He looked about Angel's age. 19 maybe. His platinum blonde hair was cut short and faded on the sides. His eyes a pale gray. They focused on the wound on her knee. In the blink of an eye, he was crouched beside her. He seemed to breathe in her scent.
"Odd. You look normal. But you smell like a Dracos." He said.
"What?"
"You have no idea what I'm talking about do you?"
Angel shook her head slowly.
"Who brought you here?"
"My m-…"
The word mother catches in her throat. Could she even call her mother anymore? She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore.
"Hey it's alright. You don't gotta say it out loud. I can try and fill in some blanks. I'm guessing you just found out everything you knew was a lie. Including the people, you hold dear?" He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her.
Angel nodded.
"Did it happen to you too?" She said, dabbing at the scratch with the silken piece of cloth.
"Not in the same way as you I'm sure, but yeah. That hot feelin' in your chest. It's called betrayal. And you have every right to feel it."
Angel looked at him warily as she stood up straight.
"Why are you being so nice to me?"
The boy held his hand out like a peace offering.
"Because I want to. I am Demetriou Vasilakis. You can call me Demi."
Despite the pretentious air about him, Angel fitted her hand in his.
"Angelina. Everyone calls me Angel."
"Well, Angel, I think we're gonna be the best of friends."
Angel took a deep breath still confused.
"Alright, then can you tell me more about these Dracos?"
Demi gives her a mischievous grin before his eyes widen as he stares at the figure behind her. Angel turned to see the man known as Evander. Her breath caught in her chest. What was it with this town and beautiful men? Pushing aside his looks, she focused on the reason he was here. He followed her.
"It's you." Rebellious rage swelled within her.
Something cool encircled her wrist. She looked down to see Demi had stopped her. She looked up at him and he shook his head earnestly. To Evander, he gave a slight bow of his head. A sign of respect.
"Please excuse her Instructor Kormos." he said.
"It's quite alright Demetriou." said Evander.
His voice was alluring. The kind of voice that commanded your attention. As he spoke his eyes remained locked with Angel. Making it hard to look away. Not that she wanted to. Angel was not the type to be easily intimidated. She certainly was not going to let some pretty boy make her weak in the knees.
She wanted to scold Demi for speaking for her, but the pleading look in his eyes gave her pause. Evander or Instructor Kormos was someone he felt was worth saving face around. The last thing she wanted to do was bring shame to a potential friend. She didn't have many, if any these days. Back in the city she had managed to push away most of them. The two that remained she kept at a distance. Afraid something might happen to them if they got too close. She never said as much but, Angel couldn't shake the feeling that the death of her best friend and father were somehow her fault.
She remained silent as she held Evander's gaze.
"What brings you here instructor?" asked Demi.
"Just thought I'd go for a stroll, enjoy a cup of coffee. Care to join me? I'm an Instructor at the Academy you'll be attending."
"Academy?" Angel said in disbelief.
"Stratos Academy. Come join me for a cup of coffee. I'll fill you in."
Demetriou got the feeling the invitation was meant for Angel alone.
"I guess I'll see you Monday then. Don't be late. The academy is a stickler for being on time."
He tipped an imaginary hat to her and turned to leave. Part of Angel wanted to stop him. To tell him not to leave her with this man who bared more bad news. The other part was glad he wouldn't stick around to hear it. Squaring her shoulders, she started walking in the direction she last saw a coffee shop.
"You can cut the act now. I know you followed me. If you're here to take me back, I'm not going."
"Then don't."
"Reverse psychology doesn't work on me."
Evander smiled to himself. This girl was truly different from any Draco's he had ever meant.
"That was not my intention young miss."
Angel frowned. She found herself frowning a lot around this man.
"If you're not here to bring me back, then why are you here?"
He stopped walking. The smell of freshly ground coffee wafted through the air letting her know they had arrived.
"To tell you the truth your mother could not."
Angel swallowed hard.
"And what if I don't want to know?"
"Is there not a part of you that wonders who you are? Who you truly are."
"And you, a stranger is going to tell me who I am? You don't know me." Her fingers clinch the hem of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.
"Then let's get to know each other over a cup of coffee." He gestured for her to follow him inside.
Angel scoffed at that. Again, with the coffee. She wasn't in the mood for coffee.
"Why should I? Why should I trust you when I can't even trust my own mother?"
There was so much pain in the girl's eyes, yet there was not so much as a tremble in her voice. It was clear to Evander that Dalia was mistaken. This girl could handle the truth.
"Because I knew your father. I want to take down his killer just as much as you do."
"Y-you know who killed him?"
His response is to hold the door open, allowing Angel to go first.
She mumbles a thank you, but it dies on her lips as there knuckles brush. Colors flash before her eyes. Red, yellow, orange, and white circles stretch into streaks of light.
She's in front of the coffee shop still, only it seems more dated. The shiny hanging sign was now made of wood. It matched the old oak exterior of the shop. Everything felt hazy and unclear. Knuckles brushed her own, pulling away to entwine their fingers. Angel looked down at the pair of hands that didn't belong to her. The slim olive tone fingers wiggled when she moved them. Evander was beside her holding the door open for her. He gave her hand a squeeze, gazing down at her tenderly.
"You know I hate it when you stare like that." said Evander.
"Are you afraid I'll see something I don't like? Well, it's too late. That tie is absolutely dreadful." said a seductive voice like honey.
Her hand shot to her mouth. It was as if her lips moved on their own. The voice was not hers and yet she knew it was her who spoke. Evander chuckled, completely unaffected by her response. He simply smiled like a shy schoolboy.
"What would you have me do, Angelina?"
He had said it. Her full name. Hearing it instantly broke the spell.
"Angel? Angel are you alright?"
Just like that, she was back to the present. She opened her eyes and Evander was still there. The tender look in his eyes was replaced with worry. One hand gripped her elbow, holding her steady. She didn't need it. This wasn't her first time seeing something like that. It happened 3 times before. Each time was brief and void of any life. The only thing she would see was scenery, a book, and a room. This was the first time she had seen a person. That person being Evander, made Angel nervous. She looked down at Evander's hand at her elbow. He caught her staring and let go.
"Where did you go?"
Something told her to keep quiet. What if he thought she was crazy? He was an instructor at the academy she was supposed to be attending. If he thought, she was crazy the whole school would eventually. After all no one could spread a rumor faster than a teacher. The unwritten law was if a teacher said it, then it must be true. Angel would be doomed on her first day. She had seen first-hand how a loose lipped teacher could bring ruin to a student's reputation. Squaring her shoulders, she looked him in the eye.
"Is a coffee shop really the place to discuss my father's killer? I'm not really in the mood for coffee."
His patience faltered a bit. Not that he was all smiles before. He didn't smile once when he greeted her. The prim and proper façade he displayed melted away. The air about him changed completely. A long sigh escaping him.
"Me either. It seems you're not one to be coddled. Let's get to the point then, shall we?"
He reached out again recapturing her elbow. Angel tried to shake him loose, but his grip only tightened.
"You don't want to do that. If you let go during the spell who knows where you'll end up."
She didn't have time to ask him what he meant because with a snap of his fingers their surroundings changed. One minute they were outside the coffee shop, the next they were in a dimly lit corridor. They were back at the house, she realized pulling away from him and backing up a few steps.
"Why would you bring me back here?"
He had the nerve to look at her as if she were the odd one. He laughed as if she told a joke.
"I'm sorry. It's just that you're really a strange girl. Your more concerned about the where then the how."
She also thought it odd that she wasn't freaking out. The man just teleported them with the snap of his fingers. The mere idea should be mind-blowing, but all she could think about was being in the same vicinity of her mother. The man before her didn't hold a candle to her fear of confronting the stranger that raised her.
"Do you remember what I told you? My reason for following you?"
Angel snorted.
"You mean it wasn't coincidence?"
"Focus Angel."
"You said you were going to tell me the truth my mother could not."
He offered a small smile.
"That's why I brought you here. The truth is behind this door." He placed his hand on the door knob.
"Okay, open it."
He shook his head.
"I want you to open it."
Angel's brave face faltered, and her palms began to itch.
"The truth is really behind this door?"
He nodded.
"Once you open that door there's no going back. Your life will never be the same again."
"And if I don't? If I choose to run from all this. What happens then?"
He leaned his shoulder against the door's frame, tucking a stray lock behind his ear. He seemed to actually ponder it.
"You don't strike me as the type to run away."
"And what type is that?"
Reaching for her hand he gently guided it so that it was wrapped around the doorknob. Then he let go.
"The type that takes control of their destiny if not for a moment."
"Whatta ya know, you observed right."
She turned the knob. The door opened full swing hitting the wall on the other side. As far as Angel was concerned, she already was in control of her own destiny, and she dared anyone who thought they could take that away from her. She only asked him that question to make sure he wasn't one of those people. Even so, she wasn't convinced. At least not fully. Apart of her wanted to trust him. It was the same hopeful part that wanted to believe her mother was the same woman that raised her. That her father who she adored, was related to her.
She stepped inside and Evander flipped a switch behind her. One by one light fixtures along the walls flickered to life. Her eyes took in the room her feet dragging along the marble floors as she ventured. The large statue in the center of the room commanded her full attention. An unseen force propelled her forward until she was smack in front of it. Her hands landing at its feet. A beautiful woman was carved in alabaster. She wondered what a girl had to do to get a statue built for her.
"Who is she?"
Instead of answering Evander walked over to a painting and plucked it off the wall. Her breath caught in her throat when he placed the painting in her hands. It was the same woman from the statue. Now she could see the girl had straight brown hair and light olive skin. Her half full lips were painted ruby red. Black liner enhanced her long lashes. Giving the girl's moss-colored eyes a dramatic pop. Angel got a weird sense as she stared at the woman's portrait. She couldn't explain why, but it was as if she knew her.
"Who is this woman." She asked again.
"Your relative."
"Mine?" She pointed at herself in disbelief.
She looked from the statue to the portrait again. There was absolutely no resemblance between the woman and her. She didn't question it though. After all her mother did say this manor belonged to her family.
"So, she's a Dracos?"
Evander quirked an eyebrow, nodding slightly.
"Your familiar with the name already?"
"Hardly." She laughed dryly. "Demetriou said something about me being a Dracos. Sebastian did too."
"Angelina Dracos." The name seemed to echo off the walls as he spoke it.
"Um."
He tapped a nail on the painting.
"Is her name. Same as yours."
Angel frowned not liking the comparison.
"My name is Angel Jones."
"Angel is short for Angelina is it not?"
"No one calls me that."
"Because you ask them not to."
"That's right." She said crossing her arms over her chest.
He took a step forward forcing her to step back.
"Why?"
"None of your business."
She was getting annoyed now. What was this guy's deal anyway?
"That's not an answer Angel."
Another step forward and Angel's back bumped into the statue behind her. She reached for it; afraid it might tip over. The room changed the instant she touched it. Another vision, she thought. Only it was from a third-person perspective.
The woman in the portrait sat in a chair as a man took a hammer and chisel to a large block of alabaster.
"Angelina, you are truly a vision to behold." said the artist.
The woman sighed as if she heard that complementary daily and was quite bored of it. A hand flew to her mouth accompanied by a yawn.
"Yes, yes, my beauty is unrivaled and all of Crestfall worships me like no other. Say Andrew, are we done yet?"
"Just putting on the final touches my lady."
Another exaggerated sigh. Standing up the woman walked over to the statue.
"My lady please it is not finished..."
She held up a hand to silence him as she observed the statue. A wicked smile playing on her lips.
"Is it to your liking my lady?"
"My dear Andrew if you keep creating masterpieces like this one might think you in love with me."
The man named Andrew blushed fiercely, lowering his head.
"Isn't everyone my lady?"
She laughed and the sound was like music.
"I suppose you're right."
Angel felt a touch on her shoulder and the vision dispersed. She frowned shaking off Evander's hand.
"You had that same faraway look as you did at the shop."
"It's nothing. I thought you brought me here to show me the truth about myself and yet I'm the one being questioned. I have questions of my own."
"Alright. Saves me the trouble of deciding where to start. Ask away."
"Who killed my father?"
"Gorgons."
"Gorgons. Is that some kind of cult?"
"I guess you could call it that."
"So, Gorgons wanted my father dead. Why?"
"Because he was protecting something they desperately wanted."
She swallowed hard. Already knowing the answer before asking.
"Me?"
He nodded.
"No." she shook her head. She always thought it was her fault but hearing someone else confirming her fears was just too much.
"It's not your fault Angel. You didn't choose this life."
"Your wrong. Why would they do that because of me?"
"It's not who you are Angel. It's what's inside you."
"Inside me?"
He nodded towards the statue. Angel looked from the statue blinking.
"I don't understand. You mean her blood? Because I'm related to her."
"Not just her blood but her soul as well, not only are you her last living relative, but her reincarnate as well."
Angel looked at him as if he was nuts, but her mind was spinning at the possibility.
"Just a moment ago you felt it didn't you? Your connection to her. It's because you are one."
"She looks nothing like me. Reincarnates are supposed to look exactly alike."
"That's not always the case."
"So, what I'm the exception? I'm Angel Jones not Angelina Dracos. So, we're related and have the same first name. That doesn't mean I have her soul."
"It's not just the first."
"What?"
"Angelina Dracos was the name your birth parents gave you before they passed. Their names were Sauna and Lathan Dracos. Gorgons had been watching the Dracos blood line for centuries looking for the one that carried Angelina's soul. They sensed it in you the moment you were born. Your birth parents knew long before and decided the name was fitting. When Gorgons came for you, your birth parents fought them until their last breath while Dalia and Brian escaped with you."
"So, the mother and father I know are?"
"They were Suana and Lathan's best friends."