by C. J. Valles
And that’s when I realize what’s happening. This is a dream. It has to be a dream. I’m going to wake up, because what I’m seeing can’t be reality. When I laugh, it’s strangled and unnatural sounding.
“Wren? Are you all right?” Alex asks as the car flies out of the parking lot at full speed.
I look over at his uncharacteristically nervous expression.
“If this is a dream, then yeah.”
He frowns and returns his eyes to the road. Moments later, he takes a sharp right onto the coast highway. His cell phone buzzes, but he ignores it, which is good since he’s driving like a crazy person.
“Alex?”
He looks over at me.
“Am I going to wake up strapped to a bed and whacked out on Thorazine in some mental hospital?”
He laughs, but it’s in a surprised, humorless sort of way.
“How do you even know what Thorazine is?”
“My mom works in a hospital,” I whisper blankly.
My heart thuds. What wouldn’t I give to see her right now? Tears spring to my eyes.
“Wren, I’ve made a number of mistakes—things you may hate me for very soon—but I will not let anything hurt you. I swear it.”
“You’re really scaring me. If I haven’t gone completely crazy, then what the hell is going—”
His hand shoots out, gripping my arm as the car swerves. The last thing I see as I’m thrown sideways into the door is several figures standing in the middle of the darkened highway.
19: Transported
At the sound of voices, I open my eyes, and dizziness rolls through me in waves. The first thing I want to do is throw up. But at least I’m lying on a cool surface, which sort of helps with the nausea.
“She’s awake.”
Summoning the very last thing I can remember—spinning out of control on a blackened highway—I panic. Where’s Alex? Am I in the hospital? With every last shred of strength in me, I push myself up and see tile floor beneath my hands. I rise shakily into a standing position. At first glance, it looks like I’m in an unfurnished Mediterranean villa, not a hospital, but I don’t take the time to study my surroundings too closely. Barefoot, I run full speed across the room before colliding with a hard surface. The force of impact almost knocks me to the floor until an arm grips mine. When I look up into the glowing green eyes of the angel from my dream, I scream.
“Undo this. Now,” he snarls.
Hearing him speak, I immediately stop screaming. His fury is not directed at me, but at someone behind me. I swing around when I hear Alex’s voice.
“Do you truly believe that’s our best strategy with a potential legion coming for her?” he asks the furious angel I just smacked into.
Running over to Alex, I throw myself into his arms as I try to piece together what happened. I reach up and touch his face.
“What happened? Are you okay? How did we get here? What’s he doing here?” I gasp unevenly.
Alex strokes my cheek gently, and suddenly I feel a vibration of pure hatred licking at the edges of my consciousness as if it’s barely being contained. I shiver as I realize that it’s emanating from the flawless being watching us from across the room. I swallow. The fact that I can pull anything from his mind without any eye contact scares me.
“You said you would keep her safe,” the stranger says venomously to Alex. “A week later, an entire army descends, and you were oblivious—”
“As were you,” Alex snaps.
“Know this. If anything had happened to her, I would have gladly sent you back to hell.”
I step between them, afraid they’re going to get into a fistfight—and I’m never going to get any answers.
“Hey! Either you guys are both crazy, or I’m having this little hallucination in a mental hospital. Which is it?”
“Wren, there are a lot of things I haven’t told you about myself, but I’ve put you in danger—”
The golden-haired angel grunts.
“Finally, a grain of truth.”
Alex smirks and puts his hands on my shoulders. I glance at the stranger and feel the same tremor of absolute loathing—like a physical presence—directed at Alex.
“There are some friends waiting in the other room,” Alex says. “They will take you somewhere until I can make sure you’re safe—”
“What? No! I’m not going anywhere with strangers. Now, one of you—I don’t care which one—is going to tell me what’s going on …”
Someone glides into the room, and I stare blatantly at her otherworldly beauty.
“You’re going to have to make it a quick story,” she says to Alex and the stranger, who looks like he could be this girl’s beautiful brother or cousin. “More of them are coming—and we don’t have the numbers to hold them off.”
When yet another person walks in, I flinch. If I had thought Alex was the only godlike creature roaming Southern California, I was so wrong. Broader than Alex and the angel, this newcomer has hands that look capable of crushing skulls. And his copper eyes are just as fierce.
“Ever, let us take her. We won’t let anything happen to her,” he says.
Ever. The name echoes in my head, causing my eyes to dart to the tall golden-haired angel. I have a gnawing sense that I should know who he is, but I don’t.
“I’m going with Alex,” I say, staring at the three strangers and Alex in determination. “If things are as bad as they seem—and I’m not crazy—then someone can explain it later, if I’m not dead.”
The same sickened expression hits Alex and his golden-haired opponent, like I physically struck them both at the same time. When Alex’s arm tightens around my shoulders, the angel steps forward menacingly.
“I will not let you take her again,” he hisses at Alex.
He reaches out with incredible speed and grabs my wrist, causing my skin to burn at his touch. Instantly terrified that I’m about to be pulled apart by the two of them, I push back, my fury overwhelming me and pouring outward. And just like that, both of them release me. The three strangers are staring at me like I’ve just sprouted a second head. Alex, on the other hand, is gloating.
“Interesting trick she’s picked up, is it not?”
“Who are you people? What’s happening to me?” I demand.
“Go now,” the girl says with an edge to her voice.
I grab Alex’s hand.
“We go together or not at all,” I warn.
The smile I’m used to returns to his face.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The tall, angelic stranger steps forward.
“I’m coming with you, and we travel as fast as humanly possible. If we shift, they’ll lock onto our trail, find us again, and we’ll be forced to shift until she’s too weak to move. … Of course, you’ve done that before, so perhaps that’s your plan?” he asks Alex accusingly.
I look back and forth between Alex and the stranger. They’re both insane. And I want to scream until someone tells me what this nightmare is that I’ve just woken into. But Alex is already hurrying me out of the room and down an expansive hallway. Opening another door, he steps ahead of me and offers his hand as the lights flicker on. I look behind me and see that we’re not alone.
The stranger’s eyes stay on me until I turn and step into an enormous subterranean garage with a startling number of vehicles. Alex walks quickly with me in tow toward the most militaristic-looking of the transportation options. When he wrenches open the passenger door and lifts me into the seat, I crane my neck and see a motorcycle behind us, the rider already revving the bike’s engine.
As the steel door ahead begins to rise, the ground quakes as the monster we’re riding in powers forward. A minute later we come out on a darkened road before passing through a wrought-iron gate. When we reach the highway again, I sit silently for several minutes trying to come to grips with how far my life has spun away from reality. Assuming this isn’t a dream or a psychotic episode, then I’m guessing there’s
a lot more at stake than just me.
“Alex?”
He looks over at me.
“All those people back at the dance … what happened to them?”
“I imagine they’re having a better time than we are right now.”
The tightness in my chest loosens a bit.
“Then … they’re okay?”
He nods.
“What was wrong with them?” I ask, shivering as I remember the blackness of their eyes.
“Someone was using them to find you.”
This stops me cold.
“Using them? To find me? What? Why?”
“That is a very long story.”
Reality hits me starkly in the chest.
“Wait. So this past week—meeting you wasn’t an accident, was it? Of course! I’m such an idiot!”
How could I have thought that some flawless, well-read, muscles-like-stone super-man just appeared out of nowhere to rescue me from thugs and trade opinions on Ivanhoe? I wish it didn’t hurt so much to learn that the only person to show any interest in me this week had ulterior motives, but it does. This—well, not something this crazy—was the reason I was so afraid to feel anything for Alex. And I was right. I feel tears stinging my eyes when Alex suddenly grabs my hand. I want to wrench free, but his grip is like iron. I turn to face him, less angry with him for lying to me, than with myself for falling for it. Right after considering myself to be so skeptical and impervious.
“Wren, this past week with you, I stole it from someone else, and I don’t regret it for a moment. Whatever happens to me, it was worth it just to have you look at me with fresh eyes.”
I frown, even more confused. Then, I’m momentarily distracted by a glowing green freeway sign. We’re on the 405.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Care to be a little more specific?”
“It’s better if you don’t know.”
“Alex, no offense, but if I hadn’t just seen an entire dance zombified, I’d be ready to jump out of this vehicle.”
I glance at the speedometer, which reads over a hundred and thirty miles an hour.
“Whoa! Slow down! You’re going to kill us!” I yelp. Looking behind us, I see the beam of a single headlight right behind us. “Are you both out of your minds?!”
The vehicle swerves, and I’m pressed into the door as we fly off the next exit. Gripping the armrest in terror, I begin to wonder if these people really are crazy. Like cult crazy. I look over at Alex. I don’t remember him mentioning taking a spaceship to Heaven or anything like that. The vehicle slows suddenly, and I look around. We’re parked in front of the same airport I flew into a week ago. My door jerks open, and before I can protest, Mr. Golden-Haired Angel grips me around the waist and pulls me onto the sidewalk. That’s when I see the black motorcycle parked just behind us. Alex, who’s already on my other side, grabs my hand and propels me forward so that I’m safely wedged between the two of them. That, or I’m being kidnapped, and I should scream. I haven’t ruled out that option yet.
“Hey! You can’t leave those vehicles there!”
Over my shoulder, I get a glimpse of a police officer stepping out of his car and waving, a furious expression on his face. Ever gestures to Alex, who disengages from my side and approaches the officer with his hands raised in a conciliatory way. When Alex rejoins us a few moments later, I crane my neck and watch as the cop gets back into the cruiser.
“What just happened?”
Neither of them says a word as we walk in lockstep past the ticketing counter toward the gates. As we approach the security checkpoint, Alex goes ahead, and I stare as he begins speaking quickly and quietly to the agent, whose expression has gone blank. Ever ushers me past them, and I look up at him fearfully.
“What are you people?” I mutter.
My tall escort looks down on me with such misery that I almost feel bad for him, and it occurs to me that I know nothing about these people with whom I’m entrusting my life—including Alex. But based on what I saw at the dance, which seems like a million years ago now, I have no choice.
Alex rejoins us, and I notice people glancing nervously in our direction. I look down, remembering my hastily torn dress. Then I look over at Alex. Dressed in a suit, he looks like a super-spy. Our shadow is dressed the most normally in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. In spite of my torn dress and tear-stained cheeks, I doubt I stand out against the two of them. Actually, with every passing second, they seem more and more surreal to me. By himself, Alex was remarkable but still somewhat normal. Now that I’ve seen three more beings whose beauty rivals his, my assumption that he was ordinary—in any way at all—seems plain nuts. As the two of them usher me toward a door requiring a keypad code, I shy away.
“What are we doing?” I whisper urgently to Alex.
“Catching a flight,” he says with characteristic dryness.
I turn and watch as Ever reaches for the metal doorknob. I’m expecting him to be unsuccessful, but the door opens easily under his touch. When he walks through, Alex gestures for me to follow. Looking over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of a half dozen police officers and security agents just before Alex shuts the door after us. Ever holds his hand toward the door, and my eyes widen as the metal seams of the door suddenly glow a bright orange like someone just took a blowtorch to them.
“Hurry. Carry her if you have to,” Ever says to Alex.
“I can run!” I shoot back before remembering that I’m not wearing any shoes.
As we rush across the darkened tarmac, I watch nervously as jets land and take off in the distance. We should not be out here. And if I didn’t believe that there was something seriously wrong, I would have sat down in the terminal and refused to move. Up ahead, there’s a small jet in front of the hangar we’re approaching. When I see flashing lights in my peripheral vision, I turn and watch half a dozen emergency vehicles speeding in our direction. Some men who had been working on a nearby plane look over at us and begin approaching.
“Go!” Alex says to Ever. “We’ll be there shortly.”
Ever nods and takes off into the darkness faster than my eyes can track him. Suddenly Alex scoops me up and begins running so smoothly that it doesn’t feel like his feet are touching the tarmac. Within another few seconds, he’s flown up the air stairs, and when he deposits me inside the plane, I stare around the small cabin. I see no sign of our third party, and when Alex secures the door himself, I get nervous.
“Where is he?” I ask.
“Getting ready for takeoff, I imagine,” Alex smiles.
At first, I think he’s kidding. Then, with a sinking feeling, I realize he isn’t. I shake my head.
“This can’t be happening. This seriously can’t be happening.”
Alex takes my hand and leads me toward a bank of seats. I sit down and take a shuddering breath, trying to keep it together.
“Look. Really simple: I just want to know why I’m on a stolen plane with two people I barely know. That’s it.”
“Things will be very clear to you soon. You may hate me then, but it will not change the way I feel about you.”
“That does not answer my question.”
When the plane starts moving, I look out the window at the wing. My stomach somersaults as I fasten the seatbelt and look over at Alex in the seat opposite from me. Then a moment of pure terror seizes me, and my chest tightens. If this is real … I lurch forward.
“My parents! Are they okay?”
“Wren, everything is under control. They’re being looked after—”
“Under control? Looked after? What the hell does that mean?”
“No harm will come to them.”
“After what just happened to us? How can you know?”
“Because I know what’s hunting you. They’re coming for you and you alone, and they aren’t interested in a lengthy game of chess.”
Chess. I struggle against my mind’s inertia, trying to figure out w
hy this sounds so familiar. What is wrong with my brain!
“You know, if you’re trying to make me feel better, you’re not helping—”
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
“That’s crazy! Why does anybody care about me? I haven’t done anything! Who am I? I’m not important. I’m not rich. I’m nobody!”
A sob chokes off my air. My own mom doesn’t even want me.
“You have more power than you think you do.”
I hiccup and look at my hands.
“Doesn’t feel like it.”
“You have the power to captivate me,” Alex says, leaning forward.
A cracking sound causes me to yelp, and for a second I think the plane is coming apart. Then I turn and see that the door to the cockpit has slapped into the wall of the cabin with such force that it left a dent. When I turn back to Alex, he’s sitting back in his seat, smirking. With another quivering breath, I get up and head to the bathroom at the back of the plane to splash water on my face. By the time I return to my seat, there’s a cup of water and a fleece blanket waiting for me.
“What? No peanuts? Pretzels?” I smirk.
“You seem to be recovering your sense of humor.”
“Defense mechanism. It’s that or puddle onto the floor and scream myself senseless.”
He sits forward again and reaches toward me. Then he stops, looks toward the cockpit, and seems to reconsider.
“Who is he, and why does he hate you so much?” I ask curiously. “And no more, ‘I took something from him,’ or I will start screaming.”
“Ever and I have a long history—”
“What? Since preschool?” I retort.
“We’ve both done things—taken paths—that have made us unfit for your company, yet here we are, both of us desperate to prove that we’re something other than monsters. I suppose that makes us two of a kind.”