Authors: Abra Ebner
Tags: #abra ebner teen young adult books fiction fantasy angel shapeshifter magic
I saw Emily and Wes enter the courtyard, the
only other bodies in sight. Emily had swapped her typical short
skirt for a pair of leggings and knee high boots. Her continued
transformation was unbelievable. It was hard to deny that Wes
really was good for her. A feeling of jealousy washed over me;
jealousy because they had each other to discuss this with. Emily
had a look of trepidation on her face, and Wes’s was drawn, as
though he’d had as much sleep as I had.
I was surprised when they made their way
toward me and sat down.
“
Jane, I think we need to
talk about this,” Wes’s voice was elevated to carry over the wind.
He glanced sideways at Emily but she kept her head down. She dug
her nail into the wood of the table, following a carving someone
else had left. Clearly she wasn’t too fond of the pending
conversation.
I nodded, looking down at the bagel before
me. I picked at the skin, peeling it back and leaving it on the
napkin.
“
I know
that on Friday a lot of things happened,” he continued. “Namely
what Emily had said.” He paused. “I think we can all benefit from
sticking together.” He paused again, this time waiting for me to
react, but I said nothing. “I realize how suddenly strange
everything has become, how strange
we’ve
become. I don’t understand any
of this, or why it’s happening. My idea is that something is not
right, something is making us change.”
“
Change how?” My remark was
a little bitter.
“
All that
pain I felt over the summer, it seems it was almost a warning. Like
Emily said, I can change into things, namely animals. Isn’t it
strange that it should all happen now, though? With the arrival of
the
twins?”
I felt the same
frustration I had in the car with Max. I did not want to believe
that magick was right here, right now—directly under our noses. The
harder I denied it, though, the more prevalent it became.
“Animals?
Like a
shape-shifter?”
Wes looked thoughtful. “A shape-shifter? Is
that what I am?”
I looked up at him, remembering the
description from Mr. Gordon’s books. “Yes. I suppose.” It was then
that I was reminded of the fact that Erik Gordon was somehow Max’s
younger brother. I flinched, my head aching.
“
Well,
that answers a lot of questions
I
had. I knew you of all people
could figure that out.”
I looked up at him, seeing him smile
sweetly. Emily glanced sideways at Wes, a look of distrust on her
face. My gaze bore a hole into Emily’s head. If she could hear my
thoughts, as she had claimed at the party, then she should know
exactly what I was thinking. I was not a threat.
I looked back at Wes. “But the important
thing is that now we know, I suppose.” I tried to make the best of
the situation. I looked at my bagel. My appetite was gone.
I heard Wes exhale. “What
is this, Jane? What is going on with these brothers?
Who are they?
I know
you’re—
close
to
the one.” His words dragged as he adjusted his seat. Emily
flinched. “What did he have to say for himself?”
I lifted my shoulders to my ears. “He’s
different, too, I guess. I didn’t really stick around long enough
to get an exact explanation, but—”
“
I don’t trust them, Jane,”
Wes snapped.
I felt defensive all of a sudden.
His eyes were fiery, and his brows cynical.
“I don’t get what you see in him. Can’t you see that he’s
dangerous?”
I stiffened my grip on the
carton of milk, my hand stinging from the cold. “He’s not
dangerous, Wes.”
Why was I protecting
him?
Wes snorted. “Whatever, Jane.”
Emily:
I listened to them bicker as I traced the
carving in the table, over and over again. It was a half moon
shape, and nothing important, but I pretended it was in order to
stay out of the conversation.
I could hear the jealousy in Wes’s voice,
and in his head. He was angry that Jane liked this Max kid, this
creature that sent chills through every fiber of my being. Max
wasn’t human; he couldn’t be.
As I listened to them
bicker, jealousy began to form in my own heart. I thought about the
things Greg had said the other morning.
He
was right.
Wes was never going to love me
the way I wanted. He didn’t love me first, so why could I believe
that he loved me now? Wes was using me to get to Jane.
I knew it.
I began to consider the brothers for a
moment. Maybe Greg wasn’t bad at all. Maybe it was Max that I
needed to fear. What if I’d had it all wrong? What if the way I
felt around Greg had been love and attraction, the screams my own?
Greg clearly loved me, and best of all, he wasn’t at all interested
in Jane. If he were, then he would have tried to go for her. I
licked my lips, wanting to taste the sugary chill of Greg’s
kiss.
At least Wes couldn’t
hear
my
thoughts.
Wes:
My spine tingled, a
strange feeling emanating from Emily that hadn’t before. I pushed
away the feeling, concentrating on Jane. I was so frustrated with
her. How did she not see that Max was a bad idea? How did she not
see that on
Friday night?
I’d always considered Jane to be a
level-headed person, but it now seemed that her conscience had
completely left her. All I wanted to do when I saw Max was slit his
throat with a set of claws. There was a chill that surrounded him,
as though he had no heart at all.
“
I’m just
saying that I don’t trust him, Jane. So don’t say I didn’t warn you
when we find you stashed in a dumpster,
dead.”
I wanted to control the sting
of my words, but I couldn’t.
I touched Emily’s knee under the table,
feeling sorry that I’d offended her by speaking to her sister. I
knew how it must seem to her, but I was protecting Jane because of
our friendship, not the infatuation I once held. Emily pulled her
knee away from me. I frowned.
“
Can we get back to the
important things now?” Jane’s voice was curt.
I stopped talking, trying to forget it.
“
It
doesn’t matter who has turned into what, or whether or not we
shared that information, because now we have. I’m sure we had our
own fears about what each other would think, so let’s try to forget
that and move on from here.” Jane was preaching now. “Wes, I do
agree with you. We do need to stick together, so yelling at me
about the decisions I make in my personal life isn’t helping.
So
stop.”
I rolled my eyes, agreeing… at least for
now.
Jane:
“
All I know, Emily…” I was
trying to get her to stop scratching at the table and enter the
conversation. “…is that our father was murdered because he also had
something resembling what you have, or so I’m told.” I didn’t want
to trust my sources, but found that saying it had made it
real.
Emily finally looked at me
for the first time since they had sat down.
“What?”
I exhaled slowly, thinking
that apparently her mind reading skills weren’t all that great if
she didn’t already know that information, but then again, it was
rather clear that her only concern seemed to be Wes, so why bother
with my thoughts at all? “I’ve been led to—I mean—I
believe
that dad also
had some sort of magick, and that is why you have it
too.”
Emily leaned into the
table. “Wait, he was
clairvoyant?
And
murdered?”
I was slighted by the word. “Yes,” I replied
sternly. “I believe that my magick was a result of the accident,
but your magick is hereditary, like dad’s was.”
Emily watched me with eyes full of a sudden
connection. I knew that she’d never felt close to our father, and
perhaps it was because our father wanted to protect her, distance
himself in order to keep their abilities a secret. He probably saw
that eventually she would be able to hear his thoughts, and know
what he was. Our father’s obvious distance now had a heartfelt
merit.
“
So, Emily, you are in turn
more tied to this gift than I am. And Wes…” I looked at him now,
all business. “You are likely the same… hereditary I mean. It’s
quite possible that your father or mother was also a shape
shifter.”
“
Hereditary?
Are there
different kinds?”
“
Yes,” I snapped. “Three:
Hereditary, Learned, and Sheol, like—”
Wes snorted. “You call it
what you want, but I’m calling it a
shape-shifter,”
he sounded proud of
the title.
“
Okay,
whatever.” I shook my head, aggravated. “But it’s also a possible
reason as to why you were orphaned.” I felt excited all of a
sudden.
Yes! It made perfect
sense!
“Think about it, Wes!” I leaned
across the table, mindlessly grabbing his hand. “Your parents left
in order to protect you, not because they didn’t want
you.”
Wes jerked his hand out of mine and grasped
Emily’s instead, as though trying to save face. Emily didn’t look
impressed by my forward action.
“
Oh, chill out, Emily. He’s
all yours,” I spouted, unable to control the comment.
Emily glared at me—like she used to.
I pulled my hand back into my lap with a
noticeable tartness. “Don’t you agree, Wes?”
He came back to the matter at hand. “Yeah,”
he replied hesitantly. “I mean, do you really believe that could be
the case?”
I knew Wes had accepted the fact that his
parents hadn’t wanted him, but now it was like realizing they
actually had loved him, and he was understandably confused. “Yeah,
I do. I bet they’re still out there as well. We can try to find
them!”
Wes looked over his shoulder uneasily.
I left the subject alone, figuring I’d let
him stew over the notion. “So, I guess the last question is: What
is hunting us, and why?”
It was the question I knew we all held, and
I knew this because we seemed to put our differences aside for a
moment and look at each other as a group. We all nodded in unison.
I thought for a moment, wondering if it was smarter to stick
together, or pull apart. In the end, though, it always made sense
to stick together.
“
We have each other,” I
began to finish. “And that is what we need to remember. That is
what is most important.” I put my hand on theirs as Wes still held
Emily’s. “Let’s do this together, okay?”
Wes:
I felt the warmth of Jane’s touch, and the
warmth of Emily’s touch. I was so juxtaposed, so lost inside them
both. I couldn’t decide.
It was then that I
saw
him
enter the
yard, the wind blowing across his dark, full frame. He was calm,
cool—he knew how to hold himself. Every fiber of my being tightened
with anger, my senses attuned to the danger no one but I
saw.
Jane noticed the change in my demeanor and
looked over her shoulder. Her grip on my hand tightened, taken by
Max’s presence. I saw her eyes scan his outline, her mouth parted,
a careful cloud of breath escaped. I felt her heart begin to race,
her body growing warm with anticipation. My heart broke, realizing
that look, the one I’d longed to see for so long, but was never
meant for me.
Jane’s grasp released and her hands fell to
her sides. I squeezed Emily’s hand out of habit, trying to
overcompensate for the obvious feelings of jealousy I had. Max
arrived at the table, a look of apprehension in the blue eyes that
never parted from Jane’s. I glared, my palms sweating.
“
May I sit down?” He
addressed everyone, though his eyes continued to remain on
Jane.
I snorted and slid off the bench, grabbing
my bag and throwing it over my shoulder, leaving Max standing with
no answer. I was still grasping Emily’s hand, as though we had been
glued together. “Come on, Emily,” I hissed, tugging on her arm.
Emily looked up at me, standing as she tried
to balance herself against my abrupt pull. Once she was beside me,
I put my arm around her shoulder, dragging her away.
I couldn’t bear to watch. I couldn’t bear to
see his face.
Max:
“
Hello.” I pressed my hands
in my pockets as I stood behind Jane, my voice sincere. I scanned
the planes of her face, seeing her cheeks had a slight flush,
accentuating the hazel spears in her otherwise flawless brown
eyes.
Jane’s gaze on me released and she turned
back to the table, leaving me in a cold shadow behind her. “Hi,”
she mumbled.
I walked around the table, trying to catch
her gaze once more. I needed to set things straight. I needed her
to see that my words were heartfelt.
She adjusted herself, her thoughts nervous,
but open.
“
Listen, Jane.” I swung my
leg over the bench and sat diagonal to her, trying not to invade
her space and ruin this one chance I had to explain. “You need to
understand that I mean you no harm—emotionally or
physically.”
Jane lips were pressed
together, her eyes diverted. “I can’t understand, Max.” Her voice
was wavering.
“Help
me to understand,” she pleaded.
The tone in her voice played at the
desperate thoughts in her head. She needed me. I wanted to take her
hand and hold it in mine. I wanted to feel the way her soul calmed
me, but my hands remained flat on the rough wood of the picnic
table.