- •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 look over at Reed and see him frowning. “Buns, can you find something else…something a little more feasible…tactically?” he asks.
When Buns turns to look at Reed skeptically, Zephyr, who has been sitting close to her, decides to contribute to the discussion. “Buns, honey, that is a bad call. Do you realize how many Fallen will be at an event like that? And Reed is right; it is entrapping terrain, which appeals to me if we did not have Evie. Maybe you and I can go next year and see how many Fallen we can end before the ball drops,” he says with a smug smile that has Buns smiling back at him.
“We’re getting out of Crestwood, that’s nonnegotiable,” Buns states flatly.
“Okay, but maybe we avoid huge parties—something with less of a crowd?” Zephyr offers and I catch Reed smiling a little as he watches Zephyr work on Buns and her sense of celebration. “You know, for Evie’s sake, not because you are not the best event planner we know.” He is really good at strategy. I will have to listen more intently to his dissertations on the matter.
“For Evie’s sake,” she agrees stiffly, turning back to the computer screen. She pulls up website after website in rapid-fire succession. “Okay, how about something a little more recreational?” she offers, and I see Zephyr’s and Reed’s faces light up with interest.
“Recreational?” Zephyr asks, squeezing closer to Buns to peer at the screen. Reed drops his hand casually on my shoulder, caressing it.
“Snowboarding?” she says, flashing us an impish grin. “There are a bunch of small hills with ski lifts in this general area that do midnight runs on New Year’s Eve. I’m sure there is something going on at one of them where we could either ski or board until sometime around midnight, and then head in to the chalet for a midnight toast,” she says, smiling as she watches Zephyr’s face light up.
“That is my girl!” Zephyr says possessively, scooping Buns up off of her seat and twirling her around so fast they becomes just an impression for a moment until he sets her back on her feet.
“It’s off the chain, right, sweetie?” Buns asks, turning to me, “What do you think?”
“Sounds amazing,” I reply.
“You are truly a force of nature, Buns.” Reed agrees, leaning forward and kissing Buns on the forehead, which makes her smile deepen. “Let’s decide the resort we are going to go to so that Zephyr and I can get some satellite shots of it, for strategy. Then, we will plan our assault on the slopes.”
I try to keep my face as neutral as possible and not let them see that there is a war going on inside of me. One side is rejoicing at the prospect of getting out of the house and living again, the other side of me is scared to death of what might happen once I leave the house. My heart must be giving me away because Reed pulls me into his arms. Hugging me, he says, “It will be okay. Nothing will touch you.” He presses his cheek to mine and the heat we generate is intoxicating.
“I’m looking forward to boarding. I can’t wait to see how angels can slay a mountain,” I whisper in his ear, letting my cheek brush over his in a caress.
“I was created to slay,” Reed replies with a smile that almost stops my heart.
“I found it!” Buns’s tone is smug as she swivels in her chair to face us. “It’s a five star resort a few hours north of here. It says they’re booked for the holiday, but we know what that means,” Buns laughs, swiveling back.
I glance at Reed’s face, then Zephyr’s; they both do seem to know what she means by that. “I’m sorry, Buns, does that mean we can’t go?” I ask in confusion.
“No, sweetie, of course not. That just means they only have the really killa suites left for the VIPs.”
“Oh—are we VIPs?” I ask, trying not to sound ignorant. This makes Zephyr laugh like I have made a joke. His eyes sparkle at me like he is waiting for me to say something else amusing.
Buns smirks, too, and replies, “You know it. Reed, get her a black card.”
“Already done. She just has not been anywhere to use it,” Reed replies.
“What are you talking about?” I ask in suspicion. I think I might know what it is they are saying, because I’ve seen the black credit card Buns uses to burn through cash like she printed the benjamins herself.
“I have a card for you. I don’t plan on us separating anytime soon, but you can carry it and use it however you would like,” Reed says, and frowns as he watches my mouth drop open. “What did I say?”
“I can’t take your money,” I reply, watching his face get darker.
“Why not?” Reed asks in confusion.
“Because it’s not right,” I reply.
“Why is it wrong?” he asks.
“Because it’s yours,” I reply evasively. Does he really not get that taking his money is completely grody?
“But, when I give it to you, then it is yours,” he says, smiling at me because he thinks what he is saying is logical.
“Buns, you get why I can’t take his money, right?” I ask, looking for help.
“No…it’s just money,” she shrugs, and I’m beginning to believe they are printing it somewhere.
“I have my own money, Reed, but thanks,” I say in embarrassment.
“Evie, you have a few thousand dollars—that is not money, that is…” he trails off when he sees me duck my head to hide my deepening blush of mortification. My house is for sale, but no one seems interested in it, since the previous owner was viciously murdered in it. Most of our things have been removed and put into storage, for which I will need to reimburse Reed when the house is sold. Although, I don’t think he’s going to let me. The funeral arrangements for my uncle had probably cost a lot, too, but no one will tell me who paid for it, or how much it cost. “I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Reed asks, trying to make eye contact with me.
“No…I just have to start looking into Internet gambling and see if I can beat the odds,” I reply, since there is not a lot I can do right now to earn money. Having a homicidal angel, like Alfred, bent on beating the soul out of me is seriously hurting my chances of getting and maintaining gainful employment.
“Evie, we can consider all of this a loan, if it makes you feel better, and you can pay me back later,” he says, holding up my chin and looking into my eyes.
“When am I going to be able to pay you back, sugar daddy?” I ask him in a worried tone.
I watch the way his sensual lips curve cunningly as he tries not to smile. He notices I am not smiling, so he says, “Let me take care of you. It’s all I want to do.”
I sigh. “I have no choice right now but to rely on you for help, but I’m not taking the credit card,” I say firmly.
“Evie,” Reed’s tone is cajoling.
“Reed,” I reply as I dig in.
“What’s a sugar daddy?” Reed asks me, and then laughs when he sees my blush deepen. “That bad, huh?” he asks.
“Yeah, that bad.” I reply. “When are we leaving, Buns?” I ask to try to change the subject away from my waifish existence.
“I’m going to call them and make the arrangements. How long do you two need to plot and scheme?” Buns asks Zephyr and Reed.
“A couple of hours. We’ll be ready by tonight.” Zephyr replies and Reed nods.
“Sick! We can go tonight and be on the slopes after breakfast tomorrow,” she says happily, and then she jets out of the room in an eighth of a second to get her phone and make the arrangements.
“I’ll go pack.” I say, feeling the mixture of excitement and dread again. I speed to my room in seconds so that they will all think I am just excited.
Alone in my room, I go to my closet to get my suitcase. As I pull it down from the top shelf, a box that had been partially hidden falls down with it. Kneeling on the ground to retrieve the box, I freeze. It is a wooden box with dragonflies encrusted on its lid. Someone must have gotten it from my dorm room when they had brought over my things. My hand shakes as I reach for it.
My touch is light as my fingertips brush over the wood, feeling the intricately carved images covering the surface. Freddie gave me this for my birthday, I think, as I lift my fingertips from the box as if I have been scalded by it. He had been telling me what he is with his gift, only I hadn’t realized it at the time. I shudder as I recall touching his paper-like dragonfly wings that had buzzed and vibrated in agitation.
I’m so stupid. How could I have let this happen? Guilt and shame hit me. I open the lid to the box and see the small, silver makeup compact inside; on the lid is etched an ornate dragonfly with inlayed opals that comprise the torso of the dragonfly. The stones gleam evilly in the dim light of the closet.
I didn’t see what he was, and as a result, many people had suffered and died including my uncle, I think, as my hands curl into fists. This gift is a physical representation of my stupidity. It is a reminder that I have to look at things differently from now on. I can’t afford to be stupid and naїve anymore or the ones I love will suffer for it. This is my bitter reality. I pick the compact up, hugging it to my body in despair. I can’t fail again because the price is too high.
Feeling the small latch on the compact beneath my fingertips, I flip the compact back over and look at it. Depressing the button, it opens with a soft click, dispelling a small gasp of air that was trapped inside. I raise the lid, revealing the mirror. For an instant, all I can see are my eyes looking back at me. I look haunted: deadened by the thing I hold in my hand. But then a movement in the mirror distracts me from the image of myself. It startles me so I look behind me to see what could possibly have moved. There is nothing there. I peer in the mirror once again, noticing that the image of me is murkier, less crisp.
Something moves in the mirror that is not a reflection; a truly distorted and shadowy shape shifts within the glass. The longer I watch it, the closer it seems to be coming and the more it takes on a definite form…as if a shadow is running toward me down a long corridor within the mirror that is in no way a reflection of any room I have seen in this house. But it isn’t just a shadow, it’s a swarm of flies all working together to form the shape of a man.
Coming to my senses in the next instant, I try to snap the lid of the compact shut, but it is levered open and refuses to close. Tossing the compact away from me, it crashes to the floor. Hissing emits from the mirror, casting a stench in the air that I had prayed I would never smell again. Black clouds of flies come pouring out into the air, billowing from the mirror to sway and undulate grotesquely until their dark mass implodes into a single image of a man—a shadow man. He is like the one I had seen in Coldwater with Freddie. It only takes the shadow man a fraction of a second to grin at me evilly before he lunges forward to kill me.
About the Author
I live in Michigan with my husband and our two sons. My family is very supportive of my writing. They often bring me the take-out menu so that I can call and order them dinner. They listen patiently when I talk about my characters like they’re real. They rarely roll their eyes when I tell them I’ll only be a second while I finish writing a chapter…and then they take off their coats. They ask me how the story is going when I surface after living for hours in a world of my own making. They have learned to accept my “writing uniform” consisting of a slightly unflattering pink fleece jacket, t-shirt, and black yoga pants. And they smile at my nerdy bookishness whenever I try to explain urban fantasy to them. In short, they get me, so they are perfect and I am blessed. Please visit me at my website: www.amyabartol.weebly.com
Table of Contents
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
For my mom, Gloria, the eternal optimist who never allowsanything to remain in the past tense…especially her love
Contents
CHAPTER 1 MOVING DAY
CHAPTER 2 ORIENTATI ON
CHAPTER 3 ARDEN LAKE
CHAPTER 4 REGISTRATION
CHAPTER 5 FIELD HOCKEY
CHAPTER 6 THE PROMISE
CHAPTER 7 THE HISTORY OF ART
CHAPTER 8 THE SPEED OF LIGHT
CHAPTER 9 FOREIGN LANGUAGE
CHAPTER 10 THE LAWS OF ATTRACTION
CHAPTER 11 PARADISE LOST
CHAPTER 12 THE PORTRAIT
CHAPTER 13 COLDWATER
CHAPTER 14 OPPOSITES ATTRACT
CHAPTER 15 LIGHT AND SHADOW
CHAPTER 16 FORMAL
CHAPTER 17 DELT WARS
CHAPTER 18 BIRTHDAY WISHES
CHAPTER 19 ART EXHIBITION
CHAPTER 20 REVELATIONS
CHAPTER 21 WINTER BREAK
COMING SOON
CHAPTER 1
ABOUT THE AUTHOR