Chapter 6
"Knock knock," I called as I pushed open the door, careful to keep the two coffees I was carrying balanced.
Thomas looked up from the array of papers on his desk, a slightly surprised look on his face. "Hey! I thought you weren't getting back from Gardenia until tomorrow."
"I wasn't. But my parents and I ended up going out for my dad's birthday last night, so we didn't have any other plans. Plus Gaby emailed me about the illustrations for some new book involving rainforests, and Josie for some reason doesn't get along with the author… Long story short, I figured it'd save everyone a whole lot of headache if I just came back early."
He laughed and reached up to take the extra coffee from me. "What would we do without you, darling?"
"Crash and burn." I smiled and gave him a quick kiss. "I missed you. Three days without your sarcasm – I almost started making decent jokes again."
"Ah, well we'll cure you of that in no time, love." He smirked, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me onto his lap. I giggled, leaning back against his chest and resting my head in the curve of his shoulder. "I missed you too," he said in a low voice, leaning down to give me a real kiss.
Tingles raced down my spine and I closed my eyes, winding my arms around his neck as I kissed him back. It occurred to me how wildly inappropriate this would look to anyone who might happen to be passing by – did I leave the door open? I think I did – but as quickly as the thought had entered my head, it vanished. Gaby had already given us her seal of approval, and who cared what anyone else thought? For the first time in far too long, I was happy. Shouldn't I be allowed to enjoy it?
I was breathless when he finally pulled back, resting his forehead against mine; his eyes were wide and dark with desire, and it made my heart skip a beat. Oh yes, I missed this. "You could've come, you know," I said, straightening up and trying to regain at least a modicum of composure.
He chuckled a little, going back to his desk. "Hey, it was your dad's birthday. The last thing I wanted to do was impose."
"You're my boyfriend. It's your job to impose on family gatherings. Besides, my parents will probably want to meet you at some point – they're thrilled I'm dating again."
They're also thrilled this one isn't a prince, I added in my head, smirking at the thought.
Thomas didn't seem to notice, suddenly very occupied with the papers on his desk. "It's only been a month since we started dating, Bloom. Isn't that a bit too soon to be dragging me to an interrogation at your parents' house? I remember you telling me about how your dad scared the crap out of your first boyfriend… what was his name?"
"Andy," I said, smiling a little at the memory. I'd never seen anyone – especially a boy – look so terrified in his life.
"Uh-huh. And there's that evil twinkle in your eye that makes me feel like I should wait years to meet them, never mind another few months."
I laughed and hit his shoulder playfully. "They aren't that bad."
His lip quirked a little. "I know. I just think it's pretty early to be meeting them is all."
I perched myself on top of his desk, making it nearly impossible for him to try to work around me if he so wanted. "Well, what about your parents? Should I be worried about them?"
I'd kept my tone conversational and a bit playful, to match his own, but when I saw his eyes darken slightly, my stomach rolled over. What did I do? I wondered, fearful I'd hit a nerve without meaning to. Despite our growing closeness in the last month or so, there were still so many things about Thomas that remained a mystery to me.
The second I took note of the dark look in his eyes, it was gone. As quickly as he'd sat down at his desk, Thomas was up again and going to dig through his bookshelves (and several half-packed boxes) for something. "To be honest, I doubt you'll ever meet my parents. They're still back east in New York."
"What do they do?"
His focus was trained intently on a dark green book full of planetary statistics from Spheria (at least, what the statistics were until Darkar destroyed it; how had something like that wound up on Earth anyways?). "My father's an account, and my mom did PR for some local artists before she married him. Nothing very interesting."
"Coming from the daughter of a florist and a firefighter, it sounds pretty interesting."
"The world is full of interesting, Bloom. You just have to know how to look for it."
I tried not to take offense to the somewhat sarcastic bite in his tone. Did he really hate talking about his family that much? Mike, Vanessa, and I had had our ups and downs, but never enough for me to completely loathe talking about them. I bit my lip and watched as Thomas sighed heavily. "Do you know what I did with that leather-bound journal talking about Populous or whatever it was?"
"Popularis," I corrected out of habit. "You stashed in the drawer of the table with the lamp when Gaby was doing office checks…" He was retrieving it before I could even finish the sentence. I sighed, realizing I'd obviously made him upset. "Alright, alright, you win. No more deeply personal family questions."
The hard look on his face softened a bit. "Bloom, I–"
"Don't worry. People bugging you about the family you feel like you don't really know, I get that. I was the adopted kid in school, remember? But… sometimes it does help to talk about it. And I'm speaking from past experience, and not as some shrink getting paid to sort through your head."
He chuckled, but to my surprise it wasn't friendly. "Trust me. I don't think any amount of therapy can fix the bridges I've apparently burned… Do you remember what page had the diagram of the mage circle on it?"
"…Thirty-four," I managed to stutter out, and busied myself with my phone so I could have a moment to think things over.
While I was used to Thomas's bipolar attitude, the flipping between vagueness and bitter sarcasm was not familiar. He couldn't have been mad at me for spending the weekend in Gardenia, and even if he had been it shouldn't have been a big deal since I was back early. And then the way it seemed so easy for him to jump from that to something trivial and totally unrelated… It was more than a little unbalancing, to say the least.
"Your memory comes in astonishingly handy sometimes," I heard him comment idly, and looked up to see him staring at the page he'd wanted. I bit my lip to keep from inadvertently blurting out why I really knew so much about these books of his; my eyes flicked around the room, trying not to look at him for fear that he'd somehow manage to read my thoughts off my face. When I'd finally composed myself, I saw him staring at me intently, the book lying open on the desk. "So. How about we take an early lunch – more like brunch, I suppose – and you can tell me all about your weekend at home?" There was no trace of his earlier bitterness in the bright smile he gave me now.
"Um…" I played with a loose thread on the hem of my top. "You know, I'd love to, but I really should go deal with that rainforest book situation." His face fell, and my stomach dropped. "Some other time," I rushed to add, taking slow, backwards steps towards the doorway. He nodded, but there was still something utterly depressed about the look in his eyes, and so I reached for the one thing I thought might be able to cheer him up. "I might manage to find some time to read some more of your book…"
Despite everything, my lips turned up in a smile as I thought of the last chapter I'd read – or rather, had him read to me, one exceptionally boring rainy day when concentrating on anything seemed completely out of the question. Of course, I'd had to go back and finish said chapter on my own; after only a few pages of listening to Thomas's deep, sexy reading voice, I'd found myself utterly unable to concentrate on the story either…
From the light in his eyes, I could see he was remembering that too, and that gave me the strength to call out a parting, "Catch you later," then disappear out the door and down the hall.
I padded up the flight of stairs to my office, then, alone, closed the door and settled down in my chair, tucking my knees up and spinning around a couple times like I used to do in the one Mike kept by the computer as a little girl. Though I'd told Thomas otherwise, I knew there was no way I could wrap my brain around any kind of work today, not until I'd managed to get my thoughts more settled.
I'd known going into this that Thomas was not an open book of a man, but until now, I'd never cared to know any more than he wanted to tell me. We were two adults starting a new relationship; there were plenty of other things to talk about (or not talk, ahem), without going into every detail about each other's pasts. And certainly I understood the desire for privacy. There was a difference, though, between not wanting to talk about something and getting downright defensive at a random comment.
Catching my hands on the edge of the desk to stop spinning, I slid down in my chair and slipped out of my shoes, resting my feet on the ground. Reaching into my oversize messenger bag, I pulled out my laptop and booted it up, plugging the cord into an outlet under the desk and connecting the wires so it could charge while I used it. At the sight of my screensaver – a picture of the two of us at a bookstore café I loved, smiling and holding up mugs of whipped cream-topped hot chocolate – I grit my teeth and quickly clicked on my Internet browser, obscuring the picture.
There was some truth in what I'd told Thomas before; if I wasn't going to be able to draw, I could at least do some of my other job – reading his novel. After our strange conversation earlier, I wanted desperately to feel like I could understand him, and there was something about reading the words he'd written that was almost like getting a little glimpse into his head; all the things I loved so much about Thomas were clearly visible on the paper (or screen, as it were). If nothing else, it'll take my mind off of things, I thought, pulling up the correct screen and settling in to read for a while.
Princess Liana of Gemma really was a beautiful girl. Her looks were envied by almost everyone in the known world – a model-like figure of perfect proportions, long stick-straight blonde hair, deep blue eyes like the sapphires of her home planet. Unfortunately, under that beautiful exterior was a heart made of ice and jealousy. Two years ago, Liana's husband-to-be had left her for another girl. Specifically, the red-haired brat from the other end of the galaxy who in Liana's opinion had an overbite bad enough to rip off the back of a hover-car. She had no idea what Connor had ever seen in Rachel, but at that moment all Liana could see was an opportunity for revenge.
This was bad news for Rachel, but good news for Valentine.
"You're sure this will work?" Liana asked, swirling the liquid around in the glass with a critical eye. She'd never seen a potion match the consistency and scent of champagne so well.
Valentine smirked. "What reason would I have to lie to you, my dear? The spell I've provided you with is one of the best in the universe. One little sip, and your precious Connon won't even remember a girl named Rachel. Or the fact that he was ever in love with her."
"I still find it ironic that this spell is the same one from the lost galaxy of Amare, which was destroyed over a decade ago."
He merely shrugged, looking through the crowds to make sure no one was looking too closely at him. While the gala was mostly full of young-looking princes and lords who could care less about the unfamiliar man conversing with the so-called Queen of Ice, there were still people in attendance that were more than likely old enough to remember him. "What can I say? I have a fantastic memory."
"But can your potion-making skills compare?"
"If you feel so strongly, I'm more than willing to take the potion back. I know people who've given me much higher offers for it, and more than that trust my 'potion-making skill', as you call it." He gave an icy smile. "Be careful, your Highness; while I'm a good ally, I make a terrible enemy."
"So I've heard," Liana muttered under her breath. Valentine couldn't help but notice she made no move to return the potion. "You've already attacked various planets, including the most prestigious magic school in the galaxy. Tell me, Valentine, why come here? A petty little event with auction items that would barely classify as baubles to you; what lure does a place like this hold?"
A flash of red hair caught his eye, and Valentine got a brief glimpse of Rachel, dressed in a dark blue gown that seemed to reflect the night sky. A smirk tugged on his lips. "The opportunity to level the playing field a bit. Now go; you'll only have one chance to give the boy the drink and make him fall in love with you. After that, you can get the delight of watching the girl you've loathed for so long get the boot."
"I don't know how to repay you," Liana said softly. Valentine glanced at her out of the corner of his eye; if she didn't have such a deep grudge against Rachel, he had the feeling Liana would be pouring the drink down his throat.
But he chose to ignore it. Petty attraction was still attraction after all, and the Princess of Gemma could prove to be a valuable piece in his game, assuming she could pull this off correctly.
"If you really want to repay me, tell the guards not to occupy the gardens for the next few hours. I have a feeling I'll be using the space to meet with a friend of mine. One who may be in desperate need of a shoulder to cry on."
x
To Rachel, it felt as if the whole world was spinning.
One minute, she was staring at Connor in what seemed to be a blissful haze as he prepared to announce to his entire kingdom that they were together, and more importantly were planning to keep it that way. But that bliss slowly gave way to confusion as Connor called Liana's name. Confusion turned to anger when she saw the way he stared at the Princess of Gemma – a look she thought had been reserved for her. The anger turned to jealousy when she saw the same look in Liana's eyes, except partially clouded with lust.
But it had all turned to sadness by the time he leaned in to kiss her, and unable to stomach watching, Rachel made a dash for the rose gardens, needing to be alone.
How could he? How could he? After everything they'd been through together the last three years, it turned out it was all just some lie? Had Connor ever stopped loving Liana? Had the two of them laughed at all the sappy love notes she'd given him, scoffed at her ideas of 'romantic dates', and prayed that every fight they'd had would be the one to end it all?
"Some men these days, huh? Where do they think of these sick and twisted plans?"
Rachel jumped; she hadn't been paying much attention to where she was going, so long as she got away from the party. Apparently her feet had taken her to a small garden, enclosed in a tall hedge that drowned out most of the noise from the festivities. Roses popped out of the hedges and bushes, all in varying colors, around two chairs and a table at the center of the enclosed space. And sitting in one of them was the last person she wanted to see.
"You're hardly one to be talking about sick and twisted, Valentine," Rachel scoffed, feeling her shoulders tense slightly. Instinctively, she took a step backwards, feeling the telltale tingle of magic spring to her fingertips defensively. "What are you doing here? Come to ruin the party? Whatever you've got planned, I won't let you get away with it."
He smirked, rising to his feet and training his gaze on her. "Seems the party's already been ruined for you, my dear. Or else why would you be in here?"
Her cheeks burned, and she turned her attention just to the side of him, focusing so intently on a cluster of pink roses that she thought her eyes would water. Anything was better than meeting those disconcerting light blue eyes of his, that seemed to be able to look right through her with just a single gaze. "If you think I'm telling you anything, you're out of your mind," she managed finally, through a clenched jaw.
"Ah, but you don't have to say a word. Your expression tells me everything I need to know." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him move towards her, and took a few steps backwards in response. "Shame about your prince, although perhaps it's better to know now the fickleness of his heart. Before it's too late, and you've shackled yourself to someone who could never love you the way you deserve."
Rachel's eyebrows arched briefly – how does he know what happened? she wondered – but then she remembered who she was talking to, and let out a small sigh instead. "I just… I don't know where it all went wrong," she said softly, more to herself than anything. "I keep thinking about everything he said, everything I said, everything I did… Why would he go back to her?"
"Some things in this world are just unexplainable." At the sound of his voice, much louder than before even if the softness of his words was still present, she looked up to see that the distance between them was almost nonexistent. Startled, she took another step backwards, only to hear the rustle of greenery as her back met a hedge. Her heart skipped a beat; she was trapped.
But she'd been in this position before, she remembered – stuck, with nowhere to go, at Valentine's mercy – and she'd been fine. Whatever other despicable things he might do, somehow she knew that he wouldn't hurt her. So she had nothing to fear, but that didn't stop her from being afraid.
Because if he wouldn't hurt her, that then begged the question of why.
"Still, he continued, idly fingering the petals of a red rose a few centimeters from her shoulder, "there are much better things to waste your time on. Prettier things, too."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked before she could stop herself. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she took it as a sign to continue. "I've heard of what you've done. You've terrorized the entire galaxy, and cost millions in damages. You've injured people; even killed some. You're working with Krystal, who I know wants me to take a long walk off a short bridge. So… why not kill me? I've made it clear I won't be of any value to you."
He gave her something between a smile and a smirk. "Got a death wish, do we sweetheart? I must admit, I never would've pegged you for the type. Or is that the heartache talking?"
Heat flooded Rachel's cheeks. "That's not what I meant, and you know it!" Valentine's eyes danced with something that looked a lot like amusement, and it tied her stomach into knots for reasons she couldn't explain. She forced herself not to give in to her desire to look away, to face him head-on no matter how much it unnerved her to do so. "Is everything just a game to you?" she demanded.
Her breath caught when his gaze turned serious. "Some things," he said almost reflectively, reaching a hand up towards her face. Rachel flinched, but his touch was surprisingly gentle as he pushed a piece of hair out of her eyes, leaving her skin tingling under his fingertips and her thoughts too chaotic to think of pushing him away. "But not all." She felt like she was moving through fog, as he slowly moved to close the last bit of distance between them…
And then, like a splash of cold water, Rachel realized what was about to happen, and tore herself away from the hedge, heart pounding. "What are you doing?"
For the briefest moment it looked as though she'd slapped him. Rachel didn't know what to make of it. Surely, he didn't really want to kiss her?
But of course, she didn't have time to wonder, because the next moment that cool demeanor was back and he was smirking. "Isn't it obvious? I know your prince has the brains of a brick wall, but I assumed he had enough common sense to know what a kiss was."
She shook her head, almost unable to believe what she was hearing. Tears were stinging at the back of her eyes again, but this time she didn't know why. "You lied to me. Everything is just a game to you. You toy with words, like you do people until you get what you want from them. And I'm here to tell you it won't work on me."
The smirk melted off his face, leaving behind something that looked very close to anger. "Is that what you think? That I'm toying with your feelings for my own personal gain?"
"Why else would you?" The words were out of her mouth before she could think about them, and this time it was harder for Valentine to hide the look on his face. But Rachel pressed on – it was a game. It had to be. "You think you can fool me; well, you're wrong. I know you can't possibly care about anyone but yourself–"
"Because you know me so well." Valentine scoffed. "You know the stories, the rumors and fearful whispers that take on lives of their own and become good as gold, regardless of how they stretch the truth into something virtually unrecognizable. Don't presume that's the same thing, darling. Genuine feelings are hard to come by, and I would never act on them for the sake of a better playing field."
Her eyes narrowed. "You're right about that. If you really cared about me, you would stop causing pain to the world."
Valentine glared at her, and Rachel saw no difference between his eyes and ice. "The beast is incapable of multiple emotions, hmm?"
Rachel didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It shouldn't be possible. It wasn't possible. "We could never be anything more than enemies. You know that."
"Why?" he asked, in that maddeningly casual tone. "Says who? You know, Rachel, it's a very bad habit to fall prey to, letting the world dictate your desires."
"So I should just be like you, then? Do whatever I want, however I want, with no regard for whom I might hurt in the process?"
"That sounds to me, dear girl, like exactly what your prince just did to you." The mention of Connor was like an electric shock, and Rachel flinched.
"I love Connor," she said, voice trembling slightly at the memory of him in Liana's arms just moments earlier. "And even if he doesn't feel the same, there is no way I could ever love you. You're wasting your time if you think otherwise."
A spark lit behind Valentine's eyes, and he took a step towards her, closing some of the distance that had been there since she'd yanked herself away from his almost kiss. "Do you know why Alpha is the worst form of punishment in the magical dimension?" His voice was low and full of a steely sort of determination, the same thing that was oh so visible in those expressive eyes of his. "It's not the burning sun or the desert sandstorms that do you in; it's the skylight. Looking up every day to see freedom so close, but just so far out of reach is what twists people's minds to madness, because hope is the most powerful poison of all. I spent seventeen years in that hellhole, and I survived. And what it taught me was the virtue of patience. So you can deny me all you want, but I don't give up easily."
"Valentine–" She didn't have time to argue as the wind picked up and blew through the enclosed area, stirring up leaves and dirt into what seemed like a miniature cyclone. Rachel turned and covered her eyes, almost tasting the magic in the air.
When the wind died down and she opened her eyes again, she wasn't surprised to find herself alone in the garden.
She sighed and brushed the grass blades from her dress. As mysterious as Valentine had been to her before, he was now a complete puzzle. She didn't know if he had really meant any of what he said – that he cared about her, that he would prove it to her – or if it was all just a cleverly executed plan to weaken her. Krystal had always been good at toying with her emotions, through the use of inanimate objects or real people.
One thing was for certain – she wouldn't get any answers tonight. Rachel turned to leave, ready to find the rest of the girls, go back to their hotel, and sleep until she could be mistaken for a coma patient. But as she swiveled her head, something caught her eye on the table.
It was a single rose, obviously plucked from somewhere in the alcove. Fully bloomed, it was a bright orange color, just able to stand out under the now dark sky.
Rachel picked it up cautiously and brought it to her nose to take in the scent. She vaguely remembered her roommate Lorelei trying to teach her about the meanings of different colored roses. She'd been surprised to learn that orange roses, sometimes associated with fascination and enthusiasm, more commonly stood for desire.
There was only one bush of orange roses, as opposed to the dozens of red ones throughout the garden. More so, the bush was a good distance from the table, where she likely would've been when Valentine tried to kiss her. It'd been left there on purpose, and it'd been left for her.
No chance at a romance, Rachel had said. So why did she feel like she'd just been in a lover's quarrel?
My eyes were wide by the time I made it to the bottom of the last page. But instead of scrolling downwards to see what happened next – not that my curiosity wasn't extremely peaked, mind you – I sat back in my chair, my brain working overtime to process everything.
Seventeen years in prison… a boyfriend with a princess ex-fiance… a party with a love potion… What I'd been able to dismiss as coincidences on their own were starting to look like anything but, all added up together like this. There was no denying it anymore: Thomas's story was an awful lot like my junior year.
I tried to think of a logical explanation for why it was so similar, but my brain couldn't come up with any. The closest one was the idea that one of the many references books on Thomas's shelf was a history one, depicting the tales of the Winx Club. But the books were far too old; and even if they weren't, no historian would focus so much on the details outside of the battles we'd fought.
Out of everything I'd just read, the only part that wasn't familiar (besides the part in the garden, which I was leaving alone for the sake of my sanity) was about how Liana (Diaspro?) got the love potion from Valentine. From what I'd heard, Diaspro's full testimony about her encounter with Baltor was listed in the archives at the Magix Library, but until now I'd never had a reason to go and look through it. But if by some insane chance her story matched Thomas's, that would mean his entire novel was somehow an exact replica of my last year at Alfea.
That would mean Rachel was me. And Valentine…
And there was something else I had to do in that library, I decided. Whether or not the stories lined up, this whole thing was really pushing my patience with Thomas's closed-book policy. I was rapidly getting sick of having him be such an enigma to me. If he wouldn't tell me about himself, then I'd just have to find someone who would. But to do that, I needed some magic that I definitely couldn't do myself. Looked like a trip to Magix – the one thing I'd sworn I'd never do – would have to be in order.
Exhaling, I reached into the side pocket of my bag for my phone and brought up my contacts list, looking for the number I'd dutifully programmed in, but never expected I would have to use. As the ringing echoed in my ear, I mentally prepared myself for what I was going to have to put up with – both on this phone call and the trip itself. It's worth it, to get some answers, I told myself.
There was a sort of clicking sound as the person on the other end picked up. "'Lo?" he said, sounding like I'd woken him up.
I rolled my eyes, having forgotten about the time difference. Oh well. "Good morning to you too, Riven. Now get your lazy ass out of bed. I need your help with something…"
It's (almost) 2013!
As promised, we've got a brand new chapter here for you guys! Authoress and I were super excited to write this chapter, and we're even more excited for the chapters to come! Hopefully this has given you some clues to what's happening next, and where our favorite villain is...
Thanks to everyone whose sticking around and reading and reviewing - we always appreciate the feedback! And if you haven't been reviewing lately, make it your New Year's resolution and drop a line below!
Here's to another awesome year!
ember & Authoress
