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Everlasting

Page 3

by C. S. Johnson


  “Hey, Alex.” She greeted me warmly, and even though I’d been going by my middle name for the last several years, I wondered who she was talking to for a longer moment than made me feel comfortable.

  One of the more important things I’d been able to do since moving away from Apollo City was go by my middle name. “Hamilton” was a novelty in college, but in the lawyer business people prefer “relatable” names.

  “So, um, are you okay, Lexy?” Charlotte asked, her face still half-hidden by the door. “I heard you, uh, had a rough night.”

  “I’m fine,” I bit back. “And stop calling me Lexy. You knew when we were dating that I hated it then. There’s no reason to think I would like it better now.”

  She opened the door completely. The first thing I noticed was that she’d cut her hair. The golden brown locks fell down to her shoulders now, making her look both younger and older at the same time.

  Good, I thought. Maybe it was a sign she’d given up on me.

  When I first met Charlotte, I couldn’t stop staring at her hair. It was nearly the same color as Raiya’s, and the length was close to the same, too. Part of me had wondered if Charlotte had been sent as a stand-in for Raiya after she died. I mean, Mary had taken that role once before, and our classmates didn’t notice. Maybe Charlotte was supposed to be something of the same for me?

  It didn’t take me long to doubt it. Even now, I couldn’t believe I ever thought that was a possibility to begin with. In recent months, I’d begun to hate it, especially after Charlotte pushed me into dating her.

  I only went on a couple dates to get her to stop asking me, cajoling me, and synching my schedule up with hers. It was properly horrifying. I certainly saw the light, but she willfully remained blind to our incompatibility.

  Maybe getting her hair cut—something she knew I wouldn’t necessarily like—was a sign she was ready to give up, and we could go back to being friends.

  “Daddy was trying to reach you,” she said.

  Ugh. What does he want?

  I looked at her expectedly.

  “He said your case for the Wilsons was moved up to this afternoon,” Charlotte said. “And he said I was going to be your partner in court today. He wants me to work on my presentation some, and he says you’re the best we have when it comes to closing arguments.”

  I bypassed the compliment. Likely it was true, but I didn’t think Mr. Dahlonega had actually said it himself. “It’s this afternoon?” I glanced at my calendar. I guess Mikey and I aren’t going to be meeting for lunch today.

  “Yes.” She took a tentative step inside the room. “Would you like to go to an early lunch with me? Daddy said it was okay if we went early so you could set up.”

  “I would appreciate it if you didn’t call Mr. Dahlonega Daddy,” I said. “I know he’s your father, but it’s not very professional. Even if you are a junior lawyer here, same as me.”

  Charlotte frowned. “So I guess that’s a no to lunch?” she asked, her voice tight.

  “I can’t make it today,” I said. There came a point when I was pushed that I would do the right thing and push back passive-aggressively.

  Pain shot through my eyes and dashed out my temples. It was time to push back, period.

  “So it’s more of a no, thank you,” I clarified. My breath sucked in as I began to rub my forehead. “I have a huge headache this morning.” I stood up and grabbed my papers, then stuffed them into my briefcase less than carefully. “I’m going to go home, grab some medicine, grab some coffee, and then I’ll see you in court.”

  “Fine.” Charlotte’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I’ll see you at one o’clock.”

  “Sharp,” I agreed as my head reeled in pain once more.

  I headed down for the parking deck and nearly limped to my car as my head balked at the cold, December air. Some part of me did believe I would’ve felt better if I’d been able to drive my motorcycle, a Dragon XL 2200, instead of my car.

  But as I pulled into the small parking lot by my apartment complex, I decided that it was a good thing I didn’t drive the motorcycle.

  For one, I didn’t want to be dead. My whole body ached, and my eyes winced at the midday light. The winter “wonderland” around me didn’t help, with the layers of snow bouncing sunshine, sparse at it was, back into my brain.

  For another, I didn’t want to be reminded of Elysian any more than I wanted to be reminded of Raiya.

  I stumbled into my door, nearly tripping over my own feet.

  I can’t wait to get to bed. This whole day needs a complete do-over.

  Getting back home and settling in for an hour or so before I went back to court would help me.

  But just like the day a meteorite decided to come crashing down into my world back in high school, life had other plans for me that day.

  I opened the door and walked in, slipping as my shoes stepped right in the middle of the small puddle of smashed glass behind my door.

  “What in the—?!” I cried, my palms catching me before my face hit the floor, only to realize there were suddenly a dozen and a half lacerations on both hands.

  Blood seeped out instantly, as I swam to get out of the glass shards. I got up and headed toward the kitchen sink, spitting out cuss words left and right.

  It was as I was wiping the soap off my cuts that I realized something was off about the situation.

  I’d broken the glass on the painting, but it hadn’t splattered out everywhere, especially not by the door.

  I glanced over by the door. The picture frame was not only smashed, but it looked like the glass had been blown out from the other side.

  That’s when I began to hear the whispers.

  “That’s got to be him.”

  “He sure doesn’t sound like one of us. He’s got no control over himself. He can’t even control his language or his mouth.”

  “We still have to ask him. He’s the one who has the—”

  “That could be a mistake, easily.”

  I grabbed a knife and made my way out to the hallway. “Who’s there?” I called, ready to defend myself.

  The voices quieted, and I could hear the pitter-patter of running feet.

  “I heard you,” I said. “And I know you heard me.”

  I waited for a long moment, before I sighed. “I’m not interested in playing hide-and-seek with a couple of thieves, but I’ll warn you I trained—”

  After a whoosh of movement, there they were.

  They were smaller than I expected.

  A boy and a girl appeared before me, dressed in normal-looking kids’ clothes. The boy was a bit younger and a bit shorter. He had brown hair and blue eyes; the girl was clearly his sister. She had the same eyes, but they were a shade darker. Her hair was cut in one of those “trendy” fashions, I guess, because it was uneven on either side. Not a bad look, I decided, but it seemed too adult for a girl I would have pegged for fourteen.

  “What are you doing in here?” I grumbled. “You’re not the neighbors’ kids, are you?”

  “No,” the girl said. “We are—”

  “We’re here looking for someone,” the boy said.

  “Lucas, stop interrupting me,” the girl snapped. “I’m the older one, so I’m in charge.”

  The boy, who I assumed at this point was named Lucas, glared back at her. “That’s how we got into this mess, Lyra. You shouldn’t have been messing with stuff, or we’d still be home, and Mom’ll kill us when we get back!”

  “You were the one who actually made the bottle break,” Lyra shot back.

  My headache, while it had dulled some since I got home, flared back to life. “Alright, stop,” I ordered. “Geez, and you were complaining that I don’t have any discipline.”

  They both looked at me, slightly shocked, but it was enough to get them to stop arguing.

  “Good,” I mockingly praised them. “Now, tell me why you’re here before I call the cops.”

  They both glanced at each other. I had the feelin
g they were communicating with their own language, and at the moment I hated it.

  It’s time to kick them out, I decided.

  “Okay, never mind.” I reached out and grabbed their shoulders, careful not to hurt them, but still wanting to show them who was in charge. “I don’t need any cookies, I’m not buying anything for fundraisers, and you really should get back to school so they can call your parents to come and get you.”

  “Stop it,” Lucas grumbled, trying to subvert me.

  “We need help,” Lyra insisted.

  “I already told you, I’m not interested in buying whatever it is you’re selling,” I snapped. “Especially since you managed to bust into my apartment. You should be glad I’m not calling the cops on—”

  “We’re looking for someone known as ‘Wingdinger,’” Lucas shouted over me.

  I paused. And nearly fell over.

  It took me less time than I expected for me to shout back, “Well, you’re going to be looking for a long time, because he’s dead. He died a long time ago.”

  “He did not,” the boy argued. “That was the cover story for SWORD.”

  My hands dropped from his shoulder. I was surprised to see they were shaking.

  “Who told you that?” I asked, as a sinking feeling took hold of me, one that was different from my other ailments this morning.

  “My dad.”

  “Your dad tell you about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, too?” I shot back. It was instinctual for me to fight back; both as a lawyer and as someone who didn’t want to lose the argument (so about the same thing, I guess). But Mikey’s news, about Apollo City, and about his dad, terrified me.

  Lucas stuck his tongue out at me. “I’m ten years old,” he announced proudly. “I know Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy aren’t real.”

  “You still cried when you found out,” his sister muttered beside me.

  I turned to face her. “Let’s not antagonize him, okay?” Lucas was just a little bit younger than Adam, I realized. It was close enough. Adam had just turned twelve some number of weeks ago. Hadn’t my assistant sent him that check?

  Lyra folded her arms across her chest in reply. “We wouldn’t even be arguing if you would just help us.”

  I could only hope that dealing with Lyra wasn’t as difficult as dealing with the boys.

  “If I’m going to help you,” I said, going through the script I used with my clients, “we should get to know each other first.”

  “Who are you?” Lucas asked.

  “I’m ... Alex,” I said, deciding that’s how I would introduce myself to their parents when I met them and told them I could easily sue them for breaking into my apartment. “I’m a lawyer. This is my apartment.”

  “I’m Lucas,” the boy said, not realizing I’d already been able to figure that out. “And this is my sister, Lyra. She says she’s in charge, but she’s not even two full years older than me. That’s not so much. I can take care of myself.”

  “Since you’re able to take care of yourself,” I said dryly, “let me go ahead and correct you on your assumptions. Women are in charge, no matter what.” (I decided I would tell him later that it was better to just let them think they were.)

  That line was enough to get Lyra to soften. Her eyes warmed up to me immediately, even if her stance was defensive.

  I almost felt myself softening toward them at their silliness. But recalling the nature of their “visit,” I pushed that instinct aside. “Now, what are you guys doing looking for Wingdinger?”

  “We need his help to get back home,” Lyra said. “He’s the one who has the portal.”

  “What portal?” I frowned. I didn’t have any idea of what she was talking about.

  “Yeah. How do you think we ended up here in the first place?” she asked.

  “I think you broke in, or let yourselves in, assuming I forgot to lock the door.” I sighed. “How long have you been here, anyway?”

  “Just a few moments,” Lyra replied.

  Looking down at the bloody mess on my hands, I rolled my eyes. “I guess you were the ones who ruined my picture frame?”

  True to kid form, Lucas puffed out his chest in proud denial. “No,” he asserted. “It was like that when we got here.”

  “If it makes you feel better,” Lyra said to me, “we landed on the glass, too.” She held up her spotless hands.

  “Well, at least you didn’t get hurt,” I said.

  She frowned. “Yes, we did. Look.”

  I glanced back, non-interested, when I saw it. There was a faint glow around her hands.

  “Oh, geez,” I sputtered. “You’re ... you’re, uh, that word.” It’s perfectly reasonable that I’ve forgotten Star language after all these years. “You’re Starlight Warriors.”

  “Duh.” Lucas rolled his eyes. “How else do you think we knew about SWORD and Wingdinger?”

  Lyra, on the other hand, perked up instantly. “You’re a Star, too,” she said. “Aren’t you?”

  “No, I’m not,” I grumbled. Not anymore.

  “How else would you know about us?” Lyra asked. “It’s a secret.”

  “Are you ever going to stop asking questions?” I groaned. No wonder I never wanted kids.

  Lyra put her hands on her hips. “Are you going to help us get home or not?”

  I rubbed my eyes, trying to process it all. “I need a drink,” I muttered. The last twenty-four hours had not been kind to me, and it didn’t seem like it was going to get any better.

  “I heard drinking’s bad for you,” Lucas said.

  “Context matters.” I grabbed another bottle of wine out of my cabinet.

  “How are you going to be able to help us if you’re drinking?”

  “If you’re a Starlight Warrior, you know about miracles,” I retorted, taking a large gulp, right out of the bottle. “Besides, I’m not sure I can help you, let alone will help you.”

  “My dad says that all Stars should help each other,” Lyra argued.

  “Well, your dad sounds like an idiot,” I snapped back. “Especially since he should know that Stars don’t all help each other.”

  “My dad is not an idiot!” she yelled.

  Instantly, the force behind her words blew power past me. My bottle was blown out of my hand, and my kitchen shook from her outburst.

  Instantly, I cursed at the shattered glass, but I was appropriately terrified and appalled. I had removed as much supernatural activity from my life as I could. It had been awhile since I’d seen any; I’d forgotten it all, and how disconcerting it was to see it.

  I grabbed a paper towel and began cleaning up. It was only when I heard the boy’s small sniffles in the next room that I stopped.

  They’re just kids. And it looks like they need help getting home. I better be nicer to them. I wouldn’t want their parents trying to sue me.

  Especially if they did know about things like Starlight Warriors and SWORD. That could be dangerous. The last thing I needed was to run into SWORD again.

  I walked into the living room, looking for Lyra. I didn’t have far to go. Lucas had his arm protectively around Lyra. I almost smiled at the picture they made.

  “Lyra’s just coming into her second level of power,” Lucas said, rushing to explain his sister’s misbehavior. “She doesn’t have a lot of control over them yet sometimes.”

  “Shush, Lucas!” Lyra snapped. “He doesn’t need to know. He’s just a stranger.” She glared at me, making me feel even more uncomfortable. “And a mean one, at that.”

  “Look, I’m sorry,” I said, the words feeling crusty as they came out of my mouth. “I don’t know if I can help you. Let me think of a plan.”

  “I want my mommy,” Lucas whispered, still whimpering.

  “Come here.” I knelt down next to him and opened my arms. Without a word, he came running, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Just as if it was the most natural thing in the world for me to wrap him up and hold him tight.

  It has been
a long time since I’ve seen Adam, I thought. Maybe I missed him more than I let myself realize.

  “We need your help. You wouldn’t just toss us out, would you?” Lucas asked.

  “No,” I said, already wondering if I was going to regret it.

  “Are you going to help us, then?” Lyra asked. She remained skeptical.

  I admired her for it; it was a smart move. I wasn’t entirely sure of how I could help them.

  They needed to get home, and I didn’t know much about finding people’s parents. I worked with international regulations and finances. Family law was more of Cheryl’s forte.

  “Tell me what happened,” I said. “How did you get here?”

  “We were playing with our mom’s stuff,” Lyra admitted. “It had some trace elements of Time’s power in it. We got sucked in and that’s how we ended up here.”

  “Time’s power?” I asked.

  “You know. Lady Time.”

  “Alora?”

  “Duh,” Lucas said.

  I frowned at him. “You’re killing me with that routine, kid.”

  He stuck his tongue out at me and then went to go sit on the couch. He laid his head down on the pillow and curled his legs under his chest. “I’m tired,” he murmured.

  Lyra sighed. “You don’t have time to be tired, Lucas.”

  “My mom would be able to help you,” I said slowly. “She works as a lawyer. I think she has some experience working with families.”

  If nothing else, she should still be able to connect with Dante, I thought bitterly. He might be able to help us get these kids back to their parents, whoever they are.

  He was the one who told me before, years ago, that there were other fallen Stars on Earth. Surely he’d have some idea of whose kids these were, and where they were located. SWORD struck me as the kind of company that would tag people like animals if they could get away with it.

  “When can we leave?” Lyra asked.

  “Let me make a few calls,” I said, wondering if I could get a moment to take some medication. I had a feeling Cheryl was going to flip when I talked to her.

  Of course, that was assuming she answered her phone. She didn’t do that much when I was a teenager, and I doubted she would be more reliable now.

 

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