The Soul Mate Read Online Free PDF Page A

couldn’t stay with the clan
because he wasn’t a Roma right?”
    Surprise lit his features and for a moment I
didn’t think he would answer me.
    Then, “Yeah.”
    “So what makes me any different? Is it just
because it isn’t safe out there? If it was would I have to go?”
    Xan just stared at me, his body ridged. I
gathered his father was a sore subject.
    “I don’t know,” He finally said. “Now, my
laundry?” He nodded toward the bag and walked away.
    I huffed. “Jerk.”

CHAPTER THREE
    Serbia, 1065 A.C.E
    “ Emilian! Emilian! Hurry, before my mami
sees!” Treime giggled at his surprised look as she tore past him.
Colorful petals now sprinkled the countryside as her long black
hair blew out behind her. The wildflowers and intricate braids that
had been woven into her hair for the earlier festival were both
lost to the wind.
    His footsteps behind were a heavy stampede.
Her little heart began to race in anticipation the louder and
closer they grew. Treime’s excitement was palpable; it was easy to
ignore the dirty looks and nasty comments from the Gaje villagers
as they ran past them.
    Treime let loose a scream of frustration as
the tips of his fingers brushed against her back. He was gaining on
her. Again.
    On a whim she changed direction toward the
village well near the outskirts of the forest, but she hadn’t been
fast enough. Emilian’s hands slipped around her middle and in mid
run she was swung up through the air as Emilian began to laugh.
    He crushed her against him and twirled until
she gasped for air.
    “ Ah puţin o…” He laughed harder. “You’ll
never be faster than me. It’s just not possible.”
    His dark brown eyes flashed gray as he set
her down and tapped her on the nose. Treime stomped her feet and
crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”
    Emilian shrugged unapologetically, still
grinning. “Well for starters because you’re 9 and I’m 16 but mostly
because you’re a girl.”
    Treime, suddenly angry, grabbed his wrist and
released forth a string of the most unfeminine curses she could
think of.
    She waited for Emilian to start laughing. He
always did when she cursed. He’d taught her most of them. Instead
he’d grown unusually quiet, his eyes somewhat unfocused as he
stared down at her.
    “ Emilian?” She shook his wrist, feeling
his warm skin twitch under her hand. Treime loved the way their
skin warmed when it touched. It never did that when she touched
anyone else and she’d never told anyone about it either.
    She wanted it to be their secret. Someday,
she though, when she was older, she would tell Emilian about it
too.
    Emilian jerked his arm out of her grasp and
frowned at her. Treime’s lower lip started to tremble. Did he know?
Was he mad?
    “ Go home Treime, no more playing
today.”
    “ But Emi-
    “ Go.” His eyes had turned gray and
Treime’s entire body warmed at the sight of them. Whenever
Emilian’s eyes changed color, all she wanted was to be closer to
him, to hug him, to hear his stories, and the songs he sung, even
though she’d heard them all a hundred times before.
    “ Don’t make me say it again Treime,”
Emilian’s eyes flashed white with anger. Treime backed slowly away
from him, no longer recognizing her friend. Suddenly, Emilian’s
fist shot out, connecting with the solid stone wall surrounding the
well. With a scream, Treime ran from him, stopping only when she
found a wide tree trunk to hide behind.
    He brought his hand back to him covered in
blood.
    “ Are you hurt?” A small voice
asked.
    A village girl was approaching the well
clutching a large bucket to her chest.
    “ I could help you,” The girl said.
    Slowly, he turned toward the villager and
Treime watched in astonishment as her best friend smiled at the
silly girl.
    Was he going to talk to her, a Gaje? They
thought the Romani people were thieving beggar scum. Her clan had
to move all the time because of people like her.
    Holding out his injured hand for the Gaje
girl’s