So Shall I Reap (8 page)

The harsh light of the kitchen hurt my eyes. I blinked a few times to regain normal sight because the Quarters game crowd had dissipated from the table which gave the room a softer feel. A few cliques hung around the island of cocktail food, but it was quiet enough to hear their soft conversation. I hit blue T-shirt with a hard question.

“So, I spilled your drink, insulted you, almost danced with you, but I still don’t know your name.”

“What’s in a name?” He shrugged. “What’s yours?”

What is this—a guessing game?
With hands on my hips, I gave him an arched eyebrow look. Did he think he was being cute? Yeah, name or I was out of here in five seconds.

He bent down to bring his eyes level with mine and replied through a secretive hiss. “Michael. That is all you need to know.” He seemed pleased by captivating my attention because my eyes were frozen wide with astonishment. I couldn’t even turn away from him. Then he mimicked me, placing his hands on his hips and arching the opposite eyebrow.

I was still caught under some kind of hypnosis, staring into the never ending pools of blackness when a swirling flash of blue rose behind his irises. Power, intimidating yet tantalizing. My mouth became parched, and I wanted what was dragging me deeper into his abyss and advanced willingly. As I tried to reach for it, he cleared his throat. What he said next was confusing, “He’s going to tear up my Bonding Rite. Alexcia, let go of my essence. If you don’t, it will take your breath away, and literally my existence.”

Michael placed his hands on my arms and lightly shook me to break contact with his eyes. The corner of his eyebrows were straining, trying to close his eyes but couldn’t from the dead-lock glare he’d started. Now he was gritting his teeth. “Let go of me, Witch. Didn’t your parents teach you it’s impolite to stare?”

Parents? I knew that word. I had parents. My lids slid down to state the store was closed. The back of both eye sockets pulsed with a pounding energy that left a lingering echo bouncing around my skull, followed by a high-pitched ringing in my inner ear. Both hands worked up to my face as I sucked in a breath, which made me feel awful. Could lungs actually collapse instead of expand with every intake? Quivering from the ice bath my soul took, I struggled to regain my perspective.

“What happened, Michael? Did you feel that too?” I couldn’t help but believe what happened between us was easily explainable. Small quakes continued to push out of my epicenter making it tough to maintain my equilibrium. I staggered into his arms keeping my face away from his. My stomach and brain argued whether I should puke or not.
Lovely.

A strong, cold breeze swept past, resting squarely between us. Michael held me upright with both feet hanging four or five inches off the ground, and he walked me backward through the massive kitchen to one of the chairs behind us. I heard something scraping against the wood floor with force. He murmured, “Thank you” to someone I hadn’t seen or heard. Suddenly, the chill from his fingers around my ribs vanished. My body reacted with the force of gravity as I fell, like a rag doll, onto the chair. Now my butt
and
pride stung.
Damn Isaac Newton for being right.

Michael reached back and pulled out a chair to sit directly in front of me. Then the ringing started to subside because I could make out the steady rhythm of music. In the other room, the band was attempting a version of “Evil Angel,” by Breaking Benjamin. What a coincidence… or not. In the lyrics, the singer asked an evil angel why he couldn’t breathe, then the metal rhythm strummed. It made me consider the last thing Michael had said. Something about, if I didn’t stop, I was going to find myself unable to breathe? I couldn’t make sense of him, me, or the situation. In need of liquid escape, I caught the attention of one of the girls in the kitchen pouring shots. As I motioned for service, a girl with ink-blue hair that was styled in a pixie cut picked up her tray. Her white leather miniskirt was so tight, I was sure she thought it was an option for birth control. She overly rocked her body to the music as she approached us, held up the tray of rainbow colored shots and smiled.

I sighed. “You’re my savior, thanks.” Returning a smile back at her, I placed my fingers around the pink cream liquor in the little glass that read,
Slam it and Forget it
. I was now praying for this drink to do just that… make me forget.

Michael took three drinks from the tray. The waitress frowned at him and huffed, spinning away from us on four-inch heels. Her round was going to be pretty quick since we took half the tray. I nodded at Michael, mentally telling him to tip the poor, overworked cheerleader. He sighed and dug into his front pocket, tossing a crumpled wad of money onto her tray. I watched as she sauntered past the bouncers outside the kitchen door, nodding and smiling again. That was when it dawned on me that all the girls serving here tonight were actually from the B-cheerleading squad. Talk about underage sweat shops. Krista was working the girls during her party. I wondered if she promised them a spot at the royal round cheer table.

I was brought back to reality when the guy in front of me coughed after downing the clear shot with the gold flakes. The guy licked his lips in a savor the flavor way. “That one gets me every time, must be the gold. Light can’t live in the dark, right?” He laughed. I didn’t get it and only shrugged at his one-sided joke. Stand-up was not his calling. My tongue felt heavy as I swirled fingers around the rim of the shot glass before wrapping a hand slowly around it. Michael’s face blurred slightly as I forced to refocus.

Michael picked up another shot and held it up, looking at mine. “You gonna make a toast with me or what? I feel awkward holding this up with yours still in your hand.”

I set the drink down, then pulled Tod’s jacket off and placed it over the back of the chair. Throwing my purse on the floor, I cleared my throat while turning back to him and picking the glass up again. “I’ll make you a deal. I will toast with you if you tell me what the hell just happened between us.”

Michael curled his lips. “Deal. To the dimensions I guard. May they once again be in balance.”

“What?” I blurted out. He laughed, guiding our raised glasses together. Both rims clinked when they connected. I nodded slowly and sipped the cool liquid. It rushed into my belly, catching everything inside on fire before sliding across home plate. I was swimming in befuddlement, and now alcohol, as we slammed our glasses down. My voice scratched from the after-burn. “So, what happened?”

“I think you were falling for me.” He held his fingers over the top of the third shot… making rings with his index finger, dipping the tip of it into the glass to put it in his mouth, slowly sucking on it. It turned my gut more than I wanted to let on, so I swiped the drink from under his fingers and made it disappear. I coughed and wheezed trying to make my throat open up. With hands banging on the table, I leaned forward to find my breath. He smacked between my shoulder blades a few times. Then, had he chortled chortle? Or something close to it.

I looked at him through tear-filled eyes and found him holding back laughter. “What made you choke? Upon looking back, the answer I gave you might not have been very truthful or fair of me. My fingers were wandering… well, you understand what I was implying. Oh, I know.” His black eyes flickered in amusement as he continued, “Or could it be from your poor judgment in reaction to the first two?” He kept laughing as he spoke, and then snorted, which normally I find as a cute quality in a guy. This time his voice sounded like mocking. “So you know.” He gestured down at the empty shot glass. “That one, I’m pretty sure was straight Jim Beam.” Michael’s dwindling laughter came to a sudden stop, and he took on a more serious look. “Can I give you some fatherly advice?”

I shrugged and winked, displaying indifference. I was starting to feel flirty, an effect from the sudden rush of sleep elixir. Looking away from him, I noticed Mom’s Coach purse was nowhere on the floor.

My eyelids fluttered. I was feeling a good buzz, but wouldn’t say drunk, yet. I kicked out and glanced around for the purse. Not finding it, I slumped back in the seat. Michael bent down and magically pulled it out from under his chair. I held his actions in question. Leisurely looking at him through mascara lashes, I sighed trying to keep certain thoughts in order. The resulting words were spoken with a slight slur. “Mike, can I call you Mike? Mike, may I ask a personal question? It’s a big one. Do you think you can handle it? I mean, you’re so straightforward with me, figured you wouldn’t mind a few more answers… uh, questions?” Yup, I was feeling it, but before I completely lost my sanity, I needed at least one answer.

He smirked, realizing I had bought a one-way ticket for the smashed express. Michael’s expression spoke volumes. He had nothing to fear from me and my mundane questions.

I took that chance to use some reverse psychology. Scooting the chair closer to him, I maneuvered one knee in between his legs, to create more of an intimate space. Feeling possessed, I found myself creeping up his hard frame, then cupping a hand to his ear. I whispered, “What are you, exactly? You know.” I traced a finger up his leg to get his attention. “Michael, what’s the price to dance with death?”

His body went rigid and his breath caught. “What did you say to me?”

I started laughing in his ear. “I so got you. You thought I was going to fall for one of your lines.” I snorted and rocked back in the chair, placing both hands on my lap and tossing strands of hair back in triumph. Instantly his actions caught me off guard and caused me to sober up a bit.

Clamping down hard on my right wrist, he jerked me toward him. He spoke with his teeth welded shut. Freezing air slithered down my back. “I tire of child sitting. You have no idea who or what I am. Here’s some advice, little Vessel, stay sober and stay pure so I can get back to my real job.” When he let go, I thought I saw flakes of frost where his fingers had touched.

I jumped from the seat as I raised a hand to slap the crap out of him. Instead, I found myself retreating, with one hand still up as a shield. Blackness pulsated through his body, emanating from his head like a shroud or cloak. Blinking several times, the image started to fade. Tomorrow morning it would be a drunken memory.

I made myself break away from his creepy aura. This guy was bad news. Why do the weird ones always find me? I needed to find Tod.

Michael appeared in front of me. Keeping his eyes lowered, he handed the purse back. “Alexcia, I was out of line, I didn’t mean to come on so strong. Sit back down, have another shot, forget what I said before. If you still want your questions answered…” Michael’s words seemed strained as he let the rest of the thought hang in the air.

“I just need to find my boyfriend and maybe get some air.” At that moment, air was a good idea. The clouds rolling through anxious thoughts had turned gray, and I could tell a storm was brewing between us. Twisting from his half committed embrace, I stumbled only to recover methodically putting one foot in front of the other. He yelled over the music, “Don’t go with Tod. You’ll be riding with death and yours will come just as swift.” His reaction was proof this jerk was drunk. I had picked the right time to cut ties with him.

Lost in the sea of bodies, a beacon appeared through the sparked up haze of the room. A familiar face from school, Melanie Crisspike was leaning on a few of Tod’s teammates, Brad especially. This was great. People I knew. They were huddled halfway between me and Tod. At least I would be with familiar people and away from Mr. Creeper. Pushing through the waves, I sensed Michael’s presence right behind me.

I waved and yelled, “Hey, what’s up?”

Mel saw me and returned the gesture. A cool, thick breeze came from out of nowhere, the chill of it felt like a warning. Something grabbed onto me and was slowing down my progress across the dance floor when one of the guys saw I was in trouble and extended his arm—becoming a lifeline. When his beefy fingers entwined in mine, a sigh of relief puffed out, and he pulled me to safety.

The lack of nicotine worked on frayed nerves. I needed to get out of there. Raising my voice as loud as possible over the band, I said, “What’s everyone doing? I think I’m ready for some air.” An anxiety attack threatened to happen as I tried to get Tod’s attention from across the room.

He was surfing the waves of people from the other side of the room. Tod was double pointing to the front of the house in an overly dramatic move. He sang with the band causing me to smile. Then I saw someone hand over his letterman jacket. Oh, Damn. After the Mr. Creeper incident, I didn’t even think twice about it. Crap.

“Where have you been? So much for hanging out.” Smiling, Tod pulled me in close and brushed my lips with a soft kiss before he continued, “There’s a group of us going up to Red Rock for a bonfire. Krista’s brother is buying the beer before heading up there, it was his idea. How about it?”

I pouted. He knew what I thought before I had a chance to say anything. Cupping my face to lock our gaze, he bent down to whisper, “No, Lex-Cee, she’s not coming.” His words were soft. “I heard about what happened in the kitchen and know for a fact Krista’s passed out. She’s still the same and will never change. I know I don’t want that kind of one-sided life anymore.”

Glancing at his letterman jacket, I felt a twinge of guilt for leaving it. When I stared deeply into his eyes, I tried to use the guilt to stir up some kind of emotion. He held up the jacket with questioning eyes. With a coy smile, I took it from him and slipped it back on. Then I found myself rambling. “I’m sorry. I’m not used to having it. I took it off after dancing. It was so hot, ya know? I didn’t mean to leave it.” My incoherent button was jammed, pathetic. Damn, if anything, loose lips meant I was trying too hard. Moving past
I like you
should have come naturally… the way breathing happens. Why couldn’t love be the same way for me?