Obumbrate (9 page)

Her stare darkened with confusion. "What poison?" She followed my twitching hand to my side, where my fingers dared not to touch the swollen and festering wound.

Slowly and as gently as she could, she lifted back the edge of my shirt. I saw a nauseating blend of colors covering the skin she had exposed, and nearly gagged.

"How long have you had this? Why didn't you tell me you were infected?" She looked panicked. Immediately she helped me to my feet. "A Vens' poison can-"

"Kill you, I know," I finished with a gasp, breathing against the sensation of heavy pressure weighing on my chest. My vision started to dim. "There's a salve, though, right?"

She gave a jerky nod of the head. "Yes, I have some at home in an emergency kit. We have to get you there immediately."

Everything was starting to blur together. Rainbow swirls danced in front of my eyes, and I willed myself not to barf. "But you said, you said you couldn't help." My voice felt thick, submerged underwater. "I have to get back to my brother..." 

"You can return to your brother in the morning, Essallie." Serena shuffled forward as I leaned on her. "You're in no condition to help him, anyway."

I started to mumble something to her, but someone had shut off the lights. Darkness surrounded me, plunging me into a solitude of emptiness.

And for once, I was grateful.

CHAPTER FIVE

WE WILL NEVER FALL

Leo was watching me.

He looked just as I had last remembered him; black tuxedo nicely pressed, blonde hair ruffled and carelessly tossed about. When he reached out a hand to help me up, I noticed I was wearing my mother's white gown again, not a trace of blood on either of us.

"Well don't you look enchanting?" Leo spun me into his arms, beaming. Dipping me low, he placed a gentle kiss against my collarbone and softly murmured. "Why I didn't do this sooner I'll never know."

"Leo," I gasped, heat scorching my cheeks to a rosy tint. "Ursula, she's going to see this-"

"To hell with Ursula. To hell with everyone but us, Essie."

I pulled back from Leo as he went to place another kiss on my collarbone. His eyes sparkled as he looked at me, a blazing fire of exultation. Happiness radiated off of him, and he shined as bright as the sun.

"You know I'd never leave you, Essie." He stood up, bringing me up too, until both feet were firmly planted on the ground. His hands found my cheeks, thumbs rubbing small circles over my skin. "You're too important to me to lose."

Staring into his eyes, I almost believed him. Until I looked around at our surroundings. Nothing but white, stretched as far the eye could see. Like an empty canvas, we were the only thing in the middle of a vast expanse of my imagination.

I did my best to not to cry, but tears had already run over my cheeks and onto Leo's fingers. "Leo, none of this is real."

He grinned and gave me the same crooked smile I recalled. "Of course it's real. We're both alive, how can this not be real?"

"Because," I whispered. "You died."

Leo stepped back, shaking his head and giving a weak laugh. He opened his mouth to speak, when blood started to spread across his chest, covering his white shirt in a bright red. With a shudder, he collapsed onto the floor, wheezing until nothing but silence echoed around me.

That's when I started to scream.

I gasped.

My eyes flung open as I shot myself forward, sitting sharply upright in bed. Sheets laid in a tangled heap around my feet, twisting around like a snake slithering up its prey. My chest rose and fell, each breath a struggle to finish.

I gave up; clamping my hands over my eyes, I let out a choked sob. Leo. Leo, Leo, freaking dead-and-never-coming-back Leo. Why couldn't I stop dreaming about him? Thinking about him brought the fire to life inside me, a riot building on the edge of a cliff.

My dreams seemed to be caught between premonitions and memories anymore. If it wasn't Leo I was dreaming about, it was Kayden luring me to my own violent death. Last time I had dreamt of Leo had been two days before I left for New York. I ended up discarding the sheets in secret and buying new ones, the shock from having set them on fire too much to handle in the moment. I had lied to Jayson, told him I had used the sheets for art class or something. The dreams were seeming to only be getting worse as time went on, as if the product of my imagination wanted to see me go insane like my Mother had.

Judging by where I was, I almost thought I had gone mad. The twin-size bed I was on had basic, cream colored sheets and comforter set. The bed frame looked dated but still in good condition, the dark wood posts carved to resemble vines twisting up the sides and into the canopy above. A small bedside table made of the same wood had a glass jug, some rags, and a bowl of purple goop inside of it. Purple goop withstanding, everything looked incredibly normal. Had I gone home without realizing it? I tried to think back; the last thing I could remember was Serena inching us to the door out of the flower shop, just before everything went black.

I gave the wad of sheets at my feet a little kick and got out of bed. A small vanity I had missed earlier stood in the corner, several different hairbrushes and mirrors on top. Picking up the largest mirror, I got a full look at myself since the alleyway. I had a good feeling I resembled a traumatized homeless vagrant; One look in the mirror told me I hadn't been far off. A thin, superficial cut ran across my cheek where my phone had been as I had called Jayson. Mixtures of dirt and dried blood stained my clothes and matted part of my hair to my scalp. Hollow, desolate eyes stared back at me, reminding me of a corpse. At the bottom hem of my t-shirt, a purple stain gave a dash of color against the filth and grime. Something pushed at my mind, and I lifted my shirt up.

The bite marks from the Vens was still visible, but barely. All of the blotched and swollen skin had vanished. Only the permanent black-and-blue bruise from Chase stayed the same. That meant that Serena had gotten me here, used the purple salve, and saved my life.

Downstairs, I could hear her voice, softly singing in a language I didn't know. Crossing the room, I opened the door to a small landing, a set of tightly wound spiral steps laced with the same carved vine pattern leading downstairs. I took the steps easily and followed the sound of Serena's voice.

As I got closer, I could hear that she wasn't actually singing; she was talking to someone. Keeping back, I did my best to say silent and overhear the exchange.

Serena sighed furiously, the sound of china being set on a table. "She thinks I can save her."

"Of course she thinks you can. You came to her in the wake of a defining moment," a male voice replied. "You gave her answers no other soul would and caught her in a critical moment." He paused and took a small inhale, the rustle of fabric as he moved in his seat. "I am curious though..."

"Be curious all you want, but I have no way to explain what happened," Serena spoke firmly. "I cannot explain the phenomenon that occurred."

"Maybe there's a chance she's already ascended?"

"Impossible," I heard her say, and I imagined her shaking her head in disagreement. "Her gift is wild, uncontrollable. She's as unreasonable with her power as a mortal female would be with body chemistry." There was a sound of chairs moving from the floor. "She claims to have killed a Vens."

"Her?" Disbelief colored the male's voice. I strained to hear as it dropped lower, softer. I knew him from somewhere, that much I was sure. "There's no way. You said so yourself, she's wild. The level of control required to do that..."

"I know, but how else can the poison be explained?"

"I'm not saying she didn't come into contact with a Vens, but defeat one? Improbable."

The sound of feet on the floor as a chair pushed back. "I had better check on her."

"Serena, sit." The male voice chastised with a lazy tone. "She has legs, doesn't she? Let her come down when she's ready." Another chair moved just as the sound of china clinked gently together. "I'll fetch more tea, heaven knows you could use some."

"I wouldn't be this tense if," Serena stopped abruptly. "If things were-"

"If you didn't have a loose cannon for a Nephilim in your home?"

Silence.

"That's not what I meant," she said softly.

The male spoke again, gentler than before. "Just relax. I came here to help, and that's what I intend on doing."

I waited until the sound of feet trailed off before allowing myself to breathe. Serena was going to owe me some serious explanations, especially after last night.

Stepping into the room, I had to blink a few times to adjust. Serena was perched in a sunken living room eerily resembling a tea room from the 1900's; ornately patterned furniture and drapes of coordinating colors of gold, green, and brown blended the room into a picture straight from a movie. Little trinkets sat on small shelves around the room, appearing delicate and crafted from thin and colored glass.

A small spindle of sunlight trickled in through the heavy drapes. "Serena?"

She jolted in her seat, shoulders bunching into her neck as she stiffened. Looking up at me, she smiled and slowly unwound. "How are you feeling?"

"You want the real answer?" I laughed bitterly. "Picture a steamroller flattening me. That's probably the most accurate way to answer your question."

"So, then it's like any other day?" She winked, and this time I genuinely laughed.

"Same story, different day of the week." I sat down on the edge of an ornately patterned chair, leaning forward. A small dark wood coffee table with mint green engraved carvings rested between us, sporting a small white tea cup and matching plate. It was all a little overwhelming to take in. "I didn't take you for the old fashioned type."

She took a glance around the room, a fond smile on her lips. "Yes, I guess you could say I miss older times."

"Is everyone's home in Charon like this?"

"Heavens no, not even close." She gestured to one of the shelves decorated in the delicate glass trinkets. "This was once my father's home, as was his before that. I wanted to preserve the memory of family, not favor the idea of an empty existence. That's why I still run his flower shop."

My eyebrows rose. "That place was your father's?"

She nodded. "Not much has changed for my branch of the family, not here or in Charon, for the last several centuries." Her tone dropped as her gaze darkened. "But many have changed their perceptions and views on how things should be in the world. They've fed into the lies the higher ups continue to feed them."

I glanced around the room nervously. Even in the real world, I wasn't one for politics, and the last thing I wanted was a lecture on offices in Charon. "Serena, earlier I heard-"

"For example? That
Queen
," Serena continued to rattle on, sneering in disgust at the mention of the Queen. "Is a bottom-feeding, mind-bending, manipulative excuse for a ruler. You'd do well to never trust a word that comes from her mouth."

I started to object about the Queen, and how she had given me the secrets of Kayden's ulterior motives, when she sighed. Her hand came to rest on my knee as she looked at me wistfully. "She'll do anything to have a power as strong as yours, even in a raw state."

Yeah, my power was raw alright. Raw enough to soon burn me to death from the inside out. "I'll die before that ever happens."

And how true that was.

A deep clearing of throat stopped the chit-chat between us. I turned my head to the open archway leading from the kitchen to see a boy standing still, a tea tray held in his hands. He looked eerily familiar; something about his peachy skin, muscular frame, and brilliant platinum blonde hair set off every alarm bell within my head. I could practically hear Paul Revere galloping on a horse in my head, crying out, "The memories are coming! The memories are coming!"

He set the tray down on the coffee table, handing Serena a new cup of smoldering tea, then extended one to me.

I felt the air whoosh out of my lungs the second our eyes met. Like a final piece of the puzzle being put into place, my mind instantly transported me back to the first day I had woken up in Charon's hospital. Faces had come and gone, secrets had been dumped on my shoulders with little warning, but one person had sat in the confines of my mind, nearly lost in the mix of things.

Ari blinked his stormy teal eyes, a question stirring within. "Are you alright?"

Staring up and down his frame, I tried to unlock my tongue from the roof of my mouth. "You're not wearing the white gloves you last had on."

His eyebrows rose just as the corners of his mouth hitched. "So you do remember me."

"Not exactly hard to forget someone when they claim to be something as damning as Nephilim."

"There should be some level of irony in using 'damning' in the same sentence as 'Nephilim'."

"I'm sure there is, but the joke is on us, unfortunately."

He was fighting it now; his lips had grown to a full smile bordering on outbursts of laughter. "What part? The part where everyone expects us to be vile and slithering demons, or angelic dancing cherubs clothed in loincloths?"

My grin started to match his. "Oh, the cherub part, undoubtedly. I'll take being called a demon any day over wearing a strip of cloth and floating in the clouds, waiting for the cold to freeze my ass off and perk my-"

"Essallie,"
Serena interrupted with a high-pitched squeak. "I think Ari gets it."

Ari dragged one of the expensive chairs alongside me. He dropped into it smoother than a hot knife skimming through butter. He spared Serena a small apologetic glance before turning back to lock eyes with me. "It's good to know your memory is intact."

I nodded while trying to raise the cup of tea to my lips. "You didn't exactly earn points for being courteous, but you earned a few for startling the hell out of me."

"I'd say I did a good job, then. Nephilim shouldn't really carry the enemy within," he said with a smirk.