Burning Emerald by Jaime Reed Read Free Book Online Page B

plastic fangs and fake blood dripped from painted lips.
    And where was I? Locked in the girls’ bathroom, blowing up Caleb’s phone for the fifth time today. Caleb and I were quickly turning into the couple we’d sworn to never become: strung out and wondering what the other was doing, and calling at random just to hear them breathe. How disgusting is that? But there I was, in the handicap stall, sending cutesy text messages with numeric hearts and smiley faces. Satisfied, if only for the moment, I tucked my phone in my bag and went to my last class.
    School, work, Mia’s ongoing drama, and the suspicion of supernatural doom had me running around like a headless chicken. Caleb was the only thing that kept me going, my life support.
    During our wireless romance, he bitched about his Jeep, from repairs to the crooked insurance company, and wondered whether he should pimp his ride with new rims. The police reported the incident with Caleb’s car as vandalism, though all the evidence pointed to a failed Mob-style hit. This didn’t surprise me. Last summer had Williamsburg’s finest running scared, and they stuck to the “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy when it came to Caleb and my family.
    However, what did surprise me was Caleb’s flippant attitude. Whether it was denial or stubbornness, he was ignoring the signs that bad times were a-comin’. He had always been protective and fought hard to keep me out of danger, but there was a fine line between protection and omitting vital information. His secrecy had caused a rocky start to our relationship, but I’d believed our link would’ve put an end to that. When I went home to change for work, I realized we had more ground to cover in the trust department. This latest bombshell came in a FedEx box that waited at my front door.
    Carrying the package to the stairs inside, I noticed it was addressed to Mom and me with a European zip code and stamp. I ripped at the cardboard and burrowed into the crumpled Styrofoam until my fingers retrieved from the bottom what appeared to be two old spell books. Bound in aged leather with a buckle fastening, each volume carried the thickness and weight of a dictionary.
    My fingers played with the buckle when a cream-colored envelope caught my eye. I recognized the handwriting immediately, and the smile on my face started to hurt. I had become accustomed to her long-winded emails, so this one-page note left me intrigued.

    Dearest Samara,
    How are you, little one? I hope you are doing well and that you’re excelling in your studies. Are you practicing the memory exercises I showed you? They’re tedious, I know, but you must stay vigilant to accelerate the recognition process. The spirit will not draw from those it knows. This may not work with new people you meet now, but it will help you with the male friends you already knew from school, so please practice at least three times a day.
    Forgive this brief letter, but I’m away on business and my time is limited. I regret to say that my schedule will not allow me to visit you as I wish. By now, you are probably wondering about the books I enclosed with this letter. They are a collection of letters and journal entries from my ancestors that your mother requested. I have also bookmarked several passages that might be of interest to you, mostly involving Cambion bonding.
    This is a very serious matter that you and Caleb need to discuss before you consummate your relationship. I have already discussed this with your mother, and though your bonding is inevitable, she agrees that this is not a matter to take lightly. So please read the marked passages so you don’t enter a situation blindly, because this decision will affect the rest of your life and it cannot be undone.
    I wish I could share these things in person, but these books will have to suffice until we meet again. Until then, give Caleb my love.
    Take care and celebrate