“Not so formal Rayne. It’s just me so just use ciao.”
“Yeah, sorry.”
Her eyes narrowed staring me down.
“Rayne…” Her tone was serious while having a hint of sass laced within it.
“Mi dispiace.” I apologized.
“Good girl, you’re learning.” She smiled and turned to face me, leaning against the side of the bridge.“So, have you gone through my study guide at all?”
Marco, in the gondola behind her, jumped a little watching her, almost as if he was worried, she’d fall in. Adorable.
“Rayne? The study guides?”
“Um, a little,” I answered, my voice cracking with uncertainty.
“Good, good! Now pop quiz time. How do you ask for the check after a bad date?"
I searched through the many words Juliet had taught me. A bad date? Her scenario had a bit too much experience behind it to be just a random thought from her head.
If it would be me and I had gotten myself to the end of this bad date I would try to be polite and escape to the bathroom. Probably I would get stopped by a mirror and hide, followed by twenty minutes of crying in fear. This would not be the answer she would want. After sitting in silence for a bit I found something that seemed suitable enough for an answer. Basically, I said: “Excuse me, waitress, could I have the check, please? I have a feeling this evening is over.” In my best Italian. My overall score: subpar.
Juliet nodded.
“Good. A bit polite but good. I would have tried something like’
“Mi scusi cameriera, questa imperdonabile sacchetto di carne accanto a me è il più certamente non ne vale la pena. Posso solo avere il mio assegno, così posso pagare e lasciare così non mi morire di noia?" She paused a bit and continued under her breath:
“Due facce Ciuccio.” This almost sounded like she was thinking of someone in particular. I thought and translated what she said:
Excuse me waitress, this unforgivable bag of meat next to me is not worth it. Can I have my check, so I can pay and leave, so I will not die of boredom?
Two-faced Jackass.
I winced. “Ow, harsh. Well, we’ve learned two things. One, I’m too nice. Two, you’ve had some very bad dates.”
Juliet laughed, “You’re one to talk. Have you ever had a date?"
I looked down and sighed. I spent my entire adolescence trying to forget about the past tragedy and catch up over twelve years. That Romance was the last thing on my mind. Even if I had a crush, I ignored it. I doubted that anyone would have wanted the girl who disappeared from school until junior high because she had to remember who her parents were or even what her name was.
‘Why is she so special? I heard she forgot everything she ever knew. She’s weird.’
Juliet frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, you’re fine.” I shook my thoughts back and smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it, Juliet.”
Juliet never asked about the accident. She seemed satisfied with the answers I had given her a few weeks ago. I would have thought that a psychology major would have wanted to pick at the deepest parts of my brain. It was probably killing her inside not to do so, but I was glad she didn’t pry.
She did have a point. I had no right to comment on her love life when I couldn’t even remember if I had ever even wanted one. Just as with childhood dreams, like being famous or getting married to a prince. Any dreams I once had been lost when I lost my memories. I hadn’t wanted anything new until my counselor gave me a small hardback sketchbook and told me to try drawing. I had a habit of drawing on worksheets and even on my hand during sessions.
I filled that sketchbook cover to cover before I saw the therapist again a week later. Things from my home, pets, my toys, my parents. Little sketches, any chance I got I drew.
I remembered once when I drew the outline of my shadow. I couldn’t look in a mirror long enough to draw myself, so I drew the outline of my own shadow on the last page.
That was how I saw myself for a while. One dream I still had was to be able to draw myself someday. Not from a photo no. I wanted to draw myself at that moment someday—to look and get a mental image of me and sketch with no fear.
Whether that would be alone or with a prince at my side, I didn’t know. No one came to mind specifically. He was as much a shadow as I was.
I shrugged. "I don't even remember ever having a crush."
"Well then, it’s time to change that. Come on, let’s go snag you a nice Italian boy. It's a win-win! They don’t grow them like they do here. Your Californian dudes don’t stand a chance!” Hearing Juliet say ‘dude’ was strange. Although, she did explain most of my neighbors in one word. They made all Californians look like surfer bums.
"Wait Jul—"
She grabbed my arm and pulled me from the bridge towards the shops near my apartment. I could hardly protest before we ended up near a church across the canal. People taking pictures looked our way, so I turned away. Juliet tugged my arm with all the force she could muster while keeping her pace.
“Come on, Rayne! I know just the place to get you a date."
"Why does it matter?"
"Because no friend of mine is going to miss out on the Venice wildlife." She smirked as if she was picturing a wild night with me as the star of the next latest hit soap opera. I shuddered. If I had learned anything else about Juliet, it was about her first year of classes. Apparently, wild didn’t even cover half of it.
She slowed down and stopped at a small café down the street. Claustrophobia kicked in between the church wall and the shops. I had seen this café from the bridge every day. I wanted to try it out before, but it had always seemed so busy. I wasn’t wrong at least. People waited to be served huddled in the line. Most of them were chatting in Italian with some English sprinkled through. Soon, the words all muddled together into a fantastical mix. In a way, I kind of liked it. It was fun to see all these people enjoying the city. Just like I wanted to do...
I felt myself turning red as we approached the café. Was Juliet seriously going to try and drag a guy over to me?
I tugged at her shirt sleeve. “I don't think this is a good idea."
“Nonsense. You've got to be more outgoing, Rayne.”
I couldn't object. The words couldn't come to me. I sighed and followed her, watching the crowd around me.
“I guess so."
“Yes!” she insisted. “This is Venice. An adventure by the sea. You’ve got to try to live a little, lady,”
My eyes wandered around to the many good-looking guys in the café. Hell, most of them had real color to them. But none of them would want me. Thin, pale, mousey. That was me in a nutshell. Even though I was from California, I didn’t go out too much. I’m pretty sure Casper the friendly ghost had more color than I did.
A few of the guys looked up from their drinks at me. One or two looked at Juliet, she studied them right back, eyes narrowing and shifting to me, then to each of the guys at the table. She sighed and pulled me away from their table to another by the same shop.
Were these guys not a good match? What were her standards for introducing me to someone?
The guys looking our way seemed to lose interest as Juliet changed her course. At least one guy whistled a bit at her. Juliet, as elegant as she was, hip bumped the table just enough to spill the hot coffee into the lap of said catcaller.
The man stood and glared at her. She put her free hand over her mouth.
“Oh, mi scusi.” She apologized, hinting at a sarcastic tone in her voice, making her intentions clear to me at least.
Proud of herself, she smiled and kept dragging me behind her. We weaved through the line of the shops and found more tables, yielding similar results.
“Juliet, what are you even looking for?”
“Someone who matches you.”
I huffed. “And what does that mean?”
“Patience, R
ayne. Leave it to me.”
We passed the café to the open street. I looked around to try and figure out what Juliet may have meant.
My attention was drawn to one man in an alleyway. He stood slender and poised as he leaned against the wall of the alley. A bit older looking than me, maybe around Juliet’s age. dressed in a loose-fitting suit with a red shirt and a tie which hung loosely around his popped collar. Fashionable, yet almost too relaxed. He watched the crowds every movement intently, almost like a cat stalking a mouse. His gaze stopped on a small group of college students, and then he followed them with quick, silent strides, shadowing their movements. Juliet pulled us closer to that group as the man approached. Though his steps were fast, I noticed every one of them. Maybe it was because we were in his path.
We merged into the group of college students. Juliet greeted one of the girls. I would only assume she was a classmate since they spoke so casually. I could also guess Juliet was asking about her hunt since my name came up in the conversation.
Unbeknownst to the group, the man quickly reached into Juliet’s purse and retrieved something from it. He suddenly stopped and turned away. Realization shot through me. He was a pickpocket! I wrestled myself free from Juliet to confront him.
“Rayne, wait! What are you doing?” Juliet grabbed for me, but she was lost in the bustling crowd as I followed the man into the alley.
At that moment, I froze. I hadn't thought it through. What if this man was dangerous? I'm pretty sure he could overpower me.
My own willpower drained from me as I felt a sudden chill. The man's eyes connected to mine, and I felt fingers brush against my neck. He approached me, both of his hands at his sides.
Wait? These weren’t his fingers on my neck?
I froze as he got closer. He pushed back his shaggy hair to reveal his face. His eyes were striking. His left was a soft brown, whereas his right was a golden yellow.
His serious expression lightened to mischief as he asked softly: “Can you see me miss?” First in Italian, then after studying my face, he said it again in English.
Could I see him? Well, of course, I could. How could I not?
The chill against my neck made me shiver as I slowly nodded. His expression turned serious again. Before I could move, he did a handstand. His foot barely grazed my neck as he begun spinning on his hands. Just as suddenly as the chill came upon me, it vanished. I stumbled back and nearly fell. In a blink of an eye, he was upright again and grabbed my hand. He pulled me up straight to now steady feet.
“There, there. You’ll be safe now.” He whispered, gently patting my hair like I was a child. His Italian was perfect but something about how he spoke seemed strange, foreign in every aspect...
The man kept me close as my attention turned to sounds in the alley behind me. I looked over my shoulder and saw a large dark shadow over a pale brute of a man. The shadow behind the man resembled that of a horrifying mix of a dragon and a toad. The lumbering beast stood as tall as the windows of the building. Its skin was a deep black color with the texture of tar. He rubbed up against a window, and the tar stuck to the glass like half-melted black peanut butter. Sticky yet dripping. Warts of varying sizes dotted its form shifting around as the dragon-toad moved. Its legs stood like a frog, back legs bent ready to jump and front legs spread out slightly in front of it, making the large beast lean close to the ground. Its frog-like head and mouth opened to show a long tongue that was as black as its skin. The tongue dripped leaving puddles of acidic-smelling tar under the beast and the brute’s feet. Steam came from the man’s shoes as he stepped into the tar. It seemed attached to him in some way. His shoes and pant legs holding him within its boundaries. The other man at my side watched, pushing me back to avoid some of the tar that flung off the beasts’ body.
Avoid the tar, good to know.
The shadow seemed to be controlling the pale, brutish man. Its tail floated over the man. The finger-like tip resembled a puppet board as it hovered over the man’s head.
The young man holding me squinted in the direction of the creature and revealed a small mirror in the palm of his hand. My heart fell into my stomach. Was that what he stole from Juliet?
I trembled and tried to turn away from the mirror. It was even worse than the dragon-toad. The dragon-toad couldn’t be real—could it? The man kept most of his attention on the creature but allowed me to curl into his shoulder. His eyes kept shifting between where the creature was and the mirror, almost like he was confirming something.
The monster shook its head and threw a large mound of tar our way. Fear jolted me. The man with me yanked me down and the tar missed us entirely.
There was a large pile of tar behind us. It too began to shift. The shifting soon became a form that blocked out the remaining light in the alleyway.
I saw another man appear from the tar with a gun in his hand. This man was with another shadow; however, this one was slender and tall with a body like a weasel. The second shadow was tall enough to reach a balcony on the second story of the building beside us. Its body was so slender that it didn’t touch the walls as the other ones did. Instead, its full form dripped more tar from its skin covering the alley. The man was thin as well and sickly-looking. Covered entirely in black tar. Every time the shadow moved, the man moved as well, a forced jerky motion. Like a full puppet.
The atmosphere blackened, slowly crushing me with both smog and terror.
Beside the weasel-man, Juliet was running back towards me.
"Rayne! Why did you stop? What's wrong?"
Could she not see the man holding me? Could she not even see the creatures in front of us and behind me? I looked around my protector to see something shiny in the air above him. Almost like glass. It wasn’t solid, like a dome of light, but I could tell it was there.
The man was focused on the toad-like creature, looking up and down from the monster to the mirror in his palm.
“Where is it? It’s all so blurry.” He whispered to himself.
Blurry? Could he not see the monsters either? If he and Juliet couldn’t see them, how could I?
That explained why he didn’t notice the second man until he heard the cocking of the gun. My stranger-protector turned with me in his arms, but he wasn't fast enough. Juliet was in the line of fire.
"Run!” I screamed. “Juliet get out of here, run! Get out of the way! Uarda la ciunca!"
Watch out, you’re going to get hurt! I managed to pull out a phrase that made her stop dead in her tracks.
Her eyes widened. I saw the man shoot at us. I was confused. It went through Juliet as if she wasn't there. The only thing that happened to her was a small ripple through her chest. It was there for a moment, then vanished.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp, burning pain in my shoulder. I grabbed it and saw the blood under my hand, running down my arm. The pain was intense, and I immediately wanted to throw up. I swallowed hard and held my mouth. My face tightened, and I forced my eyes to stay open, focusing exclusively on the smoking barrel of the gun.
Seeing it still pointing at me caused another wave of nausea. I only managed a painful dry heave. Looking around, I couldn’t see or feel the man who had been holding me anymore. For a brief moment, he was there, now he was gone.
The man, the monster, and gun melted away back into a puddle.
My focus was still in the spot where the gun once was. Nothing else existed at that moment until the pain seemed to fade.
I felt nothing but the feeling of numbness taking over my whole left side. I fell limp, thinking I would hit the ground, but something stopped me in mid fall, it felt like I was in the man's arm, had he come back to my side? Was this someone else? There was darkness taking over me. Darkness that was accompanied by pressure all around me, like being at the bottom of a pool. The feeling overcame me, and the world completely vanished from my blurred sight.
TWO
♦
Saved
SOUNDS CAME BACK
TO me first. Mumbles and whispers. My vision returned shortly after that.
Shades of brown and grey clouded my vision. My stomach roiled, so I stayed still for a few moments. I was laying something soft. Had I been out a few seconds—maybe hours? My vision cleared, and I could move my fingertips. Hands: check. My toes moved, and my heel rubbed against a cloth surface. Feet: check. Then I moved my head. My shoulder throbbed, but I managed to move my neck at least, always a good sign. My surroundings came into focus. I rested on some old torn up couch in a small sitting room. I breathed more deeply. The thick smell of dust and mold assaulted my nose.
My vision focused a bit more, and I saw an ornate painting depicting two angels facing away from each other, mirrored. The wings on both merged together making the two identical figures into one continuous outline. The only difference between the two was one angel had dark grey-black wings and the other had pure white feathers with flecks of color in each one like a stained-glass window, on the ceiling above me. There looked to be other historical pieces hanging about the room. The School of Athens, La Belle Jardinière and even a reproduction of the Mona Lisa herself, lined the areas around where I was. There were other pieces I didn’t recognize around me. Paintings with clear structures almost like crystals on pedestals on either side of them and as well as butterflies pinned up above a few of them. Every piece was different, and I had never seen them before, not that I remembered anyway.
One caught my eye in particular. A small butterfly with nearly see-through wings. Glass wing butterfly? I had known they existed, but I’d never seen one. They were native to Panama, weren’t they? Someone must have bought this collection online or something.
This butterfly seemed extra strange. Even though there weren’t any real light sources in the room, its wings shimmered like a kaleidoscope.
Like the butterfly, everything seemed stranger and more fascinating than they should have been. Even the paintings seemed off. They were recreations for sure, but they seemed to have differences that threw me off. Some of them were identical except they were flipped. Others had different colors.
Glass Souls (Reflection Book 1) Page 3
