Stella Maris (The Legendary Rosaries)

by Marita A. Hansen

  He’d saved me.

  My eyes shot to his grandfather as he came up behind him with a raised hand.

  I yelled, “Watch out!” the hold on my voice gone too.

  Christopher spun around, yelping as his grandfather backhanded him across the face.

  “How dare you!” his grandfather barked at him.

  Christopher touched a hand to his face, his expression pained. His lip piercing was bleeding, while his cheek was bright red. “I’m not letting you kill her.”

  Seeing my opportunity to escape, I pushed to my feet and went to run. But before I could take a step, Reprebus extended a hand towards me, locking me in place once more.

  He threw a glare at his grandson. “Stay out of this, boy, or I’ll kill her right here instead of taking her home for questioning.” His left hand lit up, a fireball igniting in his palm.

  “You’re going to kill her regardless.” Christopher raised his own hand, a fireball also forming in his palm. “So let her go!”

  Reprebus’ gaze snapped to Christopher’s hand, surprise colouring his expression. “Or what? You’d attack your own grandfather over some girl you just met?” he said, closing his hand, dispelling the flames.

  Christopher shook his head, his fire still burning brightly. “No, but I’ll set the surrounding houses alight, breaking the shielding spell. People will come out, will see me flaming up. You won’t be able to hide it or protect me.”

  His grandfather looked shocked. “You’ll out yourself to humans? And for what?” He indicated to me. “A demon?”

  “She’s not a demon.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether she is or not, all Marises are our enemies, whether demon or angel. They take pleasure in killing us.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you she’s not a Maris. She’s a Stella. And no angel Maris has ever harmed us.”

  “Not true. A few have tried to harm me, and Stellas are extinct.”

  “Then explain why her eyes aren’t blue.”

  “Trickery. She needs to be dispatched. I won’t allow her to endanger your life.”

  Reprebus went for me. Christopher flung his hand out, sending a fireball at a house behind his grandfather. It burst through a window, shattering the glass. Like a switch, the normal everyday sounds of cars, birds, even the breeze came back with a rush. As well as the sound of fire, which lit up the curtains in the house behind us.

  Reprebus swore. He swept his hands out, lifting me off the ground and flinging me backwards.

  Christopher screamed, “No!”

  I landed on my back, my head bouncing against the tarmac, out before the count.

  Chapter 13

  ~ CHRISTOPHER ~

  My grandfather grabbed me, shoving me towards the car. “Get in, we need to leave now.”

  “No!” I pushed him away and turned to Catherine. Blood was colouring her hair, her expression still, the girl looking dead. I fell to my knees next to her and placed two fingers to her neck, beyond relieved to feel a pulse.

  “Get in the car before someone sees!” my grandfather barked.

  Ignoring him, I slipped my arms under Catherine and picked her up.

  “Yes,” he said. “Put her in the backseat.”

  Having no intention of doing that, I headed for the walkway, intending on taking her back to school.

  “Chris!” my grandfather yelled. “Stop being an emotional fool. She’ll be the death of you.”

  I continued forward, not wanting to hear anything from him, what he’d done making me sick to my stomach. If I hadn’t followed Catherine she’d be dead.

  My grandfather cursed loudly in Italian. A few seconds later, his engine started up. I didn’t need to look back to know he was leaving. And I didn’t care. Didn’t care that he was going to tell my parents, that they were all going to descend upon me as soon as I got home, telling me I was a fool, that I was banned from going near Catherine. That I was grounded for defying my grandfather. I wouldn’t even be surprised if my father pulled out his belt, striking me with it as punishment. He’d done it before. Had done a lot worse. But I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting Catherine help.

  I headed across the school field, aiming for the office, where the sickbay was. Kids playing soccer stopped to look at me as I carried Catherine past them, concerned voices growing louder as I neared the buildings.

  A female yelled out Catherine’s name. Within seconds, Catherine’s redheaded friend was by my side, asking what had happened. I didn’t say anything, knowing I couldn’t tell her the truth. I was also too overwhelmed to conjure up a lie. My thoughts were still with my grandfather and how I’d almost risked exposing our kind. I’d also betrayed him. I knew I’d crossed the line by choosing to save Catherine over my grandfather’s wishes. But I didn’t want to be responsible for Catherine’s death like I had been for Levy’s. I’d liked Levy, thought she was fun. It had taken a while to forgive my grandfather for killing her, even though I understood why he had to. But it still didn’t lessen the guilt or horror at seeing her screaming in agony as she burned to death—something I couldn’t stop. I’d cried, sobbed my heart out, the agony I saw on her face almost destroying me more than what the Maris demon had done to me, the scars in my heart more painful than the ones on my back. My grandfather had said that I shouldn’t have felt any guilt whatsoever, that Levy had led me like a lamb to the slaughter when she’d helped the Maris demon capture me. But it didn’t lessen the knowledge she’d died because of me. And an excruciating death. And I didn’t want Catherine to end up the same way, especially since I liked her far more than I’d ever liked Levy.

  Catherine’s friend ran in front of me, screaming for help. A group of teachers, along with the principal, came rushing out of the teachers’ lounge. The gym teacher got to me first. Mr. Carey grabbed Catherine out of my arms and headed through the door that Mrs. Smithe, the art history teacher, was holding open. I followed the tall, muscular man and Catherine into the sickbay. Mr. Carey laid Catherine down on the bedding, then stepped aside for the nurse to examine her.

  The principal strode into the room, going to the nurse’s side. He was a fifty-something man with white hair and glasses. “How is she?” he asked.

  “She’s breathing, but bleeding heavily from a gash to her head,” the nurse answered. “Has the ambulance been called?”

  The principal nodded, his speckled gaze going to me. “What happened?”

  I didn’t reply, just stared back at him.

  The principal’s attention shifted to the gym teacher. “Take Christopher out to the reception area. Sit with him. He looks like he’s in shock. Stay with him until the ambulance arrives.”

  The gym teacher nodded and placed a hand on my back, steering me out of the sickbay. He directed me to a chair near the reception desk and sat down next to me, asking something, but all I could do was stare through the doorway at Catherine, knowing my grandfather had put her there.

  Because of me.

  The principal closed the door, cutting off my view.

  “Christopher,” the gym teacher said. “Please answer me.”

  I turned my head towards him, staring at him blankly like I’d done to the principal.

  “Who hurt you and Catherine?” he asked.

  “Hurt me?” I replied, not understanding.

  He indicated to my mouth. “Your lip is bleeding and your cheek is bright red. Who hit you? Did they attack Catherine, too?”

  I shook my head, definitely not wanting him to think it was an attack. “A car hit her. A hit and run.”

  “Did you get the number plate?” he asked, looking dubious, obviously not believing me.

  I shook my head again, my attention being pulled to Catherine’s friend as she approached me. “What happened, Chris?” she asked. I was surprised she knew my name, then remembered she was in my confirmation class. I couldn’t recall her name, and even if I did know it, I was sure I couldn’t have pulled it out from the mass of confusion currently racing throu
gh my head.

  “Chris, what happened?” she repeated, her eyes zeroing in on my injured lip, confusion and upset warring in her green eyes.

  “I don’t know,” I lied, wincing as I removed the lip ring. My grandfather had never hit me that hard before, only my father having ever drawn blood.

  Catherine’s friend started crying. “Will she be okay?”

  I pocketed the lip ring. “I don’t know,” I repeated, feeling almost panicked at the thought of Catherine dying. I liked her—a lot. Not only her looks, but her smartass mouth. I also liked the way she stared at me without realising what she was doing. What she said and did weren’t always in sync, the girl a paradox.

  And she was a Merge.

  I’d finally found another of my kind that I could connect with. Whether it would turn into something more, I didn’t know, it was way too soon to tell, but it had been a step in the right direction ... until she’d run off. But had she run off? Or was she compelled? I knew my grandfather had the power to compel people. His control over the Seraphim rosary was much stronger than mine. He’d probably enticed her out of the school grounds, willing her to come to him. But I didn’t expect the pull to extend so far. He usually had to be closer.

  “I’m sure she’ll be okay,” the gym teacher said.

  Digging my hand into my pocket, I clutched my rosary and said a silent prayer, praying he was right.

  ***

  I climbed in through my bedroom window. I’d parked down the road, not wanting to alert my parents and grandfather I was home. I knew I was going to have to face them, or in particular, my grandfather, which was all the more reason why I had to find proof that he was wrong about Catherine. That she wasn’t a danger to me—to us, my famiglia. I dropped to my knees and removed a book from under my bed, one I’d found in my mother’s library, which I’d stowed away yesterday. It had more information on Stellas, information I had yet to finish reading.

  I picked it up and settled on my bed, flicking to the page I was up to, pausing on a picture that had caught my attention. The image was of the Virgin Mary holding out a pair of rosary beads to a monk with a long black cape. Above her head were fifteen circles containing images of Christ’s life, one of them reminding me of the indent Catherine’s rosary had left on my finger. It was long gone now, only the memory remaining.

  My thoughts went to Catherine, relieved she was going to be all right. I’d gone to the hospital to see her. Although the nurse hadn’t allowed me through, only family permitted, she’d told me that Catherine would be fine.

  But she wouldn’t continue that way if I couldn’t prove to my grandfather she was good, because I wasn’t deluding myself that I’d saved her. My grandfather would continue stalking her, what I’d done just prolonging the inevitable.

  I quickly turned back to the page I was meant to read, gleaning whatever information about the Stellas I could. I stopped on a sentence a third of the way down the page, the words instantly capturing my attention:

  It is believed that Stellas can change their eye-colour, since they do not align with any one element.

  My bedroom door flew open, ripping my attention away from the book. I looked up, finding my grandfather standing in my doorway, glaring at me. New wrinkles I hadn’t seen before accentuated his furious face. But he didn’t say a word, his anger leaving him mute. Or maybe he was waiting for me to speak, to beg for his forgiveness, the latter I wouldn’t do.

  I rose to my feet and pointed to the passage in the book. “I was right! Catherine is a Stella. It says here that Stellas can change their eye colour. And hers is hazel, not blue like a Maris.”

  “You fought me,” he growled, my words falling on deaf ears.

  “Because you were going to kill her.”

  “Which I had a right to!” he yelled, making me jolt. He took a step inside my room, not taking his angry glare off me. “Famiglia, Chris. Famiglia! That is what is important, not some sprite of a girl with fake white hair and a tongue that can seduce.”

  I shook my head. “She hasn’t seduced me.” I thrust the book out. “Look. This proves she’s a Stella.”

  He grabbed the book and flung it to the side, making me take a rapid step back. “You betrayed me,” he growled so low I almost didn’t hear him.

  I shook my head. “No, Nonno, I didn’t.”

  He took a step closer, forcing me to retreat more, my legs banging into my bed, shocked by what I was seeing.

  His gaze was murderous.

  He wouldn’t harm me, I reasoned. He wouldn’t. He’s my nonno.

  My grandfather leaned his face closer, fire flashing in his eyes. “You risked people discovering us. Do you know what would happen if humans knew we walked amongst them? It won’t just be the demons coming after us, it’ll be the whole world!”

  “I just wanted you to let her go,” I said, feeling the heat coming off him, his rage building. It was causing me to sweat literally, my fire abilities not giving me protection from another Seraph’s anger. If he lit up, it could still burn me, everyone’s fire different.

  He continued, “You not only put your life in danger, you risked mine, your mother’s, your father’s, as well as other Merges. We’re having enough trouble fighting demons, so much so that we had to run with our tails between our legs to this godforsaken place, yet you want to bring humans into the mix as though we don’t have it hard enough?”

  “I wouldn’t have done anything if you—”

  “Silence!”

  I jolted, the heat coming off him getting hotter. “Please, Nonno, you’re making it hot.”

  His glare intensified. “Because you betrayed me. Betrayed your own kind. I’ve told your parents what you did. Your mother cried, cried that you cared more for a crush than her safety.”

  “It’s not like that. I may like Catherine, but can’t you see that she isn’t what you think she is?”

  “No! I don’t care what colour eyes she has, or how beautiful she is. Demons can disguise themselves. Nothing is ever as it seems.”

  “They can’t disguise their true eye colour.”

  “Then maybe she’s not a Maris demon, but she is a demon. I feel it in my bones. I also feel that damn Maris rosary. It’s near. It’s trying to disguise itself and I have a feeling she knows why. I wanted to question her about it, yet you thwarted my efforts.”

  “Don’t lie, you were going to kill her.”

  His face went red. “Are you calling me a liar?!”

  “I didn’t mean it like—”

  “You did! You called me a liar.” He poked my chest, making me yelp, his finger burning a hole through my shirt. He dropped his hand, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but it hardened right back up, the burn small, no wider than a fingertip.

  He continued, “Even if I did dispose of the girl afterwards, that’s for me to decide, not you, boy. I’m the patriarch of this famiglia.”

  “Why can’t you see that she’s harmless?” I said, wincing. Although the burn was small, it still stung like a bitch. “You’ll be killing an innocent girl.”

  “Innocent?” He pointed to the bags under his eyes. “Look at my face, see what she’s done to me. I looked forty when I returned to New Zealand, now I look fifty. She’s killing me through her cursed beads!”

  “She got rid of the rosary, gave it back to some nun.”

  His eyes narrowed. “And I bet I know who that nun is.”

  “Who is it?”

  He sneered. “Why should I tell you that, Chris? How can I trust you after you betrayed me? The next time I go after that girl, will you throw a fireball at me instead of a house?”

  I shook my head vigorously. “I would never hurt you.”

  “You say that now, but what happens when you get so wrapped up with her, with her siren ways? You won’t be able to control yourself, because no matter what her eyes look like she’s a devil in disguise, and she’s already gotten a hold of you.”

  I shook my head again. “No, I love you, Nonno. I would never
hurt you. I’d rather die. And Catherine is innocent of what you say. She hates the rosary, doesn’t want it. She thinks it’s cursed too. She wants no part of being a Merge. She’s a Denier like Stephen’s parents.”

  My grandfather went silent for a moment, his forehead creasing into lines that shouldn’t be there. “You truly, honestly trust this girl? Trust her enough to know she wouldn’t harm you?”

  “Sì. If she couldn’t even fight a hold spell, she’s far too weak a Merge to age you. Plus, she willingly gave up the rosary.”

  “If you trust her so much, then bring her home,” my grandfather said. “I want to talk to her, to find out if it’s really her affecting me or someone else. If she’s innocent, I’ll back off.”

  “I don’t think she’ll come here after what you did, and even if she did agree, what guarantee will you give me that you won’t harm her, because, Nonno, I know you. You don’t change your mind this quickly.”

  He scowled at me. “There you go again, calling me a liar.”

  I shook my head. “No, I just know what you’re like. You get something into your head and you won’t stop going after it until it’s completed. If you want me to bring Catherine to the house so you can be judge, jury, and executioner, I won’t do it.”

  My grandfather’s scowl grew. “I promise on our famiglia that I won’t kill her at our house, but if you don’t bring her here for questioning, I will kill her elsewhere, because I’m running out of time. Understand, boy?”

  I nodded, not liking the situation at all, but knowing my grandfather wouldn’t stop if Catherine’s name wasn’t cleared.

  “Though, how am I supposed to get her here after what you did?” I asked.

  “I don’t care how, just do it or I’ll hunt her down and burn her alive like I did to Levy. That is a promise. You have a week.”

  Chapter 14

  ~ CATHERINE ~