Lightning Kissed (20 page)

And for the first time in my life, I ignored
the summons.

“Hey, you didn’t have to leave. She’s
okay.”

I tucked my phone back in my pocket. “I
thought maybe the three of you needed a moment.”

“We did.” His eyebrows pulsed. “Thank you.
That was thoughtful.”

“You’ve got a little,” I said and dabbled at
the side of my mouth, “shock all over your face.”

“I’m not shocked. What would I be shocked
at? That you were thoughtful? Okay, maybe a little.”

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s this new thing I’m
trying out. It’s called manners.”

He sat down on the couch beside me and
pulled me onto his lap. “You know, I’ve heard of manners.”

“I’m pretty sure you wrote the book,
Eidolon.”

One of my eyebrows cocked as I called him
that title for the first time. I wanted to try it out—see how it
felt and how he felt about it. In all honesty, I expected his
trademark smug attitude about it. Instead, his whole demeanor
changed. A despair—almost a loneliness washed over his features and
drew his mouth downward.

“It was so weird being called that today.
But it’s time I got used to it. If the Eidolon was anyone else and
showed up in front of me, I wouldn’t hesitate to call him by
anything but that name. I didn’t ask for this. Either way, I have
to learn to accept it.” He turned me to face him and tipped my chin
up with his forefinger. “But you,
meu Amada
, I only want you
to call me by my name please. If everyone begins to look at me
differently—I need you to look at me like you are right now.”

My fingers threaded through his hair. It
needed to be cut. He’d obviously had other things on his mind the
past few weeks. “How?”

“How do you look at me?”

“Yes. I don’t know. I mean, I know how I
mean to look at you, but I…”

He chuckled and the motion rocked us both. I
took the moment, while he did that thing where he overthought every
single word, to really amend the way I looked at him. Memories of
us flooded my mind. Theo and Colby before there was talk of Eidolon
or flashing. Theo and Colby before the world and its demands got in
the way.

“Tell me what that is. Tell me what you are
thinking about right this second.”

“Me and you. It’s always been me and you. No
matter how stubborn I am, no matter how hard I fight you. Even when
I push you as far away as I can and when it’s not far enough, I
cross the planet to get away from you. No matter what, it will
always be me and you.”

He brought his face as close to mine as he
could. Chocolate chip cookies laced his breath, and what girl in
her right mind doesn’t want to be kissed by a boy who tastes like
chocolate? His eyes danced around my face before landing on my
lips. It wasn’t his eyes I wanted on my mouth. His eyes and mouth
rose simultaneously in a smile. “Took you long enough.”

And then he got smacked in the arm.

“Will you make me a promise?” He
sobered.

“Of course.”

“If things get weird or too much for you to
handle, can you remember me like this?”

The air thickened in my throat. Invisible
hands clutched my lungs and wrung them out until nothing was left
of them or the rest of my chest. A solidly monotone ringing began
between my ears and blocked out everything he was saying. His mouth
was moving, but nothing could be heard but the alarm. No, this
couldn’t happen. This wasn’t about me.

Like a vacuum, the selfishness was sucked
away and replaced with my responsibility to Theo, once again. Maybe
one day I wouldn’t have to remember to not be selfish.

Was that too much to ask of myself?

“Colby, I’m sorry.” Those were the first
words I heard after crawling out of myself.

“No.” I pulled him forward, gripping the
collar of his shirt like it was the last raft in a raging ocean.
“No matter what. No matter how hard it gets. This time it’s going
to be me who stands firm. This time, unless you want me gone, then
you are stuck with me forever.”

Tears welled in his eyes, and I realized
that I’d never seen Theo cry, even after his brother
disappeared.

“Sounds like bonding rights to me,” a
baritone voice entered our cocoon, uninvited.

“Is that what that was?” Theo questioned me
in jest, attempting to tickle my sides to drive his point in. But
there was no jest in my intentions.

“I think that’s what it was,” I poured every
ounce of intensity I owned into those words. If he didn’t believe
me, no blame would be placed.

“If you speak those words, you shouldn’t
think—you should know.”

“Then I know.”

Hazel entered the room next, and I realized
how much I missed our privacy. Bonding ceremonies weren’t like
human engagements. Males didn’t save up for extravagant rings and
plan grandiose promenades of affection. They happened naturally and
freely. And it made them more beautiful and honest than the most
detailed, planned out proposal. Males didn’t have to ask for the
father’s permission or jump through hoops. It was simply accepted
that when a female chose her mate—then that was the end of it.
Formal vows were often exchanged later on, but that one intimate
moment could never quite be recaptured.

A female’s choice in a mate was never
questioned.

And once their choice was made—it was
solidified for life.

“There should be no formal vows exchanged
without Rebekah and Sable present. Don’t make me go up against the
Prophetess and be forced to explain why we allowed this. I’ve seen
that woman in action. She is like a vicious little dragon.”

Hazel’s honesty broke through the
seriousness and we all laughed in comedy and joy.

“We will go tomorrow and speak to her before
we return to Collin and whoever else is waiting for us.”

“That’s an excellent plan and
congratulations.” His parents mentioned before taking their
exit.

BONDING
CEREMONIES SHOULD BE OVERSEEN BY THE SYNOD.

Holding Colby like that, in the home of my
parents, listening to her say words I thought I’d only hear through
dire circumstances—I fell more in love with her.

There was something so pure and raw about
her like this. It pained me to think that being like this was
uncomfortable. She still struggled with emotional displays. But a
little discomfort in a relationship isn’t always a bad
thing—especially for Colby. The girl needed to be brought down a
few levels.

“I think you should go to bed,” I said as I
squeezed her waist.

“Why? Come on, I just confessed my undying
love. It was a breakthrough. Let’s flash to the Great Wall and let
me shout it out!”

Leave it to Colby to have an emotional
breakthrough in the middle of my existential crisis.

“Let’s wait until we see your grandmother
and find out whatever in the hell I am supposed to do before we
begin the shouting, please.”

She sighed. “I guess you’re right. Always
playing it safe. Tomorrow, you will face the dragon lady, Rebekah.
And we have to tell my mom. Okay?”

“Of course. Your grandmother loves me. In
this relationship, she’ll probably be more concerned about you
bringing me down.”

She feigned insult and then shrugged one
shoulder. “Actually, you’re right. Goodnight, Theo.”

“Goodnight, Colby.”

***

The next morning, my parents were all
smiles. Colby had become a jittery mess like I’d never seen her
before. In fact, I’d never seen her nervous about anything before.
She always carried a charismatic version of pompousness that
couldn’t be rivaled.

She paced the kitchen as I tried, in vain,
to finish breakfast. I was taking my time on purpose, just using
this opportunity to make her wig out a little bit more than she
already was. It was ridiculous. Every time she passed a different
surface she would tap on it twice—once for her nervousness and once
for her frustration with me for taking so long.

She groaned so loudly when I asked my mom
for more orange juice that I figured I’d pushed her to the
limit.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

“Well, I’m glad the Synod wasn’t waiting,
you’d be Resin ground meat.”

“Let’s go. You’re extra snarky today.
Rebekah will get a kick out of that.”

We said our goodbyes to my parents and
flashed to Rebekah’s kitchen. Rebekah didn’t have a phone, that
being one of the modern day conveniences that she openly shunned,
so there was no way of announcing our visit.

We flashed directly into her kitchen. She’d
once told Colby not to flash into her living room, because she
often had canasta games in there with her friends and didn’t want
to frighten them. Colby agreed, not wanting to be the person that
put an old woman over the cliff.

Colby’s wake faded quickly, but I could
still see it was tinged red along the edges. Colby’s wake was never
red.

Something was very wrong.

Several sensations hit me at once. The first
was the temperature of the place. It was wintertime in Louisiana,
and one of the reasons Rebekah agreed to move there after she was
dismissed was the jungle-like heat. She often said when she got too
cold her joints rebelled.

It was cold as ice in the house.

Colby was more still than a marble statue,
staring at something behind me. I turned, expecting to find a
robber or something worse. Instead, I found a half-eaten peach,
perched alongside a paring knife—the fruit had already begun to
spoil.

The thing about Rebekah was she was so put
together—nothing was ever out of place.

Colby screaming Rebekah’s name broke the
silence. We didn’t bother to walk, we flashed throughout the house.
Every room was checked in seconds except the bathroom. When we were
kids we’d called it the blood bathroom. Everything in the room,
from the tiles on the floor, to the claw-foot bathtub, and even the
toilet were bright red, the color of a poisonous apple.

We stood in front of the door, which was
shut. Colby’s hand shook so much when she tried to turn the knob
that I had to help her with it. At first glance, there was nothing
wrong. Everything was in place, just like Rebekah liked it. The
stark white towels that so contrasted the red tiles and fixtures
were all in order, the floors were waxed to a gleam—everything but
the shower curtain.

The atmosphere in that tiny room palpitated
with sin. Wickedness and sorrow thickened the oxygen and my throat
closed a bit, wanting to keep the wretched air out. My heart
pounded, expecting the worst.

Colby took one step toward the bathtub and
before I could stop her, she jerked the shower curtain open, nearly
ripping it from its keeper.

And inside was Colby’s grandmother.

The water surrounding Rebekah matched the
shade of red she adored so much. Her head hung back over the
opposite side of the bathtub, revealing a large gape in her neck.
Her impeccable pearls drooped over the tub’s side.

Someone had slit her throat wide open.

The edges of my vision clouded and my
heartbeat drummed out the sound of Colby’s soul-wrenching
screams.

The Prophetess, the messenger, born to give
our species divine direction and knowledge lay murdered before us.
It would take someone beyond reprieve, beyond forgiveness to pull
off a crime so mutinous. It was a sign to me—a sign sure to hurt
Colby—which was the same as slitting my throat.

There was no time for planning what to do
next, the only thing left to do was catch Colby before her head hit
the bathroom floor. Because as soon as she stopped wailing at the
sight of her grandmother, her knees buckled, as she apparently
realized the truth of the situation. I didn’t think. I didn’t
consider my options or weigh what was best for anyone in the
situation but her. Lifting her up, I pulled her against my chest
and got out of there.

The first place I thought of was her mom’s
house. She’d want to go there. It felt like the situation was
steering me—like I had no control over my movements or decisions.
Straight into her bedroom I travelled—except in the irrationality
of my motions, I landed right next to her dresser, and everything
on top of it turned over in my haste. I set Colby down on her bed.
Nothing was ever too much for Colby to handle—nothing.

Her passing out scared the hell out of
me.

“What in the hell is going on in here,
Colby?” Sable barreled into the room, guns blazing, until she saw
Colby laying on the bed and me, standing there, looking like an
idiot—or a coward, I didn’t know which.

“Rebekah,” was the only thing I could mutter
and it killed me how pathetic I sounded.

With no hesitation, Sable was gone, leaving
a scarlet and gray wake with grainy notes. Seconds later, she came
back, and for the next few minutes, she and I stood in a stale
silence. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were already ringed
with red.