I think I died and went to heaven. Seriously. I mean, here I was lying in Nathan’s arms in the middle of the night, running my hand across his muscular chest, marveling at how it gleamed in the moonlight. I was also enthralled by Nathan’s flesh joining with mine, melded together like a beautifully crafted sonnet. I sighed, enjoying how relaxed my body felt.
Since I felt so good, I decided this was the best time to tell Nathan all about my premonitions and how they came to me in an audio form. I explained the voice didn’t come from inside my head, it was like outside the very edge of it. It made me kind of nervous talking about it because I didn’t want him to think of me as a freak. But when he assured me he’d never think of me in that fashion, my heart completely melted. He was like the most wonderful person in the world, and the first person in my life I could truly be myself with. It also felt good to share this secret with someone, to actually talk about it, knowing I wouldn’t be ridiculed for it.
But when he asked me about my first premonition, I clammed up. I didn’t want to go there. However, I knew I’d eventually have to, so I swallowed the lump in my throat and told him. As I did so, I thought about my dad choosing to leave me and could feel the tears forming. I mean, if he really loved me he wouldn’t have left, right?
I rested my arm against my eyes to hide my tears, but Nathan must have sensed it because he leaned over me and gingerly wiped them off my face.
“I believe your father loved you very much,” he said.
That did it. I covered my face with my hands and sobbed like a little girl. Nathan gathered me in his arms, and I rolled on my side, pressing myself against him. Snot was creeping out my nose, so I went to the bathroom to clean up. I took a couple deep breaths and placed a cold washrag on my face. Afterwards, I went back into the bedroom and crawled back into bed. Before Nathan could say anything about what had just happened (so embarrassing), I told him about the last premonition I had in history class.
“It was talking about the dark spirits,” he said. “They love being in the flesh because they can partake in its desires, and it must be just right because they can’t enter just anyone. It’s warning you about them.”
“You’re right,” I replied because what he said made sense. “When I heard it, we were studying about the plague, which made me wonder if it had to do with the premonition I had.”
His soft lips touched my cheek. “I can see why.”
I thought about Matt, and how he knew all of Mr. Harrin’s questions, and how envious I was on his historical knowledge. Now I knew why. It wasn’t Matt that knew, but an ancient spirit dwelling inside him who had lived through those times.
A part of me struggled with that concept, even though I knew it to be true. Another part of me hungered for his knowledge since he knew things even our greatest historians were clueless about. I then wondered if he would hurt me, if he had the chance. Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I mean, he had numerous opportunities to do so but hadn’t.
But why was he dating Carrie?
I could try and break them up, but Carrie would see right through me, so that wasn’t an option. I grimaced at the thought Carrie was dating a dark spirit who totally scammed us, and I hated I couldn’t tell her about it. I guess I could keep a watchful eye on them, and if it came down to it, I’d confront the dark spirit, regardless of what Nathan said.
“What are you thinking?”
I didn’t want to tell him, so I decided to ask him about a thought that had been hovering around in my mind–the thought of when he became immortal and how it happened. It still boggled my mind immortality existed, and I could now become immortal.
He pulled his arm from under me and propped himself on his elbow. With his free hand, he stroked my cheeked.
“I became immortal in 1856.”
I sat up. “1856!” I quickly did the math. If he was nineteen when he became immortal, then his actual age would be– “That makes you one-hundred and seventy-five-years-old!” My shrill voice rang out.
He smiled, amused by my reaction. “That’s right.” But then his amusement ran away from his face when he saw something in my eyes that troubled him. “Does that bother you?”
He sounded concerned, so I quickly answered, “No. It trips me out. I mean, what did you do for all those years?”
He relaxed and opened his mouth to answer.
“Wait,” I blurted before he could reply. “First I want to know how you became immortal, and will it be the same for me?” I really wanted to know this and hoped it didn’t involve neck biting and drinking blood. I had a weak tolerance for blood.
We scooted down in the bed, and I settled myself back in his arms. His voice became low and distant when he spoke:
“The same cat on your doorstep came to mine. At first I didn’t think much of it because stray cats sometimes wander onto our farm, but after a while I noticed a difference in this one. He would stay in our front yard or on the porch, like a guard dog. Then I saw the strange mark on his back, like you did.”
“Did your ears start to ring like mine?”
“Yes, and to answer your earlier question, your ears ring to let you know a dark spirit is nearby, but they have to be within a certain range to trigger it.”
“How many immortals are there in this world?” I wondered if I had ever met one and hadn’t even known it.
“I’m not sure, but I know quite a few. Anwar is one of them.”
“But didn’t he help your family on the farm?” I thought about the 1800s and him living on a farm in Missouri. Back then there were slave holders. Was his family one of them?
“He did, but he wasn’t our slave. My parents didn’t believe in slavery, and they treated Anwar like another member of our family. My parents were wonderful people and so were my brothers. They would have loved you and you them.” I could hear the sadness in his voice.
“You miss them, huh?”
He stared at the ceiling, and his voice dropped to a high whisper, each word spiked with longing. “There’s not a day goes by I don’t think about them in one form or another.”
“You were lucky to have a family like that. I’ve always been envious of people like you.”
“Yes, on the one hand I was very fortunate, but on the other hand, one of the hardest things I had to do was exile myself from their lives.”
My heart sank. The thought never occurred to me if I were to become immortal I’d never see Carrie or Tree again. Just the very thought of it made me want to weep. And to think he had to do that with his family.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I said.
“My father knew, but I’ll tell you about him some other time.”
“Finish telling me about the immortal part.” I wanted to respect his space as much as he respected mine and hoped this would derail his thoughts from his family.
He went on to tell me Anwar was already immortal when he started working for them a month before the cat appeared. He had tracked down some dark spirits around their area, and as he was observing them from afar, he saw some guys beating on Nathan’s brother and saved his life. In gratitude, Nathan’s father offered him a job and a place to stay. Anwar accepted and was instantly folded into the family. I thought about the people back then, how they probably hated Nathan’s family for treating Anwar like an equal, but Nathan said they were ignorant about it. People assumed Anwar was a well-behaved slave.
He continued and said he and Anwar became good friends and spent a lot of time together. When the cat showed up, his ears began to ring, and a few nights later, Anwar explained everything to him.
“Did you believe him?” I thought about my reaction and wondered if his was the same.
He shook his head. “I thought it was a joke. I told him I didn’t believe in his superstitions or the voodoo the slaves around town talked about. So I ignored it, until one night when we were in town, a dark spirit attacked me. He caught me off guard with his strength and swiftness. The next thing I knew, he had a knife blade to my throat, but then
Anwar stepped in and yanked him off me. Anwar’s strength and agility fascinated me. When he’d cast the spirit out, I could no longer turn a deaf ear to him.”
He looked away, remembering that time in his life, and when I asked him what happened after that, he looked at me, his eyes shining in the bright moonlight.
“I had the same choice you have now, and I chose immortality because I wasn’t ready to die. And I always had this insatiable need to be something outside the perimeters of conventional thought. I never knew what it was until that night.
“A few nights later, I went to the guesthouse my father provided Anwar, and by the light of the kerosene lamps, he gave me immortality.”
I sat up and hugged the pillow. “But, how?” An image of Anwar biting his neck popped in my head, churning my stomach. I really hoped it didn’t involve blood.
He stared at me for a long moment, and I covered my mouth, knowing by the hesitant look on his face that it did. Ugh!
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to put you in suspense, but it may gross you out, so I’m just going to say it.” He took a deep breath and spoke fast. “What I’m going to tell you cannot be done to just anyone. You have to be chosen. Otherwise, it won’t work. But the chosen one has to be bled out, which is quite gruesome. Seconds after the body dies, the immortal takes his blood and introduces it to the dead human’s open wound, draining some of his own blood into it. The body then regenerates itself into immortality.”
I hugged my queasy stomach, trying not to retch at the mental visual of being bled out and how painful it would be. I lay back down and pulled my knees to my chest, swallowing against the sickness threatening to spew forth.
“Are you okay?” Nathan asked, his arm around my shoulder.
“I don’t think I can do it,” I whispered. “The blood. The pain.”
“It doesn’t hurt much.” His voice was calm and reassuring. “Honestly, I think it’s the fear of pain that makes it worse than what it really is.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I said, feeling tired all of a sudden. Everything that happened tonight was finally catching up with me, and my brain wanted to go into sleeping mode. It was like someone flipped an exhaustion switch inside me, overriding my sickness and fear.
“I’m serious. It’s not that bad, and I’m not saying so to ease your mind. It’s the truth. The whole process goes quick. Before you know it, it’ll be over.” He fell silent, and I began to drift off, but then he spoke again. “Oh, by the way. I took care of the guy.”
I turned over, alert now. “What guy?”
He looked at me like he couldn’t believe I didn’t know who he was talking about, and then it dawned on me. A rush of an anxiety shot through my veins.
“You know. The guy–”
“What did you do?” A vision of him pounding that guy to a bloody pulp entered my mind.
“I tracked him into a deserted alley. I was in a foul mood, knowing what he could do to you, and he knew your name.” He paused for a minute. “I forced him to tell me what he knew, and before I cast him out, he told me what I had told you earlier about some of them seeing a light inside you and don’t like it. He also told me the ‘old one’ holds great interest in you.”
He saw me trembling and wrapped his arms back around me. My groggy mind shifted on the premonition I had at Café Nation.
Maybe I misinterpreted it, but my life had changed dramatically since then. However, now I knew there might be a chance I could die, and who would try to kill me and why.
I really didn’t know what my premonition meant though, and at that point my brain and body were telling me they had enough. I closed my eyes and surrendered. Whatever worries and concerns I had would have to wait until tomorrow. I fell asleep in Nathan’s arms, and for the first time in my life I felt truly loved and wanted.
Beyond the Eyes: YA Paranormal Romance Page 17