Changed my name again!!! Sorry, I can't help myself . . . First Susannah's
Secret, then Princess Roxanne, now Mystique Angelique! What am I ON?!
Wow . . . the response in less than twenty-four hours . . . That was amazing . . . You guys are SO getting two chapters. I think three's a bit too much to ask for, you know? I still have piles and piles of homework, but screw school. Who needs it? . . . Okay, that was a stupid question . . . But yeah, don't worry, I like my school, but I loathe the homework, vile, evil, arduous crap that it is!! ARGH!
Pipe down, Lolly . . . Whoa. (Oh, "Lolly?" That's my nickname. Call me that from now on! :) . . . ) Oh, and Kalilza? I changed that little mistake, thanks.
Okay, here we go . . .
**************************************************************************** ****************
*Last time . . . *
I threw it all in my schoolbag, and turned to leave-
Only Paul was blocking the doorway.
My bag slipped from my hands . . .
~*~
Suze's POV
My mouth fell open slowly. I heard the dull thud of my schoolbag on the ground, and I distinctly felt my heart speed up to a wild tempo. All blood evacuated my face, and my veins seemed to turn to ice. I felt very cold all of a sudden.
'Suze,' he said.
That was it. Just "Suze." He said it with a total unreadable expression too. I couldn't tell how soon he wanted to kill me, all I knew was that he did.
'Get away from me,' I said, my throat very, very dry.
He let out a short, loud breath, and leant off the door. He glanced down at the ground before locking eyes with me again.
'Suze . . . I'm sorry . . . '
HUH?!
That fully floored me. He was actually sorry? As in, he was guilty about something? Oh my God . . . He didn't want to have another crack at throttling me again then.
But that didn't change anything.
'You're sorry?' I laughed unsmilingly, 'Sorry for physically attempting to oh, I dunno, steal my LIFE? That doesn't sit too well with me, Paul. Really. I'm the one that's sorry. Sorry for not exorcising you the minute I saw you.'
I looked proudly to see that I'd hurt him. He looked really offended. Well, good. Ha ha . . . his own fault.
'Suze, for God's sake, I'm apologizing here!' he snapped, stepping forward.
'May I remind you that I don't want you anywhere near me?' I snarled. 'And come on, Paul. I think you and I both know that sorry just isn't going to cut it.'
Where this was coming from, I haven't a clue. I was scared to death, but I guess I was doing a pretty good job at hiding it.
I looked at his face more closely, and saw that he looked really buggered. I mean, way messed up. I didn't care.
'Move,' I said, since he was standing in front of the door.
'No,' he replied shortly, 'Not until you forgive me.'
'Fine, I forgive you,' I said totally unconvincingly. It was the fear talking.
'No, I want a genuine apology accepted,' he said grimly.
'Well, you are not,' I snapped, 'going to get one this century, Paul. Or the next.'
He stepped closer to me so that we were a ruler's length apart, and he slid a hand down my waist, and rested it on my hip, causing me to flinch. I felt myself shrink, and I kind of couldn't breathe . . . I looked up fearfully and oh.
Those eyes.
Those icy blue eyes . . .
. . . As if cerulean poison was squirming in his irises. You have no idea what effect it had on me, seeing them again so close. So real. Danger! my Mediating intuition yelled. I felt myself being, most definitely against my will, sucked into his spell. What was he doing to me? I felt too terrified to even blink, let alone run. And breathing was becoming a big issue about now. The air that Paul and I shared didn't seem to be clean. Like it was contaminated. Dirty.
I tore my eyes away from his, scooped up my bag, and tried to dodge around him, but oh so predictably, he caught my arm. My wrist, to be exact. And you know the story behind my wrists. They were taking a lot longer to heal than my face, most unfortunately. And when his iron grip snaked around my wrist, the result was excruciating! He twisted it around my back. Ow! I gasped, and looked at him with wide eyes.
Mistake. Of the big variety.
Again, his eyes began to entrance me. As if he still had some special shifter skill that had gone faulty in ghosthood, but he was trying to make it work on me again. I felt as though my knees were about to collapse beneath me again. I could stand, couldn't breath, couldn't think . . .
'Stop this,' I whispered, my mind going almost blissfully blank. No pain, no thought.
'You know you love me,' he hissed to me, drawing me into him. He pushed the small of my back against him. I inhaled and exhaled shuddering amorphous breaths that I choked on. I couldn't pull away . . . I couldn't even remember if I wanted to . . .
'No,' I blinked vaguely. He looked down at me, unblinkingly. I wasn't blinking either.
'Yes, you do, Suze. We were meant for one another. Old souls. I've said it before. There was a reason I died here, you're it. So give up the chase. De Silva's nothing to you. Nothing. Forget him. He doesn't care. If he did, well, I'd be exorcised already, wouldn't I? After . . .' he gave me a seductive, yet eloquent look, 'you know . . .'
'No,' was all I could manage. I was hearing him, but I wasn't . . . Everything felt so perfectly calm and serene. No thoughts, no pain . . .
Just Paul Slater's blue eyes.
Not blinking.
'Kiss me, Suze,' he said. His face was flawless. Ruggedly handsome, with a strong nose, tantalizingly soft lips, and blue eyes, light as ice . . .
Ice.
I felt so cold . . .
'Kiss me . . .'
His lips were so soft. Eyes so blue . . .
What was I doing? Why was I kissing him?
'Don't look away,' he hissed against my lips. My eyes were half-closed in my vague, surreal nirvana.
Hissed . . . Unblinking . . .
NO!
With all my strength, I blinked, and staggered away from him, horrified. With a painful rush, all the snags of my life came flooding back so fast it made my head whirl with colours.
'You – you . . . you hypnotized me!' I screeched, 'Paul, you – you DON'T HYPNOTIZE PEOPLE!'
'You kissed me,' he said, smug yet defensive, 'You liked it.'
'Hypnotized, dickhead?' I reminded him. 'That was a stolen kiss.'
'Want me to give it back?' he asked, smirking.
I went as red as the blood on my wrist –
Hey! Oh, for God's sake, he'd opened the cut again. I stared in dismay at my wrist. Great . . .
'See?' I held it up. 'You suck, Paul. Now let me go. I'm going away for the week, and when I get back, you'd better be gone, or you are so kaput. Got it?'
'No,' he snarled, now determined, 'I'm not going! And neither are you, Suze!' He shoved me against my wall, totally forgetting about the "apology" thing. I turned around, but he twisted me violently. I gasped – I think he'd just wrecked the healing streak of that wound on my stomach, you remember? But shit, it hurt! I grimaced, but now, annoyance was assailing my fear. With all the buried force I could muster, I jammed my hands on his chest, and with power that astounded even me, I pushed him so hard that he flew across my whole room and out a window that was already broken, God knows how. I heard a dull thud as he landed on the concrete.
'Hope you drown in your own internal wounds,' I said nastily out the window, and then bolted.
~*~
'What took you so long, Susan?'
'It's Suze, Mrs Webb.'
'Oh, Sue. I'm sorry.'
'Mum, it's Suze! With a Z for zodiac.'
'Uh huh . . . '
'Me, taking so long? Er, I was looking for my er, Lit text book.'
'Suze, you don't have a Lit text book. You don't take Lit.'
'Oh, that's why I couldn't find it . . . '
~*~
Tuesday came all too quickly. It wasn't fair. I was staying at CeeCee's still, and the first sleepover night had gone well. Once her mum had warmed up to me, she was very nice, very bossy and very independent. Seemed so familiar . . . I wonder why.
We both went to school the next day, duh, being a Tuesday. And there was only a faint mark on my face now, where all the bruising had been. See? Again, told ya I heal mega fast. And my left wrist was looking pretty good, too. It was only a little scabbed now.
But my right . . . my right wrist was fresh.
And my stomach one . . . Ow. Seriously, when I got back in the car, they were like, 'Suze, you got blood on your top!' I'd looked down, and there had been a small red patch seeping through on my top. I mean, even though the top had been black, you could still totally tell it was blood.
God, Paul was deadly.
Side-splittingly deadly. Literally.
Tuesday. Only one thing happened on Tuesday . . .
Classes were a drag, as usual. I had double history with Mr Walden, and Dopey and his jocks – friends, not underpants – kept paying me out about fainting the other day. That was until Mr Walden ditched a bit of chalk at him. That was pretty funny. Well, at least they shut up. Then, just as Adam and me had Physics after lunch, I totally saw Heather walk through the door, right through Kelly, who shivered frenziedly. She looked depressed. Heather, I mean, not Kelly. Well, that look seemed to be permanently pasted on her face, but yeah. I quietly whispered to Adam of her presence, and then got a hall pass to go to the ladies'. She twitched when she saw me leaving, and followed.
'Simon,' she said, looking so sad, it was not funny. I mean, she had this kind of washed out, blank look in her eyes. 'What's the point in existing?'
Did she know about Bryce being a ghost? I couldn't remember . . . God, I really wish he was here . . . Get Heather off my back.
'Heather, look. I think things are going to turn out sooner or later,' I said sympathetically.
'Someone call me?'
I spun around, as did Heather, and just saw the last remains of dematerializing glitter fading around a very buff looking Bryce.
How'd he get here like that? This was too much of a coincidence. I'd only THOUGHT of him.
I turned, grinning, to Heather, and saw, to my alarm, her eyes all welled up.
'Bryce . . .' she whispered almost inaudibly, a lone tear skimming her rosy cheek. Her eyes were swollen with unshed tears, and she was very stiff.
'Heather,' he said grimly. 'I hear that your friend killed me.'
Hey? I wasn't about to correct him on the "friend" thing; more like her one night stand . . . but yeah. I'm not vile, right?
'Bryce, please forgive me,' she breathed. I noticed that she was doing a lot more of that. Breathing, I mean. Not that ghosts need to breathe, but she wasn't out of that habit yet. She was breathing way fast, so her chest was rising and falling very fast. It kind of looked a little comical, in a twisted sort of way. What can I say? It's a twisted world . . .
He just stood there, staring at her with cold eyes. This wasn't good. Had I been wrong to do this? Had I –
What he did next blew my "wrong" theory out of the water . . .
He moved from his frozen position so fast, it only lasted a blink. All I knew was, he was standing still, then he had scooped Heather up in his arms, and was kissing her like she was the breath of life or something. It was kind of disgusting to watch, probably because I just think that Heather's so pathetic.
'I'm sorry,' she gasped, full snogging him.
'Forget it,' he said, his breath ragged. His hands were doing some serious work on her back. It was all very fast, and passionate. I mean, there were wild tongues in there. It was really starting to get gross in a big way.
'Suze?'
Adam had walked right through the forgiving couple, and they hadn't even noticed. 'What's up? Why are you staring so fixatedly and all into . . . well, nothing? What, a ghost?'
'Two,' I whispered with a smile. 'Bryce and Heather.'
He looked impressed. 'Really? What are they doing? He yelling at her for going all machete on him?'
I raised my eyebrows. 'Actually, no . . . they're taking the phrase "kiss and make up" to new heights. In a really French way.'
He grimaced. 'Really? That's be sick. Makes you regret being a meditator?'
I chuckled. 'Mediator, you numb nut.' I turned back to Heather and Bryce, and saw they were like, a centimeter apart. Their noses were like, bumping against each other, and Bryce's sandy blond hair was looking really nice against Heather's slack golden locks. But the way they were gazing into each other's eyes was mega intense. Like, blazing. Hang on . . . behind them, there was a really bright white light. Was someone coming with some really dazzling torch, or something?
'What's that?' Adam hissed.
I looked at him strangely. 'You see that?'
'Yeah. It's hard to miss . . . '
I began to quietly commentate what was happening to him.
Bryce had now slowed down to planting soft kisses on Heather's lips. 'I didn't know what I was doing, still living,' he murmured. 'Without you, it seemed weird. Something was always missing. I think . . . I think I even love you more than surfing, Heather?'
The light was getting brighter, and brighter . . .
'Really?' she sobbed in perfect happiness. 'More?'
'I think so . . .' he frowned.
'Oh Bryce,' she exclaimed, and they went all out with the tight embrace stuff. Oh well, it beat watching them French any day.
Now the light was so bright that I had to shield my eyes. It was too white, so pure, it made me feel like I'd never sinned in my life. I felt elevated, cleansed, satisfied and happy all at once . . .
I could hardly see Heather and Bryce anymore. They were two indistinct figures against a sheet of incredible whiteness. I could see they were holding hands, and walking away from me, into the light. But then they stopped, and I saw the misty legs turn to me.
'Thank you, Suze,' Heather's emotional voice called, 'Thank you so much . . . '
'We won't forget what you did, and all,' Bryce yelled, a fuzzy arm waving.
I beamed, my eyes screwed up against the light. 'No biggie. Just doing my civic duty.' I was hell getting warm fuzzies then.
I saw their blurred shapes walking away into the light, until they had faded into the distance. Oh my God . . .
The light weakened, and died, to show the regular school hallway. Everything seemed so dark in comparison. I turned to Adam, who looked rather freaked. 'Er, Suze? What the hell was that?' Only he didn't exactly saw hell.
I smiled, all mushy inside. 'Heather and Bryce won't be bothering us any more . . . They've moved on, Adam.'
I'm so good, aren't I? La . . .
~*~
Lunchtime started off all right. I was eating a very nice sandwich that CeeCee's mum had made me, you know? Homemade peanut butter, that melted in my mouth. Probably gave me a couple of extra chins too, it was that buttery, but it was still nice as. Yum. Adam and I now felt really . . . connected, I guess is the only word. Connected, after both of us saw that "crossing over" thing.
With John Edward.
Sorry, I had to say that. You do realize that he is a mediator, right? He just pretends not to look at the ghosts while he's doing his thing. Maybe I should do what he does . . . make some money, right?
Which is more than I do now –
'Suze? You still alive?' CeeCee was asking. 'Why were you out of Physics so long?'
'She was constipated,' Adam chirped. 'They say it takes a long time . . . '
I whacked him one over the head, and he swore pleasantly. That was when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and me being extremely jumpy, I grabbed the hand, and totally pulled the culprit over my shoulder, and crashing onto the table.
Right into my peanut butter sandwich, and Adam's jelly.
It was – surprise, surprise – Jesse.
Everyone turned to look, and began laughing hysterically. I blushed furiously, and began apologizing profusely.
'Shit, Jesse, I'm SO sorry! Oh my God! I'm sorry, I'm so –'
'Please, querida,' he scowled, 'We need to talk.'
'About . . . stuff?' Adam looked at me with a perky grin. 'I'll come.'
'En privado,' Jesse said frostily. Adam deflated totally. We all could guess that he meant "in private," or something.
With everyone still looking at us weirdly, Jesse ushered me into a vacant classroom.
'You do not know how hard you are to get hold of, Susannah,' he said seriously. At first, I thought he mean, like physically, and I was about to say, "Yeah right," referring to how easy Paul had been finding it lately, when I realized he only meant to talk.
'Oh yeah, I'm a busy woman,' I joked. I didn't want to talk. Nope, no talking. Hate talking.
'Susannah,' he said gravely, 'I remember what you looked like Sunday night. You were hurt. But . . . yesterday morning, Susannah . . . you were worse.'
No . . . this was what I didn't want him to notice. No, no, no!
'What? I, um, I had a really hard walk home?' I squeaked, until my voice went so high it was embarrassing. I stopped, and stared at the fascinating ground, observe how dirty it was . . .
'Susannah,' he said abruptly. I jerked my head up, and looked him in the eyes. Oh, God. They were so gorgeous, so brown, and so intense . . .
I melted completely.
'Jesse,' I began, but he came to stand like, right over me. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and I was breathing really quickly again . . . Oh, Jesus. He was so close to my face. If I stood on my tip-toes, I could so easily kiss him. That would be, of course, under completely different circumstances. Right now, he was kind of glaring at me, demanding the truth. I quailed a little. He couldn't know . . . I didn't even want to think about what would happen if he found out. He;d get himself killed! Paul was the strongest ghost I've ever faced, I swear-
'Susannah,' he repeated, this time in a very demanding tone, which was kind of louder than before, 'Tell me what is going on. Now.'
'I – I . . . ' I stuttered, but realized it was pointless, and went to go, but his hand shot around my hip. I cried out loud – he'd touched my wound – and doubled over in pain. Hey? It hurt, okay?
'Querida!' he declared, stunned, 'I'm sorry, did I hurt you?'
'Uh, yeah?' I snapped. 'Just go away, I'm not telling you about P-'
My hand shot to my mouth. I'm such a LOSER!
Like thunder, his expression changed. After the realization hit him, his face contorted in anger.
'Paul Slater?!' he asked, aghast, 'Paul did this? That el hijo de una RAMERA!'
I took a step back. 'Jesse, stop it. I don't know what you're talking about.'
'You just said, "I'm not telling you about Paul!"
'I did not!'
'Yes, querida, you did.'
'No, no, no! I said, "I'm not telling you about the pain. Jesus, what do you have against Paul anyway?' He gave me a weird look, and was about to argue, when I redeemed myself, 'Okay, yeah, I got that, but you blame everything on him! I mean, holy shit! I've only seen him like, what? Three times? And all he does is swear his head off about you. Nothing else. Doesn't touch me, okay? Cool it, Jesse. You need a time out.'
Well, that sounded damn believable, if I do say so myself.
Too bad I couldn't convince myself . . .
The weird thing was, he looked even more irate. If the way his scar starting, well, glowing, was any indication. 'Susannah, por favor! I know that you are lying, el dios lo maldice!'
I stepped back from him, panting hard. 'For God's sake, Jesse! Just – stop worrying about me! I can take care of myself, Rico Suave!'
'Rico Suave? That's what Paul called me,' he said accusingly, narrowing those black, liquidy eyes . . . I gulped.
'So? I remembered it, all right? See, jumping to frigging conclusions, you are!' I spat at him – not literally, ew. 'Leave me alone!'
'Yeah,' said a new voice. We both turned our heads sharply to face the door. Adam stood there, looking all defensive – again. Okay, this was starting to get a little irksome, you know? With the whole, I-know-your- secret-I'm-your-hero-and-you're-a-defenseless-kitten thing? Yeah, not cool. 'She said leave her alone, De Silva.'
I stared at him incredulously. And not in the awed way. In the kind of, "Er, are you serious?" way.
Jesse was giving him a similar look. 'Look, uh, Adam, this is not a good –'
'She said leave her alone!' he yelled, and came right up to Jesse, pushing him roughly in the shoulders, 'So listen to her, or you'll have to answer to me.'
I burst out laughing. I'm sorry, it was just too much.
'Adam, just, it's not that I'm not grateful, really,' I said, trying to hold down the laughter. Honest! 'But, like he said, not a good time. Please . . .'
'For God's sake, Suze, he's a murderer!' he shouted at me, looking a little hurt all the same. I felt bad. He was only trying to help, but it was getting me really miffed.
Jesse shot me another accusing look. 'I thought we talked about –'
'We did!' I screamed, practically tearing my hair out. 'I just didn't tell them about it, you know? They weren't up with the whole damn ghost thing, okay?'
'Is he harassing you too? Because after what you told me about that Paul guy, well, you've got a lot of enemies, Suze,' he commented crossly.
No, Adam.
He didn't just say that . . .
I didn't want to look at Jesse.
'Adam, please leave,' Jesse said, his voice rumbling very softly . . . I could hear the fury buried in his voice. Oh, SO not good. I looked obstinately – and with shame – at the floor. He couldn't see my eyes, and how close to tears they were. I could feel them stinging.
Adam turned away angrily. 'Fine,' he snapped.
'You know what?' I squealed, 'I'm coming with you, Adam –'
'Suze, you are staying here and telling me the truth!'
'Adam, you totally landed me in it!' I yelled after him as he left the room in an outraged huff. And I looked up into those eyes of his.
Oh, shit . . .
They were burning. Nothing compared to Paul's, but not far off.
I felt my breath running out. I touched my face lightly, trying to avoid his glare.
'You lied,' he said bluntly. 'Susannah, don't lie to me.'
'Don't tell me what to do!' I yelled at his face, flinging my hands out. 'I can take care of myself!'
'Clearly not,' he rebutted, motioning to my wrists and my waist. I rolled my eyes and groaned.
'Look, this is NOT your problem!'
'It is! I killed him, it's my fault that he's hurting others. Hurting you, Susannah!'
'What do you care?' I snapped. 'Just piss off! I'm serious, Jesse, or I will personally kick your arse. I will!'
'I bet you will,' he laughed heatedly. 'Just like you have kicked Paul's. Very funny, Susannah.'
'You know what's very funny? How stupid you are. You act like you're some all-powerful shifter,' I said, making spooking hands. 'But you're not! I haven't seen you do a bloody thing with any ghosts I've seen around. Jesse, you suck. I'm going to deal with Paul, if you'd just STOP breathing down my back!'
'Susannah, I'm trying to protect you!' he roared at me, his face jerking around with each teeth-clenched word.
'You got a pretty shitty way of showing –' I would have continued, but the way he grabbed my shoulders suddenly, drew me into him and began to kiss me passionately, well that was a little distracting. I sank into him, my hands deviating to his muscular arms gently. He was far angrier in this kiss. Harder, more rugged. And so was I. Fired, and intense. I frowned against the pain I was feeling. I felt like I was being split down the centre. I was feeling too bloody much lately. But right now, I was feeling so much angry, and furious love that I felt it was going to burst out of me like I was some volcano of passion or something.
Well, burst out of me in a bigger way that this kiss, I mean . . .
I pulled away, gasping for breath. He held me very close to his face, gasping also.
'Susannah,' he panted, 'Susannah –'
'Jesse, just trust me, okay?' I begged. The tears were threatening now, in spite of all kisses and zealous embraces.
He was glaring at me and panting at the same time. 'I – I –' But he was kind of interrupted too, when I smashed my mouth against his again. My arm flew around his neck, and he pulled me against him, but not in a brutal way that Paul would probably do it. In a way that was fiery, yet still respecting to a degree. But this kissing was painfully sweet. Oh, pain, pain, pain . . .
Again, we quickly stopped. My heart rate was really, really quick now, and my breathing was two breaths a second, you know? He rested his forehead down against mine, also breathing hard.
'Susannah, go out with me, Friday night,' he gasped, kissing my forehead lightly. He ran his thumb down my cheek and swept my hair back. I knit my eyebrows. Shit, did I have a headache. I hid my face in my hands, which were kind of trembling.
Hang on . . . a date?
I resurfaced, looking only slightly perky. Okay, suddenly quite delighted. Well, at least mum would be over the moon.
'Yes, a date,' he said, looking at me levelly.
I tried to hide the smile, but it spread over my face like an infectious plague, and totally made me look dorky. But I couldn't help it. A date . . . my first proper date.
OH MY GOD!
'Okay,' I bubbled squeakily, trying to maintain composure and sophisticated. But since I'm never sophisticated, it was kind of hard to do that.
And, since that Saturday night when he took me horse riding on Zephyr, his face broke out into the truest smile I've ever seen. All the anger dissolved, and left his eyes looking loving and content. He twisted my dark hair around one of his fingers, which resulted in a curious flutter in my pulse.
'Well, querida,' he said in the silkiest voice I've ever had the good fortune to hear, 'I'll see you Friday, at eight.'
'Pick me up from CeeCee's house,' I added, trying hard not to smile so dreamily. I mean, I looked like a major goof. MAJOR.
His dark eyes were smiling at me, and a smirk was tugging at his lips. But again, it had nothing in common with Paul's smirks. Paul's were mocking, and cruel. Jesse's were good natured, and pleased.
And in love with me . . .
That was the best thing of all.
**************************************************************************** *************
Is that enough to quench your Jesse thirsts? I hope so for now . . . sorry they were kind of angry, but, well, sorry. It's just the story. Okay, now REVIEW, or I won't put the other chapter up tomorrow, guys!
Regards, Mystique Angelique.
PS. Whaddoya fink of my new name, huh? And give me ideas for next stories, as in Ninth Key, Reunion, and Darkest Hour, okay?
Love you's all SO SO MUCH!!!
Wow . . . the response in less than twenty-four hours . . . That was amazing . . . You guys are SO getting two chapters. I think three's a bit too much to ask for, you know? I still have piles and piles of homework, but screw school. Who needs it? . . . Okay, that was a stupid question . . . But yeah, don't worry, I like my school, but I loathe the homework, vile, evil, arduous crap that it is!! ARGH!
Pipe down, Lolly . . . Whoa. (Oh, "Lolly?" That's my nickname. Call me that from now on! :) . . . ) Oh, and Kalilza? I changed that little mistake, thanks.
Okay, here we go . . .
**************************************************************************** ****************
*Last time . . . *
I threw it all in my schoolbag, and turned to leave-
Only Paul was blocking the doorway.
My bag slipped from my hands . . .
~*~
Suze's POV
My mouth fell open slowly. I heard the dull thud of my schoolbag on the ground, and I distinctly felt my heart speed up to a wild tempo. All blood evacuated my face, and my veins seemed to turn to ice. I felt very cold all of a sudden.
'Suze,' he said.
That was it. Just "Suze." He said it with a total unreadable expression too. I couldn't tell how soon he wanted to kill me, all I knew was that he did.
'Get away from me,' I said, my throat very, very dry.
He let out a short, loud breath, and leant off the door. He glanced down at the ground before locking eyes with me again.
'Suze . . . I'm sorry . . . '
HUH?!
That fully floored me. He was actually sorry? As in, he was guilty about something? Oh my God . . . He didn't want to have another crack at throttling me again then.
But that didn't change anything.
'You're sorry?' I laughed unsmilingly, 'Sorry for physically attempting to oh, I dunno, steal my LIFE? That doesn't sit too well with me, Paul. Really. I'm the one that's sorry. Sorry for not exorcising you the minute I saw you.'
I looked proudly to see that I'd hurt him. He looked really offended. Well, good. Ha ha . . . his own fault.
'Suze, for God's sake, I'm apologizing here!' he snapped, stepping forward.
'May I remind you that I don't want you anywhere near me?' I snarled. 'And come on, Paul. I think you and I both know that sorry just isn't going to cut it.'
Where this was coming from, I haven't a clue. I was scared to death, but I guess I was doing a pretty good job at hiding it.
I looked at his face more closely, and saw that he looked really buggered. I mean, way messed up. I didn't care.
'Move,' I said, since he was standing in front of the door.
'No,' he replied shortly, 'Not until you forgive me.'
'Fine, I forgive you,' I said totally unconvincingly. It was the fear talking.
'No, I want a genuine apology accepted,' he said grimly.
'Well, you are not,' I snapped, 'going to get one this century, Paul. Or the next.'
He stepped closer to me so that we were a ruler's length apart, and he slid a hand down my waist, and rested it on my hip, causing me to flinch. I felt myself shrink, and I kind of couldn't breathe . . . I looked up fearfully and oh.
Those eyes.
Those icy blue eyes . . .
. . . As if cerulean poison was squirming in his irises. You have no idea what effect it had on me, seeing them again so close. So real. Danger! my Mediating intuition yelled. I felt myself being, most definitely against my will, sucked into his spell. What was he doing to me? I felt too terrified to even blink, let alone run. And breathing was becoming a big issue about now. The air that Paul and I shared didn't seem to be clean. Like it was contaminated. Dirty.
I tore my eyes away from his, scooped up my bag, and tried to dodge around him, but oh so predictably, he caught my arm. My wrist, to be exact. And you know the story behind my wrists. They were taking a lot longer to heal than my face, most unfortunately. And when his iron grip snaked around my wrist, the result was excruciating! He twisted it around my back. Ow! I gasped, and looked at him with wide eyes.
Mistake. Of the big variety.
Again, his eyes began to entrance me. As if he still had some special shifter skill that had gone faulty in ghosthood, but he was trying to make it work on me again. I felt as though my knees were about to collapse beneath me again. I could stand, couldn't breath, couldn't think . . .
'Stop this,' I whispered, my mind going almost blissfully blank. No pain, no thought.
'You know you love me,' he hissed to me, drawing me into him. He pushed the small of my back against him. I inhaled and exhaled shuddering amorphous breaths that I choked on. I couldn't pull away . . . I couldn't even remember if I wanted to . . .
'No,' I blinked vaguely. He looked down at me, unblinkingly. I wasn't blinking either.
'Yes, you do, Suze. We were meant for one another. Old souls. I've said it before. There was a reason I died here, you're it. So give up the chase. De Silva's nothing to you. Nothing. Forget him. He doesn't care. If he did, well, I'd be exorcised already, wouldn't I? After . . .' he gave me a seductive, yet eloquent look, 'you know . . .'
'No,' was all I could manage. I was hearing him, but I wasn't . . . Everything felt so perfectly calm and serene. No thoughts, no pain . . .
Just Paul Slater's blue eyes.
Not blinking.
'Kiss me, Suze,' he said. His face was flawless. Ruggedly handsome, with a strong nose, tantalizingly soft lips, and blue eyes, light as ice . . .
Ice.
I felt so cold . . .
'Kiss me . . .'
His lips were so soft. Eyes so blue . . .
What was I doing? Why was I kissing him?
'Don't look away,' he hissed against my lips. My eyes were half-closed in my vague, surreal nirvana.
Hissed . . . Unblinking . . .
NO!
With all my strength, I blinked, and staggered away from him, horrified. With a painful rush, all the snags of my life came flooding back so fast it made my head whirl with colours.
'You – you . . . you hypnotized me!' I screeched, 'Paul, you – you DON'T HYPNOTIZE PEOPLE!'
'You kissed me,' he said, smug yet defensive, 'You liked it.'
'Hypnotized, dickhead?' I reminded him. 'That was a stolen kiss.'
'Want me to give it back?' he asked, smirking.
I went as red as the blood on my wrist –
Hey! Oh, for God's sake, he'd opened the cut again. I stared in dismay at my wrist. Great . . .
'See?' I held it up. 'You suck, Paul. Now let me go. I'm going away for the week, and when I get back, you'd better be gone, or you are so kaput. Got it?'
'No,' he snarled, now determined, 'I'm not going! And neither are you, Suze!' He shoved me against my wall, totally forgetting about the "apology" thing. I turned around, but he twisted me violently. I gasped – I think he'd just wrecked the healing streak of that wound on my stomach, you remember? But shit, it hurt! I grimaced, but now, annoyance was assailing my fear. With all the buried force I could muster, I jammed my hands on his chest, and with power that astounded even me, I pushed him so hard that he flew across my whole room and out a window that was already broken, God knows how. I heard a dull thud as he landed on the concrete.
'Hope you drown in your own internal wounds,' I said nastily out the window, and then bolted.
~*~
'What took you so long, Susan?'
'It's Suze, Mrs Webb.'
'Oh, Sue. I'm sorry.'
'Mum, it's Suze! With a Z for zodiac.'
'Uh huh . . . '
'Me, taking so long? Er, I was looking for my er, Lit text book.'
'Suze, you don't have a Lit text book. You don't take Lit.'
'Oh, that's why I couldn't find it . . . '
~*~
Tuesday came all too quickly. It wasn't fair. I was staying at CeeCee's still, and the first sleepover night had gone well. Once her mum had warmed up to me, she was very nice, very bossy and very independent. Seemed so familiar . . . I wonder why.
We both went to school the next day, duh, being a Tuesday. And there was only a faint mark on my face now, where all the bruising had been. See? Again, told ya I heal mega fast. And my left wrist was looking pretty good, too. It was only a little scabbed now.
But my right . . . my right wrist was fresh.
And my stomach one . . . Ow. Seriously, when I got back in the car, they were like, 'Suze, you got blood on your top!' I'd looked down, and there had been a small red patch seeping through on my top. I mean, even though the top had been black, you could still totally tell it was blood.
God, Paul was deadly.
Side-splittingly deadly. Literally.
Tuesday. Only one thing happened on Tuesday . . .
Classes were a drag, as usual. I had double history with Mr Walden, and Dopey and his jocks – friends, not underpants – kept paying me out about fainting the other day. That was until Mr Walden ditched a bit of chalk at him. That was pretty funny. Well, at least they shut up. Then, just as Adam and me had Physics after lunch, I totally saw Heather walk through the door, right through Kelly, who shivered frenziedly. She looked depressed. Heather, I mean, not Kelly. Well, that look seemed to be permanently pasted on her face, but yeah. I quietly whispered to Adam of her presence, and then got a hall pass to go to the ladies'. She twitched when she saw me leaving, and followed.
'Simon,' she said, looking so sad, it was not funny. I mean, she had this kind of washed out, blank look in her eyes. 'What's the point in existing?'
Did she know about Bryce being a ghost? I couldn't remember . . . God, I really wish he was here . . . Get Heather off my back.
'Heather, look. I think things are going to turn out sooner or later,' I said sympathetically.
'Someone call me?'
I spun around, as did Heather, and just saw the last remains of dematerializing glitter fading around a very buff looking Bryce.
How'd he get here like that? This was too much of a coincidence. I'd only THOUGHT of him.
I turned, grinning, to Heather, and saw, to my alarm, her eyes all welled up.
'Bryce . . .' she whispered almost inaudibly, a lone tear skimming her rosy cheek. Her eyes were swollen with unshed tears, and she was very stiff.
'Heather,' he said grimly. 'I hear that your friend killed me.'
Hey? I wasn't about to correct him on the "friend" thing; more like her one night stand . . . but yeah. I'm not vile, right?
'Bryce, please forgive me,' she breathed. I noticed that she was doing a lot more of that. Breathing, I mean. Not that ghosts need to breathe, but she wasn't out of that habit yet. She was breathing way fast, so her chest was rising and falling very fast. It kind of looked a little comical, in a twisted sort of way. What can I say? It's a twisted world . . .
He just stood there, staring at her with cold eyes. This wasn't good. Had I been wrong to do this? Had I –
What he did next blew my "wrong" theory out of the water . . .
He moved from his frozen position so fast, it only lasted a blink. All I knew was, he was standing still, then he had scooped Heather up in his arms, and was kissing her like she was the breath of life or something. It was kind of disgusting to watch, probably because I just think that Heather's so pathetic.
'I'm sorry,' she gasped, full snogging him.
'Forget it,' he said, his breath ragged. His hands were doing some serious work on her back. It was all very fast, and passionate. I mean, there were wild tongues in there. It was really starting to get gross in a big way.
'Suze?'
Adam had walked right through the forgiving couple, and they hadn't even noticed. 'What's up? Why are you staring so fixatedly and all into . . . well, nothing? What, a ghost?'
'Two,' I whispered with a smile. 'Bryce and Heather.'
He looked impressed. 'Really? What are they doing? He yelling at her for going all machete on him?'
I raised my eyebrows. 'Actually, no . . . they're taking the phrase "kiss and make up" to new heights. In a really French way.'
He grimaced. 'Really? That's be sick. Makes you regret being a meditator?'
I chuckled. 'Mediator, you numb nut.' I turned back to Heather and Bryce, and saw they were like, a centimeter apart. Their noses were like, bumping against each other, and Bryce's sandy blond hair was looking really nice against Heather's slack golden locks. But the way they were gazing into each other's eyes was mega intense. Like, blazing. Hang on . . . behind them, there was a really bright white light. Was someone coming with some really dazzling torch, or something?
'What's that?' Adam hissed.
I looked at him strangely. 'You see that?'
'Yeah. It's hard to miss . . . '
I began to quietly commentate what was happening to him.
Bryce had now slowed down to planting soft kisses on Heather's lips. 'I didn't know what I was doing, still living,' he murmured. 'Without you, it seemed weird. Something was always missing. I think . . . I think I even love you more than surfing, Heather?'
The light was getting brighter, and brighter . . .
'Really?' she sobbed in perfect happiness. 'More?'
'I think so . . .' he frowned.
'Oh Bryce,' she exclaimed, and they went all out with the tight embrace stuff. Oh well, it beat watching them French any day.
Now the light was so bright that I had to shield my eyes. It was too white, so pure, it made me feel like I'd never sinned in my life. I felt elevated, cleansed, satisfied and happy all at once . . .
I could hardly see Heather and Bryce anymore. They were two indistinct figures against a sheet of incredible whiteness. I could see they were holding hands, and walking away from me, into the light. But then they stopped, and I saw the misty legs turn to me.
'Thank you, Suze,' Heather's emotional voice called, 'Thank you so much . . . '
'We won't forget what you did, and all,' Bryce yelled, a fuzzy arm waving.
I beamed, my eyes screwed up against the light. 'No biggie. Just doing my civic duty.' I was hell getting warm fuzzies then.
I saw their blurred shapes walking away into the light, until they had faded into the distance. Oh my God . . .
The light weakened, and died, to show the regular school hallway. Everything seemed so dark in comparison. I turned to Adam, who looked rather freaked. 'Er, Suze? What the hell was that?' Only he didn't exactly saw hell.
I smiled, all mushy inside. 'Heather and Bryce won't be bothering us any more . . . They've moved on, Adam.'
I'm so good, aren't I? La . . .
~*~
Lunchtime started off all right. I was eating a very nice sandwich that CeeCee's mum had made me, you know? Homemade peanut butter, that melted in my mouth. Probably gave me a couple of extra chins too, it was that buttery, but it was still nice as. Yum. Adam and I now felt really . . . connected, I guess is the only word. Connected, after both of us saw that "crossing over" thing.
With John Edward.
Sorry, I had to say that. You do realize that he is a mediator, right? He just pretends not to look at the ghosts while he's doing his thing. Maybe I should do what he does . . . make some money, right?
Which is more than I do now –
'Suze? You still alive?' CeeCee was asking. 'Why were you out of Physics so long?'
'She was constipated,' Adam chirped. 'They say it takes a long time . . . '
I whacked him one over the head, and he swore pleasantly. That was when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and me being extremely jumpy, I grabbed the hand, and totally pulled the culprit over my shoulder, and crashing onto the table.
Right into my peanut butter sandwich, and Adam's jelly.
It was – surprise, surprise – Jesse.
Everyone turned to look, and began laughing hysterically. I blushed furiously, and began apologizing profusely.
'Shit, Jesse, I'm SO sorry! Oh my God! I'm sorry, I'm so –'
'Please, querida,' he scowled, 'We need to talk.'
'About . . . stuff?' Adam looked at me with a perky grin. 'I'll come.'
'En privado,' Jesse said frostily. Adam deflated totally. We all could guess that he meant "in private," or something.
With everyone still looking at us weirdly, Jesse ushered me into a vacant classroom.
'You do not know how hard you are to get hold of, Susannah,' he said seriously. At first, I thought he mean, like physically, and I was about to say, "Yeah right," referring to how easy Paul had been finding it lately, when I realized he only meant to talk.
'Oh yeah, I'm a busy woman,' I joked. I didn't want to talk. Nope, no talking. Hate talking.
'Susannah,' he said gravely, 'I remember what you looked like Sunday night. You were hurt. But . . . yesterday morning, Susannah . . . you were worse.'
No . . . this was what I didn't want him to notice. No, no, no!
'What? I, um, I had a really hard walk home?' I squeaked, until my voice went so high it was embarrassing. I stopped, and stared at the fascinating ground, observe how dirty it was . . .
'Susannah,' he said abruptly. I jerked my head up, and looked him in the eyes. Oh, God. They were so gorgeous, so brown, and so intense . . .
I melted completely.
'Jesse,' I began, but he came to stand like, right over me. I looked up at him with wide eyes, and I was breathing really quickly again . . . Oh, Jesus. He was so close to my face. If I stood on my tip-toes, I could so easily kiss him. That would be, of course, under completely different circumstances. Right now, he was kind of glaring at me, demanding the truth. I quailed a little. He couldn't know . . . I didn't even want to think about what would happen if he found out. He;d get himself killed! Paul was the strongest ghost I've ever faced, I swear-
'Susannah,' he repeated, this time in a very demanding tone, which was kind of louder than before, 'Tell me what is going on. Now.'
'I – I . . . ' I stuttered, but realized it was pointless, and went to go, but his hand shot around my hip. I cried out loud – he'd touched my wound – and doubled over in pain. Hey? It hurt, okay?
'Querida!' he declared, stunned, 'I'm sorry, did I hurt you?'
'Uh, yeah?' I snapped. 'Just go away, I'm not telling you about P-'
My hand shot to my mouth. I'm such a LOSER!
Like thunder, his expression changed. After the realization hit him, his face contorted in anger.
'Paul Slater?!' he asked, aghast, 'Paul did this? That el hijo de una RAMERA!'
I took a step back. 'Jesse, stop it. I don't know what you're talking about.'
'You just said, "I'm not telling you about Paul!"
'I did not!'
'Yes, querida, you did.'
'No, no, no! I said, "I'm not telling you about the pain. Jesus, what do you have against Paul anyway?' He gave me a weird look, and was about to argue, when I redeemed myself, 'Okay, yeah, I got that, but you blame everything on him! I mean, holy shit! I've only seen him like, what? Three times? And all he does is swear his head off about you. Nothing else. Doesn't touch me, okay? Cool it, Jesse. You need a time out.'
Well, that sounded damn believable, if I do say so myself.
Too bad I couldn't convince myself . . .
The weird thing was, he looked even more irate. If the way his scar starting, well, glowing, was any indication. 'Susannah, por favor! I know that you are lying, el dios lo maldice!'
I stepped back from him, panting hard. 'For God's sake, Jesse! Just – stop worrying about me! I can take care of myself, Rico Suave!'
'Rico Suave? That's what Paul called me,' he said accusingly, narrowing those black, liquidy eyes . . . I gulped.
'So? I remembered it, all right? See, jumping to frigging conclusions, you are!' I spat at him – not literally, ew. 'Leave me alone!'
'Yeah,' said a new voice. We both turned our heads sharply to face the door. Adam stood there, looking all defensive – again. Okay, this was starting to get a little irksome, you know? With the whole, I-know-your- secret-I'm-your-hero-and-you're-a-defenseless-kitten thing? Yeah, not cool. 'She said leave her alone, De Silva.'
I stared at him incredulously. And not in the awed way. In the kind of, "Er, are you serious?" way.
Jesse was giving him a similar look. 'Look, uh, Adam, this is not a good –'
'She said leave her alone!' he yelled, and came right up to Jesse, pushing him roughly in the shoulders, 'So listen to her, or you'll have to answer to me.'
I burst out laughing. I'm sorry, it was just too much.
'Adam, just, it's not that I'm not grateful, really,' I said, trying to hold down the laughter. Honest! 'But, like he said, not a good time. Please . . .'
'For God's sake, Suze, he's a murderer!' he shouted at me, looking a little hurt all the same. I felt bad. He was only trying to help, but it was getting me really miffed.
Jesse shot me another accusing look. 'I thought we talked about –'
'We did!' I screamed, practically tearing my hair out. 'I just didn't tell them about it, you know? They weren't up with the whole damn ghost thing, okay?'
'Is he harassing you too? Because after what you told me about that Paul guy, well, you've got a lot of enemies, Suze,' he commented crossly.
No, Adam.
He didn't just say that . . .
I didn't want to look at Jesse.
'Adam, please leave,' Jesse said, his voice rumbling very softly . . . I could hear the fury buried in his voice. Oh, SO not good. I looked obstinately – and with shame – at the floor. He couldn't see my eyes, and how close to tears they were. I could feel them stinging.
Adam turned away angrily. 'Fine,' he snapped.
'You know what?' I squealed, 'I'm coming with you, Adam –'
'Suze, you are staying here and telling me the truth!'
'Adam, you totally landed me in it!' I yelled after him as he left the room in an outraged huff. And I looked up into those eyes of his.
Oh, shit . . .
They were burning. Nothing compared to Paul's, but not far off.
I felt my breath running out. I touched my face lightly, trying to avoid his glare.
'You lied,' he said bluntly. 'Susannah, don't lie to me.'
'Don't tell me what to do!' I yelled at his face, flinging my hands out. 'I can take care of myself!'
'Clearly not,' he rebutted, motioning to my wrists and my waist. I rolled my eyes and groaned.
'Look, this is NOT your problem!'
'It is! I killed him, it's my fault that he's hurting others. Hurting you, Susannah!'
'What do you care?' I snapped. 'Just piss off! I'm serious, Jesse, or I will personally kick your arse. I will!'
'I bet you will,' he laughed heatedly. 'Just like you have kicked Paul's. Very funny, Susannah.'
'You know what's very funny? How stupid you are. You act like you're some all-powerful shifter,' I said, making spooking hands. 'But you're not! I haven't seen you do a bloody thing with any ghosts I've seen around. Jesse, you suck. I'm going to deal with Paul, if you'd just STOP breathing down my back!'
'Susannah, I'm trying to protect you!' he roared at me, his face jerking around with each teeth-clenched word.
'You got a pretty shitty way of showing –' I would have continued, but the way he grabbed my shoulders suddenly, drew me into him and began to kiss me passionately, well that was a little distracting. I sank into him, my hands deviating to his muscular arms gently. He was far angrier in this kiss. Harder, more rugged. And so was I. Fired, and intense. I frowned against the pain I was feeling. I felt like I was being split down the centre. I was feeling too bloody much lately. But right now, I was feeling so much angry, and furious love that I felt it was going to burst out of me like I was some volcano of passion or something.
Well, burst out of me in a bigger way that this kiss, I mean . . .
I pulled away, gasping for breath. He held me very close to his face, gasping also.
'Susannah,' he panted, 'Susannah –'
'Jesse, just trust me, okay?' I begged. The tears were threatening now, in spite of all kisses and zealous embraces.
He was glaring at me and panting at the same time. 'I – I –' But he was kind of interrupted too, when I smashed my mouth against his again. My arm flew around his neck, and he pulled me against him, but not in a brutal way that Paul would probably do it. In a way that was fiery, yet still respecting to a degree. But this kissing was painfully sweet. Oh, pain, pain, pain . . .
Again, we quickly stopped. My heart rate was really, really quick now, and my breathing was two breaths a second, you know? He rested his forehead down against mine, also breathing hard.
'Susannah, go out with me, Friday night,' he gasped, kissing my forehead lightly. He ran his thumb down my cheek and swept my hair back. I knit my eyebrows. Shit, did I have a headache. I hid my face in my hands, which were kind of trembling.
Hang on . . . a date?
I resurfaced, looking only slightly perky. Okay, suddenly quite delighted. Well, at least mum would be over the moon.
'Yes, a date,' he said, looking at me levelly.
I tried to hide the smile, but it spread over my face like an infectious plague, and totally made me look dorky. But I couldn't help it. A date . . . my first proper date.
OH MY GOD!
'Okay,' I bubbled squeakily, trying to maintain composure and sophisticated. But since I'm never sophisticated, it was kind of hard to do that.
And, since that Saturday night when he took me horse riding on Zephyr, his face broke out into the truest smile I've ever seen. All the anger dissolved, and left his eyes looking loving and content. He twisted my dark hair around one of his fingers, which resulted in a curious flutter in my pulse.
'Well, querida,' he said in the silkiest voice I've ever had the good fortune to hear, 'I'll see you Friday, at eight.'
'Pick me up from CeeCee's house,' I added, trying hard not to smile so dreamily. I mean, I looked like a major goof. MAJOR.
His dark eyes were smiling at me, and a smirk was tugging at his lips. But again, it had nothing in common with Paul's smirks. Paul's were mocking, and cruel. Jesse's were good natured, and pleased.
And in love with me . . .
That was the best thing of all.
**************************************************************************** *************
Is that enough to quench your Jesse thirsts? I hope so for now . . . sorry they were kind of angry, but, well, sorry. It's just the story. Okay, now REVIEW, or I won't put the other chapter up tomorrow, guys!
Regards, Mystique Angelique.
PS. Whaddoya fink of my new name, huh? And give me ideas for next stories, as in Ninth Key, Reunion, and Darkest Hour, okay?
Love you's all SO SO MUCH!!!
