Elle caught a few snowflakes in the palms of her small hands, delighted that something so beautiful could be falling from her own ceiling. “Why?”
The voice laughed heartily. “Why aren’t I killing you? My, my, you are an inquisitive little thing, aren’t you?”
“Well, you shouldn’t wanna kill me. I didn’t do anything to you,” said Elle. She was oblivious to the true meaning behind the words.
The man released his musical laughter once more. “Let’s just say it’s what you will do in the future that will cause me anger. There’s a prophecy with your name on it.”
Elle had heard of prophecies. They were what Apollo often spoke of and what her daddy explained to her in his stories. Most of the time Matthew’s stories regarding prophecies had very dark endings. “I’m very sorry,” she sighed, already knowing that not much could be helped in regards to prophecies. She learned that much from her father. Prophecies were supposedly written long ago, back before you were born. There was no escaping something that fate designed for you.
The velvety voice laughed once more. “Gods, you’re so very amusing. Tell you what, little one,” the man said, using a wave of his hand to diminish the light from her pony nightlight. The room was now pitch black. At the same time, he used a hand to collect all the snow to make it suddenly vanish. “You caught me on a damn good day where I might have found myself feeling somewhat guilty about murdering a child. So, I’m going to give you seventeen more years of living, and if my situation hasn’t resolved itself by that time, then I’ll kill you.”
Elle found herself giggling. To her, the man was funny. He had a charming voice that sounded like a vocal substitute for velvet and honey combined. She found no fear in his threat.
“Now,” the man said, the shadows of the dark keeping him concealed, “you’ve just won seventeen more years of life. After that, all bets are off. Now, I’m going to give you a present—”
“What kind of present?” Elle interrupted excitedly. All thoughts of the man’s casual reference to killing were cast aside. How could she think of such a thing? There was a present involved!
The concealed man walked forward, placing a globe of some sort of her nightstand. “This, Evangeline Darrow, is a traveler’s globe. It looks like any regular snow globe, but this has a certain magic to it. When the city inside has snow falling when you haven’t shaken it, it means I’m close by. To anyone else, this will seem like a regular globe.”
“How does it know when you’re around?” Elle whispered, her chocolate brown eyes glued to the beautiful snow globe with a silver city inside. It was a city unlike any Elle had ever seen from pictures or movies. Tall silver and diamond skyscrapers were among the city, along with smaller diamond- and crystal-looking places that made nearly the entire city sparkle like a real diamond. Yawning, Elle climbed up onto her bed to settle herself beneath the warm covers.
“Because it was made for me centuries ago, specifically to find you,” the man said, turning to walk toward the window, not revealing any more.
“Thank you,” Elle murmured happily, taking the snow globe to toy around with the music player attached. As she twisted the device, a sweet-sounding melody began to play. The city inside the globe sparkled even more as the music softly filled the room.
A soft laughter sounded once more, where Elle barely noticed the concealed man shaking his head in amusement. “You are welcome, child. Seventeen years, Evangeline. That’s how long you have.” With that, the man disappeared within the blink of an eye, the window closing upon his magical departure. The only thing left in his wake was a few fluttering snowflakes.
Chapter Two
A jarring alarm roused the twenty-year-old Elle Darrow from her slumber; she groaned as she struggled to bury herself deeper under her pillow. There was nothing good prepared for this Tuesday. She had two part-time jobs to get to, not to mention a ten-page essay to come up with and edit for class by Friday. Even though the project was given to her a few weeks ago, Elle had majorly procrastinated. Just thinking about the project was what drove Elle to dig herself out of bed to sit up and swipe the sleep from her eyes.
“If it’s not good, you get a C,” she reminded herself, pulling out of bed before stretching. Her legs and side hurt, a repercussion of spending her time wearing roller skates for the fifties-themed diner she worked at. Elle fell over twice yesterday, courtesy of an eight year old spilling her soda all over the restaurant as she walked. Mopping a floor in roller skates was a near nightmare after that. She didn’t have a choice but to wear them while cleaning; the skates were a mandatory part of the uniform, unfortunately. The daunting thought of receiving a C as a grade was Elle’s biggest nightmare. It’s what caused her to jump out of bed. She would lose her partial scholarship if she achieved such a grade. Receiving a B-minus was no good, either, causing Elle to realize she needed to get herself together if she were to come up with a dazzling yet well-written essay to present Professor Dodger by Friday. She needed to be on her best game academically. The thought of just staying in bed and catching more than just six hours of sleep seemed more ideal than going to work if Elle were truly honest with herself.
Sometimes, Elle just wanted to sit in bed and let life pass by for the day. She was always so very busy. She didn’t have a social life in all the years since her father died. She instead morphed herself into a hard worker academically. Her time nowadays was spent either working or writing short stories or essays in a bid to win a partial scholarship to pay for the other half of her college education. Her free periods were spent helping her grandmother run her nursery garden. Even though it was January, all the plants in the greenhouses needed proper care before they would be full-grown by Mother’s Day.
Elle dressed in her hideous orange and white checkered knee-length dress and applied minimal makeup. Glancing at herself in the mirror, she felt she’d seen better days. Her big brown eyes held dark circles under them while her usually creamy-toned complexion looked pale. This was probably due to lack of sun. With it being winter, Elle hadn’t seen much of the sun anyhow. A ramification was that she now resembled a perfect walking cliché of possessing too pale of skin and too dark of eyes.
After brushing her long dark hair into submission, Elle tied it in a loose ponytail and then contemplated how busy her day was going to be. It was only seven in the morning. By eight, she had to be at Checkers & Spades for her breakfast shift, and then she had classes to get to by noon.
After three classes that would end by seven that night, she had to be back at her grandmother’s to save what was left of the new seedlings. A horrible thunderstorm that turned to ice, followed by the unseasonal snowstorm, had nearly wiped out all the good stock. If Elle and her grandparents didn’t work around the clock now to keep what was left, they’d have nothing. If there was any hope of salvaging the remaining plants, Elle had to help work to ensure their survival. It wasn’t easy. Some nights, Elle found herself using battery-operated sun lights to keep the plants warm.
“Evangeline, dear! Aiden’s here to drive you,” Grace Darrow called, causing Elle to hurry.
Swinging her backpack over her shoulder, she shoved two remaining books on her desk into her bag before she ran out the door. Elle didn’t have time to dwell over her unwritten essay just yet; there was far too much to do today. As she hurried down the stairs, Elle already knew a cup of coffee and a bagel would be handed to her no matter how much she protested she didn’t want breakfast. Her grandparents were old-fashioned farmers. They believed in having a breakfast every day or you would be off to a bad start.
Elle didn’t mind the coffee. It would calm her nerves by the time she reached her classes. The caffeine would also make her more alert. As she hurried to the foyer to find her grandmother not surprisingly waiting with a container of freshly brewed coffee and a bagel, she gave the woman a quick hug. “You don’t have to feed me every morning, Grams.”
Grace rolled her hazel eyes. “Well, someone has to take care of you, Elle. You
’re only twenty, and you work as though you’re middle aged.”
“I have to if I want to become a brilliant English professor someday,” Elle countered with a grin, allowing her grandmother to plant a kiss on her forehead. Grace’s eyes grew misty at the mere mention of such a profession. This winter, it would be eight full years since Matthew Darrow passed away from cancer. Becoming a professor was a personal tribute to him for Elle, a way to carry on his legacy. Grace came forward and captured Elle in a strong hug. Never knowing her mother, Elle was more than grateful when her loving grandparents took her in. They didn’t have to; they were struggling with a failing business and a dilapidated farmhouse. The last thing the couple really needed to do was take in a grandchild they had only met on a handful of occasions. But Thomas and Grace Darrow were goodhearted people. They took Elle in and made no fuss about doing so.
“I have no doubt you’ll make a wonderful teacher one day, Elle.” Her grandmother smiled. “Now get along. I think Aiden’s upset about something.”
Frowning, Elle nodded before hurrying out the door with her bagel and coffee in her hands. As she made her way to the sleek red sports car in her grandparents’ driveway, Elle found her best friend looked downcast as he leaned against the side of his car. Aiden Phoebus stood dressed in simple jeans and a worn cattle coat, yet he still had the ability to look like an Abercrombie & Fitch model. His golden blond hair was always in a neat display without him putting too much effort into it. Aiden possessed full pink lips, bright electric blue eyes, and a smile that could dazzle you completely. The young man belonged in commercials and magazine catalogs for the chronically good looking.
Elle had developed a small crush on Aiden in high school, but she had come to discover her feelings were pointless and unreturned. Aiden only saw her as a little sister figure. Ever since their friendship first developed eight years ago, Aiden seemed to always want to drive the point across to Elle that he looked at her as only a sister type.
Elle’s good friend Lucy offered the idea of Aiden not liking Elle because he was interested in men, but Elle knew that theory not to be true. Aiden was most definitely straight, as she discovered last year when she caught him making out with a busty brunette when they went to a dance club. He liked women; he just didn’t like Elle in a romantic sense. It wasn’t something that Elle spent too much free time dwelling on.
“What’s wrong?” Elle asked, already knowing by his stiff posture something definitely was off. Today was cloudy, looking all around like a gloomy forecast. Funnily enough, the only time Aiden seemed truly downcast in life was on cloudy and rainy days. Therefore, Elle pegged him as a lover of the sun.
“Nothing,” Aiden answered a little too quickly, opening the door for Elle before he hurried around to his own side.
“You know,” Elle began, settling herself inside the sports car before closing the door, “part of being best friends since we were twelve means I know when you lie, right?”
Aiden had always been a bad liar, even when they were children. They first met when Elle moved to warm and usually sunny South Carolina and moved in with her grandparents. Elle and Aiden had bonded right away. They both had movies and books in common along with a love for astronomy and poetry. The two of them had been practically inseparable since their first month of meeting. Elle knew Aiden better than probably anyone and vice versa. She always knew when he attempted to lie because he was really bad at it. He had too many tells; he was evasive and lacked the ability to hold eye contact when he wasn’t being honest.
Aiden said nothing as he drove down the road a little too quickly. “And yet again you forgot your seatbelt. Sometimes, I think you have a death wish,” Elle muttered, crossing her thin arms.
Aiden laughed, shaking his blond head in amusement as his eyes watched the road. “I honestly don’t remember to do it unless you’re here to scold me,” he answered, quickly pulling the belt over his chest.
As soon as he adjusted it, a satisfying click was heard as he slowed down. Silence soon took over. Enough to the point there was slight tension between them. Elle couldn’t help but wonder what he could be upset about. As far as she knew, Aiden wasn’t struggling in school. They didn’t attend the same colleges, but Elle knew he was intelligent compared to a lot of boys they had gone to school with. She had no doubt he could pass any class just fine.
Aiden finally sighed, obviously sensing Elle was growing annoyed with his long silence. “I know that you know when I lie, Ells. It’s just, sometimes there are things that go on with me that I can’t explain to even you,” he finally admitted as he pulled in front of Checkers & Spades. Elle knew she had to get out for work, but the thought of leaving her best friend alone had her determined to stay inside the car.
“Try me.” Elle shrugged.
Aiden spared her a small smile, shaking his head. “Get to work, Elle. We’ll talk later.”
Elle sat herself up a little straighter, cocking a dark brow. She stuck her hand out toward Aiden as if to introduce herself. He lifted a brow in confusion. “Hi, my name is Elle. I’m a social recluse who babysits plants in her spare time. My best friend is a twenty-one-year-old drama queen who still hasn’t realized I’m here for him no matter what.”
Aiden watched her carefully with his mesmerizing blue eyes, looking to be resisting the urge to smirk. “I don’t deserve your kindness,” he muttered, toying around with the steering wheel in front of him.
Elle frowned, not understanding that strange remark. “Seriously, what’s got you so rattled?”
Aiden turned to her with wide eyes, shaking his head. “You’re…” He paused, as if to think of the proper wording. “…twenty-one tomorrow,” he breathed, running a hand through his golden hair. “Time flew by too quickly.”
Elle giggled softly. “You’re twenty-one as well, or have you forgotten?” Aiden said nothing. His posture stiffened as he closed his eyes. Frowning once more, Elle sat up. “You’re starting to worry me.”
“Have you ever had something to say, but you had no idea how to form the words?” Aiden asked softly, his fingers gently drumming along the steering wheel before him.
“I have an essay I still don’t have a story idea for,” Elle offered sarcastically, causing Aiden to grin.
He shook his head. “Not school, Evangeline. Serious. Something so very serious, you didn’t know how the person you care about was going to take it?”
Elle watched her friend carefully, not quite sure what to make of his strange attitude. This wasn’t like Aiden to be so serious. He spent most of his time joking or laughing, and his serious occasions were so very rare, Elle couldn’t actually remember the last time the two of them were genuinely serious. She rarely saw Aiden sad. Even the rare times he occasionally spoke of his parents not always being around for him, he was still upbeat and happy.
“What are you talking about?”
Aiden closed his eyes, his fingers beginning to tap on the steering wheel at a quicker pace, his silence making the tension-filled car slightly awkward. The palpable tension was only made worse by Elle’s worried gaze she wouldn’t divert away from her friend.
“I know someone who has to be in an arranged marriage,” he finally admitted, staring guiltily at the wheel before him. He wouldn’t look her in the eyes.
“And they can’t get out of it?” Elle guessed, feeling genuinely confused. Why would he seem so downcast about someone else’s arranged marriage?
“You can’t get out of something that was prearranged,” Aiden muttered, pinching the bridge between his nose. He looked gloomy, almost depressed.
“Are you saying you’re the one with the arranged marriage?” Elle guessed, wrinkling her nose. That had to be it. Why else would he look so depressed about something?
When Aiden said nothing in response, Elle’s chocolate-colored eyes grew wide. He couldn’t be serious. He was a twenty-one-year-old farm boy from Connecticut. Not that Elle was actually in the loop of how arranged marriages worked, but didn’t they usual
ly occur in the Middle East or something?
Elle wracked her brain. She was remembering the two times she had met Aiden’s mother, Laura. She was a kind woman with a heart-shaped face and green eyes. She worked a lot, mostly traveling due to her job. Elle never thought of the woman as someone who would force her only son to marry. Never meeting Aiden’s father, she didn’t know whether the same could be said for him. Aiden seemed to like his dad, but he claimed he was closer to his mother. Was his father forcing an arranged marriage on him? A spasm of panic flew through Elle at the very thought.
Aiden laughed softly, shaking his blond head as he saw the fear on Elle’s face. “Oh, Styx no,” he denied, shaking his head once more. Elle couldn’t help but grin at his choice of wording he used when he wanted to swear. Styx. Back when they were children, Elle discovered she and Aiden had a strong love for Greek mythology the very first year they met. When they grew into teenagers and started using profanity similar to their classmates, Aiden thought it would be a fun change to mix and match words from mythology in place of a curse word. For a while, it was a fun change. As Elle entered adulthood, she dropped the habit, but Aiden had stuck with it.
She shrugged her delicate shoulders. “Okay, so please point out where someone else’s arranged marriage is your problem?” Elle pushed, not being able to understand what Aiden was getting at. “Is it your mom’s?”
“No.”
“Your dad?”
“Gods, no, he’s already married. Hell hath no fury like his wife scorned,” he snorted.
“Lucy?” Elle pushed, growing alarmed at the thought of her other best friend going through an arranged marriage. Hadn’t she only just broken up with Kevin last week?
“It’s not Lucy,” Aiden sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Well, then, spit it out, Phoebus.” Elle scowled, growing impatient with his beating around the bush. She only called him by his odd last name when he was too slow with explaining something.
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