Rebirth (Cross Book 1)

by Hildred Billings

  It should have been a nice dream – or at least, one of the more pleasant visions she had. Yet there was something more unnerving than ever about it. The woman was familiar, safe, comforting. No matter how much she tried to enjoy it, paranoia hung from a noose above their union.

  “Don’t leave me,” the woman whispered. They lay together in a mass of limbs and hair tangled like fragile branches. “Don’t leave me.”

  Danielle did not respond. She snuggled deeper into her lover’s embrace.

  Nothingness followed, a cold solitude as Danielle entered the cold, directionless void between lives. Without a body she could not weep, nor could she speak and cry out for the name closest to her memory.

  But she heard another name, one that brought her out of her dream state and back into the real world. Somebody called her name.

  “Danielle?” Her grandmother. “Danielle, wake up!”

  Hey eyes snapped open, torso hanging halfway out of her bed, bare legs exposed to the air where her grandmother held her down.

  “What?” Once upright again, Danielle clutched her grandmother’s wrinkled hand and met her dark eyes. Regina wiped away a tear from her granddaughter’s cheek. “What’s going on?”

  “You were having a fit. I could hear you in my room.” Regina hugged her. “You were screaming so loudly that… oh, sweetie, I’m so worried about you…”

  Had Danielle screamed? “I’m okay, really.” Her face was hot. She pressed her fingers against her cheek and felt a slew of warm tears. Why was she crying?

  Regina sat back again. “I’ve never heard you scream so loudly before…”

  “What was I screaming?”

  “I don’t know. Look,” she held her hand up to her lips, “I really think you should go back to the doctor…”

  “No.”

  “You’re sick, honey.”

  “I’m not sick.” Danielle pulled herself to the window overlooking the pastures. The moonlight shined with such ferocity that the moonlit-washed grounds twinkled with the promise of the bewitching hour. “Why won’t you believe me?”

  Regina stood from the bed. “I want to believe you, but I’m worried.”

  “I know you are.”

  Regina wasn’t going to get through her granddaughter’s thick skull. Even if she were to persist, what was the point? In all of their years knowing one another, Danielle had always stuck to her own world, her own reality where shadows danced and voices whispered from empty corners of the room. Once she was in this state, no one, least of all Regina, would make an impact.

  She backed away from her granddaughter. Danielle remained turned toward her wall, quilt up to her head. Many years ago, Regina would have stayed in her granddaughter’s room, foregoing sleep if it meant Danielle wasn’t alone when the next fit claimed her.

  Instead, she went downstairs. Danielle was an adult now. Besides, there was someone Regina desperately needed to call from the kitchen phone.

  She waited two rings before almost hanging up. A groggy voice on the other end of the line kept her from preemptively ending her call.

  “What?” Miranda, voice laden with vodka, could barely function enough to answer.

  “This is Regina. Please tell me that you’re not drunk.”

  “God, whatever. What is it?”

  “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

  “So?”

  Regina pinched the bridge of her nose. “Danielle had another episode tonight. I don’t know what to do.”

  Miranda laughed. “Why are you asking me? I’m not the one you should be talking to.”

  “If you weren’t drunk, I’d tell you to come here right now.”

  “Why.”

  Disbelief almost stopped Regina’s tongue. “Because she was crying out for someone.”

  “Who?”

  “You.” Regina could still hear that scared, desperate voice. “She was calling for you.”

  NINETEEN

  Miranda woke up with the greatest headache she had ever courted. She fell out of bed and rolled into the shower, taking as little time as possible to wash off her disgust. Breakfast was two pills, because she was that miserable, and because there was nothing in her fridge. At least grocery shopping was a good excuse to tell her pain to fuck off for a while.

  Armed with heavy sunglasses and the temperament of an attack dog, Miranda walked toward her neighborhood market, where a pedestrian bridge linked her neighborhood to the parking lot across the street. As she ascended the first side, her breath left her. Going to the market had been a terrible idea.

  Danielle leaned against the railing overlooking the street below them, her visage plastered with a type of indifference that sent a shiver down Miranda’s spine – or was that the hangover? For a moment, Miranda thought she was hallucinating. What kind of sick joke was this? And the thousandth one is as little as a week?

  Miranda was at an impasse. Should she confront Danielle? About what? Should she ignore her? Why? Should she bring up what happened last night? Not like Danielle knew that Miranda knew…

  “You look like you just got dumped,” Miranda said.

  Danielle jumped. “What are you doing here?” She grabbed the railing.

  “I live around here, thank you. What are you doing here?”

  Danielle turned away, the breeze rustling her short hair. “I was taking a walk. Guess I wandered farther away than I thought.”

  Miranda crossed the width of the bridge. “If you stand there looking like that long enough, the neighborhood watch will call the cops thinking you’re going to jump.”

  “This coming from a woman who looks more hungover than an English pub on Sunday morning?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Yes.”

  Traffic sped by below, each car honk and truck rumble ravaging delicate, hungover ears. Miranda needed more pain pills. “Rough night.”

  “Apparently.” Danielle stretched her arms. “I had no idea I wandered over here. Usually I try to avoid the hoity-toity neighborhoods, but I guess that accounts for all the damn yuppies.”

  Miranda laughed. “I’m on my way to do some errands. See you tomorrow.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She froze, her bloodshot eyes bugging behind her dark sunglasses. “Yeah?”

  Danielle cleared her throat. “Do you remember the day before yesterday… when that major was in the office?”

  A semi-truck’s horn blasted beneath them. Miranda did not falter. “What about her?”

  “Why is she so dangerous?”

  What should Miranda say? “She’ll kill you. She’ll molest you. She’ll fuck your mind and then kill you.” Those came with stories, though. Stories Miranda did not want to share. “I’ve known her for a long, long time. She puts up a good façade but…”

  “Is she your girlfriend?”

  Miranda’s mouth fell agape. “No. God, no.”

  “In your office…”

  All of Miranda’s frustration flew from her mouth as an exasperated sigh. “No, she is not my girlfriend. To tell you the truth, I did not condone whatever happened in my office.” The subtext hung between them. Whatever Danielle had surmised after walking into and leaving that office? She could now make further conclusions, and not all of them had to flatter Miranda.

  Danielle was silent. Her grip weakened against the railing, the strengthening breeze masking her bangs before her face. “Is that why she’s so dangerous?”

  “Why are you asking me this?”

  “Because after the way you were acting, I thought that maybe… never mind.” Danielle leaned against the railing again. “Forget I asked. That’s an awkward thing to talk about.”

  Miranda nodded. “I was a bit skittish that day, but I still believe that you should stay away from her. Don’t believe her bullshit about her recruits. She has a shitty character that nobody should be subjected to.”

  “Then what does she want with me?”

  “Want? Nothing good.” Miranda took another st
ep forward. “I think you can trust your own instincts. Good day.”

  Miranda hurried along. Danielle watched after her.

  For a moment, she remembered, and her heart was warm while her soul screamed.

  ***

  Alone in their apartment, Devon gorged on cereal and called up Clyde, asking his friend to come over so they could talk shop. Whether that meant band shop or Save the World shop was up to Clyde. Devon wouldn’t put it past him to pretend nothing happened the day before. Sometimes that boy smoked too much pot.

  No. Talking about it was too important. Once he hung up on Clyde, Devon dialed Danielle’s number and asked her to come over at her convenience.

  The three of them sat around the small kitchen table and discussed how to go about finding the Relics. Naturally, it didn’t help that the only clues they had to go on was bullshit about spiritual energy. One full of a single person’s spiritual energy. The other full of a community’s, whatever that entailed.

  “I don’t understand something,” Danielle said. “Why would they be conveniently near us? How the hell were you and I born at the right time in the right place? It’s too easy.”

  Devon had the closest thing to an answer. “Didn’t Marlow say that our fates were intertwined? Wouldn’t that also mean we are connected to the spiritual energy of whatever planet we’re born upon? Or maybe I’m just talking out of my ass… but then again, that crazy chick from yesterday knew who we were, so maybe she’s looking for them too.”

  “Yeah, but here’s hoping they don’t know who you are yet. They targeted me, remember? Let’s keep our eyes open. If you have guns, I’d hold them close.”

  Devon and Clyde exchanged glances. “We totally tote guns,” Devon said with a roll of his eyes. “Even though we didn’t go through Basic Training like some people at this table.”

  “Well, get some.”

  “A gun probably isn’t going to do much against an intergalactic terrorist.”

  Danielle leaned back in her seat. “Don’t come crying to me when they figure out who you are.”

  “Speaking of which, how did they know that you’re…”

  Danielle cut off Clyde with a taut voice. “Because one of them is working on the inside of the military. That Sara Kobayashi woman came in and spoke to me the day before we got shot at. She probably saw my tattoo and recognized it, even though…”

  “What is it?”

  Danielle furrowed her brows. “I had it covered because of the dress code.”

  Devon shrugged. “You’re the closest I get to the military, so I doubt I’ll run into her.”

  “Well,” she scooted back in her chair, “I’ve got shit to do.”

  This was supposed to be her super-cool-badass-exit that would leave the boys mesmerized and her ego swollen enough to get her through the weekend. Instead, she fell forward onto her chair, hand clutching her forehead as she mumbled something incoherent.

  Devon leaped from his chair. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

  “No, no.” She waved her hand at him. “I’m tired. I didn’t sleep at all last night.”

  “Why?” He put his hand on top of hers. Clyde raised an eyebrow.

  “I kept having flashbacks. They started up again when Marlow appeared.”

  “Shit.” Devon muttered. “You should get some sleep. You can’t drive like this. You’ll get in an accident trying to drive home.”

  “Says the guy who doesn’t even have a license. I can take a nap when I get home.”

  “No, it’s okay, you can sleep here.” Was Devon inviting Clyde to have a heart attack where he sat? Because every time he got cozier with Danielle, someone with red hair came closer to passing out. “The couch blows, but nobody’s using the bed in the back.”

  “You mean the bed you sleep in with your girlfriend? Noooo thanks.”

  “The bed’s clean. We washed the linens this morning, actually.”

  On one hand, she could take a however-long nap on Devon’s bed he shared with his girlfriend, or she could get back in her car, weary and half-asleep, and possibly crash on the sidewalk.

  “All right, but promise me one thing,” she said. “Wake me up before it gets dark out. I have shit to do back home.”

  “No problem.”

  Devon led Danielle to the only bedroom. He came back a minute later.

  “Dude,” Clyde said, “we need to talk.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Let’s sit down.”

  Devon joined Clyde on the couch. “What’s up? Still freaking out?”

  “I’m more worried about you.”

  “Nothing that I can’t handle. I’ve only died a few times before. This is no big deal.”

  “It’s not that! It’s… her.” Clyde jerked his thumb toward the bedroom.

  “What about her? Is it because she works for the military, she’s older, or she’s gay?”

  Clyde shook his head. “I don’t care what she is. Do you know what you’re doing? I think you have a crush on her. Seriously. What’s going on?”

  No man wanted to squirm beneath the pressure of his ally’s accusations. “Of course I don’t have a crush on her. That’s ridiculous. She’s like… way older than me. Plus, I have a girlfriend!”

  Was Clyde not supposed to see the blush on his friend’s face? “You’re about as shallow as a kiddie pool, dude. You better fess up before I slap you off this couch.”

  “What?” Devon shook his head. “I don’t have any feelings for her. Not like that.”

  Although Devon stood by his statement, Clyde wasn’t buying it. “What the fuck, it’s only been about… two days since I’ve seen you two together. You touch her whenever you can. You offer her shit. I wouldn’t be so concerned if you weren’t already with Alicia and, you know, this woman doesn’t seem to like you back.”

  “I still don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re partners. That’s all.”

  “You’re still not telling me something.”

  It was inevitable that Devon would need to talk about Sonall’s feelings.

  Clyde could only stare in a mix of disgust and awe. “That’s some fucked up shit, bro,” he finally said. “You need to get that shit under control. What about Alicia? You gonna leave her for a lesbian ten years older than you?”

  “Just leave her alone, okay? I’m not going to try anything with her. But don’t tell me I’m not allowed to look out for the one person I’m supposed to trust the most.”

  “Aw, you can trust me too, old pal.”

  “Thanks.”

  Having made their bitter amends, the two friends decided to forget about the heavy crap. For the next hour, they played violent video games to take their minds off real-world violence.

  Interruption came when Alicia arrived. She rubbed her eyes as she mumbled a hello to the boys and threw her stuff down before going back to the bedroom.

  Both Clyde and Devon continued to play their game. Another ten seconds rolled by before Clyde paused their fight.

  “Your girlfriend went into your bedroom.”

  “Yeah, yeah, c’mon, let’s finish…”

  “Dude! You have another chick sleeping back there!”

  Devon threw down the controller and leaped over the back of the couch. But before he could take even one step, the brazen scream of angry surprise echoed through the apartment. He froze in his tracks as Clyde peered over the back of the couch.

  The heavy pounding of footsteps thumped in time to Devon’s heartbeat. Alicia rounded the corner of the hallway, her face pasty white.

  “Alicia! I can explain.” More footsteps came down the short hallway.

  “Don’t! Don’t even! How the hell are you going to…”

  “Ally?”

  The room fell into a deathly silence. Danielle joined the three of them as she crept past the corner of the hallway, eyes never leaving the figure of Devon’s girlfriend near the front door. Only a hacksaw could cut the tension in the room.

  Alicia turned at the sound of Da
nielle’s voice.

  Somehow, the Void blinked from existence long enough for them to recognize one another.

  “Danielle?” Alicia cowered against the wall.

  Devon stepped forward. “I can explain. This is…”

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Alicia’s countenance flushed crimson the moment she lurched forward and Danielle took a panicked step back. “What’s going on? What kind of sick joke is this?”

  Danielle shot Devon her own sour look. “This is your girlfriend?”

  He nodded.

  “Shit,” Danielle cursed in disbelief.

  Alicia danced between them and the wall. “What are you doing here?” she asked again. “I never wanted to see you again.”

  “Trust me, if I had any say, it would have stayed that way.”

  Alicia’s throat clogged with forgotten tears. “What the fuck is this?” she asked Devon.

  He could only stare wide-eyed at his girlfriend. “This is a friend of mine. She was resting up before driving home.”

  “Oh my God.” Alicia turned away again, her locket popping out of her sweater. “This isn’t happening!”

  Danielle stood in silence, her chest constricting and her heart beating with the aggression of a war drum. Anxious sweat formed on her forehead – that was not the locket she had once given her ex around that pale throat, right? “Ally.”

  “Don’t call me that!” Alicia turned. “This is a horrible dream. It has to be.”

  Alicia grabbed her coat and hurried out the front door, slamming it behind her.

  “What the hell was that?” Devon asked. “Do you… know her?”

  Danielle scoffed in disgust. “Ally. My ex.” She left, running away from her own shadow.

  ***

  Three hours later, Danielle could still couldn’t get the creepy-crawly sensation out of her bones. One moment she was taking a nap, and the next? Slapped in the face by the woman who dumped her two years ago.

  Danielle sat by herself in a café, arms crossed as her coffee chilled on the table and her book remained unread. Outside, a large swarm of people walked by, barely catching her attention as she willed herself to not cry in public. This allowed her to completely miss Miranda’s presence on the other side of the café window.