Catch Me When I Fall

by Vicki Leigh

  “Oh my god, no way. Is that the Eiffel Tower?” Kayla pointed across the river, her eyes wide with excitement, and her mouth open in surprise. Strategically placed lights lit up the monument, creating a beautiful painting against the dark, starry sky.

  “Yep.”

  “Oh, this is so cool.” She turned to look at me, a huge grin on her face. “Can we see it after we eat?”

  “From a distance. It’ll be too late to tour once we’re done, but I’ll get you as close as possible.”

  Before either of us could say anything else, the waiter stopped to fill our water goblets and take our orders. I ordered us both braised duck and chocolate custard for dessert.

  The waiter nodded. “Comme vous voudrez, monsieur.” He left our table without another word.

  Kayla stared at me, her mouth open. “You speak French?”

  “And a few others.” I sipped on my water.

  “You didn’t order me anything gross, did you?”

  “No. It’s one of their specialties. You’ll like it.” Then a thought popped into my head. “You’re not a vegetarian, right?”

  Kayla shook her head, and my worry disappeared.

  “Good. Sort of forgot to ask.”

  “Jeez, Daniel. So inconsiderate.” She smiled.

  I shook my head as a corner of my mouth rose. Kayla took a sip of her water and stared out the window again. She sat like that for a while, taking in the sights. But I had seen them a hundred times. Instead, I watched her—the way her eyes followed the people walking up and down the street; the way her lips seemed stuck in a peaceful smile; the way her hair fell over her shoulder into her breasts. But mostly, I watched the way she looked so happy. She was a totally different girl from the one I met in the asylum. Providing her with a chance to escape felt amazing.

  When our food appeared, she turned her attention away from the sights of Paris. “So, tell me a little more about yourself, Daniel. I feel like you know everything about me, and I know nothing about you.”

  “What do you want to know?”

  Kayla shrugged. “Did you play sports when you were a kid? An instrument? Did you have any brothers or sisters? A job?”

  “That’s a lot of questions,” I replied with a smile.

  “Well, then how about your brothers and sisters. Did you have any?”

  I nodded. “Three brothers and two sisters. I was second born after my eldest brother, James.”

  “And, what did you do for a living? You know, before the war.”

  I took another bite before responding. “Well, first you must know that our lives back then were very different from how lives are today. I was an Earl’s son. So my life consisted of a lot of lessons about politics, economics, languages… Really, we were all thought of as pawns in my father’s game to gain wealth and friendship with the king, nothing more.”

  Kayla frowned. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.”

  She took a bite of food before continuing. “And hobbies—did you have any?”

  “Aside from playing War in the yard with my brothers, not really.”

  “Oh, come on. You had to have done something in your spare time.” She took a bite of food and stared at me, waiting for an answer. But, what could I say when my entire life consisted of preparing to run the estate in the event Dad and James died, or wooing girls into my bedroom for one-night stands because “experience” was something society expected of a nobleman?

  “When I was alive, there wasn’t really such a thing as ‘downtime.’ There was always someone to impress or some lesson to complete—mathematics, Latin, sword fighting. Horseback riding I could maybe consider a pastime. But since I died, I’ve learned to play piano, and I’ve found books to be a great outlet. You play music, too, right?”

  Kayla frowned. “I did.” She played with the food on her plate.

  I wasn’t going to let her close up. “Tabbi said you play violin.”

  “Not for a while. I actually got recruited to Julliard last year, when I was fifteen. My father founded this music society for poor kids, and it was through a concert there that one of their scouts heard me. But I don’t know if I’m going.”

  “Julliard’s a great university. Though the life you live should be your own. If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”

  Kayla stared at me, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You don’t think I should go to Julliard?”

  I shrugged. “Not if it wouldn’t make you happy. I had no choice when I was growing up. My life was planned from the day I was born. Get a job in politics. Court a rich woman. I would’ve given anything to be something other than an Earl’s son.”

  Kayla frowned. “So, you were married once?”

  “Promised, but not married. My father had my marriage planned since I was ten. But then, when I was seventeen, I went away to war and, well, never came home.”

  She nodded as she took another bite of her duck. She tried to hide her feelings, but I saw the jealousy in her eyes. I couldn’t make up my mind if it thrilled me or bothered me.

  “I didn’t love her, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

  Kayla bit her lip and set her fork on her plate to stare at me. “Am I really that obvious?”

  “No. I’m just good at reading people.”

  “Well, quit.” Her eyes flicked from me to her plate a few times before she stuck another bite of food into her mouth.

  I smiled.

  We finished our dinners, talking about our childhoods. I shared stories about my time as a Dreamcatcher, especially the hilarious ones that involved Seth or Tabbi, including the time Seth got so drunk, he’d popped in on the Pope, pretending to be the ghost of Christmas future. The Pope hadn’t been very happy about that.

  When we finished our desserts and I’d paid for our meals, I stood and held a hand out to Kayla. It was nearing eleven o’clock in Paris. “Want to get closer to the Eiffel Tower?”

  She took my hand with a huge grin. “Yes, please.”

  Keeping her hand in mine, I led her from the restaurant and into the cool air. We walked a little further down the street until I was sure no one was watching, then I took both her hands in mine and evaporated us to a rooftop directly across from the Tower.

  “Wow. It’s so incredible up close,” Kayla said.

  “I came here a few times by myself whenever I needed to clear my head. There are few places on Earth better than this.”

  Kayla’s eyes were wide with wonder as she looked around the city. I handed her my blazer when she began to shiver and waited for the clock to strike eleven. And when it did, I couldn’t have imagined a better response. Kayla’s mouth opened in awe as the lights on the Eiffel Tower blinked in different colors to the sound of music. She squeezed my hand tighter.

  “Daniel, this is amazing! Oh my god, it’s beautiful.”

  “I know,” I said without taking my eyes off her. The lights sparkled in her hazel eyes, and her face was lit up in happiness, as bright as one of the lights on the Tower. Dimples formed in her cheeks, she was smiling so big. She really was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

  Kayla looked at me, her eyes full of passion and wonder. I couldn’t help myself and leaned toward her, slowly, expecting her to turn away. But instead, she kept her eyes locked with mine and lifted her chin. I cupped her cheek with my free hand and kissed her lips gently. Then I kissed her again, deeper this time. Electricity pulsed through me as Kayla grabbed hold of my arm with her free hand.

  Stepping back, I looked into her eyes. “Thank you for an incredible evening.”

  “I think I’m the one that’s supposed to be thanking you.”

  I smiled, but then the hairs rose on my arms. Out of the corner of my eye, a black blur flew past us to the other side of the roof, hidden behind the massive chimney. Whatever was out there, it was much too fast to be human. “Wait here.”

  Kayla’s face paled as I stepped back from her. “Daniel?”


  “I’ll be right back.” I held up a hand and walked slowly in the direction the blur had gone. Peeking around the side of the chimney, I froze when a black, wispy shape turned to face me. A wraith—a spirit that’d been around so long its connection to this world had completely severed, rendering it dangerous and evil. Wraiths sought out spirits—their touch was lethal, including to those with a virtuous purpose like Protectors—and destroyed everything, living or dead, in their path. I had seen one only once before, and then the wraith had been wandering aimlessly down the Rhine. This one stared right at me, as if targeting me.

  Then, from the shadows stepped a man. He wore a black cloak, preventing me from seeing his face. He spoke in Latin. “Occidere eum.”

  Kill him.

  In a split second, the wraith charged toward me, its wispy body floating over the rooftop. Oh shit. Praying I was faster, I spun around and sprinted back to Kayla. Seeing what I was running from, she ran at me. “Daniel!”

  I barreled into her, wrapping my arms around her, and evaporated to my apartment. We hit the floor with a thud, Kayla’s body landing on top of mine. Any other time I would have enjoyed her lying on top of me, but right now, I needed to keep her safe. There was no doubt in my mind that man controlling the wraith was a warlock—and that wraith had latched onto my signal. We had minutes before the spirit tracked me back here, and only a few minutes more until the warlock arrived.

  Expecting to see Seth, I swore when he wasn’t here. His backup would’ve been great right now.

  Kayla climbed off me. “What was that thing?”

  I jumped up from the floor and dragged her to the bathroom. “I promise I will explain everything, but right now, you need to stay in here. Close the door and do not come out until I tell you to. Understand?”

  She nodded, her arms wrapped around her stomach. I touched her cheek then ran to my bedroom and threw my dress shirt on the bed, leaving me in nothing but the brace, a T-shirt and jeans. I needed as much mobility as I could get.

  After tying my weapon belt around my waist, I entered my living room and stood on high alert, waiting for the first sign that the wraith had followed my signal.

  “Come on, come on.”

  A second later, the wraith popped out of the floor in the exact place we landed. I threw my dagger at the phantom, but it was too quick. The wraith jumped out of the way and crashed into my television. It used each piece of furniture like a stepping-stone to hop around my living room, knocking objects over in its path. I watched the spirit’s pattern, trying to determine when to strike. When it was poised over my sofa, I threw my other blade.

  The knife nicked its side. Bugger. The wraith hissed then charged. I dodged the phantom’s attack just in time and ran around the sofa to grab my dagger. Our daggers were the only things that could kill spirits. With the blade in my hand, I turned around to strike back. But the wraith charged again before I had a chance to throw. I knew what I had to do if I was going to get Kayla out of here safely.

  The second the wraith followed me here, the warlock would’ve performed a spell to determine our location. It wouldn’t be long before the warlock found us, and I definitely didn’t want to fight him. I needed to sever their connection now.

  When the wraith closed the gap, I lunged. My blade found its mark, hitting the phantom in the very center of its body—but not without a price. In the mere seconds my arm was inside the wispy body, my skin melted like it had been drowned in acid. My shout of pain was muffled only by the cries of the wraith.

  Letting the blade go, I snatched my arm out before falling to my knees. I tore off my T-shirt and, with a growl of pain, wrapped my forearm in the fabric, both to protect my wound and to keep Kayla from seeing it. Getting to Bartholomew was imperative—the wraith’s poison was already moving fast within my veins. But first, I needed to get Kayla home.

  I stood and sprinted to the bathroom door, knocking, then leaned against the frame. The pain in my arm was making me loopy, as was the wraith’s poison.

  “Kayla, you can open the door.”

  The door flung open, and Kayla appeared on the other side, her face red. “Care to tell me what’s going on now? Because I’m freaked. All I hear is your apartment being destroyed, and then you scream.”

  “It was a wraith, but I killed it. You don’t have anything to worry about.” My knees shook and blackness framed my sight. I gripped the doorway.

  Kayla looked me up and down, as if she could tell there was something off about me. “Oh my god. Daniel, your arm. You’ve lost so much blood.” She tried reaching for my arm, but I pulled back.

  “Give me your hands. I have to get you home.”

  Kayla took my face in her hands. “Daniel, no. You’re hurt. I can take you to my mom. She can treat you.”

  I shook my head and pushed her hands away, trying to tell her I was fine, but the words didn’t come out. Instead, my knees buckled, and I fell into her, blacking out before we hit the floor.

  awoke in one of Bartholomew’s hospital beds and closed my eyes tight as bright lights above the bed blinded me. With gauze wrapped from fingertips to elbow, my right arm felt like it weighed one hundred pounds. I tried to sit up, but my head exploded with pain, like someone had set off dynamite in my skull. Lying back down, I covered my eyes with my good arm.

  How had I gotten here? Did someone get Kayla home safely? God, she had to be terrified. What I had planned as a romantic evening to help her escape from her fears turned into something out of a blooming horror movie. I needed to find out what happened to her.

  T.N.T. detonated in my head when I sat up. Gripping the edges of the bed, I inhaled deeply, trying not to vomit. The door to my room opened, and Bartholomew walked in carrying a large, glass jar full of dark, green liquid.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.

  “Kayla. I need to make sure she’s safe.”

  Bartholomew set the jar on the end table next to the bed and held up a hand. “She’s fine. She’s here. Tabbi is with her.”

  “She’s here?”

  He nodded. “She refused to leave. Was quite belligerent, to tell you the truth. But once I unwrapped your arm, she fainted. I had Tabbi take her to my study and keep her there until you woke.”

  I hated that she had to see me like this. But Kayla was safe. Bartholomew might as well finish his work before I went in search of her. I leaned against the wall behind me, and he removed the gauze from my arm. Though, he might as well have been ripping off my skin inch by inch. Only breathing through my nose kept me from crying out.

  Bartholomew used a paintbrush to spread thick, green liquid on my burn, and the pain subsided in seconds. “You’re lucky I had enough antidote prepared. What on earth possessed you to stick your arm through a wraith, Daniel?”

  “It was set on me like an attack dog. I had to dispose of it before the guy controlling the thing could pinpoint its location. I had no choice.”

  “How do you know someone was controlling it? The wraith could’ve been just a rogue that felt threatened by you.”

  “Someone stepped out of the shadows right before the attack. He spoke Latin. Occidere eum.”

  The paintbrush stopped moving. Bartholomew locked eyes with me. “A warlock?”

  I nodded. “He was looking right at the wraith when he spoke.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “I don’t know. He was in a hooded cape, so I couldn’t tell. But the wraith stared at me before it attacked. I’m certain the warlock set him on me.”

  “Where did this happen?”

  “Paris. I was there with Kayla.”

  Bartholomew finished applying the salve in silence. He threw the paintbrush in the rubbish and closed the lid on the jar before rewrapping my forearm with fresh gauze. His quietness unnerved me.

  “Is it common for a warlock to be able to command a wraith?” I knew they were capable of some pretty dark stuff, but I’d never seen this done before.

  Bartholomew n
odded. “A wraith has no ties to this world, no ties to the afterlife. They have no master to serve. Many warlocks would be capable of controlling them. But what I want to know is why a warlock would want you dead.”

  He did have a point. I’d never made a habit of associating with the Magus. Most of the time, witches and warlocks freaked me out. So why would one be interested in me?

  Bartholomew gave me another shot of his painkiller-slash-healing-serum and handed me a shirt. “Daniel, I will ask you again, and I want you to be absolutely honest with me. This Kayla girl, are you sure you haven’t noticed anything different about her?”

  I frowned. Last time he’d asked, I hadn’t known for sure. But now… “Actually, yeah. Tabbi believes Kayla really did burn her mother’s boyfriend with her bare hands. And she can see through the veil.”

  Bartholomew’s dark eyes grew so large, I thought they were going to pop out of his head. “Oh. Well.” He scratched his black beard. “That’s… very interesting. I will look into this.”

  I was about to ask him what Kayla had to do with any of this when he left me to stew in my thoughts. Again.

  Tabbi and Kayla sat on the plaid sofa in Bartholomew’s study when I entered. Both of their heads popped up at the sound of my boots clonking on the study’s hardwood floor. The tense lines in their faces softened almost instantly.

  “Daniel!” Kayla jumped off the sofa and ran to me. She flung her arms around my neck and hugged me. “I wanted to come see you, but Tabbi kept popping up in front of me when I tried to escape.”

  Wrapping my good arm around her, I pulled her tight, smiling softly at the mental picture of Tabbi hopping around the room, disappearing and reappearing with a grin on her face. Her personality always had matched the color of her red locks. When Tabbi reached us, I tousled her hair. “Thanks for staying with her.”