by Jaci Miller
He leaned casually against the vehicle’s wheel hub watching her, the dark night shrouding him in shadows.
“Let’s see what modern magic can do,” she whispered, leaning over the map.
She pulled a long silver chain from her pocket, a clear crystal hanging from one end attached to an intricate silver filigree clasp. Holding the crystal over the center of the map she recited an incantation under her breath, focusing her energy on the crystal and the map. Slowly, the crystal began to swing, moving back and forth across the map like a pendulum. As the movement intensified the crystal’s swaying began to morph changing the direction of its swing into a circular pattern, its trajectory getting tighter and tighter as she moved it over the map’s surface.
“You are scrying,” he said, as the crystal zeroed in on its target. “For the celestial?”
She nodded, her focus never wavering from the task at hand. Suddenly, the crystal dropped, its weight pulling down hard on the delicate silver chain, landing with a thud on an area to the left of the map.
“Where in this world is she?” He asked, curious as to what her modern magic had revealed.
“Oh, this is not a world map,” she answered, a glint appearing in her eye as she looked at him. “It’s a town map, she is here in Brighton Hill.”
Rafe moved to her side quickly, his eyes dropping down to the map as he scanned the area where the crystal had landed. “Do you know this place?”
She nodded, “Very well.”
Checking the map again to make sure she was reading it correctly she stared at the crystal, astonished at where it had landed. The tip of the crystal was pointing to a spot she herself had circled on this very map a few years ago when she and Stevie had first moved back to Brighton Hill and were looking at properties to purchase—It was Stevie’s house!
Stunned by the crystals revelation, she quickly gathered up the map, determined to get some answers tonight.
Glancing over at Rafe, the beam of the Trax’s headlights highlighting his frame, she surveyed his clothes. His tight black cloth pants were tucked into worn knee-high leather boots. His strong chiseled torso and arms, covered only by a dark sleeveless shirt and a thick leather vest, were covered in tattoos. The head of his sword, strapped to his left side, glinted in the headlights. A thick leather strap snaked up his left arm, its leather wrapping itself around his forearm from wrist to elbow. The crest of the Warlician warrior was attached to the left shoulder of his vest and a small blade was sheathed at his ankle. He looked just like a warrior from a fantasy movie and completely out of place in her world.
“We will need to stop at my house first,” she said, getting back into the Trax and waiting patiently for him to climb back in.
“We need to make you look a little more like you belong here.”
He frowned but nodded tersely in agreement.
A few minutes later she pulled into her townhome, thankful that the neighbor’s homes closest to her residence were both shrouded in darkness. Pulling into her garage she waited until the door closed behind them before climbed out of the Trax. Rafe followed her into the house, surprised when she flipped the light switch and the residence was awash with light.
“It’s called electricity.”
His eyes searched her home, looking for something familiar and comforting in the surroundings. Her modern townhome was nothing like castles, town shops, barracks, or residences of his time and she could feel his apprehension as he took in the unfamiliar surroundings.
She laid her backpack on the kitchen counter and glanced up at the large metal clock that hung on the far wall—ten-fifty. Gabby and Stevie should still be up, but even if they weren’t she needed to find out why the crystal had pointed to her house. She didn’t have time to introduce Rafe to the amenities of this world or ease him into the strangeness of it all, he would just have to trust her.
“We need to find you something to wear,” she said moving to the back bedroom and pulling a large cardboard box from the closet. Rummaging through the contents she pulled out some clothes and handed them to him. “These should fit you.”
His brow furrowed as he inspected the items she had given him.
“You will look more like you belong in the modern world,” she explained, planting a kiss on his cheek and leaving him to change.
She was standing at the kitchen counter, after having changed herself, trying to devise a reasonable explanation as to why she was showing up at Stevie’s so late when Rafe walked into the room. Her breath caught in her throat. The clothes she had given him were Masons—her ex, remnants left behind after their failed romance, but he certainly had not looked as good in them.
The black Henley shirt stretched over Rafe’s muscular torso perfectly. He had pushed the sleeves up so that his tattoos were visible giving the casual look an edgy feel. The faded jeans hung from his hips, the denim curving seductively over his butt and then falling straight down to his black combat boots. He had tied the boot knife and sheath to his belt, but his sword was nowhere to be seen. Her eyes traveled back up to his handsome face, his long wavy hair tousled, making his overall appearance even sexier and more appealing.
His green eyes penetrated her. “You approve,” he asked, a small smirk played on his lips.
She raised her eyebrow as a familiar surge of desire ran through her body. She knew he could feel the effect he had on her both emotionally and physically so the question he posed was in fact rhetorical.
“Let’s go,” her raspy voice choked out as she glanced at her watch.
Pulling her eyes away from his intense gaze she headed toward the front door feeling a slight sting of satisfaction as she passed through his energy. She reached into the hall closet and removed a slightly worn army-green cargo jacket, handing it to him. “Immortal or not, you need to look like you belong here, and it’s cold out.”
He shrugged. Taking the jacket from her he put it on, nonchalantly pulling the collar up so the front tips peeked out through the waves of his shoulder-length hair. Desire swept through her once again as she looked at this beautiful immortal warrior hidden under Gap, Levi, and Abercrombie. How was she going to explain him to her parents and friends?
Chapter 37
It was almost ten-thirty when Gabby said goodnight to Stevie and headed toward her bedroom, dragging her tired aching body up the hallway. She had not been feeling well for a few days and she longed for a peaceful night’s sleep. The strange illness had begun a few hours after Dane had left town for her photo shoot in the Catskills and she had been steadily declining since. At first, she thought it was just a headache, but then her body started to ache, her muscles became weak and sore and she was both physically and mentally drained. She had lost most of her appetite and she was constantly distracted.
Dragging herself into the bathroom, she checked her temperature again surprised that it was still registering as normal. The flu would be the only explanation, or a cold maybe but without a fever, congestion, or nausea, those illnesses didn’t seem plausible. She leaned against the vanity to steady the spinning room—the dizziness was new and not welcomed.
Putting the thermometer back in the drawer she took out her toothbrush, looking at herself in the mirror. Her pale skin looked deathly under the harsh glow of the vanity lights and it had a purple tint to its undertone. Dark circles underlined her eyes, and her lips were dry and cracked, adding to the unappealing face that stared back at her.
Lack of sleep was certainly not helping matters either, but the dreams had become relentless the last couple of nights. Each morning she would wake exhausted, an onslaught of images and memories filling her head. She had written down most of what she remembered, but her exhaustion was interrupting her memory and she was having a difficult time with her recall.
Her mind was tired and overloaded with images, words, memories, none of which she recognized as her own.
If it was her past trying to surface, she was not sure she wanted it back.
She could hear Stevie moving around in the next room.
Crawling into bed, she curled up tightly under the cozy blankets, a shiver sending a chill across her skin. She heard the bedroom door squeak as it was pushed gently open, Tyson’s head appearing gingerly around the corner. It was odd to see Tyson in her room at night as he always stayed with Diego and Stevie when they looked after him, only coming into her room in the morning.
“Well hi there Ty,” she whispered, a yawn muffling her words. “Are you going to sleep with me tonight?”
He stood in the doorway, his big brown eyes staring.
“Come on,” she said, patting the bed beside her. He lumbered in, climbing awkwardly onto the bed and curling up beside her, his head resting on her stomach, one paw slung over her leg.
Turning out the bedside lamp she closed her eyes and listened to Tyson’s breathing, the rhythmic sound lulling her to sleep, as the fatigue that had haunted her for the past few days overwhelmed her.
The clock in the living room struck eleven-thirty. The metrical tick tock echoing through the dark house. The moon hung high in the night sky a silver beacon blazing against a pitch-black backdrop. Its beams sent a shimmering radiance cascading down over the rooftop, an eerie stillness falling over the house as the moonlight seeped through the window, a golden hue igniting Gabby’s room in a ghostly glow.
Tyson whined, as she tossed and turned, her lips moving as she mumbled inaudible words. He watched her cautiously, his ears pressed tightly against his head, his body shaking as her sleep continued to be disrupted. Suddenly, she sat upright, her abrupt movement startling Tyson who darted to the corner and cowered. Bursting into tears she jumped from the bed and ran from the room, the moonlight ebbing in response.
The knocking became more frantic as Stevie struggled to wake from her deep sleep. At first, she thought she was still dreaming but as the knocking intensified she realized that the pounding was coming from her bedroom door.
“Stevie?” A hoarse voice whispered from the other side.
Recognizing Gabby’s voice immediately, she fought to shake off the remaining remnants of sleep. Wiping her eyes, she looked at the bedside clock. The glow of the full moon seeping through the curtains illuminated the face—it was almost midnight.
“Stevie, are you awake?”
There was a hint of panic just underneath the breathy way she said her name, and Stevie knew something was wrong.
“Come in, Gabby,” she croaked sitting up in bed and reaching for the sweatshirt she had laid on the chair earlier. There was a slight chill in the air and she shivered as she reached to turn on the light.
The house was unusually quiet, a deafening silence, snuffing out the normal night sounds. Suddenly she felt extremely uneasy, a feeling that was reinforced as an agitated and tearful Gabby walked tentatively through the door, a very worried bullmastiff on her heels.
Her skin was extremely pale, all color had disappeared from her cheeks and the dark circles surrounding her teary blue eyes made her look hollow. The room seemed to get cooler as she entered, and Stevie shivered again, her skin exploding with goosebumps.
“Gabby, you look terrible, are you ok?” She asked, noting her disheveled appearance and the strange look that cast a shadow across her features.
She stood in the middle of Stevie’s room, tears slowly spilling down her face, her hands shaking as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Getting out of bed, she walked quickly over to her friend, taking her hands in her own and searching deep into her scared eyes. “Gabby what is it? What has gotten you so upset?”
“I had another dream Stevie, but it was different this time. It was so real, and I knew things, things that make no sense to me now that I am awake but were so familiar in the dream. I think I’m going crazy.”
There was a fear in her eyes that Stevie had never seen before.
“Calm down and tell me about it,” she said guiding her friend over to the bed, urging her to sit on the edge.
“There was a light,” Gabby said softly, taking a deep breath. “It was so bright, it blocked out everything else around it. I felt calm, relaxed, and safe in its presence, the warmth of it was soothing. It just blazed there right in front of me and then there was a voice, coming from the light, speaking a strange language, one that I somehow understood. It told me that I must go, that I am needed elsewhere, that I am part of a larger destiny.”
Her hands began to shake as Stevie held them tightly in her own. “It’s ok.”
Tears welled up in her eyes again. She took a deep breath, calming herself, giving Stevie, an apprehensive look before continuing.
“The light started to get smaller like it was moving away from me but then I realized it was not the light moving it was me! I was falling, falling from a very high place. I could hear the wind as it rushed past my ears, feel its caressing touch as I fell backward through the dark. I reached out my arms, shifting my weight so that I could turn myself around. I was now facing my descent, and I saw the clouds and stars below me in the night sky, getting larger as I hurtled toward them.”
She hesitated for a minute trying to slow her breathing, panic rising inside. She locked eyes with Stevie, the contact providing her with courage.
“I wasn’t scared Stevie, I was falling through the night sky and I felt comfortable like I had done it a million times before. Minutes passed and then suddenly, as the clouds dispersed, I could see the ground below coming up quickly toward me. It was a heavily wooded area and a soft blanket of fresh snow lay on the ground making it more visible in the dark. As I neared the ground, I arched my back and pulled up my shoulders readying myself to slow my descent, but they didn’t come out, I tried harder to push them from my back but—they were no longer there.”
Her grip tightened around Stevie’s hands as those words came out of her mouth, tears spilling down her cheeks as she relived every moment of her dream.
“What was not there?” Stevie asked quickly, confusion and panic now visible in her own voice as she could feel the fear penetrating from her friend’s pores.
Gabby’s eyes grew wide, her demeanor shifting. She sat up straight pushing her chin out and looking at Stevie directly in the eyes.
“My wings,” she uttered.
The room collapsed into a deathly quiet as her words echoed off the stagnant air that seemed to have quickly filled the area. Stevie could feel a shift in the temperature as the air in the room suddenly plummeted. She watched in awe as small white puffs of air escaped from Gabby’s mouth. She sensed the surrounding energy changing as it morphed into something stronger and more confident.
Gabby seemed to slip into her own world, oblivious to her presence, vacant eyes staring across the room as she whispered to herself. “It is real.”
Stevie heard the whispered words but was unable to respond, as she watched the surreal scene unfolding before her, her mind not fully grasping the reality. She realized she was holding her breath but dare not move, not even to inhale. From the corner of her eye, she could see Tyson and Diego sitting like statues across the room, both sets of eyes fixed on Gabby.
She continued to stare at her friend as a golden light began seeping from her skin surrounding her in a strange ethereal glow. She could not decipher the look that lingered on Gabby’s face—relief, confusion, rapture—but there was a strange peacefulness that seemed to embrace her.
She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and involuntarily looked that way, the reflex movement allowing her to breathe once again. There standing in her bedroom door was Dane, her eyes fixed on Gabby, her mouth set in a grim line. Behind her, stood a man that she did not recognize, his long dark hair framed his handsome face; his light green eyes penetrated the room as they moved quickly from Stevie to Gab
by. She could see the markings of tattoos peeking out from his shirt collar and cuffs and he wore a strange pendant tied to a leather string around his neck.
Stunned by their sudden late-night appearance in her bedroom but still unable to utter a word she continued to gape in disbelief, gazing back at Gabby who still sat calmly in a glowing golden aura at the end of her bed.
Unexpectedly, Dane’s calm voice broke the unnerving stillness that had saturated the room.
“Gabby?” She said, watching closely as the golden aura surrounding her friend pulsed in response.
Gabby turned to face the voice that had spoken her name, smiling as she saw who it was.
“You’re back,” she said softly, warmth generating in her steely gaze. Her once bright blue eyes were now a soft liquid gold, flecks of silver and lavender sparkled in the irises reminding Dane of the multitude of galaxies she had observed in Dywen’s night sky. She could feel Rafe close behind her, his composed energy pulsating around him, calming her nerves. She could also sense his awe, a genuine respect for the woman sitting in a golden aura on Stevie’s bed, her liquid eyes watching them intently—for he too knew who she was.
“I believe you were looking for me,” Gabby said, a knowing gaze passing between them.
“I was.” Smiling in agreement as the familiar surge of ancient magic ignited inside her, its curiosity peaked by Gabby’s presence. Her disbelief overwhelmed her as her mind struggled to grasp the reality of those two words, and how they related to her friend. The prophecy, the history of the realms, the words that Seri had written, all suddenly collided with one simple fact. The celestial, the one that fell to earth, the one she was tasked to find, had in fact been in her life all along—Gabriella Winters was one of the Arcanists.
