into the kitchen area, so Jett and I were on our own in the soup line.

  The guy looked harmless enough, and honestly, he probably was. When it was his turned to be served, Jett held out a bowl to him. The guy sneered, one side of his upper lip curling in a nasty way.

  “I’m not takin’ food touched by yer kind,” the man said.

  “Excuse me?” Jett responded, but the man ignored him, moving to stand in front of me with his hands out.

  “He offered you a bowl. If you’re hungry take it,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  My anger was simmering, ready to hit the boiling point at any second. The boys and I occasionally came across people like this. People so filled with mistrust
, prejudice, and sometimes even hatred for Alts that they spewed vile comments or treated them like some kind of mutant aliens.

  “Savanna, it’s okay,” Jett said in a low voice.

  “No, Jett. It’s not,” I said, standing my ground. I looked back at the man. “Well? Are you hungry, or not?”

  “Just gimme my damn stew,” the man snarled at me.

  “Take it from him,” I countered, pointing at Jett.

  The man leaned over, and I thought he was going to cave and take the bowl from Jett’s hands. Instead, he backhanded the bowl, causing it to fly through the air and spill its contents all over the floor, barely missing Jett’s shoes. Surprisingly cool, calm, and collected, Jett grabbed a roll of paper towels and bent over to clean up the mess.

  “There ya go, boy. Clean up that mess. That’s all yer kind is good for, freak,” the man said, a smile of contempt on his face.

  His words were the straw that broke the camel’s back. My vision filtered through the red haze of anger and I slammed my hands down on the counter and leaned toward him.

  “Apologize,” I said through gritted teeth.

  The man laughed. He honest to God laughed, right in my face, his putrid breath making my nose twitch.

  “Just give me some food, bitch.”

  “What did you just say to her?”

  Jett was suddenly beside me, nostrils flaring and breaths coming in short pants. The man looked unfazed, keeping his eyes on me, holding a hand out as if he thought I would actually serve him. Jett took a step forward, but I stopped him with a hand to his chest. I never took my eyes off the vagabond.

  “I said, apologize.”

  The man met my eyes and, sucking in a breath, he took a small step back. “Your eyes,” he muttered.

  “Apologize!”

  I screamed the word. It echoed back at me, over and over until I broke free of the rage that consumed me and actually took in my surroundings. Every person in the building was looking at me, their lips moving, forming the same words over and over.

  “I apologize.”

  “I apologize.”

  “I apologize.”

  I looked to Jett for help, but he had that dazed look in his eyes and the words were flowing from his lips. My hand flew to my mouth, horror flashing through me as I realized what I’d done.

  “Stop apologizing!” I screamed in a panic.

  The room fell silent. For one, brief, frozen moment, the world was a vacuum with a hundred pairs of terrified eyes sucking the air from my lungs. Then the silence was shattered by a scream.

  Half of the room headed for the doors while the other half headed for me, anger blazing in their eyes. All they needed were torches and pitchforks. As I watched with leaden limbs, hands grabbed me from behind and I realized my mother was yelling my name.

  “Jett, get her out of here!” she screamed, pushing me toward the entrance to the kitchen.

  My legs refused to do their job and I stumbled. As the floor raced up to meet my face, arms wrapped around my waist and jerked me back. My vision blurred as I was whipped around, then again as I was carried out the back door cradled against Jett’s chest.

  Angry shouts met my ears as he ran toward the truck. Without letting me go, he managed to get the passenger door open and lifted me up onto the seat. He yelled something about the seat belt as he slammed the door and ran around to jump in behind the wheel.

  “Savanna.”

  I took in my surroundings as my dazed mind came back to the present, escaping from the horrifying scene playing over and over on a loop in my head. We were well out of Savannah, at least half way back home.

  “Savanna, are you okay?”

  The gentle cadence of his voice drew my attention and, as I met his worried gaze, I lost any semblance of control I had been holding onto. Heaving sobs wracked my body as it flashed hot, then cold, then back to hot again. The truck skidded off the road, coming to a halt on the dirt shoulder.

  Before I could blink, I was in Jett’s lap, my tears soaking the front of his shirt. His strong arms circled around me, a tight cage that kept me safe from the world outside. I could hear him whispering, soft words I couldn’t quite make out, but the sound soothed me just the same. Eventually, my sobs dwindled to small hiccups and I lifted my head to look into his eyes.

  “I should have stayed. Persuaded them to forget.”

  “It was chaos, Savanna. It would’ve been impossible, even if you weren’t freaking out.”

  “What am I going to do, now?”

  “You’re going to go home and forget all about it,” he said.

  “But Jett, I just persuaded several dozen people. At once. Including you.”

  I clenched my fists as a fresh wave of tears threatened. I blinked against the stinging in my eyes, forcing them back. The time for hysterics was over. I needed to be strong.

  “Savanna, it’s simple. You just won’t go back there. The only people that knew you were me and your mom.”

  “Mom,” I said, gazing out the window for a second before looking back at his face. “She won’t be able to go back there, either, and it’s all my fault.”

  “She will, eventually,” he said, his voice more hopeful than certain.

  “How am I going to explain this to her?” I asked, sliding off his lap and onto the seat beside him.

  “You’ll have to tell her the truth. There’s no reason to lie now that she’s seen you in action.”

  “Oh, God, I—”

  The ringing of Jett’s phone cut me off. “It’s Beck,” he said, tapping the screen and lifting it to his ear.

  “Hey, now’s not really…what?!”

  “What?” I asked, my heart thumping wildly. When Jett didn’t respond, I snatched the phone from him. “What is it, Beckett?”

  “I’m so sorry, Savanna, but you can’t go home. Your secret is out and people are looking for you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “As you can see in this video, a young girl, who by all reports is not an Alt, allegedly persuades an entire room full of people.”

  Wyatt picked up the remote and changed the channel. The face of the homeless man, the instigator of the entire debacle, filled the screen.

  “She weren’t no human. I thought so, at first, but then I got a good look at ’er eyes. They weren’t the same as that boy’s, but they did have a silver circle around ’em.”

  Wyatt stabbed at the remote again.

  “The video was uploaded anonymously to a popular video streaming site. There is no indication that the person recording has been affected by—”

  Wyatt turned it again, but I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Turn it back.”

  We were sitting on the couch in their living room, all of us squished up against each other, watching the news as we tried to figure out our next course of action. The leaked video was picked up by the local news stations, which led to the national stations getting ahold of the story. You couldn’t really see my face, but my voice was loud and clear. Eventually, someone would identify me. I knew it wouldn’t be long before government agencies, or at the very least, the local police came looking for me.

  Wyatt clicked the button to turn it back, and the video was playing with news anchor commentary going over the top.

  “As you can see, and hear, the teen yells at the man to apologize.” There’s a pause as the footage shows me yelling. “Now, every person in the room stops what they are doing and turns to face the girl and the Alt beside her. Every person besides the one filming, that is.”

  He was right. The video was panning from left to right, then back again. You could hear the many apologies being spoken, but no voice was loud or clear enough to have been spoken by the videographer.

  “And listen to this,” the new anchor said.

  We all leaned forward, and Wyatt turned up the volume a few notches. And there it was. The one thing we hadn’t notice the first dozen or so times we watched the footage, but this news station had caught. A giggle. It was soft, nearly unnoti
ceable, but definitely there.

  The person who filmed me, possibly outing me as an Alt to the entire world, was immune to my persuasion.

  “What the hell?” Jett spat out as Wyatt muted the television.

  “Our whole lives,” Beckett said, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the floor, “we’d never met a single person immune to persuasion.” His eyes jumped to mine. “Then there was you.”

  “And Uncle Earl,” Wyatt said.

  “And whoever filmed me today,” I added.

  “That definitely wasn’t Uncle Earl’s laugh,” Jett said.

  “Oh my God, Lizzie’s party,” I said. “Whoever filmed us dancing didn’t tell you they had the footage. They must have been immune to your persuasion.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” Beckett said. “We could have missed someone.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “It fits. The person was in the room, because you guys were in the video. It showed you persuading everyone. No way could they have slipped out without your notice. They were there. And they pretended to be persuaded.”

  “Do you think it was Fiona?” Jett asked. “She seemed to be under my influence for a while, but after the party, she tripped you in class.”

  “Yes, I remember,” I said, massaging my palm as I remembered the glorious pain of slapping Fiona Butler. “What happened to make her immune?”

  “Maybe she was faking the whole time,” Wyatt suggested.

  “No way,” I said. “Remember that day in the parking lot? There is no way in hell Fiona heard me admit to dating you all and kept it a secret. Beckett’s persuasion to make her forget it worked. Something had to have changed after that.”

  “Well, in any case, I think Savanna and I would have noticed if she’d been there today,” Jett said.

  “He’s right,” I said. “Besides, I’ve heard Fiona’s laugh a gazillion times in my life and that wasn’t it.”