The train pulled in to the outdoor station and she caught a glimpse of his tall, shadowed silhouette leaning against the platform wall. The doors slid open and a nervous flutter gripped her stomach, making her trip over the raised bumps on the platform edge. She caught herself and stumbled forward, feeling foolish as Adrian rushed over and held her arm to steady her.
“Um, hi.” She adjusted her bag and glanced up at him, at his midnight eyes consuming her as if to imprint every feature in his mind. From inside his coat he produced a single rose, its petals such a deep red it appeared almost black. She took it and felt the silky petals, breathing in the subtle scent.
“A dark rose for my dark beauty.”
Des blushed and tucked the rose into the buttons on her coat, sliding her hand into his as they walked down the stairs to the street. The sky had turned a mottled grey and a cool wind tumbled leaves down the broken sidewalk. The air was brisk but not frigid, whispering of coming rain. Des breathed in the cool air, a strange euphoric sensation filling her limbs.
The sidewalk stretched out before her, endless and full of possibility. Was this happiness? She had nearly forgotten what it felt like. She did a little twirl in the breeze, holding her coat out around her like a cape.
Adrian smiled at her exuberance. “You’re in a good mood.”
“I know, strange isn’t it?” Especially considering the start of her day. She had to attribute it to the way he made her feel every time he looked at her.
“So where are we headed?”
“I hope you don’t think I’m weird,” she said as they turned onto a dead-end street.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
She grinned at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”
The two-level brick houses with their tiny mowed yards gave way to an unlikely swatch of green and yellow leaves trailing along a thin iron fence bordering a cracked sidewalk. The fence led up to a tall gate at the end of the street, closed and rusted shut. Vines of ivy curled tender fingers along iron swirls and arrow points, framing the lush vegetation beyond. The sidewalk was covered with red and gold maple leaves that crackled under their feet. She walked past the gate to find a spot where the iron bars had been bent apart just enough to slip through.
Inside, it was hard to imagine they were still in Brooklyn. It was like stepping into another world, away from the concrete, tar and harsh smells of the city and onto soft moss, whispering leaves and ancient gravestones inscribed with faded names. Birds hopped through the branches overhead, and a lone butterfly spiraled above a toppled stone.
“This is amazing.” Adrian turned in a circle to see nothing but more trees and overgrown foliage, almost hiding their view of the bordering fence. “How did you find it?”
“Online. There are a lot of forgotten places in the city.” They fascinated her, all the beautiful buildings and spaces, once so carefully kept and now falling into wild decay, neglected and lonely amidst the busy life of the city.
“But it’s not very safe. You come here alone?”
She trailed a hand along a faded tombstone. “There’s no one here but ghosts. It’s peaceful among the dead.”
“But if someone found that hole in the fence…”
“I can take care of myself.”
He raised a questioning eyebrow and stepped closer. “Really. Even if they grabbed you like this?” He grabbed her arm and pinned it behind her back before she could blink. She reacted by twisting around and raising a knee.
“Then I would kick you like this.”
He swept a foot behind her other knee and threw her off balance before her kick went anywhere, catching her with one arm before she fell backwards. She grabbed his coat to steady herself and they both fell into the long grass, laughing.
“Ow,” she plucked the rose off her coat to find a small prick of blood where the thorns had reached her skin below her neck. Adrian brushed it off, then leaned over to plant a kiss on the spot. Des felt her heart start beating as fast as one of the little sparrows hopping through the branches and became acutely aware of how completely alone they were. His lips moved up to her neck, his tongue tracing small circles on the tender flesh. She let out a small moan before biting down on her cheek to stop herself. His hands slid under her shirt, strong and warm, and she felt like her whole body was on fire. She wrapped her arms around him, feeling the lean hard muscles of his back as he lifted her shirt and his tongue travelled to the soft skin of her stomach. She closed her eyes and tried to remember how to breathe.
A gnarled tree root was poking her in the back but she tried to ignore it. As the rough bark pressed into her skin, she could almost feel the pulse of the large oak tree above them combining with her own, slow and steady against her racing heart. She felt like she was being tugged out of her skin and into its ancient limbs, reaching upward to touch the sky.
Lightbringer.
An ethereal voice whispered through the air, as if the sky itself was speaking. She opened her eyes with a start.
“Did you hear that?”
Adrian paused, his lips still warm on her skin. Instead of the voice again, a strange high-pitched cry echoed through the trees. It began as a long warbling call and ended with an unearthly screech.
“What on earth!” Des sat up on her elbows, rolling Adrian to the side. He groaned and ran a hand over his face.
“That sounds like a screech owl,” he said.
Des stared at him. “An owl?”
“Did you think it was a ghost?”
She scowled at him. “That’s insane.” The owl must have been what she heard the first time, not a person’s voice. She brushed leaves off her shirt and looked down at the oak roots beneath her, gingerly laying a hand on one to see if the strange feeling came back. It felt like a regular tree, hard and inert beneath her palm. She noticed a small white and brown feather on the ground and looked up at the trees for the owl, then realized it must have fallen out of her belt. The thought of the feather Layla had given her brought back the events of this morning and she frowned.
“Does that feather displease you?” He had propped himself up on one elbow, watching her.
She shook her head and tucked the feather away. “I was thinking about school.”
“Hmm, isn’t that where you should be right now?” He reached over to remove a few leaves that had become tangled in her hair.
“I sort of had a fight with my friends.”
“The same friends you ditched last night?”
“I did not, they left me! For good, apparently.”
His brows knotted in concern as she sat up in agitation, the anger and frustration all coming back.
“I don’t even know what I did to them. I mean Rachel can be mean, but not like that, not to me. How could she just cast me aside?”
“Maybe she’s jealous.”
“Of me?”
He shrugged. “Maybe she needs you around more than you need her, and that makes her feel powerless. Some people want to always be in control. They also like to punish things that aren’t like them.”
“But we were always alike.” She twirled her pentagram necklace. Weren’t they?
“People change.” He pulled a small hanging pendant out from under his shirt and held it up for her to see. It was a miniature wolf's head carved out of a light material like bone or ivory. She ran a finger over the finely detailed form.
“That’s amazing, what is it made of?”
“Deer antler. My uncle made it. He told me, when I’m angry, look to the spirits for guidance. He says our family is part of the Wolf Clan, and its spirit guides us.”
“Does it work?”
He smiled. “Not always. He’s a real believer in the old Lenape ways, but that didn’t filter down so much to us. My mom used to tell him to stop filling our heads with nonsense.”
“You’re Native American?”
“Yeah, I’m like a quarter Lenape on my mom’s side. The rest is mostly Welsh and German, a little French, basically a E
uropean mutt.”
“Me too.” Des said. “I mean the mutt part. Polish and Lithuanian, a little bit of the Ukraine.”
He tugged the wolf necklace over his head and leaned over to place it over hers, the carved figure resting above her collarbone. She could see the edge of his tattoo as he shifted, the sharp outlines of an animal claw gripping his shoulder. “I want you to have it. I want it to protect and guide you.”
Des looked down at the necklace and shook her head. “I couldn’t, your uncle made it for you!” She moved her hands to take it off again, but he rested his hand over hers.
“He won’t mind. It’s mine to give.”
Des bit her lip, humbled by the gift. “Thank you,” she mumbled, feeling the ridges of the carving in her fingers. It still felt warm from resting against his skin.
“You would like his place,” Adrian said as he adjusted the leather cord holding it. “It’s upstate, way out in the country, like this but miles and miles of it.” His fingers lingered against her neck as he spoke, tracing a line down her collarbone. She shivered at the sensation and leaned towards him, when a loud and tinny song filled the air between them. Adrian cursed and yanked his phone out of his pocket.
“Dude,” he said into the phone, “I’m busy.” He paused as he listened. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.”
“Sorry,” he said as he put the phone away. “My brother.”
“You sound like you get along great,” she laughed.
Adrian grimaced. “He’s a real pain sometimes.”
A raindrop dripped through the leaves overhead and landed on his cheek. Des reached to brush it off and looked up to see the sky darkening with clouds.
“We should probably go,” she said. She didn’t mind the rain, and would have stayed there with him all night if she let her body take control, but her mind was hesitant. He rose to his feet with a sigh and pulled her up next to him, straightening her shirt and disheveled hair. Her thoughts ran wild as she stood close to him, breathing in his scent.
“Maybe we should stay,” she exhaled, sliding her hands up his back, feeling his muscles tense.
He held her face in his hands and kissed her gently, making her limbs tremble and her body melt against him. After a moment he pulled away.
“We have all the time in the world,” he said, “it doesn’t have to be today.”
She liked the sound of that, and she liked the solid way he gripped her hand in hers as they left the cemetery, the rain misting down against her face as she raised it to the sky to breathe in the clean earthy scent. The mist shrouded the round globe light of the train station in an ethereal glow as the sky darkened around them. She wanted to spend every waking minute that she could with him, and every dreaming one too. Although she couldn’t bring him home with her, she hoped he would show up in her dreams and make them pleasant for once.
Monster Dreams
Heat blistered her eyelids as Des squinted against the orange glare of the city flickering before her. She stood on the edge of the Brooklyn bridge, the heavy soles of her boots gripping the metal precariously and her coat tails swirling around her in the nuclear wind. She gripped the heavy cables as she watched the flames reach their hungry fingers up the sides of a thousand buildings, empty windows peering at her like hollow eyes in silent agony. The heat was rising and shimmering like an undulating red sea in the sky, filled with bright sparks winking in and out like fireflies.
“That’s quite a nightmare.”
Des jumped and turned to see Adrian standing next to her, staring at the flames through a pair of dark sunglasses. She smiled and slid her hand into his, relieved that she wasn’t alone. But there was a third presence nearby. She could feel the slow beat of enormous wings and hear the faint rasp of claws against metal.
“Are you here to save me?” she whispered.
“If you want to be saved.” He looked at her through his sunglasses and she could see her pale face reflected in them. Her eyes shone too brightly, as if they were filled with the fire.
The fire is within.
A deep and rumbling voice crept inside her head and resonated in her bones. Adrian didn’t seem to hear it, but suddenly bent over, clutching his side. He lifted a hand to find it covered in blood.
“Adrian!” she cried.
There was a sudden sweep of scorching air, and the beat of the wings became deafening. An enormous shadow descended over the bridge and she watched in amazement as a ferocious dragon the color of the flames descended from above.
Ruby red scales undulated along its long serpent-like body and a long barbed tail whipped back and forth as it hovered before them, its impressive expanse of leathery wings slowly adjusting to the air currents. Seven writhing heads sprang forth from its body, each filled with ivory fangs.
Its middle head focused on her with iridescent reptilian eyes, the right one a clear blue and the left one a golden yellow. It extended an obsidian claw towards her, razor sharp and as long as her forearm. Des stood frozen in horror, unable to look away. The creature was terrifying but also viciously beautiful, much like the fire consuming the city behind it. Its scales glowed with soft halos of light from the nearby plumes of fire.
“This is just a dream,” she whispered. “You’re not real.”
Deep laughter echoed in her head and the dragon bared its gleaming teeth in what appeared to be a grin.
Is it?
“Adrian,” she reached for his hand again, but he was no longer there, only a small pool of blood remained where he had been standing. Des gasped, drawing scorching air into her lungs.
“Where is he?” she cried out. “What have you done?”
The dragon drew closer until its head was level with hers and reached its claws up to her face as if to cradle her chin. The sharp points pricked her skin, and she noticed they had streaks of blood on them.
Don’t worry, its voice surrounded her and made her dizzy. It’s not your blood.
Des jolted awake to find her cat Misery licking her face and giving her gentle nips with her teeth. She buried her face in the cat's fur and blinked at the shards of early morning light trying to creep around her heavy suede curtains as she fumbled for the clock. The numbers flickered at 6:06, becoming all zeros then all sixes before going dark. She banged it against the edge of the bed, but it refused to cooperate. So much for pleasant dreams, she thought bitterly.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” Her mother’s cheery voice filled the room as she pushed open the door and went to the window, sliding the curtains apart. Des held up her arm against the bright light flooding the room.
“Mom, are you trying to blind me?”
“The sunlight is good for you. It’s always so dark and dreary in here.”
“I like the dark.”
Her mother let out a small sigh. “Don’t be so gloomy. Hey,” she paused, “are you home tonight? I thought we could have a Sabbath dinner.”
Des blinked at her over Misery’s head, absently wiping imaginary blood from her lip. “Since when did you get all religious?”
“We used to have Sabbath all the time, I thought maybe…”
“Yeah, when Dad was here.”
Her mother crossed her arms then uncrossed them to smooth down her skirt. She stared out the window for a moment, closing her eyes against the light.
“Fine.” She finally said, turning to the door. “Make sure you eat some breakfast before school.”
Des shrank back into her covers. She didn’t mean to upset her mother, but sometimes her words just came out that way. Why was she bringing up things her dad used to do anyway?
Des rubbed at her eyes. She had more important things to worry about, like fiery monsters in her head, and how she was going to make it through school today. She wasn’t sure which one was worse. Only the promise of seeing Adrian again convinced her to get out of bed.
Misery had jumped onto the cold wooden floor and peered at her from behind her boots, chewing busily on one of the laces.
“Thanks
, Misery.” Des extracted the long laces from her teeth and trudged to the closet to find something to wear. Armor would be good, she thought, as she picked out a black top decorated with silvery skulls. Her jewelry was piled on her dresser, but the wolf necklace was still around her neck.
Des pulled her knee-high boots over black jeans and started lacing them up. Misery jumped up on her dresser as she got ready. The cat swatted a paw at a vase filled with old dried roses, scattering the fragile petals onto the floor and onto the dusty bass guitar sitting in the corner. Des sighed. “Guess I didn’t need those anyway.”
She left the petals where they were and grabbed her coat, slipping into its light woolen comfort. If she couldn’t wear armor, her coat was the next best thing. It was light enough to contour her body, but warm enough to keep out at least some of the morning chill. Its long black vintage tails swung around her like a cape, its deep pockets jingling with thin silver chains. Her mom had helped her add little touches like the red satin ribbons laced across the back. She fitted the skull clasps together and gave Misery a scratch behind the ears.
A clear fall day greeted her as she stepped out the door, the few trees lining the street dropping their leaves like burnt orange offerings. The separate houses on her block with their tiny yards gave way to brick apartment buildings at the corner, the early morning sun reflecting off their myriad windows as if giant flaming eyes peered down on her. She thought of her dream and shivered, hurrying past on her way to her own personal hell called high school.
Shirley’s Doubt
Shirley heard her daughter stomp down the stairs, the light jingle of jewelry chiming in time with her footsteps. She appeared in the kitchen doorway, boots half laced and her coat tails trailing crookedly.
Shirley needed to reach out and straighten the high collar and untangle the medieval style ribbons criss-crossed along the back. She wanted to wipe off some of that dark eyeliner and say something that would bring a smile to those pixie lips. But she sat at the table, gripping her coffee cup and trying to keep her own expression neutral.
Revelation (Blood of Angels Book 1) Page 4