- •I’m definitely blushing now from his compliment. “Fittie,” that’s like extreme hotness. I never think of myself that way. He must be a playa or something.
- •I go rigid when I hear echoing undertones in Reed’s voice. The student immediately leaves without a word. Reed’s green eyes shift back to mine as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
- •I can almost believe that he’s teasing me; if that isn’t the most ridiculous notion I have had thus far. “I just knew I was going to regret that question,” I mumble as I blush.
- •I stare at him in utter amazement. “Ha, ha, you’re funny, Russell. You know who I am,” I say, but I see by the look on his face that he is confused now.
- •I stare at it breathlessly before I find my voice to ask, “Russell, your necklace…” I want to reach out and touch it, but my hands are shaking, so I put them in my lap to hide them.
- •I see him smile for a second until he reads the serious look on my face, then his smile falters. “Ya do wut?”
- •I squeeze his hand lightly and reply, ““He’s more of a techie than a sportsman.”
- •I shrug, and say with a small smile, “Megan totally fell for it, too. It was worth the stink eye she gave me.”
- •I recognize it immediately as an ip address. “You got it! I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” I say proudly, reaching over and giving him a soft tap on the shoulder.
- •I could spot Reed from a mile away, even with his helmet and face guard on. It is the stealthy, predatory way he moves that completely gives him away.
- •I ignore his confidence in the fact that my knee is going to all but fix itself shortly. “Wouldn’t that be off the hook?” I mutter, and take another sip of cognac.
- •I frown at him while I nod.
- •I hesitate before saying, “But you haven’t done it yet, so one can only assume that you may have envisioned a scenario in which eliminating me is not advantageous?”
- •I turn to see my new professor hailing me back into the classroom. I walk back in slowly, unsure of why Mr. MacKinnon is singling me out. “Yes?” I ask.
- •I look away from him, replying sarcastically, “Well, you can tell jt and Pete for me that the next time they hold a knitting bee and gossip circle, I could use a new sweater!”
- •I give him a funny look, then explain, “Your vitals—your email and all of the websites you think you need to sweep,” I say, smiling at his anti-geek question.
- •I program my number in Freddie’s cell, and then giving it back to him, I look at Russell. “I was going to tell you,” I lie to Russell.
- •I take a huge bite of oatmeal and chew it demonstratively, “Mmmm…oatmeal…my favorite.”
- •It takes me several breaths to answer him because I have never seen him smile like that—it’s intoxicating, especially because I never thought he would smile like that at me.
- •I don’t look at him, but hold the stick tighter. “Because I need it,” I reply evasively.
- •It’s probably nothing to him if I get hurt. I mean, why would he care?
- •I rest my hand on his chest, before cautiously peeking around him. Coffee grounds litter the floor by the coffee maker. “Coffee?” I whisper.
- •I’m not disappointed; it is extremely dreadful to me when he says, “Destroying evil. Fighting the legions of the Fallen damned. I’m a soldier, Evie, an assassin…I told you that.”
- •I stir uneasily to see his face, asking, “But if protecting me will be dangerous for you, why would you take on that responsibility?” He’s crazy to get involved with me.
- •I sigh. “I mean, what are they like when you’re not fighting?” I probe, hoping to get a glimpse into his world.
- •It would’ve been much nicer to hear him say he was ecstatic that I exist, so I try to ignore his comment and ask, “So I can’t tell anyone?”
- •I sigh, “Do you want to come with me?”
- •I set my plate on the table next to Reed’s as he pulls my chair out for me. “Better?” he asks when I am seated.
- •I think for a second, and then say in disappointment, “Oh, yeah, I get that I’m a frustrating creature.”
- •I give a little shrug, “You probably would’ve made the second half, but the Kappas had to forfeit—it was a shut out,” I reply, grateful that there’ll be no second half.
- •I nod, feeling a lump forming in my throat. “So, are you saying that it probably thought that I was one of them—an evil spawn released on the world to destroy it?”
- •I think I really touched a nerve in Reed because he seems to want to say something else as his eyes argue with mine, but after a few seconds, he nods while he says, “Of course. Goodnight, Genevieve.”
- •I try to smile back at Owen, but I hear two sets of growls, one from Reed and the other from Russell. “Thank you, Owen,” I reply, but I’m on edge now, waiting for the next shot to be fired at me.
- •I almost smile, because as I glance around the table, everyone here looks to be feeling completely awkward. Everyone, that is, with the exception of Reed; he’s cool and removed from all of this.
- •I am about to leave but he holds my arm and says, “You should be with Russell.”
- •I let out a breath like he has punched me in the stomach. Holy Freaking Crap! He’s an angel! Don’t freak out—ask him his name, like you’re interested—buy time, I think.
- •I try desperately to reason with Russell again, “We have to help Reed!”
- •I stop kissing him. Straightening, I search his stormy-green eyes again. “But that’s cruel,” I murmur warily.
- •I take a step back from Reed, frowning at him because he knows his voice doesn’t work on me. “Reed…” I say, holding my ears, trying to get the ringing to stop.
- •I don’t get a chance to finish, because he is up rushing around again. “No, we go tonight,” he says as he continues to pack my things.
- •I frown. “Oh…” I breathe, trailing off.
- •I cringe. “I’m only half human,” I correct him softly.
- •I am startled by the angel’s soft, deadly tone as he says, “No, I think I will stay. Something very interesting just walked in.”
- •I shake my head. “I never met my father. I didn’t know that he was an angel until recently,” I reply.
- •I don’t even want to talk about their color, I think.
- •I swear, if he keeps doing that I might purr like a kitten. Don’t think about that right now, just concentrate!
- •Intense frustration shoots through me then as I open my eyes. “Why are you stopping?” I demand breathlessly, searching his face, which looks a bit too smug for my liking.
- •I pull Russell over to the sofa. Sitting down in the middle of it, I make Russell sit next to me. “Did they realize that you were watching them?” I ask him pointedly.
- •I’m not doing this well! He doesn’t understand. I have to do something, but what? I think in desperation.
- •I stop smiling when Reed says, “Evie, we really do have to leave Crestwood now. This place is going to be crawling with curious angels.”
- •In the morning, I awake to sun streaming in the windows of Reed’s guest bedroom. Reed is next to me when I open my eyes.
- •I interrupt him. “Why would my soul give you redemption? How do you know that it’s not evil and would bar you from your Paradise?” I ask him searchingly.
- •I wince at his words. “Purify it? How?” I ask him urgently.
- •I rest my hand on his arm pleadingly. “You don’t want to do this, Freddie.” I say, trying to reason with him. “You and Russell are friends. Russell loves you, I know it,” I beg.
- •I sniffle. “So…Russell’s alive?” I ask.
- •I shake my head. “No, not yet. I don’t want anyone but you right now,” I whisper honestly. “Is he okay?” I ask as Reed tucks the blankets back around me.
- •I sigh tiredly, rubbing my forehead. “Ugh, there is so much to do. I don’t even know where my books are,” I say unhappily. “I have to do well or I’ll lose my scholarship.”
- •I can feel my face paling. “Russell, Alfred is still out there. He still wants my soul, so you aren’t safe until we get him,” I say with urgency.
- •Intuition: The Premonition Series
- •I give Buns a skeptical look. I doubt that any of them would ever think I’m darling. “Pampering is for wimps,” I say, trying to make light of it all.
- •I look over at Reed and see him frowning. “Buns, can you find something else…something a little more feasible…tactically?” he asks.
I ignore his confidence in the fact that my knee is going to all but fix itself shortly. “Wouldn’t that be off the hook?” I mutter, and take another sip of cognac.
“I was surprised to see you tonight at the field house,” Reed says. “I didn’t know you played field hockey.”
“Oh, well, I don’t really…that is, I haven’t played before tonight. A couple of girls from my dorm asked me to come to their practice tonight to see if I’d be interested in joining their team. It sounded kinda fun so I went. I probably should’ve thought to borrow some knee guards along with the uniform, but I didn’t think it was supposed to get NHL out there,” I reply as an explanation.
“Who are your friends, the ones that asked you to join the team?” Reed asks, and then takes a sip of his drink.
“Buns and Brownie. They live on my floor. I think their real names are Christine and Kelly, but no one seems to go by their real names around here,” I smile.
“I’m familiar with Christine and Kelly. I’m just wondering why it is that trouble finds you so quickly,” he says, eyeing me pointedly.
“My knee was a fluke—” I begin, but Reed cuts me off.
“I wasn’t referring to the hockey practice. I’m referring to your friends. They are trouble. I don’t think you could find two more wildly out of control females if you advertised for them,” he states flatly, like he doesn’t approve of my choice of friends at all.
“I know, aren’t they wonderful?” I ask impishly, agreeing with his statement wholeheartedly. “I intend to spend more time with them as soon as possible.”
“Why, didn’t you just hear me tell you they are trouble?” he asks with irritation in his tone.
“Yes, and I got what you meant. But this is ‘set it off’ kind of trouble we’re talking about, not the dangerous kind of trouble. I’m aware of the difference. We’re just going to shake it up a little and see what falls out. I might get a couple of fines, and I say ‘bring it’ because what do I have to lose?” I ask him pointedly, daring him to disagree with me.
“Your scholarship, for one,” he replies calmly. “You could lose that quite easily if you step out of line.”
“Maybe, but you don’t know what I’ve been feeling lately.” I say quietly as I study the liquid in my glass so that I’d have something to look at other than him.
“What do you mean? How have you been feeling?” he asks, leaning forward as if he is truly interested in my answer.
I hesitate. Reed had helped me out tonight at the field, but I’m not sure what that means. Does it mean we have a truce? Could he and I actually have a friendship? Maybe we can begin to understand each other if we have some honesty between us.
With that in mind, I say, “I feel desperate, like I’m running out of time, but it’s even worse than that…it’s more like I’m running out of air. The girls are a great distraction from that, so I’m keeping them,” I say defiantly. “I feel like I’m on the precipice of something huge…something monumental, but I’ve no clue as to what it is, or what it means to me, or what I’m supposed to do. It’s all just this enigma swirling around and around me, and I’m ensnared in it, and there is no way out.” I drop my eyes from his because I feel hollow and raw.
Swirling the liquid around in my glass, I watch the tempest within it slowly lose its momentum and then come to a stop. Looking back up at Reed, I see that he’s watching me. Feeling like a tool for saying too much to him, I try to down the rest of my drink in one swallow.
When I am finished sputtering and gasping for breath from the fire of the alcohol burning my esophagus, I notice that Reed had taken my glass from my hand and replaced it with a glass of water. Taking a quick sip of the water, I try to breathe evenly again.
“All I’m saying is that you might consider making other friends who actually have an interest in getting an education,” says Reed as he sits back down in his chair.
“I do have other friends,” I sigh. “I have Freddie, and I have Russell; at least I have Russell when you’re not zapping him with your voice. Can you stop doing that to him, please? He’s here to play football and go to school. He doesn’t have anything to do with what’s going on between you and me.”
“You think that’s why he is here…to play football?” Reed asks me slowly.