***
I leave The Cliffs feeling like I just got off an unstable roller coaster.
“You have quite a family.” I tell Justice before I get into my car.
I can’t help but think about the peril my life was in before and compare it to the peril it’s in now. Either way, something out there is gunning for me. It’s frustrating; I would give anything to be normal, to find a place to fit in, a place where a collective constant is my life. Today made it clear that isn’t meant to be my lot in life.
“They are unique.” He agrees. “You’ll get used to it; you’re not in Kansas anymore Dorothy.”
“Isn’t it Toto?”
He thought for a second. “Your right, the dog fits better.”
I grimace at him.
“I’ll see you in the morning, be ready by ten; we have a long drive to Cross’ tomorrow.” He says as he closes my driver’s side door.
“Can’t wait.” I mutter under my breath.
“You know; you’re just going to have to get used to me being around.” He leans in close to my face, and I freeze. He smells so good, like fresh laundry.
“I don’t mind you being around,” I correct him. “Just please keep the dog insults to a minimum.”
He curves up the corners of his mouth, “I only meant that you were small.”
Riding in Cars with Boys
I rush to get ready.
I pull my honey-highlighted hair back into a ponytail and pray my eye cream channels Miracle Max. These bags are horrendous. I look like I haven’t slept in a hundred years.
My body still ached so I opted out of heals and decide on a pair of Puma’s instead. I have a funny feeling it’s going to be a long day. I spend way more time on my makeup than usual trying to rig the mangled mess my face has become.
I’m hurrying when an ear pleasing voice echoes through my apartment, causing me to nearly blind myself with the mascara wand, I have dangerously close to my pupil. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” I hiss.
“Sorry.” He feignedly apologizes, laughter dancing behind his lips.
I look ridiculous while he looks angelic in distressed jeans. His dark hair is pushed up into a spiky mess and his faceted eyes sparkle in the sunlight.
“How did you get in here anyway?” I ask as I carefully wipe away the black smudge that is splattered across my lid.
“Through the window of course.”
I glare at him with a raised eye brow “I live on the 3rd floor”
“So,” he shrugs, like what’s the big deal.
“I have neighbors, aren’t you worried someone saw you?”
“No.” He snickers. “But if my way of entry bothers you so much you’ll just have to make me a key.” He says pining over a finger nail.
“What’s wrong with using the doorbell?”
“I don’t like waiting.”
“Don’t you think that’s moving our relationship a little fast?” I ask lightly, trying to salvage what’s left of the mascara massacre.
“I’m partial to fast.” He says with a subtle gleam in his eye.
I unconsciously wipe the black smudge a bit more frantic in a knee-jerk reaction to his reply.
Justice waits as I finish getting ready, he doesn’t seem too annoyed by lateness. There are no impaling judgmental looks this morning or nasty tones, and I am more than grateful for that.
I can’t help but spy on him from the bathroom as he investigates every inch of my room, picking up anything that isn’t nailed down and touching everything that is. My small trinkets seem to fascinate him. I watch as he examines the eyelash curler, smells my perfume, and thumbs through the stack of magazines on my nightstand. He seems to find my pink toe shoes, especially intriguing. He carefully runs his fingers down the satin ribbons hanging on the wall. I wonder what he finds so interesting.
“So who is this Cross guy we’re going to see?” My voice echoes in the bathroom.
“One of Daniel’s oldest friends.” Justice answers with an edge. “We call him a Snitch.”
“Not one of your favorite people I take it?” I peer out at him through the doorway. “What exactly is a Snitch?”
“He’s like an Oracle of sorts. Cross analyzes a person’s present circumstances by invading all of their pasts.”
“Sounds like it hurts.”
“Only your ego.” He says still fixated on the ribbon.
“What’s that supposed mean?”
“You’ll see.”
“You’re not going to give me any kind of preemptive warning?”
“I just did.” He looks over at me.
I hate it when he’s cryptic.
I stare up at him after I throw my purse over my shoulder.
“What?” He asks.
“I’m ready.” I answer.
“Oh, why didn’t you say so?”
“I just did.” I smirk.
He glares at me.
I half expect him to walk towards the window. However, he drifts to the front door instead.
“This might sound like a weird question but do you have any idea where my pants went?” I ask as I lock the door behind us. “I can’t find them anywhere; they were my favorite pair.”
His body instantly freezes and his expression becomes vacant, like he pressed the off button on the tendons connecting the muscles in his face.
“They’re in the garbage.” He says with no inflection.
“The garbage! Why!” I run back into the apartment and into the kitchen to fish them out.
I pull my favorite pair of jeans out of the trash to find they have been beaten to death. Black scum is all down the right leg and a huge purple stain is on the left thigh.
“Oh no.” I look at them horrified.
“I didn’t want to put you to bed in them; they even grossed me out.” He said from behind me.
A realization hit.
“You took them off me?” My cheeks flush three shades of red as I imagine the mental picture. Me, lifeless, covered in scum, being undressed by the most striking being on the face of the earth.
“Well you were in no condition…” he said uncomfortably.
I drew in a deep breath and shut my eyes totally humiliated.
“Besides, I had to make sure you weren’t bleeding anywhere.”
I don’t have any other war wounds then the one on my shoulder.
“Where did the blood come from if it isn’t mine?”
“Not sure.” He said and left it at that.
You’ve got to be kidding me, I thought to myself, as I dropped the two hundred and twenty dollar pair of jeans back into the garbage. I shook my head mournfully “Tragedy.”
We leave my apartment and walk out into the summer air; it’s hot and stifling. The baking sun beats down on my face making my skin feel uncomfortable. I pull out a pair of sunglasses from my Marc Jacobs to help with my vision. Without warning Justice shoves a shiny black object in my face. It confuses me at first, and then I realize what he’s suggesting.
I grimace.
"Um, I don't do two wheels." I inform him eyeing up the blue monster from behind my lenses. Sorry. I’m all for fast and furious, but I’d much prefer hitting hyper speeds with some kind of metal around me, even if it is just doors.
“What do you mean?” He pulls his perfect eyebrows together.
Oh no, there’s that disapproving, judgmental look again. I’m beginning to think it’s the only other facial expression he has besides stone cold.
“Well how do you suggest we get there then?” He asks snidely.
“I have a car,” I rifle through my bag and swiftly pull out my keys, jingling them in my hand. “Besides, the skies don't look that forgiving, I would hate to get caught in the rain.”
Overhead, the sunny blue sky only stretches so far. In the distance, silvery rain clouds are rolling in distinctly drawing a grey stormy line over Red River.
“Fine.” He mutters his favorite word. Annoyed, he dismounts his bike and lifts the se
at. With one hand, he pulls out a black sheet and covers the bike in a fluid m motion.
“Ok, let’s go.” He walks impassively past me.
“Wow, cool trick.” I’m impressed.
He ignores me imperviously.
I hurry to catch up, his strides double mine. We are close to my car when he abruptly blocks me in the middle of the sidewalk, sandwiching himself between me and my G. Without warning, he moves in close invading my personal space. I can’t figure out what he’s doing for the life of me, but I’m sure about one thing; I like his proximity. When he looks down, I freeze, as if the facets in his eyes have the power to immobilize me. As he leans forward, his fresh linen scent surrounds me. It’s soft, but powerful. Then I feel the velvety warmth of his skin glide down my forearm. It reaches to my wrist and pulls at my hand. He fingers my key ring, and then it slips quickly away of my grip.
“I'm driving.” He says, his sweet scent scathing across my face.
At that moment, he could have said we were taking a trip around the world on a tricycle, and I would have agreed. I just hope I’m not drooling.
I fidget in the passenger’s seat. I’m not sure I like the idea of being chauffeured around in my own car. I’ll admit I’m a control freak like that. I play with the radio trying to distract myself from the angelic creature sitting beside me. It’s difficult to collect my thoughts; his scent overpowers the searing airless car. The upshot is so potent it feels as if he hot-boxed the car with an illegal substance. It invades me, and I am more than willing to let it. My breaths start to elongate, and my thoughts become sluggish.
I have to fight it, how would that look if I fell into a coma?
I crack my window and quickly suck in the dry untainted air.
My thoughts compose.
“Is it too hot in here?” He reaches to adjust the temperature.
“No it’s fine; I just need a little fresh air.” I lie.
“We can put the top down if you want.”
“No way,” I shake my head in an inebriated protest “It’s like ninety five degrees outside.”
“I can adjust.” He assures me.
“Adjust? What? Are you like a walking thermostat or something?” I ask shifting around lazily.
“Or something.” He says perfectly serious.
“Want to elaborate?” I move my eyes to him, leaving my body contently in place.
He gazes over at me, “I can adjust my body temperature to any environment. It is incredibly convenient, not to mention environmentally friendly” he smirks. “We don’t even need heat or air conditioning in the house.”
“You must save a ton on your electric bill.” I comment, considering he lives in a house the size of a small castle.
I try not to let my eyes wander as he drives, but Justice is like looking at a car crash on the side of the road, I just can’t help myself. His skin is so luminous in the sunlight, and the lines on his face are drawn so perfectly it’s as if he was someone’s divine creation.
I try to occupy my mind on things passing by in the window now that my thoughts are back to a normal speed. Really, I’m trying, but I have so many questions, the only problem I is; I’m afraid to ask them. And I’m sure he doesn’t want an inquisition on his life, or is it un-life?
I decide to throw caution to the wind; I am never going to find out what I want to know unless I suck it up and ask.
Here goes.
“So…do you like put a box of fabric softener sheets in the dryer every time you do laundry or something?" I blurt out.
That is my brilliant opening.
“What?” He shoots me a puzzled look.
“You smell like a walking box of Bounty to me.”
“No,” he replies like I’m crazy, eyeing back and forth between me and the road.
“Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know? I’m curious I guess.”
That statement barely covers it.
“I suppose you are.” He considers.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“No.” He answers impassively. His eyes continuously sweeping. “Go ahead, ask. We have an hour and a half to kill.”
“What exactly did you mean when you said you were like me only different?”
“Just that we share the same magic, but just use it differently.”
“Like having the ability to carry on private conversations?” I poke.
He glares over at me cautiously. “You knew?”
“It was kind of hard not to; you’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to notice something was going on behind the scenes.”
The corner of his mouth curves up slightly. “Yes, we have private conversations. It’s a multifunctional talent for us. We use it while hunting, mainly, but it can come in handy other ways.” He makes a sly face. “It only works if we’re within a few miles of each other, then we lose frequency.”
“But you can’t read everyone’s mind, right?”
“No, I’m not a telepathic; I can only communicate with the other Seraph’s.”
“Seraph’s?”
“Yes, that’s our proper name. It means Burning Ones.”
How appropriate, considering the luminance of their skin.
“Why can’t I feel you?” I go on.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, yesterday, Daniel called me empathic, and I’ve been a walking receptacle for emotion for as long as I can remember. Except I can’t feel anything from you, why?”
He gives me long thoughtful look. “I think it’s because I can repel your power.”
“Repel?”
“Ya, don’t sound so insulted.” He says. “It’s our way of staying out of each other’s heads, so we don’t go….” He stops and clears his throat uncomfortably.
I take it upon myself to finish his sentence. “Crazy?”
“It just allows us some mental and emotional privacy; that’s all. I think it works on you because your power is to read emotions. So lucky me.”
“Ya, lucky you.” I repeat sourly. I’ve been trying to keep people out of my head my entire life, and here Justice can easily keep out whoever he wants, including me. The universe is seriously unfair.
“How? How do you do it?” I ask, desperately wanting to know his secret.
“I don’t know.” He answers honestly. “I just do.”
Not exactly the answer I was hoping for.
We enter a part of New Jersey you don’t see on the vacation commercials or in the brochures. Vast farmlands of golden fields are spread out as far as the eye can see and the scent of fresh-cut grass packs the air around us. It feels like we landed in some far off western state, like Kansas. It’s nothing like the beachy shore environment I’m used to. I secretly miss the smell of Red River and the sound of the Atlantic’s waves. Not to mention the inland is hotter than hell. The thermometer reads one hundred and two on my rear-view mirror.
“How old are you?” My questions keep coming.
“In human years?”
“Ya, what other kinds of years are there?” I ask suspiciously.
“You’d be surprised.” He says as he stares at the dark pavement racing with white dotted lines.
“In human years I’m one hundred and fifty one.”
“One hundred and fifty!” I can’t contain my reaction. I jolt up from my seat and drop my jaw. It was as if he just told me he erected the titanic with his bare hands. “Whoa, you’re ancient.”
He let out a loud laugh, “I’m not even close to being ancient! Now Daniel, that’s ancient. He knew Aristotle.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Can I ask you a question now?” He gazes at me dubiously.
“Sure.”
“If being around people is so distressing, how did you end up at a crowded nightclub?”
“Peer pressure and lots of alcohol.” I tell him bluntly.
Crossed
We pull off the main road into Solings Town. It is one of those i
nvisible places that has a gas station and mom and pop grocery store as its town center and that’s it. Most of the roads are dusty and unfinished except for the one that takes you to and from the highway, back to civilization. In random areas, developments of obscurely large houses are sprinkled among the desolate area.
Justice drove up to a two-toned cream stucco house. The kind you’d see on the cover of a realtor’s magazine with the caption: New construction, move in ready, hardwood floors, granite countertops, and eat-in kitchen.
“Is anyone here?” I ask eyeing up the model home. It’s energy seemed to match the desolate area in which it was built.
“Oh he's home.” Justice says confidently, slamming the driver-side door.
As we walk up stone stairs, it seems all too familiar. Justice lightly puts his hand on the small of my back, as if offering some support. I wonder if he can sense my hesitation.
Justice pushes the gold-plated doorbell and a melodic chime plays. I give him a strange look; he just shakes his head and shrugs.
Butterfly’s dance in my stomach as a bizarre dose of reality kicks in.
The door opens, and a low voice greets us “Justice! Finally.”
A tall thin man appears before us. He has premature white hair and small beady blue eyes. He’s handsome in his own sort of way, resembling a cross between Anderson Cooper and Gregory House.
“Hi Cross.” Justice says as he pushes through the door, he isn’t friendly.
“Please come in.” Cross says sarcastically responding to Justice’s entrance without invite.
“And I’ll make myself at home.” Justice glares. It feels a pissing contest. I don’t understand where this attitude is coming from, but I can definitely feel the reception it’s getting.
Cross is annoyed by Justice’s rudeness but suppresses his desire to lash out; like he’s cautious of retribution.
“So how is my old friend Daniel doing? Still playing den mother to frat boys?” Cross asks snidely.
“Of course, he wouldn't have it any other way. We keep him young.” Justice illusively smiles. Cross snickers, “like he has a choice in that, like any of us have a choice.”
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