02 Awaken-The Soulkeepers (7 page)

“Nope.”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to tell you.” Michael grows serious and clasps both of my hands in his. “Sophia, I made the winter trials.”

My heart stutters and I stare at him. I let it sink in for a moment, and then I throw
my arms around his neck. “Oh, Michael! I’m so happy for you! You’ve waited so long for this!”
I can’t believe it! He has finally made it!

I sit back and listen as he tells me everything: about the Halo Master elevating all the candidates, which gave him the idea to try it on me, about the storms and the lightning and the subzero temperatures. He endured terrible pain but he’s trying to play it cool. He managed far better than the others, and I can tell he’s proud. Michael impressed the Halo Masters and is ready for the next trial.

I smile and nod and realize—with a pang of guilt—that I’m jealous. Michael’s dream is coming true, and I’m plagued with doubts that I have somehow lost my chance to become a spirit walker. The idea nearly chokes me up, and my chin quivers. Michael stops talking. His face becomes still, and then he wraps an arm around me.

“I’m sorry, Sophia. I should’ve realized …”

I lay my head on his shoulder and sniffle. “It’s great, Michael. Really. I’m so happy for you, it’s just that … I’ve been waiting so long, too, with no word and—”

He strokes my head. “Babe, it’s probably for the best. I’ve told you before, this kind of stuff isn’t for everyone. Sometimes an Awakening just doesn’t come to fruition. It’s nothing personal.” I lift my head and give him a pointed look. “Okay, so it is personal. But there are a million reasons why it doesn’t advance beyond visions. Besides, you know I don’t want you involved in the spirit world. It’s too dangerous.”

This sets my teeth on edge, and I glare at him. “But it’s not your decision, Michael.”

He sighs in frustration; I am the broken record he can’t bear to hear again. We’ve been over this a hundred times before.

Michael looks out across the valley, lost in thought, and my shoulders slump. This is not how he expected the evening to go, and I feel bad. He has great news. We should celebrate. Which reminds me …

“So these Halo Masters don’t suspect anything about us? They don’t know you’re in love with a human?” This brings him around and he looks at me. His eyes are so beautiful and pale; the blue almost appears white beneath his thick black lashes. But he lowers his chin and gives me a heated look that sets the pale blue churning.

The change is even quicker this time, almost bypassing cobalt and flashing straight to indigo. Michael’s desire is palpable, and my whole body is responding. My second heartbeat drums feverishly and my tummy clenches. I’m aching with some strange, ethereal need. Michael pulls me onto his lap and looks deep into my eyes.

“They don’t know anything,” he murmurs seductively. “I’ve learned to harness my desire for you and use it for another benefit.” While he says this, he is unbuttoning
my coat and sliding his hand inside my shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. I catch my breath, feeling my body grow warm beneath his touch.

We grin like lovers, and I realize this is what Michael wants, for us to be lovers.

I tremble from his effect on me, but Michael frowns and cocks his head. I know this look; he is sorting through my emotions, deciphering if I’m cold or nervous. I want it to be the cold but I know it’s the nerves. So many times I’ve thought about being with Michael, making love to him. Sometimes I imagine that we are just two ordinary people falling in love and expressing that love. It’s a beautiful thing.

But always I remember who Michael is and the caution we must take when kissing. Just kissing! I don’t know how dangerous it would be for Michael to make love to me. We’ve never talked about it.

Michael has made his assessment and withdraws his hand. He’s impossible to read but I feel his disappointment. He looks back at the view so I can’t see his eyes. I suspect they are returning to normal. I watch the lanterns flicker purple all around. It occurs to me that they match his eyes when he is aroused. I wonder if it’s a coincidence or Michael’s way of telling me something.

“You’re scared,” he says, still staring ahead. “You know I want to make love, and you’re scared.” He looks at me and knows. “You’re right. I do want you. And I don’t know what it will do to you if we make love. And you should be scared. I’m scared. But I still want you, Sophia. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

I’m nearly panting from nerves. Michael’s unrestrained honesty always astounds me, and I don’t know how to respond. My first instinct is to walk away and think, but I’m sitting on a frozen waterfall in the middle of nowhere.

I clutch my hands in my lap and stare at the tips of my boots. I wonder when things changed, when Michael became willing to risk my life to test the limits.

“Just so we are clear,” he says firmly. “We
are
going to make love, Sophia. But I’m willing to go slowly because you’re nervous. First things first. Yes?”

Go slowly? And just what does that mean? Slowly into dating? Slowly onto the bed?

“Stop dissecting everything I say,” he orders and then caresses my cheek. His eyes soften and grow darker. He stares at my mouth as he slides his hand into my hair, bringing me closer. He lowers his mouth onto mine in a soft but demanding kiss.

Mmm. My eyes close and I accept his warm, sensuous kiss. The familiar sparks ignite between our lips, and we turn our heads, breaking the connection before deepening the kiss in the opposite direction. Over and over, we pull back, rotate, adjust, so the sparks don’t tap into my circulation and change the course of my blood.

Michael pulls me closer, sliding his mouth down my neck. He tugs at my sweater so he can reach Michael’s hollow, that tender place along my collarbone that he claimed as his. It’s where he likes to kiss and occasionally bite.

He turns my head aside, exposing my throat where he nips and bites. Waves of tingles flood my body, making me arch and press against him. Michael bites hard and sucks, and I feel my pulse gather in his mouth.

Oh, Lord! This is new!

I groan and he releases his bite, and a river of blood rushes into my head.

“Wow,” I whisper. “That was … strange and …” Michael looks down at me and, for a moment, I think one of his eyes has changed to dark brown. “What the …” I sit up and blink but it’s gone. Both eyes are the same again, and I think I’m losing my mind.

Michael asks what’s wrong but I can’t tell him. I don’t want him to worry that our kissing is making me imagine things. Besides, I can’t really be sure I saw anything.

“I’m fine.” I take a deep, calming breath.

He wraps an arm around me, rubbing my back. “Maybe this is too cold for you, after all.”

“But I’ve always longed to be a Popsicle.” I snuggle my frozen nose against his cheek. He grasps my chin, guiding me up to look him in the eyes. Michael is serious so I am, too.

“If we’re going slow at this, I suppose there is something I should ask you.”

“Yes?”

“Sophia, will you go to the Winter Carnival dance with me?”

I lean back and stare. I’ve heard everyone talking about this at school. It’s the biggest, most spectacular event of the year. Bigger than prom because it involves the entire town. It’s a black-tie, fancy-schmancy affair. I heard that the governor and a senator showed up last year. More important, it’s the only event that Michael’s parents attend.

“But how … I’m confused, Michael. Raph told me your parents will be there, so how can we go together?”

Michael’s eyes narrow. “Why were you and Raph talking about the dance?”

“What? Oh, I don’t know. Everybody was talking about it. He said you guys never go.”

“We don’t but our parents do. There is a lot of local and state politics that goes on there.”

“Like on golf courses?”

“Something like that. And I thought you and I could go. We just couldn’t show up
together
together. But we could dance.” He smiles encouragingly, and I consider.

“But to avoid suspicion, you would have to dance with other girls, too, wouldn’t you?”

Michael nods. His face is grave.

“What a sacrifice,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to dance with other guys then.” I sigh like it’s a chore. I’m teasing, of course, but Michael doesn’t share my humor.

His eyes blaze and he jerks me against him. He buries his face in my hair and then his lips move down my throat, his teeth scraping along my skin before sinking into the long thin muscle. I gasp and shiver from the effect. It hurts but then the pain turns to pleasure, and I close my eyes and go soft in his arms. Michael growls deep in his throat, kissing violently until he reaches my mouth.

He kisses deep and hard, pausing only when the sparks ignite. Then he bites my bottom lip, almost drawing blood, and I cry out inside his mouth. His arms tighten around me and he doesn’t stop kissing. Demanding and devouring, I try to relax and enjoy it but Michael has become aggressive, as though enraged by something. I want to push away but end up clutching his jacket and matching his need.

His tongue caresses mine, and the sparks snap and sting, and I flinch. They are seriously starting to hurt.

Then comes the familiar sensation throughout my body; all my blood is rushing back to my heart. My arms and legs tingle from the sudden loss of blood. It’s almost time to stop … but … Michael isn’t slowing down.

He’ll stop any moment. Like he always does. He knows when to stop now
.

Michael moans and deepens the kiss. The pulling is stronger and my heart is raging out of control. It slams against my chest. Michael’s energy, his desire, is sucking the air from my lungs.

Stop, Michael! Why aren’t you stopping?

I struggle against him but he won’t release me. Without breaking our kiss, he presses me down onto the frozen waterfall. His warm hand slides inside my shirt and across my chest. He squeezes and groans, and my eyes fly open. My vision is white around the edges. The buzzing in my head says we’re too late. I’m going to faint, again.

With a hard burst of energy, I push Michael away. His eyes pop open, startled. Again, one of them seems darker than the other but I can’t think about it now. My head is swimming and my vision is blurring.

Michael is panting, his face stricken with worry. He clutches my shoulders, sitting me up. “Stay with me, Sophia! Stay with me!”

My head flops back and darkness shrouds my vision.

* * *

Tiny drops of water sprinkle my face, making me twitch. I blink and come around. Michael is patting my cheek. He murmurs my name, and I open my eyes. I have the mother of all headaches.

I’m not sure which emotion to act on first. I’m confused and pissed as hell. I gingerly sit up.

We’re back in the sleigh, still parked at the waterfall. I’m wrapped in the plaid blanket.

“How long?” I ask, meaning how long was I out this time. I look at him when he doesn’t answer. I’m ready to unleash my anger but his eyes are shimmering prisms. He has received a call.

Damnit, not now!

I reach for him but he jumps from the sleigh.

“Michael, wait!” I yell and then grimace. My head is going to explode!

“David will take you home,” Michael says, his voice choking. He’s torn, distraught. He glances toward the trees. “I—” He turns and sprints and then disappears in a flash of blue light.

The school bus laid in a ditch, hissing like a dying beast. Young bodies were sprawled across the frozen road illuminated by flashing red and blue lights from the highway patrol, two fire engines, and three ambulances. Paramedics and EMTs rushed in every direction, overwhelmed with the magnitude of wounded. Raph and Gabe stood aside in spirit form, methodically assessing the damage.

Raph moved among the children who just hours ago sang Christmas carols at the Danbury Fair Mall. He sensed their needs, honing in on one. Head injury, concussion, the brain already swelling. He placed a hand to the boy’s forehead, meditated, and drew out the injury like a thin silvery ribbon.

Gabe knelt beside a little girl groaning in pain. An EMT crooned to her while brushing his hands along her body, checking for injuries.

The rib cage
. Gabe pushed his thoughts into the man’s head.
Get her on the backboard. Gently. Her rib is broken and will puncture the liver if you’re not careful
.

The EMT quoted his concerns to his partner, and together they followed Gabe’s silent dictation.

Raph sprang to his feet and spun around. Two paramedics were bent over the bus driver. The first medic said, “Work him up,” and the second quickly cut away the driver’s sweater and attached twelve electrode pads to his chest, connecting him to a heart monitor. It registered faint, erratic heartbeats—signs of a heart attack. The first medic started an IV in the man’s limp arm while his partner prepared to insert a tube down the driver’s throat. Then the monitor’s alarm went off. “We’re losing him!” the second medic snapped as he began CPR.

While the medic pumped the man’s chest, Raph flashed closer and looked down at the driver:
Sixty-five-year-old male. Heart attack. Lost control of the bus. Slid on the ice. Hit the culvert, rolled, and plunged into the ditch
.

A burst of blue light flashed down the road, and then Michael emerged from the epicenter, marching in hard, powerful strides. He was furious and worried, his energy radiating off his skin. His translucent eyes raced over the scene, and he knew instantly: twenty-four children—fifteen female, nine male. All under twelve. Two adult females.
No life-threatening injuries remained.

“Where have you been?” Raph demanded, walking over. His prism eyes blazed with rage.

Michael brushed past him without answering. “You have her?” he asked Gabe, who was crouched by the girl.

Raph was on his heels, yelling and pointing to the dead driver. “We lost one! It wasn’t his time yet!”

Michael stepped back as though he’d been sucker punched. Then he whipped around and headed for the bus driver. He hadn’t sensed the victim because the heart had already stopped beating.