Few Are Angels (20 page)

Chapter 19

“I told you that you would regret disobeying me. No one has ever survived it, child. Do you think yourself any different than those you rotted in prison with?” —The Dark Prince

We were on the second of three floors. The place was small and cozy, so it’d be difficult not to run into him if he were in the hallway or lobby area. Outside my door, the hallway was empty and quiet. I could hear the TV in the room across the hall, and I used that as cover. I closed the door as quietly as possible and inched toward the stairs. The hallway was filled with dinner scents from the small kitchen, and my stomach argued in protest as I abandoned the wild mushrooms and chicken sautéed in a garlic sauce that would have soon filled it. On the stairs, I passed an older couple who were far too busy kissing to notice my presence and peeked into the lobby. They partially blocked me from view, but if anyone were to come in through the front doors, they’d see me hiding behind Mr. and Mrs. Kissy face, so I had to be quick. I didn't see Alex or anyone else I’d arrived with, but it was dinner time, and I knew they would be downstairs either in front of the fire or in the small dining area near the kitchen. The setup of the Lodge made it possible to sneak out without being seen. I’d been standing in the same spot for a few minutes when the blond-haired man who couldn't seem to kiss his redheaded partner enough looked at me through wrinkled brows. I took that as my cue to leave, and I dashed down the remaining stairs and flew out the door. I probably looked like a psycho to the couple, but I didn't care. If they were going to be so rude as to suck face in public, then I wasn’t going be polite and sweet around them either. My annoyance subsided as the yellow and white cab pulled up to the curb. Once inside, the driver smiled into the rearview mirror and took off into the night. Only then did I worry about my decision to meet Kale.

I had left the lodge telling no one where I was going, or who I was going to meet. Though I’d been to the lodge before, I’d never left at night by myself. I had no idea where Stony Brook Drive was, or where the little cabin Kale had described was. I hoped I wasn’t making a mistake.

The driver was quiet and so was I. I had nothing to talk about. He must not have either, because all the times I had called a cab in Virginia Beach, the cabbies were more than talkative. The drive lasted ten minutes. The driver finally spoke, his voice gruff from smoking or age, I couldn't tell.

“You want to be dropped off by the front door or at the mailbox, miss?”

I looked out of the window and could see we’d come to a long driveway with a mailbox that read
5435 Decanis
. I wondered if this was Kale’s home and if his last name was Decanis, but I was pulled from the thought by the driver.

“Hellooo, mailbox or front door?”

“Front door.” I wasn’t sure why someone would want to be dropped off at the end of such a long driveway and have to walk all the way to the front door in the cold. I noticed the gate as we pulled into the driveway. There was a call box and a keypad on a pole facing away from the mailbox. The driver must have thought I knew the code since I’d asked him to drop me off at the door. I took out the letter Kale had left me and reread it, but there was no code on it.

“Can you reach it?” the driver asked.

He’d pulled up close enough to the gate so I could reach out and type in the code. I didn't know the code, and I didn't want to have to climb over the gate and walk in the snow all the way up the driveway, but it seemed that was my only option.

“I don’t know the code,” I informed the cabbie. I looked around for another way in, but all I could see was the locked gate. The cab was warm and safe and the thought that I would have had to get out and trek up the long driveway was upsetting.

“Then I can drop you off here.” He sounded a bit annoyed at my lack of knowledge. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about leaving me in the cold and dark.

I paid the driver and reluctantly got out. The cab backed down the driveway just as my cell phone buzzed with a text message. I didn't want to check it because I thought it was Alex asking me where I was, but instead of letting him worry, I decided to answer the text. I looked at my phone and didn't recognize the number. The text just consisted of numbers. I shivered against the cold as I realized it was the code to the gate, but I wondered who’d sent it to me. Of course, it had to be Kale, but I’d never given him my number. That was beside the point because he knew I was at the lodge, and I hadn’t told him that I was going there, either. I looked ahead at the cottage that I was to meet him in; it was moderately sized and looked very expensive, which once again made me question Kale’s living situation. He was my age and I couldn't believe he owned this home, so it had to be a friend or family member’s. But if he knew someone who owned this home, why was he sleeping in a mausoleum? The snow-blanketed lawn looked neatly manicured and the bushes and trees that weren’t were beautifully trimmed. The rest of the driveway beyond the gate had been recently shoveled free of snow. It was a small hike all the way up there, but luckily it wouldn’t be through knee-high snow.

I typed the six-digit code in the keypad and waited for it to open. After I heard a soft click, I pushed the gate open and entered the grounds. The gate closed. I was anxious to get inside where I was sure it was warm, but nervous at what answers awaited me. I walked toward the doors and realized I wasn’t afraid of who I was meeting, but of what he would show me. I passed a frozen cherub statue and said a little prayer, hoping whatever Kale did tonight wouldn’t freak me out too badly. It was eerily quiet. My boots made no sound against the cobblestone driveway. There was no traffic noise behind me, and I couldn't see or hear anything from the cottage. I stopped and scrutinized the darkened windows; it seemed as if no one was home. Maybe I had the wrong address. I almost looked at the note again when I remembered the code had worked on the gate, so this had the right home. But why was it so dark inside? I took a step back, letting my fear guide me. My heart sped up, and my breath came fast and in short puffs. When my cell buzzed again, I prayed it was Alex, so I could tell him where I was and that I was alone and on the verge of freaking out. When I looked at the phone, it was the same number that had sent me the first text message. I was too nervous to read it at first. I feared it would say something like “now I got you” or “welcome to the jungle.” I laughed at myself for being such an idiot. I’d come this far, and I wanted the answers that I’d been running away from for the last two weeks. I looked at the message and followed its instructions.

“Come in. It’s cold out there.”

The door was unlocked when I reached it. Inside the house was warm, and I could see a fire burning in the room in front of me, so I headed in that direction. Kale sat in the windowsill facing me when I entered the living room. His face was set alight by the fire, and his cool, dark eyes found mine and he stole my breath. He looked the same as the last time I’d seen him: pale, handsome, and mysterious. He wore all black, adding to the mysterious look he pulled off so well. His pale skin shimmered in the light of the fireplace, sending chills of anticipation down my spine. Anticipation for what, I didn't know, but I could feel it in my bones that I was where I belonged—close to him. He looked nervous, and I wondered why. I mean, he knew everything, and I knew nothing. Maybe he was nervous about my reaction to the truth, or maybe he was nervous about being around me after I’d rejected him. His back rested against the cold glass of the window. Arms crossed against his chest, he eyed me warily. Though he wasn’t fidgety, I could see he wasn’t fully at ease as he had been all of the other times we’d met. I felt uncomfortable under his stare, and I caught myself fidgeting.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to come,” Kale said in a low, husky voice.

I couldn't find my voice to speak, so I stood there. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, and my mouth wouldn’t cooperate with me anyway.

He moved away from the window to the fire. “Is it warm enough?” He poked the fire, causing it to flare.

The room was getting warmer, and I was sure it wasn’t the fire, but I nodded. I removed my coat and hat and placed them on the back of the sofa. Kale still had his back to me, and I realized he was stalling. The fire was well on its way to warming the entire room, and he was still staring at it. I figured I should say something to get him started.

“So… what are we doing here?” I asked as I glanced around.

The room was painted a dark, smoky gray with white exposed brick. It didn't seem like Kale’s taste, so I assumed the cottage belonged to someone else. There was a view of a small frozen lake in the backyard and a small garden surrounded by a white stone fence that looked beautiful buried in snow and ice. The view of the kitchen was also amazing. I could see it through the rectangle-shaped bar that showed all stainless steel appliances and a beautiful macadamia-brown backsplash.

“Whose home is this?” I asked, amazed at how beautiful it was inside, though I should have expected it from the way the owner kept the grounds. I moved further into the room and rubbed my hand across a plush cream couch, feeling the cool, soft fabric before I perched myself on it, hoping to get comfortable in our awkward situation.

“It’s okay that we’re here, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He finally faced me. He walked over to the couch facing the one I sat on.

He looked different. Normally, he was this overly confident guy that seemed to let nothing mark him, but tonight he seemed nervous and unsure, which made me a bit nervous.

“What do you mean okay for us to be here?” I didn't know what he had planned, but whatever it was, I didn't want the owners to come home and be surprised by their home’s occupants and their actions.

His smile disappeared, and the emotionless face I had grown used to returned. Once, his face void of emotion made me angry, but now it upset me because it meant he’d withdrawn again.

“Are you afraid I broke in here?”

I didn't mean to imply he’d broken in, but he couldn't own this place, could he? I raised my chin boldly. “Well, no, but now that you bring it up, why are we allowed here tonight, but you sleep in a mausoleum in the woods?” I asked. A sudden wave of lucidity swept over me as I remembered the girls that had been killed in the woods. I struggled to catch my breath, embarrassed at my sudden inability to breathe and how Kale looked at me as if I was crazy.

He stood up and walked over to pat my back, but I put my hand up to stop him, ignoring the hurt and confusion that flashed across his face. Why hadn’t I remembered the girls? When I got his letter, all I could think about was that he could have the answers to the visions and voices I’d been experiencing. I looked at him, my face full of confusion and fear. I stood so fast that I had to catch myself on the side of the couch.

“What happened to Anna?” I rasped as soon as my throat loosened, allowing air to escape.

He looked at me, sending fear through me. I wanted to trust him, but it was difficult. My head wouldn’t stop trying to convince me something was off here. Kale moved closer, slowly, as if to show me he meant no harm. My heart raced, and the room heated up even more. I wondered if I would faint and embarrass myself once again, but luckily I didn't.

“I didn't have anything to do with Anna’s death or the other girl who died.” His voice was warm and comforting, even though his words weren’t. “The men who murdered them thought they were someone else, and once they realized they had the wrong girl, they killed them.” He moved past me to the fire place and closed the vent to suffocate the fire, and I felt immediate relief from the heat.

“What do you mean? How do you know who the killer is after?” I asked, confused by his insight to the situation.

He stood there quietly for so long I worried he wasn’t going to answer my question, or the answer was something I didn't want to hear. I was tempted to ask him again, but before I could, he abruptly left the room and headed into the kitchen. When he returned, he handed me a glass of water and sat down.

“You’re going to need this.”

My throat was still a little scratchy, and I was grateful for the water. I took a sip and placed it on one of the coasters on the white marble table in front of us and sat back down.

“What do you—” I was interrupted by my cell phone vibrating and ringing in my pocket. I was tempted to ignore it until I remembered I’d left the lodge without telling anyone where I was going. I’d left a note, but I wasn’t sure if anyone had found it. When I looked at the screen, I saw Alex’s number flashing across and I was tempted again not to answer it.

“Who is it?” Kale asked, frowning. “Is it that boy?”

I frowned and looked up at Kale. “Boy?” His patronizing tone annoyed me. “He’s nineteen.” I was even more annoyed for allowing him to bait me. I sat back on the sofa, crossing my arms over my chest. My response may have been childish, but his comment really made me angry.

Kale moved closer to the edge of the couch, his eyes now soft and apologetic. The phone stopped ringing, and I stuffed it back into my pocket hoping that Alex wasn’t worried about me and that he’d found the note I had left for him.

“Sorry. Do you want to call him back?”

I could tell that Kale was trying to be indifferent, but I could see that he was still unhappy about Alex and the phone call. “No. I want you to tell me why I am here, then I want you to tell me how you know about Alex. And I want to know what you know about Anna and Janice’s murderers.” The room had cooled down considerably and I wrapped my arms around myself for warmth. I waited as Kale gathered himself to explain what was going on. I felt lightheaded with worry. Once the truth was out, it would be something I couldn't tuck away and forget.

“When I was younger, my grandfather told me the story I told you about the Eternal Ones.”

I remembered the story about the nomads who knew the secret to eternal life and the men who went in search of them. I sat back on the couch, hoping the warmth from the still burning embers would reach me because a chill started to creep back into my skin. Kale sensed my unease and he moved to the couch I was sitting on and took my hand. His cool skin soothed me with a familiar sensation. His hand was strong and smooth, and he gripped me tightly, demanding my attention.