Stella Maris (The Legendary Rosaries) Page 15

  “Don’t you dare say it,” I cut him off. “And we’re going to church, yet you think you can get sex out of me? And on a supposed first date? Get real.”

  He laughed. “I was going to say hug.”

  “Yeah, right, stalker.” I pointed a finger at him. “And this isn’t a date.”

  He bent his head and went to bite my finger.

  I whipped it back, yelling, “Hey!”

  He laughed and closed the door, then headed around the car, slipping into the driver’s seat. He started up the engine. “Don’t know why you’re objecting to sex, considering what you did to me today.”

  My eyes widened. “So, you were going to say sex!”

  He grinned. “I wasn’t going to use that word.”

  I scowled at him. “You think I’m easy?”

  “Well, I was kind of hoping you were after what you did in the art room,” he said, backing out of my driveway.

  “I was only kissing you and we had clothes on.”

  “How about I rectify that and we do something much more interesting than confirmation class?” He winked at me.

  “I think you need to go to confession more often.”

  He smirked as he turned onto Highwick Park Drive. “The priest doesn’t have enough hours in the day for me.”

  I chuckled and shook my head, glancing out at the Hauraki Gulf in the distance, the expanse of water now black with night.

  He glanced at me as we headed down the hill. “So, did the old hag teach you anything useful today?”

  “Hey! Don’t call the sister that,” I said, not knowing why I was defending her. Maybe it was because I was starting to warm to her, what she’d taught me today really cool.

  Christopher continued, “Well, she is a hag. I’m sure that witch put a hex on me. I almost smashed into a car on the way home.”

  I smirked. “Or more likely you’re a bad driver.”

  “I am not! And it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s truly a witch. She looks like one.” He glanced at me as he slowed down for a stop sign. “Witches are real, you know.”

  “She’s not one.” Yeah, I’d hated her in the past, but she really had been interesting today and actually, dare I say it, nice after she’d settled down from the run-in with Christopher.

  “So quit it or you’ll get a fistful of knuckles,” I added, throwing in a smile to let him know I wasn’t serious.

  He pulled away from the stop sign, taking a right turn past Foodtown. On our left was the creek that ran under the highway, the walkway next to it dark.

  “You like to use violence as a threat, don’t you?” he said.

  I shrugged. “It was an empty threat.”

  “According to Stephen, your threats aren’t empty. He told me you dislocated one of his fingers once and punched him another time.”

  “He kept touching my shoulder, it was an automatic response. I also warned him I would punch him if he didn’t leave me alone, but the dumbass didn’t listen. And it was only in the stomach.” I smirked. “Though, he totally blubbered. For a rugby player, he’s a big baby.”

  “He told me he had a fractured rib when you did that.”

  My eyes widened, guilt slamming me like a four-by-two. “Shit! Crap! I wouldn’t have hit him if I’d known he was injured. How the hell does he still like me? Is he a masochist or something?”

  Christopher shook his head as he drove up the highway. “Nope, I think it’s because you’re a Merge. He’s naturally drawn to you no matter how much of a bitch you are to him.”

  My eyes widened even more. “Hey! Don’t call me a bitch. I hate that word.”

  “Then don’t be one,” he said, pulling into the medium strip.

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “If you truly think this is a date, then you suck at dates. Number one rule is you don’t insult your date.”

  He steered into the church’s driveway, parking alongside a dark Ford. “If you can’t handle being called a bitch, don’t act like one.”

  “While you’re a—”

  He leaned towards me, cutting off my insult with a kiss. Before I realised what he was doing, he’d unfasted my seatbelt and pulled away, breaking the kiss with a sinful smile.

  “You sure you don’t want to head out to Melody Point instead?” he asked.

  I stared at him, still taken aback by the kiss.

  He arched an eyebrow. “So, is that a yes?”

  I cleared my throat. “You insult me then expect me to make out with you just because you’re a good kisser?”

  A grin pulled at his lips. “You think I’m a good kisser?”

  No, you’re a fantastic kisser. “No.”

  “Liar. So, Melody Point?”

  “We have to go to confirmation,” I said, although I didn’t want to. But I didn’t trust myself to be alone with him. And why was I even wanting to? He’d called me a bitch.

  Before I could tell him to go take a flying leap off Melody Point, a sharp tapping came from his window. I grimaced at the sight of Stephen standing outside his cousin’s door, the blond buffoon glaring at us.

  “Seriously?” I said, not believing him. Maybe Christopher was right about the dumbass being drawn to my Merge mojo, because his persistence was freaking unbelievable.

  Christopher pushed his door open fast, whacking it into his cousin. Stephen stumbled back from the blow, falling onto his butt.

  Christopher climbed out of the car and headed around to my door, getting a loud, “You arsehole!” from his cousin.

  Ignoring him, Christopher opened my door for me. I climbed out, Christopher gallantly closing the door behind me.

  He leaned in and brushed his lips over my ear. “Maybe we can go to Melody Point after the meeting,” he whispered.

  “For fuck’s sake, man,” Stephen snapped. “You’re in front of a church,” his outburst not exactly church-like either.

  Not seeming to care, Christopher bit my earlobe.

  I yelped and clamped my hand over my ear. “Chris!”

  He pulled back, smiling seductively at me. “Are you sure we can’t ditch the God-bothering brigade?”

  “Yes,” I replied, shoving him into the blue Ford, though I couldn’t help a smile breaking free.

  “I suppose it can wait a little,” he said, smiling back, my little shove not bothering him one bit.

  Taking my hand, he led me up the grassy slope, towards the small school out back. I considered pulling away, but instead weaved my fingers through his, liking the feel of his warm palm against my cold one.

  Stephen stormed past us like a toddler throwing a tantrum. He threw a dirty look over his shoulder at his cousin. Christopher just smirked in response, the expression reminding me of his grandfather’s cousin. A little apprehension crept in, but I still didn’t let go of his hand, reminding myself they were different people.

  We stepped through the school’s front doorway and headed down the corridor, entering the small classroom at the end. Upset faces filled the room, a couple of people even crying. The convenor quickly hurried over to me. Nicky also rushed over, the both of them looking at me with concern.

  “Have you heard about Sister Cecile?” Janet asked, her usually perky voice deeper, emotion weighing it down.

  I shook my head, a sick feeling creeping into my gut. “What happened?” I asked, letting go of Christopher’s hand.

  Janet placed her palm on the small of my back, ushering me out of the classroom. Nicky and Christopher followed us, taking up position alongside me.

  “I’ve just been told some tragic news.” Janet brushed a tear from her cheek. “Sister Cecile has passed away.”

  I blinked at her, not believing what I was hearing. Yeah, she was old, but... “I was just with her this afternoon,” I said, thinking back to all the times she’d clutched at her chest. “Was it a heart attack?”

  Janet shook her head. “There was a very bad fire. Her cottage was engulfed. She didn’t make it out.”

  The word fire hit me hard, making me ta
ke a step back. My head snapped to Christopher. The look on his face confirmed what I was thinking. His grandfather had done it. I brought my hands to my face and let out an anguished cry, knowing the sister was murdered because of me.

  Strong arms wrapped around me. Uncovering my eyes, I jerked away from Christopher. “Your grandfather did this!” I screamed at him.

  He shook his head, horror tempering his features.

  Janet placed a hand on my arm. “They said it was an accident—”

  “It wasn’t an accident!” I yelled, still glaring at Christopher. “His grandfather is a murderer and he’ll pay for it. I’ll make him pay for it.”

  I took off before they could stop me, bursting through the doorway and into the night. I didn’t know where I was going, other than I wanted to kill Christopher’s grandfather.

  Halfway across the lawn, Christopher caught up with me, grabbing my arm. “You have to calm down,” he said, pulling me towards him. “You can’t go near him, he’ll kill you.”

  “No, I’ll kill him!” I screamed, so angry I could feel it in my veins.

  Then I felt something else.

  A shift in the atmosphere. No sound, other than what me and Christopher were making. I looked around, also only seeing the two of us. Nicky wasn’t running after me like I expected her to, while Janet was nowhere in sight. A second later I realised that Christopher must’ve done a shielding spell.

  Then my rosary lit up.

  Without warning, something shot through me, cold, powerful, terrifying. From every pore, every fibre of my being, water exploded from my body. It picked Christopher up off the ground and flung him backwards. I stared in shock as he hit the ground, his body jolting from the impact.

  A scream ripped through the air, along with a sudden onslaught of sound. The traffic, the wind ... and Nicky’s voice. My gaze shot to the school’s doorway. My best friend was staring out at me in shock. Then she kicked into gear, running for Christopher. She dropped to her knees, trying to help him up. He winced and pushed to a sitting position, his expression pained.

  I’d done that.

  Had hurt him.

  But I hadn’t meant to.

  Didn’t even know how it had happened.

  Nicky’s horrified gaze moved to me.

  She’d seen what I’d done.

  God! I didn’t understand any of this, other than I was soaked in water … which had somehow come from my body.

  I placed my hand over where the rosary was, hidden beneath my wet shirt and scarf. It was vibrating, thrumming.

  “What happened?” Janet asked, approaching Christopher. “Why are you wet?” She looked up at the night sky, obviously not having seen what Nicky had.

  Nicky opened her mouth, but Christopher cut her off. “A freak gust of water hit us, just came out of nowhere,” he said.

  Nicky clamped her mouth shut, not challenging Christopher, even though what he’d said was a straight out lie. Or maybe it wasn’t, because what had happened was definitely freaky.

  Christopher pushed to his feet and headed for me. I started backing up, shaking my head. I didn’t want him anywhere near me, terrified that the same thing would happen again. Whatever it was, because it didn’t make sense.

  None of this made sense!

  I turned and ran, needing to get away from Christopher, as well as Nicky’s stunned look and Janet’s confused one. I sprinted past the church and in between the parked cars, just wanting to go home. To be with my mum and dad. Safe. With people I loved and trusted. Who didn’t think I was some kind of freak.

  I was Catherine. Just Catherine.

  As I neared the highway, I spotted a dark car parked in the bus stop directly across from the church. Its internal light was on, lighting up what looked like Reprebus. The star on my rosary started glowing again as a strong pull enveloped my body, hurtling me towards the highway. But instead of using my loadstone to stop it, I continued forward, wanting to approach Reprebus.

  Wanting to kill him, the urge overwhelming.

  The same cold surge as before started welling up inside of me, moving through my body. This time I recognised it for what it was—and what it could do to Reprebus.

  Wanting to aim the deluge at him, I lifted my hands up as I stepped onto the highway. A car swerved past me, the loud blast of a horn reaching my ears, but not registering, my full concentration on Reprebus. I didn’t care about the cars or that I could be run over. I also didn’t care that people would see me use the power of the rosary. If anything, I wanted them to know they were living in ignorance.

  A bright light lit up my face, the blast of another horn sounding. I ignored it and went to take another step towards Reprebus, but was yanked back, strong arms wrenching me away from the highway. I fell, landing on top of Christopher as he hit the footpath, his arms still around me, his body taking most of the impact. He grunted and rolled me over onto my side, his expression pained. The sudden anger and intense concentration I’d felt only seconds ago was now replaced by confusion, my mind fragmenting, not knowing what emotion to feel.

  What happened?

  “You almost got hit by a car,” Christopher said, making me realise I’d voiced the words instead of thought them. Or maybe he could read my mind? I didn’t know. Didn’t know anything.

  He brushed my hair back, his expression concerned. “Are you all right, Catherine?”

  I went to reply, but nothing came out, shock taking over. My body started to shake from the cold and everything that had happened.

  “I’ll take you home,” Christopher said softly. He picked me up and rose to his feet, walking past a concerned-looking Janet, the woman asking if I was all right.

  Which I wasn’t.

  Christopher laid me down on his backseat, reassuring Janet that he was going to take me straight home. He closed the door and jumped into the driver’s seat, backing out and turning the car around. He swore as he stopped to enter the highway.

  “The bastard,” he snapped. “I knew he lied. Knew it.”

  He pulled out onto the highway, arriving at my house not long after, the anger coming off Christopher barely contained. He’d mumbled all the way home in Italian, sounding like he was cursing someone.

  He parked the car in front of one of the archways and jumped out, leaving me in the backseat. A minute later, he reappeared, pulling me out of the car. Mum was right behind him. She ushered him inside the house, her concerned voice calling out for my dad. He appeared from around the corner of the L-shaped staircase, coming straight to me.

  “What happened?” he asked, pulling me out of Christopher’s arms.

  “A freak deluge of water hit us,” Christopher replied. “I think it was a small waterspout.”

  Dad gripped onto me tight, his brown eyes wide with concern. “Are you all right, Cathy?”

  “She’s not hurt,” Christopher answered. “Just in shock.”

  Mum cut in. “Thank you for bringing our daughter home,” she said, obviously not realising he’d given me a lift to the church, probably thinking Nicky’s mother had. “Would you like a change of clothes? You’re drenched.”

  Shaking his head, Christopher backed up. “I’m fine, and I should get home.”

  Once Christopher had left, Dad carried me up the staircase with Mum trailing behind us. He placed me down on a chair in the bathroom, Mum telling him to get some towels.

  As Dad went to get them, Mum knelt down in front of me. “Are you all right, love? Does anything hurt?”

  I shook my head, knowing I would never be right again, because everything hurt. My head, my heart...

  My soul.

  Chapter 19

  ~ CHRISTOPHER ~

  The night sky showed no hint of light, not even a star in the sky. Just blackness. It was ominous, an omen of what was to come, because what had happened tonight, what my grandfather had done... I wasn’t going to let that fly, no matter the consequences. And there would be consequences—for me. Because whenever I disagreed with my grandfathe
r, my father got involved, which usually ended in me being yelled at or struck.

  I lit a fireball in my hand to light my way, the flames flickering from my fingertips fuelled by my anger. I headed for my grandfather’s BMW and placed my other hand on the bonnet, the warmth coming off it confirming what I thought: It had been my grandfather’s car parked across the highway. He would’ve been forcing Catherine forward, compelling her to step in front of the traffic.

  I continued along the cobbled pathway to my front door, the night shrouding the Italian-styled one-storey house. Dispelling the flames in my hand, I let myself in. The lights were on at the other end of the hallway, the sound of a football match playing. My father was probably dominating the TV, while my mother scowled at him without saying a word. And my grandfather… I wondered whether he was watching it too, not caring about the chaos he’d left in his wake.

  I entered the lounge, only finding my father. He was slumped in his chair, sleeping the match away. Spinning around, I headed for my grandfather’s room, letting myself in unannounced. I switched on the light, finding my grandfather in bed. Not believing for a second he was asleep, I slammed the door shut behind me. He shot up in bed, looking startled. But not as startled as I was.

  His face.

  Lines and wrinkles were etched into weathered flesh that should have been smooth and firm. He’d looked in his early forties when we’d arrived in New Zealand, but now... He looked in his eighties!

  “Your face?” I gasped. “What happened?”

  He stared at me blankly, not answering my question, his expression just as confused as my thoughts.

  I hurried over, taking a seat next to him on his bed. I reached out to touch his face, not understanding how he could have aged so rapidly. I’d never seen anything like it. Sì, he’d said the blue rosary was cursed, but for it to do this to him?

  It was unbelievable.

  “Did you kill the nun?” I asked, wondering whether he’d expended too much energy doing it, whether that had stolen years from his life. Or whether she’d fought back, aging him herself, before she’d perished in the fire he’d created.

  “It wasn’t me,” my grandfather croaked out, even his voice having aged.