Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles)

by Melissa Aden

  “Unfortunately, Vinny is… indisposed… this evening,” Gino answered. “He and his mother suddenly came down with something this afternoon, but he saw to it that I personally attend to your every need.”

  “He sounded fine when I talked to him this afternoon.” Mia made no attempt to hide the skepticism in her voice.

  Gino smiled and straightened a bit. “Miss Veracruz, is it?” he asked politely, though the arrogant look in his eyes negated the formality.

  “Yes,” she answered with matching dignity.

  “I can assure you that I am most capable. I will do my utmost to give you the finest care. In fact, our best table awaits you and your party. May we proceed?”

  Mia glared at him indignantly. “Certainly.”

  Without another word, Gino spun on his heel, the group following close behind him. Everett started after them, but I quickly grabbed his sleeve.

  “See! Mia senses it too. Something is terribly wrong.”

  He sighed, seeming irritated. “Sophie, you’re being irrational.”

  I suddenly felt like I could cry. He had raved about how discerning I was and urged me to listen to my instincts, yet now that I was, he wasn’t listening. He didn’t believe me. “Please, Everett,” I pleaded, panicking.

  His face softened and he took me by the arms. “Okay. A compromise.”

  It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but I nodded for him to go on.

  “We go in, make an appearance, but if at any time you feel uncomfortable, we leave and I take you anywhere you like. Deal?”

  “But, Everett I—”

  “Mia has worked on this all afternoon. She’ll be crushed if we bail now. Just a little while. For me.”

  The fact that he was overlooking my feelings angered me, but I understood his reasoning and also didn’t want to hurt Mia’s feelings. She was passionate about planning outings such as this one and I understood it was a way for her to express her love for me.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  Everett nodded, escorting me through a swinging door that opened to a beautiful indoor courtyard. Winding our way through grasses and flowering plants, the feeling within me intensified with every step until I couldn’t go any further. Spotting a concrete bench nestled among some bushes, I planted myself there.

  “Sophie?” Everett asked, watching me with a strange expression.

  “I think I’m having a panic attack,” I said, struggling for breath. A cold sweat covered my face and arms.

  Everett quickly sat and rubbed my back. “Just breathe. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  “How can you be so sure?” I asked, growing more upset.

  He put his arms around me and we began to rock. “Shhhh… just breath.” I obeyed, focusing on totally deflating my lungs before filling them up again. Once I had calmed considerably, he leaned back, taking my hands in his. “What’s this really about? You’re starting to scare me.”

  “I don’t know. I wish I didn’t feel this way, but I do. The closer we get to the restaurant, the stronger the feeling gets that we’re not supposed to go in.”

  Everett eyed me for a moment before saying, “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Okay. If you feel that strongly about it, we’ll leave. Mia will understand.”

  “Mia.” I sighed, not sure what to do.

  “Everett? Sophie?” I heard Gino call.

  “Over here,” Everett answered.

  “Oh, there you are,” Gino said, spotting us. “Enjoying Vinny’s beautiful garden, I see. I can hardly blame you. It’s quite divine.” He smiled kindly, making me feel guilty for unexplainably disliking him so.

  “You mean Lucia’s garden?” Everett corrected.

  “Uh, yes. My mistake.” Gino laughed uncomfortably. “Miss Veracruz asked me to find and escort you to your party’s table. May I do so now?”

  “Will you please inform Mia that we won’t be—” Everett started.

  “Thank you, Gino. That would be lovely,” I said, shakily rising to my feet.

  Everett shot me a searching look and I smiled at him to show everything was okay. If Everett didn’t think my weird feeling was a big deal, then I trusted it wasn’t. And he was right about Mia. She would be crushed if we didn’t at least make an appearance.

  Everett took my hand. “I’m proud of you. Everything will be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “This place is gorgeous,” I breathed, moving a delicate bowl of flowers aside to hold Everett’s hand across the table.

  “I’m glad you like it.” He smiled, the glow of candlelight making him stunning in an otherworldly way. “The chandeliers are imported from Italy, and Vinny’s mother, Lucia, makes the candles and grows the flowers herself. Vinny says it’s all about the personal touches.”

  “Appetizers, compliments of the chef,” Gino said, appearing from thin air. “Bruschetta made fresh from produce in Lucia’s garden, stuffed mushrooms, fried calamari, and Vinny’s specialty, fresh rosemary bread served with his signature marinated garlic spread. Enjoy!”

  Servers clad all in white moved clusters of candles and bowls of flowers on the table aside, putting huge white plates full of food in their place. Soon, everyone was digging in.

  “These stuffed mushrooms are amazing!” I mumbled through a mouthful.

  Everett nodded with big eyes, his mouth also full.

  “May I refill your water glass, ma’am?”

  I jumped. Gino had again appeared, startling me. I cursed myself for panicking in the courtyard. If it weren’t for that, I probably wouldn’t be sitting at the end of the table, so close to where he continually apparated.

  “Yes, please,” I said and he refilled my glass.

  “I could use a refill too, please,” Everett said, but Gino ignored him, leaving as if he hadn’t heard. “That guy is seriously strange.”

  “Agreed,” I said, popping another mushroom in my mouth. “But this amazing food more than makes up for it.”

  The night went on splendidly — everyone talking, eating, and laughing — until I suddenly felt very warm. I sipped from my water glass. Refreshing and cold, I drank again until I finished the glass.

  “Thirsty?” Everett chuckled.

  “Yes. Is it warm in here?”

  “It’s all these candles,” he said, blowing out the ones nearest us.

  I fanned myself with my cloth napkin, then seeing the strangest thing. A little spark, like a shooting star, danced in loops across the room. It twirled and swooped, landing on my arm. Startled, I slapped it before cautiously removing my hand. I gasped. Nothing was there! Another light swooped towards me, this time landing on the table. I swatted it, hitting the table hard enough to make glass plates and goblets tinkle. Others at our table quieted, pausing to look at me.

  “Stupid gnat,” I shrugged, sitting on my hands.

  Thankfully, conversation quickly resumed, though my relief was short-lived as another light swooped past my vision. I watched, mesmerized, as it split into two and then four — all dancing, moving, and twirling about me.

  Am I hallucinating? Is this actually happening? “Everett?”

  “Hmmm?” he asked. Enthralled with the calamari on his plate, he didn’t look up.

  “What is being awakened like?” I whispered.

  “What?” His eyes shot up in alarm and his fork dropped to his plate with a clang.

  The little sparks of light continued multiplying, consuming the room, burning their swirling dance into my vision. “Either I’m hallucinating or I’m being awakened,” I explained, trying to remain calm. “So what is it like? Am I supposed to see dancing lights everywhere?”

  “Dancing what? No! No, you’re not.”

  Panic coursed through me. If I wasn’t being awakened, then what was happening to me? My eyes were trained on the frantically spawning lights, but I could sense Everett’s on me.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, not wanting to worry h
im. Unable to get my eyes to focus on his face, I settled for looking in his general direction. “It’s nothing a cold towel in the ladies room won’t remedy.”

  “Mia can accompany you.”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” I lied again, trying to sound convincing despite my tongue feeling numb and swollen.

  Everett got up to pull my chair out, but I stood before he could. My legs felt like limp noodles and I stumbled, catching myself on the table’s edge, again causing glass to clatter.

  “Whoa!” Everett laughed, his hands steadying me. “Those five-inch heels sure can be a doozy.” Others laughed with him as well. His grip tightened on my arm as he leaned into me. “Let’s get some fresh air outside.”

  “I’m fine,” I reassured him, gently pushing away to walk forward alone. “I’ll be just a moment.”

  I felt awful. I’d never been drunk before, but I knew it couldn’t be far from what I was feeling. The room spun, my vision blurred, and I felt numb all over. I concentrated on gracefully putting one foot in front of the other.

  Slowly making my way through the dining room, I watched the dancing lights. They moved around me, enveloping me but never touching my skin. I had successfully made it halfway across the room when something changed. I felt breathless and weak. Everything went a hazy white and my legs gave out. I felt myself falling, but couldn’t see to catch myself. I anticipated the pain of impact, but it never came.

  “It’s okay, Sophie. I’m here now,” Everett said in my ear, swooping me up. Then we were moving. I relaxed into his sure, strong arms, savoring the familiar scent of his cologne as he held me close. “You were right. I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you. I’m such an idiot.”

  The fear in his voice scared me, giving me freedom to fall apart. “I need air,” I sobbed. “I can’t breathe.”

  “I’m going to get you out of here, okay? Everything’s going to be okay, Sophie. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  I wanted to believe him, but I wasn’t so sure.

  Chapter 47

  Trapped

  Sophie haphazardly gulped water from her glass, much of it trickling down her chin and neck, soaking the pretty dress Mia had lent her. The candlelight flickered off the slight sheen on her forehead, the only glow about her otherwise pallid countenance.

  Her little breakdown in the garden had troubled me more than I’d like to admit, and now I was starting to think she had a point. I constantly underestimated her. Her instincts were impeccable when she listened to them. What if she was actually sensing real danger tonight and I’d negated everything I’d told her, overriding her intuition and insensitively berating her? My suspicion that I’d made a huge mistake grew as Sophie acted stranger by the minute.

  “Thirsty?” I asked, trying to sound amused.

  “Yes. Is it warm in here?” She forced a smile but I saw the worry in her eyes.

  “It’s all these candles,” I said, blowing some out.

  She feigned normalcy for a time before her eyes grew large as saucers, darting this way and that. She slapped her arm — hard! Carefully peeling her hand away, she gasped. She then looked up again and frowned before slapping the table, upsetting glasses and plates nearby.

  A hush fell over the table. Everyone watched Sophie with baffled looks on their faces. Was she trying to be funny? Or was she just weird? They thankfully didn’t know Sophie well enough to tell.

  Noticing she had an audience, Sophie blushed, the flush of her cheeks abnormally brilliant against her pale skin. “Stupid gnat,” she mustered.

  Everyone nodded and a few even sympathetically laughed as they went on with their dinner. I followed suit right as Sophie turned to me and whispered.

  “Everett?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “What is being awakened like?” she asked, barely audible.

  Caught off guard by her question, I loudly exclaimed, “What!” I dropped my fork. Failing to retrieve it in time, it loudly clattered against my plate.

  Sophie looked startled. “Either I’m hallucinating or I’m being awakened. So what is it like? Am I supposed to see dancing lights everywhere?”

  “Dancing what?” I blurted, a million questions racing through my head.

  Lights? She could be seeing floaters, little specks floating in the gel-like filling of the eye. But that’s quite common and doesn’t explain her pale color, hot flash, or sweating. Wait, that’s it. Hot flash! But could it be? Hormones are a funny thing, but her condition seems more severe than a normal hot flash, and it’s rare for a girl of her age to experience them. Perhaps it’s food poisoning. Or the early onset of a cold, flu, blood clot, heart attack, hyperactive thyroid, Hypoglycemia, or Multiple Sclerosis. Or it could be a panic attack. Whatever it is, she isn’t being awakened and it’s by no doing of Dio.

  All of this rushed through my mind in mere seconds before I answered, “No! No, you’re not!” I didn’t understand what was happening, only adding to my distress. “Are you okay?” It was all I could do not to whisk her out of the restaurant right then and there.

  “I’m fine,” she said, sounding sure despite her frantically wandering eyes. She squinted at me and blinked a few times before letting her eyes roam the room again. “It’s nothing a cold towel in the ladies room won’t remedy.”

  “Mia can accompany you.”

  “No, I’ll be fine.”

  I rose to help her up, but she quickly stood, clumsily lurching forward. Catching hold of the table cloth, she pulled on it to right herself. Glasses spilled and full plates of food crashed to the floor.

  The entire dining room paused in a collective gasp, everyone’s eyes on us now. I carefully steadied Sophie, but the damage was done.

  “Whoa! Those five-inch heels sure can be a doozy,” I said. Everyone erupted in laughter, except for Sophie, who looked dumbstruck and zombified. “Let’s get some fresh air outside,” I whispered. It wasn’t up for discussion. I was getting her out of here.

  “I’m fine,” she belligerently insisted, violently pushing me away. She swayed like a drunk. “I’ll be just a moment,” she loudly slurred.

  Dumbstruck, I watched her stumble across the dining room, no longer sure what to do. I’d never seen anything like this, and Sophie was increasingly getting worse. Then she stopped and put a hand to her chest, heaving forward and then back. I started towards her, reaching her just in time to catch her.

  “It’s okay, Sophie. I’m here now,” I said in her ear, already on the move. She went limp in my arms. “You were right. I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you. I’m such an idiot.”

  She burst into tears, sending me into a panic. “I need air! I can’t breathe!” she gasped.

  I kissed her moist forehead, heat searing my lips. My sweet girl! Oh, Dio! What have I done? I put my mouth to her ear, trying to sound calm. “I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

  She nodded, her pretty mouth hanging open limply, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, Sophie.” And once more for my own sake, “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Familiar with the kitchen from my many cooking lessons with Vinny, I headed for it, knowing it would be an inconspicuous exit. I quickly moved down a long hallway towards the swinging kitchen door.

  “I… I can’t… breathe,” Sophie stammered.

  “Just stay calm. Take deep breaths. What else is wrong? How are you feeling?”

  Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. This was bad. Very, very bad. I had to keep her conscious.

  “Sophie?” I shook her. “Stay with me, babe. Tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.”

  Her eyes came back to me, though they looked about blindly. “I feel… sick. I’m cold and hot. And my lungs hurt. My body feels so heavy. And it hurts to breathe, and… I can’t see.” This upset her and she began to cry again, making it harder for her to breath. “I can’t see, Everett. I can’t… see. What’s happening… to me?” Her breath came in short spurts.
r />   “Shhh… I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’m going to find out.”

  I approached the kitchen door, but something was off. It quickly dawned on me that the kitchen — usually an orchestra of blasting music, banging pans, whirring dishwashing machines and shouting — was totally silent. Cautiously peering through the door’s small window, I was surprised not to see anyone. Where were the servers, chefs, and kitchen staff? A cold sweat broke down my back as my fears were realized. Something was definitely going on.

  “Sophie?” I whispered.

  “Mmm… ” Her breathing had slowed and her eyes were now closed.

  “Don’t leave me,” I blurted, about to lose it. “Be really quiet while I sneak you out through the kitchen, okay?”

  “Kay, Ev-it.”

  I pushed my back to the swinging door, careful not to hit Sophie’s head or legs.

  “I said not to move,” a deep voice barked, echoing off the kitchen’s stark surfaces. I froze, my head whipping around.

  A tall, muscular man in black canvas pants, black boots, and a skin-tight black shirt had his back to me. He held a Tavor assault rifle. Servers and kitchen staff cowered in a corner, clearly terrified. The women — and even a few men — cried.

  What awful timing. The restaurant is being robbed!

  “Stop crying!” the man yelled at a woman in front of the huddle. She cried harder, trembling. “I’ll give you something to cry about,” the man screamed at her, stomping down on her extended leg with a heavy black boot. I shuddered from the sound of snapping bone.

  The woman wailed in pain, holding her leg.

  The large man with the gun bent down. Laughing, he grabbed the woman by her hair. Holding her suspended there, he screamed in her face, “I said to pipe down!”

  I watched the scene in horror until a man sitting on the floor caught my eye. He gestured to the back door with his head. I suddenly realized I’d been frozen in plain sight this whole time. Not smart on my part. The man on the floor gestured again, this time more obviously.

  “What’re you lookin’ at?” the large man yelled, dropping the woman to turn on the man.