Book of Love (34 page)

“
Thank you, Wes.” Max
forced a smile, though I could feel he disliked my continued
thoughts on Jane.

I examined the feathers on his back,
circling him as he allowed me to observe. His face was a smug mask,
as though proud—as though better than me.

“
Feathers, huh?” I asked,
finding it a bit feminine.

Max laughed. “We can’t all be cougars, Wes.
And it’s not that feminine. Not like a feline can be.”

I hissed out of habit, and it came out
sounding lame. I felt frustrated. “So, what happened to Emily?” I
grumbled, stopping to stand before him, still a good distance away
in case he’d lied to me, leaving enough time to change and get
away.

“
Greg came to her after you
left. He played on her vulnerabilities, twisting her anger and
jealousy into hate. Now she’s been sucked into his world, and the
only way to get her out is with a special poison.”

I nodded, shoving my hands
casually into the pockets of the jeans. That’s when I realized that
these were probably
his
jeans… I took my hands out of the pockets.
“Special poison?”

He nodded. “It’s from a rare Brazilian frog,
but luckily for us, that rare frog won’t be so rare for you to
replicate.”

I felt smug as I puffed my chest. “And what
will this poison do?”

Max watched me with a smirk on his face. “It
will poison the demon inside her, so that she can come back to us.
It’s pretty run-of-the-mill stuff.”

I thought about it for a
moment, thinking that it really was rather serious, and certainly
seemed anything but
run-of-the-mill.
I exhaled, letting
the tightness in my chest go. “And then what?”

“
Then I’ll leave, and so
will my brother,” Max said it with confidence, but it didn’t cover
the hurt in his eyes, “…if that’s what you want.”

My memories were returning now, and I
recalled the reason why I was here to begin with. His attraction to
Jane was deep, this I could tell from my own turmoil over the
years, and the same quiver in his voice at the mention of her name.
The jealousy I felt toward Jane was also deep, but there was one
thing that set Max and I apart. Jane loved him back. I wanted Max
to leave, but I also didn’t want to see Jane sad.

“
Why leave? Why not kill
Greg instead?” The words were sweet on my tongue, still tasting the
thrill of the hunt I’d felt with the deer this morning.

Max took a step toward me, looking a little
shocked by the fact I’d basically admitted that maybe he should
stay—that maybe he was right for Jane, despite the fact that he had
a strange set of wings and a smell of death that was somewhat
unsettling. I guess to Jane, it was anything but.

“
If I kill him, it will be
suicide. Our lives are linked. He dies, I die.”

I reveled in the words, still seeing an
opportunity to tease. “And that’s a bad thing?” I lifted one
brow.

Max smiled. “It would be, considering I’m
Jane’s guardian angel. If I were dead, then she would be left
extremely vulnerable to other attacks. She has a rare form of
magick. My brother is not the only one out there that is hungry to
see her bleed.”

“
Her
guardian angel?” I was
confused. What died and made him so privileged?

“
I saved her when her
father died. If it wasn’t for me, she would be dead. Because of
this she and I are bound. In a way, we always have been. I’ve been
searching for her all my life, and—”

I laughed, stopping him there. I wasn’t
interested in hearing his sappy love story, especially when I had
my own in reference to Jane. “So, you were always there. You
watched her grow up?” I chuckled menacingly. “Well, that’s not
creepy or anything.”

Max had a half smile on his face, but said
nothing, acting smug as though acknowledging me would mean stooping
to my level of childishness.

“
So, how old are
you?”

Max looked at the sky, then the ground.
“About a hundred years old.”

“
A
hundred?”
I gasped. “That’s gross,
dude, seriously sick.” I shook my head. “So, what does being a
guardian angel entail, exactly?”

Max tilted his head, sizing up my question.
“When I died, I wasn’t ready to go. I stayed behind, and so did
Greg. I was an angel then, but saving Jane turned me into a
guardian.”

I snorted. “So you’re dead, like a ghost, or
something?”

Max shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

“
Shouldn’t you be like,
invisible? All smoke and cold air?” I thought of the ghost hunter
shows I watched on the Discovery Channel.

Max smirked. “I can be.”

Just like that, he was gone. “Max?” I
blinked, looking around the silent woods. I was alone. A cold chill
fell over me, and I spun, my arms flailing.

I heard Max’s laugh echo off the trees, his
figure reforming beside me. I swung at him, but he lunged away from
me, leaving a trail of black smoke.

My jaw clenched, realizing I’d been fooled.
“How are you dead if you’re here?” I spoke through clenched
teeth.

Max raised one brow. “I
say I’m dead because I don’t really have a heart beat. It feels
more like suspended animation, though I do age, only
very
slowly. I guess in
that respect, some part of me is alive. The only life I feel,
though, is Jane’s. She’s my connection to the human world I once
loved.”

I released my jaw. “Still, dude, that’s
weird.”

Max shook his head as he turned and walked
away from me.

“
Hey! Max! Where are you
going?” I yelled after him. “I wasn’t finished talking to you
yet!”

He lifted his hand over his shoulder as
though to blow me off. I stared at the wings on his back as they
slowly retracted into his spine. I stood still, grumbling under my
breath. Max stopped then, looking over his shoulder and motioning
me to follow.

I growled one more time and gave in.

Jane:

I lay my head against the pillow, my
sketchbook in hand as I re-traced a drawing I’d made long ago.
There was a fiery lion standing in the woods, watching me as though
protecting the ground I walked on. It had large wings, much like
Max, but they were ablaze like the rest of its body. I’d always
seen it as something evil, but when I looked again, its eyes in my
memories had changed to something different—something friendly. I
erased them, redrawing what I now saw before I laid the book beside
me, its eyes following mine.

Wes’s window was still dark, and Max hadn’t
yet returned. My mother had gone to bed hours ago, so when Max did
return, at least she wouldn’t notice his presence.

I was excited to see Wes, and not because I
found I’d had feelings for him, but because I missed him as a
friend. Max had explained to me that he figured he’d taken to the
woods, and I knew why. I was the only person in his life he could
talk to. I sighed—at least other than Emily.

The downhill slide of Wes and I’s friendship
had happened fast, and being that Wes was someone that wasn’t fond
of change, I was certain it had affected him on a deeper level than
it had affected me. I felt guilty that he felt that way, but I
couldn’t pretend to be in love with him when I saw that there could
be someone better.

I felt my eyes grow heavy, and though I
wanted to wait up for them to return, I couldn’t. I felt the sweet
velvety release of sleep wash over me, followed by a heavy mist. I
woke in my dream as I lay in an old freestanding tub, my hair
cascading out behind me as my head rest on the ledge. The water was
cold, and the room grey. There was a window above me, shining white
light across the walls. I moved and the water moved with me,
splashing over the edge and onto the floor.

I turned in the tub, looking behind me and
into the vastness of room I was previously turned away from. The
room was made of stone, signs of age showing upon its crumbling
surface. There were two large mirrors on the wall, both coated with
a thick layer of dust. Two more windows filled the far wall, light
pouring through the glassless cavity.

I shivered and placed my hands on the side
of the tub, lifting myself out of the water as it ran down my body.
I stepped from the tub, leaving a pool on the stone floor. Loose
bits of sandy rubble dug into my feet, clinging to the
dampness.

A soft white dress hung from a hook on the
wall. I reached for it. Pulling it over my head, it draped down my
body, clinging to my skin. The house was abandoned. I knew this
because there was no way someone could possibly live in such
disarray. Some of the windows were missing glass, and leaves were
blown into the corners of the room. I walked to the window and
looked outside, seeing the yard was overgrown, the house surrounded
by forest. I turned back to the room, walking to one of the
mirrors. There was a basin of water and I ran my finger through it,
seeing bits of organic debris swirl inside.

I looked up into the mirror, but my own
reflection was absent. I looked deeper into the mirror and then
looked behind me, seeing it was indeed reflecting the room I was
in, but still, I wasn’t there.

Frightened, I backed away from the mirror,
making my way to the door of the room. I grabbed the cold rusted
handle and yanked hard. The door gave, but dragged across the rough
floor as dust fell over me. Once the door was open wide enough, I
hurried out, finding myself in a long dark hall. There were dusty
paintings lining both walls, and a long thin table where leaves and
old candles were scattered.

I slowly made my way down the hall, debris
crunching below my feet. I looked up at the paintings, but
recognized no one. They wore clothing that was dated, clearly
signifying both their age and social rank as they dripped with
jewels. It was then that I heard someone crying, and my pace slowed
in order to hear.

The crying was low and even, like a small
child. I walked in the direction of the cries, finding myself face
to face with a large wood door at the end of the hall.

“
Hello?” I asked, but my
voice was just a whisper.

I knocked on the door, and as I did, the
door opened slightly. I heard the cries clearer now, a whimper that
was so sad, and so lost, that I felt it inside my own heart. I
pushed the door open softly, looking in on the room that was
beyond. The walls were just as grey as all the others, the light
dusted with age. There was a large bed in the middle of the room,
draped with white curtains and sheets. I walked in, treading
lightly. As I drew close, I saw that there was someone lying on the
bed, the cries coming from them. Mirrors were leaned up against the
walls on either side, but still, I couldn’t see myself in them.

I approached the foot of the bed, and the
girl stopped crying.

“
Hello?” I
asked.

I circled the bed, the girl’s face now
visible. At first I couldn’t recognize her through the sad
expression, but as I saw the color of her familiar brown eyes, I
knew it was Emily. Her skin was soft, her gaze void of the darkness
I’d seen. I touched her auburn hair, comforting her as tears fell
onto the bed.

“
Emily,”
I whispered her
name.

She watched me, drying her eyes with a
shaking hand.

“
Emily, you’re okay,” I
continued. She still didn’t answer, but her eyes said what her
mouth couldn’t. She was frightened. She was weak. I caressed her
hair over and over, wanting to comfort her. This was my dream, and
I knew she was only here in thought, but at least she was here—at
least she had found me.

Emily’s whimpers returned, but there was
nothing I could do to reach her. I leaned down and kissed her head,
humming to her the way I used to when she was small. She felt cold,
but my own skin felt cold as well. She sniveled as I leaned back.
Grabbing my hand, she looked at me, her eyes like darts.

“
Help me.”

Jane:

Something cold touched my arm and I was
whisked from the dream, sitting up straight in bed with a yelp. I
was met by a strong set of arms, wrapping me in a comforting chill.
I looked up, the dim morning light glowing across half of Max’s
face. I put my hand to my chest, taking a deep breath.

Max smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he
whispered.

I was so relieved to see he was back that I
wanted to kiss him, but I looked past him then, seeing Wes standing
in the background with his arms crossed. Wes was wearing an outfit
I’d never seen him wear before, in a style he hated. I smirked,
knowing they were Max’s clothes.

“
You found him,” I
gasped.

Wes rolled his eyes. “I’m
not giving you a reunion hug. Not after
he
touched you.” He sounded bitter,
and I wasn’t about to press.

I sat back against the headboard, still
trying to shake away the dream. Wes looked different, though only a
few days had passed. He seemed wild, taller, his eyes sharp and on
edge—nothing was the same.

“
As I thought, he was easy
to find,” Max replied, looking over his shoulder at Wes.

Wes snorted, turning away
from us. “I
let
you find me. That’s the only reason you did.”

I giggled, knowing that wasn’t true. “So,
what’s the plan?” My voice was low. The last thing I wanted was my
mother waking up to find me alone at five thirty in the morning
with two boys in my room.

Max walked to my desk and sat in front of
the computer, turning it on. “We need to get an antidote.”