"Remember to breathe,” Trent reminded me.
I took several ragged breaths, dragging oxygen into my lungs, my frazzled brain short circuited. This had never been a possibility in any of my childhood fantasies.
"I know this must come as a shock,” my Mother said softly, her voice as gentle and melodic as I'd dreamed it would be. “If there had been any other way, we'd have gladly considered it."
"How did this happen?” I asked, dazed.
They sat across from me on the loveseat, deliberately close to one another. He placed his hand on her leg and she mirrored the movement, placing her fingers on top. It was unimaginable. This could have been them at Grandma's house years ago, before I'd ever been conceived. My parents appeared young enough to be my siblings, or my friends from school.
"It's a long story, one we've waited years to tell you,” she explained. “Luca and I met my sophomore year in college. He had flown to the states as a last experience in his mortal life—his final sabbatical. He never expected to meet me or that we'd fall in love so quickly. The months passed, and when it was time for him to return, he told me everything."
"I was pregnant by then,” she whispered, smiling sadly. “And I knew I couldn't join him. You were more important. So I told Luca I didn't want to see him anymore and wouldn't consider making the trip or leaving my life behind. And I told your Grandmother that it was for the best that we had parted ways. She didn't question any of it. She just accepted my story. Then, you were born, and I was happy again. Everything was perfect.” She paused. “Until the day of the accident. After that, I thought everything was over."
"But it wasn't,” Luca smiled, speaking up and taking over. His words came out rushed, spoken excitedly so that I didn't have the opportunity doubt his sincerity. “I'd changed by then but I couldn't let go. I asked Trent to watch over Lily for me and that was when I found out about you, Emmaline. She didn't tell me, I never knew. So I kept eyes on you both, just in case you needed me. Trent called with the bad news about your Mother and I came back. I waited for her to improve, but she wasn't going to. She was dying, Emmaline. I could smell it when I walked into her room in the hospital. So I changed her. Her mind was still functional and my blood repaired her injuries. I brought her home with me, where she always belonged."
"But we never forgot you,” Mom interrupted, imploring me to believe her with her intensity and voice. “We wanted you to have a normal life for as long as you could, but selfishly, we always wanted you here. We've watched you grow up from a distance, always there but out of sight."
"And now I'm here,” I murmured.
But for how long, I couldn't say. I hadn't counted on this scenario.
Trent exchanged a look with Luca.
"Trent told us about Caleb,” Luca said, his voice remaining strictly neutral. “And I've spoken with Sam about it as well. You understand that the bond could potentially pass, given time especially."
"Excuse me?” The switch in topics, especially since I hadn't spoken of Caleb, came out of left field.
I glowered at Trent. He didn't even bother trying to look guilty. He'd read my thoughts again.
"If you want to return, we understand completely,” Luca spoke carefully. “But if it's meant to be, what will some time here hurt? There is so much for you to learn, and we've waited so long."
"Things are different now,” I confessed.
I had my daydream all wrong. My Father wasn't pond scum and my Mother wasn't dead—not really. Surreal didn't even begin to cover how I felt about what had transpired in the last few minutes. As strange as it was to see them together, it was even more bizarre thinking of them as my parents. Their youthful appearance alone was staggering.
"I'll think about it,” I agreed and they smiled with obvious relief, “But I need to make an important phone call."
"Absolutely.” Mom smiled happily, her eyes shifting to a vivid leafy shade of green. “I have so much I want to share with you, Emma. So much that I want to tell you now that you're here. Your Father has waited twenty years for this moment."
I smiled distractedly while glaring at Trent. If looks could kill, he'd have died twice. Once again, he had invaded my privacy.
I lifted my hand in his direction.
"You promised. Now hand me the phone."
I took the cell into my room, the plush soft carpet wrapping around my socked feet. I dialed the number, adrenaline making my heart flutter nervously.
The phone rang over and over; no one answered or clicked over. I tried again—same thing.
I spent the next hour repeating the cycle, waiting a few minutes and trying again. I started to panic, worry making me think the worst. I was about to give up when I remembered Sarah.
I rushed to the closet, digging the folded piece of paper out of my jeans and dialing the number. She picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?"
"Sarah?” I asked, sighing in relief. Her voice was so comforting. “It's Emma."
"Emma, you made it!” I closed my eyes, visualizing her perfect face.
"I did, there is so much to tell everyone. That's why I'm calling, actually. I can't get through to Caleb. Is everything okay there? He's all right, isn't he?"
The other end of the phone went silent and I thought we'd lost the connection.
"Sarah?"
"I'm here.” Her voice was torn and sad, even over the line. I heard her take a deep breath. “Caleb won't answer the phone, Emma. It's really not fair for me to be the one to tell you this. He should do the responsible thing and talk to you personally. But since he won't, I suppose it's fallen to me."
"What are you talking about?” I asked uneasily, standing utterly still, a sense of dread settling into my chest.
"Caleb has informed everyone that he's not having you back. After Parker attacked you...Caleb took that really badly, Emma. He doesn't want you to try and contact him. He thinks it best that you sever the bond while it's so new, so there is less pain for both of you."
"Can that even be done?” I whispered brokenly, my entire body erupted into uncontrollable trembling, goose bumps covering my bare skin.
"It's not unheard of,” she answered quietly, her voice breaking slightly. “I have your ring. He wants me to get it back to you through Sam. I'm so sorry, Emma. You have no idea how upset we all are over this, how angry some of us are."
"I don't understand,” I said, voice cracking. Tears welled, escaping freely, a trail of sadness streaming down my face.
"Caleb says he can't protect you as well as the DeViard's can. He really does believe he is doing right by you. He swears he only wants you to be happy and safe.” She added softly, sounding close to tears, “He's even convinced Derek."
"Can I still call you, to see how things are?” I choked. I forced my hand against my mouth, muffling the sound of my crying.
"You can call me anytime, Emma. I consider you my friend, no matter what happens."
I cleared my throat, forcing back a sob. “Thanks Sarah. I'll call you later, then."
"Anytime, Emma, I mean it. Take care of yourself."
I dropped the phone, collapsing to my knees. My crying quiet at first, growing louder. I didn't want anyone to hear me. I wasn't ashamed or embarrassed; I was hurt, devastated and overcome.
My chest felt as if it caved in on itself, the pain growing more intense, twisting and breaking. The organ known for keeping your body alive served an all together different function I'd been blissfully unaware of—rending horrific pain.
I crawled to the bed, climbing onto the mattress and resting on top of the comforter. I pulled a pillow into my face and cried. Ragged wails of suffering and anguish blessedly muffled against the down feathers.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 20—Starting Over
My head was throbbing, forehead knotted in concentration and attentiveness. I pushed the energy outward, focusing not on where it lay inside but rather where I wanted it to go. The tingling built, distracting me unt
il I forced it into the background—pushing harder, extending myself outward.
The bowling ball floated midair, spinning from the force I was emitting, manipulated to hover over the ground. I pushed more energy out, bringing it to eye level. The ball swayed, shifting from side to side, up and down.
I kept it aloft for several minutes, feeling the humming began to wane, signaling it was time to stop. I sent the ball down, using my hand as a guide and grinding my teeth together. It landed in the ground with a dull thud, sinking into the soft grass.
I threw my head back and closed my eyes, sighing loudly as I rubbed my temples. Each time was easier, but control was essential, and I had issues with a roving mind.
The sky was baby blue overhead, the sun covered by dense clouds. I breathed in the sweet air, so fresh, so different. The cool breeze revived me, giving me additional energy.
The last two months were difficult, ticking by like delayed second hands on a vintage clock. My twenty-first birthday had come and gone, and if it hadn't been for my parents, I wouldn't have noticed. I didn't care about much anymore, even when I tried. So I diverted my attention elsewhere, learning about my family and my heritage, blocking out the pain in the only way I could.
I wasn't some plain Jane as I'd once believed. I, like others with my blood, had the power to manipulate borrowed metaphysical energy. I could lift things with it, catch things with it, and stop things with it. If I made the choice my parents persistently hoped for, I would also be able to manifest my own energy to use at will, along with other abilities still unknown at the present.
"Twenty-three minutes that time, not bad.” Trent grinned at me from a lounge chair, his bright blond hair shining in the sun. I was certain his brilliant blue eyes matched behind the dark sunglasses covering his lovely face.
Trent had become my mentor, sharing his energy with me, teaching me to control it. He'd sent someone to take care of business abroad for several weeks while we worked together. We'd started small, going from golf balls, to softballs, to ten pound bowling balls. I learned it wasn't only the size of the object that mattered. It was also determined by mental control and energy amassed.
"You didn't give me enough juice.” I laughed quietly, dropping my arms to my sides and lowering my face.
"I've told you before. I'm ready when you are."
The innuendo was there again, more and more prevalent the last couple of weeks. I sighed and closed my eyes.
Trent had been trying to get through the kinks in my armor for weeks. He was always around, making me laugh when I wanted to cry. Teasing me constantly and tormenting me relentlessly. It was a welcome distraction at times and a painful reminder at others.
Caleb never did call. I'd spoken a few times with Sarah in those precarious first weeks, unable to stop myself from picking up the phone in hope Caleb might be there with her. She wouldn't give details about him or what he was doing, but she swore she had him under her watchful eye.
From what I gathered, he was back at Haven's, working the Pit. She didn't sound happy about it, but if I knew Sarah, she'd stand behind whatever got him through this tumultuous time.
When my ring arrived last week, I knew it was over—for him at least. I thought I was past it all until Keith handed me the little package with the tiny black box inside.
"Don't, Emma,” Trent voice whispered in my mind.
I didn't think of Caleb for this very reason. I'd told Trent to stop talking to me like this. It was too intimate, too personal. But he was always listening in the back of my head, and delving inside my mind was second nature to him by now.
"Trent,” I huffed the air out of my lungs in annoyance, watching him remove the dark sunglasses and place them onto the lush grass. “I've told you—"
He leapt from the chair, tackling me to the ground. His strong hands wrapped around to cradle my body, pushing my back into the soft grassy earth. He restrained my arms above my head with one hand, tickling me mercilessly with the other. I squirmed, lifting my hips and bucking underneath him.
"STOP,” I roared in torment. My laughter breathy and broken, shards of air halted with each movement of his fingers along my ribcage.
"Do you yield?” he asked, starting again when I didn't answer immediately.
I thrashed around, unable to stop myself. Since he'd discovered how easy this was, he wouldn't leave me alone. Damn my mind and the secrets it divulged—such as my ticklish impediment.
"That's cheating!” I complained loudly, laughing uncontrollably as his fingers plucked over my ribs and stomach.
"Do you?” he asked again.
I tried to pry myself free to no avail. His grip was too strong. I withstood the tickling until it hurt to laugh.
"Okay! Okay! You win!” I cried out, my laughter ebbing as he leaned in to claim his reward.
When he started this “game” I fought him relentlessly, only caving in when he taunted me mercilessly. As with every kiss before, he gently brushed his lips across my own, lifting away and staring into my eyes. He didn't take advantage, push or expect anything more. His eyes were amazing inside his mesmeric face. He truly was beautiful beyond words.
"Let me take you to dinner, Emma. Why won't you let me do this properly?” he asked softly, using his free hand to caress the line of my jaw.
I closed my eyes, exhaling. “You're in my mind enough to know the answer to that question."
"You have the right to be happy. Don't let him take that from you. I know how you feel about me."
He nuzzled my neck with his nose and I reopened my eyes to stare at him. Only a fool wouldn't reach out with eager hands for what he was offering. Trent was powerful, smart and sexy. He had a wicked sense of humor, and he was so incredibly easy with me.
It would be so simple to give in.
All I had to do was take that tiny first step...
"I promise to always be easy with you,” he whispered sensually against my ear, rubbing the skin at my neck with his nose.
"We should go inside.” I changed the subject, pushing against his shoulders. “Mom's been antsy with Dad away on business."
He lifted his body in a singular movement, holding out a hand to bring me to my feet. He dropped the discussion, waiting for another opportunity to bring it to my attention. It had been a carefully choreographed dance on his part. Swooping in when he knew I wouldn't deter him. Giving me space when he knew I would. It wasn't difficult; time wasn't a factor for him.
"I still don't understand why she has to stay here when he goes away on business.” I shook my head, walking through the spongy grass in the direction of the manor.
"She's a common, and commons are only allowed to attend the house meetings as servants or blood slaves. Besides, she wouldn't want to partake in the entire fiasco, trust me."
My Mom learned the hard way after her change that while being married to my Father helped, it didn't change anything. The vampire houses were very particular about their rules and arrangements.
Dad caused a monumental rift when he came for her. He had been in an arranged marriage since he was a little boy to another child raised among vampires in Spain. It wasn't common to see children raised among their kind, but it did happen. When he defied their orders, he paid stiff penalties. He was forced to use his unique abilities as they requested, whenever they requested, for the next eighty years; one hundred years total for his betrayal.
As he was raised among the supernatural, his natural talent was accessible early in his childhood. His ability to manipulate metaphysical energy was amazing. Many believed his talent remained unparalleled among any of the royals. At a mere ten years old he levitated a car with his mind, and today he could erect a barrier around himself that couldn't be penetrated physically.
But it was his vampiric abilities that truly made him an asset. Inflicting severe pain without so much as damaging one hair on someone's head came in handy. He could torture informants for hours on end, getting the goods necessary and keeping the offender perfectly whole.
It was a nasty talent, one my Father despised.
"I hope he's in a better mood this time around,” I murmured, remembering the last time he returned home after an obligatory trip.
"He won't be,” Trent stated flatly. “What he does is the most invasive form of torture. It would wear anyone down. I'll be ecstatic for everyone involved when his time is met."
"It hardly seems fair, using his abilities like that. And I'm supposed to want to join a group of people who use each other like that? I don't know, Trent. It seems barbaric to me. Even worse, if my ability is something they want for themselves, they'll find a way to get to me, too. I don't want to be forced to hurt people."
He didn't deny it. “Of course they'd try, but it is your choice. Your Father, on the other hand, broke the rules when he shamed the entire Acarons family. He's lucky he got so light a punishment. Remember, he never used his talent for anyone until he went for your Mother. That was the catalyst that brought about his downfall."
"I bet they loved the excuse. It gave them exactly what they wanted,” I said angrily.
My Father would return every other week distraught and moody, his eyes steely grey. His foul temper and short fuse kept us all on edge, including Mom.
"Have you decided if you'll accompany us to the gathering in London?” Trent asked casually, changing the subject. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye.
"I don't know. I haven't made up my mind yet."
Attending the gathering surrounded by vampires would signify my willingness to be transformed. I wasn't ready for that step, too unsure of what I wanted.
"You don't have to be changed if you go,” Trent insisted, slipping easily into my mind. “It's an introduction only."
"That may be, but they would still expect it to happen eventually. Not to mention, that entire figuring out my abilities thing they do gives me the willies."
I cringed at the thought of standing in front of all of them, having a vampire discover my unknown abilities while they looked on. It was bad enough uncovering what I'd be capable of, especially knowing what Dad could do. Add my phobia of public attention into the mix, and it was a double whammy.