“I was thinking about Russell,” I reply, trying hard to hide what I am thinking.
“Ah, I see. You had the sad eyes again,” she says, looking at me. “He’s going to be okay, you know? He is a Seraph, which makes him tough. He’ll adjust.”
“I hope you’re right,” I say.
“I know I’m right. He’ll have to adjust or we’ll throw him to the mermaids,” Buns replies, clutching an armload of beauty products and walking toward the door. It takes me a second to close my mouth and follow her out.
When we get back to the cottage, Reed isn’t exactly pacing, but he does seem relieved to see us. “How was the spa?” Reed asks when I put my packages down on the counter in the kitchen.
“Very enlightening. Did you know that Earth is estimated to be about four point five billion-years-old and fairytale creatures exist?” I inquire, putting my hands on my hips and scanning his lovely face that could maybe pass for twenty, possibly twenty-one at the oldest if I take into account that he has a perfect physique.
“Is that right?” Reed counters as he follows me into the kitchen and wraps his arms around my waist. “So what does that mean to you?” he asks as his lips skim mine lightly, more of a caress than a kiss.
“It means you’re scary old,” I whisper, leaning into his body that feels firm and strong against mine.
“Yes,” he agrees, nuzzling my neck. “I am ancient.”
“A relic,” I tease as shivers of desire flow through me. “Old enough to know better than to get mixed up with someone like me.”
“There is no one else like you,” he replies in a low tone, and then he kisses me and whatever it was I was thinking about flies right out the window as my arms go around his neck. “Maybe we should go boarding now. I think Zephyr missed Buns while you were gone,” Reed says as he pulls back from our embrace and plants a kiss on my cheek. “Let’s go get ready,” he says, leading me back to my bedroom.
I change and meet him in the main room. Not long after, I hear the crash coming from the bedroom next to mine. Rolling my eyes at Reed, I say, “I can’t wait to wreck the bedroom with you.”
“You have no idea the amount of damage we will do. We will have to find someplace that we won’t want to return to for several years until the staff gets turned over and they forget about us,” he says, smiling down at me.
Walking through the woods, arm-in-arm with Reed, I am assailed once again by the beauty and majesty of the place. The woods feel charmed with all of its old trees and while we wind our way through them, I have no trouble believing what Buns had said earlier, that most of the creatures I believed to be mythical are real.
“Why didn’t you tell me that there are other creatures that exist beside humans?” I ask in the muffled silence of the forest.
“Because you were having a hard time with just the angel part being real, so I didn’t want to confuse the matter by laying it all out at once,” Reed replies, frowning. “Evie, I have a need to protect you that I cannot even explain to myself. I want to make sure you are ready to know about things like that before I just blurt them out.”
“Oh,” I say, thinking. “That makes sense. It’s just that, sometimes, I feel like everyone is holding out on me. Sometimes it’s nice to know about things before I run into them. Take you, for example. It may have been extremely helpful to have known you were an angel when I met you.”
“You have enough to worry about without adding to it. How many nightmares are you capable of bearing?” he asks with concern.
“I think I can handle knowing some things. I won’t know until you tell me,” I reply, trying to be logical about it.
“Many legends are created to explain the existence of divine angels or fallen angels. There are names for us in every culture in every language in this world. There are other creatures, it’s true, but angels are the deadliest. The Cherokee have several creatures that describe the Fallen. A ‘Raven Mocker’ is a demon that is said to steal a human soul and devour it so that it can gain immortality. They didn’t get it quite right, but they were close, wouldn’t you say?” he asks as we emerge from the woods and into the waning light of the late afternoon sun.
“Why did they call it a Raven Mocker?” I ask, puzzled.
“Because angels never grow old and die, so they are never food for the ravens,” he explains.
“I see, you could say that we mock a mocking bird. Now that’s ironic,” I reply.
We make it to the gondola lift and stand in line in front of a group of young girls who can’t be older than twelve or thirteen years old. They each carry their snowboards with them. They sit across from us on the gondola as we lift slowly up the slope. I sit next to Reed as he holds my hand in his. I watch the girls stare at Reed and me, giggling and whispering loudly behind their hands about how gorgeous Reed is. I duck my head and bite my lip, trying not to laugh, as Reed’s eyes grow wider at their antics. Finally, one of the more vocal girls asks us, “Are you guys models or something?”
“Uh, no,” I reply, trying to contain my laughter, so that I won’t offend her.
“Are you sure?” she asks in suspicion, giving us both a scrutinizing glare. “Because your boyfriend is even hotter than the other guy that we just rode up with on our last run.” I squeeze Reed’s hand because I love this little girl. She is hysterical.
Her friend nudges her and rolls her eyes saying, “Oh my God, Stacy.” But Stacy ignores her and continues to stare at Reed and me.
“Really? Do you think so? Because I think he is the best looking guy I ever met.” I say in a confidential tone of voice and watch as every set of eyes rivets on Reed once again.
“Are you gonna marry him?” Stacy asks me boldly, as she tears her gaze away from Reed to look at me. There is more giggling from the other girls as they continue to stare at Reed.
“Uh…” I stammer, because I am wholly unprepared to field that particular question. I glance at Reed to see that he is studying me, awaiting my answer. “Well, he hasn’t asked me to marry him, and since it’s traditionally the man’s job to ask, I’ll just have to wait and see.” I explain to them, grateful that we are nearing the top so that I won’t have to field many more awkward questions.
My new best friend turns to Reed and says, “Are you gonna ask her to marry you? Because that other guy we rode up with is really super hot. He said he was a model,” she says, and I just about die, trying to contain my laughter.
“No he didn’t, Stacy. He said he was an angel, not a model,” one of the other girls counters her friend. I freeze and out of the corner of my eye I see that Reed stills, too.
“Yeah, don’t they model that underwear or something like that?” Stacy asks her friend.
Reed stands up and scans the top of the hill. I sit where I am, hoping that these girls are wrong. Reed turns back to the girls and says, “I am going to marry her, but I need your help. I don’t want this guy up here to see her because she is so beautiful, he might try to take her away from me. Can you girls help me out?” he asks them with his sexy voice.
They all agree at once. Reed then says, “When the doors open, I want all of you to run out of the gondola and when you see the angel, I want you to run to him and scream, like he is your favorite pop star and you just have to get an autograph. Can you do that?” he asks them, and they all laugh like it is the best joke ever.
In a low tone that only I can hear, Reed says, “We get to test our new weapon. When we get to the top, wait for the girls and me to get off first, then go in the opposite direction. Run as fast as you can. Don’t go back to the cottage. I don’t know if we were followed or if this is random,” he shoves his phone in the front pocket of my boarding pants, and then he pulls me to him in a bone-crushing hug while kissing my forehead. “Find a safe place to hide and I’ll find you. Do you understand?” he asks, pulling me away from his body so that he can look in my eyes.
“What about you?” I ask, because he is going to be the one left holding the bag. What if this is
an ambush and I’m leaving him to die?
“Evie, you will follow orders, do you understand?” he utters in a low tone again, this time he sounds like the Reed I had first met, the coolly polite, detached Reed.
“Yes,” I reply, dying inside because I have put him in danger again, just by existing.
We reach the summit and enter the gondola house. “Here we go ladies, show me this hot model you saw,” Reed says, casting one last grim glance in my direction as he leads the way off the lift. I exit not long after them, walking in the opposite direction. I can’t help the fleeting look over my shoulder to see if I can see anything happening. Reed is watching the girls as they run toward someone. Turning in the opposite direction from them, I am poised to run when I notice someone directly in front of me.
“Excuse me,” I say absently, keeping my head down to avoid being seen. I try to step around the person blocking me so that I can rocket off the summit and be gone before anyone sees me, but as I take a step to evade the person in front of me, the young woman counters so that she remains directly in my escape route.
A feeling of dread registers in me as I glance up at a very chicly clad female figure ahead of me. I have never seen an angel quite like this one before now. I realize that this angel must be a Power, like Reed had described to me. Although she is definitely female, she looks like she can tear down the sun with her bare hands. Her hair is dark and short, almost pixie-like in style, which is probably convenient when battling the Fallen because it doesn’t give them anything to grab on to in a fight. She is as tall as Reed, and although she is beautiful, with flawless skin, hazel eyes that have a jewel-like quality to them, and a face that has a perfect sort of symmetry to it, there is an androgyny about her. It probably stems from the fact that she is built strictly as a warrior, and the purpose of being so minimizes her femininity, or it’s the derisive look on her face that makes her completely lethal looking. Goose bumps rise on my arms when she whispers breathlessly, “Nephilim.”
CHAPTER 5
Evasion
There is only one way I’m going to be able to avoid this Amazonian Power angel, I think as she stares down at me like I am her mortal enemy. I have to wait for my moment, I reason. A bead of sweat slides down the side of my face. Only an eighth of a second elapses, but it feels like an eternity is spent gazing up into her eyes that are probably debating my weakest points and killing scenarios.
All of my senses come to life in that moment. I know what an antelope feels while it is staring into the eyes of a lioness: raw fear is pumping my heart in an ever-increasing tempo; the scent of this Power is assailing my olfactory and imprinting in my mind; and my muscles are growing taut in anticipation of flight that will trigger when a strategy can be worked out in my mind. It is all of that, mixed with my surroundings, that makes me feel disoriented.
Standing on the apex of a ski slope, I am aware that the humans around me have no idea that there is anything unusual occurring in their midst. Hearing the happy chatter and garish laugher from people enjoying an outing with their families, I understand that they are unaware of the chaos that is overtaking my world.
I think about my strategy in the fraction of a second I have been given, remembering what I have learned in field hockey about misleading my opponents. The direction of the eye can be misleading. I try to show her the direction I want her to think I’m going by glancing to her right. That direction will take me back down the hill to where we had boarded the gondola. When the girls begin to scream over my shoulder I do not hesitate for an instant. Instead, I put my head down and commit everything I have to going away from where I am looking to the opposite side of the slope. Since she is unprepared for the distraction of screaming adolescent girls, she momentarily loses her focus on me for long enough, that when she does recover, she instinctually turns in the direction I had shown her earlier with my eyes.
Instinct takes over then as I escape from the crest of the hill. There is no thought to what I am doing other than concentrating on running as fast and as efficiently as I possibly can. I make it several hundred yards before I realize that I am running straight down the backside of the hill in the open where I can be clearly seem from above. I revise my path when I see that I am parallel with a dense copse of pine trees. I cut through the first thicket that I find. It is blanketed by heavy snow that deadens the sound so that all I hear at first is the light fluttering movements of my feet and my steady breathing. Moments after I enter under the cover of branches, the loud sound of cracking and pitching comes from the trees above my head. Snow is being flung down from the branches directly behind me. I only spare the briefest of glances over my shoulder to the tops of trees I have just passed to see a figure of an angel skimming a path along the tree line above me.
The breaking of tree branches, so close, drives panic straight into my heart as I feel her all around me, coming for me. Something drops with a heavy thud behind me, but I don’t spare a glance over my shoulder to see what it is. Then a whistling sound pierces the quiet woods as something rockets past my ear and embeds itself in the tree just on my right. It is the branch of another tree that had been stripped off and used as a spear in an attempt to impale me.
I whimper as my heart leaps into my throat. My wings fly out of my back, tearing my coat away and leaving it in tatters on the ground behind me. I have to make it harder for her, I think as I notice that it is growing darker to the left of me. I turn in that direction, knowing that it is darker because the trees are thicker, and therefore, harder to negotiate from above. Not only that, it cuts off her view of me so it might force her to run instead of fly or she will risk losing me.
My strategy is working well and I know it because nothing has killed me yet, that is until I hear a tree being uprooted about a hundred yards behind me. It is then hurled into other pines near me on my right. A deafening noise careens through the woods, as the enormous branches crash into several more trees, causing them to splinter and snap like an avalanche of falling wood. Huge pines are tumbling down like dominoes and I have to veer to the left sharply to avoid being smashed by the sheered off cap of one of those large trees. Fear bolts through me, causing me to increase the speed at which I flee from her. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t seen me and is only hoping to get lucky with a wild pitch because if she had seen me, that pine tree would have flattened me like road kill.
I slow my pace a little when I hear a scream behind me. It is a scream of rage and it chills me, sending shivers down my spine. Then, a feminine voice calls out over the distance that is growing more steadily with every step I take, “I WILL FIND YOU NEPHILIM, AND I WILL RIP OUT YOUR EVIL HEART!” She continues yelling her head off, but I can’t understand anymore of what she says because she is now speaking in Angel and getting further and further away as I pick up my pace again.
After that, I don’t allow myself to think of anything but the terrain ahead of me. When I need to jump over ledges and streams, I do it, never hesitating or allowing doubt or fear to intrude on my mission. I don’t know how long I have actually been running without looking over my shoulder, but it is dark when I do look back to see if she is behind me. Still hidden by a thick canopy of branches above me, I slow to take stock of my surroundings. I faintly hear the engines of cars somewhere ahead of me, maybe a few miles away. If I shadow the road, there could be a place to hide out for a while. I could get a clear read on where I am and then call Reed to extract me—if he is okay. That last thought sends a wave of nausea through me. He has to be okay or it is over for me.
Pushing myself to keep going, I follow the sound of the cars to a snow covered two-lane road. I don’t leave the cover of the trees, but trudge along, following the tree line near the road. The cold is beginning to register with me now, and I hug my arms to my body, trying to retain some body heat. My skin is thicker now so it’s keeping the worst of the frigid air from sending me into hypothermia, but it doesn’t feel pleasant to be out here without my coat, which had been ripped apart and left
behind me.
Glowing lights ahead indicate the existence of a town so I stay hidden in the trees until I near it. I have to make a decision whether to risk leaving the woods to find a place to hide, or stay where I am and follow the woods further. The trembling of my hands makes the decision for me. I have to find shelter soon to warm up, and I need to find out where I am so that I can contact Reed. I cautiously leave the shelter of the trees, scanning and mapping every living thing around me. Staying well back from the road, I travel to the town’s limits and read the sign that welcomes me to Ames, Home of the Happy Folk and the 1994 State Champion Lumberjack Team. Normally, that would have made me smile, but under the circumstances, I’m just numb.
Right before I near the first streetlight overhead, I become aware that my wings are still out so I pause in my tracks to debate what to do next. I have to get them to go back in somehow, before someone in Ames sees me and alerts the media. Anxiety is not going to make this easy on me. I’m so worried about what has happened back on the hill with Reed and the other angel that I can hardly breathe. Pulling his phone from my front pocket, I notice immediately that it’s not on. It must have shut itself off at some point in my escape. I depress the power button and the screen brightly illuminates my face as the display indicates that there are 33 missed calls.
As I scroll through the missed calls, there are several made from my cell phone. Maybe Reed went back to the cottage and retrieved my phone to call me. There are several from Buns’s and Zephyr’s phones, too. They have been trying to get in touch with me for hours now. I check the time; it is almost nine o’clock, which means I have been running through the forest for at least four hours.
They must be insanely worried, I think, immediately dialing my number and hitting send. It is answered on the first ring, “Evie?” Reed asks, and his voice sounds different. It is his voice, but it has an edge to it that I recognize as the voice that I had first heard when I woke up after Alfred almost killed me.
Intuition: The Premonition Series Page 9