Spectral (12 page)

Heavy breaths drummed behind me. “Help!” I screamed.

The car pulled over. I knocked on the window, panicking. “Please, let me in!” A swift glance revealed the man had slowed his pace, but still marched quickly in my direction.

The lock popped open and I hopped into the backseat. “That man is chasing me! Please drive,” I wailed to the woman behind the wheel.

“Which man, dear?” she asked almost too calmly. I mean, the man was just a few feet away. Was she blind? “Right there,” I pointed at him accusingly. But he kept walking toward us steadily, staring at me through the windshield, and then at the woman. A twisted smirk crossed his face.

And then it came to me all too suddenly and my legs tingled, growing numb.

A trap.

My breath caught in my throat, and I banged my fist against the seat. “What are you doing?”

Stone-faced, she caught my wrist in a death grip. The man climbed in the car beside me.

“Let me out of here,” I screamed, pulling on the now locked door handle with my free hand. The woman dropped my wrist and drove away.

“Check her, Henri,” the woman said over her shoulder. “
dépêchez-vous
…make sure it’s really her.”

French, she’s speaking French! Who are these people?

The man reached toward me, lifted my ponytail, and then ran his fingers over my neck. Muttering, he lifted the edge of my t-shirt, looking down my back.

I flung my arm, knocking him in the face. “Get away from me, you pervert. Let me go!”

He yanked my ponytail, snapping my head back. “Stay still, Spectral,” he whispered into my ear.

A sudden coldness hit me at my core. The man knew who I was. I stopped struggling, reality sinking in that I really was the Spectral. I focused on that, and on what happened to me at the beach. I closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing, and imagined all of my nervous energy rounding itself into a giant ball surrounding me, until finally, his clammy fingers were off my skin, and their voices became muffled.

“What’s going on, Dominique?” Henri asked the woman.

Nausea twisted in my stomach, mixed with pride at the same time. Pride that I’d accomplished something—anything—on my own.

“She’s on to something,” Dominique said, face ashen. “But how did she get that power? Her birthday’s not for two more weeks.” She stared at me. “But look at her, she can’t sustain it.”

Sweat trickled down the sides of my face and I trembled uncontrollably. My brain distorted; my thoughts fuzzy. But I knew she was right. They could still see me as plainly as I saw them. I wasn’t able to create a barrier like Roman did, and even if I could, just because they couldn’t touch me didn’t mean I could escape. They knew who I was, and I could only imagine what they wanted to do to me now that they had found me. The chilling thought spiked my heart rate to new levels.

I thought of Jayden and his reaction to finding out I was dead. I pinched my eyes together tightly as tears wet my lashes. I willed an idea to come to me, but got nothing.

Soon the barrier that kept Henri’s prying hands off me disappeared into vapor. I twisted my hands together, too weakened to fight him. He tugged up my left sleeve, then my right. When he saw my birthmark, satisfaction washed over him like rain in the desert.

Henri draped his arm around my shoulder, patting it gently. “Nice try.”

I tried to shrug him off, but he just pulled me tighter into him. “Don’t worry,
ma cherie
. We’re not going to hurt you. We just had to make sure it was really you. You’ll be a welcome addition to our coven.”

Chapter Fifteen

The car suddenly lurched backward and then stopped. The wheels kept spinning as Dominique accelerated. The stench of burnt rubber and smoke filled the air, making me cough.

Henri whipped his head back to look out the rearview window. “Go Dominique! It’s someone from the Augusti Forza!”

Chills ran through me at the sound of the familiar words, just as Dominique’s face turned an odd shade of gray. The Augusti Forza—my guardians. I followed Henri’s gaze and realized it wasn’t just anybody from the Augusti.

The lock popped up, and then the door swung open. Henri and Dominique sat frozen.

It was incredible how, in that moment, looking up into Roman’s face, the fear washed away from me. He reached in the car and gathered me into his arms, cradling me tenderly.

Safe. I was safe in his arms. In a way no one else had ever made me feel.

“Roman,” I whispered. “You came.”

Roman quickly carried me behind some bushes. He sat me down gently on the grass. “Of course I came, butterfly. Did they hurt you?”

I shook my head, stunned.

Roman frowned. “I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you…” He looked over both of his shoulders and back at me. “Never.” His fingertips traced circles against my arm. “I’ve so much to explain to you. I only hope you can forgive me.” His voice was thick. “When I thought I’d lost you, I knew I couldn’t…”

“Couldn’t what?” I reached out and took his hand. “And forgive you for what, Roman? I don’t understand.”

His eyes focused solely on me, roaming over me tenderly. He pressed me backward. My shoulders sank into the ground as he leaned over me, his face inches from mine. He moved his nose teasingly against mine, stopping to kiss each of my eyes, while his hand slid up my arm. Something inside me danced and then spiraled into desire. He grasped the back of my neck, bringing my face toward him.

“No time to talk,” he whispered against my mouth. “Just kiss me.”

“Really?” I asked breathlessly. My heart thumped in my ears. “I don’t want you to be sorry.”

“I’m way past sorry,” he said just before his lips touched mine. I folded into him, knotting my fingers through his hair and pulling him down, breathing him in. His velvet lips molded gently into mine and I trembled. Heat ignited my skin, spreading though me like wildfire.

Car tires screeched, followed by a car door slamming. Then another. The sounds jolted us back to reality.

Roman peeked over the thick hedges, and then dropped to the ground beside me again.

Reaching over, he held the side of my face. “Don’t move until I come back for you…no matter what you see or hear.” There was an edge to his voice that made my stomach tumble.

I sat up. “What’s wrong?” I whispered.

“Jewel,” he whispered more urgently, holding me back. “I’m serious.”

I had the sudden urge to run as fast as I could, to get away somehow. I realized there’d be no red concoction from Mom. No sleep induced coma where I’d wake up somewhere new, disaster avoided. The thought smashed me in the face and a scream made its way to the back of my throat.

Instead, I swallowed and nodded. “Where are you going?” I choked out.

“Taking care of business.”

Roman crept stealthily from behind the bushes onto the road. My heart lurched and my palms grew damp. I edged closer to the bush-line, peering out. Two men in uniform twisted around to face Roman.

“What’s this mess about?” one man said as Roman approached him. My eyes drifted from his black polished boots to his crisp black fitted pants. I forced myself to look past his canary yellow button-up shirt to his serious face. His thinning salt and pepper hair was slicked neatly into place.

The French people’s car sat unmoving. I could barely make out the back of Henri and Dominique’s heads. They didn’t budge. It was as if they had locked eyes with Medusa herself.

A younger man, dressed the same as the other, looked in the car window and grunted. “They are from the Parisian Coven,
Les
élus
.” He turned back to face the older man, and I noticed a bright red, raspberry birthmark below his left eye.

Roman coughed. When he spoke, his voice sounded low and calm, but I sensed an edge to it. “I’m on her trail, and these wing-nuts were following me, attempting to ambush me.” Roman gestured to the car.

The older man folded his arms over his chest. “You said you were hot on her trail
last
week. You’re nothing like your old man.” He mocked, disgust showing clearly on his face.

Roman’s jaw clenched and then relaxed. “I’ll find her. Don’t worry, Paolo.”

Paolo hooked his thumbs under his belt. “Ya see, worrying’s the one thing I do well lately, Roman. I took a chance on you. I gave you this job before anyone else felt you were ready.” He poked Roman in the chest, but Roman didn’t even flinch. “All of the Augusti warned me that you were too young…even your beloved father. But I took you under my wing. Taught you everything I know. And in the training drills, you scored far more advanced than you are proving to be in the field. Do you understand what it will mean to you and the Augusti if you fail? Not only will you be set to face trial, and disgrace your father and me, but I’ll be stripped of my title that I’ve worked so hard for.” His eyes narrowed. “You
will
recover the Spectral. You
will
bring her to the Augusti Forza. And she
will
be disposed of before her quickening can transpire.”

A chill tip-toed down my spine. I bit down on my lip so hard I almost drew blood. What was he saying? Dispose of me? I thought the Augusti was here to protect me? Roman had told me they were my guardians. But Henri hadn’t said anything about wanting to kill me—he said I’d be a welcome addition to their coven, not that I would do that, of course. But Henri hadn’t said anything about wanting to kill me.

Roman had lied to me. My stomach soured, twisting.

Incredibly, Roman remained calm. He shifted from one foot to the other, but kept his voice steady. He reminded me of a perfectly skilled poker player. “I will bring her with the dagger before her birthday. You can depend on me,” he told them.

I wanted to run away, but my legs felt like they were encased in cement. I didn’t know what to believe anymore. My head spun as anxiety gripped me. I pushed my hands up through my hair.
What does the French coven really want from me? What’s up with Taylor’s mom? Where’s the dagger? Who’s the Augusti Forza? And who is Roman, and what does he actually want with me?

But if Roman really wanted to give me up, this would be a perfect opportunity—and he wasn’t taking it.

“You’ve got one week,” Paolo said. “Don’t let me down.” He turned, gesturing to the car where Henri and Dominique were beginning to stir. “Massimo, take care of the criminals.”

Massimo walked to the front of the car. He glanced around as if ensuring nobody was watching. I hunkered down lower. He placed his hands on the hood of the car.

Roman closed his eyes. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, but stayed where he was.

Steam emitted from Massimo’s hands and then spread out from his whole body. It was like heavy fog drifting off a swamp, swallowing the car. I heard a muffled scream come from inside. Massimo stepped away. My eyes widened as I watched the thick fog sucked back into his body like a vacuum. The car, along with Henri and Dominique, had vanished.

Paolo laughed, croaky and guttural. It reminded me of Uncle Boris when he laughed. Smoker’s laugh, I called it.

He turned to Roman again, pointing directly at him. “One week. If you haven’t found and brought her to us by then, we’ll be back. Those witches’ lives were lost because of you.” He ticked his head toward the empty space where the car had once been. “If you’d have done your job right, the Spectral would be dead and greed wouldn’t have taken those two over. The Spectral is an abomination—you know that. Find her,” he growled.

An abomination
?

My nails bit into my palms. I had an intense urge to run out and smash the guy square in the face. Who was he calling an abomination? What about smoke-ass man Massimo? What the hell was he? If only I was the Spectral already, I’d go all supernova on him. I sank my head into my hands, rubbing my temples as my pulse pounded against my fingers. That was probably why they wanted me dead.

They’re afraid of the power I’m supposed to get,
I realized, looking back up.

Roman smiled tightly, “I’m on it. She’ll be in your hands within the week.”

I shuddered. If this was his poker face, he should move to Vegas. He’d be a gazillionaire in a week.

“You better deliver,” Paolo warned. He and Massimo got back in their cars and sped off.

Roman watched them go, then began walking down the street in the opposite direction. I wanted to jump out and scream at him. I wanted to call him a liar and tell him how much I hated him. Instead, I just sat there as he took a quick turn and jumped behind the hedges. He headed back toward me looking humble. It was an expression I’d not seen him wear before.

After ensuring the cars had left, I stood, hands cupping my hips. “What the hell was that? I thought you said you were here to protect me. You lied to me!”

Roman quickly covered the distance between us and placed his hands on my shoulders.

I jerked away.

“I
am
here to protect you…now.”

I scowled.

“Listen, I asked you to forgive me.” He gazed into my eyes, “But I don’t know if you can.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I’d understand if you can’t. But can you at least let me try to explain?”

Wordlessly, I stared at him through narrowed eyes, teeth gritted. Roman’s cheeks flushed and I couldn’t believe he was actually embarrassed. Still torn over what to believe, my ears or my heart, I nodded.

“The stuff I told you about the Spectrals from centuries ago—how a couple turned crazy and killed other witches—that was true. After that, the Augusti had no choice but to step in.”

I huffed. “So what are you saying? That you guys kill any Spectral born before they can make it through their quickening?”

Roman grimaced and nodded once.

I shook my head. “But how does that make you any better than the bad Spectrals?” I set cool eyes on him. “A murderer is a murderer however you look at it.”

“You’re right. But it’s the only way we could think of. We look at it like we’re getting rid of one bad witch to save many innocent ones. The idea of Spectrals became a legend. It came to be considered a curse, not a blessing. A virus. At least that’s how it’s looked at by the Augusti. Other covens claim to feel that way, too.” Roman shrugged. “But I’d say that’s more of a jealousy and fear factor thing. I think that as much as the legend out there is one of a curse, every coven secretly wants a Spectral born into theirs. And then, of course they want the child to survive the Augusti Forza. That’s why some covens are willing to risk their lives to kidnap you. They want you for their own coven. Having you will increase their power exponentially and protect them.”

My head started pounding again with the onslaught of information. Wearily I massaged the base of my neck, trying to take it all in. “When I was in the car with those two, they knew the minute they saw you that you were from the Augusti Forza.” I studied his features. “How’s that possible when you’re not even wearing the uniform like the others?”

Roman closed his eyes a second, and took a deep breath. He slowly held up his hand, palm facing me.

“Hey, don’t try to shut me up.”

“Chill. Wait for it.”

I blinked, and looked back to his hand. The center of his palm began to change color. A small circle of yellow fanned out from its center, forming into a perfectly round shaped ball. It turned orange, and then an orangey-red. It glowed brilliantly, and looked like a bright harvest moon. I gasped. “What’s that?” I reached toward his hand, but he closed his fingers and put his hand by his side.

“Proof of who I am. When I show that to another witch, they are supposed to comply. Not all do, as you just saw. It also creates a magnetic force that can unlock doors, among other things.”

I closed my eyes, remembering him walking toward the car when I was trapped with Henri and Dominique. He must’ve lowered his hand before I turned to look. When I opened my eyes again, Roman returned my gaze.

“Well it sounds to me like the Augusti Forza is afraid of having a witch more powerful than they are, too,” I said.

“Hey, I’m not denying that. The story of what went down with the last Spectral would scare the hell out of anybody. She was psycho.”

I must have turned pale because Roman looked at me apologetically. He clasped my arms, unfolding them and took my hands in his. “Look. I don’t even know what’s true anymore or how much of it is an urban legend. But I’ve gotten to know you, Jewel, and I don’t believe you could morph into anything evil.” He squeezed my hands, “And the part I said about it being forbidden for us to be together is true, too. If I was caught with you in that way…well let’s just say it wouldn’t go over too well for me. My job is to find you and turn you in,” Roman clenched his jaw. “But I’m not going to. That’s not even a possibility anymore.”

I pinched my eyebrows together. I’d heard what Paolo had said about Roman having to face trial if he didn’t bring me to them. Who knew what the punishment of a guilty verdict would bring. After what I watched Massimo do to Henri and Dominique, I could only imagine the worst.

“Why? Didn’t that Paolo guy say something about your dad? Wouldn’t you be like a traitor or something if you didn’t turn me in? You’d be turning against your own.”

Roman stepped closer to me. His warm breath fanned across my cheek. He swept a strand of hair behind my ear, sliding his fingertips down my jaw-line. His fingers briefly danced over my lips. “Because, Jewel,” his voice was barely above a whisper, and his eyes gazed into mine like molten chocolate, “you
are
my own now. I’m falling for you.”

It felt like a million butterflies fluttered inside me. An array of emotions clouded my mind as his words rang in my ears. Roman—falling for
me
? I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to reach out and pull him into my arms, but nagging thoughts filled me. How could I be sure it wasn’t a trick? He’d already lied to me before. I twirled a strand of my hair around my finger like I always did when I was nervous, biting my lip.