Ethereal (26 page)

Brielle and Drake are already in her Jeep. Drake looks terrified as though my lawless behavior might rub off and cost him a night in the psych ward, too.

We take the coastal route. It’s magical at night with the moon spraying its light across the water. I can’t wait to take a nice relaxing walk with Logan, feel the sand between my toes. We can skip rocks and cuddle by the fire, roast marshmallows on the open flame.

“I have the very distinct feeling of foreboding.” Drake announces in a dramatic fashion from the back.

“So like, you want me to pull over so you can puke?” Brielle contorts her features with utter disgust.

“No,
foreboding,
” he repeats. “It means eminent danger, misfortune up ahead. I’ve felt like this before and bad things happened. I’ve got this sixth sense for danger.”

“So I’ll drive slow. And I won’t drink. Arrive alive.” Her voice ends on an up note.
   

The possibilities of Drake’s premonition jag in my brain like an out of control train. How come I don’t feel any of these things? Shouldn’t I be the one with some built in warning system?

The radio goes to static, and Brielle leans in and switches it off.

A car stalled on the side of the road garners our attention. The hazards are blinking and there’s a woman scissoring her hands wildly into the air.

“Looks like she needs help.” Brielle doesn’t hesitate to pull in behind her.

“Are you nuts?” I ask. “She could have a gun or be an ax murderer. It’s eleven thirty at night. We don’t need to be helping anybody.”

“Relax. She probably just needs to borrow my cell or something. It’s not L.A., sheesh.” Brielle gets out and walks over. The woman steps into the beams from Brielle’s headlights. There’s something familiar about the woman’s wild frizzy mane. Brielle pulls her cell out of her pocket and hands it over.

“Look’s like she was right.” I say looking back at Drake.

A pair of headlights slow and pull in behind the Jeep.

“Looks like helps arrived for the helpers.” Drake leans back and closes his eyes.

I watch as a large framed man comes over to the driver’s side window.

Brielle is so right. I would have had ten thousand panic attacks by now if this was L.A., but it’s Paragon. Paragon, where you could probably walk the streets alone, barefoot and naked, and still nothing would happen to you.

The woman standing with Brielle walks up towards the front of the car. She looks right at me and starts in on a spasmodic wave.

A scream gets locked in my throat. It’s her! The woman, the ghost—the
whatever
who hung herself outside my kitchen door!

I start in on a spasm of wild panting and pointing.

“What?” Drake leans into the front seat.

A man jumps out of the shadows and snatches Brielle, stuffing her into the backseat of the car.

Without warning the woman jumps into the driver’s seat of Brielle’s car, and a man appears next to Drake.

I don’t think the back door ever opened.

I don’t think either of them are human.

Chapter Fifty-One

Taken

We drive for miles through the backwoods of Paragon. Drake is bound and gagged, and both our cells have been confiscated. The guy in the backseat who happens to be wearing a black ski mask has managed to secure my hands behind my back with plastic ties, and placed a blinder over my eyes.
 

After a long, severely bumpy ride, the car crawls to a stop and the driver’s door opens. The night air is heavily scented and reminds me of an Italian seasoning my mother uses that I absolutely hate.

The bandana gets ripped off my head and part of my hair with it.

“Ouch.” I see the woman’s car from the side of the road just up ahead, so that must mean Brielle’s here too. I look around for signs of either Bree or Drake, but it’s eerily quiet. They’ve both mysteriously disappeared.

“Come on.” The masked man plucks me from the car. He pulls at me to follow, but I’m stuck. My hands are catching on the seatbelt. When he strapped the makeshift handcuffs on me, he didn’t realize my belt was still on.

“Get her hands out.” The woman hisses.

Her face is an odd shade of grey and her hands are skin over bone with long knobby fingers that look twice the size they need to be.

“I can’t, it’s stuck and these things are a bitch to get off. I need a knife.”

“Then get a knife!” She shrills into the night air eliciting a series of echoes.

He reaches into the ground and opens a small door. I watch in amazement as the hole in the earth lights up, and he descends down a stairwell.

It’s some kind of underground passage. Who’s ever going to find me down there?
 

The lone baritone chirp from a high up branch adjacent to where I’m standing captures my attention.

It’s the raven! I remember how Logan put his finger to his mouth and pointed towards the east, and the bird took off and sent Gage over—only my hands are bound. I doubt I’ll be able to do the same thing. I swear it’s looking at me—
watching
.

Go
and
get
Gage
. I think right at the bird. It’s Gage’s bird, I surmise. It’s always a precursor to when I see him. If Logan had a cool bird like that, I’m sure he would have told me. Actually I take that back. Apparently he’s not above saving tricks for later.

Go
and
get
Gage
! I shout as hard as I can in my mind. Still nothing.

I can almost hear Logan telling me gifts can be learned. Right now I want to learn to talk to birds. I hear Logan whisper the word
believe
into my subconscious. OK. I shut my eyes tight.
I believe you will get Gage for me now
. I look up, still nothing.

It’s funny, but I do believe this. I do believe the bird is going to get Gage, and I’m going to get out of this mess, and everything’s going to be just fine.

Just then the bird takes off and a swell of relief fills my chest.

I let go of a huge breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and give a hint of a smile.

A giant man in a ski mask comes right at me.

“No,” I shake my head.

He holds up a machete and grunts as he slices the seat belt right off my shoulder from the back.

All of the relief I felt a moment ago has drained. I let out a scream as he picks me up and carries me below the surface of the earth.
  

                   
                                     
***

Long, winding corridors—spacious corridors at that. It’s well lit, painted stark white with matching glossy floors. It reminds me a little of West Paragon High, and I have a gut feeling Logan and I aren’t going to have any classes together down here either.

“Can you let my friends go?” I don’t dare call Drake my brother. They’d drag him off to the chop shop if I even implied it.

“Shut up. I hate the sound of your voice.” The woman snaps. Her flame-red shaggy hair billows out as her voice continues to echo.
 

“What’s wrong with my voice?” Actually I didn’t mean to say that out loud, I was more…

“Silence.” Her caustic screech ricochets off the walls.

I hate
your
voice I want to tell her.

“You’re going to love it here.” She motions to a stark white room with a large stainless tray that strikingly resembles the one Logan showed me at the morgue.

Shit! I wiggle like mad to free myself from the strong mans grip.

The woman opens a tiny door in the back and I fall in like a sack of potatoes. I look back to see her waving before shutting the door. A small glass window shows them moving around, sliding a tray on casters with an assortment of sharp tools towards the metal bed. The guy with the mask pours a dark red liquid inside it, and starts scrubbing it down.

“They’re sanitizing it.” A male voice whispers from behind.

“Gage!” I cling to him so tight I think I’m going to push through.

“Logan’s on his way.”

“Can’t you just zap me out of here? I’ll believe it and everything.” I sputter the words in a desperate panic.

“It doesn’t work like that.” He reaches over to the plastic ties binding my hands and I feel a release of pressure. He holds up a set of tiny pliers before slipping them back into his pocket.

“So you could never be contained? No one could ever trap a Levatio?” That’s the first gift I’m going to learn.

“Not true. All they have to do is touch me and I can be bound.”

The door behind me rattles. I can see her red fiery hair rising in the window. My arms fall loose to my sides as Gage blinks out of the room.

“We’re ready.” She sings.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Tinder

“Let go of me!” I shriek as the masked man drags me over to the table. “No!” I yell. He places his hand over my mouth and I bite down hard.

“Hey!” He barks plucking his finger from my teeth.

While he inspects his wounds I take the opportunity to lift my knee aggressively into his crotch. He lets out a slow moan, moving to the side like an injured puppy. I don’t see scary lady with the freaky bad hair so I bolt out of the room and start running down the hallway.

What if I was supposed to go left, and I went right? I come upon a series of shut doors, and I’m too afraid to open them. I can’t help Brielle or Drake. I’m a lousy angel. And who asked me if I wanted this, anyway? Soon as I get out of here I’m going to get a blood transfusion. I want out—out of this crazy hamster maze, away from bat-shit crazy people who want to kill me. I never asked to be a Celestra. I never wanted this. If I didn’t come to Paragon and meet Logan I’d still be living my clueless life back in L.A. where I’d be shopping and hitting the beach, and probably getting killed trying to navigate a twisted L.A. freeway…like my father.

I stop running. I’m not sure, but I think I made a revolution around the place— only the door to the slaughter house is now closed. It’s no use. They’re probably watching me on their security cameras, or using their sixth sense, while I wear myself out.

Gage where are you?
I shout into my mind with all my might.

God, help me.

A slight buzz erupts just beneath my feet.

Huh?

It happens again. It’s not an earthquake. I’m familiar with those. This is right underneath my shoes. I take a step forward and it happens again, but stronger. I start walking and it picks up, but when I go to make a left down the hall it stops.

Should I follow the buzzing? Are buzzing feet good or bad? Good vibrations. Is that what this is?

Gage
? I continue to follow the buzz. If I’m going to get sliced and diced, I may as well get a free foot massage out of it.

The vibrations increase. They file through my leg and up my torso, rattling my bones. It’s probably some slow form of electrocution, and I’m too hopped up on adrenalin to notice. The vibrations expand into deep sweltering waves. They ride up my body until I start to feel a familiar rhythm in my brain, something…I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve done this before.

I clasp the side of the hall, lean into it and feel the cool of the wall against my cheek. Feels like I’m falling asleep on my feet, like I’m tumbling through the air in a freefall.

                                                        
***

The radio goes to static, and Brielle leans in and switches it off.

A car stalled on the side of the road garners our attention. The hazards are blinking and there’s a woman scissoring her hands wildly into the air.