“I think that I smell like whatever will calm and relax you. I don't have control over it. You,” he says each word between warm whispers on my neck, “smell, like, Honeysuckle and, Jasmine.” His voice is sultry, and his breath ignites flames under my skin.
“I'm scared Elijah. I don't want to lose you.”
“I know. I don't know what's going to happen either. We Keepers have maintained our secrecy from humans for centuries. I don't know how you were able to read my journal either. This whole thing is strange. There are so many things that don't add up Bren. I wish they would give me more answers. They won’t even let me find out who your mother is. I want you to take my journal, if anything happens to me at least you'll have that to remember me by.” He walks over to his desk and takes the book up, wrapping the cord around it again. There were so many entries. The book is thick with his... our history.
“No, I won't let them kill you because I found out your secret. If they harm you then I will refuse to live out their destiny. They can't force me to become president.”
“I cannot die, but I can be cast out which is a fate far worse than death. You can't outsmart them Bren, they have ways of getting what they want. They could just dangle my life in the kingdom in front of you until you comply. Come let’s get you home, it’s safer there.” He swallows the last bit of wine in his glass and scoops me from the couch and carries me all the way to my door. The moon is high in the sky already; it cast a glow on his face that deems him all the more worthy of an ethereal world.
“I don't know what is going to happen to you Brennen. However, my biggest fear is that they take your life. I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen. I believe you are too valuable for them to turn back now. Their stakes are too high. But don't be afraid for me, I have lived a long and full life and if I am punished tonight, I want you to know that it was all worth it.”
“When will we know?”
“I don't know, frankly, I'm astonished I'm still here with you.”
“Will you stay?” I ask, as he eases my body down inside my doorway. He looks uncertain but I see the moment the ephemeral look sets his sapphire eyes ablaze. Those crystal clear eyes open into an idyllic world where I can see his unyielding love for me all the way down to his soul.
He follows me inside and I place the journal inside of my dresser for safe keeping. I lead him out to my catwalk.
“Why does it have to be this way Elijah? Has this ever happened before?”
“I don’t know the answer to either Brennen.” I stare out into the shoreline and he pulls me in close to his chest. The night seems so normal compared to what is happening here between the two of us. Not knowing what tomorrow will bring, we cling to each other like frightened children.
“What fate brings us, rest entirely in their hands. I need you to know that I don’t regret a single moment of my time with you.” I know he is saying goodbye but I won’t think about that right now. I just draw his head near me and he closes the gap with a steel embrace. His scent, his body, and his unsteady heartbeat all swirl together, sweeping me up into one rapturous epiphany: This glorious man was meant for me. He takes my hand and leads me to bed. He lies next to me on top of the covers, wrapping his arm around me.
“Goodnight Brennen, I love you.”
“I love you too, Elijah?”
“Yes?”
“Pray with me.” We close our eyes and press our foreheads together and whisper. “Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep, if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” I know it’s a silly child's rhyme but the words seem fitting. He continues in an inaudible mumble for another minute.
“I love you.” I murmur softly. He buries his nose in my neck and inhales releasing a deep sigh.
“And I love you,” he says finally.
***
I am so exhausted I think I'll just close my eyes for a second, but when I open them the sun is streaming through my curtains. Ugh, morning came too soon. I blink rapidly, noticing that for the first time since the accident I didn't have the dream. I reach over for Elijah but he isn't there. I feel panicked all of a sudden.
“Brennen you have to get out of the house,” I hear a strange voice say. Who the hell said that? The air smells weird. “Get out now, Brennen run!” The voice says again, louder this time. It startles me right out of bed. I realize that it’s not sunlight streaming through my window. My house is on fire. The smoke along the ceiling is pooling in eerie swirls. The wall outside my window is incinerating. Shit! No, this is not happening!
“Elijah?” I cry out. I check the restroom and find it empty. “Elijah?” I run down the stairs in my socks, almost slipping halfway down. My heart is pounding. Please be in the kitchen cooking me breakfast, even though it’s not morning. I turn the corner grabbing the column for anchorage. He isn't in the house. I bolt out the back door into the night, and I run to his house. I find his back door is wide open, although I distinctly remember him closing it behind us. “Elijah!” I search his house and find it empty. He's gone. They’ve taken him, whoever they are, all because I was too stupid to trust him.
The journal, no, no, no! I have to get it. It's all I have left. I run back to my house and through the back door. There is smoke everywhere now. The alarms are all going crazy, the phone is ringing. The alarm company will be sending help. I dash up the stairs, the flames are growing larger, and the heat up here is staggering, suffocating. I begin to choke. I crawl to my door and grab a dirty t-shirt off the floor to cover my mouth and nose. I make my way over to my dresser. I can't even see through the smoke and it’s burning my eyes. I feel around for the book and can't find it. Greif overcomes sanity and part of me just wants to curl up back in bed and let destiny play itself out. I search the drawer once more and feel the soft leather bound book in the very back. My fingers caress it before pulling it out. I hug it to me, fighting off another coughing fit. No, not my house! I grab my cell phone and make my way out of my room with haste. I make it to the stairs and I can just begin to hear sirens in the back ground.
Half way down the stairs I am gasping for air. I feel exhausted. I just need to rest a minute. I hang on to the iron railing and try and catch a breath. I make it down a few more stairs. I can't pass out. I have to keep the book safe. I crawl down the rest of the way. The back door looks a million miles away. The sirens sound like they are right outside. My eyelids are so heavy and my arms weighted with lead. My face slides along the plush rug as if it were the most comfortable bed in town. Why Elijah? Why did they take you from me? I will sleep here and dream of your kiss for all of eternity. My eyes close as the fog creeps in.
My eyes drift open as my front door is violently broken open. I can just make out the silhouette of a fireman in full uniform rushing towards me. He scoops me up in his arms and carries me to the fresh cool air outside. No! I don’t want to live in a world that he doesn’t exist in. I fight to climb over his shoulder but the struggle is weaker than the fight in my mind. He grips me firmly in his hands as I inhale a lungful of fresh sea air and end up coughing and sputtering. My throat burns as if I had tried drinking sandpaper. They put an oxygen mask on my face.
“Is there anyone else inside?” one of the firefighters asks me. I shake my head no. They stole him from me. The other fireman takes my pulse and puts a blanket around me.
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Of course not.” Like I could get hurt, no I am their valuable little asset. I grip the diary in my arms as if it were a life preserver. Flames lick the walls of my house. Water hoses shoot a jet of water on the roof try and quench its thirst. This was no accident; this was a warning, meant for me. Mess with us and we will burn you, like a spark to a dry brush. Elijah's words play in my head. “They have ways of getting what they want.”
Before I know it, half the town's emergency force is in my drive way. I am escorted to an ambulance that is waiting to take me to be treated for minor smoke inhalation. B
ut first the fire chief wants my statement. My hand is shaking involuntarily as I clench the blanket around me.
“So you were home alone when you woke up and saw the house was on fire. Is that correct?”
“Yes, I saw the flames out of my window and I got downstairs as fast as I could.” They didn't need to know I was stupid enough to get out of a burning home only to go back in for a second helping. I can't take my eyes off of the smoldering facade.
“The fire looks like it started right under your bedroom window. Do you have anyone who could be angry enough with you to do something like this?” I have a demonic flock of assassins waiting in the lurches, and I pissed off a whole bunch of Soul Keepers, hmm choices, choices. Which is to blame is a real toss-up.
“No one on earth,” I finally say. Well I guess that much is true. He goes through a few more questions and I tell him what he wants to know. When he asks where my parents are, I tell him my grandmother is spending the weekend with family and I will call her first thing in the morning. The fire is put out, and the doors to the ambulance shut, taking me away.
By the time they are done with me it is early morning. I call Emily to see if her mom wouldn't mind picking me up. Then she can get her car from my house. Killing two birds, with one whatever.
Emily and her mother are escorted to my bed. Emily wraps her arms around me.
“I am so glad you are okay Bren. Here, I brought you a change of clothes.” She hands me a small bag.
“Thank you Emily and Mrs. Reed. You have no idea how much it means to me for you to be able to come here and help me out like this.” Mrs. Reed is already holding her hand up.
“Brennen think nothing of it. We are always glad to help out a friend of Emily's. We are just so thankful you weren't hurt. And if you need a place to stay, our home is yours,” she offers with authentic sincerity. My home is still standing but I am certain it will be unlivable, at least for a while. I could stay in Elijah's house since it is now empty. I take the bag into the restroom to change. My pajamas reek of smoke and are stained with soot. What was I thinking? Emily's clothes hang off of me loosely, but I am thankful for them none the less. I wonder how my own closet fared.
Mrs. Reed drives Em and I back to my home. My jaw drops when I pull into the driveway. It is even worse than I thought. The sodden black ruins are a stark contrast to the cheery brightness of a new morning. My beautiful lighthouse is torched half way down, the catwalk is gone, and I can see inside my room from where I stand. I walk inside to look around. Emily's mom tells us to be careful. The kitchen looks pretty good, as well as the downstairs bedroom. I walk up the stairs to the landing and find the rugs soaked with water. The office is black with char and soot. The ceiling up here is burnt as well. In my room, the epicenter of the blaze, my mattress has been reduced to ashes. The wall is eaten away and windowless now. My dresser, the one I hid the journal in is burned beyond recognition.
Emily opens my closet doors. My clothes are drenched, and reek, they are not salvageable. The whole house smells horrible. I walk out of the room as the urge to vomit takes over. I squat down and hang on to the railing. Okay, just breathe I tell myself, it can be repaired. I am alive and no one was hurt and that is all that matters. Emily rubs my back.
“When do you expect your grandmother to return?” Mrs. Reed asks.
“She is on her way back now, she should arrive this afternoon,” I lie and Emily says nothing to contradict my words.
“Do you know where to find the home insurance information? You'll need to start making a list of everything damaged. You’ll need to get someone out here in the next day or two to board up the windows and patch the roof so you don't get any more damage,” Mrs. Reed says calmly, trying not to upset me further. I nod as I rise, ready to deal with the tasks at hand. I go into the attic and am relieved the fire didn't reach it. This half of the house seems to have gotten the least amount of damage. I carry down the box that had all of the information that I found out about the home when Elijah and I were searching for records of my birth.
“Thank you again for your help. I think I am going to take this next door and work on everything. Elijah's family had to leave town suddenly and asked me to house sit until they returned. But thank you again Mrs. Reed, for offering me a place to stay. You and your family are very kind.”
“You’re welcome Brennen and please be careful. Let us know if you need anything, anything at all. Okay?”
“Yes ma'am. Thank you both.” I take Emily's keys off the hook by the garage and return them to her. At least I still have my car. I see them to the door and lock up the house. I take the box and the journal next door.
First I call the insurance company and start the process. Then I call a local contractor and get someone to come out first thing tomorrow morning to assess what needs to be done and at least make emergency repairs. After spending the whole morning on the phone I am tired, hungry and in desperate need of a shower. Shower first, I open a dresser drawer in Elijah's bedroom and find rows of boxers neatly rolled and organized. These will have to do. I take a t-shirt as well and head to his bathroom. I lather up with his body wash, and sadness cascades over me. It smells like him, minus the chocolate. I think of his cookie comment last night and smile to myself. The smile fades in an instant; he's really gone now. What am I going to do? Quiet tears leave my eyes and get washed away by the spray of the shower. The world feels like it’s no longer spinning, like the sun and the moon are frozen in place, deficient of his magnetic fulcrum.
I turn off the water and pull his fluffy white towel around my body. My body is numb from loss, I no longer feel hungry, and I no longer feel tired. I feel only his absence and the emptiness in my soul expands infinitely. I dress in a daze and go outside, finding myself sitting on his porch swing with no memory of how I got there. I listen to the wind caressing mellifluous sounds from his bamboo chimes, mingled with the inexorable waves of the ocean and fall fast asleep on the swing.
“Brennen?” I hear Sam's voice call my name. I sit up from the swing still feeling lifeless and groggy. “There you are, I called Emily and she told me I could find you here, I was worried when I couldn't reach you. I am so sorry about your house. Are you okay?” He takes a seat on the swing with me. I try and blink back the sleep and stretch my torso to get my blood going again. I let out a sleepy yawn in the process.
“Sorry I must have dozed off out here and left my phone inside.” The rest was something my body needed to heal itself, if only just to begin the clotting process on my wounded heart.
“Can I get you anything?” he offers. Oh why does he have to be so nice? I feel horrible for what I did to him last night, even though I didn’t actually do anything. Although, there was definitely nuzzling and deep-seated longing involved. He doesn’t deserve such cruel indignation. And now, now that I know without a doubt that I love Elijah, I can't pretend that what I feel for Sam will ever amount to anything more than a deep friendship. My wound has reopened with fresh pain wincing through in striations. I release his hold on my hands and go inside.
“I think I am going to make some coffee would you like some?” I say without turning back to him.
“Uh sure, I'll take a cup, thanks.” I need to tell him it’s over. I just can't bring myself to do it today. I've dealt with enough in the last twenty-four hours. Hell in the last seventeen years for that matter. Anymore heartache today will be the end of me for sure.
I put on a normal face before emerging from the pantry in search of the coffee grounds and finally find whole beans in the freezer. Great, it takes me ten minutes to locate the grinder and filters. I hit the brew button, and listen with relief as the coffee begins to percolate.
“So what happened, do they think it was arson?” Sam asks while he leans against the fridge.
“Yes but they are still investigating.”
“And Elijah just happens to leave town the same night. Do they know that?” His words come as an accusation and my fingers twitch, urging to slap the s
hit out of him. Just the mention of his name being evoked lacerates fresh wounds on my heart.
“Elijah had nothing to do with the fire. He was long gone when it happened,” I say with an edge to my voice.
“Sorry I just found it a bit odd last night that soon after you left the dance, Elijah was nowhere to be found either. Peyton is convinced the two of you have something going on.”
“Sam please, let’s not do this right now. I have had a lot to deal with today and frankly I'm exhausted.” I pour myself a cup and one for Sam too. He averts his eyes from me and takes his cup, walking out of the kitchen. Great, I've hurt his feelings. By not denying it I’ve confirmed it. I don’t want to tell anymore lies though, Sam has done nothing wrong. There is not going to be an easy way out of this I can see. I join him in the living room and we drink our coffee in silence. After a while Sam stands up.
“I guess I'd better go home now. I'm sorry I lost my temper with you Brennen. I just care about you so much. I wish you would just talk to me.” He exits the front door without so much as a glance over his shoulder. This house feels dead, only the quiet drone of the refrigerator disrupts the silence.
I take the journal to Elijah's bedroom. I find one of his t-shirts in the hamper. His scent lingers on it and I change into it. The warm fragrance of chocolate mixed with his cologne wafts up through the neck. I inhale its addictive aroma as a trail of butterflies spiral into my stomach. God, how can he have this effect on me without even being present? I settle under his sheet and find a random journal entry near the back of the book.
~ July 17, 2012 Journal of E.M~
I know this summer has been hard on you. I wish there was a way I could bring some happiness back into your life. You haven't smiled in weeks or laughed in months. The light in your eyes has gone away. I fear that you are taking your life for granted. Your dad wouldn't have wanted this life for you. I know your grandmother is not well, and she was your constant, your North Star. But you have so much more love to give. You could be surrounded by people who love and care about you if you would only give them a chance to. You haven’t laughed in a very long time. Your dad could make you laugh, maybe I can too one day.
My Soul to Keep (The Soul Keeper Series - Young Adult Paranormal Romance) Page 10
