Intuition: The Premonition Series (9 page)

“Buns, I think you missed out on snowboarding tonight,” I say, entering the cottage and taking off my coat. “The lifts are all shutting down for the night.” When Zephyr hears this, he lets out a deep chuckle like I’ve said something funny again.

“Sweetie, we don’t need lifts,” she says, and to make her point, her wings spring from her back, so that she looks like some kind of wood nymph in front of me. “And we can’t really have as much fun in the daylight as we can in the dark. No one can see us out there at night with the lights off. It will be stylin’, you’ll see,” Buns says, leading me toward my room. “Now, get ready and we’ll head out.”

As I pass by their bedroom on the way by to mine, I glance in and freeze. Every piece of furniture has been knocked over except for the bed that has seen better days, I’m sure. The room is a compete mess. I blush a little and continue on to my room, saying under my breath, “What are you guys, rock stars or something?” To which, the room behind me erupts in laughter as Zephyr and Reed hear my comment.

I quickly change into a snowboarding outfit and put on my soft boots. When I exit my room, I meet the angels in the main room near the fireplace, where they are already outfitted and lounging around waiting for me. Each of them is wearing a long sleeved shirt with some boarding pants, except for Buns, who has on a sweater similar to mine in design that can accommodate her wings in the back. “Okay, this should be interesting,” I comment, beginning to feel like I may have trash talked a little too early in the game.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun,” Reed says, while walking me to the door of the cottage. On the porch outside, Reed hands our snowboards to Zephyr, saying, “Here, make yourself useful.”

“Buns, tell him how useful I can be” Zephyr comments to Buns.

“Sweetie, you’re very useful to me,” Buns says, beaming at him while holding her board. In an instant, she extends her shimmering golden butterfly wings and launches herself into the air, disappearing from sight.

“See,
very
useful,” Zephyr says, taking off his shirt to tie it around his waist. Giving me a wink, he too, sprouts his impressive light brown wings, moving with unrestrained power and agility. Zephyr lifts our boards in his arms, and like Buns before him, springs into the air and is gone in a fraction of a second.

I turn to Reed, watching as he takes off his shirt, just as Zee had done, to wrap it around his waist. “Are you ready?” Reed asks as his head dips to nuzzle my neck, causing the heat to intensify in an instant.

“Mmm,” I manage to respond. Reed springs effortlessly into the air, cradling me in his arms. Flying through the dark of night, we seem to be going even faster than before, whirling through the trees following the path we had walked just hours ago. A small squeak of fear bursts from me as a tall, pine tree with a trunk the width of an SUV looms before us. Reed narrowly avoids it at the last possible second. “Let’s try not to scare the half-human, okay?” I ask him when I can again speak.

He laughs before saying, “Sorry.” We reach the summit of the hill in no time at all and find Buns and Zephyr waiting for us with their boards already on. The snowboarding halfpipe, handrails, kickers and other jumps are all located on the opposite side of the hill. I look around, psyched, because we don’t have to maneuver or jockey for a good position, since we’re completely alone.

Buns is the only goofy-footed rider among us, since she rides with her right foot closest to the nose of the snowboard, but it’s great for me, since I can face her and talk to her without having to fakie on the way over to the halfpipe. All the boards that we have with us are twin tipped, so that the board will ride equally well in both directions. “My board is dialed in, Buns. Reed really knows what he’s about when it come to boarding, huh?” I ask her.

“Sweetie, Powers have a lot of time to kill. They have to find ways to fill it when they aren’t waiting for their prey to make a move. This is a nice distraction from the boredom,” she says.

Standing next to Reed on the coping of the halfpipe, I look down the wall to the flat bottom below. “The snow looks bullet-proof,” I say, because the snow in the halfpipe looks super hard.

“Yes,” he agrees, giving me an evil grin because he knows it will be fast. “Are you ready to—how did you term it? Smoke me?” he asks, looking down at me, and I know I am in trouble because he is probably stellar at this.

“Yeah, I’m ready. Just keep in mind that I only have four limbs that work, while you have six. I’m working with a handicap here.”

“Duly noted. Let’s see what you’ve got, Betty,” Reed says, smiling again.

“Okay,” I reply, and then turn, dropping into the pipe. Hitting my backside wall first, I traverse the pipe a couple of times just doing poptarts to get a feel for the snow. On the third transition, I pump my board hard, trying to build up speed. When I go vertical and catch air, I perform a trick called a Japan; grabbing the front toe edge of the board with my front hand, I tuck my front knee and pull the board up while arching my back. When I drop back into the pipe, I have to roll down the windows a little to maintain my balance so I won’t do a face plant. Just when I know I have my balance back, Reed who had dropped into the pipe and rode the flat to get to me, sweeps me up off the snow and into his arms.

“Need a ride back up?” he asks, attempting to cover up his over-reaction to the garage sale I almost had on re-entry.

“Sure, but you know that I’ve wiped out before. I’ll survive if I fall down,” I say, smiling as he flies me back to the top of the halfpipe.

“You may survive it, I may not,” he says effacingly. “That trick was good. What is it called?” Reed asks me.

“Japan,” I reply. “I want to see Paradise though, are you ready to show me?” I ask, sizing him up when he puts me down on the wall of the halfpipe.

“It would be my pleasure,” he says, grinning evilly again. I have to say that I have high expectations when I watch him drop into the pipe. My expectations do not even touch the sickest part of Reed’s session. It is so unbelievable because there are no names for the stunts he can pull off. I think he does a modified version of a McTwist at one point, but there are so many rotations involved, at least 1440 degrees that I can’t count them all.

When Reed flies back up to me again, I feel like I am looking at a snowboarding god, not an angel. “Seriously Reed, I’ll never trash talk you again. That’s just insane what you can do.” He must like the praise because he pulls me into his arms and hugs me.

“Evie, he is a poseur compared to me. Watch this!” Zephyr says, dropping in the pipe. Again, I freak out as Zee seems to defy the laws of physics with his tricks. The raw power in the rotations and flips are just plain wicked.

Buns has a different style entirely from the guys. Whereas they’re power and precision, whipping out deadly maneuvers, Buns is grace and refinement. Her tricks are all stalled, so that she hangs in the air effortlessly as she gracefully extends her limbs. You can see the supple way she bends her body in intricate moves that makes her appear to be posing in midair. I want to learn how to do what she does, but I don’t know if I can ever pull it off because her wings seem to float while mine are built more for raw power and speed, kind of like the Power angels’.

“Buns, that was completely gnarly. It was like watching a ballerina snowboard,” I say, because that is the best description I can come up with for what she can do. We sit together on the wall of the halfpipe, watching Reed and Zee defy gravity with their tricks.

“Sweetie, when you can use your wings, you’ll make what we can do look grody by comparison,” Buns says with confidence.

“Highly doubtful, Buns, but thanks,” I say.

“No, Evie, that wasn’t an opinion, that is a fact. You are Seraphim, you’ll be incredible at everything you do, not just this.” I must look skeptical because she adds, “Seraphim are God’s personal guardians. You’re built for speed, strength, agility, power and cunning. Every other angel wants to be Seraphim and you go one step further. You are endowed with a soul, which makes you one of God’s children.”

“If I’m so great, why is it that every angel I meet wants to kill me, with the exception of you and Brownie, of course?” I ask.

“You’re taboo in a way. You’re one of the elements the Fallen wanted all along,” Buns replies. When she sees my confusion, she goes on. “Some demanded souls, so they could be like humans, like God’s children. In Paradise, angels take care of the souls, but the Fallen thought that we should get rid of the humans and take their souls, so that we can be the children of God.” Goose bumps break out on my arms as I begin to understand what she’s telling me. “But there were others that were far worse—they craved to be above God. To rule over God and His dominion.”

“So some might think that I somehow succeeded where the Fallen had failed,” I say. “Or…that the Fallen have succeeded and I’m the product of that success,” I say cringing.

“Yes. You cause all sorts of thoughts to fly through an angel’s psyche. But I want you to understand something about yourself, Evie. You’re so compelling to us and at the same time we find you very dangerous. We do not find you disgusting, but just the opposite, you are ideal—a model of perfection. Some will wonder what will happen to us, the soulless, if you are the new standard of being,” she says in a quiet way.

“I think I get what you’re saying, angels already have to compete with humans for God’s affection. What happens when you add someone like me to the mix?” I say, and flop back to lie on the ground with my feet dangling over the halfpipe.

I look at the stars above my head, trying to sort it out, but I can’t. If this is a debate, there are as many reasons to destroy me, as there are to protect me.
Maybe even more to destroy,
I think as fear leaks into my consciousness. But it’s strange that I’m not so much afraid of what could happen to me, as much as I am afraid of what could happen to the ones who would fight to protect me. The size of the problem I face makes me feel physically drained.
How am I going to keep everyone safe?
I think as I lie on the ground.

A yawn escapes me then and I try to cover it up, so that Buns won’t see it, but she catches me. “Oh, sweetie, you’re tired aren’t you?” she asks, while popping up off the edge of the wall. “I’ll tell the Powers you need to go back now,” she says. She drops in the halfpipe to get them before I can lie and say I am fine.

Almost instantly, Reed is above me, blocking out the stars from my vision. “Hi,” I say, smiling up at him.

“I forget you need more sleep than we do. I’ll get you back to the cottage, so you can rest,” Reed says, scooping me up off the ground and brushing the snow off me like I am a child. I smile at him and think that there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for him.

Reed flies me back to the cottage and the bliss of being held by him is enough to keep me awake until we arrive. I don’t have much energy left in me for more than a good night kiss at the doorway of my room. I stumble in and change before crashing beneath the warm comforter on my soft bed.

CHAPTER 4

Snowboarding

The angels surrounding me are making me feel off kilter; their actions remind me of lethal soldier wasps, like I am trapped inside of a hive with the swarm. Stirred into a frenzied commotion by an invader, me, these angels aren’t even attempting to veil their hostility. But, something’s missing
—
it is the sound that should accompany such a scene. It lacks the humming buzz that would reveal this place for what it truly is, a horrifying nest of killers.

Walking forward, my heart hammers in my chest as a soldier behind me prods me to follow the Power angels ahead of us. They are moving slowly, disturbed by my presence, and therefore, inclined to cast haunted glances in my direction. A low, angry growl escapes from one of them as his eyes fall on me, making certain that I am still following them. He is having trouble reconciling what it is he sees trailing him. Since I am beyond caring about what any of them thinks of me, I ignore him to reserve all my strength for what lies ahead
—
my execution.

As they lead me further into an exquisite, Renaissance-style reception room, we walk to a set of double doors near the back. These doors, it appears, will take us deeper into the “hive.” Glancing around the museum-like chamber, I notice a beautiful gilded mirror encompassing a large portion of the foyer. Spying my reflection within the glass, I pause. I no longer look like me
—
the image in the mirror isn’t a girl
—
she is a Seraph with crimson wings, fiery auburn hair, and the fierce expression of an avenging angel.

I awake from the nightmare with the worst sense of dread that I’ve ever felt. The fear that this nightmare engenders can’t compare with any that I’ve had thus far. Even though it lacks any of the gore of the others, there is such an intense sense of loss and finality to it that makes me feel like I’m drowning in grief—rage.

Stumbling out of bed disoriented, I shuffle to the kitchen of the small cottage to get a glass of water from the sink. As I sip it, I rub my hand over my forehead, trying to wipe away the images that still linger from the dream. Wondering how I’m ever going to go back to sleep after that dream, I hear Reed say, “That bad, huh?”

Startled by his voice, I drop my glass. But, the glass doesn’t shatter because Reed is in front of me in an instant. He catches it before it hits the ground without spilling a drop of water. “You scared me. I thought you were asleep.” I say, recovering from the shock of seeing him defy gravity once again.