Wickedly They Dream

by Cathrina Constantine

  She snorted and turned to her angel. “Where’ve you been? I—”

  “You need to go to your mother’s,” Markus broke in.

  “Did something happen?”

  “Ezekiel said you should go to her. There’s something you have to see with your own eyes. It’s not life threatening, at least not yet.”

  “Is it the baby?” she asked, not disguising the alarm in her voice.

  Markus’s face looked like sculpted granite, and a muscle tweaked in the unyielding set of his jaw. Apparently, he wasn’t talking, which upset her all the more. Even in all his brilliance, he seemed hard-edged, drawn. She felt a strange division, as if their mutual friendship had been strained.

  “I’ve never driven to the city. I wouldn’t even know how to get there.”

  “I’ll drive,” he said. “Move over.” In a wink of an eye, his light snuffed out.

  She put the car in park and switched off the ignition. Stepping from the vehicle, she trotted to the passenger side. By the time she slid onto the seat, Markus was behind the wheel, no longer her angel, but human Mark.

  “Do you know where Declan’s apartment is?” she asked, buckling the seatbelt.

  He offered her a smug grin. “I have an internal GPS.”

  She should’ve known better than to ask such a stupid question. Jordan kept her lip buttoned as he looked both ways prior to merging into traffic. It had been a while since she’d had her guardian’s company, and scrutinizing him thoroughly, she realized he was beginning to look more and more like Ezekiel, with his hair branching over his shoulders. Whereas, Zeke’s hair was ebony, Markus’s was gold. But the severity of his brow and eyes worried her.

  Golden strands, now catching the breeze, whipped about his head. He pressed a button, rolling up the windows. I guess it doesn’t matter if I like fresh air, she thought. With her eyes glued on him, she waited for an explanation.

  For some odd reason, she began to analyze her human angel in comparison to Thrill, who outshone most of the high school boys. Thrill was tall and broad, and Markus was taller and leaner. Ropy muscles laced down his arms and the snug jersey stretched tautly over his chest as he navigated a left-hand turn onto the highway. He seemed to be meditating on either the road or Seeley.

  As if he’d read Jordan’s mind, his head swerved to look at her—his eyes a magnificent, violet blue. “Glad to see things have calmed down.” He had a droll edge to his tone. “And you can be a normal teenager. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  Perplexed, Jordan gazed into his fathomless eyes, which seemed to say more than he was admitting. “Yeah, I guess. A little boring,” she replied, rolling a finger into the hem of her shirt. “I’m looking for a job.”

  Small talk. Markus is making small talk for my benefit. Something must be terribly wrong.

  She was caught off-guard as he belted out wonderful laughter. His face, previously hard and stern, softened with the show of mirth.

  “Boring?” he said through a chuckle.

  “I know. I sound crazy, right?” She was grasping for a positive mood to keep her body from knotting up. “I kind of miss you like this.”

  His laughter curtailed, and his face turned expressionless.

  “You’re only a whisper away,” she stated, hoping to strike a chord. “Remember those words?” She watched for his reaction. None. “It’s not the same as you being here with me.”

  “I’m an angel, not a human, remember?” He appeared perturbed and the severe brow returned. “You’re still with Thrill, right?”

  “You should know,” she snapped, a bit agitated over ridiculous questions. “Yes. Why?”

  “I’m not a spy. I don’t see you every minute of every day. I’m here when you need me the most.”

  Her heart sagged with disappointment. “Oh.”

  “I arrived earlier this afternoon.” The corner of his mouth quirked. “And found you entertained by Thrill on the hammock.”

  “You were spying on me?”

  “I needed to get rid of him, so I sent Henry out.”

  “What? How?”

  “Henry’s angel whispered in his ear the urgency of checking-up on his granddaughter, who was left unsupervised with that boy.”

  She caved in on herself, locking her hands between her knees. The notion of Markus watching her with Thrill was mortifying. Now she’d forever be speculating.

  “I’m not certain Thrill is a good choice.” He scratched the side of his neck. “You looked—”

  “I don’t want to know how I looked,” she cut in with a major bite to her tone. “And I’d like to make my own choices, if you don’t mind?” She cranked her legs up to rest her heels on the seat, and wrapped her arms around them, feeling insecure.

  She peered at her angel. He was concentrating on the congested highway. His fingers tightened over the steering wheel and his mouth moved as if he was holding something back.

  He cleared his throat, and sounding resigned, said, “I shouldn’t interfere. Sorry. You learn by your mistakes.”

  WE ALL CARRY HIDDEN SCARS

  MISTAKES?” SHE GLARED at him, not appreciating the guessing game. “Want to clarify that? Is there something I should know about Thrill?”

  “Thrill’s . . .” He incorporated a vague shoulder lift and seemed to pick his words wisely. “Maybe you’ll be good for him. Settle him down. I know you could throttle the daylights out of him if needed.”

  “Settle him down? Throttle him?” she scoffed. “What are you trying to say? Spit it out.”

  His fingers tapped the wheel as if he was thinking. “Thrill’s more advanced than you. Just be careful.” He stole a peek at her. “And that’s all I’m going to say on the subject. So don’t ask anymore.”

  A displeased mumble rode up her esophagus as she turned toward the side window, setting her forehead on the glass.

  She was not particularly absorbed with the scenery until the city’s skyline came into view. Lowering her legs from the seat, she sat up straight to see church spires poking into the heavens, an abundance of historical and architectural buildings, the theater district, and the highfaluting restaurants and eateries populated the metropolis. The car careened over the ramp and reached Declan and Seeley’s waterfront apartment in record time.

  Skiffs, sailboats, and motorboats surfed the glassy surface of Lake Erie while seagulls glided on lukewarm currents. The hustle and bustle and clamorous noise was totally different than Elma. There were plenty of tourists with children skittering along the shoreline, women pushing baby strollers, a menagerie of leashed dogs with their owners, and traffic, lots of traffic.

  Markus parked and Jordan jumped out and headed to their condo. She knocked and then turned the handle, but the door was locked. She rang the doorbell and knocked again.

  No answer.

  “Mom, it’s me.” Impatient, she waited then glanced at Markus. She balled her fist and banged harder. “Mom, are you home?” Fishing in her back pocket for her cell, she dialed her mom’s number. The musical ring came from somewhere beyond the door.

  Markus’s fingers circled the handle and easily wrenched the lock. Jordan pushed past him into the artsy, open floor plan condominium.

  She passed an entrance table with an authentic Remington sculpture of a cowboy on a bucking bronco. Several abstract paintings hung on the walls of the main room. Ceiling-to-floor casement windows lined the far wall, giving a view of the sparkling lake, where a parade of swelling, colorful sails glided in the distance. A desk in the corner had a laptop strewn with papers and a wastebasket full of crinkled garbage.

  Two identical, black leather couches, facing each other, with a square coffee table in the middle served as the condo’s focal point. A wide-screen television was attached to the stone above an open pit fireplace. Beyond the couches was a modernized kitchen sporting black cabinetry.

  “She’s not here,” said Jordan.

  Markus jerked his chin toward a hallway. “Go to the bedroom.”

  A bit sh
y at barging in on her mom and Declan, she realized he must’ve been at work and stepped faster. A groggy whimper filled her ears, and she rushed into the room. Her mother lay curled in a fetal position on the king-size bed, and Jordan wasn’t surprised to find Ezekiel hunkered over her.

  She rushed to the bed and placed a hand on Seeley’s shoulder. “Mom. Mom?” Shaking her gently, she said, “She’s not waking up.”

  Seeley’s auburn hair veiled her face. When Zeke pushed back the strands, Jordan was startled at the sight of her mother’s pleated brow and pinched lips as if she were in pain. The skin on her face looked thin, almost translucent with bluish veins stemming into her temple.

  “I’m calling 911. Mom, I don’t know if you can hear me, but we need to get you to a hospital.” She extended her arm for the phone on the bedside table. Her fingers curled around the receiver, but she halted when her mom’s hand covered hers.

  “Jordan?”

  “Mom?” She inspected Seeley’s stricken face. “You’re sick. You need to go to the hospital.” Color flooded her mom’s cheeks, and the blue of her eyes lightened.

  “Jordan, what are you talking about? I feel fine, just sleepy.” She stretched and wiped away the creases on her brow. “And nauseous, big time nauseous. It’s like this sometimes with pregnancy. One minute I feel fine and the next lousy.” She pushed off the mattress with her elbows. “I’m no spring chicken. I was barely eighteen when I had you, now I’m thirty-five.” A maternal grin shaped her lips. “You’re going to be a big sister. What’d you think? Are you as happy as we are?” Seeley quivered.

  Whether she trembled in fear or she was truly content, Jordan couldn’t decide. A week before, her mom had dropped the bomb about being molested, and now she acted almost giddy. Jordan’s dream kept getting in the way of her happiness for them.

  Standing, Seeley wobbled. “Whoa. Head rush.” Both hands flew to her head. “There, I feel much better. Most mornings are like this. By the way, how’d you get here?”

  “It’s going on one o’clock.” Jordan hadn’t meant to sound admonishing. “And Markus drove.”

  Seeley swerved towards Markus and Zeke. “What’s wrong with you people? Or should I say angels? Haven’t you ever seen a pregnant woman before? I’m fine.”

  Ezekiel and Markus swapped glances, adding comical arching eyebrows, and shrugged.

  “Jordan, have you eaten? I have lunchmeat and fresh bread,” Seeley said as she shouldered past the intruding angels and sauntered into the kitchen with everyone following. “But if you don’t mind, could you fix it yourself? The smell of food makes me sick.”

  For the next hour, they settled on the black-leather couch near the windows overlooking the water. Ezekiel had faded from sight, and Jordan was munching on the crust of her sandwich. Markus appeared to be sound asleep on the opposite couch with his hands pillowing his neck.

  Every so often, Jordan’s gaze strayed to the finely built human angel. His jersey spread over his muscled pecs, running the length of his narrowing torso. Her eyes dawdled on the exposed skin where his shirt had ridden up past the waistline of his jeans. Curious, she wondered if he bore a scar from the knife wound inflicted by Asa Trebane a month before. She’d always bear the burden of being a pawn in her angel’s intended demise.

  Filing that memory away, her sight adhered to the indent along his prominent hipbone that led below the waist. Hastily abandoning those thoughts, she beheld the leanness of his long legs crossed at the ankles and scoped out his new multicolored sneakers, gray with swirls of yellow and red soles.

  Where does he get his wardrobe? And isn’t he hot wearing those tight jeans?

  Hoisting the sandwich to her lips like a robot, her eyes continued to wander over the length of his body, ending on his angelic face. Mortified to see him staring at her and by being caught in the act of admiring him, she felt the flush rising into her face. Prior to averting her eyes, she noted his smirk.

  “Why don’t you come and stay with us for the summer,” Seeley said, munching on a cracker, “or at least for a few weeks?”

  Jordan was thankful for her mom’s interruption. She dusted crumbs from the front of her shirt, making a point of not looking at Markus. “I was going to look for a job in Elma.”

  “You can find a summer job in the city, and I’d love to have you here.”

  Jordan glanced at her mom’s wishful eyes.

  “Besides,” Seeley continued. “Declan and I will be looking at houses, and you can help us decide.”

  Jordan hedged. “But, Thrill.”

  “Oh, I forgot about him.” Seeley’s chest expanded taking a breath.

  Jordan wanted to spend quality time with her mom, but if she stayed in the city, the prospect of her very first boyfriend would swirl down the tubes. “Mom, can I think about it?”

  “Sure, don’t feel pressured.” Seeley laid a comforting hand on her arm. “But I miss seeing you.”

  After cleaning the kitchen, Jordan paced over to Markus, still lazing on the couch. “Hey, sleepy head, want to drive me home?” Markus speared both hands into his head of hair, tousling the locks into an unruly mess. He performed an elongated body stretch, and his jersey rode up even farther. She couldn’t help but look. Exasperated, she quickly turned away. What was her problem? He was her guardian angel. She’d known him since birth.

  “Yup, I’m ready,” he said, “but you’re driving. I’ll be co-pilot. You’ll need to know the roads.”

  Settled in the car for the ride home, they drove in congenial silence. While accelerating to pass a slowpoke in the right hand lane, she reflected on her mom’s uncharacteristic temperament. Her sickness was strange, leaving a bad taste in Jordan’s mouth. “You angels know how to freak me out,” she started, “why all the early drama? You could’ve at least given me a heads up, telling me that mom’s fine.”

  “She’s not fine.” Markus was in the process of cracking his knuckles. “You have to be aware of her condition.”

  “Ahh … yeah, she’s pregnant.”

  “Jordan,” he said giving her a condescending glance. “We both know it’s not a normal pregnancy. Ezekiel thinks …” severing his sentence, his lips flattened against his teeth.

  “Thinks what?”

  “Nothing.”

  She’d seen that impassive look on Markus’s face in the past. He wouldn’t be slipping any guarded intel anytime soon. Temper getting the best of her, she pressed the gas pedal.

  “Uh-uh, a little too fast, ah-h, too close, too close to this guy’s bumper,” Markus said, berating her driving ability. “Slow down. You have a lead foot, Jordan. Don’t switch lanes unless I tell you.”

  “Markus, for heaven’s sake. For an angel, you sound ridiculous.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

  She turned her head to catch his eyes of steel and then sped to the left lane to go around a minivan. “Do you want to drive?”

  He shook his head. “No, you’re doing fine.”

  She took her hand off the wheel to switch on the radio, lowering the volume. “So tell me, what’s going on with my mother?” She tried to get him to open up and reveal the angels’ suspicions. “That was more than a bit peculiar.”

  “Something’s amiss,” he confirmed, brushing his hands on the front of his jeans as if he was attempting to remain calm. “I’ve seen your dream, and I was there, at the shack. The netherworld is scheming, and we think Seeley is in a sticky situation.”

  “So you think I should move into the city?” She plucked a hair from her mouth. “I could watch over her, see what’s happening.”

  “I feel you’re adequately prepared for the city.”

  “You make it sound like the city’s alive.”

  “In a way, it is. You’ll find demons lurking in every nook and cranny in both the seedy and prestigious sections.”

  Jordan looked in the rearview mirror to see an approaching semi and switched lanes. “After what’s happened over the last few months, I think I can
handle a little action.”

  “With exams the past couple of weeks, you’ve put training in the background.” He leaned over the seat and squeezed her triceps.

  His strong, kneading fingers made her feel flabby, and she frowned.

  “You need to get into shape,” he scolded.

  “Hey!” Jordan defended, knocking his hand away with her elbow. “I’ve been lifting weights with Thrill at the work-out room in school.” She made a fist and cocked her arm, hoping her biceps popped. “Hard as rock, baby.” She caught his smile.

  “Hands on the wheel, if you please.” His tone was a mild reproof. “Weights are good, but sparring is better. You need to know how to handle yourself in all kinds of situations. As soon as the sun goes down, walk to the border of your backyard.”

  “By the woods?” Her brow ruffled.

  “Yes, I know the perfect spot, and no one will bother us.”

  It was an odd request, and one he’d never made before. If he said to meet in the dark woods, she would. Her trust in Markus was irrevocable, and it had been a while since her skills had actually been tested.

  She then pondered her decision to leave Elma and her grandparents. “Henry and Emily will be upset,” she said, thinking aloud. “They’ll understand when I tell them it’s only for a few weeks to help Mom out. I’ll start packing when I get home.” Her head bobbed then stopped. “Oh geez. I need to tell Thrill. Cripes. He’s not going to be happy.”

  “Don’t you think—”

  “Markus.” Removing her hand from the wheel, she prevented him from speaking with a rigid index finger. “I’m not asking for your opinion right now, okay?”

  He pantomimed zippering his lip.

  “And I need to see Cayden and Paisley,” she added. “I finally have some friends, and I was looking forward to the best summer ever.”

  RESCUE ME FROM MY ENEMIES

  SEELEY TREKKED STEADILY along the busy city block, knowing she was being followed. Bus and car fumes permeated the streets. Women in skirts and blouses, and men in tailored suits, carried briefcases as they scurried to the courthouse or one of the many office buildings. The smell of the concrete jungle was stifling in the summer’s heat. The only source of fresh air spun off the water, which she was leaving behind as she strode farther into the hub of the metropolis.