“What is it?” Alexander asks as he slides into his seat and closes the door. He can tell my demeanor has changed.
I don’t answer right away. I peer out the window again and see that Avestan and the others have disappeared. Did I imagine it?
He mistakes my silence for frustration at our predicament. “If you only knew how much I want to kiss you, Declan.” Then he pauses and looks at me as he adds, “I know this isn’t ideal and if at any time you want out, I’ll understand. I shouldn’t even be asking this of you. It’s selfish, but I can’t help myself.”
The look in my eyes reveals that I’m as hopelessly connected to him as he is to me. “The way I feel when I’m around you, Alexander, I’ll never want out.” He reaches over and holds my hand.
When we get to my house, Alexander waits for me downstairs while I get ready. I race through my shower, blow dry my hair as best I can and then give up and throw it into a ponytail. I slide on my red Jack’s Burger Shack t-shirt and a pair of jeans and I’m back downstairs with nearly ten minutes to spare.
“That was fast,” says Alexander, duly impressed. “Now we can cover some ground rules.”
“Okay, let’s talk in the car because I don’t want to be late.” I grab a peanut butter Larabar and he nods in agreement as we walk to the car.
“First rule,” Alexander says as he’s driving, “don’t go anywhere alone.”
He looks at me and I nod. I suppose that’s reasonable. “Wait. What about when I go running?”
“I’ll go with you. Or if I can’t I’ll make sure someone else is watching.”
“Who?”
He shakes his head. “You’re not supposed to know we exist. Edwin doesn’t want me to reveal anyone to you, but just know that we’re around.”
“Okay … I guess.”
“Second rule: Share your schedule with me so I know where you are at all times. I can drive you wherever you need to go. And I’m sorry to ask this, but you’ll have to stop volunteering at the shelter for now.”
“Why?”
“There’s been some trouble. We’re taking care of it, but I don’t want you near it.”
I think about what he’s asking and then I shake my head. “I don’t mind sharing my schedule with you but I’m not going to stop working at the shelter. I usually go on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I talked with Sarah, the director, and she said there hasn’t been any trouble downtown.”
“You can’t be persuaded?”
“No, not on this point.”
“Okay, then we’ll figure something out.” I nod and he continues. “This last one probably goes without saying. Don’t go near Avestan or communicate with him in any way.”
I nod. “That’s an easy one.”
“I’d also like to request that you not share what I told you last night with anyone.”
I look at him, surprised. “Of course I won’t. I thought that went without saying. Frankly, even if I did try to tell someone they’d probably have me committed.”
He laughs but I’m only half joking.
We arrive at Jack’s and Alexander insists on walking me in. When he introduces himself to Jack as my boyfriend, Jack’s jaw nearly drops to the floor because he knows I’ve never been interested in anyone before. We make small talk for a few minutes and then Alexander hugs me and leaves.
As I walk to the front counter, Jack turns to me with a smile and a raised eyebrow. “We’ve got a lunch rush coming in any moment, darlin’, but when it’s over, I want to hear all the details about that new boyfriend of yours that just sauntered in here from the Land Down Under.”
I smile back as I punch in my number to sign on to the register.
Chapter Ten
The rest of winter break flies by. I follow the rules Alexander and I have agreed on and they seem to be working. I haven’t seen Avestan and his band of not-so-merry fellows again, and I’m starting to hope that maybe he’s given up and is on the hunt for ‘pure souls’ to annihilate in some other part of the world. I have to joke about it because otherwise I’d be curled up in a corner somewhere under a blanket. Alexander explained that it’s unlikely that Avestan will give up and look elsewhere because apparently I’m a “rare and valuable find.” Just my luck to have the kind of special qualities that attract homicidal dark angels.
I remember the picture I snapped of Avestan the night of the dance and the thought makes me shudder. I search my phone to delete it but when I find the photo, I’m shaken to discover that it’s turned completely black. For some reason that leaves me more unsettled than anything Alexander has told me so far.
As the days go by, I feel as though I’m living in a parallel universe: One where I not only have dark angels after me, but also one where I have a boyfriend for the first time in my life, and a completely new view of my anxiety. Alexander and I spend all our free time together and his calming energy keeps my panic attacks at bay. We’ve been quizzing one another about everything from cherished books to fondest memories. Alexander’s recollections extend through so many lifetimes, it’s fascinating. He’s playful, witty, and thoughtful, (all things I knew), but I discover even more of his intelligence and kindness. I feel more connected to him every day.
“Favorite food?” I ask as we walk among the shops one afternoon in downtown San Mar.
“Jaffle,” Alexander answers.
“Waffle?
“No. Jaffle. Grilled cheese. I love ‘em.”
“Jaffle … I like it. I’m going to start calling them jaffles. I make great grilled cheese, by the way. With tomatoes.”
He smiles. “I love them with tomatoes. Favorite song?” he asks.
“Hmm. I don’t really have one. It changes. But I love duets and I like songs with whistling.”
“Whistling?”
“Yes, but I hate it when people whistle in real life. Outside of songs. It’s weird.”
He laughs. “Your answers are always so … unexpected.”
“Odd, in other words,” I say.
“Yes, but in a good way. I like being surprised.”
A woman approaches with two kids in tow and asks me a question in a language I don’t recognize. I try my best to understand as she gestures wildly, but I’m at a loss. Alexander jumps in, speaking in her native tongue, and she beams with relief. “Yes, yes,” she says in English, nodding, “Thank you. Thank you.” She smiles at both of us and heads in the direction Alexander pointed.
I look at Alexander, amazed.
He shrugs. “She wanted to know where she could get a jaffle.”
“You’re making that up.”
“Okay,” he laughs, “I’m making that part up. But she did want a restaurant that was vegetarian.”
“What language were you speaking?”
“Farsi.”
“How many languages can you speak?”
“All of them.”
I absorb this new information. “Now you’re the one who’s unexpected … and very handy to have around.”
He smiles and puts his arm around me as we walk into the San Mar Surf Shop. I slip my arm around him in return and rest my hand comfortably in the back pocket of his jeans. God, I love this. Where have you been all my life, Alexander? We head toward the sale racks. He wants to go surfing together and I need a new wetsuit.
After the break, there are a lot of surprised looks the first time we walk down the hallway at school holding hands. I’m sure people are wondering what the heck Aussie supermodel Alexander Ronin is doing with little Declan Jane but I don’t care. I don’t feel broken anymore. I’m not a freak. For the first time in my life I feel just as worthy of an Aussie god’s affections as the next girl. And, just as importantly, I know he’s worthy of mine.
Liz is thrilled for me. During many conversations involving our guys I’ve shared as many details as I can to satiate her curiosity, but I haven’t revealed anything about the angel business, of course. Liz and Finn like Alexander a lot and he returns the favor. Things are going so well I can’t hel
p but wonder when the other shoe might drop, but then I chastise myself for such negative thoughts. Alexander is a force for good—we all are—so why can’t it just stay this way? Didn’t he say good always wins out?
“Okay,” Alexander says, “let’s start with Miss Dunhill over there.”
We’re sitting in the quad at lunch and it’s just the two of us. Liz and Finn left for a space sciences lecture Edwin is giving at UCSM. Alexander asks if I want to try some aura guessing so he can teach me to trust my feelings about people. Miss Dunhill is sitting with some other teachers at the picnic table outside the teacher’s lounge.
“Alright, hopefully this will be an easy one. I like Miss Dunhill.” I concentrate on the energy I feel from her for a few minutes and try to attach a color to it. “I picture her aura as sunny yellow. Very cheery. But I also feel some light pink tinged with melancholy. Is that weird?”
“You’re right on all counts. And no, the melancholy isn’t weird, because she’s pining after Mr. Brody and he’s sitting across from her right now.”
“Seriously?” I’m a little excited for Miss Dunhill. Mr. Brody is pretty funny and I suppose he’s handsome, too, for an older guy. Miss Dunhill has been to our homeroom class a few times borrowing this or that and now I realize she was probably just making up reasons to talk to him. The thought of Miss Dunhill being crafty makes me smile. I study her expression as Mr. Brody talks to her across the table and then I see it, or rather feel it. “Oh,” I say, “I think I feel that now. But does he feel the same way?”
“Focus on him and see what you think.”
I concentrate but I can’t get a clear read of Mr. Brody. He looks a little self-conscious as he’s talking to Miss Dunhill, though, so I take a guess. “Yes?”
Alexander nods. “But he’s afraid to ask her out.”
I raise my eyebrows. “We’ll have to see what we can do about that.” I’m already concocting sitcom-like schemes in my mind to get them together. This is fun.
“Do you want to try Liz and Finn?”
“But they’re not here.”
“You know them well enough that I’m sure you can just think about them and picture their auras in your mind.”
“Really? Okay, I’ll start with Finn. I always feel so comfortable around him—he keeps me centered.” As I try to conjure up what his aura looks like, it’s clear to me why. “His energy feels honest … and also fiercely loyal … and kind. I picture a seamless cerulean blue. But I sense his anxiety about not always fitting in with the world, and that feels like darker shadows here and there.”
“Good description,” replies Alexander. “He has a solid, steadfast aura.”
“Okay, now Liz.” I can’t help but smile as I focus on how I feel around Liz. One color is really calling to me, but it’s so obvious I think it must be wrong. “Is it pink? I picture bright, shiny shades of pink radiating from her like sunbeams.”
Alexander laughs. “Yep, that’s about right. I liked Liz the first time I saw her aura. Finn, too. I can see why you’re all friends. Okay, let’s do another one. Someone you aren’t as close with.” He surveys the quad area. “How about Kelly Murphy?” He gestures with a nod to where she’s sitting under a tree with a bunch of people.
Kelly is one of the nicest girls at school. She’s friends with every group, accepts everyone, and no matter what you’re doing, she makes it fun. I’ve often thought she would be a perfect cruise director. I can tell Alexander is choosing all cheery people on purpose.
“Okay, I’ll try.” I focus on her intently and do my best to pick up on exactly how her energy feels so I can assign a color to it. “I’m not sure … I picture it as a kaleidoscope or party sprinkles—it’s all different colors.”
He smiles. “You’re good at this.”
The bell rings signaling the end of lunch before we can go on. “Can we try more later?”
“Aye. It’s good practice. Identifying the energy around you is the first step to being able to control what you let in.”
I think about what he said as we walk to class. One person who can’t seem to wrap her head around the fact that Alexander and I are together is Molly Bing. The venom she’s been directing at me is poisonous and although Alexander has tried to teach me a little about how to protect myself from negative energy, I still have panic attacks when he’s not around.
After school Alexander notices the hair around my face is wet again.
“You okay?” he asks.
I nod. “Remind me again why being an empath is a good thing?”
He pulls me in close and as I rest my head on his shoulder he whispers, “It is, Declan. Once you’re able to control it, you’ll see.”
I lift my head and notice Molly walking to her BMW across the parking lot. She doesn’t see me so I think it might be a good time to try to read her. “I want to guess what Molly’s aura looks like.”
“You sure? We haven’t practiced with negative energy yet.”
“I know, but you said the first step to controlling it is being able to identify it. I want to know what I’m dealing with. I can’t rely on you to protect me all the time. I need to learn how to do this myself.”
He nods and I concentrate hard on imagining what surrounds her. She’s leaning against the car talking to her friend Suzie and I pick up a strong feeling of disdain. For some reason that makes me profoundly sad. “I don’t think she likes Suzie very much.”
Alexander nods.
I focus some more. “Gray … I picture a mottled gray cloud all around her. And puce. I see gray and puce.” It’s depressing but I sense this is going to help me—putting a picture to what I feel from her is already making Molly seem less formidable.
“Very accurate. I’m not sure what the heck puce is, but the rest of what you said sounded right,” he teases.
I laugh and he pulls me into his arms again. “We need to practice some more. I think you’re ready. I talked with Edwin last night and I have some new ideas.”
“If you say so.” My voice is less than confident.
“Great—I do say so. Class starts at 7 p.m. In your room. After dinner with your mom,” he adds with a smile.
I smile back, but inside I’m thinking how desperately I hope it works this time.
We’re in the kitchen and pots and pans are everywhere. Alexander is cooking dinner—some Aussie food, he says—to thank my mom for all the meals she’s been making for us. I’ve been enlisted to help. Edwin was invited also, but he had other business to attend to. Alexander didn’t go into details but I wonder if it has to do with Avestan and dark angels.
The menu is meat pies and lamingtons, which Alexander tells me are little sponge cakes dipped in chocolate and rolled in coconut. I told him I was on board as soon as he said chocolate. My mom sits at the kitchen island and talks with us as Alexander and I chop onions and ready the small pie tins, lining them with pie crust. While Alexander browns the ground beef and simmers the sauce ingredients, we take turns plugging in our iPods and choosing songs to listen to as we talk. Alexander jokingly suggests “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” so we can reprise our duet from the fundraiser. Yeah, right.
When everything is ready we fill the tins with the meat mixture and cover the tops with pie crusts. We slide them into the oven on a baking sheet and while the meat pies are cooking, we pull out the sponge cakes we made earlier and carefully coat them with chocolate icing and roll them in coconut. Then we make a giant salad and we’re just finishing up as the timer for the meat pies goes off.
“Mmm, delicious,” my mom says, sounding a little surprised after her first bite.
“Thanks, Mrs. Jane. I was hoping you’d like them. You’ll have to come to our house next time and Edwin and I can barbecue. He makes great kabobs.”
“That would be wonderful, and please, Alexander, you know you can call me Judy.”
“Judy Jane … I don’t know if I ever told you but I really like your name. It has great alliteration.”
“Thank
you,” she smiles. “I’ve always liked it, too. Stop me if I’ve told you this story before—I know Declan has heard it a hundred times. When I met her father I knew immediately he was the one but when he told me his name was Frank Jane that might have clinched it if I hadn’t already fallen for him. I’ve always loved the name Jane. It’s solid. You know you can count on a Jane. Plus, Jane Austen is one of my favorite authors and Jane Eyre is one of my favorite literary characters. Declan’s first name probably would have been Jane if we didn’t already have it as our last. But I love the name Declan—it means ‘full of goodness’ and I knew it was right for her the moment she was born.”
“I agree,” says Alexander, looking at me and smiling. He turns back to my mom, “Which Jane Austen book is your favorite?”
“Oh, that’s easy—Pride and Prejudice. I mean, honestly, she had me at Mr. Darcy.”
I’m wondering if my mom is a little tipsy from the two glasses of wine she had while we were making dinner.
“I think I’ve watched the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice with Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy at least ten times,” my mom continues. “But I love all her books. Declan does, too. I’ve read them and re-read them so often. Jane Austen was a genius observer of human nature.”
Alexander nods. “And what is it you like about Jane Eyre?”
“She’s a strong female character. She has an iron core and knows her worth. Whatever life throws at her, she picks herself up and keeps going. She’s also generous and she loves deeply and with such integrity. She reminds me of Declan.”
I blush as my mom continues. “I just saw the latest film adaptation of Jane Eyre with Michael Fassbender as Mr. Rochester—whew,” she says with a laugh as she picks up her napkin and fans herself comically. “It was very good.”
Okay, now I know she must be tipsy. It’s nice to see her laughing and enjoying herself though. I’m starting to realize how subdued she’s been ever since my dad died. She hasn’t dated once in eight years. Not once. And I know Chief Stephens likes her. I wish she’d consider it. She says she’ll never find anyone like my dad so why even try? Maybe seeing me so happy with Alexander will make her consider giving life a chance again. She tells me all the time what a nice young man she thinks he is. Once she even told Alexander he was “an angel” for helping her load the car with a bunch of heavy real estate signs. I almost choked on the water I was drinking.
Guardian (The Guardian Series Book 1) Page 11