Gravitational Pull (Vis Vires, book 2) (Vis Vires trilogy)

by Marissa Carmel

  “Can’t be touched, or don’t want to be touched?” she asks sternly.

  “Is there a difference?” I say dejectedly. “Either way, damaged goods.”

  “Alivyanna Joy Christianni!” Jocelyn leans over the counter and grabs me by the arms. Whoa, how’d she know my full name?

  “You are not damaged goods,” she shakes me firmly. “You are a bright, beautiful young woman who has her whole life ahead of her. You just need to move on.”

  “Move on to where?”

  Jocelyn exhales long and loud. “Liv, you need some new perspective. I know Justice breaking up with you has been hard, but you have to look at it as him leaving being your new beginning.”

  “I’ve never really been good at new beginnings,” I say skeptically.

  She rolls her eyes.

  “You’re coming to Devonshire with us. I’ve decided,” she declares. “And no arguments.”

  “What?! I can’t go anywhere Jocelyn! Nikkee’s wedding is this weekend.”

  “I said no arguments,” she glares.

  “But-”

  “Nope, Liv, you need a change of scenery,” she leans over the counter and gets in my face. “And I think another realm is the perfect place to do that.”

  Realm?

  Up in the Air

  Melenia and Jocelyn help me pack, seeing as I am a little, okay, incredibly slow moving this morning. I try to drink my coffee, brush my teeth and pull on pants all at the same time as I am now being rushed around my apartment. So much for lying down.

  Melenia pulls racks of clothes out of the closet. “What do you want to bring?”

  “I don’t know, what’s the weather like in Devonshire?” I ask. Devonshire - Melenia’s REALM.

  Melenia pauses, her almond eyes studying me. “It’s…nice.” “Nice how?” I question. “Nice like a comfortable autumn day

  or a warm summer afternoon?”

  She looks at Jocelyn as if to say I have no idea, nor did I ever even think about it.

  Jocelyn grabs a variety of things out of the pile; this angel knows what she’s doing. Pants, shirts, shoes, dresses. Then she starts stuffing the rest of my suitcase with sexy little things.

  “Jocelyn! How many pairs of slutty underwear do I need?” “You never know,” she tells me, slapping the carry-on shut. I bristle; I have an overwhelmingly bad feeling about this.

  Nikkee’s wedding extravaganza is in six days. That gives me five days to find perspective, as Jocelyn has ordered me to do. Fat

  chance. My role in Nikkee’s wedding is the only thing that’s keeping me together, it’s the only thing that gives me any sense of purpose, and I can’t help but feel a little selfish taking off on her right before her big event.

  Jocelyn throws my suitcase into the truck of her BMW X5 and the three of us take off to The Cliffs. As I lay in the backseat combating motion sickness, an overwhelming feeling of dread takes over. I’m going to The Cliffs. I haven’t been there since mine and Justice’s untimely separation, and now it feels like I’m driving straight into a hungry lion’s den. Where he’ll be. I can’t stand to face him. I can’t stand to think about him; I can barely stand to look at him. It hurts too damn much. And after last night, I’m completely mortified to even be in the same zip code as him.

  I can feel the car veer off the road and onto the bend of The Cliff’s horseshoe driveway that I know all too well. I don’t even need to look at the mansion; I can picture its features in my head. A large white structure with Romanesque columns and immense double doors where two angelic figures are etched in stained glass; it’s imposing, intimidating and undeniably amazing. When Jocelyn and Melenia get out of the car and slam their doors my brain matter jiggles like Jell-O.

  “Do you want to come in or stay dying in the car?” Jocelyn asks through the half opened back window.

  “Car,” I mutter with my eyes hiding behind my blacked-out

  Wayfarer Ray-Bans.

  “He’s not here you know,” she says astutely.

  “I don’t care if he is,” I lie. Thank God for huge favors. “Well, we’ll be back in a few. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to,” I assure her. I am never, ever drinking again. Like, ever.

  As I lay in the back seat, the warm sea air soothes me. It flows through the open windows like a current carrying the scent of sand and salt. It’s so therapeutic.

  I’m almost asleep when a smooth voice speaks my name. “Hello, Liv.”

  I immediately jump back into consciousness and pull myself up to see who’s there.

  “Daniel you just scared the bejesus out of me!” I say with my hand over my thumping heart. Aayden was right; you never do know when he’s going to pop in.

  Daniel is the patriarch of the Seraphs. He is the oldest and by far the wisest of the angels. He is also the one who identified my emotional hypersensitivity as an ability. Empathy.

  “That was not my intention.” Daniel is sitting in the driver’s seat, surveying me through the rear view mirror with his bright amber eyes, eyes so astute they bring the wisdom of a man to his beautiful, boyish face.

  “How are you feeling?” He asks.

  “How does it look like I’m feeling?” I drop back down onto the leather seat.

  “Not so good.” He turns his body around to look at me. Then he leans over and casually runs his hand down my entire body causing it to glow with a warm, cathartic heat that tingles inside me as he heals my headache and sour stomach; remedying my hangover.

  “Better?” he asks in his placid tone. “Much,” I smile gratefully.

  “Too bad you can’t heal a broken heart,” I say dejectedly.

  Daniel gives me compassionate smile. “What I can’t heal, time can.”

  “I’m not so sure,” I contest.

  “Trust me, I’ve been on this earth a very long time,” he smirks mischievously. “I’ve learned a few things.”

  His statement is oddly consoling to me, despite the fact I’m not a firm believer that time heals all. Maybe that’s why I love being around Daniel, he’s so supportive and insightful. And I swear, his demeanor can put the even the most jittery nutcase at ease.

  Not that I’m a jittery nutcase anymore, but I do still have my moments.

  “I heard another power popped up,” he says intrigued.

  “If that’s the way you want to put it,” I quip. “Aayden says it’s unheard of for one body to have so many abilities.”

  “Aayden isn’t completely wrong,” he says as he slides his

  sandy brown hair off of his face. “I know you have some things

  going on in your life right now. But I would like you to accompany me to see Cross again sometime soon.”

  “Daniel, why?” I whine, lifting my sunglasses off my face. “Liv, your powers are growing at an alarming rate. In the

  hierarchy of magic only the most powerful beings wield multiple talents. And like Seraphs, Vis Vires are at the top of the food chain. There are almost none that rival our powers, or yours. But I can’t believe a race, thought to be extinct, is now surfacing so aggressively. Something feels very off.”

  I sit up in the back seat now. “What do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know,” he shakes his head uncertainly. “I don’t understand it. And I’m hoping Cross can help shed some light.”

  “Isn’t there anyone else, Daniel?” I plead.

  “There’s none more skilled than Cross. I’m sorry Liv, if I’m going to trust you with anyone, he’s my top choice.”

  I sigh my frustration.

  “I hope you trust me enough to know I only have your best interests at heart,” Daniel says with reassuring eyes.

  “I trust you. It’s Cross I don’t trust.”

  “Don’t worry Liv, I’ll be right there with you the whole time.” Is that supposed to make me feel better?

  Yes. Jittery nutcase at ease. Right.

  “Cross likes to put up a front,” Daniel goes on. “But believe<
br />
  me, he’s a very good person inside.”

  As much as I want to reject Daniel’s statement, I know what he says is true. I felt Cross. He can conceal his true self well. Very well. But I felt it when his guard toppled down, when the love for a woman, a dying, human woman brought his suppressed emotions surging to the surface.

  It has an expiration date.

  Those stupid words will haunt me forever.

  “Danika’s okay?” Jocelyn talks into her cell phone. I’m sitting just across the aisle from her and Melenia in first class. My first time on an airplane, not too shabby.

  The 747 rumbles and even though my hangover symptoms have been cured, I can’t help but feel a nervous sickness from the anticipation of takeoff. I hear the grumble of man’s voice on the other end of Jocelyn’s conversation. AJ.

  “You’ll watch her closely?” She asks again, I think it’s the third time. I hear AJ sigh. Even I’m annoyed.

  “Okay,” she says, a small smile paying across her lips. She dips her head down and her short blonde hair covers her face like a veil so I can’t see her expression. “Ya, you too. Bye.” She ends the call.

  I stare at her blatantly.

  She glances over at me. “What?” She insists.

  Where do I begin?

  “You have a serious attachment to that child,” I say.

  Her brow furrows, and I watch as she inwardly contemplates my statement. Melenia leans forward simultaneously and gives me a look that says - you’ve gone and done it now.

  Jocelyn’s facial expression changes into something heart- wrenching and I know whatever she’s thinking about isn’t good.

  “Joz?” I ask concerned. I never meant for my little crack to turn into a full-blown fracture.

  Jocelyn turns her head slightly to look at me, and I don’t believe what I see. Tears are swimming in her faceted blue eyes. Just then the flight attendant’s voice comes over the loud speakers, interrupting us. She proceeds to direct everyone’s attention to the exit signs, shows us how to put on the oxygen mask in case of an event, and where our flotation device is under our seat. I think I need an oxygen mask just watching this, because I had no idea how many things could go wrong on a plane aside from it just falling out of the sky.

  Jocelyn is quiet as we taxi down the runway, and as much as I want to ask her if she is okay, it will have to wait until we are in the air, because right now I am bracing myself as my body gets thrust back into the seat, my head becomes light and my ear drums pop like boardwalk balloons. Uncomfortable. Once airborne, my head regulates as we finish the climb to thirty-five

  thousand feet. Holy crap, I look out the window and down at the

  white puffy clouds; never in my life did I ever think I would fly. Then again, never did I imagine I would meet angels or pixies, get hunted by a Spirit Stalker, or possess magical powers. So I guess anything’s possible.

  After a few minutes of me staring aimlessly out the window at wisps of clouds and at a flat blue Atlantic Ocean, Jocelyn comes and sits in the empty seat next to me.

  “Hey,” she says timidly.

  “Hey,” I respond immediately. “I’m sorry I upset you.” “It wasn’t you really, just a thought from my past.” “That I triggered.”

  Jocelyn sighs defeated. “It’s triggered whenever Danika is concerned.”

  “What does that mean?” I question.

  She gives me a telling look, and I know she’s about to launch into a story. A story she has always been hesitant to tell me. A story with an unhappy ending.

  “I was fifteen years old. What did I know?” she begins.

  “No one knows anything at fifteen,” I joke, and Jocelyn smiles.

  “It was 1925, Chicago, and it was an electrifying time,” Jocelyn reminisces. “I’m sure you’ve heard the term roaring twenties?” She asks, and I nod, never taking my eyes off her luminous skin or wounded expression. “Well that term describes

  it perfectly. Everything was changing, it was the height of

  economic growth, prohibition was fueling a rebellion against authority, suffrage gave women the right to vote and the writings of Sigmund Freud and Ellis Key changed the face of sexual ideals for people everywhere.”

  I almost feel transported back in time to the exhilarating environment she paints with her words.

  “I grew up in a tiny suburb right outside Chicago, so I witnessed firsthand the evolution of the modern day. By the time I was fifteen, I was working as a cigarette girl at a prominent speakeasy in the city. I had a childhood friend Nathan, whose older brother ran the joint, and so I basically walked right into the position.” Jocelyn smiles and it’s clear it is a fond memory. “It was the best time of my life,” she looks up at me intensely. I’m familiar with that intensity; it’s the same look I’ve seen on Justice when something so deep-rooted in his soul comes rushing to the surface. “Nathan hung around a lot while I was working, constantly watching me as I sold cigarettes and cigars to drunk customers. I loved his over protectiveness and soon what was just a friendship became something so much more.” Her sapphire eyes twinkle.

  “After a few months of working for Nathan’s brother, Jack, and dating Nathan, the speakeasy became like a second home to me. I could pretty much come and go as I pleased, and I did. That was the biggest mistake of my human life.” The plane hits some

  turbulence and we bounce at thirty-five-thousand feet in the air.

  My heart leaps into my throat as I grab onto the armrests for support, my whole body tenses. “Don’t worry Liv, you’re perfectly safe,” Jocelyn comforts me. “The plane isn’t the only thing that can fly,” she whispers. Say what? If I wasn’t fearing for my life at the moment, I would have paid more attention to her comment.

  After a few heart pounding moments, the plane steadies and we start soaring smoothly again. I let go of the armrests and breathe out the mouthful of air I am holding in.

  Scary.

  “Why was that the biggest mistake of your human life?” I ask, begging for a distraction.

  Jocelyn’s gaze gets lost in the window behind me. “You have to understand I was naïve,” she says. “I didn’t understand what was going on behind the scenes of the club or what Jack was involved in. Speakeasies didn’t just sell liquor illegally, most of them were run by organized crime. And being the idiot I was, I walked right into Jack’s back office at possibly the worst time ever,” she frowns, and the expression looks uncharacteristic on her beautiful face. “When I opened the door, Jack was standing there with three men I didn’t recognize. They were all dressed in expensive suits with a mess of guns and money and booze laid out all over the room. Jack yelled at me to get out, and I did, quickly, but somewhere deep down I knew I had just sealed my

  fate. I didn’t even make it down the back stairs before someone

  was grabbing me by the hair and dragging me outside behind the building.” Jocelyn shifts a little closer to me in the seat, and I can see the tears starting to well in her eyes again. “I remember it hurt,” she whispers feebly, and my heart smashes to pieces. I’ve only known Jocelyn as this strong, confident, feral creature, but right now, I can see the remnants of that naive fifteen year old girl breaking through.

  “Joz, I’m so sorry,” I say, fighting back my own emotion. “That’s not the worst part.” She looks down at her hands

  knotted in her lap and then back up to me. “I was pregnant.” My jaw pops open.

  And now I understand.

  “I never even got the chance to tell Nathan. And I wanted that baby so badly, Liv.” A tear drips from her eye, and I swear, as it falls, it glints like sheet metal reflecting off the sun.

  “Jocelyn!” I repeat, as I throw myself at her; a sobbing mess. “It’s okay Liv,” she pets my hair consolingly as I hug her

  tightly. As we touch, all I can feel is her despairing emotion drill through my insides.

  How did this happen? She’s bearing her soul, and I’m the one balling like an idiot.

  “Wo
uld you like some water?” The stewardess asks as I pull away from Jocelyn and wipe my eyes.

  “Yes, please,” I answer meekly, as the last bit of Jocelyn’s

  emotion evaporates inside me from our skin’s separation.

  “Your first time flying?” the impeccably dressed attendant asks me sympathetically.

  “Um, yes,” I answer her as I take the glass of water, feeling foolish.

  “Turbulence gets first time flyers every time,” she tells Jocelyn before she walks away.

  “Lady, you have no idea about this girl and turbulence,” Jocelyn says sarcastically when the attendant is out of earshot.

  “Joz,” I hit her lightly, grinning.

  The fasten seatbelt sign dings and Jocelyn jolts, eliminating the light-hearted moment. I can see the heaviness of our conversation reclaims it’s place on her heart as she gets up to go back to her seat. She throws me a melancholy look right before she fastens her seatbelt. Then she just stares straight ahead with a disenchanted expression on her face.

  Melenia glances over at me with reproachful almond eyes. She doesn’t say much, but it’s never hard to tell what she’s thinking.

  And right now, she’s thinking I just had to go there.

  “You’re where?!” Nikkee goes into shock over the phone. I waited until I was out of the country to call her. I felt it was safer this way.

  “Ireland.”

  “What on God’s green earth are you doing in Ireland!?” “I needed to get away.” It’s a dismal excuse, but true.

  “I don’t even want to know how you ended up in Ireland, seeing as how you don’t have a passport,” Nikkee accuses. “Are you with Justice?”