Christopher just wouldn’t give up. He bugged me all through lunch to the point where I had to hide in the girls’ toilets just to get away from him, his incessant need to get me to talk to his grandfather infuriating. And now he was kerb crawling, following me up the hill towards my home like some crazy stalker. I’d skipped out on my last class to avoid him, but he’d found me. It made me wonder whether my rosary was some sort of homing beacon, or maybe I was, the boy locked onto me. Still, I was an idiot for leaving school. Sister Cecile had warned me not to be alone, that she would pick me up from school, but I’d had just about enough of Christopher getting in my face, the guy giving me one monstrous headache.
He planted his hand on the horn, almost blasting me out of my runners. I spun around and stalked over to his car, yanking the passenger door open. I lowered my head and glared at him through the door. “Do you know what you are? An A-Grade stalker. I should report you to the police.”
“Just get in the car,” he said, glaring back at me.
“How many times do I have to tell you to leave me the hell alone?”
“Too many, so get in the car.”
“I threatened your grandfather—”
“You’re in more danger of him than the other way around, so get in the fucking car! I want to make sure you get home safely.”
My eyebrows quirked up. “So, this following me around is to protect me?” I said, not sure I believed him.
“Sì, I don’t trust my grandfather. He’s the type that says things to get people off his back, then goes and does what he wants. So, last time, get in the damn car if you don’t want his black Beemer following you instead.”
I exhaled and hopped in begrudgingly. “I don’t know why you’re so intent on helping me.”
“I don’t want you dead. Isn’t that enough of a reason why?”
I grunted and shut the door.
“So, where’s your place?” he asked.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “You don’t already know, stalker?”
“I was just being polite.” A small smile broke through his grumpy expression. Even when grumpy he looked beautiful, making me want to stare. I forced my gaze away, having stared enough at him to fuel his ego for a lifetime.
He continued, “And yeah, I do know where your house is, cara.”
I kept my gaze straight ahead as he pulled away from the kerb. “I’m not your cara, but you’re definitely my stalker.”
“Only because I like you.”
My gaze moved back to him. “That’s not an excuse.”
“I wasn’t saying it was.”
“Have you been following me around other times?”
“Only that time I shot in front of you. Contrary to what you think, I’m not that desperate to get into your knickers.”
I scowled at him. “Did you have to word it that way?”
A laugh escaped his lips. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about fucking me with the way you rolled me over. Talk about aggressive.”
“So, when a guy does what he wants it’s okay, but when a girl does the same thing it’s not?”
“Hell no! I’m more than okay with it.” He threw me a smirk. “I’ll let you go on top anytime you want.”
“Shut up and drive.”
He sniggered. “Forty-four, or should I say six-nine, here we come.” He sniggered some more.
“Shut up, smartass, and I’m not going home, I have to go to Granger Road,” I said, needing to start my lessons with Sister Cecile. I could just explain to her that I’d gotten a lift with a friend, which wasn’t a total lie, Christopher acting friendly right now.
Christopher turned left onto my road, passing my tan brick and white Hollowstone block house. “I know where that is,” he said, “it’s the same road where Star of the Sea primary school is.”
“I need to go to the house next door to Star of the Sea.”
He glanced at me. “Why do you need to go there?”
“None of your business.”
He scowled. “You don’t need to be rude all the time.”
“If you object so much, don’t give me a ride.”
He exhaled. “I want to give you one. I just wish you didn’t mind me giving it to you.”
“Is that some sort of sexual innuendo?”
His smile returned. “No, but I’m happy to turn it into one.”
I shook my head, the guy impossible.
“Are you going to confirmation class tonight?” he asked, thankfully changing the topic. “Janet can’t make it on Sunday, so she moved it for this week.”
“Yeah, I’m going.”
“Do you want a lift? I can pick you up.”
“Are you handing in your stalker card for a bodyguard one?”
He smirked. “I can also be your personal trainer and masseur. I’m good with my hands.” He lifted them off the wheel, making the car swerve.
I yelled out, “Hands on the wheel!”
He kept them off it, but the car straightened, Christopher not using his hands to drive.
“What the hell?” I said, stunned.
He laughed and put his hands back on the steering wheel. “It’s a trick I learned from my…” He cut himself off, not saying who it was, although I pretty much guessed it was his grandfather.
“How did you do that?” I asked. “I thought you had to touch a bead to do magic.”
“Nah, I’m not a Terra. My knees are controlling the wheel.” He let go of the steering wheel again and nodded at his lap.
I looked down, noticing he was using his knees to steer the car. I scowled at him. “Stop that, it’s dangerous.”
He sniggered and put his hands back on the wheel, slowing down for a roundabout.
“What’s a Terror?” I asked. “Sounds bad.”
“No, they’re called Terras. They’re the keepers of the wine rosaries. They can control objects.”
I sat up straighter, remembering he’d mentioned other types of Merges the previous time he’d given me a lift.
“Are they good?” I asked.
He took a right around the roundabout. “Most of the time,” he said, paying attention to the traffic, not me. “You might get the occasional arsehole Terra, but overall, they’re all right. Well, the angel ones are, definitely not the demon ones. Luckily, I’ve never run into one of those bastards. I’ve only ever had problems with Marises and fellow Seraphim. The Seraphim tend to have the worst tempers.” He smirked. “But are the hottest lovers.”
“Har de har, har, your humour kills me.”
He shrugged. “There’s always a critic.”
He continued down the slope, the road dipping and veering up again in a U shape. I turned to look out the window as we passed Agnaru Cemetery, where my grandparents were buried, along with my twin. I closed my eyes for a moment, willing myself not to think about Vesna, because it always made me want to cry. After I had myself under control, I reopened my eyes, remaining quiet as Christopher continued onwards, the road eventually leading onto Granger Road. I pointed to the little cream-coloured cottage sitting next to my old Spanish-styled primary school. He pulled the car into the driveway, bringing it to a halt just outside Sister Cecile’s home.
Switching off the ignition, he turned to me. “Do you want me to pick you up from here or your house?”
I frowned at him, the guy definitely related to Stephen. They both never gave up. “Did I say yes to the ride to confirmation? I don’t think so.”
He gave me a crooked grin. “I’m still going to turn up, so unless you don’t want me banging on your front door, you’ll say yes.”
I grunted. “Man, you’re persistent.”
“Don’t usually have to be. Girls normally just say yes, please,” he said, putting on a girly voice.
I snorted out a laugh. “You can pick me up from my house, then,” I replied, not believing I was agreeing to another lift from him.
His smile widened, the expression endearing. Beautiful. For a second I wondered why I was giving him such a hard time, then remembered. His grandfather. But before I could push the door open and get out, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on my lips. All thought of his grandfather disappeared in an instant. I nipped his bottom lip, but not to get him to stop, but to get him to open his mouth. And he did, his expression surprised. Although he shouldn’t be, since I’d bitten his bottom lip before. He was quickly becoming an addiction, something I knew was bad for me, but couldn’t resist. It frustrated the hell out of me, because no matter how hard I pushed him away with one hand, my other was working against me, yanking him back for just one more taste. Then a second, a third, and ... oh dear Lord, he tasted soooo gooooood!
I slipped my tongue inside his mouth, seeing his surprise quickly morph into lust. But I wasn’t just seeing it, I was feeling it. The air around us was practically crackling with electricity. We both grabbed for each other’s heads at the same time, our tongues clashing. I could practically taste the hunger rolling off him, lust and desire, fire and ice steaming up the car.
Then it stopped.
He let go of my head and pulled away. He went to say something, but I didn’t want to talk.
I wanted to kiss.
I grabbed his head again, tangling my fingers in his silken black hair.
He jerked his head to the side, avoiding my kiss. “Stop, Catherine,” he said, wincing at the pull on his hair.
Not understanding, I let go. “Why?” I asked, wondering whether he was paying me back.
His gaze moved past me. I turned to see what had caught his attention, jumping at the sight of Sister Cecile. She was standing on the other side of my window with a hell hath no fury expression.
She yanked my door open with more power than I would give credit to an old lady. “Out!” she barked like a sergeant major.
I glanced back at Christopher. “Guess I’ll see you later.”
He nodded, his eyes still on the nun, a look of wariness tempering his expression.
I hopped out of the car. As soon as my door was closed, Christopher backed out of the driveway like he couldn’t get away fast enough. The sea spread out behind him, the sun sewing a sparkly pattern across the crystal-clear water. But I couldn’t enjoy the scenery, Sister Cecile snapping at me already.
“Who is that boy?” she asked, her ancient face not hiding her disapproval.
“Christopher Laboure.”
Her eyes widened. “And you got in a car alone with him? Why would you do that? I told you I was going to pick you up.”
“I changed my mind about staying at school.”
“You can’t just skip out of school.”
“I have a bad headache. My mum didn’t even want me to go, so skipping out isn’t a big deal.”
“Getting a ride with a murderer’s grandson is a big deal!”
I winced at her shout. “I’m not lying about the headache.”
“Headaches will go away, while doing foolish things will get you killed.”
“Look, Chris is all right. After all, he did save my life, and he only gave me a lift to make sure his grandfather didn’t follow me. And it’s not his fault that his grandfather’s a psychotic murderer.”
“Do you even hear yourself speak?” she asked, looking like she thought I was insane. Maybe I was.
I shrugged. “As I said, he did save my life.”
Her expression turned sceptical. “You truly trust this boy?”
“Why shouldn’t I? He went against his grandfather for me.”
“It doesn’t mean he’ll always side with you. And you shouldn’t be kissing him.”
“Why not?” I asked, although she had a good point, especially since I was trying to push him away. It really wasn’t fair on Christopher, because I was definitely giving him mixed messages. One second I didn’t want to be anywhere near him, the next I wanted to climb him like a tree.
Sister Cecile continued, “He’s the enemy, not to mention it’s inappropriate.”
“I just told you he’s not my enemy and it’s not inappropriate to kiss a boy. We’re not in whatever century you were born in, you know.”
Her eyes widened. “Show some respect!”
I winced, my mouth having run off before my brain had sensed the freefall. “Sorry, my mouth and brain don’t always work in unison, plus you did say Merges don’t age the same as humans, so you could be centuries old for all I know. Are you?”
“No! I’m eighty-nine.”
“But, you said Merges are supposed to live longer and age well.”
Her eyes went even wider.
“Oh, no, no,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t mean you look old,” even though you do, “you just don’t look any different from a human of the same age.”
“Enough about my age! Get inside now,” she said gruffly, the woman so freaking sensitive it wasn’t funny.
When I didn’t move straight away, she indicated to her house with an angry jab. I sighed and headed for it. She shuffled past me, her hunch even more pronounced than the last time I’d seen her, making me think of the hunchback of Notre Dame. I followed her into her little lounge. She sat down on the old couch and picked up a large red book off the coffee table. I locked the front door and took the seat next to her, wrinkling my nose at the eau de mothball fragrance permeating the place.
“You do realise you’re literally playing with fire with that boy,” she said, placing the book on her lap.
“I tried to avoid him, but he always finds me, so I might as well just learn to deal with him.”
Her frown didn’t lessen. “The way you were dealing with him in his car was highly inappropriate. You two were practically...” She cleared her throat, looking deeply uncomfortable. “Just don’t do it again,” she said, waggling a finger at me as if I was a naughty little girl. Though, it wouldn’t surprise me if she still thought of me as one.
She continued in her you’re-a-naughty-little-girl-and-need-to-be-told-off voice. “If you give in so easily with Christopher, you don’t have a chance against my father.”
“They’re not the same,” I said, ignoring what she’d said about Reprebus being her father, that titbit still hard to fathom. “Chris is a good guy.”
“While his grandfather’s evil. He’ll use the boy to get at you, which means you’re now even more exposed. And if Christopher is truly, genuinely wanting to have a relationship with you, you can’t ever go to his house, or share the things that are the most important to him, because my father will attack you at the first opportunity he gets.”
“But… I’m going to have to face Reprebus sooner or later,” I said, not wanting to, but knowing I didn’t have a say in the matter. “That’s why I need your help, not criticism.”
Sister Cecile grunted. “Although I do not agree with you, I will not bother you about this matter any further, since we need to get to your lessons without delay. But, Catherine, please be extra careful when you’re with that boy. And one more thing, his grandfather is my father, while I’m your great auntie. Do you realise what that means?”
I stared at her for a moment, then my eyes went big. “Holy shit! That would make Chris a relative.”
She winced at my choice of words. “Yes, Christopher is my nephew, while you’re my great grandniece.”
“Whoa,” I said. “But it’s still not close enough to be like gross. Not like first cousins. It’s distant.”
“Still related.”
“Doesn’t bother me. My parents are third and fourth cousins, I even have one set of great grandparents that are first cousins.”
She stared at me blankly.
I continued, “Go back a few centuries in my family’s timeline and you’ll find my mum and dad are descended from siblings.”
Her eyes widened.
“Oh, no, no, no,” I quickly said, realising she’d gotten the wrong idea. “The siblings didn’t do the deed, they married other people. My dad is descended from the sister, while my mum comes from the brother.” I shrugged. “That’s just the way things are when you’re from a small island. Everyone’s related somehow. Though, it’s kind of cool that my parents met in New Zealand, not Yugoslavia. Sort of like it was meant to be. Kismet.”
She continued to stare at me, what I’d said obviously leaving her speechless. I didn’t care, just wanted my lesson, not judgement.
I tapped the book. “My lesson?”
She blinked, then nodded, opening the book to page one.