LEMNISCATE

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LEMNISCATE Page 8

by Jennifer Murgia


  Chapter Seventeen

  Before leaving school, Ryan passed me in the hall giving me a “knowing” nod, and although the plan had been mine, I felt shaky and scared. Friday had come all too quickly, ending a week I swore was going to pass as slowly as molasses because of Garreth’s absence. But Garreth had shown up in places I never could have foreseen and admittedly, my thoughts had been elsewhere.

  I passed Brynn’s hateful little posse, sans Brynn, and caught the tail end of yet another “Brynn bashing.”

  “She’s so secretive now,” Emily spoke candidly to Sage at their lockers, with little regard for eavesdroppers walking by. I rolled my eyes and headed out to the parking lot.

  I drove home in a trance, hands gripping the wheel, eyes staring blankly ahead. I was on auto-pilot, but ended up home in one piece. What happened on the football field played over and over in my mind. The whole incident had left me with a residual numbness. I sided neither with Garreth nor with Hadrian. Subconsciously, I must have been siding with myself, sticking with my original plan of leaving my two angels on the back burner and focusing on what I had to do tonight, to save myself from Brynn. And to not get caught doing it.

  It was obvious that Hadrian was going to be hanging around for a while and it was also obvious that Garreth had not changed for the better, both of which I had no control over. So, I resigned myself to the plan at hand of trying to appear normal while I ate with the enemy and then later still, when I would break into my mother’s boyfriend’s house to foil the enemy’s plan.

  My mother was still at work, although she would be leaving early to clean up and start the oh-so-original-pizza-topping-bar. After my stressful day, I decided to relax with a quick, warm bath before dinner. I filled the tub, still on auto-pilot, mesmerized by the swirling water at the base of the faucet, the steam billowing into humid clouds around my head. When the mirror fogged and the air was filmy, I turned the water off and let my robe slip to the floor. I stepped into the tub and lowered myself into the water, willing my muscles to unclench and relax. I closed my eyes and tried not to think of anything in particular. Just relax. Just me and the warm, soothing bathwater—at least for a little while.

  But my brain tingled—something I didn’t even know it could do. Before I realized what was happening, the steam cleared, letting me view a scene, a tangible vision of the one person I was trying to shield myself from. I saw Garreth as clear as day, hunched over in pain. Though my eyes raked over him I couldn’t detect any sort of wound or injury. And then I felt his pain. Internally. Seizing. Gripping. My insides clenched and released in spasmodic jerks. There were no words for what I was experiencing, and just as the strongest swell of distress washed through me, he faded under the shadow of a dark-winged being so overwhelming it blackened every space in my mind. My terror redirected itself as an unseen force grabbed me by the throat and pulled me under. Just as quickly as it had come on, it disappeared and I was left face down in the tub, pushing myself up. Water spewed from my mouth as I choked for air.

  I had died before, my subconscious reluctantly reliving the feeling, but this was different. This wasn’t dying by your own hand to save the one you loved. This was dark, blackened hate reveling in the fact that you could feel your loved one’s pain, leaving you helpless.

  Shakily, I managed to step out of the now chilled bathwater. My plush robe did nothing to calm the tremors coursing through my limbs and I sat down on the rug at the side of the tub, pulling myself into a little ball, trying to calm myself.

  Garreth, what is going on?

  Standing up, I leaned my weight against the cool porcelain of the pedestal sink and stared at my reflection in the fogged mirror. Lucifer was returning for Hadrian. I saw the urgency in his eyes that night in my room. Was it possible Lucifer was coming back for more than just his brother?

  Maybe Garreth doesn’t know this time? Maybe he’s totally oblivious to what’s happening. Maybe his humanity is erasing the guardian in him.

  By the time I felt sane enough to get ready and venture downstairs, my mother was walking through the back door. Four white pizza boxes balanced in her arms.

  “Grab this would you, sweetie?” she thrust her left wrist out so I could take her purse.

  She was overly cheerful, excited about the evening ahead, and for that alone I tried to hide the concern and fear still dwelling inside me.

  “Let’s get these pies into the oven. No one wants a cold dinner.” My mother was a bustling tornado, opening cupboards, stacking seasonings. She barked hilarious orders like a crazed drill sergeant . . . “Open the red peppers!” . . . “Oh, my gosh, napkins!” For a brief moment, the pain and fear I had witnessed like a prophetic dream slowly slipped to the back of my mind, allowing me time to breathe and enjoy a rare moment with my mom.

  Amid everything her cell phone vibrated and the preparations slowed. Her cheery voice confirmed that Nate was on the other end.

  “He’s on his way, but Brynn will be a few minutes late,” she volunteered to me, then turned her attention back to the plates that needed to be stacked and the candles that needed to be lit. “Hmm, and I was hoping Brynn could set up the toppings the way she wanted, since it was her idea.” Mom’s hand hovered over the selection of olives and paused. “Well, she can rearrange when she gets here.”

  “Why is Brynn going to be late?” the sound of her name spoken out loud suddenly made the smell of pizza unappetizing.

  My mom was still lost in thought, muttering to herself.

  “Mom? Why isn’t Brynn coming with Nate?” I said with a little more force.

  Looking up, she replied, “Oh, she’s just running a little behind. She took a bubble bath and lost track of the time.”

  My insides re-stiffened.

  That was too coincidental.

  Two hours later, my mother’s laughter was the only thing getting me through the evening. Seeing her eyes bright and sparkling with happiness, so full of admiration for Nate, her newfound other half, I almost felt guilty for going behind his back. But then I felt the hairs on my neck stand in warning, and I turned to find Brynn dissecting me from a distance like I was a loathsome little bug in need of squashing. My guilt quickly diminished. It was a feeling I had endured all evening, from the moment she sauntered into the house, all through dinner and even now. My stomach was hurting. I didn’t do well with tension, especially while eating weird pizza. It figured Brynn would play havoc with my digestive system, too, and I remembered there was one last can of ginger ale in the fridge. Maybe that would help.

  Brynn’s lip curled in disgust and I turned away, closed my eyes for the briefest of seconds and thought of Claire, who had been so different from someone like Brynn Hanson. The idea of Brynn somehow capable of entering my personal dreamscape, forcing me to see Claire plummet from the rooftop of a warehouse in the woods . . . I shivered.

  My thoughts involuntarily returned to this afternoon, when lavender bubble bath permeated my senses instead of pepperoni, and my angel suffered at the hands of something dark and unknown. I took a swig of my soda too quickly, feeling the bubbles stream down my throat before I could swallow and the choking, drowning sensation took me off guard once again.

  “Breathe much?” Brynn murmured from across the room, but I heard it loud and clear. As if she whispered the very words next to my ear.

  She stood and languidly stretched her arms over her head, boredom rolling off her in waves. The highlight of her evening was probably making me uncomfortable in my own home, and I cringed at her success. Without a word she marched into the foyer and plucked her coat from the metal hook on the coat stand.

  “Don’t stay out too late, okay?” Dr. Dean called from the living room sofa, where he and my mother were enjoying a near empty bottle of Merlot, her giggles growing increasingly hysterical. It was time to escape.

  “Not if I can help it,” Brynn mumbled under her breath. “Goodnight Ms. McNeel! Thanks so much for the pizza!” And then with a sickening smile flashed for my bene
fit, Brynn opened the door and let herself out of my house.

  I grabbed my own coat and followed her out onto the porch, my eyes darting in the direction I would soon be running off to, wondering if Ryan was already waiting for me or if he had chickened out at the last minute.

  “Don’t think you’re coming with me. Our little “family” soiree ends here and now. Got it?” Brynn adjusted the brown fur collar on her suede coat and pulled matching gloves onto her hands.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t do that. I was just wondering what I was missing.” Please don’t go home. Please don’t go home.

  “I’m sure you would love to know.”

  Without another word she pivoted on her heels and sashayed down the steps to the curb, leaving me alone and shivering on the porch. Her car’s engine hummed to life and I could see her gloved hand through the window, illuminated by the faint blue light of the dashboard as she fiddled with the buttons, knowing heat was warming her as my lips were turning blue. She gave a little wave, which I’m sure was accompanied by a smirk, although I couldn’t quite see it, and then drove off.

  I exhaled loudly, my breath pluming visibly before my face.

  Opening the front door, I stuck my head in. “Going out, Mom. Be back later.” I didn’t wait for an answer to bubble up from the giggles in the living room, and then I too ran down the steps and headed in the opposite direction.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brynn closed the door behind her. The lit candles flickered wildly, casting eerie shapes across the room. At last, she thought and a wicked little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

  Cradling the delicate cylinder in her hands, she breathed a sigh of satisfaction and popped open the silver lid on one end of the tube. The contents gently slid down the interior shaft and into her open hand, waiting to be unrolled.

  This has to mean something. It has to. Otherwise her stepfather wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to hide it. Finding the journal had been easy enough. After all, she made it a point to know of all the nooks and crannies in this big house. Once she opened it, however, she found herself confused and irritated. Page after page mentioned Teagan’s name, which only bewildered and frustrated her. But she was curious about one thing: reference to a sacred place secretly hidden deep within the woods. It promised strong spiritual connection, perhaps even magic, and described how people from long ago claimed to have contact with the angels.

  Magic. That was one promise that instantly caught Brynn’s eye. Everything else seemed boring. She carefully returned the book to its hiding place and placed her attention on the map. Her eyes gleamed brightly with the thought of finding this sacred place.

  Tingling with excitement, her finger traced the lines drawn on the map. Lines that led from what appeared to be a long winding road to a tiny church, because of the cross sketched above it. Clearly the map depicted trees. There were plenty of woods around here. She studied the paper, looking for any sort of landmark, but she was pretty sure she would be able to find it since the long road led to a river. There was a river just outside of town and a thick patch of woods about a mile or two inside the county line. That had to be it.

  Gathering the rest of her “treasures” she had worked so hard to get, Brynn created her altar in a neat little pile in the center of the floor and drew a black circle around it with sand.

  Black sand.

  The delicious thought had come to her at the last minute, and she marveled at herself. How appropriate that her mother had vacationed on the black volcanic beaches of Hawaii with Nate. This was one of the few keepsakes she had left of her mother, of happier times.

  All the more reason to use it, she thought to herself, forcing aside the tears stinging unexpectedly at the back of her throat. Besides, a Sharpie or crayon would only leave a nasty stain. Oh, but the stain I’m leaving can’t be seen with the eye, and she giggled nervously to herself.

  The candle’s flame whipped violently, as if an unseen breeze had stolen itself upon it, and Brynn felt the skin on the back of her neck tighten and prickle. She turned around slowly, a trifle fearful, but the wicked smile returned to her lips.

  She had never been one to favor a gamble. She was usually more ruthless than this, more direct, always in control of her calculated treachery and its ever-predictable outcome. To give up that power, even just this once was slightly nerve wracking for her, yet sweet in a sense. If this worked out the way she wanted, then she was more than willing to step aside. Especially relinquishing to one so experienced in such matters.

  Brynn drew a gasping breath into her lungs and steadied herself. From the corner of her eye she could see the door slowly swing open, revealing the dimly lit hallway just beyond its frame. The door suddenly slammed shut, encasing the room in an icy stillness. There was no turning back now and there was no way in hell she was going to look scared and unsure.

  Carefully, she set the map down inside the circle of sand and stepped aside, allowing the circle and offerings to take center stage, and then cocked her head to the side as if listening, knowing with a mesmerized gleam in her eye that the course of fate was about to change.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Psst,” Ryan whispered from behind a large spruce. “I could hear your sneakers slapping the sidewalk a mile away.”

  He emerged from his hiding spot and brushed the sleeves of his leather jacket.

  “I got here as fast as I could.” I leaned against a tree to catch my breath in the cold night air.

  “Isn’t your mom going to wonder why you didn’t take your car?” he asked as we started down the alley that would take us to the cul-de-sac of Whitman Street and the impeccable home of Dr. Nathaniel Dean. I couldn’t help sending up a silent prayer that Brynn had found her way to the party I tipped her off to instead of retreating back home.

  “It’ll be a wonder if she realizes I’m even gone.”

  Ryan shot me a quizzical look.

  I lifted my hand and tilted an invisible bottle toward my open mouth.

  All too quickly, Ryan got my point.

  “Besides, she won’t hear a car when I finally do go home and hopefully by then, Mr. Boyfriend will have left for the night and she’ll be lost in sleepy land.”

  “Sleepy land?” Again, another quizzical look was shot my way.

  “Whatever. Let’s just do this.”

  There was no moon as Ryan and I walked silently, concealed in the dark. This was definitely something I would never do alone, even if I had a guardian angel watching over me. At least, when I had one watching over me. Even now, despite Ryan’s company, I felt pretty alone.

  I tried not to think of Hadrian’s warning about Lucifer or my vision of Garreth in pain. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder if either one was watching over me right now. Even if Garreth was still capable, would he be concerned for my safety?

  I shook the unsettling thought from my head and tried to stay focused. I needed to find out if Brynn was up to something. Based on her history, my life might depend on it. And I needed to see the journal my mother told me about the other night. Ever since she let me in on Dr. Dean’s secret hobby, I hadn’t been able to get it out of my head. I needed to see what was written on those pages. Did he know about the secrets I was sworn to protect, the guardians, the markings? What if it was all there in black and white and the truth was beyond me now? Beyond the protective grasp of my tight little circle which included me, Garreth, Hadrian and Ryan.

  Luckily, we lived in a small, tight-knit neighborhood, so the back door to Dr. Dean’s house had been left unlocked. Slipping through the kitchen, we were as silent as mice. I had been here a few times with my mom but the rooms and halls certainly looked different in the dark.

  “It’s this way,” I motioned, and headed down a dimly lit hallway. I looked back at Ryan, who was lagging behind, looking all around.

  “Come on.” I whispered loudly.

  “This place is amazing. You sure this isn’t a hotel?” He had stopped to pick up a bronze sculpture. “And
why are you whispering if they’re not home?”

  His voice seemed to bounce off the walls, reminding me that we were up to no good.

  “I don’t know if they have housekeepers! Do you really think Dr. Dean dusts? Now put that down!”

  Ryan reluctantly set the statue back in its place. “Yeah, I’m sure Brynn gets on her hands and knees to scrub. I’d pay good money to see that.”

  Rolling my eyes at him, I proceeded down the hallway to the door at the end of the hall, led by mere instinct that this was the way to the doctor’s private study. I pushed open the oversized walnut door to find a lush wood-paneled office on the other side. The sheer opulence of the study took my breath away. Leather chairs, Tiffany lamps, ballister bookcases . . . the room was larger than my living room and looked like the inspiration for an Ethan Allen catalog.

  “Geez,” breathed Ryan. He did a complete 360, taking it all in. “If I could do my homework in here, I would definitely get all A’s.”

  “Right, let’s just start looking, okay?”

  “Hey, Teagan. If your mom marries the doc, you’ll be sitting pretty.”

  “Please don’t go there. You know as well as I do this glam is not my style, and I would have to share it with you-know-who.”

  My fingers felt for the thin pewter chain beneath the shade of the desk lamp. With a tug, the light glowed steadily, revealing an intricate reversed painting on the inside of the glass shade. Beautiful winged angels floated in a gray-blue sky, hovering over a dark lake full of hands reaching for the heavens. Why would a medical doctor have a lamp like this? I shivered and began searching the desk while Ryan headed for the bookcases. I felt so nervous, my forehead was beginning to feel damp. The sooner we found the journal, the better.

  “Someone’s been here . . .” Ryan sniffed the air like a bloodhound.

  I smelled it too, a soft lavender-vanilla scent was still faint within the room.

  “Brynn?” Ryan asked.

 

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