Sinful Instincts (Woodland Creek) (18 page)

Aaron’s facial expression shifts from soft to harsh. The carefree happy light in him disappears, and a hazel glow takes its place.

Oh, no… no no no.
“Aaron,” I protest. He prowls toward me as I continue to step backwards. “What’s wrong with you? Please, don’t tell me he got to you, too,” I beg. I can’t have another innocent life on my hands. He lashes out, his movement quicker than humanly possible, and I fail to dodge him as he lunges at me. He brings us both to the ground, my side landing on a broken shard of wood from the shattered end table. I grunt in pain, the object digging into my skin. Aaron, or his possessed body, is suddenly thrown from my vision and Zander steps forward, landing on me, bringing my arms above my head and locking them in place.

“How amateur of Sin to leave his prized possession to fend for herself,” he taunts, his smile dripping with malicious satisfaction. I try to struggle under his heavy body, but it just exhausts me. He dips down, burying his nose into my neck and inhaling my scent. Taking his wet tongue, he skims it down my neck. My body bucks out of control, wanting him off me. Every time I move, the piece of wood jabs farther into my side, sending shooting fits of pain up my back. As he pulls back, he shakes his head and before my eyes, his body partially transforms into his beast. “It’s a shame someone of such beauty has to die. If I didn’t want your heart so much, I think I would keep you around as my little pet,” he professes.

That’s when I begin to scream my bloody head off. I hope someone will hear me, but Zander takes his strong hand and covers my mouth. I bite at his skin, but it doesn’t faze him. The sick smile across his face tells me he almost enjoys my struggle. I go limp, trying to save my energy.

“What do you want from me,” I speak softly. My only hope is that Sin will come back for me. He will. He wouldn’t leave me. At the very least he wouldn’t let his golden heart out of his grip.

“Oh, you already know, pet. Your heart. You are the final piece to eternal domination. With that little thing beating so erratically in this chest of yours, I will be able to conjure up an army.” He pauses to tap at my chest. “Just think, an army of souls at my beck and call. A world where I create the rules. I get anything I please.”

“Please, don’t do this. I’m sure there is another way. Another spell. I can take you to the wizard. He can help you,” I ramble, bargaining for my life. I don’t want to die. I was going to accept it if it was Sin to take my life, but not him. Not Zander.

I go into a fit of spasms, trying to break free of his hold. I’m screaming under his hand still clasping my mouth. I use all my strength to fight him. My legs kick, allowing my knee to press up and nick him in the balls. This forces his grip to slightly release, groaning at my contact. “You little bitch,” he hisses, the pain affecting his voice. I go to kick again, but he lifts his hand from my mouth. As I watch the claws expel from his fingertips, he lunges forward, stabbing three sharp, razor-like nails into my stomach.

My scream is almost silent, the pain so excruciating that I almost black out. He beams at the torment he’s causing me and instantly yanks his claws out. I fight for my hands to coddle my wounds. I can feel my shirt being soaked by the blood pouring from my injuries. My stomach constricts, wanting to vomit, the aching in my side too intense. Actions becoming slower, my fight is beginning to die. My eyes flutter open and closed, fighting to stay conscious. I know if I pass out, I die.

A slap to the face ignites me, my eyes flying open. “Don’t you go passing out on me now, pet. I want you awake for this,” he taunts.

“Fuck you,” I retort, my voice weak. Before I am able to brace, he is up and his hands are around my neck. My legs are dangling off the ground, and I fight to rip his fingers from my throat. He doesn’t stall and pivots, throwing my bruised and bleeding body into the nearest wall. I hit it full force, my head and side smacking against the hard surface. My limp body falls to the ground, my arm possibly broken, unable to stop the impact of my fall. The ability to fight disappears and the pain, so strong, takes over. Just as I hear Zander laugh, I lose consciousness.

Sin

I race through the woods, ready to kill. The violence inside me is too powerful to contain and the desire to kill is overwhelming. How could it be her? How could Emma be my way to redemption? I roar into the air, my savage roar sending birds flying from their nests. I push myself, my hind legs moving even faster until I make it to the clearing of the wizard’s home. I don’t bother knocking; I explode back into my human form and break down the door. The wizard, sitting at his table just as I left him, looks as if he is expecting me.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I roar. I pace toward him and toss his table sideways. He doesn’t move an inch, but he maintains eye contact. “WHY? Why didn’t you tell me the item was her, goddammit!?” I’m panting so hard I can barely speak. Every time I say it out loud, it’s another stab to my gut, the acknowledgement that the only thing I have been searching for all this time to destroy is the one thing I want to keep for eternity.

“It wasn’t for me to tell you, Roxsin,” he calmly responds.

“Fuck it wasn’t!” I bark back. “I came to you, and you sent me away with nothing but a goddamn riddle!”

“I gave you a choice. I asked you if you were willing to sacrifice a life of pain, even if it caused you more, and you without a doubt told me you were. I gave you a choice. Then I gave you what you have been searching for—answers. It was for you to figure out what it was and what to do with it,” he reveals.

My mind is racing. Thoughts jumbling together, I’m unable to think. I don’t know what to do. How to process this news. I came here to kill him. Kill him for the games he’s played with me. But now, I just feel broken and confused. I drop my head, grabbing at my thighs to calm my breathing. When I raise it again, I speak. “So, it’s true. She’s a mermaid. She is the heart of sea?” I ask, praying he tells me I’m wrong, that I’ve mistaken all his clues.

“She is. And such a beautiful soul, that child.”

His words kill me. I turn, picking up a chair and slamming it into a wall. “Stop! You will not speak of her, do you hear me?” I threaten him. I can’t stand to hear anyone speak of her. The anger inside me. The jealousy and all the possession that’s consuming my madness.

“Roxsin, I told Emma who she was because she needed to know. The magic inside her is special. She carries a very rare blood type that, combined with the right person, can create a whole new bloodline for her race—” he stalls, “—and yours, as well.”

I halt, searching his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I understand your pain. Your vendetta. I know the lengths you have gone to find peace for your lost love and for yourself. But life has taken the course it has. Sometimes people die and lives end in ways we do not wish.”

“Stop speaking in riddles, old man! Just tell me what you mean,” I snap back, my patience thin.

“Gabriella was meant to die that day. It was just her destiny. You were meant to move on. To find Emma.”

I lunge for him, my shaky hands closing around his frail neck. “You lie. You will not speak of her death that way. I will snap your neck right here without regret.”

“Roxsin, I told you the final item because I knew how you would choose. I knew you wouldn’t kill her. I saw it. I told you so you can come to terms with your battle. You don’t owe Gabriella your life for hers. You need to protect Emma now. That is your true destiny.”

I drop him instantly, as if his words burn me. He cannot be telling me this. The past five years of my life were consumed for nothing. The guilt, the hatred. The anger that lives inside me was for nothing.

“It wasn’t for nothing, Roxsin. It was meant to bring you to Emma.”

“Stop saying that!” I howl. I need him to stop. His words confuse me. I grab for my head, the throbbing becoming almost unbearable. I feel my chest tighten as if I’ve been sliced by razors. In an instant, I drop to me knees, the side of my chest burning as if I’m on fire. “What—what is happening?” My skin trembles with excruciating pain, violent spasms taking over my body.

“Emma,” the wizard gasps, running toward his crystal ball on the floor.

I’m instantly alert, but the moment I stand, another fit of spasms hits me and I fall to the ground. “What do you mean Emma? What’s wrong? What’s happening?” I groan.

“She’s in danger. If you have connected, then you would sense her danger, her pain.” He speedily works his magic over his crystal ball, colors blowing across his face. His brows crease, a grim line covering his face.

“What!? What’s happening?”

“He has her,” he confesses softly. “You left her alone, Roxsin, and now Zander has her. He’s figured it out.” His voice sounds defeated.

“NO!” I shout, my body feeling like it’s been tossed into a brick wall. Suddenly, it’s all gone. The pain ebbs and I am able to stand, feeling as healthy as before. “How… what was that?” I demand, storming toward the wizard, staring into the visions of his crystal ball. And it’s there we both see a bloodied Emma, lying unmoving, with Zander’s frame standing over her.

“No... No... Make him stop. Do something. You’re a wizard; perform some magic, goddammit!” I command.

“Roxsin, I cannot. You need to go to her. There is still time, but go now, or else you won’t be able to save any of us.”

I am exploding into my animal and out the door before he finishes speaking.

Emma

When I was younger, I remembered my dreams being more descriptive. I was able to smell my mother’s hair. I could feel the cool ocean waves splashing against my back as I held onto her. I remember more images. More words. The older I got, fewer good memories came from my dreams, replaced with more frightening ones. I think it wasn’t until age seven when my mother began to let me go in my dreams. When I would drown, waking up in fear of the water. I never understood the shift, or how it went from being something so wonderful to something so frightening. I swore that in the beginning, I saw a man. I felt his presence whenever I was in the water. I never heard him speak, but I could feel him. Feel his love for me, whoever or wherever he was.

The words of the wizard make sense to me now. The images I saw were of my parents. The two who raised me and wanted to love me. I knew they came to me in my dreams as their way of comforting me. And I wanted to believe they loved me enough to do anything they could to protect me.

My body feels light as I am once again floating in the bluest sea water, the warm waves crashing around me as I paddle my arms and legs to stay afloat. The art of swimming is a strange sensation to me. I feel as if I have done it my whole life, but am just doing it for the first time. I sense I am not alone. I twist my paddling legs and turn to see two people graciously gliding through the sea.

“Mother?” I choke on a sob, desperate for this dream to be real. “Is that you?”

“Yes, my sweet Emma.” My mother makes it to me and we embrace in a strong hug, affection pouring through both of us.

I begin to cry instantly. “Oh, Mama, why did you leave me?” I sob. I know why now, but it still hurts.

“My sweet child, I didn’t leave you. I saved you.”

She releases me for my father to swim forward. He takes me into his arms and cradles me to his body, his chest heaving in deep breaths. “I’ve missed you, Emma,” he confesses, again breaking me.

“I’ve missed you, too. Both of you.” I pull away to catch the misty eyes of my father, and my mother who is holding both her closed fists over her heart.

“Why am I able to see you? Am I dreaming?” I look back and forth between them, their expressions sad. “What? What’s happening? Am I dead?” I ask. I know this isn’t real, and I can’t imagine my body recovering from the damage and blood loss caused by Zander.

“No, sweetie, you’re not dead. But if you don’t fight, you will be,” my mother responds, bringing her hands out and cupping my face. “You are beautiful, and we love you very much. This is not your time, my sweet Emma. I need you to fight, my child,” she urges.

“How? I can’t take him. He is stronger than I am. I am already too wounded.” I know there is no way for me to fight. My body is mangled. “Please, I am okay with dying. I want to come with you,” I beg.