Incendiary (The Premonition Series (Volume 4)) (11 page)

He laughs
, but not with humor.
“A
ll the time,” he says
, leaning
against the counter and
crossing his a
rms over his chest.
“Why? Has Re
ed told you
his theory?”

“Reed has a theory ab
out why we’re here?” I counter
, feeling confu
sed. “What did he say?”

“
He hasn’t told you
?” he asks
, looking a little surprised.

I shake
my head.
“What…what is it
?” I ask
timidly, not sure I’m ready to hear this theory.

“
When he came to get me…after I went home,
” he says
, “Reed might’ve mentioned to me s
o
methin’ ‘bout why he thought you
chose th
is mission—
to be the first half-
breed
angel
with a soul.”

“He thinks I chose this?” I ask, feeling my anxiety increase because Reed has never mentioned anything to me about it.

“He asked me what I did
to make you
accept a mission like this one…one that not many souls would volunteer for ‘cuz th
ere are so many ways to lose you
r soul to Sheol for it,” he replies, and I shiver.

I close my eyes, rubbing my hand over them. “Uhh, this is a nightmare,” I say under my breath. “I’m sure it wasn’t anything you did.”

“He said somethin’ to me though. I can’t seem to get rid of it. Reed asked me how it was possible for him to come between two soul mates. He seemed confused by it,” Russell says, watching my reaction.

“I’m part angel now,” I point out. “Maybe if I was still entirely human, then it would be different.”

“But, that stil
l doesn’t account for you
takin’ this mission,” he says.

“I wish I knew, Russell, but I’m in the dark just as much as you are,” I reply.

“I just…if I did somethin’ to you…somethin’ that made you
have to get away…I’m sorry,” Russell says, his voice sounding strained.

“Don’t…we don’t know what happened. I’m sure it’s not you—it couldn’t be you,” I say, feeling awful.

“I don’t remember anythin’ ‘bout Paradise…I remember the life before this one,” he says.

“You do?” I ask, seein
g the lightning outside illuminate
his face. He’s starting to look a little better, not as swollen as he was earlier.

“Uh huh, it was sorta tragic…we were French,” he says with a grin.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, smiling at his remark. “Don’t tell me that we went to the guillotine together,” I add, playing along.

“Naw…
I
’m not sure what happened to you
…I was a soldier…I swear, I
’ve spent most of my lives fightin’
,” he says
with a sad
twist of his lips. “I was young—
twenty-one
and
World War O
ne
was eruptin’ in Europe.
It was the summer of nineteen fourteen
.
I’d been in love with you
sinc
e the first time I saw you
. Y
ou
were a few years younger than me
. You
r brother, Miche
l, introduced us when I came home with him for a holiday from University
the year before
,” he says
distantly, his
slow smile at the memory brings
lightness to his face. “The firs
t time I saw you
, y
ou
were
sittin’ in the music room of you
r house, playin’
the piano for
a room full of you
r b
eaus…you
were aw
ful, the worst Bach I had ever heard,” h
e grins
, his brown eyes
dancing.

“Nice to know that
nothing has changed,” I reply
with a smirk.

“
Naw, nothin’
has changed, ‘cuz
it was all an act,” he smiles
, shaking his head. “Y
ou
could play flawlessly and when they all left and y
ou
thought you
were alone, you
p
layed like you
wrote the piece you
rself.”

“That doe
s kind of sound like me,” I say
,
smiling
.
“
Did you tell me I should join a
band?” I ask, knowing what a smart
ass he can be
.

“Standin’ in the doorway of the room, I
a
sked
you
how you
managed to enchant
the very air
around you
with
just
the soft touch
of
you
r fingers,” he says as the lightning illuminates
one side of his face. “But,
t
o be honest, it wasn’t just
the music…it was seein’ you
that took my breath away.”

“So
,
what happened?” I ask
, not being able to help myself.

“Well, w
hen I went back to school,
I l
ived for
the letters you
sent me,” he admits
, glancing at me with a touch of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.
“
I
married you
in the spring of nineteen fourteen
.
It was a smaller wedding than you
should’ve had…y
ou
were
the daughter of a promine
nt lawyer in you
r town,” he says
, “but everythin’ was bein’ hoarded at that time so it was hard to get anythin’.”

“What wa
s your name?” I ask
, trying to picture the life he’s describing.

“Nicolas
…Pierpont and you were Simone…
Vassar
,” he says,
the names rolling off his tongue as if
a true Frenchman spoke them
. “Y
ou
were…L
ord, I can’t even describe you
‘
cuz there
aren
’t words for you
r kind of beauty.
I guess you’
r
e
just gonna
have to look in the mirror.
Y
ou
were a little different…smaller…with hair the color of chocolate and
you
r eyes were dark…smoky…but you
look the same somehow
—
same face.
”

“Simone,” I whisper
the name, closing my eyes and trying to s
ee if I can remember being her.

“
We d
idn’t have enough time together
before I ha
d to leave you
,” he says
, the look of pain on his face
makes
me aware
that
he’s seeing it al
l again
.

“Did
you die
…in
the war?” I ask when he does
n’t continue.

“Yeah…the last thing I remember was bein’ in a trench near the Belgium border. We were gettin
’
pounded by the kr
—
u
h…the Germans,” he says
, watching my face and seeing my confu
sion. “We had been there for week
s. It was miser
able, ‘cuz guys were dyin’ all ‘
round us from bein’ shot, but the medics were havin’ a hard time
gettin
’ to our position at
t
he front. I had a picture of you
…it was spattered with mud and grime. I was holdin’ it, when the clo
uds came rollin’ in…” he trails
off
, looking pale.

“Clouds?” I ask
, confused.

“S
ome kinda gas…chlorine maybe…the first hint of it smelled like a swimmin’
pool, but then it was…” he shakes
his head, running his hand through his hair like he does when he’s upset. “The next thing I can remember after that is being mad at my little sister, Scarlet
,
for knocking over my green
, plastic army men I had
set up in the backyard
.
I was about si
x
…in this lifetime
,” he says
, looking at my face across the island between us. “
So when y
ou
asked me before, ‘
bout why I think I’m
here…
I’
m
sure that
it’s ‘bout you
... ‘
cuz it’s always ‘bout you
.
”

Listening to the rain
softly hitting the panes of gla
ss
outside, I can see
the pain that I’m causing Russe
ll because of my love for Reed.
“Russell…
I’m not sure why we’re here, but th
ere’
s one thing that I do know: n
o one is safe around me.
”

“You
think
I care ‘bout that?” he asks
calmly. “I’ve died so many times in so many ways…but I think there’s only one way to dest
r
oy me…so I’m gonna fight for you
, ‘cuz that’s all I got, Red.”

“Russell,”
I say
, bursting
into tears and
covering my face with my hands. “You don’t understand…you
’
r
e
fighting for a time bomb!
I’
m going to blow up in your face!
It will be worse than chlorine gas…it will be Hell.”

Coming quickly around the counter, Russell put
s
his arms around me, hugging me to his body.
“Shh…ahh, c’mon now…don’t cry
,” he whispers
, kissing the top of my head.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper back.
“I don’
t know what happened between us,
but things are different now. Can’t you feel it? Just because I’ve been the only one for you forever, doesn’t mean that things can’t change. Look at us…we’re not the same, not
now. We have wings, we can fly—
conjure f
ire and make it rain…” I trail
off, sniffling.

“And we can love eternally,” he r
eplies
, leaning down like he will kiss me.

P
ulling back from Russell, I say
, “
You want to kno
w why I think I’m here?” I ask
, not w
aiting for him to answer, I go
on, “It has to be because of Reed. I know now that I’d risk anything, everything, to be with him. So stop fighting for me, please.”

Letting
h
is hands drop away from me, I see
the tragic twist
of his mo
uth
, while his brown eyes scan
my face
.
Looking away from me, he pauses
,
before turning and walking slowly
toward the door of the kitchen.

Stopping
at the threshold
, he doesn’t turn around as he says
,
“Eternity is a very long time,
Red. You
should be
sure
that
you’
r
e
makin’
the right decision before you
push me away.”

As he leaves
the room, I can feel something inside of me
recoil
ing and
urging me to go after hi
m—
to beg him to stay with me
—
to love me. It’s my soul letting me know th
at I still
love him
, even if I can’t remember
the echoes of time between us.

Rude Car

I watch
the rain falling
outside through the glass doors of the kitchen
before
open
ing
the
m
wide and
feel
ing
the cool breeze rush in
.
As
I step
outside
, I cross
the shelter of the stone porch and begin to walk in the rain. T
he water fall
s
on my face and mix
es
with my tears. Sitting down on the stone steps
of the terrace
, I put my face in my hands. In minutes,
I’m
completely so
aked.
Silently,
Reed
appears next to me and
picks
me up
,
cradling me to him
.
My arms wrap around the back of his neck as I rest my cheek against his chest.
Not saying a word, he carries
me through the house and upstairs to a room on the opposite wing from Brownie
’s
and Bun
s
’s rooms. Placing me
beside
the crackling fire
, Reed enters
the bathroom, returning with a huge towel.
After w
rapping it around me, he pulls
me against him, holding me to his chest.