by J. Meyers
“Marvels. Supernatural phenomena. Unexplained recoveries.”
Sera didn’t say anything, just shook her head at him and kept walking. Fey hid her smile.
“Isn’t that Rosie Deakins?” Sera pointed at a girl ahead of them on the next block. Rosie’s light brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. She wore jeans and a teal fleece. She was in several of Sera’s classes, someone Fey knew Sera would be friends with if she allowed herself any. “She looks down.”
Luke nodded. “Dane just asked Sylvie out.”
“And Rosie has had a thing for him this year. Oh, poor Rosie,” Sera said. “Why didn’t she ask him?”
Luke shrugged. “Probably because Dane Simmons doesn’t speak geek.”
Fey and Sera, on either side, elbowed him.
“Hey!”
“Rosie is not a geek!” Sera said.
“I’m just saying, if the pocket-protector fits,” Luke said, laughing. “It’s not like there’s anything wrong with that. I happen to be a card-carrying member, myself.”
Fey looked at Luke. “Is this a takes-one-to-know-one sort of thing?”
“No. But I do wear my geekness proudly: Brilliant. Mathematical genius.” He paused, a huge grin on his face. “Computer god.”
“Hardly,” Fey said.
“Humble,” Sera said at the same time.
“But I’m also geek chic,” Luke said with a straight face—but barely. “I’m totally cool.”
“You’re a total fool?” Fey said. Luke laughed, nodding his head.
Sera looked at Rosie again. “Dane’s the fool. I’ll be right back,” she said, and ran ahead.
Fey watched her call to the other girl, who turned and waited for Sera to catch up. Sera put a hand on Rosie’s arm as she talked to her, and Fey could see the slight glow of energy running up the girl’s arm and into the rest of her body. Rosie’s sagging shoulders lifted and she actually stood up taller, lifted her face, smiled at Sera. As she and Luke got closer, Fey could see the sadness leaving the girl’s eyes, a look of confidence replacing it.
Every time she witnessed Sera’s power, she felt awestruck.
And lucky to be who she was.
She glanced at Luke—he was watching Sera and Rosie intently. Fey slipped her hand into Luke’s. He turned to her, gave her hand a squeeze. It was quiet times like this that she wished she could tell them that she knew what they could do. Knew who they were. But it wasn’t entirely hers to tell.
Not yet.
Sera could see Fey and Luke walking hand-in-hand in her peripheral vision as she said goodbye to Rosie. A few well-placed subconscious ideas regarding her self-worth and the girl glowed on the power of her own good feelings as she walked away. Sera smiled.
She turned to Luke and Fey, but her eyes were immediately drawn beyond them to a woman staggering around the corner. She was bent over as if she’d been hurt. Sera tried to determine where, but the woman’s ankle-length black coat made it impossible to see her body. Long black hair hung over her face so Sera couldn’t tell if she was ill or injured or maybe even drunk. One hand was pressed into her abdomen, the other arm was held out for balance.
There was something about her. Sera got that familiar sensation of tightness in her stomach. Without even thinking about it, she reached for her necklace.
At that, Luke turned to look behind him, as did Fey. They had stopped walking just a few feet from Sera and watched.
“Hey, are you okay?” Luke held out a hand to the woman, but she stumbled past him and right into Sera.
Sera caught her and fought to regain her balance, then looked down with a gasp at the woman’s hands clutching her clothes. They were covered in blood, and a puddle was forming on the concrete at the woman’s feet as she stood there. She’d left a trail, Sera realized, as her eyes flipped back up to her face.
The woman gazed directly into Sera’s eyes through the purple lenses of her sunglasses, searching for a moment. “Help me. Please.” She faltered, her hands let go as if out of her control and she fell to her knees. Luke was there in an instant to catch her, support her. Sera had hold of her arms, and she and Luke lowered the woman to a sitting position. As soon as the woman was steadied, Sera placed one hand on her stomach, the other on her back.
“What’s your name?” Sera said quietly.
“Meghan.” A tight whisper.
Sera focused her thoughts on Meghan to speed the healing. Immediately bright white-hot light shot out of Sera’s hands and filled Meghan’s entire being with light. It was so bright Sera had to close her eyes.
That was new.
She turned and glanced at Luke. He was the only other person who could see the healing light, and he had turned his head away from the brilliance, too. Her heart thumped faster. She took a deep breath.
“Yes,” Meghan whispered, a slight smile on her lips. Sera’s eyes flew to her face. No one had ever responded to her healing like that before. As if they knew what was happening, knew it as soon as it had started.
But she couldn’t think about that at the moment. She’d figure it out later. Right now she needed to finish healing. She looked at Luke, who was crouched down on the other side of Meghan, helping to keep her upright. He had this worried look on his face when he met her eyes. But she got the feeling he wasn’t worried about Meghan. And Fey hadn’t moved to help at all. She just stood there staring down at the woman with what looked like distaste and suspicion.
A rush of energy surged through Sera’s arms into Meghan’s body, as if more and more power was needed to heal her. The energy pulled her hands to the woman’s body like a magnet. She gasped and instinctively started to pull her hands away.
“No.” Meghan grabbed Sera’s hands and held them to her. “Please,” she said.
Sera’s mouth hung open but she nodded, kept her hands there. She peered more intently at Meghan, and noticed that she seemed to almost flicker, as if she weren’t entirely solid and might disappear at any moment. But she was solid. Sera could feel her very solid body under her hands.
People couldn’t disappear.
So why did it look like Meghan could?
Maybe the extra energy flowing through her was affecting her eyesight, Sera thought. She looked at Luke and Fey to check. They both looked normal. Nothing shimmery about them.
“Sera,” Fey said, her voice low. “I think you should leave her be.”
“I’m just trying to help until the ambulance gets here.”
“Trust me,” Fey said. “This is not a good idea. You really should leave her alone.” Her eyes slid to Meghan, who still watched her, and she pursed her lips tight.
“Yeah, I’m not getting a good feeling here, either,” Luke said. “Let’s just wait for the ambulance.”
Sera’s jaw dropped and she stared at Luke. She couldn’t not help someone. Luke knew that.
Fey shifted her weight and glanced around.
Meghan made a pitiful moaning sound, and dropped her head down. Sera looked back down at her. Meghan’s entire body was glowing with white healing light that was starting to turn a pretty, light shade of purple.
Purple?
“What—?” Sera could feel the light pulling her hands even stronger against Meghan’s body. Her heart hammered at the increase in energy, her own blood rushing loudly in her ears. She tried to lift her hands away, but Meghan grabbed her hands again and held them tight. Instinct told her to pull away, but she wasn’t sure she could. Meghan was incredibly strong.
The color change was scaring her. The light had always been white. Only white. She didn’t know what the purple light meant. It didn’t seem to be harming Meghan, though. She actually looked like she was improving by the moment, and she had lost that strange flickering look about her. She looked completely solid again.
The purple glow started to fade from Meghan, and the energy flowing through Sera’s hands slowed. Once it was gone, Sera could easily lift her hands away. The world around her drew her focus again. A siren wailed in the distance, and several
people talked on cell phones nearby. A slight breeze rustled her hair, and crisp dead leaves bound by on the sidewalk.
Meghan opened her eyes and pressed a hand against her chest. She took a deep breath, a huge smile on her face. “It’s true,” she said, looking at Sera. “You’re the One.”
“I’m sorry. What?”
“It’s you. I knew it was you.”
“Do I know you?” Sera said.
“No. But I know of you.” She took off her sunglasses, and her eyes flicked to Luke. “And your brother.”
“What do you mean?” Sera said. She couldn’t know. About being healed. About Sera and Luke. Sera covered her necklace with her hand. Meghan couldn’t know. She couldn’t possibly—
“Thank you.” Meghan grasped Sera’s hand in hers. “You have no idea what you’ve done. Thank you.”
“What have I done?” Sera’s breaths were coming shorter and quicker.
“You’ve given me back my life. Literally.”
“I don’t—”
Meghan let go of her hand suddenly, surprising Sera into silence. She got up off the sidewalk, brushed her hands over the back of her dark coat, and looked at the drying trail of blood she’d left.
Sera tried again. “Look—”
“I’m going to tell my friends about you,” Meghan said. Then she glanced over Sera’s shoulder, and her face paled.
“No, please—”
“Thank you,” Meghan said in a quiet rush, then turned and ran.
“—don’t.” Sera said, but Meghan had already disappeared around the corner. Sera turned to look over her shoulder to see what it was that had scared Meghan off.
Jonas. From the other night outside the hospital, about a block away. Looking dark and dangerous.
“Great Hills,” Fey whispered, staring after Meghan. “What have you done?”
Fey glanced up the street. The siren was getting louder, the ambulance closer. They needed to get out of there before it arrived. Luke was still gazing at the corner where Meghan had disappeared, along with everyone else on the street. Sera, however, was staring at someone farther down the block. Fey turned.
Jonas.
Fey gasped and her eyes widened in alarm. He’d seen it. She was sure of it. Meghan was one of his, and he was staring intently at Sera.
He knew she could heal.
And very soon he would remember the Prophecy as well.
Jonas’s eyes suddenly snapped onto Fey’s face. She drew herself up to her full height with a deep breath, glared back. She was of the Light Elves. And he would remember his place. She held her left fist up and grasped that wrist with her right hand. An image flashed on the back of her hand—a warning. A chilled wind blew up from the lake behind her.
He held her gaze for a moment more, then looked off to where Meghan had vanished. He strode off after her, glancing back only once before he was out of sight.
He would find Meghan. Of that she had no doubt.
And then he would know.
Fey felt the core of her body tighten, her muscles freeze.
It was coming.
Soon.
NINE
She’s Gifted, Jonas thought. That’s what it was about her. It was so obvious to him now that he thought about it. He should have known. She was a healer.
He dodged quickly around people, making his way down the crowded sidewalk until he could cross over a block to the street Meghan was on. From all the blood Jonas had seen on the ground, he knew she’d been seriously hurt. She would have needed a trip to the hospital for treatment, and a hospital wasn’t a good place for a vampire.
Good thing the healer had been there.
But how exactly did she get injured like that during the day? That kind of thing didn’t happen. Not here.
A woman stepped out of a shop, momentarily blocking his way. Humans were so excruciatingly slow. If it weren’t vital to go unnoticed, he’d knock these people out of the way, force through the crowd. But he took a deep breath instead, and calmed himself. Meghan would be easy to find once he got around the corner.
Meghan had seen him. She’d looked right at him, recognition freezing her features in…what? Was it fear he had seen? He shook his head, wishing these humans around him would walk a little faster. She’d seen him and run.
Something was wrong.
A burst of laughter to his left and horns honking on his right sent spikes of irritation up his back. Jonas didn’t mind the sun, but he preferred the nights for the quiet. His sensitive ears picked up every sound—loud or soft—so the preponderance of noise during the day was grating.
He did his best to block out the sounds around him and focus on the problems at hand. Like Feyth. Her behavior made no sense. Flashing a warning at him like that. Because he’d recognized her charge as Gifted, as a healer? She knew he’d be able to see that. That he’d be aware the Gifteds had begun to appear, signaling a coming change in their world. He didn’t know why she would think he’d care.
And how dare she. He was a Guardian. He kept them all safe. Including Feyth and her healer.
He neared the corner with relief. Finally he would get out of the crowds. He turned the corner to a spartan street, ran as quickly as would not draw attention to himself, entered Church Street and stopped. People everywhere. Shoppers, kids hanging out after school, professionals running late afternoon errands before heading home for the day. She wouldn’t have been able to move quickly through this crowd, so she should have been somewhere in the next block or two. But there was no sign of her.
Jonas sniffed the air. Deep fried foods juxtaposed with oversweet perfume wafting out of an open shop door. But that’s not what he was sniffing for. He could smell nothing but humans.
Strange.
The street was speckled with colors—red cobblestones on the ground; rainbow-hued archways over the road on every block; red, orange, and yellow leaves on the abundance of trees; multicolor storefronts of books, the latest fashions, home decor; the colorful mishmash of t-shirts and sweaters on all the people. Even with his sharp eyes, it would be a challenge to find anyone in this throng.
But he had an advantage. He was searching for a flicker—the tell-tale sign that one is no longer a part of this world, or never was.
His eyes were drawn to the north end of the street—a flicker there. Ezekial, one of his own, appeared around the far west corner. Zeke’s slight build was deceptive—he was one of the quicker and stronger vampires Jonas had made. And his angelic face fit him despite his vampiric nature, for Jonas would almost swear he was part angel. That was why he had made Zeke so powerful and now put so much trust in him.
Though he didn’t trust him completely.
Jonas didn’t trust anyone completely.
Zeke was looking toward the church at the top of the street, then turned and spotted Jonas. He nodded and jerked his head toward the church. In the shadow of the large spire, Jonas saw her. Meghan had just crossed to the other side of the road. She turned to look back down the street, searching, worried. Their eyes met. She paled.
And ran.
Jonas raced after her, as quickly and carefully as he could. He ran across the street and around the church, following the direction she’d gone. Through parking lots, behind houses, beyond a grove of trees, over a black iron fence and into the graveyard.
The grassy expanse of the cemetery was a block long and wide, with roads running along three sides, backyards along the fourth. Neat rows of pale headstones ran parallel to the long side of the rectangular plot. Flowers were dying on graves here and there, and a circle of trees stood dead center, offering shelter from view.
Jonas stood still just inside the graveyard and stared at her. Meghan was in the circle of trees fifty yards away, the deep green grass around her littered with yellow leaves.
She should have been gone. Disappeared. This was the perfect place to do that—it was deserted. No witnesses. Instead, she was breathing heavily, hand on her side as if she were in pain, a few hundred
yards from where she took off. Jonas walked toward her, his gaze not wavering for a moment, and stopped several feet from where she panted.
Vampires didn’t get winded.
He narrowed his eyes, assessing her. She’d lost her preternatural shimmer—no wonder he hadn’t be able to pick her out of the crowd on Church Street. Her eyes were a warm brown instead of their usual black, and no longer protected by sunglasses. She wasn’t even squinting. He looked up at the sky through his purple lenses. There wasn’t enough cloud cover to go without glasses.
“Stay away from me, Jonas,” Meghan said. She’d caught her breath, and stood up, glaring at him, her usual fierce self. The first time Jonas had ever seen Meghan she’d been furious, and freshly turned. By whom, he didn’t know. It had taken years of his more calming influence to tone her down to a simmering rage. But her hair-trigger temper had remained. He was glad to see it was still intact.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Are you still hurt?”
“No,” she said. “Leave me alone. I don’t belong to you.”
“But you do.” He opened his arms wide, gesturing around. “This is my home. I take care of my own.”
“I don’t want your care.”
Jonas took a step toward her, and she immediately stepped back.
“Meghan.”
“Jonas,” she said. “Go away.”
He threw his hands into the air, and fought the urge to grab her and snap something. But, he reminded himself, that was neither necessary nor productive. Calm. Try to be calm. He inhaled deep through his nose.
And froze.
“No,” he said, and then sniffed again.
“It’s not—”
“Are you human?”
“Jonas—”
“You’re human?” he said. “You reek of human stench. What did she do to you?”
“Nothing I didn’t want her to.” Meghan lifted her chin.
Without saying a word, he turned back toward downtown. He’d find that healer. And she would pay for what she’d done. Perhaps Lilith needed a new plaything to torture.
“No!” Meghan sprinted around him, grabbed his arm.