Thirty-Three

“T

hat’s the second bit of surprise I’ve had today,” Finn said as he greeted me on the sprawling lawn of his property that afternoon.

I’d been reading my mother’s notes on the cliff overlooking the ocean and trying to quell my impatience to leave. I detested that I was without transportation. Not that I knew where I’d go next, but Christ Church was definitely on my list. I tried to use the computer in Finn’s library, but it was password protected, and no one was home to ask. I took the opportunity to look through Ina’s books but found nothing on Scintilla or legends of people with silver auras.

Later, I figured I’d go to an Internet café and research the historical significance of threes. I had found my mother’s journal but hadn’t needed the key to unlock it. So what was the key about and what was it trying to tell me? The only reference to a key was this entry in her notes:

We have a name! Scintilla.

It means “little spark.” What it means to me is there are, have been, others like me. It means I have a history, even if I don’t know what it is. It means…I’m not alone.

South America was a gold mine. The spirals led me there. Seems that spirals have marked the depth of human history and the breadth of the entire world. What began as a foray into pre-Columbian artifacts featuring spirals, led to learning about Earth’s most energetically charged location, the Elqui Valley, in Chile. Earth’s magnetic center. It’s a magical place. I discovered so much there, so much about myself, and I discovered love sweet LOVE.

An offhand comment about the Scintilla holding the “keys to heaven” has me pursuing another avenue…

I snapped the book closed and laid it on my lap. “What surprise?” I asked Finn.

“You’ll get to meet my da. He’s home.”

“Oh?” I said, trying to sound upbeat. “Great.” Another parent to loathe my presence.

His brows rose. “He’ll adore you.”

I changed the subject. “Did you tell your mother about me running away? The way she talked this morning, it was like she knew my dad would be worried about me.”

Finn looked at me, startled. “I told her nothing. But it wouldn’t surprise me if my mother was two steps ahead. She always is. Could be that she assumes your dad worries abnormally about everything like she does.”

I studied his profile. “You sure you said nothing?”

He gave me a sideways glance. “I tell my mother as little as possible. It’s like giving fookin’ bombs to terrorists.” He winked and tossed a rock over the cliff’s edge.

We walked in the house, hand in hand. I squeezed harder as we entered the large blue-and-white sitting room. It was like walking into the sky. Aged, painted clouds floated above us on the soaring ceiling. His parents were already there, seated in two high-backed chairs with a little table between them. Two crystal glasses of wine rested on a doily.

Finn’s father jumped to his feet. His hip bumped the table and the wine wobbled and splashed a bit, leaving dots of red on the white lace. Ina settled the table with one hand. She didn’t get up but managed the barest hint of a smile at me.

“Cora, my father, Fergus Doyle.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Doyle,” I said, extending my hand.

“F-Fergus is fine,” he muttered. His hands shook a bit when he took mine between them. He looked at me like I was an apparition. A ball of energy rolled together in our pressed palms. Then the creepy sensation like someone pulling a vein out of the middle of my hand. I pulled away. “Welcome, Cora.”

I felt a little dizzy and concerned that someone so unsettled was a doctor. I hoped he wasn’t a surgeon. “Thank you.”

Fergus walked back to the chair next to Ina’s. I couldn’t see his face, but I could read hers. It said, What did I tell you? His aura flared erratically, shifting colors—red, seaweed, white, and yellow—like he didn’t know how he should feel.

Finn clearly detected it, too. His skin creased hard above his nose as he watched his father slam his wine in one long gulp and refill his glass.

“Sit down, won’t you?” Fergus said.

“No, Pop. I think I may take Cora out for a bite.”

“Nonsense,” Ina spat with a smile—a real skill. “Your da has just gotten home and wants to spend time with you. We have family coming for supper.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said. “But I’ll be getting a cab to town. I-I have some things to do there.”

“We’d love for you to stay and join us,” Fergus said. His aura pulsated with more excitement than should be healthy. He was so different from his self-assured, easygoing son.

“Sounds great,” I ventured. I hoped it didn’t drip with sarcasm the way it did in my head.

Finn rubbed a small circle on my back, leaving a swirl of warmth. “You sure? I’d really enjoy it so much more with you here.”

I looked at the clock and reasoned that it was already late afternoon anyway. By the time I got into Dublin, the church would be closed. Maybe I could use a computer here at the house after dinner. I sat down while Finn walked over to a cabinet and pulled out two more wineglasses. He poured the garnet liquid into both and handed me one.

“Finn,” his mother called to him softly but laced with warning. “I don’t think that’s entirely—”

“Cheers, Mum.” He raised his glass in her direction. “Here’s to being together.” Then he clinked his glass with mine.

“Already starting on the wine without me!” boomed a voice. Uncle Clancy burst in the room, and I actually exhaled in relief. I offered him my glass. “Thank you, child. It’ll be whiskey for me. Sure you don’t need that to warm up? Atmosphere is like cold, hard shite.”

I stifled a laugh.

Clancy hugged Fergus warmly. “Good to have you home,” he said. They gave each other big man-pats on their backs, the kind that sound like they’re trying to knock the teeth out of each other’s faces. I eased back in my chair.

By the time dinner rolled around, Clancy was so boisterous that he took up all the space in the room, leaving none for my unease. Still, Ina would scarcely make eye contact with me, and Finn’s father treated me like a rare breakable. How did someone so normal come from such odd parents?

“I’ve never had a meal so fancy in my life,” I whispered to Finn. “Not even at a restaurant.”

“It’s because of you,” he whispered back.

I’d perhaps indulged in too much wine—no surprise, since I’d never drunk before—because next thing I knew, I found myself saying to Ina, “I saw your books in the library and noticed you have an interest in auras. I share your interest.”

Fergus choked a bit and took a sip of wine.

Ina’s aura shrank back a few inches. “It’s merely something that fascinates me,” she answered coolly.

“Yeah, the way a banker is merely fascinated with money,” Finn retorted. Ina gave Finn a warning look, and suddenly both Fergus and Ina were passing dishes around the table.

Finn leaned in close to me. “You, too, huh? You never mentioned auras before.”

“Yes, I—”

“How long are you home for this time?” Clancy asked Fergus, who shot a look at Ina and murmured something about it being indeterminate.

The dinner talk soon eased into a rhythm that was obviously familiar to them, chat of the pub, and work, and neighbors. Eventually, Clancy burped and scooted his chair back loudly. “Welp, I’m off. I’m fluthered and flah’ed out. Night!” He squeezed my shoulder, and Ina and Fergus began clearing dishes, leaving Finn and me alone in the dining room.

“They’re insane. I’m going to be the one to say it. What is it about you that’s got them all acting like gits?”

“My sparkling personality?” I asked. Giovanni’s voice suddenly rose in my head. Scintilla. The spark.

Finn watched me closely. “Where did you go, just then?”

I smiled. “I’m here. With you.”

His fingers traced the line of my neck. “I want to kiss you.”

“Do.”

“There,” he said, tracing my collarbone. “And right here.” His finger ran along my jaw. “Definitely here.” He teased his fingertips over my cheek.

A warm blush flushed my face.

“How is it possible that every kiss is the most satisfying in the world, and still it’s never enough?” He leaned in, his breath heavy with wine that smelled of chocolate and blackberries. I wanted to know if his tongue tasted like that, too.

Before I knew what happened, we were in each other’s arms. Our mouths dancing, our hands clutching. I gasped when he tilted my head back and kissed the soft slope of my breast. Suddenly, he pulled away and stood. His voice strained to say, “I’m sorry, Cora. I have to get a bit of air.”

“What did I do?” I asked to his back.

“No. No. It’s me. Right now, I feel like I can’t control myself with you. It’s mad. I want you so completely. I’ve never been this way. It’s more intense than anything I’ve ever known. It’s not right. I’m…I’m sorry.”

He left me sitting in the dining room with my lips on fire, my body wide-awake and aching. He was worried about taking what I wanted to give?

I tiptoed past the kitchen in search of the doorway that would lead to my princess tower. I didn’t want another attack of the awkward, so I hoped no one would see or hear me creep by. I could hear Finn’s parents in the kitchen in the middle of a heated, whispered argument.

“I disagree,” Fergus whispered. “I think it’s amazing he’s found someone like her. A miracle.”

How could I walk away after hearing that?

Ina responded, “You and I both know the implications.”

“What’s the drawback? He’s found what the rest of us could only hope to find in our lifetimes.”

I suddenly liked Fergus Doyle very much.

“Dammit! You know the drawbacks!” A hand slapped loudly on wood. “And what are the odds that someone like her would fall for someone like Finn?”

I chewed my lip. I couldn’t even pretend to understand what she meant. Finn was amazing, and before this, Ina had acted like I was garbage.

Fergus’s voice remained calm. “If the legends about Scintilla are true, it could benefit him. It could benefit us all. It was all I could do not to…”

Silence. Every pulse point in my body slammed in alarm against my skin. Faye had told me there were people who wanted nothing more than to find someone like me.

These two knew what I was.

“You can’t tell me you haven’t thought of it yourself,” he said, defensively. “What’s the matter?”

A great sea of silence. I slipped under its current. Waiting. My fingers dug into my palm.

“Look at me, Ina. Have you taken from her?”

Sniffle.

Footsteps moved. I lurched back into the shadows behind the door.

“Do you have no control? How could you? What happened? Tell me what happened!”

“I couldn’t help it!” Her voice lashed the air and cracked against my body. “I wish I hadn’t, Fergus. She gave me a power, my sortilege. It’s true what we’ve heard, the Scintilla’s energy gives us our sortilege. I always wondered what mine would be, fantasized about it, even. But now I know, and it’s bloody dreadful. Now…now I can see the blackest hole in every heart.”