Intuition: The Premonition Series Page 12

  “Always,” I reply softly. Reed grits his teeth, pushing against the driver’s side door with his other hand, dislodging it from the hinges. It tumbles to the ground of the parking lot. Reed is out of the car in an instant, his wings spread broadly at his sides.

  I sit in the driver’s seat, looking at him for a moment as he paces back and forth, trying to regain control. He is absolutely awe inspiring with his bare chest and charcoal-gray wings powerfully displayed. I didn’t think it was possible, but I want him even more now. I see the sexy way he moves, like a caged panther casing the bars, looking for a means of escape. I turn away from him so that I can get a grip. I rest my hand on the automatic stick near the center console. In frustration, I grip it hard, pulling the lever right out of the gearbox.

  Reed is watching me with the darkness of desire still in his eyes. “Evie, don’t do that,” he says softly.

  “Why, you already trashed the car, Reed,” I reply in confusion as I crush the piece of plastic in my hand.

  “Because, I’m trying to calm down and that is so hot it makes me want you more,” he explains.

  “Seriously?” I ask with a crooked smile. He nods slowly. “Because I really want to crush something.”

  “I know the feeling,” Reed agrees, smiling a little and looking down. “You want to help me get rid of the car?” he asks, sounding a little better than he did a minute ago.

  “I love this car,” I sigh in regret, looking at the passenger seat that has toppled into the back seat when Reed had finally let go of it.

  “I will get you another one. You can even pick it out this time,” he says quickly, like I’m a spoiled child that he has to appease.

  I try to reassure him, “It’s okay. I just feel shady because it’s so pretty and new,” I say, getting out of the car and resting my hand on the frame where the door used to hang from the hinges. “How strong do you think I am?” I ask, watching him pull some of our stuff out of the back hatch. Then he pulls the plate off the back and sets it on our cases.

  “That is a good question,” he says, coming up next to me. He reaches in the car and pops the hood. The nearness of his body makes mine gravitate to him, as if he is a magnet pulling me.

  Reed works at removing all of the VIN numbers off the car, even the ones that most people don’t know about. When he finishes, he steps back, bracing both of his hands on the hood of the car and bowing his head. He is such a temptation with all of his sleekly defined muscles stretched taut against his perfect skin.

  The longing inside of me becomes so intense I don’t know what to do, so I turn back to the car and put both my hands on it. Pushing with all my might, two wheels on my side of the car lift off the ground as I pump my feet and give an extra shove. The car rolls over on its roof like an overturned turtle. When that doesn’t help, I bring my foot back and kick my beautiful car.

  Something is clawing its way out of me and I can’t contain it anymore. “I want.” I shout, kicking the steel panel of the Range Rover. I need. I long for. I crave. I am here. I exist. I have a right to be, I think the words in my head. “I want her to come,” I say intensely, continuing to beat on my car with my hands. “I want her to find me, so that I can make her feel the pain I feel. I want to be able to rip out a tree and throw it right back at her. I want to pluck branches off and throw them right at her heart. I will crush anyone who wants to take me from you. Pwnage, I swear it to you,” I say, turning toward Reed who is watching me silently. My wings are spread wide and they move agitatedly as I heave from the exertion of pummeling steel with my bare hands.

  “Just when I think I can’t possibly want you more, you go and raise the bar again,” he says quietly, staring at me across the small space. “Don’t do that again, I don’t know if I can take it.”

  “You like avenging angel?” I ask him in a curious and self-effacing way.

  “Uh huh,” he agrees, nodding with a pained expression.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “I wanted you before this, for who you are—so intelligent, brave— delicate and beautiful. But now, you have power and strength, too. Danger, thy name is Evie. You are something from a dream and I just want…” he trails off.

  “You just want what?” I ask.

  “Forever with you,” he replies, and then he turns to face the street when the sound of an engine grows nearer to our darkened parking lot.

  A minivan pulls into the lot and I can see Zephyr’s grim expression as the tailpipe rattles a little when he hits a small pothole in the pavement. Buns looks thrilled in the front passenger seat. When they pull abreast of us, she bounces out of the car, throwing her arms around me enthusiastically saying, “Happy New Year, Evie!” She lets go of me swiftly and turns to Reed, throwing her arms around him, giving him the same greeting. I hear a growl from Zephyr when he sees Buns hugging Reed, which makes Buns look at me with eyes as wide as mine. He loves her!

  Buns seems to glow when she releases Reed, smiling at me and saying, “We may not have fireworks, but we get to have a Car-B-Que. Are you ready to set it off?” she asks. She looks at the car, seeing the destruction and she adds, “You already started the celebration, huh?”

  Reed loads our cases and the plates and VINs in the back of the van. In a fraction of a second, he is by the Range Rover, reaching up and pulling the gas tank pipe from its housing, letting the fuel drip down the car. “Evie, you should get in the van now,” Reed advises me.

  Opening the sliding side door, I catch the look of disgust that Zephyr has on his face as he rips the fake plastic lei down from where it hangs on the rearview mirror of the van, tossing it out the driver’s side window. Then, Zephyr tosses a book of matches to Reed through the passenger side window. Buns climbs in the car, shutting her door as I move back to the bench seat behind the driver’s seat. We wait as Reed lights the match, throwing it on the gas that drips down the side of the car. The gas ignites and Reed swiftly gets into the van, shutting the door. We are out of the parking lot when the car behind us erupts in flames with a big bang.

  “Turn your lights on and slow down, Zephyr,” Reed says, sitting next to me. “Put on the cruise control, if you have to, but go the speed limit, just like a human.” I roll my eyes because humans speed, too.

  Twenty minutes after we have been in the car, my eyes begin to get heavy and I struggle to stay awake. I barely hear Zee say something about a fast approaching BMW with its headlights turned off. The car blows by us like we don’t exist, not even slowing up a fraction. The angels all look at me like I have solved one of the mysteries of the universe. I give them the see-what-I-mean gesture and snuggle into Reed’s side. He strokes my hair softly. Then, he leans down and whispers in my ear, “What are you humming?”

  I didn’t know that I was humming, so I have to stop and think about it for a second. “It’s a the song that was playing at the bar that I passed on the way to the diner. I don’t know it; it’s old. Um, the man sang something about running so that they won’t catch up to him… and he’s gonna have to keep riding…forever…” I say, struggling to remember the unfamiliar lyrics.

  Reed’s arms tighten around me. “It won’t be like this forever, Evie, I promise you,” he says, trying to reassure me.

  I fall silent and lay my head on his shoulder. “No. You’re right,” I whisper. “This can’t possibly last.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Soul Mates

  The world is fallin’ down on me. I can hardly breathe with Evie so near like this. I have to get out of here. It doesn’t help that I can smell her perfume from clear over here, I think as I gaze at Evie from my chair in Reed’s library. Lyin’ on the sofa with a book open in front of her, she is leafin’ through the pages like she is just skimmin’ it, but I know she’s processin’ every word of it with her expandin’ angel brain. Her body is curved in the perfect shape, draped on the sofa like a cat. I can remember holdin’ her perfect, naked body in my arms, but not in this lifetime, in our past lifetimes. Yeah, just thinkin’ the phrase
“past lifetimes” should be enough to question the reality of this situation. How am I gonna survive losin’ her? Maybe if I could get away for a while, go somewhere and be alone, I could get a grip on this. Or, maybe Zee will train me—beat up on me some more so I can focus on a different kind of pain for a while—pain that I can handle.

  “Russell, where are you going? Have you finished your assignment already?” Evie asks, smilin’ from the sofa. She stretches her arms, archin’ her back, seekin’ a new, enticin’ position.

  “I’m not done, but I’ve read the same sentence six or seven times already, so I’m thinkin’ I just need to take a break for awhile,” I reply, packin’ up my books and shovin’ ‘em in my bag.

  “Are your classes getting easier yet?” Evie asks with curiosity in her eyes. We are halfway through the second semester at Crestwood and I can’t wait for it to be over. School is so secondary to everythin’ else that’s happenin’ in my life that it seems almost pointless to me, but I continue to go to class ‘cuz it makes Evie feel better ‘bout our life.

  “Sorta, I understand the math problems in class before the prof gives the answers. I never was any good at math. I knew there had to be an up side to all this,” I say, tryin’ to make light of the situation.

  But, my words have the opposite affect. Her eyebrows draw down in a frown. She’s probably feelin’ guilty over the fact that I’m now evolvin’ into a creepy half-angel, just like her. “Hey, Thing One, stop worryin’ ‘bout Thing Two—I’m all right. I don’t even have to wear my earplugs anymore—see,” I say. Turnin’ my head, I show Evie that I’m gettin’ better at blockin’ out all of the noises that my heightened sense of hearin’ has been pickin’ up. I only need them when you and Reed start talkin’ ‘bout how much ya mean to each other. They come in real handy then, I think, pickin’ up my bag to carry my books back upstairs to my room. Well, the room I occupy in Reed’s house until we get Alfred.

  A flare of anger sweeps through me as I think of that little bug. Now that I’m evolvin’, I can’t wait for it to be over so that I can go out huntin’ that little maggot, Alfred. I want to be the one to kill him, to make him cease to be, as Zephyr explained it to me. Hell can be escaped if he can get what he needs—Evie’s soul, or mine now, too, for that matter, since I’m also becomin’ an angel-human hybrid. Alfred may not be aware that I’m still alive though, so he is more likely to go after Evie again. He also seems to be in love with the idea of possessin’ her soul. As soon as we get him, I can leave. I won’t have to stay here and watch Evie and Reed together anymore. To be a witness to their desire for each other is more than I can take, given the memories I now have, since almost dyin’ a couple of months ago.

  What an evil thing to have to live through: to be able to recall every lifetime with Evie—every first time I met Evie—every first kiss—every first time she allowed me to run my hands over the perfect curves of her body… Of course, she wasn’t always the girl in our past lives, so I have to try to block out those memories, too, because they are disturbin’ on so many levels.

  “Russell, will you tell me another story—you know, about us?” Evie asks, closin’ the book in front of her and lookin’ at me with that sexy smile that always hits me in the gut.

  “I was just gonna go and see if Zee wanted to do some more trainin’. I need to learn how to fight like them…” If I’m gonna have any chance of survivin’, I think the last part, but she follows my train of thought because the sexy smile is gone now and replaced by the guilty look again.

  “But, you’re still really soft, Russell. What if Zee hurts you?” Evie asks, and then she chews her bottom lip anxiously.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just have to ask him to be gentle with me, now won’t I,” I say. I’m tryin’ to make light of the fact that I haven’t yet acquired the armor-tough skin that’s an angelic trait, protectin’ them from many of the things that tend to kill a human.

  “Zee doesn’t quite understand the word ‘gentle,’” Evie replies sourly.

  “I noticed,” I say, rubbin’ my jaw where Zephyr had broken it several days ago while tryin’ to teach me to keep my guard up. It only took a few hours to heal, but somehow, that didn’t seem fast enough.

  “Come on, just tell me about one of our lives and I promise I’ll leave you alone for awhile,” Evie pleads. Her eyes get all shiny with anticipation ‘cuz she knows I can’t resist her.

  “All right, just one—” I start to say, but I’m interrupted.

  “Just one if it’s a good one. Don’t tell me about the ones like last time where we had nine kids and were living in an old fishing cottage and I ended up dying at sea and leaving you to all but starve. I mean nine kids…” Evie says, wrinklin’ her nose.

  “It’s not my fault ya couldn’t keep yer hands off me. How do ya think I felt givin’ birth to all of them and then havin’ to take up with the widower next door just to feed them after y’all were gone?” I reply defensively.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry. Just, can you tell me one where we didn’t struggle so much… one with a little less pain in it,” she asks hopefully. “Oh, and make it one that I’m the girl because it’s a little weird thinking of myself as a salty, crusty sailor with a penchant for whiskey…” she trails off with a sheepish smile.

  “That was just at the end there, ya weren’t always like that—y’all were sweet and—” I try to say.

  “Russell!” Evie say, smilin’ at my defense of her…uh him…her… whatever.

  “All right, I’ll keep that in mind…let me think,” I say, skimmin’ through memories of our lives together, tryin’ to find a romantic one that will satisfy her. “No…no, that one was hot but…no…nope… well ahh…no…okay here’s one…shoot, no maybe not…” I say, continuin’ to rifle through lives.

  “What’s wrong, Russell?” Evie asks in a soft tone.

  “Well, it’s just they all start off nice, but then…ya know…one of us ends up dyin’ ‘cuz that’s how life is—or was—now, I’m not so sure anymore. Supposedly, we aren’t gonna die—at least, not a natural death anyway,” I say. I’m glad we’re alone in the room, so I don’t have to make sure no one overhears us. Not that anyone would think anythin’ other than I’m a complete mental patient, but still, it’s nice that this is a private conversation. Except for the angels, they all know exactly what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.

  “Okay, I think I found one y’all might like. Y’all were a very, very, very beautiful lass…yer name was Aoibhe, which in Gaelic means beauty, so it was really lucky that ya were so beautiful, or else ya would’ve been teased a lot. Now y’all lived in the Scottish highlands in the year of our Lord 1147, well, that’s when I met ya anyway. It was the reign of King David I, so many of the abbeys in Scotland were bein’ built and there was lots to do for a man who was talented, like yer Da was.”

  “I like the way you said that, ‘Da’ like you were truly there,” Evie says.

  “I was, Red… and so were ya. These are memories, not stories,” I reply, somewhat frustrated ‘cuz I can tell she’s still in denial ‘bout the fact that we were really there.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry… it’s just you sounded like you were Scottish there for a moment and it made it so real,” she replies. “You know Gaelic then?”

  “Yeah, I guess so—twelfth century Gaelic anyway. Now, anyway— where was I… you were a Campbell and yer clan was smack dab in the middle of the Highlands. I was a Duncan, which ya won’t know, but we were lowlanders and, bein’ the third son of a wealthy family, I was shipped off to foster with my mother’s people. They were Campbells as well. Y’all startin’ to see where we’re headin’?” I ask her, seein’ the smile formin’ on her sensual mouth.

  “What do you mean by foster?” Evie asks.

  “Oh, that’s when ya go to another clan and train as a squire and learn to fight so that eventually you can become a knight,” I explain.

  “You were a knight?” she asks, her eyes shinin’ again and an amused smi
le is quiverin’ in the corners of her mouth. “Like…in shining armor.”

  “Well, no, the armor we had was different then, not so shiny, not so much metal,” I reply, amused myself. “We were more like soldiers.”

  Evie begins shakin’ her head, tryin’ to process what I’m tellin’ her. “So how did we meet?” she asks.

  “Well, I’m gettin’ to that—let’s see…Oh, so I was shipped off to the Campbell’s in the Highlands when I was ‘round sixteen and I was not too happy ‘bout it, since I had a girl that I thought I was in love with back at home. She was verra pretty, but not like y’all are. Y’all looked like ya look now, only yer hair was more fiery red and yer eyes were more blue than gray and ya had more freckles ‘cuz y’all would not listen to yer Da when he said ya should wear a wimple ‘cuz ya were a heathen child. But, y’all didn’t look like that ‘til later. Ya were only twelve when I met ya,” I explain.

  “Russell! What were you thinking, going after a twelve-year-old girl?” Evie asks, lookin’ appalled.

  “I didn’t go after ya! Y’all went after me! I couldn’t get rid of ya. Y’all followed me ‘round all the time—y’all were always makin’ somethin’ for me and tryin’ to get me to take it from ya. Ya drove me crazy,” I say, smilin’ at her playfully, rememberin’ her at twelve.

  “Oh, well… that’s a little more understandable…” Evie comments in relief, before she asks, “What’s a wimple?”

  “It’s a piece of fabric ya use to cover yer hair and ya fasten it in place with a circle of metal, called a chaplet,” I explain, watchin’ her face puzzle over the foreign head coverin’.

  “Wow, that’s weird—okay go on.” she smiles.

  “Yeah, well, one day I’d had it with ya. I told ya that ya had to stop followin’ me ‘round and that I was never gonna take another token from ya. I was in front of all of my buddies, ya see, and it was embarrassin’ me. Ya got real quiet and ya said, ‘But I love ya.’ And me bein’ the mean sixteen-year-old kid I was, I told ya I was never gonna love ya back,” I admit, raisin’ my eyebrows at Evie who is lookin’ at me as if I’m an ogre.