“And this year’s winners are . . . ,” began the speaker. She paused for dramatic effect and the audience groaned in frustration. “Bethany Church and Jake Thorn!”
The room burst into wild applause, and for a split second I scanned the crowd for the winners until I realized it was my name that had been called. I maintained my stony expression as I walked up onto the dais with Jake, although his disgust seemed to have morphed into amusement. Everything felt wrong as Molly placed the crown on my head and presented me with my sash. Jake, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the attention. We had to lead the crowd in a waltz, so I gave Jake my hand and he slipped his arm around my waist. Even though I’d practiced waltzing with Xavier, I didn’t feel so confident now that he wasn’t with me. Luckily angels have the advantage of catching on to things relatively easily. I followed Jake’s lead, and soon the rhythm of the dance was bolstered in my mind. My limbs moved like water, and I was surprised to find that Jake was just as graceful.
Ivy and Gabriel passed by us, their bodies moving in sync, flowing like silk. Their feet hardly touched the floor, and they looked as if they were floating. Even with their somber expressions, they were so entrancing to watch that people stopped and stared, giving them a wide berth on the dance floor. My siblings soon got tired of being the entertainment for the evening and headed back to their table.
As the music changed tempo, Jake whirled me to the edge of the dance floor. He leaned forward so that his lips brushed against my ear.
“You’re dazzling.”
“So are you.” I laughed, trying to keep the mood light. “All the girls think so.”
“Do you think so?”
“Well . . . I think you’re very charming.”
“Charming,” he mused. “I suppose that’ll do for now. You know, I’ve never met a girl with a face like yours. Your skin is the color of moonlight; your eyes are fathomless.”
“Now you’re just overdoing it,” I teased. I could sense him about to launch into one of his tirades and wanted to prevent it at all costs.
“You’re not good at accepting compliments, are you?” he said.
I blushed. “Not really. I never know what to say.”
“How about a simple thank-you?”
“Thanks, Jake.”
“That wasn’t so hard. Now, I could use some fresh air. What about you?”
“It’s a bit hard to get out,” I said, nodding in the direction of the teachers standing guard at the exits.
“I’ve sussed out an escape route. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Jake’s escape route was via a back door that had somehow been overlooked. It was past the restrooms and through a storeroom at the rear of the building. He helped me over the buckets and mops stacked against the walls, and suddenly I found myself alone with him on the balcony that wound around the whole exterior of the pavilion. It was a clear night, the sky was scattered with stars, and the breeze was cool on my skin. Through the windows we could see couples still dancing, the girls a little wilted now and appreciatively allowing their weight to be supported by their partners. At some distance from the others stood Gabriel and Ivy, shimmering as if they’d been sprinkled with stardust.
“So many stars,” Jake murmured, so softly he might have been speaking to himself, “but none as beautiful as you.”
He was so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek. I lowered my eyes, wishing he would stop offering me compliments. I tried deflecting the focus onto him.
“I wish I was as sure of myself as you are. Nothing seems to faze you.”
“Why would it?” he replied. “Life’s a game—and I happen to know how to play.”
“Even you must make mistakes sometimes.”
“That’s exactly the sort of attitude that stops people from winning,” he said.
“Everyone loses at some point; but we can learn from loss.”
“Who told you that?” Jake shook his head, his emerald eyes boring into mine. “I don’t like to lose and I always get what I want.”
“So right now do you have everything you want?”
“Not quite,” he replied. “One thing is missing.”
“And what’s that?” I asked warily. Something told me I was treading on dangerous ground.
“You,” he said simply.
I didn’t know how to respond. I didn’t appreciate the new turn the conversation was taking. “Well, that’s flattering, Jake, but you know I’m not available.”
“That’s irrelevant.”
“Not to me!” I took a step back. “I’m in love with Xavier.”
Jake regarded me coolly. “Isn’t it obvious to you that you’re with the wrong person?”
“No, it’s not,” I retorted. “I suppose you’re arrogant enough to think you’re the right person?”
“I just think I deserve a chance.”
“You promised not to bring this up again,” I said. “You and I are friends, and you ought to value that.”
“Oh, I do, but it’s not enough for me.”
“That’s not for you to decide! I’m not a toy that you can just point your finger at and have.”
“I disagree.”
He sprang lightly forward, grabbing my shoulders, and pulled me toward him. He pressed our bodies together and his lips sought mine. I averted my face in protest, but he brought one hand up to force me to look at him and crushed his lips against mine. Something flashed in the sky, though there’d been no sign of rain. His kiss was hard and forceful, and his hands held my body in an iron grip. I struggled, pushing against his chest, and finally broke the contact between us.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I shouted, my anger fomenting now.
“Giving us what we both want,” he replied.
“I don’t want this,” I cried. “What have I done to make you think I wanted this?”
“I know you, Bethany Church. You’re no mouse,” Jake snarled. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, and I’ve felt the connection between us.”
“There is no connection,” I stressed. “Not with you. I’m sorry if you’ve been misled.”
His eyes flashed dangerously. “Are you honestly turning me down?” he asked.
“I honestly am,” I said. “I’m with Xavier. I’ve been trying to tell you that. It’s not my fault you’ve chosen not to believe me.”
Jake took a step toward me, his face dark with anger. “Are you quite sure you know what you’re doing?”
“I’ve never been more sure about anything,” I said coldly. “You and I can only ever be friends, Jake.”
He let out a throaty laugh. “No, thank you,” he announced. “Not interested.”
“Can’t you at least try to be mature about this?” I said.
“I don’t think you understand, Beth. We’re meant to be together. I’ve waited for you all my life.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been looking for you for centuries. I’d almost given up hope.”
I felt a strange coldness grip my chest. What was he talking about?
“Never, in my wildest dreams, did I imagine that you would be . . . one of them. I struggled against it at first, but it was no use—our destiny is written in the stars.”
“You’ve got the wrong idea,” I said. “We have no destiny together.”
“Do you know what it’s like to wander the earth aimlessly in search of someone who could be anywhere? I’m not about to walk away from it now.”
“Well, maybe you don’t have a choice.”
“I’m going to give you one more chance,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t think you realize this, but you’re making a terrible mistake—one that will cost you dearly.”
“I don’t respond to threats,” I said haughtily.
“Very well.” Jake’s whole face clouded over and he took a step away, his body giving a violent shudder as though he was enraged by the very sight of me. “I’m done making nice with the angels.”
Playing
with Fire
In the next moment Jake spun around and disappeared the way we’d come. I stood fixed to the spot, a chill permeating my body. I wondered if I could have misheard the threat in his parting words. But I knew I hadn’t. I suddenly felt like the night was pressing down on me, suffocating me. There were two things I was now certain of: First, Jake Thorn knew about us; and second, he was dangerous. I realized I had been completely blind not to see it before. I had so badly wanted to see the good in him that I’d ignored the blatant warning signs that screamed at me to retreat. Now those signs were flashing as bright as neon lights.
Someone grabbed my elbow and I gasped. I was relieved to find it was just Molly.
“What’s going on?” she demanded. “We could see you through the window! Are you with Jake now? Did you and Xavier have a fight or something?”
“No,” I spluttered, “I’m not with Jake, of course not! He just . . . I don’t know what happened . . . I have to go home.”
“What? Why? You can’t just leave. What about the after-party?” Molly said, but I had already started running.
I found Gabriel and Ivy seated at the teachers’ table and pulled them away. “We have to leave,” I said, tugging at Gabe’s sleeve.
I wasn’t sure if he already knew what had happened or if he just sensed the urgency in my voice, but he didn’t ask any questions. He and Ivy silently collected their belongings and led me out of the pavilion and into the Jeep. They listened wordlessly on the trip home as I explained what had happened with Jake and repeated his parting words.
“I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid,” I moaned, putting my head in my hands. “I should have noticed . . . I should have realized.”
“This is not your fault, Bethany,” said Ivy.
“What’s the matter with me?” I replied. “Why didn’t I feel it? You felt something was wrong, didn’t you? You knew it as soon as he set foot in our house.”
“We felt a dark energy,” Gabe admitted.
“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked. “Why didn’t you stop me from going with him?”
“We couldn’t be sure,” Gabriel said. “His mind was very guarded; it was nearly impossible to glean any information. It might have been nothing, and we didn’t want to worry you for no reason.”
“Troubled humans can also have dark auras,” Ivy added. “The result of any number of things, tragedy, grief, pain. . . .”
“And evil intentions,” I added.
“Those too,” admitted Gabriel. “We didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but if this boy knows what we are then there is every chance that he may be . . . well, stronger than your average human.”
“How much stronger?”
“I don’t know,” Gabriel replied. “Unless . . . you don’t think Xavier might have . . .” He trailed off.
I shot an angry glance in his direction.
“Xavier would never tell anyone our secret,” I said. “I can’t believe you’d even think that. You should know him by now.”
“Okay. Say Xavier has nothing to do with this,” said Gabriel. “There is something unnatural about Jake Thorn—I can feel it and so can you, Bethany.”
“So what do we do now?” I asked.
“We have to bide our time,” replied Gabriel. “These events will unfold naturally. We mustn’t rush into anything. If he is truly dangerous, he will reveal himself in time.”
When we got home, Ivy offered hot cocoa, but I declined. I went upstairs and took off my dress, feeling as though a great weight had just descended onto my shoulders. Things had been going so well, and now it seemed this one boy threatened to destroy it all. I tugged the pearls out of my hair and wiped off my makeup, feeling suddenly like nothing more than an imposter. It was too late to call Xavier, although I knew that speaking to him would make me feel better. Instead I put on my familiar pajamas and crawled into bed, clutching a stuffed toy Xavier had given me for comfort. I let the tears leak from my closed lids and soak into my pillow. I didn’t feel angry or frightened anymore; I just felt sad. I wished so much that things could be straightforward and simple. Why was our mission fraught with so many complications? I knew it was childish, but all I could think was how unjust it all was. I was too weary not to allow myself to drift off to sleep, but I did so knowing that all too soon a storm was about to rage.
I didn’t hear from Xavier all weekend. I assumed he hadn’t heard about the incident at the prom, and I didn’t want to stress him. I was so preoccupied worrying about Jake that I didn’t even stop to wonder why Xavier hadn’t called. We rarely went more than a few hours without talking.
On the other hand, I didn’t have to wait long to hear from Jake Thorn. Monday morning at school when I opened my locker, a slip of paper fell out and drifted slowly to the ground, like a crinkled petal. I picked it up, expecting it to be a note from Xavier that would either make me sigh adoringly or giggle like a schoolgirl. But the handwriting didn’t belong to Xavier; it was the same skillfully sharp calligraphy that I knew from my literature class. When I read what was written on the paper, I felt my blood freeze:
I showed the note to Gabriel, who read it and then crumpled it in frustration without speaking a word. I tried not to think about Jake for the rest of the day, but it wasn’t an easy task. Xavier wasn’t at school, and I desperately wanted to speak to him. It felt like an eternity since Friday, so much had happened.
The day passed in a gray haze. I came alive for about five minutes during lunchtime when I borrowed Molly’s cell phone to call Xavier, but I descended back into grayness as soon as it went to voice mail. Not having any contact with him made me feel lethargic and heavy. A cloud seemed to have filled my mind, and I couldn’t catch any of the thoughts that skidded through my head because they disappeared too quickly.
At the end of the day, I went home with my brother and still hadn’t heard anything from Xavier. I tried calling him again from home, but the sound of the voice mail only made me want to cry. I sat and waited all afternoon and all through dinner for him to call or for the doorbell to ring, but there was nothing. Didn’t he want to know how the prom had gone? Had something happened to him? What was the reason behind his sudden silence? I didn’t understand.
“I can’t get through to Xavier,” I managed to choke out over dinner. “He wasn’t at school, and he won’t answer my calls.”
Ivy and Gabriel looked at each other.
“There’s no need to panic, Bethany,” said Ivy kindly. “There are plenty of reasons why he might not be answering his phone.”
“What if he’s unwell?”
“We would have sensed it,” Gabriel reassured me.
I nodded and tried to swallow my dinner, but the food stuck like glue in my throat. I didn’t want to speak to Ivy or Gabriel anymore; I just dragged myself up to bed feeling like the walls were closing in on me.
When I realized Xavier was absent from school the following day, my eyes burned and I felt hot and dizzy. I wanted to crumple to the ground and just wait for someone to carry me away. I couldn’t make it through another day without him; I could hardly make it through another minute. Where was he? What was he trying to do to me?
Molly saw me sagging against my locker. She walked up and put a hand gingerly on my shoulder.
“Bethie, are you okay, hon?”
“I need to speak to Xavier,” I said. “But I can’t get in touch with him.”
Molly bit her lip. “I think there’s something you need to see,” she said softly.
“What?” I asked, panic edging into my voice. “Is Xavier okay?”
“He’s fine,” Molly said. “Just come with me.”
She led me up to the third floor of the school and into one of the computer labs. It was a dull room with gray flecked carpet, no windows, and rows of computers, their blank screens staring at us. Molly flicked one on and pulled up a couple of chairs. She tapped her acrylic nails against the desk, humming in irritation. When the computer had finished loading, she clicked on
an icon and rapidly typed something into the toolbar.
“What are you doing?” I asked and she turned to face me.
“You know how I told you about Facebook and how awesome it is?” she said.
I nodded blankly.
“Well, there are some parts that aren’t so awesome.”
“Like what?”
“Well . . . it’s not very private, for one thing.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
I knew she was getting at something, but I couldn’t figure out what, and judging from the look on her face, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. She was staring at me with a mixture of concern and dread. I knew Molly had a tendency to overreact so I tried not to panic. Her idea of disaster and mine were completely different.
Molly took a deep breath. “Okay . . . let me show you.”
She tapped a key, and her Facebook page appeared on the screen. She read aloud the slogan that was written below the heading: “Facebook helps you connect and share with the people in your life. Except in this case, it was something we didn’t really want to share,” she said cryptically.
I was getting tired of the secrecy. “Just tell me what’s happened. It can’t be that bad.”
“Okay, okay,” she said. “Just be prepared.” She clicked on a photo album titled “Prom Pics by Kristy Peters.”
“Who’s she?”
“Just a girl in our grade. She was taking photos all night.”
“Wait, it says I’m tagged in this album,” I said.
“That’s right.” Molly nodded. “You and . . . someone else.”
Molly clicked on a thumbnail image, and I waited for the full-size picture to load on the screen. My heart thumped in my chest. Had Kristy somehow managed to capture my wings on camera? Or was it just a really unflattering photo that Molly had dubbed an “emergency.” But when the picture flashed up on the screen, I realized that it wasn’t either of those things. It was worse; much, much worse. A ripple of nausea washed through me and my vision tunneled so that all I could see were the two faces on the screen: mine and Jake Thorn’s locked together in a kiss. I sat and stared for several long moments. Jake’s hands were gripping my back, and my hands were on his shoulders, trying to push him away. I had my eyes closed in shock; but to anyone who hadn’t been there to witness the full scene, it looked like I was lost in a moment of passion.