by Tiffany King
Page 15
"I dabbled in the movie business in the early nineties, but not aging made that a career that couldn't last long–even by Hollywood standards. I worked as a ranch hand in the sixties, but that got old pretty quick. "
"Why even bother working?" I asked.
"Eternity has its draw backs, like boredom. You're the most interesting thing to come around in the last thirty years," he answered, winking at me. "Now, quit stalling. What are the terms of your parole?"
"They're really not that big a deal. Obviously, my aunt and uncle would like to meet you, which is reasonable. "
"And?" he asked, seeing through my evasive answer.
"And they want you to stay for dinner," I answered brightly, going for a peppy cheerleader voice that just came out awkward.
"Oh, here we go. Is that all?"
"Um, Haniel will be at dinner too and we have to double date and there's nothing we can do about it if we want to see each other so just be cool okay?" I said in a muddled rush.
"We have to date with Haniel? What the hell?"
"No, no, not a double date with Haniel. We're going to double with my friend Lynn and her husband. Haniel is coming over for the dinner with my aunt and uncle," I clarified.
"You're serious? And Hannie agreed to this?"
"Sure," I answered, not admitting the complete truth that Haniel had grudgingly agreed to the whole plan.
"Riiiiiight. I'm sure Archie jumped right on board," he said sarcastically.
"Well, those are the rules. Take 'em or leave 'em," I answered abrasively. I drew the line at begging him. His kisses may make me melt like molten lava, but I'd be damned if I followed him like some lovesick puppy.
"I'll take them," he said, pulling me close in one swift movement.
"Good, 'cause you deserve a punch in the nuts for what you've been pulling," I warned as he dipped his head to my exposed neck.
"Why?" he murmured against my skin.
"You're always leaving me high and dry. Did you see my bathroom door?" I asked trying to keep my senses about me.
"Sorry, babe, but unless you want your aunt and uncle to catch us like this, I better head out," he said, looking at me with hooded eyes before nipping playfully at my lips. "I'll do your dinner thing tomorrow night if that's cool. It'll be entertaining to act like a human for a night," he added, dropping his lips one last time to mine and then he was gone.
Taking several breaths, I was relieved his kisses were still just as intoxicating and made my toes curl in anticipation. I wasn't acting like some fainting twit, was I? If so, I couldn't help it. His lips felt like a light rain on a peaceful day, sunshine on a cloudless day, a volcano waiting to erupt. They were everything I could never have imagined and everything I would've never thought to wish for.
I tried to shake the cheesy thoughts away, but one thing was abundantly clear. Fainting twit or not, I wanted more.
"Did you ask your friend about dinner?" Krista asked, coming up the stairs with water still dripping off her. It was clear by their somewhat guilty expressions that they had cut their nighttime swim short because of Emrys.
"Yeah, he's coming tomorrow night if that's okay?" I answered, shoving any further thoughts about Emrys's lips into a secret drawer in my head to be analyzed later when I was alone.
"That works," Krista said, accepting the towel Mark had retrieved from the outdoor cabinet.
"Thanks, babe," she said, hanging it on a hook by the outdoor showerhead Mark had installed.
"I'm whipped. I think I'm going to head to bed," I said, stifling a yawn as Krista and Mark rinsed off together under the shower. "You want me to clean up the kitchen before I hit the sack?" I asked, hoping she'd say no. All my extracurricular activities had left my body begging for sleep.
"No, we got it. You look worn out," Krista observed as Mark wrapped one of the striped oversized beach towels tightly around her body. "Trying to butter me up?" she quizzed Mark as he tucked her under the crook of his arm to help warm her. "Don't think that's going to get you off the hook, buddy," she warned lightly, shooting him a look that spoke volumes.
"Is that a fact?" he asked, pulling her in close.
I left them to their light flirtatious banter. Despite Krista's offer, I decided to detour into the kitchen anyway to give it a quick cleaning before bed. I figured it was the least I could do since they'd offered up an olive branch. Not to mention, judging by the smoldering stares they had shared, they'd be busy for a while.
By the time I was done with kitchen I was dead-ass tired. I climbed into bed with Mouse and within moments I was out. The last thought I remembered was Emrys. Everything after that…blank.
***
The sunshine streaming through my French doors seemed brighter than usual the next morning. I was full of nervous energy, which wasn't exactly uncharacteristic for me. The reasons were just different today. I didn't know how I was going to stay busy until tonight. Cleaning my room would kill the majority of the day, considering I hadn't touched it in a while. "What the hell," I thought. I stripped my bed, tossed the sheets in the hamper, and hastily made my bed with a new set. I was too keyed up to make it the way I normally liked. I pretty much just tossed the sheets on in a half-assed manor, not bothering to smooth them out. Typically, the wrinkles would have set my teeth on edge, but it just didn't seem to matter as much today. My deep plum-colored comforter covered them anyway. That was about all the focus I could muster. The rest of the time I basically fluttered around my room, leaving a bigger mess than what I'd started with. I think I started like ten different tasks, but didn't finish any of them. Finally, I stood in the middle of my room which looked like a tornado had ripped through it. It turned out to be a disgusting waste of time, and after another half hour of mindlessly moving my belongings around, I stomped out of my room.
"Morning, sunshine," Krista chirped, taking in my scowl.
"Whatever," I muttered, pouring myself a steaming cup of pumpkin spice-flavored coffee. After I had doctored it up to my liking, I slumped down on the stool at the counter.
"Bad morning?" Krista laughed. "I thought you'd be all sunshine and daisies today. "
"I feel like such a doof, fluttering around my room like a confused butterfly because some guy is coming over. Not to mention the fact that the butterfly has taken up residence in my belly," I griped, taking a sip of my scalding drink. I welcomed the way it burned my tongue and then resumed its fiery journey down my throat. The heat brought some of my hazy senses back into focus.
"Aww, that's so sweet, you're nervous," she teased. "Don't worry, from what I've witnessed, the Soul Trader seems quite enchanted with you. "
"I am not nervous," I said, glaring at her over the rim of my ceramic mug. "As long as Haniel and Mark behave, I'll be fine. "
"Not nervous, gotcha," she said, shooting me a knowing look. "Don't worry about the guys. I'll kick them if they get out of control. We just want to get to know him, which is okay, right?" she added. Even though she acted like she had my back, she also had her own agenda for the night.
"Yeah, I guess," I agreed, rinsing out my coffee mug in the sink before placing it in the dishwasher. "I think I'm gonna go do some training," I added, heading out of the kitchen.
"Be careful," she called after me.
"Sure," I lied. Careful was the last thing I planned on being.
Haniel was waiting for me when I stepped out on the patio.
"I'd like to do some terrain training today," I greeted him.
"Terrain training?" he asked, knowing my usual distaste for it.
"Yes, the tougher the better," I clarified, bending down to double-knot my boots.
"I assume a warm climate?" he asked, noting my black yoga pants and white tank top.
"Either, it doesn't matter," I answered, bouncing slightly on the balls of my feet. I was ready to partake in an activity that would shift my focus and speed the day along.
"You will need warmer clothes and your running shoes," he stated, picking up on my agitated mood.
"Okay, I'll be back in five," I said, racing off to my room to grab my favorite hooded sweatshirt. It had a picture on it depicting a zombie chasing humans with a caption that read "Zombies hate fast food. " I pulled off my combat boots and tossed them toward my closet. After lacing up my Nikes with deft fingers, I raced out of my room. "Be back later," I called out to Krista who was leaning against the kitchen counter sipping a mug of hot chocolate.
"Be careful," she repeated like I didn't hear her the first time.
"Sure," I lied again, jogging back out to Haniel. "I'm ready," I said, skidding to a stop in front of him.
He nodded and grasped my hand within his. Our patio disappeared and was replaced by lush green grass.
"Where are we?" I asked, shivering as I pulled my hoodie on over my head.
"Inukjuak," Haniel answered, waiting for me to adjust my sweatshirt. "Quebec," he added when I raised my eyebrows, confused as ever. He knew that I liked to keep track of my geographical locations. I kept a journal in my room of all the places I'd visited with date, time, temperature, and terrain listed in it. I also made it a point to try to bring back a small piece of the location, whether a rock, a leaf, or even a stick. Anything that was tangible proof that I'd been there.
"It's chilly here," I said, rubbing my hands up and down my arms.
"The locals believe it is warm," he said, pointing down into the village that rested in the valley below where we stood.
If I squinted, I could make out children running around playing tag in shorts and t-shirts. Not a jacket in sight that I could see. "It has to be forty degrees out," I said.
"Current temperature is forty-seven degrees," he clarified.
"Sheesh, they're crazy," I said, turning back around to take in the rolling terrain that surrounded me. Gentle rolling hills stretched out as far as the eye could see. I smiled with satisfaction. Haniel had done well. Running was the sure-fire way to take my mind off certain thoughts of a hot Soul Trader.
"Ten miles?" Haniel quizzed me as I bent over to stretch out my legs.
"We can start with that," I answered, not sure how long it would take me to outrun the nervous energy that cloaked me like a heavy winter jacket.
"We will meet there," Haniel said, pointing in the direction he wanted me to run.
"Sure thing," I called over my shoulder, already trotting away. Within seconds, I was running at my normal six-minutes-per-mile pace. As my body fell into a rhythm, I was thankful Haniel had suggested my running shoes. The grass cushioned my feet as I made my way up the first hill. Sweat began dripping down my back before I'd finished my first mile, so without pausing, I pulled off my sweatshirt and knotted it around my waist. I was relieved that my erratic energy had found an appropriate outlet, but I was dismayed that the mindless task had the opposite effect at keeping thoughts of Emrys at bay. He was with me with every breath I exhaled and inhaled. He was with me as I crested one hill after another, and he was still with me as I finally came upon Haniel an hour later.
"Not done yet," I said, turning back around and heading back the direction I had just come from. I picked up my pace, pushing myself harder. Thoughts of Emrys were finally pushed aside as I paced my speed at a four-minute mile. Maintaining the speed going down the hill was pretty simple, going up was a different story. It required discipline to not slow due to the natural push of gravity.
I reached Haniel about forty minutes later, a personal best, despite the more difficult running conditions.
Haniel nodded his head in approval when I pulled to a stop next to him, breathing slightly heavy from exertion. "More?" he asked.
I considered his question for a moment. Part of me felt I had plenty in my energy reservoir to run more, but before the idea could take root, the muscles in my legs began to quiver in protest. They were used to hard terrain running over rough conditions, but the longest distance I'd ever run was fifteen miles, and that was on the flat beaches back home.
"I better not. My legs are threatening mutiny," I answered reluctantly, looking back at the rolling hills that had served their purposes well.
"Ready, then?" Haniel asked, not one for extended conversations.
"Yeah, let's go," I answered, reaching for his hand.
My quivering leg muscles were working overtime by the time my feet hit the patio. My body urged me to find the closest chair and collapse, but my mind knew that doing so would only make it worse. Instead, I slowly walked the perimeter of the patio, giving my legs the opportunity to cool down. I expected Haniel to disappear in his typical abrupt way after a workout, but he continued to watch me as I walked.
"What?" I finally asked, knowing he wanted something.
"Why does the Soul Trader interest you?" he asked, studying me intently like I was a puzzle piece that refused to go in its rightful place.
"Is it any of your business?" I asked, sick of his prejudice against Emrys. "You know before he was a Soul Trader he was a human, right? Your Light created him. "
"The Light created you as well," he said, looking concerned by my phrasing.
"If you say so. I wouldn't be surprised if some alien ship dropped me off here. That would explain the memory loss. Is that your big secret, Haniel? Did I come from plant Freak or some bullshit like that?"
"Aliens do not exist," Haniel answered, ignoring my swear word. "Why does the Soul Trader interest you?" he repeated.
"I don't know, Haniel. What do you want from me?" I said, finally sitting on the ground so I could do leg stretches. "Maybe he interests me because he bugs you so much, or maybe he interests me because he's not intimated by you like everyone else seems to be," I added tightly.
Haniel wasn't one to take offense, so my words were falling on deaf ears. He continued to wait, insisting on an answer.
"God, fine. I'm interested in him because he makes me feel normal, special, unique, and interesting all at the same time. He doesn't study me like some freaky lab experiment, but more like someone he'd like to spend time with," I finally said to get him off my back.
"That is important to you?"
"Well, duh," I answered, surprised at his ignorance.
