by Cyndi Tefft
“You shouldn’t eat so fast,” Mom said. And just like that, the easy mood between us deteriorated. As if her lithe dancer body compared to my own plump curves was not reminder enough. It was probably a good thing I’d burned my tongue, since I’d just lost my appetite anyway.
Absently chewing on a fry—no, ‘chip’—I swiveled to watch the television to avoid talking with my mom about my weight. The game got interrupted by a breaking news report.
“Authorities are investigating a string of sudden deaths that have occurred over the last few hours,” the announcer said. “According to news sources, hundreds of people across the globe have collapsed without warning and could not be revived. The cause of death is still unknown, but some have speculated we might be looking at a new strain of airborne virus, though the link between the deaths is still uncertain. Jane Moore is reporting from Edinburgh, where she’s speaking with the family members of one of the victims. Jane?”
The screen switched and a polished woman with immaculate lipstick and a helmet of unmoving brown hair appeared, microphone in hand.
“Thanks, John. I’m at the home of Helen MacDonald who passed away earlier this morning. Her son, Justin, is here with me. Justin, can you tell us what happened?” She pasted on a look of professional concern as she pointed the microphone toward the young man’s mouth. He looked like he’d been crying, but was also strangely excited to be on TV.
“Um, well, she was reading a book to her granddaughter, my daughter, Sophie, there.” He pointed and the camera swung toward a toddler with tight brown curls. “I think it was Hop on Pop. I’m not sure.” He shook his head and continued on. “And then she just fell over on the couch like she’d had a heart attack or something. But the paramedics said it wasn’t that. They don’t know what happened to her. She’s just… gone.” Grief shone in his red-rimmed eyes and my heart clutched in sympathy for him. “We thought we’d lost her that one time before, when she got really sick and nearly died, but she pulled through.”
“She nearly died before?” the news reporter prompted.
“Yeah, a few years ago. She had pneumonia and her heart stopped for a minute. She told us later that she did die, that she went to this beautiful place but the guide who met her there—she called him a transporter—he told her it wasn’t her time and sent her back. And she hasn’t been sick since. I just don’t know what would have caused this.”
Hearing the man on the television say the word “transporter” sent a jolt of alarm through me. I hadn’t realized that anyone else knew that term. Of course, I’d read about people having near death experiences, I’d just never really put the two together. When they flashed a picture of the woman on the screen, I couldn’t help but wonder if Aiden had met her the first time, if he’d been the one who’d sent her back.
Aiden...
I thought of the realm in between and the way he’d looked at me while we’d danced at the palace of Versailles, like everything he’d ever wanted in life, he’d found in me. Guilt over how I’d treated him since last night washed over me in waves. Yes, I was hurt and scared, but I was acting like he’d purposefully cheated on me. Sitting next to him at breakfast, I’d refused to meet his eyes. I didn’t even say goodbye when Mom and I left this morning. He’d called out for me to be safe as we were leaving, but I’d pretended not to hear. None of this was his fault and I’d completely cut him off.
Suddenly, all I wanted was to see him again, to apologize, to feel his arms around me. Whatever happened, we would face it together. He needed to know that I still loved him.
The reporter’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “It remains to be seen how this tragedy may be linked to the other deaths, but either way, Christmas won’t be the same this year for the MacDonald family. I’m Jane Moore, reporting from Edinburgh. Back to you, John.”
“We have to go.” Swiping my mouth with a napkin, I stood up.
“What? Why?” Mom still had half her lunch to finish.
“I need to talk to Aiden.”
With a dramatic sigh, Mom glanced longingly at her food and picked up her purse. I resisted the urge to tell her she should eat faster.
By the time we got back to the MacKinnons’ castle, I was nearly bursting with tension like a shaken soda can. I raced around, asking everyone if they knew where Aiden was. No one had seen him. Taking deep breaths to calm down, I tried to put myself in his shoes. Where would I go? And just like that, I knew.
Borrowing Mom’s rental car, I drove like a maniac through the winding Scottish roads to Eilean Donan, praying that I wouldn’t get in an accident with some semi-truck on the treacherous, skinny path. As the familiar stone castle came into view, I let out the breath I’d been holding. Aiden was there. I felt it in my bones. Everything was going to be okay.
After parking the car and grabbing a ticket for entry, I stepped quickly through the castle, which was mostly deserted. My heart was in my throat as I went from one room to the next, hoping I would find him. When I got to the main hall and still didn’t see Aiden, I let out a growl of frustration. He wasn’t there. Where the hell had he gone? Slumping into one of the chairs along the wall, I indulged in a little pity party, glad there were no tourists around to witness my mental breakdown.
“Lindsey?” Aiden’s voice floated down to me from the small balcony overlooking the room. Relief surged in my chest at seeing him, knowing I had found him and would have the chance to tell him how I felt. But I didn’t need to. Our eyes locked and everything I needed to say was already there: grief, fear, guilt, forgiveness. We didn’t say a word—out loud or in our minds—and a sense of peace settled deep in my soul.
He turned and descended the stairs while I got to my feet and moved toward the corner where I knew he’d emerge. I didn’t need to say “I’m sorry” but I did it anyway.
“I am as well. I love you,” he said before he pulled me into his arms. His heart beat fast against my cheek. The gaping wound in my heart that had separated us since the night before quietly mended while I took deep breaths, filling my senses with the warm scent that was so Aiden. When we pulled away to look at each other, instead of talking, he lowered his mouth to mine and we kissed in the great hall.
Nothing else matters. Only this.
Afterward, we wandered through the castle, stopping to look at tapestries and artwork on the walls, Aiden commenting here and there how things differed from his childhood memories.
“Mrs. Fitzgibbons, the cook, would smack my knuckles with her wooden spoon whenever I tried to sneak a bit of bread before supper,” he said with a soft smile as we headed into the kitchen.
“Have you had any lunch?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nae, I hadn’t the appetite for it earlier. You?”
I told him about the pub where Mom and I had stopped to eat, then mentioned the newscast we’d seen. “It was weird. When the guy mentioned that his mom had met a transporter before she was brought back to life, I wondered if maybe you’d met her,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.
Aiden got a strange, intense look on his face. “Ye said that others have been taken suddenly, without warning?”
“Yeah, they think it might be a virus or something. Why?” The way he straightened up and dropped my hand was starting to freak me out. “What’s the matter?”
“Did they say when the deaths started?”
I shook my head, running back through the newscast in my mind. “Um, I don’t know… I think she said earlier this morning.”
Aiden squeezed his eyes shut tight like he’d hit his thumb with a hammer and was straining to keep from swearing. It was only after I heard his whispered “Amen” that I realized he was praying.
“Aiden?” I asked, trying to keep the panic that was starting to swirl inside me from taking hold.
He moved to close the door to the kitchen and leaned against it with a heavy sigh.
“Don’t you see? I was afraid this might happen,” he said.
“See what? What are you
talking about?”
“The hell transporter. She got what she came for. A child.”
“What? How do you know that? And besides, even if she did…” The words ‘get pregnant’ stuck in my throat, so I skipped over them. “It would be nine months before the baby was even born. It just happened last night, for crying out loud! And how could the baby have anything to do with these deaths? You’re not making any sense. They can’t be related.”
“When you died and met me in Between, how long were you there? How many days?”
I shrugged, feeling defensive. “I don’t know. Five days, a week, something like that.”
“Right. And when you came back, how long had you been gone?”
We both knew the answer to that question. I was revived at the scene of the accident. It was as if I’d never died at all, as though hardly any time had passed.
“So what? That doesn’t prove anything.” I was being belligerent, I knew, but I didn’t like where this was going and denial seemed the safest route.
“Time is not the same there as it is here,” he said. “A day can be like a thousand years, and a thousand years like a day. The child could be fully grown this very moment.”
The fish and chips I’d eaten earlier congealed into a hard lump in my belly.
“But even if that were true,” I held up one hand to ward off his protest, “I don’t see how that has anything to do with the newscast, with the deaths.”
“When Mona held us at gunpoint in that warehouse, she said that the offspring of a heaven transporter and a hell transporter would rule the realm in Between and that the master of hell had already laid claim to the child. What do you suppose she meant by that?”
Mention of that horrific day when I thought we were both going to die brought a flurry of emotions to the surface. I stuffed them down as best I could, but my voice wobbled when I answered. “I don’t know.”
“Nor do I. But I’ve a sense that none of it is for the good. If my suspicions are correct and the babe was indeed born, he’ll be naught but a pawn in the devil’s plan to wreak havoc on Earth and the Between realm as well.”
“So what does that mean? Is he going to open up some kind of portal and send leagues of demons out here to kill us all? Would a transporter baby even give him that kind of power?” My mind whirled with possibilities of what that could entail.
“I don’t know. She said the babe would rule the realm in Between, not this one.”
“But you think he’s killing people here on Earth. How could he do that?”
“Perhaps his power extends only those who bear the stamp of the other world, those who’ve been before.”
I gasped out loud as his prediction became clear. “Like us, you mean?”
“Aye. Like us.”
Chapter 5
The mood back at the MacKinnons’ house was festive and joyful, in stark contrast to the worry buzzing around my skull. Relatives were arriving in a steady stream, bringing with them shouts of greetings, hugs, and gifts by the crate-load. I remembered seeing some of them at the wedding, but as Ian introduced me and we shook hands, I knew there was no way I would remember all of their names. One little girl seemed fascinated with me. She looked to be about three years old, with pig tails, a round face and huge brown eyes.
“I’m Celia,” she announced, blinking up at me through thick lashes.
I squatted down to her level. “Hi, Celia. I’m Lindsey.” Being a single child and not having spent much time around kids, I wasn’t sure what the correct protocol was from here. Do we shake hands? Hug? Just smile at each other? I waited for her cue.
Celia pointed to Aiden, who was standing beside me, a sweet smile touching his lips. “Did you really marry him?”
Laughing, I assured her that I had.
“Why?” she pushed.
Her question caught me off guard. Were kids always this forward? She was too funny. Of course, the answer was simple. “Because I love him.”
She nodded thoughtfully, then brightened. “Would you sit next to me at dinner?”
Apparently, we were BFFs now. The grin on my face was starting to ache. “I’d love to.”
“She’s not bothering you, I hope.” A woman I could only assume was Celia’s mom came over and put an arm on her shoulder.
I stood up from my crouched position. “No, no. She’s adorable.” The woman introduced herself as Helen and we shook hands.
“We’re gonna sit together at dinner,” Celia announced proudly.
“Oh, you are, are you?” her mom replied. “Well, we’d better get you washed up and ready then.” With an apologetic smile to me, Helen took the little girl’s hand and turned away. Celia waved to me frantically as if somehow I’d forget our date.
I waved back.
Aiden’s hand slid down my other arm until his fingers intertwined with mine. The worry and stress that had been weighing me down lifted just enough that I could release the tension in my shoulders. I still had no idea what we were going to do—if there was anything we could do—but at least Celia had taken my mind off our discovery for a minute.
When it came time for dinner later that evening, I tracked down Joanne MacKinnon to let her know of my promise to sit next to Celia. I was afraid that there with this many people, we’d have assigned seating and I didn’t want to break the little girl’s heart.
“Celia is Mark’s niece. Isn’t she a sweetheart?” Joanne said with a glowing expression. As I nodded, she said, “Here’s what we’ll do. You and Aiden can sit next to me and Mark, then I’ll put Celia and the rest of her family down that side.” When I thanked her, she looked me over with motherly concern. “Are you feeling better now?”
I had to rack my brain for a moment to figure out what she meant. She couldn’t know about the fight I’d had with Aiden or the hell transporter, could she? Am I that easy to read?
“You said you weren’t feeling well at breakfast,” she supplied.
Relief coursed through me. “Right. Yes, I’m feeling better, thanks. Must have been something I ate last night.” When her face creased in a frown, I quickly added, “At the bar. Bar food. Not your food. Your food’s great.” Okay, I felt like the world’s biggest dork.
She touched me on the arm. “Well, I’m glad to hear you’re better now, no matter the cause.” With a gentle squeeze of her fingers, she left to take care of the dinner preparations.
Christmas back home had always been a pretty small event, since I didn’t have any siblings or a large extended family. We usually went to my grandparents’ house and they all sat around watching me open gifts. It was the Lindsey Show from sun up to whenever I finished. The floor would be covered in crumpled wrapping paper and ribbons and everyone would be exhausted from doing nothing but smiling and talking.
Two years ago, all of that changed when my parents got divorced. The first Christmas after they split, my dad tried to plaster on a fake smile and make like everything was fine. It was a miserable failure. He bought me an obscene amount of gifts to try and compensate, but I didn’t care about any of them. All I wanted was everything to be back the way it was before. I didn’t even go to my mom’s place that year. She wanted me to, but I refused. I know it hurt her, but she hurt me. No, she hurt us. Me and Dad both. Grandma and Grandpa, too. All of us. She deserted us and that was something I couldn’t forgive. She said it wasn’t about me, that it was between her and my dad, that she’d always love me, but I didn’t care. She wouldn’t have done it if she really loved me. She wouldn’t have cheated on him with Nick.
I hadn’t been in love before and it all seemed pretty black and white to me at the time. Mom was the bad guy; Dad was the good guy. Nick…ugh, Nick. He was the even worse guy. I hated him. It was really all his fault. My mom would never have left us if it hadn’t been for him. He stole her. That’s what I thought, and putting everyone in these boxes helped me cope with the disaster that had become my home life.
But then there was the car accident when I died and met Aid
en in the realm in between Earth and heaven. I fell for him hard. Like I-would-give-up-heaven-for-you hard. I’d had a boyfriend before the accident, but I wasn’t in love with him. I’d never been in love with anyone until I met Aiden. And I would do whatever it took to be with him. When I was brought back to life, I was shattered. Nothing mattered without Aiden. School, friends, music—I didn’t care about anything anymore.
Last Christmas, I was in a hospital bed after the accident. My parents screamed at each other right in front of me, calling each other names. I couldn’t believe it. I’d just lost Aiden and had been brought back for that? To hear them hating on each other on Christmas Day in the hospital? It was the start of the blackest time of my life, but it gave me a better understanding of what my mom sacrificed to go after the man she wanted and why. Of course, Nick didn’t turn out to be what she thought and I could see now that she regretted her choice. She thought it was too late to fix what she had broken.
A quick glance across the dinner table made it clear she was so wrong about that. My dad was hanging on her every word, looking happier than I’d seen him in years. He’d take her back in a heartbeat. And even though she left us, even though she threw a grenade into my childhood memories of a happy family, I wanted her back, too. I loved her. And if it would make Dad keep smiling like that, I’d do whatever she asked.
“But I don’t like peas!” Celia exclaimed beside me, poking a hole in my thoughts. Her mom put a scoop on her plate anyway and I could see Celia was half a second from melting down.
“Helen, I’d love some peas,” I said, making sure Celia could hear me. I held out my plate. Helen dished out a grateful smile along with my veggies.
Celia’s budding tantrum dwindled to a sniffle as she watched me, those brown eyes taking in my every move.