Spark

by Angelina J. Steffort

  When I stepped into the Science building, it wasn’t Toby I saw.

  “A rare guest,” Maureen’s satin voice said beside me.

  I hadn’t heard any footsteps catching up with me, so I jumped and looked into her pale face. A menacing force of evil was working under the pretty layer of her face. I could see it with my sixth sense. It made me shudder, as if touched by a cold hand.

  “I can see you have changed,” she said and pulled me into a niche beside the ladies’ room. I was surprised by her strength. After everything I had learned about myself in those past days, I was certain a human being wouldn’t be able to just pull me aside. She had. With two fingers.

  As I failed to speak, she grinned. Not the sweet girlish smile she used to give me, but a somehow frightening version of it.

  “Adam, it’s time to stop beating around the bush.” She took my hand. “You have something I want.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I felt in her direction, trying to perceive her emotions. There was no hint of desire for me, at least not the way she had felt before. There was a greed for something she saw in me as her eyes lost focus and she seemed to look right through me.

  “I would drain you right here,” she let go of my hand and lifted her fingers to my ear. “But Alabaster said I couldn’t do that. I need to bring you in alive. And you don’t want to disappoint Alabaster, trust me.”

  I didn’t understand. My eyes were looking around, searching for help, but the hallway was empty. Classes had started and even if there had been people, they wouldn’t have noticed us here in the dark corner behind the column.

  Maureen laughed at my confused expression. “Your light, Adam. Who did you mark?”

  Had she just said…? I was scared and fascinated at the same time. Maureen knew? How could she know about me?

  “Is it the girl?” she pressed for information.

  “Who are you?” I asked in return.

  “Just plain old me,” she winked at me. “Just now, I don’t need to hide from you anymore.” The violence in her aura disappeared. There was a hint of emotion. Something like affection. “I wish I had a choice…” Her hand reached up to her necklace and enclosed the silver pendant. “I like you, Adam, I really do. I wish we could be on the same side, it would make things so much easier. The best I can do is not tell them about you. That’s all I can do for you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “If it’s the girl, stay away from her. It’s the only way you can protect her.”

  Before I could reason with her, the affection disappeared and she snapped back into the cold vision of herself.

  “Read chapter thirteen,” she said and marched off.

  Was she talking about the mysterious book from the library? I ran after her. She was the first one who seemed to know what was going on and I needed to know more. Maybe she could help me. But then, her words had been more of a threat than an encouragement. As I made it to the corner, she had disappeared. Frustration hit me hard and I wished I had brought the book with me so I could dive into chapter thirteen. Was Claire in danger?

  The accumulating emotions pushed me over the edge. I stumbled over my own feet, and the next thing I knew, I was in my bedroom. It was hard not to panic. I had teleported. Just like that. Thank God, I’d been prepared something like this might be coming, otherwise I would be screaming at the top of my lungs right now.

  Shaking all over my body, I took a second to consider what was more important, figuring out how teleporting worked, or solving Maureen’s riddle. My head chose the riddle and I dove into my drawer, pulling out the book, breathless for the first time in weeks, but not because of physical strain, but the sheer exhaustion of my emotional capacities. Maureen had said I should stay away from Claire. It was the only way to save her. Had that been another attempt to sabotage my relationship with Claire, or had there been truth to it? The affection she had emitted had seemed real, and the evil aura immediately let me question her words.

  Chapter thirteen. I flipped through the pages, looking for the number and found it in the last third of the book, countless notes scribbled on the side. Angels and their enemies, it read.

  Referring to the mark of an angel, it is the most dangerous weapon a demon can gain. Once in possession of the mark, a demon holds power over the angel to an extent that it is able to enslave the angel.

  Demons. I considered getting upset but then found a logic in it which surprised me. If there was the ultimate good, why wouldn’t there be the ultimate evil existing in the same universe? A balance of forces. Like physics. Action causes reaction. Conservation of energy—energy isn’t created or destroyed, it just changes its form. Energy, seeing it not as an element of physics, but as something more fundamental. Good and evil. Two sides balancing each other. No good without the contrast of bad…

  My eyes kept flying over the pages, absorbing every word, and stumbled over something which would change everything. In order to enslave the angel, the mark has to be stripped from the catalyst’s soul. This process involves methods beyond the ones of known torture. It leaves the remaining being broken and empty, a shell without purpose and lost in eternal pain, and their angel a victim of insanity, death being an act of mercy only the highest of angels can bestow on them.

  As I read, an image formed before my inner eye. Claire’s slender shape, lifeless and drained of the spark our bond had created in her. Claire…

  The only way Maureen could know was if she was standing on one of the two sides, and she had made it clear we weren’t on the same one. So, this would leave me on the side of the good and her on the side of the evil? Was she a demon? I flipped the page hoping, and fearing to find more information and my eyes fell on a drawing. It was the symbol Maureen was wearing on her necklace. Again, I shuddered. If she was a demon, why had she warned me?

  The book confirmed her words. If what the text said was true, it seemed it didn’t matter how I felt about Claire. I would have to let her go. Best not to be associated with her at all. If I was never seen with her again, the other side might not ever find out she was my mark. Nausea built up inside my stomach at the thought. How could I just disappear from her life? Didn’t our bond mean we were meant to be together, one way or another?

  As I spiraled into a pit of despair, revulsion built up inside of me. How could I trust a small book I had no further information on? Anyone could have put it in the library for me to find… But a small voice at the back of my mind told me to be logical. It didn’t matter what the book said. I was living proof that this was real. My wings, the teleporting, lifting the Jeep in the woods…

  As I laid down on the bed, trying to make up my mind, another thought disturbed me. What would Claire think of me if I just disappeared forever? Could I do that to her? Could I do it to myself? Where was the rational Adam, capable of logical deduction? I was one, big throbbing heart with Claire’s name burning hotter and hotter into it as I wondered about the best way of explaining to her that we could never be.

  15

  Intermezzo

  The following days were filled with conversations I’d rather not have. Family Christmas plans—Ben was going skiing and Jenna and Dad were planning on spending a couple of days together in the country. Naturally, everything would happen after the big celebrations. Geoffrey seemed to be as excited about Christmas as the rest of the family—except for brooding me.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to bring Claire over for Christmas?” Jenna asked for maybe the seventh time, followed by an inevitable grunt from Ben, who was leaning on the sofa in the living room.

  “I would love to.” That was the truth. “I think she has other plans, though.” That was the truth, too. Not having spoken to her—painful as it was—meant she would have made plans for Christmas and they wouldn’t include me. It was also the truth that I didn’t know what those plans were.

  Dad eyed me from over the rim of his newspaper.

  “I need to study anyway,” I
excused my lack of enthusiasm for the usually jolly event. “Bennet is calling for another paper and he wants blood. I am determined not to let him have mine.” Everyone grimaced as they all recalled my vivid retelling of professor Bennet’s recent go on the quality of Karren’s paper and I was grateful their attention went there instead of lingering on me and my troubled mood.

  Every time I caught myself thinking of Claire, I forbid it. It was too painful to imagine how we could have spent New Year’s together. We could have driven up to Chicago and spent a couple of days there, just the two of us… My mind drifted despite my rigorous attempts of blocking every thought of her.

  On Christmas morning, Ben caught me after breakfast, pulling me aside.

  “You haven’t seen Claire in a while,” he commented.

  I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I hadn’t made a big deal out of it, but of course, my family had noticed something was different between us. So far, Ben was the only one to address the subject.

  “Why is that?”

  I couldn’t tell what annoyed me more, that he seemed to be pleased about the development of things or that he pushed me back into my spiral of despair with his observation.

  “We’re both busy,” I lied. An open lie for the first time since everything had started.

  “Come on, Adam, you can fool Mom and Dad, but you can’t fool me.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  For a moment, I considered teleporting out of there, but it was the worst of all options. It would be better to let him believe Claire and I had broken up and save myself more questions or the risk of exposing myself.

  “It didn’t work out the way I expected.” That was the truth again.

  “Did she hurt you?” There was concern on his young face, knitting his brows together.

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “You don’t bring a girl home to meet Mom and Dad and then just let her disappear…”

  “I disappeared, Ben,” I interrupted before he could make up his own story about what happened. “It’s better this way. I can’t see her anymore.”

  This was all the information he would get and he knew it. I knew he knew it from the way his eagerness for information deflated and compassion filled the air around us.

  “I am sorry. I know you loved her.”

  Love. I still did love her. Even if I could never be with her in the eons to come, I was certain my heart wouldn’t beat for anyone else ever again.

  “If you want to talk, let me know.” He laid his hand on my arm. “I’m here for you. Always.”

  I knew he was, and he was serious about it. And a part of me wanted to spill everything, just to get the burden off my shoulders, but at this point it was clear, anyone who was somehow connected to me was in danger. It would be best if I simply disappeared for a while, out of the country maybe, so the demons—assuming there were more than just one—wouldn’t see any reason to threaten my family.

  Thinking about threats, Maureen’s initial threat toward Claire made sudden sense now that I saw her in a whole new light—or darkness. If she truly belonged to the other side, she would have the powers to harm Claire way worse than any jealous human girl could ever do.

  “Thanks.”

  We went our own ways, he packing for skiing and me, back to my dilemma. With every second, it became more absurd that my love for Claire would put her in danger. But that wasn’t what it was. My selfishness had put her in danger. I just couldn’t let her go when I’d had the chance. I had to return to her. Driven by my emotional vision or not, a rational mind should be capable of putting emotions aside, no matter how strong they were. I would doom her by my sheer presence.

  My mood didn’t improve until I had read the mysterious book from cover to cover several times and I was ready to return it to the library. Someone had put it there, and if it had helped me, it might help someone else someday. The reason for my mood change, however, wasn’t the fact that I had memorized the yellowed pages, but that I was going to a place where I could feel Claire. It was a Thursday, and if I was quick enough, I would probably even see her, something I had forbidden myself ever since I’d learned about the demons.

  The stairs to the library were inviting as I sprinted up and inside, dodging the cold like everyone else. Just a normal customer. The blond boy was just packing up when I walked up to the counter at quarter to two. It wouldn’t be long and Claire would follow my exact steps. Only she would walk behind the counter and take her place there. She was probably even going to put my book back onto the shelves. As I handed it to the boy, I imagined a layer of my love enveloping it. Maybe if Claire picked it up, she would feel me. It was a thought that normally wouldn’t spring from my mind, but I was desperate. Desperate to communicate with her somehow without drawing the demons’ attention. Maybe texting on the phone would be safe, and maybe it wouldn’t. I could no longer tell how the world worked, but I didn’t want to take any risk with Claire. Even if she wasn’t part of my life, I saw it as my duty to make sure she was safe. And me not being near her was part of what it meant to keep her safe.

  I rushed back outside the second the boy checked the book back into the system, eager to disappear into the trees across the street and catch a glimpse of Claire when she came in. I wasn’t disappointed. My rational half was screaming at me in dismay. How could I put her in danger like this? Wouldn’t the demons notice how I was lingering? I assumed they were already watching me, or Maureen wouldn’t have shown up to warn me. Had it been a warning?

  As I leaned against the tree trunk, unbothered by the icy air and the uninviting rough texture behind my back, I spotted Claire’s slender figure as she walked up the same stairs my feet had touched a couple of minutes ago. Her frustration was written in the way she pushed herself through the door, and there was a trail of pain and rejection wafting out behind her. My heart sank as I watched her struggle with my faults. She hadn’t chosen for me to be what I was—who I was. Why should she suffer from it? My arms were yearning to wrap themselves around her and console her, but I could never again allow myself to give in to those impulses.

  My feet weren’t exactly willing to carry me back to my car, and so I remained there at the tree trunk and closed my eyes, ignoring passing pedestrians with their emotional loads and their motives. I tuned out everything, consoled by the pure knowledge that Claire was right behind that window. Even if I couldn’t be with her, I could be there, near her, even if only for a little while.

  It was growing dark when I decided I couldn’t procrastinate any longer. I ghosted through the shadows up to the library, allowing myself a long look at her face before I forced myself to say goodbye. The road back home seemed longer than it had ever before, and I earned another look of concern as I went to bed without dinner.

  My dreams that night were full of Claire. Her face was everywhere, and so was her sadness. But we weren’t alone. There were dark creatures springing from every corner of the dream, they were circling her, and all I could do was sit and watch. “Run,” I yelled at her before I sat upright in my bed, wide awake.

  “Are you alright?” Dad asked as I ran into him at the bottom of the stairs on his way out. “I heard you scream.”

  Had I actually yelled in my dream? “Just a nightmare,” I reassured him.

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  “Not really.” I didn’t need to think to know I couldn’t tell him. Not because of the content of the dream, but because of the questions it would raise about Claire and why she hadn’t visited us in a while. As much as I loved my family, it was beginning to cost me a lot of my already waning strength to keep secrets from them. But it was for the best. Now that I knew about the demons, telling them just wasn’t an option. Not that it would have been before.

  “Jenna’s concert is coming up,” he reminded me on his way out. “It’s in less than two weeks. You’re still planning to go, right?”

  Geoffrey waited patiently for our conversation to come to an end,
trying to avoid paying attention to what was being said.

  “Of course.” Now more than ever I needed to stick to normality—except for long evenings with my family where I could be drawn into uncomfortable conversations, but a charity event was fine, no one would bring up stressful topics there.

  With a small bow, Geoffrey closed the door behind Dad before he turned toward me. “Breakfast, Master Adam?”

  Why not? I had a long day of classes and some reading ahead of me. That meant I would be talking to Toby and he would inevitably ask me about my love-life. Unless I managed to get him to talk about his first. Putting this down as a tactic in my head, I followed Geoffrey to the kitchen, where he was already putting together fresh toast and coffee for me.

  “Thanks,” I sat down with my plate, the butler’s emotions following me as he placed the coffee mug down on the table in front of me.

  “If I may, Master Adam,” he stood beside me with concerned eyes, waiting for me to sanction his open words. I nodded.

  He smiled and relaxed his stance. “Miss Gabriel hasn’t been around in a while.” He paused to wait for my reaction. I focused on not showing any signs of the emotional turmoil her name alone pushed me into. “I don’t want to overstep any boundaries, but it seems your bad mood correlates with her absence.”

  I bit the toast hard, avoiding answering right away. Geoffrey, quiet and discrete as he was, was observant. He was right and for some reason, it was easier to hear it from his lips than from Jenna’s or Ben’s or even Dad’s.

  “Claire is no longer part of my life,” I said with a sour taste in my mouth. “I’ve got my reasons.”

  “I am sorry, Sir,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “You didn’t.” I didn’t want him to feel bad. He knew me better than most people. Of course, he was right with his observation. “Don’t worry about it, please. Just, if she calls the house, let her know I’m unavailable. Find an excuse.”