Discern (46 page)

I remembered most of what I had read last night, or shall I say earlier this morning, but I hadn’t really gotten to the part of her death yet. He was mostly describing about his time away at battle and how he longed to be near her once more.

It was exactly what I was worried about reading. It brought on a little jealousy. I could not imagine Andrew would have enjoyed reading about how I missed Braden when I was away at school in
California
, but I knew this was different—this is how he felt about me now. But a part of me secretly hoped he loved me more than her, as he had once said before. It was a selfish need as she and I shared the same soul, but I needed this reassurance after the horrible experiences that love had thrown my way.

I shoveled the last bite of cookies into my mouth and set the bowl of sloshing milk aside on my nightstand. I reached for the journal from underneath my comforter. I flipped open to the page where I had left off and began carefully processing each word he wrote.

Understanding each sentence could be difficult at times. I assumed he had translated the journal in English for me, as I had studied the ancient Greeks and knew they did not speak this language. I imagined him simply opening the book and suddenly all the words were translated to English, as that was probably one of his many abilities. My mother had translated the other journal that allegedly was his father’s. That was one of the main reasons why I had never read the book.

His words were harsh at times about his siblings, as he seemed to feel anger about their unwillingness to fight in wars. He was always expected to lead the missions and command the troops while the rest of them gathered together in luxury. His bitter feelings toward his family hadn’t changed since then. I wondered if he felt the same bitterness as he completed this mission and if the others were really doing the same thing—or was the dirty work left to him.

I finally reached the spot where he was returning home from war. His harsh words now faded to a much softer tone as he anticipated seeing her. Her warm, beautiful brown eyes and dark, olive skin called to him on his journey back home. His hands would soon caress her wavy, dark brown hair, which had the fragrance of vanilla.

He spoke of the sparks he felt when they touched, but was saddened that she could not feel them. He knew if she could feel them, she would understand how much that he and she were destined to be, as he had never felt these sparks with any mortal or immortal. Her once dull brown eyes were now that of sparkling, smoky quartz stones that reminded him how his touch had changed her.

He feared at first that this change might have altered her soul, but was relieved to know that it had not. Her soul was just as pure as it had been from the first day he laid eyes on her. His touch had not altered such beauty, but only marked it for the others to know she was his. This pleased him, as he wanted none of the others to touch his beautiful mortal love.

He spoke of the excitement of seeing her face with his return, and his plan to pay a dowry to her parents for them to be wed, as this was the custom for commitment during that time. His kind was not accustomed to setting such limits to their love life, but he was ready to make her immortal, and spend eternity loving only her.

He understood his family would be disappointed, especially Abrielle, as she still desired for them to be close with one another on special occasions. But his desire for her had died, and he wanted nothing to do with her anymore. She was one of his only supporters, but he knew it was only because of the lust she felt for him. His father would not approve of his mortal love, but his father rarely approved of any of his decisions, so this would be no different.

He recalled the moment he entered the small village where she resided and quickly felt the presence of one of his kind. He raced to her stone house, which sat right inside the main gates of the village. He pushed open the gates and hastily knocked on her door. He rarely used his abilities in her presence, as they seemed to frighten her. There was no answer. Not a sound came from her home. He decided to use his powers and enter the home undetected. He walked into the hallway and heard a muffled sound coming from the bedroom.

He threw open the door to witness his sister and father standing over
Alexandria
, holding a sword atop her chest, near her heart. His father called for Abrielle to stab the sword, and before he could push them both off her, Abrielle pushed down, instantly puncturing
Alexandria
’s heart.

In a fit of rage, Andrew threw both of them off of her and grabbed
Alexandria
’s body before they could consume her soul. He quickly withdrew the sword from her bleeding heart and disappeared into a field a few miles from the village.

She was still breathing, but gasping for air. He tried desperately to heal the hole in her heart, but it was too late. The wound was too deep. Blood began gurgling from her mouth and she said her final goodbyes as she took her last breath.

“You’re my one and only love. You are my God, and I’ll see you in heaven and we’ll meet again,”
Alexandria
gasped.

“No, no I am not your god. I am not a god at all,” Andrew cried.

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. He cursed those who had caused him so much pain and plotted to avenge her death. He watched as her soul departed, safe from harm.

He did not move for days as he sat beside her decomposing body, watching death destroy the once beautiful, young woman that he adored. His thoughts raced back and forth as to what he planned to do to his father and sister, but he knew those attempts would fail, as they could not destroy one another.

He eventually took her body to a place atop a mountainside, far away from his family. He dug a grave to properly bury his love. As he picked up her body, her skin began to tear, bringing the realization that his one and only true love was never going to return. He vowed to never love again, because no other soul would be as pure and beautiful as hers. He placed the last speck of dirt over her grave, leaving it unmarked so no one would pillage it.

He spent hundreds of years away from his family, unable to cope with her death or their hand in it. He searched far and wide for a soul as beautiful as hers, but could never find one that even came close.

He saw many souls that were pure, but nothing called to him as hers had. Her soul had been made especially for him, he was certain of this. His journeys brought many sexual encounters with mortals, but not one of them compared to the experiences he had with
Alexandria
. Nothing compared to the touch of her hands or the scent of her skin. It was a high he was certain to never obtain again.

He was eventually forced to return to his family. The creator believed it was time to move on and fulfill his destiny once more. He knew there were roles to be played, and he also knew that keeping his enemy close was a must if he ever planned to avenge her death. He was hopeful one day he would find a weakness and be able to penetrate it.

His family apologized for causing such pain, but he knew it was not genuine. They only did it so he would use his ability of leadership and hatred to benefit their cause. He could not deny the hatred he felt was more intense than it had ever been. He was ready to fulfill his duties as Ares, and the opposing armies of
Greece
would feel his wrath of destruction.

He went on to explain throughout his many changes, from Ares to the Roman God Mars, that he never once forgot her death and never found another soul like hers. His pain was intensified as he watched his siblings go on with their lives, never to be haunted with the loss of true love.

He was certain of his destiny—to be alone for eternity. He could only assume this loneliness was needed to fulfill his role as a hated leader, one not afraid of anything, who would shed blood for no reason but to cause harm to those that opposed their leadership.

I closed the journal with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I imagined her reaching for him as she bled to death, thinking he was her god and believing she would be reunited. He knew that he would never see her again, and the pain it caused for him to watch her take her last breaths. I thought about him sitting with her decomposing body, hoping somehow she would return to life.

Andrew had been right to allow me to have a glimpse in to the pain her death caused him. His persistence with this mission now made sense. He was determined to continue the charade as long as it took to keep me safe. He would never sabotage their plan if it meant that death would come to me, which scared him, so how could I expect him to be so brave? He had been through the pain once before and did not plan on it occurring again. For I knew my death would cause more outrage and pain than hers.

I set the journal aside. It was now three in the morning. I had been reading for nearly twelve hours. I was pretty sure Andrew had expected this journal to last more than a day, but I was proud of myself for even opening it up.

I had expected the book to be more upsetting, but I was pleasantly surprised by how I had become more understanding of his behavior and actions. He was a complex creature, but his love for her and his love for me proved how human he could be at times. He understood how it felt to love and would never do anything to jeopardize that love. This realization was reassuring, as I had bad experiences with others that had put my love in jeopardy for selfish reasons.

Braden came to mind. He hadn’t attempted calling or texting me today, as my phone had been silent. Maybe today was the day he finally accepted that it was over and hopefully was moving on with his life. I wanted him to be happy, as happy as I was.

Braden had wounded me, but Andrew had come along at the right time and healed that wound. Not one trace of his infidelities bothered me anymore. The past two weeks with Andrew had been amazing. Not to say it hadn’t been a roller coaster of emotions or events, but what he was and what he did didn’t seem to matter.

I looked past all of his flaws, which weren’t many, and saw something so stunning that I could now understand how humans once believed they were Gods. I doubted that if they revealed themselves to man as they had done years ago, man would not fall victim again to the same beliefs as they once had.

Their abilities were impressive and something right out of a fiction novel—a fiction novel where I held a supporting role, and he would always be the main character.

My head softly hit the warm, fluffy pillow. My eyes could hardly stay open as I drifted off in thought about Andrew, hoping he would safely return, and soon.

23

Displaced

I awoke to the sound of the doorbell frantically ringing and fierce pounding on the front door. I quickly cleared my eyes to reveal yet another gloomy, sunless afternoon sky, which was rare for
Boulder
. It was two-thirty according to the clock. I had once again slept right in to another October afternoon. I looked in my dresser mirror and was horrified by the sight.

I quickly pulled my comb through the knots and raced downstairs. I peeked through the small peephole to reveal who had disturbed my sleep.

“Hey,” I said surprised.

“I’ve been calling and knocking for like thirty minutes,” Ryan said worried.

“Sorry, I was in a pretty deep sleep.”

“Can I come in or do you have company?” he said, gritting his teeth as he prepared for the answer.

“No, I’m alone. In fact, I’m alone all weekend long,” I pouted.

“Really?” He seemed surprised as he stepped through the door.

“Yes. My father is in Vegas and, well, I didn’t really have any other plans,” I shrugged.

He seemed a little irritated. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I’ve been really busy reading this book for Literature class,” I lied.

“You had me worried.”

“Sorry.”

“Well I can’t stay long. I’ve got to get ready for the dinner tonight,” he sighed.

“Have fun with that,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes. “I wish I had better plans.”

“Me, too.”

He placed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small, brass object. “Here’s the key to the shelter,” he said, handing it over.

“Thanks,” I said, taking the key from his hand. “What’s the alarm code?” I asked, remembering I would need it to close down properly.

“Oh, yeah,” he said surprised. “Do you have a piece of paper?” he asked as his eyes searched around the room.

“Yes,” I said, pulling open the drawer of the console table and retrieving a pen and paper.

He began scribbling a few numbers down and folded the paper in half. “Don’t forget to only alarm the front office, not the shelter—the attendants have that area secured. I wrote the code to the office and which buttons to press, but if you have any trouble, just give me a call,” he explained.

“I think I’ve got it. I’ve locked down my dad’s dealership before,” I smiled.

“I know you’re competent enough to do it, but really, call me if you need anything.” His voice begged.

“I will.”

He headed to the front door. He turned around before turning the doorknob. “Thanks for doing this,” he smiled.