“No, it’s not, there’s something different about you Liv, something I’ve never seen before. There’s just this new air of confidence about you. It’s almost like a Christmas Eve miracle.”
“I don’t think there are Christmas Eve miracle’s mom, just Christmas miracles.” And I don’t even think they exist.
I finish setting the buffet just as my fathers, sisters; arrive, Beebe and Morgan, along with my uncle Alberto. Ever since my uncle Vince died two years ago Beebe never lets Morgan go to anywhere alone, even just to dinner at her brother’s house. I admire my aunt’s love for each other; it always reminds me how diverse that emotion really is.
The scent of my mother’s fresh baked Christmas cookies fills the house as the rest of the family files in, my cousin Anthony and his fiancée Denise, my brother Jeremy and his girlfriend Jenna and last but not least Nikkee and Davis. The only person missing this year is my cousin Vince, Morgan’s son, who is a Marine serving a tour in Afghanistan. This year is especially hard for my aunt; it’s trying enough to spend the holidays without her husband, but it kills her to know that at any moment, she could also lose her son.
I watch her from across the room wearing her bravest face; she fights so hard to play happy. Most of the family buys it except for me and Beebe. I feel the internal depths of her pain, while Beebe instinctually knows her sister is hiding more than what she is showing on the surface. She doesn’t have to have magical powers to know she’s suffering and needs the support of her family around her. It makes my grief seem so insignificant. I mourn the loss of someone who doesn’t want anything to do with me. It’s pathetic in a way. It’s my fault I’m alone, and I know that, yet I still feel sorry for myself.
I wonder, if I’m strong enough to control my power, am I strong enough to put Justice out of my mind for just one night? I highly doubt it, but I’m willing to try.
“Oh God!” Nikkee says from behind me. “What did you do to yourself!” I’m not sure if her reaction is from shock or horror. “Look at your hair!” She whines.
I haven’t seen Nikkee since that night at Wok ‘n’ Roll. Her tirade of text messages the following few days was enough for even the Taliban to retreat. I couldn’t face her and I especially didn’t want to talk about what happened with Kerri, so I did the most natural thing, I avoided her at all costs.
“I went au natural,” I tell her. “It was time for a change.”
Her mood suddenly changes, as if the shock moved out and sadness moved in.
“Nik?”
She pieces one of my newly dyed ends between her delicate fingers. I can feel her dismay streak up the dark strand into my brain. “We don’t look like sisters anymore,” she says in a small voice. She surprises me; Nikkee isn’t one to express discontent openly. Even to me.
I put my hand over hers, “we don’t need to look like sisters to be sisters,” I tell her affectionately. Her cheeks suddenly flush, and her face takes on a peachy red glow as she smiles at me. Her sadness is gone, and she is suddenly filled with my sentiment. I drop her hand. I just manipulated her emotions. She doesn’t startle from my reaction; she just stares at me with my same demonstrative eyes. Freaky. It’s insanely odd to see my emotion on someone else’s face, and yet, at the same time it’s amazing to see how fast my powers are growing.
“I know this is going to sound strange, but I think I like the dark hair better; you look more like you. If that makes any sense,” Nikkee giggles bemused.
It makes more sense than she will ever know.
The celebration moves way too quickly and before I know it Nikkee and Davis are saying their good-byes.
“You’re coming to Jessica’s party on New Year’s right?” Davis asks with a strange jolt in his stomach that I don’t pay much mind to. The two of them are so hot for each other, they are always shooting weird sensations all over the place.
“As far as I know, I wouldn’t miss it,” I tell him confidently.
The night is soon winding down and only my brother, Jenna and a mess is left. As my father helps my mother- who is feeling no pain, by the way- to bed, he kisses me goodnight. It will be the first Christmas Eve, I don’t sleep in the house I grew up in. This year is different in so many ways; it’s a year of change, especially for me. It’s small, but spending the night alone just empowers me more to take charge of my life.
Baby steps.
The December night is unusually warm. I don’t even bother to wear my rabbit lined, zip up out to the car. I throw it on the front seat and drive off. I find myself unconsciously traveling in the opposite direction of my apartment. I’m not even thinking; I’m just enjoying the warm winter air. I soon find myself in the middle of Point Village. All the restaurants are closed, and only a few deserted cars are stranded in the parking lot. I pull up alongside the plum colored board walk. I might as well enjoy the serenity while it’s here.
I step out into the comfortable night. The Village is so peaceful and quiet. I slowly walk under the large gazebo that has adjoining trellises curved like a ballet dancer’s arms in second position. The structure is donned in a thousand twinkle lights. Everything around me is a glow except for the black ocean below my feet. I lean on the metal railing and inhale the sea air.
The moon isn’t quiet full; it’s more a funny round shape that looks like someone has peeled one side of it off. It sort of reminds me of me, not quite whole but getting there. The moonlight’s brilliance illuminates the dark water’s edge. The breaks are small and calm, and they touch the shoreline ever so gently, like a pianist’s fingers playing against delicate ivory. I watch as they wash in and out and can’t help but feel in some way I am like them. I was able to put Justice out of my mind for a few short hours, but like the current, he always manages to pull me back in.
That’s the way it’s been for the last three months, he is gone, and I am here, but my want never changes. I always wish for him back, just to have him stand next to me would be enough. Dreadfully, I’m starting to realize that, that desire is never going to be fulfilled. I am only left with a vivid memory of a man. I know one day soon I will have to let him go, but that thought cuts me deeper than his absence from my life. I can’t accept it, not yet, that he is never coming back. No matter how much I want to move on, I know I’m just not ready.
The south wind suddenly changes whisking the warm air away; I rub my arms to fight the chill. I don’t want to give up the night just yet. The ocean makes me feel small, and I like it. It makes me feel like I’m not alone, so I stand there freezing, gazing into a vast black abyss. After a short while my nose starts to go numb as the wind picks up against my face. My hair whips around my head, and my jeans turn cold against my skin. My coatless body has had just about all it can take. Then, unexpectedly, the back of my neck catches fire. The feeling races down my spine like a match being struck against sulfur. I know that warmth; it’s a familiar sensation that once blanketed me. I stand immobile in my Uggs; I’m not sure if it is the bone-chilling air or sheer fright that traps me in place.
It can’t be him; he can’t be just standing there, behind me. It’s just too easy. I fear I’m having a hallucination. Maybe my grip on reality isn’t as strong as I originally thought. I instantly regret annihilating my collection of meds, especially the anti-psychotic selection.
The warmth wraps around me. I hesitantly glance down at the metal railing, but there, gripped around it are two very familiar manicured hands. I search for some breath as I stare ahead, but it seems I have forgotten how to breathe. I have daydreamed about this moment for three months and what I would say if he ever returned. But for some reason, my mind has turned over blank, like some kind of chronic writers block. I close my eyes and try to pull myself together. I slowly turn around with oppressing fear he won’t be there. The suspense is nerve-wracking. To my relief, a pair of very familiar Caribbean blue eyes stare down at me. The eyes I have missed so much. His empyreal presence nearly brings me to tears; my cracked flimsy heart waivers in his direction crav
ing to be mended.
“What are you doing out here all alone in the cold?” He asks, his warm arms still detaining me.
“Admiring the scenery.”
“It doesn’t look like much of a landscape to me,” he glances out into the dark sea.
“You just have to know what to look at.” I tell him.
“I know I’m seeing something, what happened to your hair?”
My hair? He’s been gone for three months and the first thing he asks about is my hair?
“Nothing.” I say defensively. “Is there something wrong with it?”
“No, it’s just different that’s all,” his eyes pass over my flat ironed locks.
“A lot of things are different since you left.” I say in a sourly. My pleasant thoughts have suddenly turned odious. Its unexpected to feel such disdain. Like my happiness is corrupted by the distress of his abrupt disappearance. Three months of suppressed emotion is slowly creeping to the surface. I demand to know where he’s been, why he left the way he did, and if he hates me for the awful things I said.
Justice clearly sees the grief that is plastered across my face and asks in a troubled tone “why are you upset?”
Those four simple words nearly set off a biohazard alarm in my head. I try to fight back the watery mess my face is about to become.
“Why am I upset?!” I snap. “Justice you left! No note, no phone call, not even a text message that said hey Liv, gotta run, see ya when I see ya!”
It feels like an avalanche has just been cleared from my chest. I guess I had more pent-up resentment than I realized, but as soon as I released it, I felt worlds better. The relief only lasts for a second before guilt stalls in my stomach; I haven’t forgotten about the pleading and groveling, and I think my number has just come up.
His blue eyes survey my face like he’s trying to make sense out of my sudden outburst. He cracks a tiny smile like he’s enjoying my upset.
“I’m sorry; I didn’t know my absence would have such an effect. I thought I was going to have to come back and fight for you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I snivel.
“Nothing,” he shakes off the comment with some amusement.
“Where have you been?” I ask grimly.
“I went after the Stalker,” Jayden saw him moving north, so I followed.”
“You didn’t even tell me you were leaving.”
He pauses like something just dawned on him.
“Liv, really,” he says apologetically, “I don’t usually have to check in with anyone before I take off. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he fingers a piece of my freshly dyed hair. “Do you think you can forgive me?” He asks as he saunters his body closer to mine, taking me by surprise.
“Only if you can forgive me.” I say shamefully. Intensely aware of his proximity.
“Forgive you for what?”
“For saying terrible things that you didn’t deserve,” I look up at him with contrite eyes.
“Do you honestly think I held that little insignificant fight against you?”
I shrug diffidently, “you did disappear for three months.”
“Only to protect you.”
“Well I wasn’t aware of that.”
“If I promise never to leave you again would you forgive me then?” He engages my eyes. My insides stir.
There is nothing to forgive; I could never deny him, not for three minutes or three lifetimes. I was just happy he was here, standing next to me.
“Yes.” I answer trying not to sound desperate or pitiful.
I cautiously place one hand on his arm, here comes the groveling. “About what I said-”
“It doesn’t matter now,” he interrupts. “It’s behind us and that’s where it should stay. To be honest, you were right, I do let the past dictate my life, but it’s only because I don’t know any other way to live. It’s something I’m working on.” He runs his finger through my dark bangs. “I just didn’t want you making the same mistakes I did.” He looks profoundly into my trembling eyes; I am still so guilt ridden from that day.
“I felt so vulnerable while you were gone.” Not to mention broken hearted.
“I would never leave you vulnerable.” He picks me up and plants me on the warmed railing. We are nearly eye level now. He slides his hand down my thigh and slips his body between my legs, wrapping one arm around my waist to anchor me.
“Please understand, there are parts of me that I can’t control, they are instinctual, bred into my DNA. I’m a hunter by creation, and right now the Stalker is my sole prey. Try not to judge my shortcomings too harshly, there are always good intentions behind them.”
“I don’t judge you; I was just worried you were never coming back.”
“That’s one thing you never have to worry about, Azrael himself couldn’t keep me away.”
He looks at me with such ferocity it’s almost transcendent. He tangles his fingers underneath my dark hair gripping at the strands. My heart flutters in my chest. My eyes scan over his luminous face; his lips are more alluring than a juicy red apple begging to be bitten. As he pulls me close to him, I try to remember how to breathe. His lips are warm and wild, and they taste like cake batter ice cream. The moment is so unreal I have to remind myself this isn’t a dream.
I relinquish every inch of myself as he pulls me forcefully into his embrace. His arms tighten around me while liquid wrought iron runs ramped through my veins, it’s the freest I ever felt. That is his effect, uncontrollable, unfathomable, freedom; freedom from myself and freedom to love him. Three months ago, I don’t think I would’ve been able to hand myself over so easily, even if I did hold the same feelings then as I do now. Today I am different, and it’s because of him.
He kisses me softly across my face, and then down my neck, resting his head just slightly above my collar bone. My senses are on fire. He hugs me tightly and inhales a serene breath, like our embrace has healed him in some way.
I know it healed me.
We stay in this position for a while, just finding comfort in each other’s arms. And thankfully so, because I totally I need a minute to compose myself from the cosmic coupling that has just occurred.
My senses tingle with strung up emotion as I allow myself to feel desires that once were forbidden. I can’t help but think about what my mother said about Christmas Eve miracles, I guess she was right; they do exist.
Mine materialized right before my eye.
Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot
Jocelyn opens the grand doors of The Cliffs to greet me. She holds mistletoe over her head. “Happy New Year!” She shouts as she attacks me with kisses in the doorway.
“I think you could be dangerous with that stuff,” I muse as I walk into the decorated foyer.
“Honey, I’m dangerous all on my own.” She smirks.
“I had no doubt.”
I marvel at the ceiling and not because of the breathtaking mural this time. “Jocelyn, it’s snowing in your house.” I gape. All around me a forest of Christmas trees stand plump in the hallways while a light dusting of snow falls above our heads.
“Daniel does it every year; he enchants every inch of the house he can. He loves the holidays.”
Through the trees, a familiar face appears. It’s the face I miss every second I’m away from it. But it looks different tonight, enlivened almost. Justice greets me with the brightest smile I have ever seen; it’s so dazzling it could quite possibly sustain its own solar system. He kisses me quickly on the cheek and takes my coat in a hurry. He is gone and back before I can say ‘Black Forest scene’. He grabs my hand and leads me into the kitchen. Jocelyn wasn’t kidding when she said Daniel enchants every inch of the house. Levitating candles light each room while a runaway train whistles at our feet. It really is a winter wonderland.
“Drink?” Justice asks. “Daniel imported his favorite champagne from Cotes de Blancs.”
“How can I say no that?” I smile as he hands me a crystal flute th
at looks like a brides toasting glass. In the media room, the rest of the Seraphs mingle. On the ledges of the large bay windows living Christmas villages inhabit a surface once covered with pillows in crimson and cream.
It’s hard to contain my obvious amusement when I realize all the boys are wearing the same ugly holiday sweater. Even Jocelyn’s red fitted shirt resembles their patterned chests. I nearly spit champagne trying to contain the laughter.
“What?” Justice insists.
“Nothing, it’s just, nice sweaters.”
“Daniel pesters us every year to invoke some holiday spirit, so we get back at him by being fashionably faux pas. It drives him mad,” he chuckles.
I unexpectedly feel a strange arm wrap around my waist as a warm face comes dangerously close to mine. I twitch from the unannounced advance. Aayden grins in my peripheral vision.
“We were wondering when you were going to come back around,” he pecks my check and then releases me.
“Hey guy,” Justice clenches his fist in a playfully serious manor. Aayden backs away, but not without flashing a devious smile.
“Don’t be so defensive, he was only being friendly.”
“Ya, right, friendly. We call them double trouble for a reason.”
Justice eyes Aayden from across the room. His look tells me he’s sending silent death threats, but Aayden seems unbothered. Justice has been on the defensive since his return, like his duty status was flipped on, full throttle. The Stalker is still out there, and he has managed to thwart all advances. It is frustrating the hell out of him and only making his hunt that much more of a challenge.
Justice explained that the longer he hunted a certain target the more engrossed he became in the kill, like the chase takes over. He said he has to be careful not to let it consume him, or else he would be lost until the Stalker was dead. Some pursuits, he told me, have lasted for years; which unnerved me. Not only, because of the looming threat against my life, but because we don’t have years for him to waste. My expiration date comes closer with every midnight.
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