Prophecy Girl (28 page)

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Authors: Melanie Matthews

BOOK: Prophecy Girl
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She wanted to cry from sweet words, but held back her tears. She didn’t come here to cry like a Banshee.

“That’s how I felt at first, but then you kept disappearing, and then you hooked up with Bree, and she kept going on and on about you two kissing, and then Lucas and I were together—”

“Forget out Bree. She doesn’t matter.” He opened his mouth, hesitated, but then asked, “Did Lucas really enter your mind?”   

“Yes, he did,” she answered, and then immediately asked, “Why were you with Bree?” She had to know what compelled him to kiss her, when he had really loved Eva all along.

He shook his head. “About Bree, I don’t know. You were with Lucas, and I was jealous, and Bree showed me attention, and I guess…I guess I wanted to forget about you, but it didn’t work.”

“Why did you decide to write that song about me? Didn’t you know how Lucas would react?”

She ran her fingertips lightly over his cuts and bruises. When she reached his cut lip, he kissed her fingertips, and she felt a thrill go through her, all the way down to her toes. He secured her arm around his neck, bringing his face closer to hers. She wanted to kiss him, but waited, keeping her lips at a distance. They had more to discuss.

After a long silence, he answered, “I had to let you know how I felt. I wasn’t sure if Lucas would realize it was about you”—he shook his head, smiling—“but I guess he’s smarter than I give him credit for.”

“And Bree,” she said. “She locked herself in the bathroom, crying. You shouldn’t have led her on.”

“You shouldn’t have led Lucas on,” he countered.

It was true, but it stung her. She pulled her arm away from around his neck.

He quickly grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eva.”

She shook her head. “No, you’re right. I used him to help me with my visions, but…I thought I did love him, but all the time I was thinking of you.”

He smiled. “I guess we both did things we shouldn’t.”

“Did you have sex with Bree? And other girls?” She blurted it out before she could stop herself, but she had to know.

His hesitation made her nervous. Finally, he asked, “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I do.” She
had
to know.

“Did you have sex with Lucas?”

“I’m not answering until you answer,” she shot back, but smiled.

He smiled back. “I don’t need you to answer. I already know that you didn’t.”

She furrowed her brow. “How?” 

“If you did, Lucas would’ve told everyone all the…sordid details.”

She gasped. “He wouldn’t!”

He nodded. “Yeah, he would.”

“But…he said he loved me.”

“And that may be true. I’ve never seen him get so jealous over a girl before.” He lightly touched at the wounds on his face.

“Answer my question,” she reiterated, but in a gentle tone.

“No, I didn’t. In fact…I’ve never had sex,” he confessed.

“What?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“No, it’s just that…well…I assumed you did because that’s how Lucas and the other guys portrayed you as—a player.”

He shook his head. “Nah, just a rumor.”

“A rumor you started?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” he moaned. “I was with a few girls, but it never went
that
far.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “That makes me feel better. I wouldn’t want my first love to have already screwed the entire Banshee class.”

“Your first love? Really?” he asked, grinning.

“Yes,” she answered, grinning too. “Am I your first love?”

“Yes, you are. I love you,” he confessed, trailing his fingers up and down her spine. “I love you, Eva Nolan.”

If she died right now, she’d be happy.

“I love you too, Devin Moran, rock star.”

He laughed. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.”

“And answering your earlier question, I wrote that song so that I could finally let you how I feel.”
She threw her hand up in the air. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

“What? Go up to a girl and say, ‘Hey, I love you.’”

“Well, that probably would’ve thrown me for a shock when I first arrived, but Lucas practically declared his love the first time
we
met.”

“It’s easy to fall in love with you,” he said, smiling sweet.

She grinned. “Why?”

He traced her lips with the rough pad of his thumb. It was a thousand times more intense than Colin’s touch, and her heart was about to explode from the pleasurable sensation. “There’s just something about you, Eva.”

She didn’t get what was so special about her. Lucas wanted her. Colin wanted her.  And Devin had been in love with since the first day they met. Eva wondered if they saw a different version of her than what was reflected in the mirror.              

“Why do
you
love me?” he shot back, smiling.

She smiled. “There’s just something about you, Devin,” she said, throwing his earlier answer back at him.

But it was more than that. It was as if they were destined to be together. She could feel it, and she didn’t need to ask him if he did too. She already knew it.

He smiled, sat up, and motioned for her to as well. Now they were sitting side-by-side on the chair.  

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out something that he kept hidden in his hand. “I have your present.” 

She pulled the red envelope out. “I thought this was it.”

He laughed. “No! I’m not going to give the girl I love an index card!”

“Oh,” she said, stuffing it back into her pocket. “Well, what is it then?” she asked, excited.

“This,” he said, opening his hand, finally revealing his secret.

It was a shiny golden locket attached to a golden chain. He gently took her hand, and placed his loving gift, slightly heavy, in the center of her palm. 

She gasped. “It’s beautiful. How much did it cost? Did you get it on sale?”

He laughed. “It didn’t cost me a thing.” 

“You stole it?” she asked, unsure now if she wanted to accept it.

“No, honey, I didn’t steal it. It’s…why are you smiling?” he asked, smiling himself.

She grinned. “You said ‘honey.’ It was nice.”

“Ah, I see. Well
honey
, I didn’t steal it. Actually, it was my mom’s…before she died.” His face fell, saddened.

“I’m sorry.” She immediately reached out for his hand and held it. 

He gently clenched her hand. “It was years ago. I want you to have it.”

“But it was your mom’s. Are you sure?”

He smiled. “Very sure,” he said, nodding. “Open it.”

She did as he instructed and the moonlight magically illuminated what was inside. “Is that a four leaf clover?”

“Yep. For luck. I found it my first year here. I was sitting outside, looking at the shamrocks, and I saw one, just
one
that was different. It was this,” he said, pointing to the laminated four leaf clover that was inside the locket, instead of a picture. “I was going to give it to my mom when I saw her on Christmas break, but when I got home, she died.  She was battling cancer and well…anyway”—he shook his head, fighting back tears—“I, uh, kept it, and asked my dad if I could have her locket. She always wore it and inside was a picture of me. She always said
I
was her good luck charm.” He shrugged. “Guess that wasn’t the case. She died anyway.” Now a few tears fell from his eyes.

“No, no, baby, don’t believe that. You couldn’t do anything about it,” she consoled, brushing his tears away, crying herself. 

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her fingertips, the back of her hand, and her palm. “I want you to have it,” he said softly, and then brushed the sympathetic tears from her cheeks.   

He took the locket from her hand, undid the clasp to the chain, and moved to a sitting position behind her. She tucked her long black hair aside, so he could place it around her neck, and she held the locket in her hand, admiring its beauty, his gift, his love. When he locked the clasp, he brushed his thumb against the back of her neck, massaging her skin. In the same spot, he kissed her once, twice, and then he began trailing kisses down her neck, causing her head to roll back, moaning in pleasure. When he pulled away, she reached up behind her, and grabbed the back of his head, her fingers clenching his black hair. She pushed him back down in a desperate plea for his soft lips to continue their exploration of her sensitive skin.

He was only too willing, forcibly kissing her neck, and then tracing the tip of his tongue in circles against her skin, while his eager hands palmed her breasts. After what seemed like forever, he turned her to face him. They leaned forward, their mouths open, sucking in each other’s ragged breaths. Their lips touched, then separated, then touched, then separated. Finally, Eva lunged forward and took him. He responded by kissing her urgently, as if he were a thirsty man in the desert, and just received the precious water that he had longed for. Devin fell back against the chair, pulling her to him. She straddled his lap with her arms around his neck, while his hands clutched her behind. He pushed her closer to his body, against his pronounced eagerness. They kissed like the world was about to end and Eva was ready. She was ready to have sex—with Devin. She didn’t care about the consequences. She loved him. He loved her. It was meant to be. There was only thing she didn’t know.

She pried her lips off of him, took a breath, and asked, “Can you enter my mind?”

His mouth hung open, his eyes veiled. “What? Enter your mind?” he asked in raspy voice. 

“Like Lucas could,” she explained.

He grunted. “Don’t mention that piece of shit while we’re making out.”

“No, it’s just that I need to know. I thought that Lucas was the one for me, because he could enter my mind, ease my sorrow.”

“And now?” he asked, worried.

“I love you, only you,” she assured him, “but I need to know if other Leprechauns can do it, and if you can’t, then I need to know why Lucas is so special.”

And if he was this danger Muirgen and Aghamora had warned her about—controlled by a warlock.

“Okay, but shouldn’t we wait for a vision?”

She had asked Colin the same thing, but she was certain if Devin tried, he could do it. But if he couldn’t, then Lucas had a lot of explaining to do.

“No, just do it,” she urged. 

He smirked at her statement, but she didn’t mind, and smiled at him.

“Go on,” she continued.

“Okay, here goes, but I’ve only ever done this with non-Banshees, and I didn’t like it.”

“Lucas said the same thing.” She spoke more to herself than Devin. “He said that people’s minds are chaotic.”

“They are and can we
please
stop talking about that psycho?!”

“Okay,” she moaned. “Do your thing.”

They lay there with her on top of him, gazing at each other. She didn’t think about what he was doing, instead she was looking over his wounds, his cuts, his swollen eye, wondering if she’d hurt him when they kissed. She felt the urge to ask, but didn’t.

After what seemed like forever, he said, “Nope,” and shook his head, “just a black veil. Can’t get through.”

She didn’t know whether to be relieved, worried, or sad. She wished that Devin could enter her mind. It would prove that Lucas wasn’t that special. And that he wasn’t her soul mate. Devin was. She didn’t know why she was so sure of her love for him, but it was so simple that she couldn’t deny it. But if neither Devin, nor Colin could enter her mind, why could Lucas? And from how the headmaster reacted that wasn’t good. She still hadn’t heard from Mr. Quinn about his contacts in Dublin and what they came up with. Since the four months of nothing, she assumed that they had no damn clue what was going on. 

Eva wanted to tell them to go talk to Muirgen and Aghamora. They seemed to know something they didn’t want to share with her.

If Lucas was the only one who could enter her mind, and the headmaster thought that was dangerous, then maybe he was the doomed Leprechaun being controlled by the warlock. But Eva couldn’t help thinking that something was off. He never took advantage of her mind. Three times he had prevented her from seeing death. He had
helped
her. So why is he the bad guy? 

Well, he’d almost beat Devin to death. He’d even said he wanted to kill him. Was that just talk?

“What are you thinking about?” Devin asked, scanning her worried face. “Are you upset, or glad I wasn’t able to break through?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what to think.”

She wanted to tell him about Muirgen and Aghamora, but she worried that he would think she was crazy, having conversations with her deceased ancestors—especially with one that looked
exactly
like her.

“Do you…”—he swallowed, nervous—“do you want to be with Lucas?”

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