Chosen
“He’s such a dumbass,” Mer groaned. She wrapped one arm around her gown-clad waist and used the other to wipe her eyes. “I told him to come with me. Why does he always have to follow the rules? Do you think they’re angry? That we got away? ’Cause if it’s part my fault, I don’t know how I could—”
“No. No way.” Julia didn’t want to shake her head, so she wagged a finger. “I think you should remember it was just a dream. When I saw you a long time ago in my vision, you were on an Amtrak. Cayne and I later took the Amtrak to D.C. but we never saw you on it—you or Nathan.”
“Sometimes the dreams get jumbled together. You don’t know for sure what it means. But I want to know.” Meredith was up again, and pacing. “Have you had visions? Ones like Drew?”
“No. I didn’t even know that I could…do the dream thing.”
“I call it dream walking,” Meredith said miserably.
Julia puffed out her breath. “So maybe I really am The One?”
“Um, Everett’s powers didn’t work on you and neither did Thierry’s, and now you can walk in people’s dreams? I’d say so, chicka.” Meredith flipped her smooth mane over her shoulder. “You can’t stay in denial, Jules. We need to pow-wow about this soon.”
“I know.”
Meredith stepped closer, her brown eyes shining with sympathy. “Want me to go and let you get a bath? I can bring you some medicine.”
Julia nodded. “I’ll try the bath.” She cracked a tiny smile. “But not until you leave. I am so not a group-bathroom-trip girl.”
“And yet…” Mer smiled.
“I know. At least it’s only us and not Carlin, too. And neither of has used the toilet, thank Jesus.”
Mer’s smile grew wider. “I can’t believe you dream walked. Before we know it you’ll be doing everything.”
“I’m a freak. A big, freaky freak.”
“You’re multi-talented.” Mer’s brows wiggled.
“This isn’t the circus, Meredith. They’re called abilities,” Julia said in a gruff voice, amused with her own Nathan impression.
Mer slumped against the counter, big-eyed and miserable, and Julia felt like an idiot. “Do you think he’s really okay?” the other girl asked softly.
Julia nodded, but before she spewed a bunch of insincere B.S., she reached into the tub and turned the faucet knob, wanting to think about her answer for a minute. Water gushed out, smacking the marble tub and making it difficult to think around her pounding headache. She turned back to Meredith.
“I think he can handle it. And, you know, the dream might have been about anything. Maybe they’re…”
Sending him on some mission, she was going to say, but she realized that if they were, the mission was to get her. Why else would she have been there, accusing him?
“Julia, are you okay? You just kinda stopped talking.”
“Sorry.” She forced a tight smile. “I’m just tired and headachy.”
“And worried. You can’t fool this girl. What are you worried about?”
“Nothing the bubbles can’t handle.” Julia didn’t feel right about dumping her stuff on Meredith yet. “Go. Skedaddle?”
“…Skedaddle?”
“Scamper off.”
Meredith laughed as she stood to go.
Julia said, “Try not to worry too much about Nathan. Maybe Jacquie can ask…what’s his name, Stone? Maybe she can ask him how Nathan is.”
Standing in the half-opened doorway, Meredith nodded. “I’ll try not to worry. Do you want to talk about your dream? I didn’t even ask.”
“It was nothing. Just a regular nightmare.”
Meredith yawned, speaking around the hand that covered her mouth. “Well regardless, wake me up if you need to.”
Julia nodded, but she wasn’t sticking around. The moment her friend was asleep, the bath was off and she was on her way to find Edan.
*
Switzerland was cold. Like…freezing. So maybe she should have worn her snow suit, but Julia didn’t like the bulky, claustrophobic feeling it gave her. Instead, when she was sure Meredith was sleeping and she’d left a note and walkie talkie on the bedside table, she slipped into a pair of butt-hugging black jeans (a fad in St. Moritz) and a black leather jacket. Maybe it was a little much, but the thing was warm and cozy and its square-ish shoulders happened to be very flattering; Carlin had picked it out—and she knew what she was doing.
Plus, the black helped with the night-time subterfuge.
Before she sneaked out the door, she opened a box of cheap airport boutique earrings they’d bought in Zurich Airport and popped some tiny faux diamonds in her ears; no reason not to look cute. She slid one of the walkie talkies in her back pocket and looked over at the door that joined the guys’ and girls’ rooms, feeling guilty for what she was about to do. But she would be back fast, and the resort was safe, and if she could get Edan to heal her again, she wouldn’t have to tell anybody else about her problem. They needed time to feel these Swosen out, and she didn’t want anyone else pushing her into anything before she could get her own read on them. Even Cayne.
The hall was quiet except the low hum of music over the speakers. Brown and beige ceramic wall scones cast a gentle amber glow over the gleaming wood walls and plush red rug.
Julia’s head pounded with every step, reminding her over and over again that she really was The One. Reminding her that she had no idea what that meant. Reminding her how important it was to get her leash removed. She’d more than earned a right to her own life.
She stood in the corner of the elevator, leaning against its mirrored walls, with her arms tucked around herself and her eyes closed. The headache was doing its spreading thing again, burning through her upper body. It made her feel nauseated and weak.
The doors trembled open and a whoosh of colder air hit her, but she didn’t move. Even her chest hurt, a deep, almost numbing feeling that was immediately forgotten as she heard a shout, followed by a round of clapping.
She stepped out into the hall and glanced over to her left, where, behind the counter, she saw a girl and a guy hovering around a computer, and a flatscreen behind them showing a room full of people on computers.
“WoW,” the girl giggled, smiling shyly at Julia. “Want to play? You look kind of lost.”
“No thanks. But can you help me find the tram?”
The girl’s delicate red brows clenched. “At this hour? You must have a boy problem.”
Julia laughed, a burst of pain. “Something like that,” she croaked.
The nice, strawberry-blonde girl gave her directions, but she had to stop in the rounded hallway before she reached her destination. Her knees were trembling. In fact, her whole body was crying out, like she’d been run over by a train. She wanted to sleep… Just sleep.
She wanted it so badly, it was kind of scary. She would have to find a Red Bull… or one of those Rockstar drinks. Something to help her hide from Cayne, she thought blearily. The thought made tears pool in her eyes, because she knew how unhappy he would be if he knew the truth.
She would sit here on the carpet for just a second longer, and then she’d go find Edan. He could help her. Except… as she glanced once more down the hall, she found herself staring up at Cayne.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Hot damn, that was definitely him! Julia reacted like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She hopped up so fast her head roared with pain, her cheeks flushed, and her stomach bottomed out. Fluffy black spots danced in and out of her field of vision as she ran her hands over her clothes and tried to smile.
Fail.
Her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t meld it into a smile, and it was too late anyway. Cayne had noticed her, there on the floor, and now she watched his expression morph from furious to shocked…to furious. His mouth lolled open like a goldfish, and she knew he was trying to decide how to react as he strode closer.
When his hands caught her elbows, everything but concern flew off his face. His short, da
rk hair emphasized his handsome features, making him look starker. She looked into his gorgeous green eyes and wondered how she was going to tell him. She was still looking there when she saw him realize for himself.
“It’s the headache, right? I can see it there.” He motioned to her face, around her eyes.
Julia’s mouth trembled, but she bit her lip and nodded, determined not to cry.
He came in close beside her, wrapping one arm around her back and using his other hand to clasp hers. “You came looking for me? I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”
“For Edan,” she whispered.
His brows arched. “Is it that bad?”
“Only recently.” Julia stared over his shoulder, at a wall scone. “It was only there a little, and then tonight it started getting worse.” Her voice sounded small, so she swallowed. “I’m not going back to The Three.”
“You won’t.” He assured her, and then he mutter something about Edan.
“What?” she said, suddenly wondering what he was doing wandering halls.
“I just talked to Edan. He left.”
“What do you mean?” She frowned.
“It’s a long story. We got into it.”
“You had an argument?”
Cayne nodded, looking angry. “He’d rather play television games.”
Television games?
“Don’t worry. I’ll take you back to the room and then I’ll find him.”
“Cayne…don’t.” She wrapped her aching arms around him. “Can we just stand here for a minute?” They were right in front of a window; she could see the slopes, lit with green lights, below the contour of his bicep.
His arms, around her back, tightened, and he buried his face in her shoulder. “Julia, I’m so sorry. I would do anything to take this away.”
“I know.” Her fingers stroked through his short hair, and he kissed her jaw. “I love you.”
He squeezed her tighter, and Julia felt her feet rise off the ground. “I love you, too. You are my heart.”
She leaned her head against his chin, feeling loved and a little more hopeful. “I’ll get better. We’ll figure it out.” She was so tired, so content, and so relaxed, she didn’t notice they were literally floating a few inches off the ground until a cry rang out, Cayne whirled around, and a body guard barreled toward them. Their feet hit the floor a second before he throttled Cayne.
It was one of Jessica Stanton’s guards—the one with the pale blond hair, crystalline blue eyes, and hard, flawless face. Julia barely had time to register his black jeans, black boots, black jacket before he was on Cayne like a second skin, landing hard and violent punches that made awful crunching sounds. Julia’s heart raced—her head killed—as Cayne bent over, but then he reared up, smashing a fist into the guard’s amazing face.
It might have been an illusion caused by her headache, but Julia could have sworn they both moved so fast they blurred—like coyote and roadrunner in those old cartoons. But no…it wasn’t an illusion.
She took a tentative step backwards and sagged against the wall, panting as she vacillated between helping Cayne and throwing up.
The fight was surprisingly even, with Cayne staying a half-step ahead on the blow-by-blow, but the guard returning powerful hits that knocked Cayne all around the hall. Julia didn’t understand how that was possible, unless the guard was also a Nephilim, or maybe some kind of special Chosen.
The fight seemed to go on impossibly long, too, but maybe it was just a few seconds of the guard banging Cayne into the wall before Cayne landed a brutal kick. The guard nearly flipped before crashing to the floor, and Cayne’s blood dagger appeared in his hand.
Do it, Julia thought weakly, not sure how much longer she could stay conscious with her head throbbing like it was.
Cayne didn’t do it. In fact, he hesitated. And then the weirdest thing happened: Out of thin air, the guard whipped out a bow and an arrow, both glowing in what could only be called celestial light—
Holy shit, he’s an angel.
Julia sagged and clutched her head, because the light made everything vibrate, and it was like being kicked between the eyes.
Before the guard could pull his bow back, Cayne stabbed him. At least, that’s what Julia assumed. The guard’s roar made her eyes open, and as she wobbled to her feet, she saw Cayne ripping his blood dagger down the guard’s right side. Just then another bodyguard came flying around the curved hall. Before he reached Cayne, his arrow did. It pierced Cayne’s shoulder and Cayne reacted like Julia had never seen, crying out in agony and sinking to his knees as both of the guards jumped on him.
Julia screamed, and she rushed forward, thinking oh, shit! These were evil angels! Which was the last coherent thought she had before she collided with Jacquie, and the world fell away.
*
Julia awoke to Performance Today. She knew it was Performance Today before she opened her eyes, because the classical music program had been Suzanne’s favorite, and the voice of the show’s host, Fred Childs, was burned into her brain.
She did a quick body check—her head still hurt like leaping lizards—before opening her eyes and frowning at a London Olympics poster. She squinted and realized that the squiggles on the poster were signatures. Her next thought was CAYNE!
She glanced left and right, the motion making the base of her skull throb, but all she found was a table topped with a bunch of trophies and a corner shelf filled with ice skates
The room was narrow, with barely enough space for her twin, hospital-style bed amidst a bunch of junk like beanbags, rocking chairs, water guns, American Girl dolls— American Girl dolls? They weren’t even in America.
A confused little groan escaped her mouth, and the door flew open—a door she hadn’t even seen behind a human-sized, cardboard Twilight Edward. Cayne was beside her bed so fast it nearly gave her whiplash.
For a second he looked like a regular guy, and it made her feel like a regular girl. He stroked her hair with his big, warm hand, and she looked into his eyes. Then Jacquie stepped in behind him, and he went insta-on guard. Julia glanced at the Swosen leader, who was watching them openly, then back to Cayne.
“How do you feel?” he rumbled. “You’ve been out for a few hours.”
“Have I?” Julia could see light peeking around the curtain covering a small, round window. Feeling slightly panicked at the passage of time, she did her best to push herself up on her arms without wincing from her headache.
Jacquie had stepped a little closer, and was now standing shoulder-to-shoulder with cardboard Edward, looking contrite. “I apologize for the state of your room,” she said. “It’s sort of my own little private infirmary, but it’s also a stockroom for the children. Hence the dolls,” she added, holding up a Samantha whose dark hair had been chopped chin-length.
“I didn’t realize there were so many.”
“How are you feeling,” the woman asked gently, as Julia looked into Cayne’s assessing eyes.
She felt an uncomfortable flush sweep over her face and neck. “I don’t know,” she said. “What happened?”
“I’ll let your boyfriend tell you while I get some tea. I know you may want a moment to collect yourself. If you’re feeling well enough, we can leave this cluttered room and go out onto the couch.”
“Thanks.”
When the woman left, Julia took Cayne’s hands. “Were those angels?”
He nodded, then gave a tight, sarcastic smile. “They didn’t realize I was ‘friendly.’”
“You are so friendly.” Cayne scowled, and Julia grinned. She pointed at his shoulder. “It looks fine now.”
“Jacquie had one of them heal it. Not that I asked. It would have healed on its own eventually.”
“What a bad ass.” She smiled.
“The baddest.”
“I think you mean worst.”
He wagged his finger.
Julia sighed. “So you were fine after that, but I was like…passed out?”
“Jacqui
e said she ran into you. Thought it might have knocked you out. I know that’s not it.”
“You thought I passed out because of my head?”
He nodded, his face super serious. “I was frightened.”
Julia reached up to caress his prickly jaw. “I’m sorry.” She actually kinda had passed out because of her head, but it was true that she was sorry. Really, really freakin’ sorry to see her tough guy so upset.
“My head actually feels a little bit better. We’ll find some help. Maybe Edan, maybe someone here. But right now I want to know the deal with the angels.”
Cayne inhaled deeply, nodded. “I’d like to hear more, too. Most of the time you were asleep I was with you, on that beanbag.”
“I bet that was a new experience for you?”
“The beanbag?”
“Yeah.”
“Not a fan.” Cayne shook his head. “It was…unsteady.”
Julia smiled as he helped her out of the bed.
*
Jacquie’s apartment smelled like mint and tea. The Swosen leader, wearing a loose white blouse and a long braid, was already seated on the small couch, and on the glass coffee table was a platter with three mugs of steaming tea and one cup of water.
She glanced at the two of them, again with that curious look—like she’d never seen a Nephilim and a Chosen together before (and, okay, to be fair she probably hadn’t). “Hi there, Julia. I’ve talked a bit to Cayne. We have the Authority situation under control.”
“Authority situation?”
“Angels. Neither of our sides wants the barrier to come down; they would prefer no one taking a shot at heaven, and we don’t want demons roaming around. You could call us allies.”
Julia frowned, still trying to make her brain accept it. “So they’re not bodyguards?”
Jacquie shook her head, smiling like she had a secret. “Sometimes they function as guards for some of our more…high-profile guests, because they’re warriors and we can use them in that way while they’re here.
“They tend to be…distrustful of Nephilim. It was my fault for not notifying them sooner of Cayne’s status.”
“Which is what?” Julia said tightly.