Ember (11 page)

She scanned the room again. Everything was so normal.

Why do they have to be so normal?

It would be so much easier for her to accept if this had been some magically protected gothic mansion. There were the wings, of course, but they were there and then gone. They weren’t tangible enough. Candra needed something to prove to herself this was more than the imaginings of a fragile mind. This could all be a dream that began the day she fell from the parking garage. She could be lying in a hospital somewhere, hooked up to machines with her drug-muddled brain concocting scenarios of angels.

Candra snickered out loud at the absurdity of her insane ramblings. She was actually conceding that being under a drug-induced coma in a hospital was an attractive alternative to her life.

She headed straight to the inviting amber liquor, poured a large measure, and knocked it back in one go, feeling the fiery wetness heat her throat and spread a familiar comforting warmth through her body. She poured a second and did the same.

Whatever they thought they were protecting her from—whatever this great danger was that her father hid her from—she was exposed to it now. The room felt suddenly claustrophobic. She didn’t know these people, these things. She was utterly alone in the world. On the whole planet there wasn’t another living creature like her. Candra was certain her life as she knew it before was over, and she had no idea what the future held for her. What if these Watchers were out there looking for her, and what if the ones looking over her couldn’t protect her? There were creatures out there that wanted her dead simply because she was born.

She was out the door running before she realized she had moved. The strange, human-shaped winged creatures—angels, she reminded herself—flapped their wings, probably at her refusal to do what she was told in staying with Lofi. She feared all she really was to them was a representation of the ones they had lost. She was being watched as she ran, always watched. She ran faster through the unfamiliar streets until she came to a junction brimming with the garish yellow light of car headlights and blue swishes of color as cabs raced up and down. She could still hear the flapping and the swooping of air from their powerful wings.

Everything was blurred and overexposed. The lights of the cars streaked past too fast for Candra to define anything clearly and then slowed almost as if they weren’t moving at all.

Candra’s heart thundered in her ears, and her lungs ached from the force of keeping her body supplied with oxygen. She spun around, confused, and rammed into an unsuspecting passerby. He caught her by her upper arms to steady her, but she flinched back, gasping as a streetlight reflected off his eyes like a cat. His eyes were blood red. She blinked, and it was gone, leaving the guy grimacing at her awkwardly before he moved away, most likely thinking she was some kind of nut job.

Candra hailed the first cab she could and jumped in, vaguely aware of the driver asking her something. She babbled off her address, panting, and rested her head back against the cool pleather of the seat.

It was only after she got home and closed her bedroom door, enveloping herself in the comfort of familiar surroundings, that she allowed the full-on breakdown to hit. Brie and Gabe were still downstairs speaking in hushed whispers, but neither had openly acknowledged her return. Salty tears streaked down her face as the fear and panic of the day finally exploded inside her, and she slid down the door, feeling the hard wood at her back, reminding her that this was reality. Candra ended up sitting at the door with her arms wrapped around her knees, hiding in the consoling darkness.

Strangely, it wasn’t the angel part that bothered her, that finding out something she never actually believed really existed. It was all the loss that bit into her soul—at least confirming to her that she had one, after all. It was the betrayal, lies, and the pain and heartbreak of all the years and all the ones who had only wanted humanity. Grief hit her like a tidal wave for the human life she wanted, but would never know. She was utterly alone.

Chapter Seven

Lofi knocked, but she didn’t wait for an answer; she rarely did. Instead, her head peeked around the door to check if it was safe to come in.

“Is this a pity party for one, or can anyone join in?”

Sebastian threw the ruined shirt he had just taken off at her, but she caught it easily and entered, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Lofi frowned sadly at the now ragged looking thing while holding it up in front of her.

“What did you do, rip it off?” She balled it up in her hands before firing it into the wastepaper basket by Sebastian’s desk.

He didn’t answer. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, but he knew that wouldn’t deter her, so he simply shrugged and went to the closet to retrieve a T-shirt.

“You know, you didn’t need to run off like that,” she admonished, shifting the pillows around on his unmade bed.

Normally, Sebastian was a lot more organized, but he had been distracted lately, and it showed. He usually kept his room in order; it was his refuge when he needed to get away from everything, and that was difficult to do in clutter. He tended to enjoy refined pieces of furniture that were simple and elegant but stood the test of time. Sebastian didn’t revel in change. His room contained the basics of a bed, a free standing closet, a chest of drawers, a lamp, a desk, a trunk, and a comfortable stuffed chair. It had been that way for almost the entire three hundred years they had owned this house—the chair and the lamp being the only addition. The walls were still adorned with the original stained wood paneling as was the floor. The last thing Sebastian wanted was anything complicated in his life.

He pulled the T-shirt over his head and tugged one of the pillows from her hand, throwing it back down. “Don’t do that. Don’t pick up after me. I can do it myself.”

“Are we still talking pillows?”

He raised an eyebrow at Lofi, challenging her to say out loud what he knew she was thinking: that he messed up…again.

“Oh, come on, Sebastian, what did you think was going to happen?”

“Well, actually, I didn’t think at all. Isn’t that nearer to the point you’re getting at?”

Still watching him with a stern glare, she sat down on the bed and removed her shoes, one by one.

“What was I meant to do? Just stand there and let Ananchel attack her?” Sebastian retorted sharply, running his hand through his hair, gripping it until he thought it would pull out from the root.

“Is that what this is about with you, what happened with Ananchel?” Lofi’s brow creased skeptically. “Come on, Sebastian, I know you a little better than that. Isn’t ‘attacked’ a little dramatic? It isn’t the first time she’s used her gift on you, and I know you’ve enjoyed it on more than one occasion.”

He dropped his hands and glowered at her, daring her to continue with her line of accusation. True, he had given into Ananchel. What man wouldn’t enjoy being relentlessly pursued by a woman who could have anyone she wanted? After Brie had left, he’d needed something that took him away and let him live in a moment, that didn’t require thinking, only doing and feeling. But he had left it behind long ago.

“Isn’t it more to do with what happened with Candra after Ananchel left?”

There she was again with that eyebrow of hers rising up and silently, telling him she already had all the answers. Well, that must be so nice for her because he felt like he was swimming in a sea of horseshit. He collapsed down heavily on the opposite side of the bed and scrubbed his hand roughly over his face.

“He’s going to want her,” Sebastian said plainly. It was part of the thing that had been eating him up inside. The more he watched Candra and the more he got to know her, the more intensely he knew it to be true. She was determined, beautiful, feisty, smart, and brave. She appreciated art and music. She was kind and had a bewildering capability for acceptance and forgiveness, yet she still retained a shadow of a wild streak inside her. Sebastian feared Draven would want her for all those reasons, and that wasn’t even his biggest fear.

“You knew that would happen, Sebastian. You knew when you found her what would happen.”

“I didn’t know I would find a Neph. I was only looking for Brie.”

“And you found something else instead,” she added, picking her shoes back up and dangling the straps from her index finger. “It’s time to be honest. I know that’s not the first shirt you’ve disposed of today.” Lofi nodded in the direction of the waste basket. “I saw your back after you came from the park. You haven’t been following Brie all this time; everyone knows it.”

“I expected Draven would come for her. I expected, from the first moment, that he would want her for himself, and I’ve been trying to protect her. I’ve been trying to keep her and Brie together,” he exclaimed defensively and stood up again.

“You expected Draven to want her. I’m sure what you didn’t expect is that you would want her too.”

“That’s crazy,” Sebastian shot back, but he somehow couldn’t manage to meet her eyes. He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on roughly with his back turned to her.

Lofi moved to the door, her bare feet skipping lightly across the floor. “Is it? I saw you with her tonight. Why don’t you keep lying to yourself and see how that works out for you?”

The door opened quietly, but she didn’t leave. Instead she hesitated, and when he turned back to her, she was biting her lower lip, clearly up to something. “I have to go. We did have a guest, but I presume I dallied with you so long that she’s already left.”

“You brought her here?”

“I thought it would be good for Candra to see what we are now, rather than judge us on what we were,” Lofi stated with a knowing smile.

Sebastian felt the panic rise from the pit of his stomach and twist like ropes around his chest. He knew that, in Candra’s eyes, he would go from obtrusive to reprehensible. “You told her!”

“Not everything. I’m thinking she’s probably about halfway home by now, but don’t worry. She’ll get there safely.”

“I have to go,” he barked out, snatching the door out of her grip to storm past.

“Yeah, you don’t want her
at all,”
Lofi called after him sardonically.

He was already at the bottom stair. He’d stayed away as long as he could. Separation was becoming problematic.

Candra cried until her eyes burned, her head hurt, and snot dripped from her nose. Great big, gut-wrenching sobs that forced her body into submission, until she was lying fetal, curled up on the floor. She guessed she must have passed out at some point, because she awoke still twisted up like a kitten seeking heat and comfort from herself. She groaned loudly at her first attempt to move when she unwrapped her arms from her knees. Every muscle and joint was stiff. It felt as if she had been pounded over and over with a massive weight; the ache stretched up her spine, shooting pain into her head like fine needles stabbing her behind her eyes. Every tiny movement was as if threadlike wires were slicing through her insides, especially in her brain. She rubbed her eyes brutally and leaned back against the door for support, waiting for her body to come back to life so she could stagger as far as the bathroom.

“I can help you with that.”

Candra’s hands wrenched away from her face, and she was sure her stomach jumped up into her arid mouth.

“What the…” She forced out the words while her eyes tried to adjust to the darkened room. For a moment, all she could see was dancing lights from rubbing her eyes too hard. “What are you, like, working on your psycho murderer impression?” With extreme trepidation, she pushed herself up from the floor. “Because, let me tell you, you do it well.”

Sebastian didn’t move from where he was sitting casually on the floor by the window. His knees were bent up to his chest, and the fingers of one hand held the other around his wrist lightly. He wasn’t looking at her.

Candra watched a small rounded crystalline stone slipping through his fingers. It caught the dim light coming in the window and sparkled like diamond dust. It hurt her eyes, and she had to look away.

“I said I can help you,” he repeated coolly.

“I don’t need your help,” Candra retorted sharply. She wished she could be a bigger person, but she was still hurting at how easily he’d dismissed her earlier. She was never one for holding grudges, but with Sebastian she had been repeatedly burned. He was complicated and infuriating. Yet she still harbored a deep craving to unravel his mysteries.

“Your mouth is saying no, but I can tell your body is aching,” he purred, and Candra snapped her head up to see him run his thumb in a circle over the small stone. He was smirking and biting his lip, working the stone with his long fingers. She didn’t know if he was being intentionally suggestive, or if she was still hot and bothered from earlier.

“I said I’m fine.” Candra’s voice was husky. She was sure it was from thirst, but she mentally kicked herself, knowing he would take it otherwise. She took out some pajamas and walked slowly toward the bathroom, holding her head high and leaving Sebastian sitting in darkness.

Hoping it would ease her apparent hangover, she turned on the shower and allowed the room to fill with swirling clouds of steam before she stepped under the heated spray and let it run over her skin, easing the knots in the back of her neck. Immediately she started to feel better, and she took longer than necessary washing her hair, giving the heat time to penetrate her tired muscles. When she finished, she dressed and splashed cold water on her reddened face to alleviate the lingering puffiness from crying.

If she expected him to be gone when she came out, she was disappointed. As always, Sebastian did the opposite of what she expected. He hadn’t moved at all; in fact he didn’t look like he was going anywhere.

“You left,” he accused.

She continued what she was doing, putting her shoes away and throwing her used clothes into the hamper in her closet, without the need for any light now that her eyes had adjusted. After all the years she’d lived here, she knew her way around perfectly well. It was late, and she was tired, too tired for this conversation.

“So did you.” She didn’t raise her eyes and felt rather than saw him stand to approach her.

“You can’t just go off on your own. What if something happened to you?”

Candra closed the door a fraction harder than was needed and brushed past him to pull the covers back from her bed, settling some of the throw pillows at the foot. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself—”

Suddenly Sebastian’s hand was on top of hers, gripping the comforter, and a surge of heat rushed up Candra’s arm. Instantly her brain dismissed it as an angel thing. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but she didn’t entirely like it either.

“You can’t go off on your own. We can’t protect you if you refuse to be protected. I’m sure you don’t want to hear this, but you are far too inquisitive for your own good.”

“Then why bother keeping things from me?” Candra pressed. “I’m not going to co-operate until I know everything.”

He snorted. “Even then you won’t co-operate.”

“Probably not,” Candra agreed shortly.

“You don’t need to know yet.” Sebastian finished with an air of finality to his tone.

Candra pressed her lips together defiantly to keep from letting the expletives she wanted to scream at him from escaping. The pale light drained the color from his skin, leaving him ashen. He looked tired. Was it her? she asked herself. Was she slowly draining everyone around her? Would everyone who came near her or cared for her end up a withered husk? She twisted her hand out of his grip and pointedly returned to fixing the bed.

“Talk to me, then.”

“I can’t.” He withdrew back into the shadows in corner of the room.

“Why? I have a right to know everything,” she demanded, struggling to keep from sounding like a whining child.

She heard his bleak chuckle echo around the room, taunting her with its lyrical sound. She wanted to insist he leave her bedroom and possibly her life too, but also knew insisting would be useless, since Sebastian did nothing that he didn’t want to do.

“What is so damn funny?” Candra ground out bitterly, trying to focus on the phantom in her room.

“You have no rights, little girl. You have duties and obligations. You have a future that will be influenced, and maybe even decided, by beings that do not know you or care to know you.”