“But that’s the part you can’t control.” I rush to his side. “That’s the part of us I hope will change, so we’ll have a choice who we love.” I embrace him and he wraps his arms around me, holding me tight.
“I hope you’re right,” he whispers.
“You know, why don’t you go ahead to the dining room with Sam, and I’ll meet you guys later. I think I need to clear my head and decide how to deal with the Grand Master.”
“Later, then.” He grabs my hand and kisses it gently, and then leaves, running to catch up with Sam.
I go back to my room, change clothes, and then head off on my own, needing some time to think because the stress has become too much to bear. I step inside the elevator, close the gate, and rotate the ancient crank. When I exit the elevator car and stroll into Olde Towne via the Raptor Gates, the sight of the charming Victorian buildings don’t excite me the way they used to. The colors, the warmth, and the scent of charcoal in the secret underground city used to awe me, with its sharp contrast to the windy city of Chicago above. Especially now with the seasons changing from fall to winter. Magically, everything always remains colorful here with machines controlling the weather and atmosphere.
Walking into one of several tunnels that exit away from the city, I find myself at the gym. It feels like forever since I trained. When I stop to really search my memory, the last night I practiced was with Turner, before he died.
The training room door slides open, sensing my presence. Lights automatically pop on and I shrug out of my hoodie, dropping it on the floor near the wall, and place the Animate on top.
At the center of the room on the mats, I stretch each limb and warm up with a few jumping jacks. With clenched fists, I throw several punches in the air, and after I’ve sufficiently pumped myself up, I activate the hologram training machines.
“Volta Swift, hologram 38.” Turner wiped out my training programs before he died, so from now on, I’ll fight Miss Swift’s holograms. They’re always meaner and nastier, and that’s exactly what I need to relieve this anxiety so I can think clearly.
Five machines mounted around the room activate, turning on at the sound of my voice. Their lights blink green and then the machine speaks. “Hologram number—38—choose any weapon. Prepare for street fighting. Training starts in thirty seconds,” the robotic voice says and begins counting down. Needing a challenge, I decide on no weapon.
After hearing the number one, a haze of electrical waves appear in a swirl. The particles swarm, forming three holograms. At the sight of the group, my heart rate accelerates. The trio is half beast/half human in form—two male, one female. One man carries a crowbar, which he spins on his palm. The woman holds a long chain that drapes at her side and heaps in a pile near her feet. The other man doesn’t need a weapon because his scaly hands curve into long claws.
The training holograms always know their mission, to destroy. And without any words of dispute, the group steps forward to challenge me.
The fight begins when the larger male attacks, taking a swipe at my face with his hand daggers. I easily duck out of the way but the girl tosses the heavy chain around my neck and pulls tight, restraining me, my back against her chest.
Readjusting my stance and steadying my feet, I twist to the side to release myself, grab the chain, and kick her in the stomach. She flies backward into the man, and they launch across the room, slamming into the wall. But by the time I turn my head, the third member of their group charges me.
I quickly realize the problem here isn’t that they’re especially gifted at fighting, it’s that I’m outnumbered. Fighting all three at once is not only complex but extremely tiring. Or maybe, by missing just a few weeks of workouts, I’m already out of shape. The thought worries me because I have no idea what I’ll truly be up against to fulfill the prophecy.
The fight continues, but I struggle to keep all three at bay. Honestly, my heart isn’t in it. Soon I’m pinned beneath one man’s foot while the girl pulls at one leg, and the other boy pulls at both arms, twisting them so far that I’m waiting for one to break.
“You win!” A voice across the room yells the safe words that turn the machines off. The three holograms fade into twinkling particles and disappear, allowing my limbs to flop to the mat in relief.
From my location on the floor, I push up with my palms and sit to look around. Hologram Turner rests in the corner, relaxed.
“I think you’ve lost your touch,” he says with a sad expression.
“Maybe if I still had my training partner, I’d be better,” I snap with irritation because I really wanted some time alone. “Why are you here?”
“I don’t want to be alone and I needed to distract myself too. Seems we have that in common.”
I can tell by his glassy eyes that he’s fighting with his sorrow of the news of his family, but in typical Turner fashion, he tucks his emotions away, puts on his macho facade, and confidently strolls forward.
“I’m standing right here and you didn’t ask me to come out and play.” He holds out his palms.
“Just needed some time to think. And clearly, I need a lot of work.” I stand and look around, annoyed and breathing heavily, and place my hands on my hips.
“I know, I read your mind.”
I look up, my eyes wide.
“It’s a two-way street, love. You slip into my mind, I slip into yours.”
“But—” I start to protest but that’s how this works with Protectors and Seers. Now that I’m slowly manifesting all three states, and showed him we could connect, he knows now. Thank goodness Bishop and I have not connected. The less people in my head, the better.
“It took a bit for your thoughts to become clear but now that they are, I can’t look away.”
I cross my arms.
“But don’t worry, all your secrets are safe with me. Even the juicy ones.” He wags his brows playfully, hiding his feelings behind his charm.
“All?”
He nods. I can see he’s happy to have the upper hand. “But you’re wrong about me. You don’t give me credit for being what I am. Even as a hologram I can help. You should have told me about my family. I’m still living my life, just in a different form. And I know for a fact that when you told me about Mum, Father, and Charlotte, my heart slipped away and disappeared with despair, but by standing in front of you here, alone, it eagerly returns to remind me just how much I still love you.”
I pause, thinking back to his zapping tears and my immediate need to console him. “And I still love you. I always will, but there can never truly be something between us. You’re still not real.” I look away. I know deep down that I’m lying to myself. Pretending that he’s not real is the only way I can justify the flirtatiousness between us. I’ve analyzed our unique situation from every angle. No matter what his form and as much as it kills me inside to push him away, I need to protect my mutilated and manipulated heart.
“That’s what I’m saying, I am real. This is real.” He hits his chest with passion. “And this is real.” He touches my hand, allowing electrical current to pass between us. The tingles ascend my arm and race across my chest, and my heart literally skips a beat at the shock. “And this.” He moves closer and wraps his strong arms around my back, gathering me into an electrifying embrace. His persuasion is impossible to resist. I relax against him, curling into his broad chest, enjoying the sizzling warmth of his love as it consumes me along with all the hurt we’ve been feeling. “And this is real.” He tenderly presses his lips into my hair, nuzzling his nose from side to side, and I want to melt into him right here, right now.
“Mmm-hmm,” I murmur as every nerve in my body activates. Automatically I return the embrace, sliding my hands along the defined muscles of his back, pulling him so close that no air separates us. Every molecule of my soul desperately wants to give in. There’s no denying it. The more our hands explore, bodies shifting against each other with friction, the more the heated energy builds between us, somehow prope
lling my need to consume him. I lift my face to drag my nose gently along his collarbone and he groans with pleasure. He dips his head to near mine and presses our cheeks together, and his expedited breathing rushes over my shoulder like a raging waterfall. My raw and unresolved feelings, though tampered with, are ones that I’ve suppressed for months. And now here he is, back from the dead, ready to be kissed with the same intense passion that we once shared before, and I still can’t allow myself the joy of loving him. I have too much guilt for loving two boys at once.
At the thought, I place my hands on his chest. No, I definitely can’t allow this. I have to do everything within my power to fight it, just as I do with Bishop. If I look up, he’ll kiss me. I know it. We can never be. My heart can’t take any more. And even though he acts tough, neither can his, regardless of whether it’s a real heart or not.
He’s not real. He’s not real!
Finally, I break away from the intensity of our connection and he sighs above me. I’m sure he’s read every word of the conflict in my mind.
“You know, some physicists think that the entire world, everything we experience, is an intricate hologram. It’s called the holographic principle.”
Now I look up at him with crossed arms, considering the possibility. “Okay, if the entire world is a hologram, then why do you look different from me?”
“Maybe because I’m only operating with the partial essence of my soul, the part that’s recorded on my dreamdrive.” He nods to the scorpion Animate on the floor across the room. “I’m just missing some of my mojo, but that doesn’t mean I’m not real. I can promise you, I feel real even if I don’t look the same as you.”
I hesitate to mull over his explanation. Yes, he did feel real; better than real. I shyly look away, heat rising through my body, and call him a nerd for his hologram lecture.
“But I’m quite a sexy one.”
“You wish.” I press my lips together to hide my smile because being here alone with him is exactly what I needed. “Let’s fight,” I suggest to break the tension.
“Your wish is my command.”
With a new bounce in his step, he walks away and turns to face me, crouching down, ready to attack. “You only have one left, you know.”
“One what?” I charge him, ramming my shoulder into his gut, slamming him into the ground. We roll several times until he lodges his knee in my stomach and flips me over, and we’re both standing on our feet again.
“One wish,” he says as he swings a high kick at my face. I lean away, enough that he doesn’t make contact, but so little that the whoosh of his foot passing by ruffles my hair. “You better make it a good one.” He turns and kicks again with the other foot. I duck down, twist, and sweep his leg from under him, making him fall on his back with a thud.
“I don’t think I recall the first wish.” I rush him in his vulnerable position on the floor. His arms circle my knees, forcing me to fall forward, tumbling onto him. Now chest to chest, faces inches apart, he locks me in a scissor grip with his legs, a wrestling move that’s nearly impossible to escape.
“I think I granted that one before I kicked the bucket,” he says as I struggle. He manages to capture my wrists and continues. “I seem to remember a vision of a very heated make-out session on a beautiful veranda on gala night.” I thrust forward to head butt him, but he easily avoids it. “You’ve already tried that move on me, remember, love?”
“Haven’t you heard, history always repeats itself?” I smash my elbow into the side of his cheek. The blow distracts him enough so that I scramble out of his grasp. With another elbow to his face, his legs release, and we grapple and roll until I manage to maneuver him onto his stomach. With our positions reversed, I’m sitting on his back with his arms pinned behind his hips.
“Do you give in?” I yank his arms. In retaliation, he kicks his leg, but I have him pinned for good.
“Give in, love,” I say, mimicking his British accent.
“Never. I’ll always fight for you.”
Even in the heat of battle, his choice of words doesn’t escape my notice. So I let him go, stand up, and step away.
“Let’s start again. This time with swords.” I walk to the wall of weapons, selecting a nice set, and turn and toss one blade to him. He easily catches the grip as he stands.
“Oh, now you’re in trouble,” he remarks with a twinkle in his eye.
“Why’s that?”
“My favorite movie as a child was The Princess Bride.”
“So?” I walk to face him and lunge into en garde position, pointing the blade of the sword in his direction.
“Just call me Inigo Montoya.”
::26::
Defense Arts
Turner and I train together, blowing off steam until late evening. And I try desperately to forget my feelings for him. With each uppercut, kick, and leg sweep, I’m building confidence for whatever I may tackle on my quest to fulfill the prophecy.
That’s when Sam and Bishop find us and tell us the news. They’ve skipped lunch in order to research the location of Unika’s crown at the exposition, but were unable to find any info.
“How do you suppose I discover where to travel back?” I ask, breathing heavily.
“There must be some clue we run across in the next day,” Sam says.
“I propose that we rest up for whatever happens next. We know you’re going to go back and find it. We’ve witnessed it for ourselves.” Bishop seems less emotional, more clear-headed than before. I hope he’s feeling better now that all of our feelings are on the table.
“True. I suppose it will present itself at the proper time.”
Even with the suggestion, we all stay up late talking about the issues at hand, and my head doesn’t hit my pillow until three a.m. Though I have no intention of waking early, I do when Sam knocks on my door.
“Come in.” I rub my eyes and face, and roll over on my back, pushing the comforter away.
The door cracks open, and she tilts her head in. “I think we should try to go to class. Today’s only a half day, and we have to at least pretend to be interested.” She comes in completely, closing the door. “And I’ve heard that the Grand Master’s returned.” She cringes.
I sit up, my sleepy eyes now wide open. “Oh no, the blood test. I totally forgot. I wonder if they know.”
“Well, they haven’t arrested you, so that’s something, right?”
“True.” I rub my arm to soothe myself. “And we need to figure out why he stole the journal. With him here, maybe we can get it back.”
“Let’s feel the situation out. Then we can better determine what we’re up against.” She looks at her watch. “You’ve got fifteen minutes to pull yourself together for breakfast.”
“Okay, I guess you’re right.” I sometimes wonder what I’d do without Sam. Just when I need it, she’s here to kick me in the rear, reminding me that I need to make it to the Oaths tomorrow and stay off the radar until then.
She nods and turns to leave, shutting the door behind her.
I take a shower and dress. When I emerge from my room, I find Bishop at the counter reading an old book and sipping a cup of breakfast tea. Gabe’s morning show blares from the TV in the background, spouting off about the Oaths and the parade in Gibeon in our honor, which is all taking place tomorrow.
I’ve had only a few hours of sleep in the last two days. Last night, without the journal to study, I had nothing else to do but live with my thoughts. Why would the Grand Master take it and what will he do to me for having it?
The scorpion Animate crawls across the floor to my feet. I pick it up, place it in the pocket of my hoodie, and approach Bishop, who pours me a cup of tea.
Bishop looks tired and worn, but slightly better today. Still, there’s no doubt he’s worrying about his family, just as I am. How old must they be now in Nocturna’s fast-forwarded time?
“Did you sleep?” I place my hand upon his arm.
“A little. I keep worrying about h
ow old my family is now. In Nocturna, Charlotte could be in her twenties.”
I hold back a smile, thinking how closely our thoughts parallel each other. “Everything will be okay. I promise.” Simple words, I know, but I give him what little encouragement that I can.
After we’re done, we leave for breakfast in the dining hall. Together, we sit at our usual table. Our friends Macey, Xavier, Quinn, Scarlett, Agnes, and Atticus straggle in one at a time, but they aren’t the ones that concern me. It’s the Society soldiers. We passed at least twenty of them on the way to the dining hall. The number has increased steadily since we broke into Gabe’s apartment.
“Why so many goons?” Macey asks and settles next to me with a plate full of breakfast food from the buffet.
I shrug. “Maybe because the Oaths are tomorrow. Don’t we have some preparation ceremony tonight?”
“On the contrapulator, in our sleep. They give you the details in your night classes, I’ve heard,” Bishop says.
Subliminally. Figures. They wouldn’t want you to realize they’re brainwashing you at the same time. Maybe I’ll actually have to stay up and listen to it, so I’ll know what to expect.
“Oh gosh, there he is.” I stare across the room. It’s Grand Master Levi. He strolls in and sits at the main table with Mr. Evanston, our principal. The teachers’ tables sit on a dais, looking out over the students.
The Grand Master’s gray fur coat hangs over the back of his ornate high-backed chair, and his skull cane leans against the table. Special tuxedoed butlers bring them food and drinks as soldiers stand at attention behind him.
I’m half waiting for him to lift his eyes to meet my gaze, to give me some kind of sign as to what he’s up to, but the two remain in deep discussion.
Seeing Light (The Seraphina Parrish Trilogy) Page 14