Supernova (8 page)

That marking on his shoulder, she could’ve sworn that she knew it from somewhere. She made a mental note to question him later. There was a lot she needed to know: what that mark was, how he came to be living with her grandmother, why he was wearing the bracelet she made, why he had sworn to protect her, but most pressing was how her body could react to his so intensely when she didn’t even know him. She had a feeling that mysterious man had all the answers she was seeking. She was going to pry it out of him if it was the last thing she ever did.

It had been a week since Availia’s funeral. Priscilla and Hudson worked tirelessly to help Kerrigan and Gabe get the house in order. All of their things were moved in, their new rooms set up, and all the household affairs were switched into Kerrigan’s name. With everything done, Hudson and Priscilla would be leaving the next morning. Kerrigan and Gabe would finally be on their own without the constant supervision of her parents. While she relished the freedom that was to come, she just couldn’t seem to relax. She hadn’t slept well all week. Instead, she tossed and turned with every creak and groan of the old house. It was eerie, but familiar.

She hadn’t had a chance to talk to Dominic all week. There was the occasional fleeting glance or passing pleasantry, but for the most part, he remained in his room. She could hear him pacing back and forth like a caged animal every night, and she couldn’t fathom why he seemed to be so irritable and frustrated. Sometimes she even heard the crash of what sounded like something being thrown around, but she didn’t dare go check on him. He was entitled to his privacy, and she didn’t know him well enough to invade his space.

The tantrums came and went, replaced by the occasional strumming of a guitar or the sound of bluesy rock music filtering from his stereo speakers and seeping into her bedroom. The music had a calming feel, like the quiet murmurings of a lullaby soothing her off to sleep as if she were a newborn babe. However, her peaceful slumber was always short lived.

She would awaken to absolute silence. No pacing, no music, no sounds of Dominic’s tantrums ringing through the air. It was during those periods of stillness that she had the strongest urge to go to him. But she didn’t.

Kerrigan knew she would have to approach him eventually. There were still so many unanswered questions, and they only seemed to be growing in number. However, she reasoned that it would be best to wait until her mother and father were gone before interrogating him. Perhaps he would be more liberal with his answers if there weren’t so many strangers in the house. Parents could be intimidating, no matter what your age.

It had rained earlier in the day, easing the heaviness of the muggy air. So before bed, she opted to leave the door to her terrace open to let the light, albeit warm, wind filter into her room. A gentle ocean breeze flowed in through the opening, stirring the air and enveloping her with its clean, salty scent. She should have been content, but like most nights, sleep still evaded her.

Something was very different about the house. Something cold and foreboding.

Dominic’s light steps above and the soothing melody of his music had long since ceased, so she was sure he was fast asleep. In fact, the whole house was out. A couple of hours into her restlessness, Kerrigan heard light footsteps and the familiar creaking of the old wooden floor outside her door. It was as if someone was pacing back and forth there. Unwilling to get out of bed to check it out, she remained still and just listened.

When the sounds left the hallway and crept inside her room, Kerrigan sat straight up in bed, her eyes scanning the room to find the source. The temperature dropped noticeably, and she felt her skin pebble as an icy chill ghosted across her flesh. Her warm breath came out in thin, white puffs like she was still in Chicago, standing outside in the middle of winter. Seeking warmth, she crossed her arms over her chest and began to rub them with her hands.

The sound of footsteps drifted from her doorway, across the floor until it reached the corner of her bed where they stopped. Kerrigan sat still, staring in the direction of the last step she heard.

“Who’s there?” her shaky voice asked the empty room.

She could’ve sworn she heard a slight sigh in response, and her heart rate accelerated with fear. Her mind was playing tricks on her, convincing her that she was being watched by someone or something. There was enough moonlight streaming in from outside to adequately illuminate the room, so she could see that she was alone.

“Get a hold of yourself, Kerrigan, you’re freaking yourself out. There’s no one there.” She ran her hands over her face, half laughing at her overactive imagination.

Two more steps came closer to where she was. Her head shot in their direction. She watched in silent horror, her eyes trained to the spot beside her where the mattress depressed on its own as if someone had just taken a seat. That would have been enough to send any normal person screaming and bolting for the door, but Kerrigan was paralyzed with fear.

Another sigh sounded next to her ear, and she felt a cool stream of icy air across the sensitive skin of her neck. She wasn’t sure what was different about it, but she was no longer afraid. She closed her eyes, relishing the comfort of the unseen presence. A light touch caressed her cheek and then pushed an errant strand of hair that had escaped her messy bun back from her face.

“Grammy?” Her grandmother had taught her many things about the supernatural world during their time together, including her belief that ghosts were real. If that was true, the safety she was feeling then could only be made possible by her grandmother.

A sultry deep voice, which definitely did not belong to her grandmother, drifted across the shell of her ear. “Muy bonita…”

Kerrigan’s eyes shot open, and the touch was instantly gone. The room grew warm again. The moment was lost, like it had never even happened. She jumped from the bed and ran toward the door, chasing after whatever it was she had just encountered and frightened off. She threw the door open and stopped to listen for evidence as to which direction the presence went before tip-toeing down the hallway on bare feet. A light tapping on the wall just a few feet away caused her ears to perk up. She quickly looked in that direction, still not seeing anything. Curious, she continued down the darkened hall.

Curiosity killed the cat, Kerrigan
, she thought to herself.

A lump formed in her throat when the light tapping led her all the way to the end of the corridor where she found herself standing in front of her grandmother’s bedroom door. Inhaling deeply through her nose and out through her mouth, Kerrigan summoned the courage she needed to face what she hadn’t had the strength to face up until that point.

Going into her grandmother’s room should have been an easy thing for her to do, but every time she considered it, her chest felt constricted and she began to tremble with apprehension. It was like she was afraid to see that her grandmother really wasn’t there anymore, and Kerrigan just didn’t know if she could handle the finality of it all. She had avoided it like the plague, begging her mother to take various boxes in there to store for her instead.

But someone, or some
thing
, had led her there for a reason. Believing nothing inside the house where she had always felt the safest would do her harm, Kerrigan pulled her shoulders back and swallowed her fears. She reached a timid hand toward the knob before pulling it back at the last minute, unable to follow through. Just when she started to turn with the intent of retreating to the safety of her own room, the knob turned, and the door inched opened on its own.

“Se valiente, guardián de mi alma,” a familiar voice whispered into her ear.

She recognized the Spanish cadence of the words, and although she had no idea what the words meant, she felt a renewed strength. The dream she had the night her grandmother passed away seemed to be replaying itself; a timid girl standing in front of the door, the voice of an alluring stranger giving her strength and encouraging her to go inside. It was familiar and comforting, and it gave her the confidence she needed to step through the threshold.

Once inside, Kerrigan heard the soft click of the door closing behind her, but she wasn’t scared. She stood frozen, immersed in the sights, sounds, and smells of her grandmother that permeated the bedroom. Her presence was evident in every nook and cranny of that old house, but it was strongest there in the room that held the highest concentration of everything that was Grammy.

Kerrigan began to walk around the room, pausing to let her fingers drift over the quilt that lay folded at the foot of the bed, undisturbed. Then she went over to the vanity and sat down on the bench. Looking into the mirror, she remembered the scene from the dream once again. The way her grandmother looked at her through that very same looking glass, gazing at her granddaughter as if the sun rose and set in her eyes. Nostalgia set in, and she felt an urgent need for her grandmother’s company as she replayed cherished memories of her childhood.

She could hear her own ghostly child-like giggle that emanated from a younger version of herself. She and her grandmother had always held hands while spinning in a circle, humming
This Little Light of Mine
. She stood up and moved toward the center of the room, smiling as she replicated the memory and spun around with her hands outstretched toward a make-believe Grammy. She hummed along with the melody, feeling herself becoming giddier with each pass. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the window. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she stopped spinning, cautiously approaching it.

She could almost hear the mad flapping of the ravens’ wings when she recalled the way they swarmed the room in her dream. A chill of fear trembled down her spine. She pushed the remnants of the nightmare from her mind and brought her hand up to touch the cold glass. Her fingertips drifted down the pane until they came to rest on the latches. The shutters opened effortlessly, and she gazed down into the garden; the sole reason Grammy had chosen that room as her own.

The ample light provided by the moon allowed her to see her grandmother’s prized Corral Seas Passion Flower vines that thrived in the backyard. The flower wasn’t native to Florida, and in theory, shouldn’t have been able to grow there, but Availia had boasted that the Cruz land was special, magical even. She remembered that many of Availia’s neighbors had taken pieces of the vine in an attempt to cultivate the plant themselves, but none of them had been successful. Judging by the knowing smile Availia always gave them, Kerrigan knew that it was no surprise to her when their attempts failed. Kerrigan giggled a little to herself, realizing for the first time that her grandmother must have gotten a kick out of watching their futile attempts.

She scanned the rest of the yard, and her heart nearly jumped out of her chest when she found the old magnolia tree. One branch hung limply onto the ground, the obvious markings of a lightning strike at the place where it split from the tree trunk. It was the very same limb that had been afflicted in her nightmare. She took a step back with her mouth agape just as a breeze picked up and, riding upon it, a lone black raven’s feather drifted in through the opened window.

Kerrigan wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to get the hell out of there.

When she was about to make her escape, the humming of their song became louder. No longer the sound of a distant memory, but much closer. Behind her. She turned around, and the sight in front of her sent her barreling backward toward the open window. An invisible hand shot out and grabbed her arm, pulling her to safety before she could fall to her death. Once she caught her breath, she made her way over to the bed on shaky legs, and sat down before finding the courage to speak.

“Grammy?” She looked into her grandmother’s crystal blue eyes as she sat next to her.

Availia smiled warmly at her granddaughter, her long white hair creating a halo around her angelic face. She patted Kerrigan’s hand. “I’m sorry, Sunshine. I didn’t mean to frighten you. How are you, dear? Are you settling in well?” she asked as if it were just any normal visit.

“No. I mean, yeah, I’m fine,” Kerrigan stuttered. “I miss you.” She choked back sobs, embracing the one person she longed for above all others.

She was so happy to see her grandmother that her confusion over everything else was almost forgotten. Kerrigan was so astonished by how solid her grandmother felt, not at all like the apparition she thought she would be. She almost questioned whether or not she had actually died at all.

“I miss you, too.” Availia held her granddaughter and rubbed her back in a soothing motion. “But, I’m always here, Sunshine. Even when you can’t see me, I’m watching over you.”

“Grammy, I have so many questions,” Kerrigan began in a rush.

“Shh, I know,” Availia interrupted her. “We have little time, but I will try to answer as many as I can before our time is up. Now, where would you like to start?”

“Why is Dominic here? Why is he so important to you? Have I met him before? Because there’s just something so familiar about him. It’s like I know him when it’s just not possible that I do.” Kerrigan stopped suddenly, realizing that she sounded like a raving lunatic. She took a deep breath before she continued. “What’s going on here, Grammy?”