Derive (4 page)

I furrowed my brow at his pause.

“Aden, I wish I could tell you otherwise, but Seneca is convinced your time will not arrive soon, but brashly.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning make the most of the time you have now. Make every second count.”

I gazed up at the blue sky, the stars I could see twinkling in the vast distance. “Logic tells me that any man can find falsehoods in his actions and change his ways, including my twin image. Logic tells me that I was not born to destroy. Logic even tells me that it is not I that will save or destroy my twin. It whispers that if we are connected, it is for reasons I can
’t fathom.”

“As I said, logic is your weapon. You have been so focused on this one point that you must resolve it before you can truly give yourself over to the balance of life.”

He vanished from my side, leaving those words to linger in the air.

For the first time, I willingly left my post and all but ran to my quarters. I wanted to change out of these sodden fatigues. I wanted to see her. I wanted to understand her.

For once, I was going to take my grandfather’s advice and planned to live in the moment.

Chapter Three

A long, hot shower, a clean shave, and a suit—no, I couldn’t do the suit. I tried. I really did. I saw too much of my grandfather’s regal stance in my reflection. I left the dark slacks on and tossed the jacket. I unbuttoned the top of the white shirt and rolled the sleeves up.

I wasn
’t dressed to court the angel I was determined to find, but at the very least I wasn’t wearing fatigues, looking like a brute warrior with only one focus. I brushed my fingers through my dark hair and stared forward at my reflection, finding it odd that just the thought of that girl brought a glint to my emerald eyes, that I didn’t look furious, or even somber. I had to understand why she had that effect on me, why I felt so vacant without her at my side.

I flung my bathroom door open and stopped short. Seneca was there. Her white hood was still down, but not quite as far. Her gaze started at my feet and rose to meet my eyes. Her eyes were a mix of lavender and blue. The lavender was always dominant when her gifts of seeing forward were in action, and lately they stayed lavender.

Seneca had a classic beauty, the kind that every artist tried to capture but failed, and it wasn’t because she was an Allurest, but because of the wisdom in her young eyes. If I had a friend outside of my pupils and warriors, it would be her.

Though our reality believes, knows, and understands that there is a divine soul and purpose meant for our existence, we still yearn to explore, we still begin relationships that we know are powered by lust and curiosity. We choose to explore life from a different vantage point. More than once, I had been down that troubled road. More than once, I sought some kind of release from my duties and dark, predicted future.

No one, including Seneca, saw a reason to stop me—that is, until not long ago. A drifter, a runaway who wanted to escape our world and find solace in the dark reality took up residence with The Selected. She tempted me, and though it felt wrong, I began an affair with her. Seneca stopped the relationship with a few whispered words.

Seneca told me, “She is not made of you, and she will destroy what is if you allow her within your arms.” The statement confused me because the earliest Allurest in my life led me to believe that my soul was shared with my dark twin, that I must destroy him before I ever found a way to even contemplate an eternal love with another soul. Those words gave me hope that the prophecy spoken over me was shallow, or at the very least misunderstood or misconstrued.

I sent the girl on her way after that.

Right now, my heart was thundering. I didn
’t want Seneca to tell me I was wrong about Sky, for her to tell me that this was a false awakening. I didn’t want to know if I was a fool.

Seneca slowly removed her hood, revealing her long blonde hair and the smile that seemed to consume her entire image.

“You’re pleased,” I said in a grating tone.

“I
’m pleased for the beginning I saw in your path has arrived.”

“How
’d the end turn out?” I asked as I tried to crack a smile.

“Well.”

I gave her a sharp nod because I had no words.

“It
’s the path between then and now that will trouble you.”

“Is she in danger, or is it my twin?”

Silence.

“Tell me something. There must be some words of direction you can find peace with giving me. Sky has completely enchanted me.”

Seneca stared endlessly at me before she spoke. “You must find enchantment with more than the idea of her, for your time is limited to seal this bond.”

The gripping sensation of dread seized me. “What have you seen?”

“My visions are from the outside in, from a position of distance; Sky’s are from the perspective that matters, that carries emotion.”

That might explain why Sky seemed so comfortable with me. Most seers bond with souls that are embedded in their lives on sight because they have no doubt those souls will be with them on their paths.

“Where did she come from?”

“A new soul.”

“That is improbable. She is too aware.”

“Yes, but one must question where that awareness was fortified.”

I only stared in response.

“A greater power has allowed her to see what is to be, to see you. You must understand that would have only happened if there was great risk that either you may never hold her, or that you will be unwillingly parted from her.”

Rage for my evil twin erupted in me. I found blame for that risk with him. Only him. He was the only reason I would ever have to physically cross The Fall.

“She will see you through the eyes of a lover found once more, and you will see her through the eyes of a new lover. You must bridge that gap with haste.”

“Or I must stop what will part us.”

No response. Seneca pulled her hood up once more. “She is in your sitting room.”

“Mine?” I questioned with wide eyes.

Seneca nearly smirked. “We gave her a room of her own, and she made a porthole to you.”

“A porthole.”

“Yes, quite curiously. It seems that in that glimpse of life with you in the future, she discovered powers she has not yet learned or understood. She created a path to you, and though she was pleased when she discovered where she was, it was clear that she was fearful as well of the power she has displayed. I do not know how long she will stay lucid of this future she has seen. As your friend, I am telling you to open your mind, heart, and soul this day, and any day you are given past this one, for there is absence before you.”

Seneca turned to leave. I stood speechless. I had known her for the better part of my existence, and that was the longest conversation we had ever had in one passing.

I felt an odd sensation in my gut. It took me a second to realize that I was nervous…I had never noticed or dwelled on that emotion before, and to say the least I didn
’t care for it.

My palms were sweating. My heart was thundering, and I had the hardest time remembering to take in air. I almost thought that I was infected, that I had somehow become ill and that speaking to Sky now would put her at risk, but then I understood what I was feeling. This infatuation. These butterflies. I had heard them mentioned as I gazed into The Fall. I had even heard those who have chosen to start their own family lines vaguely speak of such an emotion. Speaking of it and outwardly seeing the effects of the emotion were nothing compared to feeling them for the first time.

I had faced moments that would make most cower, but I had never been more afraid than the moment my feet began to carry me to my own sitting room.

Rat-a-tat-tat.
My sweaty palms played that rhythm on my thighs as I walked into the room.

Sky was standing by the vast window, framed perfectly in the oval view. Though her eyes had dimmed once more and were losing the crystal reflection of blue, the gleaming tint of The Fall accented her long, lavender hair. The gown she was placed in was ivory. The dress was well-fitted, and due to the shade of the silk it was hard to understand where her skin and gown were separated. I held in a sharp breath that threatened to erupt from my lungs as my sinful eyes raced across her, and the beat I was playing with my hands stopped.

She was a dream. A vision of every flattering emotion that you could feel about a woman. I felt my energy reach for her. I held it back, not wanting to frighten her.

Though she seemed far more confident than me, I could see her tremble ever so slightly as she seemed to breathe me in. I knew without a doubt if we were standing in a room with others, they wouldn
’t have noticed that break in her composure. I only noticed because I perceived everything about her.

I held out my arm, asking her to sit on the settee that lined the opposite wall.

As she went to move, she stumbled. I was at her side that instant, catching her before she even realized that she had toppled. I didn’t even take the time to think that her seeing me use my energy that way may have been more painful and confusing than her fall.

“Sorry, it
’s the vim,” I said in a low, raspy tone as my eyes closed briefly. The feel of her skin, even with the silk barrier, was enticing. I could swear I felt a fever, a fire under my hands.

She glanced at her feet to the heels they had given her to wear. “Vim,” she repeated.

I found myself smiling, a charmed smile. She was so innocent, yet powerfully seductive at the same time.

“Um, no,” I said as I knelt before her and carefully removed the shoes from her delicate, perfectly shaped feet. Her hands rested on my shoulders for balance, and I could not stop myself from letting my hands linger on her calves as I took my time taking her shoes off. Hearing her sigh caused my body to tense and react in a way that was beyond polite or reasonable.

I pushed the tempting thoughts out of my mind and somehow found a way to relax a bit before I laughed at myself and stood. “These are heels. I’ve never understood why girls enjoy wearing them. Vim. That is energy. How I moved so quickly. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Now without the heels, her height barely reached my shoulder. I had to tell myself not to pull her into the cage of my arms. I knew she would fit so seamlessly there.

Logic was screaming at me, telling me that these emotions I felt for her were only this sharp, this aware, because I had lived in solitude for so long. I had denied myself even the slightest brush against another being, always staying focused on this time of compromise that had loomed over me since the moment I took my first breath.

My soul was telling my logic to go to hell. She was
mine
. I felt this way because my soul recognized her as so.

“You don
’t scare me,” she said in a tender tone that carried a degree of determination that I had to respect. I could see the battle of thoughts and emotions in her eyes as well. She wasn’t terrified of me, but of the idea that I was only a dream; the way her hands squeezed against my flesh told me that. No doubt, her passage here was placing her in a misty fog that hazed the lines of the subconscious and conscious.

The dim light in her eyes had vanished; they were now glowing blue again. I reached my thumb to trace the bottom of her eye. “I don
’t understand this,” I said to myself. I swear to you, when her gaze locked with mine the universe stood still.

I let my hand rest on the small of her back as I led her to sit down.

“Did you eat? How are you feeling?”

“I did. Well,” she said as a smile dangled on the edge of her rose-tinted lips.

“Are you sure? The Fall is a beast that must be respected. It can jolt your mind.”

“I didn
’t come from The Fall.”

I swallowed nervously.

“Sky.” I halted. “Is that really your name? Did Seneca see it correctly?”

“In part. I think. It
’s all fading. Everything but you.”

I pulled my stare from her eyes and looked through the energy around her. Though she had no obvious tracers, I could vaguely see a past behind her—at least I thought it was the past. She looked the same, yet the people around her almost seemed familiar to me—at least their energy did. Just as I went to focus on the images, they vanished, leaving only the idea of them behind.

“Tell me what you remember.” If I didn’t get her to latch on to a memory, she would lose it all. She had to find an anchor.

“You...looking for you.”

“Me?” I repeated.

All at once, this bliss of enchantment faded when I realized that if she had come from the other side, then she very well may have been looking for my twin, and that burned me. If that were true, I was no longer feeling slighted by being told to end him so I could find my life.
Mine
.

I started to tap my hands on my thighs.
Rat-a-tat-tat
.

“You play the drums.”

“Me? No, um, not at all,” I said as I looked awkwardly at the sticks that I had tossed on the table before I took a shower.
What was it with the drums today?

“No, you do. I saw you. I know I saw you. You love it. It sets you free, you take your fears and anguish and explode them into a rhythm that is inconceivable. I could feel the sound vibrating inside of me. You inside.”

I coughed and turned away, trying to hide a blush. My wayward thoughts were not mingling well with her innocent conversation.

There was so much passion and reverence in her tone; every syllable was enticing to hear.

The only thing that centered me was knowing that my twin, as far as I knew, had never played an instrument that resembled the drums. Not once.

“I
’m going to try something,” I said as my eyes met hers. “I, um, I’m odd in the manner that I can see someone’s past in their energy. Most of the time with a glance, but if I, if I can touch your skin. If you are calm, then that will help.” I reached for her delicate hands and laced my fingers through hers.

I let out a hiss as I felt a vibration soar through me when we touched. This woman was like a live wire, raw power. “If I can see it, then I give you names or places to hold on to. That will allow you to explore the memories, pull them back to you, if you will.” My fingers tightened around hers.