Intuition (34 page)

“I have to,” I say. Drew's beautiful blue eyes look suddenly panicked, and I realize that what's right is usually what's most difficult. “Maybe we were meant for each other once, but you deserve better than I can give you. There's someone else out there who can give you what you need.”

Drew looks down momentarily and then lifts his eyes to mine. “As long as your essence is walking this earth, there is nobody else for me.”

The weight of his words hits me full force, but as hard as this is, I can't make my decisions for him. I have to make them for me. “I'm so sorry. I can't be the person you need me to be.”

He looks like he's about to cry, and I see the muscles in his jaw working. “This isn't over,” he says. “As long as I'm still breathing, this isn't over.” He reaches for me again, but I'm already gathering my shoes and my bag. I can't look at him, so I keep my eyes on the floor until I hear his footsteps in the hallway and his bedroom door slam.

I'm waiting for the elevator when the full weight of what I've just done washes over me. I had everything at the tips of my fingers—a gorgeous guy, more money than I could ever spend, a lifestyle most people can only dream about—and I just threw it all away. For what?

The last notes echo through the music hall as I look over and give all of my students a big smile. I lean over and whisper, “Now everyone stand up and take a bow.”

They all bend awkwardly at the sound of the applause, Zander bowing deepest with a toss of his head that irritates me. The lights go up and everyone begins to pack up their instruments as their parents gather at the front of the stage.

Olivia Miller walks over holding a small pink box wrapped in a ribbon. She hands it to me. “My mom made this for you,” she says. “To say thanks.”

I open it to see a tiny cake with a cello piped in frosting on the top. I put one finger in and take a taste. Lemon, my favorite. I give Olivia a hug. “Tell your mom thanks for me. And no practicing until Monday. That's an order.”

“Yes, ma'am,” she says with a grin as she runs off.

I turn back to my music stand as Herr Steinberg walks up. “That was wonderful,” he says, looking stiff and formal in the suit he always wears to recitals. This place isn't as big or as fancy as the concert hall at the Conservatory, but I love him for always taking every recital seriously.

I stand up, lifting my case upright. “They were,” I say. “I'm really proud of how well everyone did.”

“Your students were great,” he agrees. “But I was talking about you. You had total command over the instrument today. It's almost impossible to believe that only a few months ago, we thought you might never play again.”

“It was okay,” I concede. “But not like before.”

“Not like before
yet
,” Herr Steinberg adds. “I'm serious. If you keep moving forward like you've been doing, your future as a cellist is wide open. I'm not going to say it will be easy, but with a lot of hard work and a little luck, you will be able to do whatever you dream of.” He watches me intently. “Do you know what it is you're dreaming of?”

I look down and fiddle with the latch on the cello case. Being a cellist is all I ever thought about doing, but now things are different. My Akhet skills and knowledge are growing every day, and things that I never thought about doing before suddenly seem like they could be within reach. “I'm not sure anymore.”

“Well, I hope you'll keep working with me at the studio,” he says. “I know you'll have to cut back on your hours when school starts next week, but you have a job here as long as you want it.”

“Thanks. I'm not planning on going anywhere.”

“Excellent news.” Steinberg puts his arm around my shoulders and gives me a hug.

Dad pops his head around the curtain. “Need help carrying anything?”

“You can grab my bag if you want,” I say, hauling the strap for the cello over my shoulder.

“Got it.” He bends over and kisses me on the forehead. “That was wonderful, honey. Don't tell your mom I said so, but she went through more than one tissue during your performance.”

“Thanks. I'm glad you guys came.”

“You couldn't have kept us away.” He holds up his phone. “Kat asked me to record it for her. She's sorry she's not here.”

I stare at him. This is the first mention I've heard of Kat since she left. “Thanks.”

We walk out into the main hall, where Rayne and her mom are waiting for me. Even though her memories are still brief and scattered, I've had her meet with Janine a few times to help her adjust to her new Akhet life. For as much as Veronique succeeded in opening up her memories, she got one thing wrong—Rayne was never Alessandra. The two of us have tried and failed to make that connection. “This is for you,” Rayne says, shoving a bamboo plant into my hands with a grin.

“Thanks,” I say. “Just what I needed. Way too many people bring flowers to these things.”

“You and your students were wonderful, Cole,” her mom says.

“Thanks.”

Rayne leans in toward me. “Don't know if you saw him, but Drew was sitting way in the back of the room near the door. The second you were done playing he practically raced out of here.”

Drew.
Hearing his name makes me feel unsettled. He's tried to get me to see him in the past couple of weeks, but despite the
guilt I feel about how things ended, I always refuse. Drew is gorgeous and kind, and I know his only flaw is that he loved someone too much. Unfortunately, that someone was just a ghost from the past, and I can never be the person he wants me to be. One thing I do know is that he isn't the type to stay just friends. Better for everyone if we stay far apart. So what was he doing here?

Mom comes up and gives me a hug. “I loved your performance, honey. And it looks like that little blond girl is going to give you a run for your money.”

“I'm not competing with anyone, Mom. Olivia's just my student, that's all.”

“I know, I'm just joking,” she says, bending down so that her lips are close to my ear. “Besides, you were much more accomplished when you were her age.”

“Seriously, Mom. Stop it.”

“Okay, okay. How about we all go out for ice cream to celebrate?”

“Maybe in a minute. I need to put some things in the practice room.” I turn to see Griffon standing behind me, red tulips in his hand, just like the last time he was at one of my concerts. It's been a month since the night we rescued Rayne, but I still feel the rush I always get when I see him, and I hope my face doesn't give me away.

“Am I too late to celebrate?” he asks.

I'm so unnerved by the sight of him that I say the first thing that pops into my head. “As usual.”

“I deserved that,” he says, keeping his eyes steady on me. “But I couldn't miss your big comeback.”

“And that was so nice of you,” Rayne says for me. She cuts me a look. “Wasn't it, Cole?”

I nod, temporarily out of words. This isn't the same Griffon who barely spoke to me the night we rescued Rayne.

“You know,” Rayne says, looking directly at Mom, “I'm really tired, so I think I'm going to skip ice cream for now. Plus, Peter's coming over later this afternoon.”

Mom picks up the thread. “And I just remembered an appointment I have in less than half an hour.”

Dad just looks confused. “What appointment? It's Saturd—” Mom doesn't give him a chance to finish before she elbows him in the ribs.

“An appointment I didn't tell you about,” she says to him through clenched teeth.

I'm mortified because none of them will ever win awards for acting, but Griffon just smiles. “If you don't mind, I'll make sure you get home.”

“That would be great,” Mom says with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. “Let Dad have the box and the bamboo plant.” She takes the pink cake box from me and stares at the flowers in Griffon's hand.

“Oh—these are for you,” he says, handing the bunch to me. “Thanks,” I say, slightly mystified at the flowers and the smiles. I'm not sure how to feel at this point.

“We'll take those too. I'll make sure they get in some water,” Mom says. “Keep your phone on, and don't stay out too late.”

“I won't,” I say, giving her a hug. Apparently all it took was one career-ending arm surgery and seeing someone way too old for me to get her to lighten up.

A whirlwind of hugs and good-byes, and Griffon and I are alone. I point vaguely to the back of the theater. “I have to go put this music away,” I say, holding up the folders in my hand.

“I'll come. If that's okay.”

I nod, but can't think of a single thing to say.

We walk toward the back room in silence, dodging the students and their parents as they put their things away and head toward the door. “I hope you don't mind that I showed up like this,” he says.

“Free country,” I say, knowing it sounds bitchy, but I can't help it.

“Janine told me you were playing again.” He glances at me. “I couldn't miss your triumphant return.”

I allow myself a small smile. “Just a student recital,” I say. “Hardly triumphant.” I point to an open door. “In here.”

We walk into the practice room just as Zander is putting his music stand away. “Hey, it's the Etch A Sketch boyfriend!” he says with a slight sneer. “Are you getting any yet?”

Griffon looks surprised and slightly amused, but I've finally had it with this kid. I can deal with a lot, but Zander is working my last nerve. “Knock it off,” I say.

Zander shrugs, and as he moves, I catch a glimpse of something under his polo shirt. I reach for the chain around his neck and pull out an ankh—a silver one with a black stone and hieroglyphic writing around the edges.

“Where did you get this?” I demand. It's the same ankh that Veronique gave Rayne, I'm sure of it.

He brings his eyes up slowly to meet mine. “I found it,” he says, a challenge in his voice. Zander turns to go, but I grab him
by the arm to stop him, and that's when it all comes crashing over me in waves of emotion and powerful Akhet vibrations. An essence so dark and evil that I have to look away from its center. I get images of death and the taste of blood and a craving for power so complete it blocks out almost every other emotion. I drop my hand as though I'd been burned as a sly smile creeps over Zander's lips.

“He's Akhet,” I say to Griffon, who takes a step toward us, not totally sure what's going on.

“Akhet?” Zander repeats innocently. “I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just a kid.” He grins, his features momentarily looking much older than his eight years. “A little boy you can say anything in front of, whispering your secrets into your phone because he's not paying attention.” He waves his hand in a strangely adult gesture. “And even if he was, he wouldn't have a clue.” He stares at me in defiance. “Isn't that right?”

I think back to that time during his lesson when I'd talked to Janine on the phone. I'd told her all about Veronique and the formula while Zander was right there. Listening to every word. “You did all this?” I say in disbelief.

Zander takes a step so that he's inches from me, his light brown hair flopping into his eyes. “You can never take back what Veronique started. Once the genie is out of the bottle, it stays out.”

I grab his arms with both hands, rage practically blinding me as I pull him off his feet. “You almost got Rayne killed!” I shout at him, digging my fingers into his arms so that he can't wriggle free. “We need to take him to the Sekhem,” I say to Griffon, my words coming in a rush. “They have to know—”

“Mama!” Zander screams, in a high-pitched little-boy voice so different from the one he was just using. He kicks his feet and wriggles in my grasp.

Griffon's hands are on mine. “Let him go,” he says, calmly but firmly. “You have to put him down.”

I hesitate and Zander wrenches himself from my grasp just as his mother appears in the doorway, her face full of concern. “What's the matter?”

Zander takes one glance back at me and then rearranges his features into the picture of innocence before he turns back to his mother. “Nothing. I'm ready to go. Can we get ice cream on the way home?” Hearing him sound like a normal little boy makes me want to scream.

“Of course,” his mom says, taking him by the hand and leading him out of the room. She looks over her shoulder at me. “See you Monday.”

“No!” I reach for the door again, not willing to let him get away, when Griffon grabs me around the waist and holds me back.

“He's gone,” Griffon says, gripping me tight. I hear anger in his voice, but more than that, I hear resignation. “In his current state, Zander is untouchable.”

I try to twist out of his grip. “But he can't be! That's crazy! You can't just let him walk out the door like that.” I slide down the wall to the floor and put my hands over my face, my whole body shaking. “We need to lock him up. Make sure he doesn't have access to anyone again.”

Griffon sits down next to me and puts one hand lightly on
my shoulder. “There's nothing we can do to him. At the moment, he's an eight-year-old boy.”

“But you saw him! He's
not
just an eight-year-old boy. That thing is pure evil.”

“And thank God we now know who and where he is,” Griffon says. “Just because we can't do anything to him doesn't mean we won't be watching him carefully. He made a huge mistake by revealing himself to you just now. The greatest danger of an essence like that is when you don't know where they are.”

“Can't you just get rid of him? Make it look like an accident or something?”

“For what?” Griffon says. “So that he can come back ten years from now in another body that we don't know about, stronger and angrier than ever?”