THE EVERLAST SERIES: Books 1-4

Chapter 15

15

Apart from the gray skies, the scene was breathtaking. Standing at the edge of a precipice, I had a clear view of the town below, among many hills and mountains. The many European style houses, few parks and squares, and almost no tall buildings created an inviting mosaic. At the center of the town, a large angel fountain marked where eight roads met.

Water splashed behind me, and as I turned around, I saw several gorgeous women dancing and singing along the shore of a blue lake. Some played harps and others blew in flutes. The women, clad in skimpy white dresses, had long hair adorned by flowers with pale, shiny skin, cherry-red lip, and their eyes shone like torches. They were beautiful in a ghostly way.

The lake before me was blue and clean. The scent of fresh water and wild flowers was intense, and I welcomed it.

I approached them, certain I was in an observation-only vision. That was when I saw a thick black cloud coming toward them from the opposite direction. With it came the flapping of many huge wings. My blood froze in my veins. Oh no.

From among the cloud, Omi, dressed in his usual crumpled white suit, came forward, holding his stave. Instantly the women dropped everything they were doing and stood together, facing the imposing god. I stayed close to them.

“Oh mighty Omi, to what do we owe your visit?” one of the women asked, bowing.

“Where is she?” His skittish gaze scanned the surroundings. “I can feel her aura lingering here. Where is she now? Answer me, nymphs!”

“Who are you talking about, my Lord?” another one asked, also bowing.

“Do not elude me,” Omi snarled. “You know exactly who I am talking about, and you are going to tell me what she was doing here and where she is now!” He raised his hand and the black cloud behind him advanced a little, the sound of ruffling wings increasing. The women gasped, taking a few steps back. “Where is the goddess of love and family and beauty?”

“We don’t know, my Lord,” a blue-haired nymph answered.

He pointed his stave at them. “I can sense her aura!”

Another nymph curtsied and said, “Yes, my Lord, she stopped by here, but we don’t know what she was doing or where she went.”

“Lies,” Omi yelled. With a wicked grin splitting his face, he raised his stave. “One more chance to tell me her location.”

“But, my Lord, we don’t know!” One of the nymphs fell on her knees. “Please, believe us.”

Another one stepped forward. “It’s true, my Lord. The goddess came here, but she didn’t speak to us. We know nothing about her.”

Omi grunted. “Is that your final answer?”

“Yes, mighty god,” the blue-haired one answered.

With an enraged cry, he swept his arm down. At the cue, the black cloud parted, revealing the foul creatures within, the same ones I had seen at the crystal palace during a previous vision.

The winged monsters dove down at the town, their strident shrieks and stench made my skin crawl. But Omi wasn’t done. From the orb of his scepter, he cast a red bolt and threw it at the nymphs, who waited for their deaths, standing like statues and holding hands. The bolt hit them and set them on fire. Gasping, I retreated a couple of steps. I wanted to help them, to save them from his fury, but I was only a ghost here.

In seconds the fire consumed them, and they turned into black shadows that dissipated into the gray skies.

In my shock, I almost didn’t see Omi sauntering to the edge of the precipice. With trepidation, I walked to the edge too, making sure I kept a good distance from him.

I peered down at the scene below. The cloud and the monsters were destroying the city. Men, women, and children screamed and shouted. My heart hammered a punishing beat, and I had a hard time breathing. When I thought it couldn’t get any worse, he cast new red bolts and hurled them into the city. The town exploded into flames. My legs gave out, and I fell to the ground. Red mixed with black until black took over.

“Nadine?” Raisa stood before me. “Talk to me,” she yelled, jerking my shoulders.

I glanced around. I was in my room. My tote was over my shoulder, and I wore regular day clothes. All right, I was safe in my world. This was the first vision I’d had in a while, and not one that I’d ever care to have again. A chill crept up my spine. I didn’t want to think about what I’d seen with the nymphs and that town. Goose bumps ran up my arms. God, Omi was a beast. I was glad he only lived in my dreams.

But having a vision reminded me of Victor. I hadn’t seen him in my visions in ages, and hadn’t heard from the real-world Victor for more than ten days now. But who was counting?

“What?” I asked.

“You were screaming, for Pete’s sake!” Her eyes glowed with concern. “You’re scaring me, Nadine. I think these episodes, or whatever you have, are going too far.”

“I’m fine,” I said, walking past her. After not hearing from Cheryl, I didn’t feel confident seeking out the specialist she’d recommended. I didn’t think I could handle finding out if I was permanently insane by myself. I needed Cheryl, but she apparently didn’t need me.

A glance at my wristwatch informed me I would be late for my shift if I didn’t start moving. Thankfully, this was the last day I would be working at the café, and I was finally done with summer semester.

I turned to leave, but Raisa stepped in my way. “You’re not fine. You were yelling and panting.”

“Raisa, let me go. I’ll be late.”

“Damn your job. You’re quitting in a day anyway.”

“Yes, but I have a contract to fulfill, and it says I have to work until the end of the day. So if you’ll excuse me, I really need to go.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine. But be prepared. We’re going to talk about this later.”

I rolled my eyes. “As you wish.”

Unnecessarily, I slammed the door when I left our apartment.

To try to alleviate the anxiety and the rage I was feeling, I jogged to the café, glad I preferred wearing ballet flats instead of high heels like Raisa. When the cawing over me began, I increased my pace. I tried to ignore it but I glanced up. The scarred raven circled the sky right above me.

Inside the campus, I ran past a temporary stand selling flowers. There was a phone number painted in red at the side of the stand. The three number eights that composed the telephone number shone and pulsed, as if calling to me.

When I entered the café, I was panting and flushed. Adam shot me a glare from across the counter. I did my best to ignore him, and after leaving my things in the back and grabbing my apron, I went to work.

All the coffee I drank during my shift didn’t help with my anxiety and my shaking. I had to keep my hands and mouth and mind occupied at all times or I would have a meltdown—scream, pull out my hair, and who knew what else.

Near the end of my shift, when I was finally starting to calm down, Victor entered the café.

He glanced at me, his intense stare pulling out my soul. I forgot how to breathe. Averting his gaze, he picked a table at a corner next to the large glass window that looked over the park outside.

Oh, I knew exactly what would please him. I walked up to him, tucking my order tab in my apron pocket. “A tall mochaccino and double fudge doughnut?”

His eyes went wide. He smiled. “That will do.”

I whirled around, pressing a hand to my chest. After picking up his order, I went back to serve him. Luckily for me, the café was quiet, and when he gestured to the chair across the table, I sat down.

Twirling my hair around my finger, I blurted out, “Are you all right? You’ve been gone for over a week, and I kept thinking you would have one of those attacks and I wouldn’t be able to help.” His gaze was fixed on me, and I flushed realizing I had confirmed for both of us that I cared about him.

After swallowing a bite of doughnut, he answered, “I was looking for a clean river, lake, or sea nearby. My grandma wanted her ashes sprinkled over clean water. But I couldn’t find any. I’m guessing I’ll have to go overseas for that.”

“If you’re thinking about going overseas, maybe you should go to Italy and look for clean water there. I think your grandma would be happy about that.”

His brow creased. “She would.”

“You missed your classes last week then?”

“I’ll begin at the med school in the fall. For now, I’m only with the res—”

“The research team, yeah, I know. You should have come to the research team almost a year ago, but you didn’t because of your grandma. When the doctors told you to transfer her here, you contacted the school and transferred here too.” Realizing what I had done, I put a hand over my mouth.

He almost dropped the mug he was drinking from, his eyes fixed on mine. “How do you know that? Not even my grandma knew that.”

Now the damage was done. Might as well keep going. “I know that too. She argued with you and gave you a hard time until you accepted coming, even if it meant leaving her behind. But you couldn’t leave her. She was the only family you had left.”

“How?” His gaze searched mine for answers, and I could see the lines of suspicion in his forehead. “How did you know my name? My favorite song? My favorite coffee drink?”

“I know everything about you, or almost everything.”

“Could you elaborate on that?” His tone was more brittle, like we were back to the snapping-at-me phase.

“Well. I don’t know. I don’t want you to think I’m crazy.”

He seemed to consider his next words. “It depends. If you classify being able to heal my aches and nausea as craziness, then we’re both crazy and the rest doesn’t matter, does it?”

It made sense. After all, what did I have to lose? After taking a deep breath, I confessed, “Since I came to New York, almost eleven months ago, I’ve been having visions about you. Visions, not dreams. I’m fully awake when they happen. And during these visions we talk for hours. You tell me about yourself. We spend a lot of time together.”

“Are you sure it’s me?”

I laughed. “Want to put it to the test?”

“It’s a possibility.” He sipped from his mug, his expression still wary.

“Just answer true or false to my questions.”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Your favorite color is white.”

“True.”

“Your favorite food is five-cheese homemade lasagna.”

“True.”

“Your father and his parents were born in Italy. They came to the U.S. when your father was still a toddler.”

“True.”

“You keep a photo of your parents and yourself under your pillow and a smaller one in your wallet.”

“True.”

“You have a crescent moon shaped scar on your knee from falling out of a tree when you were seven.”

His eyebrows went to his hairline. “True.”

“You should have been with your parents during the assault that killed them, but you got distracted in an electronics store across the street. Your best friend, Jason, was killed in a car accident, and you should have been with him. You were on your way to Lauren’s house when a tornado formed, but she had just called and asked you to run an errand for her, which caused you to be late and miss it. And you feel like you should have died with them.”

Some time passed before he answered, “True.”

“The last time you slept with a girl was almost a year ago, and you only did it because you were super drunk, which doesn’t happen often.”

With reddening cheeks, he held up his hands. “All right, all right.” He was visibly shaken by my knowledge. “Give me a minute. I need to process all this.” I started to get up, but he held my wrist, the warm shock startling me. Was he in need of my touch? “I didn’t mean it like that. You don’t need to leave.”

“No, it’s fine.” I pulled my arm from his grip. Perhaps, I also needed a minute. “I should check on the customers.”

I left him just as Adam was coming toward me with fuming eyes. I wasn’t up to listen to his complaints. I raised my hand to prevent him from speaking and hurried to the back, where the strong smell of coffee beans wrapped around me. I started pacing.

Oh my God! So it was true. Everything! The facts the Victor from my dream had told me, the in-the-flesh Victor had just confirmed. Oh, I knew many more facts and was certain they were all true too. How could it be? Did it mean my other recently bizarre visions about Imha and Omi and Ceris were true too? But they weren’t real, were they? Of course not.

Making me jump, Adam showed up at the back door with an indifferent look on his face. “Your friend is calling for you.”

“Th-thanks.” Like an i***t, I stopped by the restroom and in front of the mirror made sure my hair and my clothes looked okay. What was I doing?

Shaking my head, I went back work. For more than ten minutes, I waited tables and served coffee. When everyone at the café seemed content, I returned to Victor and sat in the same chair as before.

“So,” he said, running a hand over his disheveled golden hair. “What other embarrassing facts do you know about me?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably a few more.” I realized I was still twining my hair and stopped, then put my hands under my butt and sat on them. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

“These visions you have—can you control them?”

“No.”

“Then I have no right to be mad at you.” He placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hand. “But I confess, none of this makes sense. Your visions and my pains. You see, I had a checkup three months ago when the pains intensified. I’m as healthy as a person can be.”

“I know. I feel like I’m losing my mind. In fact, there are days I’m certain I’m going to end up in a psychiatric hospital for the rest of my life.”

His eyes met mine, and the air was sucked out of me.

“Well,” he said, “losing your mind or not, I’m grateful for you. The pain had grown so bad, I’m sure I would be dead by now if it weren’t for you.”

I froze. That struck a chord within me, but I couldn’t put my finger on where I had heard that before.

As if pulled by a string, my head turned toward the TV near the ceiling on the opposite corner of the cafe. The reporters delivered news: in Australia, hundreds of dolphins had been found dead on the beach; in Argentina, sick people robbed drugstores at gunpoint; in a public park in the Netherlands, a terrorist blew himself and a bunch of families apart; and in Russia, a pack of giant bats attacked and killed a group of teenagers.

What blew my mind away was what came next. The reporters showed aerial images of a small town in Switzerland, totally destroyed. Everything was either black or still on fire. There were no survivors because, as the reporter at the site said, it had happened too fast. And, while hovering over the town, they showed the images of the mountains around it and the precipice with the lake, now polluted. It was the precipice where I had stood in my vision.

My stomach lurched. I shot up and ran to the bathroom in the back, where I threw up what little food I had eaten today. My body went limp, and I fell on the floor shuddering.

After a few minutes, a knock startled me. My mind didn’t connect the dots, and I couldn’t find my voice to answer.

“Nadine, are you okay?” Victor asked.

What was he doing here? I tried sitting up and speaking to him, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. I wanted to tell him the door was unlocked, but he’d figured that out because a second later he knelt beside me.

“What happened? Nadine?” His strong hands gripped my shoulders, and he helped me sit up against the wall. “Talk to me.”

I was dizzy, wasn’t I, seeing his eyes shining with worry?

A few violent tremors ran up my body, and I felt like crying. I gathered all the strength I had left and said, “I saw that.” My voice was clogged with emotion. “I saw what was happening on TV in a vision right before I came to work.” I didn’t realize I had been crying until the tears blurred my vision. Victor wiped my cheeks, his touch sending a warm, relaxing jolt to my skin. “I never thought it would be true. It was just a vision.”

“I wasn’t just a vision.”

“You were.” I wanted to shout, though I could only whisper. “Until two months ago, you were just a vision. I never thought you could be real.” The walls were closing in on me. “Oh God, I can’t take this.”

My backbone lost its strength, but he held me in place. “Come on, I’ll get you home.” He caught me in his arms as if I were a weightless, ragged doll.

His sweet scent wrapped around me and, for a few moments, I forgot everything else. Why was he carrying me? Where was he taking me?

When he deposited me in my bed, I wondered how we had gotten here and why I didn’t remember any of it. He sat beside me.

“I think we should call a doctor.” I heard Raisa’s frantic voice, though my sight was still hazy and I couldn’t pinpoint her location.

“She just needs some rest,” he said. Then, he passed a cool glass to me. “Drink this. It’ll calm you.”

All I wanted was to calm down. I gulped the sour contents of the glass and lay back on my pillow, the whirling wind in my mind gradually slowing.

“She doesn’t seem well,” Raisa protested.

“Let’s give her some peace and quiet,” Victor said. His weight left my mattress.

I wanted to pull him back, but I didn’t think I could move my arms. I heard Raisa make some further comments, but then the voices went away and I was left alone in the dark.