Tempted by Evil (11 page)

Alexa Casey.

Although not entirely certain what I had done to perpetrate the hatred emanating from her very pores, I could most definitely feel it. I tried to tell myself that she just didn’t like the fact that I was dating her baby brother, but something told me that it went beyond just that. As I took my seat next to Julian, the family began passing serving dishes and bowls around the table until each person had a plate full of food.

Everyone except Alexa.

“Lexa,” Constantine began with an air of sternness in his usually calm voice.

“Daddy,” she cut him off before he could finish his sentence and glanced from him to me, “Don’t start. I’ve lost my appetite.”

“Alexa, dear,” Felice chimed in to the conversation, a charming smile plastered to her face, though her eyes were pleading. “This is a
family
dinner.”

“Precisely,” Alexa snapped. “So why is there a non-family member here amongst us?”

Feeling for the first time as though I were an outsider in Julian’s home, I stood to leave, only to have a hand grasp my wrist and pull me back down to my chair.

“No, Aspen,” Julian said through gritted teeth, glaring at his sister. “You belong here.”

“I’m afraid I don’t agree,” I nearly whispered, debating whether or not to attempt another escape from my seat.

“She does not,” Alexa countered, staring Julian down. “She isn’t one of us.”

And finally, the truth of her feelings for me was out in the open. Alexa didn’t like me because I wasn’t like the Caseys. I didn’t come from money, status, or a prominent family, and there wasn’t anything I could do to change it.

“
Go
,” Constantine growled from across the table.

I didn’t look at him as I stood, feeling sick to my stomach. My gaze drifted to Alexa, looking smug as she sat in her high-backed chair.

“Not you, Aspen,” Constantine continued. “
Alexa
, you’re excused from dinner until such time as you remember how we treat family.”

Scooting her chair out with a heavy sigh, Alexa spat, “You choosing her over your own blood speaks volumes.”

With those words, Julian’s sister stalked down the hall. The slamming of the front door punctuated her exit.

“I’m so sorry,” I breathed to the rest of the Casey family as I reluctantly sat back down.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Constantine spoke softly again, his warm brown eyes bringing comfort.

“Not at all, dear,” Felice interjected. “We are the ones who should be apologizing for our daughter’s rude behavior. I don’t know what’s gotten into her.”

“She’s jealous of the time I’ve been spending with Aspen,” Julian stated. “When Alexa feels threatened, she lashes out. She’s always been that way. Give her some time and she’ll come around.”

“I hope so.” I spoke the words aloud and truly meant them, but doubt was the superseding emotion playing in the situation. Something told me that there was no way Alexa was ever going to accept me.

Dinner with Julian and his parents was terrific, and when we were finished eating, they introduced me to my first game of Monopoly. Technically, I had observed a group of sisters playing it once at the convent before Mother Superior had thrown it into the fire while calling it a “wicked game enticing us to a life of greed.”

I played the thimble while Julian was the car, his mother the top hat, and his father the ship. Julian and his father were natural moguls, conquering the board piece by piece. His mother was more interested in the family dynamics of the game and explaining to me how every move related to something that happened in Julian’s childhood. When Julian sneaked Park Place out from under Constantine to have a matched set with Boardwalk, Felice told me it was just like the time Julian secretly organized a “fundraiser” for school and raised $700 for a new bike.

It was the most fascinating game I had ever played. We laughed, drank hot cocoa, and ate cinnamon rolls for dessert. The icing on the enticing pastry took the sting out of losing my first game of Monopoly to Julian. Felice said not to let it bother me, that there was no way I stood a chance against the heir to Maine’s largest shipping company. Julian just smiled his boyish grin at me as if he weren’t the son of a king, and, as silly as it sounded, I felt like he thought he might be looking at his princess.

*

Getting comfortable was an immense chore that night as I tossed and turned in my large bed. For some unfathomable reason, I found myself longing for my small mattress from the convent for the first time since I’d left. Perhaps it was the evening’s events that were overwhelming me and causing me to wish for a simpler, less dramatic time in my life. It was still a shock that Julian’s parents had chosen me over their own daughter when it had come to that. I couldn’t imagine what I had done to make Alexa despise me so, but whatever it was, I hoped she would forgive me and choose to put it behind her.

Feeling my eyelids growing heavy, I finally gave in and closed them, allowing the darkness to wash over me. Sleep was not far behind. In my dream, I looked up to find myself standing in the vestibule in the cathedral of Sisters of the Sacred Heart. The room was in vivid color, the stained glass reflecting the candlelight from the chandelier beautifully. I glanced down at myself and discovered that I was once again wearing a white communion dress, complete with satin, chiffon, and lace.

As if led by some unseen force, my feet began to walk effortlessly down the aisle toward the front of the church. The act reminded me of an eerie version of the wedding march without the music from the pipe organ or the guests smiling at me from the pews with warm affection. Fear suddenly radiated through my body and my hands began to tremble. I tried without success to get my feet to stop or to move in the opposite direction, but it was in vain. I had no control over myself whatsoever.

Prisoner to whatever power held me, I moved forward by no will of my own until I finally reached the altar. My knees automatically bent into a kneeling position and my head forcibly bowed. It seemed like I stayed in that pose for an eternity, but, eventually, I felt the tension fall off of me and I knew I was free to move again.

Lifting my head first, I was taken aback by what I saw. A faint white light emanated from behind the altar and immediately drew my eyes upward.
Father!
His ghostly luminescent form stood protectively next to the inky blackness that was my mother. Tears welled up and spilled over and I didn’t even care. I wouldn’t risk blinking for even a single second only to lose them again as I had before.

“Mom? Dad?” I nearly whispered for fear that anything would cause them to vanish before my eyes. They remained still, the curls of my mother’s darkness always attempting to penetrate the light of my father while his glow ever cast her in shadow.

Finally, my mother spoke.

“Aspen, the Shadow seeks to control and consume . . . ,” she said softly. “Open your eyes.”

At her words, my parents vanished and a dark mist began to fill the nave, and it was difficult to see anything from one side of the cathedral to the other. Panic rose in my chest. I couldn’t think or breathe, and tears flowed freely down my face. I was frozen.

The sound of shrill screaming woke me from a dead sleep. Untangling myself from my comforter, I climbed out of bed to find that I was drenched in sweat and my throat felt raw. It was then that I realized that the screams I’d heard had been my own.

I was once again dreaming of my parents.

Sitting back down on the edge of my bed, I attempted to recall every detail of the dream. My mother had spoken to me this time, and I remembered her words with perfect clarity.
The shadow seeks to control and consume. Open your eyes.
I sat on the end of that mattress for what seemed like hours, trying to decipher the code that was my mother’s message. All I had to show for my efforts were legs that fell asleep in their tightly crossed position. Who was the Shadow that sought to control me? What was I blind to? By the end of all my reasoning, I was no closer to formulating an answer than I was in the beginning.

I finally gave up and came to the conclusion that if I was to have the answers to the numerous riddles popping up around me, I would get them when I needed them or not at all. I’d lived my life that way up until I left the convent, and I figured it wasn't the time to start doing things differently. Though I was still uncertain as to the meaning of my mother’s words, the underlying message was received. An air of foreboding surrounded me. But, because of her, my eyes were wide open.

Julian invited me to breakfast with his sister the next morning, but I passed in favor of an excursion down to the docks. I couldn’t imagine being in the presence of the girl who, just the evening before, had refused to eat in the same room with me. It seemed to me that Julian and his sister could use some time to themselves. Besides, something about watching the boats sail in and out of the harbor had a calming effect on me, and I needed some time to myself.

The crisp breeze on my face made me feel alive as I walked along the path, my hands stuffed tightly in the pockets of my jeans. Billowy clouds allowed the sun to peek through occasionally, stealing away any hint of chill left by the wind. I almost wished I had grabbed my gray hoodie to put on over my white t-shirt on my way out the door.
Almost
. The feel of the warmth on my skin was worth the momentary cold.

As I made my way down to the water, I decided to forego my usual routine of perching on a wooden bench for a more adventurous course of action. I bypassed the docks altogether and continued up the trail until my eyes discovered precisely what they had been seeking. I smiled with the anticipation of a child as I took the last few steps, inhaled deeply, and jumped down off the trail onto a huge gray rock not too far below. Giggling as I stood unsteadily from the crouch I had landed in, I extended my arms on both sides for balance. I turned my head back to the trail to see that my jump was not as impressive as I initially thought, and then looked forward in delight at the rest of the rocks, waiting to be conquered.

In reality, I knew that hopping around on a bunch stones was hardly a noteworthy activity, but I reveled in the idea of it. Whether it was because I had read about it so often in books as a childhood rite of passage or I had been denied the experience by virtue of my limited adolescent existence with the nuns, in that moment, I didn't care. Childish as it was, jumping on those rocks next to the harbor was another milestone in the quest for freedom I felt that I might be on for the rest of my life. My education in fun.

I laughed aloud as I thought about how ridiculous I would look to anyone who happened to pass by on the trail, pushing off a massive brown stone with my left leg and leaping with my right. Gloriously, I sailed through the air, but, as my foot made contact, I was ill prepared for the unusually slick surface of my chosen target. My right leg flew out from underneath me.

Every muscle in my body tensed as my arms clawed at the air around me in hopes of avoiding a crash landing. No such luck. I smashed hard into the rocks I had boasted of conquering only minutes before, hitting my head against one of the smooth giants on my way down. My attempt to sit up and assess the damage proved futile because my arm was throbbing underneath me. I looked up to see how far from the trail I had gotten and determine how challenging my retreat would be when I saw
him.

Merrick moved toward me with purpose, his sage green eyes never leaving mine. He easily closed the distance between us with two catlike jumps.

"Are you all right?" he spat at me, more a statement than a question as he bent down and began to visually examine me.

"Um . . ." I continued to stare at him, open-mouthed in disbelief, wondering at how he managed to come along when he did. "I think so."

"Why do you act like such a child?" he practically snarled as he helped me off my side.

"I was just having some fun. And I’m not a child," I whispered, hanging my head in shame and wishing I could just disappear. When I looked down, I noticed the trail of blood streaming down my left arm onto my pants. The sheer volume was alarming.

"What have you done?" he gasped, ripping his shirt over his head without pause. He looked fierce while he quickly bound the gash that extended from my elbow to my wrist. I stared intently, though the wound was no longer the object of my attention.

The muscles in his arms and chest hardened as he pulled the ends of the makeshift tourniquet tighter to stop the bleeding. I winced from the discomfort caused by the pressure and opened my eyes to find him glowering down at me.

"Can you walk?" he asked as he sighed audibly, extending his left hand out toward me.

"I think so," I replied quietly, holding my injured arm close to my body and rubbing my forehead with my other hand. "If I could just have a moment to get my bearings?"

"Think so?" he muttered while raking his hands though his disheveled ebony hair. "Fine."

As hard as I fought against it, gawking seemed to be inevitable with him around. The fact that he had removed his shirt in order to play hero opposite my damsel-in-distress was not helping. He was intimidating in both demeanor and size, with every muscle in his upper body clearly defined under his perfectly smooth olive skin. His body looked like nothing I'd ever seen before, simultaneously predatory and beautiful, and I found myself unable to look away.