The Vaga (3 page)

He frowns, folding the paper into a neat rectangle. ‘Is there something wrong with her?’

‘No. Not that I know of. Maybe she just needs some space that’s all.’ I look towards the brush. ‘You can’t blame her for that,’ I mumble, thinking that I’m twenty years old, in college, and still living with my uncle. Sometimes I wish I could just take off and have time to myself too.

My thoughts must be blatantly obvious, because Uncle Jo stares at me for a moment before looking at his watch and standing up. ‘Well, I better get back to it. See you ladies in a bit.’ He begins to walk off and then turns back briefly. ‘Oh, and that situation we were talking about earlier is something I want to come back to.’

I throw him a curt nod and my shoulders slump as I watch him walk off. I shouldn’t have made my desire for more space so obvious.

Phoebe winces. ‘Ouch! I think you hurt his feelings, E.’

I put my hands over my eyes and groan. ‘I know. It’s just…’

She takes another sip of her drink before asking, ‘What is it?’

Just tell her and get it over with
.

‘I saw Julian today,’ I blurt out.

She spits the Diet Coke all over the table. ‘What?! Where? Are you sure it was him?’ she all but yells.

I look around, making sure that no one is watching us too closely. ‘Phoebs, calm down.’

‘Calm down!? Do you remember what he did to me? What he tried to do to you?’ She automatically reaches up to her face and traces her finger down the spot on her cheek where the scar has disappeared, but where the memory of that night remains.

Of course I remember what he did. I will never be able to forget. Julian is the man who was sent to kill me four years ago, and he is the reason Phoebe still bears the emotional scar. In an attempt to lure me out into the open he kidnapped Phoebe, injuring her in the process. It’s my fault that she was hurt that day, and I carry the burden of it like a blemish on my soul.

‘I know, okay. I know what he did, or what he tried to do, I
know
!’ I say, frustration fueling my emotions.

She balks at my words. ‘Then why are you angry at me and not him?’

Crossing my arms defensively I shake my head. ‘I’m not angry at you, I just…’

‘What?’ she pushes.

‘I’m just sick of everyone telling me what to do, or what I should or shouldn’t feel, alright. I’m tired of it.’ I look towards the distant woodland, feeling a sudden urge to get up and run.

We are silent for a moment. I can’t blame Phoebe for feeling those emotions. She doesn’t know about my dreams, or how the last few years have affected me in more ways than one. I’m not sure she would understand my feelings towards Julian. I’m not sure I’m ready to reveal those secrets just yet.

‘I’m sorry, Phoebs. Seeing him just sort of shocked me, that’s all.’

She turns towards me quickly, ignoring my apology, lost in her own thoughts. ‘What does him being here mean? Are you in danger again? Is he going to try and hurt you?’ The colours of her aura surge with concern, anger, and fear all thrown into one.

Shaking my head I say, ‘I don’t know. You’ve seen the letter, Phoebs. It doesn’t seem like he would be here if he wasn’t at least trying to warn me. I suppose we’ll have to wait and find out.’

The bell tower strikes one o’clock, sounding out its vibrant call across the campus. Phoebe jumps at the sound. ‘Holy crap! Damn that stupid clock tower!’

I reach over to grab her hand that is searing its way into the table top. ‘It’s going to be okay.’

Her lip trembles as she squeezes my hand. ‘We need to be ready.’

‘We?’ I ask curiously.

She looks me squarely in the eye, hardening her jaw. ‘You need to train me.’ She pulls her hand back and crosses her arms, her face deadpan serious.

A short, sharp laugh escapes my lips. ‘What?’

‘You heard me. You need to train me.’

‘You know I can’t teach you magic, Phoebs.’

‘I know that numb nuts. I want you to train me physically. I want to do what you do.’

I shake my head. ‘I’ve been training for years. I can’t teach you everything in such a short time. That would be impossible.’

She grits her teeth in frustration. ‘I’m not saying I am going to be this…warrior, okay. I just need to know how to defend myself.’

‘Phoebs, this isn’t a game. You could get hurt and…I couldn’t deal with that. I’m sorry.’ I cast my eyes downwards, knowing my words will hurt her.

A few seconds pass with neither one of us moving before she says, ‘Bullcrap.’

My head whips up in surprise. The luminescent brown of her irises are shining brightly, clear and focused in their meaning. She leans forward, never wavering in her gaze. ‘You
will
train me, Cole, or else I will go straight to your uncle, or Ama, or whoever else will listen and make them
force
you to train me.’

My eyes widen. She is dead serious about this. Phoebe’s not usually serious about much, especially when it comes to exercise or any type of movement that involves her body performing unnatural twists and turns. The threatening look on her face causes me to force back a smile.

I cross my arms ever so slowly. ‘Fine. But if we train then I don’t want to hear any whining or tantrums or anything else that will make me want to punch you. Deal?’

She flashes me a smug look. ‘Deal.’ She holds out her hand and I grab it firmly.

This is going to be fun.

‘Argh, dammit! That flippin hurt!’ Phoebe yells,
rubbing her butt.

I take a few steps back. ‘I told you to keep your guard up.’

‘
I told you to keep your guard up
,’ she mimics me childishly from the mat.

Laughing, I hold out my hand. She flashes me a scowl before taking it and I help lift her to her feet.

‘Okay, let’s try again. Remember, plant your feet firmly, keep your eyes focused on your opponent, and make sure your body is flexible but firm.’ I move my body into fighting position.

Uncle Jo has trained me over the last few years to be a pretty good fighter. I’ve learnt the art of boxing, mixed martial arts, and Russian Systema. I’m not exactly Bruce Lee, but I can hold my own.

Phoebe positions her feet and I see her muscles contract, hardening her curvy frame.

‘Good. Now remember to breathe, focus on my body and counter attack my moves.’

I strike out with my left arm and she blocks it with her right. I then kick out with my right leg and she blocks that too.

‘Good. Okay, let’s pick up the pace a bit.’

‘Bring it on, Cole,’ she quips.

I position myself again.

For the next two hours we practise. Phoebe is quick to pick up the defensive strategies I’ve taught her, but her movements are still a bit slow and awkward.

Sweat trickles down her face as she holds up her gloved fist. ‘Okay, I think I’m done,’ she pants heavily.

I move to unstrap her gloves. ‘I’m impressed, Phoebs, really. You put in a great effort today.’

‘I know,’ she says wincing, dramatically displaying her discomfort at actually having to exercise.

‘No wonder you’re a drama major.’

She flashes me a sassy look. ‘You sound jealous, E. I hope my moves today didn’t intimidate you at all?’ I smile as I pull her glove off. ‘Anyway, with some more training I think I’ll be ready for a real fight.’

I flash her a stern look. ‘Um, no you won’t.’

‘What do you mean, I won’t?’

I yank the last glove off roughly. ‘This isn’t a game, Phoebs.’

‘I know that, but the last week of training has made me feel…powerful,’ she says, rubbing her sweaty hands together.

‘That’s the adrenaline. We all feel that, but that doesn’t mean you go out looking for a fight.’ I wrap the black gloves together tightly and drop them onto my bag.

She rolls her eyes. ‘Fine. But if anyone comes looking for me, I’m going to at least attempt to put them on their ass.’

She launches her fist at my face and I catch it with my hand easily. She pouts her lips at the failed attempt.

‘Nice try. And as much fun as it would be to see you attempt to kick someone’s ass, I would rather you didn’t.’

A knock sounds out from the gym door and Sam peeks his head through. ‘Have you guys finished with your exercise session?’

Phoebe’s cherubic face lights up at the sight of him. ‘Yep, and I nearly flattened Ellie a few times too.’ She winks.

Sam looks at me and smiles knowingly. I roll my eyes for effect.

He casually walks towards us, his long legs almost skating on the air around him. How does he manage to do that?

‘Geez, you’re sweating like a pig,’ he says, trailing one finger down Phoebe’s neck. ‘Are you sure this is just exercise? Looks like you ladies have been throwing it down.’ He cocks his head.

I ignore his look and pack away our gear.

‘No, we’re just exercising. Ellie convinced me that I needed to start working out. Apparently I’ve got to remain luscious, or so she says.’ She winks at him before picking up her towel and wiping down her arms.

‘You’d be luscious no matter what,’ he says grabbing her around the waist and kissing her on her forehead.

‘Ew, okay that’s my cue to leave.’ I pick up my bag and toss it over my shoulder. ‘Am I seeing you guys later?’

I wait for them to stop staring into each other’s eyes. That jealously thing in the pit of my stomach is rearing its ugly head again.

‘Yep. We’ll pick you up at six. And make sure you bring your jacket, it’s going to be cool at football tonight,’ Phoebe says.

I nod and wave them off. Ugh…football. I can’t believe I let Phoebe sucker me into going to the game tonight. Between her harassing me and Blake passing me hopeful looks the last few days, I didn’t really stand a chance.

The thought of going to the game tonight makes me feel slightly vulnerable. I remember Julian’s warning—
we are not the only organisation in the world threatened by power such as yours.

Could it be happening? Could there really be another group of psychos after me? Or is it that the Puritans have found out Julian was lying when he said I was dead. If that’s the case, then he is in as much danger as I am. A sudden rush of heat courses through me—a fiery electrical current working its way into my inner fibres.

Why am I feeling protective of him? What do I care what happens to him when he tried to kill me for goodness sake. I shut my eyes tightly against the pounding in my head. This is so ridiculous! I catch a brief glimpse of him in the grandstand and all of a sudden I feel some sort of ownership over his wellbeing? Not to mention the fact that I haven’t even seen any sign of him the last few days, and it’s not for lack of trying. I keep looking over my shoulder, checking the faces of the students around me, thinking that he is hiding amongst them, keeping a watchful, protective eye on me.

I shake my head. It’s so stupidly romantic. As if he would be here just for me. Besides, I have Uncle Jo and Magi watching me closely enough.

Even though I know how ridiculous it all is, I still can’t help but wonder if he’ll be at the game tonight. A part of me hopes he will, but then another part of me battles against the guilt I feel for even thinking that. Why does it have to be this complicated? Why can’t I just be like everyone else?

I shrug the bag more firmly onto my back and grip the straps tighter, making my way across the quad—the outdoor living area of George Brown College. It’s a modern blend of medieval and Gothic courtyard design, with pathways and patterns within the turf evoking a calming influence on the gorgeous old Jacobethan buildings surrounding it. These historically inspired buildings were the main reason why I chose a major in architectural studies at George Brown over all the others. I love the stories and history held within their walls.

My eyes close for a moment as I pass beneath the silver maples that line the walkway and I inhale deeply, breathing in their evergreen scent. Reaching out, I lightly graze the trunk with my fingertips, letting the woody texture travel through me. It makes me miss Old Olsen—the magical tree back at the farm. I’d give anything to wrap my arms around his massive trunk right now.

Passing the old brick dorms where Phoebe and Sam live, thankfully co-ed or else they’d probably be shacked up playing happy families already, I spot Rhianna and Jessica going to class. I keep my head down and try not to let them see me.

‘Hey, Ellie,’ Rhianna yells out, waving at me.

Crap
!
Why did you have to touch that bloody tree
? I silently berate myself, wishing I could teleport out of here. I haven’t seen Jessica around after our incident the other day and was hoping to keep it that way.

‘Hey. How’s things?’ Rhianna asks almost falling into me. Jessica stays back, pretending to have her attention on a nearby group of artists painting in the south-east corner of the quad.

‘I’m good. You?’ I ask, my eyes falling to her cousin.

Rhianna follows my gaze and gives me a soft smile. ‘You know, she said she was sorry about the other day. She was just feeling frustrated you know?’

I raise my eyebrows. ‘Really? Well she might want to keep that temper under control.’

Rhianna lowers her speckled, sun-kissed face to the grass. ‘I know.’

Taking in her response, I sigh inwardly. It’s not her fault her cousin is a sore loser.

‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I know this isn’t your fault. She just rubbed me the wrong way is all.’ I nudge her arm. ‘We’re okay, alright. I’ll get over it, I promise.’

She nods before flashing me a dimpled grin. ‘I also heard on the grapevine that you’re going to the game tonight.’ She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

‘How did you find out I was going?’ I blush.

She shrugs. ‘A little birdy may have texted me.’

Phoebe.

‘But don’t worry, she thought you may need a back-up plan should anything go pear-shaped.’

‘Pear-shaped? What does she think is going to happen?’ I cross my arms defensively, thinking that this is sounding more like a blind date than just an innocent game of football.

She giggles. ‘Not sure, but she obviously thought you could use a posse.’

Bloody Phoebe
. ‘Ugh. This is just getting better and better.’ Magi suddenly bombards me with an image of Aunt Lily. ‘Hey, I’m really sorry, Rhianna, but I’ve got to run.’