Feather: Book One
Page 24
He dragged me to the middle of the field by my arm like a mother would with her disobedient child. I gave him a sour face, I wasn’t sorry for what I’d done, it was great out here, and besides, no harm had come of it.
“You’re really testing my patience Elle. I don’t think you really want to make me angry. It’s not safe out here. I’m not just saying that.” The iron grasp he had on me was relentless and he stopped to face me, his eyes still angry but beginning to soften under my touch.
My brows were fixed in stubborn anger.
“Look,” he sighed, “I understand…”
Something white popped through the snow over his shoulder and my gaze locked on the cat, peeping over a log, “Look, look Edgar!” I gasped, pointing one shaking hand toward the cat.
Edgar spun, a look of terror on his face, but the cat was already gone. His body was rigid and his chest rising. “Estella,” the way he said my name sent shivers down my spine, “Honestly, I’m taking you inside, and that’s it!” he hissed.
I was still looking to the log, waiting for the cat to pop its head back up as he dragged me away. After determining it wasn’t coming back, I looked at Edgar with a sheepish grin, hoping he’d forgive me.
He sighed. “I’m sorry,” his eyes were now calm, “I just, I can’t lose you ok? This is for your own good. You got your jollies out, now let’s just be careful ok?”
I nodded in compliance and despite my stubbornness I knew he was right. I was being stupid, but still. I saw what I saw and I knew whatever it was, wasn’t dangerous. I had the same feeling about the cat as I did that day in the woods, when something large was following me. Turns out, the giant thing was just Sam, spying on me. I snarled at the thought of it and I felt like a gullible idiot. This cat though, there was something about it. It was as though it was trying to get my attention, trying to tell me something important.
I watched him glancing around with a concentrated look on his face, “What are you doing?” I finally asked.
His eyes locked on mine, “Just listening to make sure there really isn’t something there. Sam would have said something though. He would have been able to hear its thoughts.”
I gave him a strange look, “See, you do believe me.”
His lips finally relaxed into a crooked smile, “Elle, I trust you, but I don’t think there’s anything there, really, I can’t hear anything. I don’t want to say it but I think you’re just seeing things”
Suddenly, without a warning from Edgar, everything began spinning and the snow was replaced with the black granite of the front hall. I was fuming as I stormed into the sitting room where I grabbed a book and pretended to read, refusing to discuss this any further.
Later that night I noticed Edgar looking at me with a strange fascination. His eyes kept darting to my face but then quickly glancing away before I looked at him. Biting my nails as we sat on the leather couch in the library, listening to Pavarotti, I thought about nothing but the cat. Its fur was strange and its eyes were so cooling and smart. I wondered if there was something Edgar had known about the cat, something that had been destined, but that he didn’t want me to know.
Edgar dropped his book into his lap with an abrupt slap. He yawned, “I think it’s about time to go to bed.”
My mind was still swimming and my forehead was tied in a bundle of frustration and residual anger. Edgar leaned into my neck, brushing his nose along my jaw as everything began to detangle. I shied away, refusing to let go of my anger, pushing away his effective attempts to make me forget about what had happened.
“You could use the rest.” Without a warning he scooped me up off the couch and I gave in like a rag doll.
It wasn’t so bad being treated this way and it was certainly nice to be so lazy. As he walked toward the stairs I began to think about Sam.
“How is Sam an angel?” My eyes scanned Edgar’s smooth chin and face.
Edgar looked down at me with a soft smile, “He was human once, in the sixties.” He paused, “I was there when he died.” He sighed.
“But then how did he become a Guardian angel?” My mind was swimming. Typically, humans just died and that was it, the end, or at least that’s what I’d thought.
He was still looking at me as he navigated the stairs. “He was shot, in New York,” he paused as we crested the top step, turning into my room. “He jumped in front of a bullet, saved a girl he hardly knew and then as he slowly died, he killed the perpetrator.”
My eyes grew with deep interest, “So that’s how he got the job then huh?”
Edgar smiled, “Yep, self-sacrifice. Hell of an interview, wasn’t it?”
I gave him a grave nod. “So that’s what he’ll do for the rest of eternity?” I asked.
Edgar nodded, “That’s why he’s a good friend. He will be here as long as we will. It’s comforting to know that.” He pushed back the covers and slid me inside before removing his own shoes and getting in beside me.
I sighed as Edgar continued.
“But he’s the best and I need the best to keep you safe.” I felt his hand slide under the covers toward me and I froze. His fingers grazed my hip and he pulled me toward him, wrapping his arms around my stomach. I drew in a careful breath, relishing the rare closeness. He put his head next to my ear, “You are my whole world Elle, and I would do anything to protect that,” he whispered.
I turned my head and he put his hand on my cheek, his other hand twisting my whole body to face him. He brushed the hair from my face before pressing his lips against mine. Breathing hard, I put a hand on his chest and felt his heart race. His lips coiled into a smile against my lips but he didn’t pull back like usual. He ran his fingers into my hair, forcefully grabbing it as his muscles flexed. His hand grazed my tummy and I giggled, opening my eyes to look at him.
He curled his mouth around my bottom lip. “You’re worth keeping alive,” he whispered, his breath like milk and honey.
I brushed my fingers across his cheek, feeling his velvety skin flex under my touch. His eyes scanned mine; their sapphire blue was deep and calm. I looked into the glittering facets, searching deep down for my soul, but before I found it, he closed his eyes and kissed me again. His breath was shaking as he finally pulled away and though I advanced toward him, this time he held me off. I exhaled in frustration, but he just smirked at me.
With a grumble, I flipped away from him, but this time he didn’t distance himself. I felt him wrap his arms around my shoulders as he cradled me. I waited for him to pull away but as his breathing slowed into measured deep draws, I realized he was asleep. I smiled, finding myself finally victorious.
HERE KITTY, KITTY…
“Okay Elle, open your eyes,” I had forgotten Edgar was blindfolding me. The touch of his warm hands on my face was clouding my mind.
Slowly, I opened my eyes to a room of fledgling plants. “Oh, Edgar!” I gasped.
I noticed the room was a new addition to the library. Every wall, including the ceiling, was molded of a crystal green glass with rusty iron grids. My gaze fell to the six large tables propped up on the gravel floor. Each table housed what appeared to be different varieties of plant buds in various pots and planters. I looked to the back of the room where, to my rebellious delight, he’d installed a door. For a brief vindictive moment I thought of my escape until noticing there was a little note attached to the glass in Edgar’s writing,
Don’t even think about it…
I frowned but then turned and looked at Edgar.
The look on his face was full of happiness as he watched me, “I had a little trouble getting things started. It’s not the easiest thing to handle something so delicate when you’re a life ending brute like me,” his grin turned awkward at the thought. “Everything is probably dead.”
Running into his arms, a sharp exhale was thrust from my lungs as my cheek hit his rock hard chest. “Oh I love it!” I shrieked, “Besides, I can fix anything you managed to kill already.”
He laughed, wincing
at my shrill voice on his sensitive ears, “I hope so, because those purple clovers you left behind in the cabin were impossible to plant.”
I turned back on the room where I spotted the gnarled blooms by the far left table.
His voice crept up behind me, his mouth right next to my ear, “I figured after the incident last week that if I was trapping you here, it was unfair of me to keep you from your second love.”
Twisting my head to face him, my eyes gave him a playful glare, “Who says they’re my second love?”
Edgar’s mouth coiled into a cunningly gorgeous grin.
I smiled as he kissed me on the forehead, my grasp holding him there before he finally won the battle and backed away, his eyes blue enough to make even the sky jealous.
“So now you have your greenhouse and I have my library, Merry Christmas Elle.” His voice was smug as he glanced at me over his nose.
I folded my arms across my chest in defeat.
Edgar winked at me before turning and leaving the room. I looked back toward my fledgling plants as excitement filled my dimming soul. The mid-winter sun streamed in through the glass, touching each box with the perfect light.
I looked through the blue-green glass to the meadow with a guarded eye. There were still no signs of Matthew and my body filled with more anxiety at every passing minute. In the last week the white cat continued to pop up in my peripherals, but every time I looked at the movement straight on, nothing was there. Whatever it was, it was fast.
Isabelle and Henry flew into the room where they landed on the edge of a box close to the glass. Isabelle’s head was tilted toward the field and I smirked at her. Being in this house gave her an invisibly unfair advantage on hunting. As a hawk, she has no need to use doors so she simply flies in and out as she pleases, wall or no wall. Henry snapped at her as they both fought over something in the field.
She lightly clicked her tongue, fanning her wings in irritation and ducking her head to pounce. Her eyes quickly gazed at me and I gave her a reproachful glare. She ignored my threat as she looked back to the field, releasing her grip on the table with a sudden burst of energy and lunging through the glass before Henry even had a chance to react.
I watched as she fanned herself with poise and agility across the snow, snatching up a frantic field mouse that was helplessly trying to tread through the drifts. I winced as my heart went out to the fragile life now hanging in her iron grasp. Henry dodged at her in his attempt to steal the meal, but she shot skyward and out of my view. Shaking my head, I looked back to my plants, trying not to think about Isabelle’s lunch.
As I walked down the aisles, the delicate buds leaned toward me. I reached out and touched one as it began to flourish to full size like a film stuck in fast-forward. The beautiful sunflower that now loomed before me made my soul flutter and I felt the adrenaline in my blood pumping hard. Edgar had left me surprised, it was hard for me to tell exactly what he’d planted and so with each bud I found a new secret gift.
There was a pot of dirt in the corner where a small bud reached toward a trellis that climbed the wall. I approached with curiosity as I scanned the ceiling in thought, imagining what I would hope it to be. I knelt down beside the pot and put my face right up next to the bud. I shut my eyes and blew on the tiny leaves as my breath of life tickled the air around it. Like igniting a fire, there was a series of delicate snapping noises and I stood up, my eyes still shut as the sounds crackled overhead and filled the room with noise like popping popcorn.
There was a sudden burst of fragrance as I finally opened my eyes, my nose tickling with a delightfully sweet scent. I looked at the ceiling as the purple clematis burst over half the greenhouse, creating the perfect canopy for my partial sun plants to find shade.
Content, I gazed skyward as I suddenly heard Edgar’s light seductive laugh. Startled, I shot my eyes toward the door where I found his perfect body leaning against the frame, his arms crossed against his chest and his angelic face plastered with a sly grin.
I suddenly frowned, noticing that he was wearing his large wool coat.
He snorted at my sulking face, “Just for a little bit ok?”
I stamped my foot like a two year old and he laughed, leaning away from the door and stepping down into the greenhouse. He walked down from the door and wrapped me in his arms. His large limbs engulfed me as I rested my head against his robust chest, like rocks against my cheek.
“But I didn’t give you your Christmas present yet,” my voice was muffled by his coat.
He pulled me away, “You weren’t supposed to get me anything, remember? I hope you didn’t go outside for this.” He eyed me with caution.
Laughing, I shook my head, “Yeah right, you’ve hardly given me a moment to look out the window, let alone sneak outside.”
He gave me an approving smile, “That’s true. So then, what did you manage to find?”
The sly smile on my face was sharp, “Well, I was going through all the things in my room and I found something. It looked like something I always meant to give you, of course, who knows why you need it. I know it’s not for me at least, and besides, it was already engraved.”
I pulled a brown box out from the pocket of my sweatshirt.
There was a surprised smile on his face and I was relieved, realizing he really had never seen it before. “And I thought I knew of everything in this house,” he breathed.
I stood on my toes with pride, my hands laced behind my back, “I guess not.”
Edgar opened the box with care, his large hands fumbling with the string. He fished his fingers through the strips of paper until I saw his hand freeze. A smile curled across his face as he pulled the silver timepiece from within, the chain following in dutiful succession.
“I figured that it was for you. I hate clocks but you seem to adore them.” My eyes scanned his as they began to tear up.
“I never knew,” he breathed, his voice cracking. He snapped open the cold silver and read the description inside,
Your heart is my heart, I love you.
Your Elle.
A tear finally rolled over his pearly skin as it glistened in the sun, “You had said you had something for me, but that day, you…” he paused, his eyes darkening before suddenly coming back with life, “I love it Elle. I do.” He leaned toward me and kissed me on the forehead before leaning back and dropping the timepiece into his pocket. With caution, I helped him fasten the chain to his belt, my hands grazing his stomach as he shied away, a smile curling onto his face.
Sighing, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and rested his chin on my head, “I trust that this time you’ll stay inside when I leave? Just remember, Sam is watching.” His breath fell through my hair, and I shuddered.
I smiled, looking up at him, “Yeah, I promise.”
His hands laced through my hair and he kissed the top of my head before stepping away. He winked at me as he swiftly left the room and I ran to the glass, pushing my hands against it and feeling the welcoming coolness on my hot palms. I waited as he treaded across the field, his gait still beautiful and fast, my heart beating in love.
Sighing as he disappeared into the woods, I walked back into the house. In the library, I again looked to the small arched room with deepening interest in the fascinating curio. My obsession with the painting was insatiable, their faces all telling a story and its juxtaposed mystique driving me mad.
I climbed up the new ladder Edgar had found for me after one of the rungs finally snapped. Luckily, he had been there to catch me before I cracked my head on the couch. The event wouldn’t have killed me, but it would have been an excruciating and somewhat messy accident.
I ran my hands along the books as I always had. The once dusty leather was now clean from my frequent visitations. I watched as my fingers thudded against the spines, my eyes sharp with childish interest.
My fingers hit a small dent in the stack and I halted and stepped back a few steps where I knelt down. My eyes were level with the books,
my attention on one in particular. I felt my eyes wince as the leather glittered, the gold now very noticeable and bright. All this time the dust had been hiding its beauty from me and I wondered why I hadn’t noticed it sooner.
Tilting my head, my fingers grazed across the gold stamped words of the spine but I found that it was written in Italian. I hooked my hand into the binding and pulled it from the stack as the light flashed across it, causing me to glance away for a quick reprieve. I took a deep breath before turning back, blowing a gentle breath across the cover and removing the rest of the hazy film.
Something about it spoke to me, something strange. I opened to the first page, still all Italian. There was a delicately stamped etching of a black crow in a tree that was framing the first words on the page,
Nell’inizio, il corvo era soltanto mezzo…
I read the first couple words, rolling them around in my mind but finding no translation. My eyes darted to the stamping, analyzing it with close inspection before flipping to the middle of the book. I looked at the pages in shock as I found them completely blank. Confused, I grabbed the book by its spine and flipped back through the pages until words again flashed across my eyes.
I went page to page, taking in the strange and unassuming images. Mostly, there where just ravens. Some were white and black, in large gatherings and small, but none of it made any sense to me. The images were just snippets of what the words could explain. As I turned to the next page I was shocked by the eerie images I found there.
The large imprint was unmistakable, its feline eyes dreadfully familiar. My heart rate quickened as I stared at the white cat standing openly in a field. The cats back was arched into a sly stance and its tail snaking around its feet. Its fur seemed perfect and its eyes calm and inviting but also full of information and knowing, as though the stories within belonged to it alone. I looked at the words with frustration, angry that I couldn’t translate.