Reborn (9 page)

Chapter 11

“Isn’t
it strange…”

The
familiar voice fades into the heavy silence, now punctuated only by a faint,
rhythmic beeping sound. I can’t tell who the voice belonged to; my eyes are
squeezed shut as I concentrate on trying to breathe instead. As hard as I try,
I can’t take even a small breath; my throat is closing up. I keep grasping for
consciousness, but it’s like someone is dangling it just out of my reach.

The
tips of my fingers brush something cool and metallic, and I open my eyes and
glance at my limp, outstretched hand. A copper goblet rolls back and forth on
the floor like someone has just dropped it. Burgundy red liquid pools on the
white marble. Slender but firm arms slide under my back to cradle me like a
baby.

“Isn’t
it strange how the very thing that keeps us beautiful, keeps us strong and
invincible, is the very thing that can be our undoing?” The voice is as
menacing as it is soothing, like a thousand tiny needles bristling underneath
cashmere. I look up under hooded lids at its source. Two icy jade eyes meet
mine…

“Turn it
off
!”

I wake up to the
sounds of my phone alarm and Tanya’s grumpy voice.

“Sorry.” I
blindly feel around for it on my nightstand and almost knock it onto the floor.
Tanya groans into her pillow again. “I’m
trying
.” I finally scoop the
phone up and shut it off.

Tanya rolls over
to look at me, struggling to keep her eyes open. “It’s Saturday. Go back to
sleep.”

“I
can’t. Sam wants to go early to buy stuff for tonight.” Sam is Sigma Iota’s
social chair. “Then we have to set up.” I don’t get up right away. Instead, I
sit upright in my bed, my mind desperately trying to salvage the ghostly tails
of my dream as they fade away.

“What’s
wrong?”

“Nothing.
I just had a weird dream.”

“About
what?”

I
pause, bringing my hand to my throat as I recall the feeling of not being able
to breathe or swallow. “About Farrah trying to kill me.”

I
hadn’t meant to say this out loud. But when I look up, Tanya is breathing
deeply again, her eyes closed. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I
slide to the floor and plod soundlessly to grab a towel and my shower caddy.
After my shower I throw on dark gray yoga pants and our black Greek Sing
t-shirt from last year. I go outside to meet Sam.

“You
look snazzy!” I call out. Sam emerges from the Sigma Iota house just as I’m
coming out. His usually flaming carrot red hair is muted and wet like he also
just got out of the shower. Unlike me, he looks ready for tonight’s Black and
White party. Sam and many of his Sigma Iota brothers are business majors, and
they’re well-known on campus for their suits. He smiles at me and waves.

“And
you
look like you just got up,” he teases me. “So, where to first?”

We
walk to the parking garage and get in Sam’s sleek red convertible. Our first
stop is the party store at the mall, followed by the supermarket. We drive back
to campus loaded with the supplies necessary to transform the smelly, sticky
Sigma Iota basement into an elegant cocktail lounge. After I’ve supervised the
party committee for a few hours, Sam takes over so I can go home to get ready.

“Are
you going to be okay here?” I ask.

“I
think I can manage,” Sam assures me.

I
nod and start climbing the stairs, but I stop three steps up. “Are you sure?”
So far we’ve swept, mopped, disinfected and set up round tables with chairs on
one side of the room, but all of the decorations still need to go up.

“What,
don’t you trust me?” he asks me, parting his lips to feign astonishment.

“Of
course I do. I’m sorry. I guess when it comes to our social events, I’m kind of
a control freak,” I admit.

Sam’s
look tells me that this is definitely the case.

Back
at the house, I change into a black strapless cocktail dress and heels. At the
bathroom sink I curl my hair and gather half of it back with a fake pearl hair
clip, letting a few curls loose to frame my face. I give my eyes what I hope is
a sultry, smoky look using gray shadow and charcoal eye liner. At eight, I meet
my sisters downstairs, and we all walk over to the SI house together.

The
risk managers from our respective houses stand at the front door giving wrist
bands to those who are twenty-one and over. They check me in first, and I hurry
to the basement to do a frantic, last-minute review of the room before my
sisters follow me downstairs. The black beads of the curtain hanging in the
doorway clack against each other as I part it with my fingers and step inside.

Sam
sees me coming in and walks over, grasping two glass goblets filled with red
liquid.

“It
looks great,” I tell him. Black and white puffs made of tissue paper dangle
from the ceiling, and clear holiday lights twinkle along the walls. Each table
is draped with a black polyester tablecloth and illuminated by a centerpiece of
white flowers and tealight candles. The Sigma Iota pledges are stuck with
serving duty and circulate the room in black suits juggling platters of hors
d’oeuvres. Next to the bar, a buffet table offers a selection of fruits,
pretzels and cookies for dipping into the molten chocolate rippling down the
fountain in the center. Jazz music thumps pleasantly in the background.

“A
toast to our awesomeness,” Sam says, offering me one of the wine glasses. I
grimace but take it anyway. Our glasses clink, and Sam takes a gulp of wine.

“What,
don’t like red wine?”

I
shake my head. “
Hate
it. Sorry.” He has no idea just how much I hate it.
The sight alone makes bile rise in the back of my throat.

“No
problem.” He takes the glass from me and cocks his head toward the bar. “I’ll
get you a cocktail instead.”

As
the night goes on, the D. J. eventually replaces the soft jazz soundtrack with
loud, throbbing techno, and the basement hums with tipsy chatter and laughter.
Hips sway to the music and lips interlock as people pair up for the evening.
I’m sitting in a back corner sipping a cosmopolitan and playing Assassin with
Tanya, Sam and some of the other SI brothers. Movement out of the corner of my
eye makes me look over my cards at the buffet, where Liz talks to someone as
she drenches a strawberry with chocolate. A large grin spreads on her face, and
she giggles at something her companion has just said. Elegant fingers reach out
to briefly touch the smooth mocha skin of her shoulder. The sleeves of his black
dress shirt are rolled up to the elbows, revealing lean forearms. My eyes
travel up to his broad shoulders and chin-length, slightly wavy dark hair. His
midnight blue eyes meet mine just as I’m finally realizing who it is.

Oh,
you have
got
to be kidding me.

I
throw my cards on the table and stand up.

“What
are you doing?” Tanya wonders.

“Sorry,
I need some air,” I tell them before running as fast as I can in my heels up
the stairs.

So
much for getting some air. When I burst through the front door, the night air
is stifling and heavy with the promise of rain. Lights and music pour from the
Saturday night parties going on at other houses. I slow down to an amble, the
heels of my shoes clicking angrily along the driveway. Behind me, a door groans
open and slams shut again.

“Siobhan,
wait!” Jasper’s voice calls out to me. His shoes smack against the sidewalk as
he jogs to catch up with me.

“Leave
me alone!” I toss back without breaking my stride. But then I whirl around,
crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“First
the concert, now the party?” I explode. “What are you doing? Stalking me or
something?”

He
catches up with me but keeps a few feet of distance between us. “I know how
this looks, but
no
, of course not. I’m an SI alum.”

“An
alum,” I repeat slowly. That’s unlikely, but sure enough I see the Sigma Iota
badge—a gold shield set with two garnets and one black opal—glinting from his
shirt collar.

“I
knew you were a Gamma—I should have mentioned it to you. I’m sorry.”

I
search his eyes for the truth, also taking this opportunity to admire the
marble white planes of his face and the sensuous curve of his lips. We’re
standing just where the edge of the porch light fades into darkness, and out
here his eyes take on the color of night, glinting like black diamonds. They
don’t seem to be lying, but then again, they’re not shining with honesty,
either. With those eyes Jasper can delve into my soul, but I can’t even skim
the surface of his.

This
has given me a good excuse to look at him, but now I’m finding it difficult to
look away. Or stay annoyed. I sigh and uncross my arms.

“I’m
sorry, too. I overreacted,” I insist, deciding to go along with his excuse—at
least for now. “I shouldn’t have assumed—that was really self-centered of me.”

“I
do
think we need to talk,” he says. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

I
look past him at the Sigma Iota house. As social chair, it’s pretty rude and
irresponsible of me to just up and leave in the middle of a mixer. But as far
as they know, I’m still with one of the brothers. We shouldn’t be gone for
long.

To
be honest, I’m dying to hear what he’s so eager to tell me.

“Sure,”
I concede.

At first, Jasper
and I walk side-by-side in tense silence. After only a few minutes of this I
can’t stand it anymore.

“So, how do you know
Liz?” I wonder.

“I’ve
had her in class,” he explains. “She’s a nice person. I’m setting her up with
one of the brothers.”

From the look
Liz was giving Jasper, I think there’s only
one
Sigma Iota brother she’s
interested in.

We
lapse back into silence. I watch my feet clomp over the ground, but I can sense
Jasper’s eyes on me.

“What did you
want to talk about?” I look over at him and still give a start when I realize
that he is, in fact, staring at me. Our eyes meet, and he smiles almost shyly.

“Sorry if I’m
making you uncomfortable. It’s just…you have blossomed into an even more
beautiful woman than I could have imagined.”

It’s such a
cheesy line—the kind that would usually make me burst out laughing. But instead
my breath catches in my throat, and the slow, deliberate way he says “beautiful
woman” makes heat gather between my thighs. I find myself falling into his
penetrating gaze. I’m not sure I like the feeling. It’s what I imagine sky
diving must feel like—an exhilarating, scary plunge into the unknown.

“What did you
mean at the bar?” I persist.

“Hm?”

“I
told you I remembered you from the forest, but you said that’s not what you
were talking about. So what
were
you talking about?”

Jasper
hesitates. “Siobhan, what I have to tell you is going to be hard to believe. I
know you don’t remember me, don’t know me, but I hope as time goes on I can
earn your trust again.”

Again?
What the heck is he talking about? I hide my incredulity with an encouraging
smile.

“We’ve
met before—before you and your friends found me in the forest,” he clarifies.
“You knew me in a past life.

Part Two

Surrender

“Love looks not
with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted
blind.”–William Shakespeare,
A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Chapter 12

“A
past life?” I try to stifle my laughter, but it still
comes out through
my nose. I cover my nose and mouth with my hand and clear my throat.

“Yes. A past
life on another world.
My
world.”

“Just when I
thought it couldn’t possibly get any better.” I shake my head, my mouth opening
and closing like it yearns to say more, but I have nothing left to say. I turn
around and walk back toward the Sigma Iota house.

“What are
you…where are you going?” In two swift steps Jasper is walking alongside me
again.

“All I want are
some answers!” I exclaim in frustration.

“I know. And I’m
trying to give you some.”

“No, you’re
not.” I stop abruptly, and Jasper takes a few steps past me before he realizes
it and comes to a stop himself. “I want to know how you gave me these wings.
And
why
?” I demand, marching up to him and getting in his face. Well, as
much as a five-foot-two girl standing on the tips of her toes can get in
anybody’s face. “Why did you give them to me and then just…leave? What are you
doing here?”

“Sorry, your
wings
?”
he asks me. His eyes narrow with concern. Even though I know I shouldn’t doubt
myself, for a brief moment I'm humiliated, afraid that I've been under the
wrong assumption for the last six years, that Jasper didn’t do anything to me,
that I was always a freak...

Jasper laughs,
but it falters when he sees my face, which I can feel is scarlet red. “It was
just a joke,” he mumbles.

“
These
are the questions I want answered,” I continue as if he hadn’t just made that
lame attempt to lighten the mood. “Instead you feed me some garbage about
knowing you in a past life. Oh, and on another planet.” While my own
incredulous laughter rings out into the night, whispers of doubt massage the
back of my mind:
You dreamed about him before you even met him. Maybe he’s
telling the truth.

“You want to
know why I’m here?” Jasper grabs my chin with his hand and brings my face
closer to his. His eyes drill even more deeply into mine, if that’s possible.
“I’m here for
you
.”

The color drains
from my face, and I stagger backwards without really going anywhere because of
his unrelenting grasp. “Is that supposed to be a threat? You’re going to need
to try harder.” My hoarse whisper betrays my fear. The flesh of my back ripples
as my wings stir underneath it.

Jasper releases
my face. “Of course not. That came out wrong.” He turns away from me, digging
his hands into his pockets.

“You wanted to
know why I’m here,” he says, facing me again. “I’m trying to tell you. You’re
someone very important back home.”

“
Your
home.”

“
Our
home,” he corrects me. “I gave you your wings back because I thought they would
help you remember who you are.”

“
Great
plan. Too bad it didn’t work. So, how did you give them to me?” I ask again.

He
sighs, running a hand through his hair. “When you reached out to me, touched my
hand with your own, I transferred them to you through the magic of my touch.”

“Please
don't give me this ‘magic’ crap. I'm a biology major.”

Is
that a flash of annoyance crossing his face? It’s gone so quickly I'm not sure
if I imagined it or not.

“There’s a fruit
on our world whose nectar contains a special compound,” he explains rather
reluctantly. “Its effects are most potent if you consume it, but exposure
through skin contact works well enough. It gave your body its ability to make
wings.”

“Like a
mutation?” But this wouldn't make sense, either. If this mysterious alien
compound
did
mutate my DNA, it would most likely impair the proteins I
already have, not give me the ability to make new ones—ones needed to grow wings.
I’ll have to think about this some more. Right now, I have another, more
pressing question for Jasper.

“How
could you do that to me without asking first?”

“Do what? I gave
you a
gift
.” Jasper puts a hand to his chest, looking deeply offended.
“After which, from what I recall, you and your friends left me for
dead
.”

My memories of
that night resurface, and I can see him sprawled on the ground, a sheen of
sweat on his pale skin. I can hear his voice, how he struggled to speak to me,
as if pain sliced through him with every word.

“I
felt sick and ran off. My wings were about to emerge, but I didn’t know that,”
I explain. “Anna and Jimmy were worried and went after me. We came back to help
you, but you were already gone. What was wrong with you?”

“Our world is in
a universe parallel to this one. It’s forbidden for us to cross over to Earth.
Others tried to stop me.”

“Who? The Fringe
Division? Does crossing over cause the breakdown of both our worlds?”

“What?”

“You’ve never
watched ‘Fringe?’” Jasper’s response is a tilt of the head and quizzical
slanting of his eyes. “It was a TV show,” I tell him.

He shrugs. “I
don’t watch a lot of television.”

“My people are
difficult to kill,” he continues. “We’re virtually immortal from a human’s
perspective, but death does not completely elude us. I was quite sure I would
die that night. As a last effort I sent up a signal for help.”

“How did you
know
I
would see it?”

“I didn’t.” He
smiles as if this is the most beautiful realization of all. “I had just gotten
to Earth—I had no idea where you would be or how I would ever find you. Fate
let you and your friends see my signal—brought you to me that night.”

"I don't
believe in fate." Even so, his assertion makes me shiver.

Again, a
fleeting look darkens his face—this time of disappointment—but he quickly
returns to storytelling mode. “You and your friends left, and that’s when Eric
found me.”

“Wait—you mean
Dr. Mars?”

Jasper nods. “He
took me to one of your hospitals. The warmth, rest and fluids revived my self-healing
abilities. My condition and unexpected survival were something of a mystery to
the hospital staff.” He smiles at the memory. Meanwhile my mind has latched
onto “self-healing abilities.” Jimmy. If what Jasper says about me is true, why
does Jimmy have them, but I don’t? Actually, why does Jimmy have them, at all?
I don’t ask him, though. He doesn’t need to know about Jimmy.

“Eric took me
in. I enrolled in his department—”

“How did you
manage that?” I wonder. Jasper sighs at the interruption, but I go on. “You
don’t have a high school transcript.”

His lips curl
into a wicked grin. “I can be
very
persuasive. Anyway, I blew through
undergrad in three years and am three years into the PhD program. Just biding
my time. My plan was to seek you out again once you were older. Then you showed
up in Eric’s class, and I didn’t have to.”

“Please,” I beg
him, holding up a cautionary hand, “do
not
tell me it was fate.” I
manage to say this around the hard lump of fear congealing in my throat. This
can’t all just be coincidence, but right now it’s the most comforting
explanation. If there are any other more rational, less creepy alternatives to
his account, none are coming to mind.

He
doesn’t reply, but his expression tells me he believes it was fate, indeed.

I
glance back at the Sigma Iota house. We’ve been in such deep conversation I
almost forgot why we were standing in the middle of the Quad in the first
place. The SI brothers are escorting my sisters out the front door.

“I
guess the mixer’s over,” Jasper says. We walk the rest of the way to the
black-and-white clad crowd lingering on the lawn.

“Have
dinner with me tomorrow night,” Jasper asks me abruptly. When I don’t respond
right away, he adds, “I think you still have questions for me. And I’d really
like to get to know you better.”

“I
thought we already knew each other so well. You know, in my past life.” Jasper
flinches as I splash him with this next round of verbal acid. He’s bringing out
my sarcastic side. I’m starting to sound like Carly.

“We
did. But it was foolish of me to assume you’d still be that same person,” he
admits. “Your experiences in your new life have shaped you into the woman you
are now. I want to get to know
you
, Siobhan.” The intensity with which
he voices this final wish makes me wonder exactly how we knew each other in the
past—if we even did. I push this unsettling thought to the back of my mind.

“Okay,”
I reply. “Mind if I bring a friend?”

“I
don’t really think we need chaperones.” Jasper sounds annoyed, but then he
follows it up with, “If it makes you more comfortable, please do, although it
kind of defeats the purpose. We won’t be able to talk candidly.”

“I’ll
bring Anna.”

He
nods. “I see. Well, in that case, I’ll bring a friend along, too. I know
someone who wants to meet her.”

This
strikes me as odd, but I don’t press him because I see Victoria coming out of
the Sigma Iota house, hiking up the floor-length skirt of her black dress to
avoid tripping. While she says something to Liz, her eyes dart from me to
Jasper a few times, her brow furrowed. Liz follows her gaze.

Liz’s
jaw hits the sidewalk, her eyes popping out of her head in fury.

“
You
stupid bitch
!” she growls. Liz takes off at full speed in my direction,
leaving an even more confused-looking Victoria in her wake.

I’m
frozen as I watch Liz barrel toward me.

She’s
about to plow into me when Jasper steps around me and reaches out to halt Liz
with one firm grasp on her shoulder.

“You
don’t want to do this—” Jasper’s words of caution are cut off when Liz knees
him hard in the crotch. He gasps and, although it doesn’t look as painful for
him as it would be for a human, she succeeds in startling him. It frees her
from his grasp and she knocks into me, pushing me to the ground.

“You
stay
away
from him! Slut!” She lashes out, her arms swinging like
pendulums. Victoria rushes over and tries to pull her off of me. I writhe and
kick, but Liz’s holding me to the ground with almost inhuman strength. I mean,
I know I’m tiny, but I would never have thought she was this strong. She
doesn’t even work out.

“Liz,
please.” It comes out as a croak. Her legs straddle me to keep me down while
she clutches my neck with her hands.

“Stop
it, Liz!” Victoria shrieks.

“Get
out of the way!” Jasper snaps at Victoria. “I’ve got this!”

“Oh,
I think
you’ve
done quite enough!”

I
actually feel the air starting to go out of me. The world is fading in and out,
and Liz’s crazed eyes and snarling lips are the only things I can see when it
blinks back into existence. I have the strangest sense of déjà vu.

“Please,
get
out
of my way!”

Jasper
swiftly picks Victoria up and sets her aside as easily as if she were a paper
doll. His hands grab Liz’s and pry them off of me. He wraps his arms underneath
her armpits and drags her the rest of the way off.

But
it might be too late.

I
hear myself moan, and then everything goes dark.