by H. M. Ward
When I reached the front of the church, I stopped. The crucifix was gone. The altar stuff was gone. Everything that wasn’t bolted down, like the pews, had walked off. A large rose window hung high above the altar. It had more colors than a kaleidoscope. I sat down, and folded my legs under me, my gaze fixed on the round window. The air was still. I sat alone, in the hallowed space, feeling lost and helpless. Defeat was beckoning me. I slumped forward. The scrolled canvas poked me in the chest.
Reaching into my jacket, I removed the canvas. I unpeeled my jacket from my sweat soaked body, and tossed it to the floor. The chill in the night air made me feel better. Desperately wishing I could control this mess; my fingers unrolled the painting onto the floor. The canvas was small. It was much more manageable stripped from the stretchers. The thought that I’d stolen from a church, well, that hadn’t crossed my mind yet. I felt like I had a right to this painting—I needed it. I lived or died by what was in this thing. It was about me, and I had to know how I got to the point in the painting—the point where everything went wrong.
My fingers slid across the oils, as I studied the faces. The humans looked peaceful and happy. No faces jumped out at me. They were all strangers, wearing clothes not recognizable from any era. My eyes slid to the depiction of me. Anguish was washed over my face. The girl in the painting looked the same way that I felt. Confused. Lost. Alone.
Her fingers were woven tightly together with the boy’s. He would fall, if she let go. I wouldn’t let go. I wouldn’t just let him die.
Slapping the painting, I spoke to myself, “How does that make me evil?” I didn’t understand. I held the canvas closer, shaking my head. At the edge of the painting, there were small markings in gold paint. The frame had covered these before, so I couldn’t see them. I looked at them, hoping to make sense of their tiny intricate patterns, but that’s all it was—a pattern. Something that would look pretty in place of a frame.
Desperation surged through me, filling my veins. It poured out my mouth in a raw scream. I clutched my face with my hands, not knowing what to do. There was nothing there. There were no clues as to how I would become this sinister monster. When I looked at it again, I had hoped that I would have a revelation or something. But I didn’t. Nothing. There was nothing else there. My eyes searched the paint for signs of hope, direction, or anything that would help me. But there was nothing. I’d have to figure it out on my own. Alone.
Brush strokes were painted, cutting into the dark cliffs, forming little paths. All of the paths seemingly led nowhere. No wonder why all these people were stuck on the cliff. There was no way out. That summed up my new life. There was no way out. I was the only purple marked freak out there. Until I messed up, and threw this guy off a cliff. Maybe that was how I became evil? Maybe it wasn’t that I tried to save him, but that I didn’t save him. Letting him die, if I could prevent it, wasn’t something that I would do. Ever. I lowered my head in my hands. I could barely survive my regular life, and now this was hurled at me. My fingers slid over the smooth paint beneath my skin. This was my future, whether I accepted it or not.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. I was slightly shocked at the word, even as it fell out of my mouth.
A voice spoke behind me. “I’ve never heard you say that before.”
CHAPTER NINE
My fingers darted to my face wiping away the tearstains. He didn’t approach me. He stayed where he was, behind me, in the deepest shadows.
“Collin,” I said quietly, not turning to look at him, knowing he heard me. My sweat-soaked shirt clung to my body. I wanted to throw on my jacket, but the painting was hidden underneath, and I didn’t want to admit that I stole it. From a church. Oh, God. What was I doing?
Before I gave it much thought the hairs on my neck prickled. My stomach churned in response, feeling like I ate a glass sandwich. Something felt off. Turning, my eyes cut through the darkness, looking to see what was unsettling me. It was Collin. The shadows couldn’t hide the anxiety in his body. His stance was rigid, his tension echoing my own. His arms were folded over his chest, as his muscles flexed, pulling his arms tightly into his body. His hair swept across his eyes, and appeared to be damp, like mine. Did he run here? I watched his chest rise and fall slowly, as he drew in long breaths. It was only Collin.
I dismissed the feeling, thinking my brain was fried, and too paranoid to distinguish danger from craziness. I wasn’t going to throw all my friends away because of Jake. The betrayal stung, but I wouldn’t let it make me afraid of everyone. And this was typical, mysterious Collin. Showing up when I was a wreck, like he always did.
Breaking our gaze, I turned my face down, and stared at the floor. And just in time, too. The tears welled up in my eyes and overflowed. I hated crying in front of people, but after everything I’d been through, my brain finally caught up with my heart. Betrayal, fear, lust, love, and anger all swirled bitterly together.
I didn’t hear him approach. Collin sat down beside me, not saying a word until the tears slowed. Eventually, he reached into his pocket and held out his hand over my lap. As I looked up at him, he opened his palm. A silver-colored ring with a blood-red stone gleamed at me. He pressed it into my hand.
“What’s this?” I sniffled.
“Your present.” Before I could protest he said, “I’m not taking it back. I got it for you. I thought you could use it today. It’s a ruby in white gold. I heard that it’s supposed to purge the sorrow from your soul. Maybe it’s an old wives tale, but all the same, I thought you could use it today.” He smiled weakly at me, knowing he was treading in dangerous territory.
I slid the ring onto my index finger and looked at it wondering if he just made that up. “I don’t feel any different.”
He smiled, “Maybe it takes longer than two seconds.” He scooted closer. Aware of his proximity and my sweat-coated body, I felt awkward. It should have made me feel better that his skin was dewy too, but he smelled good, and I reeked. I stood up, and held out the ring in the moonlight. Could rubies really absorb sorrow? My hand touched Apryl’s pendant without thinking. If it could, even a little bit, I’d wear it.
I turned expecting to find Collin on the floor, but he stood behind me. Misjudging the distance between us, I aligned my body too close to his. I sucked in a deep breath, startled. When I looked up, we were nose to nose, almost touching, but neither of us moved. We stayed there, gazes locked. Something stirred inside of me. The sensation made my arms feel light, like they could float up to drape around Collin’s neck on their own. Wrapping my fingers in his soft hair would be so easy, but my arms remained at my sides.
A dull image washed through my mind. It felt like an old memory, dull and hazy with age. It echoed of fingers touching flesh, sliding slowly across a soft cheek. The sensation scraped my stomach softly, causing my heart to beat faster. His warm breath caressed my skin, as we stood surrounded by shattered glass. My pain melted away, flowing out of me, taking my anger and sorrow with it. There was nothing left, except me. And him.
Warmth shot through me, forcing me to breathe deeply at the unexpected response. Collin’s fingers neared my face. Hope filled me, wishing he would do what I just saw in my mind. I stood still, looking up into his eyes, too afraid to breathe. My lips parted, as I took a shallow breath, closing my eyes and slowly opening them again. The realization that I wanted the premonition to happen consumed me. I’ve never felt like that before.
There was so much emotion connected to a thought, and his presence. His hand slowed, nearing my face. It froze in the air, almost touching me. Butterflies plagued my stomach, as anticipation got the better of me. Yet when he moved again, his fingers touched only a curl, avoiding my flesh. I waited for him to slide his hand across my cheek. I waited for the sensation on my skin. Instead, he placed the stray curl behind my ear, and withdrew his hand. Disappointment surged through me, as our gaze broke. The magic of the moment shattered, and he stepped away.
What was that? My body shivered, as I tur
ned away from him, taking a few paces. I wrapped my arms around my torso, looking over my shoulder at him. His gaze looked anywhere, and everywhere—except at me. We rarely locked eyes. We never touched. And it was because this kind of thing happened. It felt like mind games, but I didn’t want to admit it was more than that.
My voice came out gravelly, “Why’d you come here, Collin?” I didn’t look at him.
“You called to me,” he said softly. “I had to come.” He turned, not knowing what to do. I bristled at his unexpected response. Something was bothering me, but I couldn’t really put my finger on it. I liked that he showed up when I needed someone, but I never knew how he did it. Or how he found me. Or why he wouldn’t touch me when he found me shattered. Most friends would at least offer a hug. But he didn’t. It felt intentional, like he avoided touching me at all cost. Suddenly the idea was intolerable.
Irritation surged through me. Not knowing how to answer I simply said, “I did not call you.”
Collin was silent for a few minutes. He seemed unsure of himself, which was strange for him. I could hear his breathing, slow and deliberate. He made a few false starts and then said, “You should go home, Ivy. Don’t come out here alone. It’s not safe.” Slowly, he turned away from me to leave.
I didn’t move. Staring blankly, tears ran down my cheeks, and a whisper fell out of my mouth, “Nothing is safe. Not anymore.”
Collin stopped and turned, looking at me. His lips parted, like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t.
I felt broken, standing before him, completely exposed. The rawness of it surged through me, making my stomach twist. My gaze avoided his eyes. The air felt thick, and the two of us stood around like we’d done something wrong, though we’d done nothing.
I couldn’t stand it. I wanted to ask, Why won’t you touch me? But I heard my voice ask, “How did you find me?”
His blue eyes held my gaze intently. His lips parted, as I waited for words. But, the only thing that I could hear was his breath escaping from his body. He broke my gaze and ran his fingers though his hair, pushing it away from his face. His skin was smooth and perfect. No scar. But, the Valefar hid it, like my mark was hidden now. Shock flooded me as I realized what I was thinking. Did I really not trust him? Is that what I think of him? No, I was paranoid. I could trust Collin.
He took a step toward me, but not as close this time. He folded his arms, holding them loosely to his chest. His voice was soft, “Ivy, you called me. You call out to me. I don’t know exactly how I know where you are, but I do. It’s like your spirit calls to me and I can’t ignore it.” My gaze fixated on his mouth as he spoke, “It doesn’t matter where I am, or what I’m doing, or who I’m with… When I hear you,” he paused, “when I hear your distress… I can’t ignore it. It’s like a siren song. I can’t resist it, Ivy. I have to come to you.”
His words penetrated my mind, slinking back into the dark spots that were becoming larger, and untrusting. My skin prickled, as my heart raced. I could feel his eyes on me, waiting for me to look at him again. But I didn’t know what to do. The desperate feeling of wanting to know, without a doubt, that he was normal drowned me. I didn’t know what insanity prompted me to do it, but I did. Taking a step towards him, I closed the gap between us.
Looking up into his face, I said, “Kiss me, Collin.” Vulnerability and doubt lined my thoughts. There was one way to prove it—a kiss. If he kissed me, I would know he was normal. Just Collin. If he didn’t, then he was something else. Fear and distrust were warring with the loyalty I felt toward him. I had to know. This was the easiest way to find out.
Collin’s face faltered. His certain stance melted, as he physically pulled back from me, hands rising, so I could see his palms. “Ivy. That’s not … a good idea.”
Fixated, I took a step toward him, watching his confident façade fade away. I could feel the lub-dub of my heart deep within me. This would tell me he was normal. I needed him to be Collin. Nothing more. Dear God, nothing more. “You wanted me once. I know you did.”
Collin slid his foot backwards, increasing the distance between us, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “Ivy now isn’t the best time. I couldn’t take advantage of you when you’re like this.” His foot slid back another step.
My gaze was locked on his unblinking blue eyes. My voice whispered, “Just one kiss.” I took another step toward him, closing the space between us.
He put his hands up in the universal symbol for stop. We didn’t touch. He broke my gaze and looked away. “I can’t. Ivy. I don’t feel like that. I’m sorry.” The answer to my question was staring me in the face. He wasn’t normal. I just didn’t want to admit it. Not yet.
“Collin,” I asked softly, “What are you?”
His blue gaze was wide, as he ran his fingers through his hair. “What does that mean?” He sounded offended and started to shift away.
I shook my head, “You know what I mean. You don’t touch me. Ever. Why not? I know you like me, but you won’t kiss me. I thought it was me, that I wouldn’t let you. All this time, I thought you were respecting my distance. But that’s not it, is it?” My heart raced in my chest. I couldn’t handle another betrayal, and not from him. Just tell me, Collin.
Smiling his boyish grin, Collin started to say, “Ivy, that’s crazy. We’re just…”
But I didn’t let him finish. Reaching up to his neck, I threaded my fingers through his hair, pulling him to me. Collin’s body went slack in my hands, as I felt him press against me. It felt heavenly, until my hands slid, and touched his skin. An icy hot surge burst into me, traveling through my hand, and into my body like a gigantic static shock. We both jerked, breaking the contact.
Shock was painted across my face, as I looked at my shaking hand, then back at Collin.
His voice was strained, “What the hell was that?” Shaking his head, eyes wide, he continued to move away from me, “That was too much. I can’t be what you need. Ivy, I’m not that guy. I’m not.” He turned away from me, walking in long strides, disappearing beyond the doors at the back of the church and into the night.
Dread filled me as I grabbed my jacket, stuffing the painting under my other arm, and sprinted in the opposite direction. I ran toward the back of the church, and up a dim stairwell. Crashing through the first door I found, I slid into the room, and pushed the door shut behind me. Collin didn’t follow. Not this time. He was gone. And it was my fault. I hadn’t meant to run him off. I just wanted to know why he wouldn’t touch me.
What the hell is wrong with me? Emotions bubbled into a frothy mix of humiliation and regret. Anger seared through all of it. Collin was one of the only friends I had left, and I screwed it up. Growling in frustration, I turned and hurled the painting at a pile of books. It rolled behind them and out of sight. Sliding my back down the wall, I lowered my butt to the floor, banging my head softly into the wooden shelves behind me. He didn’t want to touch me. The reality crashed into me with a deafening blow.
CHAPTER TEN
School dragged on. My life as a poser Martis proved to be under-whelming during the school day. No one hunted me there. At least, I didn’t think they did. I still wondered who the Seeker was, and how close she was to finding me, but no one stood out as an angelic stalker. My new life was weird, and I was having trouble with it. Learning how to survive, without exposing my secret, made me want to hurl. Putting aside all thoughts of the Martis and Valefar who wanted to kill me, I made it through the day. Somehow, I also managed to avoid the biggest mistake I’d made in years. Collin was conspicuously absent, which meant he cut, or he was avoiding me. Or both. Suck. I didn’t know how to fix it.
He ran. Like I scared him—like he couldn’t stand the thought of touching me. It was just too messed up. Not having any idea what I would say to him, I was glad he was avoiding me. And it wasn’t like I could tell him the truth, which would sound insane.
Hey Collin, I’m acting like a nut-job because a demon slave tried to rip out my soul the other nigh
t, then my best friend attacked me. I felt utterly alone, and you were there, and… well. It didn’t matter anyway. I couldn’t tell him.
The last bell rang at 2:26pm. Not wanting to go home yet, I slowed my exit, walking with Eric, lost in thought. We pressed through crowds of kids, heading toward my locker. Something told me that I should be cautious of Eric, but right now he was one of the only people I could talk to. It forced a friendship that was based on lies, which made my skin crawl. I hated lying, but I had no choice.
Our conversations got progressively more normal, as my life got stranger. I smiled at him, “I don’t know how you can stand having me as your lab partner. I’m gonna tank our grades.”