Heather Terrell - Eternity (v5)

I heard footsteps behind me, but didn’t make much of them at first. Then I started to notice that the footsteps were matching my stride. So I took an unexpected sharp left turn as a test. The person fol owed.

I was scared. What if it was Ezekiel or Michael? I could handle pretty much anyone else. I pivoted and started running in the other direction. I could hear the person gaining on me. I had no choice. I had to fly.

Almost instantaneously, my back expanded, and my body streamlined for flight. My feet had just started to levitate, when I felt a hand pul at my foot. I struggled to kick it off, but the person was strong. I fel down to the ground on top of my pursuer.

“El ie, it’s me. It’s Michael,” he said, as if that was supposed to be a comfort.

I shoved away his outstretched hand, and pushed myself off him and onto the hard concrete of the pathway. “I can see that. Why would I want to see you?”

“You have every right to be furious with me, El ie. But it’s me—the real Michael.” He looked at me with those familiar green eyes, and it did seem as though my Michael stared out through them. But how could I be sure?

“I thought I went to Ransom Beach with the real Michael. But unfortunately, it was Ezekiel’s underling.”

Very, very gently, he reached for me. Even though it seemed a gesture of comfort, I pul ed away. It would take a lot more convincing before I’d let him touch me. “I understand, El ie. I didn’t like what I became either. Do you know how scary it is to watch yourself say and do things you’d never imagine, and be unable to stop?”

From witnessing the transformation of Professor McMaster, I knew that Michael’s words were entirely possible. I wanted it to be true. But I stil didn’t trust him. After al , he’d seemed like my Michael when we flew down the cliff to Ransom Beach—right into Ezekiel’s waiting arms. Ezekiel must have turned him the night before.

I crossed my arms, and gave him a thorough once-over. No glazed eyes, no deadened speech, but stil , I wasn’t certain. “How did you change back to yourself?”

“Last night, your parents came over to my house—to talk to my parents. It was real y late, and they didn’t know I was stil awake. So I eavesdropped on them. For some reason, hearing them talk about you snapped the connection between me and Ezekiel.”

I wanted to know what my parents had said, but assessing Michael’s truthfulness was far more critical just now.

“If you aren’t aligned with Ezekiel anymore, why are you here in Boston with him?” I asked the obvious question.

“I knew Ezekiel would find you. So I snuck out of the house and cal ed to him—pretending that I was stil in his sway. Though it was quite a trick making sure I didn’t come into physical contact with him, so he wouldn’t discover the truth. He kept saying we should hold off until you reached out to us, but I knew that he’d try to find you. He just couldn’t stay away from you.”

“Why aren’t you with him right now?”

“I knew Ezekiel wanted to meet with that professor you found—to find out what he knew and what he told you. When he went into the professor’s office, I told him that I would meet him outside afterward; Ezekiel didn’t want me in there anyway. That was my opportunity to break from him and track you down.”

“Why did he let me leave the professor’s office?”

“Ezekiel probably wanted to finish what he started—either getting information from the professor or turning him into one of his minions. I think he liked the irony of having a vampire scholar in his ranks. Anyway, he can find us again whenever he wants us.”

“How does he track us?” This question figured prominently on my big list. I needed to know how Ezekiel could find me, so I could figure out to hide from him.

“Once I started using my powers, I became like a blip on a radar screen to him, as he described it. He and I are somehow linked through our blood. That’s what he told me, anyway.”

Michael had only answered one-half of my question—the part about him. “But that doesn’t explain how he tracks me.”

He averted his eyes before responding. “You have my blood in your veins. So he can track you, too.”

I felt sick. There was nowhere to hide from Ezekiel because I’d tasted Michael’s blood and now it ran in my veins? No wonder Michael didn’t want to look me in the face when he delivered that piece of news. “Great.”

Michael paused and then pleaded with me. “Please, El ie. Give me another chance.”

I hesitated. I wanted to believe Michael, and it sickened me to think that Ezekiel had put him up to this little reunion. I didn’t want to go on this crazy, scary journey al by myself. But after everything I’d been through, I couldn’t believe him. Not without proof.

I tightened my crossed arms. “How can I be sure you’re tel ing the truth, Michael?”

“There is only one way to know for certain,” he said.

Michael was right. There was only one way.

This was no gentle kiss. This was no soft exchange of tongue and teeth. Michael didn’t deserve any tenderness or affection. I was mad at him for his betrayal, whether or not it was consciously done. I leaned over and bit him. Hard. Like a vampire.

Chapter Forty-one

Michael’s blood rushed into my mouth. I staggered from the force of its flow and the power of its images. I’d never known his blood to have such strength, but then I’d never procured it by violent means before.

Looking through Michael’s eyes, I stood on the second floor landing of his house. A tal , elegantly curved grandfather clock stood next to me, and its hands met at twelve. I peered down the curved staircase and caught the tiniest glimpse of my parents and his parents in the entryway. They were talking in hushed tones—presumably so as not to awaken Michael—but I could hear them if I strained and ignored the ticking. Interestingly, though, the scene looked filmy, as if Michael’s vision was hazy.

“What is it, Hananel? You look distraught,” Michael’s mom asked.

“El speth is gone.” My own eyes wel ed up with tears at the despair in my usual y unflappable mother’s voice.

“What do you mean ‘gone’?” She sounded alarmed.

“I mean that she was supposed to be home by five, after she had coffee with her friend, Ruth. I’d given El speth a special exemption from her grounding to meet with Ruth, since their friendship had been strained lately—” My mom’s voice broke, and I saw my dad put his arm around her shoulder as she cried.

“It’s al right, Hananel. What happened?” Michael’s mom prompted her.

“El speth didn’t come home. I waited until six to contact Ruth, who claimed to be confused because she had dropped El speth at our house. But Daniel and I didn’t believe her, so we asked Ruth to come over. She was visibly nervous when she arrived; obviously she knew something. At first, she clung to her original story that she had brought El speth home. We used the vestiges of our skil s to find out more, but al Ruth knew was that El speth had had some kind of fight with Michael. So, at El speth’s insistence, Ruth took her to the train station. Ruth didn’t know where El speth planned to go.” Silently, I cheered on Ruth for keeping quiet about the flying. Even though my parents already knew about it, of course.

“But you’re afraid that it’s more than a teenage fight? You think that she left for other reasons?” Michael’s mom asked.

“Yes, Sariel,” my dad answered. “We talked to El speth last night. We read her the passage about the Nephilim and—”

“What?” Michael’s dad practical y yel ed.

“Keep your voice down, Armaros,” Michael’s mom warned. Sariel? Armaros? Hadn’t I seen those names in the Book of Enoch? Michael’s parents must be “good” fal en angels too, as I’d suspected.