02 Awaken-The Soulkeepers

by Adams, Lori

  “Shit,” he mutters, jerking his shirt back on. “Don’t freak out. They’re healing already, look.” He shows me his cheek and it’s true. The cuts are much improved in the span of mere moments. Michael comes at me but I press a hand to his chest. I give him a look that says We are not continuing until you explain. “Sophia, there’s nothing to talk about.”

  I scoot out from under him and lean against the headboard. I hug my knees and consider. The wounds are fresh. He must have gotten them just hours ago …

  Ah. I think I understand. “You got those training with the Halos. You don’t want to mention them because it will bring up my training that you so rudely interrupted.”

  Michael sits on the edge of the bed. He doesn’t confirm or deny. Then again, he doesn’t need to. I tell him we can’t possibly keep ignoring this conversation. We have to come to an understanding.

  “Yes,” Michael agrees. He pulls at my ankles, laying my legs across his lap. Then he snuggles close and looks into my eyes. “Understand that I love you, Sophia. More than anything. I want to be with you, forever.”

  “I love you, too, Michael. And we will be together, forever.”

  He shakes his head sadly because I don’t get the meaning between his words. Then he braces a hand on the headboard above me, dipping his head closer. He brushes his cheek against mine and pours love into my ear. “Sophia, I want to marry you.”

  My throat closes up as though it doesn’t want the sweet words to escape with my next breath. I clutch his shoulders and push him away to see his face. Peaceful and beautiful, drowsy with love, my angel. It makes my heart swell and throb against my ribs. There is not enough room inside me for all the love.

  Tears spike my eyes, and my mouth opens but nothing comes out. Michael says, “Do you want to marry me?” and I nod vigorously and finally gasp out, “Yes!”

  He wraps himself around me like the air I breathe. I’m bathed in his supernatural tranquility, his angelic happiness radiating through my body. I have a heightened sense of enlightenment that Rama Kuan would not believe, and I giggle at the thought.

  “What?” Michael asks, and I say, “Totally stoked to feel so righteous and pure.” Michael withdraws and looks down at me. His smile fades, and he stares without blinking. I brace myself for something bad.

  “Sophia, will you stop now? Will you please stop training and be my wife?”

  I’m slow to understand at first because I never expected this from Michael. “Is that what … is this a choice? Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

  My mind is teetering on a precipice. This can’t be happening. Michael would never …

  His mouth is full of silence. Full of excuses and reasoning that I don’t want to hear. He won’t lend them sound because I am to discover my own answers.

  A thousand arguments swirl around me, and I snag one and throw it at him. “We don’t even know if we can get married, do we?” My voice is a slap that makes him flinch.

  “I know a guy,” Michael mumbles.

  I sputter something inhuman, and then say, “Oh! So now you know a guy? What does that even mean?”

  “He used to be a Seer for The Council but he’s kind of been … disavowed. I’ll ask him to unite us in a hieros gamos, a holy marriage.” He reaches for my hand but I jerk away. I stare into my lap as though I’ve inadvertently dropped the solution there. Michael has thought this out, but what is he really asking? What does he want?

  “Plain English, Michael. You want me to give up becoming a spirit walker and marry you. And if I don’t, you won’t marry me. It’s over. Is that it?”

  “Sophia, please. I’ve told you how dangerous it is. And I’m sure Raph and Kanati and Chang`e, everyone, has told you. Walking in the spirit world is one of the most dangerous things a human can do. Spirit walkers are killed all the time. Killed or dismembered or taken below where their bodies are sold for parts.”

  “Oh, please.” I cross my arms over my chest. I think he’s exaggerating just to scare me, but probably not. “You’re right, everyone has told me the dangers, and I still want to be one.”

  “A foolish dream you’re only chasing because of your mother.”

  I sit upright like I’ve been poked with the truth. “You think I’m doing this for my mom?”

  “You think your mother was supposed to be a spirit walker and somehow failed. You think you have something to prove. Well, Sophia, I’ve asked around and no one can verify that your mother had an unfulfilled Awakening. So whatever she was meant to be, it must’ve been something else. She wasn’t meant to be a spirit walker, and you shouldn’t be one either.”

  We’re at a stalemate, and my eyes well with tears for the second time. I like the first time better. My gut is twisting with fear and doubt, but mostly anger. This is so unfair, and so I tell him.

  “Michael, you know this is so unfair. You’re out chasing your dreams, and I’m forced to give up mine.”

  Michael lowers his chin with a genuine look of shame. “It’s the only way to keep you safe, Sophia. I just don’t …” He covers my hands with his. “Tell me … why is it so important for you to become something else? What are you searching for? Why am I not enough?”

  “Oh, Michael, you are enough!” I clutch his shoulders and force him to look at me. “It’s just that … you remember the night you took me flying for the first time? Back in October? I said you were changing me, making me want things beyond myself. Remember? Well, that night I discovered that I was meant for something more. I realized it up there in the clouds, drifting quietly with you. I felt it in my bones; there was a reason for my visions. And I know now that I’m supposed to be a spirit walker. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do this together. Does it?”

  Michael looks grave, torn. His eyes close as though he’s in pain. I scoot closer, desperately gripping his hands. “Michael, if I asked you to stop training with the Halos, would you?”

  His eyes pop open. “Yes. I would stop.” He is alight with eagerness, but I shake my head.

  “And I would never ask you to stop. You see? I understand that it’s your calling. Please understand that becoming a spirit walker is mine.”

  Michael becomes still, and his voice is low and gruff with emotion. “Sophia, you have opened me up to more love than I thought possible. It’s been overwhelming at times, completely unnatural to me and beyond my imagination. You see, you have changed me, too. I want things I never thought possible. And I’m willing to give everything up to be with you. I want to be by your side, always. I want to protect you from harm. And I can, here and now. But you know even I have limitations. If you become a spirit walker, it will not be within my power to protect you in the spirit world. You’ll go where I can’t follow. Please, please, Sophia, don’t go where I can’t follow.”

  I pull my hands from Michael’s and cover my face, bursting into tears. It’s too much, hearing Michael beg, seeing blue tears pool in his eyes. My stomach is in knots; it’s an impossible situation. God, this hurts! It’s so unfair! So unfair!

  My second heartbeat is raging out of control and then … nothing. A breeze ruffles my hair and I reach out, blind with tears. Michael is gone and I fall into an empty pillow.

  Chapter 13

  The Vacant Space Within

  It’s late afternoon, and I assume it’s bright and chilly out. I wouldn’t know because my curtains have been closed for two days and my room is dark. My iPod has one job, to play “Stars” by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals. I’m drowning in lyrics and tears. Just drowning and drowning, over and over again. It’s gut-wrenching because all my internal organs have been systematically ripped away. There is nothing left but shredded seams and the rattling echoes of each breath.

  I haven’t moved from my bed except to pee and bring in water and a box of dry cereal. The bed sheets and pillowcases are soaked with tears and sweat from restless nightmares. There is a funky aroma that will make hair stand on end, but I’m beyond caring. I’m in mourning or shock or just dead, for all in
tents and purposes.

  I’ve sent Rama away each day and he’s worried, but I can hardly explain my broken heart. Even when he reminds me that we are far behind schedule, it doesn’t register. The side effects of being dead inside. From the moment Michael and I began our relationship, I never once considered that we wouldn’t be together, forever. My insecurity of not measuring up was no match for the sense of knowing that we were meant to be together. Even with the threat of discovery by his family or some outside entity who could report us to The Council, I assumed we would find a way to outmaneuver them; love would find a way. I also never considered that it would be Michael and I who would ruin things.

  I ruined things.

  Why am I so obsessed with becoming a spirit walker? Why can’t I be happy with a simple quiet life married to a gorgeous spirit warrior? I could still graduate and shuffle off to college.

  Because Mom told me I come from a long line of spirit warriors myself. Because I have an unquenchable desire inside me that will not go away. It’s as close to a knowing of things as I’ve ever experienced. It is what it is.

  But I love Michael! I need Michael! He is the second half of my knowing of things to come. We were made to be together.

  And so goes the merry-go-round in my head. Forty-eight hours of this, and it’s no wonder I have a raging headache.

  There is whispering in the hallway, and Sundance’s tail tapping on the wood floor. He, like everyone else, has been shunned and none too happy about it. Dad never truly believed that I had a head cold on my first day of skipping school. Now I’m afraid he’s brought in reinforcements.

  The door creaks open and Sundance barrels in, jumping on the bed. I’m attacked on all fronts and I curl into a ball, jamming the pillow over my head.

  “And here I was, hoping you were spelunking in a cool blanket fort or at least a sheet cave,” Bailey says, strolling into the room.

  “Go away!” I yell from under the pillow.

  She exaggerates sniffing around. “Ooo, comrade tchotchke. I am suspect-ink that you’ve been sneak-ink the wad-ka.” I don’t laugh; I’m not in the mood.

  “I said go away.”

  She slunks down onto the mattress, making it bounce. “Sorry, no can do. Ser papa is worried. And so am I.” She tugs at the blankets and reveals my hiding spot. “Seriously, Sophia, you’ve missed a few key deadlines in astronomy and bio, and an essay in English lit. But what about your PowerPoint in foreign gov, you ask? Well, yours truly worked a little midnight magic, courtesy of the Internet and a trolling business major from Yale and voilà, you downloaded a presentation you never wrote. Just under the deadline. Stock portfolio is taking a nosedive, by the way. Plus, you owe me a fitty for Yale boy.”

  “In what language should I translate, go away!”

  Bailey huffs and looks around. She gets up and throws open the curtains, and I cringe like Dracula. Quit that! The window slides up, and a blast of cold shoots across the room. I’m freezing in an instant. Quit that, too! Now I hear people down in the square, bells ringing, holiday music crackling from speakers, kids squealing, the low hum of the snow makers doing their thing. I haven’t seen the progress in days and wonder what the decorations look like. With a sad realization, I understand that life goes on without me. I want to ask if Michael has been at school, but I can’t give Bailey nosy ammo to fire back at me.

  “C’mon, Soph. I’m starting to seriously worry about you. Are you gonna tell me what this is about? I mean, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you had your heart broken. But since I do know better and you don’t have a boyfriend, I’m left to imagine all sorts of things. And we know what happens when sister starts imagining things.”

  “Shut the window,” I grumble, and wait until I hear it slide down. Then I wrangle myself out of the cocoon of sheets I’ve been living in for two days and sit up. My hair is in shambles and falls across my face. Bailey gives me a startled look and says, “Hurricane Sandy strikes again,” and I pffft hair out of my eyes.

  “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

  Of course, Bailey takes this like Gossip Girl and runs with it. “Rama Kuan told me about some demon hunters helping to train you. He said you had a pretty rough time of it. Is that why you’re going all Hobbit in the hole?”

  Oh, Lord! Is that what he thinks?

  “Got your ass kicked, huh?” Bailey nods with complete understanding and then starts mining through her pockets for some variety of cavity maker.

  “No! I did not get my ass kicked!” I bark out and then reconsider. “Well … maybe.” I suppose it is the truth, and it’s better to let them believe I’ve run away with my tail between my legs. Who cares anyway?

  I want to crawl back into my burrow but Bailey won’t have it. She reminds me that it’s Friday and the roads are open. The basketball game is back on, and I’m expected to take photos. Apparently, Miss Minnie and Mrs. Cooley requested that Bailey remind me of my pictographic obligations. Shit. I have zero desire to stand among cheering fans and snap photos of sweating athletes trying to pulverize each other.

  Being the control freak that she is, Bailey guides me into the bathroom, where I am ordered to get reacquainted with my shampoo. She sits on the bathroom sink while I shower and shave the forest that is my legs. All the while, she peppers me with questions about the demon hunters, and I explain as much as I can. I can’t tell her where we train, only that it involves cane poles and trees and pain. Lots of pain.

  “So is this Kanati guy hot?” she asks. I hear a scratching noise and peek around the shower curtain. She’s filing her nails.

  “Yeah, but you may not be the Lone Ranger to his Tonto. He’s off limits.”

  “Why is everyone involved with your training off limits, Dear Prudence?”

  I snap the curtain back in place. “They just are. Besides, I thought you and Duffy had some sort of agreement now.”

  “I suppose we do. Now that he’s promised to stop all jackassery.” She groans and tells me the steam is futzing with her hair and that she’ll wait downstairs. I take a few minutes to finish up and then head back to my bedroom. I stop in the doorway and peer around. The window is open again, and I shiver in my towel and turban.

  “Strange.” I hurry over, slam it shut, and lock it. I move through the motions of drying my hair and applying makeup. It’s hard when I don’t care, and I keep crying. Nothing seems to matter much anymore. Mostly, I find myself zoning out and replaying Michael’s ultimatum. Then I snap out of it and continue on autopilot. By the time I trudge downstairs, I have no idea what time it is or what I’m wearing.

  We have an early dinner with Dad before heading out. He’s brooding and watchful, wearing his old worried expression like it’s the only thing he could find in the closet. I know he wants the truth about whatever tragedy had me locked away for two days. I feel bad for worrying him so I reach over the dinner table and cover his hand with mine. He looks up, and I smile my best smile. He seems relieved, and I nod. I’ll be okay. We are made of tough stuff around here.

  Inside, my heart is ripping. It’s enough to make me a water fountain, and I jump up to clear the dishes in an awkward rush. I grab my camera and Bailey, and we walk quietly out the door. I’m gloomy again, and she takes note, staying respectively silent. We huddle in the cold air and walk around the park as the snow shepherds corral snow from the snow machines. They are packing great mounds for the sculptures and ice architects. The town square is gradually becoming St. Petersburg.

  * * *

  Our basketball team is slightly better than our football team but not as destructive as our hockey team. I roam the gym, snapping shots while inconspicuously looking for Michael. Raph, Milvi, and Uriel are here but no Michael. I try to avoid them, afraid I’ll lose control if they mention my training or Michael. But Raph catches me during halftime.

  “Sophia, where have you been?” He sounds urgent, worried. I shrug and fiddle with my camera, deleting bad shots. He pulls me aside and whispers, “Kanati and Chang`e said you
haven’t shown up in two days. You understand that Michael only sent you out of the barn that day because the Halos were coming. He can’t keep you from training there.” I bite my lips together and nod. “Well, what’s wrong then? Has something else happened?”

  I’m so tempted to purge everything, to relieve my burden about Michael and me, but I swallow it down. I may have ruined things between us but I can’t be responsible for ruining things between Michael and his family. Raph tips my chin up and I let him look into my eyes. His are bright blue and frantic, flicking back and forth as he assesses me. His brow twitches with a frown, but I have no idea what he’s sensing; I still feel numb and vacant inside.

  I tell him I’m sorry, just having a bad couple of days. He says I mustn’t be discouraged with my training; it’s normal to feel inadequate the first few sessions. He’s guessing at my emotions.

  “But, Sophia, you have to show up. Demon hunters aren’t accustomed to waiting around. I’ll stall them for as long as I can. Will you at least try to pull yourself together?

  I nod but don’t make any promises to be there. The buzzer sounds and the third quarter gets underway.

  * * *

  I’m sitting in my academic advisor’s office after school, listening to Mrs. Cunningham expound on the reckless disregard for my grades and college potential. I stare blankly; nod occasionally. She asks a question and I snap to.

  “Yes, I still plan to go to college,” I say on reflex.

  “You don’t sound very convincing. Perhaps I should send you to see Mrs. Patronus?” she says.

  She means Dr. Sasha Patronus, Milvi’s mother and Michael’s aunt. Sasha has recently been hired as the school psychologist. She’s very nice, but I have no desire to have my emotions analyzed by a member of Michael’s family. I post a winning smile.

  “Not necessary. Just got a little overwhelmed with trying to conquer the world. I’ll be fine.” I stand up to put an end to the session. I can only pretend for so long. Mrs. Cunningham quickly jots down a follow-up session that I’m not to miss, and I slip out the door.