"Sounds good," she replied.
Nick was still about eight hours ahead, on Italy time. He yawned as they talked, and as they ate their takeout together on the couch. After dinner, they curled up on the couch together. Nick lay along side of her, with his head at her chest. He traced his finger along her waist and around her belly button, drawing patterns on her tummy. "I missed you."
"I missed you too," she said, carelessly running her fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry you didn't find what you were looking for."
He half shrugged. "Maybe I wasn't meant to."
"What were you looking for?" she asked.
He flattened his hand across her tummy. "I'll tell you if you want to know — if you really want to know. But it probably won't be easy for you to hear."
"Is it worse than aliens and a disappearing child?"
"Yes." He met her eyes. "Much worse."
She took a breath. "Tell me."
"Every religion has its version of the beast," he said. "In Ange culture it's called an Angemon."
Angemon. The word gave her chills, and caused goose bumps to alight on her arms.
"It's okay." Nick soothed, running his hand down the length of her arm and kissing the inside of her wrist. "It's okay. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
"No. Tell me. I want to hear."
"All the research I've been doing, my work for the Ange, has been trying to find a way to keep it from destroying us. Beyond just run and hide and hope. Everyone's been hoping to find that magic bullet — a silver bullet maybe, a stake through the heart, whatever — but there's no cut and dried rules to these monsters."
"Monsters?" she asked trying to keep the tone of incredulity out of her voice as best she could.
"I know how it sounds," he sighed. "I'm only telling you because you asked. And because I'm tired of keeping things from you — you don't have to believe me."
"No, I want to hear," she traced her fingers through his hair. "Tell me."
"This particular monstrosity was allowed life almost twenty-one years ago, representing the epitome of selfishness." He huffed. "There were those that tried to... manage the situation while it was still an infant but they failed and the thing has been in hiding now for years. Probably in Europe, tucked away in some remote castle being waited upon. Placated."
"Manage the situation?" Jen interrupted him as her stomach turned. "You mean kill it, don't you?"
"I know how that sounds," he sat up and looked at her.
"It sounds like you're condoning killing an infant," she tried and failed to keep the anger out of her voice.
"Imagine finding a venomous, aggressive, spider in the house. Would you kill it?" Nick asked.
"Maybe, but—"
"Would you stop to consider it's age?"
"It's not the same thing," she countered.
"Angemon are monsters, Jen."
"What, like a scaly, fanged..."
"No. This monster can look human when it wants to. That's the truly terrifying part." Nick sighed, frustrated. "This thing has been closeted away for twenty years, and in all those years there have been reports from Ange and Star Souls that have been tormented by it. They've seen the ghoulish form it takes — even as an infant — terrorizing and threatening to destroy them and all that they love."
She shivered. It was a familiar tale. One she was having a hard time writing off as mere coincidence. She sat up and curled her knees up to her chest and hugged them.
"I'm sorry," Nick scooted close and wrapped a comforting arm around her. "I didn't mean to freak you out." He took hold of her hand and kissed her fingers.
"You didn't freak me out," she said softly. "It did."
Nick looked momentarily confused. "You've seen it, haven't you?" he realized.
"Hollow eyes," she started.
"Hollow mouth," Nick nodded.
"But mostly, it's his voice..."
"Yeah," Nick nodded. "It comes in dreams."
"Nightmares, really."
"It wont stay hidden in dreams forever, this thing. Imagine what it would do if it were allowed out of it's hiding place. That's why we have to find a way to escape it, or destroy it."
A surge of heat coursed through her. She understood now. Her thoughts were heavy as she tried not to think about it. She fell into his arms and buried her head against his chest. He kissed the top of her head, comforting her, and held her tightly in his arms.
Jet-lag finally caught up with Nick and he fell asleep. An old movie that was playing on the television ended as sleep began to beckon Jen as well. She reached for the remote and switched the TV off. Her movement stirred Nick and he opened his eyes.
"We should go to bed," she smiled at him.
He took her hand in his and escorted her to her bedroom door. "Nice," he commented on her décor choices. "Goodnight." He kissed her, and then shuffled down the hall to his room. It felt good to have him near again. The big yellow house felt like a home again.
Peaches was already curled up, purring, at the foot of the bed. She opened her eyes and watched Jen for a moment then went back to her purring, slightly louder than before. Jen pulled off everything constrictive and climbed into bed. She pulled the covers up over her shoulder and curled up with a pillow in her arms. She was exhausted, but sleep would not take her.
Maybe it was a fallacy or wishful thinking, but she felt safe as she drifted in his arms. Alone in her room all she felt was... alone... vulnerable and exposed.
She got out of bed, slipped into her black nightgown, with the lace edging and pulled on her red satin robe.
She stopped just outside the double doors with columns on either side that was the entrance to his room. It felt very grand. She started to second-guess herself. It felt childish to want to climb into bed with him to hide herself from monsters.
"Nick?" she knocked softly.
There was no response.
Maybe he was sleeping. Maybe he hadn't heard her. Maybe she should just go back to her own room, her own bed.
Peaches mewed at her feet and brushed up against her legs. She looked up at Jen, and then to the door, expectantly.
Jen nodded, took a deep breath, grasped the handle and opened the door.
The room was tastefully decorated in warm browns, worn blacks and reds. Her jewelry box would match perfectly in here as well.
Peaches trotted happily across the room and leapt onto the end of the bed. Jen followed.
Nick was sound asleep. She watched his beautiful form, breathing in and out, his eyes darting about behind his lids, deep inside a dream.
She pulled the covers back and climbed in beside him. She reached to touch his hand. He smiled, waking just enough to lace his fingers through hers, pull her close to him, and wrap his arm around her frame, before drifting back to sleep.
She traced the star on his chest, happy to be in his arms and slipped peacefully to sleep.
Chapter 25
The Next Level
Nick was still asleep when she woke up. He probably needed a little extra sleep to regulate his internal clock.
She went for a run, showered, and dressed — it was unseasonably cold that day, so she'd decided to go with jeans and her blue baby doll top. She finished the look with the star necklace Nick had given her.
She finished the laundry, started a pot of coffee and had started making eggs for breakfast when she heard the door to Nick's office close.
He was on the phone.
She could just make out his voice. There was something calming to her in hearing his voice in undulating soft currents of sound, drifting on the air.
Roger preceded Nick's entrance into the kitchen. He leapt up onto the counter and watched her intently as she cracked eggs into a bowl.
Nick was rubbing his chin, as he entered the kitchen. He looked confused and troubled.
"Morning," she greeted him.
"Mmmm, morning," he returned. He stood across the kitchen and watched her scramble eggs, while he mindlessly ran his hand ac
ross his chin, lost in some thought.
"You okay?"
He let out a long breath. "I have to go somewhere today. A meeting. You know, to report on everything I found — or didn't find, in this case. I may be back tonight, maybe tomorrow. It's the entire Ange counsel, Marcus is on his way to pick me up."
"You just got back," she pouted.
"I know," he related then changed the subject. "Did you come get in bed with me last night or was I dreaming that?"
"I was there." She plated the eggs. "Is that okay?"
"Yes it's okay." A huge smile broke across his face as he crossed to her. "That's very okay." He pulled her into his arms. "I'm thinking, maybe we could make it a permanent thing. And maybe we could take our relationship to that next, or maybe its just other level?"
"I could live with that," she smiled.
His lips met hers. It felt like the temperature in the room rose by five degrees in the passion of his kiss. "I love you Nicholas Grace," she met his beautiful jeweled eyes. "Now and always. I am yours."
A look of panic crossed his face, and then a smile crept across in its wake. "Did you know that's part of an Ange wedding ceremony?" he searched her face.
"Is it?" She shrugged. "I didn't know. It just... felt right." She blushed.
He traced the strand of silver across her collarbone. His touch made her breathing heavy. He stopped briefly at the star shaped pendant, tracing his finger around its edges. "Well, you've got the diamond."
She gasped. "I knew it was a diamond. I told you it was too much—"
He bent his head and kissed the pendant.
Her breath caught in her chest as though all the butterflies had suddenly flapped their tiny wings all at once. She was pretty sure she had been saying something... but she couldn't think of what it was now.
All she could think of was Nick. He was kissing her. Tracing the sliver strand around her neck with his kisses.
"It's not too much," he whispered. He slid his hand along the small of her back and pulled her closer to him. "I wanted to give you the stars." His eyes met hers. "I love you." He looked like he was trying to say more, but couldn't, like he was having trouble wrapping his mouth around the words. He sighed then said, "Now and always, I am yours." He kissed her softly.
A purring mew from the counter brought her attention back to something she'd forgotten. "The eggs—"
They turned to see both Roger and Peaches sitting on the counter, happily licking their chops over what had been a plate of eggs.
"So you want some toast?" Nick offered her.
Chapter 26
The Numbing Charade
Jen kept to the kitchen when Marcus arrived. Nick kissed her good-bye before he left to answer the door.
She wasn't trying to listen but she couldn't help but overhear some of their conversation as they were talking louder than normal since Marcus stayed near the front door, and Nick was in his office gathering things.
"So what's the rush?" Nick started, "I thought they'd at least give me a couple of days to process a report."
"First, I thought it was all David... He thinks someone's going to try and make a run on Royal Crown, and thinks that during the counsel meeting on the twenty-first would be the perfect opportunity." He chuckled.
"Well, yeah." Nick laughed. "But come on, where's the trust?"
"Yeah. Then Dory tells me that Iona and Janssen are bringing crazy Paisley, he's been talking Armageddon or some shit to get their panties in a twist."
Nick scoffed. "I can't believe they would even consider listening to that fraud."
"Yeah, well... Damn it's cold." Marcus said as he pulled the front door shut behind them.
She had mixed feelings about their rapport. It was odd to hear Marcus be so... friendly.
Marcus and friendly, in the same thought, the same sentence, hell, the same paragraph even. She couldn't quite make the computation work. It was nice to see that he had the ability to be cordial, but the fact that she'd never witnessed it before and that nothing even close to it had ever been directed at her, made her uneasy. It wasn't fair for Nick to have to be in the middle of their hatred for each other, or to make Nick have to decide between them.
Brett had given her the day off to spend with Nick, but now that he was going to be gone, it didn't make much sense for her to stay at home.
She was just headed up the stairs when she heard the shattering of glass on the hardwood floor in Nick's office.
"Roger," she sighed, as she pushed open Nick's office door to find Roger, perched on the edge of the desk, enjoying the last few bites of Nick's toast.
She plucked him off the desk and took him into the kitchen. "How are you still hungry after having all those eggs?" She set him on the floor, and retrieved the broom and dustpan.
She hadn't seen the full extent of the damages until she rounded the desk. The plate had not been the only casualty. Lying upside down amidst the shards of glass was a small wooden box, she was sure it was the one she'd seen Nick holding the night of her fiery nightmare.
She lifted it carefully from the wreckage, but didn't have enough of a hold on the lid. It flipped open and spilled the contents as she lifted it.
Of all the expected or unexpected things that she could have ever imagined might be in the box, no guess could ever have come close to what she saw.
The shock of it took her breath away and she fell back onto her butt. The room was spinning. The box fell from her hand, and landed on its base just in front of her.
The lid held a wood inlay of a grouping of six stars clustered around a seventh larger one in the center. The Aeon. Forget a subtle twinge, she was pretty sure she could feel the outline of each individual star that was etched across her back. But this sight was nothing compared to what had fallen from the box, a small golden star, and a gold key with an ornate head.
She could feel her temperature rise.
The sobbing tears came next. Pouring out of her in violent streams. Begging her to see the truth, while equally pleading with her to deny it.
Genevieve.
She could feel the awareness, but its expansion stayed within her. She could feel the pressure of it building, twisting and contorting itself as it compacted and pressed against the tiny walls of her being.
She reached for the star. It leapt from the floor into her hand, glowing bright white as it did. That seemed like the kind of thing that should bother her, but she couldn't quite wrap her head around the reality of it. Maybe it wasn't reality. Maybe she had fallen into another nightmare.
She grabbed the key with her other hand. She was aware of standing, moving out of the office and up the stairs, but she couldn't be sure if she was walking, or running.
She wrenched the bottom drawer out of the dresser and pulled her blue purse free. She dumped its contents, scattering them about onto the floor to find the gold key with the ornate head that Quincy had given her so many months before.
She held them up beside each other; they were almost an exact match. Almost. There was something slightly different about the two. She placed the head of her key atop of the other. They were mirrors of each other.
How was this possible? None of it made even the slightest bit of sense. How had Nick come to possess not just the key, that her contact was supposed to have, but also the glowing star that she had only seen in a dream?
She wasn't dreaming now, was she? No. She gripped the glowing star in her hand, remembering how it had felt pressed between her hand and Xavier's. It was real. Somehow, it had all been real.
She thought of what Nick had told her about the disappearing boy — that Ange could project themselves, and that to him, seeing her was like a dream. She felt like she was going to be sick. She didn't want to even consider what it meant — not now — not ever.
Her eyes caught sight of familiar words scribbled on the back of an envelope.
I'm sorry I couldn't stay.Be safe. Don't wait for me.
X
She stared at the words f
or a long moment then decided to take Xavier's advice again. She grabbed Nick's hoodie off of the railing, and shoved the glowing star and the two keys into her pockets. Something scratchy caught the edge of her wrist as she slipped into the hoodie. An involuntary shudder — not from the cold — ran through her with the realization that she knew exactly what it was — dried blood from a paper cut — but she couldn't bring herself to look.
She took a breath and stepped off the porch; her next step was at full speed.
She wasn't sure where she was going, all she knew was that she had to get away, had to escape before the strange pull of Nicholas Grace made her change her mind.
She ran, turning, rather than slowing her pace when the traffic impeded her defection. Stopping only once she reached the safety of shade trees at an unfamiliar park.
She had to think. She had to figure out what was happening, or at least what she needed to do next. She pulled the keys from her pocket. Quincy had thought they were to a safety deposit box. But where?
Did Nick know?
She tried to remember if she'd ever heard Nick mention the name of a bank. She couldn't think of a single time.
But he only had one key. The only hope of getting whatever was inside the box was to either have both keys, or to break in and steal it. What on earth could be that important? Could be worth that much?
What was it that Marcus had said? 'David thinks someone's going to try and make a run on Royal Crown.'
'Well yeah,' Nick had said as if to confirm the obviousness of the assumption.
She shuddered at the idea that Nick could be capable of grand larceny. That wasn't the Nick she knew. Whatever was in that box must be very important.
Her mind couldn't help but flash to an aged chest, filled with treasured, yet basically worthless trinkets.
Xavier knew he was in danger, and that she was in danger as well, 'Be safe. Don't wait for me.'
It would have been just as easy for Xavier to drop his key into her purse — but he didn't. Maybe he thought he'd make it out okay. Maybe he didn't think the keys should be together.
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