by Carol Oates
“Say something, someone,” she urged. Her eyebrows came together in a grimace.
“You,” Brie murmured at the boy in accusation.
He stood defiant, his brown eyes narrowed to slits. “It’s good to see you, Ambriel.”
Ambriel? Candra couldn’t recall Brie ever being called by that name.
The girl released Brie as she stepped into the room and closed the door gently while Brie placed the cups on the tray at the end of the bed. One of the cups teetered on edge for a brief moment before she managed to settle it with her shaking hand, all the while never taking her wide eyes from the boy. He remained frozen.
A breathing work of art: beautiful. Candra gulped, swallowing that thought, and blushed. The heat rose high in her cheeks, and she was grateful no one was paying any attention to her.
Brie took a few tentative steps closer to him, leaving them eye to eye—the same eyes.
Crazy, ridiculous, completely impossible, Candra reasoned. Brie had no other family, they only had each other. It was like some creepy movie stand-off between the bad guy and the hero, waiting to see who would draw their weapon first, and it sent the strangest vibration through her because the bad guy had been following her for weeks, or maybe even months.
“You healed her,” Brie said.
“Yes,” he replied, even though it wasn’t a question.
“You could have killed her, you kno,” Brie suddenly raged, making Candra jump for the third time in the last few minutes. “You know a curleax won’t work on—”
He cut her off with a wave of his hand, dismissing the statement. “If I didn’t try, she would have died anyway.”
Candra was about to interject and demand to know what they were they talking about. The other girl moved quietly to the bed beside her and leaned her head close.
“I actually expected this to go better. I don’t know why, considering how stubborn they both are.”
Candra’s eyes darted to her while at the same time her head leaned away, and the girl smiled at her like she was some kind of conspirator in all this.
“Who exactly are you?” Candra deadpanned with narrowed eyes, feeling her frustration about to bubble over.
The girl responded by twitching her eyebrows, which hardly answered the question. They weren’t exactly forthcoming, these strangers. The girl’s smile widened, making Candra want to look away and not look away at the same time. Just like with the boy.
“How long?” Brie asked with a shaking voice.
“Six months, give or take.”
Candra was sure she detected a break in the boy’s voice, but she couldn’t quite manage to tear her eyes away from the girl to see his expression.
“And you never came to me? You never said anything?”
“The way you did?” he retorted coldly. “It was what you wanted. Free will. My objections were secondary.”
Finally, the girl pulled her gaze away from Candra, and just like that, she was able to look away, trying to ignore that her heart was beating way too fast. Candra couldn’t follow the conversation, but she was certain Brie knew the boy. She wondered if he was an old boyfriend maybe, but quickly discounted it because he had to be at least ten years younger than Brie, if not more. Brie had been with Candra’s father twelve years ago, and she hadn’t had any boyfriends since then, at least to Candra’s knowledge. The girl was leaning on the tray at the end of the bed now, watching them with her face cupped in her dainty hands. She looked like she was regretting not bringing popcorn for the show.
“I did it for Payne…and his wife,” Brie offered, as some kind of explanation.
Candra raged silently in her head at Brie for explaining anything to this guy.
“And their child,” he added, one eyebrow rose sharply, and Brie flinched, as if she had been struck. “They broke the law!”
Candra bristled. No way was she going to allow anyone to accuse her father and mother of breaking the law—especially some random guy who looked like he’d just gotten out of reform school, all shaggy blond hair and tight-jawed. She didn’t even realize she was pushing herself off the bed until she felt the girl’s hand holding her back down gently.
“Wait,” the girl murmured.
“They were in love,” Brie said. Her fists were clenched by her side, making Candra wince as she imagined Brie’s nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms. “So you knew when you used the stone?”
“It made sense. Why else would you fall? I knew it had to have something to do with Payne.”
“Did you do this to her?”
Candra felt the intense need to remind them that she was still there, but the girl’s hand was still on her shoulder, and despite the bad feeling she got from the boy, there was nothing bad from the girl. Candra didn’t feel any need to be wary of her, at all.
“No, of course not. How could you even think such a thing? I would never…you know that.” He was offended, obviously; his tough façade was beginning to falter.
Brie looked down. “Draven.” She shivered when she said the word.
“I’m not the only one who found you.”
Brie’s eyes lifted to him again; they were softer, worried. Candra couldn’t take a breath as Brie took the final step that closed the gap between them and fell into his embrace, burying her head in his chest. He, in turn, wrapped his arms around her and stroked the length of her hair with his hand.
“Oh, Sebastian, I’ve missed you so much,” Brie cried.
“Shush,” he hushed her. “I will never allow anything to hurt you, little sister.”
“Little sister?” Candra mumbled in surprise, and swiveled her head to the girl who was now beaming an almost blinding smile in their direction. So bright, Candra could have sworn she saw a golden mist roll and flutter over her back and disappear.
“Oh, goody,” the girl gushed. “Ambriel is coming home. Gabe will be pleased.”
Chapter Two
“Is he still there?”
“Yeah.”
Candra bit the inside of her lip, fighting the urge to turn around. Her friend, Ivy, peeked over her shoulder to where Sebastian was trailing them. “He is so hot,” she observed, far too enthusiastically for Candra’s liking.
Her eyes widened, horrified. “Ivy!”
Ivy simply adjusted her book bag on her shoulder and looked again. “What? He’s not my uncle, and even if he was—”
Candra cut her off with a glare, thinking it was bad enough he was following them for the twenty minute walk to the college they attended, without her best friend lusting after him. She snuck a really quick glance.
Sebastian, who was walking fifteen yards behind, keeping pace with them, winked, and Candra felt her stomach twist into a tight ball, convinced he intended to give her an ulcer. She glowered at him in frustration and turned away when his lips began to widen into a grin.
He was dressed differently today, not so much a juvenile delinquent, wearing a plain white T-shirt and faded jeans, which were frayed at the bottom where they met his sneakers, and appearing just like any young guy—appearing being the operative word.
Candra wasn’t exactly sure what Sebastian was, but she knew he wasn’t a normal guy. He was Brie’s brother, and that much was firmly established but it also meant whatever Sebastian was, Brie was too, and Candra wasn’t ready to face that yet.
“Walk faster. We’re almost there,” she insisted. She could see the number of students in the blue uniform of Saint Francis College increasing in front of them.
Ivy increased her speed a little, but it couldn’t exactly be considered rushing. She didn’t seem in any hurry to get away from Sebastian.
“So you said it was some kind of family argument?”
Candra nodded. The steps of the college entrance weren’t far.
“I thought Brie had no family.” Ivy was pulling her black hair into a knot—black, this week anyway. Ivy hadn’t found a hair color she could stick to for more than a month in the last year.
“I di
dn’t know she did. Apparently my dad was the problem; they didn’t approve of him, so she cut herself off.”
For Candra, that was enough reason not to trust Sebastian or Lofi, the girl in the hospital. But it was hard to not trust the girl with the open expression and playful nature.
For the last few days, it had been Lofi that kept Candra company while Brie’d been working away from home. Candra hadn’t been allowed back to college. “You need to rest,” she’d been told. “A lucky escape,” she’d been told. She didn’t agree and still didn’t believe what happened was an accident. Her memory was still sketchy, but she definitely remembered the woman.
They hadn’t exactly come face to face in the parking garage since Candra’s eyes were level with the woman’s more-on-display-than-necessary breasts. Candra never considered herself short—five four was average—but the woman was statuesque, and grinning at her with bright red lips.
“I’m sorry,” Candra forced out, feeling a chill on the back of her neck.
There wasn’t anyone else around. Candra wondered what were the chances in a city the size of Acheron that they would end up in the same level of the same parking garage? When she attempted to step past, Flame-hair moved to block her way.
“Are you ill, child? You look pale.”
The woman didn’t look much past twenty.
“I’m…I’m…I just…I need to go.” Candra mentally kicked herself for stuttering. She attempted to step past again, and again found Flame-hair in her direct route.
Her stomach lurched. There was something not right about the way the woman’s hair swished when she moved—it was too slow. Her long locks of hair were like flames caught up in some hi-tech movie effect, moving in a time completely at odds to everything around them. For a brief second, Candra saw something gold flicker in her brown eyes, almost like a cat’s.
“I’m sorry…I seem to have frightened you. I simply came to get my car and saw you standing here looking out. You look rather pale.” She gestured to a Porsche nearby that Candra was sure wasn’t there a few minutes ago. Its red, shiny paintwork suited the woman perfectly: the kind of car that purred instead of revved, almost an extension of the woman herself.
“Can I offer you a ride somewhere?” Flame-hair continued with a voice so cool it seemed to seep through Candra’s skin and into her bones, turning them to jelly.
“No, thank you, I’m good. I’d better be going.”
“Very wise. Never accept a ride from a stranger.” Flame-hair scrutinized Candra’s face curiously, a languid smile on her lips. “I’m Ananchel. See, there now, we’re not strangers anymore.”
Candra’s instinct was to offer a smile in return to show she wasn’t intimidated. The muscles in her face seemed to be having different ideas, refusing to co-operate in even the most basic of friendly gestures. It was as if her whole body had gone soft, and it took every ounce of strength she possessed just to say, “Thank you. I’m fine.”
Flame-hair shrugged. “Okay, another time, then.” With one last appraising glance, she turned to walk away. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, Candra.”
Candra turned from her and gasped out the breath she had been holding. The sound of Ananchel’s heels tapping rhythmically on concrete with each step halted abruptly.
“Hey, how did you know my—” Candra started to turn and demand an answer.
Her words broke off before she could finish, and the ground under her feet felt like it turned liquid, making her head swim. Tingles flooded her body, reaching into every nerve-ending, making her want to cry out, but the only sound that escaped was a low moan. Deep inside, a fire began to smolder as if a million gentle fingers were tracing lines under her skin, gently massaging up her spine and concentrating every sense on the growing tightening in the pit of her stomach.
All the time, Ananchel stood by casually watching. Candra’s eyes rolled a little, and her body swayed. She was terrified and yet couldn’t bring herself to want the feeling to end. Her heart pounded through every vein, and the muscles in her stomach tightened further.
The tightness spread through every part of her body as her breathing escalated, making her toes curl inside her shoes. Her head fell backward a little. She was totally unable to fight against the sensations rocketing through her body, and everything was growing darker by the second until she eventually shut her eyes against it. Suddenly the smoldering burst into a fire that threatened to consume her whole, and she cried out before her knees went weak, the fire now seeping outward from the center of her body in slow pulsing waves. Candra stumbled awkwardly, falling forward and tumbling into blackness while Ananchel turned to walk away, her stilettos clicking on the concrete floor.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Huh? Yeah,” Candra mumbled, feeling heat rise in her cheeks at the memory.
Ivy scowled watching her closely. “Oh yeah? Then what was I saying?”
“Something about your latest hot guy,” Candra offered with an embarrassed grimace.
Ivy mashed her lips together in a flat line, letting Candra know she had guessed wrong. “Close, but no cigar. It was something about your hot guy.”
“My…” Candra’s eyes automatically found Sebastian, who had come to a stop and was leaning casually against a lamppost across the street, his ankles crossed and a smug expression firmly in place.
“He is not mine,” Candra finished sternly.
“Good. You won’t mind if I take a shot then.”
“What?” Candra gasped, appalled.
Ivy’s lips slowly spread into a mischievous grin, and then she laughed. “I knew it.”
Candra was about to protest, vigorously, that she didn’t want Ivy near Sebastian because she didn’t trust him, when a familiar figure stopped them in their tracks.
Ananchel was clad in full leather again, looking every bit as strikingly beautiful as Candra remembered. Blood rushed to her cheeks, and ice spread swiftly up her spine, making her suck in a fast breath. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when Ananchel grinned at her as if they were old friends.
“You,” Candra growled in accusation and shoved a reluctant Ivy behind her.
“Now, now. I hope you are not still upset about our last meeting.”
“Candra, what the hell?” Ivy started fighting to move, but Candra’s arm was holding her fast, using her own body as a shield to protect Ivy from whatever messed-up power Ananchel seemed to process.
Flame-hair was dangerous; Candra knew it. She glanced over to where Sebastian was standing by the post, his expression a mixture of incredulity and rage.
Sebastian’s entire body seemed to vibrate. His foot moved forward as if he was ready to launch himself across the street. But he didn’t. He froze, and his taut lips mumbled something Candra couldn’t make out. The fingers of his left hand turned in before his knuckles hit the side of his leg hard. To Candra, it appeared he was putting a great deal of effort into not interfering in the scene before him. She couldn’t figure out why he didn’t want to help them.
“Sebastian?” Candra mouthed soundlessly. Her distrust of him disintegrated—not completely, but enough that trusting Sebastian was still better than making polite conversation with a woman she was sure had tried to dispatch her a few days earlier.
To Candra’s astonishment, Sebastian didn’t make a move, not so much as a twitch in their defense. She felt her face fall in disbelief and pushed back a step, forcing Ivy to stay behind her. Her estimation of Sebastian took a further nose dive in that moment. Over Ananchel’s shoulder, Candra could see Father Patrick at the door of the school, coming out to usher stray students inside.
“Come now, Candra, I thought you and I could be friends,” Ananchel purred.
Candra turned beseechingly to Sebastian, but he was gone.
“Who in hell are you?” Ivy demanded.
“In hell?” Ananchel echoed in a puzzled tone. “What a strange question, little one.”
Father Patrick finally turned his attention t
o them. Candra supposed he was still too far away to see her dismayed expression but near enough he would hear her scream. She opened her mouth, but much to her horror, nothing came out. Instead, a rush of pleasure washed over her, making her legs give way. Unable to support her own body, she dropped.
Or at least she would have if Ivy wasn’t quick enough to catch her.
“That is not a good idea,” Lofi warned, seemingly stepping out from nowhere to block Ananchel from them.
As fast as the wave of pleasure knocked Candra over, it receded, leaving her weakened and disorientated. Clutching her stomach, she leaned heavily against Ivy for support.
“Lofi!” Ananchel greeted her, flicking her long hair over her shoulder. It was mesmerizing, shimmering and moving like roaring flames around her face.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Lofi warned her. “She’s ours.”
Lofi’s back was to Candra, and the first thing Candra noticed about her was the pink tinge was gone from Lofi’s hair. Ananchel looked around her to Candra, who was trying to straighten herself.
“Oh, I think we both know that can’t be true. Still Sebastian’s little guard dog, I see.” Ananchel’s saccharine smile verged on innocuous, making her appear even more dangerous. A sheep in wolf’s clothing.
Candra stumbled back another step, taking a deep painful breath and keeping Ivy locked beside her. Her lungs felt as if somebody had tried to pull them out through her nose. Sebastian was nowhere in sight, most of the students had gone inside, and Father Patrick was beginning to stare.
“Please, Ananchel,” Lofi started condescendingly. “Don’t insult me. You know your parlor tricks don’t work on me.”
Ananchel sighed. “Oh, well, never mind.” Her eyes flickered to Candra again, black as coal now.
Candra couldn’t swear that it wasn’t just a trick of her imagination. She gulped.
“We shall have to finish our chat another time, Candra. I detest lapdogs snapping at my ankles.”