Pieces of Hope (44 page)

“She
loves me,” Daniel whispered as an aside to Ethan, as if they were the best of
friends. “Can you tell? Only someone you love could get under your skin like
that.”

I
supposed there was some truth in what he’d said, but I hoped there wasn’t. They
glowered at each other once again, their hatred for one another glaringly
obvious.

“My
party
!” I reminded them. “Why do you two
act like I’m the last cookie in the cookie jar? Don’t you see it? This emotion
is more than what the circumstances require. I can feel the contempt pouring
out of each of you, and quite honestly, this is out of character for both of
you.” There was no response. They continued with their stare-down as though I
hadn’t spoken. Out of sheer frustration, I muttered, “Fine! Tear each other
apart. See if I care!”

I didn’t
mean it. I really didn’t. But as I stomped away from them, those simple words
seemed to unleash a caged fury in both of them. Something behind me—a crunch of
grass, a muffled thud—caused me to whirl sharply in their direction.

They
were hovering a few feet from one another, locked in place like two grizzlies about
to eat one another. I followed Daniel’s line of sight as he bore a hole into
Ethan, then followed Ethan’s back to Daniel. In a one-on-one in the living
realm, Ethan could have taken him easily—he was muscular but quick—but he
didn’t have the slimmest chance here, not with Daniel’s unique advantage. I caught
the slightest hint of Daniel’s thoughts, but reacted an instant too late.

Daniel
lunged at Ethan, clipping him hard on the edge of his shoulder. To Ethan’s
credit, though he wobbled a little, he took the first blow standing. Although I
wasn’t sure he saw it coming (and neither had I), Ethan didn’t even flinch on
that first strike. He wasn’t the slightest bit afraid.

Daniel
was unbelievably fast. Swiftly, almost imperceptibly, he yanked back his fist
and struck Ethan square in the eye. Ethan flew backwards several feet, landing
on a grassless patch of land that I hoped was more sand than stone. And he
wasn’t moving. My eyes flicked to Daniel. He was striding casually toward the
unconscious Ethan, a venomous expression on his face, and seeming to relish the
fact that he could do anything he wanted—
Here
.
His prey—his choice. I half-expected to see reptilian scales covering his body
and long sloping fangs as he sneered. But though he didn’t transform into the
monster that I imagined, that murderous look alone was enough to send seismic
waves of terror rippling up and down my spine. But I wasn’t afraid for me. I
was afraid for the object of his unblinking focus.

For
Ethan. I feared body and soul for Ethan.

“Daniel,
STOP!”

Time was
moving too swiftly . . .Daniel reached him now. Lifting Ethan by the collar he drew
back his fist a third time, an insane look of hatred contorting his features
into some unrecognizable form. Then, just before his fist exploded forward like
a bullet from a gun, he glanced at me—

I’d
never seen a look of murderous rage, but it wasn’t something I was ever likely
to forget. Deep as pitch, a deathly blackness smoldered in Daniel’s eyes. I
realized with a shiver that he longed for Ethan’s death and it terrified me
that he might actually succeed.

“NO!” I
roared at Daniel.

Before
the thought had fully materialized, I moved seamlessly, instantly, from the
spot where I had stood frozen in horror to Ethan’s side. Crouching beside him,
I extended my open palm as a shield. As Daniel’s fist continued on its
relentless trajectory toward Ethan’s face, I envisioned time halting, slowing
to an insane crawl. I imagined the face of a clock, the second-hand ticking in
half-time—

And the
instant this idea formed, it happened. Time slowed . . . Just as it had at my
accident . . . Just as it had at the Station in Charlotte’s presence. I could see Daniel’s
fist—tightly balled, his right thumb forming a solid loop over his fourth
knuckle—inching toward my open palm as if I were watching a movie
frame-by-frame.

But when
the thrust of his punch reached my open palm—instead of deflecting it—Daniel’s
hand and forearm slid inside me. My eyes flew wide, but there was something
more startling that occurred, something I secretly hoped only Daniel and I
would ever know . . .

At once,
I could both feel and hear Daniel’s thoughts, as if some weird melding of souls
was taking place. And I suspected—if the startled expression on Daniel’s face
were any indication—that he was experiencing the same thing I was. Love and
desire burned through me like fire devouring oxygen. My heart seemed to expand,
creating a deafening sound in my ears as it pounded everywhere at once. The
sensations were so overwhelming I feared that my heart might burst in response.
His pulse quickened, and I experienced his longing for me, his passion
consuming me like flames licking at dry wood. It all happened in less than a
second, but it seemed like a lifetime. Feeling violated, I reeled as I snatched
my hand forcefully from his, freeing my soul from his invasion.

Time
surged forward, clicking ahead at its usual pace.

Ethan
was still lying on the ground, conscious now, and heat flooded my face as I
wondered how much he had witnessed. Even now, as I gently reached out an arm to
help him up, the memory of it clung to me. With emotions rushing through me, I
overdid it and lifted him high into the air. He landed on his feet, dumbfounded
at my strength. But his intuition was strong, and I could see that he had
questions—or was it my guilty conscience that led me to think this? Daniel
wasn’t helping. He was wearing an enormous grin—the grin that I loathed and
loved—and it weighed heavy on my heart.

“My God,
Daniel—what if you had hurt him?” I spoke in a whisper; it was all that I could
manage.

“Does
what I feel matter so little to you?” His spine stiffened “Don’t you care if
I
get hurt?”

“No! I mean
yes!” He was thinking of his heart I guessed, and suddenly I was taken aback. “Of
course, I care. But the rules. They’re different for us here. You might
have”—the words came tumbling out—“killed him.”

“He
started it! Don’t forget that. I was only going to finish it!” Daniel burned
with rage as he made this proclamation, and I couldn’t figure for the life of
me what was behind it. Sure, I was in the middle of it. But there was something
else going on, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. I considered telling him
what a stupid thing he had done, though that seemed pointless at the moment—an
angry person was never a good listener. And if I were forced to admit it, I was
burning with inexplicable emotions of my own. However brief, our encounter was
just long enough to relive every memory. How they had rushed around inside of
me! In that temporary instant of physical connection, I remembered how much I
had loved him and how much he still meant to me. Our love felt as real now as
it had three years ago.

I must
have been staring at him absently, dazzled a little by the rush . . . I’m sure
I wouldn’t have missed it otherwise. But when I finally came out of my haze, I
noticed that Ethan was no longer at my side. I searched quickly, discovered him
backing away slowly in astonished disbelief. He was completely unaware of the
danger he was in.

I took
several steps toward him, my hands coaxing Ethan back. “Please don’t move,
Ethan. You’re very close to the—”

I heard
the crumble of earth and stone as it broke away from the edge. No earthly ears
could have heard it. Ethan certainly hadn’t. And I screamed.

Disbelief
turned to disaster as Ethan lost his footing and fell backwards off the cliff.
Clawing and scrambling in mid-air, he struggled to grab hold of anything solid.
But for all his struggling, he only managed to twist himself into a downward
dive. His face a contorted mask of fear, I couldn’t move to help him. It was
Ethan’s terror, I realized. I was feeling his fear and it was paralyzing me.

Suddenly,
ebony wings filled the darkened sky, and
Gavriel
swooped down like a graceful, souring eagle, snatching not Ethan—but Daniel,
and tucking him like a package beneath one arm. Daniel’s expression was a
mixture of fear and disbelief. Mine was one of outrage.
     

“Aren’t
you going to do something?” I shouted hysterically as the Powers hovered before
me. “Ethan—he—he—” I could only point helplessly at his missing form.

“Young
Hope, we cannot intercede,”
Camael
said
sympathetically.

“FOR
GOD’S SAKE!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. “INTERCEDE!”

There
wasn’t time to ask where or why they were taking Daniel, or why—with all
 
their Divine powers—they resisted helping
Ethan. There was scarcely time to process the horror, let alone register my
options. My sluggish mind failing, I began to hallucinate. I’d imagined that
Gavriel
had nodded at someone in the darkness, someone I
couldn’t see, in the split-second before he flew away.
 

At that
precise instant, time halted. It didn’t slow. It came to an all-out dead
stop.
 

I wasn’t
sure how I knew it. I just did. Maybe it was because of the wind. It didn’t
billow anymore, whip my hair about, or slowly die down. It was utterly still.
There were tiny yellow specks of pollen suspended before me; I reached up and
plucked a piece out of the air.

A
little-girl voice, the strain apparent, called out to me, “Now, Hope! I’m not
sure how long I can hold it!” In the distance, I glimpsed Charlotte in the moonlight, her skinny arms
outstretched, face tensed, as though she were tenuously holding back the weight
of the world. The others stood beside her—
Creesie
,
Gus, Mac, Cat, and
Rin
—with resolute expressions,
believing with absolute certainty in Charlotte’s
gift. In the dusty recesses of my mind—a mind that seemed not entirely my own—I
recalled something about horrific consequences and time reversal when applied
to the living realm . . . Obviously, Charlotte must have believed the situation
was dire, and salvageable . . . or she wouldn’t have taken the chance . . .

I skimmed
over the side of the bluff, catching Ethan mere inches from the blackened
water. The rough waves were still, suspended in mid-air the way you’d see in
paintings or photos. Ethan was head-down, a resigned expression on his face,
arms pushed out in front of him, a last-ditch effort to protect himself from
the fall . . .

Useless
. . . It would have been so useless. I wondered how it would have happened.
Would it have been described as some sort of freak head injury? A birth defect?
Stroke? How would it have been explained that—when Ethan attempted to wake up—he
simply wouldn’t have?

I
grabbed one leg and shifted his weight beneath my arm. Surprised at the ease
with which I was able to move his body, I whisked him away to a sandy spot on
the narrow beach that looked soft and dry. Cradling his head in my lap, I
gasped. For the first time, I could see the ugly yellow and purple bruise
already forming over his left eye.

As time
returned to its usual pace, Ethan came to. His head and arms thrashed about as
if he believed he was still falling, and then he saw me.

“What
the hell, Hope?” Ethan was struggling to sit up. His head wobbled for an
instant, then it dropped back into my lap. He was pointing at something behind
me.
  

“Oh,
sorry.” Of all things to frighten him, my fluttering red wings did it? “I
forgot they were there.” Instantly, they disappeared.

“Are
those anything I should know about . . . or is that one of those questions I’m
better off not asking?” Shock had quickly turned surly.

“It’s
not really important.” I shrugged. “Just a talent in this realm. I have to tell
you, though, that I think you’re in for the black eye of the century.” I
attempted to touch the swollen mark, but Ethan grabbed my wrist and held it
away from him.
 

“What’d
you do that for?” he asked, his voice livid. “I could have taken him.” It took
me a moment to realize what he meant.

“Under
normal circumstances, you wouldn’t need my help,” I said softly, quickly
reaching the conclusion that more than his eye had been bruised. I stifled a
laugh—boys and their egos. “And if we were anywhere else, you’d be absolutely
right. You could’ve taken him . . . in a heartbeat.”

He
looked up at me then, dropping his hand as he clambered to a sitting position.
I gasped again. The bruise was already looking worse—with the purple turning
blackish at the edges, and hints of green inching its way in. If it looked that
terrible now, I could only imagine what it might feel like when he awakened.

He
scooted backward in the sand with his heels, his eyes slightly out of focus,
but wanting some space between us. “I only helped you because the rules are
different here,” I hurried to explain. “Because Daniel has separated from his
body, and because . . .
 
well, because
you haven’t, he could have . . . hurt you.”

“What
the—” Ethan burst into a litany of curse words, several of which I had never
heard strung together like that. “Killed me, you mean!” His face twisted into
anger. “I saw that look in his eyes same as you!”

I
half-nodded, not wanting to acknowledge that he would have tried kill Ethan on
purpose—and, strangely,
 
rose to Daniel’s
defense. “I’m sure it just got out of hand.”

Ethan
ignored that. “He knows about these rules, same as you?”

Eyes
down, I nodded slowly.

“But
back in the . . . in the living world as you call it
 
. . . what about there?
 
Are we on an equal playing field there?”

I knew
what Ethan was getting at, but I was hesitant to answer.