Resurrection (11 page)

I must find a man, a prophet named Jacob who lives somewhere near here.

Pablo closed his eyes in concentration. Finally he nodded and opened his eyes.
He's waiting for you. He lives a few miles away to the east. I'll guide you, in your mind
.

I will be back as soon as I can,
Armand thought, laying a hand on Pablo's skinny shoulder.
I will not leave you here. It might be better if you keep the reason that I've gone to yourself.

I know. I agree.

Armand turned, made a hole for himself through the wards surrounding the camp, and slipped into the night. Once out of earshot, he abandoned caution and began to run. The farther he got from the camp, the greater the sense of urgency.

When he came to a small village, his feet guided him around it and to a house well past it, secluded and private.
Gracias, Pablo.

He stopped, out of breath, and stood for a moment. Then he walked slowly up to the front door of the house, only mildly surprised to see that it stood open. Inside he could see into a back room where an old man sat at a table laden with two cups filled with steaming liquid, and a single candle for illumination. He was gaunt, with a long beard, and was wearing a weathered sweatshirt and a pair of tan trousers. His feet were bare.

“I've been waiting for you, young man,” he said in French.

“Jacob,” Armand whispered, walking inside and closing the door behind him. “How did you know?”

The old man chuckled. “Prophet, remember? Or have you forgotten that as well?”

“As well?” Armand asked as he seated himself at the table.

“You were just a boy when we met, but I promised you we would see each other again. One might say we have unfinished business. Have some tea.”

As Armand sipped his tea, he marveled at how with a few simple words Jacob had seemed to transport them back through time. Once again Armand was the wide-eyed child, eager to learn, to ask questions and to be told his future.

“Why did you choose to follow both the Hebrew God and the Goddess?” the old man asked, staring intently at him.

“I felt like there had to be something more out there. I wanted to know everything I could.”

“Then why didn't you become Buddhist as well?”

Armand felt himself flush. “I guess I found what made sense to me, and…”

“And you didn't feel the need to keep going with your quest.”

“I guess not,” Armand admitted.

“You like the mystical, the supernatural.”

It was a statement, not a question. Armand just dropped his eyes to his cup, wondering if he was about to be scolded.

“You had the misfortune to come up in the church at a time when these things were frowned upon, discouraged.”

“Yes,” Armand admitted.

“You would have done well as an exorcist, or a healer. In this technologically driven world of ours, though, there is very little place for faith, let alone the miraculous.”

“I have often thought that,” Armand said.

“Of course you have, and so you went looking for something more exciting.” He smiled, his lined eyelids crinkling like venetian blinds.

Armand opened his mouth to protest, but Jacob waved him off. “You did not see how you could be yourself inside the church, so you left. It happens to many.”

“I don't see what you're getting at,” Armand said. “What I need to know right now is—”

Jacob took a sip of tea, peering through his lashes at Armand. “You have demon problems, yes?”

“Oui.”

“They are getting worse since you have set yourself up as one who can banish them, correct?”

Armand nodded.

“Then you should know they will only get worse. Soon the Dark One is coming to destroy the earth. The demons also sense this, and it makes them both bolder and more afraid.”

“You mean, Satan is coming?” As Armand spoke the name, the tea in his cup froze to ice.

Jacob stared at him long and hard before giving him a tiny smile. “You're not asking me to explain; you're asking me what to believe. That, as always, is your choice. But, no, the Dark One is not Satan. He goes by many names, but that is not one.”

Jacob touched Armand's cup, and the ice changed back into steaming tea.

“I'm not sure that makes me feel any better,” Armand murmured.

“It shouldn't. Terrible things are coming, and what you have seen is only the beginning.”

“What must I do?”

“You must fight.” Jacob leaned forward and took both of Armand's hands in his. His grip was strong. His frail appearance was deceiving. Appearances so often were.

“You have been assigned a role in this since before your birth. The powers beyond us always have plans for us. However, you can only fulfill your destiny if your heart is undivided.”

“What do you mean?” Armand asked, even though he was afraid he knew the answer.

Jacob gripped harder, as if trying to press answers into Armand's flesh. “You must choose. You must follow either the Hebrew God or the Goddess. If you try to serve both, you will not have the focus you need and you will be one of the first to die.”

Armand trembled, and Jacob released him. “Which must I choose?”

“That is up to you, but you must do so quickly and without doubt.” He drank another sip of tea.

“How do I do that?” Armand was baffled.

Jacob closed his eyes, and the expression on his face reminded Armand of the look Pablo had when concentrating especially hard on a distant voice he alone could hear.

“The time is coming when a choice will be presented. Then you must make it, and swiftly.” He picked up both their cups and scooted out his chair. “But now you must go so that you are not missed.”

Armand had so many other questions, but the prophet raised his hand as though to stave them off. Reluctantly Armand stood and bowed.

Jacob bowed back. “I salute you, pilgrim,” he said.

“Would you come with me?” Armand asked him.

“If I could, I would. But I have a battle of my own,” Jacob replied. “Now go.”

Armand left the small house and with a heavy heart turned his steps back to the camp.

He knew something was wrong when he was still about a mile away. He felt as if he heard the whisper of shouts on the air.
Pablo, can you hear me?
he thought.

There was no answer.

He began to run.

Seattle, Five Years Ago: Nicole and Eli

It was the first day of high school for Nicole Anderson and her twin sister Amanda. Nicole was jazzed! Of course, Amanda was her usual quiet self. It was too hard to tell what went on half the time in her sister's head.

No big. Life was for living, not worrying. Still, when lunchtime came, she dutifully found Amanda in the cafeteria and sat with her, just like she had promised her mom she would. It was only the first day, and besides, wherever Nicole sat, her best friends, Kat and Steph, would follow.

“So, how's it going?” Nicole asked Amanda. “Any hot guys in your classes?”

Amanda sighed. “So far, just lots of homework. But I think I'm going to love my math class.”

“Gag me,” Nicole said, grimacing as she slurped her diet soda. “I'd rather take six periods of PE than—”

Whoa.

Across the room the hottest guy she had ever seen was staring
right at her
. Dark bedroom eyes, long dark hair. Amazing. She let her lips curve into a smile around the straw, realized that was kind of, um, sexual, and made herself look away. She knew how to play the game. She'd been playing it for years.

“Who's that?” she asked, lowering her voice.

Everyone at the table turned to look, then turned back.

“That's Eli, Jeraud Deveraux's older brother,” Kat breathed. “A senior.”

“He's trouble,” Steph said. “My brother says his family's into some really weird stuff. Like devil-worshipping or something. But his dad is totally hot, for an older guy.”

Trouble.
Nicole smiled. She liked the sound of that.

Across the room Eli Deveraux was still staring at her, and he started smiling too. Even though he was all the way across the noisy cafeteria, she was sure she could see right into his eyes and lose herself in them….

“Nicole! Nicole!”

She jumped and turned to Amanda. “What?” she snapped, irritated.

“What are you saying?” Amanda demanded.

“What do you mean?” Nicole grabbed a french
fry off Amanda's plate, swabbed it in her ketchup, and ate it.

Amanda batted her hand away. “Just now you were staring at Eli and you were saying…something. I couldn't understand you.”

“It sounded French,” Kat said, stealing a french fry from Amanda too.

“I don't speak French,” Nicole said, annoyed with all of them now.

“Are you on drugs?” Amanda cried. “I am so telling Mom—”

“I am not on drugs,” Nicole said.

“And if you're so hungry, why don't you eat your own lunch?” Amanda continued.

Nicole glanced down at the table and realized she hadn't eaten a thing.
How did that happen?
she wondered briefly. She crammed a bite of turkey sandwich into her mouth and washed it down with the rest of her soda.

Then the bell rang. As everyone scrambled, she looked over toward Eli.

He was gone.

When they got home, she was big-time going to lecture Amanda about distracting her when she was in flirt mode.

Finding her a boyfriend would do wonders for my love life,
she realized. A second later she dismissed it. They
had only one class in common, and after today they didn't even have to eat lunch together.
I so should have been an only child. I'd be great at it.

Nicole fidgeted through the rest of her classes. She couldn't stop thinking about Eli. There was something so powerful about him. She closed her eyes and envisioned his broad shoulders. She imagined what it would be like to run her fingers through his dark hair and kiss him.

Her algebra teacher droned on and on, and Nicole started checking out. It was her last class of the day and she was hoping that she'd be able to catch a glimpse of Eli before he left campus.

Eli.

So gorgeous.

Eli.

So dangerous.

Eli.

That name didn't seem to suit him, though. There was another.

She was standing in the back of a different class, his class. She could see him staring out the window. Was he thinking of her?

Can you see me?

Suddenly he turned around and looked right at her, right through her. Her skin felt as though it were on fire. It was all so…familiar.

The bell rang and she snapped awake. For a moment she was disoriented until she stared down at her piece of paper. There she had written
“2x + y = Eli.”

She blushed and scratched it out quickly before stuffing her notebook into her bag. She was going to have to move fast if she hoped to see him before he left school. Everyone else had filed out by the time she made it to the door. She ran so hard right into a broad chest that she had the wind knocked out of her. She looked up and melted into Eli's eyes.

“It's you,” she whispered.

He looked a little puzzled, but he nodded anyway.

His eyes were more intense than she had even imagined them.
So very Deveraux.

She brushed the thought away. Of course, he was the first Deveraux she had actually met. She had seen his younger brother, Jer, but only from a distance. Amanda had made Mom drive by his house when they were twelve.

Oh, my God, was Amanda crushing on Jer?

“You want to go somewhere?” Eli asked.

“Anywhere,” Nicole said.

They started walking toward the student parking lot, and Nicole found she couldn't take her eyes off him.

“Nicole, I've been looking for you,” Amanda snapped, running up and grabbing her arm.

“Not now,” Nicole said through her teeth, shaking her off. “Tell Mom I'll be home late.”

Amanda was pissed, but Nicole didn't really care. Amanda was always pissed.

A minute later Nicole was seated in Eli's low-slung black Corvette, and all thoughts of her sister vanished.

He drove her to the park by the library. Pine trees swayed in the autumn wind. They got out and walked a short way on the gravel path, looping past the statue of Chief Seattle, not speaking. He stared at her the entire way. She stared back.

Finally they stopped and Eli wrapped his arms around her. When his lips met hers, her body jolted as though shot through with electricity. He must have felt it, too, because he pulled away and again gave her that strange look she couldn't quite fathom. Everything about him seemed so right, so familiar.

“Do you believe in reincarnation?” she asked.

He shook his head.

“I don't either, but I feel like I've known you for a very long time and l—”

She stopped short as she realized she was just about to save “love you.” She shook her head to clear it. No way was she saying that before he did, and especially not the first time they hung out.

He was staring at her in a way that made her feel dizzy, off-kilter. He had mad flirting skills.

“And what do you know about me?” he asked.

His eyes seemed to trap her. Her heart pounded. She knew she wouldn't want to deny him anything. He leaned closer to her and squeezed her tightly.

“You're trouble,” she said. “That's what I heard.”

He laughed, and kissed her long and hard. He used his
tongue
. She had never done that before, and she thought her legs were going to collapse out from under her.

He was a
senior.

“What else?”