"Most definitely. He can't lie; he's been spelled. And he's taught me more about who I am than I would have learned on my own. He's helping me deal with all this. And he is risking his own life to protect me. I seriously doubt a heartless killer would do something like that."
"It's not that we think he's heartless, dear. We're just worried for you," Donna says, feeling the tension radiating between Chris and I. I will myself to calm down, remembering Dorian's reservations about meeting with my parents.
"Well, don't be. I appreciate you both, I truly do, but this is beyond you. Dorian wants to save me. I know you think he's this bad guy but he's not. He's good. He has the ability to love, just like my father did."
"Dorian isn't a bad guy," Donna says reassuringly. Chris rolls his eyes and shakes his head before stalking out of my bedroom and down to his study. Donna's solemn eyes follow his retreat before returning to me. "I just know what he's up against. Even he can't fight it."
"Because he's the Dark Prince. Because his father is the king."
"Yes. No one defies him and lives to tell about it," Donna replies gravely. "He won't win."
I sigh and walk to my door, indicating that I'd like to be alone. I'm tired of talking about this. I just want some peace. I just want Dorian.
"Look, I need to get ready for Morgan's party. I'll be ready to go in half an hour."
My mom nods and exits the room. She turns to look at me with mournful eyes. "I just want you to be careful. That's all we want from you. You can't save him and save yourself too."
Though Morgan and her family also reside in Briargate, their ranch style home is considerably more lavish and extensive. We pull up to the Pierre property nestled in a cul-de-sac in one of the more pricey areas of the neighborhood. Cars line the sidewalk and driveway, indicating that the party is already in full swing.
"Hey Gabs! I'm so glad you finally made it!" Morgan beams. She's got a frozen daiquiri in her hand and is feeling tropical in a colorful maxi dress complete with an oversized flower in her hair. "Where's Dorian?" she whispers, eyeing my parents just a few yards away.
"He couldn't make it," I smile weakly.
"That's too bad. Oh well, Jared and James are here with their mom. And Miguel and his family came too. Oh! Remember those fabulous guys we met at the Luxe grand opening?" She sips her fruity cocktail through a straw.
"Yeah, Carlos, Jackson, and X, right? They came?" Looks like Dorian was right. Carlos and Jackson are both stylists at his salon.
"X didn't. But the other guys came, and girl, they had me dying! I love them; they are freakin' hilarious! We are so going out tonight!"
"I don't know, Morgan. It's supposed to rain later." If there's one thing that can put a damper on a night of club-hopping, it's rain. Morgan's weave would resemble that of a wet dog, and mine would frizz up to Diana Ross status.
Morgan looks at me disbelievingly. "What makes you say that? It's not in the forecast; I checked."
I smile and shrug at my little secret. "Hey, I'm gonna go find Jared. I'll let you get back to your guests."
I scout out the crowd of people gathered around tables of food and drinks. The roar of laughter, conversation and music echoes through the crisp mountain air. I spot Jared positioned near the pool by himself, constructing a text message on his cell phone.
"Hey you," I smile as I approach.
Jared's head snaps up as if he's been caught red handed. "Hey Gabs!" He pulls me into his arms for one of his famous bear hugs. Wow, that was unexpected, especially since things have been pretty hot and cold with us. "You look nice," he says, taking in my knee-length floral sundress.
"Thanks, you too."
Jared always looks nice, even in jeans and a t-shirt. Today he sports a fitted polo shirt, designer wash jeans and his favorite baseball cap. Almost something the old Jared would wear. My Jared.
"Aurora didn't come?"
"Nah, something came up. But I'm supposed to go over to her place after I leave here."
"So you guys are still going strong, huh?" I would normally know the answer to this question but it seems as if Jared and I hardly speak outside of classes.
Jared nods nonchalantly. "Yeah, we are. I really like her. Like, really like her. I never thought I'd feel that way about someone … other than you of course. But hey, I guess everything happens for a reason, right?"
I smile at my old friend and former object of my desire. "Right."
Part of me wants to warn Jared, tell him that his entire relationship was orchestrated so Aurora could infiltrate our group. But the other part of me, the rational part of me, knows that I have to let this play out for all our sakes. Because no matter what I feel for Aurora, her secrets are my secrets. We are in this together. Though we feel nothing but disdain for each other, we both have a common goal, a common love: Dorian. And if tolerating her is what I have to do to keep him alive and make it to my ascension, then I'll do just that.
"Hey, I was thinking, Gabs. I really want you and Aurora to get along. Not just that, but actually be friends. I know she irks you; I can tell. But outside of my mom, you two are the most important women in my life. I want to be able to hang out with both of you without feeling like I'm cheating. So maybe you guys could get together and just talk?"
I scrunch up my nose as if the thought of having a conversation with Aurora pains me. In all honesty, it very well could. "Geez, Jared, I don't know. Things are fine how they are now."
"Just think about it, Gabs. It'd mean a lot to me." Again, he gives me a hearty embrace. "Hey, I'm about to get outta here. If you see Morgan, tell her I said bye and congrats, ok?"
"Sure," I reply, a little disappointed, though I have no right to be. I haven't actually been Friend of the Year.
Hours later, after copious amounts of food and drink have been consumed by all, a frightening clap of thunder rips through the sky, signaling the end of the party and the beginning of a violent storm. As the first drops of rain kiss my face, I look up at the sky and smile. My Dorian is at work. I feel close to him in this moment, knowing that he too is standing out in the rain, replenishing his strength. I want to be where he is; I want the rain to wash away my fear and restore my confidence that everything will be alright.
"What the hell are you doing, Gabs?" Morgan yells scampering to shelter.
I look around at all the scurrying partygoers, completely oblivious to their aversions. A day ago, I would have been one of them. I would have run straight for cover as soon as I felt the first drop. But now as I stand in the rain, sopping wet, I realize that I am growing closer to the paranormal side of me. I am becoming what I was intended to be. Even as lightning flashes across the deathly dark skies, I feel contented. Dorian's magic courses through my body. I have nothing to fear.
"So I see Dorian didn't bother to show up," Chris sneers as we make our way back home.
I wring my wet hair back into a ponytail and roll my eyes from the back seat. "He didn't think it would be a good idea just yet."
"Humph," he scoffs, earning a stern sideways glance from Donna. "Don't tell me he's afraid."
"He was actually," I say flatly, meeting his gaze in the rearview mirror. "For you two. At what I would do if things became heated. See, he actually cares enough about you guys to want to keep you safe. From me."
My parents exchange worried glances and we ride the rest of the way in silence. I am what I am; there's no denying the inevitable anymore. I'm not like them. I was not made for this world. The closer I am to Dorian, the closer I am to ascension, the more powerful I feel. There's no bridging the gap now. As much as I love them, I now realize that they are only my mortal family- a temporary fixture to create the fa?ade of a normal girl. But I am anything but normal. I am the epitome of all that is taboo in their world.
***
Though I have finals, studying and my last week of work to keep me busy, it seems as if I can't focus on anything other than missing Dorian. Phone calls, text messages and quick kisses during my break at work do nothing to satisfy my craving for him. I need to hold him, smell him. Feel him.
By Wednesday, I am nearly writhing with my overwhelming need for him. It's near midnight, I've stashed my textbooks for the evening, and I'm trying desperately to get some sleep. Every time I begin to doze off, I slip into a vivid dream that results in me jolting awake, leaving the space between my legs throbbing and wet.
Finally I flick on my bedside lamp and reach for my phone. Could Dorian still be awake? Of course he is. Just hearing his voice would soothe me; it always does. Yet I don't want him to think I'm totally desperate and helpless. I sigh and toss my cell back on my dresser. No. I have to get through this; I have to get used to not having him around all the time. He's trying to practice restraint. Having me around, breathing me in so often will kill me. I need to stop playing Russian Roulette with my life.
I reach for the remote to my television and turn it on, flicking mindlessly through the channels. Seems like everything either reminds me of him or makes my mind wander into dark territory. Every song on the radio does the same. Dorian completely fills every corner of my mind.
"Ugh! Dorian, why can't you just be here?" I whine into my pillow, giving it a frustrated punch.