I shivered again. His warm breath washed over my neck, making butterflies dance in my stomach. His lips touched my skin, setting it on fire. I could faint.
I went to lay my head against his shoulder but he pulled back, although keeping his hold on me.
“Unfortunately,” he said, “I have to go.”
“What?” I yelped. Victor leaving me had never happened before. He always stayed with me until someone yanked me out of my vision. “Where are you going?” I heard the frustration in my voice.
He smiled. “Don’t worry, Nadine. We’ll see each other again.”
“But where do you have to go? Can’t I come with you?”
“I don’t know.” He retreated a step and extended his hand. “Want to come?”
I took his hand. “Of course.” I walked to his side, ready to go, but he remained in place, still staring at me, a pleased smile over his full lips. “What?” I asked. I liked when he stared at me like that, but I never could stop from blushing.
His fingers traced the skin over my nose. “I like these,” he said, probably referring to my faint freckles. “They are one of your many charms.” The heat on my cheeks increased. “I like when you blush too.” He chuckled and drew me closer. “I like everything about you.”
Oh, I was taken.
He ran his hand through my hair, and then leaned toward me. Oh God. We had flirted and acted like boyfriend and girlfriend for over nine months, but he had never kissed me. Now he kept coming closer. I found myself standing on my toes, waiting for his lips to meet mine.
A blaring caw diverted my attention upward. The raven. In my vision?
“I don’t understand,” I said as I stared at the winged creature. The thrill of almost kissing him faded away.
“Yours?”
“No. But I saw a raven this morning, when I was going to class.”
“Is it the same one?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come.” He took my hand again. “Forget about the bird. Let’s go.”
It was almost impossible to pretend the raven wasn’t soaring near us, but I tried. I took his hand and let Victor led the way.
“Do you know where you’re going?”
His brow creased for a moment. “Not exactly. I know the direction I have to go. I can feel it in here.” He touched his chest.
“Do you think this feeling has something to do with your purpose?”
“I hope it does.” He offered me an encouraging smile.
Side by side, we walked toward NYU’s north gate. In my visions, even the world outside the protective campus walls was clean, warm, and perfect. There were trees and flowerbeds, all alive and well. The people who strolled through the streets seemed happy and friendly. Pleased, I squeezed his hand.
“Where to?” I asked after we crossed the north gate.
“I feel as if I should go that way.” He pointed northeast.
We were crossing the street when Raisa’s voice cut through my vision. “Nadine.”
I looked around and found myself back in the now empty classroom, empty except for me and Raisa.
“Nadine, wake up!”
Damn it! Victor was showing me where he wanted to go, whatever that meant.
Wait. I took a deep breath. Why was the feeling Victor experienced—the one telling him where to go—now inside me?
Raisa shook me, making me focus on her. “Hi,” I said lamely.
“You were out.” She paced franticly from side to side. “Again!”
“Sorry.” It was the only thing I could say. I didn’t want to talk to her about this. I needed to be alone to follow this irresistible pull, to follow it in order to find what Victor was after. But first I had to reassure Raisa all was well. “I guess class is over.”
She plopped her hands on her waist and shook her head. “For over five minutes now. You know, I promised you I wouldn’t worry about these episodes, but I’m not sure anymore.”
“Did the others notice?” I asked, worried I would soon hear rumors I was insane.
Then again, wasn’t I?
“I don’t know. Some might have.” She threw her backpack over her shoulder.
I stood. “I’m sorry.”
“Whatever,” she mumbled as she accompanied me to the exit door. “I’m going to sociology now. See you at lunch?”
“Yeah.” I watched her walk down the corridor until she left the building, headed to her next class.
Instead of going to my chemistry class, I marched toward the exit that would lead me to the north gate. The feeling inside my chest, the odd sensation, threatened to explode if I didn’t follow its directions.
Outside, I stopped and looked skyward. Where was that damn raven? I waited a few moments for the bird to show up. Nothing. Had I imagined it before? Had it been an innocent bird just passing by? Had the raven appearing in my vision been left over from seeing one before?
I shrugged and started walking again. The chilly air of the dark exterior made me shiver. Thirty years ago, New York would have been sweltering this time of the year. Now I had to tighten my jacket and cross my arms over my tote bag to stop the persistent shivering.
It hadn’t been my intention, but I halted at the north gate.
The streets of the city never ceased to make my insides turn: few streetlamps, some broken, caused the streets to be dark on a scary level; litter all around left a tainted scent; homeless people peered out of every corner; shady figures with suspicious and malicious eyes ambled by. Shattered sidewalks, barricaded windows, and steel gates on every door completed the urban decay look.
I swallowed hard and summoned what was left of my courage. I needed to follow this pull I felt inside, this sensation that would lead me to where Victor wanted to go. I needed to know if there was something for me there too, if I was going to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. But what would be my pot of gold? The answers to why I had the visions? Or maybe the answer to how to stay in them with Victor forever?
I took a step forward and bumped into something, like a hollow wall that somehow neutralized my feelings. Someone blocked my way. I looked up.
“Hi again,” Micah said, wearing a sly grin. I had forgotten about him—about how dangerously handsome he was. At my silence, he asked, “Won’t you greet me?”
“Hi,” I blurted, somewhat irritated. I didn’t like the way I reacted around him, the way my heart lurched, or my palms dampened.
“How is your back?” He buried his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket.
I shrugged. “Better. I’ve been on painkillers.”
“So …” He glanced at my tote full of heavy books, then over my shoulder to the campus. “Skipping class?”
“Maybe. And?” I didn’t like the way my subconscious responded to him, making me annoyed and on the defensive.
“Nothing.” His smile widened. “Actually, I’m glad you did, otherwise I would have had to wait until you were done with chemistry and math. And, I would have had to time it right to catch you before the start of your shift at the university coffee shop.”
My eyes bugged, then narrowed. “How do you know my schedule?”
He advanced one step, towering over me. “I go after things that interest me.”
I shivered. “Wh-what do you want?”
He frowned. “To be honest, I don’t know.” His voice resonated, deep and somber. His gaze found mine, but I could see he was hiding something.
Oh heck, he’d piqued my curiosity. “What do you do, Micah?”
“You mean, for a living?” He was back to his shrewd and charming self. I nodded and he leaned against the campus wall. “Well, nothing.”
I laughed, figuring he was joking. He didn’t laugh with me. “You’re serious. How do you—oh, I don’t know—pay your bills? Or do you still live with your parents?”
His eyes darkened. “My parents died when I was eighteen,” he said, his strong, foreign accent clearer.
I put my hands over my mouth. �
��I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay. That was five years ago. I use my inheritance to pay my bills. And, at the moment, I’m living in a hotel room.”
One of the things I most hated about myself was my intense curiosity. Right now, it itched under my skin. “Where are you from?”
“Israel.”
That explained his heavy accent. “And what brought you to New York?”
He chuckled. “Aren’t we a bit curious?”
I whirled my hair with my finger. “Sorry. It gets the best of me sometimes.”
He didn’t answer but instead kept staring at me. Self-conscious, I leaned on the wall beside him and pretended to watch the dreadfulness of the city. We stood like that for a few moments, quietly observing the movement before us.
“It’s like this everywhere, you know,” he said, sounding sorrowful. “I’ve traveled quite a bit since …” He swallowed, affected by his parents’ deaths, I guessed. I felt the urge to touch him, to comfort him. “You know, there are some places that are better, others much worse, but they all have a sameness. Dark, cold, dangerous.”
“My grandma’s theory is that God gave up on us. He was so sad with our acts and with our direction, He decided to leave us.”
“Not a bad theory.” Micah glanced at his feet. “I don’t know what to think, though.”
I could almost hear the wheels inside his mind whirring, but I held my tongue. Showing how curious I could be would do no good. But why was I worried about what Micah thought of me?
The clock on my cell phone beeped. Chemistry was gone, and my math class would start in ten minutes.
“I gotta go,” I announced, pushing off the wall and turning toward the campus gate.
“Wait,” he called out. My pulse quickened, and I turned to him. “Can I have your hand?” he asked.
“Excuse me?”
He laughed—a delicious sound. “No, not like that.” He ambled up to me, his sly grin adorning his flawless face. “I want to hold your hand.” He extended his hand, and I scowled at it. “Just for one second. Please.”
His cryptic black eyes pleaded in a way I couldn’t resist. I gave my hand to him and, as our skin met, the same cold shock from the other night stung me. My gaze flew to Micah’s face. He stood still with his eyes closed and both hands over mine, then he took a deep, soothing breath. I battled the urge to yelp and pull back when I saw his intensity.
Five seconds later, he released my hand, and maybe it was only me, but his stance seemed more relaxed.
“Care to explain?” I asked, afraid he was planning to suck my soul out through my hands.
He shrugged. “I don’t think there is an explanation.” He smiled, then bowed and walked away.
I remained there for a few more minutes, gaping at his receding figure.
“Lady?” I glanced over my shoulder and saw the gate guard looking at me. “Three minutes until the next period. If you have a class, better hurry.”
“Shit,” I cursed under my breath. “Thanks,” I yelled as I ran past him, headed toward my math class.
Ten feet from the classroom door, I skidded to a stop. Wait. Hadn’t I gone outside and skipped class to follow the path Victor told me about? But then Micah showed up and swept me off my feet, causing me to forget about my intention—again!
I pivoted. I’d follow my original idea—skip class and follow the pull that invaded me when I’d woken from the vision. I had to find out where Victor wanted to go, but I found the interior pull was gone. The sensation that would have led the way had disappeared.
My breath came in short, quick gasps. Dizzy, I lowered my head and clung to my knees.
No, no, this had not happened. Once more, a vision tried to tell me something, to show me something, and I had been prevented from going after it.
How the heck would I find out what it was now?
7
“Nadine.”
I turned and found Cheryl crossing the street to where I stood on the sidewalk outside the university café.
“Nad, how are you?”
“Good, I think,” I mumbled, unsure of what to say. I glanced at my watch. I had six minutes before my shift started.
“You know, I was thinking about what happened at the bookstore the other day. You never explained to me what that was,” she said, then hesitated, probably expecting I would snap at her and refuse to elaborate. Cheryl had seen me zone out a few times, and I always pretended nothing happened. “Should I be worried?”
“It’s nothing.” I forced a smile. “You don’t need to worry about these episodes. Probably low blood sugar.”
“Come on.” Cheryl placed a hand on my back and pushed me into the café. Inside, she sat at her usual spot. “Tell me the truth, how are you?”
“I’m fine.” I stepped toward the door that led to the back.
“Nadine,” Cheryl called after me.
I guess after years as a therapist, Cheryl had learned a few tricks about how to know when someone was lying.
I took a deep breath before turning back to glance at her.
“About your episode, I may know someone who can help. I have his card right here.” She opened her purse and rummaged through the contents.
I shook my head. “It’s nothing, Cheryl. Don’t worry. I don’t need any help.”
She extended the card. “Just take it, in case you change your mind.”
I pushed it away and gave her my back, ashamed for not being able to break through whatever held me back and trust my friend.
My gaze ended up outside the café where a large black raven perched on a tree branch. It had a scar over one eye. With goose bumps running up my spine, I ran to the back of the café.
For the fourth consecutive day, I visited NYU’s north gate before the start of my classes, hoping the feeling would come back. Nothing. I dared to cross the street the last two times, but that had not helped either. Perhaps the weird tug inside me hadn’t meant anything.
I was about to head back inside the campus when a taxi passed me with a number painted on its side: 816. The light radiating from the number eight was strong and pure.
I approached the guard at the gate. “Do you see anything unusual about that cab? About its number?” I asked, pointing toward the passing taxi.
Jim, the same guard who saw me speak with Micah the other day, shook his head. “No, ma’am. What should I see?”
“Nothing,” I answered quickly. “I think my eyes are tired.”
Should I give in and admit I was hallucinating? I could always open up to Cheryl and accept the card she offered the other day.
Focused on my dilemma, I walked on not paying attention to anything. The sudden sound of cawing startled me. I fought against the urge to look up. I didn’t want to see the raven. I didn’t want to think it was following me. I told myself it was a harmless black bird, lost and hungry.
I didn’t realize I had been running until I entered the building and rested against a wall, wheezing and shaking.
“Did you see a ghost?” Micah’s voice startled me.
“What are you doing here?” The hallway was crowded and many students stared at me. I tried to compose myself as girls gawked at Micah and glared at me.
He leaned on the wall, hands inside his leather jacket. His face was a mask with a sly grin, but his black eyes seemed pained.
“Just came to say hi.”
“Hi,” I snapped. “Now bye.” I walked past him, not wanting to give him a chance to ruin my day. The other two times I had talked to him, he made me forget about everything else. About Victor. I couldn’t allow his charm to overtake me over so easily.
“Hey.” Micah grabbed my arm and pulled me back until I was right before him. “Why the rush?” he asked, his delicious vanilla and sandalwood scent washing over me.
The endless black pools of his pupils met me.
“I have class,” I breathed, feeling dizzy.
“I’ll let you go.” He released my arm, but then extended hi
s hand. “But could you hold my hand first?”
I stared at his palm turned toward me. “Why?” I looked up, and the pain I thought I saw in his eyes grew clear.
“Please,” he muttered through gritted teeth.
“All right.” I didn’t know what holding his hand would do, but I wouldn’t be a brat if he was in pain.
As I was about to slip my palm in his, getting ready to feel the shock that came with it, Raisa showed up beside me.
“Nad, you didn’t introduce me to your friend,” she said, flipping her hair and smiling like a model. With anguished eyes, he glanced at me and let his hand fall to his side. “So?” She bumped her shoulder against mine.
“Raisa, Micah.” I beckoned from her to him. “Micah, this is Raisa, my roommate.” Our moment already forgotten, he turned toward Raisa with a wide and perfect smile.
Raisa let out a dreamy sigh.
“Nice to meet you, Raisa.”
“Nice to meet you too.” She giggled. “How come I’ve never seen you before?”
“I’m new in town.” It seemed he had pressed a button that was labeled “pain off, charm on.”
I intruded before Raisa let her boldness take over and invited him out. For some reason, I was afraid of hearing Micah’s answer to her request. “We should be going or we’ll be late.” I pushed her, trying to pry her from the gorgeous Israeli model standing before us.
“Bye, Micah,” Raisa said in a singsong tone. I kept pushing her down the hall.
“Bye, girls.” I didn’t bother turning around to look at him.
“What a hunk,” she exclaimed once we were inside the classroom. “How come you never told me about him?”
I rolled my eyes as I took my usual seat in the back. “I just met him.”
“Yeah, and? Come on! No girl would meet a guy like him and not report to her best friend.”
That was the thing Raisa didn’t understand. She was a good friend, but I wasn’t sure I had any best friends. I didn’t feel comfortable talking about my classes, my grades, or my family. I didn’t like to gossip and get together to talk about hot guys—and I certainly wasn’t going to confess my visions. I just wanted to be alone with my visions of Victor. Besides, if she knew how crazy I was, she wouldn’t want me to be her best friend.
The Everlast Series Boxed Set Page 6