"That is unknown. All that is certain is he is a Trader, and as such, cannot be trusted."
"Sounds like you don't like him much?" I asked Haniel, but he said nothing more.
I wanted to argue, but I could tell my aunt and Haniel were beginning to look worried at my interest.
"Jordyn, there is something you must understand. Soul Traders are gifted in the art of persuasion. They use this skill to convince the souls to go with them, but it can also be used on humans. They are extremely dangerous," Haniel said, obviously seeing through my indifference.
"Gotcha. Soul Trader bad," I said, working to hide my sarcasm. Insanely hot, but bad, I thought. Feeling I had pumped as much information out of them as I was going to get, I made a big production of yawning, giving the impression I was exhausted.
"I think I'm going to do some backseat diving and then hit the sack," I joked, trying to lighten the tension that had crept into the room.
"Jordyn," Krista chastised, smothering a laugh as Mark groaned again and dropped his head in his hands.
"Mark, chillax, dude. I save that for extracurricular activities after school," I sassed as I headed to my room. I could hear Krista's muffled laughter behind me.
"Teenagers," I heard Mark mutter.
"That was us just a few years back," Krista reminded him as I closed my bedroom door.
Grinning wickedly to myself, I kicked off my Converse shoes that never seemed to go out of style, shimmied out of my jeans and shirt, and tossed them in the vicinity of my laundry basket. I opened my pajama drawer and pulled out a pair of cutoff sweats and one of the spaghetti-strapped tank tops I liked to sleep in.
Once I was dressed in my nightly attire, I plunked down on my lavish high poster bed and leaned back against my mound of pillows. I studied the posters plastered to my ceiling. Steamy guys from all my favorite shows grinned down at me in their hotter-than-sex-on-a-stick way.
I smiled somewhat grimly when I remembered how appalled my uncle was when I painted my walls deep purple and then proceeded to cover almost every inch of them with posters of hunky men. Being linked to one individual all his life, he'd never felt the sexual appeal of any other individual. Me, I could fantasize about all the hot guys I wanted because I belonged to no one.
You'd think that idea would give me comfort. After all, it seemed barbaric and degrading to be pretty much arranged to be with one individual.It's not like this was the Middle Ages or something. But when you saw it firsthand, it was anything but that. The Link relationship seemed beautiful and somehow natural.
I was way too keyed up at this point to sleep. I jumped off my bed and began pacing the floor. My mind was occupied with the same quandary I wrestled with every night. I came from nowhere. I searched my mind day after day for an inkling of my past before Haniel had appeared in the doorway of my hospital room, but all I ever find is a blank slate. Who forgets about their own family, their childhood, where they grew up? I can't tell you what my mother looked like or what cologne my father wore, nothing. I'm like a freak of nature, a lone wolf, a third wheel. Whatever way you diced it, that was me. The anomaly.
Anomaly. That was Krista and Mark's idea. They thought they were bestowing some freaking cool title on me when they'd discussed my abnormalities with me when I first joined them a year ago without a clue of who I was. Haniel had delivered me to them, claiming I had been in an accident that had resulted in my loss of memory. The whole thing felt like bullshit to me, but he digressed anytime I tried to question him. Krista and Mark welcomed me with open arms even though they had just barely tied the knot. I'm sure having a teenager pawned off on them during the honeymoon glow was a serious mood killer, but neither of them acted like it mattered. They treated me like I belonged. They were wrong though. I didn't fit in with them. I didn't have a Link like everyone else in their group. I didn't have someone who liked to be with me no matter what, even if I was being a brat. I wanted that someone to break up my monotonous dream-free nights that were filled with nothingness. I didn't want to be the freak of the family—but I was. According to Haniel, I had no Protector, and never would. My Protector had died before he was ever thought of, before he was ever conceived. He never existed, which left me the odd man out. I wasn't a Guide, an Ascended, or even really human it seemed. I was basically the heavenly equivalent to the bearded lady you'd find at some carnival.
I opened the double French doors that faced the ocean. Moonlight streamed into my room and a gentle breeze carried the tangy smells of the sea. This was my favorite part of the whole house. An elaborate pool had once occupied the area where my doors were, but it had been taken out. Krista had turned the space into a tranquil garden that highlighted the ocean view. A large outdoor fire-pit was the main attraction with its low circular benches Mark had sanded and built when he was on summer break from the college where he taught. Other small seating areas were scattered about discreetly amongst the native plants that provided privacy without taking away the beauty of the ocean beyond.
I walked into the garden, watching the waves below breaking relentlessly against the shore. Despite everything, I loved living here. This was the only home I knew. It was my sanctuary. My wayward thoughts were cut short when a sudden movement in the distance caught my eye. I squinted in the dim light, trying to make out the shape as a cloud passed in front of the moon, obscuring my vision. My instincts put me on alert. When the cloud moved on, my pulse raced into hyperdrive as the moonlight spotlighted the leather-donning individual standing on the shore…Emrys.
I stepped toward the edge of the bluff, strangely drawn to him. It felt like an invisible string was attached to my stomach, pulling me to the stairs that led to the beach below. I fought the sensation, remembering Haniel's warning from earlier, but the invisible string tugged harder. I shook my head so he could see my resistance.
His gentle laughter seemed to drift toward me in an almost hypnotic haze. It was intoxicating until, with a small arrogant salute, he disappeared into the night.
CHAPTER THREE
I woke the next morning groggy from a lack of sleep. After Emrys had disappeared, I went to bed, but managed nothing more than tossing and turning half the night thinking about him. I wondered why he had sought me out, and if maybe I intrigued him half as much as he intrigued me.
I rolled out of bed and shuffled through the quiet house seeking a caffeine injection. Thank God someone had switched on the coffee pot, I thought while pulling my favorite oversized mug from the cabinet. I filled it with the fragrant blend that was making my mouth water, and added a splash of my favorite pumpkin spice creamer before heading to the patio with my steaming bliss.
"Hi, Mouse," I greeted our large marmalade cat who was lounging by the open patio doors in the living room. He pretty much stayed in the same spot all day, waiting for late afternoon to approach so he could bask in the warm rays of the sun.
He opened a groggy eye and squeaked his typical morning greeting to me. It was his squeak that had earned him his name. He didn't meow like a regular cat, but would squeak his messages out to us like a squeaky toy a dog might play with.
"Morning," Krista greeted me as I sat in the cushioned chair next to her.
"Yep, it is," I quipped.
"Brat," she said, setting her laptop to the side so she could ruffle my hair. "This is growing on me," she said, holding up one of my dark locks.
"Me too, plus it'll totally match the lip ring I'm getting," I deadpanned as I took a sip of my drink.
"Oh my god, Jordyn, no," she said, grimacing in distaste.