25. Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
It’s no longer snowing, the air around me is crisp and cool, the kind of fall day that entices one to enjoy hot cocoa with a friend while leaning into the weather, embracing Mother Nature rather than hiding from the brutality of the cold I’ve just left behind.
To my right, there’s a forest, I do believe.
The trees are towering giants swaying with a forceful wind.
The leaves and foliage are brighter here, too, sharper, the russet, scarlet, and amber colors are richer than any known to man, with more depth and clarity to each shade, a contrast to the rich blue of the ocean to my left.
Waves crash on a stunning beachfront before me, portions of the sandy landing are as pure white as a perfect cloud, while in contrast, others are as crystal blue as my eyes.
Micah steps to my side. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“How is this even possible?” I ask, offering him an incredulous look.
“The universe is a complex place, and there are many things the human eye doesn’t see, nor is it meant to.
The same can be said of the Nephilim, this place included.
No one comes here that I don’t allow to visit, and I don’t come here to socialize.
” His coat disappears, replaced by a black windbreaker.
“We have to walk five miles to reach our destination. Change clothes.”
It’s a demand that I use the magic he claims I own. To that, I unzip my coat and drop it to the ground. “Does that work?”
“You really are a stubborn smartass. Magic flourishes here. Think about what you want and make it happen. Shut your eyes.”
“This feels silly.”
“Do it anyway.”
I shut my eyes and imagine my favorite fall jacket from back home, almost smelling the scent of the candle I burn in my house that often clings to it, and to my utter shock, I know I’ve done it.
My lashes lift, and I glance down at myself, my hands patting my new attire that I’d created with my mind.
My gaze meets his in utter astonishment. “How did that happen?”
“I think that answer might be—”
“Me,” I supply, shellshocked. “I did it.”
His lips curve, and his eyes alight with amusement. “Yes. You did it.” He motions us forward. “Let’s get this walk over with.”
“Wait,” I say quickly, and when he turns back to me, I challenge him. “Can’t you just transport us? Or does that not work here?”
“Magic flourishes here,” he repeats.
My heart thunders in my ears with the implications of what he’s not saying, but it’s broadcasting loud and clear. “You’re afraid of the serpent in me. No. You’re not afraid of it, but you are afraid it’ll enter this place through me. And if that’s true, why am I even here?”
“I told you, Ember. Demons can’t come to Elysium.”
“Then why can’t you transport us?”
“For one thing, you need the endurance to manage your magic.”
I blanch. “Wait. Are you saying I’m out of shape? I work out. I’m in shape.”
“I’m saying, to properly manage powerful magic, you need balance and fitness that you do not have, but you will when we leave this place. You also need to know how to use it, and if I keep doing everything for you, why would you bother to learn?” He starts walking.
Indignant, I chase after him. “Everything you just said to me was ridiculously rude.”
He offers what amounts to a silent shrug. “If the truth is rude, then so be it.” He points toward the forest. “It’s an easier walk than the sand and offers shelter.”
Shelter? I silently demand. From what? “Are there creatures in there I need to know about?” I ask in earnest.
“None we can’t kill,” he promises, pulling ahead of me a few steps.
I dare to catch his arm, to touch him, and the awareness between us is wickedly present and instantly pulsing through every fiber of my being.
He stops walking, the tension curling in the muscles of his powerful body, telling me he feels what I feel as well, but I stay focused on my concern. “What kind of creatures, Micah?”
“The kind native to Elysium and nowhere else.”
“What kind—”
“You aren’t here to relax, Ember. You’re here to learn to harness your real self.”
I could declare this far from any real self I know as me, but what good would it do?
Isn’t that the problem in his eyes? Maybe even in mine, if I tell the truth.
I’ve never fully felt connected to anyone in my family but my grandfather.
As for why Micah is as hard as stone right now, I consider the idea that he can see what I cannot while in this place, and maybe my real self is not pretty at all.
I release his arm as if burned, and we stare at each other, and he’s so damn unreadable it’s unnerving.
What am I? I know he knows, and I yearn to demand answers, but I’ve come to understand him well enough to know nothing is so simple with him.
He’ll likely simply challenge me to hop in his head, and that’s not a feasible answer.
I start walking. This time, he falls into step with me but doesn’t speak.
A full minute later, we enter the forest, the light above largely blocked out by the towering trees, only slivers illuminating our path, which is eerily quiet, even our footsteps are without sound.
It’s as if the trees suffocate the sound before it reaches realization.
It’s freakish and unnerving, as are the vines of vibrant blues, greens, and oranges that frame our path and cluster about the trees.
The air echoes with their silent screams, warning me of the secrets of the forest without so much as a rustle of leaves or limbs.
I tell myself it’s my imagination working overtime, fear taking root in the soil underfoot.
For what must be half an hour, we travel in silence, and the hum of the vines dims as the chatter of my own mind grows louder, stirring up urgent questions that push me to test the volume of my own voice in the forest. “Oliver is okay, right?”
He halts and rotates to face me, a tree at his back with a trunk several feet wide, gold seams I liken to veins glowing around the lower few feet.
“Why are you asking me about Oliver?” he demands softly, and while his voice is low, there’s a crack in the depths that snaps my attention from the glow of the tree to the amber glow in the blue of his eyes.
A part of me wonders if the veins warned me of the danger Micah represents and what he will do to me if I prove to be more demon than angel.
But whatever the case, this is his land, his world, and I’m at his mercy should he suddenly decide he doesn’t trust me.
On some level, I respect him for not hopping inside my head and finding what he seeks in me on his own.
I swallow roughly, bile threatening to form, and for a good reason.
I’m questioning everything and everyone inside the life I’d known as my own until a few days ago.
“He came to see me right before you saved me and brought a detective with him who wanted to talk about additional murders he felt Jeremy committed.”
“And?” he prods when I take a breath.
“When I shook his hand, his eyes glowed yellow. He was the demon you pulled off of me in the kitchen. I tried to stop Oliver from leaving with him, but what was I going to say that wasn’t going to make him think I was crazy? But now I’m wondering why a demon allowed him to live.”
Micah’s lips press together. “He either believed him to be a stupid human that might be useful in the future, or he’s working with Jeremy.”
“I don’t think he’s working with them, but will they…could they use him against me?”
“I already have someone looking after him.” With that, he starts walking again, and his energy is as wicked as lightning ripping through a vicious thunderstorm.
I double-step and fall into pace with him. “I went on a date with him one time. It went horribly, and we had no chemistry at all.”
“I don’t need to know this, Ember.”
“I want to tell you, though, if you’d just jump in my head and find out for yourself, all the distrust between us would slide away.
” I pause for his input, but he says nothing, and I continue onward.
“Oliver has an arrogance problem—a bit like someone else I know. He took me on a date and didn’t ask what I like or don’t like.
It was seafood—fish with the head on and eyes intact.
He’s lucky I even allowed a friendship to form after that.
And, come to think of it, I’m not sure my extreme negative reaction says much about where my hunting skills are headed.
” Mountain terrain begins to take form, and as my gaze lifts to the horizon, I note the summer green peaks and valleys before us that I would not call welcoming. “Where exactly are we going?”
“To my home,” he replies. “Why did you?”
“Your home? And why did I what?”
“Allow him to become your friend,” he says, ignoring my question about this being his home. I open my mouth to say as much, but considering I’ve taken us to a double-whammy topic of Oliver and demons, I decide better. This is perhaps more of a tit-for-tat situation.
In other words, me first, offering up my position on Oliver.
“He was persistent, and he has kind eyes that, thankfully, are not yellow. And as it was, he turned out to be a loyal person as well. Honestly, it seems he might be the only loyal person in my life. It would destroy me to find out otherwise.”
He once again says nothing. Not one single word, and at this point, I’m distracted by the climb up a mountainside, and if I weren’t huffing and puffing so much, I’d ask him about Celine.
Apparently, I’m too busy proving I need the exercise I swore I didn’t need to find out about his ex-love interest, and I doubt he’d tell me about her anyway, at least not in his present state of grumpiness.
We halt at a wild running stream that glows blue, the water rough, soundlessly crashing off the rocks east and west, bubbling with the force. I turn toward Micah to ask how we cross, and he fades and reappears on the other side, motioning to me with the fingers of one hand.
“Come to me.”
My heart races wildly with the idea that I’m over here and he’s over there, and the only way to remedy the problem is magic I don’t even believe I wield, at least not with the powers he thinks I hold. “Micah, please—”
“Behind you!” he shouts, and with a leap of my pulse, I whirl around to find what looks like a giant white beast charging at me.