Two Halves Series (27 page)

When I crossed the threshold into my parents’ room, the stability in my knees disappeared. My heart sped up. It felt like they were still supposed to be there. I took a deep breath. After so many years, their scent still lingered in the air. With my eyes closed, I let my mind wander the past: seeing my mother sitting in the corner chair, reading a book: my father sliding his finger across the spines of magazines stacked under a Tiffany lamp on night tables. As I inhaled, more pictures flowed on the back of my eyelids, memories trying to imprint into my mind, and I finally opened my eyes. The pieces of furniture were positioned the same way.

On the back wall, draperies covered what I knew would be a faux window, framing black earth. I moved to the left wall and brushed my finger along one row of books. Most were science and genetics, but there were also romance novels, fiction, and magazines held in neat binders.

In the corner opposite the armchair where I’d pictured my mother, crystal figurines sparkled within a china cabinet, their reflected light casting tiny spots on the walls across the room. My attention shifted from those to the Tiffany lamps on either side of the bed. The room was cozy but sad.

I opened the drawer of the night table and unhooked the chain holding the ruby ring from my neck. The ring felt heavier than I remembered, as if resisting being apart from me. As I weighed it in my hand, it sparkled brighter, glowing with a new purplish hue that throbbed brighter, then dimmer. When I brought the ring closer to my eyes the stone faded to its original shade. Shrugging, I dropped it into the drawer.
It’d be a shame to lose you.

Sleeping was out of the question. There was too much information I had to sift through. My body recuperated by sitting in one spot. The lack of movement relaxed the muscles. Tissues restored themselves. I had to admit I was exhausted from the massive dose of electrodes I’d absorbed from the orchids, and I was convinced the heavier scents could fry some nerves in my brain. With my eyes closed through the night, I shivered as memories of past dreams came back. One made me press my fist to the middle of my ribcage.

At five-thirty, William came to my room.

“Did we have to be in separate rooms?” I asked.

“Only until we get a grip on our emotions.”

“Are you saying you’re out of control?” I teased.

“Me? Out of control? Not possible!” His sarcastic tone vibrated throughout  the room, and we laughed.

William looked better than the night before. The gash on his forehead from the fall had vanished. After a fresh shave, his natural scent blended with the smell of lavender and a spicy aftershave. The first whiff of him after being apart stimulated my senses. My body tried to absorb it without having to touch him. This time, the result of inhaling his aroma seemed to lift the fog that obscured my mind, and I thought with clarity. William was the cup of coffee I needed in the morning to wake up and function.

He wasn’t dressed like the lab technician I pictured him to be, ready to mix potions and serums. William wore brown shorts, a white T-shirt, and Sketchers.

I looked down at my similar clothing choice. “Great minds think alike.”

“They sure do.” He eyed me. Then he cleared his throat. “Didn’t you rest?”

“I’m not sure I want another night here,” I confessed.

“Tonight I’ll stay with you, if it makes you feel better,” he offered, as if nothing had occurred between us the day before.

Was he that good at controlling his emotions?

William stepped back, then automatically took my hand. “Are you ready to go outside?”

“I thought we’d be mixing serums.”

“I think it’s more important for you to learn what you can do.”

“Let’s go.” I eagerly pulled him toward the spiral staircase and skipped up every second step to the upper level.

After a liquid breakfast, William led me to the door and lifted a sun hat from the wooden hook beside it. “I think it should fit you.”

Quizzically, I took it. “Why? There’s shade everywhere.”

“Shade doesn’t protect your head from falling insects.” He glanced at me, as if gauging my response.

I cringed. Does he know? Of course—he could read my worst fear. Beetles, crawlers, fliers, spiders—anything with more than four legs made the tiny hairs all over my body stand on end. I knew they couldn’t hurt me, that I was the dangerous one, but still, the thought of one getting tangled in my hair made me shiver.

“I’ll just wear my bandana.” I pulled the fabric from my neck up to cover my head.

“What are we doing?”

“Flying!” He widened his eyes in delight.

My heartbeat quickened, and we climbed to the tree house where he opened a small cupboard in the corner.

“Put this on.” He handed me a harness.

I accepted the mass of webbing and buckles. “Uh . . . some help?”

“Sorry—I thought you’d be able to foresee how to assemble it.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “Ha-ha.”

Grinning, William knelt on the wood floor and began encasing me in the harness. I felt his breath on my inner thighs as he buckled the first strap into place. Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I secretly wished I’d worn Capris instead of the shorts that nearly exposed my bottom if I bent over.

“Control it, Sarah. Watch the beat,” he whispered, slipping the second loop of harness around my other thigh.

My pulse raced. “Sorry.” I looked down at the top of his head as he attached a third strap around my waist and double-checked the buckles. “While you’re down there . . .” I covered my mouth with my hand.

“Yes?” William tilted his head up, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Can you please pull up my sock?” I said quickly.

“Anything else?” he drawled.

“No,” I drawled back, but my heart screamed. “Yes!” I was sure he heard its plea.

William stood and pinned a yellow orchid in my hair. “And here I thought you had other needs you wanted me to tend to.” He smiled crookedly.

My pulse will not get any rest around him, will it?
I drew a deep breath to calm my heartbeat.

By the time it returned to normal, William finished assembling his harness, and we were attached. I wished we could be this close forever. We walked forward to an open platform at the end of the tree house where he connected the carabiner on our harnesses to the zip-line.

Above the canopy, the Amazon horizon was endless, an ocean of emerald treetops floating like green mushroom clouds, leaves and branches dancing under the wind’s breeze. It felt as if we were in the middle of this paradise. I’d thought I was on top of the world, but in the distance, tree-carpeted mountains rose higher.

“What’s that?” I pointed to a spot of blue glittering between the trees.

“The emerald pond,” William answered. “It’s spring-fed.”

I imagined plunging into the fresh, cool water of the spring. It had to feel refreshing in this heat.

“You want to go for a swim later?” William asked.

“Uh, I don’t know how to swim.”

He looked at me incredulously. “You’ve never been in water?”

I squirmed. “Does a bathtub count?”

“No. It’s a good thing you don’t have to learn.”

I cocked my head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see when you’re in the water.” He snickered. “You don’t know what you’ve missed out on.” His attention returned to the zip-line. “Are you ready?”

“Can you hold me?” I asked as we stepped to the edge of the platform.

“I will.” He wrapped his arms around me from behind and pushed off.

My eyes closed at first. The warm wind brushed along my face, and I opened them.
How can I take all this in?
I gaped at the Amazon’s bounteous beauty. My muscles relaxed, and I took a breath and held it, my head swinging, unsure which way to look. Everything seemed so clear. Raindrops of energy splashed on my skin, soaking my body. A natural force absorbed by my flesh became part of me. The jungle’s magnificence bathed my muscles and invaded my organs, making them stronger. Aware of the smallest particles inside me, I felt them travelling through my veins and when they reached my heart, calmness settled over me, one born of confidence. I felt invincible.

We made our first stop on a nearby platform. William guided me to the edge, and we stepped off and were flying again. I laughed joyously. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

Out of nowhere, the smell of smoke slammed into me. A vision of fire engulfing a wooden building appeared. The vision wasn’t clear, but my insides distressed as I recognized the building within the leaping flames.

“William!” I grabbed the harness with both hands. My legs went limp, and my body trembled. The tragedy I’d seen couldn’t leave my lips. My head shook violently, trying to get rid of the vision: then I opened my eyes wide, wanting desperately to concentrate on the jungle. It didn’t work; I still saw the burning cabin.

William now bore most of my weight. I could feel him tense as my terror passed from me to him.

“What’s the matter?” he asked when we stepped on the next platform. He turned my body to face his. “You’re not afraid of the height, I know that. I can’t sense—”

“No. The cabin, our home—it will burn. The laboratory will be reduced to ashes.” My eyes welled up.

His eyes widened. “Did you have a premonition?”

I nodded. “Our home will be gone.”

“That’s impossible. No one knows about the cabin. Will it get struck by lightning? Will I leave the stove on?” he asked in disbelief.

“I don’t know.” Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I fell to the platform.

“Then how?” he whispered.

“I had the dream before, except I didn’t recognize the cabin until now. And I don’t know when.” I started hyperventilating. It felt as if I was sucking air through a straw.

“Who’s going to burn it?” He knelt in front of me.

“I don’t know!” I threw my hands up.

“Sarah, think back to your vision. There must be a clue,” he pleaded, holding my shoulders.

“I didn’t see anyone in the vision . . . No, no, no . . .” I didn’t remember them in my vision, but when I’d dreamt of the burning cabin, I’d seen brightly glowing, orange eyes; the memory of them had tormented me for years. I saw them in the center of every flower, in any oval shape nature could create. They were always there.

“Seeker demons?” William saw the fear on my face. “Are they the same ones that chased us in Pinedale?”

I nodded.

William wiped the wet streaks from my face. “When? How long do we have?”

His voice didn’t shake, like mine did. “Less than three weeks. It’s not exact, but I’ve been shown less than three weeks.”

“We’ll move everything to the basement,” William said firmly. He unhooked the back harness so he could pace around the platform.

“We could stop them. We know they’re coming. We can stop them,” I begged. “They can’t destroy our home!”

“Have you ever tried to change a premonition?” he asked.

“Yes. It didn’t work.” I slouched.

William began chewing on his thumb and finally let out a long breath. “We have to assume you can’t change what you’ve seen. We can only minimize the damage. Do you know how many are coming? How do they know about this place?”

I closed my eyes trying to remember the vision, but the answers to William’s questions weren’t there.

“I don’t know. I can’t concentrate,” I admitted with frustration. “I can only see things when I’m relaxed.”

“Sarah.” He took hold of my shoulders again. “You have to try. You’re the only one who can help us now.”

“Take me to the next platform,” I demanded, concentrating on the energy I’d collected from the crown of the forest.

The click of a hook echoed in my ears. William turned us to face the rising sun. We zipped through a tunnel of trees, moving faster than before. The sun’s rays warmed my body, soaked into my bones. I could feel and hear the heat build-up from the friction of the hook on the zip-line, and I saw orange circles. My lungs filled with the warm air as I let my head rest back on William’s shoulder and gazed at the bright sky above us. The circles slowly turned into ovals. A grid, similar to that on a calendar, appeared in my mind. Concentrating, I saw the squares slowly fill with digits.
1, 2, 3 .
. .
I counted each one as a number was assigned to it.

“The seeker demons . . . they’ll be here in nineteen days, just before sunset. Just before it rains,” I said in a voice like a robot.

“That’s amazing,” William said as we jumped to the platform. He unhooked the harness and faced me. “Don’t worry, we’ll be safe. Now that we know they’re coming, we can use them.” He rubbed his hands together.

“You’re planning to fight them?” I asked in disbelief, yet a moment ago, I’d felt brave enough to entertain the same idea. Learning about the new me was beginning to take its toll. I bounced from one extreme to another—one moment human, the next vampire—as I tried to master the world of a half-breed.

“Not exactly,” William amended. He chewed his thumb again. “You’ve gained incredible strength and intuition. I have, too. In the next two weeks, we’ll have even more control. They won’t even know we’re here. We’ll follow them like ghosts, invisible shadows.” He mimed a stealthy jump from one side of the platform to the other, and I couldn’t help smiling. “Maybe they can lead us to the underworld, and our parents.”

This was a side of him I had not seen. This was a much braver William, a man more dangerous than I thought. He was not the same William who’d taken every precaution to avoid the demons.

“You’re kidding, right? They’re going to burn down our home, and we’re going to watch them do it?” He moved to pace again, but I blocked his way. “You can’t do this!”

“Think about it. How else are we going to find the road to the underworld?”

“I don’t know!” I wailed. “I’m not the underworld expert.”

“Neither am I, but I have a feeling this is our chance. Remember what Castall said?”

“You have to let Sarah go to find her,” I supplied.

“I hate the idea of you going to the underworld, but I think I have to let you go, for you to find your true self, to allow both of your halves to coexist.”