by Tiffany King
I felt bad. I had been so wrapped up in Mark and my drama, I hadn’t thought about those we would leave behind. I felt a twinge of guilt for being ready to embrace death when I thought Mark was dead. My poor mom would have been devastated, but I also knew that if the situation arose again, I would still feel the same.
I waited until Mark drifted asleep before I left his room and headed down to check on my mom.
My mom was sleeping when I entered the room. I tiptoed in and sat quietly beside her bed. I reached over and linked my fingers lightly through hers. Her eyelids fluttered open.
“Hi mom,” I said choking back tears.
“Hey, honey,” she answered in a weak voice. “Are you okay?” She asked, obviously worried about my history in this area.
“I’m fine, just worried about you.”
“Don’t worry about me; I’m going to be fine,” she said in a near whisper, dropping off again.
I spent several hours with her as she drifted in and out of sleep. When the nurse came in to give her pain meds, she suggested I take a break, that my mom would most likely sleep through the night. I thanked her and headed back to Mark’s room.
I knew it was probably against hospital policy to stay overnight. The announcement ending visiting hours had sounded a few minutes ago, but I didn’t let that deter me. I walked purposefully past the nurse’s station and gave a sigh of relief when I saw that the station was empty.
I closed the door to his room softly behind me and headed to the chair beside his bed. I pushed it as close as I could to the bed and lowered the railing of the bed, so I could hold his hand while he slept.
As I watched him sleep, I knew that I would never allow this to happen again. Together we would become stronger. We would never allow ourselves to be the victims again.
Mark opened his eyes a few hours later and saw me watching him.
“You should sleep,” he said.
“I’m fine.”
Mark used his hand and pressed my head on his heart where I longed to be. I could hear his thoughts as plainly as mine and smiled as I felt his heart beat against my ear. I would never grow tired of listening to his heart. Rightfully, it was my heart also, since neither of us could live without the other. We weren’t some aliens or scientific project, we were meant to be.
Forgotten Souls
(The Saving Angels book 2)
By
Tiffany King
http://www.authortiffanyjking.blogspot.com
Copyright © 2011 by Tiffany King
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All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Being a writer is a joy and a privilege for me and something I would never be able to do without a wonderful support system. To my forever fabulous husband, who helps breathe life into every story I write. To my daughter, who loves the stories I weave, even when they are messy. To my son, who makes me believe in magic everyday. To my sister, who shares my love of reading. To my sister-in-law, you make my covers come alive. Finally, to the most amazing friends anyone could ask for on Twitter. Thank you for the help and endless support you provide each and every day.
Forgotten Souls
Chapter 1
I curled my toes deep into the cool sand and watched the water as it gently lapped at the tide line. I had been here so many times, I felt as if I knew every grain of sand. The breeze was as gentle as always and the subtleness of the sweet salty air filled my lungs. I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather be. I shifted to a more comfortable spot waiting for Mark to join me. My heart started beating a little faster as anxiety began to creep in. Maybe it was just my imagination, but he seemed to be taking longer than usual to get here. It's a good thing I didn't wear a watch, otherwise I would have been nervously checking it every five seconds. What if today he didn't show up?
I shook my head trying to calm my breathing. Of course he was coming. We had overcome that obstacle. I knew I was just being ridiculous, but I scanned the horizon more anxiously. After nearly losing him once, I couldn't control the panic that slowly dug its claws into my frantically beating heart.
Finally, he appeared in the distance, his silhouette walking toward me at what seemed to be the slowest of snail paces. Using my newfound skills, I leaped to my feet in one fluid movement, bolting the remaining distance that separated us and threw myself into his strong arms. He clasped me tightly against him, but only briefly, releasing me before my erratic heartbeat could calm itself. He rested his hands on my shoulders in a soft caress. I tilted my head to the side resting on the back of his knuckles. His hands slid across my shoulders making me shiver as they slowly crept toward my slender neck. His touch was like heaven on earth.
I turned my gaze to his face, drinking in his handsome features. My eyes traveled up his neck, past his well-chiseled chin, briefly resting on his soft, kissable lips and finally, sliding up to his enticing brown eyes that never failed to draw me in.
He looked back at me disdainfully, like I was a gnat bothering him by buzzing around his head causing me to take a cautious step backwards.
Gone were the warm, inviting brown eyes that melted my soul each time I looked into them. Instead, they resembled the dull grey mud you would find on the side of the road. I gasped in sudden shock when I saw the hint of red in the center of each pupil. His hands instantly lost their soft touch. Instead of the gentle caress that made me shiver with need, they had become a vice holding me in place.
I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong when his features began to shift before me, and I found myself facing the monster that had haunted most of my recent waking moments. His hands tightened into a death grip, cutting into my windpipe, stalling the process of airflow through me. A scream bubbled up inside me as I tried to pull away, frantically trying to put distance between us. Mark's dad grinned back at me as blackness took over with the red in his eyes burning into my very soul.
"Krista!" I woke with a start at my name being called impatiently. Sitting up confused, I tried to shake the last of the nightmare away and gather my bearings.
"Krista," the voice said again with enough sarcasm laced through it that I knew I was in trouble.
"Are you kidding me? You decide to take a nap on probably one of the most important shopping days of our lives?"
Before I could come up with a coherent excuse, my best friend turned to our other bestie Lynn, who was leaning against the wall uncomfortably, clearly wishing she was anywhere but here.
I would have giggled if Sam wasn't so worked up. The fact that she had turned to Lynn to help berate me over my poor shopping etiquette was comical. Nothing about Lynn's appearance could be considered "fashion guruish." Standing with her scuffed converse sneakers crossed at the ankles, hands stuffed deep in the pockets of jeans that had seen better days, with more holes than a slice of Swiss cheese. Between her rock shirt, multiple piercings and short Goth haircut, she looked like a groupie at a concert. All that was missing from her ultra cool look was a cigarette dangling between her slender fingers. I knew for a fact though, that was one rebellious act Lynn would never succumb to. Of course, being asthmatic made the choice easy for her.
Once again, I had to clamp down a giggle, here we were practically Angels and poor Lynn was forced to carry an inhale
r around with her.
"Can you believe she was napping?" Sam asked shrilly.
Before she could continue her tirade, I cut in, feeling slightly embarrassed as other shoppers stepped closer as if they were expecting some kind of cat fight.
"Sam, I wasn't napping. I was just resting my eyes," I lied, not wanting to delve into my nightmare before I could analyze it myself and try to make sense of it. We'd had enough drama lately and I wasn't ready to throw my dreams back into the pot.
I cringed as the tell-all blush gave away my white lie.
"Resting your eyes? Sure I believe you. Not." Sam muttered, shifting the stack of dresses in her arms. "And I'm flying my private jet to prom. Can you at least pretend that you're a little interested in your prom?"
"Sam, I'm interested. I just still think it's crazy that everyone's making such a big deal about it when we have so many other pressing issues to deal with." Once again raising the same objections I had been voicing for the last few days.
"Mark just got released from the hospital. I'm sure dancing and partying is not the kind of recovery regiment his doctor has in mind."
"Right, because I'm sure you and Mark are going to party like animals. I mean give me a break. I'm sure we're going to have to drag your butt out on the dance floor. Or maybe you have other ideas where the night might lead," Sam added, raising her eyebrows at me suggestively.
Lynn sniggered behind me. Turning around, I shot her a look. I was pretty sure that she had much more experience in that category than I did. My stance had always been to wait until marriage. The fact that we found out we were some kind of celestial beings made it even harder to jump into bed with Mark, no matter how smoking hot he was. We might not have all the facts of our origins yet, but I'm confident more was expected of us than letting our raging hormones get in the way.
Lynn returned my stare, balefully getting a sense of what I was thinking.
Ugh, I loved all of them, but it was hard being an open book to so many people now. I felt my face redden slightly, but fought it off like a pro. At least having my emotions in check was nice.
"Kidding," Sam said also picking up my conflicting emotions. "We just want to go to prom so we can say we did it. We all know Mark's not quite up to par yet. Plus you have to admit the venue is pretty swanky."
Sam was right. St. Briggets had spared no expense on throwing a bash that would be talked about for years. The prom committee, led by none other than the dreaded Lush Trio, had conducted every possible fundraiser imaginable. That, combined with the deep pockets of the overindulgent parents and this year's prom was being held at the exclusive Swan Resort, which was located smack dab on the cliffs of the beach near Aptos. The whole school had been buzzing for weeks, since typically the clientele for the ultra-swanky Swan Resort was a who's who of Hollywood A-Listers looking to tie the knot.
Sam had been crowing about seeing the inside of it for weeks.
Not that I didn't want to go to prom, I really did. Sure, dancing in front of all those people was enough to test my emotional gauge, but I just felt we had more important things we should be doing. Number one on our list was finding and taking care of the man who had tried to kill and destroy our very race, not to mention locating the missing pair of our mismatched group.
The short video of them I saw while being held captive remained vividly in my head. At the time I had only one concern, which was to get Mark and me away from the monster that was holding us hostage. Now that I was removed from that perilous situation, I had been thinking about them a lot and was haunted with the image of Mark's dad (or Mr. Russo as I had come to think of him, wanting no connection between him and Mark) torturing them and doing similar experiments on them that he did on me. Just the thought of the other pair suffering like I had, made bile rise in my throat.
"Krista, what do you think?" Sam asked, breaking into my thoughts.
"Looks good," I said automatically, embarrassed that I had become distracted again. Truthfully, Sam did look smashing in the dress she was modeling for us. I got up to stand beside her and adjusted the spaghetti straps of the midnight blue dress. The dress came to just above her knees with a full skirt that flared out around her. The dress cinched at her narrow waist while the top tapered in, showing off all of Sam's assets.
"Actually, you look ridiculously hot," I added. "Shawn may have a stroke when he sees you in this."
"Well, I guess it’s a good thing I have some crazy healing touch," Sam quipped mischievously.
"Oh, he'll want your healing touch somewhere," Lynn piped in, coming up on the other side of Sam and linked her arm through hers. I did the same on the other side. We studied our reflection in the trio of mirrors and started giggling.
We couldn't have looked more different if we tried. Lynn all decked out in her Goth gear, Sam with her fancy prom dress, and me with my customary shorts, Roxy t-shirt and ultra comfortable Reef sandals. We were the oddest bunch ever.
Still giggling, Sam turned to me, thrusting an armful of cocktail dresses she had set on the back of one of the chairs into my arms. "Your turn. Get in there and find the perfect dress. We're not leaving until you have the best dress," she said with a smile, shooing me toward her now vacated dressing room.
Sighing with what I hoped sounded like great reluctance, I trudged into her dressing room, closing the door hard behind me to show I wasn't happy. In all honesty, I couldn't help the giddiness that raced through me as I hung up the beautiful gowns on the hook on the wall. I took a moment to clean up the tangled mess of dresses Sam had left in a heap on the floor.
This time I did sigh for real. Sam and I shared many traits, but messiness was not one of them. I was perpetually neat and couldn't stand trampling through clothes on the floor.
Once I had Sam's discarded pile hung up on the proper hangers and right-side out, I placed them on the hook on the opposite wall. Finally, I turned to the lovely dresses waiting for me to try them on. I ran my fingers over the fine material, trying to decide which one to try on first. I chose a mint green one that looked like a dress I had seen in a movie, when I was younger.
After stripping down, I slid the dress over my head, adjusting it as it slid into place. I turned around and looked in the mirror. Ugh, the green material of the dress washed all the color from my face, making me resemble an asparagus. The bodice of the dress definitely called for someone more endowed than I was. I quickly jerked the dress off and reached for the next one. By the time I hit the fourth dress, I was ready to cry. Being flat chested was not a benefit when trying on dresses that called for humongo boobs.
"Krista, come on we want to see them," Sam said, knocking on my door.
"Forget it, I'm not going," I said, cracking the door open an inch. "You have to have some kind of Hooter's chest to wear any of these," I said, thrusting my discarded pile into her hands.
"Okay, I knew most of those were a no-go, but I wanted to give you a selection. Honestly, the only dress I want you to try on is the light pink one," she said, pointing to the last dress hanging on the now near empty hook. "Go on, try it on," she continued, pushing me back into the changing room. "And you better come out and show us."
I turned to the last of the dresses and dug out the light pink one that had enthralled Sam so much. There was no denying it was a beautiful dress, but the question was, would it remain beautiful on a ruler like me? I slid the satin dress over my head, relishing the feel of it on my skin. It was by far the softest piece of clothing I had ever tried on. The bottom of it swished softly against my ankles. I turned around with trepidation, hoping it looked half as good on me as it felt.
I was shocked when I saw my reflection in the mirror. I looked like I belonged in a different time period, waiting for my carriage and prince to show up. The lighting of the dressing room, which had made all the other dresses look harsh on me, seemed to enhance this one. The slight padding in the chest gave me the curves God had neglected to give me. The two inch shoulder straps held the dress in place and gave m
e the reassurance that the dress would not slip off. My favorite part, though, was the airy skirt that floated around my ankles.
Glancing one last time in the mirror to reassure myself that my eyes hadn’t played tricks on me, I opened the door slowly and stepped cautiously out. I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face as Sam and Lynn squealed in delight.
Grinning more broadly, I joined them at the trio of mirrors and once again was amazed at how the dress seemed to have transformed me.
"You look beautiful," Lynn said, giving me a quick hug.
"Are you sure you don't want to go too?" I asked, suddenly completely on board with the whole prom thing.
"Ugh! No way. I didn't even go to my own prom. Why would I want to go to yours with kids I don’t even know? No offense."
Sam and I tried to protest, but we all had our painfully shy moments, and neither one of us would have relished the idea of spending an evening with a bunch of kids we didn’t know either. By the defiant look on Lynn's face, I knew there was no way we would change her mind.
Sam and I changed and paid for our gowns. After that, we hit the shoe department and in a short time, both of us found shoes to die for. Sam wanted to linger at the perfume counter, but Lynn had exceeded her shopping patience by then.
"Come on. We told the guys we would meet them in the food court over an hour ago and I don't know about you two, but I'm flippin' famished," she said, rubbing her flat belly.
At her words, my belly gave a resounding groan as if it understood. Laughing, we linked arms and headed off to join the guys that were supposed to be trying on tuxes, if they made it out of the game store, that is.
We reached the food court only to discover the guys were well on their way to gluttony. We spotted them first, but as if sensing us, they turned to watch us as we approached, anxious to be reunited.
