Aayden and Jayden leave with the tall leggy brunette’s dressed in ridiculously tight shirts.
“Weren’t they with blondes last night?” I ask.
“Who keeps track,” Justice rolls his eyes.
The morning goes back to its silent manner after the brief exchange.
Abruptly, Daniel drops his newspaper exposing his lovely face. “I was doing some research on Empath’s last night,” he announces.
“Research?” I ask curiously.
“When Daniel says research he means he called Cross.” Justice clarifies.
Cross. I hope Daniel didn’t give him all the gory details. I could only imagine the perverse satisfaction he’d get out of that story.
“And,” Justice asks.
“Cross explained that magical Empath’s cannot only feel and manipulate emotions, they can absorb energy as well.”
“I don’t understand,” I say immediately. “I thought my powers were off-limits to Justice?”
“Maybe on a conscious level,” Daniel discloses, “but somewhere he’s in there. That’s what happened last night, you didn’t even know you were absorbing him until you crossed over into his power. That’s why his skin was able to burn you. The two of you need to be very careful with your physical relationship. I’ve never seen anything like it, but evidently it’s dangerous.”
Daniel manages to put me in a severe depression. I wonder what ramifications this information is going to have. Justice is guarded about our relationship to begin with. This can only make matters worse.
I look over at him with dejected eyes. He doesn’t respond with any identifiable facial expressions, which only twists my depression into fret. Maybe if I’m lucky -or blindly delusional- Justice will ignore what happened last night, and our relationship won’t suffer as much as I know it’s going to.
Justice doesn’t say much on the way to my apartment. He just watches the road with that familiar pensive stare. I sit in the front seat anxiously wondering what my senses will find; I imagine the Stalker’s stain all over the walls and floor. I shudder at the thought as I gaze out the window. I hate feeling him in the air and his perturbing hunger for my death. For something that feeds off energy and emotion, he is a hollow agitation fueled by driven disturbance.
Justice grabs my hand breaking me away from my bothersome thoughts; he looks at me with soft soupy eyes.
“It will be ok,” he assures me. Are you really in my head?
“I know,” I’m completely confident I’m safe with him, but I can’t help wondering what specific problem he is referring to. There are so many to choose from at the moment.
As we walk up to the door of my apartment’s stairwell, the boys become increasingly defensive. They fan out around me on the sidewalk like they are a special ops team on a recon mission. I walk up the stairs surrounded by a living wall of supernatural essence. Derrin and Jayden enter first, followed by Aayden, Justice and I fall back, waiting outside until we get the all clear sign. When we enter, three burning bodies stand guard smoldering in translucent flames matching the color of their jeweled eyes; there is so much heat I fear they are going to set the furniture on fire.
“Hurry,” Justice encourages with fiery eyes. “You can’t be long.”
I go straight for my closet trying to make a list of must have’s in my head. I grab my pink duffle bag with white polka dots off the top shelf and start shoving whatever I see into it. Mostly sweat pants and t- shirts, some underwear, a brush, socks and a few pairs of jeans. I don’t have time to fold anything as Justice hurries me with his virulent eyes.
The Stalker’s stain is more soaked into my apartment, than I could have imagined, like he was a visitor for several years instead of several seconds. He is all over everything, even my toothbrush.
Justice takes the duffel bag from my arm as I try to stuff makeup and toiletries into a number of small cosmetics bags. Thank God for free gift with purchase.
As soon as I’m done packing they rush me out of the apartment the same way they rushed me in, and by the time we get to the street all the boys are back to their luminous alter egos.
I wonder how long I am going to be away from the life I know and how I’m going to keep my incited retreat a secret. I never got around to telling anyone about Justice, so how am I going to explain I’m shacking up with some guy whom no one’s ever heard of. My father may just have a heart attack or go on a hunt of his own.
I’ll think of something I thought, biting a nail.
Decoding Glass
“Justice!” I drag out his name in protest. “How long do you plan on keeping me prisoner in your castle?”
It’s been seven whole days, and I haven’t been allowed out of the house. Don’t get me wrong, living in the lap of luxury is wonderful and all, but on some level I feel like an inmate, suffocating under the protective watch of the Seraphs. I can’t even go to the bathroom without someone looking for me. Not that I can blame them there, the last time the Stalker attacked me, it happened to be in one of The Cliff’s twenty bathrooms.
I miss my family though, and Nikkee, and oxygen. I know that’s kind of ironic coming from me, considering I made hiding out an art form. But that was the old Liv, the Liv, who didn’t want to live. Now all I want is to be an active member of society and let my face be intimate with the sun.
For the past week Aayden has cooked me five-star dinners that make the heavens ring. He is in the midst of culinary greatness right now. Meanwhile, Justice and I argue about how long he is going to hold me for ransom.
“It’s not safe for you now,” he vehemently answers. “The Stalker is close; I can sense him everywhere. I won’t take any chances. And if that means I have to tie you up and stash you in the basement I will.” His eyes are forceful. He isn’t playing around. The danger is close and we can both feel it. Especially me, the Stalker is everywhere, and he is harassing me from a tortuously close distance.
“Hiding out isn’t going to solve anything.” I object.
Justice gives me a crazed look, “of course it’s solving something! It’s keeping you alive!”
“For how long?” I argue. “I can’t be your captive forever.”
“You not my captive.” He objects. “And you’re also not the type to go out and tempt danger.” He narrows his eyes suspiciously at me.
“Maybe I am.” I say sternly. “I just can’t stand to waste another second of my life hiding out. I’ve been doing that for twenty years; I can’t let some Spirit Stalker put me back in a place I just clawed my way out of.”
I can’t tell you how much those words terrify me, how much the Stalker terrifies me, but I mean what I say. I’m not going to let him intimidate me, at least not on the surface.
Justice’s face softens; he understands my frustration, but he is also aware of the danger my new-found courage poses. Especially if he, or the others, aren’t there protecting me. He has just as much to lose as I do if the Stalker gets to me, and ironically it is one in the same, me.
“Did you tell them about me yet?” Justice asks referring to my parents. The question is soft, almost timid, like a child searching for acceptance.
“Err, no,” I answer like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. For some reason, it is incredibly important to Justice that my family knows about him. I’m still trying to figure out why.
He gives me a disappointed look. “How am I supposed to protect you, if you keep me a secret from everyone in your life?”
“What am I supposed to tell them?” I ask forcefully. “Family, this is Justice; he’s an immortal; we met when he saved me from a Spirit Stalker who was, and still is, trying to kill me. And, oh, by the way, he uncovered the fact that I am really a magical Empath and not an impending mental patient.”
That explanation would go over like lead balloon.
He folds his arms with a frustrated huff. “How about you say this, family, this is Justice, he’s my boyfriend, we met a coffee shop.”
I stop dea
d in thought. Did he just say boyfriend? I didn’t take Justice for the label type, but when he said the word it seemed to solidify something.
I stand there processing the sentence blankly. I cross my arms and nonchalantly say, “I guess I could tell them that.” Even though inside I am doing back flips.
“Good,” he says with one of those solar system sustaining smiles; the one that craters the dimples in his cheeks. The one he only lets out every so often.
He wraps his arms around me and kisses me zealously on the mouth. My dinner is immediately spoiled by the sweet, cake batter taste of his lips. I don’t need another ounce of nourishment after that. In fact, I’ve lost five pounds over the last week because of him. Every time I had a sugar craving all I needed was a kiss; his lips are way better than any chocolate fix.
He looks down at me with fevered eyes, my body still locked in his embrace; he draws in a huge breath as if he is trying to collect himself. “We better get downstairs,” he says flushed, “Aayden is calling, he stressing over liquidly lasagna.”
I am dreadfully disappointed; I’m much more in the mood for dessert.
As we walk down the grand staircase I ask him, “so, can I go see my parents tomorrow?”
“Only if you promise to tell them about us.” He stipulates.
I’m not sure I’m ready, even with the rock solid explanation he provided. But I know I can’t lie about our relationship anymore, to them or myself. He pulled out the B word with no hesitation, and I quickly accepted it. It feels right, on my deepest level I know we are meant to be together, like our relationship spans across time. What?
It’s a strange feeling, one I can’t explain. But that happens to me a lot, experiencing feelings I can’t elucidate. I chock it up to my magical makeup.
“Liv,” Justice tugs at my hand pulling me away from my thoughts. “You are you going to tell them, right?” He asks like he can feel my suppressed hesitation.
It is as if the angelic figures on the stained-glass windows are passing judgment on me and my reluctance; almost as if they will come to life and persecute me if I pledge anything but the truth. So with them as my witnesses, I promise sincerely. “Yes, I’ll tell them.”
***
After Aayden’s luxurious dinner of leaky lasagna, which was spectacular by the way, Jayden, Derrin, Melenia, Justice and I relax in the media room to watch a movie. It is the first night Justice stayed in with me since I’ve been a ‘guest’ in his house. Usually by now he is out the door in pursuit of the Stalker, leaving me in one of the Seraph’s care.
Melenia and I whisper to each other throughout most of the testosterone driven movie. She tells me all about the obscenely expensive dress Derrin bought her for their upcoming trip to Italy. How amazing I think. I’ve never been out of the state, let alone the country.
Derrin sits passively next to her like he could not care less about her adorning outpour. The one thing Derrin and Justice definitely share is the same facial control. There are no hearts worn on their sleeves. But, for one split second, I think I feel a sense of plume in the air, as if Derrin is secretly content with Melenia’s happiness. I look up at him, but the sensation quickly passes, and I wonder if I am just imagining things. The Seraph’s always repel my power, for emotional privacy. I can’t say I blame them; my abilities are a bit intrusive. Emotions are extremely personal and not something to delve into lightly. Therefore, I’m foolish to believe I’m feeling something that isn’t there. I blame it on the cabin fever and go back to watching the movie.
My glass is almost empty. I need a refill on the iced green tea I am nursing. I try to savor anything Aayden makes; it’s just that good. I’m convinced he puts some kind of magical element in his food that makes you dream about it for nights on end. Last night I dreamt of tiny cream puffs dancing like sugar plums inside my head.
I walk into the dimly lit kitchen. A small bit of light is springing from the open refrigerator. Wedged between the doors is Derrin, drinking something out of the jar. I flip on a light so I can see better; I didn’t even notice him leave the room. He turns around to face me holding a jar of pickles.
“Were you just drinking pickle juice?’ I ask slightly repulsed.
“Ya, what of it?” He wipes his mouth.
“That’s just gross.” I tell him.
“To you,” he answers in his reflexive Derrin way.
He rests his hands on the granite countertop, the jar of pickles still clutched in his fingers. He looks at me as if he’s waiting for something. He reminds me of Justice, a bit distant and defensive, but always sublime. Such strange creatures, Seraphs, they always inadvertently demand all the attention in the room.
“Was there something in the refrigerator you wanted?” He asks snidely.
The refrigerator? There is something I want, I just can’t remember what. For some reason, all that engrosses my mind is Derrin’s left hand and this uncontrollable urge to touch it. It feels like the desire possesses me.
I eye him carefully while I move a little closer. I want to touch him, even if it is just the tip of one long beautiful finger. Ever since Justice told me the story of his and Derrin’s spoiled relationship, I’ve had this overwhelming sense that his suffering is in vain. That somehow he misconstrued Derrin’s directed frustration. But I never had any concrete evidence proving such; just a silly feeling that even I question.
“What are you doing?” He asks defensively as he watches me move closer to him. It’s like I have no control over my mind or body. I just know I need to feel him. As I move through the kitchen, I slide my hand along the granite island. The surface is cool and smooth beneath my fingers. I’m close now, as he stands motionless, like a marble statue of Adonis watching me.
“What’s wrong with you,” he demands. But I don’t answer. I can’t answer, because I don’t know. All I can see is his hand and Justice’s face.
It is only as I get imminently close do I understand; if I touch him I will know. I will know his true feelings, the ones he suppresses. I will find out the truth. I will know if my intuition is right, and that the person he hates isn’t Justice, but really himself.
If there is only one thing I can give Justice during my tiny insignificant life, the life that is barley anything compared to his, it would be truth; the truth to release him from his suffering and reveal the true nature of Derrin’s feelings. My heart starts to pound as my finger is now only millimeters away from his.
His face is rigid and his hands are tense, but his pride keeps him from moving. His royal blue eyes tremble with questioning trepidation.
I push myself to the limit. I get what I want, to touch him.
I jolt as my insides shatter like glass upon contact. I want to pull away, but I don’t. I have to know, so I search through him. His essence is dark, and it burns like battery acid. Being inside him is uncomfortable, but I can’t give up until I find what I’m looking for.
I don’t know how long I’m on the pursuit. It might have been a minute; it might have been an hour, but I suddenly find Derrin over me enraged, his eyes a fiery blue, his face livid and crazed.
“NO!” Justice yells urgently, thrusting Derrin away. He slams him into the stainless steel refrigerator denting it with his body.
I watch disoriented as I’m not exactly sure what’s happening from all the commotion.
Melenia distances me from the feral Seraph’s as they wrestle against the refrigerator door. It’s clear what Derrin wants- to physically harm me- but Justice won’t let him near me. He crushes Derrin’s neck with his forearm until he calms down. The tension in the room prickles all over my body. They speak no verbal words, but I can only imagine the confrontation that is going on in their heads. Melenia holds my arm anxiously as we wait for the scuffle to end.
Finally, when he is calm, Justice releases Derrin from his choke hold. Derrin glares at me with an icy stare that chills me right down to my bone marrow. For the first time I am afraid.
“My emotions are my own!” H
e viciously hisses before he storms out of the room. Melenia in tow. Justice turns to me; we are alone now and I know a reproach is coming. He has that look on his face, that disapproving scolding look that I hate. But I’m not sorry. No matter how bad he makes me feel, I have no regrets; I did it for him.
He walks away from the refrigerator that has just taken a beating and lifts me onto the island. We are almost eye level now.
“WHAT the hell was that all about? Are you crazy? What in the world would possess you to do something like that, especially to Derrin?!” His tone is urgent as he rattles off his questions. I know he knows exactly what happened. Derrin not only told him, but showed him through their psychic bond.
What did possess me? That’s a good question. It is one I can’t answer. “I …I’m sorry,” are the only meager words that seem to spill out of my mouth, which is funny since I’m not sorry at all. It was just an automatic answer.
He looks at me with astonishment. “Is that all you have to say for yourself, your sorry?”
I look up at him irritated. “Actually no,” I become defensive. “I did what I did for a reason, I did it for you. So really, I’m not sorry. You can be mad at me all you want, but I would do it again even if Derrin did maul me to death.”
His eyes grow wide.
“For me? Why?”
I bite back my upset, “because ever since you told me that story on the beach, there’s been this gnawing feeling growing inside me that you’re wrong, that you blame yourself for something that wasn’t your fault, and Derrin doesn’t really hate you the way you think he does. I just wanted to be able to give you something, the way you’ve given me something.” I bite my bottom lip. “You once told me that Empath’s are incredible healers, and that they can help those who are spiritually lost find a road back to redemption. I wanted that for you, so I thought disclosure would be a good gift.” I rattle.
His jaw drops. His angry scolding face quickly changes to shock and disbelief. “Well, what did you find out?” He asks anxiously.
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