- •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 shrug, and say with a small smile, “Megan totally fell for it, too. It was worth the stink eye she gave me.”
Mrs. White, the housemother, enters then and eyes everyone with a sour expression. When the room quiets down, she begins the meeting. It is a dry, torturous reading of the packet containing the dorm rules.
“Why don’t they just give us the rules and be done with it,” I whisper to Buns as Mrs. White reads on with no inflection in her voice. “I mean, I think it’s safe to say that everyone here can read.”
“They think they have to read it to us because they know that only a freshman will read it otherwise,” Buns whispers back, smiling at me and winking. “Hey, what are you doing tonight after dinner, around six fifteen or so?” Buns whispers excitedly as if something has just occurred to her.
“Umm, I was planning on going for a walk tonight but not until later on, why?” I whisper back.
“Field hockey!” Buns whispers expectantly.
“Field hockey?” I whisper back warily, looking at Mrs. White to make sure she isn’t noticing us.
Buns bounces excitedly in her seat, not even trying to be inconspicuous as she whisper-shouts, “You can be on our team! We need a couple more girls, and you would be perfect! You look athletic; did you play sports in high school?”
“Yeah, soccer team and ski team,” I say in a low voice, trying not to attract any attention from the people around us. “But I never even watched a field hockey game. We didn’t have a team at my school.”
Waving her hand like she’s erasing my objection from the air, she whispers, “That’s okay, field hockey is a lot like soccer. You can pick it up in no time, and it’s just an intramural league, anyway.” Bouncing up and down in her seat again, she whispers, “Please, Evie!”
We are definitely drawing the attention of the girls near us with our conversation. “Buns, you’re going to get us tossed out of here,” I whisper, but she just steeples her hands together, moving her lips like she’s praying, ignoring everything else around her. “Okay,” I whisper to her.
“Sick!” she whispers back happily.
It ends up taking Mrs. White almost an hour to get through the rules. When she is finished, Buns and I go back upstairs to her room. “You can have one of Brownie’s field hockey uniforms to practice in until we get our new ones. She’s my roommate,” she says. “You two are almost the same height.”
She bangs open the door of her room with a crash, switching on the light. “Brownie, get up!” she orders in a teasing voice. “We have to get ready for dinner, and then we have hockey practice.”
Brownie doesn’t move from the cocoon of blankets on her bed except to raise her middle finger up to Buns.
Buns laughs, saying, “You’re making a bad impression. I brought someone for you to meet.”
Stirring slowly, Brownie sits up in her bed, rubbing her eyes. She is really pretty—even with bed head. Her blond, wavy hair is so light it can be called platinum. She has blue eyes, too, like her roommate, but they are a lighter shade than Buns’s are.
“What time is it?” Brownie asks sleepily.
“It’s five o’clock. Mrs. White went on and on tonight, but Evie was stellar.”
Buns recounts my fake fall into the table for Brownie, which has her laughing and thanking me. Buns smiles, “I invited Evie to play field hockey with us tonight. She played soccer, and she skis, too.”
“That’s epic! We need you,” Brownie says to me. “We can teach you all you need to know,” she says, bounding out of bed with surprising agility. “Here, this is a hockey manual,” she adds, tossing me the book she’d taken off of her desk. “You can use one of my uniforms.”
“I already told her that,” Buns smiles warmly at me, watching Brownie pull out a little athletic skirt and knit top from the closet, piling the clothing into my arms. “I’ll bring you one of my sticks to practice with since we’re about the same height.”
“Okay,” I say as I clutch the uniform and manual.
“Let’s meet up after dinner at around six-fifteen, and we’ll walk over to the Field House together. We practice on the lower field by the baseball diamonds for about an hour. We should be done by seven-thirty,” Buns says.
“Do you guys eat in the cafeteria?” I ask hopefully. I’ve never seen them there, or up the hill for that matter, but it would be nice to eat with them once in a while.
“No, we eat at our sorority house. Our cook, Jenny, is gourmet,” Brownie replies.
“Oh, so you’re saying you don’t miss the appetizing fare at Saga,” I say sarcastically.
“Eww no, I shredded my saga card the minute I no longer needed it!” Buns says with a snort.
“You’re so lucky! I’ll have to hurry if I want to eat before we have to go. I’ll meet you guys after.”
I take the clothes back to my room and place them on my bed, thinking that I’ll change when I get back from dinner. I haul the field hockey manual with me to study at dinner. On the way, I quickly text Russell: Was invited to play field hockey @ 6:30 @ the lower field. Let’s walk after. B done NLT 7:30 CU after?
I don’t have to wait for the textpectation to build before my phone vibrates. I read the text message from Russell: EG Red! That’s epic meet u @ the field 2nite. UR 2G2BT.
Smiling at Russell’s message, I enter the cafeteria. Opting for the salad bar over the meatloaf dish, I scan the room for Freddie, but it isn’t five-thirty yet, so I sit at the back table by the picture window where we’d eaten breakfast this morning. I don’t have long to wait before Freddie sits down next to me.
“Hey, Freddie, how are you?” I ask in greeting.
“Frustrated, I just had to sit through the most mind numbing dorm meeting I’ve ever attended. Don’t they know that I’m quite capable of reading?” he asks in outrage.
“I know, right?” I agree with equal heat.
“Anyway, before I forget—here, this is for you,” Freddie says, handing me a piece of paper with several numbers scrawled on it.