by W.J. May
Chapter 7
Of all the Halloween themes, we got stuck with famous couples. Grace convinced Simon to go with her and she took charge of all our outfits. She bought a Spartacus costume for Michael and a Roman slave one for me. I’d come to trust her and she made me laugh with her charity shop and eBay shopping.
The night of the dance I sat in her bathroom on a stool, letting her curl my hair and pin it up. “Doesn’t Spartacus’s wife get murdered?”
She dropped the curling iron.
I swore she caught the hot part in her bare hand but didn’t even flinch.
Setting the curling iron on the counter, she grabbed a few bobby pins. “Aren’t all famous couples tragic?”
Her hand was obviously not burned. I pointed at her in the mirror. She was dressed as Fashion Fairy Tale Barbie. “I don’t think Barbie and Ken have a tragic ending.”
“Touché. But if Damon see’s the outfits, he might change that.” She giggled at my shocked looked in the mirror. “I’m just kidding. He’s the one who gave me the idea.” She pinned the last bobby pin in my hair. “Stand.”
We stared at my reflection. The faded grey-blue slave’s dress had tattered sleeves and hem but I was willing to bet, no slave ever wore a dress this formfitting. Grace had tied a black scarf around my waist for a belt. She’d bought the gorgeous pair of strappy sandals from a second-hand shop.
She traced her fingers along her collar bone. “Something’s missing.” Snapping her fingers, she disappeared out of the room.
I stared down at my red polished toe nails and leaned against the doorframe. Grace had found a gladiator costume on eBay in Michael’s size. The thought of his body in a fighter’s outfit created a tingling in my lower abdomen. I was willing to bet Spartacus had nothing on Michael. Hopefully I didn’t embarrass myself with staring, or even worse if I’d start salivating.
“Wear this.” Grace held something shiny in her hand. “It’s not a choker, but we can link the clasp on a shorter part of the chain and make it look like one.
The necklace, beautiful and obviously antique, was made of sterling and shone like Grace had just polished it. “I can’t wear that.”
“I know Roman slaves wore copper, but this is so perfect. It’s--”
“Too expensive.” My fingers had a will of their own and reached for the silver. The chain was cool, but the aged Celtic pendant had a unique feel. Heavy but…different. I couldn’t tell if it was hot or cold. I held it up to the light. The pendant turned out to actually be some sort of vial with a ruby inside. “Is this some kind of family heirloom?” I’m not wearing this -- my luck it belonged to Caleb’s mother.
“Just try it on.” Grace took it from my hand and clipped the chilly metal around my neck. Against my skin, the pendant gave me goose bumps but warmed instantly. How in the world did it do that?
“Don’t you look adorable, little sis,” Michael said sarcastically from the hall doorway. “Apparently your idea of tragedy is quite different than the rest of the worlds.”
Grace’s bouffant hairdo blocked my view of Michael’s face. A round shield covered his body, except for his bare legs and sandaled feet.
“Hardy-har-har.” Grace faked a girly laugh. “My shopping helped you though. You’re quite dashing.”
“Half naked in October? Don’t you th—” He froze as I stepped beside Grace.
Grace grinned, a wacky, I-got-you-good smile totally meant for her brother. “Come on, don’t look so serious. It’s Halloween! Let her be your slave for a night.”
Hot. Very hot. Muscles and flesh and metal everywhere. No wonder the Romans loved their gladiators. He could have been a god. However, the scowl on his face stopped me from sharing my thoughts.
He glanced back and forth between the two of us. His face then broke into a half-smile. “You do make a sexy slave.” He walked over and reached for the necklace’s pendant. It seemed to burn with his touch. His fingers cooled the skin against my collar and neck.
My breath caught. “This isn’t Caleb’s, is it?”
He chuckled. Leaning forward, he gave me a tender kiss on the forehead. “It’s definitely not Caleb’s.” He tucked a stray curl behind my ear.
My head spun. I wasn’t sure if it was from the moment as it seemed like something deeper than just words were being said, or if it was Michael’s close proximity, or the fact I’d forgotten to breathe.
Grace sighed quietly. I guess we should get going.”
We headed down the stairs. I stared at Michael’s almost bare back. Nice tight muscles, smooth skin with slightly protruding boney shoulders. The guy probably had zero body fat.
Sarah waited at the bottom with a digital camera. She snapped a photo and looked at the screen. “There’s a back flash from Rouge.” Sarah glanced up and stared at my neck, her eyes grew big. “Michael, did you put the Siorghra on her?” She sounded…almost hopeful.
I stopped on the second to last step. What the heck’s going on? These people seemed to be leaving half their sentences inside their heads. What’s a Senora, or whatever they called it? There was obviously some hidden meaning. More strange secrets. I intended to find out, after I knocked the necklace against the back of the head of Grace.
“Grace put it on.” Michael winked.
At me or Sarah? I couldn’t tell.
“It suits the outfit, doesn’t it?” Grace, grinning like a madman, finally spoke up.
“It looks gorgeous. Rouge looks gorgeous.” Sarah opened a closet door. “Sweety, take this scarf wrap, in case you get cold.” She held a sapphire blue scarf out to me.
“Thanks.” I wrapped the pretty scarf around my wrist not sure if I’d need it. Better to have it and not need it.
We drove to the school in Michael’s car. My gladiator would never ride in a tiny Smartcar. The music could be heard from the parking lot. I climbed out of the car, setting the scarf on top as I flipped the seat forward so Grace could crawl out.
We walked around the side of the school and found Simon leaning against the wall outside the gymnasium, dressed as Tuxedo Ken.
He grinned when he saw Grace. “It’s about time. I was beginning to think you were going to stand me up! Damon said—”
“He here?” Michael glanced around.
“Damon?” Simon’s eyebrow’s mashed together. “No, he had some family function or something.”
“Probably couldn’t find a date.” Grace whispered.
We headed inside. The gymnasium had been transformed. There were flickering lights set against the walls to look like fireplaces, roughly hand made tables and benches lined one side and students sat drinking, snacking and laughing. Painted brick patterns covered the walls and floors. A pair of thrones sat on the stage with stage. An ancient castle made to look present day. A big cauldron filled with fruit punch stood to the left of the stage.
“I’ll get us some drinks.” Michael gave my hand a light squeeze before disappearing into the crowd.
I shivered. The janitor had probably put the fans or air-conditioning on in the gym. Realizing I’d left the scarf on the hood of the car. I leaned toward Grace. “I’ll be right back.”
Jogging to the car, I hoped it hadn’t disappeared. It wasn’t on the top where I’d left it. Bending down, I looked under the car and frowned. Not there. I straightened and checked the top of the trunk and hood. The wind had blown it against the wiper and luckily it had caught on the end. I wrapped it over my shoulders.
I turned around to head back to the gym and nearly jumped out of my skin. Damon stood before me, his arms crossed tight over his chest.
“Sheesh. You scared me.” I swallowed. “I didn’t hear you come up.”
“Did you come with her? Simon said he was going as her flippin’—Ken.” He spat on the ground and then leaned forward, his pitch black eyes and hot breath smacked against my face like a slap. “I’m obviously concerned for his safety.”
This guy’s freaking nuts. “I’ve no clue what you’re talking about.” Was he drun
k? As I looked into his eyes to see the tell-tale red on white, Damon stepped back, like I terrified him.
“You are so going to burn in hell for this one. You think you can squirm your way into that family?”
He was crazy. “You’re the stupidest person I’ve ever met, and believe me I’ve met some real idiots.”
“Listen, bi--” he stopped mid-sentence and reached for my neck.
Jammed between him and the Mustang, I had nowhere to go. My hands curled into fists and rose by my neck, trying to protect it. Was he going to strangle me right in the school parking lot?
Instead, he stepped back again, pulling one hand back like I’d burned him. He swiped at my throat with the hand still in the air.
He’s trying to grab my necklace. I clutched the pendant, worried he’d lean in and rip it off.
Instead, he kept his distance, but the venom in his voice couldn’t be missed. “So help me, Rouge. If you ever come near me again, I’ll destroy you. I know exactly what their kind are. And I’m not alone. More know. Lots more.” He snorted, pointing at me. “Yeah, you tell your precious Michael that. Let him know we’re going to annihilate him.” He turned and ran off into the darkness.
He’s definitely crazy. I couldn’t move. I’d forgotten how to breathe. My brain told my body to walk back to the gym, to get there as fast as I could, but I stood frozen, clasping the pendant protectively in my hand.
“You okay? What’s taking so long?” Michael walked around the front of the car.
I jumped. Dazed, I stared at him. What had Damon meant about Michael’s kind. “I, um, left Sarah’s shawl on top of the car and came out to get it. D-Damon stopped by…” my voice trailed off.
“What?” Michael swung around, doing a three sixty. “Where’d he go?”
“I dunno.” I raised my hand and twirled my fingers and then snapped. “One moment he was here and the next, gone.” I stared into the darkness where Damon had disappeared.
“Let’s get outta here.” He unlocked the car doors.
I blinked, trying to focus. “We can’t just leave Grace.” Damon could go after her.
“I’ll let her know.”
“No. You wait here and I’ll ask Simon to drive Grace home.” I needed a moment to catch my breath and my nerves.
“I can – never mind.” He shook his head. “Go. I’ll make sure Damon’s sorry ass isn’t poking around.”
“I’ll be right back.” I sprinted off to the gym. My wobbly legs needed to run out the adrenalin stuck inside them.
Grace wasn’t hard to spot on the dance floor. She looked like she’d been expecting me. Simon seemed to be dancing on his own.
“Do you mind driving Grace home?” I asked him.
He replied before Grace had a chance. “Love to! What kind of Ken would I be?”
Grace shook her head, looking directly at me. “What’d he want?”
Did she mean Damon? I hadn’t mentioned a thing. I swallowed. Damon had taken off in the other direction. He wouldn’t come back tonight. “Michael and I just want to hang out.”
Simon put his hand up for a high five, which I slapped, not understanding why.
“You go, girl!”
“You’re still sleeping over, right?” Grace asked.
“Yeah, I’ll see you back at the house.” I gave her a hug and went to meet Michael waiting in the car.
We sat in silence as Michael drove. Staring absently out the window, I tried to figure out Damon’s weird behavior. Maybe he was on drugs. Maybe he had something wrong with the processes in his brain. The lack of cars and streetlights stopped my train of thought. A bluish hue covered everything from the bright night sky. “Where’re we going?”
“We have a cabin by the lake. I figured we could hang out there for a bit.” He let his foot off the gas. “That doesn’t sound right at all. We hit a Tim Horton’s.”
“Should I be scared?” I teased. “You’re taking me to a hidden cabin in the woods and next week will I be the front headlines in all the national papers?”
“Ha-ha.” He laughed sarcastically. “The place is like fifteen minutes away. I just thought it’d be easy to talk there. I go when I want some peace and quiet.”
“Then let’s go. We’re almost there now.” I trusted Michael and I had a few questions myself.
He flipped the blinker on and headed onto the exit. “It’s just a couple miles down the road from here.”
Ten minutes later he pulled onto a gravel lane. He drove the car easily through the dark forest. A cabin stood in the distance with a glass lake stretching behind it. The cabin was the kind you saw in those country magazines. Modern, with a vintage look but absolutely gorgeous. Michael, still in his Spartacus outfit and oblivious to the cool air, opened the door and switched lights on as I followed him in.
Simple shades of beige colored the walls, mixed in with wood and brown leather furniture. My gaze caught on the six tall windows facing the lake. The lack of style inside the cabin disappeared by staring out those windows.
“I’ll get a fire going.” He opened a brass ornately decorated box and started to toss the wood into the brick fireplace. He had the logs snapping and flames dancing in moments.
Taking my hand, he pulled me over to the couch.
My legs barely touched the leather, and he leaned in to kiss me.
I returned with frantic kisses while his hands roamed down my back, his fingers finding their way to rest along the spaces between my ribs, his nails scraping against my shirt. Everywhere he touched shocks of longing started on my skin and ran through my blood to my heart. I swear I was going to explode.
Groaning, Michael gently, but firmly, pushed me away. I didn’t want to stop, he tasted like I needed more of him. I leaned in to fill the space between us. The fire’s reflection danced against his bare shoulders.
“Rouge,” he whispered, “we need to talk. If you keep doing this, we’re not going to get anywhere.”
“I really don’t have anything important to say.” If we talked, something would change. Don’t know why I knew it, but I did. Couldn’t I just have this moment -- for like ten minutes?
“Rouge.” The warning tone in his voice made me straighten and watch him. He was right. We needed to talk.
Michael stared into the fire, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbing his hands together. He sat quiet, both of us trying to catch our breath.
Finally, he sighed. “What did Damon want?”
I shrugged. “He doesn’t like your family much.”
Michael sat rigid. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“It was stupid. Total loser. He acted all worried about Simon. Then he looked at me like I scared him.” I paused, waiting for Michael to stop clenching and unclenching his hands. “The guy's psycho. I thought he was going to steal the necklace.”
Michael inhaled and exhaled loudly, his nostrils flaring.
Something about Damon’s comments gnawed at me. I tapped a finger against the top of my knee, not sure if I should ask Michael or just ignore Damon’s useless babble. Honesty or nothing. I took a deep breath. “He said he knows what you are. What the heck’s he talking about? Is Caleb part of some sort of mafia?”
Michael snickered then covered his mouth. “Sorry. That was rude of me. Trying to picture Caleb eating spaghetti like some TV mafia-guy...” He shook his head. “If you knew Caleb, you’d get it.” He moved, and shifted me as well, so we sat facing each other. He took my hands and rested them on his knees, laying his on top.
More strange talk. Maybe there was something wrong with the water here. I pulled a hand out of Michael's and touched the pendant. “What is this necklace?”
Ignoring my question, Michael stared at the window behind me. “Damon knows what the pendant stands for. He knows who we are.” He removed his hands from mine and began picking his perfectly clean fingernails.
Why the sudden nervousness? “What?” I’d get answers tonight, if I had to shake them out of him. “Whose necklace is t
his?”
“Mine,” he whispered, not looking up.
I slid the pendant along the chain. Not really a surprise, is it? “What’s inside?”
“Blood…my human blood.”
Wha-? I didn’t expect that as a reply. The pendant dropped with a clunk against my chest. “If it’s you’re blood, why wouldn’t it be human?”
Michael rubbed his face. “It’s complicated. Grace has one as well. We all do. It’s called a Siorghra.”
“Siar—a what?” Crazy alert -- again. Get out of the cabin and start running through the forest. Nah, you know what happens in horror movies. I ignored my own warning, too curious about the necklace and what Michael might say. I held my tongue, waiting for Michael to wrestle with whatever demons he was fighting and explain what on earth he was talking about.
“The Siorghra was created as a link. It’s Gaelic, a term for eternal love. Sarah and Caleb wear each others. Once on, it can never come off.”
I reached for the pendant. I’d be wearing this for the rest of my life? “What! Never?”
“I didn’t put it on you, so it can be taken off.” Michael sighed. “I meant it won’t fall off or be broken unless specific things happen.”
“Like what?”
“I have to put it on you, it’s my blood.”
Freaky—but kind of romantic at the same time. “You’re sister’s pretty gutsy.”
“Yeah, she likes pushing me when she can.” He chuckled and relaxed. They obviously had sibling affection I’d never experienced.
“Is this something Caleb’s family created?”
“In a way.”
I hated how he was answering my questions with bits and pieces. Sighing, I blew the bangs away from my forehead. “What’s going on? You want to talk, but you’re not really telling me anything.”
Michael pushed off the couch and began pacing in front of the fire. His costume clinked and sparkled against the flickering light. I kind of hoped it would irritate him and he’d pull the top off. He paced back and forth about ten times. Just when I was about to suggest we head back, he began talking.
“That—” He pointed to the pendant on my neck “—is the last bit of me that still holds life.”
“What?”
He stopped pacing. “I’m not who you think I am.”
Ah, double crapper. I didn’t know what was going on, but after seeing that beast a few months back nothing would seem unbelievable. “You acted all scared about the book I got, but then got ticked when I asked if you were one of those Grawlics.” I started laughing, the nervousness inside of me escaping.
“Grollics,” he corrected. “I’m not one. We are in no way related. But… we are the same in a sense.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was.” He sat down beside me.
The sadness in his eyes tore little bits off my heart. “What’re you trying to tell me?”
He stared at the necklace. His eyes were bright blue against the reflection of the fire, almost aqua-green in color. “I’m not like you...anymore.”
I couldn’t get my head around this conversation. “It doesn’t make any sense. You said this is your blood.”
His eyes closed. “Grace and I, we were…like you… about a hundred and forty years ago. The man I knew as my father wasn’t my… my biological father. Grace and I never knew.”
This was jacked up. “What happened?”
“Our…My mother was raped before she married my father. On the day of their wedding, just before they took their vows. She never told us, we learned about it after her death.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s awful.” What a secret to carry. “Maybe your dad really was your father.” I felt I was grasping at straws. “You know, fifty-fifty chance.”
“No,” he spoke sharply. “Mother was raped by someone you could never imagine.”
“What do you mean?” I couldn’t believe I was actually having this conversation, and believing it.
“You know those Greek mythology stories about the gods coming down and having children with humans?”
My eyes grew huge. “You’re the son of Zeus?”
“No.” He shook his head and dragged his fingers through his hair. “Shit! I’m screwing everything up. I was trying to use it as a comparison. The Greeks used these folklore stories because they are partially true, they just got the heavenly participants mixed up.” He waited, obviously wanting me to guess.
“Okay,” I said slowly. “You’re a soul returned back to earth. Or, you’re living some reincarnated life?”
“No. I’m part…” He began pacing again.
Something clicked in the back of my mind. “Angel?”
“Sort of.” He threw his hands in the air. “This is so hard to explain. Grace used to joke about angels, saying we were distant third cousins, once removed.”
“An angel raped your mother?” That didn’t make sense. Impossible.
“I know what you’re thinking, but not all angels are good. They come from both ends of the spectrum. We’re not angels. My mother was not an angel. We still don’t know the entire process or what exactly created us. We think it may have something to do with fallen ones but aren’t completely sure. One thing for sure, Caleb is different than us.”
“Caleb’s one, too?” This was unbelievable.
“We all are. Sarah found Grace and me. She met Caleb later and they gave each other their Siorghra.” He tapped his head, as if trying to knock out a noise.
I thought about how similar Sarah, Grace and Michael looked with their tanned skin. Except Caleb’s so… so dark. Well, he was pale, but he seemed… I didn’t know. Maybe he came from the bad guys. The only thing he had in common was –“You all have blue eyes.” So they’re some kind of immortal.
Michael’s brows went up in surprise. “Grace and I had brown. They turned blue when we died.”
“What? Dead?” I rubbed the heel of my palm against my forehead. “Slow down a bit. I think I’m missing something here.”
He sighed. “Grace and I didn’t know until we were killed.”
Killed?