Lost Seraphine (The Seraphine Trilogy #2) (10 page)

The wings start to flap, creating a dust storm too thick to be natural. Cori and I shield our eyes while Mabry continues to hold the sphere, still giving off a shield of some type that not even Bernael wants to mess with. When the area clears, we all glance around. There’s no one other than the three of us standing there in the musky scent of dark magic and wondering what it means now that Bernael has revealed he knows my full name.

Caleb

“Man, I wish the Razors would get back together again,” Kyle says as he flips the hamburger meat on the grill. “This little hole of a town could use some excitement.”

Today is one of those rare pre-spring days in March where you can actually
feel
spring, even though it’s not quite here yet; it’s perfect enough for eating outside and hanging out with your buddies while pretending you actually like the beer you just snuck out of the refrigerator.

Like many other southern folks, Kyle’s parents live by the grill and swear by the grill. The deck behind his house has been turned into an outdoor kitchen complete with fully cushioned wicker chairs and stainless steel appliances.

He also lives further inside the city limits, unlike me who lives a hop, skip and a jump away from the ocean. I don’t know why, but for some reason I find myself missing the salty smells of the sea right now.

“I know what we need to do; a double date. You know, Kyle and Shani getting up with Caleb and Gia.” Kyle’s voice rips my mind and stomach back to the scene around me, firing up the hunger pangs along with my return.

I keep silent. I know what he’s thinking. To Kyle it seems like I’ve kept a secret from him. I mean, Kyle the K9 and I have been friends forever, yet I’m still keeping things from him.

How do you go about telling someone that the life you thought you knew and understood to be yours was all a lie?

Shani’s finally warming up to the idea of Gia and me as a couple, which feels great. She never thought Erica was good enough for me, or any of my previous girlfriends when I think about it. Then there’s Thorne. It’s like he doesn’t even remember his dating gig with Gia, which isn’t bad at all. I’d hate to have to rearrange his face or either have mine reconstructed instead if he somehow manages to overpower me. I like my face, you know.

When I’ve asked Gia about Thorne’s sudden amnesia she told me that his memory of their relationship was wiped out along with the rest of the people who had attended the Halloween party.

“Tell ya what, my man,” I begin. “We’ll talk about dating and such things some other time. How about that?”

“What are you? Afraid I’ll steal your girl,” Kyle teases. He wiggles his eyebrows, brown hair flipping into his eyes because he has allowed it to grow so long.

“Uh, don’t think so,” I answer. “That would require the need to have the touch of a god, which I don’t think you can handle.” I touch my arm and mimic the sizzling sound he made a few months ago when he thought Erica and I was a couple.

“Uh, full of ourselves much, brah?” Kyle answers and flips another patty. The meat is almost black on the outsides and I can’t help thinking they remind me of the little crab monsters Mel set loose on me in a particularly disturbing dream vision I had a while back.

That was the time when I wound up walking into an underground cave and found myself surrounded by these black crabs that were walking around on creepy little human feet. Yeah, seriously. During the whole time I was about to become crab dinner, Gia was dancing because she was under a spell cast by Paige’s sea witch sister, Mel. The freaky thing about all that was when I woke up, I found the scratches all over my legs. Yeah. It was kinda like the crabs really had a go at me even though I was dreaming.

“Hey! What La La land did you drift off to this time? I was telling you how UNC accepted both Shani and me,” Kyle says, beaming a smile. I focus on my friend.

“What? You didn’t tell me you got accepted? You’ve been holding out on me.”
Yeah. That’s a touch hypocritical, you think?

“I told you we applied. You probably don’t remember because you were lost in thoughts of Gia.” He tilts his head to the side and then makes a silly, dreamy looking face. I ball up a piece of foil and toss it at him. “Shani’s parents are ready to marry us off and send us packing. Then there’s my mom and dad, you know they are Xing out the calendar as we speak.”

“That’s great, man. You know I know how badly you wanted to get into UNC’s psych program,” I answer truthfully.

He finishes flipping a few burgers, shuts the grill and then comes to sit at the glass patio table his mom just purchased. “What about you and Gia? Did you guys hear from any schools yet?”

Nah. Gia and me might be moving to a new city, a place located underneath the sea because she’s homesick and I don’t know what the hell to do about it.
Instead, I say, “Nah. We both applied late, so we’re still waiting.”

“Last minute Billy. That’s what Grams nicknamed me. You can have it now, though.” We both share a laugh, a nervous one. Kyle squints and glances around nervously. “Has Gia thought about what she wants to do after school?”

I know my friend. This is a stall tactic question for getting to the real thing he wants to talk about. I play along for the moment, anyway. Of course Gia hasn’t talked about her plans after graduation. She’s still trying to find a way to fit into the human world let alone finding a way to enter the alternate universe known as college. “Not really. She’s still deciding.”

“Shani’s all set to take over the English language.” He makes another nervous laugh. I can’t stand it anymore.

“And the real thing you’d like to talk to me about would be...?” I ask and lean over toward him, my eyebrows raised; it’s always been my let’s-get-serious indicator for my friend.

He releases a long sigh and then says, “Shani and me... well, we kinda got carried away last week when we went to see that drive through movie.”

“Right. And...”

“Have you and Gia talked about, you know.”

“Is sex the word you’re struggling to say?” I ask.

“I’m not struggling with it. I was just trying to be respectful of my girl’s privacy.” His voice raises a notch and his eyes go wide. Talking about intimate things has never been something Kyle has been able to do. Comics, movies, collectible figurines; he can kill you with details on those things. When I think about it, neither of us ever has had a reason to discuss our sex lives.

We’ve been so wrapped up in being kids that neither of us has seen life sneak through the door and wrap its arms around us, welcoming all three of my childhood friends into its confusing embrace.

“Don’t go telling Shani I told you about this,” Kyle says, pointing his spatula at me.

“Hey, calm down. It’s just me sitting here. Now put the weapon away,” I tease, trying to lighten up one of the most awkward moments of our lives. “Did you use protection?”

Damn, I sound like my mom. She talks to me more about condoms, sex and things than Darren does.

Kyle gives me an incredulous look and says, “What do you think? We’re starting our lives in a few months. Neither one of us wants to screw that up,
Dad
.”

“Hey. I was just looking out, is all.”

“I gotcha. What about you and Gia? With a girlfriend who looks like that, you won’t ever convince me the thought hasn’t crossed your mind. Or maybe you’ve already rode in the boat without telling me.” A serious expression flicks across his face. I can tell he’s joking, but he’s being a tad serious, too.

“No, we haven’t floated any boats yet, and what’s that last little statement supposed to mean?” I ask, an uneasy feeling inching its way through my chest.

“It means nothing, all right. Forget I said anything.” He reaches into his pocket, fumbling for something and then turns to me. “Heads up, Wood.” I raise my hands in just enough time to catch a string of three condoms Kyle just tossed my way.

“Oh, come on. Seriously?” I ask, my face flaming as I dangle the packets in the air.

Shrugging, he gives me an innocent smirk and says, “Hey, I’m lookin’ out too. You’ll thank me someday.” Then he stands up and returns to flipping burgers. I pocket the condoms right away. Kyle’s my friend. I have all this craziness going on in my life, the least I can do is confide in the one person I know I can trust.

“You’re right. I have been keeping some things from you,” I say, studying my hands. He turns his head toward me.

“Yeah? ‘Bout time you decided to come straight with me. We’ve been friends a long time, Caleb. I know when something’s not right with you.”

“You’re right. A few months ago, I found out—”

“Looky look what we have out here,” Shani’s voice says from beside the deck. She’s wearing a black mini skirt and tights along with a low cut v-neck tee shirt. Her long, dark brown hair flows around her shoulders and a tight pink turtleneck finishes the look. I think Kyle’s eyes just might fly out of the sockets at any moment.

“My two favorite men ever hanging out and making burgers just for me. How sweet.” She embraces Kyle and kisses him, like she
really
kisses him. I feel my cheeks heating and I’m already starting to feel like the third eyeball.

“Looks like you two have some serious business to take care of, so I think I’ll grab a burger and get home. Yoga ladies should be gone by now,” I say, standing up and grabbing a bun and a bottle of Texas Pete, my substitute for ketchup.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off, Caleb, honey,” Shani says and then hugs me, too. “Come on, don’t go. Stay for a little while longer.”

“Honestly, I have a lot of homework to knock out.” I finish slapping a couple of hamburgers together and gather up my books.

“You know you’re not off the hook, right, brah?” Kyle says as I step down on the first tread.

“Right. Try not to fall off that boat after I leave.” I wink and then head to my car, feeling somewhat grateful that Shani interrupted us before I had the chance to tell Kyle my whole life has been based on a lie.

Caleb

I don’t know if it’s the grease Kyle and I ate in those thick burgers he made or if it’s all the Red Bull I downed them with, but I’m experiencing the craziest dream I’ve had yet.

This time, a strange woman shows up at the house I’m inside. This one is smaller than the place we live in now, so I know I’m somewhere different. I guess I must be around three-or-four-years-old. I can only assume that’s about right judging from the short length of my arms and legs.

The woman I’m staring at, a dark haired, gorgeous lady with skin as pale as milk, stands in the doorway she has somehow opened and floats in the air. It’s nuts!

At first I think:
What a pretty lady. She must be one of the witches from that old Charmed show my mom watches all the time.

My thoughts change real quick when I take a peek at her feet. A fin sticks out the side of her floor length dress and it’s smacking against the ground. You’d think after seeing mermaid fins attached to a human woman I would start calling for my mom, right? Nope. Instead, I glance back up at her face. Another mistake. My Snow White in the flesh turns into a fairly wicked looking, gray skinned witch pretty darn fast.

I start crying.

No, wait. I wail like a banshee.

Mom’s asleep on the couch. She looks much younger than she does now. She bolts up on the chair, focuses on the woman and rushes to my side, scooping me up in her arms.

“Don’t be a naughty girl, Alison,” the dark-haired woman says to Mom, her voice reminding me of a harp the way the syllables echo like music notes around us. “The child belongs to us.”

“Never! Stay away, you old hags,” my mom hisses.

Two more women, a blonde and a girl with light brown hair, have floated to flank either side of the dark-haired woman. The scent of honey mixed with a smoky smell drifts into our tiny cottage, mingling with the scent of the sea.

Mom reaches out to the coffee table in the middle of the room, grabs hold of something that looks a lot like a golden compass with a strange green stone molded on top and opens the casing. Gold light glows around the outside case. The women scream, screeching wails that pierce my eardrums. While they’re distracted, Mom slams the door shut and runs in the opposite direction, heading toward the back rooms in our tiny cottage. Inside my room, she slams the door, sliding the lock into place with a loud thump-click.

“We will have him. He belongs to us. Your lover’s mortal weaponry will not stop us, human woman! The child belongs in our world, a place where he can be properly trained.” The musical voices seem to be coming from all around the outside of our house. I stop wailing and slam my hands over my ears.

“I’ll kill you myself before I let you take my son,” Mom yells, her tiny body trembling.

She holds me tighter in her arms and starts backing up toward the wall furthest away from the windows. I can feel the tension in her, the fear, her terror, but she hasn’t started crying yet.

“Shh, don’t cry, my baby love. We’ll be all right,” she says to the room while kissing the top of my head. “Oh, Aaron, why did you leave us this way?” She’s talking about my father, the real one.

At once, a bright light fills the room. Screeches and howls sound outside the two windows in my room. I join in with my own three-year-old wails.

Mom cries out. “Stay away from my son! You cannot have him, damn you!” Black shadows pass by the windows, illuminated by the street light in our yard.

She opens her eyes, spins around with me still in her arms and screams. A man stands before us. He has appeared out of nowhere, looming almost a foot and a half over my mom’s petite five-foot-four frame, the man gives off an unearthly glow with his brown clothing. A prince, nah. A god. That’s exactly what he looks like.

Man, he’s the tallest dude I’ve ever seen.

Blonde hair hangs loose around his shoulders, creating a halo around a perfectly chiseled face. Mom inhales sharply and then exhales a shaky gasp. “I know what you are. Have you come to save us, angel?”

“You called me; I came. I can help you, my mortal child.” The man who Mom calls an angel gives her an equally unearthly smile.

“Thank goodness. Please help us,” Mom pleads.

“As you know, favors from the celestials do not come so easily. I will need something in return for my services.”

“Anything. Just please don’t let them take my baby.” Mom cradles my head, holding me so tight I can barely breathe.

The smile he gives my mom cuts through me like a shard of ice. I start whining again. “Oh, how those of red blood and fragile bones do so willingly offer that which may not be theirs to give in the first place.” For some reason I start crying again. The angel reaches out a slender hand that’s too perfect. Mom hesitates and glances at the window one final time. “Or maybe you’d rather stay and face the Melusine witches who have come to steal your baby.”

“No. Please don’t let them take him,” Mom’s voice cracks. She’s shivering now. I want to help her, wipe away her tears.
Damn all this shit!

“Give me the child,” the blonde angel purrs, his long locks flapping inside a strange wind, his amber-eyed gaze hungrily sizing me up. “No harm will come to him.”

Mom gives me a small hug, kisses my head and lifts me up toward him. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was saying goodbye. The closer I get to this man, the more the air surrounding us burns my skin. I wail louder. I might only be three, but I can already sense the darkness inside this guy.

He gathers me in his arms, strokes my hair and moves his lips down to my ear. “There, there now, my special one. No need to fear the mean old witches,” he says in a calm voice.

Then he walks over to the window of our tiny apartment and holds up his left hand. Something that looks a lot like fire ignites across the top four fingers of his splayed palm.

“What are you doing?” I hear Mom’s voice ask. The angel keeps his gaze locked on the shadows of the women outside the window, if that’s what you want to call them.

At once, the fire transfers from his fingers to the glass in front of us. The flames begin spinning along the edges of the frame, creating a ring of fire. Somehow the fire penetrates the glass without damaging the window. Mom gasps. The angel beams a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. I’m too terrified to do anything besides suck my thumb.

Outside the window, the fire grows into a raging flame. The women scream and then they vanish, leaving behind willowy puffs of smoke which are thick enough to be seen through the white shades covering the windows.

“Are they gone?” Mom asks, her voice harried.

The angel doesn’t answer. Instead, he smiles at me, a pure slice of wickedness that creeps across his face as he releases the catch on the shade, lifting it. Now only the empty night and bushes that have grown too close to the window are visible. He turns to face Mom.

“I always keep my word, mate of the Wanderer.”

“May I have my child back? Please,” Mom asks in a tiny voice.

“Not just yet,” he says, his fingers moving aside the hair at the base of my skull, exposing the skin at the tender part along the edge of my hairline. A slight sting shoots through the area he’s touching. I don’t cry this time. My silence happens more out of fear than from the pain I’m feeling.

“What are you doing? Give back my child!”

Mom rushes toward us just as the dream fades to black.

I bolt upright in my bed and start grasping at the hairs on my neck.
Damn that dream was too freakin’ real.
This is what I get for being lazy and napping instead of knocking out my homework. Man, I need a haircut. I won’t find any magical tattoos in this mop trap of mine. That thought enlightens me. I’m long overdue for a trim. My locks could give Jon Bon Jovi a run for his money. I’m not talking about his new do, either.

I untangle my legs out of the sheet wrapped around my limbs, stand and head into the bathroom located just outside my room. It’s late in the evening. Mom and Darren still haven’t returned from yet another emergency meeting between the city engineers.
Good.
I don’t need anybody questioning me or thinking I’ve gone insane. She has too good of a heart to tell my stepdad how much attending these conventions or whatever, keep interfering with her own life.

I head back into the bathroom, reach into the cabinet underneath the sink and pull out Darren’s clippers. They look almost as old as me. Hopefully there’s still enough kick in them to cut at least a few hairs.

I have no idea what I’m doing because I can’t see the back of my head. The only other time I ever cut my own hair was when Kyle and I tried to give ourselves Mohawks. I can still feel my bottom stinging from the punishment Darren gave me after he caught us.

I turn on the clippers. The friction from the blades whirs to life against my fingers, tickling the skin. I ease the blades into the hairs growing along the spot where the angel dude touched in my dream. My hands shake.

“Damn it, stay still.”

The anxiety won’t let me keep steady, though. Sweat beads prickle across my forehead. This isn’t good. I’m going to be headed back to school on Monday with a new hairdo at this rate. And I don’t think I’ll be winning any sexy dude awards for it, either. After struggling with dull blades that cut just enough hair away, I pick up Mom’s small mirror, turn around and aim the reflection toward the larger glass behind me.

A tiny, black mark that looks a lot like a tribal tattoo was hidden inside the hair on the nape of my neck. “What the freak?” I cry out and almost drop the damn mirror. I set Mom’s favorite item down on the countertop and grasp the sides, grounding my temper.

What has Mom kept from me this time?

How does a tattoo from my dream wind up on my neck?

Freakin’ questions! I hate feeling confused all the time.

Something snaps inside me. The hair framing my face has always made me look young, naive and too cutesy to be a boy. Translation, weak. I’m not any of those things anymore. Nope. Time for me to man up and become the person I’m meant to be.

Something moves in the hallway behind me. I jerk toward it as visions of weird women with gray skins and fins flash through my head. It’s only Gia. Releasing a long sigh, I prop against the door and try to pretend she didn’t just scare the crap out of me. Yet the smile inching across her lips tells me she already knows she did.

Her stealth skills could put a soldier to shame. “Wait. Did you just do the invisible girl thing? You know, the kind where you walk through the veil?” She gives me a sad, little smile. The smokiness in her brownish-green eyes matches the tint in her aquamarine necklace. I hate being the cause of so much pain for her.

“Don’t I wish that were true,” she answers. I move closer and pull her body into my arms.

Everything about the girl, who’s really something that’s a funny name for what I’ve always called a mermaid, seems dimmer. Her small frame sags in my arms, using me for support, which is fine. I’m strong enough for us both.

I need to find some way to help her get through the grief she’s feeling. If I don’t, then I’m afraid I might lose the girl I fell in love with forever. I won’t let that happen.

“What were you doing?” She runs a hand through my hair and then glances at the clippers on the sink behind me.

“Nothing.” I shrug and try to act
cool, but Gia must have her father’s gift of insight because she’s not fooled by my lie. She purses her lips and smirks.

“You had another nightmare, didn’t you?” Reaching behind my head, Gia clasps her hands around my neck and moves my head down until my face rests against hers. I let her.

For one thing, I want her to know about my creepy, freaky dream. Then again, I can’t lie; I kind of like the way she’s touching me. She moves her hands to my shoulders, bracing them. I lift my head back up and glance into her eyes.

“What happened this time?” she asks. I fill her in on the details of the dream I had and how real it felt. Unfortunately, the things I experienced were very real. I show her the mark on my neck.

“I’m marked. I guess it’s kinda cool. You know, kinda like the way they marked people in those old Eastwood westerns Darren watches.” I hope my inability to take anything seriously will help ease the stabbing sensation growing in my gut.

“Be serious, Caleb.”

“Sorry. Too much going on. I
did
have another weirdo dream. Now, I’ve officially had two visitors inside my fun-filled dreams, an angel-god dude and a crazy brunette who’s stalking me. One who wants to turn me into a dark, avenging angel and the other who plans to kidnap me at some point. I’m a lucky guy, right?”

She smirks. “I don’t think there’s anything lucky about being marked or taken by someone like Erica.” She shakes her head and gets this faraway look as she takes a step back from me. She crosses her arms and purses her little lips. I can’t help smiling. I’m not sure, but I think she’s jealous.

“How’d you know it was Erica?” Jealousy on Gia looks both adorable and sexy. There’s something supremely satisfying about knowing a sea king’s daughter feels all gaga in the head over little ole me.

“I can tell when the Dark Seraphine is around. She’s one of my people and you’re my boyfriend.” She rolls her eyes up the tiniest bit, making me work harder to contain my grin.