Branded (17 page)

But what other choice did I have? Call an ambulance?

I didn’t think so. I had to do something though.

Though my body screamed against me, I rolled onto my side and grabbed the phone from the bedside table. It took me only a moment to recall the number Cole had written down for me last night and though my fingers were shaking violently, I managed to dial the number.

It only rang once.

“Hello?” his perfect, smooth voice answered.

“Hi Cole,” I croaked, my dry throat protesting against use.

“Are you alright?” he questioned, though for some reason there was no surprise in his voice one might normally use when asking that kind of question.

“Not exactly,” I said. “Um… I was kind of wondering if you could come over and help me out for a minute.” I might as well not beat around the bush and get this humiliating and agonizing request over with.

“Where is Alex?” he questioned though I thought I detected a strange hint of, was that…smugness?

“He had to go down to Everett,” I explained simply, trying to ignore the irritation that burned just under my skin, totally separate from the burn of the fever.

Cole was silent for just a second and I felt as if I could almost sense his satisfied smile through the phone. I hoped I was just being overly judgmental.

“I’ll be over in just a minute,” his smooth reply finally came.

“Thanks,” I said and hung up without saying a formal good-bye.

As I put the phone back on the dock I rolled back onto my back with a huff. My head spun at the motion and I immediately regretted doing so so quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut, though it didn’t stop the spinning sensation.

When Cole said he would be over in just a minute I didn’t expect him to mean that so literally. I wondered if it had even been that long when I heard the door that led out onto the deck open and quietly close.

My heart did a strange quiver as Cole’s lean frame appeared in the door. I couldn’t understand it and I had a hard time sorting out the emotions. Of course there was a sense of relief at my rescue, but there were other odd emotions. Hesitancy, fear, attraction, it was difficult to tell which emotion was strongest but the most confusing one- an odd sense of trust washed over me. I had been so wary of him but why? There had been no question in his reply when he agreed to come and help me. It was all so confusing…

“Thanks for coming over,” I found myself saying before I could really take a second to clear my head.

“Of course,” he said as he took a few hesitant steps forward. As my eyes took him in I noticed that while he was dressed casually, he wore all white. A white turtleneck disappeared into his long, almost black hair and he wore a pair of rather expensive looking slacks. The entire look, while undeniably attractive, was also intimidating in a strange way.

“I hate to say it but you look just inches away from death,” he said, though a smile was starting to crack on his lips.

“I feel like it,” I croaked as I rubbed my eyes. The toll this sickness was taking on my body was draining and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I had to sleep. If I could work it right, I could get rid of Cole and wake up before Alex got home. He didn’t need to witness that experience any more than necessary.

Cole crossed the room and was soon standing at my bedside, looking down on me with those intensely dark eyes.

He raised a hand and softly stroked my brow, pushing a few locks of stray hair away. “What can I get you?” he said softly, for which I was grateful for. Every sound sent another throbbing shot of pain through my brain.

“Some water would be wonderful,” I said, suddenly finding my head much more clear as he touched me. I nearly violently wished he wouldn’t. “And there is some Tylenol upstairs, in the master bathroom. Hopefully that will help.”

“Okay,” he said softly as he turned for the doorway and left. He was only gone for a few short moments before he returned with a towering glass and two pills in his hand.

I accepted these greedily and downed them much faster than I should have considering there was someone watching.

“Have you eaten anything today?” he asked as he watched me contently, perched on the side of my bed like some sort of mythical god.

I shook my head as I finished the last drops of my water. “I threw up a few times this morning, even though there wasn’t anything in my stomach.” I thought for a moment though and realized that my stomach was suddenly feeling much better. “Actually, I’m kind of hungry now,” I blurted before I realized saying so was an invitation to have Cole cook something for me.

“Just give me a few minutes. I’ll find something to make for you,” he said with a hesitant smile and I suddenly wondered if Cole really knew how to cook. From the look on his face the answer was no.

“You don’t have to,” I tried to quickly recover. Cole just shook his head with that slightly arrogant smile. “I could try to make something for myself. Just give me a minute.”

“I’ll give you the whole day,” Cole said as he reached the door. “Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”

“That’s the problem,” I muttered when I was sure he was out of earshot.

I listened intently for any sounds coming from my tiny kitchen but they were very minimal for which I was grateful, only the occasional note that fluttered in from a tune Cole was humming. I tried to place it but was unable.

As I waited to see what Cole could come up with, I thought of the dilemma that now faced me. What was I going to tell Alex when he got back tonight? The thought of how he might react to the fact that Cole had taken care of me when I was sick made my stomach clench up. Despite how he reacted earlier to Cole’s flowers, it hadn’t exactly seemed like possessiveness or jealousy. I wasn’t sure what exactly the emotion was. Perhaps he was just feeling insecure, or maybe even hurt? It was difficult to say. Either way, it was absolutely unnecessary.

I’d had my eyes closed and feeling rather lost in thought when the bed jostled just slightly. My eyes flew open and I saw Cole sitting on the edge of it. In his hands he bore a silver platter with a bowl of something steamy, several saltine crackers, and a large glass of orange juice.

“I really hope it tastes okay,” he said, his face looking genuinely concerned that it might not. “I have to admit, I’m not much of a cook.”

“No,” I crooned as I strained to pull myself up into a sitting position. “I’m sure it will be fine.” Once I was sat up, Cole carefully placed the tray on my lap. I took one small spoonful of the soup, seriously hoping my stomach was going to cooperate.

It was about the blandest soup I had ever had in my life and probably had fewer than four ingredients. It was also in desperate need of some salt. But I shoveled it into my mouth and kept a gracious expression. It was probably better that it tasted bland. My stomach should be able to handle bland.

“How is it?” Cole questioned, his face looking slightly pained.

“It’s great,” I lied as I shoved more into my mouth. It was at least helping to fill my empty stomach.

I quickly downed the crackers and the orange juice and Cole cleared the dirty dishes away. When he came back into my room he did not go back to his seat on my bed, for which I was grateful, but sat on the floor by the door, his back resting against the wall.

“Thank you,” I sighed as I lay back into my comfortable bed. “I’m starting to feel a little better.”

“You should probably try to get some sleep,” he suggested casually.

Even though my mind protested the idea, my eyelids slid closed. “Maybe,” I said as I tried to stifle a yawn.

“Later.”

I heard slight movement, like maybe Cole had shrugged his shoulders. I didn’t bother to open my eyes and check.

“You’ve seemed a little distant the last little bit,” Cole said, his voice clear and while not sharp, very to the point.

“I hope it has only been because of Sal’s accident.” I didn’t miss the implication behind his words. My stomach suddenly clenched up again. I squeezed my eyes closed tightly, already regretting my decision to call Cole over.

“Ya,” I tried to think quickly and avoid an uncomfortable conversation. “Things have been really busy and stressful since that.”

“You seem to be rather happy that Alex is back,” he stated. I could feel his intense, almost accusing stare burning through my eyelids.

“It’s nice to have him back,” I said honestly. I really didn’t want to expound beyond that. I shouldn’t have to explain anything to Cole. As grateful as I was for his help, he had no claim on me.

It was silent for a moment, each passing second growing unbearably uncomfortable.

“I hope I feel better this afternoon,” I finally blurted, knowing I was babbling. “I really should go see Sal again. I wanted to ask her doctor when she is going to be moved.”

“Moved?” Cole questioned.

I then realized Cole hadn’t heard anything about Sal’s condition. I wished I hadn’t said anything suddenly. It seemed like an invasion of Sal’s privacy to have told him.

“To a more permanent facility. It’s supposed to just be temporary though. Just for some observation,” I scrambled.

“Hum,” he said simply, as if considering my hurried explanation. After a moment he spoke again. “You worry too much about other people. You should worry about yourself a little more often. Maybe then you would have seen this sickness coming up.”

“Sal needs my help,” I replied simply, still refusing to open my eyes. “If I don’t help her, who will?” He didn’t seem to have an answer to this and remained silent.

An odd sense of triumph settled on me as the silence grew. He knew I was right and he had nothing else to say about it.

“You’re a good person, Jessica,” he finally said as I heard him climb to his feet. I finally opened my eyes to see if he was going to approach me. He didn’t. He placed his hand on the door knob. “Is there anything else you need?” I felt momentarily panicked when I realized he intended to leave. He may have been irritating me and being far too presumptuous but it was comforting to know he was just a few steps away if I needed him.

I finally shook my head.

Cole seemed to sense my sudden distress. “If you need me again just call. I’ll be at home all day.” I nodded my head. “Thanks,” I managed to croak out, letting my eyes slide close again.

I didn’t hear the door close but there was no more sound after that.

Frustration at myself flooded through me as silence settled back on my familiar room. That had been a very stupid move to call Cole. It could only give the wrong impressions, no matter what we had talked about. And now, what was I going to tell Alex? I should have just suffered through it all. I was feeling much better now; maybe it had nothing to do with the food and water that was in my stomach and the pills to calm my fever.

Just as these thoughts passed through my head, I lurched to my feet and bounded across the room in three steps. I barely made it to the toilet before Cole’s bland lunch made a second appearance.

Strangely, after emptying my stomach, I felt slightly better. The throbbing in my head subsided some and the chills eased a bit. I was just left feeling incredibly drained.

Grateful for the good timing, if becoming sick ever had such, I climbed back into bed. I glanced at my clock next to my bed, noting it was just after one o’clock. That should give me plenty of time to sleep and wake up before Alex got home. Hopefully I would be feeling better by then.

At least I knew if I wasn’t, Alex would be a whole lot more pleasant to deal with should I need him to care for me. I sincerely hoped that wouldn’t be necessary.

A light rain began to fall outside and I found soothing comfort in it. A lot of tension had built up in my system for how early in the day it still was and the sound of the drops on the roof helped to ease some of it away. Slowly, I felt my muscles begin to relax and soften.

A new fear began though. I knew I was exhausted and as nice as it was to relax a bit, too much relaxation would lead to sleep. I had been able to face the nightmares with Alex by my side before, he somehow made them seem almost bearable but I felt the all too familiar panic and fear seeping into my system. The sound of twisted laughter echoed through my memory.

Fourteen…fifteen…sixteen…
I couldn’t help it as the numbers rattled off in my head. It was the first time I could recall counting in a few days. Perhaps that had something to do with the amazing man that was now in my life. Despite all the terrifying changes that had happened with my impossible reality, Alex made me feel incredibly safe. I had always supposed that counting just made me feel safe.

Numbers made sense and there was always a certain order they could be arranged in. I hadn’t needed them as much lately. But Alex wasn’t here right now.

With this last wistful thought of longing, I closed my eyes and allowed unconsciousness to claim me.

I knew something was different as soon as Adam came down the tunnel to get me. Everything looked just slightly off, as if all these years I had experienced the nightmares, a thin veil had been placed over my eyes. Everything seemed painfully clear and sharp now. And I was noticing things I had never bothered to consciously process before.

Adam was tall and built of pure muscle. I had never noticed before how his chest was always bare and exposed, the only clothing he wore were soft, loose white pants. His feet were bare.

It seemed strange now how the flames from the torches that lined the wall danced across his flesh.

Considering he didn’t have a gleam of sweat across his skin this seemed like it should have been impossible. Yet it was enchanting as it cast a strange glow all over him. The reflection of the fire danced dangerous and wild in his grey eyes.

The normal terror that filled me was still undeniably there as he bound my hands with the golden cord but I was so distracted by the odd clarity that surrounded me it was lessened. I could only stare at everything in wonder.

Our footsteps echoed almost maddeningly off the walls of the low tunnel as we proceeded down it. The glow of light at the end of it was almost blinding. The faint rushing of air as it flowed around us seemed like the very breath and hissing of the stones that encased us, sending violent shudders of fear down my spine.

As Adam walked me out onto the catwalk, I took in a choking breath, feeling as if my throat was suddenly closing up. I had never noticed before how suffocatingly hot it was in the cylinder. The heat coated my skin along with the moisture that hung in the air and threatened to suffocate the life out of me right then and there.

In the few moments before I knew the council would arrive, I took in the detail of the ten stone chairs mounted onto the wall before me. They were an amazing work of art.

Tiny figures were carved into elaborate scenes, encased with symbols and swirls that made no sense to me. Perhaps there was no actual meaning. They were simply meant to look as beautiful as they were.

The rustle of wings began and I noticed the fierce sound of the power behind them. My eyes refocused from the amazing thrones and took in the graceful movements of the angels as they settled themselves into them.

I did not hear their words as they spoke. I knew what they would say; the only very different part would be the name of the person I stood trial for. I did not even notice when the demented laughter rose from below me. I could not help but marvel at the beautiful faces.

They were each so flawless it made me want to cry.

Not for jealousy, that I myself could not look like that. But for the pure fact that I knew this kind of perfection existed.

Every detail and every line was flawless and flowed perfectly into the next. I found myself suddenly wishing I could lay my hand on one of their cheeks, just to see if it felt as amazingly wonderful as it looked. This desire was strongly contradicted though with a fear of what it might feel like as well. That kind of perfection was intimidating and alien.

There was an obvious difference between the condemned council members and the exalted. The latter each held a serene look on their faces. Perfectly calm and content, despite the horrific scene that surrounded them.

The condemned however, held an excited gleam in their black eyes that chilled me where I stood and made my breath catch in my throat. Wicked smiles twisted in the corners of their mouths as anticipation boiled in their systems.

The men that surrounded us everywhere were dressed the same as Adam, each of their bodies as perfect as his.

The women were dressed in simple white dresses. They reminded me of something one might see on a sculpture of a Greek goddess. The biggest difference being in how they swooped down remarkably low in the back, their beautiful white and metallic wings remaining free.

That was another detail I stared in wonder at. It was only in certain light you could see the metallic glint in their wings. It boggled my mind that this seemed to work in the same way my own imprint of wings did. When the light did hit just right, the effect was stunning and impossibly beautiful.

My blissful state of observation was broken as I finally registered the word that escaped the beautiful lips of the new leader of the condemned.

“Down,” his beautiful voice damned me.

Despite how wonderful it had been to be so detached from this trial it was not worth it as I stared horrified into the new leaders face. His eyes seemed to almost glaze over with demented glee as his wings coiled and then propelled him toward me on the catwalk. I could see my own reflection in his eyes. The merciful white bag was on my head but I could make out my terrified eyes through the small slits in it.

I could not look away from his twisted eyes as he landed beside me. I had never so awarely looked either this man or the one before him in the eye. It was a strange feeling. The mix of horror and terror, combined with the oddest sense of trust. Something about his eyes called to a place deep within me, telling me everything was going to be alright, he would only do what was supposed to be done to me.

I dropped to my knees only because I knew that was what I was supposed to do. My head bowed and I swept the hair from my neck. I heard another set of beating wings and knew the rod with the brand had been presented.

My breathing sped and came in shallow, uneven gasps.

My ears started ringing as my pulse beat in them and I felt lightheaded. The ground beneath me started tilting and spinning.

The white-hot rod was pressed into the back of my neck and my scream shocked even me. It wasn’t that of a human and couldn’t fully express the tortured pain of a human. I had never felt pain like this before. I had been branded hundreds of times before and had never felt the searing pain of the iron in my neck like this. It radiated throughout my entire body and I could not process any other thought than the desire to die, right there and then on the catwalk.

I was yanked to my feet but I still did not hear the words that were spoken to me. My head rolled back and forth across my chest, my eyes wide open but unable to comprehend anything I saw.

For the first time, I didn’t have to wait for the condemned angels to pull me off the catwalk. As soon as their leader let go of me, I simply fell off the ledge.

My scream as I woke was different. It had always been out of terror that I screamed before. This time it was out of immeasurable pain. My hands flew to my neck but I immediately jerked them away. The slightest touch sent sharp, stabbing pains radiating through my entire neck and down my spine.

Glad the spinning in my head had ended with the dream, I staggered into the bathroom. It took great effort not to scream with each step I took. Any movement was torture.

The light seared my eyes as I flipped it on and I had to cover them for a few brief moments as they adjusted. When I finally did open my eyes I froze.

I had known the dream was off, I remembered this, every detail I took in in the nightmare. But that hadn’t ended when I woke. The person who looked back at me in the mirror was all too clear to be natural.

Her large eyes stared back at me, made all the bigger by the shocked expression on her face. I could easily pick out the different streaks of green and brown in them. They were more brown on the outside edge, more green on the inside. Her nose was perfectly straight and her lips proportional to her face. While her skin could in no way compare to that of the angels, it was nearly flawless according to human standards.

I had to blink several times to realize this wasn’t just some trick of the mirror and that the person staring back at me was truly me. As I quickly glanced around the bathroom I realized
everything
had become much sharper, as if I’d had terrible vision all my life and had just barely gotten prescription glasses.

The slight movement of my head reminded me of the reason I had flown to the bathroom and I quickly pulled out my little round mirror from under the sink. Pulling my heap of hair off my neck, I looked into the small mirror, looking at the back of my neck in the other mirror.

The scar was all too familiar but today it looked almost blistered in a terrible and fierce way. And instead of its normal angry red it was almost white, as if indeed more heat than normal had been used.

As I looked into the mirror, I noticed something else that seemed odd. I had been sleeping in a plain white tee-shirt and it seemed the pattern of my wings was far more visible through it than normal. I could make out faint evidence of it along my shoulder blades, where the shirt met my skin the tightest.

I quickly pealed my shirt off, stifling my screams at the same time as pain ripped through my body. I turned my back to the mirror and peaked over my shoulder, back at my reflection.

Anyone else would not have noticed much of a difference in them but it drew my attention immediately. In the center, where, had they been real, the wings sprouted from the skin, it was more raised, spreading out towards my shoulder blades. I wished I could reach that far and tell if the feathery details were as soft feeling as they looked. The metallic sheen was far more obvious there as well. It was not often I actually saw the metallic color come through in my bathroom but it was not difficult to spot now.

“Jessica?” I jumped violently when I heard the voice from the door.

I met Alex’s shocked and questioning look for only a moment before a flood of heat rushed to my face. I was horrifyingly grateful I had been twisted in a way he could not actually see anything, my mane of hair providing a good enough cover. I twisted away, my back facing him and grabbed my shirt off the counter to cover myself. I whimpered slightly at the sudden movement as pain stabbed through my neck.

I started to yank my shirt back on over my head but before I could pull it down, Alex’s hands stopped me. His hands hovered hesitantly over my scar and traced lightly over the changed portion of my wings.

“They’ve changed,” he whispered as his fingers ran over the center portion. “The brand, it looks…painful.”

“It is,” I hissed as I finished pulling my shirt all the way down, the movement taking my breath away. “Would you mind getting me some ice?” I panted as I turned toward him, taking note of his shocked and slightly fearful expression. Alex’s face too was unmistakably clearer. It froze me in my tracks for a moment and I simply stared at him. He may not have the skin of an angel but I couldn’t resist as I did place my hand on his cheek.

“Of course,” he said, his voice low. I could see the concern in his eyes, the questions he was dying to ask. But he held off and turned to go and do as I asked.

I went to my closet and quickly exchanged the tee-shirt for a tank top that would allow easy access to my neck.

Being careful of how I moved, I walked out into the tiny living room and saw Alex wrapping a bag of ice in a towel.

I gingerly made my way to the table and sat down.

Alex came to my side and looked hesitant if he should apply the ice himself or just give it to me. I saved him the trouble and reached for it myself. I couldn’t help wincing and inhaling sharply as the cool towel met the brand.

The clock caught my eye as I opened them. “Is that clock right?” I gasped. It read just after seven.

“Ya,” Alex said, sounding confused as he checked it to his cell phone.

I shook my head as much as allowed for minimal pain.

“I’ve been asleep for six hours then,” I hissed. “I don’t know if I’ve ever slept for six hours.”

“Is something wrong, Jessica?” Alex questioned, his expression still that of deep concern. “I hate to say it but you look…well terrible, to be honest.”

“I feel terrible. Though I actually feel better than I did before.” There was going to be no getting around it. I was going to have to tell Alex everything that had happened. “I got really sick right after you left. I threw up and right after that I got this terrible fever and chills. I’ve never felt so awful in my life.”

Before I could continue Alex spoke. “You could have called me. I would have come back to help you.” I closed my eyes and nodded. “I know,” I breathed. I opened my eyes again, meeting his gaze. “I thought about it but I knew what you were doing was important. And besides, when it got to the worst of it you would have still been more than an hour away.” I took a deep breath, continuing to lock eyes with Alex. “I called Cole. He came over and helped me for a while.”

I had prepared for Alex to be upset about this fact all day so when he didn’t get angry, didn’t hold his breath, didn’t react in any way I expected, I wasn’t sure how to respond. His face remained calm, the same concern it held before was still there.

“I’m so sorry. I wish I had known,” he said soothingly.

The shock of his reaction clouded my thoughts and all I could do was nod my head.

“Why don’t you come over to the couch?” he said, no hesitation in his voice like he was trying to hold back some frustration. “You’ll be more comfortable.” Again I only nodded my head and followed him silently to my tiny couch.

“So what changed?” he questioned once we were settled, my head resting on his chest. He held the ice pack gingerly on the back of my neck for me, his other arm wrapped securely around my shoulders. “Why are the scars so different today?”

I knew that it was wrong, the way I had drug him into this whole mess of things, a mess that was becoming more messy and tangled by the day. But I was selfish. I wanted someone to talk to about all of this. I needed him to know everything.

“There is more to this whole mess than I told you before,” I began. My heart raced in my chest as I feared what his reaction might be to what I had to tell him. Again, fear of rejection and of him thinking I was crazy filled my head. “Things have been changing a lot the last little bit with the nightmares.”

Alex gave no negative reaction as I carefully explained the things that had been changing. I confessed what had actually happened the morning of Valentines when I mysteriously passed out at the sight of him with the angel wings in the snow. I still couldn’t explain the dozens of hands that had covered me nor the voice that had spoken to me in the darkness.