I smirked. “Can I pee alone?”
Everyone laughed. Natasha responded with a grin. “Only if you want to, dear.” Her eyes twinkled, and she gave me a hug.
I left with the Brown’s but it was strange knowing my parents were just a few blocks away for the week – unexpected but nice. There was still so much to talk about, but I was left speechless after leaving the Fairchild’s. Stuart showed up minutes later, asking if he could hang out with people his age.
“You’re way too old for me now, Fairchild. I need to rethink this…” I couldn’t resist teasing, there was so much potential for jokes about a 280-year-old man. But he was kissing me before I finished talking again.
“Okay, now it’s getting disgusting,” Sienna gently shoved us as she passed.
The three of us sat on the Brown sofa in front of the television after Patrice and Henry went to bed.
Stuart had zoned with the remote, doing the thing guys do when they flick through every last channel stopping nowhere in particular– split second images their own brand of entertainment. It made me happy to know he still resembled a typical guy in that regard, and then realized he had lived in times with no technology whatsoever.
“Sienna?” It seemed like ages since we sat and talked.
She considered me with her huge, droopy eyes tired from the day. “Yeah?”
“Thank you,” I said.
She shook her head once, wondering what the conversation was about. “For…?”
“Just being…you. You’re probably my best friend. No, scratch that. You are definitely my best friend.”
“Damn straight,” she said, “And don’t forget it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Sienna fell asleep on the sofa under a peach chemise blanket, curled into a tiny, petite ball. Stuart placed the remote on the table and turned to me, leaning in for a soft kiss…and another…and another.
Uh, Fairchild, time out for your interrogation. How did you find me on Colonsay? What did you hear - sense?
His eyes lit up, and he shifted to face me.
I heard you, love. Long distance. It was amazing. I felt my body transforming, stretching, hardening, growing masses of new parts even though my physical appearance stayed the same. There was no thought required, and I was there in an instant.
Seriously. No airplanes, buses…
No public transportation was involved. I was here in Cambridge. The sense of danger to your life was suddenly overwhelming. Although I had been on high alert, not wanting to violate your requested “space”, he used air quotes and paused for effect, I didn’t see anything specific until he arrived on the island, he being Jasper. It required no thought, it just happened. I passed through cold winds and ice as I travelled. Sounds blazed through me so fast they blended together into one low hum. Within moments I scooped you from the air. Afterwards, of course, I’m exhausted but what a rush. What a beautiful buzz, like kissing you…
Show me. C’mon upstairs.
He thought inviting him upstairs was code for something else, until we stood at the open window inviting chilly winter air into the room.
Show me how you move. Over there. Next door. The Tanner house. Take me to the roof.
Are you mad? They’ll think Saint Nick has arrived.
Mr. Tanner lives alone and is hard of hearing.
I’m not sure how this works yet, if I can do it at will.
Ah yes, it works when I’m in danger…
Indeed.
Well, then.
I hurled myself over the frame and out the two-story window. There wasn’t far to fall, and of course if I was truly immortal nothing would happen, but Stuart wouldn’t allow experimentation. Sure enough, his arms were around me from behind while we gently pushed through the air, moving parallel then gradually up in a whisk of flight until we touched down soundlessly on the Tanner roof.
Wow. That was…wild. I laughed, breathless.
You are maddening, love. Don’t experiment again.
We hugged each other tight standing on the Tanner roof, our heart rates escalated from adrenaline. I shifted so the front of our bodies pressed together. Good job Fairchild. I wanted to take you for a test run. One can’t claim to be a Guardian without proof.
So scooping you out of the air as your fell from a cliff headed for thrashing, icy waters wasn’t enough? He nibbled my chin.
I wanted to be alert this time.
He pulled me tighter against his rock hard body, his arms enveloping me like an octopus. I wanted to stay there, tucked into him and not ask more questions that only served to confuse me.
“Happy?” He whispered.
I was beyond happy, delirious maybe? “Very. But I don’t feel immortal. How am I supposed to feel?”
“You won’t feel anything, but you won’t age.” His eyes never left my face even as raindrops tried to separate us.
I was puzzled. “But people age. It’s science. There’s no way around it. I don’t understand.”
“It does defy science and logic.” He pondered for a moment. “From what I understand, and based on what Abbey said, George granted eternal life to us, keeping me at this age so you would be…attracted to me when we finally met. You will stop aging now too because, well, we’re together now. Your wayward soul has finally landed. That was the deal.” One side of his mouth pulled upward as he swept my hair away on one side of my neck, exposing my skin to his kisses.
He distracted me again, and I tried to think about what he said but decided I was utterly and completely spent. “I’m cold, Fairchild. Let’s go back.”
He pulled me closer as the rain came rushing down then swept us off the roof over to some thick spruce trees for shelter.
Warn me before you do that, please. Hey, I was thinking…we can never stay in one place forever. People will wonder why we don’t grow old.
I don’t think that will be a problem.
Why?
Because from what I understand, we will spend eternity moving from place to place, in battle with Bane with only brief glimpses of peace in between, unless we manage to destroy their infrastructure.
I figured there would be a catch to this eternal life, everlasting love business. “Okay,” I said, “Well, let’s just get through the holidays first.”
The Land of Fey was missing the Fairchild house. The stunning Tudor sat majestically on Trumpington Road, selfishly stealing attention from the other homes. White twinkling holiday lights formed perfect architectural outlines of the frame, and shaped the tall evergreen in their front yard.
The inside was decorated with holiday precision. Unlike the carefree disarray of decorations at the Brown’s, a glitter hodge-podge of dime store trinkets thrown everywhere, this was something from Architectural Digest. A rush of warmth charged at you upon entering.
“Happy Christmas!” Natasha was dressed in a flowing green dress, looking like a magical queen who grants wishes. Colin wore a Santa hat and was in charge of drinks. Presents overflowed under the tree and the kitchen smelled of Moroccan heaven. Natasha was part Moroccan with the ancestral link to Stuart. Stuart told me his “rebirth” father was Moroccan and his mother was French, and he still had vivid memories of the food there, something Natasha has mastered for him.
The scene was a holiday fantasy far removed from anything that ever happened at the Stone’s. Dad and Mom seem to fit right in though, and it made me happy to be together. Best of all my mommy hatred was subsiding. Maybe it was the holiday spirit, but more likely from our now unbreakable common bond to a world few knew about or could ever understand. We were left to force ourselves into some sort of reconciliation – fake it ‘till we make it into whatever mother-daughter relationship sprung from this bizarre life.
And there were more charms as gifts, this time given in full disclosure, even though it was a conspired group plan.
A MacPhie family crest from Mom and Dad, a Scorpion from Natasha and Colin for my astrological delineation, a hand-carved “BFF” from Sienna, a fo
ur-leaf clover from Patrice and Henry – Henry was Irish and believed in the power of good luck, and from Stuart a diamond-encrusted angel.
But I got you nothing, I sent to him.
Love, you gave me everything.
He added the charms to my bracelet as they were opened.
My bracelet was filling up.
As was my life, as Dad predicted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The holidays passed and reality returned.
Bad people wanted me dead.
Mom gave me a special phone with an untraceable number directly to her I was not to use for any other purpose. With the promise to keep me up to date on a regular basis and answer any questions that arose, we parted ways leaving me with my new support unit and Guardian.
Before Mom left, she and Colin told us about Bane plots StoneWall diverted – pretty impressive stuff, and who else had a Mom in this line of work? They had emphasized, however, Bane were weapons rich and numbers strong – outnumbering Clear in every section of the world. And while there were great advantages to outthinking the enemy, Colin compared it to playing Whack-a-Mole – hit one on the head and more pop up.
And bad people wanted me dead.
Although Mom developed another theory, thinking Bane may want to use my talent to push their purpose forward before actually killing me. “Jasper could have and didn’t kill you on Colonsay, and that makes me wonder,” she had said, “But only time would tell.”
“Well luckily I have plenty of time then,” I replied. When she didn’t respond, I clarified, “You know the immortal advantage? Never mind.”
Colin promised security at Sixth would be imperceptible. He also created a perimeter around the Brown’s placing twenty-four hour watch on the house. My apologies to the Brown’s for the extreme inconvenience of ‘me’ were heartfelt, but met with ‘nonsense’ and ‘bollocks’ from Patrice and Henry and they graciously accepted the new normal of life. Their gravitas was astonishing.
Stuart didn’t leave my side and he let his invisible shield cover Sienna. Mom had whispered into his ear that Sienna needed to be watched closely, as Bane were notorious for hostage taking and didn’t blink an eye over collateral damage. He was to behave like Secret Service at all times, on high alert, scanning surroundings like a tracking hound. I suppose it would have been annoying being glued to the hip of anyone else, but this was Stuart, and I adored his hips. The thought of Sienna in danger, however, made me furious.
Soon the mundane returned to our daily routine, and eventually we let our guard down a little without completely forgetting I was prey. There were no sedan sightings or notes, so we relaxed into the spring session.
He resumed his nightly visits after everyone fell asleep, engulfing me in his arms – his kisses and caresses neutralizing the terror that always gripped the hollow of my chest. When he left later in the night, when I was alone again, the dread returned to wash over me despite the extra security and protective measures in place. To need someone so much was an adjustment for my formerly independent spirit, but the thought of life without him was unbearable now and I was in no position to subvert.
Then one night after Stuart left, when I was in a deep sleep, someone else came to visit.
Clears can’t always predict the future. We read minds, minds that are unblocked. But if there are those who do not wish to be read – there is little to do.
And if someone is quiet enough, slipping through darkness unseen, convincing the security outside the Brown’s they were the replacement night shift – there is little to do.
Jasper Branson stood over my bed, his stealth presence waking me only because of the violent energy exuding from his controlled heartbeats, the unmistakable image of Andre in twenty-five years. The man from the island, now pointing a gun at my head.
My eyes opened to meet his, gleaming with evil deeds and plans for my future. He was blocked – something Mom had told me Bane perfected before moving into the ranks of fighters.
And my Guardian was missing, although I suspected he would pick up on Jasper’s presence any moment.
If not, this was the end.
His sinister grin spoke of chaos and doom.
This I knew without reading a thought in his head.
Having a gun pointed at you, knowing in a split second your life could end is nothing like you see in movies. Actors couldn’t act well enough to convey what happens to you inside, the paralysis, the terror, and the resignation.
“Layla. So nice to see you.” The aristocratic Shakespearean theatrical inflexions dripped with subtle sarcasm. “Sorry about the close-call on the island. No harm, no foul?” He wasn’t waiting for a response, just pausing for dramatic effect. “I promise I only wanted to chat. Misunderstandings can be so inconvenient.”
In order to avoid him hearing my voice tremble I pushed out words in a strong whisper, relying on the rush of air to hold my vocal chords in place. “Get out now.” I had already jumped to my feet, ready to assume a defensive posture before being slaughtered.
The promise of war in his eyes advised me to sit but I remained unmoving, my toes gripping the hardwood floor to hold steady.
“Layla, I’m not here to play games. If I wanted you dead, I would have killed you on Colonsay.” His eyebrows rose into a diabolical arch. “On the contrary, you will be a dynamic asset to our organization and no one will be harmed if you obey my instructions. Now, telegraph something sweet to him so he won’t come back because if he does he will be killed instantly.”
Mom had been right. They wanted to use me.
I forgot to ask if immortal souls can recover from fatal gunshot wounds. This was not a good time not to know this stuff, but bottom line I couldn’t risk losing him.
Goodnight, Fairchild.
Layla, are you okay? I’m headed back over…
Don’t come back. Patrice is up. I’m drifting to sleep. See you tomorrow.
He hesitated. Goodnight then, love.
“Okay done.” If I screamed, everyone in the house became involved, and the last thing I wanted was for the Brown’s to be exposed to this creep. “What instructions?” I seethed.
Jasper’s chuckle made me taste death. “You’re feisty. We like that! Your Mum would be so proud.”
“Don’t talk about my mother.” I seethed, surprised by my boldness, considering he held the gun and I was in my pajamas.
Of course he knows Mom and Colin and Stonewall, and I wasn’t the only one in danger, yet I couldn’t stop the sassy mouth from pushing the envelope. “Leave now or I’ll call the cops.”
His amusement showed signs of fraying. “The cops believe we are watching the house, dear one. Now, let’s continue our chat, shall we? I hate wasting time. All we want is you, Layla. Not your friends or family, you. Come with me and join our happy group.” He stood in utter stillness, his flamboyant delivery a contradiction to the disciplined way he appeared to hover motionless in one spot. “Hhmm. I should clarify that wasn’t really a question,” the devil laughed. “It’s more of a – non-negotiable demand, or invitation, unless of course you want everyone in your life, dead. But then you would go soon after so there’s really no point in bloodshed. My way is win-win. The other way is, well, just so much loss.” He gestured in the air with the hand holding the gun.
I continued working hard to push out the words that stuck in my impossibly dry throat. “What group?”
He shook his head making a ‘tsk tsk’ sound. “Surely someone has told you by now?” My eyes dropped to his neck, and while he wore a pricey designer suit, dress shirt and tie, I could still see the red anarchy tattoo permanently etched on his neck – the circled “A” – he neither hid nor boasted, half covered by his collar. Colin explained Bane get this mark to identify members.
His steel eyes held steady, unblinking and without compromise. “You can get one of these too, dear – once you swear fealty to the group. Regardless we need your talent, and Andre misses you terribly.”
“Your son is a f
irst class jerk!” A wave of heat flushed over me.
Jasper laughed. “No, Andre is just…young and careless. He has yet to learn control of his emotions, and his Bane gifts are undisciplined but that will resolve in time. He sincerely wants you and I can’t blame him. You are quite lovely – again, like your Mum. A dazzling couple you would be – and very, very powerful.”
“I said leave my mom out of this!” The hot tears welling in my ducts were barely contained. Hysteria was closing in, clutching my throat.
He shook his head. “Sorry, no can do. Liz is – while good at her job – a…well, let’s just say she’s too involved to be excluded, sticking her nose where she should not. So here’s the proposition. You will live and work with us. Everyone in your life will be unharmed, at least for now as long as they stay out of the way.”
Fear consumed me as I stalled for time. The reality of the situation was unfathomable. If I didn’t agree to his terms, everyone I cared about, loved, would die. And while this was all new to me, and while I couldn’t read the contents of Jasper’s head, I had no reason to doubt his promise.
“What are you even talking about me doing?” I asked, quietly.
He raised an index finger like a game show host. “Excellent question. You will use your “powers” to help us. Just think, Layla – dream with me, if you will. We have connections with global leaders that will allow you to travel and be in the same room with presidents, diplomats, prime ministers, kings and queens. You will read minds, what you do best. You will tell us what plans are underway – government plans, battle strategies, weapons manufacturing. That is all I can tell you. But I will say this: we will know in a very short time if you lie about anything you read. If facts clash with reality, we will hold you responsible – which circles back to the unfortunate deaths we discussed, including yours.”
It took every ounce of will power to control my trembling, and keep my voice from shaking. “Why me?”
Vision Page 10
