Forgotten (33 page)

“
Hector?” Bree asked from
behind a book stand. “I found a book I’d like but it’s on the top
shelf. Where’s that ladder thing?”

“
Girl, you’re not about to
touch my ladder,” Hector said, turning his attention on Bree. “It’d
be my luck for you to fall and hurt yourself. What title did you
want?”

While they were busy
fetching a book, and flirting, I moseyed on over to the place I had
unexpectedly ran into Marco. I caught a faint whiff of his scent.
If I pretended I
was
the Chronicler and Jace’s guess about me being able to sense
peoples past was right, then it made sense why I smelled Marco’s
scent.

I remembered Marco tapping a book on a
shelf at the library. Was this what he was hinting about? I didn’t
know what book he was looking at but as soon as my fingers brushed
its own edges, I knew I’d found the right one because it carried
Marco’s spicy scent. It was old, falling apart old, but I had to
read it; even if the pages were worn they might help shed light on
my situation.

Smoke filled the room. I
coughed. I was the only one who made a noise, even though I could
feel vibrations roll across the floor. I felt it ripple through the
air, but only saw the shimmer of the blade before I was pushed
aside. A young man with dark brown hair grunted, as if he was
startled. A silver spear stuck out of the charred leg. Smoke
blocked out everything else in sight.

The man gripped the spear
to pull it out, when it disappeared. He applied pressure over the
wound on his leg with his hand. A scar on his thumb danced like a
thread the moment my pinky brushed against it.

“
Next time I go alone,” he
groaned. “The Rippler is guarding them, making sure you don’t find
them.”

“
They’re still a part of
me,” I said. “I need to know her plan for them. The Prophet said
our younger sister is going to be busy cutting as soon as Analee
figures out how to command the Scavengers.”

I stumbled when the vision cut out. I
shook my head and refused to think too deeply about it right now. I
plucked the book from the shelf only to shove it into my back pack.
I could have checked it out using my library card, but if the
deities’ secrecy was any indication, I had the impression that a
book like this wasn’t to be broadcasted about being read. And, I
didn’t want to explain why I needed a book when I couldn’t even
read it.

After bidding Hector good-bye, Bree
and I left for the diner to gobble up the brownie dessert she’d
been craving since first period. A few couples chatted in the
booths. Instructing Bree to take the far back booth, I followed her
lead.

“
I’ll make you a deal,” I
said after sitting down. “It’ll involve a double date with Ryker
and Jace.”

“I’m listening,” she said, failing at
not sounding too eager.

“
I need you to read
something for me,” I said, and pulled the worn book from my back
pack. “I’m hoping to get back into Mr. Tinsley’s good graces with
extra-credit essay paper. He wasn’t exactly impressed that I showed
up late today.”

“
Fine,” Bree said. “But
only if there is a ten page maximum clause. I’m not going to spend
the day with my nose in a textbook.”

If the book had a title or a copyright
date, it had long been rubbed off. “It says, and I quote, anyone
who reads this cannot utter a word about the immortal truth or they
shall find themselves in the poor company of the Reaper himself…
Winnie, what kind of a paper were you planning to
write?”

“
One he’s never read
before.”

Greek mythology told a
tale of an immortal race – a group of gods and goddess. Ireland
called them fairies. England thought of them as part of the
Nephilim race. Conversely, they prefer to address themselves as
deities. Regardless of heritage, their source of power was thought
to flow from the Elysian in their blood. They’re killable,
although, it comes with much effort. They’re the survivors of
history itself. Wars, plagues and treachery repeat; yet, this race
had survived it all. Stories have been exaggerated throughout the
ages, especially about their supernatural powers and unimaginable
riches, but one tale has been repeated for ages and appears to hold
some clout. If an offspring of a human and deity, spills Elysian
blood, the offspring will grow young instead of old. They’re
notoriously known as
H
unters
.

“
So these Hunters
are
deity hybrids
?” I questioned.

“
Appears so – it says that
the most heinous murders in history slaughtered countless souls in
hopes to shed Elysian blood. The Hunters gain one human lifetime
for every deity they kill.”

“
So they kill these deities
to become ageless?”

“
Looks like the Hunters are
trying to become immortal like the deities but have to keep killing
in order to stay young. I bet the deities don’t bump uglies with
humans anymore, because they basically were creating their own
worst enemy in doing so.”

Their immortality resided on three Fate
sisters. Rumors stated that they were the unsung queens of the
deity race and human race as well. The sisters’ immortality sealed
the deities’ immortality. However, their destiny would ride on the
hinges of the human race. When the Fate sisters were together, they
were ageless – immortal. When they were apart, their human
mortality aged them. Because of their Fate connection, this once
unstoppable race was inevitably hunted down and killed by their
offspring. Those who survived eventually faded from existence when
the Fate sisters aged and died.

“
That sucks,” Bree said,
pausing from the passage she read. “I was hoping superman really
did exist.”

“
I guess you have to settle
for the Hulk since superman is MIA,” I said.

“
Nope, all bit the bullet
when the sisters died,” Bree said. “Or they were killed by the
Hunters.”

It was said that the Fate sister with the
unseeing eye was their true leader and commanded the nameless
Scavengers – the Chronicler. She was able to change the course of a
human’s or deity’s fate by manipulating their thread of life.

Chaos and greed would flourish, as predicted
by the mute sister – the Prophet. She preferred to play with the
fate of groups, rather than individuals. She determined the length
of life, not only for her people but of all races.

The sister, who ends all life, would
eventually sacrifice her own – the Cutter. She was thought to live
on after her two sisters died, hopping from body to body. She
confides with guardian angels, if such a thing even exists.

“
It says that if the
unseeing sister is captured,” Bree read out loud, “She must grant
her vanquisher what their heart most desires, but only if they are
willing to kill her for it.”

***

Martha set the phone on the table
stand by the television. She informed me that a boy had called. I
frowned. If any guy called, wouldn’t they try my cell first? I
walked down the stairs.

Elsie’s voice came through the phone’s
speaker loud and clear. “–kiss was like?”

Jace’s beautiful, deep laugh echoed
through the phones speaker, causing my stomach to flutter. “She
won’t let me kiss her.”

“
Elsie!” I yelled. “Get off
the phone!”

She gasped, and slammed her phone down
onto whatever receiver she used. It rattled, but hadn’t
disconnected. Jace chuckled when John’s voice came over the
receiver to scold her for listening in on somebody else’s
conversation – privacy violation. He was well into the lecture
before noticing the phone wasn’t on the receiver.

“
You know you could have
just called me on my cell phone, right?” I said, taking the phone
upstairs with me.

“
Tried - but you didn’t
pick up.”

Rummaging through my pants, back pack,
Max’s doggy bag, I thought of every possible place I could have
lost it. “Looks like I’m disconnected until I can save up some
dough. Guess I’ll be cleaning at KnockOuts again.”

“
Take mine,” Jace
said.

“
Jace, I’m not going to
take –”

“
You’re a priority for all
of us,” he insisted. “Therefore, we need to be able to get a hold
of you. Besides, I’ll just buy another.”

“
So you’ll give me your
cell just because you’re afraid you won’t be able to get a hold of
me?”

Dial tone. I punched the redial
button, but there was no answer. Within a half an hour, a tap came
from my bedroom window. Jace’s silhouette hung in the tree –
nothing like having a guy hanging outside a window to draw unwanted
parental attention. I unlatched the window to let him
in.

“
I’m not going to wear an
electronic leash,” I said, blocking the window with my body. He
wasn’t going to make a habit about swinging through my window to
check up on me.

“
Glad we aren’t going to
let our nighttime activities affect our affiliation with each
other, because this love/hate relationship hasn’t been difficult to
keep up with or anything.” He nudged me out of the way and then sat
on the windowsill. He extended his hand, offering me his phone.
“It’s not a choice. I’ve already programmed my new number into
it.”

He just went out and
bought a new cell? How much money did he have to his name?
“Not a choice, my butt,” I said, and paced around
the room to keep myself from wanting to trace my finger down his
chest or do something regrettable with his lips.

He walked over and set the phone on my
dresser. The wood groaned under his weight. “Lily was murdered
because the Butcher thought she was the Chronicler, before you
traded places. I’m not going to take chance your life; you’re going
to take the phone. I can’t stay with you every night or monitor you
every second. The sheer amount of time we would spend together
would mostly likely end with you becoming an Addict; I promise you
the Craves can be much more unpleasant than what you felt
earlier.”

“
Why is everyone so
sure
I’ll become an
Addict?”

“
Mankind is extremely
susceptible to the Elysian flowing in our blood. It’s like a drug,
and will affect every human on a subconscious level. It flows
through us – attracting others by our beauty, how we sound, and
even our very touch.”

“
That is the reason why you
needed to build my tolerance?” I said, thinking out loud. “But I
wasn’t attracted to you right away; I was sick.”

Jace intercepted me while I made my
third pass by the night stand. He held me from behind. His hands
rested firmly on my arms, using just enough pressure to keep me
from moving. “You didn’t act like you were a human who’d been
exposed. You acted like you’d been around the Elysian your entire
life and were immediately going through withdrawals. Marco’s theory
is that your Elysian reacted so strongly to ours, that it
physically overwhelmed you.”

“
My tolerance has improved,
so why the concern that I’ll become an Addict?” I said, standing
utterly still in his arms.
What I’d give
to snuggle in closer.

Jace nuzzled his face in the nook
between my neck and shoulder blade. He said my name like I was his
saving grace. “Dearest, do you truly believe you wouldn’t begin to
crave me, or that you haven’t started to already?”

Point taken.
“So, you’re saying you could
make
me want you, essentially
stealing my freewill?”

“
I don’t want a mindless
drone, Gwyneth, which is why you’re taking my cell,” he said, and
then put some distance between us. “The Butcher nearly captured you
– again. He smells like rain and is of mixed offspring between us
and mankind. He grows young if pure blood – Elysian – is
shed.”

“
Why is he searching for
the Chronicler?”

“
There are many theories,”
Jace said, walking toward the window. I could hardly hear his
footsteps.

“
Humor me.”

“
He wants something only
she can grant,” he said and sat on the windowsill. “If you allow me
to heal you, we
have
to immediately look for the other sisters. If we break the
Oath, we’ll find a fate amongst the dead. But since we’ve made an
agreement about the investigation, I have no choice but to hunt the
Butcher down, before I can heal your sight.”

“
And then what?”

“
Kill him.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

As promised, Bree orchestrated a
double-date; by the end of the week, I found myself in a tea-length
dress, lacy sleeved gloves, and heels that Bree insisted were too
short, but allowed me to wear. Steam punk gone classic chic, she
called it. She’d vetoed nine other outfits before this one. When
one didn’t make me look chubby, it made me look plain. If one
actually made me look curvy, no shoes looked good. Since I couldn’t
say I wasn’t interested in Jace, I was at her mercy. However, when
she reached for my hairspray, I threw a fit any two-year-old
would’ve been proud of.

“
I don’t want it to look
like I tried too hard,” I insisted.