Blakeshire (Insight #9)(11)
The last thing I expected was to find Britain in bed with another girl.
Britain showed up a few months back. He was chasing Charlie, wanting the light of her soul for survival. Odd, I know, but anyway he is apparently a dark Escort that has to feed on light energy to reside in this world. If he gains enough energy, he plans to rule The Realm, the place where evil is bred.
He got over Charlie or figured out that, like I said before, we don’t do love triangles. He started hitting me up, calling, texting, showing up at odd hours. I admit that he intrigued me, that the first time I saw him I felt recognition. It was like I knew his energy—and not necessarily in a good way. But still, I wanted to explore that. Over the last few weeks, we had gotten close. I would even go so far as to say I was really starting to fall for the guy, even though he was not my type. Not much for blue eyes, blond hair, and athletic builds. I like them dark and mysterious.
Go figure, Aden and his brother were against me hooking up with Britain, but Charlie had my back, as always.
When Willow popped up out of nowhere, Britain did his best to convince me not to go. He told me I was a martyr, that it was too dangerous. That I should stay with him, that he would protect me. That what was going on was Charlie’s fight, not mine. Like I would have stayed behind for a boy I barely knew—let my best friends flee to another dimension. Seriously?
The moment I caught him cheating on me a few days ago flashed through my mind.
Charlie and I had manifested at the threshold of his bedroom door. I can still clearly remember how rich the aroma of vanilla and deep cinnamon was in the room; that was his classic scent, at least the way he always smelled to me. Before meeting him, my nose was normal. Boys smelled like boys, and ghosts smelled like nothing. Britain had awakened memories in my soul that I could not quite see or understand; I just felt them.
Britain was lying on his back on the far side of his king-size bed. Even though his eyes were closed, I knew he was awake, simply because I had never seen the boy sleep; it was almost like he didn’t have to.
His shirt was off, and the cascading candlelight shadowed each muscle in his broad chest. Next to him, lying on her side, casually draping her arm across him with closed eyes and an exhausted smile was Anna, a girl that changed boyfriends like they were underwear.
At that time, my insights had been put on some kind of supernatural steroids, so I felt everything on a physical level. The rage I felt then hurt so bad that it almost made me faint.
His steel blue eyes opened slowly, and I felt his relief to see me. He was a fool. I was prepared to kill him, and in my brief absence I had been taught to do just that—to use my energy as a weapon to lift, throw, shift, whatever—with nothing more than a thought directing my energy.
A glance from me tore the sheets off them. Anna stirred but didn’t wake.
“Anna,” Britain said calmly.
“Too tired, baby,” she mumbled.
I didn’t even have to think about it; my jealous emotions knocked her out of the bed and flat on her ass.
Right about then, she decided to play the classic role of trailer park trash girl.
“How nice of you to stop by,” Anna said with a fake yawn. “But I’m afraid we are not up for company.”
“Tell your whore to leave,” I seethed.
Britain’s dominant stare glistened with anticipation. “Anna, dear, my girlfriend wants you to leave my bed. Obey her.” His tone was enticing, echoing the allure his entire nature created. He was born to seduce light.
Not this light; not anymore.
Anna crawled seductively back onto the bed. “Not a chance, lover. This is my place now.”
“Now,” Britain growled.
Anna scurried away after turning about seven shades of crimson and realizing that once again she had been used for nothing more than pleasure. That girl was never going to learn that love was not physical.
Charlie said something cold and more than likely deeply intelligent to her before they both left the room, leaving me alone with Britain and the evidence of the ultimate sin he had committed. Of course, he didn’t see it as a sin; he saw it as away to get my attention.
That aroma of his, along with his energy, reached out for me, clearly claiming and embracing me as his own. Obviously, my energy struck him where he stood. I knew I had hit him hard enough to knock him across the room, but he didn’t even sway as he held my stare, leaving me to believe, like I had at first sight, that he was more powerful and dangerous than he had ever let on to anyone.
I had always been fast at seeing people. Britain was always oddly blank, only reflecting the present or images of me. That time, though, he let me see his night. He wanted me to see the dinner he and that girl shared, the wine, the dancing, her luring him into his bedroom.
He wanted me to see his essence reach out for hers and pull her energy into him, his real source of food, or so he thinks. I’m not so sure I believe what he says about his race of souls. All the pieces don’t add up.
It didn’t matter that he had not touched her, not so much as kissed her. She was still in his bed, a place that I hadn’t even been. He was dead to me at that moment, but I guess he thought he had a point to prove.
“Took you long enough,” Britain said, as if he were welcoming me home after a long trip.
“You could not be more right,” I said through clenched teeth. “I should have seen this coming. I should have listened to Draven.”