JAIME REED BOOKS
 
 

bURNING EMERALD

Dating the most popular guy in school is every girl's fantasy. But to Samara Marshall, he's a dangerous force come to rekindle their tangled past. Only it's not her past. . .

Samara faces a challenging senior year. Controlling her inner demon is a struggle, even with help from her Cambion boyfriend, Caleb. But her life takes a turn for the worse when the hottest jock in school begins pursuing her--especially since Malik's anything but what he seems. They share a connection from a forgotten past--a secret that could destroy her and Caleb.

As the attraction becomes harder to resist, Samara is now at the mercy of the demon within her. To break free, Sam must fight a battle where she is the enemy and the prize. . .and victory will come at a deadly price.

 
 
It doesn’t take much to make me happy, but the simplest things are sometimes the hardest to get. But when if finally arrives, heaven help those who try to take it away from me.
— Jaime Reed, Living Violet

 

excerpt from

BURNING EMERALD

CHAPTER TWO

In light of everything else in my life, things stayed the same at Buncha Books, much like how cartoon characters never aged or changed clothes. I found it refreshing.

Fusion jazz pumped through the speakers. A group of girls giggled and read steamy paperbacks from the erotica section. Young entrepreneurs hovered over their laptops, abusing the free Wi-Fi the store provided. Old men who mistook the bookstore for a rest home hogged all the sofas while reading the newspaper. Yep, business as usual at Buncha Books, set under a thick aroma of fresh cookies and hot espresso.

Alicia Holloway was on duty with me at the café, perky and animated as ever, which put a damper on my afternoon. Her elfin face, hopeful brown eyes, and twisty braids always reminded me of a black woodland sprite who couldn’t find her way home. She stood by the barista machine, watching a tin of hot milk bubble with foam.

“I’m not judging or anything, but it’s just weird,” she began, concerning the unlikely attraction between Caleb and me. “Isn’t there, like, a rule somewhere about not dating your co-workers?”

“Isn’t there, like, a rule about minding your own business?” I mocked while toweling off my wet hands, taking extra care to dry the gold bracelet on my wrist. I rotated the chain so the nameplate stood face-up, and Lilith hummed on recognizing her name engraved in elegant script.

Alicia let out a shrill meow and set a row of fixed drinks on the coffee bar. “Somebody forgot to bring their charm to work. I’m just saying—you should be more low-key. People talk, you know.”

I watched her rush to the register to ring up the next customer. “Yeah, like people are talking in school about your tragic romance with Garret Davenport.”

“What!” she squeaked, dropping the customer’s change. She quickly apologized then turned to me with alarm. “What did you hear?”

Shifting my lips left and right, I crooned, “Oh, stuff. Like you and him secretly dating before he died and now all three Courtneys want your head on a platter, that’s all. You’re making enemies in high places. Be careful. Girls in our school are vicious.”

Lifting her chin high, she poured coffee mix and ice in the blender. “I’m not scared of them.”

My gaze wandered to the book floor and I smiled. “Oh, so if say, Courtney B. rolled up right now, you wouldn’t be scared?”

“Not at all.”

“Good to know, because she’s heading to the counter right now.”

By the time I turned around, Alicia was a ghost with the blender still running. Only the swinging door of the back kitchen told me where she disappeared. After finishing the drink order for her, I took my time going to the register, and prayed for patience while in contact with the redheaded diva.

The three Courtneys were renowned in my school for their reign of tyranny, and Courtney B. ruled as the bloodsucking queen of the dammed. The recent death of Garret Davenport shot the trio to stardom, and they milked the sympathy vote by wearing all black the first week of school. Telling from Courtney B’s ensemble, the period of mourning was over.

Decked out in designer labels from head to toe, she approached the counter with a strut only suitable for the runway. All that was missing was the wind machine and the slow motion camera. Aside from being painfully vapid, Courtney owned the unmatched talent of squeezing insults into every conversation. Succeeding in working my last nerve could very well be considered an achievement, but for fear of getting fired, I decided to limit my responses to two words or less.

Her handbag thumped on the counter while she scanned around for the prey that vanished from sight. Disappointed, she narrowed her icy gray eyes at me. “Hi. You’re in my Spanish class. Sam, right?”

“Sí,” I said, deadpan. I couldn’t believe this chick. We’ve shared at least two classes since sixth grade and she still didn’t know my name?

“Is that, like, short for Samantha?”

“No.” I pointed to my name tag.

“Oh. My bad. Anyway, you know that hot guy that works here, Caleb something?” She looked around the store.

Tapping my finger to my lips, I contemplated. “Six-foot-two, brown hair, purple-blue eyes, always smells like cake? Yeah, that would be my boyfriend.” I stressed the last word.

“Oh!” She looked surprised for a moment, appalled even, then swept a cursory glance up my frame. “Well, maybe you can help. I was wondering if you could talk him into deejaying my party on Halloween. He did such a great job at Robby Ford’s birthday party; I’d love to have him, um, spin for me.” She twirled a lock of hair around her manicured finger.

I should be used to women drooling all over my man, but that required more patience than I could afford.

“I’ll be sure to run it by him, but it would be more business-like coming from you. You can find him in the music section. That way.” I pointed to the other end of the store using my middle finger, a gesture too blatant to overlook.

Applying loud suction, Courtney slid her tongue over her teeth, perhaps to see if her fangs elongated.

“Thanks. Doesn’t seem to be your kind of thing, but I’ll see if I can add you to the guest list too.” With a neck-spraining flip of the hair, she flounced away.

Resting my weight against the counter, I exhaled slowly, absorbing the sting of her verbal attack. This was an interesting turn of events. Courtney’s Halloween bashes were the talk of school, but unlike Robbie Ford, her parties were for A-list only. Mia would be so jealous if I got an invite before she did. The only down side was subjecting Caleb to that harpy’s whims.

This was a good opportunity for him. Soon he would leave his position here to ‘scratch’ with full force, but his budding deejay career already left us juggling schedules to see each other. Music was the mistress in our union, the only love I didn’t mind sharing with him.

“Is she gone?” A timid voice came from the back kitchen.

When I confirmed, Alicia crept out, a wash of relief ran across her face. I shook my head, knowing this doe-eyed sophomore needed more life experience and pessimism to survive high school. The mother hen in me wanted to keep her innocence intact, so my watchful eyes were never far from her.

Seeing her trepidation, I said, “If it gets too bad, you have my number, okay?”

“Thanks.” She gave me a weak smile and went back to the register.

Though I only worked a few five-hour shifts during the weekdays, time seemed to run at a snail’s pace. Alicia tried her best to entertain me with the latest gossip, but it didn’t seem the same with Nadine gone. Nothing was the same with her gone.

I found myself comparing Alicia to Nadine, noting how she took forever to wrap the food when we closed, where it would only take Nadine ten minutes. Alicia chatted and laughed with the customers, where one was considered lucky if they got service, let alone a smile, from Nadine. Alicia was an old friend and I would flip out if something happened to her, but the injustice prevailed.

That fact prevented me from finding closure, and I kept picking that scab until it bled. Time might patch it up, but the open wounds remained untreated and at risk of infection. Even if I knew all that would happen, would it make a difference? If Nadine hadn’t died in my arms, Lilith wouldn’t have needed to abandoned ship and move into my crib. Maybe Lilith was her farewell gift, a secret she entrusted me to keep.

After shutdown, I clocked out at customer service then ambled to the break room in an almost dream-like state. Our monthly book meeting was tonight, which was reason enough to wallow in sorrow, but seeing where Nadine once sat deepened my depression another notch.

A part of me expected to see Nadine pass through the door, her blond hair bobbing behind her head in a haphazard bun. The staff’s seating arrangement was an unspoken rule, so I wasn’t the only one who paused at the empty folding chair by the soda machine. Even Linda, the store manager, shifted her eyes to the chair, as if an unholy curse awaited anyone who sat there.

I felt the gentle grip of a hand around my wrist, and that one touch caused my body to relax. Instantly, the doom and gloom atmosphere melted away, and in its place laid an intimate cocoon. I knew that impression by heart, and the senses that came with it: the warm sweetness of baked goods and a ton of nerve. Never mind butterflies: a colony of bats flapped inside my stomach, a rush of elation tightened my sternum.

Caleb smiled down at me as he guided me to the seats. He used his free hand to push back his hair only to have it tumble down and cover his face again. I watched the light brown strands fall in a slight curl by his jaw. A blazing amethyst hue filtered through the curtain of locks, a color that projected his mood and his spirit’s needs.

“It’s just a chair, Sam. It’s not haunted,” Caleb said and sat next to me.

“Not the chair, just us,” I mumbled as my mind drifted again to my belated friend.

Nadine’s life energy—the ones that came with Lilith— eventually dissolved, but the memories were kept on file for safekeeping, every birthday party, every bedtime story, every wild adventure, save one. It was strange how every facet of her life opened at the ready to me, all but that tiny blank spot of her history, a scene spliced during post-production.

To say Nadine was a jaded woman would be a blatant understatement, but even she loved deeply at some point, a memory that was hard to penetrate. This feeling I detected was far more dangerous than the ones she had for her family, a love that those with good sense shouldn’t have for a faceless man. So it shocked me that someone with a fairly decent, albeit morbid, head on her shoulders would entertain such mush. And not tell me about it! We used to tell each other everything.

The mystery entertained me through the meeting to the point where Caleb shook me to attention when it was over. I completely lost track of time, not to mention I didn’t get to share my book. While the crew filed out of the door, Alicia tossed me a parting glance, grinning in triumph.

Caleb extended his hand then helped me to my feet. His smile produced broad dimples, two parentheses buried deep in his cheeks.

“What did I miss?” I asked.

“Alicia got her wish. Specter: Part III got voted book of the month. She went through a ten-minute dissertation of the intricacies of having a ‘totally hot’ ghost boyfriend.” Caleb mimicked Alicia’s squeaky voice perfectly. “You know there’s a movie coming out about it?”

“I heard.” I collected my bag then followed him out.

After wishing everyone good night, I stepped into the cool night with Caleb practically stuck to my back. His arm wrapped around my waist and squeezed, lifting me off the ground. I squealed, which caused the crew to leer at us from the parking lot as he carried me to his jeep.

A honking horn came from a blue SUV driving by. “Get a room!” Alicia yelled from the passenger side window as her dad drove her away.

“That’s not such a bad idea,” Caleb whispered in my ear before kissing the back of my neck.

I wiggled against his hold. “That’s it. You are unfit to be in my company, sir.”

“Aw come on! Don’t be that way.”

“Unhand me, contemptible cur! ’Else purged such lechery from thine purpose, you nave!”

Snorting a laugh, he set me down. “All right, Lady Macbeth, have it your way.”

I pressed against his car door and frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. “Nothing. I’ve got a lot on my mind.

“Oh yeah? Does it have to do with your eye?” He grazed the fading bruise with his thumb.

On contact, the day’s events resurfaced as did the slight throb from my injury. “Okay, this is gonna sound weird, but I think I saw something today.” I told him about Malik, the Picture Day light show, and the ominous feeling that came with it. Caleb stayed quiet until I finished, but wore an incredulous look on his face.

“Sam, Cambions don’t turn transparent in harsh light, and as far as I know there are no others like us in town. We’re kinda spread out for a reason. And you said you’ve known this guy for years and no warning bells have ever gone off, no strange color eyes, no girls being rushed to the hospital, so I think you’re good on that front. But if it happens again, let me know, okay?” When I nodded, he asked, “Did you feed at all today? That might’ve been the cause of you seeing weird stuff.”

“I did afterward during lunch, but I hate feeding off of guys I know. I have to see them every day, and it’s awkward enough as it is. When I take in their energy, their memories come with it and they’re hard to get over. Most of them I block out while others are too juicy to ignore. Don’t get me wrong, it has its privileges, but it gets real crowded up here, you know.” I tapped my temple then rubbed my face. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to vent. My brain is all over the place. And I didn’t get to share my book.”

He leaned into me, getting good and comfortable; not in the slightest rush to leave. “Share it with me. What’s it called?”

I put a finger to my lips. “Shh.”

He looked around the parking lot. “What?”

“No, that’s the title, ‘Shh,’” I explained. “It’s about angels and the battle between Heaven and Hell. According to Hebrew myth, an angel enters the womb of every unborn child and places a finger over the lips. They silence the baby from revealing the secrets of Heaven, including God’s true name. The proof of that secret is that small dent in your top lip.” My finger danced over the outline of his mouth, making him shiver. I could tell he felt the gravitation, a pull rooting from the chest, joining our two magnets together.

Dropping my hand, I continued. “Anyway, this autistic boy doesn’t have that dimple. He’s a mute, but he’s been leaking secrets all through his writing and artwork. A group of angels come to Earth to kill the kid, because once heard out loud, humanity will remember the secrets told to them and all of Hell will break lose, literally. It’s a race against time because the kid starts mumbling in class out of nowhere.”

“Sounds good! Let me borrow that when you’re done.” His lids grew heavy as he inched closer.

I tried to push off his jeep, but his nearness made it impossible. He was stalling, squeezing a few more minutes alone with me, but our time was running out.

“Did you want to come over to my place for a bit? I made a new playlist that you haven’t heard—” He stopped mid-sentence when I flashed my bracelet in his face.

The gold chain shimmered under the parking lot lights, creating a sufficient force field against his libido.

Caleb’s shoulders slumped under the weight of defeat. “I thought that was only activated for emergencies.”

“So did I, but Mom’s got it hot wired to her laptop to track where I am. Cambion or not, my curfew still applies until I’m eighteen and out the house. It’s just a safety measure. Can’t be too careful these days.” I presented a gentle smile.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pulled back and allowed me to pass.

My new ride, a metallic gray Nissan Juke, parked in the next row—new being a relative term. It was new to me, and love allowed me to overlook the high mileage and stench of fried bologna that an entire bottle of Fabreeze couldn’t remove. It was mine and I earned it, and that was enough for me.

I didn’t make it two feet when his hand caught my wrist and pulled me back into his arms.

“Caleb,” I whined, but felt just as needy. “I have to go.”

“Well, am I at least allowed to kiss you? I’ve waited all day to do so. Indulge me.” He lowered his head for a kiss that never came.

The sound only had a second to register in my ears—soft at first then louder as it drew closer—ending in an explosion not even a foot from where we stood. Natural instinct took effect and I ducked from the whoosh of air and sailing fragments of glass.

I hit the ground hard—scraping my knee on the pavement—and covered my face and eyes from the blast. Tiny shards rained on my head, over my shoulder, and tinkled against the concrete. Caleb’s body fell over mine; his weight crushed me as he withstood the brunt of the attack. It’s funny how situations can change. One minute, I held my boyfriend, the next I was on the ground, curled into a ball.