Arianna Rose: The Gathering (Part 3)

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Arianna Rose: The Gathering (Part 3) Page 3

by Martucci, Christopher


  Once she had been satisfied that all evidence of what had happened had been sufficiently destroyed, she’d collected Luke’s ashes. She vowed to scatter them somewhere beautiful one day, somewhere that would honor him. Until that day came, she would keep them with her in the cabin she’d rented thanks to Kane’s church’s generous, albeit unwitting, donation to her.

  His unknown contribution had been a great help to her in the last two weeks. The money had secured the cabin she now called home. Convincing the owner of the cabin, John, had been a challenge. But the almighty dollar had proved potent enough to sway him to rent it to an eighteen-year-old girl. His price had been three months’ rent upfront and a hefty security deposit. She’d paid cash, to his delight, and after signing a lease, he had just handed over a key. He’d seemed like a pleasant enough man, and with his cherry-hued cheeks and nose and a distinct scent of Scotch that clung to his clothes like scum on a pond, he would have been exactly the kind of man her mother would have dated. Perhaps that’s why she’d felt an odd soft spot for him. Nevertheless, he was her landlord, and she was a brand-new tenant living alone for the first time in her life.

  With a roof over her head, all that remained for her to do was to register for school, again. Dropping out of high school in her senior year had never been an option. Sola or no Sola, she was determined to graduate from high school with a diploma. Apart from her own motivation, her mother would have wanted her to.

  “Make me proud, baby,” her mother had always said. “Be the first in my family to graduate from high school.”

  The words echoed in the wind as though her mother were reaching out to her from a golden trailer park in heaven.

  Arianna smiled, a pained, sentimental smile, and stubbed her cigarette against the sole of her black motorcycle boot. She set the snuffed butt on the ground for a moment then inspected the backyard. But before she could take in the entire view, another image distracted her. Her eyes settled on the overturned pot on the patio, or more specifically, the deceased plant that had been housed there. Unable to look at the plant cadaver a moment longer, she stooped and scooped it up. She stood the pot upright and placed the brown and dried carcass inside. With that out of the way, she scanned the surrounding area. Her cabin, nestled high in Hallowed Hills, Maine, offered a panoramic view of trees. In the early fall, she guessed the view would be stunning, alive with rich colors. But now, with the last of the leaves long-since fallen, the landscape looked as though it were filled with innumerable emaciated limbs reaching, pleading with outstretched arms toward her. The woods were watchful as well, too watchful.

  All around her were countless thickets, shrubs and trees. All could easily conceal predators, animal and human. Unease tickled the back of her neck like invisible fingers trailing over her skin. Perhaps it was the result of her strained mind, battered and bruised by the gruesome deaths of the ones she’d loved, or perhaps being hunted by Kane had left her so paranoid, she now thought the forest stalked her. More of his men existed in the world, but she wondered whether any of them could feel her as he had, or whether they would simply disband in the absence of their deranged leader. Either way, she felt the need to be vigilant, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.

  She stepped out further, boldly positioning herself on the edge of the patio where the concrete gave way to grass. The lawn extended to a tree line that marked the beginning of what looked like rolling hills and valleys of woodland. With her shoulders back and her hands on her hips, she brazenly surveyed the land, staring intensely, as if challenging whomever or whatever watched her, and made known she was not afraid. But the forest didn’t flinch. And nothing had pounced from the bushes. She raked a hand through her hair then turned and walked back in to her cabin.

  With the door closed and the daunting chore of unpacking before her, Arianna decided to put stalkers and supernatural beings on the back burner and save any further mourning for her evening shower. Boxes needed to be unpacked, food needed to be stocked on shelves and in cupboards. After all, the next morning would be her first day at the last high school she would ever attend, a high school she’d been drawn to in a town her powers had brought her to.

  Chapter 3

  Desmond teleported from the tunnels beneath New York City immediately and was eager to distance himself physically from all that had happened there. He pictured Herald Falls, far north of the city, the last town Arianna had lived in, and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he stood before the trailer she’d shared with her mother just two weeks ago.

  The trailer was empty. He did not need to knock or look in a window to be certain. He did not feel Arianna’s energy, and knew she was gone. He stood for a moment and was about to concentrate on locating her when someone spoke unexpectedly.

  “You lookin’ for the girls?” a voice called.

  Desmond turned and saw a head peeking out from the door of the neighboring trailer, and a rather unfortunate looking head at that.

  “Excuse me?” Desmond replied and bought himself time by pretending he hadn’t heard the man.

  “I was just askin’ if you were lookin’ for the pretty ladies that used to live there is all,” he said and lowered his eyes as if he’d just been reprimanded.

  “Oh, yes, I was looking for them actually,” Desmond said and smiled. “They moved though, huh?”

  “Yep, yes they did. They moved outta here. Such a shame too ‘cause they was real nice ladies,” he said and took a small step outside.

  In full view, Desmond saw that the man wore a stained T-shirt, fleece pajama bottoms with a yellow, grinning cartoon character printed on them and knee-high rain boots despite the fact that no rain had fallen. His hair stood on end and looked as though it could use a thorough washing and combing, and his overall appearance was unkempt. But his appearance meant little to Desmond. He simply wanted to find Arianna as quickly as possible.

  “Did they say where they were going?” Desmond asked.

  He knew there was no “they,” that Cathy Rose was dead. Arianna was alone and he doubted she’d disclosed where she was going to anyone, let alone a random neighbor.

  “Nope. No sir they did not. And no disrespectin’ to you, but I don’t suppose they’d be wanting me to tell just any ole body where they moved to, so I wouldn’t tell you even if I did know.”

  He’d assumed the man would not know of her whereabouts and hadn’t expected to hear any news. The fact that he would have refused to give information had he had any came as a pleasant surprise to Desmond. Yet, the man waited tensely, as if bracing himself for a scolding. With his head bowed, he stole sidelong glances at Desmond.

  “I’m not offended,” Desmond said reassuringly and placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, hoping to convey that he wasn’t angry in the least. “In fact, I think you’re a good friend for keeping their whereabouts to yourself, if you knew them.”

  The man raised his head and beamed, and when he did, he revealed a mouth full of greenish-brown teeth that looked as though they were all fighting for a single spot in his mouth.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said and nodded enthusiastically.

  Judging from the way the man reacted, Desmond got the impression he had never received a compliment in his life.

  “Thank you for looking out for them,” Desmond replied sincerely.

  “Oh you’re absolutely welcome! Absolutely! Say, are you headin’ out to look for Miss Cathy and Miss Arianna now?”

  “Yes, yes I am as a matter of fact.”

  “Well, you tell I said hi!”

  “Will do,” Desmond assured him.

  He turned and faced Arianna’s former home once again, intent on tuning into her energy as if he were a satellite picking up a signal. He could not remember a time he’d been without her for more than a day or so. Zeroing in on her energy had never been an issue, and attempting to do so was utterly foreign to him.

  He closed his eyes and focused, picturing her in his mind’s eye. Immediately, her image
popped into his brain. Lengths of straight, raven-hued hair framed an olive complexion. Large eyes so dark they almost matched her hair dominated the rest of her delicate features. Her face was before him, so real he resisted the urge to reach out and brush his knuckles against her cheek. He felt instantly calmed by the vision of her, and was able to concentrate. As he did, the world fell silent before falling away from him altogether. White light filled his field of vision. He bathed in it as it rushed at him, swirling and speeding, as though he were traveling inside a bolt of lightning.

  When finally the ride ended, he found himself standing on a dirt road before a small cottage. The cottage sat atop a steep hill and overlooked a forest filled with trees stripped of their leaves. They looked like a haggard frontline of soldiers that had long-since been beaten and ridded of their armor. Behind them, however, waited an endless sea of pines and cedars as far as the eye could see, readied with their barbed spines. It seemed a more fitting locale for Arianna, stunning and breathtaking, just like her.

  With excitement swarming inside him so strongly it threatened to spontaneously surge from his body like a sunburst, he walked up the narrow stone pathway to the front door and knocked lightly.

  Chapter 4

  Arianna had busied herself unpacking the contents of her box marked “bathroom” when a knock at the front door interrupted her.

  “This guy is something else!” she muttered to no one. “He needs to get a life, or a hobby, something,” she continued as she stomped through her bedroom past the kitchen. By the time she’d reached the living room, she’d gotten herself sufficiently riled and was prepared to blast John Jervis, the person she was certain had knocked on her door.

  “Jeez John!” she shouted as she twisted the doorknob. “What now?” she huffed, but felt her legs go weak and her eyes widen in surprise. The person on the other side of the door was not John as she’d expected. It was Desmond.

  “Who’s John?” Desmond asked her and quirked a brow.

  “Desmond!” she breathed and felt emotion well in her eyes. She did not think she would see him again so soon, if ever. Yet, here he was, standing in her doorway like a god fallen to Earth. “What’re you,” she started and heard her voice falter. She wanted to ask him what he was doing there, but her throat had constricted tightly around the lump that had formed there. Besides, his reason for being there did not matter. All that mattered was that he was, in fact, standing on her doorstep.

  “You’re here!” she managed and gave up fighting the rush of emotion. She closed the distance between them, threw her arms around his neck and squeezed, inhaling deeply. His rich, masculine scent filled her nostrils. He smelled of leather and another spicy note she could not place, and musk. He smelled like Desmond. He smelled like home to her. But not a home she’d ever lived in or anything as simple or traditional as that. The feelings it evoked ran far deeper than anything she could put into words. She breathed him in again, filled her lungs with his fragrance, and savored in an indescribable sense of belonging so profoundly entrenched in her core she had to struggle to keep from weeping.

  “I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear and she felt her heart swell so greatly she worried her ribs could no longer contain it.

  Two weeks without him had seemed like two years. She wanted nothing more than to stay, just as they were, wrapped in each other’s arms, but knew that, at the very least, she should invite him in.

  “I’m so happy you’re here,” she said. She dropped her arms from his neck reluctantly and stepped back. “Come in.”

  She moved aside and watched him walk past her. The cabin looked much smaller with him in it, and better. His generous height and broad shoulders filled the room. She’d forgotten how strapping he was. His face was indelibly etched in her mind, but his body remained somewhat of a mystery. Filled with hard planes and peaks, it emitted heat so inviting, she found herself yearning for it, yearning for its comfort. So much had happened in such a short time. She had missed him. It seemed like a lifetime had passed since she’d seen him last. She’d ached for him during that time, ached for the rich sound of his voice, for the warmth of his touch.

  Having him there in her new place and breathing his intoxicating scent made her forget how he’d left her so abruptly, and when she’d needed him most. He’d told her they were not meant to be together or some other crap like that. All of it was a blur now. All that mattered now was that he was standing in her living room.

  She wanted to tell him everything, tell him how much she’d missed him, how she’d felt like a part of her had been ripped from her then hold him hostage for the rest of their lives. But she did none of those things. Instead, she blurted out, “What are you doing here?” and felt her cheeks blaze.

  Desmond shifted uncomfortably and she did not know what to do.

  “I mean, I thought we weren’t supposed to be together anymore. I thought you were relieved of your protector duties,” she continued to fumble idiotically.

  Despite her fumbling, a hint of resentment remained in her tone that awkwardness could not hide.

  “I needed to see you,” he shocked her by admitting. “It’s harder than I thought to be away from you after spending so much time together.”

  His crystal-blue eyes held hers and she felt her insides liquefy. She searched them, trying to steady herself, and swore she saw shame flicker in his features.

  “Sit. Stay awhile,” she said in the same tongue-tied tone she’d used since he’d gotten there.

  He crossed the small living-room area and looked between the floral-print sofa and matching loveseat, both situated around an oval, wooden coffee table as if asking her which he should sit on. He seemed so nervous, almost as nervous as she felt.

  “Are you thirsty?” she asked and realized she’d never seen him eat or drink anything. “I mean, does your kind get thirsty?” she heard herself ask and cringed. Why was she acting like such a nut? She wondered. They had been around one another before. According to Desmond, he’d been around her his whole life.

  “My kind is your kind, Arianna,” he reminded her gently.

  She felt her olive skin blush deeply and she cleared her throat. “Sorry. Yeah, wow, that was really stupid of me,” she said and willed herself to calm down.

  “I’d love a glass of water,” he said, his voice sending chills racing across her skin.

  She raked a hand through her hair before moving to the kitchen area. As if her every word since he’d gotten there had not been embarrassing enough, she was reminded that she did not have a glass on hand. All of them were still packed in boxes. She had to dig through one and pull a glass wrapped in newspaper from it. She peeled the paper, rinsed it then filled it with water from a gallon jug in the refrigerator. All the while, her hands trembled.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her and she thought the glass would slip from her hand.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Never better,” she heard herself reply without emotion as she brought him his glass of water and sat beside him on the couch. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “For starters, you lost your mother two weeks ago,” he said and his words hit her like a ton of bricks.

  “Yeah, I know. How could I forget?” she snapped.

  A pained expression clouded his exquisite features and she instantly regretted the harsh tone she’d used.

  “Arianna, I’m so sorry. It’s just that I saw your hands shaking when you poured my water and I got worried,” he started but she cut him off.

  “Don’t. I’m the Sola, remember? I’m destined to be a miserable, lonely spinster according to you and, well, life. Turns out, I can’t have a mom, a friend, a boyfriend, you.”

  The bitterness poured from her effortlessly and without warning. A part of her that she had not yet acknowledged until the present had reared its ugly head. She was angry, angrier than she’d ever been. Saddled with a snappy title and responsibilities she never wanted, Arianna had a world of hurt thrust at her, the rest of which remained to be seen,
though only one person was left to take from her and he was likely champing at the bit to leave right now. He’d already left once before.

  “You’re not destined to be miserable. You have a very important job,” Desmond said with little conviction. His sadness was palpable and she could not stand to see him hurting.

  “Yeah whatever,” she said dejectedly and decided not to share her frustrations with him.

  “Nice place, by the way,” he tried to lighten the mood. “Where are we, anyway?” he asked.

  “You don’t know where you are?” she asked incredulously. His innocent question, the guileless expression on his glorious face, made the annoyance she’d been feeling disperse like grains of sand in a breeze. “Didn’t you read signs on the highway as you drove?”

  “Read signs? Uh, no. Not exactly. I teleported here,” he replied.

  “Oh yeah, duh, I’m such an idiot today,” she said and lowered her eyes embarrassedly. “You, I mean I, or we, rather, are in Hallowed Hills, Maine,” she continued slobbering all over every sentence she spoke to him. She hated how she felt and how she was acting. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she either acted like a complete moron or a complete bitch.

  “Can I teleport too?” she asked and sounded more like herself.

  “I don’t know. Have you tried?”

  “No. I haven’t. Not since my powers, you know, woke up at Kane’s church two weeks ago.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “I will,” she said and took her lower lip between her teeth.

  He looked at her expectantly.

  “Not now,” she said and caught him staring at her. “I’m not going to try to teleport right this minute. I need to, I don’t know, concentrate at the very least, and I can’t concentrate when you’re around.”

 

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