Jordyn

Page 17

 

  "I am more concerned about those you have not delivered to us," Haniel answered tightly.

  "Hey, man, that's not my decision. My job is to get them to the Between. If you've heard otherwise, you're talking to the wrong being," Emrys said, all humor gone from his voice.

  "I have been informed that many of you Traders have bypassed the Between," Haniel shot back.

  "Informed by who? Who are these sources? Are you a reporter now?" I interrupted, trying to defuse the situation. The tension radiating off of Emrys was tangible.

  Emrys laughed out loud at my questions while Haniel merely acknowledged them by pulling his eyes away from Emrys. I guarantee Haniel had no idea why it was funny, but either way, he seemed uninterested in divulging where he'd received his so-called information.

  "So, Emrys, where exactly do you live?" Krista asked, once again steering the conversation to a safer topic.

  "I have a home in the foothills, just beyond Boulder in Colorado that I stay at sometimes, and a small chateau in Italy that I visit when I have time. Lately, I've been hanging out a lot, locally," he said, smiling at me.

  "We can see that," Krista answered dryly. "We'd appreciate for the time being if you could refrain from taking Jordyn anywhere that would take longer than an hour to get to by car. "

  "What kind of car?" Emrys deadpanned before cracking a smile. "Kidding. I'll keep things local. "

  "And no sex," Mark blared, out of the blue.

  "Holy frick, Uncle Mark," I screeched.

  "Dear, no," Krista said at the same time as me, shaking her head negatively at him.

  "What, too much?" he asked with false innocence.

  "Just a bit," she answered, holding her fingers up an inch apart.

  "More like this much," I complained, spreading my arms as far apart as they would go while Emrys looked on with his normal grin.

  Krista rescued the conversation again by asking Emrys about his childhood. It was interesting to hear his stories of his childhood. I couldn't help picturing him as a little boy playing stickball on the streets of Brooklyn or ice skating in Central Park. He talked about tagging along on job sites with his dad during the summer and collecting bottles with his friends so they could see a double matinee at the local theater. It all seemed so wholesome and simplistic. Although he was years removed from that time, he recalled it with amazing clarity. I felt envious that he could remember things more than sixty years old when I couldn't remember anything from a year ago.

  After an hour of chatting, Krista finally ran out of questions for Emrys, and I could tell by her relaxed posture that she grudgingly approved.

  "So, is the interrogation over?" I teased as she finally sat back.

  "For now," she answered, smiling at me.

  "So, can Emrys and I go for a walk on the beach?" I asked, hopping to my feet.

  "Sure," she said, looking at Mark for his input.

  "As long as you're back by eleven," he answered.

  "Okay," I agreed, not sure where the curfew had come from, but at the moment, I just wanted to leave the oppressive living room behind.

  "It was nice to meet you," Emrys said, seemingly sincere while standing to shake Krista's hand.

  "Same here. "

  "Sir," Emrys said, holding his hand out to shake Mark's hand next.

  He gave Haniel a curt nod before following me out the French doors.

  "That was fun," I grumbled, pulling my shoes off so I could walk barefoot on the sand.

  "It wasn't that bad. Your uncle kind of reminds me of my dad. I like that he's overprotective of you," he said, linking his fingers through mine.

  "It's all nonsense. I mean, seriously, I could kick all of your butts at the same time. "

  "Sometimes there are other dangers besides the ones right in front of you. Being able to kick butt doesn't always protect you. Your relatives are wise beyond their years. If you wouldn't have told me their ages, I would have guessed them older. "

  "I think that has to do with the whole fiasco they went through when they were basically my age. Mark's father was one sick bastard," I said, wondering if he knew any of the history surrounding Krista and Mark.

  "That's what I heard. He was a hot topic at the time. The fact that he destroyed The Light's greatest weapon seemed to be the talk of every realm for a while," he said as we stepped onto the night-cooled sand.

  "Yeah, what he did changed a lot of things from what I'm gathering. The Guides and Protectors are still important, but Krista and Mark are definitely more powerful being Ascended. Anyway, I think all the crap with Mark's dad prematurely aged both of them. Krista's mom says Krista was always an old soul, but I think it's more deeply rooted. Of course, getting saddled with a teenage freak probably didn't help," I joked.

  "You are pretty freaky," he teased. "Thinking you're all badass and stuff. "

  "Really?" I asked in a calculating voice.

  "Yeah, I mean, look at how puny your arms are," he said, reaching over to give my arm a pinch.

  My foot whipped out, catching him at the ankles in midstep. Unprepared for the attack, he lost his balance and was in the process of falling to the ground when he reached out for me. The momentum of his fall dragged me down with him before I could dig my feet in the sand. Together we tumbled to the ground.

  I landed on top of Emrys, making him grunt from the impact.

  "Told you I was badass," I said, bracing my hands on the sand so I could rise.

  Emrys snaked his arms around, holding me in place. "If you wanted to get me on my back all you had to do was say so," he teased. "But, I think your uncle might not take too kindly to this," he added, making his point clear by tightening his hold on me.

  "No, I'm thinking this borders on compromising positions," I started to chuckle until I realized that laughing while sprawled on top of him brought certain areas to life. My skin began to tingle as I took stock of how very male he was.

  "Yeah, laughter is probably not the best idea, sweet stuff," he said, pulling me closer than I could have imagined possible. He raised his right hand and cupped the back of my neck.

  "Don't sweat it, love, it's just like standing up and kissing," he crooned deftly, flipping me over so I was cradled beneath him.

  "Right, I'm sure my Uncle Mark will totally buy that excuse," I said before pulling his mouth down to meet mine.

  Everything melted away with the touch of his lips. It was cliché to say fireworks erupted, but there was no denying that something exploded inside of me. He groaned against my lips before deepening the kiss. Every nerve in my body heightened with awareness. A sense of rightfulness settled over me. I may be a novice at the whole kissing thing, but at the moment, I felt sure no other person had shared a kiss quite like this. Our positions left me feeling hyperaware of every contour of his body as he balanced himself above me. I never wanted the kiss to end. We freely explored each other's mouths, taking what rightfully belonged to us. At the moment, I felt like I truly belonged somewhere, and that somewhere began and ended with the person on top of me. Suddenly, the touch of our lips wasn't enough. I wanted more with an intensity that would have scared me if he didn't feel so right on top of me. I tugged his shirt up so I could run my hands over the hard planes of his sculpted chest. His desires matched mine. He pulled back slightly, lifting my shirt before lowering his torso back on mine. I gasped with pleasure as his warm skin touched mine. "You can say that again, sweets," he whispered, rocking his hips gently against mine.

  "Damn," I mumbled as my body began to react to the intimacy of his movements. Promises of no sex were forgotten as I fantasized what it would feel like with no clothes separating us. My desire spiraled out of control as the idea took hold. Running my hands down his back, I slipped my fingers just inside the waistband of his low-slung jeans, pulling him even closer. After a moment, Emrys broke the kiss.

  "We have an audience," he murmured aga
inst my lips.

  "No big surprise," I said, trying to douse the fire that was still raging through me. "Haniel?" I guessed, figuring that was a safe bet, although I wouldn't have put it past my uncle to throw a bucket of cold water on us.

  "Yep, and guessing by the negative energy he's sending out, he's not enjoying the show," he answered, dipping his head down to give me one last kiss before hoisting his body off mine and pulling his shirt back into place.

  I sighed instantly, feeling deprived. Every nerve in my body missed what was about to happen before we were interrupted.

  Emrys chuckled. "I figured if I play nice they won't throw you back in your jail cell," he said.

  "Truth. I'd hate for my uncle to start digging a dungeon in the backyard," I said sullenly as I rose to my feet reluctantly. I straightened my shirt before throwing a glare over my shoulder at Haniel.

  "Like that would have kept me out," he said, chuckling softly beside me. "Do you want to head back to your house?" he asked, watching me brush the sand off my backside.

  "Not unless you have plans. I'm enjoying this rare amount of freedom despite my stalker," I answered, not sparing another look at Haniel on the bluff behind us.

  "Sweets, all my plans begin and end with you," Emrys said as we strolled the opposite direction from my house.

  "Nice line. I bet you say it to all the girls," I quipped, trying to ignore the rapid fluttering of my heart. "What about your duties? Won't you get in trouble if you're not bringing souls to the Between?" I questioned, more than a little intrigued on how it all worked in the much talked about realm.

  "I only use that line on the girls I see on Thursdays," he teased. "As for my duties, I guess you could say I have some comp time. "

  "What do you mean 'comp time'?"

  "Well, the Seer that is in charge of the Between has set guidelines on how many souls we should be delivering in each Leap of time. I always reach my goal early," he answered nonchalantly.

  Rapid questions swirled around in my head. "Is the Seer some kind of Angel or is he a Daemon?"

  "He's neither. He was created way back in the beginning to control the Between. "

  "What do you mean 'created'? By The Light or The Dark One?"

  "By both. Each had an equal part in his development. He can be cunning one moment and compassionate the next. He was created by both so that he could peer into every soul and determine its rightful place. Sometimes, it takes mere moments to see into the depths of a soul, other times it can take much longer. It all hinges on what the soul has been hiding. A soul is very complex and has a built-in defense mechanism designed to hide its true nature. The Seer was created to break through those defenses. "

  "Do the souls get to plead their cases? Like a chance to seek retribution or whatever. "

  "Yes and no. The Seer will not send a soul to The Light or The Dark One until he strips the soul of all defenses. Some crimes are overlooked, so in a way, I guess you could call it retribution. "

  "And what is a Leap amount of time?"

  "It's a measure of time that coincidentally lands on the day humans have deemed Leap Year. I'm not sure which Trader started calling it Leap, but it just stuck. "

  "So, every four years you are given a certain number of souls to deliver. What if a soul needs to be taken to the Between and everyone has reached their quota?" I asked.

  "Usually, one of the Traders will claim it, kinda pro bono, I guess you could say, but to tell you the truth, it doesn't happen that way very much. Remember, we only handle the questionable souls. You'd be surprised how many souls go one way or the other without needing to be judged. Still, some of the new Traders believe if they collect enough souls maybe The Light will reconsider and let them enter the pearly gates after all. Eventually reality sinks in. "

  "That's crap," I exclaimed.

  "It's the way it is and who's going to argue with The Light," he said bitterly. "It's funny that The Light, who is supposed be the embodiment of forgiveness, throws away the keys on us Traders. "

  "Did the Seer peer into your soul?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know the answer.

  "Are you asking me if I was heaven-bound?" he asked quietly, stopping midstep to look at me.

  I nodded.

  "Does it matter?" he asked, eyeing me with sudden wariness.

  "No," I lied, but really, I wasn't sure if it did or not.

  "I was never taken to the Seer. My soul was determined the moment I died. The Daemons that collected me extended an offer to let me remain behind. It would seem my crimes from my human life would serve me well as a Trader," he said. "I guess I should be thankful. My ass could be frying in hell right now if I hadn't taken the deal. "

  His words ran through my head on a continuous loop. I suddenly felt uneasy as bile rose up in my throat and my vision momentarily blurred. Which crime would serve a Trader? Only one came to mind, and I loathed to even think it. Could Emrys really be a murderer?

  "You want me to take you home?" he asked with a sudden edge in his voice as he took in my expression.

  "I don't know. I'm just trying to process everything," I admitted. "I never expected. . . I just hoped…" my voice trailed off as I tried to form a coherent sentence.

  "You hoped what? That I was hanging out as a Trader because I was a choir boy in my past life? You really think I would have chosen this existence if I would have had a choice?" he asked angrily.

  "I don't know. I guess I was hoping that you weren't some murderer!" I yelled, pissed that I was the one under attack. "In case you missed it, I kind of work for the good guys," I said, stalking away in a huff.

  "Wait a minute," Emrys said, making the mistake of snagging my wrist.

  Anger coursed through me and my instincts took over. I flipped my hand around in one fluid movement and twisted his arm behind his back. "Don't touch me," I hissed, making it clear I could hurt him if I wanted to.

  "Jordyn, I wasn't a murderer. I was a thief," he said quietly, not struggling against my hold.

  "A thief?" I huffed out as I tried to tamp back my anger.

  "Yes, a thief. A very good thief. "

  All the anger in me dissipated as quickly as it had gripped me. "A thief," I repeated, releasing his arm. "You were being sent to hell because you stole stuff?" I asked incredulously, sinking down on the sand in disbelief.