“It wasn't like that—it wasn't my fault,” she started to plead.
“Can you even remember?” I asked, moving further away from her, contemplating what such information meant. It meant that Aiden wasn't working for the enemy. He was simply on a futile mission to save his sad excuse of a sister. It didn't bring any harm to my plan, whatsoever, and I did have someone competent in Aiden. It was best that I leave things as they were for the time being. Let him live out his hero fantasy of attempting to save his sister and serve me.
“I only remember bits and pieces. It wasn't my fault.”
“Believe whatever you would like, Kara. I have little time for your guilt and your ‘did I’ or ‘did nots’–, I will keep your secret, and you will keep mine.”
“What secret?”
“That I know your brother's mission, and that I know he is not a soulless.”
“Fine,” she agreed, standing, her head drooping.
For a moment, I felt bad for her—but then I shoved that feeling down. She was corrupt. It was as simple as that. I knew corruption tended to grow, that it grew, it festered; it was better that I had cleansed her of it when I had, rather than to wait until later, and have her soul lost to the corruptor. No, I was justified in my cause. I watched as she slowly descended the stairs intothe darkness of the basement. I was hoping that her mind would remain intact enough so that she wouldn't tell her brother what I knew. That was something I had to take a gamble on. I so hated not having control, but I let it be.
Chapter thirteen
After a few days of being close to Emma at school, but not close enough, I was dying inside. My melody was having issues from being distant from hers. I would have rather taken a thousand lashings than to have to deal with the complex emotions that Emma made me feel. She avoided me every chance she could, which I could understand, but at the same time, I wondered how she couldn’t see how much stronger I was than Shadrict ever could have been? Clearly I needed to show her who I truly was. Maybe I could start that finally because I desperately needed to see her, maybe to touch her—hold her if I was really lucky. Gaining control was a give-and-take battle. I couldn't deny myself completely–but Emma in small doses? I needed, at least, that. If I could spend some time with her, it would help control my emotions and actions, and my melody needed to be around her.
As I entered the flower shop, where Emma and her aunt worked, a chime signaled my arrival. I watched her head pop up as she checked to see who had entered. Immediately, my melody latched onto hers, and for a few moments, eternity existed asour melodies rejoiced in being together. I didn't want it to end; I could have remained there, staring at her with her melody wrapped around mine forever. The only thing I would have changed was the physical distance between us.
I became lost within a recent memory as I stared at her.
I placed my hand above her head, keeping her prisoner. She wouldn’t be able to escape. I enjoyed the feeling of power over her. I moved a piece of hair from her face as I leaned in over her shoulder, breathing softly upon her ear, inhaling her strawberry scent. It was maddening. Her feelings, although mostly guarded, slipped out, and she wanted her melody to be released, to connect with mine—but was ashamed to allow it. I wanted to tell her that she had nothing to be ashamed about.
“My melody is Shad’s melody, so you see, you are also connected to me.”
She shook her head, not wanting to believe the truth of it. “Get away from me before I make it so that you can never have children.”
I wanted to pull her into my arms right then and experiment with that exact idea.
“I can show you how we can make—” before I could expand, she kneed me in the groin. Pain shot up into my gut, and I bent over.
“Nicely played, sweetheart, but the only one you are hurting is yourself. I know how sad you would be if we could never have children in the future,” I managed to say with a forced smile. She only glared at me. Her face looked adorable when she was shocked by my words.
“I would never ever want to have—ew, you are so gross.”
I let her walk away a bit as the pain subsided; then I spoke into her soul: It is only a matter of time. I can wait.
Another memory formed between us: me flashing my camera in her face, and her disapproving look. Those images I had printed, and they had turned out heartbreakingly beautiful. I shook my head, trying to clear my melody of its traitorous thoughts; they distracted me.
I faded from my memory, back into the present,
“Emma, sweet, how are you this fine evening?” I asked as I leaned against the large counter, my memories abandoning me. I set my camera down, wanting to get a different image of her than I had before. On the previous occasion, she was devastatingly miserable, and it showed. I wondered what other emotion I could get out of her—
“Just working,” she said, but I could sense her trying incredibly hard to shield everything else from me. She moved to the other side of the counter and started to cut some flowers. I walked over to her and noticed how her hands moved so artfully to avoid the thorns and how a few petals fluttered and fell onto the counter. It reminded me of when I’d gone into her room and moved her flowers around, my way of letting her know that I was around her, watching her. I didn't think at that time how creepy it seemed—but I guess, looking back at it with a soul, it was not the most comforting thing. It, rather, appeared to her that I was, basically, stalking her—which thing was actually frowned upon on earth, and indeed, it was consideredcreepy.
“Working, huh?” I asked, picking up a petal from a flower as it fell to the counter. I also picked up my camera, zooming in on the image, the background out of focus. I looked up to see thatEmma was watching me. When her eyes met mine, she turned away.
“Emma?”
Her thoughts started to linger; her shields were coming down just enough, and I could gather a single train-of-thought. She was getting better at shielding herself from me, it was a gift to hear it. She was thinking about the differences between my brother and me. She admitted that I was attractive, and I smiled at that.
One point for me, Shad.
“Emma, I do believe you think I am hot—” I chuckled, reaching my hand out to touch her jaw. She saw something redeemable inside of me. I had hope;maybe we could do this; maybe, just maybe, she will realize that we are supposed to be together. “Don't worry, I will not tell my brother.”
“Go away, Cade.” She quickly moved across the room and started to spray the flowers.
