by Tee, Marian
We’re lucky,” Dyvian continued. “At this time of the day, people are rarely around. In fact, you can even—”
“Oh no, no, don’t even think about it. I’m definitely not going to school today.”
“No one’s making you,” Lucian assured me with a slight smile, for once, the usual clinical quality of his voice replaced with something tender. “He’s probably just thinking about how close-knit Sanger is.”
He nodded to Dyvian. “Just call the principal and make an excuse.”
Dyvian was already fishing his mobile phone out of his pocket. He spoke less than a minute, but his tone oozed with practiced charm. When the call ended, he grinned. “All done. I told the principal that you two are getting hitched in Vegas.”
Lucian gave his brother a stoic look while I didn’t know whether to start jumping for joy. Then he scowled, which was bewildering. What did I do?
“Be serious, will you?” he snapped.
“I didn’t say anything,” I protested, hoping all the while my face wasn’t giving anything away. So, I sort of entertained the idea of getting hitched in Vegas. Surely, he didn’t know that?
Dyvian was gesturing toward something behind my back. “We do need to go to Vegas for that.”
Following his gaze, I turned around and was startled into a gasp.
My day-old SUV was barely recognizable with crushed metal for a bumper and an improvised, hand-torn sunroof.
A low moan of dismay escaped my lips.
“It’s okay.” Lucian dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from my car. “But—”
“I hit the jackpot in the stock market, remember? I can afford to get it fixed.” He shrugged. “Or we can get a new one and—”
“I’d rather have it fixed,” I interrupted, feeling sentimentally attached.
“So we go to Vegas and get it fixed?” Dyvian prompted. “Anywhere else could raise questions.”
“What about Pahrump?” Lucian inquired.
Dyvian groaned. “I knew you’d say that.” He gave me a beseeching look, his eyes adopting a lost puppy expression and the corners of his lips turning down. “Come on, Deli. Tell Lucian you need the bright lights of Vegas to help you get through your ordeal.”
Now that he said it, maybe that was just what I needed. I didn’t really feel like going home yet. I had the urge to cleanse myself first, to wait for the memories to fade before returning home.
“I do feel like going somewhere…”
Lucian’s scowl gradually melted into a resigned sigh. “Just this once, I suppose.”
Dyvian whooped. He winked at me, saying, “You were right, Deli. You do have him wrapped around your little finger.” His words made me laugh, and I relaxed even more as Lucian responded in his usual biting fashion. As long as I got to be with Lucian and Dyvian, I could somehow convince myself that things would turn out right in the end.
~~~
Secrecy was of the essence. My eyes perpetually scanned the area for possible witnesses. We were the only ones living in this part of Sanger, but we didn’t want to take any chances. Behind me, Lucian had turned Evren, gathering all the wreckage with a sweep of his invisible tail before setting everything on fire.
By the time the Chevaliers’ pickup rumbled into view, with Dyvian behind the wheel, everything had been reduced to cinders. He hooked the SUV to the pickup while Lucian got in the passenger seat next to him and I climbed into the back seat.
We had been driving for a few minutes when I finally broke the silence. “He told me we met before. I’ve been thinking about it and I realize he could be one of the guys who attacked us that night. Couldn’t he?””
Dyvian’s worried gaze checked my expression through the rearview mirror. “You’ve only stopped crying yourself to sleep—”
“I want to know if he’s one of them.”
“Yes.” Lucian spoke without looking at me.
“Then I’m glad you’ve killed him.” Tears of helpless anger trailed down my cheeks. “I wish I could’ve killed him myself. Any Zekan would do.”
“You might still have a chance to do that.”
“What?” Dyvian’s tone was sharp in his surprise.
“Deli’s attacker was no ordinary Zekan. The kind of heat we have here in Sanger could’ve easily crippled most Zekans, but your attacker hadn’t seemed bothered by it. By my estimate, he seemed to have been a middle official of their race.”
“A middle official? They think I’m so hard to kill they sent a middle official—”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but they most likely sent a middle official because they considered you an important target and not because they think you’re, err, indestructible. Also, I believe they wanted to capture you alive.”
“Oh, suuuure. He so wanted me alive he gave me these bruises to keep me safe.”
“But did he try to bite you?”
I gaped. “Why would he bite me? You didn’t tell me Zekans were vampires—”
Lucian twisted in his seat to make sure I received the full impact of his exasperated frown. “For the last time, Deli, enough with the vampires. They do not have exclusive rights to biting. Snakes bite, don’t they? So do Zekans. Their venom is also a hundred times more deadly. It has been so since they discovered drinking human blood made their poison more potent.”
“So, you’re saying Zekans aren’t just half-snakes but vampire wannabes as well? And the more they kill, the more poisonous they get?”
“Your obsession with vampires—” Lucian began darkly.
“That’s so unfair.” I cut him off with a groan. “It’s like rewarding bad guys for being…bad.”
“Did he try to bite you, Deli?” Dyvian burst out.
“Like I’d let him.”
“Humans die from one bite, but it would take a couple to kill an Evren. The Zekan attacking you probably thought you were still human. As your body’s still adjusting, you still wouldn’t smell like Evren to him. And because he thought you were human—”
“He didn’t risk biting me,” I finished, numb once more with shock. Did I have the words “kill me” stamped on my forehead that only Zekans could see?
Dyvian shook his head. “Do you have any idea why they seem so keen on getting Deli?”
“Not at the moment, but I will find out. Trust me on that, Deli.”
I sniffed back tears. “I do. And I just can’t thank both of you enough for helping me.” I scooted forward to kiss Dyvian on the cheek.
“Chill, big bro,” he said when I moved away. “Deli’s not my type.”
I caught sight of a fleeting scowl on Lucian’s face. It made me smile. “Yes, no need to worry. Dyv’s totally not my type either.”
“I have no idea what both of you are talking about,” Lucian said dispassionately. He leaned back in his seat and turned toward the window, staring at the scenery like he had never seen a desert in his entire life.
Eager to lose myself in humor and forget about all the bad stuff, even temporarily, I bit back a smile as I let my fingers walk on Lucian’s shoulders. “You fit the bill of my ideal guy, though.”
He swatted my fingers away. “Stop talking nonsense.”
Dyvian and I succumbed to laughter.
“You two have gone insane.”
That got his brother laughing harder, but all his talk about nonsense and insanity made me remember another issue, one that had made me seriously doubt my own sanity…till today. “Lucian? Did The Voice tell you I was in danger?”
“The voice?” Dyvian echoed.
Lucian made a strangling noise while pulling on the collar of his shirt. “The Voice?”
I smiled knowingly. “No point denying it, Lucian. The Voice told me you can hear him—it—too. Don’t you?”
“Ah, yes.” Lucian seemed to have a hard time meeting Dyvian’s eyes or mine.
Poor guy. He was probably still struggling with the same doubts I had about my sanity. “It’s okay, Lucian. You
’re not crazy. The Voice is real.”
“Will somebody please tell me what’s going on?” Dyvian demanded.
I was more than eager to explain. “It’s a new ability of Evren, Dyv.”
“A what?”
“Deli,” Lucian groaned in a pained tone.
I scooted forward again to squeeze his shoulder in sympathy. “I know, Lucian. It’s hard to adjust to, but you will in time.” I met Dyvian’s questioning eyes through the rearview mirror and, adopting a professor-like tone, I explained, “It’s like this, Dyvian. You’re like Evren version 1.0 and I’m Evren version 2.0 so I have better features so to speak.”
Dyvian smirked. “And you think Lucian believes—”
“Of course, he does!” I spoke up before Lucian could even open his mouth. “Because he hears it, too.”
“Riiight. One question, though—hasn’t it occurred to you that if I’m what you call Evren version 1.0,” his voice made it obvious he was still smarting at the term since Dyvian hated anything that made him less than fashionable, “then Lucian would qualify as something like Evren version zero, don’t you think? He’s older than me, after all.”
I hated it when people came up with smart points like that and I had no back-up answer. “Well,” I stalled and looked outside my window for inspiration. The road sign at my right told me that we were just minutes away from Vegas, but I didn’t know how that could help me.
“It’s because I made her.” Lucian was also staring at the scenery outside when he said the words. I guess the scenery was of more help to him than it was to me. “That’s why I share this, ah, new ability of hers.” His voice was low and strained. Poor, poor guy.
“Because you were the one who turned her Evren? You’re saying you have this special connection to her, and that’s why you can hear this voice as well?”
“Yes,” I answered when Lucian didn’t seem inclined to speak.
“What does it sound like?” Dyvian glanced back at me, his brows furrowed in suspicion.
Lucian stiffened in response just about the same time I froze in my seat. Was this the right time to admit about The Voice sounding like Lucian? “Well,” I stammered.
“Lucian?” Dyvian insisted. “What does it sound like?”
Lucian cleared his throat, and I knew right away he was hiding something.
And then it hit me. Oh, my God, what if Lucian’s Voice sounded like mine? What if The Voice borrowed the one you’re destined to fall in love with or something like that?
But my attention veered away from the possibility when in front me, Lucian’s shoulders suddenly jerked. “Are you okay?” I asked right away, worried that his fight with the Zekan might have done him more damage than he had let on.
“Alien,” Lucian barked out, startling Dyvian and me. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “It sounds very, ahh, very much like an alien, the words all garbled up.”
“Oh.” Since I very well knew I didn’t sound like an alien, Lucian’s response definitely killed my theory.
“How about yours, Deli?”
“Something like that, too,” I lied, still feeling dispirited.
Dyvian was slowing down to drive into a crowded automobile service center. “This is me then,” he declared as he unlocked the doors. “I’ll take care of things from here and meet up with you later on at—” Already halfway out of the car, Dyvian turned to raise a brow at Lucian.
“Caesars Palace, probably,” Lucian replied after a moment. “As we’re here, we might as well enjoy it.”
Dyvian grinned. “Now, we’re talking.”
Watch me, I mouthed to Dyvian before gushing, “Oh, Lucian, you mean it?” and throwing my arms around him from the backseat.
Dyvian didn’t even blink. “I’ll leave you guys to celebrate in private.” He walked away, whistling.
“Deli.” In spite of Lucian’s even tone, the threat in his voice was unmistakable.
I released him, laughing. I could sense the memories of this morning fade, losing their tormenting sharpness, and I laughed even louder. Lucian and I got out of the car. I moved to Lucian’s evacuated seat while he went around the pick-up to take the wheel.
Waving goodbye to Dyvian as Lucian pulled out of the service center’s driveway, I turned to Lucian when he spoke my name. “Yeah?”
“It’s better not to talk about, err, The Voice, to anyone, you understand?”
“Duh. Who do you think I can talk to about it?”
“You know we’re not the only Evren in this world. And then there are the Zekans, of course.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a new ability, as you said, and other people not knowing about it could come in handy when you’re in danger.” Lucian’s forest green eyes darkened. “Not that I’m intending to leave you to get into trouble again.” He tipped my chin up. “Do you understand?”
I nodded. “Crystal clear.”
“Good.”
Silence resumed inside the car.
“Voice,” I ventured.
It took several seconds before The Voice answered. “Yes?”
It still sounded like Lucian, and I didn’t know whether that was good or bad. “Do you know what you sound like when you’re talking to Lucian?”
There was a moment’s hesitation before it replied, “Yes.”
“What do you sound like then? Do you really sound like an alien when you’re talking to Lucian?”
The length of time it took for The Voice to respond made me wonder what could be so important about my question that it would make The Voice unnaturally hesitant.
“Voice?”
“It sounds…”
I held my breath.
“Like you.”
I collapsed on my seat as air whooshed out of my lungs. I stole a look at Lucian but he still had his eyes firmly fixed on the road.
“Are you sure, Voice?”
“Yes.” It sounded more like itself now, responding matter-of-factly.
“But why did he lie?”
“I am not in a position to answer that.”
“Right. Sorry. But…what about its significance? Why do you sound like me when you’re talking to Lucian?”
Again, a note of hesitation before The Voice replied, “The voice I borrow belongs to the person you care for the most.”
Chapter Eight
When I realized that having The Voice inside my head didn’t mean I was insane, I considered myself lucky because I had such a unique, smart, and understanding “companion” only few others, humans or Evren, had. Me being me, of course, I never considered having The Voice inside my head could have any negative consequence.
“You’re oddly quiet,” Lucian observed as we stepped inside the ornately designed elevator together with several other hotel guests.
“Oh?” My voice cracked.
He raised a brow. “Is something the matter?”
I shook my head quickly. “Nothing.” How could anything be wrong when I had just found out that Lucian cared for me? It was a thought I fully embraced, especially as it temporarily allowed me to ignore the other not-so-nice-things in my life.
The elevator chimed as it reached our floor, and I followed Lucian out. Even in his less than immaculate clothes, he still made heads turn—a fact he seemed unaware of.
I tried to duplicate his indifference. People were gawking at me, too, but only because they didn’t understand how I could’ve gotten past the doorman with my windswept-slash-broomstick hair, dirt-streaked skin, and torn clothing.
Staying confident while being everyone’s object of unfavorable amazement was not an easy thing to do, and by the time we reached the hallway leading to our room, I felt about two feet tall.
“We’re here,” Lucian murmured with a glance over his shoulder before turning to the door on his left. I was okay with washing up in any of the hotel’s public restrooms, but Lucian had insisted on getting a room instead. That jackpot of his must be beyond huge.
I moved to step past the
housekeeping attendant and her cleaning trolley, pretending not to notice how the pretty brunette gave me a dismissive once-over, her lip curling upon seeing my less than perfect appearance. My self-esteem further diminished, I now felt eleven inches tall.
“Excuse me.” There was no way I could pass without either bumping the trolley or Lucian.
She ignored me, continuing to ogle Lucian shamelessly.
This was so not what I needed. After battling it out with a Zekan, I was by no means letting a rude hotel employee get the better of me. I took a deep breath.
“Baby?”
The woman and I both turned to Lucian in surprise. Who was he calling “baby?”
Lucian touched my cheek. “Let’s go in, baby.” He gestured to the door he had just unlocked. His eyes gleamed, and I knew instantly he had known all along about the silent war I had going with the other woman. Calling me “baby” was his way of letting her know whose side he was firmly on.
A smile broke out on my face. “Oh, baby, sure.” I hugged him quickly, turning just enough so I could gloat at the woman. Her envious glare was manna to my eyes.
“And you know what, baby? I’ll forgive you for—” I couldn’t say anything more because Lucian had already dragged me inside the room with him. He let go of me with a little frown. I frowned right back, irritated at him for not letting me finish gloating.
“It was overkill,” he told me, as if reading my thoughts. Lucian sighed and ruffled my hair briefly. “You didn’t really think I’d let you get away with acting like I’m your lapdog, did you?”
I pouted. “I wasn’t treating you like a lapdog.”
“A trophy boyfriend you have around your little finger then.” He took his hand away.
The loss of physical contact between us made me feel even more irritable. “But—”
Lucian quelled the rest of my sentence with a curt shake of his head. He waved toward the door across the suite. “That’s your room. It has its own Jacuzzi so go ahead and take your time freshening up.”
Seeing the familiar, busy look on Lucian’s face and knowing it more or less meant he was thinking about a million problems and maybe trying to find a solution to global warming along the way, I turned away with a sigh and did as told.
