Reborn (22 page)

From the very core of my being, I hated this man.

“Must we remain a divided soul?” he taunted.

Excalibur turned his head to the side and planted a big brown eye on me. He didn’t seem agitated. But the sorrow he expressed wedged deep inside my heart.
I’m sorry, Excalibur. I’ll get you back.

I tightened my jaw and threw my gaze back to the master of all this. “Get off my horse.”

His white-toothed grin made him look even more handsome.

“Last I checked, my dear twin, this horse is mine.” He laid a white-gloved hand on Excalibur’s neck. “His soul presents a gateway for me to slip in and out of this world, but I am still bound to the past, as you can see. Without him, I am condemned to your dreams. It was easy to capture him without those annoying Priestesses on guard.”

I thought back to Desiree’s apartment. They had been there, protecting her. Did he know?

“Go back to your pathetic life and leave me the hell alone,” I roared.

“The past wasn’t all bad. You just got a glimpse of the good old days. How was your most recent memory?” He leaned forward, crossing his hands over the horse’s back. “Miss Lillian Whitefield has nothing on your Desiree, though. That slender neck of hers you had the pleasure of kissing and those voluptuous curves and hollows begging to be handled… mmm. How can you resist taking her?”

“She isn’t mine to take. And she’s not yours, either.” Although I stayed strong on the outside, a sick feeling settled in my stomach.

“And what a quaint place she has.” His grin widened.

My heart stopped beating a moment, then pumped back to life with an adrenaline rush. The mist parted as I lunged for Solomon. But Excalibur reared, forcing me to stumble backward. The blackness swallowed me as I fell into the murk, losing my breath.

From somewhere above, a deep guttural laugh exploded from a man, as hooves clopped at a fast speed away from me.

When I thought my lungs would explode, a hand grabbed my arm, and then another, as someone hauled me out of the abyss.

The moment I opened my eyes, the city returned to normal. Crickets, a few late night motorists, and a sparse scattering of people returned, along with the night lighting. A face came into focus. It was dark, with only the whites of the eyes glowing at me.

“Dat was close. You okay now.”

Recognition of the voice came first, and then her form came into view as my eyes fully adjusted.

“Tilley.” I searched either side of the old woman, but all was quiet in the park.

She helped me stand.

“Thank you,” I said in a weakened voice.

“Don’t mention it. Now listen carefully.” She shuffled even closer. “Dat was no ordinary man.”

“You saw him? How can you see, when no one else can?”

“I see lots of tings. I see your lady friend grow up here. I see you pledge yourself to her earlier. I understand now. You have a true heart.”

“Yeah, I keep hearing that.” I wasn’t comforted. “What else do you see?”

“I see a long, dark road ahead of you, but dere is light, too. Always travel toward the light. Do whatever it takes to survive, but don’t dwell on the darkness or it will claim you. You understand? The glass if half full, not half empty.”

“I think so.” Precious time wasted away as we spoke. “Which way did he go?”

She pointed north. “The way he came.”

“I may still have time, then.”

I turned to leave. She grabbed my arm.

“The girl is safe tonight. Go home. Get some sleep. You’re gonna need it.”

How could she possibly know if Desiree was safe or not? Unless…

I looked upon the old woman, dressed in haggard clothing, with new sight.

“Go now, and rest your mind. Your troubles will be no more this night.”

On her last word, she disappeared into thin air, leaving a wisp of smoke behind. I watched, barely breathing, as that wisp headed in a long thin stream, toward Desiree’s part of town.

y new gift, or curse, of a memory, haunted me during the night. The little rest I did find was fitful. That one nagging memory tugged on the edges of my sleep, never allowing me complete rest. And with it came the realization of who I really was. In some cryptic way, I had known it all along. But even now, I wouldn’t admit it to myself. Maybe, just maybe I was wrong.

Something felt off when I woke to the sounds of heavy traffic—too heavy for morning. Groggier than usual, I rolled my head to the other side of the pillow and pried open my lids. 12:15 p.m., the clock on the night table screamed at me. I blinked and looked again, hoping my eyes weren’t yet adjusted to the light, but I was right the first time. Panic filled me, waking me completely.

Desiree. Was she safe? Had I failed her?

I bolted from the bed and rushed to the window, sliding aside the orange curtain. The city was alive and bustling, and I’d wasted half the day in bed. I had to talk to Desiree, so I pulled on yesterday’s clothes from the floor, and headed to the motel office.

Hot, sticky dampness clung to the air, filling my lungs with each breath. Above, dark clouds gathered, promising a storm. An ominous foreboding settled over me like a heavy blanket. Was I too late?

After two rings, Desiree answered, “Hey, it’s Des. Leave a message.”

“Desiree, it’s me… Desiree? Desiree!” After a period of silence, followed by a beep, the phone went dead. I had to see her, make sure she was safe. But I didn’t want to seem overprotective. What if she was at work, or out with a friend? Tilley told me she would be safe through the night. Tilley. I began to wonder if she was the cause of my oversleeping. Had she worked some mumbo jumbo on me? After thinking on what to do next, I decided to check on Excalibur; that way I could explain what’s been happening to Melba, and maybe ease the homesickness that had set in over the past week.

After a shower and a piece of toast, because my riled up stomach wouldn’t allow for much food, I took the bus to Melba’s, at least as far as the bottom of her road. The last two miles, I walked. The ominous cloud covering pressed down on me, and the humidity brought the sweat to the surface of my skin, sticking my shirt to my body. Melba’s house came into view just as the clouds began to rumble.

The darkened sky cast the usual cheerful yard in an eerie shadow. The grass needed mowing, too. My first order of business was the shed. Its emptiness sent a chill through me, despite the unbearable warm temperature. Frantic, I searched the yard for the big, white beast, yelling out Excalibur’s name at the edge of the woods. The sky answered back with a low rumble. When I came to a familiar path, I took it, running all the way to the river. Desiree’s bergamot was in bloom. I caressed the balls of lavender spikes with the tips of my fingers, releasing fragrant oils of a minty-citrus note, all the while, searching. But there was no sign of Excalibur, or fresh hoofprints.

Foreboding stillness prevailed. It wrapped around me like a smothering blanket, threatening to crawl under my skin if I didn’t get out of the woods. Coming back here was a mistake. Whatever this was, it waited for me. I gazed into the dark, rushing water that had once been so comforting. As the whitecaps broke over the river rocks, I felt the inevitable—something bad approached.

The trees swayed, but didn’t return to their natural position; instead, they breathed with new life. Their trunks creaked and groaned, snapping bark, as they inflated. Like slow-moving snakes, roots extracted themselves from the ground, hauling up dirt and crawling insects. The twisted shafts of wood slithered over the musty earth toward me. Branches turned into claws, reaching for me. To the north, a mesmerizing dark fog traveled through the woods. As I watched it approach at great speed, I began to feel queasy… lightheaded. This witchery felt more real than all the other supernatural encounters I’d had so far. I felt powerless against it. Sedated under the spell, as it intended.

Then a distant sound pulled me in another direction, away from this hideous nightmare.

“Solomon!”

The army of tree roots crawling along the ground halted their pursuit, as if listening also. Branches—still formed into claws, froze in mid-reach.

“Solomon?” The voice was louder this time. Closer.

Melba’s voice, soothing like a breeze over a fevered body, gave me cause to break from the spell and run. The advancing darkness chased me to the edge of the woods, where Melba waited for me.

“Solomon. Hurry!”

We didn’t stop or look back as we ran across her yard and up onto her doorstep.

“Do you see it?” I gasped out the words in between breaths, glancing from her to the dark curtain hovering behind the tree line.

Melba nodded, shooting a wide-eyed gaze toward woods. “I see the darkness that follows you.”

“I’m sorry. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have come back here.”

“I’ve felt the evil waiting for you, Solomon. I thought it took you last night when you galloped out of here on Excalibur.”

“That wasn’t me.”

“But I saw you ride into the woods.” Her perplexed look changed to one of knowing. “You mean…”

I nodded my confirmation. “So Excalibur hadn’t returned since then?”

“No.”

“That bastard has him.” The likelihood of seeing the horse again was slim.

As if to comfort me in some small way, Melba put her hand on my back. “Come in out of the heat.”

Once inside the door, she welcomed me with a hug, and then headed to the kitchen.

Ceiling fans kept Melba’s house slightly less humid than outside. I wiped sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and followed.

I talked to her back as she fixed two glasses of ice water. “I saw him last night.”

She turned to face me. “So you
were
here last night?”

“No. He found me.”

The lines in her forehead deepened.

“He rode Excalibur to the city, or appeared there with him. I’m not exactly sure which. I could see through him, as if he was only half there—a faded image of himself. He told me that because the horse was buried with him, he is able to use Excalibur’s body as a vessel and his soul as a guide to enter into this time period. He also said he needs… my body to make him whole.” I lied. I couldn’t tell her that what he really wanted was to kill her niece and drink her blood.

“Melba, I know now who I am.”

Her eyes widened with fear and wonder. She stood very still, as if not even breathing, waiting for the truth to pass through my lips—truth that I was sure she already knew.

“I’m not Solomon Brandt’s ancestor… I am he.”

A glass slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor between us, splattering water and ice in every direction. That same hand flew to the pendants she always wore around her neck. The other grabbed the counter as she fell against it.

“I know.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I didn’t want it to be true.” She looked up at me with sorrow and fear etched into her face. “You have to understand why I wanted to protect Desiree.”

“I guess I knew for some time, too,” I admitted. “What does it mean?”

She had to have answers.

Her forehead creased with thought. “So, he needs you to become whole.”

I nodded.

“Can he take you, or do you have to consent?”

“I don’t think he can take me, yet.”