The Corollaria (18 page)

After she had fallen asleep, Luke had gone back. Luke disentangled himself from Emily now, gently laying her head on a pillow. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled a large gold ring from the pocket of his discarded pants. He studied the ornate carvings on the sides and the flat top. A ruby, as red as blood, sparkled in the moonlight that filtered into the room.

That pungent strange smell clung to the ring. Something about it as he held it tight in his palm made fear course through his veins. He looked back at Emily, peaceful in her sleep. His heart clenched at the thought of that monster somehow still being after her. He couldn’t explain it. He’d saw him die. He’d watched Curtis slice his head off. And then he’d looked back only moments later, and saw only a stain of blood as a sign that anything had been there.

Luke’s nostrils flared, he gritted his teeth.  The need to protect Emily, to protect his family, his pack rushed up inside him so quick it stole his breath. He had to find out about this without alerting anyone. If Samuel knew they knew he wasn’t dead...it would be too late.

He had to leave tonight.

The breath knocked out of him briefly as he realized he’d have to leave her.  That he might be losing her in order to protect her.

In order to save
her.

In order to save
them all.

E
mily shivered as a cold chill raced up her spine.  She stood in the middle of nowhere.  There was a thick fog all around her, obscuring everything. It was dark, so dark not even a star twinkled in the midnight sky.  Panic and fear quickened her heart.  Emily squinted, trying to peer through the dense fog.

“Emily.”

A familiar voice echoed all around her.  Her heart thudded fiercely against her ribcage.

“Luke!” she cried.  No answer.  She screamed his na
me again, over and over, until her throat felt like sandpaper.  Tears sprang to her eyes, and flowed freely down her cheeks.  She fell to her knees in despair.

“Emily,” Luke’s voice called to her again, but she didn’t look up as she wept into her hands.  “Help.”

Panting and flushed, Emily’s eyes flew open. The pale light from the ending movie flickered on the television.  Next to her, Trent was asleep. His long legs stretched out in front of him, his head propped up on his hand.  His light hair fell across his brow.

Guilt and several unnamed emotions mixed together in her gut. And then anger.  Luke had left. Curtis was dead.  And Trent had been here every day since.  He was sweet and funny and handsome.  He teased her, he held her when she cried. Yet, even though she could see it in his eyes, he
’d still never made a move.

Emily wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed by this little fact.  She was angry and hurt by Luke leaving. And confused by whatever she tried to deny was in fact growing between her and Trent in his absence.

Unbidden, Luke’s voice from her dream came rushing back. 
Help.  He’d said that, hadn’t he?

“Maybe I should go after him,” she murmured to herself. Trent stirred next to her.  Emily sighed, already planning how to get away without alerting Trent or Carson.
  No matter how angry and hurt she was, she knew she had to go after Luke. She was tired of sitting around, waiting. 

Something inside her she couldn’t neither explain nor deny condensed like a rock in her chest.
She bent forward and kissed Trent softly on the cheek, before letting herself out of his apartment.

~000~

The next day, Trent confronted Emily outside the Lyall’s.

“Why—?” Trent’s voice cracked, the sound felt like tiny shards of glass piercing the silence. His voice faded, but his nostrils flared. “—where are you going?”

She took a deep lungful of air. The crisp winter air swirled around her, filing her chest with cold and dread. Emily swallowed hard. “Trent, I have to find him.”

Trent hesitated.  He turned his back to her, his hands clenched into tight fist as he l
ooked out over the empty street. The sunset spread like ink spilling across the gray sky. The chill in the air prickled along his skin, but he barely felt it. He was battling opposing emotions inside himself.

He turned to face her, his eyes studied her, roaming over her trembling hands, her violent blue eyes. They were standing on the front steps of the Lyall’s brownstone in Brooklyn. Cara, Luke’s mother, had left earlier for the store. It had been the perfect opportunity for her to leave—until Trent had unexpectedly come by to check on her.

Emily dropped her gaze, her long lashes fanned across her cheek as she tried to hide her shaking fingers.

“Tink,” his voice sharp
and clear as it cut through the crisp air, yet unmistakably tender.

She didn’t look up, but flinched at the sound of her nickname on his lips. She could feel the emotions rolling off of him, wishing he wouldn’t do what she knew he was about to
. At the same time part of her selfishly hoped for it.

In the long weeks since Luke had left, Trent had been her closest friend.  He moved towards her, slowly
, cautiously. She felt his heat, smelt the fresh scent of his skin.  He curled his fingers under her chin, tilting it up.

Slowly he slipped his finger
s into her hair and pulled her close. Trent paused for just a moment before he pressed his lips to hers. His kiss was soft, almost hesitant, like any moment he expected to be pushed away. But she didn't. She couldn't. His lips moved against hers, like brushstrokes soft and slow. And for a blissful moment Emily kissed him back.

Trent pulled back, his hand still cupping her cheek. His smile was wistful. His dark eyes crinkled at the corners, sad and resigned in the dimming light. Trent sighed. He looked down and
swore under his breath. Emily's skin prickled with his dark emotions. He looked back up, and sighed again.

"I saw him that night Tink. I followed him."

Emily's throat closed up. "What?" she croaked, quickly stepping away from him.

The memory of that night came rushing back. He closed his eyes as he told her.

Trent sat in the courtyard, staring up at the starry sky. Ash and smoke and fear and blood still hung in the air like a rotting stench.  Movement caught his eye. Luke almost silently slipping from the Queen’s house into the night.

Something didn’t feel right. He followed him, through the cobblestones streets and ruins of the Hidden City.  When they came to the edge of the city, Luke turned around, his gray eyes flash
ed brightly in the moonlight.

“Trent,” he called, sighing. Trent walked out from the shadows.  “What are you doing?”

“I should ask you the same thing, brother,” he nodded to the pack slung over his left shoulder. Luke’s mouth thinned and he looked away for a moment.

“Listen,” Luke pleaded, stepping closer. “This isn’t over. I have to go. I have to protect my family. Protect
Emily.”

“By leaving her?” Trent felt off balanced. Since he’d met Luke all he’d known was his devotion to Emily.
But he’d also sensed his confused feelings, his inner conflict.

Luke flinched, and looked down, running a hand through his hair.  “I found something,”
he revealed.

Trent raised an expectant eyebrow when Luke refocused his gaze on him.

“I went back and Samuel’s body was gone. And I found this.” He handed Trent the heavy gold ring.

Trent studied the ring, turning in over in his palm. Something about it, the smell of it burned his nose. He frowned.

“He’s not dead,” Luke said. His voice was dark and quiet.  There was no doubt in Trent’s mind what his pack brother planned on doing. If Samuel was thought to be dead and if the vampire knew this, Luke could surprise attack and kill him. Once and for all.

“Will you—” Luke cut off.

“I’ll look out for her,” Trent promised.

Emily was silent for a moment, absorbing Trent's confession.
She watched several emotions that mirrored her own flicker in his dark eyes.  Guilt, heavy as a stone.  Anger, bright and hot like fire.  And a deep visceral ache that carved into her gut.

"Tink, maybe you shouldn't--"

"No," she responded sharply. "I'm going. I'm sorry."

But she wasn’t sure if that was true. She was angry. Luke
had left her, didn't trust her to tell her whatever was going on. Trent had kept this from her. They treated her like fragile doll. It made her stomach roll in revulsion and hot anger stung her skin. Maybe that was her fault. Maybe she had been weak, crippled by fear.

Looking into Trent’s dark eyes, feeling his kiss still tingling on her lips, she felt confused and guilty and her heart pounded hard against her ribs.

Trent's hands were on her face again, his dark gaze locked on hers. He leaned forward and kissed her chastely.

"Sorry," he said softly. "It's impossible not to fall in love with you, Tink."

Emily didn't move. She couldn't breathe.

But as quickly as Trent's face had softened, revealing his true emotions, they were replaced. His dark eyes turned from sad to amusement. His wistful smile curled into a cocky smirk.

"Maybe it's all that Faerie magic," he teased, chuckling when Emily glared at him. He wrapped his strong arms around her and kissed her forehead. He then bent to whisper in her ear. "Go, but if I don't hear from you in two days, I'm coming after you, do you hear me?"

Emily nodded against his chest, breathing in his scent, like a rainforest, fresh and exotic and wild.

He bent to kiss her once more and then turned to leave. He didn't look back.

Emily wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or guilty or heartbroken or angry. Or maybe, it was all of it
melded together as she turned to leave.

~000~

Trent turned a corner a couple of blocks away and leaned against a red brick building. Fishing his cell phone out of his pocket he quickly dialed Carson’s number.

“All mighty Alpha,” Trent said with his usual sarcasm, but his voice faltered, betraying his strained emotions.  “We have a problem.”

~000~

A fire crackled in the fireplace as Vanessa sat, staring into the flames.  Her mind was a million miles away, remembering her lost son.  Her silent heart constricted. Guilt stab at her like a dagger.

Suddenly, the energy in the dark room
changed.

“Vanessa,” a smooth familiar voice drawled.  She turned around to see Samuel striding confidently into the room, an amused lift to his lips and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Vanessa’s mouth fell open in shock. He looked remarkably unaffected by the events, by his supposed death, only weeks before.

“What are—” she stuttered. Vanessa took an unnecessary breath, her nerves rattled.  Somehow she managed to compose her face into amused indifference. “Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

Samuel smirked, obviously entertained. “Nothing a little black magic couldn’t fix.”

Vanessa narrowed her eyes, but managed to bite her tongue. Samuel sauntered closer and sat in the armchair next to the couch where Vanessa sat, rigid with fear and rage. He leaned toward her, ever the grinning predator.

Vanessa couldn’t hold back anymore. “You killed my son,” she spat, her voice full of pain and anger.

Samuel leaned back in the chair, crossed his legs and steepled his fingers against his chin. He raised one eyebrow.  “Did I?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “If it wasn’t for you, he’d still be alive.”

Samuel shrugged.  “He isn’t dead. No more dead than you or I.”

Vanessa gasped, unable to control her emotions any longer. “What are you talking about?” she demanded.

“Vanessa,” Samuel chastised.  “I came here to ask for a favor.”

Vanessa sneered defiantly.  “What makes you think I’d do anything for you?”

Samuel grinned.  “If you do, maybe I’ll let your son live.”

Vanessa paled.  “What do you want?” She cursed herself internally for her voice shaking.  Samuel was a predator that fed on fear and power.

He grinned crookedly.  “I want the girl. And I want you to get her for me.”

Vanessa shook her head. “I can’t—”

“Oh, but you can. And you will,” Samuel spoke haughtily, leaning forward.  He was no longer grinning.  “You would do anything for that which you desire most.”

“And Emily—”

“Luke,” he said simply.  “I have Luke. And she’ll come for him.”

Shaking, she couldn’t stop the words as they spilled from her tongue, “And what would you do?”

“For my greatest desire?” Samuel grinned again, his lips curled with bloodlust, his dark eyes were wicked, his teeth, sharp as razors gleamed in the firelight. He looked like Satan himself.

“I’d burn the whole world to the ground.”

S
everal perfect white snowflakes drifted silently outside as Jenny watched.  A sudden loud echoing curse, followed by a giant crash disrupted the peaceful silence.
Great
, she thought,
he’s destroyed another cell phone.