No one kisses that way.
Everyone is supposed to kiss that way.
And he was kissing me, as if I had always belonged to him.
CHAPTER NINE
Stuart’s brave feat with Andre didn’t surprise Sienna. She brushed it with a hand wave, saying “That’s just Stuart” – as if we were talking about the neighborhood superhero that lived on every block, a theory still under consideration from my perspective.
News of our day date, and – kissing sent her squealing and jumping continuously on her bed, until I pulled her back to a seated position, the up and down motions making me queasy – it didn’t take much these days. She was happy for us, but I was mortified over my feelings, the gravitational pull thrilling and frightening at the same time. I had never felt anything so strong, so definite.
I wanted him so badly every part of me ached, his touch still reverberating like waves over my body, remembering the longing, the passion long after we parted.
But there was still so much to piece together.
That night, the letter lay open on my lap, free from the confines of the envelope it had lived in now for over a month. Holding the phone in my hand, staring at the number at the bottom of the single piece of paper, my fingers froze. I couldn’t make the call, but I didn’t know what was stopping me.
I stashed the single sheet back in my satchel, and placed the phone back on the nightstand. With a heavy sigh, I nestled under the comforter, forcing my mind to shift subjects, remembering the warmth of Stuart’s lips, the sweet taste of his mouth.
Jealous pangs stabbed my heart wondering if he had shared those kisses with others. Of course, those thoughts were totally unreasonable and selfish, but I couldn’t imagine having that level of passion with just anyone.
Kissing like that could do permanent damage. Had he left a string of girls longing for him the way I did? He set the bar so impossibly high I doubted I could ever kiss someone else again, even if things didn’t work out between us.
I’m too young to peak in the romance department.
While drifting to sleep I held Stuart close in my thoughts like a safety net – a very sexy safety net, hoping he could perhaps protect me from the evil behind my eyelids.
No chance. When I drifted to sleep, the same mötley crüe appeared for an encore performance, cycling in their inertia of terror.
He held me down. I writhed under the brute strength of his huge arms as she shouted, “Leave her alone!” Then I was running again, tripping over concealed rocks hidden just beneath the mossy grass. I knew I had to jump. The waves were loud, and the tide was high. The moon was a solitary disc beneath a billion stars. It would be okay. Somehow, I knew it would be okay. Hurdling off the cliff, I opened my arms wide, this time relaxing into the fall.
This time, he would save me.
Something was lifting me up, the cliffs fading in the distance below, the sky moving closer. The heartbeats steady, rhythmic beneath his shirt. I was safe, and I closed my eyes.
“Wake up! You over slept, big time,” Sienna shouted from the hallway.
He was waiting downstairs, laughing with Patrice. But it was me who distracted his attention when I walked down the staircase, causing Patrice to smile and gently exit. It felt like everyone was in on some secret except for me, or maybe the secret was simply, us.
After school the three of us went for coffee, and out of nowhere I found myself blurting out an idea I didn’t know existed until the words formed. “I think I’ll visit Colonsay over the holiday…find out what this silly letter is about so I can get on with my life.”
Sienna nodded, wiping crumbs from the sides of her mouth. “I’ll see if Mum will take us.”
I had finally shown the letter to Sienna. She had been intrigued, and I didn’t elaborate on anything other than it was all a mystery. Truthfully, it was all a mystery. I had no idea if the letter, my dreams, and my freak abilities were related – except on some level I did know – I just couldn’t make the pieces fit.
I shook my head in response. “No, I need to go alone.” Stuart and Sienna both stared. “What? I can’t travel a short distance by myself? It’ll just be for a day.”
“Then Mum will expect you to get an okay from your parents,” Sienna said.
That evening I called Dad’s cell phone in order to avoid the possibility of Liz answering the house phone. I had to tell him about the letter so he would let me go. Dad could be talked into anything with a good argument, provided he has details.
After reciting the contents to him, omitting the reference to Mom, he was silent for a few moments, and I decided to go in for the kill. “So, I can make it a day trip? I’ll bring someone with,” I fibbed, feeling immediate guilt. Lying was not my style, and the truth is, both Sienna and Stuart offered to accompany me but I insisted on going alone. No one knew about my visions and the craziness I endured, and frankly I feared loosing Stuart too soon because of it. This was something I had to do alone.
Dad finally heaved a heavy sigh. “Fine. Be careful.”
The next day a note appeared pinned beneath Stuart’s windshield wiper, folded in half with my name scribbled on it. He handed it to me, watching my face while I read. I had never seen the handwriting before.
I know you know. I know who you are.
“Well?” They both said in unison.
I sighed, handing it to Stuart. After reading, they both looked at me, serious and troubled.
“What does this mean?” Stuart’s tone was all business again.
Now I was trapped. If I told them my secret, I risked losing my two best friends, a risk I was unwilling to take. But if I didn’t speak up, they would still think I was a certified loon. There was no way out. Stuart had saved me, and deserved an explanation.
It’s not like I would blame them for not wanting to associate with a total freak that read minds. Of course convincing them I wasn’t prying into their heads 24/7 would be challenging, even though Sienna was mostly an open book, and Stuart was unreadable.
And while I didn’t know who wrote the note, the thought crossed my mind that the only person currently threatened by my existence was Andre. With a start, I remembered the horrible night when Andre had thought, Pin her first. She’ll like it. To which I responded, “NO. I. WON’T! GET OFF ME!” My reaction was timed in response as if he had spoken aloud, and he must have been startled if not suspicious, if not initially, perhaps later when he recalled events. But had not returned to school, and there had been no sightings of his car.
If my theory was true and he reacted to me reading him, it was a new phenomenon in my über-bizarro world. No one had ever ‘caught’ me reading, or at least, they never called me on it.
Stuart was talking. “Layla, speak.”
“Um…can we go somewhere private? It’s time to – tell you two – something.”
CHAPTER TEN
We sat in the coffee house together, as words like “clairvoyant” and “psychic” hovered in the air. I hated the limited vernacular available to explain myself – it sounded fake and ostentatious. But Stuart just smiled, as if he was relieved I finally confessed. This trait of his, the all knowing, all seeing, was getting on my nerves. Playing mystery man was cute and endearing at first, but quickly becoming an irritation, because it kept us from growing closer. The more I knew about him, the less I seemed to know. Sienna on the other hand was slightly more vocal. “That is by far the coolest thing ever!” I saw a light go on behind her eyes. “Oh. You said ‘who’s Stuart,’ the first day. You heard me.”
I shrugged. “Yeah.”
The relief from confiding in my friends was catatonic, cleansing. No more watching words or side-stepping conversations. Best of all, they didn’t think I was a freak. “This explains so much!” Sienna exclaimed, reveling in the news.
“How so?” I asked.
“Because…you’re just very – observant. Aside from that first day, I’ve noticed how you whip your head around when we pass people, and those dreams o
f yours…I assumed you were a little off, not that we cared or anything…it was part of your eccentric charm,” Sienna winked.
She was right. Having visions for so long, I probably wasn’t aware how I came across to people. But it stood to reason if others were paying attention, my behavior would seem – strange sometimes.
I shrugged. “Sorry for not sharing sooner. This isn’t the type of thing you blurt out to people you just meet, and I was afraid you would freak and run. No one else knows of my strangeness by the way, so don’t go blabbing.”
“No one?” Sienna was surprised.
“Like I said, it’s a big deal being the only two who know, so keep it close. If anyone else finds out, I’ll know the source. I don’t, you know, intrude on either of your – thoughts by the way. I try to practice respect, unless it’s obvious. Thoughts coincide with feelings too, and feelings are a no brainer to pick up on for me…except – you Stuart. I, it’s hard to – I can’t…”
But he didn’t acknowledge me, instead just continued staring into his cup, miles away.
The correspondence from Abbey Grace was increasingly difficult to push from my mind. Associations between my nightmares and the letter grew together in juxtapose, interwoven in their relevance to each other – the how was the mystery, and it was obvious there was only one way to resolve the issue.
On November eleventh, my sixteenth birthday (no particular significance), I dialed the phone number of Abbey Grace in Colonsay, Scotland, this time letting it ring until someone answered.
She was a cheery sounding woman who had been immersed in gardening, refusing my apologies for interrupting, apparently ecstatic for the call. Abbey remained vague about the discovery on her property, saying it was something to see to believe. I asked if it required my Mom accompanying me, since we were on separate continents, and it would be easier for just me to visit. No one needed the tragic details behind the non-existent mother daughter relationship we held.
Abbey said she would be home the first two weeks of December, and would love to have me as a guest for a day or two with or without Mom. With plenty of room, she insisted I stay in her newly added on guest suite. The time coincided with the school holiday, so I booked a round-trip flight for a two day-one night journey. Second thoughts about travelling there, especially alone, crept over me, but I pushed them aside as nonsense and looked forward to the trip.
News travels quickly in the espionage network, because within a few hours Liz called. I almost didn’t answer, and then decided that was always an unwise choice. Emergencies could happen, and who was I to screen calls. “Yeah?”
“Hi Mom, is the correct greeting.” My stomach dropped to the floor. Her voice was curt, as usual, and void of warmth toward her only child. On the other hand, answering with a “yeah” didn’t serve to nurture our relationship. Eventually, one of us would need to give in and be the adult.
“Sorry,” I responded with dry emotion. “What’s up?”
“Be careful in Colonsay, and happy birthday.”
She hung up quickly and my jaw tightened. I sat in stunned silence before attacking the innocent goose down bed pillows strewn across my bed with my fists.
When there was nothing left to beat up, it all came crashing down.
Between exams, nightly visits from the spirit world, the mysterious note left on Stuart’s windshield, the perplexing charm delivery with no name, and the impending trip to Colonsay, I developed one big agonizing headache that was resilient to all drug store pain relief. Convinced my brain was going to implode and that I would be better off, I spent many days to follow after classes in my room with a cold rag on my head.
Everyone was worried, and I could barely move. It took every ounce of anything to function. When the break came, I had never been so relieved, praying I passed exams, but more happy to be finished. Everything was collapsing beneath me, fragmented parts of my life scattering like shrapnel. Nothing made sense.
It was as if I existed in an alternate universe with nothing in my control. Charms and mysterious notes and phone calls from Liz.
The cerebral noise of those around me intensified, causing unbearable sensory overload. Even Sienna was too chatty. My ability to tune people out at will was gone, and pieces of my humanity slid off my skin layer by layer until I grew silent and irritable.
The nightmares intensified. So much blood and violence and slicing and burning. Some days it was difficult to tell reality from the dream world, and there were moments the memories from the night visions became tangible. Sometimes I was caught while falling; sometimes I was caught then released, hearing laughter as I fell. Some nights I was floating in the water surrounded by total darkness, alone, knowing I was dead with so much to loose. I saw, or thought I saw, glimpses of the dream characters around Cambridge, sending my heart racing.
Sleep only came by way of shear exhaustion, because more than anything I feared the inevitable and incessant horror that I would fight until my eyelids shut without permission.
When I thought it was unbearable and considered canceling the trip, Liz sent me a text – The headaches will go away. Don’t cancel but be careful –
Yep. Life had gone from strange to crazy, and Liz was clearly working in covert ops.
The black town car with deep tinted windows was conspicuous, cruising slowly past the parking lot when we were about to climb in Stuart’s Saab. Without moving a muscle, I worked hard to mentally penetrate the thick window glass, hoping to learn the identity of the driver or passenger, or the person responsible for stalking. But my head pounded ruthlessly, suddenly bearing too much weight to hold.
And I read nothing.
Maybe I was overreacting. The car could have been anyone. Perhaps stress was wearing me down. I’ve read that extreme fatigue can cause hallucinations. Yes, it was probably nothing. A coincidence.
I didn’t believe it was nothing, but dismissing it was easier.
Then on the last day of exams, another note appeared on Stuart’s car in the same handwriting. You will all perish. You are doomed. You will pay.
Okay, my bad, there were no coincidences.
Something, or someone, was definitely after me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
New message from Unknown Sender via email. Subject: Scotland Witch Trials.
Sarah was accused of witchcraft to cover a murder; a murder based on jealously and uncontrolled lust. You are very connected to her. Go to Colonsay and learn the truth. Learn who you are, where you came from – the answers wait for you. Abbey is not crazy – she is a good person and old family friend. Your dreams are about Sarah. Records show she died of natural causes in 1731. This is a lie. Witchcraft executions were all but passé at that time. She was killed by early Bane, unsophisticated in knowledge, but that has all changed. Bane are evil beings, extremely drawn to us, but they are the enemy nonetheless and want us dead. It is not safe, so you must be careful. We are working to resolve the issue and provide protection.
Resolve the issue? Was this some sort of joke? Obviously someone wanted me to know something. Anonymously. And who the hell is Sarah? And what is a Bane? Of course the definition for bane was evil, but capitalizing into a noun made it a person, place or thing. It was too exhausting. Soon, I would meet Abbey and resolve the mystery – I hoped. Maybe then life would make sense again.
My head spun, and a deep longing for Stuart’s company caressed me in stillness, craving his presence, his mouth. He had been giving me ‘space’ through finals, sensing I was overwhelmed and not feeling well, but lying for hours only made me worry about whether our chance had come and gone. He had every reason to have second thoughts – after all, I was a certified lunatic with mental and physical illness.
And then as if on cue, flowers arrived. The most spectacular, fragrant bouquet and a note letting me know he was thinking of me, and nothing had changed. Relief swept over me, but the nagging tug of his absence persisted.
I wanted him badly but couldn’t stand anyone’s company.
“Please?” I begged.
“No. Not now. Not yet,” he said without moving his lips.
“Stuart! I can read you! That’s never happened!”
He smiled, and then rose from the bed, leaving our embrace, leaving me chilled and empty. Moving toward the window, he stared unblinking into the distance.
I was sad now, feeling like he was going away forever. “Stuart, come back.”
The window was open, and without turning around to acknowledge me, he stepped over the frame and floated into the night, disappearing like vapor. A sinking feeling gripped my entrails, knowing he was lost forever.
All I wanted was Stuart.
But he wouldn’t stay, even in a dream.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“You are bloody stubborn and bloody maddening.” He ran his fingers through his thick mane of hair, furrows of anxiety deepening between his eyes.
“That’s pretty bloody!” He didn’t appreciate the humor. “Stop scowling, Fairchild. Scotland isn’t far, and this is something I need to do alone, even if we had never met.” Snuggling close, my arm linked through his while we strolled around London, half sightseeing and holiday shopping. Touring the city was his idea, and I was content and finally headache free again. Whoever sent the email said the headaches would leave, but I didn’t know why I had them in the first place. Someone knew, and left me in the dark, as always.
Vision Page 5
