Angels & Magic: A Bonus Collection Page 6

He let her go. “This isn’t goodbye, my love.”

  Cassandra couldn’t keep the tears from falling. “I know.”

  “I’ll see you again, someday.”

  “Someday.” She unfroze the fae, and in the next moment, they and Kalen were gone.

  3

  Stella’s Soulmate

  Stella hurried through the winter air. No matter how long she lived in Boston, the winter was always unpleasant experience. She was so focused on getting into the library to meet her study group that she didn’t notice the guy coming out of the building until she had walked right into him.

  “Sorry!” she exclaimed, stumbling back a step.

  He reached out and steadied her. “It’s no problem.” He gestured to himself. “See? I’m fine. Are you okay?”

  She catalogued his appearance and nodded. “Sorry, again.”

  “Well, if you want to make it up to me, you could tell me your name and go on a date with me.”

  “Seriously?” When he didn’t respond, she held out her hand. “Stella. I live in East Campus.”

  “Robert. I live in Central Campus.”

  She whistled. “How’d you get so lucky?”

  “Just happened. When will you be free tonight?”

  Stella shifted her bag on her back. “Well, I have study group for an hour and a half, but I don’t have anything planned afterwards.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you here, then.”

  “What about my stuff?”

  “You can take it where I’m taking us.”

  “Well, I’ll see you soon, then.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  When she plopped her bag down next to her friend Maureen, her friend didn’t even look up from her notebook. “You’re late.”

  “I got caught up in something.”

  Her friend took a sip of her coffee. “I saw.”

  Their other friend Joyce piped up, pointing her pencil toward the door. “He lives in my dorm, you know.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “Really nice. Never seen him do anything but study and read. Actually, he occasionally plays the guitar.”

  “What type of music?”

  “Lots of Beatles.”

  Stella smiled. “Good taste.”

  “Well, I’m assuming he asked you out, so that was a given.”

  Ignoring the comment, she pulled her textbook and notebook out of her bag. “Okay. Let’s go over this because I need to know that I know this material. I need to do well on this exam.”

  She saw Maureen and Joyce shared a look. Can you hear her? As if one B would kill her, she heard them think. “Oh, come on, you know I like to have good grades.”

  “We didn’t say anything.”

  “You were thinking it. Don’t try to deny it.”

  They shrugged. Joyce pulled her textbook to the other side of the table and said, “Okay, let’s get this over with. You have a hot date to go on later.”

  An hour later, Stella waited for Robert, wondering if he had decided to not come after all. Almost fifteen minutes late, he appeared. He waved at her. She waved back.

  “Hey, sorry I’m late. My roommate was being a jerk.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, drawing her attention downward.

  She quickly raised her gaze again and met his blue ones. “I thought you were standing me up?”

  “I would never stand up a girl as pretty as you.”

  That made her smile. “Well, that’s a relief,” she said, distracted by the warm feeling she felt unfurling in her chest. Was this what her mother had described when she met her father? Did that mean this man was her soulmate?

  He said something that she didn’t hear. She said, “Sorry?”

  “I’ve already lost your attention. I must be losing my touch. I said, ‘Are you ready to go?’”

  She nodded and followed him as they walked toward the other side of campus. When they arrived at the hockey arena she turned to him. “A hockey game?”

  “Yeah, you like hockey, right?”

  “Is the sky blue?”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He handed her a ticket and she stared at the seat number.

  “How did you get these? I never get to sit so close.” She examined him with narrowed eyes. “Are you made of luck?”

  He laughed. “Not that I know of.” He placed his hand on her lower back and ushered her forward. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the team introductions, right?”

  By the end of the game, Stella hadn’t stopped smiling. Not only was Robert as much of a hockey buff as her, although that wasn’t totally surprising given the sport was their school’s pride, he was also intelligent and funny.

  He turned to her as they climbed the stairs behind the long line of other spectators leaving the building. “Do you want to go get dinner or did you fill up on all the concessions?”

  She gently pushed his arm. “That’s not fair. I told you to share the pizza and cotton candy with me.”

  “I wasn’t hungry. Besides, it was fun watching how much you were enjoying yourself.”

  “Oh, I’m sure. Every guy wants to see his date stuff her face.”

  “Hey, let me be the one to tell you if I don’t like something. But I have to tell you, I like everything I’ve seen so far.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. So, what do you say? Want to grab dinner with me?”

  She looped her arm through his. “Lead the way, sir.”

  * * *

  Stella turned her head and smiled at him. He gave her a weak smile back from the bed.

  “How are they?”

  She rubbed her round stomach and placed his hand on top. “Say hello to your father, Alec and Fawn.”

  They felt a kick, and Robert rasped, “Hello, rascals. It’s your dad talking. I just want you to know how much I love you. And I know I say it every day, but it’s true. I love the two of you and your mom more than anything in the world.”

  Stella leaned over and kissed him. “I know.” It was only a few months into the second year of his cancer, but she had a feeling that even with her healing him during every visit, he wouldn’t be with her much longer. “Get some sleep. I’ll be right back.”

  She stood up slowly and found her mother in the waiting room.

  “Is he doing any better, Stella?”

  “No, but he hasn’t gotten any worse since yesterday, which I’m thankful for. But I can’t keep healing him. I’m starting to burn out. And I can’t do that considering these two.”

  Cassandra looked around and, seeing that all the nurses were otherwise occupied, gently held her daughter’s face in her hands. “I’m so sorry, but there’s nothing else you can do. You’ve extended his life by a year already when doctors said he wouldn’t live to see another birthday. That’s more than even I expected.”

  Stella nodded, but felt tears fall from her eyes onto her cheeks. There was nothing else to do, and she had been mentally steeling herself for the time she’d have to say goodbye, but she still wasn’t prepared. Exactly how did one prepare to part with their soulmate? She knew it wasn’t impossible, her own mother had done it, but it was clear to see the toll it took on her.

  Turning, she walked back into her husband’s bedroom. “Robert?” She sat on the edge of the bed and moved his hair off his face.

  “Yes?”

  “You know how I told you about my magic a few years ago?”

  He nodded. “I know you’ve been healing me.”

  She pulled back. “How? I never told you. I always did it while you were sleeping.”

  “Did you really think I didn’t know? You said one of the things you liked best about me was my intelligence. And we both know that the medicine wasn’t doing anything after the first few months. And I’d say the doctors’ astonishment at me outliving the prognosis was a somewhat obvious clue.”

  Stella slowly exhaled, preparing herself for what she had to say next. “Well, I want you to know that—” she turned away, unable to finish the sen
tence.

  He reached up and touched her cheek. “It’s okay, Stella. I know what you’re trying to say. I’m ready to die, but be sure to tell our kids about me.”

  “I promise.” She leaned down and kissed him one last time. “I love you.”

  About the Author

  Zara Hoffman is a college student and has been writing since she was eight years old. She spends most of her time doing homework and writing new stories because if she didn't, her head would likely explode. She writes to share the crazy products of her imagination with the world and hopes that you find them as entertaining as she does. Her books are for young adults or the young at heart. After all, growing up is overrated. When she isn't wrapped up in projects, Zara can be found listening to music or hanging out with friends.

  * * *

  www.zarahoffman.com

  zarahoffman@zarahoffman.com

  One Possible Future

  An Angels of Sojourn Short Story

  JOYNELL SCHULTZ

  1

  “Hello?” Jocelyn pushed a branch aside while stepping deeper into the forest. A thorn scratched her, leaving a stinging line of pooling blood on the arm holding her flashlight.

  Looking through an opening in the canopy, she assessed the moon. Despite being only three-quarter full, the pale light still made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She should be safe from wolves, but there were other dangers outside at night.

  She would have waited until daylight, but years ago, she had learned the hard way not to ignore her visions. Her ignorance on the warnings of her visions cost her fiancé his life, and herself any chance at happiness.

  The forest opened into a clearing with a rushing, white-water river carved into smooth rocks ten feet below the path. The elevated trail hugged the river bank before descending some, squishing Jocelyn between the river and a sandstone wall. Her hand traced the cool stone as she followed the narrow path.

  The details of the vision she had this afternoon turned her stomach. Somewhere, tucked away in this tan and pink sandstone was a shirtless man, about Jocelyn’s age of twenty-nine, wearing nothing but a pair of white boxers. Blood washed down his back where a glowing sword had sliced off his dark grey wings this morning. The feathered wings had flopped to the ground and disappeared in a plume of fire, leaving nothing—not even ash. The man had to have been an angel.

  Jocelyn’s visions were unpredictable. Not only did she not know when they would hit, they were inconsistent. Sometimes she saw the present, and other times, she saw one possible future. If she intervened, the future may change. If she didn’t, like in the case of her fiancé, the future she saw would become a reality.

  Shortly after Jocelyn witnessed the angel with huge, white wings remove the wings of the dark-feathered man, her vision changed. The man without wings laid in the dirt, in a cavern tucked away in this forest. He laid on his stomach, wincing as he repositioned. Two, foot-long wounds leaked cloudy fluid down his bright red, swollen back. The man shivered, but his forehead glistened with sweat. Then she saw him die. The angel of death came to take his soul.

  Jocelyn wrapped her free arm around her stomach and pushed her glasses up as she followed the path from the river into a cavern.

  Despite doing everything in her power to change the future when a vision hit, this one was different. This man…angel…reminded her of her fiancé. His stoic features reminded her of when her fiancé had been hurt on a camping trip and grit his teeth when the doctors put his shoulder back in socket. She saw stubbornness in the angel, another trait he and her fiancé shared. Jocelyn had despised her fiancé’s single-mindedness at first but grew to think it was almost cute. How she missed him.

  She jumped when a deep howl snaked around the rocks and wrapped her body. Her heart pounded as she rechecked that the moon was not full, then looked back the way she came. She had mapped her way to the caverns and was almost there. She couldn’t turn back. If she didn’t prevent this future, nobody would, and she did not want more guilt in her life. If she saved enough lives, would it make up for the one she ignored?

  She took a few more steps along the trail, and a heaviness settled on her head, causing a throbbing pain.

  No, not now!

  A new vision hit her hard and fast. In one movement, she pulled off her backpack and sat on the trail. Sweat trickled down her cheek as her vision darkened. She grew rigid and flopped on the ground. Her body shook as if in the throes of a grand mal seizure. She clenched her jaw, so she didn’t bite her tongue.

  That wingless angel sat on a chair facing a water fountain in a park in Jocelyn’s hometown. His hair was cropped short and peach skin replaced his pale complexion. He held a coffee cup and watched children play in the water. He appeared healthy, happy, and healed—handsome even. Then the vision switched, and he looked older. A few distinguished wrinkles around his eyes gave him an air of wisdom. He now sat inside a home, at a small kitchen table reading a newspaper. Still alive and healthy.

  It was another possible future. A future Jocelyn could give him if she cleaned his wounds and helped him out of the forest.

  Her visions came in pairs. This morning, one showed her what would happen if she didn’t intervene. The angel would die. The other vision showed what would happen if she did something. She’d save a life.

  Sometimes helping someone was as easy as showing them their demise, other times she needed to make a more direct intervention. Jocelyn prepared for either outcome. In her backpack, she had a washcloth and a bottle of water to wash his back. She also had some antibiotic creams and a bandage to keep the wounds clean. A small intervention at the right time could make all the difference.

  Sitting up, she adjusted her glasses, rubbed the sandstone from her sweaty skin, and shook out her dark hair. She rehung her backpack over her shoulders and picked up the flashlight. Just ahead was the cavern.

  2

  The narrow trail widened, revealing the opening she saw in her vision. The angel had lost his wings here. She swiped her flashlight in a circle around her, revealing nothing but sand, stone, and a path where the trail continued. Jocelyn stopped and listened for any sign of the angel, but the anticipation turning in her stomach and her pounding heart distracted her.

  Jocelyn crossed the small opening and moved forward down the narrow path ahead until she could barely place one foot in front of the other. Her shoulders bumped into the side of the trail as she twisted sideways.

  Ahead, her flashlight caught a movement, and when the long, slender reptile slithered down the trail, a shrill scream erupted from her lips. She backed away but tripped.

  “Umph!” Her butt fell against the wall and slid to the ground as she fell backwards, her long legs twisted in front of her and her glasses slipped down her nose.

  This was ridiculous. She wasn’t brave, and she didn’t know if she’d even find this man. She should turn back and try again during daylight. Perhaps the man had left? If he couldn’t be found, she would have no guilt, right? Surely, she couldn’t search this forest for all eternity.

  As much as she repeated those sentiments, she knew better. With her fiancé, Jake, she had also thought that she had tried her hardest to help him. She had said everything she could to stop him from taking his car out that day, but he didn’t listen. The garbage truck had crossed the center line and sent Jake’s car tumbling into a ravine in a swell of flames.

  Jocelyn had warned Jake and told him not to go to work, but he said she was paranoid. That was nearly eight years ago, and guilt still haunted her. Sure, she’d done everything she could, except one thing. She didn’t tell him she was a psychic, and because she was afraid to admit who she was, he had died.

  Thinking of what other creatures could be slithering on the ground, Jocelyn bounced to her feet. She straightened her glasses, pulled her backpack off, and squeezed through the narrow passage.

  Eventually, the passage widened into a cavern. She swiped her flashlight around, and her heart hammered when the light reflected off a b
are chest. She lifted the light some, revealing a handsome, familiar face.

  In her vision, he had been so proud when he kneeled before the other angel. His jaw had tightened and fists had clenched when the glowing sword lopped off his wings. Now, he crouched and cowered against the rocks, a heap of flesh and bone. He hugged his knees and pushed against the cavern wall.

  Jocelyn set her backpack down and extended her hand. “I’m here to help.”

  “I’m fine. I don’t need help.” Unlike his position, his voice was confident and proud as he enunciated each word.

  Of course, he’d be stubborn. Her visions never led her somewhere easy. “You do need help.” Jocelyn pushed her wild hair out of her face and straightened her t-shirt. “I know who you are, and I know what happened to you this morning.”

  The angel scooted away, keeping his back against the wall.

  Jocelyn pulled out her water bottle and opened the top. She squirted the cloth she brought. “You have wounds on your back that need to get cleaned. If not, they will get infected.” She reached out and held out the rag. “You can wash them yourself, or I can help. Either way, I’m not leaving until I’m certain they won’t get infected.”

  He stood, some of that pride she had seen in her vision returned, but then followed the wall farther from her, giving her a moonlit glimpse of the sandstone and dirt mixed in the blood on his back. “Please, step out of my way.”

  She slung the backpack over her shoulder and concreted her position between the angel and the exit. “You don’t understand. If you don’t wash your back, your wounds will get infected, and you’ll die.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I’m dying anyway.”

  “We all are slowly dying. Isn’t that what living is? Come on. Now’s not the time for a philosophy lesson.”