Arianna Rose: The Gathering (Part 3) (18 page)

Arianna gasped for breath several times.  She felt her ribs ache and her lungs burn, frantically clinging to meager threads of air slipping down a collapsing windpipe.  Although rationally, she knew she sat on her bed, out of harm’s way for the moment, her body responded as if she were experiencing it in that moment.  She released her legs and tugged at the collar of her shirt before frantically tearing her clothes from her body. 

She yanked her shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor then began pulling her jeans down past her hips to her knees before kicking them off, too.  She stood, stripped down to her underwear and bra, and still felt as if her entire body were being compressed by a powerful, unseen force. 

She raced to the bathroom and turned the shower on full-blast.  She shrugged out of her bra and slid her underwear down her legs and stepped into the stall.  Warm water cascaded down her body, but did little to combat the chill she felt.  She turned the dial farther to the left and stood beneath a stream that was as hot as she could possibly bear.  The chill began to subside, as did the feeling of being crushed, but only marginally.  Both still lingered to some extent and made her insides quiver.  She closed her eyes and tried to picture a calming image and immediately, the meadow Desmond had sifted her to the night she and Stephanie had almost been raped entered her thoughts.  She squeezed her eyes tightly, willing the brilliant blooms to present themselves, but they did not. 

Other, entirely foreign
images, flashed in her mind’s eye.  A man with silver hair and a matching silver beard appeared first.  She’d never seen him before, yet there was something achingly familiar about him.  She tried to cling to his features, to discern where she’d seen them before, but he was quickly replaced by inky blackness.  Darkness so deep and cavernous it felt as though she could reach out and touch it stretched before her and sent her pulse racing feverishly.  Then in an instant, the blackness evaporated and bright white light replaced it, blinding her temporarily.  The effect was dizzying, the high-intensity flashing pulsing through her brain.  She rubbed her eyes vigorously, the pain from the glare rocketing through their sockets with a force so great it nearly knocked her off her feet.  Within seconds, however, the glare was eclipsed by a hideous creature, its wide mouth and dangerously sharp teeth hovering over her, poised to clamp its massive jaw around her neck.  Her eyes snapped open and her heart thundered over the spray of the shower.  She reached with a trembling hand and turned the water off then pulled her towel from the rack.  She wound it around her body and clutched her torso.

The squeezing sensation had left her, and so did the weight she’d felt in her chest.  All that remained was the hellacious image of a beast befitting a gatekeeper of the underworld.

She knew it had been a nightmare, knew she’d simply remembered a terrifyingly vivid dream, but could not shake the feeling that there was truth to it.  Warning raced through the center of her being and raised goose bumps on her flesh.  She wished she had time to focus on it, but had another pressing matter awaiting her: school. 

With every moment that ticked
by, she was delaying the inevitable.  She had to go to school.  The weekend had yet to arrive.  She had two more days of classes before she would have two days to hole up and truly deal with the night she’d had.  The thought of ever laying eyes on Scott, Jess, Meg, Paul, Josh, Chris and George made her feel as if she’d be ill.  Especially since she now knew that George could suppress her powers.  He was particularly dangerous to her, more so than the others.  With him around, she was defenseless.  And she’d seen what Scott and the others did to those who were defenseless. 

Her body shuddered involuntarily, the idea of being manipulated against her will so
despicable it physically shook her.  She did not know what to do, what they’d expect of her or how they’d act around her.  Would they harm her, or would they expect her to fall into step with them and their behavior?  Did they know that she was the Sola?  She wondered.  So many questions needed to be answered.  The few that popped into her mind did not even begin to scratch the surface of a seemingly impenetrable fortress of uncertainties. Desmond would know the answers, she was sure of it.  He would know what to do.  But he’d refused to appear when she’d begged him to in the woods.  Apparently, he had not been sincere when he’d promised her he’d always come when she called him.  He’d lied. He’d humiliated her and lied to her. 

Her hand went to her heart reflexively, as if trying to repair its fractured pieces.  She wished to feel the frothy wisps of comfort that caressed her very core each time he’d held her, feel his warmth.  But a voice inside of her cautioned she would never feel either again.

A tear slipped down her cheek and she brushed it with the back of her hand.  She’d never been one to pity herself, but the odds were continually stacked against her, a fact she could no longer ignore.  She had lost her mother, Lily, the only friend she’d ever had, Luke, and now Desmond.  Desmond was not dead, but was gone, nevertheless, and all because of some godforsaken prophecy.  All of them gone because she was the Sola. 

She hated that she’d driven everyone away, and that hatred awakened feelings George was not around to suppress. 
Her hands balled in fists at her sides and she felt a swell of pure power surge through her veins, familiar and not entirely unpleasant.  The dark part of her was present.  She felt her fingertips tingle, charged and capable.   She concentrated on the wastepaper basket in the corner of the bathroom and flicked her wrist.  The basket overturned and a thrill of delight fluttered in her belly. She spun, still wearing only her towel, and flipped her wrist again.  The bathroom door opened wide and she stepped back into her bedroom.  Every part of her smarted, throbbing and aching with loss and loneliness, and using her powers felt good, natural.  She glimpsed her pack of cigarettes peeking from her purse and decided to try something new, something she’d never attempted before.  She straightened her index finger, aiming it at the small box then curved it back toward her several times.  As she did, the box was coaxed slowly from her bag.  She bent it more quickly, and the movement of the box matched the pace of her finger.  A slow smile spread across her lips and she guided the box toward her.  It floated in midair, gliding until it hovered before her other open and waiting hand.

After several other feats
that included sweeping her hands to one side and opening both her closet and the curtains, Arianna found herself feeling enervated.  She slumped to the bed.  Her powers had distracted her and entertained her for a little while, but did not fill the void created by loss.

A glance at the clock on her nightstand saddened her further as it was just about time for her to leave for school.  She dressed and ate then dashed out the door.

She smoked two cigarettes during the car ride, yet still did not feel calmed.  She wanted to hurt Scott and the others, but George first.  His power was the only thing standing between Scott and justice,
her justice
.  She needed to find a way to isolate him, catch him off guard and attack before he managed to summon his blocking power.  She needed time to think.  But as she pulled in to a parking space and saw Jess pull in beside her, she knew she would not be given any time whatsoever. 

Arianna turned her head to look at Jess.  Jess smiled pleasantly, as if nothing had happened, and waved.

“Is she for real?” Arianna muttered to herself.  “Yeah, hi there, I see you, you violent psychopath,” she said and waved back, her words protected by the closed windows.

Jess, encouraged by Arianna’s gesture, jumped out of her car and smiled as she peered in the passenger side window.  She knocked on the glass lightly and Arianna lowered the window, wondering what the hell the vicious nutbag could possibly want to say to her.

“Hey Arianna!” Jess said excitedly and Arianna felt her stomach churn.  “Glad you made it today.  I was so worried about you.”

Arianna did not reply verbally.  Instead, she leveled a stony stare at Jess and revived the old
fuck you
expression she’d always worn across her features. 

Jess looked taken aback, hurt even, and Arianna had to struggle to keep from laughing at the absurdity of the situation.  Jess actually looked wounded that Arianna was not greeting her with a, “Hey there, bestie! So glad to see you after you manipulated a bunch of innocent teenagers into getting murdered!” 
Jess was clearly out of her mind.  She pictured Jess’ face from the night before, the twisted look of pleasure she wore as she watched Sarah, used like a tool by Scott, bash the skulls of three teenagers before being forced to take her own life.  The memory set her afire.

A fierce jolt of energy racked Arianna’s body and she began to tremble.  Power swelled unexpectedly, building strength with every second that passed.  Her vision immediately became shrouded
in crimson. 
Kill, kill!
The words whispered through her brain.  They demanded vengeance.  They demanded Jess’ death.  Her muscles began to bunch and strain, tensing for a tidal wave of energy.  Fury shook her body and the urge to end Jess passed through her with every tremor, vibrating and echoing through her core.  Searing rage throbbed through her veins like fiery lifeblood.  She focused all her wrath on Jess and watched as a thin rivulet of blood began to trickle from Jess’ nose. 

She was about to launch the heft of h
er might at her when a tapping on the driver’s side window triggered a tug on her energy so strong she nearly fainted.  She spun in her seat and saw George’s expressionless face filling it.

“Oh thank god you’re here,” Jess breathed dramatically as she blotted her no
se with a tissue she’d pulled from her purse.  “Our girl here was about to try something.”

Arianna was about to ret
ort, but agonizing pain exploded at the back of her head.  She closed her eyes against it and small bursts of light appeared behind her eyelids. 
George
, she thought bitterly.  Him slamming the breaks on her powers as suddenly as he had produced a headache similar to a migraine.

Knocking from the driver’s side window sounded again, only louder.  Arianna opened her eyes and saw Scott’s smug face smiling at her.

“Roll down the window,” he shouted.

Arianna shook her head.

“C’mon Arianna, enough pouting!  I told you last night, we have George here,” he called out.

Arianna decided to lower the window, if for no other reason than to quiet Scott. 

“There you go.  Was that so hard?” he said acidly.

“Screw you,” Arianna said through her teeth.

“Oh, Arianna, and here I thought you and I would have something special,” he said with feigned hurt.

She stuck up her middle finger at him and began gathering her books from the front seat.  She refused to be pushed around by a ragtag group of teenage witches and warlocks.  They could suppress her powers
with George around, but they would not always be together, and they would not always have George around to hold her back.  She would get to them, one by one, and when she did, their smug faces and condescending tones would be silenced.  She was the Sola, the most powerful witch on the planet, whether they knew it or not.  Surely, she could handle them.  All she needed to do was figure out how to tap into her power fully, as Desmond had told her she’d be able to someday. 

She no longer had time to wait for “someday,” though; “someday” had come,
now
.  She needed the full potency of her power to keep George from suppressing her.  She’d only been in Hallowed Hills for a few days, and already she was sick of being pushed around by Scott and the others.  The only reason they’d been able to was because of George.  George needed to go, sooner rather than later. 

Arianna pushed her car door open, shoving it hard into Scott and George’s legs.

“Move,” she said flatly.

“Oh wow,” Jess commented.  “I gotta hand it to her, she’s ballsy.  I kind of like it.”

Scott pursed his lips then slid the sunglasses perched on his head down over his eyes.  He raised both eyebrows above the rims of his shades and huffed, “Yes, well, let’s see how long it is before ballsy becomes boring,” then strutted toward the front door of the school. 

George lingered a moment longer and stared at her, his dead eyes and blank expression crawling over her skin like the legs of innumerable spiders.

“Oh and Arianna, one more thing,” Scott turned and called out to her unexpectedly.  “I will see you at my house tonight.”  He dropped his glasses to the tip of his nose and glared at her over the rim of them. “And I will
not
take no for an answer.”  His tone was confident as always, and threatening.  Arianna’s own confidence faltered for a split second and she began to question whether she would, in fact, be able to handle them as she’d hoped earlier.

“You have no idea who we are, how powerful we are,” George warned her in his monotone voice, and though his tone had not held the slightest inflection, the fine hairs on her body rose.

“Come on, George,” Jess called him and finally broke the hold he had on Arianna.

Arianna felt like vomiting and wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into by rashly heeding the call to Hallowed Hills and rushing there.  She looked over her shoulder to see if any of Scott
’s other flunkies were approaching and found that a pair of eyes did, indeed, watch her.  Beth’s heavily lined eyes watched her closely with her blue-black stained lips pressed to a hard line.  In the harsh light of morning, Beth, whose tiny frame was clad from head-to-toe in black, looked frail, but Arianna swore that if she made another lesbian comment, she would punch her in her petite head without thinking.  She had nothing against lesbians, but did not appreciate assumptions of any kind being made about her, especially now, not with a group of her own kind prepared and possibly poised to strike against her.