through my head. They were a little girl’s dreams full of vivid colors and a magnificent castle. “She fought horrible creatures to protect humans…” I swallowed hard. Protect humans. Reality colliding with make-believe.
The story never changed. The young woman fled to protect her baby from an evil that could destroy the entire world. But because the baby was hidden, the world stayed safe. The memory warmed me, yet it ached at the same time. I longed for what could’ve been. A life with my mother in it.
Would she have told me, as I got older? I’d never know. She died shortly after that memory. There was a connection between her tales and what the Sentinels had said in Paris, though; I was sure of it. I just had to figure it out, starting with the ball of light.
I sighed and turned on the bedside lamp. Arik had spoken one word to create the light. The second time the light had appeared on my palm, I was ten and practicing my Italian, so it made sense the word was in Italian.
My eyes burned as I stared at the brightness coming from my lamp, just as I’d stared at Nana’s lamp when I was ten. “Light. Illuminare.” I rattled off the words I had been practicing that day. “Lampada. Lume. Luce—”
The flesh on my palm warmed. Little flickers of light zapped across it and then disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared. I bounced a little on my bed with excitement, and I tried again. “Luce.”
Nothing happened.
I tried several more times.
Still nothing.
Frustrated, I turned off the lamp and flung myself back against the pillows. The hot, humid night thickened the room, making my skin clammy. I kicked the covers off and rolled to my side.
Curling up under my covers, I was vaguely aware of every noise around me: the tick tock of my alarm, the rustle of leaves on the tree outside, the clanky sway of the fire escape. Through my slotted eyelids, the black pitch of Saturday night turned into the gray light of Sunday morning. A shadow moved across the grayness and I bolted up from my pillows.
A firm hand landed on my mouth, quieting my scream. “Hush,” Arik said.
Relieved it was him and not some crazed killer, I exhaled. My breath punching through his fingers sounded like a deflating balloon. “Okay, you can let go now.” The words came out muffled against his palm .
He removed his hand and plopped down beside me. I scooted up against the headboard, pulling down the hem of my black cami to cover my stomach. Surprised to see him in street clothes, I took a second glance at the jeans and black T-shirt hugging his body nicely.
“How’s the leg?” He gave me a crooked smile, his gaze dropping to my chest.
“Did you just check out my boobs?” I whispered. Please say yes.
“No.” He smirked. “Okay, yes. I am a guy.”
That you are. I yanked the covers up to my chin and suppressed a smile.
Cleo hissed at Arik and dropped from the bed. “Way to serve and protect,” I said with a laugh. “You could at least scratch his eyes out or something.” She let out a protesting mew and hopped onto my desk chair, staring at Arik suspiciously.
His dimples deepened. “Cats have their own agendas, and they don’t include their slaves.”
“I’m not her…oh, never mind. What are you doing here, anyway? Pop will kill you if he catches you in my room. Wait. How did you get in?”
“I used the ladder.”
“You mean the fire escape?”
“You say it’s an escape. I think entry.” The way he spoke with that accent and showed that dimply smile, sent goose bumps across my skin. “How are you faring?”
“How do you think I’m faring? I’m terrified. I can’t sleep or eat.”
“You were sleeping when I got here.”
Was I? Maybe. Barely?
We sat there staring at each other, neither of us saying a word. I lowered my gaze; his eyes on me were so unnerving. I didn’t do silence well, so I searched for something to say. Our meeting in the Athenæum came to me. He’d quoted my favorite book. “So you’ve read The Secret Garden?”
“Yes,” he said. “Several times.”
I glanced up. “Really?”
“You sound surprised.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Because I am.”
“What’s your favorite part in the book?” he asked.
My favorite part? Were we really discussing a book? I’d never had a conversation like this with a guy before. “Um, I’d have to say the one where Mary