Unfaithful (44 page)

“Is it the same for everyone?”

“From the first time we eat of the tree. Many of us don’t survive, but those who do are acknowledged—it’s as if a connection is created—and we begin to serve them. The Elders never intervene personally. They send us out instead to make sure each person on Earth meets the destiny that’s been ordained for him or her. No one has ever seen them—or more accurately, those who have didn’t survive long enough to tell the tale.”

My heart pounded harder as I realized I’d paved the way to finally asking the question I’d been harboring for some time, too terrified to hear the answer. “Simon?” My voice trembled as I said his name. “Why do you think I have to die?”

His eyes wavered, avoiding mine. “I can’t answer that.” For a moment, the silence drowned out every sound. “But there’s a reason for it. Nothing happens by chance.”

I stared at the floor, thinking about what he’d said. I honestly couldn’t imagine what good my death might do.

Simon interrupted my thoughts. “The Elders were chosen to maintain order, to determine who is to return. They’re the ones who make the decisions, but none of us know the reasons behind their choices.”

“What happens to the people who don’t redeem themselves, the ones who can’t return?”

I’d never seen Simon so serious before. The dim light cast a grim, mysterious halo on his face. “We don’t receive orders for them.”

“What happens to them?” I insisted.

“They become slaves.”

The darkness in his eyes made me shudder. A bitter instinct warned me not to travel further down that path because it led through a minefield. And yet there was another part of me, hidden somewhere deep inside and thirsty for more knowledge, that made me go on. “Why didn’t they find me before? All these months, what kept the Elders from finding out I wasn’t dead yet? Can’t they see everything?”

“No, they’re not omniscient. They send us out to make sure destiny has been fulfilled. We’re the arm of Death, the shadow of fate.”

“But who are
they
, exactly?” I hoped Simon would stop dodging the question and finally tell me.

Seeming to summon his courage, he looked at me. “They’re the Màsala,” he explained, his tone so serious it sent a shiver down my spine. “No one dares speak their name. It’s as if it’s forbidden among us: an unwritten rule. They’re the purest angels, members of the Order, a dark, secret brotherhood as old as the world itself. It might seem paradoxical, but they’re the messengers God uses as instruments to implement His plan, celestial creatures appointed by the Supreme Being to maintain order in the universe. Long ago they were called devas. Some call them
those first to come
and for others they’re the ancients or the elders. You humans call them archangels.”

I shivered. After all the bizarre experiences I’d been through over the last few months, it was strange to feel all this emotion at just one word. It was easy to pretend nothing existed, that the spiritual realm wasn’t real but just a figment of the human imagination built up over the centuries and handed down as law. God, archangels . . . Eden. But then, when reality finally hit you, no matter how insane or shocking it might seem, there was no denying it—all you could do was accept it and tremble.

Simon’s silhouette began to fade before I had the chance to figure out if it was him or if I was starting to fall asleep again. I lay down face up on the mattress. As my eyelids struggled to stay open I heard Simon’s smooth, gentle voice in my ears: “Now get some rest.”

My legs tangled in the sheets as I rolled over and a moan of pain escaped me. It felt like something was forcing my head down into the pillow.

“Finally!” Evan’s cheerful voice brought me back to reality, but all I could do was let out another moan. I glanced out the window, my eyes still half closed, but couldn’t understand if it was too early or too late.

“What time is it?” I grumbled, raising my torso slightly.

“Five in the afternoon.”

I shot bolt upright as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on me. Evan’s sweet eyes met mine and the walls of the room closed in around me, crushing me.

Suddenly I remembered everything. Evan noticed the change in my expression and misunderstood. “Did you have another nightmare?” he asked with concern.

I took a moment to answer. “I think so, but I’m not really sure any more.” Last night’s terrible dream—so distant now—had lost all importance in comparison with the real world, which would definitely be far more grueling.

“Gemma, is something the matter?”

His eyes probed mine again and I looked away. The devastating memory of yesterday throbbed in my temples. It felt as if the secret had taken shape inside me and was trying to get out with every heartbeat as I struggled to force it back down. It was a massive boulder between us, one that couldn’t elude Evan’s notice for much longer. I couldn’t hide the truth from him. I had to find a way to tell him everything.

He looked at me, puzzled, and I tried to pick up the conversation where we’d left off. “I must have dreamed something terrible.” Deep down it wasn’t a lie. I tightened my lips and stared down at my bare knees. I couldn’t even bring myself to look him in the eye.

“I’m sorry.” He caressed my cheek. When I felt his touch, I closed my eyes, tears stinging beneath my eyelids. After taking a deep breath I tried to speak but my voice trembled. Evan noticed and seemed to misunderstand yet again.

“This always happens when you’re gone,” I explained, referring to the nightmares. Actually, I couldn’t remember my dream any more except for a few fragments that were already fading. The real world was what frightened me the most now. The thought of Drake’s lips on mine and how Evan would react to the news was worse than any nightmare I could imagine.

When you love someone, you open up to them completely—you give them your heart and your entire being. You think you can tell them everything, no matter what, but it’s only when you discover how much the truth can hurt them that you realize how difficult it is to face it. But you have to do it all the same, because lies are huge boulders blocking the path that unites you—boulders destined to grow larger and which you’re bound to trip over. The larger they are, the smaller your chances of getting up and moving forward.

“How long have you been here?” I asked to distract him from the conclusions he must have been drawing. From the way he’d narrowed his eyes I could tell he realized something was wrong.

“A while.” He smiled again, boosting my spirits. “I took over for Simon at dawn.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I protested, embarrassed about having slept so late.

“I wanted to,” he admitted. “There were times when I couldn’t resist and came over to wake you, but then I went back and sat down again. You looked so tired,” he whispered, sitting on the bed and leaning toward me. His mouth brushed mine. “I missed you.”

I tensed, self-loathing filling me. The last lips on mine had been Drake’s.

No! I couldn’t react like this!
I couldn’t let this thing come between us. Not now, right when everything was going so well, not after making love with Evan.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispered, resting his forehead on mine, again misunderstanding my tension.

“I have a headache, that’s all.” I forced a smile as my heart pounded in anticipation of confessing everything. “Where are my parents? How come they didn’t wake me up for lunch?” I asked, so confused I couldn’t even remember what day it was.

“We convinced them you were eating at my place. They didn’t even notice you were still here.”

“
We
convinced them?” I asked with alarm.

Evan smiled. “Drake gave me a hand. Sometimes I can barely—”

My heart lurched. “Drake was here?” Aghast, I felt the blood drain from my face.

Evan frowned, disconcerted by my reaction.

“You should have woken me up,” I said sternly.

So they’d seen each other.

“You needed to rest,” he replied. “Yesterday was a tough day for you, Gemma. Too much happened.”

More than he could imagine, actually.

“Simon told me you’d had nightmares so I made sure you slept in soundly.”

I couldn’t object. My last few hours of sleep had been deep and dreamless. Forcing another smile, I tried to banish the thought of Drake from my mind, at least for a while. “So how many did you kill off last night?” I asked bluntly in an awkward attempt to normalize things, but even I was shocked by the bitterness of my sarcasm.

Evan frowned and I struggled to decipher his expression. He was right—this wasn’t like me. “S-sorry, it sounded funny in my mind and obviously it wasn’t.” Grimacing with regret, I nervously ran my hand through my hair. What was happening to me? Why was it so hard to utter the simple words that continued to scream inside my head?

“Feel like going for a drive?” I asked out of the blue. “I could use some fresh air.” Evan nodded, still bewildered.

I went to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and splashed scalding-hot water on my face. Still trembling, I clutched the rim of the sink. For a minute I stood there staring at my reflection, almost not recognizing myself. Then, resigned, I continued to wash up.

I had to find a way to make the weight in my stomach go away. I couldn’t bear to see the worried look on Evan’s face. Who knew what was going through his mind. I hated myself for never having learned to hide my emotions. If something made me happy or upset, trying to hide it was hopeless. Anyone could see it.

When I walked back into the bedroom, Evan’s expression relaxed and a roguish smile appeared on his face. All it took was one glimpse of his eyes to understand his intentions. I hadn’t gotten dressed yet. I raised an eyebrow and let the towel I was holding fall to the floor. My camisole matched my scarlet panties. Their lace edging was similar to the lace on the black panties I’d had on yesterday at the hideaway and aroused a dangerous look of interest in Evan’s eye. I’d never worn these before, but last night I’d almost instinctively searched for them in my underwear drawer, knowing Evan would be there when I woke up.

He watched me as though he’d forgotten the rest of the world, as though only I existed. Taking my hand, he pulled me gently against him, brushing a lock of hair from my face. “Sure you want to go for a drive?” he whispered, his dark eyes on mine.

I looked down again, unable to hold his gaze for more than a few seconds. “I—I think we’d better.” I pulled away, leaving him with his hand in midair at the height of my cheek. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his arm drop to his side and his expression turn blank. Our eyes met and I forced a smile.

“Does this have something to do with what happened between us yesterday?” His disappointed, hesitant tone floored me, hitting me straight in the heart. I blinked nervously. This couldn’t be happening. Evan had misunderstood in the worst possible way.

“No!” I exclaimed instantly. “What are you thinking?” I went and took his hand. What on earth was I doing? How could I let this terrible secret ruin this moment?

“What’s wrong, then?” he asked, exasperation in his voice. “You’re so strange today and—”

“You were right. Too much happened to me yesterday.” My voice broke on the last words. “More than you realize. You have no idea how I feel.”

“Shh,” Evan said, cutting me off and pulling me to him. He wrapped his arms around me again in an intimate embrace and I let myself be enveloped in his warmth. I could do it. I had to tell him. I’d finally found an opening to release the poison. I looked into his eyes . . . and sank back down into the pit. Why did this have to be so difficult?

“You can tell me about it later if you feel like it. Let’s get out of here.”

Part of me had yearned to hear him say just that. Somehow, putting it off was the most tempting solution, though I knew it would only prolong my torment.

“Feel like seeing what the others are up to?” Evan asked, behind the wheel of the BMW. Scenes from the nightmare suddenly reappeared distinctly in my mind, jumbled with images of reality. I shuddered at the thought of his Ferrari at the bottom of the lake.