Angelic (Book 2)

Three

"Ellie!"

My eyes squeezed shut. The air was knocked from Ryan's chest as he fell hard onto his back. I could feel it. The exhalation seemed to enter my bloodstream and flow through me. I dropped to my knees, clamping my hands over my ears, a deafening buzzing sound filling my skull. The air around me seemed to crackle. That hadn't happened before.

"Ellie?"

I glanced up. Ryan was there, looking concerned, still catching his breath. "Are you okay?" he asked.

The words I could make out, but only barely. They sounded as if spoken miles away through hazy water.

"Ellie?"

Clearer. It was clearer that time.

Everybody was staring at me with wide eyes. Ryan held his hands out, palms facing me, a harmless stance that offered no ill intent.

Your friends, Ellie. They're only trying to help you.

Calm. Calm down.

I focused on my breaths and gathered myself. An apology. That was what I owed to everybody, especially Ryan, to ease the stricken look on his face.

But all I did was jump up and run inside, stomach clenching painfully, the annoying buzzing sound lingering in my ears.

~*~

The smell of lasagna permeated the house. I emerged at around dinnertime, a little embarrassed about earlier, but if anybody noticed they didn't say anything. In fact, they continued on like it hadn't happened, which I was grateful for.

Blake dished out the delectable food onto everybody's plates, and I accepted mine with a meager smile.

The first few minutes were spent eating in silence, which for once was actually semi-awkward. Awkward enough that even I could feel it in the air.

"So," Ryan began, stabbing a noodle with his fork. "Blake and I have been looking at that message Angel left you."

This piqued my attention. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I don't want to say it's a death threat . . . well, actually, I guess I do, because it is. Just not toward you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shoved a forkful of noodles in his mouth, chewed thoughtfully, and swallowed. "She writes about the bell tolling at nine. That has horrible, daunting death written all over it, am I right?"

I frowned in confusion. "I don't understand."

His smile drooped. "Right." He stabbed another noodle. "Anyway, where 'old meets new' is this storehouse in Denver, from like the 1800s that was falling apart, and construction crews only got through remodeling half of it before the contract was terminated."

A shiver ran down my spine. "Okay."

"We're not yet sure about the 'past meets present' bit. Can't be good, though, whatever it is."

Of course it couldn't.

My appetite-never substantial to begin with-all but faded away. "Hey, Ryan?"

""Sup?"

"I want to try again."

He fell silent, so I glanced up, meeting his eyes. "You want to what?"

"Try again," I repeated, quieter. "Please? I'm sorry I freaked out, I promise that won't happen again. I just . . ."

"It's okay, Ellie," Blake chipped in, casting Ryan a pointed look. "We shouldn't have pushed you like that."