Vision (13 page)

My family and friends humbly nodded, agreeing
to my terms for moving forward. “Good. Now, where do we go from
here? Can I even go to school any more?”

Colin answered. “Yes, most definitely. We
will be providing additional security at the school however; you
can’t leave Stuart’s side I’m afraid.” He smiled to let us know he
was in on his own joke.

I smirked. “Can I pee alone?”

Everyone laughed. Natasha responded with a
grin. “Only if you want to, dear.” Her eyes twinkled, and she gave
me a hug.

I left with the Brown’s but it was strange
knowing my parents were just a few blocks away for the week –
unexpected but nice. There was still so much to talk about, but I
was left speechless after leaving the Fairchild’s. Stuart showed up
minutes later, asking if he could hang out with people his age.

“You’re way too old for me now, Fairchild. I
need to rethink this…” I couldn’t resist teasing, there was so much
potential for jokes about a 280-year-old man. But he was kissing me
before I finished talking again.

“Okay, now it’s getting disgusting,” Sienna
gently shoved us as she passed.

The three of us sat on the Brown sofa in
front of the television after Patrice and Henry went to bed.

Stuart had zoned with the remote, doing the
thing guys do when they flick through every last channel stopping
nowhere in particular– split second images their own brand of
entertainment. It made me happy to know he still resembled a
typical guy in that regard, and then realized he had lived in times
with no technology whatsoever.

“Sienna?” It seemed like ages since we sat
and talked.

She considered me with her huge, droopy eyes
tired from the day. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” I said.

She shook her head once, wondering what the
conversation was about. “For…?”

“Just being…you. You’re probably my best
friend. No, scratch that. You are definitely my best friend.”

“Damn straight,” she said, “And don’t forget
it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Sienna fell asleep on the sofa under a peach
chemise blanket, curled into a tiny, petite ball. Stuart placed the
remote on the table and turned to me, leaning in for a soft
kiss…and another…and another.

Uh, Fairchild, time out for your
interrogation. How did you find me on Colonsay? What did you hear -
sense?

His eyes lit up, and he shifted to face
me.

I heard you, love. Long distance. It was
amazing. I felt my body transforming, stretching, hardening,
growing masses of new parts even though my physical appearance
stayed the same. There was no thought required, and I was there in
an instant.

Seriously. No airplanes, buses…

No public transportation was involved. I
was here in Cambridge. The sense of danger to your life was
suddenly overwhelming. Although I had been on high alert, not
wanting to violate your requested “space”, he used air quotes and
paused for effect, I didn’t see anything specific until he arrived
on the island, he being Jasper. It required no thought, it just
happened. I passed through cold winds and ice as I travelled.
Sounds blazed through me so fast they blended together into one low
hum. Within moments I scooped you from the air. Afterwards, of
course, I’m exhausted but what a rush. What a
beautiful
buzz, like kissing you…

Show me. C’mon upstairs.

He thought inviting him upstairs was code for
something else, until we stood at the open window inviting chilly
winter air into the room.

Show me how you move. Over there. Next door.
The Tanner house. Take me to the roof.

Are you mad? They’ll think Saint Nick has
arrived.

Mr. Tanner lives alone and is hard of
hearing.

I’m not sure how this works yet, if I can do
it at will.

Ah yes, it works when I’m in danger…

Indeed.

Well, then.

I hurled myself over the frame and out the
two-story window. There wasn’t far to fall, and of course if I was
truly immortal nothing would happen, but Stuart wouldn’t allow
experimentation. Sure enough, his arms were around me from behind
while we gently pushed through the air, moving parallel then
gradually up in a whisk of flight until we touched down soundlessly
on the Tanner roof.

Wow. That was…wild. I laughed,
breathless.

You are maddening, love. Don’t experiment
again.

We hugged each other tight standing on the
Tanner roof, our heart rates escalated from adrenaline. I shifted
so the front of our bodies pressed together. Good job Fairchild. I
wanted to take you for a test run. One can’t claim to be a Guardian
without proof.

So scooping you out of the air as your
fell from a cliff headed for thrashing, icy waters wasn’t
enough?
He nibbled my chin.

I wanted to be alert this time.

He pulled me tighter against his rock hard
body, his arms enveloping me like an octopus. I wanted to stay
there, tucked into him and not ask more questions that only served
to confuse me.

“Happy?” He whispered.

I was beyond happy, delirious maybe? “Very.
But I don’t feel immortal. How am I supposed to feel?”

“You won’t feel anything, but you won’t age.”
His eyes never left my face even as raindrops tried to separate
us.

I was puzzled. “But people age. It’s science.
There’s no way around it. I don’t understand.”

“It does defy science and logic.” He pondered
for a moment. “From what I understand, and based on what Abbey
said, George granted eternal life to us, keeping me at this age so
you would be…attracted to me when we finally met. You will stop
aging now too because, well, we’re together now. Your wayward soul
has finally landed. That was the deal.” One side of his mouth
pulled upward as he swept my hair away on one side of my neck,
exposing my skin to his kisses.

He distracted me again, and I tried to think
about what he said but decided I was utterly and completely spent.
“I’m cold, Fairchild. Let’s go back.”

He pulled me closer as the rain came rushing
down then swept us off the roof over to some thick spruce trees for
shelter.

Warn me before you do that, please. Hey, I
was thinking…we can never stay in one place forever. People will
wonder why we don’t grow old.

I don’t think that will be a problem.

Why?

Because from what I understand, we will spend
eternity moving from place to place, in battle with Bane with only
brief glimpses of peace in between, unless we manage to destroy
their infrastructure.

I figured there would be a catch to this
eternal life, everlasting love business. “Okay,” I said, “Well,
let’s just get through the holidays first.”

The Land of Fey was missing the Fairchild
house. The stunning Tudor sat majestically on Trumpington Road,
selfishly stealing attention from the other homes. White twinkling
holiday lights formed perfect architectural outlines of the frame,
and shaped the tall evergreen in their front yard.

The inside was decorated with holiday
precision. Unlike the carefree disarray of decorations at the
Brown’s, a glitter hodge-podge of dime store trinkets thrown
everywhere, this was something from Architectural Digest. A rush of
warmth charged at you upon entering.

“Happy Christmas!” Natasha was dressed in a
flowing green dress, looking like a magical queen who grants
wishes. Colin wore a Santa hat and was in charge of drinks.
Presents overflowed under the tree and the kitchen smelled of
Moroccan heaven. Natasha was part Moroccan with the ancestral link
to Stuart. Stuart told me his “rebirth” father was Moroccan and his
mother was French, and he still had vivid memories of the food
there, something Natasha has mastered for him.

The scene was a holiday fantasy far removed
from anything that ever happened at the Stone’s. Dad and Mom seem
to fit right in though, and it made me happy to be together. Best
of all my mommy hatred was subsiding. Maybe it was the holiday
spirit, but more likely from our now unbreakable common bond to a
world few knew about or could ever understand. We were left to
force ourselves into some sort of reconciliation – fake it ‘till we
make it into whatever mother-daughter relationship sprung from this
bizarre life.

And there were more charms as gifts, this
time given in full disclosure, even though it was a conspired group
plan.

A MacPhie family crest from Mom and Dad, a
Scorpion from Natasha and Colin for my astrological delineation, a
hand-carved “BFF” from Sienna, a four-leaf clover from Patrice and
Henry – Henry was Irish and believed in the power of good luck, and
from Stuart a diamond-encrusted angel.

But I got you nothing, I sent to him.

Love, you gave me everything.

He added the charms to my bracelet as they
were opened.

My bracelet was filling up.

As was my life, as Dad predicted.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The holidays passed and reality returned.

Bad people wanted me dead.

Mom gave me a special phone with an
untraceable number directly to her I was not to use for any other
purpose. With the promise to keep me up to date on a regular basis
and answer any questions that arose, we parted ways leaving me with
my new support unit and Guardian.

Before Mom left, she and Colin told us about
Bane plots StoneWall diverted – pretty impressive stuff, and who
else had a Mom in this line of work? They had emphasized, however,
Bane were weapons rich and numbers strong – outnumbering Clear in
every section of the world. And while there were great advantages
to outthinking the enemy, Colin compared it to playing Whack-a-Mole
– hit one on the head and more pop up.

And bad people wanted me dead.

Although Mom developed another theory,
thinking Bane may want to use my talent to push their purpose
forward before actually killing me. “Jasper could have and didn’t
kill you on Colonsay, and that makes me wonder,” she had said, “But
only time would tell.”

“Well luckily I have plenty of time then,” I
replied. When she didn’t respond, I clarified, “You know the
immortal advantage? Never mind.”

Colin promised security at Sixth would be
imperceptible. He also created a perimeter around the Brown’s
placing twenty-four hour watch on the house. My apologies to the
Brown’s for the extreme inconvenience of ‘me’ were heartfelt, but
met with ‘nonsense’ and ‘bollocks’ from Patrice and Henry and they
graciously accepted the new normal of life. Their gravitas was
astonishing.

Stuart didn’t leave my side and he let his
invisible shield cover Sienna. Mom had whispered into his ear that
Sienna needed to be watched closely, as Bane were notorious for
hostage taking and didn’t blink an eye over collateral damage. He
was to behave like Secret Service at all times, on high alert,
scanning surroundings like a tracking hound. I suppose it would
have been annoying being glued to the hip of anyone else, but this
was Stuart, and I adored his hips. The thought of Sienna in danger,
however, made me furious.

Soon the mundane returned to our daily
routine, and eventually we let our guard down a little without
completely forgetting I was prey. There were no sedan sightings or
notes, so we relaxed into the spring session.

He resumed his nightly visits after everyone
fell asleep, engulfing me in his arms – his kisses and caresses
neutralizing the terror that always gripped the hollow of my chest.
When he left later in the night, when I was alone again, the dread
returned to wash over me despite the extra security and protective
measures in place. To need someone so much was an adjustment for my
formerly independent spirit, but the thought of life without him
was unbearable now and I was in no position to subvert.

Then one night after Stuart left, when I was
in a deep sleep, someone else came to visit.

Clears can’t always predict the future. We
read minds, minds that are unblocked. But if there are those who do
not wish to be read – there is little to do.

And if someone is quiet enough, slipping
through darkness unseen, convincing the security outside the
Brown’s they were the replacement night shift – there is little to
do.

Jasper Branson stood over my bed, his stealth
presence waking me only because of the violent energy exuding from
his controlled heartbeats, the unmistakable image of Andre in
twenty-five years. The man from the island, now pointing a gun at
my head.

My eyes opened to meet his, gleaming with
evil deeds and plans for my future. He was blocked – something Mom
had told me Bane perfected before moving into the ranks of
fighters.

And my Guardian was missing, although I
suspected he would pick up on Jasper’s presence any moment.

If not, this was the end.

His sinister grin spoke of chaos and
doom.

This I knew without reading a thought in his
head.

Having a gun pointed at you, knowing in a
split second your life could end is nothing like you see in movies.
Actors couldn’t act well enough to convey what happens to you
inside, the paralysis, the terror, and the resignation.

“Layla. So nice to see you.” The aristocratic
Shakespearean theatrical inflexions dripped with subtle sarcasm.
“Sorry about the close-call on the island. No harm, no foul?” He
wasn’t waiting for a response, just pausing for dramatic effect. “I
promise I only wanted to chat. Misunderstandings can be so
inconvenient.”

In order to avoid him hearing my voice
tremble I pushed out words in a strong whisper, relying on the rush
of air to hold my vocal chords in place. “Get out now.” I had
already jumped to my feet, ready to assume a defensive posture
before being slaughtered.

The promise of war in his eyes advised me to
sit but I remained unmoving, my toes gripping the hardwood floor to
hold steady.