Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel) (22 page)

“You need something?” Attic asked, going into the bathroom.

“No, I’m good.” I flicked off the light and wiggled out of my jeans. The T-shirt I wore was long enough, it’d do as a nigh
t-shirt.

A square of light stretched across the floor as Attic came out of the bathroom. “There’s only one toothbrush.”

“No worries. I can use my finger,” I said.

Attic ran an eye over me as I stepped into the square of light. I blushed and held the T-shirt down as far as I could on the right so it covered the scar on my thigh. A sudden wave of warmth washed toward me when I hobbled past him. Attic gripped my elbow. “You don’t need to hide your scar. It’s part of you. And you’re beautiful.”

I exhaled slowly and let go of my T. I wanted him to run his finger over it like he had before Twirp. I bit my tongue. I had to stop thinking like that. “Why doesn’t the scar disappear? All my other injuries do.” I traced the scar under Attic’s ear. Why had I never wondered that before?

Attic shivered at my touch and I drew away. “All Guardians are left with a reminder of their humanity—a reminder of our place—so we don’t start thinking we’re Angels. The scar comes from your human life.”

My mood darkened. I shut the door behind me and washed my face. I was so confused. Was I doing the right thing not becoming a Guardian?
My family. My friends.

I picked up the toothpaste and spread some on my finger. The little collapsible toothbrush Attic had used lay on the shelf under the mirror. Without thinking I picked it up and smeared the paste from my finger onto the bristles. I imagined him kissing me as I brushed my teeth, the way his tongue searched my mouth with such passion. I hoped that Attic would leave me just one memory of him. Something I’d think had been an amazing dream.

I slunk back into the room and into bed. In the darkness, I could make out Attic slouched on the armchair. “Attic, there is something I need.”

“What’s that, Lark?”

“I need you to come to bed.” I held my breath, waiting for his reply.

“Good. This armchair is stone hard.” I heard the covers rustle as he slithered under them.

“Closer,” I demanded. “You’ll fall off the bed.”

Attic rolled into the middle. His voice was silky. “Was that the only reason?”

I gulped. No, it wasn’t.

Attic shuffled closer, his face close enough to mine that I could see it. “You smell like honeysuckle, like you did when we kissed,” he said.

“And you smell like spring rain.” Irresistible.

“Do you want me closer?” Attic asked.

His bare leg brushed over mine and I gasped. My body throbbed for him to be nearer, but I couldn’t say anything.

“Why are you afraid?” Attic said. “It’s okay, don’t get me wrong, but why?”

He certainly could read me well. My voice came out an irritated whisper. “I’m not afraid.” I laid a trembling hand on Attic’s bicep and made out his smile.

“I listened to all those cries of disgust in your head as you ate that vile pasta with a smile on your face. And just like then, you’re being stubborn. Why aren’t you honest with me?”

Because it’s too embarrassing.

As if he’d got past my mental shield, Attic said, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting someone. You should take pleasure in physical contact. Every single day I’ve been with you I’ve wanted to grab you, kiss you, touch you, Lark, and I’m not ashamed of saying that.”

“You’ve been with so many other girls before,” I said. “You’re more experienced. It’s intimidating.”

Attic laughed sweetly. “I’ve never been with anyone before that I was in love with.” My chest filled with joy, and I felt the bubbling urge to say it back. Attic paused for a long moment. “I really want you, it burns me being this close to you, but—”

His words ignited my blood. I lunged to Attic, pressing my lips against his. When I felt him tremble, I kissed him more deeply, pinning his arms above him so I had full access to his face. I locked my legs between his and shots of electricity buzzed through me. I levied myself on top of him, but Attic whipped his hands free and rolled me onto my back so his weight was on me.

“Sweets,” he said, “you’re so beautiful. You have no idea how much I want to continue, but I can’t.” He removed himself so he lay next to me, on his side.

“Why not?” I said, my heart still racing.

“Because your first time should be special. Not when there’s so much grief inside of you. And you should always remember it, which would be impossible for you.” He kissed the tip of my nose.

There was nothing I could say. I curled up into his side and pecked his shoulder. I felt indescribably sad, and thankful. Attic was right. I just wished there was some way to be with him and have my family back. I sighed. “Good night, Attic.”

He found my hand, linked his fingers through mine and squeezed. “Night, Lark.”

I convinced Attic to give me directions and let me drive the first stretch. I was nervous about spending so much time with him and I thought driving would give me something to concentrate on.

But it surprised me just how comfortable and normal things were between us. Like talking last night had only brought us closer. Crap, I really liked being around him, this wasn’t going to make it any easier saying goodbye.

I turned on the radio.
Light my Fire
by The Doors blasted through the speakers. I tapped on the steering wheel as I sang with it. Attic stared at me with a mischievous grin. I turned down the volume. “What?”

“You singing those lyrics is way a turn on.”

I slapped his knee and laughed. “Stop that.” I listened to the next verse. The words, strangely apt for our situation, got my Vein pumping again. Before the car started smelling of honeysuckle, I slammed my finger on the off button.

Attic chuckled. “Move into the right lane. We’re taking the next exit.”

I looked at the sign. “We’re going to Canada?” My voice had a high-pitched quality to it I hadn’t anticipated. I coughed and repeated the question two octaves lower.

Attic laughed, but before he could answer his cell tweeted.

“What’s your ring tone?” I asked, “I like it.”

He pulled it from the shoulder bag on the floor at his feet. “It’s a lark singing.” He answered it. “Yeah? All right, be there soon.” He clapped the phone shut. “If I tell you where we’re going will you continue? Albelin needs me, says it’s urgent. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I know how to drive and can look after myself. No need to worry about me, take your time.” Attic’s frown told me he’d do just the opposite. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay, you’re going to Canada—Toronto—it’s not too much further. You’ve a passport in the glove compartment. Ask for directions to the Museum of Modern Art. If I don’t meet you before, I’ll see you inside.”

Modern art? “You surprise me more and more every day,” I said, but he’d already left.

I followed his instructions and arrived in Toronto mid-morning. I wound down my window and asked a pedestrian for further directions. It was super cold outside. Once I found a park, I reached over to my bag on the backseat and rummaged for a jacket. My fingers caught on something metal. I already knew what it was, but I pulled it out anyway.

Maddy’s locket.

I gripped it in my palm and forced the tears down. My throat swelled and it hurt to swallow. Tomorrow I’d say my final goodbyes.

As I opened the door, I caught sight of Attic’s shoulder bag lying in the car. Had he forgotten to take it with him? Or didn’t it matter?

Curious, I reached over and pulled it onto the passenger seat. Inside was a wallet, a notebook labeled ‘Outbreak record’, and his soft turquoise hoodie. Shiny paper jutted out of his wallet and I pulled it out.

I gasped, my insides swirling, making me feel light headed and out of sync with my body. Attic had the picture of me laughing. With shaky hands I slipped the picture back. The sides had been cropped to fit his wallet.

Weird sensations filled me as I got out of the car. They calmed slightly as the cold bit into my fingers and sent me trotting. My breath made a fog cloud and it smelled like snow. Warmth fluttered toward me as I entered the museum, and I shuddered the chill away. The lady at the counter smiled, showing me a set of perfect teeth. She handed me a ticket and map and pointed to a large door. “The exhibition is that way.”

“Thanks. What is it?” I asked.

“Street impressions of Heaven.” This was what Attic wanted to show me?

I heaved the door open and slipped inside. Color momentarily blinded me. Wow. Snaked around the football field-sized room stood concrete walls covered in graffiti.

I trailed down the path. Each image dazzled me, the use of color somehow hypnotic. I stopped in front of one as bright as the sun. Block letters spelling words of wonder, wound in a tight spiral. The larger it got, the more vibrant the colors became. One step forward and I was sure it would beam me up to heaven.

I raised my hand toward it, then halted. A sweet rain scent rolled over me from behind. “Attic?” I turned to see him staring at me with a smile on his face. “Care to announce your presence next time?” I tried to sound annoyed, but judging at how my insides rocked violently when I saw him, I imagined my face glowed something wicked.

“Why would I do that, Lark?" He grinned. "I had a good perspective.”

I diverted the conversation to avoid flushing. “Was it a hard fight?”

“It wasn’t an Outbreak. Albelin had something to show me.” I wanted to know more, but before I could ask, Attic gestured to the walls. “What do you think?”

I smiled as I looked at the images surrounding us. “If Eirene is anything like this, it’s wonderful.”

“The Gate
s of Eirene alone are more beautiful than all these murals put together.” Attic sauntered down the path and I caught up to him.

“Why did you want to show me this?” I asked, stopping him.

He took my hand and squeezed, looking me in the eye. “I wanted you to know that Maddy will be fine. She’s in a good place.”

As I moved away and walked down the path, every new image hit me with its beauty. I held my breath.
Someplace like this—even more wonderful—is where Maddy is. Forever.

“It’s so peaceful,” I finally said.

Attic looked lovingly at a wall. “It makes me happy knowing Tanya’s there. I always want that for her.”

A little voice chirped inside my head.
It’s what you want for Maddy, too.

“I still hate the fact she died,” I said.

“They don’t contradict each other, Lark.” He pulled me into an embrace. “Just think about it.”

We arrived back in Foxtin early the next morning. I’d slept in the car, not wanting to stop anywhere. Today was Maddy’s funeral.

At the motel, Attic said he had something to take care of and I ran straight to Albelin. “How are they?” I asked. “Upset? Hurt? Angry? Shocked?”

Albelin placed a calm hand on my shoulder. “Marcus is still grieving, but will be fine. Jason seems to be handling everything quite well, considering the circumstances.”

“What’s going to happen to them?” Questions flew out of my mouth at light speed. “They won’t be able to go back to their families, will they?”