Read Charcoal Tears Online

Authors: Jane Washington

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Supernatural, #Psychics, #Romantic Suspense, #Teen & Young Adult, #Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Mysteries & Thrillers, #Romantic, #Spies, #Science Fiction, #Young Adult, #Fantasy, #high school, #Love Traingle, #Paranormal, #Romance, #urban fantasy, #Magic

Charcoal Tears (27 page)

He blinked, and I could see a battle waging in his eyes. He was thinking of leaving me. I knew it. I fixed him with a watery glare, and he let his head fall back against the headboard, a laugh tickling the air between us.

“It won’t make a lot of sense to you right now, Seph, but you do
not
want to touch me in that way.” His laughter died off gradually, and he grabbed the back of my head, pulling it to rest against his chest, recapturing my wrists. “I know you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and his hand passed over my hair. “The bond can go to hell.”

The door opened as my eyes began to drift from the slow stroke of Quillan’s fingers in my hair, and I didn’t even have to look up to know that Silas was back.

“You seem to be handling her just fine.” Silas closed the door behind him but didn’t approach the bed.

Quillan shifted, and I heard the sound of a pillow thumping mutedly against the carpet. “Stay,” Quillan offered. “I’d rather you didn’t get arrested tonight.”

“I can look after myself.”


Stay
.” Quillan’s voice rumbled through his chest, upsetting my sleepy daze. I stirred, lifting my head, but he pulled it back down, continuing his stroking. After a long time of silence, I was roused once again when Silas grumbled something. Quillan laughed quietly. “You’re welcome.”

When I woke up the next morning, Cabe was stretched out on the bed beside me, his arms notched behind his head. He was fully dressed, his soft brown curls still damp from a shower. “You should wake up
Mr. Quillan
.” He winked. “We’ll be late.”

I froze, and everything from the night before slammed back into me with a rush. I sat up slowly, the arm around my back slipping. I had fallen asleep curled into a ball in Quillan’s lap, and he was somehow sleeping, even though he was sitting upright, his head resting against the headboard. I scrambled away from him, jumping from the end of the bed. There was a pillow against the wall on the floor. Quillan blinked his dark eyes a few times, coming awake, and I saw the wariness pass over them as they settled on me.

“Seph.”

I didn’t know what to say.
What the hell had happened to me
? My memories of the night before were unfocussed and confusing. I opened my mouth, closed it again… he was waiting. He was dreading what I would say. I glanced at the floor again, wondering when Silas had left, and why he had slept on the floor. The scratching feeling rushed back into me even though I wasn’t touching anyone, and I winced with the sudden shock of it. It descended into rolling waves to accompany each memory of the night before, and then finally faded. I stared down at my feet, Quillan’s words the night before filling me with relief.

“Thank you,” I finally said, looking back up at him.

The tenseness seemed to drain from his shoulders, and he nodded, slipping out of the bed. He glanced at the pillow on the floor and then seemed to ask Cabe a question with his eyes. Cabe shook his head, and the look of alarm that crossed Quillan’s features had my mouth drawing tight in fear. Quillan left the room quietly and Cabe’s sunny smile returned.

“You going to get ready?” he asked me.

“Sure,” I replied, not moving. “Where’s Silas?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re a little too smart, it’s annoying. If you hurry up and get ready I might let you hold my hand tonight.” He smirked and wiggled his brows at me, pulling a surprised laugh from my chest.

“God,” I groaned. “Please don’t bring that up again.”

I glanced at the little white clock on the bedside table and saw that it was seven in the morning. So it seemed that we were going to school after all. I flipped open my suitcase and moved all of my stuff into the walk-in closet, and then stuffed the suitcase under the bed. There was a bathroom attached to my room as well, and I rushed through a shower and brushed my teeth before dressing in a navy blue pleated skirt and a white button-down shirt. Cabe had been dressed very nicely when I had seen him; with a tie loosely fastened over his designer shirt and slacks. I combed the tangles out of my wet hair and towel-dried it into damp curls before leaving the room. I paused at the top of the stairs when a soft sobbing sound carried to me from the other end of the narrow hallway leading to the second glass room.

I followed it curiously and then found my feet stuck to the floor as Tabby looked up from the bed she had been sitting on. There were tears running down her face and her eyes were red and puffy; her brown hair was tangled and her eyes were agonised. My mouth fell open and a sound came out, but I couldn’t form the words I needed in that moment.

She swiped at her cheeks and managed a smile. “Sorry, darling girl, I didn’t mean for you to see this.”

My feet stepped forward without my permission. “W-what’s wrong?”

She waved a hand absently at the room. “These rooms were set up for the Atmá, but you don’t even know what that word means, do you?”

I shook my head, and her eyes started to water again. Her head hung, and I got the feeling that I had just broken her heart somehow.

“I thought so,” she managed, giving me another watery smile. “At first I suspected… I mean they had never brought a girl to meet me… but then I saw you with Miro and Silas, and you are the same with them. If you were either of their Atmá you wouldn’t be so close with all of them. It’s… it’s sweet the way they care for you.”

I really had no idea what she was talking about. I walked to her and put a hesitant hand on her shoulder, forcing it to rub back and forth. She sighed and leaned against me, scrubbing at her cheeks again.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wondering what I was apologising for and trying to push away my discomfort at having to touch her.

“It’s alright, honey, you’re just an innocent in all of this. Their father has paraded so many girls in front of those four… before they were even two years old, they had arranged dates with other Zevghéri. And the things he did to Silas…” she hiccupped on another sob. “But it didn’t happen, and now they’re reaching the cut-off age. I don’t think it’s
going
to happen.” She sniffled a few more times and then squared her narrow shoulders and pushed up from the bed. “No matter.” She shook her head. “Go on down to breakfast. I’ll be along soon.”

I patted her arm awkwardly and escaped the room, ashamed at my quick retreat. There had always been something a little off about Tabby, and I was trying to come to terms with the notion that it might have been
sorrow
all along. I could have asked her about the Atmá, or I could have asked about what Silas’s father had done to him… but it just didn’t seem like a good idea. Noah and Cabe had warned me not to say anything to her, and I didn’t want to have to lie to as the tears were still wet on her cheeks. I walked silently toward the dining room, not willing to chance any more encounters for the morning, and paused when I heard voices, trying to gauge who was within. It sounded like the boys, so I crept closer and put my ear to the door.

“How is the bond starting to form? It doesn’t make sense, nobody has slept with her in that way, or even kissed her for more than a few seconds—”

“More than a few seconds?” This was Quillan.

“Yeah, Cabe kissed her, remember? When she showed her mark,” Noah answered.

“That wouldn’t be enough to form the bond, and certainly not for all of us,” Cabe said.

“It’s very strong.” Quillan spoke quietly, and I pressed my ear harder to the door to hear him better. “You all saw her last night. It’s putting pressure on her; I’ve never seen the strain affect anyone so badly as when you both left her last night. When I came into the room she wasn’t even breathing.”

“I know,” Noah growled. “I was there, Miro. We
had
to leave her, before we did something we’d all regret.”

“Speaking of…” Cabe’s usual tone of soft mocking was replaced by something with a sharper edge. “How did you fare?”

“Fine,” Quillan answered.

Someone grunted a non-committal reply.

“Have you found out anything about prolonging the bond yet?” Cabe asked.

“Not yet,” Noah answered. “It’s not exactly encouraged. I tried to enlist one of Father’s whores, but she wanted to do other stuff instead. He must be ignoring his harem again.”

“That’s not good,” Cabe sighed. “When he ignores them, he gets all preoccupied with finding our Atmá.”

“It’s worse for Silas,” Noah said. “At least Father likes Miro. He seems to hate Silas more and more with each year, probably wouldn’t care if he died and Miro got the Atmá to himself.”

Quillan laughed, but there was no humour in the sound. “If he died, she would die too… and so would I… and because of our unique situation—”

“We would all die.” Noah sounded thoughtful.


Eavesdropping
?” someone whispered in my ear.

I jumped, bumping my head on the door. A hand wound around my arm, drawing me back. I ran my eyes up the tattooed arm and gulped, meeting deep green eyes. Clarin grinned at me, highly amused. The door behind us swung open and Cabe looked out, surprised and then wary as his eyes landed on Clarin’s hand, still holding me.

“Clarin?” He sounded pissed. “Could you be a little more gay, please?”

Clarin threw his head back and laughed, and then firmly tucked my arm through his, drawing me past Cabe with a dramatic sweep. The others looked up, and Clarin tightened his hold on me. He led me to a chair and sat me down, dipping beside my head to whisper.

“I don’t swing that way, mouse, but it’s fun to tease. Relax.” He squeezed my shoulders, and I actually did relax a little bit. He slid into the seat beside me.

“Morning, Seph.” Noah stretched his legs under the table, trapping my feet between his.

A smile caught my lips, some of the colour fading from the shame of having been caught by Clarin. “Morning.”

Tabby walked in then, armed with two coffee mugs. She set one of them down in front of me, dropped a kiss to my head, and moved to an empty seat. Everyone blinked at her, but I smiled and picked up the cup, sipping some of the coffee. Tabby was either apologising or thanking me, and I didn’t really mind which. I liked that she thought of me.

Abe bustled in, setting down plates of food and pots of tea. Everyone dug in. When it was time to leave for school, we piled into the garage, where I was completely unsurprised to find a line of cars locked away. There was a bright red Lexus, a black Lincoln, a silver Porsche SUV and some alien-looking sports car in a steel-grey colour with black stripes.

“Silas?” I asked, pointing at the car.

Cabe laughed.

“She knows us too well already,” Noah said. “Alright smarty-pants. Which one is mine?”

That was easy. I pointed at the Lincoln.

“Which is mine?” Cabe asked, dropping an arm over my shoulders and pulling me into his side.

I grinned and kicked the tire of the car we stood next to. It was the red Lexus.

Quillan shook his head in bemusement and headed for the Porsche with Tabby. I wondered why she didn’t have a car of her own, especially when the veritable car showroom that we now stood in. “Try to stay out of trouble today, you three.” He paused, his hand on the door, looking at me.

I paused too, preoccupied with a kind of emptiness that had begun to crawl its way through my body—spurred on by whatever matching beast was stirring behind Quillan’s current consideration of me. After today, Quillan would be my teacher again. It felt like we had grown so much closer, and it hurt to feel him drawing that line between us again. I could see it happening, like he was building an actual barricade as he stood there, placing me firmly on one side and him on the other. He set the last brick into place, his hand flexing around the handle of his briefcase.

“Stay safe, Seph.” He sounded unsure.

I nodded, once. He got into the car and motored out of the garage. Cabe squeezed my shoulder, and Clarin looked after the car, confusion settling over his features. The Porsche pulled to a halt halfway down the driveway, and we all glanced over to see someone walking up from the road. I broke away from Cabe and ran down the incline, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. Silas paused upon seeing my approach, and Quillan’s car door opened. I skidded around him as he got out of the car, and Silas took a step back, looking as though he braced himself for my approach. I halted before him, my brows pitching together as my eyes dripped from his face to his hands, to his scuffed jeans and back. He had purplish, mottled bruising covering his left eye and clouding over the left side of his face. His shirt was ripped, the pocket torn off and the buttons missing, but the worst of the damage seemed to have been done to his hands

I swallowed several times, my throat tight, and reached for him. He allowed me to capture one of his hands, and I could hear the others gathering behind us.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. His knuckles were busted open, his hands bruised and covered in dried blood. “Angel,” he repeated, softly this time, “I’ll be fine.”

This was my fault. I knew it, I just didn’t exactly understand how.

I wanted to scream at him, or hug him, or threaten him, but Silas wouldn’t respond to any of that. He was unreachable, high atop some kind of iron tower, leaving us mere mortals to bang our fists against the portcullis in frustration, begging to be let in. Instead, I battled to swallow my emotions as I dropped his hand, squared my shoulders, and stepped into his personal space. His eyes flared, and I caught the tightening of his fists by his sides—causing me to wince before I could catch it. The lingering violence was still there, ringing the usual glittering onyx of his gaze until it was a fire that burned deep into his soul, promising things that were unimaginable in their darkness.

“I wonder what kind of job I can get around here.” I kept my tone low and even, my head thrown back so that I could see the terrifying after-effects of savagery that still seemed to taint his face. “I have plenty of experience, don’t you think?”

His eyes bore into mine, and I caught the flicker of surprise before he drowned it in intimidation. He had forgotten my secret, the one thing that me and him had in common: we knew how to survive. Inexplicably,
my
survival now required something from
him
, and I wasn’t above manipulation if it meant that he would think twice before doing this to himself again.

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