Fae (12 page)

I silently vowed I'd buy the CD that night from iTunes. I changed my mind immediately when I heard the screaming cacophony that spewed out of his speakers. I honestly don't even think that what I was hearing was a known language. He tapped his hand on the steering wheel to the appalling beat. I couldn't seem to help myself.

“What is this?” I asked him in complete horror.

He looked over at me in surprise then turned down the volume.

“You don't like it?”

Not liking it was the understatement of the year.

“It's…different,” I said diplomatically.

Devilyn smiled sheepishly as he turned the volume down. “I guess it's an acquired taste. They're a small band I saw back in Australia a few summers back.”

He looked over at me and must have seen the look on my face because he continued on with a simple explanation, “The lyrics are pure poetry.”

I had no idea what poetry he was referring to, but the fact that this perfect man had just made such a profound statement made my heart beat even faster. He was romantic. Another fabulous attribute to add to the never-ending list.

He turned up the volume and then skipped over the last song.

“This is the acoustic version, Caroline. And this one was in a different language, old Celtic. This is in English. Just listen to the lyrics.”

“How could you even hear the lyrics through that God awful guitar?” I couldn't seem to help myself.

“His voice is great,” he said almost gently.

“He isn't singing, he's screaming!” I said back to him, trying my hardest not to crack a smile.

And that was the moment.

He threw his head back and started to laugh. Really, honest to goodness,
laugh
. He was even more gorgeous when he didn't have that stern look on his face. He made me want to reach out and take his hand. Or kiss him.

Whichever came first.

Get a hold of yourself, Caroline!
He only kisses cheerleaders—and probably models.

Devilyn pulled into the parking lot of the Elizabethan Gardens and stopped the car. He turned to look at me straight on. I tried to focus on what he was saying rather than the perfect formation of his mouth and teeth.

“I'm not letting you out of this car until you really listen to what Toby is saying.”

“Toby?” I asked.

In that case I'm never listening
, I thought. I willed myself to concentrate. I couldn't come off as a total idiot.

“The lead singer is my friend. His band is London Cries.”

Of course.

I was about to retort, but he put his finger up to his mouth and said, “Shhhh. Just listen. Close your eyes. You'll feel it if you close your eyes.”

“I don't know…” I was unsure.

“Trust me.”

I stared at him for a second, and I knew that I did. Trust him. Completely. I closed my eyes and suddenly I could feel it.

I felt like I was floating slowly away as I started to really listen to the lyrics.

And they moved me.

The song was about love. Not fleeting love, but true, perfect love. The kind that makes your stomach churn, your whole body flush with an inner peace knowing that you've found your one true soul mate. The kind of love that's worth dying for. Or living for. If you are lucky enough to find it.

I opened my eyes and met Devilyn's penetrating gaze. He was watching me. His eyes smoldered with something that I did not recognize.

“What did you think?” he asked as he cleared his throat.

“I understand.”

“You do?”

“I understand what you're talking about. It's pretty powerful stuff.” I couldn't tell if his heart was beating louder or mine.

“It is.”

“Can I find this on iTunes? What's the song called?” I asked him.

He laughed softly. “No, you can't. It's called Candle.” I didn't understand what was so funny. “I'll just burn you a copy and give it to you tomorrow.”

“That sounds great.”

He looked out on the Gardens and sighed. “Shall we?”

I nodded and jumped out of the car. Devilyn carried everything. I hugged my jacket closer around my body and wished I had worn something thicker.

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“A little,” I admitted shyly. “But I'll be fine once we're inside.”

“Wait here.” He rushed back to the car and grabbed his jacket out of the back seat. He came back quickly and put it over my shoulders. I was immediately enveloped in the smell of his cologne. I thought I might faint.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

We hurried over to the entrance. Devilyn opened the door for me, and I stepped inside, immediately welcoming the warmth. I knew the manager of the Gardens because I frequented them often. Her name was Violet, and according to everyone in town, she had been around forever.

She greeted me with a hug. “How are you, my dear?” She asked as I hugged her in return. “I haven't seen you here for a while.”

“I've been busy with school,” I turned to Devilyn and smiled. “This is, um, this is my friend, Devilyn Reilly.” I hesitated, not knowing if he really was my friend.

“Nice to meet you Devilyn; my name is Violet.” Devilyn nodded curtly. He seemed stone cold, and I couldn't understand why. Violet was one of the nicest ladies in town.

Perhaps he didn't like being referred to as my friend. I should have said that we were working on a project together.

“Nice to meet you too.”

Devilyn and Violet stared each other down for a moment, then Violet turned a smile on me.

“I see you brought food with you. Why don't you two go out to the indoor veranda? You won't be bothered there. And please, feel free to walk the gardens. If this is Devilyn's first time here, I'm sure he'd love to see how beautiful they are.”

“Thanks, Violet. You're the best.” She stepped away as we walked toward the veranda. Devilyn followed quietly.

“How long has Violet worked here?”

“It seems like forever. Honestly, as long as I can remember,” I explained to him. “She's really wonderful and so accommodating to me. She always lets me stay past hours and have free run over the entire grounds.”

“You come here often?” He seemed surprised by this.

“I love it here. If I could come here every day, I would.” We moved into the indoor veranda that overlooked the beautiful gardens. We sat down at a table closest to the window. “There's something about this place that just draws me in. I don't know how to explain it.”

He watched me curiously, probably thinking I was some type of freak. Immediately my face flushed with embarrassment.

“I must sound ridiculous to you.”

“Not at all.” He urged, “Go on.”

I shrugged my shoulders and stared outside. Though it was dark out, the garden seemed to be illuminated with something special. Something mystical.

“I feel like there's something out there that speaks to me, you know?” I realized I must sound like a complete idiot to him, so I tried to create a distraction by opening the pizza box and pulling out a slice. I then removed the salad container from the brown paper bag, along with our drinks and the utensils. I continued fiddling with the utensils and handed him a Coke and a plate. I couldn't even look at him. “I know that sounds strange.” I hesitated.

Way to go, he's going to think you're a complete loser now, Caroline.

“I think I understand what you mean,” he said after a while. I looked up, expecting to find him mocking me. But there was no humor in his voice or in his eyes. However strange, it seemed that Devilyn actually got it.

“It seems like a special place, ” he admitted.

I took a small bite of pizza.

“Do you know the story of the Lost Colony?” I asked him.

“Yes.”

“It's sad, isn't it? What happened to those people.”

“It is.”

“Eleanor Dare's story is the one that strikes a chord in me. Her story is so tragic.” I took a sip of my Coke and watched as he flicked his eyes over me and nodded.

“Very tragic.”

“You know, they say she was pregnant when she came here.”

He nodded again. I knew he probably didn't care about the story of the Lost Colony or what happened to Eleanor Dare. He didn't seem the least bit interested in it. So I stopped talking.

“Since you seem to like the history of Roanoke so much, is colonial history a particular passion of yours?” He asked after a minute, grabbing another slice of pizza.

I laughed. “I'm not really interested in colonial history at all. Just the story of The Lost Colony. I think it's fascinating. But other than that, no. Like this assignment we have has me spinning.”

I couldn't believe I just said that out loud to him. In fact, I seemed to suddenly feel way too comfortable with this guy. I couldn't understand why. He was the most unattainable crush I'd ever had in my life, and here I was practically telling him my life story. In another five minutes he'd know everything.

“Why are you spinning?”

“I—” I looked away from him, out on the view, then back. ”Because I really don't know much about my family. Or at least my ancestors. And that's weird, you know? And it doesn't help that I'm an only child. So it's just up to me to carry on their legacy and to make sure that everything that means something to them lives on in some way. And I just want to make sure that I honor their name, their heritage, and I do them justice, even if I didn't know them.”

“Well, if it's any consolation some people have a legacy that they'd prefer to forget.”

His voice was so cold and detached that I was taken by surprise. I looked at him and watched the shadows in his eyes. He was complicated. It wouldn't take a genius to figure that out. But I could see it. There were layers to him that were not normal. The boys in our class were easy to figure out. Every emotion was written on their faces.

But not him.

There was a wall there, and I had a feeling that even if you were lucky enough to climb that wall and get to the other side, you'd find another one waiting for you. For a guy who was only seventeen, it was hard to imagine. From the outside, his life seemed so charmed.

“I don't believe that,” I said softly.

“Then you're naïve.” He pushed the pizza box away and leaned back in his chair. “There are some skeletons better left in the closet. Have you ever thought about that?”

“No. I still want to know everything there is to know. The good, bad, and ugly,” I said almost half-joking. “I'm kind of tenacious when I want something. I just have to find a way to get it.”

He looked at me intently.

“I'm sure you are.”

We stared at each other for a moment longer before he diverted his gaze.

“Shall we get to work?”

“Sure.” I was almost sad to have to start on the assignment. But I guessed that was his way of saying,
Shall we get this over with so I don't have to endure any more of your company than is necessary?

“You first,” I said as I pulled out a pen and notebook from my bag.

“Ladies—” he began.

“Please. I just told you that I barely know anything about anyone. Don't make me go first.”

He nodded. I was happy to know that we finally agreed on something.

“You have a sister,” I stated the obvious.

“Yes.”

“Today was her first day?” I asked.

“Yes. She was away visiting a sick aunt in Europe and she's been feeling under the weather since she's been back. I think she left early today.” Devilyn explained.

“Are you guys close?” I asked.

Devilyn smiled.

“Sometimes. Depends on her mood.”

I laughed. “You're still lucky to have a sibling. All I have is my dog, Famous.”

“Famous?” he asked crinkling his nose. “You named your dog Famous?”

“I found him on the side of the street. That was the name someone gave him, and I didn't want to change it.”

“I would have,” Devilyn said looking disgusted. “Especially if he's a male. It's undignified having a name like that.”

“Yes, he is a male dog.” I laughed. “I love it. I love him. He's very special to me.”

I know
.

I did know how special Famous was to her, and I understood it in a way that she never could. She didn't know Famous's past, and she didn't know her own. Master and dog were in the same boat in that respect.

“Tell me about your sister. What's her name?” she asked softly.

“Tatiana.”

“That's a beautiful name,” she said as she wrote it down. “I bet she's really pretty.”

“She is,” I responded.
But she has the heart of a viper. Doesn't give a damn about anyone and revels in breaking men's hearts.
But instead I said, “She's a wonderful girl.”

“And your parents?” she asked. I knew the aloof look came over my face again because she backed away from me. I was acutely aware of how she reacted to all of my moods and tones. She seemed in tune with them in a way I had never known.

“They died in a plane crash,” I told her.

“I'm so sorry.” And I knew she was. I could feel the empathy she had for me. In her mind she was no doubt playing out my lonely childhood. Losing both parents, being forced to move in with my grandfather. If she had any idea just what kind of monster my real father was, she'd be running back home.

I would never forget the day Odin told me who my real father was. Odin had taken me to a beautiful seaside in the Indian Ocean. We sat on the white sand beach before the crystal blue water and ate a spread of the finest foods. I was seven years old.

“I'm going to show you a movie, Devilyn,” he told me as the water rose before us like a smooth, clear wall.

Odin loved the water and the way the waves could be brought together to create the most beautiful painting. Suddenly there were pictures playing within its depths, and I was entranced. I saw a woman. Her face was haunted but beautiful. She had deep green eyes and dark black hair, like mine.