Parallel: The Secret Life of Jordan McKay (32 page)

I struggled to understand what had just happened as everyone looked toward the professor, confused. Why had we both reacted so strongly toward each other?

“
Our lesson today,” he continued, “will be in the preservation and health of this creature.”

He began to make his way down the aisle and my heart rate quickened. As he grew closer, I noticed his gate was far too smooth and sophisticated for his age, but there was something there that suggested otherwise. His nose was in the air as though from another time completely and the way he carried himself exuded ages of perfection.

“
He has a broken wing,” he continued, now glaring at me with shameless authority, his dark eyes still hiding the exact point of his gaze.

As he approached our table, I felt my breathing become very shallow and the aggression in his eyes blazed as my already fair skin turned even whiter.

“
And your name is?” He finally halted in front of me.

My palms spread across the table as I tried to remain calm, holding my breath in utter shock. His eyes beckoned for me to look into them, and even behind the tinted lenses, they seemed to glow.

I stuttered nervously, “El…” my voice was hoarse and low, “Estella.”

I saw his eyes react to my name as I said it, flashing what had appeared to be a bright blue. He stood there quite still for a moment and I noticed the students around me staring with looks of grave pity and vindictive interest, all relieved to not be where I sat.

“
Estella,” he repeated. A smile curled across his face and his voice was like honey as he breathed my name.

A strange part of me still felt a pull toward him, his almost floral scent wafting toward me and tickling my nose. Despite the fact that he was the creepiest person I had ever encountered, there was a dull sense of intrigue and admiration.

“
Can you help heal this Hawk?” His eyes blazed a calmer grey as he looked at me, head tilted in contemplation.

I looked at him horrified, if I even so much as touched the bird people would notice there was something strange about me. I knew that my abilities to heal were not normal and far too obvious in a situation like this. The hawk stirred on his arm, its piercing gaze looking at me in a way that seemed like prey.

“
I – uh,” I tried to reach out and gather my thoughts through the thick clouds of my mind, “Wh – what should I do?” Fear filled my eyes but no tears would ever come. I felt the hairs on my back raise as the tension in the room shrouded me in terror.

The hawk tilted his sorrowful head at me as though comprehending the words I was saying, mimicking his handler as his talons twitched on the sleeve of the professor’s dark shirt. Without warning, the bird turned its blazing gaze from me to the professor as he too looked toward the bird, as though having a brief conversation over the matter.

I blinked once and they both shot their stare back toward me, my chest once again beginning to sting. I felt myself leaning back on my stool in an attempt to resist his pull, to get as far away from him as possible. The hawk jumped from his arm to the table and the whole class gasped in suspense. I took a few calm breaths, knowing the bird wouldn’t hurt me but my heart was still pounding hard in my chest and I couldn’t help but take a moment to absorb the feeling, a feeling rare to me.

The hawk hopped toward me, its poise never faltering despite its broken wing and assured pain. I felt the bird’s discomfort sting my chest and I winced. As he approached, I could almost hear his thoughts, filling my dark soul with a thin haze.

“
Grab its wing,” the professor boomed as he looked down on me, his startling strength and towering height astonishing me inside my fogged comprehension. “Feel the bone so you can share with the class,” he hissed, a crooked smile crossing his smooth young face.

I looked away from him as a wince grew in my throat, my gaze now locked on the warm amber eyes of the hawk. Little by little, I released my grip on the table and raised my trembling hand toward the injured wing. The hawk watched me with confidence, never shying away from my advancing touch. His amber eyes glittered like coins as he looked into my thoughts, finding calm there.

With extreme caution, I lowered my hand onto its powerful wing, stroking my touch over the ridge of his elbow and down the length of his feathers. The bird opened his beak, breathing deep as it relaxed its wing into a full span. The students toward the front of the room stood from their chairs, anxious to get a better view. In slow movements, I again grabbed the bird’s wing, bringing my other hand up to cradle its chest as I felt the bone, finally finding the protrusion halfway down its bicep. Closing my eyes in regret, I felt the bone molding beneath my touch as it healed with shocking speed. My stomach churned as I felt it, my nerves crushing my confidence like a rock. I had never been confronted like this before and I was certain that this absurd incident would grant me my one way ticket back home.

I looked to the professor with sheepish eyes, begging him not to notice. He nodded in approval, his hungry stare locked on my hand as I continued to massage the hawk’s wing, now nearly healed. I jumped as the satisfied hawk clicked its tongue, ruffling the feathers on his back as he jumped away from me and repositioned his wing against his smooth brown body as though no harm had ever been inflicted.

I looked at the professor as he continued to stare at me with a solemn mask. He stood there for a brief moment as the hawk returned to its perch on his arm, and its feathers puffed in happiness; both eyes glinting with playful light.

Just as fierce and fast as he had come, the professor spun on his heel and marched back up the aisle. “That will be all today,” he boomed with a threatening pitch to his voice as he exited with haste through the same door he had entered, not another word or explanation said.

My breathing returned as I felt my lungs re-inflate and the fog in my mind cleared. It was all a blur, the way he’d looked at me, the way the hawk had known something about me.

Scott put one hand on my back to support me, “Are you alright?”

His words disappeared like a dissipating cloud as my head felt faint, and my eyes rolled back into my head; the room fading to dark.

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The Feather Book Series

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