Embody Page 17

  “Maybe they’re being nice to me to win you over,” I said, looking down.

  “No...Drake himself was in here...he never took his eyes off you...just don’t trust him, OK?” She said, sure of herself.

  I tried to comprehend why someone so perfect would take an interest in me. Why was I different? Then I remembered the way his touch felt. “When he touched your shoulder, did you feel anything?” I asked Stella.

  She shook her head no, confused by my question. “Did you?”

  “Yeah, it felt warm...mesmerizing.”

  My words scared her. “They say he has powers...maybe he’s using them on you.”

  “Powers?”

  “I don’t know...they say they all have them,” she mumbled.

  The voices that were low in the other room stopped, and the older man looked me dead in the eyes; he still held no emotion. I knew then that Stella was right that we couldn’t trust them.

  When they saw that I was sitting up, they walked slowly into the room, and their expression held a degree of surprise. The older man came to my side and pressed his hand to my forehead. “Your fever has broken,” he said in a hushed voice. I nodded, and Stella scooted closer to me. “My name is Alamos, the high priest,” he said. “Do you feel well?” I nodded. “Can you tell me if you’ve dreamt the last few nights?” he asked in a sincere tone.

  I found the question odd. “No,” I answered quietly.

  “Have you heard any voices?” he asked. I shook my head no. The man looked back at the younger one, who turned quickly and left. “You must take your medicine hourly; otherwise, the pain will resume,” he continued. I nodded. “I will have them bring you food. Stay in the bed until daylight tomorrow. I will be back then to check on your progress.”

  Alamos looked at Stella, then walked away. We heard the door close. Stella then stood and walked slowly, inspecting the front room. She left my sight, but I stretched out my sense of emotion and followed her as she explored. It must have been beautiful; I could feel the astonishment coming from her.

  Suddenly, I could feel others approaching. “Stella,” I whispered harshly.

  She ran back in the room on her tiptoes and sat down at my side. The door in the front room opened, and I could feel two people; they seemed harmless. The woman that had helped balance me walked in the room, holding a large tray of food. She smiled slightly, then placed the tray across my lap. Both mine and Stella’s eyes widened as we looked at the food: the tray was full of fruit, bread, potatoes, and what looked like a small chicken.

  One of the men that was with us earlier was setting up a canvas in the front room, just a few feet from the doorway. I watched as he laid out paint and brushes in front of it, then looked at Stella; she was just as confused by it as I was. The woman smiled at Stella, then she and the man left.

  “I’ve never even seen food like this before,” Stella said as she gazed at the tray. “I don’t care if you don’t have an appetite – you’re going to eat this...this is like a once in a lifetime opportunity,” she said as her eyes danced across the tray.

  I was confused by her comments. I was certain that I’d seen this before; I even knew how everything would taste. I found the childlike smile on Stella’s face somewhat amusing. Her smile quickly left her, though, and fear rose. “You don’t think it’s poison, do you?” she asked me.

  “I’m sure if they wanted us dead, they’d find a faster way,” I answered.

  Stella’s excitement grew again. She reached for a strawberry and slowly brought it to her lips, taking in the smell before she tasted it; her joy was immediate. I was so happy for her. I began to nibble on the bread, giving her every opportunity to explore the other foods.

  We finished dinner and lay in silence side by side. Stella slowly drifted to sleep, full of peace. I watched her closely, desperately trying to recall her before the storm. With my pain gone now, I had a chance to reflect on the first moments I could recall. Willow...was Willow trying to help me? What did the voice in my head mean? “She’s already gone”…he knew about my sickness...how is that possible? I regretted with every ounce of my soul telling that voice to be quiet, and I seriously considered not taking my pills so I’d be able to hear it again – but the memory of the pain quickly took that desire away. I felt so alone – out of place.

  I stared through the open doorway at the blank canvas, feeling called to it. The fear of saying or doing something wrong hovered over me, and I tried falling asleep - only to feel the canvas beckoning me. Reasoning to myself that looking more closely at the paint would bring no harm, I slowly slid out of the large bed I was in and tiptoed carefully so as not to make a noise.

  The front room was enormous. The wall to the right was all windows, and moonlight covered with gray clouds shined through, giving light to the elegant furniture and oil paintings on the walls. I stepped closer to the canvas and eyed the paint and the brushes. Looking back, I saw Stella still sound asleep. I argued with myself that they’d brought the canvas and food at the same time, which must mean that it was for us to use. I’d managed not to get either of us killed so far; if I was wrong, maybe I could work off the cost of the canvas and the paint.

  My hands shook as I reached for the brush; it felt natural in my hand. Suddenly, a flash of memory came to me: a bright open room, a canvas by an open window. Peace and happiness was all around me; I felt...loved. I tried to focus and call back more memories, but my mind was weak, and all I could see was vague darkness. Wanting to see color again, I reached for the paint, and slowly - almost regretfully - I outlined the Estate that I’d walked into that day. I made the walls a deep red brick, and I turned all the balconies white. I then drew trees and flowers all around the courtyard.

  I was debating adding people when I heard someone clear their throat. My breath left me, and every muscle in my body tensed. Full of fear, I slowly glanced over my shoulder to see Drake standing in the doorway. His mesmerizing dark eyes captured mine, pulling me to face him, and I let my eyes fall across his perfect image. My emotions were out of control; part of me felt safe, almost loved in his presence - and the other part of me was angry, vengeful.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Drake raised a finger to his lips, then tilted his head in Stella’s direction. I followed his eyes and saw her still sleeping soundly. He then reached his arm out, inviting me out of the room. Feeling honored and beautiful by his undivided attention, I wanted to go with him, so I pushed down the negative feelings that were screaming at me and stepped cautiously forward. I trusted Stella’s judgment, and I knew she wouldn’t want me to leave her - but I told myself that he was the one in power and that he held both my and Stella’s lives in his hands. I had to tell myself to look down, not to stare at his perfect image.

  The doorway led to a wide hallway. The ceilings were high and arched over our heads, displaying breathtaking images of angels and demons at war. Glossy tables and elegant couches lined the walls between several doorways. I walked alongside Drake, unsure of where he was leading me and wishing I could feel him to know if I were in danger.

  He looked down at me. “I was under the impression that you were to stay in bed until daylight,” he said in a mischievous tone.

  “I...um...I must have slept too much during the day...and I felt so much better, it seemed like a waste to lay still,” I answered, apprehensive.

  I heard him laugh quietly. “So, do you often paint in the dead of night?” he asked.

  “I don’t...,” I paused, not sure if they should know that I couldn’t remember anything. I looked up to judge his expression; he was a frustrating void to me. His beautiful lips were turned into a slight grin, and his eyes captured mine once again. I lost my breath...he was too perfect.

  We walked to the end of the hallway and turned left, and he opened the first door and extended his arm for me to enter. I stepped inside the large room. Lining the walls were blank canvases; some were small, others were large. There was a table centering the room with hundreds of brushes
and paints of every color. “I was going to show this to you tomorrow - but after seeing that painting, I couldn’t wait,” he whispered into the room. I turned to see him smiling. I couldn’t comprehend what I could have done to earn his favor.

  “Are these yours?” I asked.

  He shook his head no, looking a little discomfited. “They are meant for a talented, artistic, beautiful young woman,” he said, staring deep in my eyes.

  “So...why are you showing me this?” I asked.

  Drake smiled again, then slowly closed the gap between us. He raised his hand to my head, and I gasped before his touch, knowing how amazing it would feel. He hesitated, then smiled at me and touched the side of my head; a warm rush swept through me, followed by absolute bliss.

  “How I wonder how you managed to do this to yourself,” he said so quietly that I barely heard him. “Be honest with me,” he said as he slowly lowered his hand, tucking a lock of my hair behind my ear. “Do you remember anything before that storm you were in?”

  I looked down, shameful. He then brought his hand to my chin and gently pulled up my face; his touch was so perfect. I stared deeply into his smiling eyes.

  “That’s what I thought you might say,” he whispered.

  “Are you going to hurt Stella?” I asked. His eyes questioned me. “I don’t remember...so it’s easy for me to stand out of line...but it’s not her fault. I’ll take her punishment,” I pleaded with him.

  “And what do you feel that you’ve done to deserve a punishment?” he whispered, amused by my words.

  “Is it not my place to serve you? Not to be sick and weak?”

  “Ahh...you think it’s my place to rule over you,” he said, smiling. I nodded. “You know, a beautiful woman once told me that it wasn’t anyone’s place to rule over another.”

  That was the second time that he’d referred to a beautiful young girl; I wondered who she was. I got the impression that I should already know - which was terrifying. “I don’t understand,” I whispered.

  Drake placed his hands on my face, and I felt as light as a feather. He then leaned in and said, “I’m grateful that you don’t.” Leaning closer, he kissed my lips softly, and his warmth was now coursing through me. I felt my body go limp, and he reached his arm around me to brace me from falling. I found myself kissing him back; his body grew less tense, which caused the rush to intensify. I had to break away just to breathe...I felt like I was going to faint.

  Smiling, Drake slowly let go of me. I stared up at him, baffled at what had just happened to me. All at once, a sharp pain came crashing through the center of me. I bent over, bracing myself. Drake reached out and put his hands on mine, and the pain left me immediately. I moved my hands, letting only his rest on me.

  “I’d say that you’re overdue for your medicine,” he said.

  He reached down, picked me up, and carried me to a long couch that lined the wall. He then sat down, holding me in his lap. “I think I can help you for now,” he whispered, placing his hand on my stomach again.

  I stared into his eyes, bewildered. “How do you do that?” I whispered.

  “It’s just a gift that I have,” he answered.

  “I see now why they say you’re charismatic,” I whispered, looking down at his hand.

  “Is that what they say?” he said, laughing under his breath. “The truth is, this gift is only meant to make one person feel this way...the one who’s meant for me,” he said quietly.

  “Is that why you touched all of those girls earlier? Can you feel it the same way?” I asked.

  Drake shyly smiled at me. I couldn’t comprehend what he saw in me. “I knew it was you from the moment I first saw you...I only touched them to show you that I meant no harm,” he said, reaching forward to kiss me again. Tears started to stream down my face; as good as his touch felt - it also felt wrong. I felt like I was letting down people who loved me. I wasn’t even sure I was thinking of Stella; it felt stronger than that.

  I pulled away and looked down. “I’m sure you know that I’m dying...I really do hope that you’ll find another that can feel you the way that I do,” I said.

  He reached up and wiped away my tears, then searched deep in my eyes. “No one ever really dies...this body is just a broken vessel; your soul is what’s keeping it alive,” he said, searching my eyes for understanding.

  The word ‘vessel’ brought a flashback forward: it was of Drake holding me in a room with a white background. I remembered being angry and scared all at once...I’d known him before - but how? Not knowing was sending my own emotions into a whirlwind; I felt like this was all wrong, and I should be appalled by being here.

  As tears fell from my eyes, Drake pulled me forward, and I laid my head on his chest. I was questioning everything that was happening to me when I saw a shadow cross the doorway.

  “Alamos,” Drake said. Alamos walked into the room and slowly approached us. I was embarrassed about being in Drake’s lap and went to move - only to be held tighter by him. “Could you bring her medicine to me? The pain has resumed,” Drake said.

  Alamos bowed his head and left the room.

  “I don’t like the pills; they taste horrible. Could you not just stay at my side?” I pleaded.

  Drake smiled and ran his hand across the base of my eye. “I’ll stay at your side for all of eternity. Fate has brought you to my doorstep, which neither of us can argue with,” he paused, giving me a chance to take in his words. “These pills will help me protect you from the pain, from the foolish dreams, and from voices that would take you from me,” he said, sure of himself.

  He knew about the voice – but how? What dreams? Why would they take me? Were they bad? The memory of the young man’s voice pulled at my heart. Drake was trying to keep me from him...why? Who was he?

  “I don’t understand,” I whispered.

  He leaned in again and kissed me softly, moving my soul. I kissed him back, and as I did I saw a flash of heavenly blue eyes cross my memory. A sickening feeling settled in the base of my stomach, and I pulled away slowly.

  “Just trust me,” he whispered.

  Alamos returned to the room with a glass of water and four large pills. They watched as I swallowed them one by one, regretting it as I felt them slide down my throat. Alamos reached for my wrist and felt my pulse. He then gave a cautious look to Drake and left the room without a word. Drake pulled me to his chest and hummed a quiet lullaby. I closed my eyes, feeling the hum of his body and the blissful absence of pain. I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep in his arms, wishing I was strong enough to fight the power of the pills and dream, wondering if I’d find the answers to why I was there.

  “Evee...wake up,” Stella said in a harsh whisper. I opened my eyes to see that the darkness had left and a gray sky made a depressing backdrop in the large window.“Why did you paint? Are you crazy? I don’t even know how to talk our way out of this,” she whispered harshly.

  Her fear was vibrating me. I sat up slowly, finding myself back in my room; I couldn’t recall how I’d gotten here. I looked forward to the other room and saw the painting I’d made the night before, then everything that had happened – kissing him, the words that he’d said – soon came back to life in my memory.

  “It’s OK...they know I did it,” I whispered.

  “What? No, they don’t. No one has been in here,” she argued.

  “I saw Drake last night...he was pleased that I’d painted,” I answered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He saw it...he showed me another room with more canvases,” I said, tracing my memory.

  “Since when did you learn to do that?” she questions.

  “Is that new, too?” I asked

  “Yes...I’ve never seen anything like it...I think you painted flowers,” she said, looking across the room at the painting.

  “Those are flowers,” I said.

  “How do know what they look like?” she asked.

  Fear came through me; I realized then that I h
adn’t seen flowers anywhere here. A memory of stunning flowers came to me, blue and green ones, and a little beautiful girl in a field picking them.

  “Stella...do you think I’m demented?” I whispered.

  Her fear intensified. “Of course not. Why would you ask something so foolish?” she said, looking away from me.

  I felt doubt in her words. I just couldn’t understand who I was or why Drake was so nice to me.

  “It’s just the emotions and truth. I know I’ve seen food like what we ate last night before, and I know that I know what flowers look like, and painting, the voices...I keep getting flashes of people in my head...blue eyes,” I said in a rushed whisper.

  “Blue eyes?” she repeated, more surprised by that than anything else I’d said. I nodded. “No one has blue eyes; we all have brown eyes,” she said as her eyes shifted through my words.

  “What was I doing just before the storm?” I asked

  “You’d just left Dr. Parker’s...he told you that you only had days left. You were crying as you told me, then the wind knocked us down; a board from one of the signs fell and hit you in the head. I pulled you into Tim’s shop. You closed your eyes and fell, hitting your head again. After that, you woke up and started acting strange,” Stella recounted. I couldn’t remember any of it and felt so alone.

  Stella shifted in front of me. “Listen, I may not have your senses...but something here feels wrong...we can’t trust them,” she whispered.

  I looked down, and she gently pulled up my chin. “Evee, trust me: you know he’s not the way to the light we all crave. He was raised by darkness, and he’ll stay in darkness. If you had your memory, you never would have even spoken to him...don’t let your guard down; we’re all we have.”

  I nodded and slid back down under the covers, letting the little girl’s image surface again, followed by the blue eyes. I then felt people coming close to us, so I squeezed Stella’s hand and motioned with my eyes toward the door. Her fear rose even higher.