by Laury Falter
“I know I’m being irresponsible by leaving us exposed but I will not live in fear.”
“Acts of self-preservation are not a reflection of living in fear.” I could guarantee that he’d said this line many times before.
“It is to me.” I said firmly, taking a seat in my chair, tilting it back, and propping my feet up.
Eran groaned but dropped into the chair next to me. “You’re never easy on me…”
We sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the squeak of my chair as it complained against my rocking motion.
My rocking was meant to be more of a diversion from my thoughts than to pass the time. Eran’s proximity to me posed a challenge. His very presence pulled me to him and it took a defined force inside me not to stand, slide into his lap, and lift my lips to his – damn his worries of distraction.
In truth, though I would never admit this to him, he’d been correct about my enemies finding me again and he’d been correct about avoiding affection with me. It was our brief moment tonight when his eyes were locked on me that Marco and his gang appeared – and we hadn’t noticed them until they made themselves known. We would have been easy prey.
Despite it all, there was an undeniable part of me that refused to let go of the notion that life without love – or at least exploring that love - is an empty one.
When I looked at him sitting stoically in the chair next to mine, I knew that I would die for him just as he would die for me – and that risk of death didn’t deter my love for him in the least.
Eran’s face was still impassive, his body was motionless. His entire being appeared to be absorbed in thought.
Then he spoke suddenly, catching me by surprise. “I won’t let them near you. They won’t touch you, Magdalene.” His tone was self-assured, a trait that Eran radiated.
I reached out and laid my hand on his arm. He sucked in his breath, clearly fighting the same urges as me. “I know…” I said, softly, to both circumstances.
Then his mood changed, hands curling around the armrests of his chair, his muscles flexing beneath my hand. I glanced up to find his eyes narrowed at some distant memory coming to the surface. “Not this time…”
That gave me a jolt but I didn’t think now would be the best time to ask what he meant. I got the sense that he wanted to jump up and preemptively attack them and I’m not sure he wouldn’t have if he knew where they could be found.
He was clearly struggling with his thoughts so I changed the subject. “Should we tell Ezra what happened tonight?”
Eran took a moment to recover before answering and then said in a slightly less troubled tone, “I’ve been considering it. But there’s no need to upset them when we have no proof of Marco being truthful one way or another.”
I agreed with a nod. “If Marco is telling the truth and there are others coming for us, who do you think they are?”
Eran drew in a deep breath and shook his head, confirming my assumption that he wasn’t taking Marco’s prophecy lightly. “We have so many enemies, Magdalene, it’s impossible to know at this point.”
I didn’t want Eran wrapped up in protecting me. I had never asked for it and I still didn’t entirely believe it was needed. But it was comforting to hear him use the word ‘we’ and to reaffirm that we were together.
I opened my mouth to ask a lingering question, one that kept pestering me since our brief interlude with Marco, but I wasn’t sure if it would upset Eran further.
“Go ahead,” he said, noticing, encouraging me. “What’s on your mind?”
“Well…Marco.”
Eran again grew tense.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me asking?” I hesitated.
Despite his overwrought appearance, he said, “No, I don’t mind you asking about Marco. If he stays – and it sounds like he plans to – it’s important for you to know what to expect from him.”
I shook my head, irritated now. “Sometimes I can’t stand being a reborn.” Most of those on earth are considered reborn, having come here for an educational experience and intentionally forgetting their past lives so as not to impede their learning in this life. I had chosen this path too and it had prevented me from remembering anything at all about our enemies. Why I had chosen to come back as a reborn - and without my memory or the powerful assets that others had brought back with them, others like Eran and Marco - had always been a mystery to me. It was one that no one seemed able to answer which was a cause of deep frustration for me.
“You came here for a reason,” he said drawing my attention. Supportive of me even when I wasn’t, he added, “You always do.”
I smiled my appreciation. “I’m trying to work through the ambiguity, to remember anything I can, and Marco hinted at a past…So I’m wondering how we know him.”
In reaction, Eran’s lips quivered in anger but thankfully it seemed to be fleeting. He then drew in a breath and cleared his mind. “As you are aware, you’ve been to earth multiple lifetimes. Each one introduced new risks to you as Fallen Ones found you and then…” He paused, stiffening, and then continued, “…and then attempted to slay you. Only Marco has differed from that…rhythm. Marco didn’t start out as other Fallen Ones do. While others fall as a choice or are required to fall as punishment for their sins, Marco…well, he was fooled in to it.”
“Fooled?” I repeated, allowing that understanding to sink in. “That sounds awful.”
Eran grimaced, though I couldn’t understand why my pity would cause that reaction. “Yes. I’m sure it was,” he concluded.
Even though Eran’s answer sounded dispassionate, I made an effort to comfort him. “I only meant that he’s now required to live an eternity in a place he didn’t necessarily choose,” I explained, hoping the odd disappointment I saw in Eran would subside.
“I understand,” Eran said serenely. “I’m not offended. I just don’t enjoy recounting it because, at that time, he tried to assume my role.”
“Your role?”
“Yes…Marco was your bodyguard.”
“My what?” I said, loudly. I couldn’t have been more surprised if he’d told me that I’d been a cat in my past life.
“Your guard. You hired him to protect you during the French Revolution. They were chaotic times, Magdalene. No one knew who they could trust. Even relatives were suspect. In retrospect, you made the right choice but chose the wrong person.”
“Okay…” I muttered, allowing the realization to sink in. “So I hired him to be my guard. What happened after that?”
Eran dipped his head and when he looked up, his lip curled. “After that…he fell in love with you.”
I didn’t quite believe what I was hearing. “Fell in love? With me?”
“Yes,” Eran replied, his lips thinned in resentment at the memory. “Marco fell in love with you.” Eran turned to look at me for the first time. “But it doesn’t mean he won’t hesitate to kill you. He is enamored with you superficially. It can’t be compared to-“ He stopped himself then.
“To us,” I finished. “It can’t be compared to us.”
Eran turned away again. “No. It cannot be compared to us in the smallest sense.”
I paused, realizing a little conquest had been won. Each time Eran, who kept me at a distance, admitted his true feelings for me under any circumstance I felt placated. It was a small victory but one I savored. I tried to hide my joy but wasn’t sure if I’d succeeded. "So…he was my guard and he fell in love with me.”
“Yes,” Eran grumbled. “He then proceeded to try to protect you from Fallen Ones without fully understanding his predicament. At the time of his death, at the hands of a Fallen One, he was told by that Fallen One if he were to die and return to join their ranks, that he would be able to have you for all eternity.”
I gasped. “I find that incredibly offensive.”
“You should,” Eran replied, clearly satisfied with my reaction. “As you know, he did return but…clearly he did not win you over.”
&nb
sp; “No, and he never will.”
Even with Eran’s head facing away, I could see him respond with a content smirk.
“So did time heal old wounds or is he still in love with me.”
“Slighted…would be the word I would use to describe him.”
I absorbed all that Eran had told me for a moment and then a somewhat pertinent question came to mind.
“So as my eternal guardian, where were you when Marco was sacrificing his life for me?”
For the second time, Eran turned to me. I could see in his manners that he was hurt by my inference. “He did not sacrifice his life for you. To clarify, he nearly plunged himself into the sword in order to be given the powers to defeat me.”
“Defeat you? So you were there, protecting me.”
Eran responded, equally firm and passionate, “Always…Magdalene.”
I had never – to my recollection – seen Eran jealous for me. But at this moment, it seemed to flow from every pore in his body, and it surprised me.
He looked away again. “As it is, he has since found another squad to run with…one he can influence and dominate.”
I reached out and placed my hand on his arm again. “Thank you for telling me.”
“It is important that you know. He won’t stay hidden in the shadows while he’s here. That much I can guarantee. Marco enjoys your attention.”
With that affirmation, I couldn’t help but sigh in frustration. If Marco did start interfering with my life (again) I would be living as if I were perpetually walking around with my finger stuck in an electrical outlet. As was the case when any Fallen One was nearby, I would be alerted to his presence by the hair standing up on the back of my neck and often times a rapidly increased heart rate, a sudden gush of perspiration, and clammy, shaking hands. This helped to alert me that my enemies were nearby – which I appreciated - but it was also a real irritation.
As if reading my mind, Eran said, “You’re going to need to control that radar of yours.”
“You know…I’m not sure I can.”
Eran considered this for a moment. “I saw it flare up tonight when Marco arrived.”
“Yeah, it only hurts when a lot of them are nearby. Usually it’s just an annoyance.”
“Good…Then maybe there is a way you can control it.”
“You think so?” I was immediately interested. Anything to overcome the unpleasant feeling of panic in their presence would give me some peace-of-mind. “Being so wrapped up in trying to calm my reaction leaves me open…vulnerable.”
“That is exactly what worries me,” replied Eran. He shifted in his seat to face me. “Have you tried concentrating on something else, anything else, when one was nearby and…clearly…unable to reach you?”
I shook my head.
“You have an amazing ability to focus, Magdalene. I’ve seen it. Attempt to concentrate on something other than your reaction to them.”
I shrugged. “I can try.”
Eran sat motionless and then I watched as his face fell in distress. “As much as I try to protect you…” His voice trailed off as he became lost in thought.
“I know,” I said, trying to draw him back to me. “I know. There are some things I just need to handle myself.”
His eyes rose and stared at me with such determination it frightened me a little. “If I could, I would absorb all the pain you feel.”
“I wouldn’t want that, Eran.”
“I know you wouldn’t.”
I was overwhelmed then with the feeling that he was fighting every urge to take me into his arms, to wrap me in his protective embrace. I watched his breathing grow shallow and staggered as his need to shield me from the world shared his need to feel my touch. He wasn’t alone in the struggle.
“Eran,” I whispered.
He drew in a quick, tense breath. “Magdalene…”
Then he stood. His head tilted back to avert his gaze from me, regaining his strength and sense of purpose.
“We have to get up early.”
“Right,” I grumbled recalling that holiday break was now over and school started again in the morning. Knowing that I’d be required to return to a private school run by a principal who hated me and students who’d built my reputation up to rival the Wicked Witch of the West, I was entirely unenthusiastic.
My only consolation was that Eran had enrolled too.
“And we’ll need to be extra diligent,” said Eran.
His words were a good reminder that I had enemies and that they seemed to be flocking here at this very moment.
We closed the French doors behind us, turning the locks in place. I watched him leave and cross the hall to his room. It was painful to be so close and yet so far from him, but we did leave our bedroom doors open. It gave me some consolation, not that he could come to my rescue if I needed it but that he wanted the same thing I did: to prevent any more barriers from keeping us apart.
CHAPTER THREE: MS. BEEDINWIGG
We woke up the first day of school to a thunderstorm pummeling New Orleans.
A loud crack resonated through the house just as I opened my eyes. From my place on the bed I could hear a hurried downpour of water outside my French doors. I imagined that a swift, steady flow had already filled the gutters, spilling out on to the streets and the ferns hanging from balconies around the city had become waterfalls.
A rumble of thunder resonated through the house, rattling the windows. Soon after, a bolt of lightning flashed and I knew by timing that the storm had just arrived.
From the sounds of it, Ezra was not going to like what it would do to her vegetable garden.
“It seems we’ll need an umbrella today,” Eran reflected.
I was overjoyed to hear his voice but it surprised me that it didn’t come from the direction of the door.
I sat up in bed and found him slumped in the wingback chair in the corner of my room. His eyes were swollen and bloodshot and his clothes were disheveled.
“How long have you been there?”
“All night,” he replied nonchalantly.
I gawked at him.
“I did keep the door open,” he informed me.
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not really what I’m thinking about…Why didn’t you lay down with me?”
“That may have allowed for a more restful night but I’m not sure it would have been a good idea.”
My shoulders slumped. “But why?”
He drew in a breath and pushed himself up from the chair with a groan. “Because…I’m not sure I could have contained myself,” he admitted. Without allowing me to respond, he added, “See you downstairs in thirty.”
I felt a smile stretch across my face. The moment Eran left my room my feet hit the floor running. I showered, dressed, and slipped on my biker boots in record time.
Downstairs I found Ezra and Rufus reading the newspaper, the kitchen smelling of freshly brewed coffee. Felix was at the stove concocting asparagus waffles and herbed syrup.
“Good morning,” I said loud enough to be heard over the rain.
After a muttering of greetings they each returned to what they’d been doing. Judging by the amount of energy in the room, it seemed that no one had gotten a good night’s rest.
I took a mug and poured coffee to the rim, then refilled everyone else’s cup in exchange for thankful expressions from each.
Within a few minutes, Felix’s mystifying waffles and syrup were placed on the table. Rufus clearly was not cooking his regular eggs and breakfast meat today and, given my inability to even boil water, I didn’t have much choice but to pull a few waffles on to my plate.
Felix gleamed proudly at me.
After a few bites and hefty swallows of straight, rich coffee, they didn’t seem so bad. I was chewing without face contortion by the time Eran entered the kitchen.
He mumbled “good morning” and received the same response I had. Then he too poured himself a cup of coffee, although this one was into a jumbo mug.
&nbs
p; “No prerequisite meeting with the principal today?” Ezra inquired.
Mr. Warden required all new students to meet with him prior to beginning classes. I’d gone through it myself and considered it an interesting little introduction in to his demented, narcissistic world that the rest of us would call school grounds.
Eran swallowed and said, “It’s scheduled in a half an hour.”
“Ah, that should be fun…” Ezra mused, knowing personally what Mr. Warden was like.
Eran repressed a smile.
Felix dangled his keys in front of Eran and nodded towards the window, a motion that said it was too dangerous to drive a motorcycle today.
After a quick chuckle, Eran said, “Thanks. I was going to ask.”
“We won’t need it. No chance of visitors in The Square today.”
I grinned my thanks to Felix and finished my entire plate of waffles just for his sake. Then I picked up my book bag and we headed out of the kitchen towards the front door.
Eran stopped at the opening to say, “By the way, I thought it would be appropriate if I were to start helping with the rent.”
They each shook their heads but it was Ezra who spoke. “That is not necessary.”
“I knew that would be your response but…I feel I should contribute. And…I have a little extra money.”
Felix, who strayed from his usual behavior and broke the rules of social etiquette, cocked his head and asked, “Well, how much extra money?”
“Four million dollars,” Eran replied earnestly, without a hint of conceit. “It should give us some peace of mind…”
Felix and Rufus’ mouths dropped open but no sound came out, jaws dangling, shocked in to silence. Ezra was the only one to respond, her eyebrows, her tone showing solemn amazement. “Well, we could all use a little of that.”
I giggled after we’d ducked and ran for Felix’s car. “Felix is right now making a mental list of his birthday wishes.”
Eran responded by throwing back his head and releasing quiet laughter.
For the remainder of our drive to school, neither of us spoke. We each kept our focus on our surroundings. I half expected Marco to drop in front of the car as we drove through the streets against the pouring rain. That was dramatic, I knew, but I also knew that I had to be prepared for anything.