The Light of the World (11 page)

He looks at her, "You're free. Free to do magic
and be who you are. I can't guarantee it will be that way if you
decide to practice like your ancestors. Keep the guard up.
Apparently something wanted her hid away. Not sure if that means
it's coming here or Plattsburg but either way I would be
careful."

She nods and walks us to the door, "I know."

He ignores her and walks out. He gets into the
car. I walk out onto her porch and shake my head, "You know? You
know what's searching for me?"

She nods once, "I know, but I can't help you.
Find the Earth Witches Rayne. They’ll help you. I can't."

I look down, "Well. Uhm. Thanks. I guess."

She lifts my chin and gives me a severe look,
"Don’t thank me yet. He has no magic over you, but that doesn’t
mean he will let you live. Keep your eyes open. Him and his kind
don’t ever do anything, without a reason. And usually that reason
has something to do with killing one of us. Don’t trust him or
anyone like him."

I want to stay with her. For whatever reason I
like her. I pause and watch him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

I look back at her and marvel at the fiery eyes,
"How did you know what I was? How did you see me when he
couldn’t."

She crosses her arms and smirks, "The Van
Helsings think they're so powerful, but the witches of the earth
have learned to block them. You had a powerful spell around you.
Protecting you from things like him. I could see it. It and the
dead things that hang off of. They told me about the dream. They
said to say that and you would believe. They wanted you out of the
restaurant."

"Dead things? You mean the whispering dead?"

She looks around, "Yup. Slow things down one day
and have a chat with them. Let them take you home. Good luck with
him though. He's a piece of work."

My frown is fixed when I look at him. My
feelings for him are still at war with each other. "Can I get a
magical divorce?"

She laughs and closes the door, "Good luck."

I walk to the car and try not to think about
what she said, or didn’t say.

We don’t go back to school. I don’t know why. I
don't want to know why. My constant stomachache is gone. My
feelings of intense and unnatural love for Wyatt have to go with
it.

It was like we crossed a state line and all of a
sudden I looked over and was disgusted. The memory of his hand
whipping across my cheek makes me feel a new kind of sickness. It's
as if a veil has been lifted and I see him for what he is, just a
boy.

He looks more relaxed.

I can't relax. My fingers dig into my palms. I'm
pretty sure I've drawn blood with my nails.

The scenery flies past us. I've lost track of
where we are.

I want Willow. I want yesterday. I would take
the stomachache back if it could be yesterday. Yesterday when I was
getting dressed and crying over the phone, with the woman I
believed to be my mother. I want that back more than I want
anything. I want to be free of the life I took in the grass. The
debt of the dead man feels heavy, as it should.

He smiles at me. I just watch him.

We've been driving for six hours. My back is
aching and my legs are cramped. He's only stopped for gas once.

"When we get there let me do the talking okay?"
Talking to who?

I want my cell phone. I want to phone the police
and confess and tell them the dead man was my doing. I want to
snuggle on my bed and have Michelle stroke my head, while Mona
Photoshop's pictures of us. I want so many things. Yet all I do is
stare out the window and watch as countryside I have never seen
before, flies by me at an unnatural sped.

The car swerves when he tries to hold my hand.
My natural fear of him has started to sink in. Somehow now I see
the things I should have seen all along. I see the way his eyes
look through me and the brutal strength in his voice and hands. He
could choke the life out of me and I don’t think I could stop him.
My natural fear doesn’t have common sense. She is just a bitch who
hates the man next to me, as much as she wants him. I don’t know
where I fit into that scenario.

He slows the car for the first time in what
feels like ages. The engine of the Lexus purrs, as he makes a turn
onto a dirt road. He drives slowly up the gravel driveway. It winds
in a thin forest until it comes to a huge white mansion. I've never
seen anything like it before. It's stunning. It looks like the
white house.

"Where are we?"

"Falmouth."

I frown, "On the Cape? We've been driving for
the whole day. It doesn’t take this long to get here. Not the way
you drive."

He glances at me, no doubt when he catches my
tone.

"I was going somewhere else and changed my
mind."

I don’t know if that is a good thing or a bad
thing. I don’t know what to think.

He pulls up to where a young girl stands at the
front door watching us. She looks about ten. She has a gray hoodie
on and skinny jeans. She looks like him. Dark hair and blue eyes. I
can see the thing in her face that I saw on his. She is evil like
he is. I could stab her in the throat and she would live. My common
sense bitch wants to stab her in the throat. It's a weird feeling
for me, wanting to harm a child.

She scowls at me.

I don’t get out of the car.

He climbs out and stretches with the door open,
"Hey Maggie."

She points, "What is that?"

He bends and looks at me, "Get out."

I can see what she is. Something in me
recognizes the hatred she has for me and meets it with a fresh dose
of my own.

I shake my head, "No thanks."

He groans, "Mags, turn it off."

She chews her lip and suddenly her face is sweet
and innocent. Instantly all I see is a small girl with long silky
hair and too skinny, skinny jeans.

The way she turns it off freaks me out more than
the weird intense eyes and hatred.

He closes the door and walks to my door. He
opens it and takes my hand. The seat belt holds me in the car. He
bends to undo it but I swat at him, "No. I don’t want to get out. I
don’t want to."

He grabs my hands and shows me the dry brown
blood in the creases, where the hand sanitizer never reached. It's
under my nails and on my shirt.

"You need to come in and get cleaned up." He
takes my thick book, "And we need to read this."

I look into his blue eyes and press the release
on my seatbelt.

He pulls me out of the car.

"I'm Maggie? What are you?"

I shake my head, "I don’t know. My name is
Rayne."

She tilts her head. "How come you can touch
her?"

He frowns at her.

She raises an eyebrow, "Mom is gonna kill you
Wy." She is super shitty and bratty. I almost look up and thank god
for making sure I was an only child, but I don’t. I might not be an
only child. I might just be the only child they gave away.

He grips my hand, "Yup." He pulls me up the huge
front steps that have to be twenty feet wide. We walk through the
massive double front door. The foyer is huge. Dark tiles and a
grand sweeping staircase sliding up the cream colored walls. Cherry
wood tables and a huge green and beige bench and other finery are
everywhere. I think I gasped at one point.

"We had two very different childhoods." I mutter
and look around at the grandeur of his house.

He shoots me his boyish charming smile, "This is
the summer house."

I nod, "Of course it is."

The foyer is bigger than my house.

He drags me up the stairs to a huge open area.
Two huge hallways that have to be eight feet across, branch off the
massive sitting area at the top of the stairs.

He pulls me down the hall on the right. His
steps are so big I'm jogging to keep up. He is always dragging me
and pulling me. I'm tired of his leading and not knowing where I'm
going. I remind myself I'm a fugitive. Bitchy common sense reminds
me that he is the reason I'm a fugitive.

He opens double doors to a massive room that is
four times the size of my dorm room. A king sized four-poster bed
and dark cherry wood furniture fills one corner of the room. It's
the biggest bed I've ever seen. It's the size of a Hummer.

I get nervous seeing it.

He spins me and kisses me. I push him off, "What
are you doing?"

"Kissing you. I've been wanting to do it all
day." He speaks like he's entitled.

I shake my head and wipe my lips, "Don’t. I
don’t know anything and it's making me feel weird. I just want to
have a shower and then read the book. I want answers Wyatt. I
killed a man and my mom vanished and you burned my house down."

His dark eyelashes and dark blue eyes have me
captive. He leans down slowly and presses his deliciously soft lips
into mine. He pushes back my hair and shakes his head. He smiles.
It's cocky and it makes my skin crawl, in a good way. Damn him.

"Wanna get clean and consummate our
marriage?"

I kick him in the shin and push him off.

He steps back and turns and walks out. He grabs
the door handles and walks out. He speaks softly just as they shut,
"Shower fast Rayne."

I hear a lock click. I dash at the doors and
turn the handles. Nothing. I am locked in. My brain works as the
devil's advocate and whispers, 'maybe the others are locked out'
and my heart tries to agree. I still don’t know why it's defending
him. Bitchy common sense is quiet. I think she likes the
kisses.

The bathroom is ridiculous, the bed is soft and
lush, and the clothes on the bureau are my size. I don’t know what
kind of magic is at work. How did he get the clothes here without
me knowing? Did he plan to abduct me all along?

I look out the window and clutch the book. My
wet hair dripping on the dark hardwood floor is the only noise I
hear. The jeans and t-shirt are not only my size but they're clean
and smell like bounce. Like him.

I watch the waves crash into the rocks in the
distance. The ocean view is amazing. The sea is gray and stormy. I
imagine my eyes look similar. I know I feel stormy.

My fingers tremble and my stomach feels like
it's gnawing on my spine.

I am lost. I look out at the ocean and have the
faintest feeling that I could run and jump in and swim away. Like I
know that there would be something at the bottom of the sea,
waiting for me. A whole world waiting for me to wake up.

The door opens. I don’t turn. I'm angry and
confused. I'm afraid of my response if I turn. I'm afraid of him.
My natural responses that were hidden before are there.

"Ready?" He says.

"For what?"

His warm hands are around me and pulling me into
him. He smells my neck and plants soft kisses that resemble a
whisper along my nape.

"To read about what you are." He mutters into my
ear.

I turn and push him off of me, "You can't love
something like me. I just want to make sure you remember that."

His cocky grin decides to join the conversation,
"Sex doesn’t need love."

"You've proven that. I'm still not letting you
paw me after saying that."

His eyes turn dangerous, "We are married
Rayne."

"I think your plan there backfired. Your charms
don’t work on me anymore. I don’t feel like I did before."

"I don’t see why we can't have a mutual
agreement that benefits us both."

I gasp disgusted, "What? Oh my god you're
disgusting."

He leans against the huge Queen Anne chair next
to him, "Don't be such a prude. I saw you with the guys at school
and not at school."

"I think I'm done. I think I need to go back to
Burlington and confess now."

He chuckles, "What will you tell them? You'll
end up raging and killing everyone in the room when they cuff you.
Your instincts are sharp. Trust me. Things like you are amazing at
survival."

I step back, "Things? Really? Things? You talk
like I know what you're talking about. I hate that. I don’t know
what you mean in any of this. I don’t know what anything is. It's
like you're scared to tell me and you've given me nothing to go
on."

He licks his lips, "We need to figure you out. I
don’t know either."

I bend and pick up the book that fell when we he
attacked me with kisses and mauling. He grabs my hand and drags me
from the room. "We need to go to my basement. My uncle is down
there. He'll know what's what with you."

We walk down the stairs and I have the slightest
urge to push him down them. He glances back at me and gives me a
look. His eyes see everything. I know they do. Every thought. They
turn and shine like before. It's not a good thing. He's reading me
with them.

We cross the foyer and walk into a room with a
buffet. He reaches inside and turns a piece of crystal and the
buffet pushes in.

Another secret passage? Is the whole world
crazy? Or have I been blind to all the possibilities out there?

We walk slowly down a winding set of stairs
similar to Willow's. Only nicer.

It opens at the bottom into a massive area with
huge shelves and what looks like a wrestling or boxing ring. There
are small lamps lit everywhere. The room is lit but my eyes are
doing their thing again.

A man is reading at a table. He has a small lamp
attached to his head and glasses. He looks like he's going caving
but he's wearing a sweater, and he looks too feeble and old to
cave.

He is writing furiously and reading.

Books are opened across a long table. Debris
covers the table, papers and books and feathers and pencils and
pens and pots of ink.

It looks like nothing I've ever seen. The whole
room does. Swords line the far wall. The basement must be as big as
the whole mansion. The whole basement is finished, as it was
upstairs. Dark furniture and finery are in every corner, but with a
medieval feeling to them.