The Nexis Secret: YA Fantasy Romance (The Nexis Angel Series Book 1)

by Barbara Hartzler

  My jaw dropped, but I closed it with a snap, biting into my cheek to stop the scream that rose in my throat. Still, my blood curdled. “Why would they gouge out her eyes?”

  Bryan’s hand clamped around my shoulder. Was it to comfort me or hold me in my chair so I couldn’t run away? Brooke scribbled furiously on her notepad, filling page after page.

  The priest’s eyes probed mine, sort of like the subway eyes. Then his gaze softened as he adjusted his collar. “I’m obligated to tell you that the Catholic Church doesn’t endorse all of this as fact, since there’s not enough evidence to support it. That form of torture wasn’t common in that time but was done on occasion. There is evidence on both sides, but the older sources do support the theory.”

  The rotund man moved to a shelf on the opposite side of the room, his black suit crinkling as he moved. “Wait, I think we have something that will help.”

  He pulled out a large brown volume and gently laid it on the table in front of us. With shaky hands, he flipped through the ancient leather-bound parchment until he came to a picture. One I’d seen before, a woman with hollow eyes.

  “It’s also rumored that God gave her glorified eyes to replace the ones she lost. Whether that was in heaven or on Earth is much debated.” Then he flipped to another picture, a drawing of the sandy-haired saint with jeweled eyes.

  I gasped. I’d seen that image two times before, but never like this.

  Behind black frames, his eyes found me. “Beautiful, isn’t she? Personally, I find it hard to believe the part about her eyes isn’t true. All of the artwork from medieval times portrays her without eyes or with her eyes on a tray. Some even with her glorified eyes, like this rendering here. There must be a reason she’s the patron saint of the blind.”

  He slid the book back and shut it with a bang. “Even though the evidence is scant, that is mostly due to the time period. They didn’t call it the Dark Ages for no reason. Sometimes, you have to have a little faith.”

  I shot a sidelong glance at Laura and Brooke, but they wouldn’t meet my gaze. Did they know about this? Why wouldn’t they have told me already? Those questions twisted into an inner funnel cloud of what-ifs.

  He threw his hands up and let out a long sigh. “But alas, I am among the few who still believe the old legends. If we could only discover why Diocletian would gouge her eyes out, everything might finally fit into place.”

  “Is there anything else you can tell us, about the eye myth in particular?” Brooke’s pen paused for a split second. She actually met my gaze this time. “If that’s okay with you.”

  “Let’s hear all about it.” I couldn’t censor the blatant sarcasm. This saint’s story, coupled with that picture I’d seen in the Nexis book, hit too close to home. I certainly wouldn’t want to trade places with her. Why would I want to hear the rest of her sad tale?

  Father Patrick glanced at the Roman numeral clock above the doorway. “I wish I could stay and chat, but choir practice just ended. I’ve got to set up for tonight’s mass.”

  “Wait.” Brooke dropped her notepad, chewing on the end of her pen. “Are there any books you can point us to? I think this angle would be a great way to go for our paper. But we’d need some good sources for our reference list.”

  “Only if you promise to be extremely careful.” He circled the room, then came back with a stack of books and a wink. “I don’t want to hear you in confessional crying about how you ruined two thousand years worth of history.”

  Brooke helped him lay out the books one by one on the polished table. “I promise we’ll take good care of them.”

  “I’m leaving you in charge. I’ll be back in an hour.” He wagged his finger and walked out the door. Then he peeked his head back in. “You know my favorite part about St. Lucia? She is a picture to the church of how God’s love is blind. Even when we can’t see it, he loves us for who we are, not what we do.”

  “Interesting take,” I muttered under my breath. “Not exactly a perfect analogy if you’re the one getting your eyes gouged out.”

  “That was intense,” Brooke whispered, then held her breath until he left the room. “Why don’t we each take one book and see what we can dig up?”

  She pushed an aged greenish leather volume my way. The book had a strange symbol on it, a winged cross in the middle of a four-pronged circle. Kind of like the stained glass window up front. “What’s this emblem?”

  Bryan peeked over my shoulder. “That’s the Guardian crest.”

  The whole group except Brooke huddled around me to get a glimpse of the crest.

  “Is this a Guardian church or something?” All eyes turned on me like a pack of hungry dogs.

  Brooke gently shut her book. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because of the stained glass window out front.” As soon as the words flew out of my mouth she bolted out the door.

  “Wait here. We’re going to go check it out.” Laura scuttled down the hall after Brooke.

  Lenny eased down in the chair next to me. I’d almost forgotten he was there, he hadn’t said a word most of the night. “You know, there aren’t a lot of Guardian churches left these days. We’ve lost some to Nexis, and some to the politics of the post-modern era. Soon we’ll be living in a post-Christian age, at least that’s what my dad says.”

  “How do you know this is a Guardian sanctuary?” Tony paced the length of the library, back and forth. “What if this is a trap? I don’t like it.”

  A bubble of anger gurgled in my stomach. I pushed back my chair. “Now wait a minute. I didn’t ask to come here. I heard we were going to learn something about Nexis, not some weird saint. I just noticed that the crossbars in the stained glass window and the Guardian symbol are similar. I didn’t say I knew for sure.”

  He combed pale fingers through his dark hair, but his gaze slanted above me. “Just because a church was built with a Guardian symbol doesn’t mean that they’re still affiliated. For all we know they could’ve defected to Nexis fifty years ago. Besides, I wasn’t talking to you, sis.” He smiled at me, but his pacing resumed.

  “You meant our fearless leader.” I swiveled around the back of my chair. Bryan’s hands still clutched the spindles, and suddenly we were eye to eye. One staring contest I wasn’t going to lose, not even to those gorgeous blue eyes. “You’ve had a plan all along, haven’t you?”

  He inched his face forward, those eyes zeroing in on my mouth.

  I squinted at him and pursed my lips.

  He backed up slowly. “I want to stay ahead of Nexis, get a leg up for once. I wanted to see if this church was still a Guardian sanctuary, and I knew they had some great resources in this library. It could be a start to finding your brother. But I also wanted you to know more about St. Lucia. I did promise I’d tell you about her.”

  “Yeah, I got that much.” I bit my lip, anything to stop my thoughts from escaping unchecked, but they overflowed. “So you think Will and Nexis want to gouge out my eyes? How would that help them?” My stomach roiled at the idea of it.

  “If you were the Seer and you didn’t have your eyes, then you couldn’t help us.” Lenny’s calm tone put a chink in my anger, just a teeny one. “But you couldn’t help Nexis either, so it’s highly unlikely. Guardian legend says that St. Lucia wouldn’t marry because her betrothed was a prominent Nexis member. He only wanted her because she was the Seer. When she refused to marry him, he turned her over to Diocletian’s men with strict instructions to remove her eyes. They tried three times before they succeeded.”

  Tony stopped pacing. He plopped down on the tabletop and crossed his legs Indian-style, pulling a book onto his lap. “They’ll do anything to have the Seer on their side. They’ve been trying for centuries.”

  “Well, I’m not the Seer, so we can all just go home now. Nexis can forget about me.” Tears pooled in my eyes. Even I didn’t believe me any more.

  Bryan’s hand covered mine. “What if you’re the predecessor to the Seer? You’re next in line, but w
e won’t know till you’re eighteen.”

  “What happens then, my visions get worse? Will I see things all the time?” I clamped my hand over my mouth, too late. The words had already escaped my lips.

  Bryan’s jaw dropped, so did Tony’s and Lenny’s. They all stared at me like I was crazy. Maybe I was.

  Then Bryan’s mouth slowly curved up, almost a smile. “I knew it. You saw something at the Hard Rock and at the Nexis initiation. Am I right?”

  I looked up at him and a tear trickled down my cheek. Heat seared my neck, singing my cheeks, but I couldn’t look away.

  His eyes sparkled, like they were lit up from the inside.

  “How did you—”

  Suddenly the door burst open. A strange man loomed in the doorway, almost identical to Father Patrick, minus a few pounds and a few gray hairs. His glare locked on me. “It’s you. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew. You’re the next Seer, and you’ll bear the same mark.”

  Chapter 21

  Frozen, I stared at the strange man. He looked just like Felicia’s dad. The guys yelled at him, but Felicia’s dad ignored them. He lunged toward the guys, knocking each one of them to the ground in a series of swift kicks and punches.

  My heart thudded against my ribs as I wriggled in my chair,but there was nowhere to go. I was pinned to the chair, surrounded by three guys writing on the floor in pain.

  A small wrought-iron instrument gleamed in the crazy guy’s right hand. In two seconds flat, he darted across the room—straight for the candelabra. He plunged the metal rod into the flames until it glowed, a strange symbol reddening across the iron—a triangle with a swirling eye in the middle.

  Then he lunged toward me.

  My breath caught in my throat and I reared back.

  With wild eyes, he grabbed my wrist in a death grip and forced it close to the red-hot branding iron. Even inches from my flesh, the glowing symbol still scorched my skin.

  “Yeow!” The pain was stinging, and I’d do anything I could to make it stop. Thrashing like a wild woman, I kicked at his shin, dug my nails into his arm, and finally wrestled free from his bruising grip.

  Strong hands pushed me out of my chair, onto the carpet. I came face to face with Tony as he half-shoved, half-rolled me under the table. Chair legs dug into the growing rug burn on my shoulder. Then the chair flew back. A loud crash echoed on the other side of the room as something thudded to the floor.

  Tony peered between the table legs. “Poor Lenny.”

  I bumped my head on the table frame as I scanned the lower half of the room. Someone lay crumpled in the corner—poor Lenny indeed. His chest rose and fell, still breathing. In the dark, I made out the shapes of two sets of legs, one pair clothed in black, the other jean-clad.

  In an instant a flash of denim flew up, disappearing as something slammed onto the table above us. A horrible squealing sound raked across the wood. I could only see the silhouette of black trousers now. Bryan was all alone up there.

  I tugged on Tony’s shirt. “Go help him. I can take care of myself.”

  He nodded and thrust an oblong object at me. “Just in case.” Then he slid out from our hiding spot.

  I could barely make it out in the shadows—his trusty pocketknife. What good would that do? I flipped out the knife blade, just in case.

  Another chair clanged across the room, then something whacked the tabletop above me. Ragged gasps sliced my eardrums.

  I couldn’t just sit here and let these guys take a beating for me, not when I could do something to help. In the suitcase-sized space, I contorted into a back bend, hugging the bottom of the tabletop. I inched forward until I was peering over the edge.

  Bryan lay sprawled out on the table, his lungs panting for air. Across the room Tony ripped books off the shelves, flinging them at Felicia’s dad one by one. He chased Tony around the room.

  I reached for Bryan’s collar and dragged him off the table. My shoulder burned with his weight, but I couldn’t stop now. When his feet hit the floor, I tugged him into my hideaway.

  “What should we do now, run or fight?” I brandished my pocketknife in the air.

  Bryan almost smiled at my antics, but it turned into a wince. “If only that were larger. We have to get you out of here.” He dug out his phone and dialed 911.

  “I assume you have a plan.” I barely had to whisper with his face so close to mine.

  Cuts scabbed up over his eyebrow, his was nose bloody, and a dark bruise swelled under his eye. My fingers brushed across his temple, combing into his hair. I felt the beginnings of a bump under his scalp. He winced again.

  “I do now.” His eyes widened at my touch. Slowly, he slid something out from under his arm. The Guardian book I’d been reading. “Just stay behind me.”

  I crawled out into the open, crouching behind him. He ripped out a page from the book. The loud paper-slash perked the crazed man’s ears. He dropped Tony’s shirt and turned toward us, his face ashen.

  Bryan crumpled up the page and threw it at the candelabra. In seconds, the paper burst into flames, licking the velvet curtains. He caught Tony’s eye, nodding at Lenny. Then he wrapped his jacket around his right hand and darted across the room.

  Hoisting up a candle, he chucked it at Felicia’s dad.

  Tony zipped to the other side of the room as the man’s black pants caught fire. He screeched like the hounds of hell were after him. The ghoulish sound ripped through the air, even as tongues of fire scorched the room.

  Bryan dove through the smoke, shoving me forward, and we ran out of the room. Tony lugged Lenny into the hall and dumped him at my feet. Then they both doubled back to barricade the door.

  I bent down to examine Lenny, who lay stiff as death. I glanced up for help, any kind of help. Jesus, please get us out of here alive. Only framed pictures of the parish priests stared back at me, one drawing my attention. The photo labeled Father Patrick was of an older man, but he was bald, no gray head of hair. So who was the “Father Patrick” we’d just met?

  Lenny’s chest hadn’t moved a millimeter in minutes now. My heart stopped. Was he still breathing? I had to find out. I slapped his face, and a moan escaped his lips. I almost jumped for joy.

  “Thank God,” I breathed, then an idea seized me. I flipped down the blade, calling out to Bryan and Tony. “Catch.”

  Tony caught the pocketknife with one hand. “What am I going to do with this?”

  I threw up my hands. “I don’t know. Shove it in the door jamb or something.”

  He mumbled things at Bryan, but I didn’t have time for that.

  I slunk to me knees next to Lenny. “You okay, buddy? You need to get up. We have to get out of here.”

  “What happened?” He rubbed the goose egg on his forehead. “Are you okay?”

  How could he think of me first at a time like this? I smiled and helped him up. “I’m fine. Now let’s get you out of here.”

  Faint sirens blared in the distance as I limped with Lenny across the tiles.

  “Okay, we’re coming.” Bryan yelled down the hall. “Get ready to run.”

  I pinched Lenny’s cheek. “You ready?”

  “Sure.” His eyes glazed over like he couldn’t focus.

  The guys’ footsteps thundered behind me. I pedaled my feet with Lenny under my arm, but his weight was like an anvil on my already worn-out shoulders. Tony and Bryan rushed to my side, snatching Lenny’s arms.

  “Start running,” Bryan screamed at me, his eyes wild. “The cops can’t find you here.”

  I opened my mouth to ask questions. I’d never seen his eyes like that—full of fear, even pleading. Desperate.

  With a quick nod, I raced down the hall and out the front door. I almost tripped over Laura and Brooke on the steps sipping Cokes.

  “We have to get out of here.” I shot them the wild-Bryan eyes. One look at my face and they dropped their Cokes on the sidewalk.

  We took off down the street, sprinting in the opposite direction of the sirens, pa
st dark doorways and storefronts until we hit the end of 104th Street. My lungs burned as if I were still back there, in the fire. But I had to keep going.

  Then we rounded the corner and ducked into the First Avenue Deli.

  “What happened back there?” Brooke panted and pressed her face to the window. “Are the guys okay?”

  “I don’t know. He just attacked us.” I gulped and heaved at her side. “Felicia’s dad just showed up, but even worse, I don’t think that priest really was a priest. His picture wasn’t even on the wall.”

  “What?” Brooke gasped. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, something really strange is going on here. Maybe he tipped off Felicia’s dad, or maybe he’s one of the Watchers, too.” I grabbed Brooke’s hand, then Laura’s. “At this point we can only hope God is really on our side.”

  Laura pulled us into a booth and stared out the window. “It may be their only hope.”

  “They have to be okay. They just have to be.” I closed my eyes, water pooling and stinging as I pressed them tighter to keep the tears at bay. I squeezed Laura’s hand, then Brooke’s, saying my own silent prayers. What’s happening out there? Please help those poor guys. Don’t let them get hurt or in trouble because of me. I can’t handle that right now. Keep them safe. Please.

  * * *

  Neon lights burned into my eyeballs. The flashing billboards of Times Square glowed brighter as the night grew later. I could almost feel the New Yorkers’ stares as they wove around us, like they knew we’d almost burned down a church. Like they could see the horror cloaking us.

  Laura stopped on the corner and turned to me. “Is this really a good idea? We’re so exposed here.”