The Mark (Interracial Paranormal Romance) (Toil and Trouble) (17 page)

"It's beautiful," I gushed, holding the fabric to my cheek. I'd never really been one for fancy dresses or gowns--I'd never really had a reason. I'd skipped the prom, and the one handfasting I've been to was casual, with the bride walking down the aisle in jeans and Chucks.

I glanced over at Mom. Her ebony hair created a dark curtain that trailed to the floor. She was frozen, her eyes glazed over. "Mom?"

After a moment, her body shuddered and she sat up rod straight, running a hand through her hair.

"They were t-talking," she said hoarsely. "For once they had something helpful to say."

I could tell from the way she avoided looking at me that her voices were chatting it up about me. "What did they say, Mom?"

She massaged the bridge of her nose then started murmuring to herself, counting out something on her fingers.

"Mom?" I repeated. "You're starting to freak me out."

She turned back to the altar and snuffed each flame with her bare fingers. "You really should have told me about the Trial sooner. We would have had more time."

"Mom," I said, my heart screaming in my chest. "You have to tell me. Before I have a stroke in the middle of the room."

She turned to me, her face brightening. "That's a brilliant idea! Illness would give us more time to prepare and find out who is behind all this."

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just say that," I said through clenched teeth, knocking on wood. I stomped to where she sat, rustling through her magic books. I sunk to my knees beside her and put my hand over hers. "Tell me."

She stopped flipping, then raised her eyes to mine. Her lips were trembling. She was scared shitless. The only time I'd ever seen her this afraid was when I told her dad was talking about cutting off summer visits and when she had to leave the house for my high school graduation.

"Two days," I finished, my eyes widening. "My Trial is in two days and the only defense I have is, "I didn't do it.’?"

Mom gripped my hand tight, her voice strong and sure. "We'll figure something out. We have to."

Chapter Twenty-Two

Playing Nice

Two days. Well technically, one and a half. For the first half of the day, Mom and I'd poured over every book about occult investigation and the truth behind who killed Kenny and Ashton. It had been a waste. We didn't know anything more than we had that morning.

So I'd decided that I was blocking out everything--the likelihood that I was gonna get a really close haircut in a few days, that my boyfriend thought I'd shagged a were, and that I was dying before I could slap Riley upside his head.

I mean, where the hell did he get off? He had no right to stroll in and out of my life as he pleased. He couldn't crush my heart then look at me like time hadn't passed. And then to have the nerve to kiss me, knowing that there was a piece of me that yearned for it.

Damn it.

I stared up at the vaulted ceiling in my bedroom, and remembered the move in. Bruce, I think his name was, was one of the movers. I remember thinking he looked a lot like my dad—short, military style haircut, strong rugged hands, and no-nonsense lines on his face...until he smiled.

"Awfully nice place you got here," he'd said. "Your parents must be proud."

I'd flashed him a sad smile. The last thing my father had said to me before I packed up my Bug, my first gift from NACA, was that if I took their offer and used my 'devil powers' to not come back. Ever. I'd tried to explain to him that I'd always had and would always have magical ability and if the abilities were evil, then so was I. He'd cried then...the first time I'd ever seen. We'd embraced for a moment before he ripped himself away and locked himself in his prayer room.

His prayer's weren't answered. I accepted the job and moved to North Carolina.

As a witch, a necromancer, I'd seen and done amazing things and made more money than any other twenty-one year old without the last name Hilton. When I trained, I'd learned how to hone my skills and block out the voices from the All that haunted my mother. I had a super nice apartment and car, in my name. But what had I given it up for? Giving jilted spouses an extra buck or two? What the hell was I dying for?

"Mom, I don't want to see..." My voice trailed off when I saw my visitor. Jack was standing there, his shaggy hair mussled, his face like chiseled stone.

I pulled myself up, fixing my t-shirt and pulling the blanket over my naked legs. "Thanks Mom," I said sarcastically. "I'm not even decent."

"The guy has seen you in your birthday suit," she said from the living room. "Your concern with modesty is a little late."

"Ugh!" I grunted, throwing back the covers. I marched to the door and slammed it shut, giving Jack and I a little privacy.

"God damn it, Jack!" I said, tears of frustration welling in my eyes. "It was one kiss. One stupid kiss that lasted less than a minute."

I scooted down to the edge of the bed, side to side. "I'm so sorry, Jack." I reached out and touched his thigh. "I'm so sorry."

He slid over, out of my touch. "I didn't come over to relieve your guilty conscience. I have news."

I let my head drop to my hands. "I don't think I can handle-"

"Barius is dead," he said flatly. "Foul play. And he claimed he had a name for me before he was..." Jack paused, making a face. "Fileted."

The whole "kill it with fire" thing is not just a nifty meme, but a pretty damn effective technique when dealing with most supernaturals. The problem is not a whole lot of them just sit idly by as they're barbecued.

I shrugged, rolling a twist around my finger. "No biggie. My Trial is tomorrow and I have no idea who's framing me. But I have a killer dress to wear. It's kinda ironic. And cyclical and all that. My great great great great whatever wore it when they swung her from a tree and now I'm gonna wear it when I'm beheaded. Or set on fire. Whichever tickles the Watchers fancy.”

"Gods damn it, Jade!" he snapped, his green eyes flashing dangerously. "If you won't fight for yourself-" he stopped, collecting himself. "I'm not going to just stop trying. If she can help, give us anything useful, then we're going to here what she has to say. Period."

He snapped off the bed, angling toward the door. "So we're going to see her. I've already contacted her and she's willing to give us some time before she hunts."

"I-"

"I'm not taking no for an answer." He didn't even bother to look at me before pushing out the door. "I'll wait for you in the living room."

I gazed at the closed door and the heavy silence he left behind. I wanted to run back in the living room, tell Mom to get lost for the night, then spend it with Jack and I screwing each other's brains out. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms and wake up and inhale the pillows, the sheets, and my skin, breathing in his intoxicating scent.

But I screwed up.

If I marched in the living room and told Jack it was go time, he'd probably roll his eyes. Or worse...he'd look at me like he had a few minutes ago, hurt and disappointed.

With the clock ticking, I didn't want to stare into the barrel of the gun without squaring things with him. Or at least explaining the kiss, so he didn't think I betrayed his trust for any old were.

I applied a quick swipe of chapstick and grabbed my purse. I'd talk to him about Riley on the way to Chapel Hill to meet the succubus. I'd make him understand.

I pushed out of my bedroom. "Alright I'm ready to-" I eyed my mother, pulling on her blazer. Like she was going somewhere. "Where you headed, Mom?"

I stewed all the way down in the elevator, stomped down to the parking garage, and let out an annoyed sigh when Jack unlocked his Camaro.

"Are you quite alright, Jade?" Mom asked sweetly.

"I'm just swell," I said, forcing a smile.

Chapter Twenty-Three

How They Met

Jack was quiet as he revved the engine and pulled out onto Glenwood. The awkward silence wasn't lost on him though, so he reached for the radio.