Symbiosis (Scintillate Series Book 2)

by Karen Tjebben

  Alex opened the refrigerator door. “Do you want something to drink?” he asked.

  I peeled my eyes off of the sofa. The memory of awakening there still seemed so fresh. “Yes, please.” I walked over and sat on one of the barstools at the island and propped my feet up on the iron bars of the chair. Then I set my backpack on the stool next to me so Alex couldn’t sit there. I didn’t need him touching my knee or leg.

  “Having you here reminds me of the day we met.” Alex’s voice was smooth and pleasant. “You tripped in the other room.” He slid the can of soda across the island.

  The cold can smacked into the palm of my hand. “Yeah,” I chuckled. “I thought you stared too much.”

  Alex looked down at the can as he popped the top. “I probably did.” He laughed. “You intrigued me. I wasn’t sure what to expect or how much you knew.” He shrugged, holding the can in mid-air. “You really didn’t know much at all.” He tilted his head back as he took a drink.

  “No,” I shook my head. “Nick did a great job protecting me, but he sure didn’t enlighten me.” I looked back at the sofa, thinking about how Alex and Nick had argued about what I knew and how much to tell me. “Sometimes protecting someone is giving them all the information they need. Ignorance may be bliss, but it’s also deadly.”

  “True.” Alex studied me, took a deep breath, and looked like he was about to say something, but then stopped and smiled. “I guess we should get busy,” he said. “Let’s go to the basement.”

  He left his shoes at the top of the stairs, and I did the same. I followed him into the basement. The flecked brown Berber carpet gave the basement a nice feel and caramel brown paint warmed the room. This basement was definitely a one-of-a-kind in our neighborhood. Instead of a super-sized television or theater room, weapons of all kinds hung on the walls. Knives, swords, crossbows, arrows, spears, and shields were displayed by size and time period. On the built-in bookcases, antique helmets stared at me as I gazed around the room. A few sets of armor also stood at attention in the corners of the room.

  “Wow,” I said as I turned in a slow circle in order to take in all the artifacts. “Museums would love to get their hands on this stuff.”

  “I guess that’s true.” He grabbed two coasters and placed them on a large, round table. The center support beam resembled an elaborate Greek column. A wide base with etchings carved into the wood added beauty to the base. Hand-carved images wrapped the outer edge of the table in ancient stories of peoples and battles from long ago. “We’ve always carried our most precious belongings with us. They remind of us where we came from.”

  Right away, as I looked at the designs carved on the table, Medusa, in all her fury, caught my attention. The snakes on her head were raised, and she appeared to be screaming. A man with winged shoes stood before her, holding a shield and a sword. My finger traced over the sword’s edge. “What’s his name?”

  “Perseus,” Alex said. I felt Alex’s eyes follow me as I studied the carvings on the table. “Polydectes hated Perseus, so he challenged him to kill Medusa. Polydectes thought that Perseus would fail. He believed that Medusa would kill Perseus.”

  “I see Polydectes lost that bet,” I said, and Alex nodded. I traced the carving of Perseus holding Medusa’s head in his hand. Then I noticed a winged horse sitting in the pool of blood that flowed from Medusa’s neck. “What’s with the horse?” I asked. “Where’d it come from?”

  Alex chuckled lightly. “Pegasus was born when Medusa was decapitated. She was already pregnant by Poseidon.”

  I laughed lightly. “Really? Two people spawned a flying horse?”

  “Poseidon was no person. He was a god, and Medusa was a gorgon… a monster,” Alex added with a shrug. “Remember, this is mythology. Science doesn’t apply. And even though it is mythology, there are still lessons to be learned. The morals and depiction of human nature are astounding. Even though the people may have been primitive compared to our standards, their understanding of life, jealousy, love, pride, and even self-sacrifice is impressive. I guess you could say the human experience is still profoundly evident in their stories. Maybe humans haven’t changed that much over all these millennia.”

  What about Abraham? He’d passed Sarah off as his sister in order to protect himself from Pharaoh. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice himself for love. He was selfish and cowardly. He loved himself more than he loved his wife. Nick would never sacrifice the one he loved in order to save himself. He would fight — fight to the death. Nick faced Ramel and the cerberi in order to protect me. Nick faces wickedness in order to protect those he doesn’t even know.

  “I guess that’s true,” I said. “People can be petty, jealous, and proud, but people can also be noble and self-sacrificing. Think of the people who give their service and lives for their country or help others in times of need. There are lots of people who live honest and just lives. We can always find jerks, but focusing on honorable people is much more encouraging.”

  “Yes, there are always people willing to sacrifice, people willing to make the right choice, and you are one of them,” Alex said as he walked over to the bookcase. “Maybe that’s why you see them so easily.” He smiled at me and then opened the lower cabinet door and pulled out a wide white candle and a plastic base. “We’ll start with this. You’ll start small.” The base made a soft thud as he set it on the table.

  I eyed the candle as Nick placed it in the base. A faint smell of vanilla wafted towards me. The wick was black with soot and curled oddly at the end. The clear plastic base was too big, which left a nice well for melted wax. “Do you want me to light it?” I patted my pockets. “You’ll have to give me matches. I don’t have any.” I smiled at him and wondered what exactly he wanted me to do.

  Alex shook his head. “No, lighting it isn’t the skill for today. Playing with fire is.” He pulled a matchbook out of his pocket and tossed it on the table next to the candle.

  “Uh… maybe you weren’t aware of my recent history with fire, but it can be dangerous.”

  “I’m aware of what happened at the church,” Alex stated. “Nick filled me in.” He tore a match from the matchbook. “If you’re too afraid, I’ll do it.” He smirked as he struck the match across the rough striking surface, and a tiny flame came to life.

  “I’m not afraid.” Why would I be afraid of a candle? “It was a joke.”

  He held the flickering match towards me. “Take it. Light the candle.”

  I grabbed the match and held it to the wick. It sputtered and then caught hold. I blew out the match as the heat from the flame neared my fingers. “Now what?” I shrugged and dropped the match into the plastic base around the candle.

  Alex took my hand in both of his. I instantly grew nervous. Usually a candlelit room is romantic. I wasn’t sure where this was headed. “Do you feel my warmth?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I said. I hoped my hands weren’t sweating because I was definitely getting hotter by the second. I felt my body reacting to his touch, and he didn’t need any encouragement from me, whether intentional or unintentional, in the ‘Pursuing Kate Department’.

  “You need to think about the warmth in your hand… think of it as energy.” His fingers tightened around my hand. Sweat broke out along my neck, armpits, and palms. “You can pull and pulse that energy. That’s how you threw the Dolum off of you the other day.”

  “Really? I used my energy? It felt more like an explosion.”

  “It was an explosion of your energy. Now you need to learn how to channel it.”

  It hadn’t felt like my energy. It felt like it had come from somewhere deep inside me. Somewhere that had been locked up and never accessed before. Sure, I’d been mad before, but never like this. That sensation of overwhelming power in the woods with the Dolum had been a first. “Okay,” I agreed.

  Alex stepped behind me as he aligned my fingers with the candle and turned my palm face down. “Now focus on the flame and imagine pushing it away from you.” His breath brushe
d along my neck. “Visualize it in your mind.”

  I looked at him and felt the blood rush through my veins. He’s too close. He’s in my space.

  “Don’t look at me,” he said. “Focus on the candle.”

  The orange flame hovered in place on the wick. Wax slowly trickled down the side of the candle into the base. The aromatic scent of vanilla hung heavy in the air. I breathed deeply and darted my fingers at the flame when I exhaled. The flame flickered away from me. One side of Alex’s mouth curved up.

  “Try it again.” He looked at me through the corner of his eyes.

  Once again I exhaled and focused on moving the flame. It moved, obviously impacted by the energy I sent its way. I repeatedly practiced making the flame dance about on the wick. The power I felt as I watched the flame sway was incredible. It wasn’t the tiny flame moving that made me feel powerful. It was the realization that my powers were growing, and soon I would be able to move objects that were much heavier. I jabbed my fingers at the wick, and the flame leapt from the wick and died in the air. “This is amazing!” I cried as I looked at my hands with a new appreciation.

  “Good job!” Alex smiled as he relit the candle. He flipped my hand over so that my palm faced upwards. “Bring the flame towards you.”

  I inhaled, motioned my fingers towards myself, and envisioned the flame coming towards me. The flame flickered in my direction. “This is easy.” To the observer, it would appear that air currents were moving the flame in various directions, but I knew it was my mind. I controlled the flame. It moved in the direction that I wanted it to move.

  “It is amazing. You’re doing very well.” Alex’s fingertips tickled my neck as he brought his hands up to my scarf. “Let’s try something.”

  I held my breath, knowing he was too close, that this could get too intimate at any moment. My heart started to pound as my nervousness grew. His fingers brushed along my collarbone as he untied the scarf. His eyes connected with mine and he smiled. The scarf tugged at my hair as he gently pulled it from my neck.

  “Now try this,” he said. He placed the scarf on the table and blew out the candle. A thin line of smoke curled in the air.

  I licked my lips and focused on the scarf while trying to slow my racing heart. I envisioned the scarf floating to me and quickly moved my fingers towards myself. The scarf rose a little from the table, but then it dropped again.

  “Focus, Kate. You can do this.”

  The weight of Alex’s stare was crushing. I wanted to succeed, but the pressure was intense. I pushed Alex from my mind and focused on the scarf. I imagined it moving towards me, and with a quick flick of my fingers, the scarf rose and flew into my hand. “I did it!” I held the scarf up for Alex to see.

  His hands wrapped around my waist as he lifted me up. “I knew you could do it.”

  Warmth shot through me as our bodies pressed together. I wasn’t comfortable with this. This was too much because it was too enjoyable. It reminded me of last night’s dream when I was kissing him. “You can put me down now.” I nervously patted his shoulder.

  His fingertips grazed my waist I stepped out of his embrace. A tiny fluttering awoke inside of me, but I willed it into submission. I had to keep my head on straight. I put the scarf back on the table and then noticed him still staring at me. A pleasant smile lit his face, and there was a peace in his eyes that resembled the Alex I saw in my dreams, the Alex who traveled with Nick and Sarah. He loved her, but she was in his past. And now he hoped that I was his future.

  I focused on the scarf again. It flew to me, spreading out like a long snake. The ability to do this made me feel powerful and successful. The dreams, the bizarre events, they were all for a reason, and now I could see the meaningful purpose for my trials.

  “Fantastic!” Alex went to the bookcase and brought back a small book. He placed it on the table. “Let’s do an experiment. Try to move the book.”

  “Okay.” I stared at the book and willed my energy to push it away. The book remained in place. I motioned the book to slide towards me, but it stayed still. I even forcefully jabbed my fingers towards the book, but nothing worked.

  “You can stop.” Alex drummed his fingers on top of the book. “I wanted to see if you could move it, but it’s too heavy. You’ll have to keep practicing,” he said. “A flame was relatively easy because it had no mass. The scarf was light, so it was doable. Tonight, start with something light, like a shirt or your pillow. You can work up from there.”

  I nodded my head. “I’ll keep flexing my muscles.” I worked with the scarf a few more times, each time feeling more confident. Finally, I looked at my watch. “I should probably go. It’s almost dinner time.”

  “Of course, you did great today.”

  “Thanks,” I leaned against the edge of the table, “but I have a question. How come I had to start with the candle today, but in the woods I was able to throw the Dolum when he attacked me?”

  Alex furrowed his brow. I could tell he was thinking about his answer. If he was Nick he’d probably say, ‘There’s no telling,’ but Alex would think of some other half-truth. Eventually he said, “I don’t know for sure. Maybe it was because you were so scared and angry. Maybe you called up some strength deep within you. All I know is that I’m really glad you fought him off.” The pad of Alex’s thumb stroked my cheek. “I haven’t waited for your birth to have you killed before you even complete your transition.”

  The butterflies in my stomach fluttered at the last sentence. I took his hand and removed it from my face. His fingers gripped mine. The muscles around his eyes tightened as he studied me. His eyes stared deep into mine. The images from last night’s dream flashed through my head and a desire stirred in me. I wanted to know the feel of his lips on mine, but I wasn’t ready to cross that line. “I have to go,” I said. I pulled my hand free and headed up the stairs, two at a time. I grabbed my backpack and raced out the front door.

  Once I made it to my front porch, I paused and looked across the lawn. Alex stood at his front door, watching me. Neither of us waved. I darted into the house and closed the door behind me. What did he mean by waiting for my birth? Does he wait for every Asteri birth so he can come along and train them? Is that part of his job description, or was he waiting for me?

  8. Visions

  Flames crackled and licked at the wood as the bonfires fought off the cold night in the hectic village center. The aroma of roasting animals mixed with the smoke and wafted through the air. A pig lay on a table, its skin browned and crackled. A woman in simple clothes and a long white apron stood over the pig. She used a knife to cut away the roasted meat and then laid the tender morsels on a large plate.

  Villagers mingled in the safety of the village under a full moon. Flutes, tambourines, horns, and drums produced a music that pulsed through the air that many danced to. Molloy sat at a wooden table, on a raised platform, that overlooked the festivities. Two guardsmen flanked him, and he drank excessively from a large wooden cup. The woman in simple clothes approached Molloy and offered him the roasted pork. He nodded his head and took the plate. Molloy ripped the pork into pieces with his bare fingers and lifted them to his mouth. The meat juices ran down his hands and into his red beard.

  Nick, Alex, and Sarah watched from the woods. Pressed against the trees and hidden by darkness, the villagers were unaware of their presence. The face of the lion rested over Nick’s shoulder, and his sword hung at his side. “He is not even aware that she is gone.” Nick’s voice was full of disgust. “Some protector,” he mumbled. “Hayden could be slaughtered before Molloy would even notice that she is missing.”

  “He does not believe us,” Sarah whispered. Her bow hung at her side and her quiver and arrows hung over one shoulder. “He does not understand that they are coming for her. There is no escape.”

  “Fool,” Nick said under his breath. He continuously squeezed the pommel of his sword. “Let us get her.” Nick moved away from the tree and headed farther into the woods.


  “Nikolas, you cannot just steal her away,” Alex said, and he gripped Nick’s arm. “She may still come willingly. That would be most important. Taking her by force could be devastating.”

  “And those people,” Nick pointed towards the village. “Waiting for those monsters to come would truly be devastating. How many must die so that she can be happy with her lot?”

  Sarah stepped forward. Her hair hung loose over her zebra skin cape. “Let me speak with her. Tell her what is to come. She may listen to me.”

  Nick took in a deep breath and exhaled a plume of moisture that dissipated in the air. “Fine. You do the talking.” He pointed at Sarah. “But we must not stay much longer. Our time grows short.”

  “Agreed,” Sarah gave a subtle nod. “Our time is growing short.” She turned and snaked through the woods. Her russet skirt rustled softly against the bushes as she strode past them. She stopped short when laughter filled the night.

  A man’s voice filled the night air. “Hayden, this is far enough. They shall never find us here.”

  The trio of spies crouched behind some bushes and watched as Hayden and the man came into view. It was the same man who’d captured them and taken them before Molloy when they first arrived.

  “True,” Hayden replied. The man’s arms slipped around her waist as he pressed his chest against her back. “I do not want to explain our love to my father,” she said as she fitted her hands atop his.

  “You are too afraid of him.” He turned her around. “Your father will be angered by the deception.” He pressed his lips to hers. “The longer you wait to tell him, the angrier he will be.” The man’s hands trailed down Hayden’s back.

  Nick eyed Alex and Sarah. Sarah held her hand out to him, signaling him to stay where he was.

  Hayden placed her hands on her lover’s chest. “Sean, I love you, but I am not ready to tell my father about us. I cannot leave his home yet. He has no one except me.”