I walked to the patio doors and looked outside. The sun was shining and the sky was clear. There wasn’t even a wisp of a cloud in the blue sky. The day was calm. The multi-colored leaves on the branches were still.
Himmel, my ass.
I’d just turned from the door and took a step toward the family room when I heard a loud crack in the backyard. I swirled around in time to see a bolt of lightning hit the old oak in our yard. A huge limb fell and bounced twice on the ground before it stilled.
Uh-oh. I think I just pissed off a demon. My bad.
Glancing up, I watched as the clear sky darkened. Black clouds swirled. The wind ripped through the trees. It was so strong it rattled the windows.
“Um, Mom, I think we need to get in the basement.” I backed out of the glassed-in patio.
“It looks pretty nasty out, doesn’t it?” She looked out the window over the kitchen sink where she was mixing something pink and green in a bowl. At least I wouldn’t have to choke that down.
“Mm–hmm. C’mon, Ben. Let’s play in the basement for a while.” I held out my hand to him.
“‘Kay.” Ben gathered up a load of toys in his arms and followed me to the basement door.
“It’s stuck,” my mom said.
“Huh?”
“It’s stuck. I can’t get it open.”
Another loud crack sounded in the backyard. My mom and I jumped. Ben screamed. Another large tree fell—in our kitchen. We stood huddled in the small mudroom where the basement door and back door were. The tree filled the kitchen and part of the family room where my mom and Ben had just been minutes before.
“Again? Really? I just got that kitchen the way I wanted it,” my mom said, throwing her hands up in the air and letting them fall and slap on her thighs. Like the kitchen was our biggest problem at that point.
Grabbing Benjamin, I ran out the door. I shouted to my mother over my shoulder, “Mom, c’mon. We need to get out of here and to a basement. We need to get to Uncle Rory’s.”
“Go! I’m right behind you.”
I tried to run with Ben in my arms, but he was so heavy, I had to put him down. “Hold my hand, Ben. Don’t let go,” I told him. He nodded and squeezed my hand. We ran toward my uncle’s house across the street. The wind ripped branches off trees; debris swarmed around us. Electrical currents vibrated through my fingers as I used my power of telekinesis to wave the debris away. The air seemed to circle like water going down a drain, and the day had turned so dark, it was hard to see. And if I couldn’t see, I couldn’t use my telekinesis. I needed to get us to Uncle Rory’s house before it got any darker.
I was running, pulling Benjamin behind me, when something hit me hard in the stomach, pushing me backward. I fell on my back with a grunt, hitting my head on the pavement. My hand slipped from Ben’s.
Stars danced in front of my eyes. I tried to sit up. The world spun under me. I braced myself with one hand, the other I put on the back of my head—my hair felt warm and sticky.
“Ben!” I screamed. “Mom!”
I could hear my mother and Ben call to me, but the wind was roaring, and the day had turned so dark, it was impossible to tell where they were.
“Run to Uncle Rory’s. Go fast,” I shouted.
They didn’t answer.
“Ben?”
He still didn’t answer. As I stood up, I swayed to the side from the force of the wind and dizziness caused by my head meeting the pavement. I hurried to where I’d last seen Ben. He wasn’t there. I turned in circles, not finding my mother or Ben. I screamed for them, but they didn’t answer.
Maybe they made it to Muriel and Uncle Rory’s house.
I stumbled in the general direction of their house, waving away pieces of tree branches flying through the air, leaves and twigs swirling around them. The wind blew me backward; my muscles shook from strain as I walked against the brutal gusts. I shielded my eyes with one hand and used my other to clear a path for me. But I had trouble tapping into my telekinetic power. It was hard to concentrate while I was focused on pushing through the wicked wind and finding Ben. And it was almost too dark for me to see the debris. If I couldn’t see it, I couldn’t move it.
On my right, I heard a faint clanging sound— metal against metal. Something large and white was flying in my general direction. I tipped my head to the side, trying to get a better look.
What is that?
Something hit me hard from the side, tackling me to the ground. No, not something. Someone.
“Get down,” he shouted over the wind.
I looked up just as a white patio table flew over my head. “Thank you,” I shouted. “I need to get to Muriel’s house, Xavier.”
“No, too dangerous. It’s the first place the demons will look for you. Let’s go,” Xavier jerked me up and pulled me behind him, and away from my uncle’s house.
“Wait! Ben and my—”
“Are with me. C’mon.”
I let him lead me. We zigzagged through the blowing debris. Tree branches, patio furniture, and grills all flew through the air. I concentrated on my power and pushed them away to create a clear path for us. Siding and shingles were ripped from houses. Car alarms blared and house security sirens shrieked.
“Here.” He pushed me through an opening in a fence. I had no idea where we were or where we were going. It was so dark and the wind blew dirt and leaves in our faces, I wondered how Xavier was able to navigate.
Tripping through the fence, I landed on my knees on the other side. I bit my lip to hold in a scream, but it slipped out anyway. Xavier was quickly through after me.
“What?” He tried to pull my hands away from my knee. I could feel the blood seep through my fingers. The thought of it gushing made my stomach churn and bile rise in my throat. My head started to spin. “Move your hand.”
I lifted my hands. They were slick with blood. A large piece of glass was embedded in my thigh, just above my knee.
“It’s not that bad. Come on. We gotta go,” he said and helped me up.
He put my arm around his neck and his around my waist. My hand immediately went to his hand at my waist and held it.
Wait. Xavier?
The feel was different. This man was tauter, taller. His shoulders were wider and his hands bigger, stronger. The wind had distorted his voice, so I hadn’t notice the difference. But touching him? Holding on to him? I knew without a doubt it wasn’t Xavier.
“Chay,” I said.
I knew he heard me over the roaring wind and the sound of debris crashing around us. As soon as I said his name, he stiffened. He didn’t answer me. He didn’t need to. It was him. I’d know him anywhere. Even in a tornado—which was coming right at us.
We ran to his house. I could feel the warm blood ooze down my leg. With each movement, the chunk of glass tore my skin. Ripples of pain radiated up and down my leg.
“Get down,” he said, pushing me into the basement stairwell. “The safest place is under the stairs.”
I rounded the corner and let out a sob of relief. There, under the stairs with Chay’s parents, were my mom and Ben. We huddled together and listened to the tornado ravage the neighborhood outside. Although, it didn’t sound like it was doing much damage to the neighborhood in general. It seemed to be hovering over the Roberts’ home. The sound was deafening, a constant roar.
My mom hugged Ben’s head to her chest, covering his ears. I curled my bleeding leg around myself, trying to stem the flow of blood. I pulled my good knee to my chest and lay my head on it, one arm over my head to cover my exposed ear. I could feel the blood matted in my hair. I tried not to think about it. When I did, the contents of my stomach sloshed from side to side and threated to make a return visit. I concentrated on breathing—in through my nose, out through my mouth—and not yakking all over the basement floor.
I turned my head so I could watch Chay. He stood with his shoulder leaning against the wall, his thumb hooked through the belt loop of his jeans, which were smeared with my blo
od.
He looked the same as the last time I saw him. Gorgeous, of course. The same eyes, not quite blue, but not quite green. A color somewhere in between. Something all his own. But he had a hardness that wasn’t there before. He looked angry.
Finally, after what seemed like hours but was likely less than ten minutes, the roar of the wind died to a low howl and we could hear each other talking.
“Milayna! I’m sorry,” Ben said, tears running down his cheeks.
“For what, frog freckle?”
“I let go.”
I wrapped him in a hug. “It’s okay. You couldn’t help it.” I said, brushing the hair from his eyes.
“Does your head hurt?”
“Yes. And my leg,” I turned and showed him my knee. His eyes widened.
“Owie!”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, Milayna, I have water. Let me clean that for you,” Mrs. Roberts said.
I sat next to her and extended my leg. My mom pulled out the chunk of glass. The room started to tilt to the side when I heard it ripping my skin as it tore free. I stole a look at it… I really shouldn’t have done that. Little strings of skin hung from the jagged edges. The clear surface was painted red with my blood. The room tilted a little more.
“The room is spinning, right?” I asked.
“Maybe you should lie down,” my mom said.
“No, I’m okay.”
“Here you go. Hold this cloth on it until the bleeding stops.” Mrs. Roberts placed a white T-shirt over the cut and put my hand over it. She patted the back of my hand and winked at me. I gave her a shaky smile back. At least, I thought I did.
I was still reeling from getting a good look at Chay for the first time in nearly six months. From touching him. Being in the same room with him. I couldn’t stop stealing glances at him. But he didn’t seem the least bit interested in me. He’d sat on the floor next to his father. His legs were bent, his elbows rested on his knees, and his hands dangled between them.
“I wonder how long it will take him to give up?” I muttered. I hadn’t realized I said it loud enough for anyone to hear.
“Who?” Mr. Roberts turned and looked at me.
“Himmel.”
“Himmel?”
“Yes. Himmel is one of the Four—”
“The Four Brothers. Yes, I know about them. I’m just trying to figure out how you do?”
“Because they are helping Azazel kill me and…” my gaze flickered toward Ben, “others.”
His brows furrowed, he asked, “How do you know?”
“They’ve told me in my visions.”
“That’s impossible. Our visions are just that—visions. We don’t hear them.”
“I do. And what I heard today was that Himmel was coming. Himmel is the demon of sky and air, right? Well, excuse my disrespect, but I think I heard correctly.”
Mr. Roberts’ lips twitched into a grin. “No disrespect, Milayna. I apologize. I don’t know how your visions come to you. So you hear, huh?”
I nodded slowly. “Sometimes. Yeah.”
“Interesting,” he said.
“I suppose.” I tilted my head and listened. “I don’t hear the wind anymore,” I said.
“Stay here. I’ll take a look,” Chay told us.
He jogged up the stairs two at a time. I was up and around the corner before anyone could stop me. Actually, that wasn’t true. If they’d wanted to stop me, they could’ve easily done so. My leg flippin’ hurt and it was bleeding everywhere. I was about as fast as a tortoise. But no one tried to stop me, so I hobbled up the stairs after Chay.
I ran into him as he was coming back to the basement stairs. Literally. Ran right into him.
“Chay,” I breathed. I dropped the bloody rag on the floor and stood straight so I could look at his face, his blue-green eyes. Grabbing onto his arms, I squeezed gently, moving my hands across his chest, up to his shoulders, and to his face. I cupped his cheeks in my palms, my thumbs caressing his skin.
He didn’t touch me. His hands were fisted. I could feel his jaw tighten under my hands.
“I’ve missed you so much,” I whispered.
He didn’t say anything.
I stood on my tiptoes and leaned in for a kiss. That was when it happened. The slap. Not an actual slap, although that probably would’ve hurt far less. He jerked away from me, stepping backward. I stumbled forward, bracing myself on a table.
“The storm is over. I’ll tell the others,” he said and brushed past me.
The slap of cruel rejection. I wasn’t sure anything could have hurt more. It stole my breath. I felt my heart painfully skip a beat—not the heart fluttering you felt when you had your first kiss, but a brutal stabbing pain that brought tears to your eyes.
Chay was back, but he wasn’t my Chay. Not anymore.
Maybe never again.
“He didn’t even look at me.” My voice was strained. It felt like I’d eaten an entire loaf of bread and the slices had clumped together, the doughy mass lodging in my throat.
“Another insurance claim. Can you believe this crap? We’ll be lucky if they don’t drop us. First the garage fire, then the house fire, now a tree through the house.” My mom shook her head as she sorted through things that could be saved and those that had to be tossed.
“Gee, Milayna, I’m sorry that the love of your life, who just came home after being missing for six months, won’t even look at you, much less talk to you. That must really hurt. Would you like to talk about it?” I said in a voice that mimicked my mother. “Well, gee, Mom, that’d be peachy. I think I would like to talk about it. But first, let me forget all about my problems and focus on yours.” I tossed the cookbooks I held in the recycle bin and ran upstairs to my bedroom—which had a huge hole in it. “Damn it.”
Sliding down the wall, I hugged my knees to my chest and laid my head on them. Closing my eyes, I pictured Chay’s face two nights before. He looked so angry. He didn’t seem angry with his parents. He didn’t seem particularly angry with my mother or Ben. In fact, he played army men with Ben. Just me. He was angry with me. Why?
Oh! Stupid! I am so stupid. He blames me for having to leave his family. That’s why he’s angry with me. He blames me.
It was like a punch in the gut, a stab in the back, a kick in the teeth, and whatever other cliché I could think of—a slap in the face, yeah, that too.
After all these months of worrying his parents blamed me, I never thought about Chay. I didn’t think he’d blame me. After all, I didn’t want him to leave. He chose to go. I wanted him to stay. Always to stay.
I sat in the hall, watched the sun play across the floor, and thought it looked too happy. It should be a dreary day. Cold and gray, like my mood. It wasn’t a day to be cheerful and sunny. Chay hated me. How could life go on like normal? My mom worried about which cookbooks could be salvaged—she couldn’t even cook! My dad worried about retrieving work files off the soggy computer. Ben, well, he couldn’t be expected to understand. But it still irritated me that he was so happy when I was so miserable. Chay still liked him.
Our house was shot—again. It seemed like every time a demon was in our life, our house was destroyed. We’d just moved back in since the fire. At least it shouldn’t take as long to fix the damage from the winds as it did to rebuild the house after the fire. I hoped not, anyway.
My dad informed me that morning we were staying with Xavier. Just what I needed. To stay with the one guy who wanted to date me while the one guy I wanted to date hated me. It was totally screwed up.
Maybe I didn’t like Xavier. No, I liked him a lot. Did I like him the same way I liked Chay? I didn’t know. Did I like him enough to move on from Chay? No. Would I be okay if he found someone else and moved on from me? Yes. I guess that answered my question. I liked Xavier a lot—maybe even loved him, but not the same way I loved Chay. Xavier was a friend. Chay was a lover. Who hated me.
Some days, I felt like my life was a living soap opera.
“
Milayna,” my mom called from downstairs.
“Yeah?”
“Are you finished packing your room?” she asked.
“I can’t get into my room, Mom, remember? The structural guy said no.”
“That’s right. We’ll go to the store to get you some things.”
Great. Shopping.
***
Shopping took up most of the afternoon and early evening. My mom thought I needed one of everything—in every color. I guess I should feel lucky. Most girls would kill for a mother like mine. And I did appreciate the gesture and the love behind it. But I was just a plain T-shirt and jeans kind of girl. I didn’t need all the skirts and heels she bought me. But I did love her for it.
“How’d the torture go?” my dad asked when Mom and I got to Xavier’s house.
I rolled my eyes. “Long.”
He laughed. “Better you than me.”
I lifted up the shopping bags I carried and shook them at him. “Way to throw me under the bus, Dad. Thanks,” I said with a smile.
***
It’d been hard getting out of the driveway that morning to go shopping. It was blocked by large tree limbs—trees from who knew where—and other debris. The patio table that almost took me out was laying in our front yard, as was someone’s grill and lawnmower.
Of all the houses in the neighborhood, ours suffered the most damage. There was a huge oak tree sitting in the middle of the kitchen and family room. It sliced through our house as if it were butter, starting at the second floor in my bedroom and bathroom, straight down to the first-floor kitchen and family-room combo. Siding was missing and roofing had blown away. The glass surrounding the patio was shattered, hit by pieces of debris, most of which were still lying on our patio—a basketball, a tree branch, a patio chair, a kid’s bike—we could almost have had a garage sale—except our garage had blown away.
We’d stayed with Grams the night before while we waited for the inspector to look at our house. Although, it was obvious what he was going to say. It wasn’t safe to live in. Grams insisted we stay with her, but her small, one-bedroom apartment wasn’t big enough for all of us. So when Xavier offered his house, my dad agreed under the condition we pay rent. I thought that meant Xavier wouldn’t be there—I really needed to listen better.
The Innocent Page 7