Burning Emerald (25 page)

Read Burning Emerald Online

Authors: Jaime Reed

BOOK: Burning Emerald
5.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Yes. Malik was killed in an accident and Tobias has been passing himself off as him. No one knows he's dead but me,” I clarified.
Haden rested his elbow on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just have one question—”
“Just one? Really now?” Michael chided with a shake of the head.
Haden's brows puckered together when he asked, “Where is the real Malik's body?”
That was a good question, and it was a shame that I didn't have a good answer. After all, the James River was pretty big with a lot of hungry fish.
 
After brunch, the brothers adjourned to the living room to plot a combat strategy. They huddled close, whispering in conspirators' tones, only to cut their eyes at me when I walked by. They'd made it clear that I wasn't to get involved, but I was too old to still be sitting at the kids' table. I may have been getting a taste of my own medicine, but I had the right to know what they planned to do, so I had to be sneaky about it.
“A forty-five might be a bit messy. I don't think bullets will work on him. Another thing, if we get him out in the open, it might make too much noise. A silencer maybe ...” Michael turned to Caleb. “You still got your crossbow, right? Been keeping up with your aim?”
“Yeah. But if bullets won't work, how do you think an arrow will?” Caleb asked. “He can heal pretty quickly.”
“I think we can improvise. Just a few alterations, maybe replace the arrows with—” Haden stopped when Caleb touched his shoulder. The brothers grew quiet and looked up to where I hid behind the entryway.
“I know you're there. Go find something to do,” Caleb ordered, sounding way too much like my dad for my taste. This internal link thing killed all element of surprise, which sucked when you were trying to spy on someone. And Caleb's standoffish attitude didn't make it any better.
His silent treatment dripped lemon juice on my open sores. He hadn't said more than two words to me all morning, and it took all my will not to cry. I might have thought painkillers played a part in his flakiness were it not for the raw emotions polluting the air: dread, hunger, and pent-up hostility. I felt it when he brushed against me to leave the room. I saw it in the deadened stare that never quite met my eyes.
After I was rudely dismissed, I searched for Mom, the one person who didn't look nauseous at the sight of me. She worried about the brothers going off alone, so she called Ruiz to meet them at the station, and I was none too pleased that she had his number on speed dial.
At that moment, I caught a peek of what Dad had seen in Mom when they were young, back when love wasn't so complicated. A strange personality shift took place, one of those Freaky Friday moments where I was the concerned parent and Mom was the carefree teen.
Having seen enough foolishness, I cornered Mom in the kitchen. “What's with you and the Cuban Necktie?”
She covered the mouthpiece of the phone with her hand. “Nothing. We're just friends, that's all. I think he can help us.”
“You're aware that he knows about me, right? He knows Cambions exist.”
Her smile fell away. “How do you know?”
I balked. “Uh, I just do. He's been asking a lot of personal questions about Caleb. Who knows, he could be a hired hit man trying to kill him.”
She rolled her eyes. “Samara, I think you're overreacting.”
“Says the woman who sleeps with a gun under her pillow. Just be careful, okay?”
“I will.” She put the phone back to her ear. “Okay, so what were you saying? No, I can't today. I have to take care of a few things here, but can I get a rain check?” That coy smile reappeared as she began playing with her hair.
Before my gag reflex kicked in, I left the kitchen, and ignored the sickening chorus of “Go on, David, you hang up... . No, you hang up... . I won't hang up until you hang up.”
Sitting at the dining room table, I mumbled, “It's official; everyone in my life is insane.”
“It's called hormones,” Michael replied behind me, driving his knuckles over my skull.
I swatted him away and smoothed down my hair. “Yeah, well, there should be a warning label on that thing. Villainy, thy daughter is Lust, and her sister is Madness, which makes their father Foolish.”
Not really listening, Michael plopped in the chair beside me. His thumbs sped across his razor-thin phone. There were very few moments when that contraption wasn't in his hand or propped to his ear.
“So, are you gonna tell me what you plan—”
“No,” he cut me off. “It's best that you don't know. You're a liability, and we can't have Lilith somehow leaking information to Tobias, can we? In case something
does
happen, we don't want you lying any more to police than you need to. Caleb's not as soft as people think. Takes a lot to get him riled up and takes twice the effort to cool him down. I think you know that already.” Not looking up from his phone, he continued, “Finding a Cambion mate is remarkable. We usually stay clear of each other out of fear, but desperately want that deep connection. A part of me is a bit jealous.”
I laughed without humor. “Don't be.”
“Oh, I don't envy your situation now. But your link with Caleb has its advantages,” he said. “You may not survive without the other, but you rely on each other for strength, making it twice as hard for you to die.”
Put in that perspective, the burden of having a mate lightened in weight, but only ever so slightly.
“What's your spirit's name anyway, if you don't mind me asking?”
“Doesn't have one.”
“What's with that? These are intelligent beings. Why don't they have names?”
He stopped texting to look at me. “Well, our spirits are descendants, pieces of a bigger entity. With each new Cambion comes a new spirit. My mum named my dad's, Brodie's wife named his, and you named Caleb's. It's a bit of a tradition to have our lovers name them.”
There was that L word again. It kinda grossed me out, a sign that I wasn't cut out for all this romance stuff. Capone had told me that it meant more than it implied, something deeper.
Capone. It was a silly name, I had to admit, but it suited him. I remembered the day that I'd named him, a privilege that I'd never appreciated until now, a declaration of true devotion. Had Caleb known that day that we would be joined at the hip? Would he still make the same decision now?
Their ride showed up before I could learn the answer. A van waited on the curb with a white TAXI sign on the roof. Haden climbed inside the cab, leaving only seconds before Caleb disappeared with him. As I dashed out of the house, he turned and faced me with a blank expression. Every jerky limp and shuffle tested his endurance, but he was determined to walk over hot coals to reach me.
I met him halfway and caught my breath. “Caleb, I—”
He lifted a hand to silence me. “Don't take this the wrong way, but I gotta get the hell away from you.”
The reply delivered a sucker punch to my stomach. “How can I not take that the wrong way?”
With a glazed, half-baked stare, he replied in a flat monotone, “I need to lay low for a while until this poison gets out of our systems. Capone's opened something dark in me, something violent that I don't want to acknowledge. He's restless and I need to rein him in—though I might need to use him again to fight.”
Fight? Caleb was too weak to walk, let alone engage in mortal combat. “You can't. Capone's unstable and who knows how long it will take to get your control back next time.”
“I can't defeat Tobias by my own strength.” He rubbed his bandaged forehead to show his point. “If that means I have to up my food intake, that's what I'll do. Don't let my lassitude fool you, Sam, I know what's going on and I'll protect what's mine. Every woman in my life leaves—my mom, my sisters, Nadine—and I'll be damned if you follow.”
“You don't have to do this. We can find another way,” I pleaded. “I heard what you guys were plotting, and let me be the first to tell you that it's stupid. This ain't Dungeons and Dragons! Arrows and medieval swords can't kill him. I'm not even sure if he can die naturally, and you're just gonna piss him off more. I just got you back and now you're ready to return to the hospital, or worse.”
“It's better than what's going on now.” He tapped his temple. “Visions are flickering around in my brain; I don't know what's a dream and what's real. But I sense him in you, squirming around like a hungry maggot. And then there's Lilith, and I'm not even gonna go there.”
“Speaking of Lilith, why didn't you tell me that olive oil was poisonous to us? Why do I always have to find things out the hard way?”
He closed his eyes for a second, struggling for the right answer. “I'm sorry, Sam. There are so many rules that come with being a Cambion; I can't keep track. I've never had to explain what we are to anyone else. We're born like this and we have a lifetime to get accustomed to how things work. I'm surprised Lilith hadn't told you.” His stare settled on my shoulder, not really seeing it, but using it as a focal point as his mind wandered off. He shook himself out of it, then dismissed the subject with the swipe of his hand. “I'm checking into a hotel until all this gets sorted out. I'll give you a call when everything's settled. Might be a while, though.”
“So that's it? Just ... nothing?” When he didn't respond, I shoved his chest. “I can't believe you! After all I've been through with you, you're bailing on me? How can you push me away for something I have no control over?”
“I think control is our number-one problem, don't you think?” Without another word, he slid into the backseat.
I stood quietly for a moment, logging this new information away, but some details just would not compute. Did I just get dumped, or did I blink? It couldn't end like this, with no “good-bye” or “kiss my ass” to seal the deal.
During Mia's many fights with Dougie, she often used a term called “time-out,” a suspension I associated with misbehaved children. Was Caleb punishing me?
“No worries, Sam. It's only temporary. Soon as we handle this demon business, you two'll be back on, you'll see.” Michael scooted past me while stuffing Mom's red napkin rings into his trench coat. What he needed with them, I didn't know, and I was pretty sure he didn't either. With a parting smile, he climbed in with his brother. In minutes, the cab rolled down the block and disappeared around the corner, hauling the huge chunk of my heart in the backseat.
 
Mom and I didn't say much that afternoon. We had our own separate wars taking place and talking would disrupt the battle. For the rest of the day, she stayed busy on the phone, haggling with insurance companies and distracting Dad until this all blew over. Ducking the line of fire, I hid upstairs and played catch-up.
In light of all the chaos in my life, I still had a GPA to repair. Dad's threat over my car no longer held weight, but my acceptance into Howard stood in jeopardy. I needed the preoccupation, the reminder of who I used to be. I whipped out my syllabus, highlighted the list of extra-credit assignments, and redirected my energy to something useful.
For English, I had to read
Canterbury Tales
and dissect a story of my choice.
The Pardoner's Tale
of the three thieves struck a personal chord with me. Three men found bags of gold under a tree and, consumed by greed, murdered each other for a bigger portion. It brought to mind one of Ben Franklin's famous quotes I'd heard in history class: “Three may keep a secret, if the other two are dead.”
Would that be the case for my sadistic triad? Tobias, Caleb, and I were braided together by empathy and secrets that would cost dearly if revealed. Would our ambitions destroy us, or would one walk away empty-handed for the sake of the other? I guess I'd find out on Monday.
I finished my essay and two math worksheets before sleep could no longer be avoided.
Caleb's use of my room granted a small relief and made the cavity that less hollow. I wondered if he'd done the same things I did while here: smelling the pillows and clothes, taking stock of every item moved, and touching each piece, hoping to feel the lingering body heat. To my surprise, I found three quarters in my bed when I pulled back the blanket. Out of habit, I recounted the coins in the jar on my dresser, and added the extra seventy-five cents to the collection with a renewed sense of hope.
Trapped in his scent, I rolled into a Caleb burrito under the covers and stared at my cell phone on the nightstand. He'd said he would call as soon as he checked into a hotel, but my voice mail showed no new messages. Though spite told me not to answer the phone, I just wanted the ring, just to know he was safe. I watched the tiny apparatus, checking for the slightest vibration or glow on the display. My eyes fixed, barely blinking, as if my will alone would make it ring at any minute....

Other books

RecipeforSubmission by Sindra van Yssel
Joining the Party by Dragon, Cheryl
Lethal Legacy by Fairstein Linda
I Call Him Brady by K. S. Thomas
Fruit and Nutcase by Jean Ure
Hope Is a Ferris Wheel by Robin Herrera
The Wrong Bus by Lois Peterson
Chastity Flame by K. A. Laity
Elphame's Choice by P.C. Cast