The Complete Set

by Ainsley Shay

  “I hope this isn’t too creepy, me showing up on your doorstep at four-thirty in the morning.”

  “Creepier things have happened.” His smile touched his eyes, and simultaneously, every other part of me, too. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive than in those countless seconds of staring into his eyes. It was like he knew every secret, every moment that had ever happened in my life. He pushed open the door and gestured for me to enter. I did. As I passed him, I caught a glimpse of the pendant resting in the hollow of his throat. Unconsciously, I took a sharp intake of breath. It was exactly the one from my dream. I shook my head and tried to conjure some rational explanation. I had to have glimpsed it before and tucked the image into the layers of my subconscious. No, I haven’t. I felt positive I had never seen it.

  He must have seen my face. “I know they can be a little intimidating at first.” Still in shock at seeing the pendant, I barely noticed the dozen or so statues that he was referring to. I was so distracted by the necklace that I was startled when he spoke to me. He reached up to stroke the pendant at his throat as if he’d known I was thinking about it. He turned it over and rubbed his thumb against the smooth surface of the stone. The gesture immediately reminded me of my dream—the way his muscles formed perfect peaks on his arms, chest, and stomach as he stood over me. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “Yeah, that’d be great.”

  “I don’t have sugar cubes.”

  “Granules are just as sweet.”

  I pushed the thought of the pendant from my head and focused on what was in front me, statues. All of them were the same light color. The house was peculiar, unique, welcoming, frightening, eerie, and homey, all at once. “People had said she was an artist, a sculptor. But...” I trailed off, trying to process what I was actually looking at. It was surreal in a way that made absolutely no sense. I made another attempt. “I don’t think anyone, including myself, could ever imagine what she did here unless you witness this in person.” I was so taken aback by what surrounded me. I hadn’t realized Blacwin was standing behind me. Somewhere in the time he left to put on coffee, he’d put on a shirt. One less distraction was a good thing. Right?

  “Adelina was a master with a carving knife,” he said.

  The word master should have evoked the highest regard to someone’s craft. But, the word still fell short of what Adelina deBlays was capable of. I felt like I was in the center of a museum, not someone’s home. The statues were more like people frozen in time than carved out of stone. “Do you know anything about them?”

  “That’s one of the reasons I wanted her journals.”

  “Have you learned anything?”

  “A little. But not as much as had hoped.”

  Blacwin handed me the journal numbered fourteen and went back into the kitchen. I hadn’t noticed before how intricate the design on the leather cover was until now. A few of the pages I thumbed through were dog-eared. I felt like I was intruding into her private world, and it felt wrong. Scanning one of the entries dated October 12, 1914, I did a double take at the date. That had to be written wrong. I looked at the date of the entry prior. “This can’t be right,” I whispered to no one. It was dated September 10, 1914, and the one after was dated November 5, 1914. Needle-like pricks scampered up my spine. “Are you sure these are the Adelina deBlays’ journals that lived here?” I called out to Blacwin.

  “I can only assume. It’s not a common name.”

  He did have a point. The last time I saw Adelina was during the summer. She had come into the store to make an appointment with Mr. Yves to have the books from her home picked up. She did not look like she was a hundred years old; she looked to be in her early twenties. Still baffled, I laid the journal on a small table next to the couch. I touched the bare outstretched arm of a woman. The stone was cool and smooth. I wanted to go back over every conversation that I ever had about her and tell them she wasn’t a crazy hermit; she was a genius. It dawned on me then, why she let people believe that she was crazy, they would stay away from her and her collection of statues that she cherished as if they were her family.

  I walked through the living room and dining room, statues filled the rooms of the entire house. I was surrounded by men with woman in their arms, men in battle, women in ball gowns, women wearing nothing at all; their sleek bodies swayed to the inaudible music. The statues were the only decor besides a chair in the sitting room and a table for two off the kitchen. This had to be the strangest and most remarkable place I had ever been.

  Blacwin handed me a mug. With coffee cups in hand, we walked into the yard and sat on a bench amongst the life-like statues. I almost forgot why I came over. Then, I decided I had a hundred reasons, all of which would ruin this moment if I brought them up. But, there was one question I needed answered. I carefully thought about how to word the delicate question.

  “I wish you could see your eyes the way I see them,” he said.

  In a second flat, my face was on fire.

  He stared at me. “It seems I’ve tried for millennia to forget what they look like, but it has been a battle I have given up on.” His voice had dropped to barely a whisper.

  My mug fell from my hand, coffee splashing everywhere. Blacwin was quick to grab the mug from the ground. “I’ll get you a fresh cup,” he muttered as he turned his back on me and walked into the house.

  I didn’t want anymore, but I didn’t have time to protest. Before he came back I had to get my thoughts in order. Before I let myself utter a single word or try to say anything that would sound remotely intelligent, I took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He was back with a fresh cup of coffee. The features on his face were strained as he handed me the mug. As if he was trying to contain his emotions, he gathered himself and walked a few feet away from me. He rested his elbow on one of the statue’s shoulders.

  I wanted to go to him and ask him to explain what he had said. As I stood, he turned. When I saw the expression on his face, I sat back down. He stared at me. His face shifted through expressions as if trying to find one to settle on: pain, bewilderment, enchantment, fear, anguish, desire, nostalgia, guilt, skepticism, relief. I understood none of them. I glanced down at his chest to the stone, but his shirt hid it. I traced every vein in the stone with my imagination. I glanced up to his face. He was still contemplating something raw and true.

  He had lost me with his words, and I had lost control of the situation, not that I ever had it. I had intentions when I arrived. Now, I had only more confusion. “I don’t understand what you’re telling me.”

  Without looking at me, he said, “Once, there was a fallen angel who fell in love.”

  It was as if the air was like glass between us, and his spoken words shattered every molecule of breath into a million pieces.

  He turned away from me, and his shoulders slumped. “It’s no use. You’ll think I’ve lost my sanity.”

  When I found my breath and my courage, I stood and went to him. I placed my hand on his back. “I know a story like that, but what does that have to do with us?”

  Blacwin slowly turned toward me. My hand stayed on his body and now rested on his chest; the pendant bulged underneath the tips of my fingers. Our bodies were very close. He tilted his head as he looked at me. His eyes were distant and sad. “Everything.”

  “Tell me why.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I will soon. I promise.”

  25

  Deep breaths got me through the next few miles. It took everything I had not to make a U-turn and make him tell me now. Shit! What the hell was I getting into? No! Scratch that. What was I already caught up in? This web of secrets, murders, nightmares, statues, falling angels, mysterious hot guys who all of a sudden have this unusual interest in little ole me, and who... think they used to know me. I had lost my freaking mind. I didn’t have to wait to be committed to the loony bin. I should bypass the next right turn into the school parking lot and drive straight down State Road 41 and check myself in at the psych
ward just on the other side of town. But, the thought of electric shock therapy and straightjackets propelled me to turn in the parking lot of Gradywoods High.

  “Another day of progress,” Mr. Yves said when I walked into the bookshop.

  I looked around the store; he was right. Though still not categorized, the books were finding their way onto the shelves, some stacked, others stood upright. They were still not categorized, that would have gone against everything Mr. Yves ever believed in, and I would have had serious issues with that.

  “You realize that we almost have paths now—actual walkways from one side of the store to the other,” I said when I hugged him. I felt almost giddy as I looked around.

  The door jingled and I turned to see Chandler. I was walking right toward him and asking him what he was doing here. I stormed in his direction. “What are you doing here?”

  He put his arms up in defense. “Iris, calm down. I just came in to see how you were doing.” He lowered his arms. “Damn, give a guy a break, would you?”

  He seemed sincere, so I backed off a little. “I’m sorry. When I woke up, you were gone,” I hissed, though I knew I had no right to be mad. But dammit, I was furious. I was blaming him for my stupidity of going to see Blacwin. If Chandler had been there when I woke, I never would have gone.

  “You know I’ll never win with you—right? You get mad when I show up to check on you, you get mad if I stay, mad when I leave. Hell, you even get mad when I save you.” He let out a breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “Listen, can you please forget about all that for one minute and tell me how you’re doing?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest and cocked my hip. “I’m fine.”

  “You know I don’t believe that for a second. And Snow, she’s concerned. So would you stop trying to put up a front and just let your guard down? I promise I’m not going to hurt you, or Snow, or anyone for that matter. Besides, you and I have a lot more in common than you think.”

  I wonder what that had to do with anything. Once again, he had managed to simultaneously baffle and intrigue me. It was frustrating as hell.

  “Do you want me to come over tonight?”

  “No, I’m all right.” He looked like he didn’t believe me, so I trudged on. “I’ve just got a lot going on right now that I need to work through.”

  “I know.”

  He told me to call if I changed my mind. Which of course, I wouldn’t.

  The door jingled again. Chandler and I both looked toward the front of the store. Holy Hell. This was not going to be good. Blacwin was standing just inside the door. He looked like crap. My heart ached.

  Chandler was in his face in a nano-second.

  Blacwin didn’t move. “Back off,” he growled.

  There were no customers in the store. Mr. Yves called my name. I didn’t like his expression when I turned around to look at him. I pleaded for him to give them a minute, or at least ten more seconds to work it out. Taking a chance that I could ease their confrontation, I walked toward the front of the store where they both stood in a standoff. Their faces were only inches apart.

  Blacwin’s fists were balls of frustration. “I need to talk to her.”

  Chandler didn’t move. He was as tall as Blacwin, not as nearly built, but he stood his ground, and his protective mode made him look bigger. “If you hurt her again, I’ll kill you.”

  Blacwin stayed silent. He was not giving in to Chandler’s warning.

  “Ahem.” Neither of them looked in my direction. “Do either of you want to tell me how you know each other and what’s going on?”

  “Not really.” Chandler’s low unhurried tone was full of hatred.

  Blacwin squared his shoulders and looked over Chandler’s shoulder at me. My chest heaved when our eyes met. “Chandler, let him by.”

  Still not looking at me, he said, “Iris, you have no idea what he’s capable of.”

  He was right, I didn’t. And, at that moment I didn’t care. I walked behind Chandler and put my hand on his shoulder. “You’re right, I don’t.” I could feel my control over my emotions breaking down. “I don’t know anything right now, and I haven’t for the last few weeks. The only thing I do know is someone killed my dad.” That got their attention. There was burning rage in Chandler’s eyes. Blacwin’s eyes portrayed something else entirely, confirmation that I was right. The air in the room dissipated, and suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. He had killed my father. Then, the bastard had kissed me. But, the worst part was I had wanted him to do it again.

  My confession also got Mr. Yves’ attention. I heard his footsteps on the hardwood floor behind me. “I think it’s time for you both to leave.”

  I couldn’t agree more.

  They looked long and hard at me as if each were trying to convey something to me with their eyes. I only saw regret in one and torment in the other’s.

  “Gentleman?” Mr. Yves, always the polite one, insisted again.

  I turned and walked toward my desk in the back of the store, and heard the jingle behind me.

  “Iris, do you want to explain to me what’s going on?”

  I did and I didn’t. Mr. Yves deserved to know what I’d learned, so I told him. He was quiet as I told him everything; including the nightmares, and how I really knew of Lord Darenfys. First, he hugged me so tightly and told me he was sorry about my dad. I’m sure for him, like it had been for me, it was like my dad dying all over again. Then, he slowly moved toward the center of the store and sat in the club chair. “Iris, how come you didn’t tell me any of this when you found out? You should not have to deal with this alone.”

  I was alone, though. All alone. “It’s not that I didn’t want to, I just don’t know how to wrap my head around any of it. None of it makes sense, but yet, all of it seems to be connected in some whacked out way that I haven’t figured out yet.” I sat on the edge of the table next to him. “It’s like I’m being tested or something, and I’m failing big time.”

  “I am going to guess you didn’t call the police.” I didn’t have to acknowledge that. He knew I hadn’t. “Is there a reason that we shouldn’t?”

  I took his hand in mine. “You have always loved and taken care of me like I was your own...” I paused. He nodded and pursed his lips. “When I say my next words, promise me you’ll still love me like that, you won’t call the police, and lastly, you won’t have me committed.”

  “I could never stop loving you, nor could I ever betray you.” His hand tightened on mine.

  He had told me what I needed to hear. “I think whatever is going on is... otherworldly.”

  “If I didn’t know you the way I do, I’d say you were spending too much time in your fiction worlds. But, considering everything you’ve told me and the incidents that have happened in Gradywoods, I’d have to agree.”

  26

  Except for my crying, the apartment was quiet. My brain wouldn’t shut up. I needed someone familiar. I needed Snow. I just didn’t want her to ask me a ton of questions. Especially, since I didn’t know the answers to most of them. I was willing to take the chance. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, babe.”

  “Hey, you.” I missed her voice, her banter, her irrational behavior, and it all slammed into me how much I had.

  “Iris, I miss you so much. I want my best friend back dammit!”

  “I miss you, too. If you aren’t up to anything, do you want to come over?”

  “Shit! I made plans with Melody. She’s been depressed since jerk-face Jack broke up with her. I’ll cancel with her.”

  “No. Don’t do that.” I couldn’t have Snow be at my disposal, it wasn’t fair to her.

  “We’re going to Hence, why don’t you meet us there?”

  I jostled the idea around. Good points: 1. Get out of apartment. 2. Get to see Snow 3. Great coffee. Bad points: 1. The possibility of seeing Chandler. 2. The possibility of running into Chandler. 3. The possibility of having to hear more BS from Chandler. On that note, another
good point was 4. Running into Chandler and possibly getting answers.

  “What time are you guys going?”

  “Around eight.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you there.”

  Hence was crowded, but I spotted Snow at the bar talking to a few friends from school. I started toward her until I caught a shift of movement, movement that was un-human-like. Shifting my gaze, I saw Chandler walk into the hall where the bathrooms were. I debated whether to ignore the fact that he was here and go see Snow, or follow him down the hall. There were too many unanswered questions, and I was getting desperate to find out what I could. There was one thing I knew, Chandler would have the answer. I darted through the crowd and toward the bathrooms.

  I pushed aside the velvet curtain and went down the dark hall. Someone grabbed my arm. A hand clamped down over my mouth, trapping the shriek in my throat.

  “What are you doing?”

  I pulled the hand from my mouth. “Following you.”

  Chandler released my arm and turned me to face him. He leaned back against the wall. “Iris, this is not the place.”

  I swallowed a scream crafted from pure frustration. “I hate you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes! I do.”

  “Things are getting worse, aren’t they?”

  That was all it took, for him to admit that he knew what was happening to me; I started crying. He wrapped his arms around me. I wanted to fight myself free, but I didn’t.

  “Why don’t I come by tonight, and I promise—”

  “You promise what?” Snow interrupted him.

  We both whipped around. Fuck! We were so busted.

  “Snow!” I called after her, but she was already out of the hall and racing through the crowd toward the exit. I started after her, but Chandler caught my arm.

  “Let her go. She’s not going to listen to anything you have to say right now.”

  I whirled on him. “You have to fix this!”

  I went home alone, feeling pure hatred for Chandler, and myself for not being truthful with my best friend. I hated lying. Seriously, if you can’t trust your best friend, then who can you trust? I went to bed feeling sick to my stomach, and with my brain racing, trying to find ways to make my friendship with Snow right again. I was relying too much on Chandler to straighten out this mess.