by Kristie Cook
“He is really out there,” Reed replies. “You saw him.”
I pale as I whisper, “Yeah, I saw him.”
“And if it followed you, I will find it,” he replies with a menacing look that I know isn’t directed at me.
Panic increases my need to keep him here, so I ask, “Won’t that just release the evil soul from the body? It could then return to Hell … uh, Sheol, couldn’t it?” I try to think about what that might mean for me if its evil soul makes it back to Hell and is able to report what it has seen.
“Yes, but I have no choice. I cannot have it stalking you,” Reed answers grimly. Reed’s fingertips brush my cheek. “Evie, it is okay. There is no way a shadow man can hurt me. He is almost as weak as you are,” he says, trying to reassure me.
“Gee, thanks Reed, that makes me feel sooo much better,” I say sarcastically, and he laughs delightedly at my sullen expression.
As I frown at him, Reed’s smile turns sultry. “You are so beautiful, you make me want to forget my duty and give in to your every whim,” he says softly while his cheek grazes mine. “But, really, Evie, it is not even a challenge to dispatch the shadow man if it is around. So, I will show you to your room and you can relax while I go and take care of a few things.”
I can hardly think, let alone argue with Reed as he helps me off the counter. Then, he leads me upstairs to the room next to the one that I know to be his. He opens the door and I let out a deep sigh because it is so lovely. A beautiful wrought iron headboard graces the bed, which is covered with a snowy-white comforter and large, sumptuous pillows. Dark hardwood floors are adorned with thick, white rugs. Glass-fronted bookshelves containing art as well as books make a library of one wall. The huge bathroom attached to the room only makes the suite more splendid. It has every amenity ever conceived for a bathroom, including a spa tub with separate spa shower, heat lamps, heated towel racks, beautiful sinks with scented soaps, and bath salts.
Looking around in wonder, I whisper, “This is the nicest bathroom I’ve ever been in.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Reed says as his eyes soften. “There are towels here, and there are robes there in case you need them,” he says, opening doors to the linen closets. We return to the bedroom, and Reed shows me the cabinet that houses the TV and the mini bar.
Trying to delay Reed’s departure, I say, “You don’t have to go now. We could watch some TV.”
Reed smiles and pulls me into his arms. Kissing the top of my head, he says, “I will be fine, Evie. Relax.”
His assurance does nothing to relieve the panic rushing through me. I wrap my arms around the back of his neck while standing on my tiptoes. Touching my lips to his, it is like tinder; all of the passion I’ve been holding back since I saw him at the field slowly emerges and catches fire. I’m not sure of how long we were locked in each other’s arms, but Reed groans before he gently pulls away from me.
Opening my eyes, I whisper in his ear, “Now you have incentive to be careful.”
“No, now I have incentive to kill him quickly,” Reed whispers back, then the wind stirs my hair, and without my seeing him leave, he is gone.
***
Relax … I think as I lounge in the huge bathtub in the beautiful bathroom. I unbraid my hair and wash it before lying back to soak in the tub. I should be enjoying this, but I’m not; I’m worrying about Reed. I give up trying to relax and use my toe to push down the lever to engage the drain. Wrapping myself in a large, silk robe I find in the closet, I walk into the bedroom.
The room is warm—balmy from an Indian summer. I push back the wispy, white curtains at the window next to the bed and open it, letting a soft breeze dance over my skin. As I gaze at the autumn moon, I think of Reed out there alone—casting his swift, predatory shadow from above while hunting an even darker prey. Turning away from the window, I search for a distraction—maybe some TV would help. Locating the remote, I switch it on and sit on the bed, but I can’t focus. I just keep waiting to feel fluttering in my stomach to alert me that Reed has returned. Lying back against the pillows of the bed, I close my eyes to see if that will help me feel him.
I must’ve fallen asleep because when my eyes open, the first sign of dawn’s light comes shining through the long, white curtains. I stir in the big bed, feeling fluttering in my stomach. My eyes search for Reed, finding him just inside the door, leaning against the wall, watching me with a strange look on his face. Smiling sleepily at him, I sit up, rubbing my eyes, but when I pull my hand back from my face, a shower of red floats past my line of sight. I look down in confusion to see what it is and discover rose petals, in the deepest shade of red, blanketing the bed.
With a half-smile, thinking it is a supremely romantic gesture, I ask Reed, “Did you do this?”
My lazy smile falters when Reed shakes his head no; it dissipates completely when I read his grim expression. Pulling back the blanket, I try not to disturb the petals as I get out of bed. Tightening the belt on my borrowed robe, I walk to where Reed is standing statue-still. From the vantage point by the doorway, it’s clear that the roses haven’t been arranged haphazardly; rather, they’re strewn in an intricate pattern. It’s as if a cold draft is blowing across my skin as I easily recognize the shape of a circle and infinity sign entwined.
My voice is tight as I again ask, “You didn’t do this?” He shakes his head slowly, still staring at the bed. “If you didn’t do this, then who?” I ask him, hoping he has an answer. Using his index finger, he points up and my heart begins beating wildly in my chest. “Someone was here—another angel?” I ask.
“Yes,” Reed affirms grimly, and all of the hair rises on my arms. “It was probably a Reaper angel or a Virtue angel … they’re duty isn’t to kill, that’s what Power angels do.”
“Are you a Power angel?” I ask him.
“I am,” Reed nods. Then, in a deadly calm voice, Reed asks, “What haven’t you told me, Evie?”
My mouth goes dry, “Um, what do you mean?’ I hedge.
“What don’t I know about you?” he asks in the same voice.
“Let me think?” I say, looking up, “Well, I told you I was having nightmares, right?” I ask.
“You did. Can you connect them in any way to this symbol?” he asks.
“Sort of …” I say tentatively, while seeing his jaw tighten.
“Explain,” he says in a low tone.
“Um, well … that symbol you see there—on the bed—it’s always in my dream.”
His eyes narrow. “How so?” he asks calmly.
“Uh, well, in my dream, there is this necklace with this symbol on it—circle and infinity—and I’m trying to hold onto it.”
“A necklace? Have you seen it before? Is it yours?” he asks me in rapid-fire succession.
“Yeah, I’ve seen it recently,” I say sheepishly.
“Where?” he asks me, looking truly grim now as if he knows the answer to his question.
“On Russell,” I murmur.
Reed grows very pale as all emotion flees from his face. Quickly, I rush into an explanation regarding what Russell had told me about his necklace, Russell’s Paradox, and how his family treated it like a joke.
When I finish, Reed asks stiffly, “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
Unease rattles through me like a penny rolling down a staircase. “I didn’t know it was important—what do you think it means?” I ask him worriedly.
Reed frowns, but only says, “You should get dressed. I brought some of your clothes back from your room.” With a gesture of his hand, he indicates the bag that had been dropped just outside the bedroom door. Then, he is gone.
I retrieve my clothing from the hall and think about Reed’s reaction to the roses left on the bed. He seems more upset about it than I am. Maybe it’s because I’m more immune to the symbol, since I’ve been dreaming it for months; but the pain that I saw in his eyes worries me. He must think that he knows what it means, and he isn’t completely thrilled about it.
After I change, fix my hair, and brush my teeth, I put my hockey uniform back in the bag. Finding the wastepaper basket, I manage to pick up all of the petals before I make the bed, and then I head downstairs in search of my angel. I find Reed in the kitchen, sitting at the table waiting for me. He rises, pulling out a chair for me to sit in. After seating himself, he passes me a tray of French toast. I serve myself as he pours me a glass of orange juice. I study his face to see if his mood has lightened at all. It hasn’t; he can hardly look at me. That’s a bad sign …
Unwilling to dive right in on theories, I ask in a sanguine tone, “How did it go last night?”
He doesn’t look at me as he replies, “Badly, I didn’t find it.”
“You didn’t see the shadow man?” I ask, needing to verify what I think he means.
“No sign of it. I checked the campus too, just to make sure it was not lurking somewhere nearby,” he says, pushing his food around on his plate.
“That’s a good thing, right?” I ask, putting my hand on his gently.
He pulls his hand back from mine to grasp his glass of juice, but he doesn’t drink it, he just holds the glass rigidly. Alarm bells go off in my head. He’s really upset.
Sighing, I ask, “Okay, what do you think it means?”
He is still for a while, and I think he isn’t going to answer me, but then he says in a quiet tone, “I think it means that you are meant for Russell.”
“What!” I explode at him; utterly in shock at the conclusion he has come to. “How did you get that from a bed of rose petals?”
Reed’s lips turn down grimly, before he explains, “You said Russell wears those symbols around his neck, the circle and the infinity. They are symbolic of him. Roses are a symbol of love, and they were strewn all over you,” he says almost resentful. “If you look at it another way, it could be seen like this: the circle to represent Russell’s Paradox, a vicious circle. But what if you are the paradox that belongs to Russell … for infinity, which is eternity. His necklace would really be saying Russell and Evie for eternity … and so would the bed of roses.” His jaw is so tight now that I doubt that he is capable of saying another word.
“You’re wrong—I know you are because I wouldn’t feel this way about you if I was meant to be with him. I crave you. I burn for you,” I say as honestly as I can, even when sharing such emotion with him is embarrassing. I want to make him see that his theory is off somehow.
Reed’s expression darkens. “It is probably a survival trait. Angels will be attracted to you so that we don’t actually destroy you,” he replies in disgust.
“You don’t know that, since I’ve never met another angel, and that still doesn’t explain why I’m attracted to you. The symbol may be about Russell, I’ll give you that, but the rose thing is a stretch,” I reason with him, hoping I can make him see that he’s jumping to conclusions.
Still not looking at me, Reed says, “Finish your breakfast, Evie.”
“I am finished,” I reply, trying to keep the desperation from my voice. He’s being ridiculous, but he obviously believes what he’s saying.
The drive back to campus is a quiet one filled with tension and brooding stares. When we arrive at my dormitory, Reed parks the car in the back. Turning toward Reed to kiss him goodbye, he stares straight ahead and won’t look at me. I gaze out of the windshield ahead of me. The beautiful, dense maple trees that edged the lot are just beginning to change color from green to vibrant oranges and reds.
“Don’t do this, Reed, you’re wrong … I can feel it,” I say, and my voice sounds pleading, even to me.
Reed’s voice is flat as he says, “I will still protect you, that will never change, but we should not … we cannot … I cannot be your love,” he finishes and he sounds resolved. He believes that I’m intended for Russell and he’ll obey what is ordained for me.
“You can’t be serious,” I say numbly, just above a whisper. “I can’t go through this without you. I love you.”
“Don’t love me. I’m not for you,” he says harshly, gripping the wheel tensely.
“It’s too late. I already do love you and I can’t stop,” I reply sadly with tears filling my eyes.
Reed still won’t look at me as he says, “You will recover as will I. We should avoid each other’s company for a while. I will be nearby if you need me, if the Fallen should come, but given our attraction, it would be best if we do not socialize with one another for a while. It will help us get over each other.”
“I don’t want to get over you,” I whisper.
“You don’t have a choice—I cannot love you,” Reed replies vehemently.
“But, I can’t be with Russell. I can’t be with anyone because I want you. I need you,” I say, trying to rest my hand on his cheek to get him to look at me.
Reed stops me before I can touch him by gently pushing my hand away from him. Color floods my cheeks as I realize that I have resorted to throwing myself at him. I feel shattered and broken inside.
“I see,” I say, understanding that he wants me to leave now. “You don’t have to bother being my bodyguard. Thanks for your help. I guess I’ll take it from here.”
I push my way out of his car. With my world crumbling, I stumble toward my room with tear-blinded eyes. I want to disappear from his sight before I fall apart. I manage to hold back every tear until I make it to my room; that is the only victory over my misery that I’ll have for a long, long while.
CHAPTER 16 - FORMAL
I rarely come out of my room for the next few days, so I miss all of my classes. Buns and Brownie almost tear the hinges off my door to make me talk to them. I try to explain to them the reasons for my depressed state—why I can’t get out of bed, but it only gets worse when I realize that I have to withhold almost everything from them. I can’t tell them about the shadow man, or angels, or the fact that I’m not a normal person. I can’t tell them that I’m much more than human, or that I’m afraid to go home because I might lure something eerily inhuman home with me. They don’t know that Russell is my soul mate, or that Reed is an angel, or that my life is now one giant question mark.
After an entire box of tissues and incoherent, broken words, all that I can think to tell them is the silly clichÉ that my boyfriend dumped me. Even without knowing all of my reasons, they somehow seem to understand that I’m really hurting, and they want to help me. The girls postpone the theft of the Delt composite; under the circumstances, they know I can’t go through with it. They spend all of their free time trying to get me to do the essentials, like showering, eating, and going to class. After a few days, I get over my self-helplessness and begin taking care of myself again, and although it’s sort of mechanical, at least I’m making it to my classes.
Hockey practice is the worst, however, because I have to go to the field each night and ignore the fact that Reed is so close. The intense butterflies cause mayhem on my insides, but I can’t talk to him. When I try, he brushes me off like I’m some sort of pathetic, reject ex-girlfriend. He hardly responds to anything I say, and that’s if he gives me a chance to say anything at all, because mostly, he just walks away from me.
I realize quickly that I have to accept his decision because I can’t stalk him, no matter how much I want to. I’m trying every day to accept the fact that I’ve lost him. He was being honest when he said he wouldn’t be my love. He will not.
I know he’s around though, still watching over me, but it’s from afar. I feel him nearby now and then, especially at night. Sometimes, when I’m lying in bed, I feel fluttering in my stomach, and I know he’s checking on me. Maybe he is worried about me, since I have a feeling my heart isn’t singing anymore.
Freddie goes out of his way to try to cheer me up. He meets me outside of some of my classes and studies with me in our special spot in the library. I give him the same story, that Reed dumped me, and he doesn’t question me about it. I can tell he somehow knows that there is more to the story. We still sit at our table f
or meals, and I never notice if anyone else is around or not.
Contemplating a particularly runny bowl of oatmeal, while sitting next to Freddie, I look up when the chair next to mine is pulled out and occupied by a very large human. Russell is also eyeing my spoon, seeing the oatmeal drip off of it like soup.
“Yer not gonna eat that, are ya, Red?” he asks, wrinkling his nose. I stiffen in my chair. The last thing I want is the reason that I got dumped to come and sit down next to me. “Ya look like hell. Are ya okay?” he asks in a low tone, and I feel surprise and irritation at seeing concern in his brown eyes.
“Haven’t you heard? I probably am from Hell; well, half of me is anyway,” I mumble without much emotion. I see the look that Russell gives Freddie; it’s that guy mind reading thing again. “I’m awesome, Russell, thanks.” I snap, hoping that will be enough reassurance to make him feel his obligation to me is fulfilled and he can just go away.
“Ya don’t look awesome,” Russell observes. “Ya look like ya haven’t slept in weeks … and I saw yer last hockey game. Ya stunk, Red.”
“We still won,” I say dully.
“I’m surprised ya noticed. It looked to me like ya couldn’t have cared less,” he states matter-of-factly. “And that’s not like ya.”
I shrug. “Russell, I’m fine, and I’m sure that you have much better things to do than to eat breakfast with me. Look, there’s Mason, maybe you two can find some computer hardware to go beat on,” I say with sarcasm as I point to the table where Mason is sitting, watching us. “I’ll see you later, Freddie.” I say, getting up from the table.
Russell catches up to me in the hallway outside and walks along next to me until I stop and face him. “What?” I bark.
“That’s it, Red, get mad. That’s the girl I know. I don’t know the other girl who walks around like a ghost,” he says angrily, “The girl who has given up everythin’ that was ever important to her just ‘cuz her boyfriend dumped her.”
“You know nothing!” I retort angrily, “And you’re one to talk. You haven’t even spoken to me since that night at the Delt House. Or, is this how you gloat? Well, go for it, Russell, enjoy it!”