Requiem p-2 Page 5

  “Thank you. And it always is. She’s not one for lengthy phone conversations.”

  Bex replied with a nod. He was becoming so much like Jared — not one for many words, but it was obvious what he was thinking just by the slightest change in his eyes. Not that a child of Lillian’s would be any different, but I was so proud of the man Bex was quickly turning into. He made me feel just as safe as Jared or Claire, and he was one of the kindest people I knew.

  Bex was a constant reminder of the night Shax’s henchmen tried to capture me in Lillian's home, and the subsequent months I spent without Jared. Every time Bex was around, each time someone mentioned his name, the sound of Harry Crenshaw's vertebrae snapping resonated in my mind. Bex killing anyone seemed so impossible, but I knew better than anyone that impossible didn’t exist.

  The ride to Brown was long. Each passing minute of each class was an eternity. Even lunch seemed to drag on. The clock demanded my attention within minutes of the last time I had looked at it. Normally the irritation surrounding me would be unbearable, but catching up on lost sleep seemed to help.

  “Is that a no?” Beth asked, nudging me.

  “Huh? I said, realizing I had missed a large chunk of the table conversation. We sat in our usual spot at the Ratty, with one chair remaining empty in honor of Ryan’s absence. It was then I noticed a second chair was also empty.

  “I said have you heard from Kim? She wasn’t in American Public’s class. She’s not here. I tried her cell, but got her voice mail.”

  “No, I haven’t,” I said, glancing around the Ratty. “Not since this morning.”

  Beth frowned, leaning against Chad, as she always did when she was unsettled. “She never misses class.”

  Our lunch table was relatively quiet after that, making the minutes pass even more slowly, if that were possible.

  The afternoon seemed like an eternity, and by the time Bex dropped me off at the front entrance of Titan, I was crawling out of my skin.

  Sasha seemed the likely target to vent my frustration, but she wasn’t in. Annoyed, I rode the elevator to the third floor, settling on Grant as a second choice.

  “Afternoon, Peanut,” Grant called from his office.

  “Piss off.”

  Instantly, I felt better.

  “If you didn’t own the company, I would fire you for insubordination,” he said with an amused grin.

  “Insubordination requires disregard of a command. I simply responded to your greeting,” I said, stopping abruptly at my office door.

  “Is that what you had in mind?” Grant asked, shoving his hands in his pockets, oozing with pride.

  “I….” I stumbled over the words, reading the letters once more.

  Nina Grey

  Acting CEO

  Jack Grey

  CEO

  “It’s barely dry,” Grant said, teetering back and forth.

  I looked out the closest window, and anywhere else in the room other than the door to hide my expression.

  “It’s fine,” I said, pushing past him, and shutting the door before he could speak again.

  Taking a deep breath, I let my body melt into the door. The office still smelled of mahogany, wood polish and the slightest hint of tobacco. It was as if the room had frozen in time the second he died. I could almost hear him talking loud and authoritative on the telephone.

  I walked across the room slowly, noting the pictures of him with members of Congress, plaques, a coat of arms, and degrees adorned the walls. To my disgust, the large painting of my mother and me still hung between the two large windows over-looking Fleet Rink.

  “That’s going to have to go,” I said, collapsing into Jack's large, black leather chair.

  The stack of unopened envelopes was my first order of business, and then I read my company emails. Bored as I was, at least it kept my mind from Jared and the time. Just as the sun began to set, my cell phone chirped.

  “Hey Bex,” I said through a yawn, “almost done.”

  “Well that’s good news, Sweetheart,” Jared said.

  “Hi!” I said, my voice far too high to feign anything but elation. In reaction, I leaned over to look out the window to the street. No black Escalade.

  “You’re not coming home tonight, are you?” I said, deflated.

  “On the contrary. I will be home at ten. Is that too late for dinner?”

  The road noise should have given it away, but I had expected to be disappointed. “Where are you?”

  “On the road,” he said.

  I sighed. “Do I need security clearance for that answer?”

  Jared laughed. “I’ll tell you all about it when I get home. Bex tells me you had a good night’s sleep last night. Is this true?”

  “It is. No bad dreams.”

  “I look forward to watching you sleep the whole night through, then.”

  “See you soon,” I smiled.

  My steps were light as I made my way out of the building, and I couldn’t contain my smile when I sat in the passenger seat of the BMW.

  “You talked to Jared,” Bex said with a knowing smile.

  “He’s coming home,” I smiled.

  “We better go move his stuff around and hide his home gym,” Bex smiled, pulling away from the curb. “He’ll hate that.”

  I laughed. “You’re in charge of the home gym. I’ll mix up the forks and spoons.”

  “I got it covered,” Bex said with an mischievous grin. “You have dinner plans.”

  “Oh. Right,” I said, sinking into the sink with a huff.

  Bex sped to Cynthia’s faster and with more precision than any television car chase I’d ever seen, much less been a part of. He jerked the wheel, and let the Beemer slide, counter-clockwise, into the loft’s parallel parking spot.

  “One of you will get pulled over one of these days, and I’m going to laugh,” I said, trying to steady myself once my feet hit the pavement.

  “Our boss has plenty of money to bail us out,” he smiled.

  “I won’t bail you out. I’ll laugh.”

  “Even if it was Jared?” Bex said, escorting me up the iron steps.

  “Especially if it was Jared.”

  “I don’t believe you. And if Claire found out about it….”

  “You’re right. I’d bail you out,” I nodded.

  I changed clothes quickly, and then followed Bex to the Beemer once again, letting him drive like a controlled maniac to my parents' home.

  Arriving within minutes, Bex jumped out of the driver's side to open my door. We traded small talk as he walked with me up the concrete steps, both of us hoping it would be one of our shorter visits. Just as I reached for the handle, Cynthia opened the door, startling me.

  “Mother….”

  “Agatha is ill today. I’ve barely been able to tend to dinner. Of all days for her to get sick….” Cynthia said, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. Her eyes targeted Bex.

  “Good evening, Mrs. Grey,” Bex said.

  She nodded politely. “Will you be joining us, Bex?”

  “No, Ma’am. Simply covering a shift.”

  Cynthia’s cold eyes narrowed at him as she held out her arm to usher me into the house.

  “I'll wait here,” Bex whispered.

  “Probably safer,” I mouthed.

  She wasted no time. “And where is Jared?”

  “Er…resting,” I said, cringing at my words. Surely I would be better at lying on the spot by now.

  “Hmm….” she said, clearly unconvinced. She didn’t press the issue, I assumed it was because of the fact that I was safe. Beyond that she didn’t bother to question.

  The table had been set, but I helped bring out the soup and salad, and entrée.

  “I’m sorry I always have to ask,” I said, waiting for her infamous scowl.

  “You're predictable,” she snapped. Her expression soon smoothed as she scanned the table. “I thought I would try something different. Chicken Coconut Soup, and wild mushroom fricassee over Polen
ta.”

  “Whatever that is,” I said, overwhelmed.

  “Nina, really. You act as though you were fed take-out your entire life. I have always enjoyed cooking.”

  “And you never cease to surprise me,” I said, smiling.

  She didn’t ask about Jared’s whereabouts again. We stumbled over the small talk, and politely discussed the weather. Cynthia hadn’t mentioned my father since I returned home from the hospital. I wondered if she ever would. The residual circles under my eyes were a brief topic of conversation, and then I helped her clean the dinner dishes before saying goodbye.

  “Dinner was uneventful?” Bex asked, holding the passenger door of the Beemer open.

  My eyes narrowed at my former home. “She’s up to something. You’re sure she hasn’t called or talked to Jared?”

  “Haven’t heard a word,” Bex shrugged.

  At the loft, I found myself struggling to stay awake to witness Jared’s homecoming. Reality television kept my attention for a while, but I finally trudged up the stairs in defeat.

  “Aw…but they’re going to get in the hot tub in a second. The girls get in a cat fight, its funny!”

  “Wake me when he gets home,” I said.

  “Aye, aye, El Capitan,” he responded.

  “You know you’re not supposed to speak foreign languages to me,” I grumbled, falling into the bed with my clothes on. My voice wasn’t loud enough to travel to the first level, but Bex could hear, regardless.

  “I wasn’t…never mind,” Bex said, too involved in the hot tub disco party to argue.

  Just as I closed my eyes, they popped open again. The alarm clock on Jared’s side read nine-thirty.

  “You okay, Nina?” Bex called up. “Bad dreams?”

  “No,” I whispered. Just that minuscule bit of effort was all I could manage. I hadn’t realized I was so tired, and it was so much easier to fall asleep without the fear of screaming myself awake.

  Ice was beneath me, and my bare toes wiggled against the smooth, shiny whiteness below. That was the only way I was aware it was dream — my feet were warm and comfortable. My father’s office window came into view above me. I was standing alone in the middle of Fleet Rink. Soon my naked feet were adorned with a pair of new ice skates, and Jack stood in the window, smiling down at me. A crowd of people, young and old, circled the space where I stood. Sporting matching red noses, their misty breath puffed out with each word or laugh.

  I waved to him, and he waved back. Pushing forward, I could hear the blade of my skate scratching the surface of the ice. Looking up again, I noticed Jack was no longer smiling. Instead he bobbed in and out of visibility, pacing back and forth in his office, and then I saw Gabe.

  They were arguing.

  Oh no, I thought, feeling the tugging feeling again. No!

  Back in the dusty, stale office, I landed on all fours again. Anger surged through me. My nights were just returning to normal. I wanted to sleep all night in Jared’s arms. I wanted him to see that things were getting better, that I was getting better.

  “I’m not doing this again!” I yelled, storming Jack and Gabe.

  They ignored me, repeating the same scripted dialogue from before.

  “Stop!” I said. “I don’t want to do this anymore!”

  “Are you sure you want to do this, Jack?” Gabe asked.

  My mouth formed around each of Jack’s words. “Are you sure it’s her, Gabe?” He paused for Gabe’s answer, and then continued, “Then you know the answer.” I shook my head from side to side as I spoke along with him, copying him like a toddler, angry and snide.

  A ferocious rage overtook me, and I grabbed the book from Jack’s hands.

  Time stopped. Several times before, I had attempted to physically interrupt, and failed. Jack, Gabe, and the book were always very real, but when I tried to interfere, they were the consistency of a hologram. This time the book was in my hands.

  Gabe’s head turned up in quick motion to face me, his eyes a solid black. “Ars Notoria,” he whispered in a voice not his own.

  The change of events frightened me. I stumbled back, away from my father and his friend. They were frozen in time like everything else in the room. Even the moonlit dust motes were hanging motionless in the air, but I could hear the screeches of the demons as they approached.

  The dimensions of the room stretched, and the wood groaned and creaked. As I worked to keep my feet beneath me, I gripped the book tighter in my hands. The possibility of taking it back with me crossed my mind. It was the only reason I would be able to take it from Gabe.

  I looked to the large window and closed my eyes. “It’s just a dream,” I said softly, confident the fall would wake me up. Opening my eyes with the Naissance de Demoniac in my hands wouldn’t be the most impossible thing that had ever happened to me.

  In a full sprint, I bound for the window, bracing myself to leap through the glass and into the night, but before I could, a searing pain spread throughout my hands. I abruptly stopped and threw the book to the ground. Although the leather no longer touched my skin, the parts of my fingers and palms that had been in direct contact with the binding were charred and smoldering. My hands shook violently as the burns traveled up my arms, and I wailed at the intense heat spreading throughout my body; it was as if I were on fire. The sensation was unlike anything I had experienced before, but I couldn’t imagine anything more excruciating.

  The sound emanating from my throat didn’t sound like my own as I protested the torture consuming me. Any moment the demons would come, and I would beg them for death.

  A hole opened up beneath me and I fell. In that instant the pain was gone, and a soft, cool mattress was beneath me. Jerking to a sitting position, I held my arms in front of me. They were peach and unblemished.

  Jared and Bex stood next to the bed with terror in their eyes.

  “She was at least four feet above the bed!” Bex said, his eyes wide. “Has that happened before?”

  “No,” Jared said, his expression exponentially more intense than the agonized look I had been accustomed to waking up to. He was afraid.

  “Above the bed?” I asked, confused.

  Bex sat on the bed and watched me for a moment, then took the sheet and wiped the sweat from my hairline. “You were seriously hovering! It was something straight out of the Exorcist!”

  I hoped for one moment that Bex was being Bex, trying to make light of the situation. Gauging the storms in Jared’s eyes, it was true.

  “How is that even possible? What does that mean?” I said, frightened.

  Jared looked away.

  Bex tugged lightly on my shirt. “Same dream?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I was angry…so angry that I took the book from them. It was in my hands.”

  “You’ve tried that before and your hands went right through it.” Jared said, his eyes on the floor.

  “Not this time. I was so damn mad that I screamed at them, and then grabbed the book. And then Gabe…he looked at me.”

  Jared knelt beside me, then. I touched his face. He was desperate for guidance from his father. “It wasn’t him,” I warned. “His eyes were solid black. Like Shax’s.”

  Bex shook his head. “How can that be? If it were d— them I would have known. The whole time you were stretched out…suspended…there were none.

  “Bex,” Jared warned.

  “Not a single one,” Bex continued, lost in thought. “They crowd Mom’s house more than that.”

  “None?” Jared asked. Bex nodded and Jared stood up again, and then began to pace. Finally, he spoke, “Something’s wrong.”

  “But you can feel them, too,” I said to Jared. His question to Bex puzzled me.

  “I can. Bex is more tuned-in to their presence — more so than any hybrid. His sensitivity to them rivals Samuel’s.”

  “Sometimes I can tell when they’re even thinking about coming around,” Bex added.

  Bex’s frown instantly alarmed me. My mind raced o
ver every second of the dream, trying to think of something that might help. I wasn’t sure why they were so disturbed, but for Bex in particular, uncertainty was not something they handled well.

  “Ars Notes something,” I said.

  Jared’s face transformed from worry to anger. “What?”

  I searched my memories again. “Gabe said ‘Ars Notary’ or ‘Ars Notes’…something like that.”

  Bex looked to his older brother. “Ars Notoria.”

  “That’s it!” I said. “What does it mean?”

  Jared sat on the edge of the bed and tenderly touched the sides of my jaw, looking into my eyes. “It means we’re going to have to get a Naissance de Demoniac. And not just any bible. Shax’s. My father is trying to tell us something.”

  My brows pushed together. “What are you saying?”

  “It’s not demons doing this to you,” Bex said, seeming vexed.

  “That leaves one thing,” Jared said.

  “You think it’s Gabe,” I said, horrified.

  Jared pulled me closer, and then leaned his cheek against my hair. “We need that book.”

  Chapter Four

  Exhaustion

  Coffee shop meetings stopped. Attending ball games ceased. My chair at study group had been filled due to my persistent absences. The only friend from school that I kept in contact with was Beth, and that was only because she was my assistant at Titan.

  Fielding her constant questions about my behavior was exasperating, but her help had become indispensable. The dreams were a nightly event, and the sleep deprivation wore on me so much that half of the time I needed Beth to remind me what day it was.

  The nightmares were also wearing on Jared, who left me with Bex every day to search for Shax’s bible. It didn’t take him long to figure out that the second he closed his eyes my nightmares would begin, and minutes later screams would echo throughout the loft.

  A new semester had begun, and still the dreams came. By Spring Break, Jared grew desperate. Everyday he sought Eli, asked Samuel for help, he’d even taunted Gabriel for an answer, and every time he came home frustrated and empty-handed.

  “Coffee?” Jared asked, his voice tired.