Embrace, Entice, Emblaze (5 page)

entities that produce good, there must also be those that don’t.”

“You mean evil?” I asked, feeling confused.

“Maybe it’s not as clear- cut as that. Maybe it’s the very presence of one thing— light or darkness— that necessitates the existence of the other. Think about it—people couldn’t become legendary

heroes if they hadn’t first done something to combat darkness.

Doctors could do no good if there weren’t diseases for them to

treat.” His eyes focused on me, willing me to understand. When

he saw he wasn’t about to be rewarded, he gave a half laugh and smiled, putting a hand out to pull me up from the floor.

I stood and took the paintbrush from his hand. “Is it okay if I say I have absolutely
no
idea what you’re talking about?”

“You will,” he said softly, turning toward the kitchen before I could see his face.

After he helped me clean the brushes and I helped him tidy up

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the kitchen, I grabbed my bag and he grabbed his keys at the same time, and we paused to smile at each other briefly. I loved that we had this— whatever it was. We didn’t have to talk about things; we had our own little routine. I knew without asking that he would drive me home, and he knew without asking that I would let him.

When he pulled his four- wheel-drive up outside my apartment

complex he cut the engine and turned to me.

“I’m okay,” I said before he could ask.

He nodded and smiled grimly. “Are we going for a run in the

morning?”

“I have an early shopping date with Steph.”

I was glad I had a legitimate excuse to get out of a ten- kilometer run for once.

Lincoln gave a smooth laugh. “Aha, birthday shopping.”

“Yes, and don’t start. I’m relying on you to let tomorrow go by without paying me any attention at all.”

“I promise I won’t even be nice to you.”

He was lying.

“Good.”

So was I.

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chapter
five

“Are you up to your destiny?”

wiLLiaM shaKespeare

“It is time for you to know.” Th e words fll oated through the air, almost
surrounding me before reaching me.

“To know what?” I asked disjointedly.

“Who you are.”

Th e man in my dream stepped toward me. I didn’t recognize him,
even though he seemed so familiar. His face was structured around
a chiseled jawline. I would have said he was handsome but for his
eyes. Th ey were so distant. Th ey made him look separate from this
world, disconnected.

“And who am I?”

I was wearing sweats and a once
-
white T- shirt that now resembled
more of a paint palette. A canvas sat on an easel in front of me. A
paintbrush was in my hand.

“You are you and you are me. You are the Keshet.”

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He
was
standing
by
the
window
in
my
art
studio, looking out at a
clouded, gray sky. He seemed disappointed with what he saw. It was
normal for me. The weather always seemed a little gloomy in my dreams.

“I’m you?” My voice rang with an echo like bells. My words, like his,
seemed to float invisibly and effortlessly between us.

“Partly. You are part human as well.”

My
hand
moved
absently
over
the
canvas.

“You’re not human?” I could smell flowers. I knew the smell well. I
loved lilies, especially white lilies. They were strong and beautiful. I’d
always been drawn to them.

“No.”

“What are you?”

He
glided
toward
me. It didn’t occur to me to move away.

“The question is not, what are we. Rather, what are we to become?”
He extended his hand, index finger pointed.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Waking you up!” His finger morphed into a claw, lion- like, and
lashed out at me. I stumbled back.

He
was
gone. My hand still held the paintbrush. Before me, a smear
of colors. Red at the top followed by orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo,
and violet. It reminded me of
…
a rainbow.

————

I woke up, disoriented for a few moments. I rolled over to look at my alarm clock— 1:00 a.m. I was officially seventeen. Apparently, my first gift was a walk in the world of weird dreams. I rolled back over and sandwiched my head between two pillows.
Happy birthday, Violet.

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Jessica shirvington

When I woke again, it was morning and my shoulder ached.

I instinctively grabbed at it, then sucked in a breath and bolted upright. I prodded the angry red scratch with a finger. It was no more than an inch long, but it was raw and weeping and it hurt like hell. Images of my dream kept replaying in my mind. It couldn’t be. I must have done it in my sleep somehow.

After a quick shower, I headed straight for the espresso machine.

It was no surprise to see that at 6:00 a.m., Dad had already left for the day.
Happy
Birthday
written on a Post- It was the only evidence he had been home at all.

I sat down with my first cup of coffee and that’s when I saw

them. The veins on the inside of my forearms looked different. I peered closer. They seemed darker than usual and there were
more
of them— if that was even possible. I’d never recalled the pattern being that intricate; it was almost as if they were interwoven. I shook my head. First my dream and now this. Maybe I was getting sick? Perfect. I could totally imagine spending the whole day shopping with Steph while feeling tragic.

With my second cup of coffee, I headed to my art studio in the

spare room. I tried to start a new canvas, but I kept stopping to look at my veins. In the end, I found myself back in bed, reading my mother’s letter one more time before packing it away again and storing the box under my bed.

Out of sight. Out of mind.

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chapter
six

“Now the deeds of the flesh are evident, which are immorality,
impurity, sensuality.”

gaLatians 5:19

I pressed number twelve and looked over at Steph as the doors

closed. She bounced up and down, making the elevator bounce

with her. My stomach dropped. I hated that feeling.

“I am
so
excited about tonight!”

Why Steph was so excited about my birthday was beyond me.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the mirrored wall, wishing it were tomorrow and my birthday were a thing of the past. I’d let Steph drag me around looking at dresses the whole afternoon when all I really wanted was for the day to be done.

“I’m glad someone is,” I replied.

“Cheer up! Your dad is taking us to one of the coolest restaurants in town. It’s the absolute place to go. God
knows
how he managed to get a reservation,” she said, batting her eyelids.

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Jessica shirvington

Of course, I knew Steph had helped arrange the booking. Her

brother, Jase, was a DJ. He could usually get us in anywhere.

“Plus,” she added deviously, “I’m sure Lincoln will be there to give you a birthday kiss!”

I sighed. Even though I’d invited Lincoln to meet us after dinner, I wasn’t sure he’d come. He wasn’t that keen on social gatherings, and I’d told Steph a million times he wasn’t interested in me like that. But she persisted anyway.

“Steeeeeph...” I dragged out her name in warning.

She ignored me. “I know you’re crazy about him. And I’ve seen

the way he watches you when you’re not looking. There is
definitely
something there.”

If only she were right.

“If you want him, you have to, you know…make a move. You

need to let him know what he’s missing out on. Use your…assets.” She meant my boobs. Steph was always telling me that I had

it, so I should flaunt it. But I preferred to focus on other things, like my high cheekbones, full lips, and creamy complexion.

And, of course, my long hair, which I could hide behind when I

needed refuge.

The elevator doors opened in time for my escape. I wasn’t about to start wearing super low- cut tops just to get Lincoln’s attention.

Steph had her style; I had mine. Admittedly, my “style” meant that I was now suspended in a whopping chasm of nothing- but- friends.

Inside the apartment, I dropped the shopping bags in my

room and headed for the kitchen. It was white with stainless- steel 38

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appliances that sparkled from lack of use— all except for the

espresso machine, which was always switched on and running hot.

I set about making us coffee while Steph shadowed me.

“What do you want me to do?” I said, throwing my hands in the

air. “He just wants to be friends!”

It was becoming irritating having to explain to people that

Lincoln wasn’t interested in me. And apart from the obvious reason why there was no way I was going to make a move, I didn’t want to risk losing what we already had. If I didn’t have Steph and Lincoln, I had no one.

“Well, now that you mention it, I
might
have had an idea,” Steph said, smiling a smile I knew all too well. It usually meant disaster.

I rolled my eyes. “Dare I ask?”

Steph made herself comfortable on one of the stools at the

breakfast bar. I stared at her, waiting for an answer. She blew on her coffee, stalling.

“Ever heard the phrase, ‘candy is dandy but liquor is quicker’?” Great, she wanted me to get drunk. “Ah…ever heard of
underage
?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” she said matter- of- factly.

“That’s your great plan?”

She put down her cup, shook her head at me, and gave an exag-

gerated sigh, as if to say,
What
am
I
going
to
do
with
you?

“Just a couple of drinks and you can ask him outright. If he says he just wants to be friends, then sure, it’s embarrassing, but you can pass it off as having had a few too many and pretend it never happened and you guys can go back to your weird adventure- sports 39

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friendship.
But
, if he says something else, then…” She threw her arms wide. “Voilà!”

I had to admit, it had possibilities.

————

When the doormen opened the black glossy doors for us on our

arrival at Hades, I had to confess that despite all my complaining, I was feeling pretty good in my new little black dress. It was the back— or rather, the
lack
of one— that was the feature. It started from just above my butt, daringly low, my entire back bare except for two thin straps. Steph had taken care of everything, even giving me a pair of stick- on boob cups as a birthday gift. At first I didn’t believe they’d work, but after a few attempts at positioning that left us both crying with laughter, they actually stayed put and even I was amazed when I looked in the mirror. To top off the outfit, my dark hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail that fell in a straight line down my back.