Page 17 of Fallen Angel

Before Callan changed into Landon’s clothing, he insisted that he had to wade into the ocean. He lowered his bare body into the freezing water and allowed the waves to crash over him. Hannah’s entire body chilled.

She sat on a boulder outside the cave and tried not to stare too obviously at Callan. While he was quite handsome, it was the sense of familiarity she felt around him that she couldn’t quite understand. She crossed her arms and absorbed some warmth from her sweater, just as her mind tried to absorb everything that had happened—all she learned. And though she tried to grasp the fact that magic truly existed, and Callan claimed that she was a witch, one thought resurfaced:

Did magic have something to do with her parents’ death?

As Callan emerged from the ocean, Hannah slid off the rock and marched toward him, determined to get her answer, once and for all. “I need to ask you something.”

“You have many questions, I am sure,” Callan said, his teeth chattering. “However, they must wait until I have changed and replenished.” Hannah pulled her gaze from the defined muscles beneath Callan’s wet shirt and focused on anything else. A bird flying above. The wind swirling the sand.

She cleared her throat. “Jumping in the ocean probably wasn’t the best idea, then.”

“Seemed a shame not to after all these years.”

“Has it felt like years to you?” Hannah asked, still unsure how or why Callan was trapped within a sealed cave.

“Physically, perhaps. But ’twas only yesterday it feels that I lost you.” He gazed deep into Hannah’s eyes, and she could see his sorrow.

She wanted to ease his sadness. Even her desire to help him felt familiar. But how? She had no idea who he was. All Hannah knew was that his green eyes brought her comfort and his voice was a warm embrace.

“Lost me?”

Callan blinked, as if breaking away from a daydream. His demeanor hardened. “Prithee, may your questions be patient.”

Hannah sighed and handed Callan the jeans and sweatshirt Landon provided. His fingers grazed hers. Her skin tingled from his touch, and the sensation spread up her arms and down her spine. She blushed and wrapped her arms around herself, overwhelmed by a devotion or affection that she was sure didn’t belong to her.

Callan held the clothes out in front of him. “Such odd garments you wear.”

Hannah rubbed her hands along her sleeves to keep warm, but mostly to wipe away the tingling from his touch. “There’s a lot you probably won’t be used to,” Hannah said.

He nodded and returned to the cave to change away from Hannah’s sight.

In Harbor House,Bellcliff’s student food court, Hannah sat at a far corner table, eating an apple, while Callan slurped soup and shoved an entire piece of bread in his mouth.

“More.” He stood and returned to the buffet line. Hannah jumped up after him. He heaped a mountain of food onto his plate. Chicken wings, roasted potatoes, carrots, rice, beans, corn. When he happened upon the fast-food selection, he leaned in close to observe the pizza, hotdogs, and French fries. His nose twitched and he marched past.

Hannah couldn’t help but smile, especially when he seemed bewildered by anything sealed in plastic.

He poked the packets of chips and shimmied his fingers along the individually-wrapped Cinnabuns. “Strange,” he said.

He barely sat back down at the table before inhaling large mouthfuls of the assortment in front of him. In between bites, he drank from plastic water bottles, squeezing them too tight at first, causing water to spill on the table.

As he finished his third water bottle, Hannah noticed some vitality returning to him. He sat up straighter, releasing small, satisfying grunts between bites and sips. He seemed more alert, observing the students around him.

A few guys from the soccer team couldn’t stop staring at him as they walked by. They collided into a table of girls, but the girls barely noticed. They also seemed compelled by the new arrival. They giggled and whispered to each other, all while peering over at Hannah’s table. Even though Landon’s clothes fit a bit snug on Callan, he was still striking. Hannah ignored them and focused on Callan.

“Feeling better?” she asked.

Callan nodded. His green eyes brightened.

She wanted her answers, and she wanted them now.

“Why were you in the cave?” Her voice was serious and hushed.

“Right to the point, then.” He wiped crumbs from his lips.

“Who put you there?” Hannah wanted to ask a hundred more questions all at once, but she made a conscious effort to hold back.

Callan took a deep breath as if to mentally prepare himself to revisit the past. “It was I.”

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