Redemption (11 page)

“Something is going on here, Day."

 I looked at him a moment before answering. His face was a lot more rugged than I remembered. Maybe because I’d never really looked at it before. Or I had but never this closely.

“No shit,” I said in return. “One sleepover and there's suddenly invisible people after me, dark visions, and something strange about the Abbey. I think you guys made hash brownies and didn’t tell me about it.”

Conor laughed sarcastically. “That’s hilarious, Red."

“I try.”

 Conor shook his head and moved closer. The discomfort level climbed again.

“It does seem like we’re making a big deal out of nothing, but Monroe’s visions have been pretty dead-on in the past. They’re not something to shrug off,” Conor pointed out. I knew that. I did. I put my face in my hands.

“God, we’re a weird group,” I muttered. Conor snorted.

That was an understatement. Monroe and Lita were both Wiccans, Monroe was a visionary, and Jacin was a football player with a less-than-desirable home life and a very strange gift. While Lita’s family was pretty lax on the rule system, they still loved her and accepted her eccentric ways. Hell, she even had a grandmother who practiced voodoo in its most extreme form. Jacin’s family, on the other hand, was a different story. His father was a lawyer who wouldn’t take anything less than perfection. Jacin usually gave him that. But there were some things your nature couldn’t hide. The fact that Jacin saw auras was one of them. I wasn’t lying when I said our group was weird. As for Conor, I suspected something was different about him, but he never revealed it. His mother was a real estate agent who read palms on the side. That was the only freaky thing I knew about him.

“We’re friends for a reason,” Conor remarked.

I gave him a look. While there seemed to be something unique about everyone in the group, the only thing strange about me was the fact that I pretty much lived in a church. Conor put a finger under my chin. I fought not to pull away.

“I told you your face is as open as a book, sweetheart. You’re just like the rest of us. You don’t have an aura. Jacin has never seen one around you."

 I pulled away from him. We might all be different, but we never discussed what made us that way. It didn’t seem right that we were discussing it now and all because of me.

“Let’s drop it,” I said.

Conor might not agree, but he didn’t argue. The silence between us grew. I sneaked a glance in his direction. His face was tilted, a strand of hair falling forward along his forehead. His jaw was set. I was more aware of him than I ever had been. It was at that moment, I realized that Conor was as close a friend to me as Monroe. He had always been there, in the background, picking us up whenever we fell. He caught my stare and smiled.

“I never pegged you for a pink girl,” he joked.

I think he was trying to relieve the tension, but it made heat climb up my neck anyway. His eyes dropped to my bra strap, and I smacked him. He stood up and backed away, his hands held out in front of him.

“You’re becoming rather abusive. Should I be concerned?”

I laughed and pointed at my window.

“Get out of here, Con."

He saluted and walked to the open sill. I followed him over. He started out, pausing briefly with one foot still braced inside my room.

“Stay safe, Red,” he whispered, his hand coming up to rest against my cheek. I probably should have pulled away but I didn’t. His gaze fell on my shoulder again.

“Just so you know, pink suits you."

His face was suddenly serious. We were entirely too close. His gaze fell to my lips. My pulse picked up. I liked Conor, but it was a little too soon to know how much. I didn’t know how to reply to that and Conor didn’t wait for a reaction. Pulling himself over the side, he pulled away from me and scaled down the ladder easily with a grace that seemed strange for his height. I watched him go down the driveway, his figure fading into the distance. I was deep in thought when my phone beeped at me from my pocket. Pulling it out, I flipped it open and glanced at the screen. It was a text message from Monroe.

Did Conor stop by?

Talk about timing. I stared at the screen a moment, glancing only briefly at the window before answering.

He did.

It took less than a minute before she replied.

How did it go?

I almost laughed.

Are you trying to set me up?

 I was being blunt and I wasn’t sure she’d answer. She didn’t make me wait long.

Who me? Nah. Just wanted to make sure you were ok.

 I cocked my brow. Conor wasn’t a liar. None of my friends were.

Yeah, right.

A second later a
:D
appeared on the screen. I laughed.

I really was worried.

She texted suddenly. I smiled softly. I knew she was. She’d do anything to keep me safe. I’d do the same.

I know. I’m ok.

I answered her back quickly. There was a pause between texts, and I stripped down hurriedly, grabbing a pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top out of a hanging dresser drawer. It was the one I’d relieved my stress on earlier. Conor hadn’t helped. It’d have to be fixed for sure now.

He’d be good for you. 

Monroe texted just as I lay down in the bed. I pulled the covers up to my chest. I knew it! What the hell? She could have at least warned me before sending Conor in like that. He wasn’t the type to hold back.

I’m not sure that’s true. 

I answered back.  My phone beeped again.

Give it some thought, Day. I’m worried about you. The vision has me scared. I feel safer knowing he’s keeping an eye on you. I wish you would leave the Abbey.

Monroe texted. I closed my eyes briefly. There was more behind her words.

What aren’t you telling me, Roe?

I asked her. There was a long pause and my eyes began to drift shut. I was just about asleep when the phone vibrated and beeped. I lifted it wearily.

When Jacin saw your aunt today, he said her aura was black.

My eyes shot open. I think she knew the remark would startle me because she texted again. This time it was to check if I was okay. I didn’t answer. The phone kept beeping. She knew me well. I didn’t have it in me to answer back. The next text was to tell me she loved me and to call or text if I needed her. I nodded as if she could see me. Sleep was a long time coming. Aunt Kyra’s aura was black?

Chapter 8

He has come for her. I knew he would. He is enchanted by her fire, her thirst for life. I fear for her. But I cannot come. I cannot save her. May God have mercy on her soul.

~Bezaliel~

“You have to close your eyes, Day,” my father whispered, his hands closing over my face gently but near enough my lashes brushed up against his palms. Butterfly kisses. I had to fight the urge to giggle.

“What am I looking for?” I asked him, not for the first time.

He leaned in closer from behind me, his breath fanning along my neck as he bent even more to accommodate my height.

“The light, Day. Always look for the light."

I squinted against his hands. I wanted so very badly to get this right, to hear approval in his tone as a conclusion to whatever lesson I was supposed to be learning, but my mind was blank. I did not understand him, in so many ways.

“I can’t see anything. There’s only darkness!” I cried. This was ridiculous.

Dad didn’t move, just grew very still in that way of his, the one that reminded me in vivid detail of a marble statue I’d seen in a museum once. It was a little scary.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as the seconds ticked by.

He didn’t remove his hands. The silence stretched.

“There is always light in the darkness, Day,” Dad said suddenly.

I almost jumped as his voice boomed around me. He wasn’t yelling. He just wasn’t whispering anymore. Dad had what I liked to call a large voice. He spoke. You listened.

“You need to learn to look past the dark. If you don’t, it can consume you."

 I opened my eyes to look at the back of his hands. I didn’t understand that word consumed. I said it to myself as I stared at the lines etched into his palms. They almost seemed to glow. His hands dropped, but he still held me away. The sun was setting behind us, and our shadows loomed large against the ground, his monstrous one looming over my smaller one. I felt like I was going to cry, and I hunched in on myself as I watched his broad shoulders lift in a sigh.

“Don’t worry, Day. It’s not your time yet,” Dad said.

His shadow hand came to land gently on my small shoulder. His skin was warm. I wanted to lean into it, but I was too hurt by my own sense of failure. I would never understand him.

“I never get it right!”

Stomping my foot, I pouted. He stood and moved around me then, his face stone-like and solemn.

“Day
—
”

 I stomped again anyway. I knew I was throwing a fit, but I didn’t care.

“Amber always gets everything right. Always!” I whined.

Dad studied me a moment before kneeling down in front of me.

“Amber is . . . different,” he said slowly, as if carefully weighing his words, “And it’s good that you two aren’t alike. You are special, Day. There’s a fire in you no one else can see. Not yet, but it’s there."

 I squinted up at him. I didn’t understand this stuff about fire, but dad looked so sure, so confident that it made me feel a little better. It didn’t stop me from stomping my foot again though just for good measure. Dad smiled.

And then the darkness came.

Confusion engulfed me. The scene changed. It was like someone pulled a rope and the backdrop was different.

It was sudden, the rain, but I felt it pelting my body unmercifully as the clouds came tumbling one over another across the sky—thick, black, and ominous. I wanted to scream but nothing came out. Lightning flashed in jagged lines across the sky and mud started to slide in large avalanche-like chunks as water piled on top of water. The rain hurt, digging sharply into my skin, and I cried.

“Run, Day. Look for the light,” I heard him whisper in my ear, but when I started turning to look for him, the space behind me was empty. The rain was coming harder, more brutal, like fingers trying to peel away the skin.

“Run. . .” I heard again.

This time I listened, slipping and sliding as I tried to get my feet into the sucking mud. I kept falling, my knees gripped by the punishing ground. I cried harder. Blood was dripping from my face, and I worried skin had indeed been peeled away. I tried running again. I had to run. Had to!

“Dad!” I screamed as I fell again, the earth trembling beneath my knees, bucking and rolling till fissures began to open up along the ground, widening until a large hole had materialized in front of me. There was nowhere I could run, no one to turn to.

“Daddy!” I sobbed as the earth gave way beneath me, and I fell. It was dark. So very dark, and I held my breath waiting for the end.

“Look for the light, Day,” I heard my dad whisper, but as the air rushed in around me I welcomed the darkness. The thought of light now, scared me. I didn’t want to see the end.

“Day. . .”

It was an echo this time. My name moved around me and through me, and I finally found the voice to scream.

 “Shit!” I cried out as I sat bolt upright in my bed, the room around me dark except for the single nightlight. I looked at it a moment desperately. I really needed to check its bulb. It had been awhile since I’d changed it, but Grumpy Bear looked as dourly bright as ever, and I gave him a weak thumbs-up sign as I placed my other hand over my chest. My breathing came fast.