Borrowed Ember(27)

Feeling her chest squeeze in fear at his distant and cold tone, Ari asked softly, “What about Trey?”

“He’s on assignment. I’l cal him and let him know what’s happened.”

“Jai…” she tried again, her hand reaching out to gently brush his arm.

He stiffened, his shoulders hunching up to his ears. “Let’s just go.”

Fearful and anxious, Ari took a breath and fled into the Peripatos, heartbroken that she not only had to deal with the fact that the Seal was gaining more power over her, but also with the fact that Jai – unlike Ari – may be incapable of loving someone who was broken.

8 - Hope Dies Last

The feel of Ari’s energy beside him distracted Jai. She stil trembled a little beside him and despite the way he had reacted (like an idiot) to her loss of control and use of the Seal, Ari stil edged close to him, seeking comfort.

Jai wasn’t mad at her. He knew that’s what she thought, but he wasn’t mad. He was scared for her, and he didn’t know what to do for her other than to keep a careful watch over her. And that only made him feel impotent and angry at himself.

Making Ari feel like crap wasn’t helping. She was scared already too. He didn’t want her to think she was in this alone and yet… that’s what he’d done. Why?

Jai nodded at the man who greeted him, but his face seemed so far away.

Ari was screwing him up. She was destroying his focus and filing his mind until there was nothing in it but her. And last night… He closed his eyes and bowed his head, remembering how it felt to have her in his arms. The softness of her skin, the brush of her gentle hands, the vanila scent that clung to her silky hair; the breathy sighs… her loving smiles.

Her ‘I love you’s’.

Longing coursed through Jai and it was dangerous. Dangerous and addictive and…

Why can’t I say it back? He slanted a look at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed steadier now as she addressed Michael Roe, Falon’s father and leader of the Roe Guild.

Stil… why?

You know why, a vicious voice whispered in his head.

Nicki.

Jai clenched his hands in to fists, forcing the memory back… the one memory that scarred him more than al the others…

… His stepmother Nicki Bitar stood sneering at him, her arms folded over her chest, her manicured nails tapping ominously on her upper arm. It signaled

violence. On her left stood her youngest Stephen. At ten years old he stood warily by his mother’s side. And on her right stood David, six years older than Jai. An eighteen year old man-boy. He was grinning at Jai with anticipation and bloodlust in his eyes.

Nicki eyed the man holding him. Twenty year old Tarik whose strong hands were gripping him so tightly there was no way the much younger Jai could get

out of his hold. “Don’t let him go, son. Stephen and David are going to take their turns punishing the boy for bruising David in training.”

Jai pulled again at the arms gripping his. “We were training!” he yelled indignantly.

“Really, mom.” Tarik sighed. “If David let’s himself get taken unawares by a twelve year old, he deserves the bruise. Can we just let this go?”

Nicki’s eyes flashed in outrage. “No! If you love me, you will stay and see the boy punished.”

“Fine. Let’s get this over with. I have a life you know.”

“Stephen,” Nicki pushed her youngest forward. “You first.”

Eyeing his half-brother with something akin to horror, Stephen shook his head and turned to look back at Nicki. “Mom, do I have to?”

“Yes,” she hissed. “I told you he’s a bad boy. He deserves this.”

“But I don’t want to.”