Ember (12 page)

“Like you?”

Sebastian stepped out of the shadows again with his fingers curled up into tight balls by his side, one hand methodically tapping on his thigh. His face was a blank, expressionless mask, showing no trace of emotion. He crossed the room in a couple of long strides and plucked one of the pillows from the end of the bed, propping himself against the wall where he was sitting when Candra woke up. It reminded her that he hadn’t actually used the door to come in, since she had been lying against it when she woke.

By the way he crossed his long legs at his ankles and his arms across his chest, it appeared that the conversation she hadn’t wanted to start in the first place was now over.

“You’re not staying in here!” Candra informed him, shocked that it appeared to be his intention.

“Look what happened the last time I left you alone,” he said.

“Excuse me for going to a party and acting like a human being,” she huffed, fluffing pillows again needlessly.

“You’re not human, Candra. So until you start acting like you understand what that means, I’m staying here.”

It was the first time anyone had directly acknowledged what she knew already to be true: She wasn’t human—at least not entirely, because she was pretty sure her birth mother was. She wasn’t sure if Sebastian’s admission was intentional or not, but it was there.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver iPod, simultaneously searching the files and placing the small bud in his ears.

“You like music?” She didn’t know why it surprised her; every time he did anything the least bit human, it surprised her.

“I’m not a Neanderthal, Candra. I’m probably not at all what you think I am.” He didn’t look up to her, but she saw him wince at his own words before he closed his eyes and settled himself as if to sleep.

“So this is it, then? You’re going to be my own private creepy stalker from now on?”

“If that’s what it takes to keep you safe,” he answered without moving.

“Is this really about keeping me safe or about you not wanting to share your sandbox with the others?”

His eyes snapped open, blazing with anger, and his nostrils flared with each deep breath. Five—it took five long, deep breaths while she looked at him. Then he fluffed and plumped the pillow harshly behind his head a couple of times before returning to his previous position.

She didn’t deliberately aggravate him; she just hated how he referred to her as a little girl. Sure, he had been around forever, but she didn’t really believe that was why he wanted to keep her snugly in a box labeled “little girl.” Candra believed Sebastian was afraid that she was going to make decisions and that those decision would be wrong in his eyes. Seeing his more vulnerable side at the party and in her bedroom gave her a slight thrill. It reminded her that she actually wasn’t alone. In his own bizarre way, Sebastian might even be trying to reach out to her while at the same time keeping her from something. Inexplicably, Candra wanted to reach out to him too—and to do that she needed more answers.

She climbed into bed, thinking about where she could get those answers, and she determined to do just that.

Candra knew she was dreaming, but it didn’t make it any less disturbing. She was walking home from college and was alone. Although she was going the right way, it kept leading her to the wrong place. She couldn’t find her way to the townhouse, and the streets were completely deserted.

There were no people, no birds, not even a dog on the street. She twisted around and around, calling out for someone to answer her, but there was no one there. Her voice echoed off the tall buildings, sounding hollow. In the distance there was nothing but silence, and she called again, screaming “hello” at the top of her voice, feeling as if the buildings were spinning around her. The wind whipped up, swirling around her like a cyclone, and the ground began to shudder. She heard the sound of cracking glass and looked up in time to see the windows above her vibrate and begin to shake. A noise as loud as thunder exploded around her as she fell to the ground in a shower of shattering glass.

She woke with a start in the darkness of her room, breathless, curled in a ball and clinging onto her pillow. Once her breathing evened out, she rolled over with the pillow still in her arms like a security blanket, to see Sebastian sitting by the window with his ear phones in, wide awake and staring at the ceiling.

In the following weeks, every move Candra made was monitored, dissected and measured. Every morning Lofi waited for her at the end of the stairs in uniform, bouncing and full of energy, ready to escort Candra to school and stay with her while she went about her daily activities. Each afternoon Sebastian waited outside school to escort her home and hang around her like a useless appendage.

Candra had started to take long soaks in the bathtub each evening; the bathroom seemed to be the only place Sebastian was still reluctant to follow her. Even that was becoming an issue. After a while, he would tap on the door, indicating he was checking to make sure she hadn’t climbed out a window again. But Candra had begun to watch him almost as closely as he watched her.

He got twitchy whenever she strayed too far from him. It was almost as if he expected one of the eagle-like Watchers that seemed to shadow them everywhere to swoop down and pluck Candra from his side. Their numbers were growing; it appeared that every week there were more Watchers in the city. Candra had seen them in everyday life going about errands, walking down the street, or drinking coffee outside cafés. She recognized them now; once she knew what to look out for, it was easier: their extreme beauty and the way the gold flecks in their eyes glinted when they caught the light. Every now and again she would see one with their wings extended and noticed how humans moved around them as if held back by an invisible barrier.

At night, Sebastian slept by her bed like a loyal guard dog. There were things she noticed about him: music was the first thing. He needed music to sleep, even though when he did, it was never deeper than a light slumber. A few nights, when Candra’s mind wouldn’t rest and she curled up on her side trying to relate the semi-life she was leading to the precocious child she had been, she watched the slow steady rise and fall of his chest as someone might count sheep, until his quiet melancholy lulled her to unconsciousness.

Another night when she could hear Brie and Gabe raising their voices downstairs, Sebastian asked her to read to him. Candra was taken aback by his cutting tone until it struck her what he was doing. He was calculating and stoic in his insistence, at the same time sensitive enough to understand she needed a distraction. She was unenthusiastically grateful for his company.

It wasn’t all bad. Sebastian knew the name of every star constellation in the sky, and several times he followed Candra out onto the roof of the townhouse.

Every once in a while, a flash of light streaked across the sky from the meteor shower that had drawn her out onto the roof that night. This particular shower was an annual occurrence, and Candra always enjoyed viewing it, but this year the falling dots of light held a new connotation for her. It was weird for Candra, knowing the meteors causing the lightshow were hundreds of years old but still not nearly as old as Sebastian.

“That’s Taurus, the bull,” Sebastian informed her, pointing to the eastern sky.

She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders; it was a particularly clear night and so, was also particularly chilly. Star spotting wasn’t the reason she ever went up there in the past. She liked to look at the lights while listening to some music, alone. Although strangely, she was getting used to not being alone—that was something she never expected.

Sebastian didn’t have a blanket; he was wearing his faded leather jacket. Candra grudgingly had to admit to herself that he looked good in it because, just like all the Watchers, he was made beautiful. She casually gazed at him instead of upward as he closed one eye focusing on the sky and tracing the outline of the bull with his pointer finger.

“What?” he half-grunted. “You’re doing it again.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Candra mumbled and averted her eyes, blushing profusely.

“Sure,” he snorted.

Out of the corner of her eye, Candra could see him smirking and shaking his head. He was sitting on a blanket beside her with his long legs crossed at the ankle. She supposed he had to have guessed she was trying to figure him out. He wasn’t helping. He revealed nothing about himself voluntarily. Sure, he was beautiful, but there had to be more to him than the few things she knew. She needed to look deeper…if only she could look at him without blushing.

“Oh, shut up and keep educating me, since you insist on being here,” she bit back grumpily.

“It’s been a very long time since I was a teacher,” Sebastian said off-handedly, leaning back on his elbows.

The very idea of Sebastian teaching a class of high school girls made Candra laugh out loud. She could just imagine the swooning and eyelash fluttering that would have gone on.

“You find it funny that I was a teacher?” he asked curiously. He didn’t sound offended at all. “I’ll have you know my students paid rapt attention to every word I spoke.”

“I bet they did,” she mumbled, looking up. “I’ve seen how women are around you.”

“It was an all-boys school actually,” he corrected her, “and it was an extremely long time ago. Unfortunately, looking so young limits some professions for me these days. Who wants a kid teaching their kids?”

“So I guess that leaves out being a doctor too?” she asked.

“I’ve practiced medicine several times, but again, not for a long time.”

“I’ve wanted to be a doctor ever since my father died. Somehow I got it into my head that I could have helped him.” Candra sighed, quickly darting her eyes over her shoulder to him.

Sebastian’s head was tilted back to the sky, deep in thought, and his lips were pressed together firmly, making his jawline tight and sharp. His Adam’s apple bobbed stiffly when he swallowed.

“Candra, I’ve been thinking.”

“Really, how that’s going for you?” she teased. He was always thinking. Candra presumed it was one of the reasons why he was constantly frustrated: he seemed to think about things so much that he twisted himself in knots. She thought maybe if he talked to her instead of keeping everything to himself, it wouldn’t be so hard for him. The idea that maybe he didn’t trust her enough made her sad for some reason.

“Maybe I could try sleeping on the couch,” he suggested, but sounded slightly hesitant at his own suggestion.

Candra was instantly hit by strange conflicting desires. She wanted him gone from her room; the guy was like a limpet constantly hanging around. But there was another part of her that protested. She had to admit she didn’t understand her situation completely, and so it had begun to make her feel safer having him around. She wasn’t sure if she really was safer or if it was just his distrust of everything rubbing off on her. Added to that, he distracted her from what was going on—he shouldn’t because he was a major part of it, but his company was a distraction nonetheless. Lastly, how would she ever figure him out if it wasn’t for the constant banter between them? Sleeping on the couch would put a dent in their late night conversations. So, Candra found herself, or at least a very small part of herself, wanting to continue just as they were. She turned to see he was leaning on one arm and rubbing his other hand roughly over his face.

“Maybe just another few days,” he finally said and rolled back onto his two arms again.