Scorched Souls (Chosen Book 3)

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Scorched Souls (Chosen Book 3) Page 8

by Jeff Altabef


  Connor leads us down a small alley to an ancient pub called Grenadier. He orders us five fish and chips lunch specials and pays in advance. A few minutes later the bartender returns with paper bags, already discolored with grease stains.

  By the time we hit the street, Troy’s already stuffing his face.

  Connor grins. “That’s the original fast food, Troy. It tasted better when they wrapped it in newspaper.”

  “Newspaper,” snorts Blake. “You could get lead poisoning along with a half dozen other things.”

  Connor slaps him on the back. “No need to worry. The grease kills all the bad stuff.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I take a bite of the fried cod—a lump of greasy fried happiness. I’m sure I moan a little. “Wow,” is all I can say.

  “We’re close to Hyde Park. Let’s eat there.” Connor continues down the alley.

  A few minutes later we cross a main street, enter the park, and walk to our right where a few people are gathering in clusters.

  “What’s going on?” asks Akari.

  “Speaker’s Corner.” Connor mumbles with his mouth full of fried fish. “Anyone can bring a crate, step on top and prattle on about crazy stuff. Most of them are nutters. It’s perfect for you, Blake. Maybe one of them is going on about diseases.”

  “Let’s check it out.” Troy saunters over. He’s already finished his fish and chips and tosses the empty bag into a trash container.

  Three people stand on crates and talk to small crowds that have gathered around them. We stop in the back of the largest crowd. The speaker has short gray hair, wears a raincoat, and practically foams at the mouth as spit flies from her mouth in every direction, which is probably only one of many reasons why the crowd gives her a wide birth.

  She’s placed large pieces of cardboard on two stands next to her. One is titled, “Aliens Live Among Us!” Under the title is an odd collection of pictures: some look like spaceships, others are drawings of aliens with giant heads and thin bodies. One catches my attention; it looks like a Deltite in a shimmering tunic.

  The other piece of cardboard is titled “The End is Near!” She’s placed news clippings of recent natural disasters under the headline. All in all, she’s painting quite a depressing picture.

  “Aliens want to steal our planet for its natural resources,” she shouts. “They will slaughter us like cattle and make hamburgers out of our flesh. They’re already here. They don’t look like green men. They’re able to look like us. I know three who live in London!”

  Connor nudges me with an elbow and nods up at the lady, a mischievous grin on his face.

  The papers in the woman’s hand start to lift in her grasp. She stutters and her face turns ashen.

  Blake catches on and creates a short blast of wind that topples over her cardboard signs.

  “W-What’s happening?” The woman scans the crowd. “They’re here. Aliens are here! They’re doing this!”

  Akari cracks a smile and one of the cardboard signs catches on fire.

  A woman in the front of the crowd gasps.

  The pranks are stupid, but I have to laugh.

  Even Troy is grinning.

  Blake creates a gust that blows out the fire.

  Akari chuckles. “You’re no fun.”

  We leave the lady behind as she stamps on the cardboard sign to make sure the fire is out. Hyde Park is beautiful with lush grass fields, tall trees, and wide walking paths. It’s smaller than Central Park, but feels older and stronger. As we pass a corral with children and horses on our right, they burst into delighted giggles.

  “Where to?” I loop my arm around Connor’s.

  “Kensington Gardens is just up ahead.” He speeds his pace. “It’s one of London’s special places.”

  A short time later we arrive at a long rectangular reflecting pool that leads toward Kensington Palace in the distance. I understand what Connor means by a special place. The combination of the pool and the splashes of color ringing it are more than beautiful. There’s a certain harmony to it, a symmetry that’s calming and tranquil.

  We stop next to a bench and stare out at the reflecting pool.

  Blake whistles. “Well, that’s a splendid little summer house.”

  Connor slips his hand in mine. “There’s a Peter Pan statue hidden around here. It’s not far. I’m sure I could find it, if you’d like to see it.”

  Troy stretches and plops on the bench. “Why don’t you two go ahead? I’ll rest on the bench.”

  He’s still my best friend; he’s still looking out for me.

  Blake frowns. “Well, I’m not tired. Where’s this Peter Pan thing?”

  Akari stomps on his foot.

  “Hey!” Blake hops.

  “Why don’t you and I stay with Troy and let Connor and Juliet find the statue on their own?” She nods at us.

  “Oh. Yeah, that would be best.” He turns pink and whispers to Akari while shaking his foot. “You could’ve just said something.”

  Connor pulls me away and calls over his shoulder, “We’ll be back. I promise.”

  “So, Peter Pan, huh?” I smile. “I didn’t know you were such a fan.”

  “Of course. I love Pan. He’s an English institution. When I was little, I wanted to be a Lost Boy.”

  “Right.” I don’t believe a word he says.

  “I had a wicked crush on Tinker Bell.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Tink. Really?”

  He shrugs. “Fairies are hot.”

  We laugh as we wind our way through the park and stop in front of a statue of Peter Pan. The young boy is playing a flute on top of a small hill, and characters from the story are carved into the side of the hill. We circle the statue; it’s beautiful, and no one else is around.

  “Hey, you didn’t suggest we come here so we’d be alone, did you?”

  Connor points to his chest. “Me. Would I do such a thing?”

  I bat my eyes at him. “I hope so.”

  He takes my hands. The sun peeks from behind a cloud and reflects off his eyes. They look incredibly deep.

  I could fall into them and get lost forever.

  “‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.’”

  “Is that it?” I frown.

  “I’ve never been good at remembering Shakespeare, and I’m sure the rest fails miserably to describe how beautiful you are.” He sweeps his fingers against my cheek and traces the tips down my face and chin.

  I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful, but when he says it, I hear the truth in his voice. Not that I’m really beautiful, but that he believes I am, which is way more important. Who cares about what anyone else thinks?

  “You might not be James Bond, but you’re not so bad yourself.” I take his fake glasses off and move toward him.

  He meets me halfway; our lips press together, and heat ripples through my body. His lips are soft and he still tastes like fish and chips. He flattens his hand against the small of my back and his fingers singe my skin.

  I drop his glasses, wrap my hand around his neck, and pull him into me. All the oxygen leaves my lungs as his body pushes against mine.

  It’s ridiculous, but I’m lost in our private world in the middle of a giant city and a vast park. It’s crazy how a moment can feel so intimate with someone at the oddest times and in the weirdest places. I’ve never felt this close to another person before. My nerves fire as our bodies connect, and his hands send a shiver up my back. It’s like he’s become part of me. I can’t tell where he starts and I end. I almost don’t hear the Husky barking—almost.

  We separate and stare at the dog.

  He waves at her. “Not now. We’re just snogging.”

  The Husky barks again.

  I glance in the direction where we left the others and search the park with my mind.

  Four Deltites are closing in on them.

  Connor

  I struggle to keep up with Juliet.

  She’s
flying. Even with my enhanced speed, she pulls away and hurdles over a five-foot hedge like an Olympian.

  I’m a full five-seconds behind when I leap over the same hedge and join her with the others at the bench.

  She’s a step in front of them, her head swiveling back and forth like she’s at a tennis match.

  Her Husky races toward the palace at a full sprint, barking and snarling.

  I bound toward her, but I don’t spot anything unusual: a few tourists on the far end who take pictures of the palace, a mother with a stroller, a father who’s walking with his son holding a football.

  Troy jumps to his feet. “What’s wrong, Jules?”

  Juliet sounds hesitant. “I don’t know. I thought... I guess I’m... seeing things. Maybe I’m going nuts.”

  “Did you see more dark spirits?” Troy scans the park.

  Juliet touches him on the arm. “No, Troy. It’s just shadows. I guess I’m... going a little crazy.”

  Blake joins them. “Well, you were alone with Connor for a full twenty minutes. That could damage anyone. I figured you’d come running long before now.”

  “Good point,” says Troy.

  “Let’s go back to the boat.” Akari wraps an arm around Juliet’s shoulder.

  Blake grins. “Well, I don’t see how that’s going to help. Unless Connor’s going to stay here.”

  I lunge for his throat and he jumps back. We circle around the bench for a few seconds while I’m cursing at him, until I lift him with my mind and hold him in the air.

  “How about I toss you in the water?” I slide him toward the reflecting pool, keeping him two feet above the ground.

  He fights me with his own telekinesis, but I’m stronger and he knows it, so he flattens both hands together in a pleading motion. “Okay, okay, I take it back. Who wouldn’t want to be alone with you? I’m sure there are long lines of girls who find you attractive in a Neanderthal type of way. Who knows? Maybe even a few dudes now that you’ve cut that hair?”

  I laugh and drop him on the ground. “Next time you’re going in.”

  Everyone laughs, except for Juliet. She’s shaken, her eyes constantly scanning the horizon.

  She sees more than she’s willing to tell us, and clearly knows more than she’ll say.

  We take the train back to Walton. By the time we reach the houseboat, darkness blankets the river.

  Blake taps on a keyboard in the kitchen and plays classical music. He’s actually quite good.

  Akari stands next to him and rests her hand on his shoulder, lost in the music, and I wonder if she even notices that she’s touching him.

  From the pink shade on Blake’s face, he’s clearly aware of it.

  Troy searches websites about news from New York City. Gagarin’s death is in all the papers—a high-flying investment advisor murdered under unusual circumstances. So far the police have no suspects or clues to what happened. With any luck, it will stay that way.

  Juliet paces the small galley twirling her hair, tension spinning from her in tight swirls. She’s been this way since we returned. It’s obvious she needs to get off the boat, and to be honest, I’d like to spend time alone with her.

  I grab a bottle of wine and two glasses from the bar and block her path.

  She stops inches from me, her coffee eyes wide, violet flecks sparkling. We all have these swirls. It’s the Alphian DNA, but hers look electric.

  “Let’s go for a stroll. I know the best place to watch the moonlight over the river.” I toss out my smoothest, most attractive smile and arch my eyebrows. I’m a hopeless wanker, but it makes her smile.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

  She smells like roses.

  “The police are still looking for you.”

  I shrug. “I know the perfect spot. They’ll never find us. No one patrols the river at night.”

  She glances at the door, and I can tell she wants to go. “I could use some fresh air.”

  Troy ambles over and touches her arm. “Pacing the boat is not doing you any good. You should go. Be safe and have fun.” He swipes the wine bottle from my hand. “You don’t need this.”

  I scowl at him, but he’s right. I grabbed the bottle without thinking. A buzz will only make the night more dangerous, and as long as Juliet is with me, the wine isn’t important. I lighten my expression and wink at him. “Deal.”

  He nods and heads back toward the table.

  Juliet and I jump off the boat, and I slip my hand into hers. The almost full moon brightens a clear sky, which is surprisingly good weather for England. The stars add a hint of magic to the night.

  “So where to?” she asks.

  “I know the most special place on the river.”

  “I bet you take all the girls there.”

  I squeeze her hand tighter. “There are no other girls.”

  She bumps into me, and I bump her back.

  We pass The Swan, and a few seconds later we find the willow tree I’m looking for. I pull back a branch and reveal a short path to a flat rock that juts out onto the river.

  She settles down on the rock, and I squeeze in next to her, grinning like I’ve just won first place in some bloody race. “This is my favorite place in all of England.”

  “It’s beautiful.” She leans back on her hands and gazes at the sky. “Have you noticed that the stars feel different now?”

  I glance upward. “I know what you mean. They’re not just some faraway places anymore. They’ve become real now that we know we aren’t alone in the universe.”

  “That crazy lady at Speaker’s Corner was right.” Juliet chuckles and I wish I could record it, because her laughter sounds like music.

  “Not about everything. I’m pretty sure the Deltites don’t want to eat us, but she was closer to the truth than most.”

  We both stare off into the star-filled sky.

  “I wonder where Alpha is?” I say.

  “It’s that one.” She points to a dim star in the horizon.

  My mouth drops open. “How do you know?”

  She playfully shoves me. “I’m just kidding. It could be any one of them.”

  “That’s cold.”

  “My tribe has a legend about the stars. The First Woman placed them in the sky. She used the stars to write the rules of life for us. That way they would never fade.”

  “I don’t see any rules.” I search her eyes, but she has them fixed on the stars.

  “They’re all there if you know what to look for. Some constellations tell us how to hunt and others tell us the rules for marriage.” She points to a few stars almost directly above us. “Those always stay together. They tell us that a relationship between a man and woman should be exclusive. Sicheii could point out all the constellations and knew what they meant.

  “Everything was going well until Coyote insisted that he help. The First Woman gave him two twin stars to place in the sky. He accidentally switched them. They were supposed to establish peace and friendship among all the people in the world, but instead, war and strife plague mankind.”

  “So it’s all Coyote’s fault?”

  She sighs. “He tried to do the right thing. He just messed up.”

  We stay quiet for a long time and watch the moonlight sparkle off the river. I’m content to sit this way for the rest of my life, just us together with the moonlight and the river.

  After a while she starts to twirl her hair, so something must be troubling her.

  “Playing the What If game again?” I ask her.

  The playfulness leaves her face and doubt sweeps in. “I saw a vision of my grandfather right after the Boathouse. He told me the Alphians weren’t all good and the Deltites weren’t all bad. He said I’d have a choice to make.”

  “Did he tell you what you should do?”

  “Ha! Sicheii always spoke in riddles.” She tosses a stone into the river. “He never told me what to do.”

  Another rock plunks into the water. “I’m sure he’s right. No on
e is all good or all bad.”

  “When I used the tablet in the Boathouse I connected with the Prime Elector.” She stares deep into my eyes. “It was only for a second, but he didn’t seem bad to me. How do we know the visions from the Fusions are real? How do we know any of this is real?”

  “I’ve always followed my instinct.” I kiss her hand. “I know what we have together is real.”

  She leans her head against my shoulder. “So do I.”

  We watch two swans float past, and she turns to face me.

  She’s here, right next to me, and yet she still feels distant. Her mind seems far away, distracted. Luckily, I remember the perfect poetry verse to bring her back to the present. “Now a soft kiss—Aye by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss.”

  She smiles. “That’s not fair. You can’t quote John Keats to me. How will I be able to resist you?”

  “So you did read that book on English poetry I gave you. I can go on. Maybe—”

  “Maybe you should just kiss me instead.”

  I lift the palm of her hand to my lips. Heat flows through my body. I smile and trace my fingers down her cheek to her chin. Her eyes glitter as though sprinkled with diamond dust. The air between us turns static and time seems to slow. I gently brush my lips against her. Soft. Sweet. Perfect.

  We separate an inch and I playfully nibble her lower lip.

  She grins. “Maybe we can relax that slow rule a little?” Her eyes smile, and her lips part.

  Just when I lean closer, we hear voices from the path.

  My stomach twists. What rotten luck.

  A couple marches toward us, and I recognize the girl’s voice right away.

  Bloody hell!

  We stand as their conversation becomes louder and it’s obvious they’re headed right for us.

  The girl says, “I know the turn-off is right over here. Connor used to take me here all the time.”

  “You mean that tosser who murdered the butcher?”

  “Come on, Todd. I know you don’t like him, but Connor could be sweet.”

  “Let’s just say, you’ve upgraded the company you keep.”

  Juliet’s face turns crimson, her eyes pinch together, and she looks like she wants to murder me.

  I whisper, “It’s not what you think.”

 

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