Shattered Promises 1 Read online

  He rolls his tongue to keep from smiling at me as he releases my hair. “Nope. I’ve never felt anything like it until you came along.”

  “Yeah, me neither,” I mutter, combing my fingers through my hair to smooth it back into place. “Until the first time I met you at the school... that day you let the door slam in my face… but even when I ran into you at Marco and Sophia’s house, I felt something.”

  He pulls a guilty face, but then he seems surprised. “Really? That was the first time you felt it? Ever?”

  “Yes, why do you look so surprised?” I ask. “You just said the same thing.”

  “Because you’re different,” he says and I frown. He kicks his boots up on the table and crosses his legs. “I’ll get to why, but give me a minute. I have to finish explaining the portal story, because it’s kind of like background information.”

  “To what?”

  “To you… but back to the portal because you need to kind of understand that part before I go anywhere else with it.” He pauses and I’m pretty sure he’s holding his breath. “If it opens up, it'll let millions of Death Walkers out and you’ve seen what they can do, so I’m sure you can guess how that would end the world.”

  I place my hand on the arm of the sofa and bring my knee up onto the couch as colorful images flash through my mind, little pieces of memories clipping together, forming a story.

  The ground is an ice-rink, the buildings are tall statues, and the sky ripples with clouds that shower down a heavy snowstorm. In the distance, there is light—fire—and when it mixes with the snow, there is nothing but chaos.

  “By ice,” I whisper as the images shatter into pieces and dissolve.

  His phone beeps and he glances at the screen. “Exactly.” He scrolls through his screen and hammers his fingers against a few buttons, seeming preoccupied, yet he continues on with his story. “There’s this guy named Demetrius, who’s the leader of all the Death Walkers, and he wants this portal to open. Basically, the fallen star is the only thing that has enough power to keep the portal from opening.”

  “Do you still have the star?” I wonder and then raise my hands in front of me. “And, I’m only asking that question out of curiosity. I’m still not sure if I one-hundred percent believe what you’re telling me.”

  His gaze rises from his phone and there is a look in his eyes that I don’t like. “Yeah, we still have it. We kept it hidden so Demetrius couldn’t find it. For the first few years after the Keepers found it, we had a Shifter transfer the star’s energy into different objects to keep its location a constant secret.” He stops. “Do I need to slow down? You look lost.”

  I shake my head. “Kind of lost. Kind of overwhelmed. But you can go on.”

  “Okay, but a warning, the next part is going to be very hard for you to hear.” He glances down at his hands, and then turns them over, so his palms are facing the floor, and he looks vexed. “Just try to stay calm, okay?”

  It feels like thorns have veined their way through my stomach and are poking at my insides. “I’ll try.”

  He sucks in a deep breath and takes my hand in his. He traces his finger along the scar on my palm gently and it makes me feel a little bit better at the moment. “An accident happened a few years after we found the star. Theron, the Shifter I told you about, was attacked by Demetrius while in possession of the object that was holding the star’s energy and, during a moment of panic, he accidently placed the power into a… woman.”

  My heart thumps inside my chest, like a drum, beating louder and louder. “What happened to her?”

  “Nothing. The energy didn’t end up in her.” His hand tightens around mine. “She was pregnant when it happened and it ended up going into her unborn child.”

  My heart thumps and thumps and I can barely hear the stale calmness in my voice. “Then, what happened to the baby?”

  “She lived, but the star’s energy is still trapped inside her. For some reason—and no one knows for sure, because no one has ever come across anything like it before—no Shifter could transfer it out of her.” He presses his lips together as my heart roars inside my chest. “A few years after it happened, the mother died, but not because of the star.” He watches me attentively. “She was a Keeper and her name was Jocelyn.”

  My heart stops, but I still can’t hear a sound.

  Jocelyn was my mother.

  And suddenly I understand what has been wrong with me for the last twenty-one years. I’m not crazy.

  I am the star.

  I’m not sure what to do with this information. My brain is in overdrive, racing with different solutions trying to make it so it can’t be possible, but it all comes down to a list of things.

  The dreams.

  The monsters.

  The mirages.

  The weird images always popping up in my brain.

  The detachment from the world.

  My lack of emotions.

  They all seem unreal and so does a star’s energy being inside me. Put them together and they make sense. I come to the conclusion that he’s telling the truth and I do what anyone would have done.

  I run away from the painful truth because it’s just too much to take.

  Chapter 9

  My legs carry me across the room, my lungs fight against the ache from the stitches. I make it to the door before his long arms wrap around my waist. He’s careful not to touch my stitches as he strengthens his hold and drags me backwards.

  “Let go of me!” I shout as I throw all my weight forward, but he’s stronger than the average person. He puts no effort into his movements as he picks me up until my feet are off the floor and then carries me back to the couch. He sets me down and when I try to get right back up, he thrusts his hand out and shoves me back down.

  “Calm down,” he orders. “You’re going to tear those stitches open.”

  My chest heaves as I breathe furiously. “I don’t care. It wouldn’t hurt any more than what’s happening on the inside.”

  He looks at me with sympathy. “I understand you’re probably upset, but I—”

  “I’m not upset,” I cut him off. “I’m content, which is frightening, because I know what you said is the truth and I don’t want it to be. I wanted it to be something else; something that can be cured with a pill or something.”

  He looks helpless, eyes wide and his lips still. The clock ticks back and forth, back and forth. I don’t know what to say or what to do with myself. My entire life, I’ve had a star’s energy inside me. A fucking piece of a star. I’m probably not even human.

  “What am I?” I ask. My voice sounds detached.

  “What are you?” Alex asks, looking at me bewilderedly as he sinks down on the couch beside me. He places a hand on the back of the couch, rotates sideways and traps me in place. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Well, I can’t be human,” I say, my eyebrows knitting. “I mean, nothing about me has really been human, has it? And having a star inside me… That can’t be human.”

  “You’re human,” he assures me and takes my hand in his. He grazes his finger across the inside of my wrist. A few months ago I would have felt nothing, but now it brings me a little comfort in the sea of absurdity I’ve been thrown into. “You’re just a human with a lot of power.”

  I can feel that power through his touch and it’s making me nauseous. I ease my hand away from his, but he grabs ahold of it again and guides me closer until I’m pretty much sitting on his lap.

  “Look, I know this all sounds crazy,” he begins with a look of determination as he puts his hands domineeringly on my hips. He lifts me up and sets me down on his lap, so my legs are on either side of him. “And I understand that you’re probably scared shitless, but there’s more stuff I have to tell you.”

  My eyes roll to the ceiling as I fight back the tears. “How can there be more… I don’t think I can take anymore.”

  “Yes, you can. You’re a lot tougher than you know,” he says and I lower my head to see
if he’s being serious. His gaze never wavers as I study him. “But here’s the thing. If you don’t want to hear it—if you want to be left in the dark for the rest of your life—then you need to tell me. If you want me to stop, then I will.”

  “I’ve been left in the dark for most of my life.” It isn’t really a question, but he nods anyway. I take a deep breath and whisper, “Tell me then.”

  He nods, gripping onto my hips like he thinks I’m going to try and flee again. “The Keepers lucked out because Demetrius never discovered the location of the star’s power, but when you were born, a Foreseer told Stephan that if your emotions weren’t controlled, then the power of the star would weaken and eventually die, along with the world. So, to stop that from happening, Stephan made the decision for you to go live with Marco and Sophia in the real world.”

  “How old was I when I went to live with them?” I utter softly. “Because I was told one, but I’m starting to wonder if maybe I was a little older.”

  “No, you were one,” he replies in a flat tone. “And they were under strict orders to make sure you stayed unemotional.”

  I hit an eerie calm—an ’unemotional’ calm. I was made to be this way—to be dead inside. To live a life of solitude. All those mind-numbing years alone, without a friend, never speaking unless a question was directed to me. It was all done on purpose? A lump builds in my throat, blocking my airway. I can’t breathe.

  “Gemma,” he says with concern. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  I suck in a sharp breath and force the lump down. “How did they do it? How did Marco and Sophia make me unemotional?”

  His eyes wander over my shoulder. “I was always told that it was because they gave you as little physical contact as possible. Isolation. If someone doesn’t ever know happiness, sadness, or love, then how can they ever feel it? Right?”

  “Are you lying to me?” I lean to the side and he stares down at the floor behind me. “You can’t even look at me.”

  “I’m not lying, Gemma.” He looks at me guardedly. “I’m just telling you what I know, which isn’t everything.”

  “Yes, you are,” I assert, fighting down my anger; fearing if I release it, the consequences will be irreversible, especially if I end up punching him. I start to get up, but his arms wind tighter as he wrestles me down onto his lap and crushes my chest against his.

  “You can’t go wandering off,” he says sternly. “Not until we figure out what’s going on… why the Death Walkers are on to you.”

  “Let me go.” I’m enraged. Furious. Pissed off beyond comprehension. I dig my fingers into his shoulders, hard.

  He doesn’t seem to give a shit as he picks me up and flips us to the side so he is lying on top of me. He gathers my arms together in one of his hands and pins them up above my head. I’m trapped beneath him and the scorching heat is unbearable.

  “You’re thinking too irrationally right now,” he says. “You need to calm down, take a few deep breaths and think before you do anything.”

  I bend my back up and press my chest against his. “I’m thinking as rationally as anyone would in this situation. And there’s all this… stuff in my body and head and I don’t know what to do with it.”

  He lowers himself and I feel the hardness of his body bear down on me. “Calm down. You’re going to tear open your stitches… Just calm down.”

  I lie there, panting, and so does he. With each rise and fall of our lungs, our chests collide. I become calmer, which doesn’t seem possible. Yet, it is; my erratic breathing is slowing down, my heart steadying.

  He loosens up too, and isn’t so tense anymore. “Now, if I let you go, will you promise to stay here and talk? No running off?”

  I take a deep breath and nod, but deep down I know I have no control over what I do at the moment. My emotions do.

  He lets go of me and pushes himself up. Then he grabs my hand and aides me as I sit up next to him. It grows quiet as he turns his head and looks over his shoulder at his back. “You know, you’re fucking ruthless. You clawed through my shirt and cut the skin.” He turns so I can see his back. Sure enough, I’ve managed to tear his shirt and his exposed skin is split open and bleeding.

  “Sorry,” I apologize, but there is very little sincerity in my tone.

  He turns around and there’s fire in his eyes. “Don’t be.” He clears his throat and then I clear mine.

  “So, why did I start to feel, then?” I pull my legs up on the couch and tuck them under me. “That’s what I really want to know. What happened?”

  “No one can really figure that out. I guess Marco and Sophia noticed some changes in you over the last few months or so.”

  “They barely talk to me. How did they notice changes?”

  “I guess you started asking questions about your parents and stuff. You even seemed sad at times.”

  So that’s why Sophia has been upset. That’s why she won’t tell me anything, but it didn’t make it better. It made it worse. I feel a flicker of hatred in that moment; it's small, but there, and eager to flame bright. “And how do you play a part in this? I mean, you were at Marco and Sophia’s house that morning, and then, suddenly you were at my school. I’m guessing you weren’t there just to learn.”

  He lets out a breath. “Aislin and I enrolled in school to try and figure out what was going on with you. We were supposed to keep our distance and just observe, but that didn’t work out very well.”

  “Are those the rules you broke?”

  He shrugs. “That’s just one among a very long list.”

  “So you’re not supposed to be near me?”

  He shakes his head and his gaze sweeps all over me, like he’s memorizing me before he bails. “No, not really.”

  I think about us on the bed and just how close we’ve gotten. I pluck at a stray string on the throw pillow. “You broke that rule more than once.”

  “I know,” he mutters and then lets out a sigh. “Look, I know you probably have a ton more questions, but I really need to get ahold of Stephan and figure out what’s going on. The Death Walkers—I don’t know how they discovered you—and we need to find that out before they track us down again.”

  I want to believe that when he says ‘us,’ he actually means us, but, for some reason, I feel like I’m the exclusion. Deep down, I know I’m alone in this, just like I’ve been my entire life. In the end, I’m the only person I can count on for anything.

  Chapter 10

  The house is enormous; an overly large living room, a large dining area and a very long hallway that has a lot of shut doors. I wonder what is behind those doors; if they are normal rooms or torture chambers or something.

  “There’s something else I need to tell you,” he says as he comes to a stop in front of one of the shut doors. He turns to me and there’s uneasiness in his demeanor.

  I sigh. “Let me guess, unless you kill me right now, the world will explode.” What can I say? I’m tired.

  He confines a smile. “Well, I’m glad your sense of humor hasn’t left you,” he says and I pull an intolerant face. “Relax; it’s not about you this time. It’s about Laylen, the guy who lives here.” He points up and down the hallway. Then, he crosses his arms. “He’s not human.”

  “If he’s not human, then what is he?”

  He scratches the back of his neck as he mutters, “A vampire.”

  I stare blankly at him. He has to be joking. There is no way vampires can really exist. Can they?

  He steps toward me cautiously with his hands at his sides. “I know what you’re thinking… I can see it written across your face. That there’s no way vampires are real, but they’re about as real as Death Walkers and you’ve seen those with your own eyes.”

  My eyes drift to the end of the hall. Light spills through the glass just above the door and creates misshapen reflections across the floor and walls. I could run away and pretend that this madness never existed. That the last few hours are a dream, which they easily could be, but
I’ve seen too much; know too much. There is no way I can go back into the dark again and live my life just as it was. I’ve changed. Everything has changed.

  “You’re not thinking about running again, are you?” Alex asks.

  “No, I was just thinking about stuff.” I glance back at him. “Does he bite?”

  Alex’s jaw clamps down. It takes him a moment to answer. “No, since he was a Keeper before he changed, things work a little differently… He’s more in control of his blood lust.”

  “Blood lust?” I’ve read about vampires, seen them portrayed on television shows. Some of them are depicted as sexy and their blood lust even sexier. I wonder if this Laylen guy’s blood lust—should it ever emerge—will be sexy and feel good? I’m probably wondering too many things about the subject. I cover my mouth and cough to clear my throat. “And what about vampires that aren’t Keepers to begin with? What are they like?”

  “Let’s just hope you don’t ever have to find out,” Alex says, then turns the doorknob and shoves the door open.

  The room is bigger than the one we just left, but there’s a lack of windows. The dark red walls are bordered by bookshelves and there is a long, mahogany table in the middle of the room with eight antique spindle-back chairs around it.

  Aislin is in one of the end chairs, texting on her cell phone. When she sees us, she jumps to her feet and meets us in the center of the room. “Oh, good. I was just about to come get you. Did you get everything taken care of?”

  Alex looks at me and then back at Aislin; I can sense something is up. “Yeah, I guess. Well, as much as I could.”

  Aislin sighs, patting her phone against the palm of her hand. “I can’t get ahold of Stephan. It goes straight to his voicemail.”

  “That’s odd,” Alex mumbles, staring at the spot on the floor in front of his feet with his eyebrows dipped. “Did you try Marco and Sophia?”

  “Yeah, they didn’t answer, either.” Aislin checks her cell phone screen. “Something’s not right.”

  “Why do you need to get ahold of Marco and Sophia?” I intervene.