Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2) Page 4

  I clamp my hand over my slacked-jaw. My stomach heaves, and I force myself to swallow down the sudden urge to spew chunks.

  Olar emerges out of the dark corner, coming up behind Johann. “That’s not Nathan,” he snarls. “Stop fucking around and tell us what his next move is!” He’s far more intimidating than Nathan with his dark and deadly voice, forcing me to believe if Johann doesn’t give him what he wants he will kill him or something worse.

  Johann shrieks. My ears ring. Whatever’s going on in his head must be worse than him digging his nails into it. Black blood stains his fingertips and rolls down his forehead as he digs and claws at himself. “I was only required to get the girl. I know nothing else. I swear! Please get out of my head!” he wails, agony bleeding through his tempered words.

  Infuriated, Olar spits, “Not happening. I know you know more.”

  At their mercy, Johann begs, “Nathan, please let me go? Make him stop.”

  Nathan rubs his hand across his chin; it then slides down to his neck before falling to his side. “You tried to take what’s mine. Unforgivable. You knew who she belonged to when you saw me walk in the office with her. You even went out of your way to observe her family, learn their speech, their ways, and pose as her father to further your goal of her leaving with you.” Anger sweeps over his once calm eyes, swirling them midnight. His deep voice stings in its lowered tone, causing him to sound like someone else. “And you want me to let you go? Just like that?” he asks with a snap of his fingers.

  Johann drops to his knees, begging, “Please?”

  Nathan pulls his shoulders back and his neck hardens as he drones, “When have you ever known me to let someone go who’s crossed me? Better yet, tried to cross me?”

  “Never,” Johann counters, now calm, accepting of his fate.

  “Then why would I start with you?” Nathan regards in a demonic tone that scares me.

  Johann’s heavy breaths cause spittle to spray past his lips as he pulls his nails from his skull. His arms fall to his sides, fists pressed to the tile. He glowers at Nathan, a wishful threat in his squinted stare.

  Olar sits on the floor beside a cringing Johann.

  “What?” Johann sneers, turning up his nose.

  Olar’s tantalizing smirk is as amused as it is threatening; his sharp teeth sink into his pink, pierced tongue. “Nothing,” he says, shoving Johann. “Jus’ chillin.’” From the force of the push, Johann falls on his butt. He drags his gaze away from Olar as he wipes his sticky hands on his slacks.

  I find Nathan leaning against the wall across from them. The soft light in his midnight eyes stands out in the shadows. His face is vacant of all expression as he just stares.

  “Just get the shit over with, Nate.” Johann’s gaze flicks to me and then away.

  “Don’t entice me,” Nathan intones. “I’ve had enough of that. Plus, you’re only a pawn.”

  Johann jumps to his feet, racing for me, moving faster than Olar can grab him.

  Fearful, I reflex, blasting him. A warp of fire bursts from my hands and smashes into Johann’s chest. He flies back, feet lifting off the floor, and slams into the tile wall behind him. Dropping into a squat with his back against the concrete, the hole my attack created slowly heals. Johann groans, fingers swiping over the new addition to his chest.

  “Enough fun for one day, Johann. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Nathan pulls himself from the wall, smiling with his sharpened teeth evenly aligned. “If you’re lucky, rather, if someone else is as dumb as you, you might have a playmate.”

  Johann stands and lurches across the floor to the pipe, and as if he were eager to do so, he jumps up and grabs hold of it.

  Olar stalks past him. The resentful expression in his eyes shows he doesn’t want to leave him alive. To confirm my assumption, he throws a punch in Johann’s stomach.

  I turn for the door as Nathan makes it to my side. Even with the threats, the intimidation, Johann’s gloss-eyed gaze still assaults my body. “You cannot leave me in here like this,” he yells when Roseland opens the door.

  Nathan whips around, anger filling him in an instant. My hand shoots out and grabs his. He instantly calms; rage sucked away as though it never existed. Nathan’s face irritably contorts as he looks down at our clasped hands. He hates it when I control him, a part of him, a big part of him, likes the beast and despises containment. But it’s required. He’d be angry with himself if he spazzed out.

  The grind of Nathan’s gritting teeth screech in my ears. He drags his gaze up to Johann. “I’m making it as difficult for you as the person who sent you is trying to make it for me. You chose who you wanted to follow, and along with the others who choose the same, death will not come easy,” Nathan promises without ire.

  I turn to the door before him, heading from, what I now call, the torture room.

  Johann’s cusses and hate-filled words fly at our backs until the door shuts.

  Once again, Nathan takes his role as being the hardest person to read in my life. I was expecting them to kill him too. I’m supposed to be used to people coming after me by now. Since Roehl, it’s been happening a lot, but I will never get used to someone using my friends or family to try to kidnap me. This guy, unlike the others I could easily see through, was superb.

  Nathan hooks his arm around my neck and in my ear, he whispers rhythmic lyrics in his language. I pick up on some words he uses often, but with others, they sound so good I dare not interrupt to ask their meaning. Like the ones he’s using today. Long ‘A’s, hard ‘R’s, and the ‘W’s that sound like a mix between Y, U, and A, lace the accent of his linguistics. It’s settling in a way that lifts the weight of our world off my shoulders, and I let a smile steal my face.

  Olar and Roseland follow Nathan and me to his room. If I could pay for a moment alone with him, I would. I’m craving for some of his attention without interruptions or someone with their eyes on us.

  I sit in the dark gray chair Nathan bought for his room and pull my knees to my chest. From his nightstand, I grab a magazine I left here this weekend and flip through it as they chat.

  “What happened in there?” Roseland asks, twisting the computer chair around before sliding it between his legs. He hugs the back of the chair to his chest as he sits.

  Heading for the bathroom, Nathan throws over his shoulder, “Johann showed up at Sparks’ school, posing as her father. He was going to kill her parents and take off with her in the morning.”

  “I suppose you got that bit of information when you got into his head,” Roseland says.

  “Got into his head?” I question.

  “Yeah, I did,” Nathan says, leaving the bathroom. He leans against the TV stand, adding, “I had Olar cover the pain.” He aborts his sentence, watching Olar pass him to his bathroom. “You do know there’s another bathroom in the hall.”

  “Yes. But I don’t want to miss the conversation,” Olar retorts, closing the door behind him.

  “You can hear through walls, bro.” Nathan looks at me, throwing his thumb toward the closed door. I shake my head, letting off to just let it go. Olar doesn’t care about anything he does or anyone’s personal space. The world is his oyster. Looking through his phone, Nathan concludes, “It wasn’t going to happen, but what’s to say he wouldn’t try to kill her parents. Couldn’t have that.”

  “I don’t know now,” I grump, recalling the hard time Dad’s been giving me.

  “You don’t mean that, Ladybug,” Nathan mocks.

  “What happened to you?” Roseland asks Nathan. His brows pull together and he drags in a breath as though Nathan’s choice to leave Johann alive would draw on heavier consequences.

  Nathan lifts his gaze to Roseland. “I didn’t want to,” he emits, the humor he’d used with me gone.

  “Since when?”

  “It’s greater than that.” Nathan flicks his gaze up to the ceiling as if he were reading his next words in the paint. “Roehl’s testing me. He knows I’ll drop each of them and send them b
ack to him gift wrapped. I don’t want to give him what he wants.”

  “So, what? We hold them hostage in the let out until. . .?” Roseland asks with a continuing motion to his hand.

  “I’m not sure yet. It depends on when the next one comes.”

  Olar swings open the bathroom door; its whack against the wall breaks into his words. “I think we should drop them by twos. Make them kill each other, and we’ll watch.”

  “Eh, I think I’ll skip that,” I say, cringing.

  Feeling Nathan stare a hole through me, I shift my gaze to him. He nods for me to come over and without hesitation, I go. Before him, I stand, awaiting instruction; if he will make the first move or should I.

  He grabs my hips, pulling me closer. “You were taking too long,” he groans, pushing his arms around me. The bond has us both messed up. Nathan just has a more tamable hold on his bonding side-effects with me. “Turn off your brain, Sparks,” he says, and then leans down and kisses me. I rise on my toes, brain shutting down and my body coming alive with a swelling passion that’s been expanding in me and never subsiding.

  My tongue grazes his lip, and he brushes it with his. The door to the bedroom closes, and the overbearing awareness I was holding from others being in the room fades. Coddling in the freedom, I take in a lungful of the Nathan scented air. My arms curl around his neck as he lifts me by my thighs, making our difference in height a non-issue.

  “I miss you,” he says.

  I blush. “Me, too.”

  “I didn’t want to kill him. Because you were there, I couldn’t. I wasn’t just going to turn him into nothing and I didn’t want you to see what I had planned.”

  I lean down to kiss him, but stop halfway to his lips to say, “I don’t care.” As I’m closing the remaining distance his door whips open.

  Nathan lowers me to the floor, and Little Nathan rattles off, “I’m sorry. I probably should have knocked. Justin and Taylor are going at it heavy! We need your help!”

  delighted rejection

  The basement is trashed. The ceiling lights now hang by their cords, flickering as they swing in the breezeless air. They smashed the coffee table that was originally on the rug; maybe from someone being slammed into it. I step over shreds of thick thread and broken concrete. The kitchen side of the basement is in shambles: the counters, fridge, stove . . . They’re all a pile of unrecognizable splintered wood and bent steel.

  Natalia stands near the wall the TV once occupied, yelling for Taylor and Justin to stop. They’ve separated, but lethal expressions dare the other to make the next move. I hurry to Natalia’s side and wrap my arm around her trembling shoulders. She squeezes me tightly as Nathan crosses the floor to his sister and her mate.

  Skin flushed a deep red and hair slicked back with ends sharp and maybe poisonous, Taylor’s lost control and Justin got the worst end of it. She’s been doing that a lot lately, something about what Roehl did to her. I’ve yet to get the full understanding of it because we rarely talk to Taylor, and to not rile Nathan, we don’t talk about her either.

  Justin stands his ground. He’s the only one other than Nathan, who can take Taylor’s blows. In full Hybrid form, his liquid black hair hangs down his back in the braided ponytail he wears. His eyes that are darker than night stand out against his pale, powder-like skin.

  Hybrid Sephlems have to change their appearance like Burdened’s, but they’re not as dangerous. Not nearly as dangerous or as strong. Justin is the only one able to take on Taylor because their bonding gives them shared strength. He’s been good about not fighting back with her when she spazzes, but things may have gotten out of hand today.

  Nathan stands before them, shoulders slumped and head tilted uninterestedly to the side. “What happened?” he asks.

  “Nathan, please talk to her? She has lost it,” Natalia nervously begs. Her fear shudders through her body, vibrating my arms. I rub her hands and let her squeeze mine as hard as she needs to. Since Mr. Newcombs’ passing, her settlement in life has diminished. She’s jumpy and more alert than the other Sephlems I’ve met. I worry about her. I want her to know that whatever she needs I’m here; even if that means my silence and reassuring her that everything will be okay, even though I don’t know that for sure.

  Nathan nods to acknowledge her but doesn’t look in her direction. “Justin, calm down and tell me what happened.”

  Justin shifts his weight, body still crouching, ready to attack. “Something’s wrong with her,” he rushes airy and without a voice in his Hybrid form.

  Nathan seems as if he wants to, but he doesn’t look at Taylor as he asks, “What’d you do?”

  Taylor morphs, and her complexion takes back its tanned tone. Justin rolls his shoulders and takes on his preferred appearance. Throwing her hands to her chest, Taylor cries, “He’s calling me, Nathan.” Stepping toward him, she adds, “I spazzed out and Justin took a few blows.” Her hurtful, downcast gaze gradually rises to Justin. “I’m sorry.” He gives her a single nod as the darkness leaves his eyes and color fills his cheeks.

  Nathan moves from Taylor’s path. “Look at the basement,” he blurts. “Justin obviously took more than a few blows.”

  Taylor veers to approach him, arms extended in front of her, requesting his embrace.

  Nathan’s head falls in a bow. A mixture of disbelief and dissatisfaction is thick in his eyes as they rise and peer at Taylor through his lashes. He slowly shakes his head, murmuring, “Taylor, if you value your mate’s life, you won’t come any closer.”

  Halting mid-step, Taylor stumbles. “You would kill my mate because of what happened?” Her shock creeps in her words, causing them to rise and fall accusatorially.

  Nathan’s eyes swirl as dark as midnight. Natalia’s grip on my hand tightens as we watch him face Taylor, full-bodied. “No.” He corrects, “I’ll kill you.” His most direct attack against her yet.

  We gasp, all sucked dry by his promise.

  Taylor drops to her knees, clenched fists pressed to her chest. Sobbing, she holds herself as if a knife-like chill is slicing through her again and again. I can’t imagine the hurt her brother’s words have on her. The relationship they once had disappearing like passed time; her feeling it slip away from her ounce by ounce.

  “Nathan!” Natalia shouts, startling me. “That is your sister!” Her rage heats her face, causing crimson to stain her young cheeks. “You don’t mean that, son.” She chokes on her words. “You. You can’t.” She rushes to Taylor’s mewling body. “You need to help her, Nathan. She can’t fight this on her own.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut as Nathan’s anger bombards me. Sometimes, his rage is so powerful it’s paralyzing. My breaths are deep and slow, waiting for the feeling to pass. Stepping over blocks of splintered wood, scraps of the couch, and pieces that fell from the ceiling, I meet Nathan and slide my fingers across his palm to the empty spaces between his fingers. I seal them and fill him with a comfort I know will calm him down.

  “It’s okay,” I tell him.

  He looks down at me, eyes swirling green-brown. Turning away, he breaks our grasp, rejecting it. “I can’t.”

  “Nathan!” Natalia yells.

  He halts, grimacing.

  “You will help your sister. Consider all she’s done for you! You’ve always helped family! What happened?” she barks.

  Nathan whips around, anger deep in his reddening face. “She happened!” He points at Taylor. “She was supposed to be my family! She messed up. She betrayed me.” His voice lowers to a wicked utterance. “She has done a lot for me, and so did the person she used to help cross me. But you don’t see me walking around here helping him, or calling him family.” He looks down at Taylor crying out in pain. “Go to him, Taylor!” he shouts at her. “It’s your debt to pay!” Backing away from them, he pivots but stops when Natalia’s tears fall.

  “Nathan, I cannot believe you.” She kneels down, trying to help Taylor from the floor.

  It hurts him, seeing his mother cry and s
truggle, but he doesn’t move. Little Nathan rushes over, pulling Taylor to her feet.

  Nathan turns away from them. “I’m leaving. Gotta get back to watching out for these assholes coming to take Sparks, thanks to Taylor’s feebleness.”

  “Nathan!” Natalia barks. “If you do not help your sister, I will ban you.”

  What the hell does that mean?

  She straightens her spine, adding, “And it will be you who we will no longer refer to as family.”

  Despair moves stealthily over us. “You will ban me?” Nathan asks in a flat monotone. Then the anger thrashes through him, forcing him to shout, “Me! Taylor put Tracey’s life on the line, my life on the line for her selfish needs!” He points from his sister to me with an angry thrust of his index and middle fingers. “She risked my heart!” he shouts, pointing to himself. “All because she wanted your husband dead.” He leaves my side, gating toward them. “She did that! She promised herself and me to Roehl all because he gave her some edge to get me to kill our father! And you would ban me?”

  Natalia takes a single step toward him, daring him with a look that could kill.

  Nathan retracts, looking down at her. “She betrayed our family,” he continues in a lower, kinder voice. “And you want me to help her? Just ignore what she’s done?” He snorts. “You should be thankful she’s still alive.”

  Natalia’s hand whips forward and smacks Nathan, sending his head turning left.

  Taking his bottom lip in his mouth, he bites down on it so hard my lip hurts. Leaving his head turned, he looks at me from the corner of his eyes. I can see the million and one thoughts crossing his mind, the rage and calm twisting the color in his irises. He would never lay a finger on his mother, but he wants to release the beast in other ways.

  “Nate,” I mutter apprehensively.

  He’s talking out of anger, and both of them need to calm down. Natalia knows how hard to hit or blast Nathan without it hurting me, but by the sadness in her eyes, she appears to regret her actions.

  Nathan shifts his gaze from me, letting his lids close over his dark eyes as he turns to face his mother.