The Locket (10 page)

There’s so much you don’t know.

Brent words echoed in my mind.

Looking around the garage once more before getting in the Audi, I observed a really old car, probably from the 1930’s in the far corner. It was cherry apple red and squarely shaped. A spare tire was mounted to the passenger side. It appeared the garage housed a vehicle from every decade over the last hundred years. I wished I had time to examine all of them, but that wasn’t possible. Time was something I did not have. Climbing into the Audi, my Audi, I chuckled, as I flicked the pine tree that dangled from the mirror.

Brent climbed in the driver’s seat next to me. Gauging me carefully, he asked if I was feeling all right. After reassuring him I was fine, he started the Audi. The engine roared to life, purring like a kitten while it sat idle. He retrieved a remote from the glove box, attaching it to the visor, then slowly backed out of the garage and hit a button on the remote. The garage doors closed and we turned down a slim path that looked more like a walking trail than a road. In a few short minutes, we pulled onto the main road through town and were on our way. Filled with anticipation, I wanted to ask him a million questions. My body disagreed, begging me to sleep. Brent asked if I was cold. I nodded yes, a verbal answer requiring too much effort. He turned the heat on and hit a button in-between the seats. My seat suddenly started to warm beneath me.

“Top of the line,” I mumbled. He smiled and I drifted off to sleep.

“Do you want to see the rest?” Brent interrupted my observation.

“Yes!” I shouted excitedly, exiting the Audi.

Brent grabbed my bag and joined me outside. I walked up the large stone stairs to the deck and he followed. Strolling to the gazebo, I immediately made out the ocean view. It was dark and the moon reflecting across the water made it appear like a field of crumpled up newspaper. Inhaling the sweet salt air, I shivered as the breeze coming off the water chilled me.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

“It’s better and warmer in the daylight,” he added. “Let’s go inside.”

Walking back to the front door, Brent held my hand, sparking the familiarity I felt for him. The feeling was undeniable. I knew him from somewhere. I wanted to ask him again, but ignored it.

He entered a code into another hidden box. The front door clicked. Pushing the door open, my jaw dropped. It was like no home I had ever been in. Of course, the thick annoying smell of pine filled the air. I plugged my nose with my fingers, making a face at Brent. He laughed, rolling his eyes.

“Go ahead, look around. I’ll put your things away.”

On the first floor, there were cherry wood floors spilling into each room. The entry way had an exquisitely built staircase that spiraled up three floors. Fine craftsmanship on the banister and railings were the mark of someone who took their time, enjoying what they were doing. Extensive built in cabinetry, wood moldings, and fine fabric window dressings were in every room. I spotted a fully equipped gourmet kitchen with a large island stovetop in the center. The rooms were beautifully decorated throughout the house, including ceramic tiles, original paintings and other fine art that appeared to be the work of local artists. I noticed huge French doors in the great room. Opening them, it took my breath away. The house sat built into a bluff above the ocean. Two decks below were joined together by stairs overlooking the water, a paradise-inspired garden rest at the bottom. I took the stairs down to walk through it. The garden had a built in hot tub and led down to a lower deck and rocky beach below. Feeling breathless by my surroundings, I was excited to investigate.

After working my way down several steps, I finally arrived on the beach. It was lined with small cobblestones as far as my eyes could see. The moonlight reflected softly against the curve of each stone. The rough sea had rubbed them free of sharp edges or cracks and only a soft surface remained. Reaching down, I picked one up in my hand. It was smooth against my skin.
Perfect skipping rocks
, is what my dad would have said. I looked up at the sky.

“This one’s for you, Dad,” I said aloud, hurling a rock towards the open water, watching it skip easily along the surface.

He had tried countless times to teach me how to skip rocks on the river as a kid. I had thrown a million rocks into that river, reaching back and launching them as hard as I could. Each time the rock would hit the water with a thud and sink, but my dad had been patient and encouraged me to keep practicing.

I did it, daddy!

Tears flowed slowly and I felt a soft hand brush across my cheek wiping them away.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Brent asked so sweetly that I wanted to melt into his arms.

“It’s amazing. I’ve never been on a beach with so many stones.”

“That’s how the beach got its name,” he said.

I studied the stones closer. “Oh, and you thought you needed a chemistry lesson, Mr. Cassidy.”

Most of the pebbles had a reddish hue, dark enough to be almost brown. Jasper was an iron-rich form of silica, and the abundance of iron gave jasper its reddish hue. Thus the name Jasper Beach was an obvious choice.

“Touché, Ms. Blake,” he retorted. “I actually do quite well in chem class.”

“I thought it was odd that you asked for help on the first day.”

“I actually just needed an excuse to be close to you,” he admitted.

My insides tingled, but only briefly. Realizing he meant he needed to be close in case he needed to protect me and not because he had actual feelings for me, I turned back to the water.

After staring at the vast ocean for several more minutes, Brent said we really needed to go up to the house. It was late and I should get a good nights’ sleep. I hoped he didn’t think I was sleeping until he answered some of my questions.

We made our way up to the house and Brent took me upstairs, showing me to one of the bedrooms. It was bigger than Maggie’s entire house. A huge, white four-poster bed sat centered on the back wall. It had royal-blue bedding. The room was decorated in a classic nautical theme. There was one wall of nothing but windows looking out on the Atlantic with a seating area in front of them and a huge stone fireplace on a side wall.

Brent was staring out of the window, thinking about something, the look on his face unsettling.

“Brent.” I interrupted quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Turning to face me, his mouth formed a slight curve in a smile.

“You must be exhausted,” he said, approaching me.

“I am, but we really need to talk about what happened,” I replied, pleading to him for answers.

“I know we do Claire, but it’s late and you should sleep.”

He was right, so I didn’t argue. “Okay, but you promise, first thing tomorrow, you’ll tell me everything.”

“Yes, Claire, I promise,” he replied, motioning a cross over his heart, making me smile at the boyish gesture. “The bathroom is through that door, if you need to use it,” Brent offered, nodding towards a door on the side of the room.

Reaching in my bag, I grabbed my toiletries, along with a pair of pajamas. The bathroom, like everything else in the house, was bigger than I had ever seen. An old iron tub sat on the side of the room in front of a grand picture window. There was a walk-in shower on the other side. A vanity rested on the back wall with two sinks and enough cabinetry to house everything I owned.

Setting my belongings on the counter, I gripped the cold tile. Taking in a deep breath, fatigue sank in and I tried not to think too hard about what happened at my aunt’s house. I brushed my teeth and washed my face. Every inch of me ached. My neck felt especially sore. Looking at my disheveled self in the mirror, I thought I saw the faint impression of handprints on my neck, like the ones on my chest from Logan. That can’t be, I thought. That was just a dream. Logan did not actually attack me. I rushed to turn on every light in the giant room, and then returned to the mirror, gasping in shock. I ripped my t-shirt over my head to expose my chest and screamed in horror.

Brent was at my side in seconds. His expression was terrified when he saw the dark handprints on my chest and neck. The bruises on my chest were so dark now it looked like they had been drawn on with charcoal.

“Logan is an Anchor? How did I miss that?” he shouted, darting from the room. I chased him, ignoring that I was still in my bra.

I was right behind him as he descended the stairs. “What? What the hell is going on Brent?” I demanded.

He ignored me, grabbing his cell phone off the counter. I stared at him with my hands firmly on my hips, begging for him to acknowledge me, to tell me what was going on. He pushed a single button, held the phone to his ear and began to speak.

“I missed something … Logan is an Anchor … I don’t know how, but I’m positive… because she’s marked…Yes, I’m sure no one followed us…Don’t worry, I’ll keep her safe…Yes, I got all of the Couriers…I know the ramifications…No, I haven’t told her anything yet, I think she should sleep first…Okay, don’t come until you’re sure it’s safe. I’ve got her…Okay…Bye.” He pulled the phone from his ear and hit a button ending the call.

Brent gripped the phone so tight I thought it was going to splinter in his hands. Grumbling something under his breath, he threw the phone at a chair. His eyes were dark and his jaw was tight, his teeth clenched and I gawked at him, terrified.

He saw me and relaxed, taking my face in his hands, his touch mollifying my distress. “I’m so sorry, Claire. I don’t know how this happened. He should have never gotten to you. I failed. I fucking failed. I’m going to make it right, okay?”

My head was spinning. Feeling like I was always left in the dark when it came to my life, I grunted my frustration. “What are you talking about? Logan did this to me?” I questioned, pointing to the hideous marks on my body. “How? Why?”

“Yes…, Logan did this to you in a roundabout way but it was my fault… I’m supposed to protect you, Claire.”

Rage boiled inside of me on the verge of erupting. Not just towards Brent but also towards my parents. I was tired of the secrets. I wanted out of the dark.

“Would you please quit talking in circles and just tell me what the hell is going on. Why does everyone treat me like I’m made of glass? Obviously I’m not,” I shouted, pointing towards my chest. It was then I realized I was still in my bra. Heat rushed to my cheeks and I suddenly felt smothered by my discomfiture.

Brent removed his t-shirt and handed it to me. His body was pure perfection with muscles sculpted like an athlete – maybe a swimmer. He had broad protective shoulders and underwear model abs. Catching me staring at him, his mouth formed a half smile. I slid his shirt on, smelling his familiar smell, so good, powder and spice. Even his scent was familiar to me. He said we didn’t know each other, but the more time I spent with him, I was positive I knew him from somewhere. I wanted to hold his t-shirt to my nose and breathe him in. My cheeks blushed.
Should I crawl away now?
I was not even sure why I was mad anymore.

“Look Claire, it’s a long story and…” Brent started.

I interrupted, remembering that I was upset because he continued to treat me like a fragile child.

“Then give me the short one. You can fill in the rest tomorrow but I’m not going to bed until you talk, so start talking, Brent,” I demanded.

Running his fingers through his hair hastily, I knew he was giving in and he let out an exaggerated sigh.

“I know your parents told you that you’re special, Claire and in our world, you are. What I can tell you for now is that…I am your Aegis. My purpose in your life is by design, to keep you safe. I was chosen because of my loyalty toward you. I am your protector. I’ve been in your life for a very long time, most of your life, in fact.” He paused as though my thoughts interrupted him.

“But how can that be? I just met you?”

“I was getting to that,” he explained. “As your Aegis, I attain certain abilities as I age, things that help me to protect you. One of my abilities is trans-semblance and I have had it since I was a small child.” He noted my confusion and continued. “Some would call it morphing, but that’s just an urban term. I have always been in your life but never as myself. Since you returned to Northfield and were so close to eighteen, it was determined I no longer needed to conceal myself to you. You see, at age eighteen, you’ll come into your own abilities. We would have to tell you everything, preparing you for who you are.”

“And who is that?” I prompted.

“The Locket,” he replied proudly as though I should have a clue what he was referring to.

My mind was trying to sort things out.

What the hell is a locket?

I would get back to that later. For now, I was curious as to how he had been in my life all this time, yet I had never met him before yesterday. This explained why he felt so familiar to me. He was. I did know him.

“If we only met yesterday, then who have you been to me all these years?” I asked curiously and hesitantly.

Brent took my hand, steering me towards the sofa. He sat, pulling me down to sit next him and started filling me in.