***
The next day I left my apartment in a hurry, nearly late for work. Ugh, I had never been this disorganized before. I was usually the most punctual, ordered, and responsible person. Now, I was a jumble of messy thoughts and goals. I wanted to get on with my life, to make it to the end of a normal day like a normal person with normal problems.
When Micah stepped in front of me, I realized my normal day would have to wait. The air swept out of my lungs. With thoughts of Victor consuming my energy, I had forgotten about Micah and how gorgeous he was.
Like some dark stallion, he was dressed in black, except for the T-shirt, which was white. Black pants, boots, and leather jacket. Added that combination to his endless ebon eyes, jet hair, full lips, and tanned skin. I wondered if he was real at all. Like Victor, he was too handsome to be true. Perhaps he was another trick of my mind, another hallucination sent to haunt me and make my legs tremble.
“What do you want?” I asked, walking past him. Why did I become irritable every time he was near me?
“What? Can’t I just want to see you?” With his long strides, it didn’t take him more than three seconds to catch up with me.
“Last time I checked, no,” I snapped. Poor guy, I was releasing my anger and frustration on him. Was it because I was mad that real-life Victor wouldn’t give me the attention Micah did? Mad because I wanted the attention to come from Victor, not Micah?
Micah grinned slyly. “Come on, you must know you’re beautiful enough to make a guy want to see you again.”
I skidded to a stop. “What? Is that a joke?”
He stepped toward me, closing the gap between us, and ran his fingers over my cheek, taking my breath away. An ice-cold shock came with his touch, but it was much fainter this time. I shivered and realized he was taking advantage of my vulnerability to make contact with my skin.
I pulled away. “Back off!”
He was laughing, but, oh God, he was so sexy when he laughed. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”
“I knew it.” I stomped on. “You’re after my touch.”
He fell into step with me easily. “Will you stop running from me?”
I didn’t answer him. Instead, I asked, “Why do you need to touch me?” I kept my gaze fixed ahead.
“I’ve told you. You’re too beautiful to resist.”
“Cut the crap.” I halted and faced him. “If you’re not gonna give me real answers, then leave me alone.”
“Well.” He raised his hand as if he were going to touch my face again, but gave up and buried his hand inside the pocket of his jacket. “I just wanted to see you.”
My heart skipped a beat. “No. You want my touch.”
He leaned closer, his intoxicating scent making me dizzy, and whispered, “That wasn’t the only reason.”
My throat was suddenly dry. My pulse accelerated. It was impossible to resist him. “Here.” I extended my hand, curiosity corroding my stomach. I wanted to find out if the touch of our hands would bring that bizarre effect again.
For a second, his black eyes shone with surprise. But soon eagerness took over, and he clasped my hand. The icy shock that returned with the contact made me gasp. I watched him close his eyes and tilt his head back. I was hallucinating again, wasn’t I? How could a person touch another and—I don’t know—gain energy from it? Drink from it? Feel better because of it?
I hadn’t thought of this before. Victor said my touch made his pain go away. Was this what happened to Micah, too?
He released my hand. “Thank you.”
“What does it help you with?” I asked, the wheels in my mind starting to function. “Pain? Is that it? You feel constant pain, and my touch relieves it?”
His eyes bugged. “I—” He closed his mouth. “How do you know?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I resumed walking toward the café, Micah by my side. No more stomping now that he’d told me the truth.
He shrugged, his hands inside his pockets. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”
I laughed out loud. “Oh no. That’s not even close to craziness in my dictionary.”
He smiled at me. A true smile. “You should laugh more.” Then he sighed, returning to his somber mood. “Not just pain,” he continued. “Your touch also helps with queasiness.”
“Are you sick?” I touched his arm, worried.
He glanced at my hand on his arm and showed me his sly grin. Self-conscious and flushing, I pulled my hand back.
“I don’t think I’m sick. If I was, wouldn’t I feel aches and nausea all the time? It comes and goes without reason. And there are times it’s so intense, I can’t get up.”
So that was what had happened with Victor. He had crumpled to the ground because of this intense pain. But what was it? How could both of them feel the same thing?
Now I was super curious. “Does something trigger it?”
“Not that I have noticed.”
“Who else besides me can relieve your pain?”
“No one. I’ve never thought it was possible to lessen the aches.” His smile widened, and he halted then continued, “Until I met you.”
I stared into his eyes, hypnotized. “What?”
“We’re here.” He motioned behind me.
I turned around. The heat of embarrassment flushed my cheeks. We had arrived at the café, and I never noticed. Should I invite him in? I wanted to. He was a charming guy who actually wanted to talk to me. Dreamy.
A knock on the glass behind me snapped me out of it. Adam. He pointed to his wristwatch and glared.
“Well, see you later,” Micah said. He took my hand and kissed my palm, his eyes on mine the whole time.
I felt hot again. “See you,” I muttered. He released my hand, bowed, and started walking away.
I stood there, watching his perfect form grow smaller and smaller, my mind so lost.
Another knock on the glass made me jump. I didn’t even turn to see Adam glaring at me. I entered the café, my mind divided between warm thoughts of Micah and cold moments with Victor.
Chapter Eleven
“I have an appointment with my advisor now,” I told Raisa after we left class. I hated summer semester. I was taking only three classes, but because of the intense workload, they seemed like eight. “I’ll meet you at home after my shift?”
“Yup,” she answered, returning to the gossiping Martha and Susan.
Shaking my head, I hurried toward the science building. Despite the craziness going on with my life, exams were coming up and I needed to study. Besides, keeping my mind busy helped a little in stopping my pervasive worry that I was a lunatic.
I was about to knock on the door of my advisor’s office when it opened and Victor emerged, startling me. He looked amazing in faded jeans and a dark blue NYU sweatshirt—sending my heart into overdrive—even if the look was too casual to match the Victor of my visions.
With my hand over my chest, trying to slow down my sudden irregular breathing pattern, I whispered, “What are you doing here?”
Frowning, he closed the door behind him. “It’s none of your business.”
Ouch. Okay, so maybe that was going too far. I opened my mouth to yell at him, frustrated with his constant cold shoulder, when I realized his green eyes were staring at me not only in anger but also in pain. “You’re hurting again, aren’t you?”
“Excuse me,” he muttered between gritted teeth. He pushed past me and marched away.
“Wait.” I followed him, keeping up with his fast pace and hoping the few students walking by didn’t notice our quarrel. “I can help. I think.”
“Just leave me alone.” His voice was strained, and he put his hand over his chest. “I need to go.”
“No,” I shouted, stepping right in front of him and preventing him from bolting.
With labored breathing, he leaned against the wall beside us. “Get out of my way,” he groaned. “I need to go now.”
I reached for him and he shoved my arm back, but this time I was
n’t going to let him boss me around. “Stop it. Let me help you before you pass out.”
Before I could reach for him again, he sank down to the cold floor, panting and trembling, his skin paler than usual.
Kneeling in front of him, I picked up his hand. His eyes went wide as a warm jolt built up behind my fingers and spread from my skin to his. Seconds later, his breathing was back to normal. His pulse had evened out. Slowly, he stood, smoothed his jeans, and ran a hand through his messy golden hair.
“Wh-what did you do?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what it is. I just know what it does.”
“What are you?” He folded his arms, hands tucked in his armpits. “Are you some kind of witch? A druid?”
I couldn’t help laughing. “Really? Do you believe in that stuff?”
“Well, not really. But I don’t have another explanation for what you just did.”
“Welcome to the club. I have no idea how it works or what exactly it is.”
“But you knew my pain would go away if you touched me.” It wasn’t a question.
“I thought it would. You were the one who told me it had happened before.”
“I did,” he muttered.
With wary eyes, he kept staring at me. I wouldn’t get anywhere with him like this. He seemed ready to jet. I wouldn’t be the one clinging to him and begging for him to listen to me. Besides, what could I tell him? That I knew all about him and that he wasn’t precisely as great as I wanted him to be? Crazy, huh?
I couldn’t believe I was about to walk away from him, but I knew I had to. I needed to test him, to play hard-to-get, to see what his reaction would be. Besides, I remembered my meeting.
“Well, I guess I need to be going.” I gestured toward the door of my advisor’s office a few feet behind us.
He frowned. “Yeah, right.”
I wanted to say goodbye, to tell him to look for me every time he felt unwell, to give him my cell phone number and much more. But I didn’t.
After taking a deep breath, I turned and left.
***
Bright sunlight blinded me for a moment. When my eyes adjusted, I found myself once again at the crystal path, facing the omnipotent crystal palace. It had changed though. Dark clouds surrounded the tallest towers, and its shine wasn’t clear anymore—now it was a dull purple.
I followed the path, wondering what I would see this time.
Unafraid, I entered the palace. I doubted whoever was inside could see me. This vision felt like one of the ghost type, similar to how it had felt the last time I’d been here, an eerie crawl in my skin and the sensation that I was swimming among clouds.
I wasn’t afraid of being found, but I became scared and anxious once I saw the interior. The crystal thrones were still there but some were broken, the reflecting pool was almost empty, and the flowerbeds among the thrones held dead stems that added to the putrid stench filling the space.
I recognized Imha, with her too-long flowing black hair, sprawled over Levi’s throne, holding one of those poisonous sticks in one hand and her purple topped stave in the other. Behind her, huge viscid, winged creatures stood nearby, their heads bent low, apparently waiting for her.
Shortly, she stood up and, spinning the dart on her fingers, strode menacingly toward the nasty creatures.
“You dare come back without her?” Her voice was thin and cruel. A chill ran down my spine.
The creatures shrieked. I guessed they weren’t capable of speaking.
“It isn’t entirely their fault,” Omi said, entering the room. Like before, he looked filthy and crass with his scruffy brown hair and goatee. His red-orbed stave shone brightly on his hand. “She’s smart and doesn’t remain in the same place for too long.” He halted before Imha and bowed.
Who the hell were they talking about? Who was she?
“I don’t care!” Imha bellowed. The palace shook. “She’s been hiding for thirty years! How is that possible?” Omi opened his mouth to speak, but she charged him, the dart in her hand poised to strike. Her stark stare gave me goose bumps.
“I don’t want to hear any more excuses,” she hissed. “Find her and kill her. Aren’t you the god of war? Prove it! Bring on the worst war the world ever saw. Cause her to surrender. She won’t stand that. After all, she is the goddess of love and family. She can’t bear humans suffering.”
Imha let go of Omi and he retreated.
“Why is she so important to you?” he asked. “She’s gone, and I doubt she wants to come back. Besides, the last time I confronted her, she seemed weaker. She’s no threat.”
“She’s planning something.” She sat back down on Levi’s throne. “I can feel it.”
He shrugged. “If you say so.”
“What are you waiting for?” she snapped, spitting rage with her words. “Go! Go find her! Kill her. Bring me her scepter.”
Omi bowed and left as Imha laughed—a hysterical laughter that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.
That was when the palace walls started melting and fading, along with everything else, taking away the surroundings and replacing them with my familiar room.
I was seated in my lilac armchair, quaking and dizzy, my biology book on my lap. I sucked in ragged breaths.
Holy hell, what was that? Gods wanting to kill more gods? My head was spinning and I couldn’t think clearly.
What had been the meaning of that vision? If it had any meaning at all. I snapped the biology book shut. I was getting tired of this. I had to do something, to look for help. It was difficult for me to accept, but if I were hallucinating, it would be better for me and everyone around me if I sought assistance.
I stood, picked up my cell phone, and called Cheryl. She cared about me. She’d help. The phone rang, but nobody answered. I left a message for her to call me as soon as she could, then I got out my laptop to shoot her an email.
I was surprised to find one already sent by her in my inbox.
Hi, Nad. I had to go to Chicago to meet with some associates. I’ll be back soon. BTW, if you ever change your mind about talking to someone about your tuning out episodes, I left a business card in your nightstand drawer. Take care, XOXO. Cher.
I blew out a breath, disappointed. Cheryl traveled all the time, going to Chicago, Philadelphia, Los Angeles, and other major cities, but she always took my calls or answered my emails. I knew I shouldn’t take her email personally, but I felt even more alone now than I had before.
My cell phone rang, and the caller ID identified Raisa. I took the call and heard her excited voice come over the line. “You have to come here right now! Olivia and I are at Washington Square. Victor is here with his friends.”
Against my wishes, my heart throbbed and my stomach knotted.
“The square is being set up for the carnival on Saturday,” Raisa continued. “Some are helping and some are watching.” She giggled, and I already understood what her part in it was.
I glanced toward my unopened drawer, where the card of someone who could help me with my insanity awaited me. Well, the card wouldn’t go anywhere. Victor, however, wouldn’t stay at the square for too long.
“Be right there,” I told her, excitement bubbling inside me. I disconnected, went to my closet to change into more suitable clothing, then left my apartment to see the man of my dreams. Or my reality.
Chapter Twelve
I found Olivia and Raisa at the park, seated on a wooden bench, observing the commotion going on around them.
“You clean up nicely,” Raisa teased me.
I flushed and stuck my tongue out at her. I’d tried not to go overboard since we were hanging out at the park. I’d chosen tight dark blue jeans, a thin white sweater, and matching beige boots and purse. Plus, I had combed my hair until it shone and applied black mascara to accentuate my dark green eyes.
I sat beside them. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing much,” Olivia answered. “The graduate students are running around like crazy setting up the
stands and organizing the games. We’re laughing and gossiping.”
I rolled my eyes.
“He was there a few minutes ago.” Raisa pointed toward a white stand not too far from where we were. “I think it’s where you can donate blood.”
I nodded and remained quiet, my hands pressed hard against my thighs to stop their trembling from spreading through my whole body.
The girls fell into easy conversation—and gossip—while I scanned the surroundings, looking for Victor.
Twenty minutes later, there was still no sign of him.
“I guess he isn’t coming back,” I said, my spirit sinking. I turned to the girls. “Thanks, though, for calling me.”
“It’s okay, Nad.” Raisa patted my hand. “We know you would have done the same for us.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I sure would.”
“I’m glad to know that,” Olivia said. “But you shouldn’t move. He’s back and he just saw you.” I froze. My heart flipped as she watched something past my shoulder with a smile. “Don’t turn yet. Keep talking to us as if you didn’t know he was here.”
“Okay,” I whispered, feeling my palms sweating. “At least tell me what he’s doing.”
“Staring at you,” Raisa said, pretending to scan around nonchalantly.
“He is?”
Olivia nodded. “Yeah. I think he’s trying to focus on helping out, but every few seconds he glances at you.”
“Oh God.” I was shaking. Raisa held my hand. “What do I do? Should I wave if our eyes meet?” I felt like I was thirteen again. Getting mushy over a guy. But this was Victor. Or at least the real-world equivalent of Victor.
“I dunno.” Olivia stood. “How is it when you two meet?”
“Good question. It was weird,” I said, hoping to deviate from the topic. “We’ve never had an actual conversation. Mostly, we snap at each other.”
“Really?” Her brows moved up. “’Cause the way he’s looking at you, I would say he’s at least curious about you.”
Curious might be the right word. After all, I could weirdly lessen his pain and dizzy spells with a simple touch. But curiosity wasn’t good enough.
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