Lightning Kissed

by Lila Felix

  ***

  I felt the slightest weight shift as she rose from the bed the next morning. The shower signaled that she was up and ready to go. I didn’t think we should head straight to Portugal, but I was sure Colby would disagree.

  Would Pema ever come for her books? Collin had to be feeding her information.

  I grabbed a button-down shirt and threw on the closest jeans I could find. As long as we were in Belgium, I might as well take advantage of it.

  The streets were bustling with people, most of them families, dressed up and headed—somewhere. Just as the thought of what day it was crept up, one of the voices joined a gonging bell from a nearby church. This time it felt far away and called to me from the direction of the hotel room. I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and turned to match the voice with something—a face, a person—anything. Patrons jostled me as they passed. I’d become a rock in their flowing stream, preventing them from flowing the way they once had.

  Yet, nothing in my line of sight matched the voice that called for me to help. Help—all it said was help.

  The only thing that brought me out of my complete obsession with the disembodied voice was the smell of fresh croissants and baking loaves. The smell of baking bread could wake people from comas, I was sure of it. I’d once heard Rebekah say that at a family brunch.

  “Do you always make everyone else divert their paths around you?” A familiar female made me chuckle.

  “Actually, most of the time, I divert my path so that others don’t have to sway.”

  “So why the sudden change?”

  Turning around, my eyes denied the voice and body connection. It was Pema. But out of her rusty robes and pilgrim dress, she was shocking. Today, in jeans and a red sweater, she almost mixed into the masses.

  “I heard something. It made me stop and turn.”

  Pema grabbed my elbow and stepped in close. She scrunched her nose in an almost snarl as her eyes zeroed in on mine.

  “What did you hear?” A filament of recognition buzzed in my consciousness. It seemed to warn me against showing all of my cards too soon.

  “Someone shouting,” I answered without actually revealing any information.

  “Who was shouting?” She bobbed her head around mine, looking for evidence of my accusation.

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t find them.”

  She examined me further. The sunlight glinted off the top of the stubby wires on her head as she cocked it back and forth searching for something just out of reach. I blinked once, my tired eyes unable to match her stare any longer. Another gong of a church bell made her cringe. Her back straightened, relieving me of her invasion into my personal space.

  “I’m assuming you were going for breakfast—though that mate of yours looks as if she never eats.”

  “You should talk.”

  Pema was rail thin—those robes actually did her a favor in helping her look less gaunt.

  “I eat. Not all of us are as blessed as you are. We can’t all make deliveries for the big software companies and have successful investments.” She sneered at me as we again took pace with the people on the sidewalk.

  That last remark was a direct jab at me—specifically, my parents.

  “I see the monks taught you humility.” I jabbed back.

  “Touché.” She didn’t look impressed.

  A clap of her hands changed her demeanor as we found a bakery and went inside to order. She studied me, never offering to help or lend a hand, as I placed our order and gathered it all up.

  Not very monk-like.

  About halfway back to the hotel, I deduced that Pema was coming all the way back with me. She was probably going to take all the books before I could figure out why some of them caused the voices to come back and some quieted them.

  When we got into the elevator, she pressed the button to our floor before I told her what floor we were on.

  I felt like a fish in an aquarium. No matter how many rocks I hid under or treasure chests’ bubbles camouflaged me, I could be seen from all angles—anyone who wanted to look in could get a gander at the flashing male.

  When we reached the room, I allowed Pema to enter first, saving Colby from blabbing some pertinent information out of turn.

  I noticed Collin was sitting in a chair in the corner without the surprised look on his face that I expected. As much as he came down on Sway—he wasn’t out of my range for suspicion either.

  Everyone froze in place when Colby saw Pema. She cut her eyes down to the space between Pema and me. Following her gaze, I found that Pema’s arm was looped through mine. I hadn’t even noticed she was doing that or how long it had gone on. My mind was constantly in a different place.

  “Look what I found on my way to get your breakfast, Colby. Isn’t it convenient?”

  Colby opened her mouth, but Pema interjected first, “It isn’t convenient at all. Your female stole books that didn’t belong to her. I can’t imagine that she thought that was the honorable road to take.”

  “How strange,” Colby began. Her cheeks had grown red in the few seconds we’d been in the room. Pema didn’t know what was about to hit her. “As I recall, you said we had three days to study. There were no stipulations about location or any other parameters now that I think about it.”

  Pema scoffed, “Well, the most appropriate thing to do would’ve been to leave sacred texts with their owner, regardless of the stipulations. But then again, I’ve heard that appropriateness hasn’t always been your forte. I didn’t see much of it in Tibet other than the usual lack of propriety, until you turned into a thief.”

  I backed up a step out of instinct. It was one thing for me to pick on Colby about her crassness or for her to joke about it, but Pema didn’t even know Colby and yet here she was judging the hell out of my mate.

  “The texts are in perfect shape in the other room. There’s no reason to resort to rudeness on either account.” That was my best effort in diffusing the situation. Colby cocked her eyebrow at me. I knew she’d be pissed for me not taking her side, but it probably was for the best to stay on the good side of the family of the Eidolon—or, I guessed, the former Eidolon.

  “I’ll take them now,” Pema demanded.

  “We still have a day,” Colby reminded her, pretending to check her cuticles. “Unless, you’re intending on going back on your word.”

  Three times Pema opened her mouth to respond, but came out with nothing.

  “Fine. I will stay with you until you are done.”