Hidden Worlds

by Kristie Cook

  “I’m sorry, the sour blond girl?” I ask him in confusion as I walk across the library to his side.

  “Yes, the one that never stops speaking, but really has nothing relevant to say. The one that makes me want to kill something,” he expounds, and then takes another deep sip from his glass.

  I inhale a huge breath, making a gasping sound, and say, “Candace!” Grabbing the glass out of his hand, I take my own large sip of it. “What’s he doing? Did he get back together with her?” I ask in a pained voice as the liquid burns a path down my throat. Frowning at me, he takes the glass from my hand, replacing it with a glass of water. Then, I start ranting, “Why am I even bothering to try to save him, if he has decided to slowly kill himself with her? She’s like taking poison, you know, but that slow poison that doesn’t kill you all at once, it kills you by degrees, a little bit each day.”

  “I see your point. At first, I thought she was just for comfort. But, the fact that he didn’t get rid of her, leads me to believe that her incessant talking makes him unable to think about anything else—or anyone,” he replies significantly, holding his glass out of my reach when I would’ve stolen it from him again. “Drink your water,” he says in a stern tone.

  “I think he likes girls that talk a lot. His sisters talk a lot he once told me. Maybe Candace is his type.” I say, trying to sound offhand about it.

  “How is that possible, when she is nothing like you, and you are his soul mate?” he asks me with a quirk of his eyebrow.

  “He won’t answer any of my phone calls, and I think he’s deleting my text messages without reading them. He thinks I’m a monster … maybe I am,” I say despondently. “I have to do something.”

  “Why? He is in no danger from—I am sorry, what was her name again?” Zephyr asks me.

  “Candace,” I reply, wrinkling my nose as if I smell something awful. “If he’s with her again, that means he’s in pain … and if he’s in pain, it’s my fault.”

  “Some pain is unavoidable,” Zephyr replies.

  “You have to take me with you when you follow him tonight, Zee. I have to see him for myself. I have to make sure that he’s okay. I can’t just stay here. He’ll never forgive me if I don’t talk to him,” I plead with Zephyr, hoping he will see my point of view.

  “You want his forgiveness? For what?” he asks me, and his tone becomes severe. I don’t say anything, but he gets the picture. “You want forgiveness for what you are—because you are not entirely human?” I nod, dropping my eyes from him because his stare makes me squirm a little. “He cannot absolve you for that, and maybe you should stop seeking absolution for something you have no control over.”

  “You have to let me see him. Please?” I beg. “Reed won’t do it. He’s being way too over protective. I know he’s just being cautious, but you both said that the souls have all but disappeared. You haven’t seen any other angels in days, especially after you took care of those Fallen that were hanging around campus. They seemed to have gotten the message: come here and we’ll kill ya dead.”

  “Yes,” he says with a slow smile, “it has been quite satisfying protecting you. You are like a lure for the supernatural, drawing us all to you. Maybe we should let you out. I still feel like killing something.”

  Even though Zephyr had said it teasingly, I jump at his comment. “It’ll have to be tonight then. Reed is supposed to make an appearance at the fund raising event tonight,” I say.

  “He won’t be pleased that you went out without him,” Zephyr predicts, watching me for my reaction to his words. “And, you did promise to follow orders to the letter,” he reminds me, throwing my words in my face.

  “I said I’d stay here until it was safe. And, I’ll be going with you as a chaperone, what could be safer?” I ask him, playing to his ego.

  He narrows his eyes at me. I widen mine, attempting to look innocent. “If you get Reed to agree, then I will take you with me, but he has to agree. I’m not going to be in the middle of your manipulation. Let me know what he says. No, don’t bother, I’ll ask him myself before he leaves,” Zephyr replies, watching me over the rim of his glass as he takes another sip.

  “Fine, Zee!” I say in frustration, and then I add, “Just how old are you? You don’t let me get away with anything.”

  “It’s not age, it’s experience, and I’m not wrapped around your little finger like everyone else around here,” he replies, smiling. “You’re really cute though. We need to work on your ability to play on your opponent’s weaknesses.”

  “What are your weaknesses?” I ask him scathingly.

  “I don’t have any,” he says with a straight face, which makes me burst out laughing.

  “Uh huh. I’ll find them … trust me,” I grin.

  ***

  In the Range Rover outside Russell’s dormitory, I shiver in the passenger seat. The weather has definitely turned from fall to winter. I want to ask Reed to turn the car back on, so that I can blast the heater vents directly at my frozen fingers, but I already feel really guilty for making him do this, so I’m trying to be as undemanding as possible.

  “Are you cold?” Reed asks softly.

  “No,” I shake my head, “I’m okay.”

  “You are shivering,” he points out.

  “I’m fine,” I insist.

  “Evie,” Reed says my name with exasperation.

  “Okay, I’m fffreezing,” I say, “please ppput the heat on.”

  Reed immediately starts the car. Turning the heat on full, he points the vents at me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks with a frown.

  Leaning nearer to the vents, I sigh, “I didn’t wwwant to bother you.”

  Reed’s eyebrows rise. “And freezing was preferable to bothering me?”

  “I know you don’t want to do this. I was just trying to be less of a pain,” I say, glancing at him. “I could’ve come with Zee.”

  His perfect lips flatten in a thin line. “It’s not that I object to being here, it’s that I think you should be at home … safe.”

  “Russell won’t talk to me there,” I murmur as I watch the front of Russell’s dorm for any sign of him.

  “I could have brought him to you,” Reed says with a small, sublime smile.

  “That wouldn’t be helpful,” I say with a frown, imagining Reed forcing Russell to come and see me.

  “Why do you need to talk to him now?” Reed asks. “Zephyr has been guarding him. He is as safe as we can make him. We should have just let Zee come tonight as planned.”

  “I don’t know why I have to talk to him now, I just do,” I murmur.

  “You love him,” Reed says in a low tone, and the ache that I see in his eyes makes me feel awful.

  Reaching out, I take Reed’s hand in mine while I say, “I love you so much it hurts sometimes. When you wouldn’t talk to me, it felt like I couldn’t breathe, like I was slowly drowning without you. I know I have to be with you. But, I also know that there is a piece of me that loves Russell—he’s my best friend. I have to make sure that he survives whatever is coming, or that piece of me will suffer forever. I can’t afford to make any mistakes. There won’t be any do-overs in this. I don’t have the luxury of time on my side to get you or Russell to see reason. I feel like time is almost up. Do you understand what I’m saying?” I ask him, sadly. “Please, don’t mistake my desperation as me not loving you.”

  He lifts my hand in his, kissing it gently. “You know, it’s easy to forget that you are just eighteen years old. I am certain that you’ve been here on Earth many times, in many different lifetimes. I know you don’t remember Paradise, but I’m certain you are from there as well,” he says softly.

  His certainty that I am not evil soothes the raw ache inside of me. “Why do souls come back? I mean life is kind of hard. Why do we have to do it more than once?” I ask.

  “There are many different reasons for a soul to return to live another life, but in your case, I would say it is because you are an ace of sorts,” he
smiles at me.

  “An ace?” I ask, unsure of what he means.

  “An ace, in a deck of cards. Have you ever played that card game War?” Reed asks me, and I nod my head. It is probably the only card game I know. “The ace is the highest card and the two is the lowest. The object of the game is to collect all of the cards by facing them off against each other. The ace always ends up winning more cards when you play it. I suspect you always seem to win more souls for our side to take back to Paradise with you. God seems to like aces. He plays them as often as He can.”

  “You really think my soul is an ace?” I ask him, struggling to get what he is saying. “But, you don’t know that for sure … I mean, I could be an ace for the other team, couldn’t I? You can’t tell if my soul is evil or anything like that, can you?” I ask him, trying to clarify his theory.

  He frowns, saying, “You are not evil.”

  I sigh, “I know you think I’m not, but you can’t be completely certain.”

  “I’m certain,” he replies immediately, no longer willing to entertain the possibility that I am on the other team.

  I sit quietly next to Reed while he strokes the back of my hand in his. “You think that time is almost up … for your premonition?” Reed says in a deceptively casual tone that is not reaching his eyes.

  My heartbeat thumps heavily as I nod, “Uh huh.”

  “Then time is up … we will leave tonight,” Reed says with a mixture of finality and relief.

  “Reed … I can’t,” I begin.

  “Evie, you cannot possibly imagine what you mean to me … we have a much better language to describe the love I feel for you, but it doesn’t translate, “ he says. “If something were to happen to you,” His jaw grows taut. “You have to escape this before the chaos buries you beneath it. I won’t risk your life like this anymore.”

  “I’ll never leave you,” I whisper, moving into his strong embrace. “I promise you that I won’t.”

  “Zee can guard Russell,” Reed says, still holding me close.

  “Just let me talk to Russell,” I plead, trying to avoid committing to his will.

  Reed sighs deeply. “You have tonight. If you don’t find him, you can send him a postcard. I’m making arrangements to leave in the morning.” He pulls back from me to look in my eyes.

  Glancing away from Reed, I try to come up with a way to make him relent and let me stay. Then, I spot Russell heading out of his dormitory with a backpack full of books, and my heart beats harder in my chest. It looks as if he’s heading to the library to study. Finals are next week, so it makes sense that he would be cramming for them. Turning to Reed, I say nervously, “There he is. Wish me luck.”

  With a small frown, Reed mutters, “Good luck.”

  “Thanks,” I reply, opening the car door and climbing out. As I close the door, I discreetly hide the necklace Reed gave me beneath the silken neckline of my blouse. Then, I catch up to Russell in the parking lot by the bookstore. “Russell. Please stop … I need to talk to you.”

  “Go away, Genevieve,” Russell says, seeing me behind him. The scowl on his face makes it clear he really means it.

  “Russell, please—I know you think I’m creepy, but you have to talk to me,” I beg him.

  Turning around, Russell says angrily, “Why? Why do I have to talk to ya? Why can’t ya just leave me alone?” Whirls of his breath curl and float away from his face.

  “Because I’m worried about you. Because I can’t rest until I know you’re okay, and you’re not okay—so here I am, trying to be your friend,” I answer.

  “Ya can’t be my friend,” he says without having to think about it.

  “Why?” I ask him sadly.

  “Cuz yer not normal—yer a freak!” he spits out.

  I try to ignore the pain squeezing my heart as I say, “Yeah—I guess I am a freak, but I’m also the same person you met on the first day of school. There isn’t much difference, except for the fact that I have evolved a bit since then, but essentially I’m the same.”

  “What’re ya tryin’ to do to me? What do ya want from me?” Russell asks me, and the pain in his voice almost breaks me.

  “I just want to help you. Please, Russell,” I reply.

  “Ya want to help me? Well, then, get outta my head—get outta my dreams, stop callin’ me, and stop writin’ me. Go away and never come back. I never want to see yer face again. Ya creepy half … thing!” Russell says with his teeth clenching. Thinking he might hit me, I back up and put my hands out in front of me.

  “Shhh. Russell, it’s okay … I promise, I’ll go away soon. I promise you. You won’t have to see me ever again soon. I just want to know that you’re safe, and then I’ll go. I’m so sorry, Russell—I’m so sorry,” I whisper as hot tears run from my eyes.

  Russell stalks toward me then, looking desperate. Grasping my chin with one hand, he forces me to look into his eyes. “Ya just stay away from me, do ya understand? Just stay away.”

  “Russell, I’m so sorry …” I trail off because he squeezes my face tighter, making me wince. He lets go of me then, backing away. He turns, and picking up the backpack he had dropped, he walks away toward the library. He never looks back. Leaning against a parked car, I try to stop crying. The piece of me that loves Russell twists inside of me and writhes in pain.

  Can I exist without a soul? I wonder. I feel like I am about to find out because that part of me feels like it is dying.

  Slowly, I walk back toward the car. As I come into view, Reed is instantly at my side. He growls when he sees my bruised chin. “I will break his jaw,” he says in cool anger, “then I will really hurt him.”

  “No!” I cry, grasping his hand. “Russell is just freaking out a little. This is nothing,” I say, indicating my chin. “I just have to keep things secret from now on, since it’s clear he wants nothing more to do with a freak like me. We just have to be stealthy, so he doesn’t know we’re watching him.” I whisper, because I’m having trouble maintaining a normal tone.

  “We no longer need to remain here. I will kill him, and then we will leave,” Reed states plainly.

  My heart races in panic. “You’re not going to kill Russell. I’ll be completely healed in ten minutes or less,” I say adamantly.

  Reed’s brows draw together dangerously. “He hurt you,” Reed replies in a forceful tone.

  “I Tasered you by the lake, remember?” I ask him quietly.

  He frowns at me darkly, “That was different. You were scared, and it didn’t even hurt me.”

  “Russell is scared, too. I see his reaction as the same kind of thing—and I can handle it,” I say, opening my car door and getting into the passenger side. “It’s like you said earlier, I have a talent for eliciting strong emotion in others. I can see that now.” I watch him get in the car and start the engine. “Beware the power of the mutant.”

  Reed frowns. “You are not a mutant. I have seen mutants, and they look nothing like you,” he says.

  “You’ve seen mutants? What do they look like?” I ask him, watching his scowl fade a little.

  “I want to show you something,” Reed says, turning the engine on and pulling away from the curb. Grateful to be back in the car, I immediately turn all of the heat vents at me and put the fan on high. “I have helped Zee follow your soul mate for weeks now,” he continues. “And I have watched him come here every day for the past week since it opened. I will show you his spot,” he says, pulling up to the Sage Center.

  Exiting the car, Reed escorts me inside the building where the art exhibition is in full swing. A bar is set up in the lobby of the first floor and elegantly attired men and women mill around, discussing the art and the artists on display. He leads me up the grand staircase, to the second floor of the building, to where the Sam MacKinnon Art Exhibition adorns the walls. The exhibition has drawn a large crowd of well-dressed patrons tonight, and I feel a little out of place in my jeans. I am grateful that I have on one of the sexy, silk tops that Reed had given me;
that helps to dress up my jeans. Shrugging out of my coat, I take my gloves off as we approach the gallery.

  Reed ushers me beyond several beautiful portraits to the one on display away from the rest, like it has its own place of honor outside of the others. This painting has special lighting and seating near it. Gazing at the exquisite brush strokes, I am in awe that I had posed for this portrait. It looks as if it could’ve been painted centuries ago; it is in the style of a Rembrandt or a Vermeer.

  Reed shows me to the bench directly in front of it. Pointing to the seat, he says, “This is where Russell sits when he comes here.” Sitting quietly on the bench he indicates, I study the portrait critically. Sam had chosen to go with the sensual pose that he must’ve gotten when I was watching Reed that day. I notice several people admiring it overtly.

  Reed disappears for a moment, and then he returns with a brochure for the exhibition. The portrait of me is on the cover of the brochure. “Russell takes one of these each time he comes here. It is like he cannot help himself,” he says, sitting down next to me on the bench.

  “Thank you,” I say simply as tears well up in my eyes.

  We sit there together for a long time, neither one of us speaking, until the crowd dwindles. Then, I feel Reed stiffen next to me. It is not overt, just a tensing of his muscles, but it sends alarm bells off inside my head. Glancing at him, I try to see what has set him off.

  “Evie,” Reed says calmly, “when I tell you, you must run as fast as you can to my house and find Zee. You will not hesitate, and you will not try to assist me. Do you understand?” he asks in a tone so low that only I could possibly hear him.

  My heart thumps painfully as I ask, “What is it?”

  “Fallen—at least three—all fanning out,” he replies succinctly. “I will help you escape, don’t worry, just be ready,” he says.

  “I’m not leaving you …” I begin, but Reed cuts me off.

  “You will follow my orders,” he says firmly. Reed’s eyes dart around the room rapidly, assessing our surroundings. His jaw grows taut. “There may be more Fallen here than this. I have to get you out of here. Go to Zephyr; he will keep you safe until I get there,” he says quickly.