Chapter Four (Julian)
I woke up that night to the sound of someone playing the piano.
I was groggy and annoyed at the sound until I recognized it and let my head plop back down onto the pillow of the pull out bed in the living room. I looked at Adam, who was deep asleep. In fact, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the piano music was keeping him asleep. I lifted my head, squinting into the darkness to see someone sitting at the piano.
I slowly sat up and crawled out of bed, pausing to shiver, missing the warmth of the blankets and quilts that Adam and I were using. I walked across the living room, poking my head in to see if it was one of my parents, but much to my surprise, Newell was sitting at the piano, his fingers flying over the keys as he occasionally paused to take a sip of blood wine that was sitting in a tall bottle. I hesitated, glancing around and wondering for a moment if it were a dream before I turned back to Newell, who hadn't seemed to notice me. I leaned against the door frame tiredly, listening to the way his fingers struck the keys to Greensleeves.
It was a pretty simple piece. It was one of the first things I had learned to play, but for some reason, the way Newell played it made it sound more complex. The way he hit the keys and held on the pedal for a moment before dragging on, making the song eerily slow.
"Greensleeves." I said aloud. Newell paused for a moment, his shoulders obviously stiffening before he scoffed and continued to play.
"Of course. I should have figured you were the musically inclined of the family."
"Are you trying to insult me?"
"Not sure. Stop talking." Newell answered flatly and continued to play. I rolled my eyes, then walked in, peering over Newell to watch him play. He struck a key sharply, like he was warning me to back off, but instead, I plopped onto the bench beside him, placing my hands on the keys and hitting a few of them to match with Newell's. He hesitated for a split second before he played.
Now this would be a weird story to tell people.
I woke up in the middle of the night and played the piano with a midget terrorist.
It sounded like a bad set up for a joke. I almost laughed at myself, but Newell's expression was too serious for me to think of anything really funny. The way he focused on the keys like he wanted to beat the living shit out of them, and yet he added just the right amount of pressure to each key.
"Didn't know you knew piano." I said at last. Newell tsked, never once tearing his gaze away as he reached for the bottle, tipping his head back and taking a heavy gulp before placing it back down, continuing the gentle keys, even while I had paused to talk before I picked back up again.
"I was raised to play many instruments. Piano was the only one I could stand." He replied dryly, searching the keys as he played them. For a moment, I wondered if he was drunk. I knew blood wine was far heavier than regular human alcohol, especially with the blood type that was mingled with it. My brother could barely handle a couple sips without getting dead drunk. I wasn't too fond of it either. And the fact that someone like Newell could handle half a bottle without dying was amazing.
"What other instruments did they make you play?" I asked as I played. Newell hummed thoughtfully as he played along, closing his eyes before scrunching his face up in distaste.
"Violin. Cello. Flute. Clarinet. I tried to play the drums at some point, but the sixties didn't last too long." He drawled, opening his eyes again to study the keys. I smirked at that, making Newell glance at me with a questioning scowl as I shook my head.
"Just think it's weird to imagine you with bell bottoms and hippie clothes." I answered, making Newell snort as he shook his head, reaching for another drink of blood wine that made him pause afterwards and make a face before he continued to play.
"You mistake me for a free spirit. I wasn't quite as free as I had thought myself. I was already leading an army by then. Suits were more my thing." He responded, making me nod slowly as I cocked my head, watching him play.
"So, you were born in the thirties you said?"
"Yes."
"Does that mean you were around for World War II? Like, Hitler and the Jews?"
"Indeed," Newell answered, sounding more like an adult now, "You're also forgetting the Japanese and Italians. Quite a big ruckus they caused. Not as bad as other dictators, mind you. There have been other wars before World War II where billions of people have been killed."
"Glad I wasn't born during all that." I muttered, shuddering at the thought. I'd seen plenty of what had happened during the war from videos, both from school and ones that my parents kept over the years. It was horrific and I couldn't image being alive during that period of time. I watched Newell slow his playing so the song sounded sad now.
"I'm glad I was around during that time," Newell spoke up, pausing to hum as I frowned at him curiously, "Had I not, I would never have started the rebellion... But then, I suppose, that was my downfall. But every great leader falls. Hitler fell."
"Hitler was psycho." I snorted. Newell smiled at that and I knew instantly that he was drunk. He had to be. Newell wouldn't just smile for no reason.
"Yes, he was, wasn't he? But he was powerful. The people believed his words. They listened to him. He led armies and stood tall. It was his death that was pathetic... Though, he knew he was cornered and trapped..." His voice trailed for a moment before he frowned, still playing the same song over and over again.
"Are you drunk?" I asked. Newell blinked, then looked up and frowned before looking at the bottle nearby with a scowl.
"I suppose. I haven't drank blood wine in quite a while... And, obviously it's going to effect me faster than others because I'm..." He stopped talking and continued to play. I sat there awkwardly, mostly just watching him play. I had never really thought about how depressed he felt. While I had my own issues, Newell had plenty-- and plenty of time to gather them in too. He was betrayed by his parents and had his rightful position in the clan taken away. He had a disorder, something that was very rare in vampires. He killed the leader of a terrorist group, his own father, and was now being hunted down for it.
"Sorry about before," I said at last, making him pause and glance at me, scrunching his nose up in confusion, "I mean, when I was yelling at you. I know I need to control myself, but it's kinda hard. How did you do it? You said you had this... parasite in you too. How did you deal with it?" Newell stared at him for a while, then looked away, pressing his fingers down on the keys in the beginning of a tune I found familiar.
"I'm not quite sure," Newell admitted, humming for a moment along with the tune before he continued to play and speak at the same time, "I felt the power coursing through me. I knew what I wanted to use it for. So I used it, but it vanished suddenly in the middle of a fight against my... Against Edward, the leader of Zephyra." I nodded slowly, placing my fingers back on the keys as I joined the tune, making him raise an eyebrow before I shrugged and played along.
"I like Tim Burton movies." I replied. Newell smirked, striking the keys higher. I played the lower parts, making him smile a little more as he struck the keys quicker. I mimicked them at the lower pitch.
"How'd you watch them?" I asked him. Newell shrugged.
"When you're sitting alone in a hotel room, they usually only have children's channels. They played a lot of Tim Burton movies. I find the aura of his movies quite refreshing."
"You like the gothic sorta stuff?"
"I suppose you could call it that."
"That actually doesn't surprise me... I mean, no offense, but you don't strike me as a happy person." I admitted, shrugging as I played the keys toward the higher notes, then back down. Newell played for a while in silence before he suddenly looked tired. In fact, he suddenly looked like he was getting angry and I wondered if I offended him as he struck his fingers down all at once on the keys.
"I'm not happy," Newell admitted, reaching up to take the bottle and a heavy swig from it, pausing to make a face at the harsh flavor, "I don't think I ever have been. What does it feel like?" I blinked. Was it because he was drunk that he was being so open? I shifted a little uneasily, shrugging as I looked down at the keys.
"I guess it's kind of a light feeling? I don't know. You feel like you can't stop smiling and you don't care how stupid it looks. Your chest feels like it's going to explode." I tried. Newell made a face.
"Sounds painful." He commented. I laughed a little, then bit my lip as we lapsed into silence before I spoke again.
"Weren't you happy when you killed, uhm, Edward?" I asked, avoiding the term father because he didn't seem to like calling that guy his dad. Newell frowned, staring at the keys of the piano for a while before he took another drink of blood wine. He went to set it down, but it crashed to the floor, making me wince. I heard a footstep creak on the flooring and looked up to see Xed standing in the doorway, frowning. Newell looked up, and now that I caught his face in the dim lights, I could definitely tell he was drunk. His eyes were glassy and half closed, and he looked a little sick.
"Xed," Newell greeted and turned on the bench, "What are you doing? Go back to bed." Xed obviously didn't answer and approached us, nodding his head to me as if he were thanking me. He reached his hand out to Newell, who smacked it away and tried to get off the bench, only to crumple to the floor. I managed to catch him under the arms before Xed knelt and pulled Newell up into his arms, holding him against his chest as if he were carrying a small child.
"Thanks." I told Xed, who nodded again before carrying Newell back to their room. I got up and grabbed a towel to mop up the mess Newell had made. I knelt down and set the towel down, placing a hand on the floor, then gasped as a sharp pain shot through my palm. I lifted my hand, staring at a piece of glass that was sticking out of my palm. It was the size of a penny, but it still hurt and it was in pretty deep, dark red blood gushing past it and dripping to the floor.
I froze, staring at the blood when I felt like a cold air burst into my face, making me squeeze my eyes shut before blinking them open to find myself lying on a bed. A soft, expensive looking bed with gold and burgandy sheets and drapes. I grimaced, slowly getting up, then flinching to see that I was wearing a wedding dress. But it wasn't white.
It was black. Black with a long train that fell over the side of the bed with a tight corset that crushed my ribcage. I pushed myself up, rolling off the bed, stumbling for a second and looking down to see a pair of heels. I curled my lip and kicked them off before looking around. The room was huge with a tall, pointed ceiling. A door was set across from the bed, so I padded over to it, taking the rich gold handle in my fist and giving it a twist, only to stop when I heard voices.
I blinked and cocked my head, thinking the voices came from behind the door, but they got loud enough so that I had to turn around and saw two people standing by the bed now. It looked like Wulf and Orion, I realized with wide eyes. They didn't seem to notice me as they spoke.
"Hurry your ass up," Orion ordered impatiently, clenching a fist and using his other hand to stretch a bow tie on his tuxedo, "I hate wasting my time at these things. We have to hurry and transport them."
"I'm transporting Julian. He's my husband." Wulf replied flatly. Like hell, I thought angrily and started to go after them, then pulled up short as the room vanished, along with Orion and Wulf. Or at least, for a moment before I reappeared in the church from my last vision. I blinked, looking around to see that all the seats were still empty. I jumped when I realized Wulf was standing next to me, his arm linked with mine. I was wearing a white version of that wedding dress from before. I tried to pull away, but it was like my body couldn't move. I was trapped.
"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asked, looking at me. My jaw dropped for a second before I tried again to get away from Wulf, but it was no use.
"No!" I managed. The priest turned to look at Wulf.
"And do you take--"
"I do." Wulf cut him off pleasantly with a wide grin. The priest nodded and looked down, opening his mouth to ask if anyone should think we shouldn't be married when there was a loud, animalistic snarl that sent ice coursing up my spine. I finally managed to whirl around and so did Wulf to see the doors to the church throw themselves open. Chills went through me, giving me goose bumps as only darkness was revealed for a moment before heavy black fog curled into the room. My eyes widened and I stepped away from Wulf, who seemed to slowly fade away along with the priest.
"Daimonas?" I called, then hesitated as the black fog filled the room, making it dark and dreary. I walked out into the aisle, waiting and looking around when a cold metallic voice spoke, one that I recognized all too well.
Sssstop wassssting time. Daimonas sneered. I flinched, scanning the fog for any sign of an actual solid form, but there was nothing. Just thick, suffocating black fog. I glared now, clenching my fists and fighting the quiver in my chest.
"Me? What am I supposed to do? Zephyra hasn't come after us since--"
Are you ssstupid? They're plotting. They're watching. They will jump you when you leassst expect it.
"How do we know what they're plotting?" I asked, confused as I searched the inside of the church. I didn't get an answer right away. At least, nothing vocal. I felt something cold slither around my legs, making me gasp as I pulled the bottom of the dress up to look down, but there was nothing aside from the fog. That same something smoothed across my bare back, making me hiss and whip around. My eyes searched and searched, but the fog seemed to only get thicker.
I felt something cold on the back of my neck, like icy fingers trying to clamp down on me, but I whipped around, bringing my arm to smack into something, but there was nothing there. The fog just scattered before regrouping.
"Quit teasing me! Tell me what's going on! If you're so powerful, why can't you just show me what's going to happen?" I demanded angrily, looking around quickly. There was a deep laughter that came from within the fog. I turned around again, then froze when I saw a pair of deep gray eyes with a sharp slit down the center, like the eyes of a snake. I went absolutely still, then felt that same smooth sensation, like someone was trying to touch me. I shuddered and hugged myself, shaking my head before peering at those eyes that watched me, unblinking.
"Talk to me! Tell me something! Anything! I'm your host, right? So do something or I'll die and take you with me." I managed. Daimonas laughed and those eyes, eyes that I assumed were his or hers or whatever it was, danced and smiled at me.
Jusssst becaussse you have the power to do sssso much.... doesss not mean you can ussse it for everything. I cannot tell you exactly what isss to happen, but I can ssshow you, which isss exactly what I have been doing all thissss time.
"What'd you mean," I groaned impatiently, stomping my foot so the heel clicked hard against the marble floor, "I'm gonna get married or something? That doesn't make sense. My parents don't even like the idea of me marrying Adam. And I sure as hell am not marrying Wulf. Have you seen what he's done to me?"
Oh yesss, it sssuitsss you quite well. But your vissssionss are not alwayssss exact. They hint.
"Oh, gee, that's helpful."
It'ssss the limit. Deal with it.
"Tsk," I threw my arms down at my sides, frowning, "So what do you want me to do then? There's really nothing we can do until Zephyra jumps us again and who knows when that'll be?" There was a long, wistful sigh. I frowned, waiting for Daimonas to respond, but there was only silence. I started to protest again, but I suddenly felt like the air had been knocked out of my chest. I gasped for breath, my hand shooting up to touch my throat. I parted my lips, trying to draw air into my lungs. At the same time, the black fog around me swirled and hissed, whipping itself back out the doors of the church I stood in like something even more powerful had ripped him away from me.
And when I blinked, I found myself staring up into Adam's face, concern etched into his deep hazel eyes as he patted my cheek with his hand.
"Julian? Julian, can you hear me?" He demanded, keeping his voice quiet so as not to wake up the rest of the household. I blinked, focusing in on his face as he gave my cheek another gentle, but firm smack. I reached up and caught his hand against my cheek, letting him know that I could hear him. He looked relieved, but at the same time, managed to keep that calm, cool expression that only made me relax further. He used his free hand to smooth the hair back from my face before trailing it down to stroke my cheek.
"What're you doing in here? What happened?" He asked, then glanced at the broken bottle of blood wine. Had it woken him up? How was that even possible? Adam was the heaviest sleeper I know. He was the kind of person who could sleep through a tornado.
"Newell," I forced myself to say at last, relieved that I could breathe again, "He was at the piano. He was drinking and I came over to talk to him and then Xed came and took him and then I went to grab the bottle, but the blood... My hand. The whole vision thing." My voice was shaking now and I cursed the very tremor in my voice, but Adam didn't seem at all bothered by it. He didn't think any less of me for being freaked out and just nodded before he sat back on his hunches, lifting my hand in his. The piece of glass was still in my palm, but only for a second longer before Adam plucked it out, making me hiss past clenched teeth. He glanced up at me, then back down as he held his hand over mine. He placed the glass on the piano bench and pulled me to my feet.
We got the blood and glass all cleaned up before heading back to the couch. I snuggled close under the blankets, pressing hard up against Adam, who wrapped his arms around me and sighed tiredly. He gave me this silent, questioning stare that asked if I wanted to talk about whatever was in my vision, but thinking about it made me nauseous, so I just drew closer to his face, kissing him on the lips.
I went to pull away, but he wouldn't let me and held me close against him, our lips crushing hard together before he forced mine open with his tongue. I practically purred at the way his tongue massaged mine, his hands working their way down my back to the waistband of my pants. He buried his hands beneath it, clasping his bare hands against my skin.
"If your family wasn't so terrifying, I'd fuck you right here... again." Adam murmured to me, his lips rubbing against mine as he spoke. I moaned at that, sighing in frustration as he withdrew his hands to clasp at the small of my back instead. I gave up on trying to urge him to have sex, because I knew for a fact he'd go at it fast and hard and I would be way too tempted to be loud and alert the parental units. I settled for resting my head in the crook of his neck, trying to relax and forget about the eerie vision Daimonas had given me.
One that only gave me more questions than answers. How do you prepare for a terrorist attack when you had no idea what they were planning? No way to reach them?
I fell asleep to a thousand newborn questions swirling around in my head.
And woke up to the rich smell of coffee and warmed up O positive. Oh yeah, and--
"Time to wake up, boys," My mom's voice called out to us from the kitchen, "Time for school! Get up!" I groaned and reached for the pillow to over my head, but my hand only fell on the mattress. I scowled, blinking my eyes open sleepily and lifting my head to see that Adam has stolen my pillow during the night and was also half on top of me, something my mom would not be so happy to see. I rolled my eyes and gave Adam a shove. He wouldn't budge. He was like a pile of cement just lying on top of me.
"Adam," I grumbled tiredly, "Get off me. My mom's going to castrate you like a pig."
"Mmhm."
"I said wake up, human."
"Mmm."
"Ugh." I dropped my head back on the pillow, momentarily admitting defeat to the overgrown baby sleeping on top of me. I could feel a chuckle vibrate Adam's chest, making me raise an eyebrow. He rolled over onto his back and I finally managed to sit up, rubbing the headache that was beginning behind my eyes. I looked down at Adam, who had gone back to sleep. I shook my head, giving up on trying to wake him up for now. I climbed out of bed and padded into the kitchen where my mom was waiting with a mug of blood. My fangs throbbed in my mouth and I moaned as I took the mug from her hands and took a deep, hearty gulp.
The warmth of it spread out over my tongue, only mildly burned the roof of my mouth, and sailed down into my stomach. I could feel it go all the way down my throat and into my gut. My mother smiled at me, then glanced behind me before looking back at me as she drummed her fingernails on the counter top near Adam's mug of coffee.
"Where's the boyfriend? He specifically asked for coffee in the mornings from now on and he doesn't even wake up for it." She added. I shrugged, looking behind me, then turning to face her again, still feeling sleepy, but now more comfortable and warm considering the amount of blood I was chugging down now.
"Trying to wake him up is like trying to mime pull the moon to yourself." I answered her, making her lift a thin brow at the challenge. She held up a finger for me to wait one minute before she walked past me into the living room. I frowned, my eyes following her as she went through the dining room and into the living room. I waited exactly a minute before there was a loud thump, like someone falling out of bed. I blinked, coming to stand in the opening of the dining room just as my mom was coming back with an all too sweet smile.
"He's awake now. Tell him his coffee's on the counter. I have to go get your dad up for work." She told me, patting me on the shoulder. I stared after her, then turned as Adam came toward me, scratching the back of his head and rubbing his back with the other hand. He didn't look too pleased.
"What happened?" I asked, surprised. How did she get Adam to wake up? I needed to know her secret, but Adam gave me a look that said he'd rather not repeat the experience, so I gave up instantly knowing that pushing the king would result in pain, especially at six in the morning. He grabbed his coffee and leaned back on the counter, taking little sips. He grimaced, though, as he stared out the glass door that led to the backyard that seemed to have gained another blanket of snow over night.
"You're sure we have school today?" He asked. I raised an eyebrow, cocking a hip to the side and holding my mug out toward the glass door.
"It's Michigan. Of course we have school. Remember that year we had a blizzard? And there was school?" I asked, making Adam snort and shake his head before he sipped the coffee the rest of the way down. I finished off my mug and put it away before I went to shower first. My room was still freezing cold and I was glad that I brought my clothes into the warm bathroom. I hurried up, changing into a pair of black jeans, my matching jacket over a black turtleneck, my fingerless gloves, and my boots. I met my mom in the kitchen, letting Adam take his turn in the shower.
"Okay, sweetheart," My mother told me as she snapped the cap on my thermos, tucking it into my bag, "You behave today. The last thing I need is a call about you getting detention. Because if that happens, you can forget presents this year."
"Not cool, ma." I grunted, then grimaced as she ruffled my hair, kissing me on the temple before she met my father, who had just come in from cleaning off the cars. He was shivering, shaking snow off him and making his way to meet my mom, who placed a chaste kiss on his cheek that made him smile. I scrunched up my nose, but my mom made a puppet snapping its mouth shut with her hand in my face. I only surrendered because Adam had entered the foyer behind my dad, looking clean and more awake now, wearing his army jacket over a black hoodie and matching jeans that jingled with chains, a couple of holes in the material revealing his bare skin.
"Oh, Adam," My mom groaned seeing his pants, making Adam close his eyes in attempt to reign in his patience, considering the fact that he probably just about had it with my mom's criticism of his fashion sense, "Look at the holes. Come on now. It's freezing out there!"
"Sorry, spent my last bout of cash on a new guitar. I'll consider a new wardrobe later." Adam responded casually, making my mother roll her eyes and start to quip, but my father just kissed her quickly on the lips and she gave up. I grabbed my bag, then Adam's and went to the foyer, handing him his bag. My mom met up with us and we all went out to the car.
I was actually surprised we hadn't run into Newell or Xed. I usually had that kind of luck.
"Did Newell and Xed leave yet?" I asked as we climbed into the car. My mom laughed a little as she closed the door behind her, backing out of the driveway.
"It seems Newell has quite a hangover. He won't be getting out of bed for a while." She replied, making Adam smirk as he leaned back in his seat. I almost laughed at that, but then I remembered the way Newell had acted last night. He was definitely depressed, especially enough to get drunk. I actually felt bad for him now. So instead of teasing or making fun of him, I switched topics.
"I don't have to go into the hospital again today, do I?" I asked, referring to the ridiculous amount of times I had to go in for testing because of Daimonas. My mother snorted as she drove down the road, heading for the school and trying to avoid the kids that crossed the streets.
"I really rather you not. You practically destroyed it last time."
"Gee, thanks, mom, your concern for my well being is astounding."
"Oh, and you too, honey. Oh, and don't forget, Amber and Mary-Kay are coming to visit soon. So we need to get that window fixed. They'll be sleeping in the living room."
"Not my job... No," I added when my mom gave me a dirty look in the rearview mirror, "I mean, really. I don't have a job. I can't pay for that."
"Speaking of which," My mother said in that tone that said beware I shall unleash upon you a lecture most heinous, "You need to start applying. At least Adam is working towards something. And it pains me to say that. You need to learn how to handle some responsibility and--"
"And become a better person, or at least gain a modicum of Alexander's wonderful beautiful talent so you can make us look good in the eyes of the vampire world and vampire forever-dom and blah blah blah. Cool story, ma, but we're at the school and I suddenly find Algebra less torturous than this lecture." I tacked on, watching her glare at me. I stiffened and Adam swung the door open, hopping out. I quickly climbed out after him and shut the door before my mom could throw a hissy fit. Instead, she pulled away, her tires throwing snow at me. I scowled, wiping it off my face to see Adam smirking as he turned to head to the school.
"That was so not funny." I protested, hurrying to keep up with him. Adam looked up at the sky thoughtfully, then nodded.
"No. No, it was. Your mom's sassy." He answered. I rolled my eyes at that, but said nothing more on the matter as we went into the school that was open early to let the students into the warmth. I stopped by my locker, throwing my things in when someone bumped into me rudely. My blood boiled and I snapped around to protest, but I stopped to see Walter hurrying away, wearing a school sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, but I recognized that gorilla lope anywhere. My mouth dropped open in surprise.
How? Why? I had heard Walter was admitted into a mental instituation because of his whole vampire freak out episode and attempted suicide.
And the eeriest thing was that before, Walter traveled in a pack. Now, his pack had completely abandoned him and he was now a lone wolf that people purposely parted their little groups to let him through, as if they were afraid of him. It sent a cold chill up my spine.
"Was that Walter?" I looked up to see Adam coming over, his eyes locked on Walter's retreating figure in the crowd. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, teeth clenched behind his pursed lips as if he were debating the safest way to kill Walter without getting caught. I frowned, looking away to see that Walter had disappeared amongst the crowds.
"Yeah, I know that Neanderthal anywhere. I didn't know he was coming back." I muttered, closing my locker. Adam glanced at me, then back down the hallway before he looked back at me again.
"If he comes near you, let me know. I already have enough shit on my plate without him wandering back in." He responded. I almost agreed, but stopped myself again when I realized that the whole reason Walter was messed up and paranoid and pretty much psycho now was my fault. If I had just taken the thermos from him before he could drink from it, he'd never know I was a...
"Get that look off your face," Adam warned suddenly, making me blink and look up at him to see him giving me a hard stare, "Don't feel sorry for him, Julian. And don't feel like it's your fault. Walter's always been a vicious prick. Not to mention, he's probably even more dangerous now."
"Why? He doesn't have his Viking clan with him." I pointed out quietly. Adam stared at me.
"That doesn't matter. There's nothing scarier than a rogue. Trust me. Just keep your distance. I'm getting weird vibes off him today." He told me under his breath, then gestured with his head for me to follow him. I took that as a this discussion is over. Part of me wanted to continue arguing, but the rest of me didn't care. Adam was probably right; he usually was.
He walked me to my first hour class, hardly caring that there were tons of people around as he leaned down, giving me a firm, hungry kiss on the mouth before he left me to get to his class. I walked into my class just in time to see a new student sitting in front of the teacher's desk. I frowned at him and the sudden chill that coursed up my spine.
He looked just like any other human. Totally boring and average with dark brown hair that was cut a bit short, spiked with gel, and blonde frosted tips. A pair of shocking green eyes behind a pair of black chic glasses that matched his V-neck sweater over a blue button up, his jeans leading to a pair of wet sneakers.
I almost thought nothing of him, until I passed by and my arm brushed his shoulder. At the same time the contact happened, in that split second, a vision slammed into me so hard that it knocked the air from my lungs.
It was just a flash, but enough to have me gasping for breath as I stumbled back and almost fell on the floor if it weren't for the guy behind me, who shoved impatiently.
I snapped my head to look at the new student, but he acted as if he couldn't care less who I was. At least, not at first anyway. I quickly walked to my seat in the back corner by the window, sliding down into my seat as the bell rang and the rest of the students took their seats. The history teacher cleared his throat as he picked up a few papers, then looked up.
"All right, it seems we have a new student today. Declan Calhoun. Please stand up and introduce yourself." The teacher didn't seem too interested and neither did the rest of the class. The girls didn't giggle or gossip about how he was hot-- he was too plain to be hot. And the guys just began their sleep during class routines by laying their heads down. I was too afraid to look up at first, but I could feel a pair of eyes burning into me, so I slowly lifted my eyes to see Declan staring at me intently.
"My name is Declan Calhoun. I'm from Portage, Michigan, and I do a lot of photography in my spare time. I'm actually quite boring other than that." He informed, then sat back down and the entire time, our eyes were locked.
And I knew.
He knew.
That the vision I had gotten when we brushed was a vision of Adam being murdered, an unrecognizable hand burrowing right through his chest, holding his heart in front of my face as if taunting me.