LEMNISCATE Read online

  “Well? Are you coming in or not?”

  Part of me wondered if she had harmful intentions. Was a big kitchen knife waiting on the counter? Was this a trap to get me to admit I had broken in here Friday? My brain was one big sweaty mess, but still, I turned the key and the car’s engine came to a peaceful rest.

  I stepped into the kitchen, the pleasant scent of cinnamon greeted me. Brynn had already shed her jacket and was in the process of pulling her brown hair into a messy ponytail. I had never seen her with her hair up before. I had always assumed she was too snobby to look so casual.

  Unsure of what to say, I stated the predictable. “Your house is beautiful.”

  “You’ve been here before.”

  Oh my god. She knows.

  “The picnic in August? When my dad invited your mom and she made you come along?”

  “Oh, yeah.” I let the topic drop. It was a wonder she and I were even attempting to carry a conversation with each other.

  “If you’re wondering why the heck I asked you in, it’s so you can tell your mother that we spent some time together, and you won’t have to make something up.”

  Wow, I never thought Brynn would be into honesty.

  She headed down the hall and I reluctantly followed. I’m sure it was my imagination, but as we ventured further into the heart of the house, the air felt colder. Brynn stopped for a second and looked at the closed study door with dark eyes, then proceeded to climb the thickly carpeted steps to the second floor, motioning that I should follow.

  To the left of the Cinderella staircase we had just ascended, she flung a set of white double doors wide open, like a dignitary about to greet the press. Beyond was a stark room, polished and pristine in shades of white and little girl pink.

  I gingerly eased myself down onto the white eyelet comforter of Brynn’s king-sized bed. Brynn on the other hand showed no respect at all. She flopped down hard, pulled her knees up to her chest and sucked in a large breath.

  “Nice room,” I couldn’t help feeling the uncontrollable urge to compliment. I never imagined I would be sitting on Brynn Hanson’s bed after school. What would it look like to someone else? Like we were friends now?

  I sighed.

  Hardly.

  It was too perfect to take in all at once, the lushness, the expense of it all. Obviously her room had been professionally decorated, unlike mine, and I made a mental note to myself never to let Brynn see my room. Unless of course, I wanted photos of my personal space plastered all over YouTube so the student body at Carver High could laugh. No thank you.

  For as beautiful as her room was, it had a sterile quality to it, sort of a “borrowed” feel. I couldn’t explain it. It just seemed the opposite of Brynn’s personality. I really half-expected to walk in to find four black walls with skull posters, because that’s what emanated from her on a daily basis. Not that she was a goth girl. Far from it. She was hateful and prissy and above everyone else.

  I let my eyes roam over to the small white table next to her bed. A pretty seashell frame held the picture of a beautiful woman. She was strikingly familiar, and then for lack of a better conversation I asked the inevitable.

  “Oh, is this your mother?” I wanted to reach for the frame, to touch it, as if my fingers yearned to hold it in my hands. There was something so warm and inviting about her smile. She projected an inner glow that was the entire opposite of Brynn, although they did resemble each other enough.

  “Her name was Mary,” Brynn’s voice was flat.

  In the photo, Mary was leaning against an iron railing, her timeless white pant suit accentuating her lithe frame. Birds hovered in the background, suspended in flight as if the camera’s shutter had agitated the entire flock, making a stunning portrait.

  “When was this taken?” I asked, looking for a conversation starter.

  Brynn didn’t raise her head. Instead she picked at a loose thread on her comforter, pulling and pulling without care, as if she meant to unravel the entire spread.

  “She was on her honeymoon, in Italy.”

  “So your dad took the picture.” I couldn’t help staring at the beautiful woman that was the mother of such a piece of work.

  “No, he was dead.”

  “I beg your pardon?” I was pulled out of the happy place the photo had transported me into.

  “Nate took the picture.”

  “Nate?”

  “Yes, I think you’ve met him. He’s a doctor my mother married after the death of my father.”

  The facetious tone in her voice startled me, reminding me of where I was, and who I was with. Beneath the sleeves of my shirt my arms prickled and I felt the mark in my hand ripple, rising to the surface of my skin. For a moment, I had actually forgotten that we were enemies, that she was the girl responsible for many years of ridicule and grade-school torture. I could hear Ryan’s voice echoing in my head that something strange was in this house, and here I was sitting on its bed.

  Instantly, I felt self-conscious and very alone. My mother was out of town and no one knew where I was. Only Ryan knew of my mother’s hope that Brynn and I would learn to get along, and I could only pray he would piece two and two together if I would end up missing.

  “My mom died giving birth to Dr. Dread’s stillborn spawn,” Brynn hissed through clenched teeth. She switched her attention to a blue box she was now lifting out of the night-table drawer.

  So that was it. The cat was out of the bag. Her resentment stirred the air, creating a thick soup of tension that pressed down on me. I understood now that Brynn felt abandoned, left behind to live with a busy stepfather who was devoted to his profession more than the girl he was supposed to take care of, leaving Brynn to be reminded of her loss each and every day.

  I crossed my arms tightly in front of my chest, suddenly feeling tiny and cold and very out of place in Brynn’s room.

  “I’m sorry about your mom,” I whispered, trying to sound gentle even though I was uncomfortable. I wanted to tell her I had lost a parent too, but I doubted she would care. This moment, like any other, was all about her.

  Brynn shrugged, dismissing the fact that we were speaking of a matter that ran deeper than the surface.

  “He tries to buy me—hoping I’ll seem happier, but he has no idea.” Brynn was whispering reflectively. This was a side to her I never dared dream of seeing. But here she was, strangely opening up to me. I was so used to disliking and fearing her, but in this tiny little window she had decided to open, I couldn’t help feeling the ice melt a bit. I felt sorry for her. Her stepfather could buy her a Juicy bag, but it didn’t mean it could make her like him. All it did was buy her way into an elite circle at school, the pent-up anger she carried helping forge her way to the top of the social ladder.

  Brynn took a shiny bracelet from the little, blue velvet box and toyed with it a few seconds between her fingers. “Doesn’t he know? He can give me this and that, but it’ll never be what I really want.”

  The question formed itself on my lips, but I knew better than to ask. I knew what she wanted. I knew what her heart desired. She had steeled herself for so long, never letting anyone in to share her pain, her loss. But why me? Why now?

  Her shoulders shook and she flung the bracelet violently into the corner of her immaculate bedroom. Poor Nathaniel Dean. He could fix broken bones and sew people back together, but there was one thing he would never have the power to repair. He could never fix the hole in Brynn’s life where her mother used to be.

  Brynn looked up at me. I had been sitting silent for too long, but what was I supposed to say? The poor girl needed someone to comfort her, to hug her, but attempting anything on that level would be crossing a line. I could see pain in her eyes, and for an instant I was reminded of Hadrian. Leave it to me to be blessed with an uncanny knack to see the depths of another person’s soul.

  Slowly, I rose to my feet and padded across the room to retrieve the bracelet for her. Brynn was distracted. She seemed to be lost in her own thoug
hts as she stared out the window. Perhaps she had revealed too much and wasn’t sure what to say to me now? As I bent closer to the floor, the cool silver met my fingers, but that wasn’t all my fingers found. Something black and coarse was embedded within the fibers of the white carpet. I pinched a bit between my fingers and felt myself recoil, rising quickly to my feet.

  Sand.

  My hand burned wildly in response.

  Roughly, the drawer of the night table closed with a slam causing me to jump and spin around. The warm sorrow was gone from Brynn’s eyes, replaced by something icy and almost ominous. My blood ran cold just then, and I knew I had overstayed my welcome.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  My hand trembled as I pulled my cell phone from my purse. It was a good thing I had entered Ryan’s number into my address book, because there was no way I could keep my fingers steady and drive at the same time. On a normal day, I would text, but today was anything but normal. It required hearing another person’s voice, a live body on the other end.

  Breathe, Teagan. Just breathe.

  The instant he answered, I began rattling off the last hour and twenty-or-so minutes. I recounted seeing Garreth in the parking lot and the ever-growing distance between us, that Brynn got ditched by her friends, as well as the strange invite into her house.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “I guess so.” Really, I was fine, just shaky. “But Ryan, the sand. It was the same as what we found on the floor of the study.”

  “Maybe it’s just a coincidence?” Ryan responded, but I could hear the worry in his voice. “I would invite myself over but . . . my dad is home today. Otherwise I would. You know that, right?”

  “I know, thanks.” I could hear movement on the other end, like someone shuffling. An angry voice boomed in the background that I surmised was Ryan’s father.

  “I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” Ryan breathed into the phone and moments later, there was silence.

  I pulled into my driveway and walked quickly up the chipped concrete sidewalk to the back porch. The air was turning, feeling damp and chilly. I turned the key in the lock, eager to get inside.

  Once I was in the calm silence of my bedroom, I threw myself onto the bed, closing my eyes to the day. I had been alone in the house a million times before, but today it seemed quieter than ever, and instead of feeling safe and secure, I felt tense and agitated. It’s just because Mom is further away than usual, I thought to myself.

  No, that wasn’t it, although that was the case. Strange things were happening in Hopewell. Heck, strange things were happening to me. I took stock of it all. Brynn’s befriending me for a day, the strange black sand in her room and the study, not to mention that Hadrian had resurfaced in my life. Then there was the tiny matter of Garreth, which deep inside my heart was not tiny at all.

  It felt huge. Crater-sized.

  I decided to head downstairs to boil some ramen noodles. After carrying the meager dinner up to my room, I settled myself at my computer desk and attempted to busy myself with schoolwork. But my brain wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, I found myself opening my inbox and soon my fingers were typing a new message to Claire. At this point, I realized opening up to Claire was like a diary for me, soothing my anxiety, and the best part of all, was that no one would ever find my pathetic entries. My mother could come in and snoop all she wanted.

  “Never underestimate the power of the delete button,” I said out loud to myself.

  After a quick email to my late BFF, I moved onto the book I was supposed to start reading for English. A term paper on Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein had just been assigned and although eager for a good read, I found myself thinking about the real monsters in my life. I felt responsible for Garreth’s behavior. I was the one who wanted him here, now, in this life with me. He knew being earthbound was venturing into the unknown and yet he did it, for me.

  Garreth was changing. He was no longer protective, gentle, loving. He was jealous, reckless . . . as if he was now tainted by the very essence of human nature. What I found disturbing, however, was how quickly it came on. One minute he was fine, he was Garreth. The next . . .

  I missed him terribly, but I still didn’t know how to help him.

  Just then the phone rang and I lunged for it across my bed, hoping it was Ryan.

  “Oh, hi Mom.”

  “Hey, sweetie,” my mother’s cheerful voice rang out from the receiver. “I miss you already!”

  “Me too, mom.”

  “Did you see Brynn today?”

  “Uh, actually I did.” I was biting what was left of my thumb nail. “We hung out at her house after school.” If that’s what you want to call it.

  “See, I knew you two would get along.” I stifled a snort under my breath. “Maybe this means Nate and I can sneak away more often?”

  “Just not too often, okay?” I couldn’t imagine another day like today.

  “Are you still there, honey?”

  “Yeah. Sorry, I’m just tired.”

  “Maybe you should go to bed early? At least stay in for the night. I heard a storm is supposed to hit. Well look, we’re headed for a late dinner in a few minutes. I’ll call you later, okay? Love you.”

  “Okay. Love you, too.”

  I pressed the little red button on my phone, ending the connection. My mother sounded happy.

  I sighed. The thought of a chilly nighttime storm made me cuddle deeper beneath the covers. I picked up the borrowed copy of Frankenstein and settled in.

  “Garreth!” I heard my voice call out to him, but he wasn’t listening. Instead, he was doubled over with pain again. Only this time I was closer. I could reach for him—but he wasn’t reaching back. Like he no longer recognized me, or he had chosen not to.

  At last, his blue eyes focused on my face. He was speaking without words and I couldn’t understand. I shook my head back and forth. Then the iris of his eyes turned black, obliterating the blue.

  Suddenly, a cracking sound filled the space around us as Garreth attempted to straighten himself. I helplessly watched him struggle as pitch black wings began to extended behind him.

  “Garreth!” I called out once again. He needed to turn around before it was too late!

  Whatever was behind him was close. Too close. But as he stepped towards me I could see the wings follow him, and with alarming disbelief, I could see that he and the darkness were one.

  I awoke with a start frantically wiping my damp hair from my face to see if the black wings were indeed real and were smothering me. A shimmer of light glinted within the scope of my peripheral vision. I turned my head. A shoulder and a wisp of blonde hair was all I could see before the image wavered and dissipated into the air.

  “Garreth,” I breathed into the dark. But it was another voice that answered me. I turned back to find Hadrian staring at me again.

  I grabbed the blankets and pulled them in towards my chest.

  “He’s come twice today, seeking you,” Hadrian’s voice sliced the silence.

  “How did you know? Are you following me?” I was sitting up now and perfectly awake, but I couldn’t help staring after the now-faded image of my guardian.

  “Yes.”

  I was about to ask why, but I didn’t think it relevant to continue. Why wouldn’t he follow me? I had practically begged for him to come back. Little did I know how my own thoughts would betray me.

  My gaze wandered over to my computer, which was now going into snooze mode, re-setting the desktop background of a picture of me and Claire at the beach.

  I looked up at him, “I write to Claire. It’s stupid, but I email her. I guess . . . it comforts me. But you always show up soon after I send it. Why is that?”

  Hadrian took a step forward. “Every thought is filtered to me now. It is a link you yourself created.”

  “Every thought?” I asked, cringing.

  But he only looked at me intensely.

  “Is Garreth in trouble?” I summoned the nerve to ask.
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  “Yes, your dreams are significant.”

  “But I don’t know how to help him,” I sighed, wrapping the covers tighter around me, partly because I was cold and partly because he was now standing right over me. I wondered if he knew about the feather hidden beneath my pillowcase? If he had seen my moment of weakness, of wanting—or perhaps he had been the one to prompt it. I kept my eyes averted. Although I wondered it, I didn’t really want to know.

  “You’ve saved him once already. Don’t you think it’s his turn to save himself?”

  I stared at the beautiful angel in front of me, absorbing his question. Did Garreth need my help? If I didn’t try, then who would?

  “The human experience is overwhelming. Some cannot handle it when it crashes into them all at once.”

  “So really, this is my fault? This wouldn’t be happening to him if he didn’t become earthbound.”

  Hadrian leaned a bit closer, settling his green eyes on me. “I would do the same,” he whispered. His hand reached out for me and caressed my face. “That, Teagan, is the unfortunate fate of us both.”

  As much as I felt myself drawn to his touch, I pulled away, conflicted. First, there was Garreth. Then there was Hadrian’s cryptic message, unfortunate fate. What was that supposed to mean? I couldn’t help feeling I had ruined the lives of two angels. Was I a disease or something? As my thoughts flew back to Garreth, Hadrian looked at me knowingly.

  He straightened himself, regaining his regal stance. “You need to realize that Garreth is at risk. Anything earthbound is fair game now.” His beautiful face followed the shadows Garreth had retreated into. “There are souls free for the taking.”

  “But what about me? I’m human.”

  “No, you’re different. Lucifer fears you.”

  Puzzled, I looked at him.

  “You don’t know about the prophecy, do you?” Hadrian asked me and I shook my head.

  He took my hand firmly and opened my palm. My mark burned and sizzled painfully before my eyes. The delicate scrolls of my mark blazed and extended toward each other, touching end to end and in an instant, my beautiful mark was changed. I stared down in wonder. A number eight met my disbelieving eyes. An eight, perfectly burned into the palm of my hand. Hadrian tilted it sideways.