A surge of fear struck me, just like the night I'd stood at my dark living room window. I wasn't supposed to be there. I should never have left the campfire. I turned my back on the water, anxious to rejoin my friends, but then my foot was slipping, slipping off the rocks. The blanket drifted from my shoulders and my arms shot out like useless wings as I tried to maintain my balance. But I couldn't. The ocean had succeeded in capturing me.
The water was cold against my back, a hard slap that shocked me into reality. The surface yielded, opening up so I would sink beneath it. I couldn't remember how to move. The water dragged me into deep oblivion.
Then, suddenly, I realized I couldn't breathe and snapped into desperate motion. My legs pushed and pedaled, my hands clawing millions of little bubbles out of the water. I was determined to bring myself above the surface, but no matter how hard I tried it never felt as if I were getting closer to it. My lungs were burning, bursting. My mouth released a stream of bubbles. I was going to drown.
Death by fire, death by water. Which was worse?
I was about to find out.
Just as I started to black out, I felt a hand on the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. It pulled me, lifted me, and then my face broke out of the water. The night was starkly cold on my wet skin. My mouth opened, gasping in air. The hand dragged me to a solid surface and I felt the sand, moist and splatting beneath my palms. I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes, staring up at the dark-clouded sky as I continued to breathe, heavily at first and then gradually slower.
I am alive.
A face appeared above me. My rescuer.
Ahaziel.
I sat up and scrambled to my feet, backing away from him. Wet sand clung to my skin, hiding in the creases of my clothes.
"You were drowning," he said. He knelt on the sand, looking up at me.
"How did you know I would be here?"
"I followed you."
So simple and honest. I should have been outraged, probably. What reason did he have to watch me, to follow me through the night? Yet I couldn't feel upset because if he hadn't been there, I would surely have died. I started to cry, unable to help myself. I pushed my dripping hair, thick with salt, out of my face.
Ahaziel stood. He spoke gently after a moment of listening to my sobs. "Come with me."
I thought about the consequences of agreeing to do so. I didn't know him or anything about him. No one would be able to find me if anything happened to me, because Ahaziel was somehow a person who existed beside my world rather than in it. Not only that, this was the man who had murdered Esmond Havelock. Maybe he wanted to murder me, too.
But he had saved me.
And could I really be upset about Esmond Havelock's death? How could I hold that against him? How could I feel anger towards him for taking a man like Eve's stepfather out of the world? It had happened so long ago.
Strands of his shoulder-length black hair stuck wetly to his golden-brown skin. I studied the hollows of his long cheeks, the curves of bone and muscle in his face. His full mouth was tense and grim but his eyes were nearly hopeful. He waited. I felt myself weakening under his gaze. Something about it caused a little tenderness inside me.
"Where?" I asked.
Then I heard voices calling my name. Brandt and Austin, coming to look for me. Maybe they'd seen me fall. I waited for them, shivering, teeth chattering. Ahaziel's gaze never left mine and I found I couldn't feel self-conscious about my birthmark, or my wet hair, or the sandy clothes clinging to my goosebumped skin. His eyes saw me, all of me, and they didn't judge. I could have been dressed for a ball or dirty from a week without showering and his eyes would never change. They would always see the real me.
I felt my stomach drop. How could I not find myself drawn to someone who was willing to take me along with all my flaws?
"Lilly, are you all right?" Brandt jogged up next to me, his hands on my shoulders. "God, you're freezing."
"I went for a swim," I said. Brandt didn't laugh.
"Who are you?" Austin demanded.
Ahaziel didn't answer. I watched as he backed away, his gaze never leaving me, until he disappeared into shadows down the beach. I lowered my eyes, which felt confusingly hot.
I hadn't wanted him to go.
"Who was that?" Brandt asked as we started back for the campfire.
"Just someone I know."
"You know him? Since when? I don't recognize him."
"He doesn't look familiar?"
"No."
I was disappointed. Maybe a small part of me had wanted Brandt to remember things from a past life too so I would have someone to share my experiences with. Someone who'd believe me and discuss things with me and not look at me like I belonged in a mental institution. As it was now, Brandt would probably get angry and demand I stop acting weird. Chris would fret. Talking my past life over with Joy or Austin was pretty much out of the question.
"What a freak," Austin muttered.
For a second I thought he was talking about me, then I realized he meant Ahaziel. But it didn't matter. The effect was the same.
I warmed myself by the campfire, still shivering like crazy, as the others continued laughing and joking and accidentally dropping their gooey marshmallows in the sand like nothing had happened. My eyes lifted from the fire, focusing beyond it, and I thought I could see a dark figure drifting there, indistinct, menacing, watching me. When I blinked the figure was gone, and maybe I'd imagined it, but nevertheless I kept bugging Brandt until he gave in and agreed to take me home. "What's with her?" I heard Joy ask as we walked back to the car. Her comment wasn't worth acknowledging, not with everything else I had on my mind.
Everyone was acting like this was a normal day. Only I knew it wasn't.
~
I woke in the middle of the night, tears in my eyes. I was hugging my pillow, shaking in fear. No, no, no . . . It took me a moment to realize I'd had another nightmare. I concentrated on breathing deeply, calmly.
The tears dried as I lay awake in bed, entangled in the covers, as if they would serve to anchor me in the safety of wakefulness. My mind drifted inevitably to Ahaziel. The shape of his lips, the shadow of his eyelashes. The sheen of his soft black hair, the hue of his skin. I pressed my face into my pillow.
I couldn't get back to sleep.
~
We had snow in the morning but the sky was clear and clean, the sun shining brightly but coldly. I sat by the living room window and stared at the thin layer of white covering the ground. Brandt was still sleeping and my mom had gone on an interview. My breakfast of toast and tea sat on the carpet beside me and I had my sketchbook open on my lap, pen poised over a sorry attempt at a self-portrait.
Ever since I turned eighteen on December 1st, I've been having nightmares. They are terrifying, dark, and formless. I can never remember them clearly. They wake me in the middle of the night. I clutch the covers around me, afraid to put my feet over the edge of the bed. The moments just after waking fill me with a heavy, suffocating dread. I fear the past and the future. I know something awful is going to happen.
I lifted the pen from the paper and stared at the words I'd written, huge letters filling the 18x24 page. I'd written some of my worries right over the half-finished drawing, obscuring the ink lines of my features. Grimacing, I flipped to a fresh page. Taking a bite of my toast, I thought I might draw something with no people, like a string of Christmas lights.
Or the ocean. I could walk there now. I frowned, remembering how I'd almost drowned last night. It had to have been an accident, me slipping off the rocks, but for a moment I entertained the idea that something had wanted me to die. Maybe that something had pulled me into the water. My frown deepened and I doodled a series of bubbles on the sketchpad.
Closing the pad, I tossed it on the couch and walked into the bathroom to study my reflection. My skin looked chalky, my birthmark glaring like cranberry juice spilled on white carpet. There were deep blue half-moons beneath my eyes. I splash
ed water onto my face, hoping vainly to bring out a dewy glow. I turned my head back and forth, watching the light glimmer on my hair.
It struck me how incredibly lonely I felt. So lonely it hurt, deep in my chest. Instantly I thought of Ahaziel. Was it his absence evoking such a visceral reaction in me? Was that even possible when I barely knew him?
Maybe I could go find him. Talk to him some more.
Heading back out into the living room, I saw my mom had returned from her interview and was relaxing on the couch, eyes closed. "How'd it go?" I asked.
"Oh, fine," she said, opening her eyes. She frowned at me. "What is it, Lil?"
"Nothing."
"Come here."
I sat beside her on the couch. She reached up her good hand and tucked my hair behind my ears, smoothing it over and over in the repetitive motion she had used to soothe me as a child. "You are beautiful," she said.
"Yeah, right. You have to say that because you're my mom."
"Lilly, I know you think that's true. But I wouldn't say it if I didn't believe it." She paused for a moment, thoughtful, then continued, "I know having such a noticeable birthmark has been hard for you. But you'll come to realize the people who look beyond it are the ones you'll want in your life. Anyone who judges you for your outward appearance isn't worth knowing."
I smiled. "Thanks."
"Anything else, dear?"
"No, Mom. I'm just going to go out for a while and find something to draw." I held my breath, wondering if she'd stop me since she'd grounded me yesterday, but she just nodded and closed her eyes again. "I won't be long," I promised, hoping that was true.
"All right. Have fun."
I grabbed my sketchpad and set out towards the beach. The sky was still clear, showing no signs of impending weather. My feet crunched over frosty sidewalks. My breath floated whitely in the air in front of me.
When I arrived, I stayed well back from the water's lapping edge. I wanted no repeats of the previous night's events. I found a large rock to sit on and balanced the sketchpad on my knees. I stared at the roaring water a long time, trying to fix the ever-changing image in my mind, trying to figure out how to draw something that was always moving. I imagined I could see all the way across it, to foreign cities on distant shores. One day I would see those cities. One day I would speak a new language.
"You like the ocean?"
I started at the voice and slid my eyes to the left. A man kneeled casually on the sand just a few feet from me. He was dark-haired and his face seemed somehow blurry, as if he were underwater. How long had he been sitting there? Dressed in black, he didn't exactly blend in with the surroundings.
"Uh, it's fine," I said, hoping not to engage him in conversation. He made me uncomfortable in a way no stranger ever had before. This was different from when Ahaziel had come upon me in the forest, though I wouldn't have recognized the difference before now. I had been unsure of Ahaziel's intentions, but now my unease was edged with a distinct razor of fear.
"I think it's mesmerizing."
That may have been true, but I wasn't going to give this man the satisfaction of agreeing with him. I closed my sketchpad pointedly and tucked my pens into the pockets of my jeans. My whole body shook. I dreaded having to walk past him to get off the beach. I didn't want to be anywhere near him.
"By the way, Lilly, you look well," the man said. My head whipped around and I saw the cruelly sarcastic smile on his face. Who was this person? How did he know my name?
I didn't want to stick around to find out.
I started off, intending to stomp through the sand to get away as fast as I could, but a black shape reared up in front of me and it was faceless in my terror. I jerked back with fright, my throat so tight I couldn't even scream, when a hand caught my arm to keep me from falling. It was then I saw the shape was Ahaziel, not the other man as I'd feared. A sob of relief escaped my lips and I glanced over my shoulder to see the stranger standing there, smirking at us.
"Stay away from her," Ahaziel told the stranger in a threatening, frightening tone. I shrank nearer to him, hating the hollow pit of fear in my stomach.
The stranger just laughed and strolled off down the beach, up to his ankles in cold ocean water. Ahaziel and I stood still, watching him go, until he was but a small dark mark on the pale landscape.
"Who was that?" I asked, my voice small. "What's going on?"
In answer, Ahaziel started walking, gripping my hand to take me along with him. We went north, in the opposite direction of the stranger. I was only too willing to follow him. After how scared I'd felt around that man, I didn't want to be alone. Ahaziel was also the only person who could give me answers.
The beach with the caves was mostly rocky with only a little sand. A sheer gray cliff surrounded it on three sides, a narrow path breaking through from a larger, more popular beach. The lighthouse loomed above it, empty and useless. I didn't look at it as we climbed up the north side of the cliff, braving the sharp rocks to reach the safety of the sandy landing of the first cave. I pictured Eve making this trek the day she and Ahaziel had met. She had been hoping he would be a way for her to escape from her stepfather. I was hoping . . . for what? I was longing. Yearning. Regretting.
There was something between us, I suddenly knew, something I had not yet come to remember. Something that caused a particular sadness in me.
Images flashed in my mind: us standing together in a forest, in a seaside cave. They were dim memories, echoes from across a great distance. Whatever connected us was stronger than time. I could see us stealing innocent, worshipful glances, delighting in our newfound love . . .
We reached the cave at last. The air inside was noticeably colder. Ahaziel set to work building a fire in a pit that was black from previous uses. In moments the fire was warming the air, smoke disappearing into some natural chimney.
"Do you remember this place?" he asked.
"There was a picnic . . ."
"No. The first time we were here."
I shook my head, confused. If the picnic hadn't been the first time I'd been in this cave with Ahaziel, that meant there was something else I needed to remember. A time before Eve, a life before hers.
How many times have we met?
"It was your first life," Ahaziel said quietly.
"What do want from me?" I asked, growing distraught. I didn't want a past life, let alone two. I didn't know why I had them or what I was meant to do about it.
"Lilly." Ahaziel's voice was gentle. "I don't want anything from you. I only want you."
His words had the unexpected effect of bringing tears to my eyes. I turned away and stared at the fire, moving closer to its warmth. I spoke, my voice thick. "Well, you obviously haven't met too many girls. Or your eyesight isn't very good. Otherwise you might have noticed my face—" I broke off, unable to continue.
"Quiet, now," he whispered, drawing close up behind me and brushing his fingers down the birthmarked side of my face. "Your birthmark doesn't bother me. You could have hundreds of them and I wouldn't care."
My breath caught as he took my shoulders and turned me gently to face him. I could see his long lashes and the flecks of iridescence in his dark, weighty gaze. I couldn't think, scarcely able to withstand the way his eyes bored into me, the way they picked me apart. He ignited me. He unhinged me. I didn't know what to do with these strange feelings. They were so alien and unsettling.
I took a deep breath. "How do I know I can trust you?" I murmured.
He took my hands in his. "I would never hurt you," he promised. "We are bound for lifetimes. Every bit of agony you've ever endured, no matter how insignificant, I have endured as well."
"You murdered Eve's stepfather," I said, not accusingly. "You did it because you couldn't stand to see him hurting her." You loved her. This I added silently.
Ahaziel nodded. "I had to help her. I was so angry I could see only one way. Nothing had turned out . . ." He looked down at the clasp of our hands. "Nothing happened the way it s
hould have. I regret that night. I gave my anger precedence over sound judgement, and I blamed myself for her death." He managed a quiet smile. "But now you're here. I've waited for you so long."
He put his arms around me and I relaxed against him, my face pressed into his black sweater. He smelled of ocean wind and the forest after a rain, damp and earthy. He smelled like himself. I knew him, I realized. No one else did, no one else in the world, but I did.
His breath tickled my skin, his lips brushed it enticingly. Something pleasurable shuddered through me. My arms went around his neck and he pulled me close at the waist, his arms tense and hard, seeming to want more than a simple embrace. His lips were gentle yet insistent. Urgency swirled up inside me and my fingers threaded tightly in his silken hair. I had no trouble imagining what would happen if we let our hands and fingers do what they ached to do. I could feel the impatience and longing inside him, kept under restraint only barely. I felt the same way and it was intoxicating.
We kneeled in the sand, pressing against each other, gripping, pulling. I felt urgent and impassioned, as if I would never have enough of him. It was obvious, from the way his hands kneaded all over my body and the greediness of his lips upon mine, he felt the same way. We were consuming each other.
I wasn't sure how much time had passed when our kiss ended, yet it felt too soon. Our lips parted with reluctance. I wanted more, much more, and the violence of my impulses scared me. I wasn't done with him yet. I wanted to tear at his hair, bite his lips, scratch welts onto his skin. I wanted him to taste me, to breathe me. I wanted to be in him, on him, surrounding him. Forever.
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