Final Life: Book One in the Transhuman Chronicles
Page 17
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Farrell shoved his hands in his pockets and kept quiet during our walk home. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I didn’t give him the chance, walking at a quick pace with my arms crossed.
When we got home, I went straight for my room, turned on every light, and buried myself under my covers. Everything that Jan had told me stayed with me, her story about Abigail so vivid in my head that I feared the girl appearing in my room, like a ghost. But I told myself that if she did appear, I would call for Farrell and he’d come.
Farrell, my own personal protector who’d been with me now for eight lifetimes. If only he remembered what had happened in each life, maybe we’d have a chance this time.
At just past midnight, and still nowhere close to sleep, I decided to go to his room. After all, he had checked on me that one night, why not check on him?
I tiptoed down the hall, and it seemed like forever before I got to his door. I turned the knob and gave it a small push, and then another and another until it opened all the way. My eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness. Farrell lay in bed, twisting from side to side. Fear tightened my chest. I hesitated to get closer. But what if he needed me? Four more steps and I was at his bedside, about to touch his shoulder, when he called out my name. I sucked in my breath, wondering if I should wake him, when he sat up and grabbed my arm. He pulled my body close. Our eyes locked, but it was as if he didn’t see me, as if he didn’t know who I was.
"Farrell, wake up. It’s me, Dominique."
His eyes were wild, his breathing heavy and warm on my cool cheek.
"Farrell, it’s me!"
He blinked a few times before recognizing me. His face softened as he released my arm. "Dominique? What are you doing here? Are you okay?"
"Yes, I’m fine. I was just checking on you. Are you okay?"
He ran his fingers through his hair. "Yeah, I’m good. I didn’t mean to startle you."
His face relaxed, and I took that as an invitation to stay. I sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what to say next. "What were you dreaming about?"
"Nothing," he said.
So he had secrets, too. An awkward silence filled the room. My hand shot up to my hair.
"You should really do something about that nervous habit," he added.
I stopped in mid-twist and brought my hand down. "I know. It’s a dead giveaway, isn’t it?"
He smiled. "Yeah, it is."
I started to get cold sitting there in my boxers and t-shirt, and my body started shivering. Farrell sat up and wrapped his comforter around my shoulders, exposing his perfectly sculpted chest. "It’s supposed to be in the teens tonight, a record for Houston," he said. "If the weather holds, it might even snow in a few days."
A low in the teens for December was cold, even by Michigan standards. "And how do you know so much about the weather?" I joked.
"I can just tell," he said. "But what I can’t tell is what happened at Jan’s that led you to call out for me."
He couldn’t tell what I was doing unless he was with me. That was good to know, and something I had wondered. I knew now, though, that he could hear me down the block.
He sat closer to me. "Are you going to tell me what happened over there?"
I didn’t know why I resisted telling Farrell and my parents everything, but I did. Somehow, I needed to keep something for myself. "It was nothing, really. Just dropped my cup, that’s all."
His silence told me he didn’t believe my answer, so I had to give him something. "But I didn’t have a vision, if that’s what you’re wondering. In fact, the last one I had was when I played the Ouija board."
"Good, and now that your shield has been reinforced you shouldn’t see that red desert. And if you do, then we’ll know you’re exposed." He took my hand. "If that happens, I’ll be there for you."