by C. J. Valles
“Other than stealing an entire plane from the airport, what crimes have you committed?”
Alex smiles again.
“Oh, the plane wasn’t stolen. However, we weren’t cleared for takeoff, which tends to set off the ire of the tower.”
“All right, then. What other misdeeds are you guilty of?” I say, mimicking his formal intonation.
He doesn’t smile this time.
“Too many to count.”
“Right.”
When I try to stifle a yawn, the lights go dim.
“Sleep,” Alex whispers.
A hand touches mine briefly in the darkness. Then I close my eyes and listen to the hum of the jet’s engines.
20: Around the World
I wake from the blackness of a dreamless sleep and stretch my arms over my head, yawning. I’m comfortable. Too comfortable. Suddenly my muscles tense and my eyes fly open. I’m in a very fluffy bed with white netting above me. My eyes flit around. Light-colored walls are set off by mahogany flooring. Straight ahead of me is a wide-open terrace looking out onto crystal clear water. My pulse drums in my veins.
Everything—the dance, the zombies, the airplane—it was all real.
Looking around, I don’t see any imminent danger, so I climb out of the bed. When I look down, I’m relieved to be wearing the torn evening dress, which is the last thing I remember being dressed in. Tiptoeing to the other side of the room, I discover a separate soaking tub, a large shower, and a separate toilet, all behind a bamboo partition. It looks like I’ve just woken up in a tropical hotel. Not knowing when I’ll get the chance next, I use the bathroom, and then take a washcloth from the sink, wet it, and wipe myself down.
Feeling slightly more human, I walk back into the room, which is dominated by the enormous bed. Then I continue outside onto the wooden deck. I stop when I see the green-eyed angel watching me from the far end. Looking at him, I realize with a spike of dread that he’s not human. I run out onto the soft, white sand and look around for some sign of normalcy, anything that makes sense. There isn’t any, though. Palm trees, white sand, and crystalline water are all I see. The scene could be from the cover of a travel magazine.
I just woke up in freaking Neverland. Staring out at the water, I wait for a pirate ship to float by. Or maybe a Lost Boy. I don’t see any sign of land. Looking down the shoreline, I notice a palm tree, its entire trunk reaching toward the water. When I look in the other direction, I catch sight of someone sitting on the sand. My heart leaps, and for a second, I think maybe I’m somewhere populated. Then I recognize the copper hair, and I begin running toward Alex. Breathless by the time I reach him, I sink down in the sand. His jacket, tie, and shoes from the dance are gone, and his button up shirt is rolled up, exposing the muscles in his arms.
“You know, I love a tropical getaway as much as the next girl, but—”
“I’ll have to make note of that,” he says, looking over at me.
I sigh.
“Alex, somebody is going to have to start telling me the truth, because I’m scared, and I don’t know who I can trust anymore …”
I swallow. I don’t even know if I can trust my own mind.
“I told you before—you are free to hate me, but the past week has been worth more to me than you can know,” Alex says.
I flinch as his eyes suddenly go completely black. Immediately, thoughts begin flooding like water into the missing spots in my memory, and my palm is less than a millimeter from his cheek when he catches my hand in his.
“I’m sorry, Wren.”
I stumble into a standing position, my chest heaving with desperation. Everything begins spinning, and my vision blurs. What have I done? I’ve spent the past week of my life trusting my enemy. I’ve spent the past week falling for someone I hate.
Ever.
He must despise me. I start running again—this time away from both of them. I didn’t sign on for Alex’s game. I thought I would wake up in Southern California, and that would be the end of it. Then, with a sharp stab of regret, I realize that Alex tricked me, but I fell for it. How could I not sense somewhere deep in my soul how wrong my feelings were? Was last night my karma? Or was it even last night? How much time has passed since we fled? I stop suddenly, my hands curling into fists at my sides, and scream. Then I take off at full speed and dive into the crystal clear water. Opening my eyes, I see white sand tinged blue by the water above. Ahead, there’s nothing but blue. I swim toward the sapphire nothingness until my lungs are bursting, half hoping that I’ll never have to come up for air.
I finally break the surface, gasping. I don’t know what I’m expecting. Clarity? Forgiveness for my mistakes? I get neither. When a hand touches my shoulder, I wince, because I know who it is.
“Don’t,” I whisper.
I can’t look at Ever. I don’t want to feel his touch. It just reminds me of every wrong decision I’ve made. It reminds me that I don’t deserve to feel his touch on my skin.
“Wren, how many wrongs do you think I’ve committed in the course of my existence?” He doesn’t wait for my answer, not that I have one. “Unlike you, I’ve made an infinite number of mistakes. You’ve only made decisions to protect those you care for. I will never find fault with you for your compassion.”
Turning toward him, I see that I’m up to my shoulders while he’s only waist deep. I can’t bring myself to look at him, because I’m afraid of what I might see there, even if I can’t read his thoughts.
“But I—”
When he lifts my chin with a single finger, my heart races. Seeing Ever now, without the veil of Alex’s memory suppression, is like a shockwave. He places his hands on either side of my face, and the fire spreads quickly through my entire body. One of his arms drops to my waist and lifts me to him, and I close my eyes as his lips come down on mine. His touch isn’t soft or hesitant. It’s hungry and demanding as his grip tightens. The sensations washing over me feel like they’re going to swallow me whole, and when I finally gasp for breath, Ever cradles me in his arms and carries me back to the shore. Setting me down on the soft sand, he doesn’t let go of my hands.
“I never thought so before, but a week is very a long time,” he says softly.
“Not to interrupt this made-for-TV moment—”
I spin around and glare at Alex, who is leaning against a palm tree.
“But now that you hate me again—Ever, I must thank you for insisting upon that—we have to get moving.”
“No way! Now that I have my mind back, you’re going to tell me exactly what’s going on.”
My stomach snarls suddenly, and Ever and Alex both laugh at the same time. I flush.
“Ha, ha! Laugh at the human!”
“How inconvenient, the mortal coil,” Alex says dryly.
“All right! That’s it,” I huff. “I’m going to go find some coconuts to eat while you two flip a coin to see which one of you is going to tell me what’s been going on.”
When I start walking down the beach, Ever’s arm comes around my shoulders.
“If you think for one second that I’m letting you out of my sight, you’re mistaken.”
He pulls me closer, and I smile crookedly.
“Sorry. It just feels like somebody put my life in a blender and hit liquefy. Why did I think I could fix things by disappearing?”
“It was a fair assumption.”
When we reach the structure I woke up in, Ever goes into another room and brings back a trunk full of dried goods. Nuts, dehydrated fruit, water. I sit down and begin taking out items as he settles across from me. I study him, willing him to tell me the truth when I ask my next question, and also hoping that I can survive the answer.
“Was what Alex said true? About my parents being safe? Because if he’s wrong …”
I grit my teeth and trail off, feeling unhinged at the thought of putting either one of them in danger again.
“Alistair and Persephone are with them. They won’t let anything happen.” He
pauses. “And what he told you on the plane was true. What’s coming wants you and you alone.”
I’m oddly comforted by this.
“Why, though? I’m just one person. What does it matter?”
I take a bite of dried apricot and almonds.
“Because you may very well be the last, and those beyond the divide know that.”
“The last. What does that mean?
“It means if they took you, they can use you as a wedge to open a doorway into this dimension. If we can keep them from achieving this, we have a strong chance of winning, and they will do anything to turn the tide.”
Again, I feel like a chess piece.
“So, if you had just killed me that first day—would this all be over?”
Ever winces and shakes his head.
“No. This is only the beginning.”
“But Alex … He said he intended to be on the winning side—”
“I still do intend to be on the winning side,” Alex says from the open doorway.
My eyes snap in his direction before being drawn to the sun’s rays streaming across the water behind him. The glow makes his copper hair appear as a fiery halo.
“Then why didn’t you hand me over to your body-snatching friends while you had the chance?” I snap bitterly as my eyes focus on him again.
“I thought I made that perfectly clear when we kissed.”
Ever’s suddenly standing a half-inch from him, his fists clenched at his sides.
“Afraid of a little competition?” Alex asks easily, not backing down.
When Ever’s stance relaxes, I take a deep breath.
“Wren is free to make her own decisions, and I trust she’s smart enough to see you for what you are,” Ever says. “An opportunist. A scavenger.”
“Perhaps, but we seem to have a common goal.”
Alex looks over at me, and I jump up.
“Enough! God! Can you guys lay off so we can talk about a plan that doesn’t end up with mass destruction or me being dead? First off, what exactly is coming after me? And put it in terms that will make sense, please.”
“Have you heard the bedtime story of the four horsemen of the Apocalypse?” Alex asks.
I swallow.
“I’m vaguely aware of it.”
“Start there, and let your imagination get carried away,” he says with a smirk.
“Great. Thanks. That’s very helpful.”
Ever looks at Alex wearily.
“For once, he was being neither sarcastic nor grandiose. The other side is gathering for a full-on assault, and those four and their minions are only the beginning. If you are in fact the last, then the other side will stop at nothing to acquire you.”
“But there must be more people like me. I can’t be the last,” I mutter.
Then I frown. Before I met Ever, I had sort of assumed I was the only mind-reading freak out there. I guess the idea of being the last isn’t exactly outside the realm of possibility.
“You may be the last; you may not,” Ever continues. “But you are at this point in time. Whether that changes or not, the other side cannot risk losing the opportunity to use you.”
“So, what about you?” I demand, turning to Alex. “How do I know you’re not playing some twisted game, waiting to hand me over?”
“I’ve had ample opportunity. I would have done so already, would I not?”
“He has no allegiance to anyone,” Ever says. “He betrayed both sides and is now playing for himself, waiting, I imagine, to see which side is victorious. … He was the fifth horseman, so to speak, before entering this world.”
I look over at Alex, trying to absorb the fact that I kissed him. More like made out with him. And even worse, I enjoyed it. Note to self: never get my memory erased ever again. I’m suddenly tired and overwhelmed. I feel very human.
“So, you guys are the inter-dimensional warfare experts. What happens now?”
“We run, and then we defend,” Ever says.
“What about my normal life? You know, back in reality? Whatever is left of it,” I point out weakly.
“You left it once, and I quite enjoyed the result,” Alex says.
“You know what? I’ve had enough of you—” I stop, and my eyes narrow. “And if you even dare make a comment …”
I trail off, unable to think of a reasonable threat to use against an immortal. Looking back at Ever, I wilt.
“Considering my plan failed miserably, I’m open to suggestions. … But you’d both better be right, though. My family and friends had better be safe.”
Within five minutes of my capitulation, the three of us are on a small speedboat. When I asked what was up with all the mortal transportation, he reminded me what happened after Alex shifted with me over and over: I woke up feeling like I had been smacked by a large truck. Before leaving the island—the island from my calendar that I never thought I’d see again—I traded my torn dress for a large, white T-shirt and jeans that I had to cuff several times. Alex donated his tie to use as a belt. My teeth rattle together as the boat comes down hard in the choppy water, and I wince and brace myself. When Alex wraps an arm around me, locking me down, I don’t say anything.
The water around the boat is darkening quickly as angry clouds roll toward us. In the distance, I see a lightning strike and shudder. If we don’t get to land soon, we’re going to be soaked, not that this is first on my list of concerns. At the top of my list is death by electrocution.
After several minutes of deafening wind and rough seas, the boat slows and pulls up alongside a dock that is obviously meant for larger vessels. Alex offers his hand, but Ever is already standing over us, glaring. Alex backs down, and Ever takes my hand and puts his arm around my waist. The next instant, we’re standing on the dock, and within another few steps we’ve reached a well-groomed beach. I try to move quickly, but the soft sand slows my effort. We reach grass, and I start moving faster until something sharp slices the arch of my foot. I look down at the shard of glass and the bright red blood pulsing from the cut. Before I’ve said a word, Ever kneels down in front of me and takes my foot in his hand. Instantly, the pain is gone.
I start moving again before noticing that we’re walking directly through the grounds of a posh, modern resort—and I look like I just survived a shipwreck. Passing by throngs of tourists lying on deck chairs, I keep my head down, not wanting to pick up any thoughts. We approach the main building, and Ever keeps a firm grip on my hand. The air conditioning is a shocking contrast to the muggy warmth outside. I look to the side and my heart skips a beat when I don’t see Alex. He reappears seconds later holding a gift shop bag and wearing a completely different outfit, one more appropriate for a tropical vacation.
“Decided to go shopping?”
“What can I say? When in the Maldives.”
A woman behind the counter gasps. Looking down, I realize that even though my foot is healed the remaining traces of blood are being tracked across the impeccable cream tiles of the lobby. Ever begins pulling me along faster, and when we reach the front of the hotel, he hails a taxi and opens the door for me. By the time I’ve scooted to the middle seat, Alex is already on my other side. Ever says something in a completely unfamiliar language to the driver whose eyes snap to the rearview mirror. I figure it’s a shock for him to come across a tall, blonde, golden-skinned tourist speaking his native language perfectly.
“We’re exposing her,” Alex says grimly.
Ever gives him a sideways glance but says nothing, and I suddenly feel like I’m in the middle of my parents’ divorce all over again, which is slightly hilarious considering my company. When I laugh, Ever’s mouth curls up in a half smile.
“I feel like I’m with my parents,” I smirk for Alex’s benefit.
“And I do enjoy your sense of humor, Ms. Sullivan,” he says.
But thinking of my parents causes anxiety to well in my chest again, and my smile fades. I’m across the world from them, running away from something I do
n’t even understand.
“Can I call them? Let them know I’m safe?”
I frown. What would I tell them I’m doing, though? Vacationing on the Indian Ocean?
“It’s best that no one knows where you are,” Ever says gently.
“But what if I don’t get another chance?” I whisper, trying to hold back a fresh round of tears.
“You will, Wren. I promise you.”
I see the international symbol for airport, and less than a minute later, the cab has stopped at the curb in front of the terminal. There’s a wooden sign with yellow lettering that says Departures. Beside it is more text in a language I’ve never seen. Ever takes my hand as I step out of the cab, and Alex follows after me rather than exiting on the other side. When we walk through the sliding doors, the interior of the airport is the same as other airports I’ve been in. Ticketing counters, fluorescent lighting, scuffed white-tiled floors, drop ceiling. I catch a glimpse of a sign that says Malé International Airport as we begin walking quickly through the terminal. Suddenly the ground beneath us shifts violently, catching me off balance and causing Ever and Alex to freeze.
“There.”
I look at Alex and then follow his gaze to a tourist sitting in the middle of a bank of seats. Everyone around us is screaming or diving for cover, but this man is staring at us with unusual interest. For a second, I think it’s just because of Ever and Alex’s appearance. Then my breath hitches as I notice the unnatural coal black of his eyes.
Ever’s hand is raised, and I turn in time to see a shockwave hit the man squarely in the chest. When he gasps and blinks, his eyes are suddenly ordinary and brown again.
“What’s happening—”
I stop and look in the direction that both Ever and Alex are staring, watching in fascination as the lights at the far end of the terminal begin going out row by row, and then relighting. Finally my eyes focus on the four approaching figures whose presence seems to be causing the electrical failure. Even from here, I can tell there’s something off about them.
They aren’t human.