touch (36 page)

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Authors: Melissa Haag

BOOK: touch
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Droves of attractively dressed girls promenaded from the
parking lot to the main doors, when we pulled in.  Many wore long dresses like
ours, but few compared to the elegance of the ones we wore.  I nervously
fingered the fabric of my dressed as Morik guided the car into an open space.

“We are going to
own
in these dresses,” Beatriz
giggled in the backseat easing some of my tension.  “Oh, look, there’s Ted!”

True to her word, she remained in the car waiting for Morik
to come around and open the door for her.  He helped me out last, wrapping my
hand around his forearm.  I needed the balance.

“Do you have the tickets?” Beatriz asked.  “And the note?”

“Note?” Morik questioned as we walked together toward the
entrance.

“You’re out of school and over eighteen.  In order to bring
you, I needed to ask permission from the school and bring a signed note from my
mom the day of the dance.”

He nodded, but didn’t comment.

Only a few lights lit the decorated hallway that led to the
gym.  Faculty stood outside the gym doors collecting tickets.  We waited while
the woman scanned my note.  Morik discreetly removed his hat at a look from the
principal.  I reached up to fix his hair ensuring his horns remained covered.

Ted and Beatriz glided in before us.  A photographer for the
school paper took their photo and I rolled my eyes.  Hadn’t we had enough of
this?

When Morik and I entered, I stared at the decorations in
appreciation.  Someone had spent a lot of time and a chunk of money to turn the
gym into a magical place.  More than I thought a high school dance warranted.

Long lines of silver cord dangled from the rafters.  Clipped
to their length lights flickered softly.  With the overhead lights off, the dim
twinkling looked like a starry night.  Lamps low to the floor and against the
wall under lit the room.  A DJ sorted through CDs at a small table surrounded
by speakers far into the gym.  Sheeted lengths of pastel-colored material discreetly
hid the folded up hoops, scoreboard, and cushioned wall mats finishing the
transformation of the gym into something else entirely.

“What do you think?” Morik asked giving me a moment to look
at everything.

“It’s beautiful.”

Off to the left, a table laden with elegant tiny sandwiches
waited for the malnourished.  My stomach growled.  A punch bowl stood beside
it.

He smiled and, taking pity on me, led me to the table.  I
gulped down a tiny sandwich and made room for a newly arrived flock of starved
teenage girls.  Several stopped me to compliment my dress.

The music turned from background noise to an opening slow
song.  Morik turned to me, circling me in his arms and we danced in the shadows
near the back of the room.  His fingers brushed the skin of my back.

“I love this dress,” he whispered.  “I’m glad I get to see
you in it again.”

I smiled at him while thinking of the wedding.  I hoped he
would see me in it again.

“You look very fine yourself,” I returned the compliment.

We swayed quietly to the music.  Wrapped in his arms,
watching the light play on his liquid silver eyes behind the yellow lenses, I
lost track of time.

He remained equally focused on me.  I wished we could spend
all of our nights like this.  Together and happy.  Worry free.  When he dropped
me off at school, I missed him.  I wished we had more time together and
resented that I needed to follow the rules again about the chant.  I missed
watching movies or playing video games with him after dark.  I wanted to spend
every moment with him.  And not just because I felt our time ran short.

No, I needed it.  He made me feel alive and loved.  Loved...

My heart seized heavily for a beat and then picked up a
faster rhythm.  It matched the fast beat of the music we continued to slow
dance to.  I’d wanted to know what I meant to him and what he wanted from me. 
I had the answer.

My eyes widened in surprise and I looked at him with renewed
intensity.  How hadn’t I seen it before?  His caring began the first moment he
touched me with Mr. Jameson’s hand and had grown into something more with time
we spent together.  He loved me.

The mark ignited like flash powder burning a new segment
into my skin.  I embraced the feel of it, while swimming in an emotional storm. 
Something in my eyes gave me away.  He pulled me tight to his chest and kissed
my forehead.  The music abruptly changed from a steady punk beat to a slow soft
symphony.

Standing in his living room still held tight in his embrace,
I leaned into him choosing a safer topic than the one swirling in my mind. 
“Did we just ditch Beatriz?”

“No.  I spoke with Brad earlier today.  He wanted to pick
her up from the dance.”

The heavenly aroma of food tickled my nose.  After a rushed
breakfast, skipped lunch, and skimpy snack, my stomach rumbled at the smell,
but I ignored it.

“Thank you for tonight,” I whispered.

His heart beat steadily under my ear and he placed a kiss on
the top of my head.  We continued our slow sway dancing to the soft music.

Knowing he loved me, and the subsequent burn of my new mark,
filled me with guilt.  It should have led to an epiphany of my love for him,
but instead I hesitated delving too deeps into my feelings.  I still wondered
what loving him, truly committing myself to him, would mean.  He didn’t expect
kids, but wanted my time.  He liked my family, but only Belinda’s deal tied him
to this world.  Could I choose him knowing I would eventually give up my
family?  I wanted to say yes.  I wanted to be so selfless as to give them a
chance for freedom through my choice, but something in me stuck on the fear of
losing them and I didn’t know how to get rid of that fear.

I felt horrible for not giving him something in return for
his love even though he didn’t ask for anything.  I lifted my head.  His dark
eyes met my gaze.  Brown threads swirled within the black void proving his
complete contentment of the moment.

Cupping his face in my hands, I gave him what I could.  “I’m
so glad you found me.  I didn’t know it then, but I know it know.  That was one
of the best moments of my life.  It always will be.”

A pained noise escaped him a moment before he set his lips
to mine.  He kissed me softly, sweetly.  My heart flipped over and my skin
tingled.  My stomach twisted.  Waves of heat alternating with chills swept
through me.

My stomach growled again.  I willingly ignored it, threading
my arms around Morik’s neck.  He, however, heard it and pulled away.

When he shifted to the side, I saw a small table in the
dining area that used to stand empty.  Two elegant place settings sparkled on
the white tablecloth.  A shallow bowl rested in the center.  Tiny flowers
floated on the surface of the red water.  Already the flowers’ petals streaked
with color from the dye in the water.  Changing.  Like me.

The flickering of several candles caught my attention.  A
long taper stood in each window stuck to the sill with wax.  Outside the softly
lit window, I caught the flicker of green and knew Ahgred watched.

“It’s very pretty,” I commented turned back to Morik.

“So is your new mark,” he murmured.  The brown fought for
dominance in his gaze and won.

He smiled and led me to the table.  I didn’t like knowing
Ahgred watched us, but hid my nervousness.

Morik helped me sit and then went to the oven.  He reached
in and pulled out two plates covered with old time silver domed lids.  Probably
relics from his cave of wonders.

“Careful,” he cautioned, “the plate is hot.”  He set both
plates on top the charger plates already on the table and removed the domed
lids with a flourish.

A tiny little bird, with its crispy brown legs stuck
straight in the air, did the dead man’s float in a shallow pool of white
sauce.  A fluffy hill of rice rescued the crossed spears of asparagus from
drowning.  Flakes of green dusted the sauce.  Tiny shreds of yellow sprinkled
the rim of the plate.  It looked delicious and smelled divine.

Morik set the domes on the kitchen island and joined me.  I
waited for him to sit before dredging a forkful of rice through the sauce.  It
touched my tongue and I groaned.

“This is so good.  When did you learn to make this?”  I
quickly took another bite.

“I didn’t.  Lurel prepared this.”

That didn’t stop me from forking in another mouth full. 
“Please tell her this is heavenly.”

I caught him watching me as I worked my way through the rice
while peeling tender juicy pieces of meat from the bird.

“I didn’t eat much today,” I mumbled around my cloth napkin
while checking my dress.  The sauce didn’t like my fork, but thankfully, it
stayed away from my dress.

His brows drew down.  “I apologize for that.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said eying the picked over the carcass
on my plate.  It really was a tiny bird.

“I let your grandmother know my plans for dinner.  She
promised she wouldn’t let you eat too much.”

That explained the skimpy crackers.  “It was worth it.  This
really was delicious and special.  Thank you.”

He stood and took both of our plates to the sink.  “Do you
have room for desert?”

Did I ever!  “Always.”

He laughed and carried over two smaller plates.  Each held
an individual pie.  Thin slices of apples had been artfully arranged before
baking to form a perfect blooming flower.  Brushed with a glaze the tart
glistened.  A dollop of cream topped with a sprig of green waited on the plate
beside the tart.

“Lurel?”

He nodded, and I picked up my fork.  “Is she really your
sister?” I asked before taking the first bite.  The buttery flaky crust melted
in my mouth.

“No.  She was the one created just before me.”

Her reference to him as her brother made sense then.  I took
another bite.  The tangy apples played with my taste buds.  The tart
disappeared, and I sat back with a sigh.

“Gran would love to take lessons from Lurel,” I said with a
content sigh.

“Lurel is too… captious.”

Yeah, I could agree with that.  “Too bad.  Gran would have
been impressed.”  I inspected the dress again for any wayward buttery crumbs.

“There is a bag for you on your bed if you’d like to
change.”

I looked up and caught his amused gaze.  “That might be a
good idea.”  He stood when I stood.

In the bedroom, I discovered not clothes, but pajamas. 
Hopes high, I quickly changed.  I’d thought after dinner he would return me
home for a postponed chant.  I detoured to the bathroom to wash the makeup from
my back as best I could and peek at the mark.

The two lines spun together in an artful twist ending just
short of my neck.  So close.  I needed to ask Mona about her policy on body
art.  Soon, with any luck, it would show when I pulled my hair into the usual
ponytail for work.

The angry stub of red at the base of my spine pulled my
attention.  I tugged my shirt down over the marks and left the bathroom.  Time
was too precious to waste.

Hearing sounds coming from the kitchen, I found Morik
cleaning up the remains of our dinner.  Watching him stand before the sink,
hands sunk in dishwater, barefoot, dressed in flannel sleep pants and a tee did
funny things to my insides.  Padding toward him, I grabbed a towel and began
drying.

Time flowed around us in quiet harmony.  Last dish dried and
put away, he took my hand and with a grin led me to the game console.  We
competed against each other in a racing game until my jaw cracked with a wide
yawn.  No wonder Gran hadn’t appreciated his driving the day he rushed to
school for me.

“Time for you to sleep,” he said softly turning off the
game.

The clock flashed one in the morning.  Six hours of sleep
before work.  I probably should have cringed at the thought, but instead
focused on the fact that I would be sleeping next to Morik.  Not the unnatural
sleep I despised, but the kind where I could snuggle against him throughout the
night.

I nodded and willingly took his hand.

*    *    *    *

The touch of his hand gently running through my hair woke me
with a yawn.  I didn’t feel like I’d slept at all, but the soft light pouring
through the bedroom window told the truth.

“What kind of price would there be to roll back time to give
me two more hours of sleep?” I mumbled grumpily.

He laughed softly, but answered seriously.  “Time isn’t
something we can change.  Even chaos has its limits.”

Sighing, I opened my eyes.  “What time is it?”

“After six thirty,” he hedged.  I flew out of bed, and his
laugh followed me.

Grabbing my bag, I closed myself in the bathroom for five
minutes.  When I emerged, the house stood quiet.  Leaving my bag and dress in my
room, I grabbed my jacket from the front closet.

Outside the front door, I heard the scrape of a booted foot.

Smiling, I opened the door on a shocked Brian.  His hair
stood out wildly.  The cold stained his nose, cheeks and ears red, but the rest
of his skin looked sallow.  His glassy eyes twitched and shifted trying to see
everywhere all at once.

“Brian, are you…”

I didn’t finish my question as I caught sight of a dull
black hand gun cut at sharp angles that he held so tightly in his hand it
appeared to bite into his skin.  Bile rose in my throat and a scream built in
my lungs as I scrambled back from the door, never turning away from him.

“Where is he?” he demanded in a high-pitched, panicked
voice.

The gun leveled with my chest, shaking violently.  His
finger twitched on the sensitive trigger.  Time slowed.  The gun jerked
backward as the boom of it filled the room.  Brian’s eyes rounded in horror as
did mine.  The scream that had stuck in my throat finally ripped free.

Morik abruptly appeared before me, facing me, his expression
sad and set as he immediately spasmed.  A fine mist showered me.  Morik fell to
his knees, a bloom of red spreading on his chest and then collapsed to the
floor.

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