Second Sight (8 page)

More questions, but only one answer, and I
know it. Betcha more than six months ago, Scott Mathis didn’t even
exist. Amazing how angels easily lend themselves to lies when
they’re supposed to be harbingers of truth.

I walk over to the
bookshelf, noticing how the floor creaks. A lot of the hardbacks
look old, and they have that musty smell I love. I pick one up and
open it. As the pages part, I realize its title: Dante’s
Inferno
. My trembling
fingers drop it and I scrabble to pick it up, half-eyeing the door
to see if the guys are coming out yet. No such luck. I run my
fingers across the leather cover one more time before stowing it
back on the shelf and scanning the other spines for titles I know.
It appears that Scott has refined tastes; he has more classics than
a literature professor. Next to the books, there is a sword-like
letter opener jabbed into a small crystal prism. Intrigued, I take
it out and palm it, unsure why. I’m no thief—never even shoplifted
bubble gum from a store. It’s just not in me. But here, now, I’m
not even sure who ‘me’ is. I should, but I don’t. I contemplate
putting the thing back, but at that moment, the door eases open and
Griffin walks out first. I try to read his expression, but it is
inscrutable. His jaw is clenched, and he glances at me, pain
in his eyes. He shuffles to the couch. Scott
follows, and I look from one to the other, gaining nothing. More
lies, then. Now even Griffin is in on it.

“
So,” I begin, “did you two
have a nice little heart-to-heart?” Neither answers. In fact,
neither of them look at me either, which only goes to show they’d
both rather talk
about
me than
to
me. “Do I get to know what that little exchange was
about?”

“
No!” both of them snap
simultaneously. Now I have their attention, but Griffin is nervous
and Scott is just damned evasive.

Lies.

Scott eyes Griffin cooly, and they both
settle back as though trying to get comfortable, something that
ordinarily Griffin wouldn’t have a bit of trouble with. But I think
Scott has brought out the worst in him. What the hell?

“
I believe you had some
questions you wanted me to answer, Lizzie. Is that right?” My name
sounds all wrong when he says it, kind of like it’s been spoken in
a foreign language he doesn’t recognize and hasn’t heard pronounced
before. He rests his forearms on his thighs and leans forward,
hands clasped, as he studies my face.

His blue eyes disorient me,
and I feel I can barely breathe. He reminds me of Lev, but then he
doesn’t, and it makes my heart want to pound out of my
chest
. Focus, Lizzie. Focus,
I think. I search for the aura. It’s there; I can
see it as plain as day. Okay, maybe it is faint, but that doesn’t
mean it doesn’t exist.

“
I…I know what you are.”
Okay, so putting it like that sounds crazy, but is there a good way
to say it? I don’t think so.

“
That’s not…a question,”
Scott says, pulling his hands apart and resting them on the couch.
“And I’m not quite sure what you mean by that.”

Griffin closes his eyes,
probably focusing on just breathing, but his expression seems more
tortured than it should. What does he know that I don’t? What did
Scott
tell
him?

“
I think you know exactly
what I mean.” I stand and walk to the hearth. “You’re not
human.”

“
What are you talking
about?” Scott jumps up from the couch and tries to touch the back
of my head. “Did you hit your head again?”

I slap his hand away and glare. “Don’t. I
know what you are. Lying isn’t going to change what I know. I see
the aura. Lev had it, too. You’re an angel. It doesn’t matter if
you want me to know; I do. So just admit it, all right? At least do
that for me. I’m tired of all the lies and the secrecy, and I’m
tired of being treated like a child—some stupid little kid who
needs protecting from everything. I’m not that fragile. Trust
me.”

Pale-faced, he drops his hands and takes a
step back. “I don’t know—“

“
Yes, you do!” I stride
toward him and snake my hand through the air where the aura is.
Although I can’t touch the wings, I know they’re there.

Scott and Griffin exchange glances, and Scott
suddenly looks like a bachelor trying to care for a newborn
baby—totally inept and way out of his league.

“
I know what you are. You
might even be a sojourner.” I step back and glare at him. “I could
always test that theory.” I swallow hard and wait. “But maybe
you’re not
my
sojourner. That was Lev. Probably still is. But I wonder if
I’ve got his attention yet?”

“
What the hell is a
sojourner?” Griffin demands also rising.

“
What is going on, Lizzie.”
Scott suddenly seems nervous as he stares at me, each breath just a
little faster than the one before. His fingers twitch, and he rolls
them into and out of a fist just to keep them busy.

“
What’s a sojourner?”
Griffin demands again, louder, standing next to Scott, unsure what
to do.

“
An angel who escorts souls
from this world to the next,” I reply, pulling out the letter
opener. I make a big show of touching the point. “Nice
edge.”

“
Give me that.” Scott steps
toward me, but I dance away. Griffin can’t seem to move at all; his
mouth is twisted into a horrified grimace.

“
No. Not unless you tell me
the truth. You are an angel, aren’t you?”

He reaches for the letter opener, but I shift
the point so that it jabs my wrist. That completely stops him. I’m
not really planning on doing anything, but that doesn’t mean I
won’t try to get the truth. Besides, I don’t think he’s got it in
him to call my bluff. He has no idea how much I hate pain.

“
Lizzie, put it down.”
Scott’s voice is soft, almost painful.

“
Tell me. Just give me some
answers, and I’ll think about it.”

“
Lizzie,” Griffin warns,
almost hyperventilating. Now he should know better. “Please do what
he says.” He shakes his head and steps toward me, forcing me to
apply a little pressure. The damned thing is sharper than I
thought. I prod through the skin, and a small bubble of blood
appears. Immediately both of them back up, their eyes never
wavering from my wrist.

“
You’re right,” Scott
finally says. “I am an angel. Now will you give me the
opener?”

“
In time.” My breathing is
ragged, and I should be elated, but I’m afraid. “Are you
Lev?”

He flinches. “What do you think? Do I look
like Lev?”

“
Where is he?” Only my
voice betrays the building fear.

“
He’s not on earth anymore.
He had no choice.” His voice is calm, detached, even.

I shake my head, and tears burn down my face.
The words stun me so much I stagger backwards. “I don’t believe
you. He’s here. I just have to find him.” My hand wavers, and in
that split second, Scott rushes me, the aura clear and bright.
There is no time to escape from the hands that pull the opener free
and the arms that wrap around me. The opener clatters to the
floor.

I start screaming, struggling against the
confines of his arms and the wall of his chest, but his strength is
unbreakable. Griffin grabs the letter opener, sinks down onto the
couch, and thrusts his free hand into his hair. He starts rocking
back and forth, his eyes wide in shock. He won’t look at me, and I
know he’s afraid. He should be.

“
Calm down, Lizzie. You
just need some help to get through this,” Scott says.

“
Get away from me!” I yell,
trying to bash my head against his. I hate his hands—hate the way
they’ve forced me into stillness. I keep struggling, which forces
him to take me down, thrashing as he pins me. The anger explodes
with tears, but no matter what I do, I cannot get loose. Angels. If
this is what they are, who needs them? Maybe God, but not me. Never
again.

“
It’s going to be okay. You
just need some help—someone to guide you through this.” His
expression is neutral, but the pity lingers in his eyes as I keep
trying to break free. At last, even the tears finally stop, and I
just lie there, my eyes closed—so damned tired.

Scott slowly lifts his body from mine.
“Lizzie?” His voice is soft. He tries to touch my shoulder, but I
push his hand away.

“
Leave me
alone.”

I hear him get up, and I think he’s walking
over to the couch because I hear him talking to Griffin.

“
I have a friend who runs a
youth center here in town. She and her husband both counsel
troubled kids. I think Lizzie needs that right now. She’s not
processing what’s happened. She’s not letting it go. I’ll call
Jimmie and tell him about what’s happened and try to get an okay
for her to come into town a few times a week to see them. Could you
drive her? I don’t think any of us trust her to come
alone.”

“
Yeah, I can do
that.”

“
Great. Here’s a business
card. My number is on the back.”

Here it comes—the nuthouse. Jimmie’s
nuthouse. Looks like he’ll get what he wants, like always. And all
these lies—how many more? It’s said the truth will set you free,
but I’m not buying it, because everything I’ve thought has been a
lie. All of it. Lev should’ve just let me drown.

“
Lizzie?” Scott’s back to
hovering over me, and I can’t face him. I never want to see him
again. I don’t care if he is an angel, which he probably isn’t.
He’s not Lev, and even if he were, it wouldn’t matter now. So I
pretend to sleep.

I hear Griffin stand and come toward me.
“Jimmie said she hadn’t been sleeping well.”

“
Okay. I’ll get her if you
get the car door open.”

I feel the arms scoop me up, and it takes
everything I have inside to play possum and not stiffen up. Part of
me wonders if maybe Scott is right. Maybe I am just some messed-up
kid. Maybe Lev was just a bad dream. In any case, who cares?

Scott carries me out to the car and sets me
in the passenger seat before snapping the belt across my lap. One
hand brushes the hair from my face and he whispers, “I know you’re
not asleep, Elizabeth. Just hurting. And you’re mad. But I do care
about you, and I want you to be okay. If it takes you never
speaking to me again, then I can live with that.” Then he backs
away, leaving me alone in the car with Griffin, and while Scott
seemed to know I was still conscious, Griffin isn’t so attuned to
my mental state. He drives away, believing that I’m in dreamland.
Fine by me. I don’t know what I’d say to him now anyway. Not that
I’d say anything at all. This is what comes with trust, and I can
totally live without it.

Before we get out of town, Griffin pulls into
a gas station and goes inside to pay. I open my eyes to see where
we are and come face-to-face with Jimmie’s truck at the next pump.
What the hell is he doing in Knoxville? I thought he was working.
At that moment, I’m grateful for the tinted windows; maybe he won’t
see me. I scan the area, but Jimmie isn’t outside. In fact, I see
him coming from the convenience store, and he’s not alone. That
nurse, Teresa or whatever her name is, is latched onto his arm. The
two are laughing and talking, completely oblivious to the world
around them, and I sit up, watching them get into Jimmie’s truck
and drive away.

The sudden emptiness hits me, and I see
Griffin coming out of the store, a bottle of soda in hand. Almost
instinctively, I close my eyes and pray for release. If I sleep and
there are dreams, maybe this time they’ll keep me.

Chapter Six

“
Lizzie? Time to wake
up.”

I blink and realize we’ve pulled into the
driveway, and even as I move, my neck aches. I massage the muscles,
trying to ease the tension, but it doesn’t help. I turn to find
Griffin has already opened my door and stands beside me, sporting
his usual frown. One hand rests on the hood of his car, the other
on the door.

“
What time is it?” I ask,
trying to blink away the fog coating my brain. It doesn’t want to
go.

Griffin peers down at his gold watch. “4:30.
Jimmie will be home soon.”

I doubt that, I think, unlatching my
seatbelt—not if What’s-Her-Face has anything to say about it. And
how could Griffin have missed them at the store? Never mind.

As I scrabble out, Griffin steps back, but
his hovering instinct is still alive and kicking. Right now, it’s
taking everything I have to get out of the car, grab my keys, and
head up the walk. I can’t meet Griffin’s gaze, not as the memory of
Scott forcing me to the floor resurfaces.

“
You okay?” Griffin closes
the car door and follows me up the walk.

“
Right as rain,” I mutter,
shoving the key into the lock and twisting. I wish he would stop
following me.

“
Yeah, about that. You’re
acting…strange.” He’s so close it feels like he’s breathing down my
neck, which feels like it must be the most popular
hangout.

I freeze, wanting to turn and smack him. Once
inside, I set my purse and keys on the table. I swallow hard, but
as much pain as I take in, there’s always more headed my way.
Somebody must think I’m starving for it.

“
Lizzie?” Griffin tries to
touch my shoulder, but I flinch. His fingers recoil, and he slowly
drops his hand. “I’m sorry.”