Final Life: Book One in the Transhuman Chronicles

  ***

  When I opened my eyes, I found myself lying on a couch with a wet and cool cloth draped over my forehead. I blinked, adjusting my eyes to the fluorescent lighting overhead. Trent sat next to me, concern etched on his face. He had taken off his jacket and tie.

  "Where am I? What happened?"

  "We’re in a church office. You fainted right after the procession, and we carried you here."

  I sat up, and immediately my head started spinning again. Trent held me to him. "Whoa, slow down," he said.

  "I’m so sorry, Trent. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I know how much this mass means to you and your grandmother." I searched the room for her.

  "She just went back into the church," he said. And you didn’t ruin anything. I secretly wanted you all to myself anyway."

  I rested my head on his shoulder and held him tight. He smelled clean and fresh, and being so close to him sent a tingle throughout me. "Really?" I whispered.

  He cradled my neck with his warm and strong hand. "Yes, really."

  After a moment, he pulled away and studied my face intently. "Are you sure you’re okay?"

  I thought of Abigail, her words and her touch. I brought my hand to my cross. Energy still pulsated from it. What did it mean? I could never ask Trent, he’d think me crazy. Then my mind filled with Farrell. I almost thought of calling out to him, but didn’t.

  "I guess all the incense got to me," I muttered.

  "I should’ve warned you. Catholics love their incense, especially at midnight mass." Then, becoming serious, he added, "We don’t have to go back in. We can wait here until the mass is over."

  "No, I’m okay. I want to go back." I didn’t want to ruin the evening for him anymore than I already had. Plus, I wanted to see if I might catch another glimpse of Abigail.

  Trent’s worried eyes studied mine. "Okay, we’ll go back. But I am not letting go of your hand, and if you feel lightheaded just give a squeeze and we’ll leave. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  He took my hand and led me back to our seats. While we walked, I searched for Abigail, but she was gone. Shivers cascaded down my spine. Where did she go? Why did she touch my cross?

  When we sat down, Trent’s grandmother reached over and squeezed my arm. And Trent, true to his word, kept my hand in his and sat as close to me as possible. He was way too good for me, and I knew I should stop seeing him. But now that Abigail had called him her friend, I couldn’t. I had to find out what she meant.

  The mass was a series of readings, chants, and songs. Everyone sat, stood, and kneeled, over and over. After about an hour and a half, the incense faded and the mass ended.

  When we got out into the night, the cool air filled my lungs, the smell of the incense already a thing of the past. But Abigail’s words haunted me. I needed to get to Farrell right away and tell him what had happened. Maybe he had answers.