Veined (A Guardian of the Angels Novel) (7 page)

My laugh turned into a scowl as Laura snuggled into Attic’s side. He wrapped an arm around her and continued into the restaurant. “Stupid chair,” I said and stomped in after them, followed by Maddy and Marcus.

I sat at the end of the rectangular table nearest the window. Attic and Laura sat on the loveseat to my right and Maddy and Marcus on chairs to my left. It felt sort of odd being at the end of the table, like I was in charge or something.

Leaves, tendrils and tiny yellow flowers wrapped around the wooden trellis behind the loveseat. It would have been lovely, but the view was spoiled by Attic and Laura kissing. I averted my eyes and concentrated on the menu, even though I already knew what I wanted.

I jerked the menu closer to veil the view. The edge knocked a tall candle-stick. My reaction was slow; it was already falling off the table when my hands lurched out. I knew I’d never be quick enough, which was why I closed my eyes, waiting for the clatter as it hit the ground. After a few seconds and no clatter, I opened my eyes to see Attic lifting the candle upright and, miraculously, still lit. How had he caught that? Scrap that. How had he noticed my clumsiness when he was bumping lips with Laura
and
had time to turn around and catch it?

Too many questions.

Attic placed the candle stick in the middle of the table, out of my reach.
As if I’d do it again.

Relieved the waiter had finally come over, I gave him one of my best smiles. He blushed, whipped out a notepad and poised his pen. “May I take your order?” 

“One steak and fries,” I said.

“I can’t make up my mind,” Maddy said, looking at me for help. “I have it narrowed down to three options. Rump steak, veal or schnitzel.”

Before I could offer my opinion, Marcus whipped away her menu. “We’ll have one of each.”

After Attic and Laura ordered, the waiter scuttled off.

“So, not long till Twirp,” Maddy said, politely engaging Laura in conversation. “Have you got a dress?”

Ah
crap
. Maddy had been telling me over and over for the last month to make sure I organized something simply fabulous to wear. To stop the influx of reminders, I’d told her I had something that would knock even the girls off their feet. Of course I’d meant to buy something to make the falsehood true, but I’d forgotten about it. Not to mention, I wasn’t entirely sure if I’d formally asked Jason to go with me. I assumed since we were kind of going out he would.
Still another few weeks till Twirp. I’ll go shopping tomorrow.

A cool breeze circled the room, sending shivers down my spine. I glanced at the windows across the room, and stopped. Why had the restaurant suddenl
y gone quiet? I looked at Maddy. Her mouth twitched only a fraction every few seconds. Same with Marcus. Was my mind playing tricks? Why had everything frozen?

My heart was the only thing I heard, and it was beating so loud and so fast I worried it might explode. What was going on? I raised my hand to my head. At least I seemed to move normally. Cool fingers did nothing to help me regain control. I grabbed the jug of water, filled my glass and gulped it down.

A gasp propelled into the air as a stabbing between my shoulders spasmed my back into an arch. My head snapped back with pain. I looked directly into Attic’s eyes, his expression pained as if it was him, and not me, burning on the inside.

Somehow, focusing on his intense blue eyes kept me from screaming. No one around the table seemed able to see w
hat was happening to me. All pairs of eyes focused somewhere else, except for his. And I was thankful he was there. He had answers.

Colors swirled behind Attic and my breathing quickened. Everything darkened. I wanted to panic and become all hysterical, but there didn’t seem any point if no one could witness it. Alone, I couldn’t do a damn thing to change whatever was happening.

The pain, like a trail of poison, slithered further down, past my hips and through my thighs. I convulsed again, only the back of my chair keeping me from flipping off. Breathing through my nose and out my mouth like a marathon runner, I kept my focus on Attic. Except for his face and the pain in my body, I couldn’t see or feel anything. If he was the last person I’d see, I was glad I couldn’t hear a thing. It would have been such a pity if his gorgeousness had been marred by his tongue.

I wasn’t sure, because in that second everything went black, but I thought I saw Attic grin.

Darkness. My shallow breaths.

What the hell was happening? Another hallucination?

Color and definition returned. I felt myself move, but wasn’t in control. Someone shouted at me, but the front door of my Portland home trapped the words. I stood outside in the driveway, my palms balled tightly by my sides, hot spurts of anger flushing over me in waves. I thumped one fist against the garage door. “Dammit,” I swore as it throbbed.

I swung open the garage door, strode to the motorbike, kicking the stand with more force than necessary, and pushed it up the driveway. In a graceful movement, I swung the helmet to my head and buckled it on. Wisps of something gold streaked above me. I looked up but other than blue sky dotted with white clouds I didn’t see anything.

Adrenalin pumped through me as I started the motorbike and entered the street. The wind whipped against my unprotected hands, only my rage keeping them warm enough not to freeze.

It began to drizzle a few minutes into my drive, and I slowed down. The streets looked pretty in the rain, like flowers covered in dew, so fresh and alive. The flashes of rage inside me completely fizzled as the mixture of sun and rain sent a large rainbow into the sky. It was magnificent, and so close. If I was right, the end of it lay right around the next bend. 

The bike leaned into the curve and I accelerated coming out of it. I had almost straightened when a woman, with fiery golden hair twirling around her body, appeared in front of me. I’d had my eyes on the road the whole time. This woman hadn’t been there a second ago.

Raindrops hovered, reflecting rays of light. Red leaves falling from trees floated, as if the density of the amber air was too thick for them to sink. Everything—the street, the trees, the woman standing an arm’s length in front of me—dripped in gold as rich as a Klimt painting.

A smile extended on her face, and a wind I couldn’t feel whipped violently around her, tossing her hair upward as a gymnast would a silk ribbon. Her musical voice broke the spell that had me frozen.

“Sylva Lark. It has begun.”

CHAPTER 8

I SWERVED AND SLID.

Everything was a blur of color, although that didn’t last long as I shut my eyes. I thudded onto the road, the bike landing on my right leg, sounds of cracking bones and splitting plastic. A stabbing pain. Numbness. Clothes tore off me, skin would come next.

When my body stopped, my eyelids fluttered open. I could see the sky. Colors arched through it—brilliant reds, blues, and muted greens and yellows. I tried to move, but couldn’t.

So
this
was the end of the rainbow. No leprechaun. No pot of gold.

A shadow blocked my view. T
he nearer it came and the darker it got, the warmer I felt. “Let my family forgive me.” A sadness filled me. I was dying. Had to be. The last thing I’d done was run away from home. Fought with my parents.

A light shone before me and I blinked several times to adjust to it. A golden mane and matching golden eyes came into view. The woman I’d sentenced myself to death for. A wave of relief washed through me. Thank God she was alive.

Her expression looked serious, but her eyes filled with compassion. She smiled.  “As it is written, so shall it be.” She reached out and touched my forehead. The woman’s last words echoed as though down a tunnel. Blackness swallowed me.

“Gold, Silver
, and Bronze will merge again.”

Warmth cradled me. The sound of dishes clattering and people chatting could be heard in the distance. I felt like I’d drunk a lot of wine i
n a very short amount of time—slightly dizzy and totally relaxed, like I was floating. I breathed in. The scent was incredible. Fresh rain on a spring day.

Something soft stroked the side of my face and I sighed happily. “Don’t stop,” I slurred.

A sweet chuckle. “As long as it helps.”

As I recognized Attic’s voice, my insides bubbled.  I opened my eyes and saw his furrowed brows and teeth biting his bottom lip. A strand of rich brown hair slanted across his forehead, covering half an eye. I sighed and looked around. We were no longer at the table, but on the fainting chair in an empty lobby. My gaze landed back on him. “You’re even beautiful when you frown.” Did I say that aloud?

The concern on his face washed away and I blinked at the dazzling smile that took its place.

“You probably won’t remember saying that later. But I won’t forget. It’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” I went to speak, but he rested his finger on my lips. Even through his gloves, I could feel his warmth. “I’d love to tell you what I really thought of you, but I’m afraid the language might offend your precious little ears. Besides, they’ll wait for a more appropriate occasion.”

Why did he have to be so gorgeous, even when he was being mean to me?

I struggled to pick myself up off Attic’s lap, but he held me down with one hand as easily as if I was a piece of paper in the wind. Jeez, he was strong. “Stay still.” Although it was a command, his voice was rich with concern.

I gulped and rested my head back on his thighs. Like a whip to a horse, images lashed back to me.
The motorbike. The woman. Dying.

If Attic hadn’t braced me down, I would have flown off the chair. “What the hell just happened?”

He let out a deep breath. “It’s never happened so soon before. It should’ve happened years from now.”

The mark on my back kindled and, as sure as I was of myself, I knew the two things were related. “Attic, stop being cryptic. Does this have something to do with my mark? You owe me answers.”

His frown deepened a moment, then the corners of his mouth quirked upward. I started to scowl at him and he smothered the grin. “Lark, there’s a lot to explain. And I promise you I will. But first you need to rest.”

Rest? How was I supposed to rest when I’d just experienced some freaking scary hallucination? “What happened to me just now, Attic?”

Attic’s eyes glowed brighter as he bent his face toward mine. “You’re
very
special,” he whispered.

Special? Being riddle
d with pain and hallucinations—if that’s what they even were—made me special? He’d better tell me more than that. Grabbing his shirt, I pulled him even closer so I almost felt his lips when I spoke. “Tell me
everything
.
Now
.”

Attic closed his eyes and removed my grip. “It’ll take too long and it’s too draining to keep anyone from coming out here.”

I had no idea what he was blabbering about, but at his words I thought of my friends. “What do Marcus and Maddy think happened? And what in hell did they say when you carried me out of the room?” I was particularly horrified by that last thought.

“They don’t know a thing. They think you went to the bathroom.”

Before I had a chance to ask him anything more, his cell phone rang next to my ear. Attic reached into his pocket and answered. I took the opportunity to move away from him, wobbling a bit before getting my balance. Still, a small headache remained. I sat back down.

“Alyse? What’s up?” Of course it was a girl on the other end of the line. Did he even have any male friends? I couldn’t imagine he did. They’d probably hate him for stealing all the girls away.

Attic’s frown returned and he twisted away from me. “Are you sure? . . . The girl’s Phoenixed, I shouldn’t leave her. . . . That doesn’t work, you know that.”

He punched the low backing of the couch and I heard a rip. I jumped off it, torn between going into the restaurant to find Maddy and Marcus and shaking Attic until he told me what was going on. “I’m on my way up there, but I’ll have to make a quick stop first,” Attic
said and hung up.

I shuffled from foot to foot. “The girl’s Phoenixed? You were talking about me, weren’t you?”

Attic looked down and I could see he was trying to find the best tactic. “How are you feeling?”

What type of question was that?
Confused. Angry. Upset. Curious. Annoyed. Frightened.
He could take his pick.

“I mean,” he said, “do you think you can drive?”

“What’s Phoenixed?”

Attic looked at me and dug his hand into his other pocket. “Lark, it’s—”

The lobby door swung open and through it came Maddy and Marcus. “Here you are.” She looked at Attic. “Laura’s wondering where you are.”

“Give her my apologies. I have to be somewhere.” He brought out keys and tossed them to me. “We’ll talk tomorrow morning, okay?”

I wanted to complain, but how could I do that without rousing suspicion from my friends. 
You better tell me, and first thing.

The keys cut into my hand where I gripped them tight. “Wait. How will—”
you get home?

“Cab.” He sauntered out the door.

“He’s either fucking rich or he’s . . .” In the rearview mirror I saw Marcus shake his head again, the fifth time since jumping in the backseat. But it was hard for me to concentrate on anything except for what had happened at the restaurant.
He’ll tell me tomorrow morning.

“Crazy?” Maddy suggested.

I didn’t want Maddy or Marcus to think I’d slipped back into the depression I’d just come out of, so I forced a smile. “Not you, too,” I said. “What is it about a Porsche that makes it so special?”

In my peripheral vision I saw Maddy start to count on her fingers. “The 911 is the Audrey Hepburn of cars. Timeless and classic. It has super sharp steering, it’s sensitive to handle. Plus, it’s just awesome.”

I laughed. Did they hear how hollow it was? “I’m ashamed I’m the one driving. I don’t really give a hoot. In fact,” I lowered my voice so only Maddy would hear me. I didn’t want Laura, who was pretty pissed I got to drive, to big-mouth me to Attic. “If it were actually Attic’s car, I don’t think I’d mind if it got a little scratched.”

Maddy stared at me as if she were reconsidering our friendship.

“You don’t just lend someone your Porsche,” Marcus said. Again.

I hadn’t told them about what happened in the resta
urant. I’d claimed Attic was called to work suddenly, and since it was in walking distance he’d wanted me to drive the rest of us home. Actually, I was aware he hadn’t mentioned driving the others home at all, but I couldn’t just leave them there. I wouldn’t even have left Laura if it’d only been her.

“It’s not his car.” I slowed to wait at the traffic lights.

A choking sound came from Marcus. He looked from Laura to me, biting his lips as if holding himself back from saying something. As the lights turned green, he said, “If you weren’t my friend, I’d hate you.”

After I’d dropped them all off, and after there’d been a seriously awkward silence when only Laura and I were left, I went home and parked next to an American Elderberry. Birds visited the plant every day and the pavement surrounding it was covered in bird shit. I figured it was a pretty harmless way to get one on Attic without ruining his friend’s car.

I locked the car and headed up the drive. Every step the guilt grew. It was true Attic got under my skin, but tonight he
had
made sure I was all right after my hallucination. And he didn’t have to lend me the car. In fact, from everything Maddy and Marcus had told me, I got the feeling he really shouldn’t have left it with me at all. It also wasn’t his fault he had to leave before answering any of my questions. Plus, he did promise to tell me everything.

I headed back to the car. Dad’s cruiser wasn’t in the garage, so I drove the Porsche in front. It jerked to a halt and the angel hanging on the rearview mirror twisted, turning its back on me. I froze, staring at it. The wings were the same shape as the tattoo on the torn body. I shivered at the memory, about to look away, when something else caught my eye.

I grabbed the angel and switched on the car light. Where the two wings met was a ring with interlocking spirals. Exactly like my mark.
Just a strange coincidence.
It had to be.

Suppressing a shiver, I hung the angel back up. Jeez, I’d gone through so much weird stuff tonight that my mind was jumping to even weirder conclusions. I really needed to sleep.

I entered the house. Nobody was home. Dad was no doubt hard at work, and Mom and Jeffrey had a parent-teacher evening. I hung up my jacket. The frames on the bookshelf glittered in the evening light coming through the stained glass in the door. I glanced at them. The picture of me had gone. Probably fell down the crack at the back.

I didn’t care enough to retrieve it. The evening kept replaying in my head.
I shuddered, shut my bedroom door, and opened the window. I didn’t care it was cold. This way, I felt less enclosed.

My bed creaked every time I tossed and turned, irritating me to pieces. Each time my eyelids closed, I saw gold. I jerked them open again. My brain, pulsing with questions and hypotheses, was not helping.
He’d better explain tomorrow.

Close to midnight
, I’d had enough. Abandoning the bed and breathing in the fresh fall air, I slipped on some jeans, a sweater and black sneakers. Maybe walking would be the best medicine. I tugged my sleeves over my hands, holding the cuffs with my thumbs, and stalked out into the night. I didn’t have a particular destination in mind, I was happy to let the breeze make the decision for me.