Telesa - The Covenant Keeper (57 page)

“Jason, stop it. You shouldn’t be cracking jokes at a time like this.” I was painfully aware of Daniel’s looming presence just outside the door and tried to pull my hand back. But Jason’s grip tightened. He raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. There was nothing but seriousness in his blue eyes as he spoke to me softly, excluding the entire room.

“I wasn’t joking. Leila, they tell me that I’ve been dying for the last three days. And trust me, I felt like it. But you know the one thing that kept me hanging on? The one thing I kept fighting for?”

Dumbly, I shook my head, battling tears. He continued, “You. And my promise to you.”

I shook my head, trying to cut him off, trying to stop the words before they couldn’t be unspoken. “Jason, no …”

“No, please, let me finish. Let a critically ill dude speak. Please?”

How could I argue with that? Especially since it was my fault he was lying there half dead anyway.

“Leila, you asked me to be your friend. And nothing else. And I am. But nearly dying does something to a person y’know? It makes him realize that life is short. And you have to grab at every moment, every happiness with both hands. Tight. And not let go. So, yes, I’m your friend, and I’m one hundred percent committed to helping you deal with your problem. But you gotta know, I’m in love with you.”

His words hit me with a hammer blow and I struggled for a way to make him take them back.

“Jason no, you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re sick. You need to rest. Listen to your nurses.”

But he would not be swayed from his declaration. “Leila, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life. I’ve loved you from that first night you bewitched me with your fake bimbo-ness. And then when I watched over you as you slept during that storm, then I was sure.”

And finally, with his declaration fully revealed, he was spent. A wave of exhaustion swept over him and he sank back into the pillows, closing his eyes. From behind me, I was dimly aware of Daniel slipping out of the room. The control-freak nurse chose that opportunity to jump in and shoo me away. “Out, out. He needs to sleep. All visitors must leave. NOW.”

I backed away from the bed. Blaine and Matthew followed me out. The two men were flushed with excitement and buzzing with plans to call and update Jason’s family.

“He looks like he’s gonna be okay. Isn’t that awesome, Leila? I thought for sure this was going to be his last night on earth.” Blaine shook his head in wonderment and I smiled weakly at him but all my breath was focused at Daniel who stood still in the corridor with nothing but blankness on his face. Staring at me. As if I was a stranger he had never met before.

The two men finally noticed him and their chatter died. We all stood in an uncomfortable silence for the briefest of moments before they both took off to Skype Jason’s dad the good news. Leaving me alone with Daniel. Who didn’t speak a word. Slowly, we walked back to the truck in the car park and still neither of us spoke. It was deserted, with only a few stray dogs sleeping in a huddle beside a rock wall. Daniel opened the passenger door for me but before I could climb in, he caught me still with his hand on mine. I stared up at him, trying to read him in the darkness, wishing he could read my heart and soul. And see his face imprinted there.

“So, the antidote worked.”

“Yeah, it seems like it.” I fought unsuccessfully to keep the joy from my voice. But it was impossible. Jason was alive. We had thwarted Nafanua’s crazy attack on him. I didn’t kill him. I wanted to scream it from the rooftops. But I didn’t want to hurt Daniel.

“I’m glad.” He spoke the words with simple sincerity. “I know he means a great deal to you.” He brought a hand up to cradle my face, looked me in the eyes and said again. “I’m glad.”

I was weak with relief. He wasn’t mad. “Really? Even though … umm …” I hated to say the words. So he said them for me. With a knowing grin.

“Even though the guy’s crazy in love with you? Yeah, I’m still glad the antidote worked. Now if he hadn’t been sitting on death’s doorstep? Let’s just say that I wouldn’t have been so patient about standing by and watching some genius Professor hold your hand and profess his love for you. Or kiss you. I might have given in to the temptation to smash him. Or something like that.” His dancing eyes laughed at me.

I winced at the thought, and Daniel responded by pulling me closer to him and wrapping his arms around me. All teasing was gone as he said, “Seriously? I don’t like it that Jason is in love with you. But he can help you in ways that I can’t. And he’s your friend.’ He paused and looked at me questioningly, “That is all he is, right? Unless you do, have other feelings for him?”

I hated the hint of doubt in his eye. I didn’t love Jason. At least not like that. Did I? My mind flashed back to the storm-filled night we had spent together. Jason half naked in Nafanua’s kitchen, resplendent in the firelight of my hands. How he had wanted to kiss me. And how I had wanted him to. NO! I slammed a door on my thoughts. I loved Daniel. He was looking at me, waiting for my response. Impulsively, I reached up and pulled his head down closer to mine and kissed him with every desperate emotion inspired by this rollercoaster twenty-four hours, trying to convey how much he meant to me. To show him that Jason really was only a friend. Trying to ignore the little voice inside that asked me,
who are you trying to convince here? Daniel? Or yourself?

Daniel kissed me back with a fierce urgency I had never felt before, one that had me struggling for balance. In one fluid motion, he lifted me up so that I was sitting perched on the car seat with my legs linked around his waist. His mouth left mine and I moaned in protest, but it was so that he could burn a pathway of kisses down the arched curve of my neck. His mouth whispered fiery secrets against the base of my throat, his hands slid one spaghetti strap of my tank top off one shoulder and then the other so he could kiss a trail of fire along my naked skin. My hands pushed away his shirt, hating anything that came between us, wishing I could incinerate the clothing that contained us both. But before I could act any further, Daniel pulled away, leaving me flushed and breathless.

“Daniel?”

“I’m sorry.” He gave me a rueful smile, carefully pulling my tank top straps back onto my shoulder, before disentangling himself from my embrace. “I ah … shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” He ruffled his fingers through his hair in that nervous gesture I knew so well.

“I’m not sorry.” I slipped off the seat and moved to take him in my arms again. He stood stiffly and did not hug me back. “I love you. All I want is to be with you. What’s wrong with that?”

An awkward shrug. “Nothing. But what I said back at the house? About respecting you enough to not put your virtue in question? I meant it. Just now, that – us getting carried away – it won’t happen again. I promise. I’ll be more careful. You can trust me. Okay?”

He waited for my response and seemed to think it would be a happy one, so I gave him a plastic smile and nodded. But inside I felt deflated as little bubbles of excitement fizzed and burst. I
wanted
him to get carried away with me. I
wanted
this to happen again and more of it. I
wanted
him to rip my clothes off and cover my entire body with his kisses. And here he was promising me that he never would?!
Great. Sure, that’s totally what I want. To be able to trust you to not get turned on when you’re with me. Thanks.

Unaware of my disappointment, Daniel continued, “We should get going. I need to take you home.” Without waiting for a reply, he unclasped my hands and went around to the driver’s seat. The drive home was quiet as we drove along empty streets. At home, Daniel opened my door and then stood and gazed down at me, his face unreadable. In the moonlight he looked tired. Drawn. But he tried to smile as he said, “Well, what a day huh? Nothing like almost getting fried by a psychotic weather witch to liven up your afternoon.”

I nodded glumly, my excitement at Jason’s recovery was subdued now as I had to face the reality of what would come next. Of wondering what Nafanua and the
telesa
would do next. “Daniel, what are we going to do now? I mean Jason’s going to be okay and the sooner Blaine and them get him transported back to the US and away from the
telesa
the better. But where does that leave everyone else?” I looked over his shoulder into the house where I knew Matile and Tuala would be waiting up for me, worrying about me. “How am I going to watch over them? And your grandmother? And you? What are we going to do?”

He quieted me with a quick hug. “I told you, everything will be okay. We’ve got tonight and tomorrow at least, until the
telesa
find out that Jason’s been healed. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. You need a good rest tonight – well what’s left of it anyway. I’m going to ask Mama for her advice. She’s the wisest person I know and she’ll help us find a way through this. Come round tomorrow, after church and we’ll deal with this. Okay?”

It was difficult not to be soothed when six feet and two hundred pounds worth of muscle had you secure in his arms. I shut my eyes and breathed in deeply of his scent, memorizing the feel of every rock hard curve and sinew, treasuring his closeness, this feeling. Like together we really could take on the
telesa
. And win.

He stood and watched me until I went in the house. And then from the window, I watched him drive away. Then and only then, did I go to explain wearily to Matile and Tuala why I was late – minus all the
telesa
bits of course. And once they were appeased, I tumbled into bed. Asleep before I could even remember that I was supposed to be scared. And worrying about a solution. A way out of this
telesa
nightmare.

* * * *

Daniel was right. Salamasina was a very wise woman and she probably would have been able to help us find a way to deal with the
telesa
. But our greatest mistake, which we would have much cause to bitterly regret, was thinking that we had time. To sleep. To talk. To plan. To prepare. To live.

Chapter Eighteen

The next day began like any other Sunday. Tuala snapping at Kolio about the slack way he made the umu. Again. And Matile hurrying me awake to go check the state of the flowers in the church. Again. Just in case some nutty flower thief had absconded with the floral arrangements during the night. And then it was rush back to the house and get dressed. With Tuala yelling at the dog to
Get out of the umu you stupid beast!
And Matile scolding him for being mean to her dog. Again.

But today I was grateful for the routine. The ordinariness of the day. It went a long way towards distracting me from the previous day’s horrors. In church, I secretly texted Blaine to check on Jason. And was thrilled to hear back that, yes, he was showing nothing but improvement. And the doctors had pronounced it safe for him to travel. And his parents were arriving that afternoon and would probably take him back with them on Monday night’s flight. I sang the final hymn with genuine gratitude and thanksgiving.
Aleluia!
Jason was alive. And by tomorrow he would be winging his way home to the States with his family and forever be safe from Nafanua and her sisters. The thought alone gave me hope that a similar solution could be found for me and Daniel. And all those we loved. Because it was true. I realized it as we drove home. As Tuala sang along with the radio and Matile groaned and rolled her eyes at him. And I hid a smile. I loved them both. In their home I had finally found the closest thing I had ever had to a family, the closest thing to regular parents.

After lunch, Matile refused my offers to help with the dishes, instead waving me away, “You go have a rest before your dinner with Salamasina and Daniel. You were up late at the hospital last night. Go, sleep. Your uncle and I are going to afternoon church and won’t be back until late. You will have the house to yourself. Sleep and enjoy the peace. We will see you when you get back from your dinner outing.”

In the bedroom, I sent a quick Sunday email update to Grandmother Folger. As usual, censoring out about ninety percent of my actual life here in Samoa. A wry grin as I pressed SEND. If she only knew the half of what was really happening here, the poor woman would probably have another stroke. And then send a team of Black Ops out to extract me. I checked my watch. Three o’clock. I had about an hour before it was time to go to Daniel’s. I hadn’t been planning on it, but Matile was right. I was tired. I grabbed myself a big glass of lemonade from the fridge before I went to the room. Drank. And slept.

* * * *

I awoke to a nightmare. Vision hazed, nausea threatened. I shook my head, trying to clear it of the cobwebs, the tangle of mist-laden vines that clogged it. I regretted it immediately. Another wave of nausea overwhelmed me and I leaned forward to retch. Jerking back as I swallowed water. I coughed and spluttered.

“Ugh.” A grimace at the sour taste in my mouth and I prepped for the possibility of another spew. It didn’t come. Instead, a knife-like pain cut through my head, jerking a moan from me before I could stop it. “Ow arrrgh.”

I tried to raise my hands to my head, but something held them captive behind me. I jerked against the restraint uselessly. Wet. Water. I was standing in salt water and tied to a post of some kind. The water was cold and stopped just at my chin. I looked around. It was a beach I didn’t recognize. A rocky shoreline jutted. The dim light didn’t give away many clues. Where was I? I could hear the ocean, feel it lapping around me. What had happened? My last memory was of downing a big glass
of Matile’s freshly squeezed lemonade, hoping its sweet coolness would help me sleep. Grimacing at the unusually bitter aftertaste. Then … nothing. No – wait. Blackness. But not before faces came into view. Smiling triumphantly. Nafanua. Sarona. The realization hit me. I had been drugged. The bitches had somehow laced my lemonade with something strong enough to knock me out so they could bring me here. Where was ‘here’? I strained at the bindings that held my arms at my back and the sound of my struggle brought voices.