Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles) (34 page)

Read Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles) Online

Authors: Melissa Aden

Tags: #faith, #spiritual, #young adult, #love, #warfare, #god, #paranormal, #demons, #Fiction, #romance, #demonic, #Satan, #adventure, #truth, #fear, #jesus, #angels

BOOK: Fly: A PORTAL Chronicles Novel (The PORTAL Chronicles)
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“Yes. Why?”

“I’m going to lose them. Hold on.”

I braced myself as the car accelerated. The vehicle behind us followed close behind. With one deft move, Everett pinned me to my seat with one arm and turned the steering wheel hard to the right with the other. The car careened off the road and into a snow bank with a loud thud. I screamed, thinking we’d crashed. Snow covered the cars windows and I couldn’t see a thing, but we were still moving.

The snow blew off the car’s windows little by little, revealing we were on a country road. It was like another world with flat, snow-covered fields spread out before us as far as the eye could see.

“Sorry. I should have given you more warning. Are you okay?” Everett asked, removing his arm from across my shoulders.

“Mmm-hmm,” I mustered.

“We lost them.”

“Yay!” I mocked, still shaken.

Everett smiled. “I’m taking you someplace special to me.”

“Where?” He gave me his telltale look and I rolled my eyes. “You and your silly surprises. What about the pact we just made?”

Knowing Everett wouldn’t budge, I sighed, studying our surroundings. We were in the middle of nowhere. It snowed hard but the full moon revealed the path ahead. The scenery was magical and mysterious, like a snowy fairytale land, and carried a whimsy that reminded me of the feeling I’d had at the nightclub earlier in the night: anything was possible. Judging from how the evening had progressed, this was, in fact, true.

And then, as if from thin air, a large, cream-colored building appeared. The light from within it cast pretty colors on the snow below through huge pink and purple stained glass windows, adding to the fantastical feeling I was already experiencing.

“It’s gorgeous!” I exhaled.

“Wait until your inside,” Everett said, pulling to a stop in front of the building. He turned off the engine and hopped out.

“Everett,” I called before he’d shut his door. He leaned back in. “I only have Mia’s heels to wear,” I explained, holding them up for him to see. “Do you have a spare pair of shoes I can slide on? I don’t want to ruin her shoes in the snow.”

He smiled. “No problem.” He walked over and opened the passenger door. A gust of freezing air invaded the cozy car and I shivered. Everett zipped me into his coat before swooping me up in his arms.

“What are you doing?” I laughed, self-consciously pulling at the hem of my dress as he effortlessly carried me to the glass door.

“The key is in my jacket’s right pocket. Do you mind?” he asked. I nodded and fished it out. With minor struggle, I unlocked the front door, and Everett pushed it open with his foot.

He was right. The inside of the building was even more beautiful than the outside. The ceiling had to be at least fifty feet high and was decorated with ten art deco paintings of gold, bronze, and cream with a huge cylindrical chandelier hanging from the center of each. The walls were made of the same beautiful cream stone as the building’s exterior, and the stained glass of the huge windows were set in art deco starburst designs. The floor echoed the same starburst as the windows, yet in gold and cream marble. It baffled me to find such a rare jewel hidden away in a random country field.

Everett gently set me down and I shivered from the smooth coldness of the marble under my feet. We stood face to face for a time — eyes locked and magnetism visceral. I was intoxicated with longing for him to kiss me. But once again, the moment passed as he pulled away.

“Come on.” He smiled, his warm hand engulfing mine.

I walked through the large room with my head tilted back so I could study the ceiling. “I can’t get over this place. It’s breathtaking.” I paused below a particularly stunning painting.

“It’s my secret layer,” Everett said. I laughed before realizing he wasn’t joking. “It used to be a train station. PORTAL purchased it shortly after it closed in the 70s when train travel winded down. Benson and I used to work here from time to time, or we’d just come here to get away. It was like a tree house of sorts for us.”

“Some tree house! Why doesn’t PORTAL do more with it? They should turn this place into a museum or something. It seems well preserved. It probably wouldn’t take much to get it up to code.”

“Oh, it is up to code,” Everett corrected me. “But we can’t have the public here because there’s an active portal downstairs.”

“Really? I asked, immediately reminded of the portal within the hill. “May I see it?”

“No. This one’s a little… dangerous. I’d rather you not go near it.” He nervously looked around. “In fact, we should keep moving.”

Grabbing my hand, he pulled me the rest of the way, my feet slapping against the marble floor. We made our way to the far side of the Main Waiting Room, where, just ahead, an old café was. My mind wandered, wondering what his plan had to do with an ancient café, but before we reached it, we abruptly turned through a doorway, climbing a narrow stairway leading to a door.

“This is it,” Everett said. Reaching under his shirt, he pulled out a necklace attached to a large gold key that looked tarnished and worn from long years of use. Unlocking the door, he ushered me in.

The room was a large rectangle — as wide as the entire building, but not very long. Windows lined the two longest walls, the left side displaying an endless stretch of moonlit fields and the right side featuring the same stained glass as the entrance.

The marble floor was covered in various expensive-looking rugs and two large brown leather couches sat with their backs against the wall of stained glass. On the far side of the room, a heavy, ornate mahogany desk and lots of computer and electrical equipment sat, and to the right of it, a row of lockers lined the wall from ceiling to floor. Opposite the desk was a little kitchen with a sink, stovetop, microwave, dishwasher and mini refrigerator.

“Wow! This place is great,” I marveled.

“Thanks,” Everett said. “It used to be a rec room for the station employees. Want something to eat or drink?” He clicked on various lamps, making his way to the kitchen.

“Sure.” Everett pulled two grape sodas from the refrigerator. “Yay! Your favorite!” I cheered.

He smiled. “Since Mia’s dad bought the company, she’s hooked me up,” he said, opening the bottles. He handed me a soda, produced a bag of microwave popcorn from a locker and stuck it in the microwave. “You look cold.”

I nodded. “It’s what I get for letting Mia dress me.” I opened the coat to show Everett my damp dress.

His eyes bulged. “Ooo! Do that again,” he teased.

“Stop it!” I playfully hit his arm hoping he didn’t notice my flushed face.

He opened another locker, producing a sweat suit. “Put these on. They’ll be huge on you, but at least they’re warm and dry.”

“Thanks,” I said, accepting the clothes.

I padded over to one of the leather couches and plopped down, not believing how my fortune had changed. Never would I have believed the night would turn out as it had.

“Heads up!” Everett called.

I turned just in time to catch a pair of thick black socks. I pulled them on my cold, numb feet before carefully wedging the sweatpants on under my dress. I pulled the sweatshirt over my head. It smelled like fabric softener with the subtlest trace of Everett’s cologne. Unzipping my dress underneath the sweatshirt, I managed to shimmy out of it without exposing any skin.

Neatly draping my wet clothes across the back of the couch to dry, I turned to thank Everett for the sweats to find him examining his bare back in a long mirror on the back of a locker door. Seeing his well-muscled chest and stomach caught me off guard, but more shocking were the small cuts peppering his skin.

Up close the cuts were even worse, glittering pieces of glass apparent in some. “Does it hurt?” I asked, fingering a cut on his back.

He gasped. “Only slightly,” he winced.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll be fine.”

“You most certainly will not. There’s glass in your back.” I boldly took his face in my hands. “You’ve taken good care of me these past few months. Let me take care of you for once.”

“Fine,” he relented, seeming uncomfortable.

He found a kit and I proceeded to doctor his wounds. As I cared for him, I was astonished by the overwhelming emotions that bubbled up — the need to help him, nurture him, dare I say, even love him. My feelings for him went much deeper than lust, and for the first time, I felt ready to embrace them, to get lost in them.

I was no longer afraid of the electricity we generated together. A little jolt never hurt anybody. I wanted to get zapped.

Chapter 40

Redemption

I couldn’t believe Sophie had come back to me. It was all I could do not to pinch myself. Being with her now was like a dream, only it was real.

I played the night over in my head. I’d opened my big mouth and admitted to Mia that I missed Sophie, and next thing I knew, she was telling me to meet her at the nightclub tonight, citing an emergency. I should have known that she’d plot and plan in an attempt to get Sophie and me to reconcile. Everything clicked as I spotted Mia pulling Sophie down the stairs at the club, but I was too smitten to be angry.

As always, Sophie looked breathtakingly beautiful. Heads turned as she passed through the crowd on her way towards me. She was totally unsuspecting of how gorgeous she looked and the way she commanded the room. How she timidly hid behind Mia told me that much.

I mustered the courage to approach her and couldn’t believe it when she didn’t flinch away as I hugged her and kissed her cheek. Though a little tentative, I was happy for the chance to talk to Sophie, to make sure she was alright.

My only connection to her over the past month had been the dreams we’d shared. I hadn’t witnessed her day to day life, but the dreams alone were enough to drive a person mad, leaving me sick with concern for her. I woke many times in a panic, my only option to invoke Dio’s intervention. I doubted my petitioning had done much good, but Sophie now seemed fine enough.

The moment was perfect until Evan’s text came. He was working the front door since so many PORTAL agents were in attendance and Hagen had unexpectedly showed and gotten in before he could stop him. I was forced to tear myself from Sophie’s side to check things out. I looked everywhere for Hagen, but didn’t find him. Had Evan been mistaken? I gave up my search to find him pressed against Sophie on the dance floor.

Confusion, rage, terror, and jealousy ensued. I was a wreck, nauseated by the spectacle of their entangled dance.

Then the thought came to me:
This night, she must choose.
I knew it wasn’t my own thought, and was familiar with the tone of it well. Sophie had denounced Dio, breaking all ties with him. So I was doomed to helplessly watch, able to do nothing while Hagen cast his spell on her.

But I couldn’t wait. My blood boiled. What was Hagen saying to her? Was he hurting her? She looked like a zombie, limp and lifeless in his arms, staring wide-eyed into his face. I had one foot on the dance floor when—

No! Do not interfere. She must be tested. Everything will work out as it should. Wait for my signal to move.

I reluctantly stepped back. Something told me the night was very well ruined. There would be no reconciliation. No catching up. No sharing of secrets or long-contained feelings. Once again, I was being driven away from her, the one whom I loved, and told to wait.

But then Sophie pushed away from Hagen. They fought. The hold on me released as the command sounded clearly in my head.

Go now!

Once again, I was playing the hero card. Saving the day. While I was thankful for the freedom to do so, I also resented it, knowing it only reinforced my role in Sophie’s life as the inaccessible save-the-day friend that much more. If there was one thing I’d learned from my early education in comic books, it was that the superhero never really got the girl. Like so many of those stories, Sophie and I were forever stuck in our roles, revolving but never quite meeting in the middle. Because of my position as an agent, I was forever doomed to look in on her, to protect her, to be tempted by something delectable I could never taste.

With this realization came the urge to run — from the death sentence of only watching Sophie from an arm’s length, from the never-ending fear that my presence was more of a threat to her life than an advantage. After fighting Hagen only to watch him get away again, the only thoughts running through my mind were ones of self-flagellation and escape.

This game of emotions was mind-numbing. I couldn’t do it anymore. I once had fantasized and dreamed, but I could no longer make believe. Even if Sophie wanted to be with me, it was ridiculous to think Dio would ever allow it. Sophie and I could never be. The institution of “us” only complicated matters, making all involved parties that much more vulnerable.

The truth latched on, digging into my skin like fish hooks, the pain so horrendous I could hardly breathe. It was a fruitless fantasy, and letting go of it killed me.

The rest was a blur as I somehow escaped from the club. Standing outside in the valet line, I let the falling snow soak me through, cursing myself for being such an epic screw-up. I disgusted myself. It seemed so wrong to leave Sophie alone after my claim to her had been regained. Reconciliation had been all I’d pined for, but still, I ran away.

I made it to my car and was easing away from the nightclub, dreading the call I was about to make to Sal when… a game changer, a ray of light, a stroke of genius.

Sophie ran out in front of my car, looking every bit like an angel.

I savored the sight of her: her long hair blowing in the wind, the gorgeous flush of her wind-bitten cheeks, the intensity of her beguiling eyes, the sheer mist of her breath, and the snow floating perfectly about her. The sight reminded of the first time I’d met her that cold, windy day outside Brightman’s doors, yet this time, her lost, scared look was replaced by a confidence that caught me off guard. Something different was there in her eyes: a want, a need, a curiosity, a longing, or a knowing?

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