Revelation (9 page)

Asher exhales
, the air escaping in a harsh manner.

Ouch
. He looks relieved.

8
Realm Jumping

I manage to avoid
the St. Michaels for the rest of the weekend and into most of the week. To my surprise, it was fairly easy to do. Asher hasn’t been in class and Abby and McKenna have been in and out of the suite. It seems I’m not the only one with avoidance issues.

The
day after my dinner with Asher’s family, Aria and I went for coffee and I told her bits and pieces of the dramatic evening.

“
Well, that’s not suspicious or anything.” Her response was followed by her suggesting an eighties movie marathon where we stayed in our pajamas, ate crappy food, and abided by one rule: we don’t discuss the dinner. It was perfect and I loved her for it.

Unfortunately
, my reprieve was short-lived. Now I’m forced to answer Aria’s interrogation while attempting to consume my lunch.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a really large, scary
, rabid dog,” she asks for the sixth time.

“Yes.”

“Because in your heightened state of panic, your eyes might have played tricks on you. Plus no one else on campus has seen it. Maybe the owner found it or the pound picked it up?”

“It. Wasn’t. A. Dog
,” I snap.

She
glances out the window onto the quad. “So they just said to trust them and not ask questions?” Aria looks as baffled as I feel. 

“
Yep. Oh, and to make matters even more disturbing, McKenna accused Asher of having been injected with my blood,” I say in a flat tone, chomping on a French fry.

Aria’s eyes widen. “WHAT?
WHY?” she squeals.

I sigh, forgetting I left that little gem out of earlier conversations.
“Finally, a fucking normal reaction to ridiculous. I thought I was on the crazy train for a moment,” I say. “I have no idea. Maybe I overheard that part of the conversation wrong. That seems weird, right?” I scan Aria’s face.

She
gives a pointed glare. “Um, yeah. Aside from being fucking creepy, it also sounds impossible. I mean, how on earth would Asher get a hold of your blood? For that matter, why would he need an injection of it?” She contemplates this. “Oh, maybe they’re vampires?” Her eyes dance with excitement. “You know, they’re all rather beautiful, tall, athletic, and they all have those deep blue eyes.”

I give her my bes
t “shut-up” look. “First of all, vampires don’t exist. Secondly, they all ate chocolate cake and drank milk so they can’t be.”

“How do you know vampires don’t drink milk?” she defends.

“I thought they drank blood not milk,” I retort.

She thinks on this for a moment before her eyes go wide. “Don’t look now but Abby and Kenna just walked in,” she
speaks in a low voice.

I look.
Why do people always tell you not to look? They know you’re going to look
. Turning back to Aria, I push my French fries away, having lost my appetite.

“Good afternoon
, ladies,” Abby chimes cheerfully without missing a beat. Like the crazy ass dinner the other night didn’t even happen or we haven’t been avoiding one another all week.

McKenna just shoots daggers at me. What else is new
? I roll my eyes at her. Ignoring Abby, I grab my bag. “See you later,” I nod to Aria and head to architecture...with Asher. Could this day get any worse?

***

I walk into class and scan the lecture hall then exhale my relief that Asher isn’t anywhere in the room.  Just as I start to get comfortable, that familiar heat worms its way into my veins, alerting me to his presence.
Crap
. I pretend not to care, focusing on opening my iPad to take notes.

Asher walks up the stairs to his seat
. As he passes by me, his scent engulfs my nose, causing me to breathe him in. He doesn’t even glance at me. I’m not sure whether I’m relieved or saddened by that. I keep my features schooled and face forward, listening attentively to Professor Davidson.

Every so ofte
n, I can feel his stare. I hate that I’m so aware of him, where he is, and what he’s doing. Maybe I need a hobby. Or maybe he injected me with his blood while I was sleeping so he would affect me. I laugh at my own disturbing joke.

Professor Davidson sets up the
power point. He has pictures he’s excited to share.
Ugh, kill me now.
“Good Afternoon. Today we’ll begin our week long lecture series about thirteenth century Gothic architecture,” he drones on.

Sensing Asher’s glare again, I tighten my lips in an attempt to look as pissed off as I possibl
y can. This just increases the headache that is coming on. I rub my temples, trying to ease the pressure and refocus on Professor Davidson. Then my vision becomes a little askew.

Professor Davidson’s voice begins to sound as if I
’m in a tunnel, echoing in my ears. “Gothic architecture originated in France in the twelfth century and lasted through the sixteenth century. Its best-known application is throughout many European cathedrals and abbeys, as well as castles and palaces. It’s the architecture of the late medieval period distinguished by use of pointed arches, vaulted ceilings, and flying buttresses. Unlike Romanesque, Gothic is all about height. It’s also been well-documented that the Gothic period brought about grotesques and gargoyles.” I blink a few times to try and clear the fog that is settling in my head.

My lids flutter
, suddenly overcome with the need to close them. Of their own accord, they shut for just the briefest moment.

I’m standing in a lavish grass meadow surrounded by lush green weeping willow trees. Their branches drape elegantly, giving the impression of curtains, warmly wrapping me in the forest’s loving embrace. There are massive patches of wild flowers in white, soft pinks, and blues blanketing rolling hills, flanked by streams of crystal blue water.

As my eyes scan the area, I notice it’s snowing. No wait, my eyes lift to the sky and I realize
they’re not snowflakes falling. They’re white flower petals. Millions of white petals descend from the deep blue sky and lay elegantly all around me as I lift my hands to try and catch them. I can’t. Oddly, they dissolve on contact.

I am pulled from my wonder by the sound of giggling. I
look around the bright green canopy, absorbing the intense color of the flowers and crystal blue water. My eyes settle on little glowing lights that twinkle like stars. Curious, I begin to glide gracefully toward the pink, amber, and blue sparkling lights.

Just as
I’m about to reach out my hand to touch the spots of radiance, a vivid emerald light shines, causing me to squint my eyes and step back from the dazzling glow. When I reopen them, in place of the brightness is one of the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen. She’s so regal, like a queen who appears to be floating in air. I stand there, motionless, stunned by her beauty.

“Welcome
, Batya.” She bows gracefully to me, causing me to swallow and step back.

“Please,
do not retreat. There is nothing to fear,” a warm, gentle, angelic voice sings to me from her soft pink lips.

The
hovering woman is wearing a deep emerald green Grecian dress that ripples in the air like water. Her bare feet, legs, and arms are adorned with gold rune tattoos that glisten and move on her skin. I watch them travel along their routes like snakes. She has gold bracelets on both her wrists and ankles and her eyes are the same color as her dress, which pop enchantingly off her peach and cream skin.

The ethereal being’s l
ong red hair flows down her back in ringlets that reach her waist. I am so spellbound by her, I almost miss her soft green, translucent butterfly-like wings that sparkle as they flitter in the air. I meet her gaze, absorbed by the glow around her as she smiles in a maternal manner, radiating light and warmth.

I’
m completely drawn to her. “W-who are you?” I ask, my voice in awe.

“I am Lady Finella,
Queen of the Fae Realm,” she says while motioning her hands all around us, signaling this is her kingdom. “And you are a most welcome guest, Eve Collins.”

My brows pull together.
“How do you know my name?” I ask, trying not to stutter.

She looks taken
aback before returning her face to a kind gleam. “Here, in the enchanted kingdom, we have been eagerly anticipating your arrival for many lunar cycles, Batya.” She bows with elegance toward me again.

“Um, okay. Why do you keep calling me Batya?”
I ask.

She pauses, tilting her head to the side while studying me.
After a moment of contemplation, she shakes her head in slow motion, back and forth, emanating sadness. “Your protector has not enlightened you at this time. It is with deep regret that I cannot offer you clarification. You must await his sermon.” She smiles as if she feels bad for not being able to explain more.

Suddenly, the little giggling lights come flying around me. I stiffen, unsure as to what they are or what they’re doing.

Lady Finella
laughs in a playful manner. “Do not be afraid, child. The sprites are only playing. They are tremendously lighthearted fairies.” She laughs again and it sounds musical while she shoos away the winged sprites. “In our kingdom, you are an honored guest. Please consider our realm a safe haven and home, should you ever need it.” She bends her head toward me again.

Confused as to whether I’
m in a dream again, or if this is real, I inhale for a split second and rub my temples. I close my eyes then open them little by little. “How do I know this is real?”

She stares at me. “The
fae realm is a magical kingdom. While inside the realm, fairies are not permitted to tell untruths. It is not physically possible. Our charms and magic would be revoked if we were to mislead you,” she says with great assurance.

I nod once and glance around at the greenery.
“I see. How did I get here?” I ask with confusion marred on my expression.

Her
look turns thoughtful. “Apologies, but I am not sure how you realm crossed. Perhaps you are commencing your ascension. These are rationales I am not at liberty to reveal to you until your protector has determined it is time for your enlightenment.” Her face is solemn. “I am sorry, child.”

“Who is my protector?” I ask
, taking a step closer to her.

Lady Finella just looks
intently at me. She tilts her head, listening for something within the forest. Her eyes close for a brief moment. When they reopen, she looks at me with a maternal gaze.

“
Forgive me, child. The trees tell me you are being called back to the earth realm. You must go.” Her smile is assuring.

I pull my face. “Wait, I don’t understand.”

“Do not fear, Batya. We will come together again before long,” she promises as she lifts her left palm flatly in front of her lips and blows, pushing out a soft breath of gold confetti Tinkerbelle-looking powder at me. Suddenly, my eyes feel heavy as the shimmering dust forces them to close and a falling sensation overtakes my body.

I jerk awake in my seat. Realization hits me instantly that the entire lecture hall is staring at me.
Shit
. I fell asleep during the lecture. Mortification crawls up my cheeks, tinting them pink as the professor looks at the seat roster, no doubt in search of the culprit who interrupted his riveting sermon. “Miss Collins, everything alright back there?” His voice is stern and annoyed.

Horrified
, I try to control my erratic heartbeat. “Y-yes. S-sorry, professor,” I stutter out in humiliation. With a final firm look, he turns back to the rest of the class and continues his lecture. One by one, the other students return their focus to him.

I sit there, b
rushing the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand as my chest heaves. My anxiety levels start to climb from both confusion and embarrassment.  My hand claws at my chest, trying to get my lungs to work because at the moment, they’re not getting enough oxygen in them. I need air. The walls are starting to close in and black spots are beginning to form in my vision.

Asher leans over
the empty seat between us. In a low, harsh whisper, he says, “Breathe.  Siren, look at me. You need to focus on me and breathe before you pass out.”

Good plan, breathing. How come I didn’t think of that?
I start gasping for air. Shit, I’m going to black out.

Panicked, Asher throws my iPad into my bag
then grabs my elbow, pulling me toward the back exit of the hall. My legs feel like rubber. He’s basically dragging me out of the building.

Once outside, he drops our bags and grabs my upper arms
, forcing me to stand. It’s not helping though. The dark spots are forming again so I close my eyes and grab his leather jacket in each hand, white knuckling it so I don’t collapse. Forcing my eyes to shut, I try to make the spinning stop. The air returns to my lungs at a snail’s pace.

“Why are you avoiding me?” I slur from a lax state
.