Forsaken dots-1

by Kristen Day

  I hesitated at the double doors. How was I supposed to find him in a hurricane? What if I got blown away? And worse, what if everyone saw me get blown away? It would be all over YouTube within minutes. I looked back at the lobby to see how many witnesses there were. Only twenty or so.

  Excellent. I turned back toward the door and almost had a heart attack. Finn stood on the other side snickering at me. I was glad he thought this was funny. Using all of my strength, I wrenched open the door. With the wind counteracting my movements, I had to slide out quickly before getting crushed.

  “What part of ‘go out into a hurricane’ did you think was a good idea?” I glared up at Finn, but he had vanished. Something touched my hand and he reappeared right in front of me.

  “How’d you do that?” I yelled, realizing a second too late it wasn’t necessary. It was like we were back inside, except…we weren’t. The rain had stopped and the deafening sound of the wind had disappeared as well. I was also sparkling.

  “I’ve cloaked us.” Finn grinned, proud of himself. “It’s one of my abilities.”

  “You what?” He was sparkling as well. Instead of answering, his grin widened and he released my hand. He disappeared and I was back out in the hurricane. Rain battered my face and the sound of the wind screamed in my ears. Thankfully, he grabbed my hand again.

  “Don’t do that!” I scolded him, as he tried not to laugh. “You think you’re real funny, don’t you? Just because you borrowed an invisibility cloak from Harry Potter, doesn’t mean you can just

  –“He let go of my hand again. I reached out through the blinding rain, hoping to grab him but my hands couldn’t find anything solid. Knowing he was watching me, I put my hands on my hips and yelled over the wind. “If you don’t cloak me right now, I’m going back inside and never speaking to you ever again!” I felt his hand in mine again and he reappeared, along with the protection of his cloak. Unfortunately, I was already dripping wet.

  “I just wanted to see if you’d melt,” he explained with feigned innocence.

  “I’m not that sweet,” I retorted, wiping the water off my face with my free hand. I tried my best to be mad at him. It was difficult considering he was the embodiment of temptation, continually wreaking havoc on my emotions.

  “Neither am I,” he answered, a conspiring gleam in his eye. He pulled me down the steps and onto the beach. I noticed we weren’t technically the ones sparkling, the cloak attached to us was. It was draped around us like a blanket, sticking to our bodies and keeping the rest of the world out. I glanced sideways at him, wondering how many times he’d cloaked himself around me without my knowledge. I thought about all those times I had felt like I was being watched. I probably was.

  Unlike me, his faded jeans and blue t-shirt were completely dry; his hair lay perfectly across his brow, also untouched by the hurricane. I felt like a wet dog in comparison. The sand beneath our bare feet was wet, but I was glad for that one connection to the beach. I couldn’t feel the air or smell the water. Otherwise, I couldn’t be sure we were really outside. The rain and wind whirled around the cloak, creating a misting effect that made it impossible to see. I felt like we were walking through a storm cloud.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “Almost there.” We could walk right off of a cliff and I’d never know the difference.

  Suddenly, the sand beneath our feet turned to wooden planks. He turned to face me and the cloak blasted outward, encompassing a large gazebo. It hung down the sides of the roof, glittering all around us. It was awe-inspiring.

  “Wow.” I spun in a circle taking it all in. “How do you do that?”

  “I just will it to be.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was no big deal. “As long as we’re under the cloak, no one else can hear or see us.” I didn’t miss the ghost of a smile that crossed his lips.

  Unfortunately, a twinge of fear overshadowed my sense of adventure. I’d been cloaked by a possible murderer. In the middle of a hurricane. The possible ‘accidents’ that could happen to cause my death were endless. I pushed down my worries and put on a face of confidence.

  “So now that you’ve got me here, what do you intend to do with me?” I looked around, curiously. “And where have you taken me?”

  “To a gazebo,” he responded slyly, watching me carefully. He picked up a small wooden box similar to Kira’s, but his looked much older. The wood was weathered and smooth with dark engravings covering its top and sides.

  “I have something for you.” From the box, he pulled out a small blue velvet pouch and handed it to me. Surprised, I held it gingerly and looked at him for the meaning behind it. He gazed back at me with amusement.

  “It’s inside the bag,” he grinned at me. With shaking fingers, I untied the ribbon and pulled the top of the bag open. I reached inside and pulled out the most beautiful necklace I’d ever seen. The delicate chain was black in color; a dark metal I didn’t recognize. From the chain hung a large oval pendant of the same metal, made up of swirls and loops that encased an oval blue-green colored gemstone.

  “It’s an aquamarine,” he told me in almost a whisper. The beauty of it illuminated the gazebo with a brilliance I could feel deep down in my heart. As I placed it in my hand to get a better look, my skin tingled under its weight. It had a very gothic quality to it and I could tell it was as old as the box it came in.

  “Finn.” Completely at a loss for words, all I could do was stare at it. “This is….I can’t take this.”

  “Of course you can. It belongs to you now.” He was peering at me with curiosity. “Plus, it matches your dress.”

  “My dress?” Last time I checked I didn’t have on a dress.

  “The one you’re going to wear to the Ball.” I felt myself smile as I realized what he was saying.

  “Are you asking me to the Cimmerian Shade Ball, Finn?”

  He took a step toward me, eyes never leaving mine. “Are you saying you’ll go with me, Stasia?”

  “I heard you don’t go to those kinds of things,” I challenged him.

  “I don’t.” He moved even closer to me, gently taking the necklace and placing it back in the velvet bag. Pulling the ribbon closed, he dropped it into the pocket of my wind pants. His hand grazed my leg, sending sparks all the way down to my feet. Holding my gaze, he pulled the hat off my head and brushed my wet hair back from my shoulders. I waited for his fingers to get caught in the mass of tangles I knew had been created by the wind, but thankfully that didn’t happen. The thought brought on a nervous smile and he grinned back at me. His eyes dropped to my lips and when they met mine again, they were stormy and filled with white hot desire. He took my hand.

  “Will you go to the Cimmerian Shade Ball with me Anastasia?” he asked in a low voice.

  “Yes,” I breathed, lost completely in his closeness. A voice in the back of my head reassured me that if he was asking me to the ball, he didn’t plan on ending my life; which was a plus. He smiled, picked me up and spun me around. I placed my hands on either side of his cheeks and slowly leaned down to give him a kiss. It was just a light peck, but his soft lips ignited a fire inside me. Still holding me, he sat down on the wooden bench of the gazebo. I straddled him as he leaned back against the railing, pulling me close. He lightly kissed the tender skin below my ear, sending a frenzy of sensations through my body. He made his way up my chin and toward my mouth. I closed my eyes, anticipating a kiss that didn’t come.

  I opened my eyes to see that his were filled with a painful conflict I didn’t understand. I touched his cheek and watched as the pain slowly receded. The raw vulnerability I saw in his eyes would haunt me forever. It was a look I knew well. I had seen it many times in my own reflection.

  When all of your defenses are stripped away, the only thing left is surrender. Only then can you see the true size of the burden a person carries. Only then can you see the toll it has taken on their soul.

  His silent pleas broke my heart.

  “You don’t have to be
strong all of the time, Finn.” I didn’t know why, but I felt it was what he needed to hear. His eyes searched mine and he smiled. I could feel the special bond we already shared growing stronger with each passing moment. With a slowness that threatened to make the fire inside me explode, he kissed me. What started out as slow and gentle quickly turned in to something more urgent and powerful. A low moan sounded from deep within him and he unzipped my jacket, pushing it down and off my arms. I felt his hand at the small of my back; the tips of his fingers dangerously low, as his other hand pulled the strap of my tank top off my shoulder. With a hunger that was almost tangible, he ran his lips along my collarbone and shoulder, licking the same spot, sending waves of pleasure through me.

  Bringing his mouth to mine, I gently kissed his bottom lip, then the top. He bit my lip lightly and gave it a tug, then began kissing me in earnest again. A longing so strong took hold of me; all I could do was feel. I ran my fingers through his soft hair and clutched a handful, eagerly holding his lips to mine. He ran his hands up my thighs, gripped my waist, and slid my body closer; pressing me against him. I felt his body tense and he broke our kiss, leaning his forehead against mine; leaving both of us breathing hard. He slowly opened his eyes.

  “You have no idea what you do to me ,” he said as he looked up at me with restraint. He stood and lowered me to my feet in front of him. He straightened, took both my hands with a slight smirk, and suddenly looked very regal. He extended his arms and stepped back as if dancing, bringing me back towards him, then lifted one hand above my head and spun me around. He caught my waist awkwardly and dipped me dramatically. The blood rushed to my head and a giggle escaped my lips.

  “If we have to actually dance at the Ball, you’re in trouble,” I laughed at him.

  He stood me upright, bowed and with a horrible French/English accent grinned up at me.

  “Right you are, mademoiselle.”

  Chapter 21

  “Yep, just as I suspected,” Carmen placed her palm on my forehead, “two degrees above crazy.”

  Although Finn had cloaked me all the way back to the dorm, the damage to my clothes and hair had been done. I heard a fork drop and several gasps when I walked back in to our suite. Their breakfast plates were immediately abandoned, as Carmen started in on a game of twenty questions and Willow practically threw me in the shower, mumbling something about me getting sick. Once in dry clothes, I found a blanket and made myself a nice cozy spot on the couch beside Phoebe.

  “I hope he had a good reason for dragging you out in to the middle of a hurricane!” Willow scowled at me. “He needs a lesson in common sense.”

  “Well if you call asking me to the Ball and giving me a necklace a good reason, than I guess he did.” I grinned and heard Phoebe squeal beside me. She jumped across the couch and wrapped her arms around me.

  “We get to go together! We have to find dresses! Oh my God, this is going to be so much fun! We can go shopping tomorrow if the hurricane’s gone, and I need to find some jewelry too-“

  “Calm down Cinderella, you don’t even know if she said yes…” Carmen interrupted her.

  They looked at me in anticipation.

  “Well, duh.” I rolled my eyes and Phoebe squealed again, “But look what he gave me…Isn’t it the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?” I pulled the necklace out of its velvet bag.

  “Does he have any cute brothers?” Carmen’s face lit up.

  “Stasia, that is so romantic,” Phoebe gushed, “I mean he gave you a necklace and asked you out in the middle of a hurricane!”

  “I’m seriously beginning to worry about you guys,” Willow sighed from the arm chair and looked up from her laptop with discord, “Being asked out in the middle of a hurricane is not romantic.

  It’s totally reckless and irresponsible.”

  “And totally hot,” added Carmen. “Let me see that necklace” She turned it over in her hand a couple times. “It looks old. Does it belong to somebody in his family?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. All he said is that it belongs to me now.” I contemplated her question. It seemed ludicrous to think he’d given me something of that much value. I’d been seeing him for three years in my dreams, but we just officially met less than two weeks ago.

  “I got it!” Willow bounced in her chair, pointing at her laptop screen. Before we could ask her what she was talking about, she bolted into her bedroom. She came back with a notebook and the piece of paper that had belonged to Nicolet, rolling it out flat on the coffee table.

  “It’s written in an early form of the Greek language,” she explained to us, “so all I have to do is find a website to tell me exactly how early….” She began writing furiously, looking from the screen to her notebook and back again.

  “Oh, good. One less thing for me to figure out.” Carmen pointed at all of us, “Start saving up your money, cause you’ll be paying for my meal at the nicest restaurant on the east coast.” She grinned and turned her attention back to the necklace. “What kind of stone is this?”

  “It’s an aquamarine. He told me before that it stands for courage and….” My breath caught and I looked up, “...foresight.”

  “Do you think he knows you might have….?” Phoebe blinked at me.

  “I never told him. I mean, I just figured it out last night. How could he possibly know?”

  “Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” Carmen suggested. “I mean we don’t know for sure you actually have foresight.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  “That’s a really big coincidence, if you ask me,” Phoebe commented as she peeked over Willow’s shoulder. I leaned back on the couch, my mind reeling. Even if no one else believed me, I knew it was true. I knew I had seen into the future. Twice. Was it possible that Finn knew it too? He knew I could breathe underwater, so it wouldn’t be a long shot. How could he know so much about me? Who was he?

  * * *

  The next day as storm clouds gave way to partly cloudy skies, we decided it would be the perfect day for dress shopping, since classes had been cancelled again. Although the storm surge was prevented, the wind had still caused damage to trees and anything else not bolted down. While the maintenance crews cleaned up the campus, we took the ferry to the mainland. We piled into Carmen’s black Audi and headed to some boutiques Carmen knew of in Wilmington. I honestly didn’t know what I was looking for since I’d never been to a Ball. I’d never been to the prom either, but I had a feeling the Cimmerian Shade Ball would be absolutely nothing like the dances back at home.

  Considering back in Atlanta, kids only stayed at the dances as long as their buzz lasted, which ended up being about thirty minutes. Then everyone left to go to the after party, which was the real event of the evening. The actual dance was more of pit stop and an excuse to get dressed up before the real fun began. Thanks to Laura Beth, I wasn’t usually invited to the after parties, so more often than not I didn’t bother going to the dance either. Why get all dressed up for nothing?

  But this was completely different. This wasn’t some high school dance with punch and streamers. It was a Ball. This was an exclusive event that had been held for countless generations. I wanted to look beautiful. Most importantly, I wanted to feel beautiful. I wasn’t just any normal human girl anymore; I was a descendent of the Nerieds. A Tyde. I was part of a legacy that had been established for centuries. I was finished hiding in the shadows, simply surviving. I was ready to live the life I deserved to live. After everything I’d been through, I was ready to be happy.

  We had gone to several boutiques before we realized that unless we wanted a wedding dress or a bridesmaid dress, we’d have to look elsewhere. After we stopped at Panera Bread for lunch, we decided to go to a shop Carmen had heard about that offered a more eclectic selection of gowns. After driving to an outlying swampy area, we sat in Carmen’s car staring up at a daunting Victorian manor surrounded by live oak trees with Spanish moss draped on their branches and two sprawling cemeteries. The house itself had been neglec
ted over the years and showed signs of wear. The paint was peeling off of the exterior and several black shutters hung from their hinges. The wraparound porch had warped in several places, giving it a wavy appearance.

  “Are you sure about this Carmen?” Willow hesitated. Carmen shrugged her shoulders and looked out at the tombstones warily.

  “I heard she’s off her rocker, but she makes rockin’ dresses,” she laughed at her own joke.

  “I have a bad feeling some of her customers ended up with a permanent address in her cemeteries,” Phoebe scrunched up her nose.

  “You guys are so dramatic,” I sighed, and opened the car door. “We’ve got her outnumbered four to one.” My stomach was a little queasy with nerves, but I tried hard not to let on.

  “All I’m saying is that if she comes at me with scissors or a butcher knife, I’m out.” Phoebe put her hands up. As we walked down the winding sidewalk toward the house, I noticed a sign above the door that simply read “Seamstress”. It reminded me of an old western town with signs above the doors that just read ‘Blacksmith’ or ‘General Store’. The old weathered tombstones near the house added to the nostalgia. Before I could knock, the door swung open.

  A demure woman in her early forties with long, straight black hair and large blue eyes stepped out of the door to greet us. She wore a dark red dress with a black lace overlay across the bodice, giving her a slightly medieval look. It hung on her thin figure and pooled down at her feet. Twenty or thirty bracelets hung on both of her arms and a large red stone hung from a long necklace. She was strikingly beautiful.

  “Hello,” she gave us a warm smile. “May I help you girls with something today?”

  “Um, we were hoping to look at some dresses?” Phoebe squeaked.

  “Of course, of course.” She stepped aside and gestured for us to come in. “My name is Natasha. The dresses are upstairs, so feel free to go on up and take a look. I’ll join you shortly.” I followed her eyes to a wide antique staircase. Above it, a gothic looking chandelier with candles hung precariously. The interior of the house had been given more attention than the exterior, but I could tell nothing had been changed from the original house. Expansive wool rugs covered the hardwood floors, and faded black and white photographs watched us from the walls as we passed by. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we had just arrived in to a different era. We made our way up the creaking stairs as she disappeared into a room that I assumed was the kitchen.