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Authors: Heather Crews

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BOOK: Unchanged
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In the foyer, he reached to open a pair of pocket doors, indistinguishable from the wall if someone didn't already know they were there. I peered into a parlor empty of furniture except for a dusty pink armchair that looked so worn and rickety it might have been left there by the house's last inhabitants. It probably had, unless some enterprising bums had lugged it in there.

"This part of the house burned in nineteen oh four," Ahaziel informed me blandly.

Did I only imagine I smelled smoke? "What caused the fire?" I asked.

"Carelessness." Without elaborating, he closed the doors and turned to me. "Would you like to see upstairs?"

"Okay."

The return-style staircase was steep and narrow, the straight hallway at the summit not much wider. There were four bedrooms in all, doors shut tight against secrets. We walked to the last room on the right, which overlooked the front yard.

The bare room looked as old and neglected as anything else in the house. I crossed the floorboards to peer out the windows and gazed across the hundreds of evergreens marching down the hill on which the house sat. To the right I could see a little patch of sea among the trees. The sky was eggplant-purple through gaps in the clouds. I couldn't see the car, or my friends. Maybe they were just out of my line of vision.

Or maybe they were in that version of reality I'd left behind the second I'd seen Ahaziel in the doorway.

A floorboard creaked behind me and I glanced over my shoulder. Ahaziel moved just inside the room, watching me. Pale light, beautiful and serene, lay transparent over his skin. Nobody at school would think him handsome, I realized. He was too different from the perfect, chiseled ideal—too strong, too strange, too unique. But to me, he was beautiful.

I offered a shaky smile. "Nice view."

"Yes."

"You . . ." I waved one arm in a general gesture, indicating the house. "You don't sleep
here
, do you?"

"No."

"Where, then? I mean, you must be staying somewhere."

"I don't need much sleep."

"Okay." I didn't know what else to say. I was trying to make conversation but he used every opportunity to squash my efforts with brief, cryptic answers. He wouldn't even tell me where he lived. For all I knew, he was just some weird guy who showed up in the forest and my school gym. Actually, that
was
all I knew.

"Okay," I said again. "You have to tell me what's going on."

He shook his head. "I won't."

I spun from the window and headed for the door. Ahaziel stepped aside to let me pass, but I felt dizzy and caught myself on the doorframe. The air seemed to shift in a strange way and it was heavy, too heavy . . .

Sleep.
It was hard for me to sleep, of course. How could I rest easily when I had to lie to myself day after day?

But at night I cannot lie to myself.

A floorboard creaked in the hall.

I'll close my eyes and feign sleep. Maybe this time he'll turn away . . .

The door swung open on silent hinges, though I would have sworn it was already open. Would he know I was awake? I saw his dreaded silhouette hovering in the doorway and I didn't dare move. He stood looking at me and after a moment I knew he wasn't going away. He never went away.

I know what is coming. Two years, nearly every night . . . It is inevitable.

I blinked and saw I was still supporting myself on the doorframe. Gradually regaining my senses, I glanced wildly around and wondered what had just happened. Ahaziel stood behind me as he had just a moment before. My breath came heavily, unevenly.

My voice was shaky as I said, "Ahaziel?"

The look on his face was, strangely, almost tender. "Yes?"

What? What did I want? What was I feeling? Cold and empty, just like the house. It was a cave, I was a cave, everything scooped out except emotion I couldn't understand. There wasn't anything here that belonged to me, nothing I could turn to for comfort. My eyes became hot, stinging with tears. I held them back but my insides felt shredded and a hole burned in my heart. I didn't want Ahaziel to see me cry. My throat was raw, my chest and stomach aching with the effort not to.

I had to leave this place.

I raised my eyes to look at him. His eyes flashed and a muscle in his jaw twitched, but his body remained as tightly controlled as ever.
He doesn't like me
, I reminded myself, blinking hard against fresh tears as I moved out the door. Blindly I made my way down the hall and the steep dark stairs, teetering back and forth between the walls as I struggled to maintain my balance. I paused on the bottom step to catch my breath.

I had to leave, but I had to figure out what was going on. Why I felt this way. Why I kept forgetting to ask Ahaziel questions that mattered.

"Lilly," he said from behind me.

"Leave me alone," I choked out.

Blackness clouded slowly into my vision. I gripped the banister in desperation. Something was wrong, something was very wrong . . . I felt my head detach from my body. My hand fell limply to my side. I tilted forward, my body crumpling, but arms caught me from behind. Before I lost consciousness, I felt my face press into his chest. I inhaled his foresty scent.

I'll stay here forever. I can't imagine why I ever wanted to leave.

Part II

(Eve)

The Lighthouse

 

December 1904

A gust of wind caught a corner of the blanket and threw it up in Eve's face. She batted it away and reached for the nearest rock to weigh it down. It was her eighteenth birthday and she refused to let the sudden, cold wind ruin her good mood. The sun was bright and made the air seem almost warm. And she was out of the house. These days there was nothing she liked better.

"Where has Jocelyn gotten off to?" Phillipa asked. "He's been gone so long."

Leah, who had been rummaging through the picnic basket, turned a sour expression on the other girl. "Keeping a leash on him?"

"
No
," said Phillipa.

"He's probably relieving himself," Leah said nonchalantly, enjoying Phillipa's blush.

With a smirk Eve rose to her feet, moving several steps away from the blanket. She turned and looked down the beach to the south. Two figures approached. Holding her hat down against the wind, she squinted at them. Both were tall and dressed in dark clothing, though the one on the right, the one walking nearer to the water, was slightly shorter and rather thin. That would be her brother Jocelyn. She didn't recognize the second figure and couldn't very well see him from this distance in any case.

Eve glanced behind her, where Leah and Phillipa were trying to hold down their skirts while keeping the blanket from blowing away. She stifled laughter and unthinkingly dropped her hand from her hat. Instantly the wind stole it from her head. It danced teasingly in the air for a moment, just out of reach, before falling to the damp sand and rolling away. She made a start for it but someone shot past her, running down the beach in pursuit. It was Jocelyn's new friend, she realized. He was hatless, his shining black hair at the mercy of the elements. Watching him, Eve didn't bother trying to shield her own hair. She had pinned it carefully that morning, but now escaped strands tickled her face and she knew protecting it was a useless endeavor in such wind.

She stood in place, watching the young man chase her hat, long-legged and sure. He ran easily, reaching the hat and snatching it up with fluid, confident grace. As he walked back toward her, however, he became stiffer and more . . . controlled. His movements were deliberate and precise as he brushed off the sand stuck to the hat. When he handed it to her he smiled, looking every bit the gallant gentleman, but no feeling reached his eyes.

"Thank you," Eve said, replacing the hat over her ruined hair. She smiled, trying to make up for the warmth this man seemed to lack. "I'm Eve, Jocelyn's sister."

"Pleasure to meet you," he said formally.

Eve stared at him, brows drawn together, trying to understand . . . something.
I knew you from before.
He stared back, unmoved. Why did he look as if he could willingly strangle her? Eve shifted uncomfortably, but then Jocelyn approached, all smiles and frivolity.

"Dear sister!" he cried. "This is Ahaziel, a recent acquaintance of mine. I invited him to join our picnic today, but . . ." Helplessly Jocelyn raised his eyes to the sky and shrugged.

"Ahaziel?" Eve said. She'd never heard such a strange name.

"He's Siuslaw. You're Siuslaw, aren't you?"

"Oh. Well, why don't we go to the caves?" Eve suggested before Ahaziel could respond. "The wind won't reach us there."

"But we have to climb to get there. It's murder on those rocks!"

"But the food will be wasted—"

"We can eat it at home just fine—"

"I'd like to see the caves," Ahaziel interjected. Both Eve and Jocelyn looked at him and he added, "If it is not too much trouble."

"I'd be glad to show you," Eve volunteered, finding herself frantic for this man to like her. Besides, she didn't feel like going home.

She smiled brightly and started down the beach, leaving Jocelyn to carry the goods and explain to the others the change of plans. Eve was well aware of Ahaziel at her back as she climbed the rocks, sure-footed but somewhat hampered by her long skirt.

Why do I feel as if I know him already?
she asked herself as they climbed.

They reached the first and most easily accessible of the caves well before the others, who lagged behind, laden with picnic supplies. Eve smiled again and opened her arms to indicate the shallow, sandy-floored cave. "Here it is," she announced.

"Charming," Ahaziel said. He stared at her, something smoldering in his eyes. Eve couldn't tell what he was thinking, but whatever it was, it made her blush.

"There are more beyond this one," she informed him desperately, gesturing to the north. "You have to keep climbing the rocks. Most of the other caves are connected, like a maze."

"How interesting."

Eve frowned, afraid to look at him directly. She didn't feel as if she impressed him, yet she wanted to so badly. If she was successful maybe he'd even marry her. Yes . . . They could marry and he could take her away from Victoria. He hadn't shown any signs of actually liking her, but she was confident she could win him over. And even though she'd just met him she knew he had to be better than—better than . . .

Well, he's
better, she decided firmly.

She glanced up to find him looking at her still, his expression unsettlingly steady and heated. "Er . . . how did you meet Jocelyn?" she asked politely, hoping her voice didn't quaver too much.

"In the woods outside the gambling hall," Ahaziel said. "He asked me not to tell you."

Eve's temper flared and she suddenly forgot her discomfort. "As if I care whether he gambles Esmond Havelock's money away. He could lose it all and I still wouldn't care! In fact, if I wasn't a girl I'd go there and lose it all myself!"

She stopped on an abrupt note, deeply embarrassed, and held her breath. Would Ahaziel comment on her outburst? Had she put him off? He didn't look any different, but still it was clear he wasn't impressed with her by any means.

Voices outside the cave reached Eve's ears seconds before her friends and brother appeared. She heard Phillipa squealing prettily and Jocelyn laughing at her. Leah was complaining about the climb. The three entered the cave, Jocelyn brandishing the picnic basket. Leah spread the blanket on the sand, her lips pursed with discontent.

Phillipa saw Ahaziel and smiled, her deep brown eyes kind. "Are you a friend of Jocelyn's?" she asked. "I do love meeting new people."

"My name is Ahaziel."

"He's Siuslaw," Jocelyn interjected. "Not many of them left around here. Smallpox, you know."

Ahaziel smiled quietly and gave a little bow to Phillipa. He even did the same when introduced to Leah. Eve wondered why he had not extended the same courtesy to her. Had Jocelyn said something unfavorable about her? She would have to question her brother thoroughly later. She would find out everything about Ahaziel.

"Let's eat now," Jocelyn said. "I'm absolutely starved."

They all sat down on the blanket. The wind roared past the cave opening but it never slipped inside. Phillipa opened the basket and passed around little sandwiches the housekeeper had prepared. Ahaziel quietly turned one down, which was just as well since there were only four. Eve watched him as she ate. She noticed how his eyes kept straying to the opening, out to the sea, though sometimes he would gaze stoically at her. To all he was very polite and considerate, a perfect gentleman.

But Eve thought maybe he wasn't a gentleman at all—his eyes gave him away. No one else seemed to notice, but she had been watching him carefully, covertly, taking note of his expression, and she felt certain his calm, controlled exterior concealed something volatile.

Though she had planned to dazzle him with whatever wit she could muster, she remained quiet the duration of the picnic, answering only briefly whenever anyone addressed her. Afterward, as they packed up and prepared to go home, she hated herself for not having made more of an effort with him. But when they walked back up the beach she heard him tell Jocelyn he would call in the morning. She would make sure she saw him then, and with any luck she would even be able to initiate a satisfying conversation.

BOOK: Unchanged
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ads

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