Secret Worlds (62 page)

Adrian booked the flight using something called ICAO codes instead of the KAPA or OSDI codes normally used by airports.

Charles and Adrian discussed the details of travel, while I worked on developing whatever power I might contain. I sank back to the visions I’d stolen from Ivory along with some strange moments I’d had growing up.

In third grade, an eraser I hadn’t even touched had flown off my desk and across the room. I’d gotten detention for that. Another time, when I was sixteen, a door I hadn’t even touched slammed in Mother’s face, almost as if it had a mind of its own. Or, at least, almost like it shared a mind with me.

Even the dishes that had fallen over during my positive energy ritual might have been a result of my gift. At the time, I thought it’d only been the wind. How many of these moments were signs of my powers breaking through?

The only thing those moments had in common was how hurt or angry or frustrated I’d been at the time. How could my powers be good if they came from negative emotions?

It’s all about your intentions
, I told myself.

With that in mind, I tried to summon all my hurt and anger, which wasn’t too hard. I’d been suppressing those emotions for hours. Years, if you count the rest of my life leading up to this point.

I focused all that conjured energy on trying to move a pencil from the table. When that didn’t work, I took a break for a cup of apple-vanilla tea and lit a few candles before trying again. Another thirty minutes passed with no success. I lost count of how many times I tried, but I wasn’t giving up. I closed my eyes and centered all my energy inward, trying to build up a store of power, then opened my eyes to try again.

The pencil budged—a small bubble of excitement tickled in my chest—but then the leaden utensil shot across the table and smacked against the wall. The splintered wood and snapped lead crashed to the floor.

I sighed. I had no control over this ‘gift’ and not much time to gain any. I sat on the edge of the bed with the violin Adrian had run out to pick up earlier. I lifted it and tried to imagine what it would’ve been like to be Mary. To be
me
.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled the bow across the strings. The air in my lungs felt suddenly strange, and my heart fluttered. It didn’t sound as bad as I would’ve thought. It only sounded uncertain. But the more I gave myself to it, the smoother the melody carried. The same melody Mary had played. It was alive in me.

Once I finished, I felt refreshed. Energized. Charles and Adrian were staring.

“What was that?” Charles asked.

“I—I don’t know.”

Adrian nodded his approval. “Perhaps that song had been your calling. Many humans called to become elementals have one. Though I must say it’s strange yours would be the violin.”

“Why?”

Adrian frowned and shook his head. “Let’s not concern ourselves with this right now. It would make no difference to what lies ahead.”

Something felt off about his tone, but I knew trying to push more information from Adrian would be a waste. I shrugged it off. I didn’t know what the song was. I’d never played before—not in this lifetime—but a new passion ignited within me. Now all I needed to do was control the energy.

Thinking it would probably be best to work with something sturdier than a pencil, I grabbed a pen from the kitchen junk drawer and, this time, focused with a destination in mind: moving the pen from the ground to the table. The pen hovered for a moment before falling.

It was Ivory’s words to Abigail that finally helped:
Believe in this
. With new determination, I tried again. This time the pen floated up from the floor and over to the table, my energy bleeding out as I lowered it to the table’s surface. It dropped the last inch, rolled a tiny bit, and came to a stop.

Excitement drummed inside me.
I
can
do this
. It was totally unreal, thrilling, and terrifying all at the same time. I wished I could bask in my amazement, but reality crept back in—the
why
of my learning to use this skill. The knowing I’d only come to access this power because I’d stolen memories from a friend who tried to kill my boyfriend and that I had to use it because I needed to save my boyfriend’s family from being murdered.

For the next hour, I worked until I was too drained to try any more. It was already ten, the last three hours like a small eternity of their own.

I needed a break. And a chance to say goodbye to Lauren, before it was too late.

WHEN I ARRIVED AT LAUREN’S, she was sitting on her front porch beneath the overhang, the porch light revealing her thick black hair tied back in a silken ponytail. We’d sat together on each other’s front porches many times before, but, right now, we might as well have been strangers. There was no place for me in her world, not anymore.

I plopped down beside her, staring at the small apartment complex across the street. Clouds hovered low in the sky above, heavy with unspent rain. Moisture thickened the air, and the pressure weighed on my bones.

Lauren nudged her shoulder into mine. “Everything okay?”

A painful sensation knotted in the back of my throat. “Isn’t it funny how cardinals don’t fly south? Colorado gets pretty cold, and they’re so small.”

“Oh, Sophia,” she said. “I’m sorry. I know you two were friends.”

“Who?”

“Ivory,” she said. “She told me last night she was moving. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Last night?” Ivory couldn’t have told her last night.

Lauren opened her hands and splayed her fingers. “She left a letter in my mailbox. I just assumed she’d told you.”

Ah. Paloma was covering her bases. “I haven’t checked my mail today. That must be why I didn’t know.”

Way to sound upset, Sophia
.

“Things won’t be the same without her,” I added, trying to sound sincere. Unfortunately, the inflection didn’t reach my tone. “Did she say why she left?”

Lauren shrugged. “Said she had a job offer in Boston and that she hated to leave like this, but she had to catch the first plane out and didn’t want to wake me. I’m surprised she even bothered to tell me. She hasn’t been much of a friend.”

I fidgeted with my charm bracelet, focusing on the small violin charm. “Neither have I.”

Lauren smiled. “Of course you have.”

“No,” I said. “I haven’t.”

My voice sounded shakier than I would have liked. How would she react to the news? She didn’t care Ivory had left, but that was only because they’d never gotten along.

The lines in Lauren’s forehead deepened. “What’s wrong?”

“The thing is—” I watched her expression carefully. “—we’re moving.”

Lauren shook her head. “You can’t.”

“We’re helping Charles’ family with renovations.”

Lauren didn’t look at me—just pressed her hands hard against the whitewashed planks of her porch steps. “I thought they lived in Japan?”

“You can visit anytime,” I said, as though a Band-Aid would be enough. “We’ll cover the airfare. Maybe visit your relatives while you’re there?”

“Sounds great,” Lauren said, but her voice said it wasn’t. Then, after a long moment, she lifted her gaze to mine, giving me a dark, silent glare. “To be honest, Sophia, this sucks.”

You have no idea.

Maybe I was imagining the sudden silence. The abrupt cessation of night birds singing, wind rustling in the trees, and small animals scampering about.

Lauren tucked up one knee and started peeling the aglet off one of her shoelaces. “When are you leaving?”

I lowered my voice, as if she might not hear me and we could somehow skip this part of the conversation. “Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow? Damn it, Sophia. This is almost as bad as what Ivory did.” She sighed heavily, flicking away the torn piece of aglet from her shoe. “What’s wrong with Charles’ parents again?”

“They’re putting a new addition on their house. Charles offered to help.” Not the best lie, but I needed to tell her something. “Earthquake damage, or something, I think.”

“So you’ll only be gone for a little while.”

“It’s a big addition.”

“You aren’t telling me something.”

I frowned, thinking she might believe me if I looked hurt by her assumption. It was low, but I didn’t know what else to do. I
couldn’t
tell her the truth. “Why would I keep anything from you?”

“It’s fine. Go. Have a good time.”

“Lauren?”

Her eyes were getting puffy, and she dabbed them with the inside wrist of her shirtsleeve. It only made her eyes redder.

“I’m going to visit,” she said. “I’m just upset, okay?”

She smiled through her tears, and that was what killed me: It was her usual smile, one I’d always thought of as real, and now I wondered how much hurt might have always been hiding beneath it.

Lauren insisted on coming back to Charles’ house to help clear out the things we couldn’t bring with us or leave behind. She even agreed to watch after Red.

Around eleven o’clock, we said our goodbyes. I took a mental snapshot of her standing beneath the porch light outside my front door: Lauren in a tweed, knee-length coat. Lauren in dark blue jeans. Lauren in black rain boots with white polka dots, her skin splotchy and her make-up running.

She turned, cage in hand, and walked away.

***

ADRIAN WAS ALREADY GONE, probably out tying up his own loose ends. Charles looked up at me from the couch.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

“No.” I hung my scarf and jacket on the coat rack, kicked my boots in the corner by the door, and stalked into our room.

Charles followed. I could hear him standing behind me in the doorway, feel the sympathy radiating from his body. I stared out the window. The first drops of rain splattered against the windowpanes and beaded together to trail like small veins over the glass.

Charles walked over and placed his hand on my shoulder. Immediately, I caved, turning toward him, and he folded me into his arms.

I buried my face against his chest. I’d lost a lot of people in my life, but this was my first time saying goodbye. My emotions crashed through me. I’d never gotten to say goodbye to my mom, to my dad.

Charles breathed into my hair, and I sighed heavily. I needed to let go of my past.
Really
let go.

“I’m terrified of what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

Charles nodded. “You don’t have to do this.”

Didn’t I, though? I needed to set aside my need for acceptance from others and worry about accepting myself, my damned ‘gift’ included. And the only way to do that was to use my abilities for something meaningful. Like standing up to the Maltorim and their prejudices against dual-breeds.

I looked up into Charles’ piercing gaze. “I do have to do this,” I said. “I absolutely do.”

I stepped away from him, determined to focus on something else. I still needed to work on my gift. The stronger I was, the better our chances of rescuing his parents. I sat on the edge of the bed, peeled off my socks, and grounded my feet on the carpet. I centered my energy on a small book resting on the birdcage table near the bedroom door. It thudded immediately to the floor, creating a tent of crushed pages.

I growled under my breath. How was I supposed to be strong enough in time to face the Maltorim if I couldn’t move a stupid book?

Rubbing my hand over my face, I crouched down, but Charles beat me to it, his gaze burning into mine. He set the book on the table, the intensity of his gaze dissolving my barriers.

I walked over to the bedroom window and looked out to the yard. Empty.

Moments later, Charles walked up behind me and wrapped one arm around my waist. He swept the hair from my neck and pressed a kiss against my pulse.

“Take a break. You have all night.” He punctuated his words with a soft nibble.

I tried to tamp down the arousal his lips created as they tickled against the fine hairs on my neck. Useless effort, that.

“I don’t have all night,” I said, my words shielding my desires. “I need to sleep.”

“Sleep on the plane.”

I turned toward him, closing my eyes as his hands massaged my neck, his grip slowly loosening as he moved down the planes of my back. My concerns ebbed at his gentle touch, and I sighed, tilting my face toward his. I wanted his lips pressed against mine—wanted to connect with something other than the pain and fear gripping my heart.

“I’m always here for you,” he whispered, each word relaxing another nerve in my body.

“I want to be there for you, too.”

I kissed his shoulder, and when I lifted my gaze, his lips captured mine. I couldn’t refuse myself this one good feeling—this one escape, these last quiet moments we would spend together.

All this time, I’d battled over whether I should or shouldn’t let myself fall in love with him. As though that were something I could control. I’d worried whether it was ‘smart’ to be in a relationship with an immortal man, knowing we likely had no future together.

Charles, on the other hand, had none of these concerns. For him, it’d always been about my safety. He’d held back in fear of breaking my heart, or perhaps allowing me to break my own. Now I knew we
were
strong enough to overcome the immortality issue. How, I wasn’t sure, but I would no longer allow that to stand in the way.

Charles’ hands skimmed up my back, dragging my shirt over my head and breaking our kiss. I watched intently as he pulled off his own shirt, revealing his hard, smooth chest. He stepped closer, pressing my back against the wall, the warmth of his chest against mine intoxicating, my want for him flowing through my veins like a drug.

His fingertips traced along my collarbone, his lips trailing behind as he slipped his finger beneath my bra strap and slid it off my shoulder, the heat between my thighs intensifying with each brush of his lips. Slowly, my worries melted away. He dropped my bra to the floor, and I pushed it aside with my toes.

As I unfastened his jeans, one button at a time, a strong mix of love and lust radiated from him, and I eased away from the wall, stepping closer. He was staring at me with an intensity that was new even for him, his gaze sweeping over my bare skin—skin that felt flushed with desire.