Burning Emerald (24 page)

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Authors: Jaime Reed

BOOK: Burning Emerald
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I held my head in my hands and closed my eyes, trying to block out the world. Maybe my stepmother was right and I really did own bad juju, more than the standard Cambion quota. People sensed it, but had the good manners to keep quiet. But this was only the beginning of the questioning. Mom would want to know the truth and there was no way to get around it now.
“Samara?” Mom stroked the top of my head.
I looked up and soon regretted it. Everything in the room turned into a Salvador Dali painting—melting pictures and leaking chairs. Mom's features drooped like hot wax, smearing on bland custard-tinted walls that suddenly lost their depth. Nadine still lay dead on the floor, her hair tossed across the rug like scattered hay. I was desensitized to all of it, as this, too, had become freakishly normal.
“Michael is sleeping down here tonight,” Mom said, her voice a slurred and warped record played backwards. “Caleb and Haden have your room, so you'll have to sleep with me. Come up when you're ready, okay? Samara?”
I snapped my eyes shut and took a deep breath before following her out the room. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the second my foot touched the wooden foyer, it stopped. Someone opened a sealed jar and let out the pressure in my ears with a loud pop. The house fell quiet again and I could hear myself think.
“Mom?” I called from the bottom of the stairs.
“In the morning. We will talk in the morning.” Mom climbed the stairs, holding a shaky grip on the banister, an old brittle woman sapped of strength. I could only imagine what was going through her head. As the only normal person in the house, she'd been drop-kicked into a world she'd never known existed, and probably wished for ignorance to return. I went to the alarm by the door and checked the setting. It was a small comfort, if anything.
“Tomorrow is another day” rang as the closing sentiment of the evening. I'd expected a flood of accusations, but no one wanted to talk. No one wanted to look at me either, and kept their distance in case my juju was contagious. The brothers took over my room, not letting anyone, mainly me, enter. Haden stood guard like a bouncer checking IDs at the door.
“Go to bed, Samara,” he ordered gruffly.
“You can't tell me what to do,” I said. “It's my house!”
“It's my brother,” he countered with equal annoyance. “He's in a bad way right now. He needs to remain calm, and you might spark a negative reaction. Go to bed. We'll deal with this in the morning.”
He wasn't going to budge on the matter. Sulking, I went to Mom's room, took a shower, and allowed the hot jets to beat me into submission. Try as they might, nothing could truly keep me from Caleb, the burning ache attacking my body made that point clear.
I was the last to hit the sack. Mom was already asleep, but she whimpered a lot and I knew the night's excitement had crept into her dreams. To be honest, I was feeling a little creeped out myself. Much like in the living room, bad memories clung to every shadow in her bedroom as proof that the dead weren't really gone. That was reason enough to sleep with the lights on.
I slipped to the left side of the bed, then snuggled close to my mom until the noises stopped. Turning on my stomach, I felt something hard and cold under my pillow. My fingers traced along the barrel, and I didn't need to see what it was. I smiled at this shred of normalcy, relieved that some things would never change. It figured she would keep a weapon in her bed, and I just hoped it wouldn't go off when I rolled over.
22
T
he smell of coffee and bacon woke me the next morning.
My one good eye glared at the alarm clock on the nightstand, which revealed the approach of noon. I didn't remember falling asleep. No dreams supported this seven-hour blink, and the bands of light shooting through the curtains made it clear that said blink was all I was getting. I rolled over and found Mom already gone, the blue quilt on her side of the bed tucked and folded smooth. The world carried on without skipping a beat, and it was up to me to keep pace.
Gravity was a worthy adversary today; it kept weighing me down and tripping my legs. My head played nothing but reruns of last night's excitement, and I wished to return to the quiet abyss that came with sleep.
I poked my head out of Mom's room and found my door wide open. Steam from the bathroom leaked into the hallway. I made a mental note to disinfect the area of all the boy germs, and check the medicine cabinet for anything missing. Laughter from the first floor told me where everyone had disappeared to, so I followed the voices downstairs toward the dining room.
A picture of family splendor stood before me—the proud mother tending to her sons. The scene was a reenactment of the precious gems in Caleb's memory bank, one of many I'd stolen while feeding from him. The brothers ate up the attention, wrapped in the memories of their mother. I felt like a guest in my own house, intruding on a special moment.
“Here you go, Caleb. Now I want you to finish everything on that plate. You need to build your strength back.” Mom set down a serving tray full of pancakes, eggs, and leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner.
The brothers leaned in and ogled the spread but drew back when Mom spoke again.
“And you two, don't you dare touch his food. You just wait until I bring out the rest.”
Haden offered an innocent smile, while Michael—as usual when in a woman's presence—averted his eyes.
“Thank you, Ms. Marshall. You didn't need to do all this.” Caleb reached for the bandage taped on his forehead, but a light swat on the hand stopped him.
“Hush. I love men with healthy appetites.” She ruffled Caleb's hair, then went to the kitchen.
Mom was in for it with these guys. Across the board, the Rosses were greedy sumbitches. As soon as her back turned, the brothers dove into Caleb's plate, snatching the bacon and honey biscuits.
Poor Cake Boy didn't stand a chance and he ate what was left of his meal slowly. The fork shook in his hands, trying to aim the food to his mouth. It would take a while for him to regroup completely, but his laughter promised a quick recovery. His dimpled grin made me homesick, and I wanted to taste the lips attached to that smile.
Without lifting his head, Caleb asked, “Why don't you come join us, Sam?”
The room got quiet in record time; silverware clattered against plates. My heart fluttered at the sound of my name. Of course he knew I was near. There was no concealment from him for very long.
I stepped from my hiding place and entered the dining room. “Morning.”
Avoiding the three sets of purple eyes on me, I took a seat at the far end of the table.
Mom returned with another platter of food. “Morning, sweetie. How are you feeling? Get enough rest?”
“Yeah, Mom.” I looked across the table to the only eyes not fixed on me. “How are you, Caleb?”
“Could be better, but glad it's not worse.” He took a bite of his pancakes, while I shook off the chill of his answer.
Michael slapped Caleb on the shoulder, which almost knocked him out of the chair. “Don't worry; I gave him some painkillers that will set him right. He won't feel a thing in a bit.”
Caleb didn't appear to feel anything now.
“Well, since we're all refreshed and coherent ...” Haden paused and looked at Caleb teetering in his chair. “Close enough to it anyway. We can now discuss what happened.”
Haden, Michael, and Mom waited for me to let it rip. I took a long, deep breath before speaking. I wasn't sure if any of it made sense, but I had to get it all out. On and on, I spat my tale, my chest heaving, hoping my audience could decipher the word-vomit. When I finished, I buried my head in my arms. I could feel them staring me down in allegation; worst of all was Caleb.
Michael spoke first. “Are you taking the piss?”
“Take what?” I checked the front of my pants. If I'd had an accident, last night had supplied a good reason.
“I meant, are you joking?” he rephrased. “You're saying that thing outside mated with Nadine? Ew!”
“Samara, how long have you known about this?” Mom asked from the doorway.
“Since that day I got detention in school.” I rehashed the events, every sordid detail. When I mentioned going to the hospital the following day, the brothers lost their shit. More plates and silverware rattled the table as four reddened faces—including Mom's—closed in on me.
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” Haden erupted. “A demon's energy is volatile.”
“Yeah, but it's powerful enough to revive Caleb,” I replied.
“Powerful enough to turn Caleb into a monster!” Haden pointed to his ailing brother. “Have you learned nothing from this summer, what Caleb had to go through?”
I looked to Caleb for aid, but his eyes fell on his plate again. “I just wanted to help him. The same thing could've happened to me. I figured dividing the amount between us might, I don't know, dilute the potency or something.”
“Samara, why didn't you tell me?” Mom asked, clearly hurt by my secrecy.
“So you can have more reason to stay awake at night? Right.”
Slamming his hand on the table, Haden shot from his seat. “I can't believe this! You put all of us at risk! If that thing can turn into a black cloud or any other bloody thing it wants, what kept him from entering Caleb's hospital room? He could've disguised himself as a doctor and killed Caleb in his bed. Better still, he could've murdered me or Michael while we slept. You should have told us, given us some warning so we could protect ourselves. But no, you'd rather take the empty promise of a demon? Tell me you're not that stupid, Sam.”
I leapt to my feet. Blood rushed straight to my brain, but I gained enough clarity to tell him off. “Don't blame this on me. I didn't ask to be linked to Caleb, I didn't ask for Lilith, I didn't ask to get Nadine's baggage, and I sure as hell didn't ask for a psychotic demon to call dibs on me.”
“Samara!” Mom admonished, but I was on a roll.
“No!” I yelled at her before swinging around to glare at Haden and Michael again. “Believe it or not, I was trying to protect you and Caleb. I had his room door covered with oil and I gave him as much energy as I could—good or bad. Tobias won't kill Caleb, and I've done everything to keep it that way, because I don't want to share the same fate as your father! So yeah, I made a deal to keep quiet and to stay away from the guy I love, but I'm not stupid! Don't think that my silence hasn't cost me anything, because it has. Everything I care about is being destroyed, including my car!” I fell back in my chair and returned to my sulk. The brothers went quiet while I continued to weep against the table.
Mom rubbed my back in a wasted attempt to console. “Honey, calm down. We'll figure this out.”
“I used your shampoo, by the way. Good stuff. Smells like coconuts,” Michael announced.
I lifted my head to Michael, who lovingly stroked his wet braid. All activity in the dining room paused at the random comment from its craziest occupant. It stood to reason that Caleb wasn't the only one at the table who was medicated, but Michael had succeeded in melting some of the tension.
Haden dismissed his brother and turned to me. “I'm sorry you had to go through this alone—quite a lot to take on for someone your age. We heard of incubi growing up, legends and whatnot, but I'd never seen one until last night. They're extremely rare, you see, almost extinct to the point of myth. And if he's connected to you somehow, he'll be even harder to destroy.”
I wiped my tears on my shoulder. “I don't think we can. You saw what happened last night—Tobias and Caleb are connected through me. They can't hurt each other without hurting me, which hurts themselves.”
“This is completely, absolutely mental,” Haden raved. “How can you be linked to two people at once? Do you truly know what a link is, Sam?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “I know what it is. I'm living it.”
“Then you know that you can only have one mate. Why don't you seal the bond with Caleb and be done with it?”
“Because I'm not comfortable with the idea. Plus, I don't know if that will work.”
“My daughter is too young to be making these kinds of decisions,” Mom interjected.
At least someone had my back. There would never be a shortage of people trying to dig into my junk drawer. Was nothing sacred? This was no better than an arranged marriage, and I would be damned if the most important moment in my life turned into a business transaction.
“Be that as it may, the best for all involved is for Samara and Caleb to bond immediately,” Haden decided.
“It's funny how you think you have say over what happens to my body,” Caleb finally spoke. He dropped his fork, reclined in his chair, and stared down his brother in defiance. “You can't make that call, and what we decide is no one's business but mine and Sam's. This is our fate we're talking about here—not yours. Our lives depend on the choice we make and we will make that choice when we see fit, so back off!”
I sat amazed and quite impressed. Caleb may have been the youngest, but he'd outgrown the bullied stages of his upbringing. Time and separation made him stronger, harder, something the brothers had trouble accepting, so Haden tried basic reasoning.
“Don't you realize if you two bond, Tobias can't interfere, and we can kill him?”
“We don't know that,” I argued. “You said no Cambion can be linked to two people at once, and bam! Check me out. Now what makes you think there isn't another loophole for me? My whole situation is a freak occurrence and this may open up new issues.”
“It'll at least buy us time to kill him,” Haden said.
“Okay, great. If—and it's a very big IF—you defeat Tobias, then what? Caleb and I would be stuck like that. Forever! It's a quick fix with long-term penalties. I don't want to be responsible for anyone's life but my own.”
“She has a point,” Michael said, balancing his braid over his top lip like a mustache. “I think the worst thing they could do right now is mate. In fact, they should stay far away from each other to avoid temptation.”
All eyes moved to Michael, who now addressed the wall and red curtains. This was a complete about-face for the man who had all but taken my measurements for my wedding dress. For him to reconsider us jumping the broom meant there was something seriously wrong.
“You have to think about this from every angle and not jump to the obvious conclusion,” he began. “Sam is the common variable. The three of you are keeping each other alive, neutral at this point. So if you two bonded, it would sever her connection with Tobias. What's to stop Tobias from killing Caleb then?”
“He can't,” Haden answered. “The separation would kill Sam. She couldn't live without her mate.”
“If Tobias wants Lilith as badly as we think he does, he won't let that happen,” Michael said. “If Caleb dies, the competition would be eliminated, but Sam won't die immediately. She'll have a brief window of opportunity to bond with Tobias. That is, if she doesn't find the idea of death before graduation agreeable. She'll be vulnerable, unchaste, and no longer immune to his draw. Grief and fear can make you desperate, and there's nothing more desperate than a Cambion with a broken heart.”
For the head case of the group, Michael dropped some serious knowledge, and the room went quiet to let it sink deep. Tobias was manipulative, but would he go to that extent? The conversation we'd had at Merchants Square returned to memory. He said as long as I remained chaste, his influence wouldn't work, not even with Lilith's aid. Things might be different if I took the plunge, which explained how Nadine had fallen victim to his whims. Had he planned this all along? I wouldn't have been surprised if he had.
“So, we agree that the bonding idea is off the table—good,” I said before anyone could object. “Now what? We still need to figure out a way to get rid of him. He's mortal now—sort of—and as you saw last night he can be harmed. We just have to find a way to do it without hurting me.”
“Right then,” Haden said. “First, I need you to tell me everything you know about this incubus. Where did he come from?”
The story was even worse the second time around. Haden sat patiently, taking mental notes and nodding at the appropriate times. When I got to the topic of Malik, he lifted his hand to stop me. “You said he attends your school? Disguised as a former student?”

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