The Ravenswynd Series - Boxed Set

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The Ravenswynd Series - Boxed Set Page 8

by Sharon Ricklin Jones


  His eyes bore into mine as if he had been imagining the exact same things I was, and I shivered at the thought of it. If I didn’t stay focused and breathe regularly, I’d be on the floor again. Only this time it would not be due to fear of the unknown, or holding my breath, or dehydration - but from hyperventilating.

  “This is real, Elizabeth. You feel it,” Emrys said, giving my hand a squeeze. “The connection is strong.”

  “We barely know each other,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “We know enough. We have the rest of our lives to learn more.” Rich, velvet words. His eyes held me fast. His touch was warm and gentle. Would it be just like this when – that is – if we kissed?

  He smiled. Not again! He had done it again. He had to be reading my mind!

  “I would love to kiss you,” he said with a gentle intensity. The volts of electrical energy surged through my whole body from head to toe.

  I was at a loss for words for the first time in my life. I wanted to believe him with every fiber of my being, to believe in love at first sight, for him to be the one. He seemed so honest, and it felt so right. I looked at his lips and imagined his kiss. That vivid image was enough to ignite a fire that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to control. I was slipping away, no longer my own person, more a part of something much larger than myself. Was this love?

  Or was I a gullible idiot?

  “Wait a minute.” I swallowed hard. “Didn’t you say you were on holiday? When do you have to leave and go back home to England?” All of a sudden I was freaked out and anxious about the future. Already worried he’d leave me if we let this go any further.

  “I will never leave you. You shall come with me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

  He’d done it again - he kept answering my thoughts. I flinched ever so slightly in response, almost pulling away, but he continued his electrified hand holding with a firm grip. This was madness. What about my sister? I could just hear her scolding me in her motherly way: telling me I had lost my mind – there’s no such thing as love at first sight. What about my schooling, my future, and my friends? My mind reeled. Then it hit me like a bucket of ice-cold reality. He must be a player looking for a good time with a moronic American. He had all the right words, eyes that could melt me alive, great looks and hair - the whole package. I would be taken for a long ride, and the end of the story would be me - sitting in my room in a puddle of tears while Melinda stroked my hair and told me it would all be okay.

  Shaking my head, I pulled my hand back. The electrical current stopped, my mind cleared, and I tried to look anywhere but into his eyes. I poked at my now-wilted salad, folded and unfolded my napkin, wiped off my lipstick, and drank the last of my tea. Out of the corner of my eye I could see he was frowning, but I couldn’t look at him.

  “I should be getting home now. I have an early class tomorrow morning.” I tried to sound normal.

  “What is it, Elizabeth?” he asked with a puzzled look.

  I noted a tone of sadness in his voice.

  “Nothing, Emrys. I’ll meet you back here Saturday evening - if you want.” I didn’t look up, but I began to gather up my coat and purse and slide out of the booth.

  He took my coat and held it while I eased into it. His hands touched my shoulders sending small currents through the thick material, and he turned me around to face him. I was afraid to look up. If I did his eyes would lock me in again. Instead, I reached for his silver medallion. I didn’t examine it closely, but it seemed like some sort of black bird. I toyed with it and tried to avoid Emrys’ eyes.

  “Cool necklace.” I didn’t like the coolness in my voice, but I could not lose myself.

  He touched my chin and lifted my face. Electrical energy flowed through his finger; my lips quivered, and my eyes started burning.

  He brushed the tears on my cheek and said, “Elizabeth, please. I do not understand.” He sounded tortured.

  I picked up my purse and buttoned my coat. I glanced into his eyes for one second, and touched his arm. Standing on my tiptoes, I brushed his cheek with a light kiss and said, “I’ll meet you here Saturday... at seven.”

  I didn’t glance back as I ran to the door. Sobbing full-blown tears by the time the wind hit my face, I ran all the way home. The cold air stung my lungs, but I couldn’t stop running. If I did, I’d turn and run back into his arms, and then regret it the rest of my life. I knew it would be a gigantic miracle if he showed up on Saturday. There had to be dozens of other love-struck women who’d be willing to diddle around with him. And there was plenty of time to find one between now and then, including Friday night at the pub. Everyone will be there. Except for us poor dumb suckers going to the party.

  I slammed the dorm room door behind me and was relieved to discover that Kathy and Will were gone, and only my dear sister was home. She sat under a blanket watching a movie and looked up as I locked the door. She knew instantly by the expression on my face that something had gone wrong and, before I had my coat hung up, she stood next to me asking what had happened.

  “Didn’t you find your man with the hair and eyes?” She touched my shoulder and brushed the hair out of my face.

  “He did show up.” My voice quivered. “We’re supposed to meet again on Saturday.”

  “Then what’s the problem, sis?” She touched my cheek with a soft hand.

  “I think this guy is too good to be true, and if he meets me back there Saturday night, it’ll be a big surprise. I’m pretty sure if I had let him, he would have taken me back to his place, which is most likely a motel since he’s on vacation, and he would have had his way with me.” I wiped my eyes; sure the black makeup had melted down all over my face.

  “Lizzy, that’s what any normal American male would do. What’s so unusual about that? Did he try anything or what?”

  “No, but he went on and on about ‘forever’ and ‘never leaving’ me...as if we had been dating for years. Oh, and he’s not American. Emrys is from England.” I went to sit on the sofa, grabbed the remote, and started to flip through the channels.

  “Hey, I was watching that!” Lindy followed me and wrenched the remote out of my hand and, without missing a beat, said, “So then he’s a normal British male.” She turned her movie back on, hit mute, and plunked herself next to me on the sofa. “If he hasn’t forced himself on you, or even mentioned it, I don’t see the problem.”

  “You should have heard him. He said everything any woman would want to hear. Except usually these things aren’t said until you actually have an ongoing relationship - not on your first night together, which by the way, was not even a planned date.”

  “Oh, I see. Now you don’t believe in love at first sight.” The sarcasm poured like liquid. “I thought you did, since you were the one who had to go meet him, as if you knew he was the one.” She grinned at me mischievously and started playing with my hair.

  “I know, I know. It makes absolutely no sense. He looks at me like he’s been in love with me for years. He finishes sentences for me. When he touches me I feel electrical shocks running through me - his eyes alone speak volumes! I think he can even read my mind.” I glanced at her. “Don’t look at me like that - it’s uncanny how he knows things.”

  “Ah huh.”

  “Melinda, I swear... if he had kissed me... I would have done it right there in the pub. That’s how he affects me!”

  “Whatever you say, sis. I’ll be surprised if you do it on your wedding night!” She had tried to sound playful, but I caught her undertone of sarcasm.

  I shook my head. This happened to be the one subject that I didn’t feel comfortable discussing with her. I didn’t agree with her choices and she knew it.

  “Hey, speaking of kissing - I kissed Mark the other night after we got you up here and into bed.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  “Really? Did anything else happen?” I asked, hoping I didn’t sound too judgmental. It was so hard to keep quiet.

  “No, Elizabeth!” The answe
r was emphatic and she tossed back her head.

  “So, there’s hope for you yet!” I chuckled. I always wondered if, deep down, she wished she had stayed a virgin too.

  Melinda asked me to tell her more about my beautiful stranger, and I went over every single detail. She listened intently as I droned on for over an hour. She never did go back to her movie. Talking with my sister brought a familiar calmness. No matter our moods, we could always make each other laugh and feel better about our situations and ourselves. I wasn’t sure how to feel about Emrys. A lot depended on whether or not he showed up on Saturday. I could still see his eyes whenever I closed mine, but something wasn’t quite right about him. Maybe it was just me, but he was too perfect. Too good to be true. That never happens in real life.

  CHAPTER 6

  THE NAME GAME

  The next morning when I rolled out of bed and looked in the mirror, I thought my eyes looked different. I even asked Kathy and Lindy about them. Kathy just shrugged. Her morning routine was much quieter than any other time of the day: she had to do her yoga; she had to eat her bran, and then get ready for school. We loved mornings with our roommate.

  “Well, they may be a little puffy, but other than that, they look fine.” I stared at my sister’s eyes and then peered back into the mirror as Lindy looked closely at me.

  “No, something is different. They don’t look exactly like yours anymore.” I pushed at the eyelids; I pulled on my lashes. “Something is not right.”

  “You’re crazy! Get ready for school, or you’ll be late and then you’ll be in a mood.” Melinda was right; I hated to be late.

  I finished up in the bathroom, threw my things into my backpack, and grabbed my coat. “See you all later,” I called, just before pulling the door shut.

  Kathy was still on the floor like some crazy contortionist as Lindy called after me, “Love you, sis.”

  Bright sunlight poured in through the outer glass doors nearly blinding me. But it was great to finally see the sun again after the past week of gray skies, and when I stepped outside, the air felt thick and humid. Little brown sparrows twittered about chirping with glee. I watched a squirrel jumping from limb to limb in a red maple tree, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of something black. I turned to see what it was, but it had disappeared behind the corner of the building. I shrugged. My eyes had been playing all kinds of tricks on me this morning, so I didn’t think much of it - until my walk to Anthropology class when I sensed someone watching me. And even though it was broad daylight, the ever-increasing notion of being followed began to unnerve me. I wanted to turn around and look, but I just couldn’t; instead I quickened my pace. I wondered if the unsettled feeling from last night added to my over-active imagination today. Or was this fear warranted? I started walking even faster, and just as I broke out into a cold sweat, I arrived at Gaige Hall. Safe, and feeling somewhat silly.

  After my first class I headed over to the Horace Mann Hall to the walk-in computer lab. The sun was still bright and high in the sky, and much warmer than it had been in weeks. I looked down at the colorful, swirling leaves as they crunched under my feet, and noticed my short shadow following me as I hurried along the sidewalk. Out of the blue, my pulse suddenly quickened and my mouth went dry. I pulled my water bottle out of my backpack and took a long drink. No time for fainting spells today, please!

  The lab was all but empty, and I was sure to find an open computer. With so few students hunched over keyboards and monitors, the room was eerily quiet, except for the sound of the familiar clicking and tapping as text was typed. I claimed an open computer, put my backpack on the floor near the table, hung my coat on the chair, and signed in.

  I had decided to do a bit of research since I had some time to spare. Names always fascinated me - their meanings, the culture of the people surrounding their origins. So, of course, I had to look up his name- even though, in all likelihood, I would never see him again. His name was so different, so unique: Emrys. As I opened the search engine, I marveled. How did we ever get along before we had Google?

  In no time at all, I found a website that listed names and their meanings and included a search-box for specific spellings. I typed in Emrys, guessing at the letters. I watched and waited, and when the meaning popped up, goose bumps scurried all over my body and a quick shiver jerked through me.

  Emrys: Welsh form of Latin Ambrosius meaning immortal.

  Was this some kind of sick joke? I took a breath, and then tried his middle name. Blake: Old English byname for a person with unusually dark hair. And finally, his last name - Bertrand: Medieval French form of Old High German Berhtram, meaning bright raven. Okay, so he’s an undying, dark- bright raven. Laughing out loud, I attracted a few glances my way from other students. I checked the clock and thought - as long as time was being wasted here, I may as well keep going, and punched in my own name.

  Elizabeth: God is my oath. Since I nearly died at birth, perhaps our mother felt my life was a miracle from God, but I had no clue about my middle name: Amarande. I typed it in. The internet hung, leaving the little hourglass on the screen draining and turning and draining.

  “Oh, flaming hell,” I muttered under my breath.

  I waited, tapping my fingers. Perhaps I should be doing something more constructive - like looking over my notes for my next class. I was just about to forget this whole little extracurricular activity when the computer was back in action and the page opened. The words leapt out at me, nearly knocking me off the chair. Was this an auspicious omen?

  Amarande: A variation of Amarantha -Greek origin meaning unfading – also the name of a mythical flower that was supposed to be immortal.

  Same as Emrys. Okay, this couldn’t possibly get any weirder.

  I remembered that Melinda’s name meant black or dark in modern English, but when I looked it up I was surprised to see the Latin origin meant sweet. Our only baby picture showed that we both had pitch-black hair at birth, but not many people thought of Lindy as being sweet! I decided to see about her middle name.

  Anastasia: Feminine form of Greek Anastasios meaning resurrection.

  The universe must be toying with me. In one way or another, all of our names referred to living forever. Fine - I could play along. What if all of these coincidences meant something? And perhaps it also had something to do with our plan to attend the party which would give us specific choices regarding our eternal futures. It only made sense then, that I should get Melinda to ask Emrys to join us. Maybe he’d like to live with me forever and ever! My heart skipped a beat. What a flaming crock! This was all so juvenile. I leaned back in my seat and stretched my neck muscles for a minute. There was time for one more, I thought with a snicker.

  I decided to look up Fiona just for fun.

  Fiona: Irish – Gaelic origin meaning fair-white.

  That was quite appropriate. I had to think about her middle name for a few seconds. Oh, yes, it was Ameretat. Another unusual one. I frowned as I typed it into the search box hoping I had spelled it right, and noted casually that all our middle names began with an “A”. After the page loaded and I scrolled down to see the meaning, I went cold. An acute chill prickled the surface of my skin, and another cold sweat engulfed me. Was this even possible?

  Ameretat: Avestan name meaning immortal

  Was this just another coincidence, or was this for real? But why isn’t Lindy’s second name like ours? I reached over to the mouse and clicked back a page or two, finding it a second later. Resurrection is different from never dying, but dying and being brought back was close enough. My mind reeled as I tried to make sense of it all. My strange dizziness returned, and I feared I might have another fainting spell. I pushed my chair away from the desk, leaned forward, and put my head between my knees pretending to pick up a dropped pencil - in reality trying to get the blood to return to my head. I didn’t want to collapse in the computer lab - that was for sure. What was up with me lately? I was not usually one to faint. When I thought things
were back to normal, I eased myself up again. Strange silver slivers darted here and there, evidence that I had not fully recovered. In fact, my vision had definitely been going haywire today because again I thought I saw a black form - this time, exiting the main door. Once more I checked the clock and realized I had to get going, so, dizzy or not, I gathered all my things and ran.

  My next lecture was a blur; it was close to impossible to concentrate. Not only did I have all our names and their meanings running through my mind, I was now consumed with thoughts of the party and how I could get Emrys there. Surely he’d think I was crazy. I had no way to find him in time, other than to sit in the pub and hope he got thirsty or something. That, in and of itself, was weird. If he is on vacation, why would he hang around a pub that caters mostly to college students and serves only greasy fast food? Why indeed. Unless, he was meant to meet me! What a grand thought. We were meant to be together...yeah right.

  These sarcastic and nonsensical thoughts irritated me like a static radio station that wouldn’t come in clear. But I couldn’t shut them down no matter how I tried. Every other turn of the knob brought me back to the party, or to Emrys.

  At lunch, I went to The Café - as usual, but Lindy wasn’t there. Fiona wasn’t there either, and I had to eat alone. It was not good for me to be left alone with my own thoughts right now. I needed a diversion. As I took a bite of my apple, I looked up and saw Mark stroll in wearing a big smile. He came over to say hi and I asked him to sit, please. He’d do as well as any other diversion. I drilled him with questions regarding my sister and his feelings for her.

  His blonde head bobbed up and down as he answered, “Yeah, she’s something else. I really like her spunky attitude.”

  I caught him eying me closely. I would venture to bet that he had been speculating the possibility that I was actually Melinda! All she’d have to do is not curl her hair; he’d never know. And if all the questions I asked weren’t convincing enough for him, the surprised look on my face would have revealed the truth. My mouth dropped open when he said they’d be out of town Saturday and Sunday – he and Lindy had planned a trip to Boston and hoped to return on Monday. I sat dismayed; she had not even bothered to tell me about it. This was serious; we are drifting apart. I supposed it was inevitable; we couldn’t expect to live together forever. But it made me sad.

 

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