My shock turned into sheer panic. The way he talked was far too selfless. He seemed willing to take chances, and it seemed he didn’t care how much he would get hurt in his effort.
Another wave of shame rolled over me without warning. Gregory was my best friend after all, and I was playing games with him for my own benefit, making him suffer and hurt. I knew this was the moment I had feared, the moment when I would deeply regret my decision to come here tonight. I was disgusted at myself.
“What’s wrong?” he asked while between a mouthful of meat and a sip of water. Answering this question was harder than I had thought. I couldn’t tell what exactly was wrong, except for everything.
“Could you pour me some water, please?” I held out my glass for him and he refilled it studying my face. “Thanks.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
I shrugged at him.
“I’m pretty sure lack of liquid’s not the problem.” His tone was even more serious than his face, though the words resembled a bad joke.
I shook my head.
“What is it, then?” he urged, strain showing on his face. I stayed silent not trusting myself to not hurt him if I spoke any of my thoughts.
“I want to know.”
Nothing still.
“Claire,” he sighed. “Do you really think I would have agreed to go on this date if I had thought this was an unsolvable problem?” He looked down. “That you love him, I mean. I have time…”
I didn’t believe my ears. How could a person be so thick? “Gregory Milton-Davis, what do you think you’re doing?” My sudden anger startled him. “You shouldn’t get yourself any deeper into this. Don’t pretend like you don’t understand that however hard I try I can’t stop loving him.”
Gregory’s face went blank. “No. You don’t get yourself deeper into this. You’ve known for months that I really like you, and now you need to forget the other weirdo—”
“He’s no weirdo!” I interrupted.
“Whatever. You want to forget him for a moment, and you go out with me. I know perfectly well you’re not here tonight because you feel for me the way I feel for you but—”
“Honestly, Greg! I don’t want to hear it.”
“Now let me talk!” People were starting to stare at us, some with irritation, some with interest. “I know you don’t feel for me that way—yet. But when you need me I’m there, and when I get a chance to undermine your feelings for him—” he spat the word, gesturing wildly with his hands and knocking over his glass of water, “I’ll act and try to make you see that there are men who want you and love you without playing with your heart the way he did.”
It was only a second until a fair haired waiter in his forties hurried over to us and tried to mop up the water with a cloth. An ash blond woman in a black dress shifted and lowered her gaze as I caught her staring over her shoulder. Her hair was wound up in an artful hair-do exposing her neck and the heavy silver necklace that hung around it.
I smiled at the man with the cloth apologetically and wondered where I knew him from. But before I could think about it, Gregory cleared his throat loudly to claim my attention.
I took a deep breath and turned back to him. He was still fuming, opposite me, with piercing eyes and his lips pressed together in a thin line, showing his distress plainly in every feature of his face.
“I’m sorry, Greg.” I didn’t know where to start with my apologies. “I didn’t mean to—” No way he would use my weakness to make me change my mind about my non-existent feelings for him. “I just wanted to—” Whatever my intentions had been, his weren’t any better. “Let’s just go. Alright?”
Greg waved for the waiter, who was standing in a corner, most likely having an inner debate whether or not to come over and inform us that the volume of our voices was a little too high for a classy place like that. He jumped at Gregory’s sign and hurried over like a retriever dog.
“The bill, please.”
The waiter bustled back to the counter and returned a few moments later with a deep blue leather folder. Without looking at me, he handed it to Gregory who pulled out his wallet and paid.
“Thanks!” he beckoned the waiter to leave. He returned with my jacket and helped me into it.
“Good evening, Mister Milton-Davis,” the waiter said politely as he held the door for us.
I sucked in the icy cold night air and it almost froze my lungs as it rushed through them.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I told Gregory remorseful. “It was unfair of me, making you think…”
“No—It’s fine.”
We walked to the car in silence.
He held the door for me. “Get in.” I did as he told me and got into his car. He closed the door behind me, gentleman that he had been brought up to be—no matter how much I annoyed him. The atmosphere inside tensed immediately as he got in on the driver’s side.
I didn’t dare speak for a while. We had already made it to my street when I opened my mouth again.
“Don’t think badly of me.” I asked him.
He snorted. “I don’t. I already told you earlier this evening what I think and feel.”
But I did—think badly of myself.
* * *
Gregory pulled the car into the driveway in front of my home and cut the engine. He got out of the seat and out of the car simultaneously with me. I hurried around the vehicle to hug him quickly. It should have been a demonstration of my willingness to forget the evening.
Gregory didn’t respond the way I expected. Instead of squeezing me for a moment, Gregory pulled me tight and tighter. He kissed my neck first, then pulled away catching my face with his hands. He held me in place and forced his lips onto mine.
I grabbed his wrists with my hands and pulled myself out of his grasp.
“Are you insane?” I nearly screamed at him. “I—do—love—Adam! Have I made myself clear? See you on Monday. Good night.”
Without looking at him again I turned on my heels and stormed away towards the door.
I heard the door of the car slam and then the engine roar to life, tires squealing on the cold street and then the sound of the car speeding away. Inhaling deeply I searched my handbag for my keys. The street lights threw a bluish light onto the street and the freezing mist swirled in the beams of light like sprayed waves frozen in midair.
“How beautiful she is.” Suddenly a male voice spoke behind me. My heart froze and I hurried to find the keys, but my fingers trembled and couldn’t get hold of them. I didn’t want to turn around. All I wanted was to find the damn keys, unlock the door, rush through it into the safety of the house and lock the solid door behind me.
“Alabaster was right. She indeed carries his mark.” A second voice answered the fist one’s statement. The second one was female. It was cold as ice and deadly.
My fingers touched cold metal and clutched the keys securely to pull them from my handbag. My right hand was shaking like mad when I held the key to the lock and missed it over and over again.
“It’s always more fun when they try to run. Look at her shaking.” The first voice—a dry and low male one—spoke again. It sounded closer than before, but still far enough that I would have a chance to make it into the house. Small drops of sweat appeared on my neck and forehead.
“Mhhh—I love the taste of fear.” The whisper came from directly behind my ear. In shock, I turned around reflexively and looked into a pair of black eyes.
“Trying to get away, are we?” the black eyed man whispered in a heavy Italian accent. It was way too playful to match his face and made him more eerie than he already was.
Unable to say a word I put my hand in my pocket and pulled out the cellphone. Hoping I would have a chance, I dialed nine-one-one.
“Trying to call the police, little girl?” he said, still in a whisper, then he turned around and laughed at the dark shadows beyond the street light’s reach.
I held the cell to my ear quickly, hoping that someone
would answer.
“Hey Jules—guess what?” He still talked into the shadows. “She thinks the police can help her.” And he laughed again, but this time a chilly female chuckle added to the sound. I still had my cellphone pressed against my ear, holding the keys in the other hand. Cold shudders ran down my spine at the noise.
And then I almost stumbled into the door behind me when in a flash an olive skinned woman appeared right before me. Her brown hair was long and sleek and shimmered almost purple in the street lamp light. But more impressive and stunning were her light blue, almost white seeming eyes, which held my gaze unblinkingly.
“A little late to be outside alone,” she said in her deadly icy voice.
All my senses told me to scream and run, but I knew the odds of escaping weren’t too good. I was spellbound anyway. Even if the emergency number had answered my call, even if I had managed to put the key into the hole—I was simply frozen in place by the sudden appearance of them.
“No wonder Alabaster wants her,” a third voice spoke from the shadows.
I shuddered at the sound of it. The silhouette of a tall man appeared in the low light of the nearest street light. The shape was strangely familiar. He wore an eye-catching black frock coat and I recoginzed the leather appliqués on the collar and sleeves as he glided towards me in dangerously quiet movements.
His silver-gray hair fell into his face and hid his gray eyes as he looked at me from the side for a minute before turning to the woman with a satisfied expression on his face.“I think she’ll do.”
My heart started to race in my tight chest, otherwise my body was immobilized. My mouth was too dry to make a sound and my feet were glued to the spot. I wondered what they were talking about and feared knowing too much at the same moment.
The black-eyed man was standing next to the silver-gray haired, playing with a silver chain around his neck. It had the same chunky amulet dangling from it as the silver-haired had on his necklace. They were watching my every movement—basically, my hands sinking down and my fingers losing their grip on my phone and keys. They hit the ground noisily and I silently wondered how likely it would be that one of our neighbours would go out on a Friday evening and see I needed help.
The noise woke me from my lethargy.
“Maybe we should do it right here,” the black-eyed man suggested in his heavy accent.
He earned himself a disapproving glare from the silver-gray haired. “Alabaster needs her, Blackbird,” he hissed at him with obvious dislike in his tone.
“What are you talking about?” My voice sounded as dry as my mouth felt. It was not more than a croak, but I had the attention of all three of them in an instant.
“Look—she has finally done it,” the black-eyed man mocked. “She has unfrozen.”
“What do you want from me?” I was suddenly very clear that they were discussing the options for my near future and I was pretty sure a far future wouldn’t exist for me anymore when they had decided.
“From you?” the black-eyed whispered in his dark voice. “She wants to know what we want from her.” I could see all of his face now—straight and handsome features with heavy brows and full lips, pale skin with a shock of black hair atop his head. All three of them had the same amulets hanging around their necks on silver chains.
“You just have something we need,” the black-eyed continued.
“I have no money.” I shot automatically.
“We don’t want money,” the woman, Jules, shot at me, laughing in a high-pitched voice. “Stupid girl! What we want is a bit more subtle.
I threw her a defensive look. “I don’t have anything.”
“How do you explain you carry his mark around with you then?” the silver-haired prompted and took a step closer. “I can literally smell it.”
“Whose what?” I asked, utterly confused and overwhelmed by the growing fear that paralyzed my body.
“How is your boyfriend?” the woman asked coldly.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I answered reflexively, and my heart throbbed as I realized the words I had just spoken were true. I didn’t have him anymore.
“Step back from her!” A golden voice shimmered through the frozen mist in the air. My head—like the others’—snapped up reflexively to face the direction the voice had come from, but I couldn’t make out its source.
I forced my eyes to pierce through the darkness and the rising fog until I saw the outline of a tall athletic figure coming closer. I recognised the shape. The way he walked towards us—hesitant but with strong and elegant strides—I wondered why he was here. He looked different without the suit and much much younger in the bluish darkness, but I was pretty sure that this man was the one from the library, the one in the tailored suit—now in jeans and a sweater—who had needed directions for the ATM. His blond hair looked even fairer than in daylight as he planted himself at the end of the stairs.
The two other men and the woman built a row in front of me, shielding me from his view.
The blonde man’s voice grew louder and suddenly was very cold. “I said—step—back.”
“Or what?” the women taunted in her deadly voice.
“You’ll have to take me on first.” I could almost taste the anger that carried along with the controlled monotone of his words.
The woman laughed icily for a second. Then she was at his side in a heartbeat, her hands at his throat. “I counted on you to say that,” she whispered so low I could hardly hear it.
I couldn’t believe how brave the man was to stand up to them—I wasn’t, I could barely move, frozen with fright. I searched for some inner resources of strength and drew them up to find the courage to speak.
“Leave him alone!” I was surprised how clear my voice carried through the frozen air. “It’s me you want—not him.” I directed my words at the woman whose fingers clawed at the blond’s skin.
I noticed some alien beauty radiating from him, like it was touchable. He shook his head an inch slowly, as to tell me to shut up, and his eyes gleamed a little. It was just noticeable when I looked very carefully, but I was sure I saw a hint of gold glowing under his lashes as he averted his gaze from the scene.
What was he playing at? I knew this glow. I knew what it meant—even though I had seen only one of them so far. If my eyes hadn’t betrayed me, I was just experiencing the presence of another angel.
The woman looked at me for only a few seconds, probing my seriousness, as did the two men. But these few seconds sufficed for him to explode into a white blur, smashing the distracted brunette aside.
She flew a few yards into the air and touched the ground next to the street lamp, feet down, body upright. How did she do that?
The winged man leapt into the air with outstretched arms and swirled around at inhuman speed. The two dark men in front of me shifted from foot to foot for a moment. The next second one of them was on the ground under the angel, reaching his hands up for him with an angry growl pulling his lips apart. I let myself sink to the ground in the moment of distraction, trying to retrieve my keys and somehow unlock the door. Maybe it wouldn’t keep them away, but it might buy me some time—only a few minutes…
A silvery shine lightened the scene for a second and sidetracked me. SMASH! Something hit the ground behind me. I turned around reflexively and saw a pair of black eyes stare at me once more. This time his hands grabbed my arms and no matter how hard I struggled, I was locked in position without hope of breaking free.
The angel was lying on the ground behind him with slightly twitching limbs. The woman was standing behind him, superiority mirrored in her face and her posture. The second man was close beside her, holding down the pair of wings with both his arms.
If until now I had been doubting the existence of something supernatural, I had lost every reason to not believe. Something very supernatural was going on right in front of me and I was part of it—a weak part, but part, still. Worst of all—I had involved some innocent stranger. He seemed to be an
angel and he was risking his life for me. One thing I was positive about: I hated being responsible for this angel’s misery.
The way the evil dark woman looked down on his body writhing on the ground made me think of a dragon killer, spearing her trophy with sadistic glee. I wanted to run over and help him, but I couldn’t shake off the black-eyed man’s iron grasp; it didn’t matter how hard I struggled.
The last thing I saw was the blond’s head turning towards me. The golden glow had completely vanished, and he was watching me with an apologetic look in his now lackluster eyes.
* * *
My wrists hurt badly. Only the throbbing in my head could match the pain—at least I thought so until I tried to move and a rush of pain ran through my spine and legs. Unable to remember what had happened, I rolled to one side with great effort. My eyes refused to open until the fourth attempt and then shut instantly at the light that stung them. It had to be daytime. I had no idea where I was or what day it was. All I knew was that I’d rather go back to sleep and block out the pain that seemed to reach every nerve of my body.
The soreness of my body kept me from returning to the black velvety sleepiness I had awoken from. I dared a fifth attempt to lift my eyelids. It worked. They eventually stayed open and my pupils adjusted to the bright light.
I rolled to one side, careful not to add more to the already existing pain. Light gray shapes were the first thing I saw; they were right before my eyes. A little farther to the left I made out a pair of jeans that enveloped human legs which belonged to a body that sat next to me on the ground, back leaned against the white wall. I wondered where I was and how I had gotten there. Another foot farther up I managed to see the outline of a human face.
“I know you,” I whispered, unable to make a decent sound.
“About time you woke up,” he said in a low voice. “They knocked you out so hard I was already wondering if you would ever open your eyes again.”
White (The Wings Trilogy Book 1) Page 21
