Intuition: The Premonition Series (10 page)

“I’ve already slept, but you’ve only been sleeping for four hours and twenty-seven minutes so that means you need to go back to bed,” he says as he sets the glass on the counter.

“How long did you sleep?” I ask, smiling at the accuracy of my precisely estimated sleep time.

“Two hours and thirteen minutes. I slept in because I was really tired,” he says seriously, which makes my smile deepen as I shake my head at him. How nice it would be to be able to consider a two-hour nap “sleeping in.”

“Are Buns and Zephyr sleeping?” I ask, because it’s suspiciously quiet in the cottage with no noises coming from the back bedroom.

“No, they went out for another session when they got up,” he replies.

“Oh, you should’ve gone with them, instead of sitting around waiting for me to get up,” I say, walking over to the couch and sitting down facing the fire. I pull one of the throw pillows into my arms, hugging it for comfort while I stare at the fire crackling in the grate. Reed sits down next to me on the couch with his body angled toward me.

“Why would I do that when you’re here?” he asks, sounding serious. “So, are you going to tell me about it, or do I have to drag it out of you?”

“New one tonight—not the same one I’ve been having,” I reply.

“Who are the players?” Reed asks, leaning forward with an intense expression.

“I’m not sure. No one I recognized—just me and a score or more of…” I trail off because I don’t want to tell him.

“Of what?” he asks succinctly.

“Powers,” I say with reluctance.

“Fallen?” he asks the moment I answer him.

“Maybe, I’m not sure, but…there was no gross smell, you know, like before when I dreamt of them. No, this was different,” I say, thinking of how to describe it to him. “It was like being a bee flying into a wasp’s nest. You pretty much know you’re dead; you’re just not sure when or from what angle the sting is going to come.”

He recoils a little when I say this. “Am I there?” he asks, sounding tense. I shake my head no and watch his frown deepen into a scowl as his jaw tenses. “Describe the surroundings for me. What is the terrain like? Do you have access to any weapons? Are you restrained in any way?” he asks in rapid-fire succession.

“Renaissance-style reception area with what I imagine are crystal chandeliers and gilded everything. There were exquisite rugs on gleaming marble floors and heavy brocaded curtains. Ceilings that would make the Sistine Chapel look like finger painting. No weapons that I can recall. I’m not restrained,” I say, trying really hard to think. “And…”

“And?” he asks in a harsh tone.

“And I’m afraid, of course, and filled with dread, but even more than that, I’m just extremely pissed off,” I reply, and anger is in my voice as I feel the residual rage from the dream.

“Pissed off?” he asks as if he doesn’t know what the words means.

“Yeah, like ‘avenging angel’ pissed,” I say, staring at him. “Like I might just see how many I can take with me on the way out.” I say, feeling again the echoing anger.

“Yes. I know the kind of pissed off you are talking about,” he says thoughtfully. The way that he said it, with such earnestness, makes me smile again despite the grimness of the topic. “Is evasion possible?” he asks. “Where are the exits? Are they guarded?”

I try to think again of the scene in my dream. “There are angels everywhere…I don’t think evasion is possible. I had guards in front of me and behind, like an unfriendly escort.”

“Escort?” he asks, pouncing on the word. “Are they taking you somewhere?”

“More like leading because I’m operating under my own power,” I reply.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“I don’t know, but…”

“But?” he asks.

“But, I want to go—I need to go faster. I feel like they’re too slow because they keep looking at me like they’re looking at a train wreck or something and can’t look away,” I say, trying to read the looks on the angels’ faces in my mind.

“Why are you there?” Reed asks, and I see he is losing the battle to keep the anger from his voice.

“I don’t know,” I reply with honesty.

“Evie, this scenario doesn’t sound like our strategy at all to me.” he says accusingly.

“Our strategy? What’s our strategy?” I ask him, feeling stumped.

“Evasion. You, running like the wind away from all kinds of angels,” he says slowly, so that I will hear every word clearly.

“Oh, yeah right, my bad, you mean the ‘sell out strategy’ where I place myself above everyone and everything else—that strategy?” I reply with sarcasm.

“Evie.” Reed’s tone is harsh as if he can’t stop my name from exiting his mouth. I don’t want to fight with him so I turn toward him instead, scooting down the couch so that I can lean up against his side. In an instant, his arms are around me, hugging me close to him. “You have to run if you get a chance. I can take care of whatever comes when you are safely away from the situation,” he says, and I close my eyes, thinking about what he’s saying.

“Reed,” I say, “the only way that evasion will work for me, is if I don’t have to leave you holding the bag.”

“What do you mean by ‘holding the bag,’” he asks in confusion.

“If I’m running away and leaving you behind to deal with the threat, then that means I’m leaving you holding the bag—I leave you to face the danger that is meant for me,” I explain solemnly.

“I’m a Power, I live for danger—I crave it. It’s in my blood. That’s why I’m perfect for you. You attract danger and I’ll deal with it,” he says seriously.

I flinch. “You’re in love with me because I’m a danger magnet?” I ask.

“No, I’m in love with you for who you are, which is the most extraordinary being I have ever known. The danger is just a perk,” he replies.

“That’s really sick, and not the good sick, I mean the bad kind of sick,” I reply.

“Why is that sick? I’m just now beginning to see why I might be the one who is truly meant for you, for now anyway, because of what I am. I’m capable of protecting you,” he says, holding me close to him.

“How do I protect you then?” I ask, snuggling against his chest.

“I thought I had explained to you that I don’t need protection,” he says, stiffening.

“Okay… sheesh, don’t get offended. You’re the scariest angel I’ve ever beheld who never needs anyone else to defend him. Are you happy now?” I ask in exasperation.

“Yes, thank you,” he replies, kissing the top of my head.

“So, you’re attracted to the dangerous type? That’s very interesting, since I, too, am attracted to the dangerous type,” I say, tracing the pattern on his t-shirt with my fingertip.

“See, we’re perfect for each other,” he replies, and there is satisfaction in his voice. He radiates warmth and I smile sleepily when I realize how nice it is that I don’t need to convince him anymore that he is meant for me. He picks me up and heads to my bedroom. “You need to sleep now. There is a big day ahead of us, if I know anything about Buns and her sense of celebration.”

“It’s New Year’s Eve!” I say in surprise. Time just doesn’t seem to mean anything to me anymore, since I’m not as subject to it. Learning that I am an eternal being has done funny things to my priorities and concept of what is important. He places me on the big bed in my room and I scoot over immediately so that he can get in next to me.

“I’ll fall asleep faster if you stay with me,” I smile, watching him deliberate before caving in to my request and crawling into bed next to me. I snuggle next to his side.

“Only if you promise to sleep. Buns will not be held at bay when it comes to the party tonight. You have to be ready for anything,” he says, smiling. So I am good and I sleep.

“Sweetie, get up and come out to the kitchen. Breakfast has arrived and I need you to pick out an outfit for tonight,” Buns says as she breezes into my room.

“Buns, what are you talking about?” I ask her, rubbing my eyes.

“You’ll see,” she says, handing me a cup of coffee before leaving the room. I get out of bed, shower and style my hair before leaving my room. A light meal of fruit and croissants is waiting for me in the kitchen. As I eat, I watch Buns roll a garment rack full of dresses toward where I am. I glance at the rack questioningly, and then at Buns. Zephyr chuckles in the main room as the angels all watch me curiously.

“What’s this?” I ask as I push away from the counter to investigate the garment rack. Dozens of designer dresses flow off of hangers like silken liquid works of art.

“You have to pick one for tonight. There is a party at the lodge, champagne toast at midnight type thing. Not as exciting as fireworks on the pier, but it’ll have to do for now,” Buns says blandly.

“When did you have time to shop for all of these, Buns?” I ask, running my fingers lightly over the assortment of gowns.

Buns rolls her eyes at me then smiles. “I didn’t shop for them. This is a VIP perk. Concierge Services sent them over when I told them what I needed. You just have to pick one,” she says, watching me as I touch the dresses lightly.

“You guys
are
rock stars,” I say under my breath, but when Zephyr laughs again I remind myself to stop doing that because they can hear me.

I shuffle through the dresses, which are all very lovely, and when I look up I notice Reed watching me. “Do you have a favorite?” I ask, curious to see if he has an opinion.

He seems surprised that I would ask his opinion. “What would I know about women’s fashion?” he asks me as he comes to stand next to me by the rack of gowns.

“I don’t know, you’re male the last time I checked, so you probably at least know what you like when you see it. Do you see anything you like?” I ask again to see what he will do. His eyes scan over the dresses and there is one in particular that they rest on longer than the others. It’s silk and champagne in color with a strapless corset bodice and a long flowing skirt that would hug every curve I have all the way to the floor. “This one?” I ask, pulling it from the rack and holding it up for him to look at. His body stills as he scans it, and then he shrugs, as if he is indifferent to the dress. Something about his demeanor lets me know that he is far from indifferent to this particular dress.

Smiling to myself I head toward the bedroom with it, calling over my shoulder, “Buns, will you help me try this on?”

“Sure, sweetie,” Buns says, following me to my room. I change into the dress and I am amazed at my reflection in the mirror. Its effect is elegant and sophisticated, making me look older. The color of the dress is just a few shades darker than my skin so the color doesn’t conflict with the fiery tones in my hair. “I don’t think you have to try on any more dresses, sweetie. This is it,” Buns says. “But, don’t take my word for it. Go show Reed,” she says, smiling.

I step out of the bedroom and into the main room where Zephyr and Reed are quietly talking about the logistics of security tonight at the lodge. They are near the fire and when I approach the couch, whatever Reed was about to tell Zephyr is clearly forgotten as he stares at me.

“That is a pretty dress,” Zephyr says kindly when Reed is silent. Reed growls at Zephyr and my eyes widen as Zephyr cracks a huge smile. Turning toward Reed, he says, “I’m only stating the obvious.”

“Do you like it?” I ask Reed, as he rises from the sofa slowly and begins to circle me like a predator casing its victim with cool precision. Feeling the tension and restraint in his movements as he circles me, I can’t help the small shiver that escapes me.

“You look exquisite…and delicate,” Reed replies, while he approaches me from behind. The heat from his body radiates toward me as he breathes softly on my neck, “Too fragile for your own good,” he whispers.

“Are you calling me flimsy?” I ask, and then bite my bottom lip as he runs his fingertip lightly over the top of my shoulder to the slope of my arm.

“No, I’m telling you that you are in jeopardy,” he replies with tension in his voice as he lifts his hand from me.

“This dress places me at risk, huh?” I ask in a teasing way. “Do Seraphim angels usually let you get away with talking to them like that, or are you just taking advantage of my generous nature?”

“It is always a risk where Seraphim are concerned, but well worth the danger,” he replies.

Buns sighs, saying, “Ugh, I can’t wait until you evolve, sweetie, the tension is killing me.” She pulls me away from Reed who looks unwilling to let me go. “We have a spa appointment at the lodge and we’re not missing it. I’ll look after Evie while you guys go and do whatever it is you do,” Buns says in a dismissive tone as she leads me back to the bedroom to change.