Harmony Page 3

  An uneasy feeling churned in my stomach all day long. I brushed it aside as lack of sleep over the past few weeks. The nightmares were getting more vivid and intense. They were emotionally and physically draining. I wondered if Ian did more than just soothe the nightmares away. Maybe he took the brunt of them for me? It was something to ponder. There was also a gnawing sensation in the pit of my stomach that I was missing something vitally important in my recent conversation with Ian. Sitting in the darkened theater only added to my uneasiness, but it helped with the tension slowly building in my head.

  “Hey Soph, you okay?” Max asked. “You look kind of sick.”

  I managed a feeble smile. “Yeah, it’s nothing Max, just a headache. I’m okay.”

  The movie started, but I was oblivious to what we were watching. In my mind’s eye, I could see a different picture forming. It was like two different—no separate—stories being played simultaneously in my mind. I could vaguely make out Ian and me walking down a street. Holding hands? Wait, was this the future? No, the movie theater. Definitely the lobby. It was a bunch of random, jumbled-up thoughts. No wait…Ian was standing in the lobby, smiling, beckoning me to come. This is crazy, I thought. He was a figment of my imagination. A hero I made up to scare the nightmares away.

  Come on Sophie, snap out of it. His voice pulled me from the trance-like fix I had on the pictures forming in my head. Was he laughing at me?

  “Okay, moment of truth,” I mumbled, gathering up my courage. “Emily,” I whispered. “I’ll be right back, going for more popcorn.”

  Emily looked down at the popcorn bag in my lap. “You haven’t touched what you have already.”

  “Oh,” I said as I glanced down at my popcorn “I guess I need more butter.”

  Em shook her head in confusion. “Okay, hurry! The movie is getting good!”

  I quickly slid from my seat and walked up the aisle. It wasn’t a big theater, so it wasn’t long before I had reached the outer door. My hand hesitated on the door, not sure if I should go through with this. What’s the worst that can happen? I thought.

  I slowly pushed open the door, and the sudden brightness of the lobby lights hurt my eyes. I blinked and my eyes slowly adjusted as I scanned the lobby. I caught my breath!

  And there he stood. Ian.

  He was more gorgeous than my mind gave him credit. This was so surreal! He started walking toward me. His hair was blacker than I remembered. Dark as a raven. I looked around…maybe I was going crazy. Maybe this perfect male specimen was looking past me at someone else. Did other people even see him too? Maybe I did see dead people, like that kid in The Sixth Sense. These and other possible explanations ran through my brain.

  He smiled as he towered over me, taller than I’d calculated. “Hello Sophie.” His voice carried the same Irish lilt from my dreams.

  “Ahhh…hello,” was all I managed. I was mesmerized by his eyes. They were soft, like amber gold. Really, who had eyes like that?

  “It’s considered impolite in most countries to stare.” He was actually speaking to me with that sexy, Irish lilt!

  I inadvertently took my eyes off him. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I stuttered. Breathe Sophie, breathe. “Are you enjoying the movie?” he asked.

  I was confused; he wanted to talk about movies? “Movie?” I sounded like an idiot.

  “Yes, isn’t this a movie theater?” Ian inquired with raised eyebrows.

  I slowly turned red. What a spaz I could be! I couldn’t respond; my mind was doing double time, trying to process everything he said in my head and outside my head. Suddenly, the images from the past, present, and future collided. It was too much. I crumbled to the floor, but not before I felt Ian catch me.

  ***

  When I woke up, I was lying on a bench in the theater lobby with my head cradled on someone’s lap. Then I suddenly remembered what happened. I gasped and looked up—Ian’s face was directly over mine. “You!” I blurted out.

  “Yes, we’ve established that already. You’re looking pale again. Are you going to faint?” Ian asked with concern.

  “No,” I began. “This would be a first for me.”

  As I sat up, he handed me some water. “Here, take it easy.”

  “Who are you?” I blurted out again.

  “Do we really have to go through this again?” He was clearly frustrated.

  “Yes, no. I mean, I don’t understand!” I sounded like a whiney five year old.

  “What don’t you understand?” His patience with my lack of assimilating coherent speech was thinning.

  “How do I know you? I mean, I’ve seen you in my dreams, my mind, and thoughts, yet here you sit.” I pushed forward before I lost momentum. “How is all this possible?”

  “Well, first things first…” he said, “we’ve already established that I’m Ian.”

  I blushed, suddenly fascinated with the scuff marks on my boots. “I thought I made that name up,” I said quietly. Ian laughed. I continued to listen as he spoke. Apparently, he was explaining who he was, but my mind and body were numb. Once more, I blurted out, “How old are you?” This seemed important to me for some reason.

  “What?” Ian was caught off guard.

  “You heard me.” My anxiety levels were rising again. “How old are you?”

  Ian sighed. “Twenty-three.”

  My mind quickly began adding up all the calculations. “That’s impossible!” He started to explain, but I interrupted yet again. “How do I see you in my head?”

  Ian leaned back against the theater wall and stretched his long legs. It was hard to concentrate on what he was saying or what I had asked. Ian smiled. “You are rather direct, aren’t you? You know, I like that about you.”

  “Am I crazy?” I asked.

  Ian reached for my hand. “Soph, last time I checked, no.”

  I quickly drew my hand away as patrons started filtering out of the theater. His touch was intimate and affected me more than I imagined. Ian seemed oblivious.

  “Your friends are coming. Do you think we can go and talk alone somewhere?”

  I started panicking. “Sure, I mean yes. What should I tell them?” I wasn’t a very good liar.

  “Just say I’m an old friend. That’s the truth.”

  Suddenly, Emily and Max ran up to us with worried looks on their faces. “Soph, hey you okay?” Em asked as she sat down next to me.

  “You missed half the show,” Max said, eyeing Ian suspiciously.

  “I know. Sorry guys…” I began apologetically. “Funny thing…I ran into Ian here,” I said, pointing to him. “He’s an old friend of the family, and I kind of lost track of time.” I quickly made introductions. “Max, Emily, this is Ian. Ian, these are my best friends, Emily and Max.”

  “Hi, nice to meet you.” Ian shook Max’s hand.

  I sat back down, my head was spinning again. Ian was telling them that he wanted to spend some more time catching up with me, and would it be possible for him to drive me home? Max looked at me, trying to read my face. He was such a dear friend.

  I smiled. “It’s really okay, Max. I’d like to catch up too. Do you mind?”

  Emily tried to hide her excitement of being alone with Max. “You’ll call us tomorrow, right?” Emily said as she stood.

  “Are you sure?” Max asked.

  “Yes, go have fun,” I said, pushing them along. “I have a lot of catching up to do,” I said, glancing at Ian.

  It was colder outside than forecasted, and my light jacket was less than adequate. As we parted ways with Max and Em, I shivered uncontrollably. “Here,” Ian said, putting his jacket around my shoulders. “You look like a popsicle.”

  “Thanks, but what about you? You’ll freeze.”

  He chuckled. “Not likely.” Yet another cryptic response. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “Not really, but I’d prefer to go somewhere warmer to talk.”

  He steered me toward a diner across the street. It was buzzing with after-movie business, so I felt
relatively at ease. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about being alone with Ian, if that was who he really was. I still had a few lingering doubts. A hostess sat us toward the back, in a booth away from the riotous group of teens just seated before us.

  “Why do you not want to be alone with me?” Ian asked.

  I stared at his beautiful face, still not believing my eyes. “How? How do you do that?” I tilted my head.

  “Read your thoughts?” Ian asked.

  “Yes, even though I asked you not to,” I reminded him.

  “Sorry,” Ian replied. “I’ve been doing it for years, and it’s hard to shut off.”

  We looked at the menus, but I barely saw the words. I still couldn’t believe in was here in the flesh.

  “I’m not entirely sure, but we seem to have a unique connection,” Ian hedged a bit. “Does it bother you?”

  “No. I mean, oh I’m not sure,” I said, throwing my hands up in frustration. “I’m not sure what to make of all of this.”

  “It is a lot to take in at once,” Ian reflected.

  “Can you read other people’s minds?” I asked.

  “I can generally see certain things, pictures, or desires, but yours is the only one that is clear to me.”

  Hmmm. I pondered that.

  A waitress came, and Ian ordered hot chocolate with fries for us. I couldn’t help staring at him while he ordered. Apparently our waitress couldn’t either. I didn’t blame her though; he was perfection in the making. All toned, chiseled, and rugged at the same time. It totally wasn’t fair. I didn’t realize he was watching me too. I lowered my eyes in embarrassment.

  “Twice tonight,” he laughed, “do you like what you see?”

  “I’m sure you get that a lot,” I shot back defensively. How could one not help, but stare at him?

  After a few moments of awkward silence and my initial shock, it was pleasant talking with Ian. Like he said, we’d been doing it for years. My brain just needed to catch up that he was in front of me now. He knew everything about me, and we’d developed a comfortable rapport over the years. It was just weird to think that this imaginary world I’d created was, well real.

  “What’s troubling you now?” Ian ventured.

  “You can’t see?” I teased.

  “I’m trying to be respectful,” Ian replied mildly amused.

  “Where to begin…” I started. “I’m just trying to unravel everything in my brain.” He smiled. His smile made my knees weak. “I just can’t believe you’re real.” His eyes were veiled, and something was not quite right. The light amber of his eyes had intensified to a darker hue.

  Ian chose his words carefully. “Do you believe in destiny?” It was a fair question.

  “I’m not sure. I suppose I believe that we all have some cosmic purpose.” I grabbed a fry and nibbled on it for lack of something better to do. “I remember Grams telling me stories about people who had deep connections to the earth around them and their responsibility to balance the elements,” I explained. “But I just thought those stories were just that, stories.”

  Ian nodded his head. “Would you believe me if I said that we have a similar connection to nature?”

  There he goes again, I thought, all cryptic. “Theoretically speaking, I guess it’s possible, but that doesn’t explain the destiny part or you,” I said, pointing a finger at him.

  Ian drummed his fingers on the table—he was hesitating. “Have you ever experienced anything unusual when you’ve been outdoors?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.” I was a bit uncomfortable with where this conversation was going.

  “It’s hard to explain,” he began. “Have you ever felt like electricity was flowing through you?”

  “Electricity?” I shook my head, not understanding completely what he meant.

  “You know, a spark—a sudden surge of power.”

  I suddenly remembered a couple of things from the past month, things that I had brushed aside as odd. Flowers seemed to pulse and become more vibrant when I touched them or how the wind seemed to be alive and pushed me when I ran. It was hard to explain these sensations. Grams had laughed that I finally showed signs of a green thumb like her. “Is that one of our connections?”

  “So you have felt it! I knew it.” Ian leaned forward. He was really close now. I could feel his breath and it was heavenly. “Here, let me try something,” Ian said as he grabbed my hands. The space between us was charged; it felt like little currents and burst of energy sparking or humming.

  I leaned away from him, startled. “Did you do that? Did you feel that too?” I asked in amazement.

  Ian reached for my hands and pulled me forward. “Yes, I felt it too.”

  I would be lying if I didn’t say it was a rush; I could feel the little hairs sticking up on his hands. I was so caught up in the new sensation that I almost missed what Ian was showing me. I saw the ocean and the cliffs towering majestically over the rocks below; it was breathtaking. I also saw Ian walking in strange clothes. The past? Attacked, fighting. Too much blood. I shrunk back. Dead? Ian not dead? It didn’t make sense. Total darkness. More blood. The sparks were intensifying between us.

  I pulled back and blurted, “Stop it!” I gingerly rubbed my hands together. “What are you showing me?” Ian was as still and cold as a statue. “Ian, please say something. Anything. This night can’t get any weirder,” I pleaded.

  Ian stared at me intensely for a few moments. “Soph” he began, “you know what I am.”

  “What do you mean?” I managed to whisper. My heart was pounding.

  “I’m a vampire,” Ian stated.

  I choked on a fry, laughing. “Seriously? Nice try.” Ian’s face remained pensive and cold. I shuddered. “Are you serious? Oh my gosh.” I was dumbfounded. “You are serious.” What could you say to a confession like that? I sat back and merely stared, trying to size him up. Once I realized the truth of his statement, images rushed in at once, like the floodgate of my mind had been pried open, and for the first time, everything made sense. It was true, and I had known it for quite some time. I just hadn’t put the pieces together. Ian’s transformation into vampire played a part in my occurring nightmares.

  “I guess that explains why I’ve aged and you haven’t.” I smiled, trying to make light of the morbid confession that he’d just shared. Ian laughed and his eyes softened. I relaxed a bit too and sighed inwardly. Well, this was complicated. I liked the honey-amber eyes the best. I suddenly wanted to touch him, needed to touch him and make sure I wasn’t still dreaming. I reached over and laid my hand on his. He tensed. I wasn’t surprised this time to feel the electric current that sparked between us. It was more of a comfortable buzzing. I abruptly pulled back; what was I doing? Blushing I said, “I’m sorry. Just checking to see if I’m crazy yet.”

  “Believe me,” Ian began, “I’ve been hoping you weren’t.”

  “Weren’t what? Certifiable?” I teased.

  “You are too much.” He leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. All sorts of sensations popped up. I felt butterflies; I wanted him. Okay, wow that came out of left field. I bit my lip. Crap, he probably heard my thoughts.

  Ian’s eyes darkened. “Since we seem to be confessing a lot tonight, I should probably tell you that the feeling is mutual.”

  The saliva in my throat thickened as I gulped. I was out of my league. I wasn’t what you called a serious dater. Heavens, I’d never even had a boyfriend! Despite my lack of experience, I wasn’t alarmed with what Ian had said. Okay, the whole vampire thing would take some getting use too, but it didn’t seem insurmountable. Did it? Oh brother, who was I kidding? He was a vampire! One of the undead. Yet, I felt a mixture of conflicting emotions. I finally was beginning to understand the whole “destiny” speech, and why we were so comfortable with each other. We were soul mates.

  It should scare you, he said in my mind.

  I quickly changed the subject. “What happens now?” I asked out loud.


  ***

  Ian relaxed his muscles, more than happy to change the subject. It was difficult to be so near her. He’d forgotten. Her blood sang to him. It had since she was young, but he was sworn to protect her. Damn, this human feeling of desire was overwhelming and clouding his sense of propriety. She is so accepting, Ian thought. Always had been. If only she remembered fully, then she would know not to trust him. Ian’s thoughts trailed off. He wasn’t alone with his memories.

  What am I supposed to remember? Sophie projected to his mind.

  He’d have to be more careful in what he let her see. She was learning too quickly, and truth be told, Ian wasn’t ready to give her up just yet.

  ***

  “I should take you home,” Ian said.

  I glanced at my watch—ten o’clock. Reluctantly, I agreed. He tossed bills on the table, and we slowly walked to his car. I wasn’t at all surprised to see his choice of transportation—a black BMW Coupe; it fit him like everything else. “Nice ride.” I trailed my hand across the hood, “an M5 series?”

  “Actually, the M3 series,” Ian said with veiled eyes, “it’s a needed distraction.”

  “I need a distraction like this too,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Our ride back to Jefferson was a blur, not only because Ian was a maniac on the road, but because I was completely overwhelmed. I wasn’t sure what this all meant. What were we to each other, if anything? Where was this all headed? I knew that I had missed him. It was like a part of me was finally waking up, and I was excited to discover myself all over again.

  We pulled up to Gram’s house in record time. I was so reluctant to get out and have the night end. I turned to him and said, “I don’t want to go. I still have so many questions. Please come up, just to talk.” My mind pleaded for him to stay. I reached out for his hand.

  ***

  Ian wrestled with his emotions. It was a bad idea, he really shouldn’t stay, but his feelings overpowered any sort of logic. He looked at their clasped hands and could almost feel the warmth on his cold skin. It was too tempting, but he’d made a breakthrough with Sophie. As much as he hated to admit, he wasn’t ready to part her company either.