“If you don’t, I’ll kill your sisters,” she said. “Or do you so easily forget their humanity grows when you are separated? You’re not just putting your life on the line. You’ll sacrifice your sisters as well by denying my request.”
“Only when I can’t hear their screams will they be far enough away to die a human’s death,” I said. “It’ll take days to accomplish.”
She laughed. “Oh, but you haven’t met my latest consort, Chronicler. Show her your talent.”
The massive man disappeared from behind her. A moment later, the girls’ screams were silent. Frantically, I searched out my peep hole to look for them when his face instantly appeared. His blackened eyes sent chills down my spine. His head jerked slightly as his smirk grew.
“Reaper,” I stated. “We’ve met.”
“Your Healer will never get here in time. I’ll kill them before he can get here to save you all. If you don’t give the Master what she wants, I’ll see to it that your Scavengers will die with you.”
“She only pays attention to you because you have something she wants right now, Reaper.”
“Lies,” he said and spat in my face. The putrid acid burned my face. I wanted to cry out but refused to give them the satisfaction. “Do it now, or you’ll bathe in their blood.”
“Remember what happened last time you played with fate?” I called out to the fallen angel. “My sisters and I foresee humanity’s fate as well as deities’. The string of our life is tied to theirs, thus, when they started to age, so will the Fates. When my sisters and I parted ways, our bodies aged. Together we became immortal again and stopped aging. But it had a nasty little side-effect to the rest of the deities, didn’t it? It made immortals killable, even if you didn’t start to age like my sisters and I.”
“Your point?” she asked, trying to sound bored.
“My point is, when the hunters found out they could live longer, and grow young, if they killed a deity, it made you not only killable, but your wish gave our half-breed offspring a reason to hunt us down,” I said.
“The past is the past. There’s nothing I can do to change it. Break the bond completely with the humans or break the bond with the Scavengers,” she demanded. “It’s up to you.”
“You seek humanity’s chaos, destruction, and fatality if that bond is broken. Without purpose they will become no better than animals.”
“Your choice, Chronicler,” she hissed. “Humans or Scavengers.”
I chose. A tear trickled down my cheek. She laughed; to weep was a sign of weakness while I saw it as a beautiful truth… no matter how agonizing. A moment later, my soul unraveled. While I beat against the burnt wood, the essence composing my very being separated itself. The coffin’s top popped off. I rolled out of the wooden box and onto the ground. I scratched at the soil, needing to apologize for not being strong. A white, transparent hand, scratched at the earth below me, as if it was furiously trying to come to my aid. I gripped his hand, wishing for the strength to hold onto her soul. She embodied the other part of my soul. She gripped my soft hands in her hard, calloused ones. There wasn’t enough time – I felt myself tearing in half. The two parts of my soul, the creation of life and death, which were never meant to divide, did. Images of hundreds of mouthless corpses were torn from my heart; they no longer answered to me in a matter of seconds. My Scavengers, howled out with hopelessness.
Not a squeal left my mouth as the dirt engulfed her, locking it away from me. My torn soul silenced me. Tears bled from my eyes as I gave the Master my Scavengers – the world’s unspeakable past, or death as humans perceived it. Analee’s muffled laugh ripped through my damaged soul when I felt them bow to her.
Tears formed in my eyes when the vision flickered away. Swallowing hard, I willed myself to forget the misery that frayed my soul. My body trembled. My eyes stung like I’d spent years mourning this loss even though I’d not yet lived this moment. I wanted to cry until I realized I was in the library – standing in front of a stranger.
I suppressed my tears and promised to give myself time to grieve in private. Forcing myself back into the conversation with Jace’s friend, I took a deep breath. That’s when I recalled his scent – it was from the vision. I studied his general shape and size. Considering his unforgettable scent and nervous twitch, he had to be the man in my vision – a mammoth of a man, dark green eyes, and deep red hair.
“What did you say your name was?”
“Didn’t,” he answered, and leaned against the bookshelf he just slipped the book into. “Name’s Marco, sweetness, but you can call me whatever you want.”
Wiping the sweat glazing my forehead, I leaned against the bookshelf. Its rough surface felt entirely too similar to the scalded coffin I couldn’t forget and the hand of the corpse I never wanted to let go of. Standing upright, I bit into my tongue, forcing myself to think clearly.
“Do your green eyes always bleed black?” I asked.
He advanced soundlessly toward me. “I Muted myself for you, missy.”
The simple, impractical answer confirmed my suspicion that Marco was the man I’d just seen in my vision. His scent became more pronounced when he came closer. Marco’s voice calmed me in a similar manner that Jace’s had, but I didn’t understand a word. When I did not react, his shadow lightened. It was in perfect coloration to the pounding headache. It wasn’t nearly as excruciating as what Jace put me through last week but still wasn’t pleasant. He stopped a few feet from me. His light shadow became dark once more. My head stopped throbbing immediately.
“I just wanted to make sure Jace’s opinion of your tolerance threshold matched mine,” Marco muttered like it explained his change in appearance. “It’s not my place to build you up. Leave that up to the Healer. With my dumb luck, I’d give you a stroke or an equally fatal injury. You chalk that up to another human Analee can add to her collection of death.”
“What are you people?”
“You really don’t know, do you? Or you’re playing dumb, but it’s not my duty to test that theory either,” he said, having a conversation with himself.
I closed my eyes to test another theory. He didn’t have a smoky haze like Jace, but a silver outline wavered in his place. Instead of reflecting light, the silver seemed to absorb light. No wonder I had trouble seeing him from a distance with my eyes closed. Ironic that a giant like Marco would be nearly invisible.
“You don’t look like Jace.”
“You don’t look like the Chronicler I remember either, but here you are and here I am, both not looking like we should.”
“How many of you people are there?” I said, wondering if Jace and Marco were the ones spying on me from my yard.
“Enough.”
“Can you answer one question without me wanting to bang my head against the wall?”
“Probably not.”
That Jace was friends with someone like Marco, who could respond to a question without actually answering it, wasn’t difficult to believe. They had to be longtime friends to have developed the exasperating knack.
“Who’s Analee?” I hissed, startling myself at the vindictive manner in which I uttered her name.
“I knew you were playing with me! You do remember her.”
“Answer the question.”
“Oh, that’s right. We’re playing this game where you pretend not to know who and what I am. Are you trying to make me slip and order that the dirt crawlers drag me to Hades?”
“Remembering people I’ve never met is not one of my abilities,” I said, annoyed for merely playing this ridiculous game.
“So you admit you have them, abilities that is?” Marco asked.
“Who’s Analee,” I repeated, failing to control the anger in my voice.
“A person you don’t want on your bad side. The Chronicler thrived making her life miserable. Analee is running the search and rescue for the three sisters, which screams ironic. Oh, and my ex,” he added as an afterthought – like I’d care.
“Whoever you are, you’re completely nuts.”
“Not denying that, sugar, but you’ve got Jace convinced you’re the one we need. And if anyone truly understood you or what happened, it was him.”
Stepping around the shelf, I turned my back to him and walked away. If he was here to hurt me, this was his chance. No one was around; it was quiet as a crypt. He and Jace were engrossed with me for whatever reason but apparently not enough to kidnap me, not yet.
“You weren’t always a runaway,” Marco called out as the library door slammed shut. “You didn’t always walk away from those who needed you.”
The moment the fall breeze hit my face, I dug out my cell and turned it off. My suspicions were probably getting the best of me. Jace and his friend were gunning for me, for whatever reason, so I couldn’t be more careful. If my phone was bugged, I refused to turn it on.. If that mattered for tracers, I wasn’t sure.
Unfolding Stella, I walked aimlessly around the neighborhood. My visions had officially reached an unreliable state. That I could feel my soul rip apart was not possible, much less think I was a creator and a death bringer. Nothing made any sense. Whatever the future held, it scared the living daylights out of me. Needing to turn my mind off, I continued my course for KnockOuts.
“Hector had an emergency and couldn’t make it, Winnie,” Charlie said when I pushed through the glass doors.
“Explains why he wasn’t at the library.”
Changing in the deserted girls’ locker room, I felt more in sync with my life. This is what normal girls my age did in their free time. Work out, prolong homework, and meet up with friends after a Friday night football game. Normal teenagers didn’t worry about the uncontrollable future and potential kidnappers or stalkers.
I found my way to a full-sized punching bag without much thought. Out of sheer habit, my legs carried me where I needed to go. The worn leather grazed my fingertips when I slipped on my gloves. I grinned. I rolled my neck and loosened my arms and legs. Standing lightly on my toes, I reeled around my bag. Jabs, uppercuts, and hooks, I dissipated the tension in my shoulders. Sweat drizzled down my arms and legs. Punch after kick after jab, I drowned in a boxing haze while my brain did its own thing.
Reoccurring images of a crystal clear blue sea penetrated my consciousness. If I concentrated on the salty fragrance lingering in the wind, I could hold the vision longer and analyze it. I mutilated the punching bag, while losing myself in the sand shifting through my toes. A gentle, warm breeze blew my cream-colored dress while the sun did its best to incinerate me. Kicking into the punching bag, I could almost feel the sun tan my skin. Flying in the deep blue sky, birds sang melody after melody. Their songs reminded me of a language I didn’t quite recognize.
Then I did. I recognized the song! I slammed my fist into the leather. The melody that was entirely too similar to the language Jace and Marco spoke. Drumming the bag with my fists, my arms burned and shoulders ached. My future destined to intertwine with nut jobs.
Great.
After my arms were too tired to lift, I slammed my legs against the leather. I beat the leather until the scent of burnt wood and ash lingered with the stale, sweat smells of the gym. My unwanted company decided to join me.
“Jace,” I said, acknowledging his presence without turning around to face him.
“Winnie.”
Even though his voice put me in a type of jacked-up trance, my horrible nickname knocked sense into me. I spun around.
“Call me that again, I dare you,” I warned.
His silhouette radiated white, illuminating everything around him. His blaze grew like a fire, encouraging my tears to flow. Unable to take him all in, I closed my eyes. His hazy outline filled my vision. He threw his jacket along the wall after shrugging it off. His thin shirt – hopefully he wore a shirt – delineated his lean upper body. He had the kind of a stomach that made me want to give up on working out altogether and just start eating my way into a super-sized grave. Hanging onto the punching bag next to me, he grabbed a chain connecting the bag to the rafters. His jeans looked like they were sewn around his wash-board abs.
“Winnie,” he whispered.
I charged. He dodged faster than humanly possible and was behind me before my eyes could follow.
He chuckled, “All bark and no bite, dearest? I thought you were a fighter.”
Relying on my hearing, I focused on the sound of his shoes squeaking over the gym’s rubber floor. Estimating he was about five paces away, I spun around, charged him, and aimed low. My fist grazed his side before he moved around me again.
Laughing, he closed his fists around my gloves that were currently drilling into his stomach as fast as I could throw them.
“Done fighting me yet?” he asked.
I answered soundlessly by kneeing him in the groin. He grunted – or suppressed a laugh – I wasn’t exactly sure, since his voice distracted me. He dropped and then swung his legs out under me, knocking me on my back. The air fled from my lungs. By the time I was able to suck in a breath, Jace was lying a couple feet from me. I groaned. He’d propped himself up with his elbow and was seductively tracing the mat with his finger. I’d never imagined how an unattainable boy model would look before, but I’d gotten the inclination that Jace could pull it off effortlessly. Perhaps in another life he’d been an underwear model.
“You don’t want to start this again, Gwyneth,” he advised. The scent of scorched wood rolling off his skin guaranteed that I’d get burned but would love each second. “There may come a day when you can hold your own, but today isn’t it. Stop fighting me.”
My heart trembled erratically, yearning for him never to stop speaking. Again the need to lick his words off his lips as he spoke invaded my mind. “Why are you stalking me?”
“Stalking sounds so ominous,” Jace said. “I prefer to see it as me offering you protection… from a distance and often from an unknown location.”
“Care to tell me why you and Marco broke into my home? I found the window opened,” I said, passively informing him that I wasn’t a complete idiot and knew that people watched me.
He said nothing, analyzing my question like it had different meaning. Ever so slyly, he sniffed the air around me. I wanted to tell him that it was called sweat, and it might not be the most lovely body odor in the world, but tended to happen in a gym. Before I commented, a thread of made-up curse words echoed in my ears. He slammed his fist into the mat. I trembled as the floor shook for several moments afterward. An electrical charge prickled over my skin like an aftershock – like a warning of sorts.
“Your location’s no longer a secret,” Jace muttered. “Ashwick is no longer safe for you.”
“How many of you are there, and who is looking for me?”
“Enough and bad guys,” he replied stiffly. “What happened to your biological parents?”
“That’s none of your damn business.”
“We need to leave town,” he said more desperately.
“Fat chance I’m going anywhere with you! The Thompsons will have the police on your tail before you get out me of the gym. If you follow me home again, I’ll call them myself,” I jeered and pushed away to make a dramatic exit.
“I’m not done with you just yet,” Jace said, patting the mat.
The electrical trickle crawling over my skin intensified into a surge. The sensation of my bones gradually being split apart pulsated through my body with each surge he caused. I toppled back down.
“Stop doing that!”
“Then give me the time I deserve, calm down, and stop fighting me, so I can protect you!”
The ringing in my ears escalated, drowning out everything except his voice. Everything around me went utterly dark. Panicking that he’d actually stole my sight; I looked where I’d last seen him. His blazing abyss was there, making me nauseous. Flickers of shimmering colorless flares wiped across his white skin. I gave my well-practiced “back-off glare” since my voice box had decided to take five. My threaten
ing scream came out as a pathetic squeak. I felt (yes felt) him smirking at my pitiful defiance. Jace chuckled softly, confirming his sick sense of humor. Even when he laughed he still managed to sound imposing…or maybe his commanding characteristics seemed so much more threatening because he had basically tasered me without so much as lifting a few fingers.
“You’re making this complicated when it isn’t necessary, Gwyneth,” Jace insisted.
Just as quickly as he took away my sight, the usual gray shadows of objects once again filled my vision. The distant ringing plummeted, and once again I could hear everything like normal. Jace weakened himself – Muted himself, just like Marco had. He was no longer flickering, just shining bright – nauseatingly bright. It only took me a moment to realize why he returned my senses. Footsteps squished along the outer edge of the gym’s rubber floor and quickly became louder.
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