Chapter 23
Zayne
Get a grip, man, I say to myself. But fuck, Myssa being dressed in barely anything was way too much.
How am I going to do this and keep my hands to myself?
I don’t think I can. I stand in the kitchen, leaning over and gripping the counter.
She has a vice grip on me. She’s filling this void inside, and her light shines so bright, I can’t help but hold on to every second she gives me.
It’s been so fucking long, it feels like decades have passed.
It’s been so long since I’ve felt—anything. Not since…
The memory invades my mind.
The chrome shimmering in his irises fades until they snuff out altogether. The screams echo through the walls, and it’s impossible to decipher who is who’s. The searing pain with each squeeze as his eyes turned a shade of dark amber, glowing like the night sky above.
I close my eyes and push away from the counter. I shake my head, forcing the thoughts at bay. I turn to open the cabinet and grab two plates before setting them on the counter.
Myssa
Walking down the stairs, I find Zayne standing at the counter of his kitchen, putting slices of pizza on the plates. Looking out the window, the Chicago buildings are casting shadows throughout the streets as the sun starts setting.
I walk around the other side of the counter to the fridge and see what Zayne has for drinks.
“Do you want a beer or water?” I ask.
“Beer, please.”
I pull one out along with a bottled water and follow him into the living room.
He sits on the couch, clearly giving me enough room to join him.
I don’t trust myself that close, though, and I have some questions I want to ask him.
I move around to the opposite side of the coffee table, grabbing a throw pillow from the couch as I pass it, and I put it on the ground before I sit.
“You can sit on the couch. I don’t bite.” He smirks.
“I prefer to sit here.” I shrug. I mean, it’s not a lie. We never sat on the couch at home. Nik and I would sit on pillows and eat at the coffee table all the time. It was just our thing, and the thought brings back memories.
“You ok, Myssa?” he asks, pulling me out before I fall too deep into that thought.
“Yeah, so how does this whole thing work?” I ask as I take a bite of my pizza.
“What do you mean?”
“This shifting through the frequency,” I say, waving my arm around aimlessly. “The first time it happened to me was at the club, and I honestly thought I was having a nervous breakdown,” I say.
“Have you ever noticed how much music impacts you? Your mood? In the depths of who you are, your soul? Music is created using different vibrations in a frequency of sound, and some heighten you more than others.” He pauses, looking around, and gets up to go into the kitchen.
“Some can inspire writing, art, and they can help you become calm, help motivate you, get you through a tough time, even make you mad or sad.”
“Yeah,” I say as I watch him grab some napkins out of the pantry. Walking back, he continues.
“Music is universal. It also helps some people tap into their inner soul to help those with psychic abilities. It imbues our souls with more meaning to help nourish what we need it for.”
He puts the napkins between us, and I grab one and wipe my mouth.
“You gravitate towards industrial and metal, right?”
I cock an eyebrow at him and deadpan. “You’ve seen my wardrobe. What do you think?”
He chuckles. “Fair enough, so that music is created with a specific rhythm in the frequency that helps heighten our emotions, helping us shift easily.”
I take a minute to eat my pizza, pondering on what he has said so far.
It makes sense. I was listening to music every time I’ve had an encounter with Jasper at home, or I was here at the club like when I saw Lily.
Thinking back to our conversation earlier, I ask, “You said I was special. What makes you say that?”
He sits back and finishes his last bite before opening his beer. After taking a few swigs, he sets it down, clearly taking a moment to figure out what to say.
I don’t think I’m special. Yes, this is all new, and I get that. Aside from Jasper’s constant threats and holding my sister, there’s nothing really special about me.
“I told you before that Frequency was built on ley lines?”
I nod.
“When you shifted, we felt it. The ripple effect in the frequency was so strong. It’s nothing like anything Knox and I have experienced before.”
I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.
Something in his words sets off this vibration inside of me.
As if what has been sitting dormant is alive and confirming what he is saying.
I shake it off, though. It’s not true. I am just like them, hell, I’m still wrapping my head around that.
“Is there a way to stop myself from going there? I know there have been a few times I’ve gone there when I didn’t want to,” I ask.
He grabs his empty plate and holds his hand out for mine as he stands and then goes to put the plates in the sink.
“You can take control when the urge from the pull comes.”
“Ha,” I quip. “Easier said that done.”
“Yeah, I get that, it wasn’t easy for us at first, either.” He sits back down on the couch.
“You have to remember; this is all controlled by your emotions tied in with the frequency around you. Meditation, and keeping yourself calm, is key. Keeping yourself grounded with a thought or memory can help you tamp down the urge, or it can help you to get back when you find yourself there when you weren’t in control. ” He picks his beer back up.
This actually makes sense. Those few times I found myself around Jasper, it was the memories that had brought me back. I nod my head in understanding.
There’s one thing that’s been bugging me. We never got to deep dive in, and I decided to revisit it. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch. I watch him as he looks out the window, deep in his own thoughts.
“Tell me more about Jonathan?” I ask softly.
His eyes close, and an immediate sigh releases from his lips. As if he’d anticipated this conversation was coming. He stands up with his beer in hand and walks to the window, and I wait patiently as I watch him, contemplating what he’s going to say.
“Jonathan, much like you, ended up at the wrong place, the wrong time. Jasper, in a state of paranoia, was there when Jonathan shifted for the first time in Aetheriem. In his despair, he ripped Jonathan’s soul out of his body, leaving only a tether to keep him alive.”
I gasp. This just proves that Jasper will go to any lengths to get what he wants.
“Oh my God, that’s terrible.” I stand and walk over to him. Everything screams for me to soothe his frustration. But I hesitate to touch him.
“Jess feels there’s something Jasper wants that only Jonathan can provide. It’s why he finds him so valuable. We’re still trying to figure out what that is, though,” he says.
We both stand there for a moment, staring at the sunset, and its beautiful hues of orange, purple, and red. I don’t press any further; clearly this is a touchy subject, and perhaps Jonathan is someone he knew. I watch him as he seems lost in his thoughts.
“He told me he is using me for bait,” I say.
These words that should make me panic—make me terrified of what’s to come—don’t. All I can feel is this sense of calm, and I don’t know where it’s coming from. Maybe it’s knowing that Zayne wants to protect me, that I have people that are willing to help me.
His lingering stare bores a hole right through me, like he can see deep inside of me. My nerves start to get the better of me, and I just begin to ramble.
“It’s funny, I never crossed over until I came to Frequency, and even then, Jasper wasn’t the first person I saw.”
“What do you mean, not the first person?” He looks at me quizzically, and my cheeks redden. I pull my phone out of my pocket and check the time.
“Damn, it’s late already. I promised Vix I’d be at the club early. I have to get ready.” I start to walk away.
“Myssa, wait,” he says.
“Thanks for dinner and the talk,” I say nervously, running up the stairs.