The Locket (11 page)

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Authors: K J Bell

BOOK: The Locket
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“Different people, Claire, depending on where we lived. I have followed you everywhere. It’s probably easier for me to show you,” he pointed out, inhaling sharply.

A warm light shined around his skin and I saw Becky in front of me, a childhood friend I met just before I left Northfield. I wondered why I had not seen her at school. The light returned and I saw Gaby, a girl from school that was nice to me when we lived in Illinois. Again he shifted and he was Brian, a boy I knew in Florida. Slowly he continued, changing faces, each one familiar to me. The face I saw next was the man I saw yesterday talking to Maggie, Mr. Marshall. The glow returned and he was Brent once again. He looked at me intensely, measuring my concern.

“I’m fine,” I reassured him. “Just a little confused, I don’t understand. Maggie told me that Logan’s dad said he would leave me alone.”

“That wasn’t Mr. Marshall. It was me. I assumed incorrectly that Logan was harmless so when I saw your curtain move, I shifted to Mr. Marshall thinking it was logical for him to be there after what happened. You have to know Claire, if I had thought Logan was a danger to you, I would have never done that.” He paused and looked down. Pain reflected against all of his features, tormented by the decision he had made. “I failed Claire. I’m not sure how yet, but it won’t happen again. You’re safe with me,” he finished, looking as though he was defeated.

I didn’t doubt his words – I felt safe and protected with him – and had since I first laid eyes on him. Thinking about it, I had felt safe with him my entire life.

“I am so confused, Brent. Why would Logan want to hurt me?”

“He doesn’t exactly. He’s just the Anchor, Claire. Sort of like a host. He’s just entertaining an Adherent. Adherents are much like henchmen. They can’t get to you directly because they can’t show themselves to humans. To be effective, they must adhere to a human. The Adherent anchors to someone they feel is full of hate and usually one that has a strong dislike for their target. This allows them to have complete control over the Anchor. In your case, it was obvious to them Logan already felt hostile towards you, so he was easy to adhere to.”

I interrupted. “Why do these Adherents want to hurt me?”

“Kace sent them, because of who you are,” he replied.

“Who is Kace?” I asked, ignoring my growing fear.

“He’s just a bad person, Claire. Our kind has battled him for centuries and he found you despite our efforts to shield you from him. You see, Claire, you are the one who will stop him.”

“Me? I can’t stop him, I can’t even protect myself,” I interrupted him again. Then I remembered what transpired at the house and how I willed the protective glass shelter around me. That raised another question. “What were those things at the house?”

“Those were Courier’s, also sent by Kace. They carry messages back to him. They came to do a life review. Kace wanted to see exactly what you knew or if you were planning anything,” he explained.

Recalling the film strip of memories that ran through my mind while the strings encircled me, I trembled. The thought of this person who wanted to harm me, knowing every intricate detail of my life, made me uneasy.

Brent continued as though he read my thoughts again.

How does he do that?

“I also have the ability to absorb things that are spiritual, but not inherently human, the Couriers being one of them. Once absorbed, they were no longer able to return to Kace with the information they gathered.”

“How did you know, I mean, that I was in danger?” I asked, remembering that he barged through the door at Maggie’s aware that something was wrong.

“I could feel you. I knew you were deathly afraid. I felt your pain the same as you,” he revealed and my cheeks burned at his words.

“So, you can feel my emotions?”

The very thought made my cheeks blush. If he had that connection to me, then he knew how I felt about him and how often I felt it. Was it even possible to be anymore self-conscious?

He continued, and again, I thought he must have known what I was thinking. Feeling my emotions gave him an insight into my thoughts.

“I only feel them when you are threatened in some way, Claire. It’s a tool that serves to protect you, not invade your privacy,” he reassured me.

Brent explained things to me carefully. I tried to listen but my eyelids were heavy and I had so much to absorb. I was afraid I wouldn’t remember any of our discussion if I didn’t get some rest soon.

“I think I need to sleep,” I said groggily.

“Yes, I think you do, Claire,” he agreed, tucking a loose tuft of hair behind my ear. I liked how he was looking at me. The glint in his eye suggested he knew how much I liked it.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I don’t require as much sleep as you do. As your Aegis, I need to be alert,” he informed me, standing and pulling me up with him.

“Do you ever sleep?” I asked.

“Yes, but I don’t need it the same way you do. The more danger you’re in, the longer I can stay awake. I can go a good week if I have to, and then sleep just a few hours, and completely recover.”

“Oh.” I pondered that for a minute. “Are you going to sleep tonight?”

Brent shook his head. “Probably not.”

“Would you come up and lay with me?” I proposed, wanting to be near him. “I don’t think I’ll ever fall asleep in that giant room alone.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Claire,” he replied, taking a step away from me, making me feel as though I was some predator ready to pounce at any moment.

“I promise I won’t attack you. Jeez,” I teased. “You can leave once I’m asleep. I’ll feel much safer if you’re with me,” I said, pleading with his designed protectiveness, manipulating him in a way I knew would work.

“Okay, but only until you fall asleep,” Brent said with resignation.

I wasn’t known to be capricious so I must have been punch drunk when I ran from the doorway, launching myself into the air, belly flopping right in the middle of the gigantic bed – landing so hard air whooshed from the down comforter. I saw a few feathers float in the air around me. I laughed until I had tears. I laughed until my belly hurt. I laughed until I heard Brent laughing.

Hearing him brought me down from the cloud I was on. I was embarrassed beyond words until I saw his face. He was enjoying the moment as much as I was.

“You are crazy, Claire Blake,” he teased.

“Oh, come on. You wanted to try it too. Admit it,” I teased back.

“Maybe a little,” he admitted, smiling.

“Come on, then,” I said, standing and grabbing his hand, tugging him back toward the door.

He laughed but complied. We held hands and got a running start, belly flopping onto the bed, together this time. Again, I laughed until I ached and he laughed with me. For a moment, it was just the two of us alone in the world with no burdens to bear.

After changing back into my t-shirt and returning Brent’s to him, I climbed under the fluffy covers, resting my head on the plush pillow and let out a heavy sigh. Brent lay down next to me, on top of the covers, as promised. He pulled a stray feather from my hair and we both chuckled.

Brent was a little tense next to me, shifting often, as though he was debating whether he should be here. I felt so tiny lying next to his large frame. I felt safer when he was close to me, as I supposed I should. Protecting me was what he was designed to do. It was inherent in him.

We talked for a while. He told me about his parents and his siblings. He had two older sisters who drove him crazy. They used to dress him up when he was little, make up and all. He talked about his little brother Liam, and how close they had become since he had been home. He talked about playing catch with Liam in the backyard, and what a great fastball he had for a kid. I told him how I always wanted a sister growing up, someone to hang out with that I wouldn’t have to worry about leaving. It wasn’t a possibility for my parents. Something happened during my delivery, and they told my mom she would never have another child. My mom was grateful for the one healthy baby she had been gifted and was happy.

He finally put an end to conversing – telling me to sleep in a way I knew was not a request.

Unable to sleep, I laid there for a while, tossing and turning, feeling Brent’s gaze. I assumed he was watching to make sure I wasn’t crying. His thoughtfulness tugged at my emotions. I rolled on my side facing him, wide awake, but kept my eyes closed. Shifting a little, I pretended to be restlessly sleeping. An internal need to be next to him filled me until I thought I would burst and I moved closer to him. Brent’s breath hitched at my closeness, but he didn’t push me away. I lifted my head from the pillow, still pretending to sleep, and brought it to rest on his chiseled chest, breathing in his warm, powdery smell. Feeling the warmth from his body on my cheek, I allowed it to soothe me. Brent inhaled deeply but made no effort to resist. Twisting slightly, I brought my arm closer to his body. When he didn’t move, I plopped it down on his abs in a manner that didn’t appear intentional. Feeling each ripple of muscle under my palm, heat surged through me. I felt his body stiffen beneath me, struggling with my nearness. He lifted his head from the pillow slightly but lay back down. Taking a deep breath, he gently pulled his arm from under me, lifting it above his head, and rested it on the pillow. Listening to his thundering heartbeat was the last thing I remembered.

CHAPTER 7

“Soul mates tend to find each other during their respective pursuits of their soul missions. Creating a soul mate could be seen as a spiritual reward that we give ourselves, after pursuing many soul contracts rife with discord.”
– Linda Brady

L
ight spilled into the giant room from every window. I was extremely hot and opened my eyes to see why. Brent and I were molded together in a perfect sculpture of human form. He had fallen asleep. He said he wouldn’t but he did. The alarm clock said it was after eleven. I never slept so late. Moving my head slightly, I stared at his beautiful face, trying not to wake him, knowing I was falling for him, hard. Having grown up avoiding developing feelings for anyone, I was puzzled by how strongly I felt for him after only a couple of days.

You’ve known him your entire life.

He said we couldn’t be together, but I didn’t care. I knew how I felt about him and I knew he felt something too, no matter how much he denied it. Reaching up – my urge too strong to ignore – I ran my hand from his temple to his strong jaw. He bolted upright.

“Claire, what’s wrong? Are you all right?” he asked anxiously. His breathing was rapid as he looked around the room.

“I’m good,” I assured him, smiling impishly. “I’m better than good, actually.”

Shifting away from me, he hung his feet over the side of the bed.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep. Jesus Claire, what are you doing to me?” He ran his hand through his hair furiously. I had come to learn that action was something he did this when he was upset. I found it incredibly sexy.

“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling guilty for pushing.

“Look, you just need to understand a few things. Our kind, have certain guidelines – rules if you will. There are things that are predetermined and beyond our control, and designed specifically for each of us. The protocol is to be orderly and run smoothly and you just keep breaking all the rules, Claire. I can’t think clearly around you and things I’ve always controlled easily are suddenly difficult. It’s so frustrating. You’re driving me insane,” he confessed, glaring at me with those piercing blue eyes.

There he goes again, talking about our life being designed for us and beyond our control. If he didn’t want to be with me I wished he would just say it. He didn’t need to be so passive aggressive. I could take it.

My eyes burned as the tears started. He turned back to me, putting his hand gently on my jaw, brushing my cheek with his thumb.

“Please don’t cry,” he said, his voice cracking. “I don’t mean to hurt you. We just have some things to figure out. It will be okay.”

I nodded.

“Look, why don’t you take a shower. I’ll make breakfast and we can talk about all of this while we eat?” he offered.

I agreed, needing a minute to clear my head. Deciding on a bath, I filled the huge tub with lavender bubble bath. While waiting for the tub to fill, I observed my pale skin in the mirror, noticing the marks on my neck were darker than before. It irked me. I sunk into the scolding hot water. It was exactly what I needed. My body relaxed. The lavender was soothing, smelling divine, as though the sweetly scented bulbs were blooming in that very room.

Enjoying the aroma of the suds, I thought about what Brent said that we ‘couldn’t’ be together. How could he deny it? It was simple chemistry. Chemists have written a lot about human chemical reaction in recent years. It was simple pheromones. The bodies involved release them, and if a reaction occurred, the bond was formed. Just like magnets. If you hold one next to iron or steel, the attraction occurs until the magnet bonds. Put the magnet next to carbon and the magnet repels, unable to bond. Chemical bonding was something I knew could not be scientifically denied. How Brent could not understand that was driving me crazy. Perhaps he did understand it, but couldn’t accept it.

A sickening thought came to me as I recalled what he said.

Our kind have certain guidelines – rules if you will, things that are predetermined and beyond our control, designed specifically for each of us.

Oh, hell no! No-no-no-no-no. The thought crashed through me like a brick through a glass window. We couldn’t be together because I was
designed
for someone else. That had to be it – why he pushed me away – why he wouldn’t return my affection. He had hinted as much when we discussed
A Room with a View
. I didn’t know who it was that designed us, or whatever it was, but if they thought they got to choose who I fell in love with, they were very mistaken. I hurriedly exited the tub, determined to confront Brent.

Entering the bedroom, I spotted my bag and looked through it for clothes to put on. The smell of cooked bacon filled the room. My stomach grumbled loudly in response. Trying to remember when I ate last, I quickly dressed and headed downstairs calling Brent’s name. He didn’t answer. Anxious thoughts zipped through my mind, assuming something awful happened. I calmed my overactive imagination, took a deep breath and went out to the deck. I heard him below. He set up breakfast up on a small table in the garden.

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