Authors: Jaime Reed
Fading Amber (17 page)
“How do you think Samara will handle knowing what you made her do? You forget who your master is and you underestimate me. Both are very stupid moves, Lilith. Now where is Tobias!” he demands.
Before I can respond, the wind picks up, drawing our attention to the sky. With Capone distracted, I turn and rush toward the field. The wind grows stronger, pushing back the tree limbs and flattening the grass in the forest bed. It moves closer in a dark miasma cloaking around me.
“Lilith!” Capone calls behind me, but I ignore him.
The storm condenses and solidifies as it settles to the ground. Tobias steps forward, his body still taking shape, the black mist swirling in a moving galaxy in human form.
I race into his arms, seeking refuge, an escape. This is my last chance, but our window is brief. Instantly, we're surrounded on all sides in the field. Purple lights float in the air, watching us.
Haden speaks first, closing in at our right. He points a pistol at Tobias's head. “Give us a reason to shoot you. Please do.”
“You messed with the wrong family, demon!” Michael moves to our left, tossing a long, jagged blade from hand to hand.
Tobias steps In front of me. “You can't have her, and you can't kill me. What can you do?”
“Improvise.” Capone answers and lifts the longbow.
Tobias spins around and faces Capone. “An arrow? It's gonna take more than that to get rid of me. I'm immortal.”
“Not . . . quite.” Capone pulls back the string of the bow. One eye levels with the arrow head, which points directly to my heart.
Tobias jumps. “Are you crazy? Stop!”
“Caleb, what are you doing?” Michael yells.
I looked to the man on the left. He called him Caleb. He doesn't know what's happening.
Tobias chuckles nervously. “You're bluffing. You wouldn't kill your mate.”
“Unlike you, I'm not afraid of dying. And I'd rather have her die than to be with you.”
A scream cradles in my throat as I watch Capone's posture straighten. His bent arm lines perfectly with his shoulder. He isn't bluffing.
“I'll make it quick. Don't move. Don't even breathe,” Capone warns.
His words, this entire situation is all too familiar. The events on Halloween night return to me: the smell of wet grass, the oil in the hot cocoa, glittery fairy wings catching on the breeze, and the candy apple resting on Samara's head. And the arrow. Samara trusted Caleb's aim, trusted him to never hurt her. But this wasn't Caleb.
With a pluck of his finger, he lets the arrow fly and I close my eyes and await my fate.
“No!” A voice yells just as a hand shoves me to the right. I stumble and something whizzes past my ear. Then the woods are quiet. My eyes fly open and the first thing I see is Capone lowering his bow. He smirks wickedly as the target in front of him stumbles.
Tobias kneels a foot away from me, gaping at the arrow lodged in his chest. For a millisecond, I see the proud look on his face. Human weapons can't kill him, and he finds Capone's feeble attempt insulting. But that look vanishes the second the burning begins. It rushes in like a ball of fire, dropping all three of us to our knees simultaneously.
I've felt this torture before, and in this instant, everything comes to light with startling clarity. The arrow. It was laced, a poison dart covered in olive oil. Not even Capone had anticipated the crippling pain that came with that one strike.
I keep my focus on Tobias. He's curled on his side, clutching his throat. His free hand pounds into the ground, his fingers pull clumps of soil out of the earth. He uses what strength he has left to drag himself toward me, but that soon gives way and he collapses. Wide, glassy eyes stare out into somewhere none of us can see, a place we will soon follow. His face contorts and twists as blood trickles from his mouth.
Fire eats through my bones and pokes holes in my lungs. There is air all around me, it passes through my hair, it dances across my cheeks, it carries the smell of rain and burning flesh to my nostrils, but I can't inhale a single draft. My chest caves in and my heart feels as though it is about to explode.
“Caleb, get Sam out of here now!” A rough voice calls in the distance. The English accent tells me that it's Haden, but it's thicker than usual, the words running into each other in frenzy.
“He's weak, but still alive. We have to finish this now!” Capone yells. He's close, somewhere next to me. I try to reach out to him, but I can't move my hands.
“Not until we find a way to kill him for good. He's disabled right now and we'll make sure he stays that way. The oil will buy us more time. Get Sam home. Call her mum and tell her she's safe,” Michael says. More footsteps crunch the grass.
“I'm not leavingâ”
“You can't know where we take his body, Caleb! You and Sam are still connected to him. We'll take care of this. Now go!” Haden's voice thunders through the trees, carrying his command deeper into the forest.
A hand tucks under me and lifts me off the ground and solid arms cradle me like a child, a dying bride. I open my eyes and behold the gentle face of my groom, my murderer. He smells so sweet and the lilac shade has cooled to a deep royal purple.
“Lilith,” he rasps. “You have to feed from me now, or Tobias will drag you down with him. You need my energy. I have enough for the both of us.”
I turn my head away from his mouth. “You knew, didn't you? You knew he would jump in the path of the arrow.”
“It's what I would've done if the tables were turned, so yeah. It was a risk, but it was worth it.”
“What do you want, Capone?” I ask.
“What I've always wanted. Even after all the shit you put us through, I still want you. You're my mate and Caleb loves Samara, which only compounds what I feel. That hold you say Tobias has on you, you have on me.” He turns my head to look him in the eyes. “But I won't have you compromise my vessel again. I've been miserable for too long and Samara's the only thing that brings him joy. Whether you want to admit it or not, Sam's love for him overrides anything you might feel. Nadine is gone and her hold on you is gone with it, including Tobias's. Sam is safe with Caleb. No other male will claim her but him, and I will kill anyone who tries, you understand?”
I know he means every word, and that truth hurts worse than the poison eating through my bones. I'm being torn in two and I have to choose quickly. Life with Capone or death with Tobias. To thrive or to burn.
“If I agree, I want something in return.” I look over to Tobias who lay still on the grass. Haden and Michael tower over him in triumph, weapons at the ready. “Never tell Samara what happened here today or what happened on Halloween. She won't remember anything when she revives and she can never know.”
He closes his eyes and nods. “You protect Samara, I protect Caleb. Once they are bonded, she might not be so quick to put herself in danger.”
He doesn't wait for me to nod; he knows my answer, knows I have nowhere else to go. He's all I have now and I'm at his mercy.
“You're not so different from me. Our lives depend on Samara. Yours more than mine. Remember that.” His fingers brush the hair away from my face and his lips press against mine.
Electricity passes into my mouth and the familiar flavor of life crackles on my wet tongue, a sweetness I almost forgot. It slides down smooth and coats over my body like a salve, and the sensation of falling overtakes me. I can still see the violet glow of his eyes as I close mine.
So bright, so peaceful . . .
15
H
ow did I let this happen?
ow did I let this happen?
I asked that question twenty times while this horror show played to its conclusion, and got no decent answer. The credits rolled, the theater was empty, the ushers swept up the fallen popcorn, and I was still seated in a state of petrification.
Hot tears flooded my vision and burned my skin as they ran down my cheeks. Gut-churning nausea was kicking in and I just wanted to die. No, scratch that, I wanted this psychotic demon bitch living inside me to die. I couldn't remember being so mad in my life. All the weeks of grieving over Caleb; the nights I prayed for his recovery came back to scorn me. Worst of all, I'd known what Lilith was capable of.
You tried to kill my boyfriend. Are you crazy? I took care of you and you do this to me?
Lilith jittered and crawled under my skin like a worm, but I closed it out. She'd lost all her special privileges, explicitly my compassion. This betrayal in all its potency spiked my system with poison, killing any ounce of kindness or respect for her life. To be fair, what's to stop her from trying again? She'd always be there, biding her time until I lowered my guard, and I couldn't lock myself in a sealed bunker of depression for the rest of my life like Nadine had. This would never end, and Lilith would only play me again if I let her. A rush of relief washed over me and I felt light with the soothing knowledge that in one gulp it would be all over.
“Sam! Are you all right?” Caleb said through the door.
I froze. I completely forgot that he was still there, but then this
was
his hotel room. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't speak and if I kept quiet, he'd think there was something wrong. Knowing him, he would try to stop me, save me from myself or some other nonsense. I didn't want to be saved right now. I wanted blood; I wanted the head of my enemy on my dashboard. Since I couldn't have that, this was as close as I would get.
was
his hotel room. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't speak and if I kept quiet, he'd think there was something wrong. Knowing him, he would try to stop me, save me from myself or some other nonsense. I didn't want to be saved right now. I wanted blood; I wanted the head of my enemy on my dashboard. Since I couldn't have that, this was as close as I would get.
Murder was on the agenda this evening, but my throat, that stubborn accomplice, refused to cooperate. My cheeks puffed out, spit pooled in my mouth, making me drool, but my throat wouldn't open or flex. As a devout eater and drinker, I never had to consciously will food to go down, not even that nasty medicine I had to take as a kid that tasted like bubble gum. The pounding on the door startled me, but not even the element of surprise loosened my throat.
“What are you doing in there?” he demanded, his energy leaking under the door, through the fibers of the wood to touch me. Though jumbled, those violent pulses conveyed anger, fear, and named me as the source.
Suddenly, in a type of electric jolt, realization struck and presented a sobering account of what I was doing, what I was
about
to do and what was still in my mouth. I couldn't do this, not to him and certainly not to myself, whoever she was anymore.
about
to do and what was still in my mouth. I couldn't do this, not to him and certainly not to myself, whoever she was anymore.
I bent over the sink and spat out all the oil, then dipped my mouth under the nozzle and rinsed repeatedly. I used one of the tiny sample packets of tooth paste to help wash away any evidence of oil.
The knocking grew more persistentâpolice drug raid styleâmaking the wood of the door wobble from the impact. “Sam, can you hear me?”
“Yeah, I'll be out in a second.” I washed my hands and face before going out to meet him.
I opened the door and found Caleb outside watching me carefully, looking for blood, some self-inflicted wound, or an alien probe. “What's wrong?” he asked.
“Lilith poisoned you on Halloween and Capone tried to kill me with an arrow,” I answered in one breath.
It took a few times of repeating it for him to finally get it. “I would remember something like that, Sam.”
“Not if Capone doesn't want you to remember.” I told him the vision from beginning to end. I watched his expression morph into confusion, then surprise and rage; it was like watching a rare flower come into bloom then quickly shrivel. It was as remarkable as much as it was tragic.
When I finished, he leaned against the wall and stared straight ahead, his face wiped clean of emotion. Caleb may bug me at timesâokay, ninety percent of the timeâbut the one thing I couldn't stand, what I absolutely loathed was his silence. It was a slow, agonizing death that I couldn't bear.
“Say something,” I begged.
“What were you doing in the bathroom just now?” The question made me wish he'd kept silent. When I didn't answer, he said, “Capone was going crazy. I was a second away from busting the door down.”
“I had a bottle of olive oil in my bra.”
He didn't need a calculator to add things up, and the result made his eyes blaze with fury. With frightening speed, he crowded my personal space, forcing me to retreat to the bathroom. He kept coming then caught my cheeks in his hand and studied me carefully. “Did you swallow any of it?”
It was hard to talk with him holding my face like that, so I shook my head.
“Are you lying?” he asked, his voice thick with fear.
I shook my head again then he dragged his trembling hands around my neck. He looked like he wanted to choke me, but he just traced my jawline with his thumbs. “Get undressed and take a shower.”
The randomness of the command threw me off. “Whatâ”
“Shower, wash your hair, brush your teeth, scrub every trace of oil off you. I'll wait outside.” Caleb left the bathroom with a slam that almost broke the door.
I didn't know what else to do, so I removed my clothes then climbed into the shower. I followed his instructions to the letter, lathering, rinsing, and scrubbing until my skin was red and raw. To say Caleb was livid did him a disfavor and I deserved every ounce of his wrath. Under the hot, needling spray, I felt too weak to do anything but absorb the current of rage aimed at me.
Once I dried off, I wrapped up in a fluffy white towel, then opened the door. Caleb stood against the wall by the bedroom door, staring at the ceiling with his hands behind his back.
Before I could speak or even step into the room, he said, “Memories are weird. It's hard to tell which ones are yours; what's food and what's real experience. Michael has trouble sorting out the two, so he blocks it out with alcohol and whatever he can get his hands on. I've seen what it does to himâthat's why I don't drink, but I can really use one right now.”
“You remember what happened?” I clicked off the bathroom light and stepped into the bedroom.
He nodded. “I guess Capone figured there was no point in holding back now. Let me see if I've got this right. Lilith takes over your body and Tobias snatches you out of school in that Malik guy's truck. Capone rams the truck off the road, shoots Tobias with a poisoned arrow, and then my brothers hide his body. You and I go back to normal, having no clue of what happened. Now Tobias's soul is possessing innocent men, shooting people, and kidnapping young girls because he wants his body back. Just a typical holiday in Williamsburg, huh?” He rubbed his eyes in a circular motion. “I really could've done without knowing this, Sam, I really could've.” After a deep breath, he asked, “You feeling better?”
“No. Having a hard time getting this knife out of my back,” I replied. “Lilith should have her own slogan. Sentient beings: we put the âsuck' in succubus.”
Caleb looked up at me, and in that moment he looked old and tired. “You're really that shocked? Demons and Cambions prey on vulnerable victims. You've seen what the draw can do; perfectly sane people turn into mindless slaves, risking death for just one taste of what we offer. Everyone has their weaknesses. Tobias happens to be hers.”
“That weakness almost got us killed and she took my memories away to cover her tracks!”
“Lilith knows you pretty well. She knew what you would try to do if you found out. You have a bad temper and you shoot first and ask questions later,” he replied.
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was he actually defending her? “You don't know that.”
“You just proved her right! Just now in the bathroom!” His face was turning red; his eyes brimmed with tears too stubborn to fall. “How could you do something like that? How could you hurt yourself and not give a shit about how it would affect the people around you, including me?
Especially
me.”
Especially
me.”
He sure knew how to put a negative slant on things. “I had to get rid of Lilith. I figured you would understand, seeing as you're the one that she almost killed! She took over and was ready to skip town, and who knows what would've happened if you didn't stop her.”
There was something very unsettling about his laugh. It was a low, deep rumble in his chest, ripe with derision. “Every decision you make affects me, more than anyone else. I'd figured you would've gotten that by now, but obviously you haven't.” He pushed off the wall and stalked forward. “You really think you're helping anyone by taking your own life? What do you think my reaction would be? 'Cause you know I've never had to mourn over a woman I cared about, so that would be a new and exciting experience for me.”
“I didn't go through with it, okay? So calm down. It wasn't about you.”
“That's the point!” he snapped. “You weren't thinking about me, or your parents, or anyone else that might care about you.”
“Why should I?” I yelled. “I'm the victim hereâno one else is going through this shit but me! No one else is being hijacked and used as a hand puppet. Everyone has their petty lives and their petty dramas while I'm fighting for my soul. You say you don't like being manipulated, well guess what, neither do I. I've been dropped into a freaky ass world full of death and half explanations. I've lied to every single person I know, including myself. I don't know who I am anymore!” I squatted on the floor and screamed into my palms.
The need for retribution was still raging. I wanted my pound of flesh and I felt cheated. I screamed and screamed until my throat burned, until I was empty of the poison in my veins, empty of sound, empty of thought. I wanted to claim and make a new home in that white noise that came with nothing. But Caleb, my
sweet, worrisome
Caleb, wouldn't let me.
sweet, worrisome
Caleb, wouldn't let me.
I felt his hands scoop under my arms to pull me up, and then he wrapped his arms around me. My head rested against his chest and I listened to the quick flutter of his heartbeat. We twisted from side to side in a gentle rocking motion that made me drowsy.
Resting his chin on the top of my head, he said, “You're Samara Nicole Marshall, esquire, barista, bookworm, and Shakespearean Tae Bo master. Fellow sugar junkie and perpetual smartass. My main squeeze. My best friend.”
This was the second time in a week I'd cried in front of him, and it wasn't pretty.
He must've noticed that too, because he asked, “Aw hell, are you crying, again? Please don't cry. The âfighting and cussing' Sam I can handle, but the âsad and weepy' Sam is beyond my capability.”
“I can't help it.” I sniffled and wiped my tears on his shirt.
“No seriously, try. We're linked. If you start crying, then I'm gonna cry, and then it's just gonna get weird.”
I gripped the lapel of his shirt and laughed. He held my face and wiped my tears with his thumbs. His expression changed to a more serious one. “Don't ever do that to me again, Sam. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I answered. “I know it was stupid, I just had a weak moment. I was overdue for a meltdown, don't you think? You had yours; why can't I have mine?”
“Yeah. It's been a really screwed up year and you've taken all of it like a champ. But you don't have to go through it alone. I know everything you're going throughâI can feel it. We need to trust each other completely now, no matter what. I'll make a deal with you. I'll cut back on the feeding if you let this go. Just let this one thing slide.”
I shook my head. “It's not that easy.”
“It's not that easy for me to cut my diet, but I'll do it for you. Capone needs his mate as much as I need mine.” He pulled away and held my shoulders at arm's length. Stooping down with watery eyes leveled to mine, he said, “Listen to me. I'm not trying to be sweet or romantic or feed you some line to get into your pants. I'm not some kid with a crush and I'm not whipped. This is a physical and literal fact. I. Can't. Live. Without. You.”
I wasn't sure how to take those words, unclear if they were a form of endearment or condemnation. Both meanings made my pulse skip and the look he offered me, stripped bare of pretense and sarcasm, managed to steal my air supply.
We stared at each other, silently debating what would happen next. Warmth spread over my shoulders and wrapped me in a cozy blanket of his power. I gave in to the intoxicating feeling and allowed my knees to go weak with the complete understanding of what it meant. I didn't want to fight anymore, not with him and not over something so easy to fix. I just wanted him to hold me. I wanted to kiss him and fall asleep next to him.
We had reached that agreement at the same time and sealed our contract with a kiss that could've gone on for hours, days, eons, if our bodies hadn't plotted mutiny. My lips parted and slanted over his, finding that perfect, familiar fit. His tongue plunged inside and on contact, my stomach dropped.
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