Unfaithful (43 page)

My bedroom ceiling looked so unfamiliar, a million miles away from what in a few months had become my new world. Evan’s house had become a hideaway even more comforting than my own home. Or maybe it was his absence that made my room seem so cold and empty.

Gripped with anxiety, I tossed and turned under the covers, unable to fall asleep. I recalled Drake’s face so close to mine, how ardently he’d pulled me against him, like I belonged to him. During that brief moment, I’d gotten the impression I’d never known him, that I didn’t even know who he was. And yet he was still Drake, Evan’s fun-loving brother, the only one who never worried about anything. How on earth had it even occurred to him? Why had he kissed me? Maybe what made me angriest was that tonight all I should have been thinking about was the incredible afternoon I’d spent with Evan. I should have been losing myself in the memory of the two of us locked in an embrace amid a thousand fireflies of light, making love as if we were in a dream. Instead, all I could think of was Drake and the fierce look on his face when he pressed his lips against mine. For a moment I was relieved Ginevra wasn’t there listening to my thoughts.

I couldn’t believe Drake had kissed me. As if that wasn’t enough, I couldn’t think of a good way to break it to Evan—because there
was
no good way. Still, I had no choice. I knew I wasn’t to blame for what had happened, so why did I feel so responsible about their relationship possibly being ruined forever?

Where would I find the courage to tell Evan his best friend had betrayed him? How could I avoid the irreparable damage? It takes two to tango—I was aware of that—but inside me I didn’t feel at all complicit in what Drake had done. From that perspective I hadn’t betrayed Evan. When you truly love someone you can’t imagine desiring anyone except that person.

My eyelids grew heavy and relief washed over me. Falling asleep would finally hush the deafening echo of those exhausting thoughts.

Another blink of my eyelashes, this one softer and slower. I couldn’t see Simon but I knew he was there and his presence made me feel safe. The light from my bedside lamp dimmed and went out and the darkness swallowed up my thoughts. “Good night, Simon,” I murmured, my lips barely moving.

“Good night.” The whisper floated through the dark room, but I was already asleep.

The ice-cold air slashed my skin like a blade. I felt it on my cheeks while my hot breath hid my mouth in puffs of white vapor. I didn’t know what I was running from or where I was headed, but I ran and ran, dodging the trees. I was tired, my body was about to give up, and yet a little voice in my head kept me from stopping. I knew if I did it would be the end of me. Someone was chasing me—I sensed their presence, heard their breathing among the trees.

Without slowing my pace, I looked over my shoulder. No one was there, but I
knew
he had come to kill me. When I looked forward again the sky had grown brighter. A moment later I noticed that the thick treetops were no longer blocking it. I’d left the forest behind.

I slowed down, realizing I’d been in this place before. I frowned at the sight of Evan’s car on the side of the road. Filled with the sensation that something wasn’t right, I continued to run toward it. When I was quite near, my heart turned over; the front end of the car was crumpled around the broken guardrail. I put my hands to my mouth. The Ferrari was totaled.

Desperate, I ran up to it, a burning ache in my chest. My heart beat fast, outstripping the tempo of my footsteps on the asphalt. The closer I got, the more tightly terror clenched my stomach.

I stopped and walked toward the driver’s window. Shards of glass were everywhere. They crunched beneath my feet. Someone was in the car. I drew closer, stunned, and my heart throbbed in my temples with a wild, unsteady beat. When I recognized the head that lay motionless on the steering wheel, all the blood drained from my face.

It was Evan.

Unable to breathe, I tried to keep myself from fainting as I saw the streaks of blood on Evan’s face dripping onto the road in a scarlet puddle. I felt all my muscles trembling—small, uncontrollable spasms that turned my blood to ice. It couldn’t be true. I was horrified by the pain—so devastated, so drained that not even my tears could find their way out, lost in my endless torment.

I reached out a trembling hand and gently pushed him back into the driver’s seat. His head fell back, revealing his face, and an onslaught of emotions shot through me. But when I took a closer look at the bloodstained face, the most powerful emotion I felt was relief.

It wasn’t Evan—it was Drake.

The pain vanished as quickly as it had come, replaced by confusion. A whisper drifted through the air and brushed my ear—a sweet sound, like a deep sigh. I let myself be distracted, distanced from everything else. It filled me. I felt as if it could carry me away from there.

Then I remembered Drake and shook my head, but something strange bothered me when I turned around to look at him again. I took a step back, confused by the old, dark-gray conveyance that had taken the place of the Ferrari.

His burned and blackened body was in his warplane. Blood covered his face and what was left of the shattered windshield. Gripped in his hand were the two dog tags he wore around his neck.

No. He wasn’t dead. His body was still quivering, his lips barely moving.

“Ste—Stella,” he gasped. My heart went ice cold. His body slumped over the controls, lifeless. The entire side of the plane was riddled with bullet holes, more than I’d seen before.

A pungent, metallic smell filled my nostrils. I looked around, disoriented, and heard the sigh once again. It felt like it was inside me; I sensed it in every fiber of my being, like it belonged to me. Some part of me recognized it. I could feel the breath on me almost tangibly. It was so intense I turned my head to follow it.

My eyes met the gaze of a woman who stood there perfectly still, staring at me.

I heard the sound again and flinched: it was my name, shrouded in a soothing murmur. It was coming from inside me, in my head, my thoughts, my gut. The sound was everywhere.

For a moment I looked into the woman’s electric-blue eyes as the wind made her long hair billow behind her. It was black, with white tips. The energy she emanated was so intense and hypnotic that it took me a moment to notice the hundreds of dead bodies piled one atop the other on the dry earth beneath our feet. Everywhere I looked were lifeless bodies.

“Naiad . . .”
My name echoed through my thoughts again like a melody wafted on the wind. The woman stood there, her eyes fixed on me. Her eyes were ice, yet so comforting at the same time.

A moan caught my attention. My thoughts flew to Drake and I instinctively turned to look for him, but immediately felt as if someone had stabbed me in the heart. The plane had disappeared, as had Drake. In their place once again was the twisted wreckage of Evan’s car, but this time it was me behind the wheel, lying in a pool of blood.

I tried to breathe but the air was trapped in my throat. I began to sob. Trembling like a leaf, I moved closer to see if maybe it wasn’t true, it wasn’t really me. As I looked at the body, spasms of terror gripped me and the voice whispered my name again. Horrified, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the face in front of me: my own, splattered with blood.

Suddenly its eyes opened wide, making me jump.

I tried to scream, but suddenly found myself in my bedroom, gasping for air. Remembering all the blood, I touched my forehead. It was wet. I checked my fingers that trembled before my terrified eyes, afraid I would find them tinged with scarlet, but my fingertips were only beaded with sweat. Then why was my heart still pounding? Why had I had to dream  not only of my own death but the deaths of the others as well?

I took a deep breath and told myself it had just been another nightmare. I always had them when Evan left me on my own.

It was dark outside the window. I nervously checked my alarm clock and saw it was only four in the morning. Under other circumstances that would have been a relief because it meant I had more time to sleep. That night, however, the thought of closing my eyes again terrified me; another nightmare awaited me, I was sure of it. But still, I was so tired.

I tossed and turned under the covers but couldn’t fall asleep. I noticed a faint light just above my bedside table and remembered Simon must be somewhere in the room, watching over me. The thought calmed me a little.

His voice echoed from the ceiling as if he’d heard me. “Everything okay?”

“I’ve had better nights.” I heard him chuckle in the darkness.

“I’m sorry Evan isn’t here in my place,” he admitted, sounding sincerely regretful.

“No, it’s all right,” I was quick to reply. “It’s not your fault he’s not here.”

No matter how much I missed Evan, I was happy his family was so protective of me. From the bottom of my heart I appreciated that Simon was here, willing to confront my enemy in order to protect me.

“You were tossing and turning the whole night.” Simon fell silent for a long moment, making me think he’d finished speaking, but then he continued. “I can protect you, but there’s nothing I can do about your nightmares. I can’t help you with those.”

Judging from his rueful tone, I must have been seriously restless.

“Those aren’t your fault either. Don’t worry about it,” I said, not wanting him to feel bad.

His reply took me by surprise. “He would rather be here instead of me too, and it’s not his fault that he isn’t.”

“I know.”

“No, maybe you don’t, actually. I know Evan really well. I was there when we found him and we’ve been together ever since.” He paused for a few seconds. “What we do—” He hesitated again. A movement in the half-light caught my attention and my eyes darted to the window. Simon was standing there, staring outside. He seemed to be searching for words as I watched his silhouette shrouded in darkness. “I understand it might seem frightening, but if you look at it from the right perspective it actually isn’t so terrible.” He turned toward me. “Our task is to free the spirit from the body in which it’s trapped so it can return to where it belongs. Humans see death as the end of everything—I was human once and well remember the feeling—but it’s not. Not for you. For you mortals, it’s only the beginning.”

He stared out the window again as I listened in silence. I’d never thought about the fact that Evan’s brothers were going through the same kind of suffering he was. They had been condemned to the same fate, but neither Evan nor even Simon had reason to complain. At least not as much as their brother. Drake was alone, condemned to Earth forever, forced to give up Stella, the woman he loved. It must be terrible for him.

The thought made me remember the night before and a shiver ran down my spine. How could I take away the only thing he had left—his family’s love? I shook my head to banish the thought. I was about to pick up our conversation where we’d left off, but Simon spoke first. “In any case, it’s not up to us. We must act against our will. We’re not the ones who decide.”

“Who does, then?” I asked uneasily.

“Orders are imposed on us.” His tone was hard, as if intentionally avoiding an unspeakable secret.

“By
whom?
” I insisted firmly. I’d never broached the subject with Evan, having always had the impression it was something better left unsaid. Or maybe I simply hadn’t been brave enough. With Simon, on the other hand, it all seemed much simpler.

“By the Elders,” he replied, looking me in the eye.

“You guys always seem afraid to talk about them, but who are the Elders, anyway? What do they have to do with all this? And above all, how do you know what they want you to do?” The intimacy created by the dim light made me brave and I finally gave my curiosity free rein.

“We just know, that’s all. We feel it inside, like intrinsic knowledge, a thought coming from our own minds. They communicate with us even if we can’t hear them. It’s as though they insert the information directly into our heads.”