by Megan Linski
“I heard rumors on campus that you were here visiting your brother? Are you staying long?”
He sits back in the chair. The movement makes my mouth water. “Dunno. I think I’ll be around awhile. I didn’t have a reason to stay before, but…” He cocks his head. “I think I do now.”
The way he says it… it makes me glow inside.
Thames pays for the bill, too. When we get back to his bike I pop out a hip and say, “Uh-uh. I want to drive.”
“No,” Thames says instantly, and he shakes his head. “Not gonna happen.”
“You go too slow. You’re being a weenie about it,” I tell him. I reach my hand out for the keys. “Let me.”
Thames hesitates. Then, as if he can’t resist, he slowly pulls the keys out of his pocket and hands them to me. “Okay. Don’t wreck my bike.”
I snicker, put the helmet on, and climb on the bike. Thames sits behind me and wraps his hands around my middle. I freeze when he does it.
His touch— it’s safe and warm. Comforting. It’s like the only place I want to be in this world is in his arms.
“Take it slow, okay?” Thames says nervously as I turn the bike around, toward the road. “I don’t want you to get—”
Thames’ words are lost to the wind as I gun it. The front tire rears off the ground a few inches, and Thames holds onto me for dear life as we touch back to asphalt. The odometer climbs past one-hundred in seconds, until we’re resting at about one-twenty on a straight shot.
I slow down (but not too much) as we twist and bend around each turn, hugging the corners too tight and running yellow lights. I go so fast on hills, that the bike actually jumps into the air a few feet before it comes back down to the road.
I have no fear. I’m a Nephilim. This can’t kill me… and if my suspicions about Thames are correct, it can’t kill him, either. He’s longing for this. He needs it. Though I’ve known him less for twenty-four hours, already I seem to have this magical understanding of what he needs… and what he’s been dying for.
At first, Thames is tight against me, his body cautious, but I eventually feel him loosen and become more fluid. He’s happier, even. It’s like he’s been begging someone to come and let him out of the cage another person boxed him in.
I skid to a stop in front of my dorm. I hand him the helmet, and say, “There. Now who’s the better biker?”
“Damn, girl. You’re crazy,” Thames says, breathless. His hair is windswept. There’s a look in his eyes that’s empowered… free. It burns and blazes. His eyes are like a fire that’s just caught, one that was stomped out, but is coming back brighter and stronger.
Am I the first person he’s met that’s truly allowed him to be himself? No restrictions or barriers, or worries about what others might think?
That’s sad.
“You don’t have to worry about being fragile with me, Thames,” I say playfully, punching his shoulder. “Whatever you can dish out, I can take it.”
Thames nods. “Yeah. Yeah, Lena… I believe you.”
Over the next few days, Thames swings by so we can play the new game together. We finish it in a week, and decide to start the game series over from the beginning.
Sydney and Emalee continue to be welcoming. Athias, for all his strange behavior on my first day, hasn’t done or said anything to me since, nor has the Nephilim council been on my tail, so I figure I got off clean.
My first few days of college breeze by… I barely notice I’ve almost been at school for three weeks until I look at my calendar.
On Monday on the last week of September, Thames doesn’t show up by five at my dorm like usual. It’s weird. He’s never blown me off before, or even canceled. We’ve texted every day even when we haven’t hung out, but my phone’s been silent ever since I told him goodnight the day before.
I text him, and go to the cafeteria to grab dinner, but an hour later there’s still no answer.
It’s really strange.
By ten o’clock I’ve given up hope that Thames is going to contact me and get ready for bed. I sink into my fuzzy kitty pants and hop into bed, swearing to myself I’m not going to care tomorrow if a stupid boy calls me or not.
Then… I feel it. Something’s wrong. I hear a crash outside, a muffled cry. I get out of bed and look out the window, scanning the streets.
My breath hitches in my throat as I see it. There’s a demon on campus.
I’m not getting out of my pajamas. Not even for a demon. Grumbling, I put on my tennis shoes and my jacket and head outside to take care of the problem.
I peer around the corner of the building and look at the demon. It’s a common one, an Alp— a familiar that causes nightmares. They torment people and keep them awake so they become sleep deprived and more susceptible to a major demon’s attack.
The Alp is scarier than the Kappa; made of smoke, and crumbling pieces of dreams, they usually take the form of people’s worst fears.
Me, I see it as it is. It’s humanoid, swirling smoke around it, with long claws, ram horns, and glowing red eyes. It’s wandering aimlessly around the campus courtyard in no direction in particular, as if deciding where to go next.
Another created-demon, instead of the real thing. As far as I knew, actual fallen angels are incredibly rare. Angels and Nephilim usual hunt actual demons the minute one ventures out of Hell. And so they stay hidden, and create familiars to do their dirty work.
A real demon nearby must’ve created this. Alps usually stick around high-population places and look for unknowing souls to suck energy out of. A college campus would be a perfect hunting ground.
I materialize my sword and go out to deal with it. Everyone’s sleeping, so at least no one will see me beat the crap out of this thing.
I plan to sneak up behind it, but I’m careless and end up kicking a pop can halfway across the lawn. It attracts the demon’s attention. The Alp swivels upon the air and extends its claws toward me, flying at a fast speed.
I deflect its claws with my sword. The demon shoots funnels of smoke at me from its hands, meant to choke me, but I roll underneath and swing my sword at the Alp. It results in a miss. The Alp is fast but I manage to keep up with it, dealing another swing and jab that strikes closer and closer each time it dodges.
The demon snarls before his face starts to change. His form ripples and bends, like water.
I pause. Only mortals are tricked by the Alp’s impressions. He won’t be able to change into my nightmare, because I don’t have any. I’m not afraid of anything. I’m—
Then the demon morphs into an impression of someone I know.
The face of my father.
I reel back. That’s not right. Am I afraid of my Dad?
… Or is my worst fear that I’m letting him down?
I don’t know what to do. I’m frozen. I hold my sword aloft as the Alp approaches. I find it impossible to hurt my Dad, even if it is just an impression of him.
“Lena!” someone shouts, and my heart clogs my throat. I look to the side. It’s Thames!
To my relief, he doesn’t look scared of the Alp, or even bothered at my winged appearance and sword. Rather, he seems concerned for me.
My certainty he’s not mortal heightens.
“Hit it from the left!” Thames says. “I’ll distract it!”
Thames runs toward the demon head-on. I don’t ask any questions and duck to the left, like he said. The Alp dances between the two of us, not sure who to strike before he settles on Thames. He lunges out to gut Thames with his claws.
“Thames, watch out!” I cry.
I’m certain he’s about to be sliced in half, but in milliseconds, Thames moves out of the way and grabs onto the demon’s arm— faster than what a mortal can move.
“I’ve got it! Kill it!” Thames shouts, wrestling with the demon as it tries to wrench itself out of his grasp.
I don’t waste any time. I plunge my sword into the back of the demon and twist upward, cutting into the heart.
&nb
sp; The Alp’s head rears back and it bellows to the sky. The ground shakes and the sky darkens even more before the Alp crumbles into a pile of ash at our feet.
Thames wipes the residue on his pants. “Well. Good to know you can handle yourself.”
My sword disappears. I burst. “You knew I was a Nephilim?”
“I wasn’t sure. I guessed,” he explains. “I was actually coming out to ask you about it tonight before I saw you swinging at a demon like it’s opening season for the Tigers.”
He looks down at my pajamas, and smirks. “Nice fuzzy pants.”
“Shut up,” I spit. “You sure acted like you knew what you were doing.”
“I’ve slain a few demons in my day,” he says.
It doesn’t bother him that I’m immortal. It almost looks like… like he’s relieved.
This only cements the fact in my head that he must be a Nephilim, too. But if that’s the case, why can’t I sense it? I should be able to.
“Can I see your wings?” I ask. I take a step forward, wondering if he’s hiding them behind his back right now.
“Uh…” he laughs. “No. No, you probably wouldn’t like that.”
“Bullcrap! Let me see,” I say, peering around him.
“No.” He laughs again, spins around, and holds me back. “Trust me on this one. You really don’t want to see them.”
Then he freezes. As if he can’t stand to not ask the question, he says, “Do you like to fly?”
“I love to fly,” I whisper. “Maybe we could go flying together?”
He shakes his head. “No. It’s not possible.”
“What?” I’m totally confused. “Why?”
“I’m not like you,” he says. He lets me go, and backs away. “That’s why.”
“What do you mean you’re not like me?” I ask. “You’re not mortal, that’s for sure.”
“No, but I—”
Thames’ eyes contract as a shadow looms in the distance. Someone’s walking toward us. “Crap!”
Thames grabs my wrist and pulls me to the nearest building, the Ottawa dorm. He ducks around the corner and hides there.
With a closer look, I realize it’s Athias.
“What are you freaking out about? It’s just my history professor,” I grump.
“He’s a little more than a history professor,” Thames whispers. “He’s the head of the Nephilim council.”
“What!?” I shriek. I can hear his footsteps. He’s coming closer.
“Shh!”
My heart thuds against my chest as Athias approaches. Thames reaches out a hand and drags me behind the wall, where he is. He peeks around the corner before drawing back, breathing hard.
The way he’s acting… it’s almost like he’s a criminal.
“I get the feeling you’re not supposed to be here, Thames Deacon,” I hiss.
“Quiet!” he tells me. He slaps a hand over my mouth and pulls me against his chest as Athias walks by with one arm. Thames keeps me braced there. Crazily… I find I’m unable to move.
Nobody has ever been stronger than me. Nobody. Not one person, immortal or mortal, has ever been able to pin me down. The worst demons I’ve ever fought can’t restrain me.
But Thames’ can. He’s got some kind of supernatural strength that’s more powerful than mine.
I close my eyes and inhale his ashen scent. Wood pulled straight from a fire, a dark night with a million stars scatted across an evergreen north. That’s what Thames smells like.
“Enjoying this?” Thames whispers in my ear. “He’s gone.”
I realize I’ve been still a bit too long. I pull out of his arm and ask, “What was all that about?”
“Not here,” he says. “Come on.”
Thames heads back to my dorm. Only when we’re inside and the door is locked I get the impression he’s going to tell me anything.
“What was all that about?” I ask. I grab a bag of cheese puffs and sit cross-legged on the bed— for some reason, I’m fricking starving. He climbs on the bed and sits opposite me, and leans against the wall. He looks pale, really nervous. I hand out the bag of cheese puffs to him, but he shakes his head and I pull it back. Fine. More for me.
Thames takes a deep breath. “Okay. This is gonna sound crazy, but I kinda… got banned from Michigan.”
“The entire state of Michigan?” I hiss though a mouthful of chesse puffs. “How the hell did you manage that?”
“I killed a human.”
I snicker, wiping my nose. “Good one, Thames.”
“No. I’m serious.”
“Huh?” I lift my head. “For real?”
“Yeah.” He nods. His eyes are rather hollow. “You scared of me now? Frightened to be in the same room with a murderer?”
I stare back at him. “Well… did he deserve it?”
“My brother would say that it’s not up to us to decide who deserves death and who doesn’t.” Thames sighs.
“And you say?” I raise an eyebrow.
Thames’ face darkens. “Oh, yeah. He definitely deserved it.”
“Fine.” I shrug. I shove another load of cheese puffs in my mouth.
“Just… like that?” Thames is shocked. “You’re willing to accept that I killed a mortal?”
I roll up the bag of cheese puffs and put them aside, dusting off the orangey residue on my pants. “You’re not a bad guy, Thames. Even I can see that. If you killed someone the world must’ve not needed them around anyway.”
For the second time that night, Thames relaxes. “I thought you’d hate me.”
I shake my head. “Nah. I don’t need to know the reason. I trust you.”
“How can you trust me?” Thames asks spitefully. The words are directed at me, but himself. Self-hatred infects his tone. “You barely know me.”
“I know you better than you think.” Thames looks like he needs something to ground him right now— bring him back to reality.
I suck up some courage, reach out, and grab his hand,
Thames looks at our conjoined hands like he can’t believe it’s happening. He then lifts my hand to his mouth and delivers a soft kiss to the top of it, gaze burning as his gaze returns to me. “Thanks, Lena. For understanding.”
His cell phone rings. He lets go of my hand and checks his messages.
Whatever it is, it’s not good. I can tell by the look on his face. He gets off the bed and says, “I have to go. Unfortunately.”
He reaches out and flicks the bottom side of my chin affectionately. “I’ll be back tomorrow, doll. I promise.”
Thames leaves. I’m left staring at the impression his body made in my mattress.
I don’t understand. Every time he does that. He just… lights me up… like an inferno…
Then leaves me here. To smolder.
All throughout October, Thames hangs out with me less and less until he’s only coming over once a week. I have Sydney and Emalee now to hang out with, so I’m not really lonely, but…
I’m lonely for him. I hate it when he’s away. I want him around every second, every moment, every day. I don’t feel right when he’s gone. It’s like I’m not a complete person if I don’t feel his presence at least once. Like my entire being is off.
We were so tight, then he just pulled away. He became my closest friend and disappeared, like he’s afraid of getting too close.
Is he like this with everyone? Or just me?
Ever since he told me he murdered someone, Thames has been avoiding me. He’s being a total jerk. I thought a confession like that would bring us closer.
Apparently, it just pushed him further away.
“Thames been visiting lately?” Emalee asks one sunny October afternoon. She and Sydney have decided my dorm is better than theirs, because I have no roommates, and have taken to treating this place like their own personal house whenever Thames isn’t around.
Which, lately, is every day.
“No.” I sigh. “I haven’t seen him in forever.”
&nb
sp; “Thames gets moody,” Sydney explains. She’s on my bed, flipping through an adult store magazine filled with sexy Halloween costumes. “He gets weird from time to time. He has to run off, to be emo and listen to screamo or something. He was like that with Cassia, too.”
There’s that girl again. I’m beginning to hate her.
“Oooh, I love that,” Emalee says as Sydney flips a page. She snatches the magazine out of Sydney’s grasp and says, “Forget Thames. Are you going to Alpha Pi’s Halloween party?”
“I don’t know,” I muse, my mind still on bad boys. “Should I?”
“You should. Everyone on campus goes, and we all dress up,” Sydney says. “It’s a lot of fun.”
Emalee’s stomach groans. “Ugh. I’m so hungry,” she complains.
“I’m starved, too.” Sydney gets off the bed. “Let’s head to Angelo’s. Lena, you want to come?”
“You girls go,” I say absentmindedly. “Bring me back something. I don’t care what.”
“Kay.” Emalee and Sydney head out and leave the magazine face down on the bed. I curl up on the floor, tuck my legs under me and think.
Thames infects all my thoughts these days. It’s like the more he stays away, the more I want him.
I’m worried that he’ll get the idea to cut his visit to Michigan short and leave. When I think about that, I realize that I can’t let that happen. Thames is a part of me now. I know it’s fast and sudden, but he’s my friend— he could even be more.
I’m not gonna lie to myself about it. I like him. So what? Most girls would. But this… connection between us is undeniable. I’m not going to let it wither away just because he’s being moody. I have to get his attention somehow, remind him of what we have… what we could be.
I glance at the sultry Halloween magazine Sydney left lying on my bed. Thames wants to ignore me? Fine. I’ll make sure to do something he can’t ignore.
On Halloween, I look in the mirror proudly. This costume took all my allowance money, but oh, it’s so worth it.
A feathery white corset, tied in the back with lace, pushes up my boobs and pulls my waist in tight. The pleather, white skirt is barely a skirt at all; more like a tube that, if I sit or bend down, is going to show my goods to the world.