Inescapable (The Premonition Series)

by Bartol, Amy A

  Reed’s brows draw together dangerously. “He hurt you,” Reed replies in a forceful tone.

  “I Tasered you by the lake, remember?” I ask him quietly.

  He frowns at me darkly, “That was different. You were scared, and it didn’t even hurt me.”

  “Russell is scared, too. I see his reaction as the same kind of thing—and I can handle it,” I say, opening my car door and getting into the passenger side. “It’s like you said earlier, I have a talent for eliciting strong emotion in others. I can see that now.” I watch him get in the car and start the engine. “Beware the power of the mutant.”

  Reed frowns. “You are not a mutant. I have seen mutants, and they look nothing like you,” he says.

  “You’ve seen mutants? What do they look like?” I ask him, watching his scowl fade a little.

  “I want to show you something,” Reed says, turning the engine on and pulling away from the curb. Grateful to be back in the car, I immediately turn all of the heat vents at me and put the fan on high. “I have helped Zee follow your soul mate for weeks now,” he continues. “And I have watched him come here everyday for the past week since it opened. I will show you his spot,” he says, pulling up to the Sage Center.

  Exiting the car, Reed escorts me inside the building where the art exhibition is in full swing. A bar is set up in the lobby of the first floor and elegantly attired men and women mill around, discussing the art and the artists on display. He leads me up the grand staircase, to the second floor of the building, to where the Sam MacKinnon Art Exhibition adorns the walls. The exhibition has drawn a large crowd of well-dressed patrons tonight, and I feel a little out of place in my jeans. I am grateful that I have on one of the sexy, silk tops that Reed had given me; that helps to dress up my jeans. Shrugging out of my coat, I take my gloves off as we approach the gallery.

  Reed ushers me beyond several beautiful portraits to the one on display away from the rest, like it has its own place of honor outside of the others. This painting has special lighting and seating near it. Gazing at the exquisite brush strokes, I am in awe that I had posed for this portrait. It looks as if it could’ve been painted centuries ago; it is in the style of a Rembrandt or a Vermeer.

  Reed shows me to the bench directly in front of it. Pointing to the seat, he says, “This is where Russell sits when he comes here.” Sitting quietly on the bench he indicates, I study the portrait critically. Sam had chosen to go with the sensual pose that he must’ve gotten when I was watching Reed that day. I notice several people admiring it overtly.

  Reed disappears for a moment, and then he returns with a brochure for the exhibition. The portrait of me is on the cover of the brochure. “Russell takes one of these each time he comes here. It is like he cannot help himself,” he says, sitting down next to me on the bench.

  “Thank you,” I say simply as tears well up in my eyes.

  We sit there together for a long time, neither one of us speaking, until the crowd dwindles. Then, I feel Reed stiffen next to me. It is not overt, just a tensing of his muscles, but it sends alarm bells off inside my head. Glancing at him, I try to see what has set him off.

  “Evie,” Reed says calmly, “when I tell you, you must run as fast as you can to my house and find Zee. You will not hesitate, and you will not try to assist me. Do you understand?” he asks in a tone so low that only I could possibly hear him.

  My heart thumps painfully as I ask, “What is it?”

  “Fallen—at least three—all fanning out,” he replies succinctly. “I will help you escape, don’t worry, just be ready,” he says.

  “I’m not leaving you…” I begin, but Reed cuts me off.

  “You will follow my orders,” he says firmly. Reed’s eyes dart around the room rapidly, assessing our surroundings. His jaw grows taut. “There may be more Fallen here than this. I have to get you out of here. Go to Zephyr; he will keep you safe until I get there,” he says quickly.

  All of a sudden, I feel like we are trapped in a tight box with no room to move around. “But, what about you…” I start to say.

  Reed’s eyebrows draw together, “I’m not breakable, like you,” he explains urgently. When he glances at my face and sees my doubt, he growls, “You have to listen to me now, Evie.”

  With my heart pounding in my ears, I see a beautiful angel enter from the emergency stairwell near us. He is striking, with black hair almost to his waist and topaz-color eyes. He could be an Aztec warrior stepping through time if it isn’t for the fact that he is dressed to blend in for an art exhibition. His eyes zero in on me as if he knew I’d be here. All of the hair on the back of my neck stands up in an instant. My wings move within my back. They want to pop out, and I don’t think I can keep that from happening.

  I look over my shoulder, catching sight of two more angels behind us. One is very, very tall, with white-blond hair; he resembles a Viking in stature. The other one is more normal, with brown hair, but beautiful, nonetheless. How did they find us?

  Rising from the bench with blinding speed, Reed upends an easel that had displayed a smaller portrait. With a swift movement, he rips a couple of the wooden legs off of it, holding one like a javelin. Drawing his arm back, he throws one faster than I can track it. Seeing the fallen angel with the brown hair lift off of his feet and rocket backward, I realize where the javelin had gone. The wood embeds in the wall behind us, impaling him there. Crumpling listlessly, I think Reed has killed him for sure, but then his head moves and he looks back up at us wickedly. Regaining his feet, he ruthlessly tries to pull himself off of the stick skewering him. Reed throws the other stick, crushing his skull, and he stops struggling.

  A harrowing scream lodges unvoiced in my throat. Shifting my gaze back to the Aztec angel in front of me, he has already sprouted his wings; they are covered in thick, black feathers trimmed in white, like a vulture’s. Reed doesn’t hesitate at all as his shirt tears away from him, exposing his wings with a loud whoosh sound. He picks up the bench next to mine, holding it in front of me like a shield. Something riddles the front of the bench as splintering holes punch through the wood. When the rapid fire drumming stops, Reed throws the bench at the Aztec angel; it smashes him back into the stairwell, knocking the gun out of his hand. This all happens in a fraction of a second. People don’t even realize that they are in the presence of angels. The humans haven’t heard the gunshots from the silencer. They seem frozen in place, like statues, while the angels fight around them. But then, I realize they aren’t really frozen; the angels are so much faster than them that it is as if we don’t share the same plane of existence with humans.

  Reed bends down, pulling a short-handled knife from the leg strap under his pant leg and a small metal disk. In one fluid motion, he swings the knife forward, releasing the blade. Spiraling with a whistling sound, it flies at the angel behind us. Finding its mark, the blade sticks out of the Viking angel’s eye. Nausea chokes me as I turn away from him. I don’t see if the knife wound stops him because Reed scoops me up in a flash, holding me in his arms like a child. The metal disk breaks open, spewing hazy, white smoke into the room. The smoke hides the dead angels in its cloud. After Reed pulls the fire alarm in a blink of an eye, we are at the railing of the balcony, overlooking the lobby in a millisecond.

  Reed whispers in my ear, “When you hit the ground, run. Don’t stop for anything until you reach Zee.”

  I don’t have time to say “excuse me” as I fall through the air toward the lobby floor. Reed had pitched me over the balcony a couple of floors up. Landing on my feet before going down on one knee in a crouch, I touch the floor lightly with the palms of my hands. I’m okay, I think, recovering quickly from the shock of being thrown off the balcony. I shoot up off my knee and run in the direction of the exit. The entire place is in chaos. People rush to exit through the front doors, trying to escape from smoke and the blaring noise emanating from the fire alarms.

  Almost making it to the exit, I see something approaching me like a freight tra
in in my peripheral vision. Before I can react, it runs right into me, forcing me through the window in front of the Sage Center. The glass shatters as we land in a heap on the front lawn of the auditorium. Pieces of glass cut into my skin. Trying to clear my head, I look over, seeing the chiseled profile of an angel lying next to me on the ground. Turning his face toward me, he lets out a feral growl; but before he can hurt me, Reed pounces on him, smashing his fist into the angel’s jaw, crushing in the side of his face. Blood spatters me as I sit frozen, watching.

  “Run, Evie!” Reed growls, while another angel tries to run past Reed to get to me. Reed twists up, catching him around the neck, clothes lining him. They grapple together on the ground before Reed tears his head off his neck. Growls sound behind us as several more angels burst through the broken window of the Sage Center.

  Reed’s eyes meet mine. “Run!” he shouts at me.

  Scrambling to my feet, I just evade an angel’s out-stretched hand by a hair’s breath. I have no time to think as I run toward the parking lot. Dodging through small groups of people by parked cars, I have to put out my hands as I plow into the side of a white Mercedes.

  “Evie, hey, sup?” Freddie asks, smiling at me from inside his car.

  “Freddie!” I say, opening his car door and jumping into the passenger seat. “Go, Go, Go!” I scream at him, rolling the window up and locking the door. The car moves forward at a snail’s pace as Freddie smiles at me delightedly.

  “Evie, it’s so good to see you. I missed you! You look awful!” He laughs at me from the driver’s seat.

  “Freddie, you have to go faster. I have to get to Reed’s house! There are bad guys out there, and they’re trying to hurt me. Go faster!” I urge him in a panic. “I need to find Zee,” I shout at him.

  I start searching through the back window of his car to see where the angel behind me has gone. He has to be out there, I think. He can probably skip faster than this car is going. I wince when I twist, clutching my side as a sharp pain penetrates my panic. I’m getting blood on Freddie’s car seat, I think, feeling the blood oozing from a cut on my head.

  Freddie clucks his tongue sympathetically, before saying, “Did Volos break your ribs when he pushed you out the window? Well, I did say, ‘Get her to my car by any means necessary,’ so I really can’t complain about how it was done.”

  “Freddie, I…” I say as confusion clouds my mind.

  “You know, I really love that name you gave me…Freddie. It’s so innocent and pure. A Freddie would never hurt you, would he? A Freddie would be your best friend. Alfred is always suspect and, well, nerdy,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “I’m going to keep my name, Freddie, if you don’t mind, because it really will suit my new life. I plan on doing everything right this time. No more killing and maiming—it will be a new chapter in my life,” Freddie says pleasantly, smiling at me lovingly.

  “I…don’t…what are you talking about?” I ask him, feeling like someone is running a cube of ice down my spine.

  As if reminded of something, Freddie says, “Ohh, that’s right, you don’t know what I am, do you?”

  Holding my aching ribs, my voice is weak as I whisper, “You’re Freddie…you’re my friend…”

  Freddie smiles sadly, before brushing my hair back from my cheek as he drives. “I’ve wanted to tell you so many times, you have no idea. I know that you’re the one person to have understood me and loved me anyway. I truly regret that things have turned out this way. But, it really is your fault. I had a handle on everything. You were mine, Russell was mine, and I could’ve had you both with me forever. Well, maybe not Russell, but certainly you. But, you ruined it, didn’t you?”

  My skin grows pale as drips of blood fall from my jaw. “Freddie,” I whisper, “are you an angel?”

  “Of course. I’m really surprised you never figured it out. Maybe it’s because I’m not like the ones that you seem to surround yourself with lately,” he replies blandly. “I had to stay away from the Powers or they would’ve dispatched me. Usually, they tend not to notice Reapers. That’s why I was sent to do this job. It’s why I’ve been so good at it until now. They almost don’t even see me; I’m so beneath their radar. Power angels aren’t interested in me because I have a legitimate reason for being here.”

  My fingers tremble as I touch the cut on my head. “A Reaper?” I ask in confusion.

  Freddie smiles at me sympathetically again. “I’m a Reaper… an angel of death, Evie. I negotiate souls for the damned,” he says plainly, and I try to keep my mouth from falling open. “I thought I was going to have to tell you before now, especially when we went to Coldwater and saw the possessed one. It did follow us, you know? It wanted to tear your heart out, but I wouldn’t let it. I had to shrive the possessed soul, just to stop it from killing you. That won’t be looked upon favorably where I come from,” he says, with a grimace as his jaw tightens in anger.

  “You saved me from the shadow man?” I ask in a whisper because my throat is very tight.

  Freddie suddenly grins. “Yes, shadow man…that’s good, that’s funny!” Freddie chuckles. “I noticed that you noticed him. I was impressed at how brave you acted trying to protect me from what you saw. I had to take care of it because you’re mine, my love,” he says earnestly, and goose bumps break out on my arms. “But, I’ve lost you, haven’t I? The Powers are going to take you away from me, and there is little I can do to stop that. I would have to answer for my mistakes in the abyss if I let you slip away from me. They don’t tolerate mistakes,” he says, shuddering.

  “Freddie,” I gasp, “I’ll help you…”

  “How?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow.

  “I…don’t…Reed can…” I begin.

  Freddie scowls at me. “Your Power will shred me the moment he realizes that I’ve been near you,” he says in a sinister tone.

  “But,” I stutter.

  “I thought he was going to shred you—that night by the lake. But, he didn’t…he fell in love with you instead,” Freddie says grimly. “There is almost something magical about you, Evie. You’ve enchanted him…” he trails off, thinking. “I had to break you two up…I thought the roses on the bed were quite clever. I knew you’d recognize Russell’s necklace in them… and that Reed would freak because he knows better than to get between two soul mates. Divine Powers are so pathetic… always looking for signs in things, waiting to be called back to Paradise,” he sneers.

  “You did that—the roses at Reed’s house?” I ask as my hands tremble. He doesn’t know about my nightmares; he just did it to break us up.

  “I was desperate. You two were together all the time. If Sheol had discovered that I’d lost control of you…” Freddie’s scowl eases as he says, “But, don’t worry, I’ve come up with a plan to avoid the retribution of Sheol. Of course, this will piss them off, but whatever. You’re my free ride out of that, aren’t you?” he smiles, and even though I don’t know what he is saying, it makes me feel nauseous. “I had to enlist the aid of other fallen angels tonight just to get you away from your boyfriend. I needed strong fighters—Powers and Archangels. But, everything has a price. I had to promise that I would give you to them, once I have what I need. They think the Seraphim in Sheol know of my plans.”

  “You mean the fallen Seraphim?” I squeak.

  Freddie’s blue eyes seem dull—soulless. “Who do you think sent me to watch you in the first place? They’re all interested in you,” he says cunningly.

  Goose bumps rise on my skin. “Why are the Fallen interested in me?” I ask him bluntly.

  “You have to ask?” he asks incredulously. “What about you isn’t interesting?”

  My lips thin in a grim line. “But, I’m just a…I’m not…” I stammer.

  Freddie’s expression turns thoughtful. “You really don’t know, do you? I’ve always wondered if you knew something because it’s hard to believe that you’re this naїve…innocent. Interesting…there are so many things about you to want. I’m surprised
your boyfriend hasn’t enlightened you on the many facets of what you could be,” Freddie says cryptically.

  “What could I be?” I whisper.

  Freddie’s eyes narrow, “You could be a powerful weapon…if you could be controlled,” he says in a thoughtful tone.

  “What?” I ask breathlessly.

  Freddie smiles ironically. “Of course, no one but me knew exactly where you’d gone…until now. I hadn’t told them that you’d come to Crestwood, since I haven’t been back to Sheol in a while. I had to stay away so that you wouldn’t smell it on me. It can be very…rank. Only the angels that answer to me know you’re here now, but they’re all vicious deceivers—nearly impossible to control. I didn’t trust any of them—that is, until tonight. They’re going to help me get what I want.”

  Something squeezes my heart painfully. “And, what’s that, Freddie?” I ask him coolly, but my hands are shaking badly.

  His eyebrow quirks cunningly as he asks, “What would solve all of my problems and give me a clean slate?”

  My eyebrows draw together in confusion, “I don’t…” I trail off as something occurs to me.

  “Yes,” he smiles grimly, seeing my face growing deathly pale. “Your soul will give me redemption. If I refuse to sin after you give it to me, then I’ll be allowed a place in Paradise.” His harsh expression begins to fade, being replaced by a dreamy sort of smile. “I can’t wait to see the look on the Cherubim faces when I stroll along the…” Freddie begins speaking in his angelic language, so I can’t understand a word he says. As he rambles on, his face flushes.

  I interrupt him. “Why would my soul give you redemption? How do you know that it’s not evil and would bar you from your Paradise?” I ask him searchingly.

  His expression turns bitter. “The Sheol Seraphim don’t share their information with Reapers; they just give orders—I only know what I’ve observed of you,” he says with his jaw tight with anger.

  “So, you don’t know where I came from?” I ask him in a soft tone.