Chapter 20: I’ll be your hero

Kell:

Amara grips my hand tightly as we walk up the stairs. I can tell that she’s nervous. “Don’t worry, beauty queen. They’ll love you. Rowan will probably hit on you, and you know Carrick and Mikhail. I swear they went off to college, but they spend more time here than they do at school. I guess it’s the perk of living nearby. Plus, it can’t be worse than your mom.” I say jokingly.

She glares at that comment, which amuses me.

“Shut up.” She mutters with a heated glare. It looks like my kitten has claws. She looks so sweet, wearing her hair up in a messy bun. She’s wearing a long white t-shirt that falls from her shoulder and cut-off jeans with red combat boots.

I laugh when I think of the glare she shot me when I told her to change in front of me this morning. She narrowed her eyes and closed the bathroom door on my face in response. It was a little disappointing, but also funny.

Mikhail opens the front door with a scowl. “Where the hell have you been, Kell? Azazel said you were searching for some girl…”

I shrug my shoulders and step in with Amara behind me. Mikhail finally spots her and quirks, understanding brow. “Ah, I see.” He holds his hand out to Amara. “You must be Amara?”

Amara nods shyly and shakes his hand. “Yeah, hi, it’s nice to meet you, Mikhail.”

Mikhail’s smile widens. “Well, come on in. We are about to have some brunch, and you’re invited.” He gestures to the dining area, where my family is patiently waiting.

Nevaeh steps into the hallway smiling happily and enfolds her hand into Mikhail’s. Then she notices Amara and loses her smile.

I frown in consternation at her reaction. No one else seems to notice, so I don’t comment on it as I usher Amara towards the dining table. Amara gazes around in wonder, a soft smile adorning her lips.

I look around the house, trying to see everything through her eyes. The house is just as beautiful inside as it is outside. The foyer is all polished wood with stairs that lead up to the second floor. To the left, there is a living room area with a black leather sectional and a large flat-screen television. The dining room is modern, with a large gray wooden table and chairs of various styles.

Carrick and Haley are sitting with their backs to the doorway. They’re both talking and smiling, unaware of anyone else. Rowan and Azazel are both sitting across the table from them, and Alex sitting at the head of the table. Mikhail leads Nevaeh to two chairs next to Azazel’s as I lead Amara to the ones next to Carrick and Haley. The table is laden with sandwiches, fruit, and several drinks.

Azazel looks up and smiles. “Fancy seeing you here, mate.” He widens his eyes as he appreciatively runs his gaze across Amara’s form. I want to punch him in his pretty-boy face when he wiggles his brow and says, “And he brought us a beautiful girl. I feel like the luckiest sod in the world.”

I ignore his comment and clear my throat. “Everyone, this is Amara.” I hold out a chair for her and say, “You already know Carrick, Haley, and Mikhail. Nevaeh is Mikhail’s girlfriend, and across the way at the head of the table is my foster dad Alex.” Alex waves good-naturedly and says, “Nice to meet you, Amara.”

Then I point to Azazel. “And this British dick is Azazel.” Azazel tips an imaginary hat and winks. “It’s big British dick to you, wanker.”

I roll my eyes and move on. “…And to his right is my brother Rowan.” Rowan’s face sharpens as he roams his eyes across Amara in recognition. He leans close and rests his folded arms across the table, “You’re the Arcata, High beauty queen?”

Amara swallows and nods her head.

Haley giggles and waves. “Oh yeah, Amara has run and won Miss Arcata High three years in a row. She’s seriously talented.”

Amara shrugs her shoulders with a cringe. “Yeah, it’s kind of something my mom forces me to do.”

Nevaeh crosses her arms in front of her chest with a venomous snort. “Yeah, I’m sure you hate it.” She says sarcastically.

Amara blushes slightly and looks down at her lap. I look at Mikhail and give him a, “What the hell is her problem?” look. He simply shrugs. He looks as surprised as I do by Nevaeh’s bitchy attitude. For as long as I’ve known Nevaeh, she’s been cool. But if she keeps up the attitude, I’m going to have to check her.

We all dig into brunch. Amara seems to be lost in her own world. She talks to Haley and Rowan, who keep asking her uncomfortable questions about pageant life. It doesn’t seem to bother her much because she answers congenially. However, I have to put the brakes when he asks her if she tapes her breasts to her dresses. I throw my napkin at his head and grit out, “Cut the crap, Rowan. She’s not going to answer that.”

Rowan throws his head back, bemused. “Sorry, it’s just pretty interesting.”

Amara rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “It’s actually pretty boring.”

Azazel leans back in his chair and asks, “So, why do you do it?”

Amara lays down her sandwich and chews gently before she answers. “To be honest, it’s the only way to get my mother off my back. It’s also the only way I can get her to pay for my photography equipment.”

Alex leans forward, laying his napkin down. “So, you’re a photographer?”

Amara nods as she distractedly slides her finger across the side of her nearly empty water bottle. “Yeah, I love to take pictures.”

Smiling, I place my arm over her shoulder. “She’s really good too.” Haley nods excitedly. “Yeah, she is. She has a portfolio she created, and she’s going to enter it for the Art and Expression Scholarship at Cal State.”

Amara fidgets in her seat when everyone congratulates her, with the exception of Nevaeh. Even Mikhail seems impressed. He won the Scholarship last year. He smiles kindly and says, “I hope you win it. It’s a pretty awesome experience to see your work up for everyone to admire.”

Amara gives him a grateful smile and nods her head. “Yeah, I hope I do too.”

That’s when Nevaeh drops the bomb. “Does your portfolio have pictures of Jason? Or did you get rid of them when you killed him?”

The whole room goes silent. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Amara. I gaze at her in question. She loses all color and begins to tremble. Before I can say more, she rises clumsily from her chair, whispers an apology, and walks away. I rise to follow, but before I do, I turn to Nevaeh. “What the fuck was that about, Nevaeh?”

Nevaeh tightens her jaw and sneers. “Why don’t you ask your girlfriend?”

I look back at the doorway, then to Mikhail. “You better talk to your girlfriend, bro, because this is bullshit. She has no right to treat my mate that way.”

Mikhail narrows his eyes and stands protectively over Nevaeh. “Don’t you fucking ever talk about my mate that way, Kell. Why don’t you handle your mate and let me handle mine.”

Not wanting to argue further, I step out of the room and follow Amara.

It doesn’t take me long to catch up to her. I find her outside, trying to open her car door. But she’s unsuccessful because she’s too busy sobbing to see what she’s doing. I grasp her elbow and pull her to me. “Who’s Jason, Amara?”

She turns to me, utter dejection visible on her face. Tears fall freely down her cheeks, and her chest is heaving. She tries to push away, but I pull her closer instead. I place kisses on her head and whisper gently, “Tell me, babe.”

It takes her a moment to control her sobs as she wipes agitatedly at her tears and mutters. “Jason was my first love.”

I clench my jaw feeling despair at the thought of her loving someone other than me. But that’s my issue, not hers. And it’s not fair considering that I have been with other girls before I met her. “And what happened to Jason?”

Amara sniffles and covers her mouth to stifle a sob as despair courses through her trembling form. Jaw tight, I pull her head under my chin and rub her back comfortingly. She takes another deep breath and whispers brokenly, “Jason and I met freshman year and became fast friends. We did almost everything together, and I thought that I loved him. At the end of our sophomore year, we made this stupid pact that we wouldn’t be virgins in our junior year. So, when Sophomore year ended, we did it. It wasn’t very good, but I thought that maybe he’d finally realize that he loved me too. But he didn’t. He acted like it never happened. At first, it hurt that he wouldn’t acknowledge what we did. I even made excuses for him because I couldn’t face the fact that he used me. I imagined that the reason he avoided me was that he didn’t know how I felt.”

She stops to clear her throat, wiping at her tears. “I had just decided to tell him, but it was too late. He was dating Tiffany by then. That’s when I decided that even if it hurt, I’d stay his friend. Jason seemed fine with it, and I was desperate to be around him. It was a really bad time. My mom was pressuring me to join the pageant, and I had lost the guy that I liked. To forget my heartbreak, I partied until I couldn’t think anymore. And that’s when it happened…”

She gazes straight ahead as if reliving the moment. She doesn’t even blink. “We were so wasted, but we needed to get home. I told them that we should take a cab, but they laughed. I knew Tiffany didn’t want me around them, but Jason was blind to our feelings. So, Tiffany insisted, and we got into the car…”

She closes her eyes for a moment, looking lost. It tears me up to see the look of despair in her eyes. But she continues with her story. “I couldn’t let them go off on their own. I was so stupid. I thought that I could save him somehow. I didn’t even realize that he hadn’t buckled his seat belt. He must have passed out from drinking so much that night because Tiffany was never mean to me in front of him. It was always when his back was turned that she’d be nasty. It was raining, and the road was slippery. She started making comments about not wanting me there and how I looked desperate, following Jason around, knowing that he didn’t feel the same way about me. It went on and on. Then it happened. She wasn’t looking and had swerved into another lane. I tried to warn her, but it was too late. Her car hit the other car head-on. Tiffany and I had our seat belts, so we just had minor injuries. But Jason…”

Hands shaking, she slides her hands across her eyes in anguish. “They said that he went through the window. That he probably didn’t even feel it because it happened instantly. He died, and we lived.”

She stops talking and clings to my arms, weeping hopelessly. “Nevaeh is right. I killed him. I should have made him stay.”

I hold her tighter into my arms and make comforting sounds. “No, baby, it’s not your fault. He made his choice. He should have been responsible.”

We stand there for a couple moments, finding comfort in each other’s arms. Sliding my hands down her back, I mutter comforting words until her tears run dry. I can’t help but make a correlation between her story and that of my parents.

Once she has gained control of her emotions, I run my thumb down her cheek and kiss her nose. “Come back inside, babe. Don’t let Nevaeh run you out.”

She shakes her head, looking miserable. “I can’t, Kell. Your family must hate me.”

Ignoring her words, I usher her back into the house. “That’s bullshit, Amara. It wasn’t right that Nevaeh ousted you that way without knowing the facts.”

She shakes her head and takes a couple of steps back. “Please, Kell, I just need some time to think. I just want to go home.”

My stomach plummets at her words. “Are you breaking up with me, beauty queen?”

She shakes her head. “No, Kell, I just want to go. I promise it’s nothing like that.”

Her emerald eyes glimmer with tears as she whispers. “Please.” Her lip trembles, making me give in. “Fine. I’ll take you home; just let me tell everyone I have to go.”

Just then, Haley walks up beside us and says, “I’ll go home with her.”

I gaze at Amara, who nods her head. “Yeah, stay here. I’ll go with Haley.”

Our eyes meet for a few moments. My jaw ticks as I grit out. “Are you sure?”

She nods her head and wraps her arms around me, laying a kiss on my jaw. “I’m sure. I promise. I’ll call you later.”

I look at Haley, who gives me a sad smile and says, “Listen, Kell, what Nevaeh said was not true. Jason, Tiffany, and Amara did get drunk, but Amara was not driving the car; it was Tiffany. Also, Jason was a big boy. He shouldn’t have gotten into a car drunk, and he definitely should have buckled up.” Her words reassure me, even though I believed Amara.

I place my palm on Haley’s shoulder and nod in agreement. “Thanks, Haley. I appreciate you being there for my girl.”

She smiles sweetly as she wraps her arm around Amara and leads her to the Mini Cooper. I give in because I know that I have to talk to Nevaeh and set things straight. Reaching for Amara, I lean down and whisper into her ear. “Okay, but I’m passing by later, so expect a knock on your window.”

She nods her head and slips into the driver’s seat of her car.

Once they’re gone, I walk back into the house. Just then, Mikhail and Nevaeh show up. I try to control my anger. I mean, Nevaeh is my brother’s mate, and until now, we’ve always gotten along. “Listen, Nevaeh, I know that you’re Khail’s girl, but that gives you no right to say what you did.”

Nevaeh shakes her head and says defensively. “I’m sorry, Kell, but Jason was a very good friend of mine. You don’t know how I felt when I came home from summer camp and found out that Amara got him drunk and took him for a joy ride that killed him. Well, you can see why I might be pissed.”

I shake my head and furrow my brow. “But that’s not what happened, Nevaeh. If you had bothered to ask, you would have known the real story.”

She frowns in consternation. “What do you mean?”

I huff out an impatient breath. “What I mean is that if you had asked, you would know that Amara was not driving the car. It was his girlfriend, Tiffany. You would also know that Jason used Amara for sex, then pretended that it never happened. Jason was a big boy who should have known that drinking and driving don’t mix. He made a choice to get into the car, and he made a choice to not buckle up. And if you still have doubts, you can ask Haley. Or check your sources. Do you understand now?”

Nevaeh’s eyes widen, and she covers her mouth in horror. “Oh my God, what have I done?”

Mikhail steps close and wraps his arms around her shoulder. “Don’t cry, princess. You didn’t know.”

I nod my head. “Yeah, you didn’t know about that, but now you do. So, what are you going to do about it?”

Nevaeh takes a deep broken breath and looks at me repentant. “I have to talk to Amara and apologize. I was so horrible to her.” Silent tears fall down her face.

Azazel steps into the foyer and gives Nevaeh the once over before he turns to us and scowls. “What the bloody hell happened?”

Mikhail rolls his eyes. “Chill, man. Nevaeh’s just having a moment.”

Azazel gives us an angry glare then looks at Nevaeh for confirmation. Nevaeh wipes her tears and smiles. “It’s fine, Azazel. I just feel bad about what happened with Amara. I was so rude to her.”

Azazel quirks a surprised brow. “No offense, love, but you were more than rude to her.”

She slumps her shoulders helplessly and sighs. “You’re right, I was. And now I want to find some way to get her to forgive me.”

Azazel shrugs for a moment, then snaps his fingers. “How about you invite her to my loft. We can play COD while you two birds talk privately.”

Mikhail and I gaze at Nevaeh, “What do you think?”

She nods her head in agreement and gives me a hopeful smile. “Yeah, I’ll do it. Thanks.”

I give her an agreeable nod, take out my cell phone, and dial Amara’s number. At first, she’s hesitant, but then she agrees. The next night we meet at Azazel’s loft. Amara looks wary, but she doesn’t back out.

Striding inside, Amara gazes around Azazel’s loft appreciatively. “Wow, this place is beautiful.” She says.

The loft is large with high ceilings, wall-to-wall windows, and wooden floors. It has an industrial feel to it with its exposed pipes and brick walls. It’s all open concept with a state of the art stainless steel kitchen.

Azazel meets us at the front door. “Hello Kell, Hello, love. Welcome to my home.” He says, gesturing to the kitchen area. “Please come in.”

I narrow my eyes at his welcoming tone. Azazel is a good guy, but he can also be a pain in the ass. Stepping past him, I pat his shoulder and lead my lady to the kitchen. “Thanks, man.”

Mikhail and Nevaeh are in the kitchen serving drinks. We all give each other an imperceptible nod and gesture to the living room. “How about we go and set up the game and let the ladies talk,” Azazel says as he makes his way to the living room with a beer in his hand.

We move swiftly to set up the game, pretending not to listen to their conversation.

Nevaeh takes a deep breath and steps in front of Amara. “Look, Amara, I’m sorry about what I said.” She waves her hand in my direction. “Kell told me what really happened to Jason that summer. You have to understand that Jason was a good friend of mine. I remember we used to hang out when we were kids. It hurt me when I found out he died. All I know is that I came home from camp, and Jason was dead. Then I hear rumors that you got him drunk and took him on a joy ride. I was so angry...” She stops talking and lets out a soft sob. “I’m sorry.”

Amara rubs her forearms uncomfortably and moves to stand in front of Nevaeh. “It’s okay, Nevaeh. You’re not the only one who feels angry about what happened. I just want you to know that I think about it every day. That’s why I left the social scene and stopped partying. I didn’t want anything to do with it anymore. I lost someone because we were so careless. After the incident, I made a promise to myself that I’d never do something that stupid ever again.” She ends tearfully.

To our surprise, Neveah throws her arms around Amara. They both cling together in empathy. I feel helpless standing there as my girl falls apart. After a couple of minutes, they separate and smile in accord. Both women look more relaxed at relieving the burden they’ve been carrying for so long.

Azazel turns to me. “Bloody hell, are we in a soap opera?”

Mikhail snorts and continues to play with the dials on his game remote. “Just wait until you find your mate. It’ll be fun to watch you stumble around like we did.”

Azazel’s eyes widen with horror, but then he shrugs. “I doubt it, mate. I'm very old, and I still haven’t found her. I’m not too worried.”

Mikhail and I scoff at his comment. I can’t help to rile him, though. “You say that, but you never know. Love will strike when you least expect it, and I get the feeling that we’ll be there to watch the show.”

Azazel doesn’t reply. He simply scoffs and rolls his eyes.

We spend the rest of the evening together. We order pizza and drinks. Carrick, Haley, Rowan, and Juliet join us. The girls are talking about who knows what in the kitchen when it happens. We all sit up startled when one of the girls screeches out. “Amara!”

Rushing to the kitchen, we find Amara seizing and shuddering on the floor. Freaked, I kneel down and pull Amara’s body into the shelter of my arms. “What happened?”

The girls shake their heads in confusion. Haley answers. “We were just talking about the pageant and trying out some lip glosses. When Juliet held up a mirror to show Amara how she looked, Amara stiffened and began to shudder."

Her chest heaves as her body continues to seize. Azazel gestures to his guest room. “Lay her on the bed.”

Lifting her into my arms, I carry her to the room and lay her on the mattresses. After a moment, her movements seize.

Nevaeh whispers frantically, “Shouldn’t we call an ambulance or something?”

I shake my head. “No, she’ll be fine.”

Everyone gives me a dubious look, with the exception of Azazel, who looks down at Amara’s form speculatively.

Amara’s breathing becomes normal, but I can see that her skin is getting cold, her lips are turning blue, and goosebumps are spreading throughout her body. Moving closer, I wrap my hand around hers and feel cold seep into it, just like last time.

She slowly opens her eyes and gives me a disoriented look. “It happened again, Kell. The vision. Someone is going to die.” She whispers weakly as a tremble shakes her body, and she passes out again.

Taking charge of the situation, I look up at everyone. “Can you guys give us a minute?”

Everyone warily steps out of the room except for Azazel. “Why didn’t you tell us that your girlfriend is a Breija?”

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

He smiles smugly and replies, “She’s the one, isn’t she? The one that asked you to find the dead girl because she was having visions of her death.”

My mouth gapes open in astonishment. “How do you know?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Bugger that, mate. Mathias told me about the dead girl and how you told him that you had a friend who had visions of their deaths. Who do you think helped him find where she was? You were so secretive the night when Mathias called you and asked you about the girl. Now I understand why.”

I ignore his comment and ask again. “What’s a Breija, and how do you know Amara is one?”

He runs his gaze gently over Amara’s face. “A Breija is what we in the Supernatural world call a mirror seer. Breijas are very rare and powerful women who look at reflections and see visions of deaths. Haley says that Amara looked into the mirror then fainted. If she is a Breija, that would have affected her. She must have looked into it and had a vision. Untrained Breijas tend to have a negative reaction to their visions. For example, they pass out, have seizures, and suffer extreme hypothermia after those visions. Breijas don’t live long without training Kell. They have a difficult time processing their visions.”

Brow furrowed, I sift my fingers through my hair. “What do I do, Azazel?”

He shakes his head. “You need to speak to Mathias. This girl is the key to putting a stop to these murders. What I know, it that the Council believes that the murders are some kind of ritual to restore someone’s supernatural power. The girl Amara envisioned was a nymph. The other two girls were also supernatural. We believe that someone is stealing their powers and killing them. It’s possible that it’s Marael, but we can’t prove it as of yet.”

My thoughts are in turmoil. What if something happens to Amara? I’m reminded of that day I found her nearly dying on her bedroom floor. I just can’t let anyone hurt her.

I look at Azazel, who mutters, “Call, Mathias.”

Giving him an imperceptible nod, I rest my head on Amara’s chest, listen to her steady heartbeat, and find comfort in the fact that she’s alive. It’s time to talk to Mathias.