Dark One: One for Sorrow... (The Khiara Banning Series Book 1) (21 page)

He shakes his head, but I can tell by his face that he believes her. He knows it’s true, and I guess now so do I, as impossible as it sounds. I guess now I know how he guessed my bra colour so easily.

“Victoria, are you a good angel or a bad one?” I somehow ask through all of my confusion. It feels like something I should ask for some reason.

She smiles, and I think for the first time it’s a genuine smile directed towards me. Turning to me, she says, “I’m on the fence when it comes to everyday living. But I suppose if you really want to know – and I guess you must – when the Battle comes, I will be on the side of Light.”

Battle?

“Why did you mention Cael?”

“I think deep down, you already know the answer to that. I’m sure you’ve noticed some pretty odd things about him. He’s never really been good at hiding his true nature…but then again, I’ve been here longer than he has.” She jerks her head towards Damien, “Longer than him too, though not by much.
Don’t
trust him.”

Cael’s voice echoes through my mind, as he tells me the story of the angel that fell in love with the human girl…he’d looked so sad after he told the story.
“There was an angel, an angel of Love. His calling was divine justice, and he was a very powerful angel.”
I think about the weird happening with the necklace and everything strange that has ever happened to me – especially recently – and I feel the necklace pulse with warmth.

I want everything to go back to how it was.
I think.

And then everything is just as it was.

Tristan is gliding across the floor with Cara, Victoria is chatting away with Damien, and I’m sitting here with my knees up to my face feeling like a fish out of water. Victoria catches my eye and winks, and a cold shiver is sent throughout my whole body.

Tristan and Cara stop dancing when they glance over and notice my facial expression. They make their way over to me, sit down next to me, and both put their arms around me.

“What’s up Babe?” asks Cara.

Tristan makes a funny face, “You feeling alright?”

I nod my head, suddenly extremely tired, and unable to explain what just happened to Cara without sounding insane I say, “Yeah, but I just had this really messed up dream. That’s all.”

Tristan’s face becomes a mask of many different emotions, “Well, I’m sure you don’t want to talk about it right now.” But I understand what he’s really saying;
we can’t talk about it here.

I nod again, “I just…” but a very drunk Damien cuts me off.

“Look at you!”

I look up at him. He’s standing right in front of us pointing down at me. “You’re one of a kind, did you know that? But what I really mean is that you’re a
freak
. A freak that will be alone the rest of her life because you’re,” he pauses to think of the word, “cursed.”

Heat floods my face as I realize that most everybody has stopped chatting and dancing to watch what’s going on here, and tears find their way to my eyes. He really must be dangerous. Something big is happening.

My heart feels like it’s going to burst through my chest
I. Can’t. Process. This.

Damien keeps spewing things at me about curses and some type of war, and I force myself to stop listening because there are too many missing pieces to this puzzle. Tristan gets up and punches Damien square in the jaw, saying, “I think we’ve had just about enough of you,” but it does nothing to him but make him laugh and walk away, Victoria quickly shooting me a strange look before following after him.

She said she was on the side of the light, but I don’t know what that means. I don’t know what battle they were going on about, and frankly, I’m about ready to pee my pants like a toddler and throw a fit.

That punch should have broken Damien’s jaw with its sheer force. But it didn’t.

Cara rubs my back, “Come on, let’s go. This party is lame anyway; we’ll have our own at my house. Mom’s out late tonight.”

I open my mouth to say something, anything, I can’t quite find the words to convey what I really want to say, so I get up and run straight for the door ignoring both Cara and Tristan’s voices as they call my name.

I run as fast as I can.

I burst through the big double doors of the gym and into an onslaught of icy rain.
My dress is instantly ruined and my makeup is completely smudged beyond repair. My hair is stuck to my scalp from the rain, but I don’t even care anymore, I just want to get away from here. The fear and uncertainty I feel right now is worse than anything I have ever imagined, and it has burned its way into my very core.

I run until I end up on Valour Street which isn’t too hard considering the size of our town. When I get to his house, you can’t tell if it’s tears or rain, or even both, running down my face but either way I know I look horrible.

I don’t even care.

Knocking on his door, I wait, feeling impatient. I’m about to knock again when he opens the door, standing there in his boxers and nothing else; sleep is deep in his eyes. I remember that the dance only started at nine, and it must be almost eleven by now.

“Khiara? What time is it?” asks Cael.

“Late,” I reply as he rubs at his eyes.

“It’s cold and wet out, come in.” He says, and I make my way inside, into the warmth. I just stand there, in the doorway, unsure of where to start, until he looks me over and says, “You know what? You’re going to take a hot shower. Stay right there, and I’ll get you a towel.”

He leaves the room, and a minute later, he comes back into the room with a fluffy green towel. He hands it to me and points me to the bathroom, “Go do your thing, don’t let me bother you.”

When I get into the bathroom, I’m about to close the door and it’s only then that I even remember my manners.

“Cael?” I say quietly, my head peeking out from the doorway of the bathroom.

He must be in his room, because he doesn’t answer me right away, so I say it again, “Cael?”

This time, I hear his bedsprings creak – he must’ve been sitting on his bed playing his guitar or something, and he walks into the hall. “Yeah?”

I blush at the sight of him in his boxers even though it’s not the first time (though the last time, he was barely conscious) and thank him. He just smiles and goes back to his room, and says, “Anytime.”

When I get into the shower I let the water rush over me and am filled with a sense of calm. I let my mind drift as I rub the shampoo into my scalp, the soap onto my body, washing all of my troubles away. His shampoo smells like lavender and honey. When I step out of the shower, I feel
so
grateful and relaxed. I dry myself off with the towel he gave me and go about looking for my clothes, which aren’t there, having been replaced by a pair of boxer shorts and a plain black tee shirt.

I slip them on, open the bathroom door and quietly pad down the hall towards his room. When I get there, I find that he’s sleeping. I don’t quite know what makes me do it, maybe it’s the way he’s snoring lightly, or maybe it’s the small amount of drool that’s running down his chin, but he just looks so vulnerable that I crawl into bed with him. This isn’t our first sleepover, but it’s our first in his bed.

He starts a little, at the movement I suppose, but he sleepily wraps his arms around me and sighs, “Hey.”

I wipe the drool off of his chin. “Hey yourself,” I say as I snuggle deeper into him.

He yawns, “So are you going to tell me what happened tonight? Or am I going to have to guess.”

“Guess,” I laugh quietly as he yawns again.

“Did you…trip and fall into the punch?”

I make a game show buzzer noise, “Wrong answer. You lose this round. Which was the only round,” it’s my turn to yawn, “I’m exhausted.”

He smiles, “Just go to sleep, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

I don’t know how long I wait to say it but after a while I whisper, “Are you the angel?”

No response.

“From the story?”

He waits what feels like forever, until finally, his signature sad smile appears on his lips, and he nods his head, the movement sending that stubborn piece of hair over his closed eyes. “Yeah,” he whispers back, “I am.”

“What does that make me?” I ask. He closes his eyes. “Please, all of this weird stuff is happening and I know you said you couldn’t tell me right away but I think it’s time, Cael.” I whisper. “You told me to trust you, but you need to trust me too.”

“You’re the girl.” He says, opening his eyes and looking deep into my own. “You’re the purest soul on Earth. You’re the one I Fell for and I have never regretted it. I will
never
regret it.”

Eighteen

Bacon.
That’s the first word my mind supplies as I sit up, yawn loudly, and sniff the air.
Definitely bacon.
I look around the room, and the events of last night come back to me in a whirlwind. Thank the lord we have the week off of school.

Oh God…I look around the room again, and take it in this time. The words “
I will never regret”
float around in my mind as I look at the wall where it’s written in so many different languages. I now know what they mean.

I get up and walk towards the enticing scent of food; my panic slightly ebbed as my stomach takes over the task of thinking for my brain. “That smells good,” I say as I walk into the kitchen, only to see that Cael’s been rather busy. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast and fresh fruit is set out on the small kitchen table.

“I figured you would have questions. So I thought food might distract you for a bit.” He admits with a sheepish look plastered on his face. His hair is still messy from having slept, and his blue eyes seem impossibly light against the backdrop of his black curly hair.

I shake my head, “It won’t distract me. I can ask and eat at the same time.”

He smiles and rolls his eyes, then runs his hand through his infuriatingly unruly hair. “Of course. You’re taking this awfully well, you know.”

I smile, albeit shakily. “Give me time. I just woke up.”

He walks over to the coffee maker and pours some coffee into a huge mug, then goes to the fridge to add some milk. “I figure a big cup will be good. We have a lot to talk about.”

Nodding I sit down at the small kitchen table where the food is laid out buffet style. I pile some food onto the plate he’s put down for me, and thank him when he hands me the huge mug of coffee.

“Soo,” he says, looking everywhere but at me. “I should probably be honest with you.”

I take a huge gulp of coffee and then sigh. “That’d be nice, yeah.”

“This isn’t the way I wanted to tell you, but nothing is going the way it’s supposed to.” He looks at me finally, his eyes so, so sad.

“The day we met at Cara’s party was a mistake. I’m…I’m not supposed to exist for you, not yet.”