Read Breathless Page 45


  EPILOGUE

  I shifted position on my beach chair, flipping the page of the Robert Anton Wilson novel I was reading. The Florida sun beat down on me. I luxuriated in it, feeling its warm rays caress my skin. It might be winter in the rest of the world, but here it was in the mid seventies and sunny. A shadow fell over me.

  I looked up. A dripping Jason was standing at my feet. He bent down over me, nuzzling my neck. I shoved him out of the way, giggling. “Jason!” I protested, “you’re getting my book wet.”

  Jason flopped onto a towel that was lying next to me. “Stop reading,” he said. “Come in the water with me.”

  I shot him a disbelieving look. “It’s too cold to get in the water.”

  “You’re starting to sound like one of the natives,” Jason muttered.

  “Well,” I said. “I’m planning on living here for a very, very long time. Might as well start acting like we’re from here.”

  It had been a little over a month since we’d officially moved to Florida. It was exactly what Jason and I had imagined when we’d talked about our perfect place to live. Our house was a ten-minute drive from the ocean, and it was warm. We took walks on the powder-white sand in the evenings, watching the sun set over the blue, blue water.

  “I’m bored,” said Jason.

  “Too bad,” said Hallam, who was seated in his own beach chair on the other side of Jason’s towel. “I had too much trouble finding a parking space. We’re not going anywhere for quite some time.” Hallam was our legal guardian these days. He’d been successful in making the deal with Weem. In exchange for Hallam keeping his mouth shut about Jason’s origins, the Sons would leave both Jason and Hallam alone. After the deal had been made, we hadn’t exactly known what to do with ourselves. Jason and I were both still minors, but neither of us had parents. Hallam had agreed to take responsibility for us, considering he was oh-so-much older than us. Twenty-two.

  Mostly, Hallam was cool. He had his conditions, however. Jason and I were forbidden to share a room. By extension, Hallam meant that we weren’t supposed to have sex either. “Not under my roof,” he had thundered. Considering Jason and I both had part-time jobs to help out with rent and bills, it really wasn’t just Hallam’s roof anyway. Besides, what Hallam didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  “It’s crowded because it’s Saturday,” I told Hallam. “We wouldn’t have a problem if we came on a weekday.”

  “On weekdays,” said Hallam sharply, “you and Jason are at school.”

  That was another of Hallam’s conditions. He wanted us to finish high school. This didn’t really bother me, because I didn’t feel prepared to step out into the real world without an education. But I figured Jason already knew enough worthless knowledge to skip to his second year of college. Jason seemed to like the idea of going to school, however. I liked it too. We held hands as we walked together to classes. We complained about the amount of homework we had. Overall, going to school wasn’t so bad. It beat stealing cars and running from the Sons.

  “The water is not that cold,” Jason said, lying back on his towel and throwing his arm over his face.

  “I’m fine on the beach,” I told him.

  I gazed at him, water glistening against the hard muscles of his body. As usual, his beauty left me breathless. I gazed at him, marveling that just the sight of him could turn my insides to jello, even now. Jason was amazing.

  My cell phone rang from inside my beach bag. Now that I had my own cash flow, I was happy to have joined the twenty-first century and finally own one. I reached into the bag and got it out. It was Chance!

  “Hey!” I said into the phone. “How’s my little brother?”

  Poor Chance. He really had no idea what had been going on in Bramford. No one knew about the coven until they were initiated when they were eighteen. He’d only known that I’d run away and that my parents had gone to look for me. He’d been nearly destroyed when he found out they were dead.

  My parents’ other foster children had been farmed out to other families. I hadn’t been able to get in touch with any of them. I hoped they were okay.

  “I’m fine,” said Chance. “How are you?”

  “I’m on the beach!” I gloated. “In a bathing suit!”

  “You suck,” Chance said. “It’s snowing here.”

  I laughed. Chance was living with Grandma Hoyt in New Jersey. Though she’d offered to take me in as well, she’d seemed relieved when I’d told her Hallam had already started proceedings to take over my guardianship. According to Chance, Grandma was never around, and he had the run of an enormous house. I didn’t feel too sorry for him, snow notwithstanding.

  “Well, you’ve got to come visit,” I said. “Soon!”

  “Oh believe me, I’m planning on it. Maybe Christmas break,” he said.

  I hadn’t seen Chance since our parents’ funeral, which had been a pretty awful event. Grandma Hoyt had flown both Jason and I up to New Jersey. My parents’ bodies had been cremated right after their death. That was the way they wanted things. Still, my grandmother insisted on having a memorial service for the family. At the request of my grandmother, no one from Bramford had been invited. That was just fine with me. I didn’t have any desire to see any of them again, not even Lilith. Grandma, Chance, Jason, and I had huddled in the church as the pastor read my parents’ eulogy. I’d listened, waiting to be wracked with sobs or even for a few tears to leak out of my eyes. I hadn’t cried. Chance had cried. I’d given him a huge hug, but Chance was taller than me, and it was hard for him to cry on my shoulder.

  I didn’t know why I couldn’t cry. I ached for my parents’ loss. But I was angry with them and disgusted by their actions. They’d always be my parents. I missed them. But maybe I’d done all the crying I could in that hotel room in Georgia those four nights. Maybe there just wasn’t anything left for them.

  No one had heard from my older brothers Noah and Gordon. The last I’d seen them was when they’d unexpectedly shown up at the ritual on Halloween. After that, they seemed to have disappeared. They hadn’t come to the funeral.

  “Let me talk to Chance,” said Jason. I handed the phone to him.

  I listened as Jason quizzed Chance about the level he was on in Grand Theft Auto . I chuckled to myself, thinking that Jason and I had been involved in the real thing. And Jason had been right. The Sons had covered up all of our criminal activities.

  Gazing out at the horizon, at the aqua water glittering like turquoise in the sunlight, I couldn’t help but feel like my life was nearly perfect.

  I didn’t think about the things Michaela Weem had said to me. I didn’t think about her threats that Jason was violent or that he and I shared a terrible power. Or. At least, I didn’t think about it much. After all, I’d made my choice. I had rejected ancient destinies and visions. I’d decided to make my own future. And my future was Jason.

  Breathless for more?

  Trembling, Jason and Azazel, Book Two

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  TREMBLING,