Angel Evolution - David Estes Page 0,2

like lifelines. This one was not on the sidewalk, nor did he seem bothered by the rain; rather, umbrella-less, he had crossed over onto the grass, and appeared to be on a collision course with her. When she looked up, what she saw startled her. He was tall, and was wearing a tight, white t-shirt, which clung to his skin from the rain. He was muscular, but not in a meathead kind of way. More like in an athletic, Hermes-messenger-of-the-gods kind of way. With sandy blond hair and a handsome broad face with a strong chin, he might have been a Swedish celebrity that just landed on a plane from Europe. She searched his eyes for color, and found it eventually—a thin ring of blue circled his exceptionally large, black pupils. At first glance his eyes looked only black. But his well-toned physique, movie star good looks, and black-looking eyes were not what had captured Taylor’s attention; instead, it was the strange glow that seemed to resonate from his body: his legs, his arms, his chest. Even his head was emanating light. Almost like a glow worm.

He approached.

“Have we met before?” he asked directly.

Taylor stared at flashlight-boy like he was an alien who had just passed through a black hole, complete with three heads, slimy tentacles, and at least fourteen eyes. “Not in this lifetime,” she replied.

“Well, I’ve definitely seen you around campus.”

“Congratulations.” She said it sarcastically, but felt a flutter in her stomach at the thought of being noticed by the radioactive stud that stood before her.

“I’m Gabriel. Gabriel Knight.” He extended a hand.

She took it and squeezed hard when she shook. It was something her mom had taught her. Women are not expected to have a firm handshake, she used to say. Be different. Despite her efforts to get a reaction from him, he just grinned at her. His grip was even firmer, like iron. Eventually she released his hand.

“I’m Taylor,” she said. “Taylor Kingston.” She mimicked his introduction, like a parrot.

“Nice to meet you, Taylor. What are you doing out here…by yourself…in the rain?”

She almost blurted it out, but managed to shut her mouth before her flapping gums betrayed her. Recovering, she said, “Just enjoying the day. But I’m not here by myself, you’re here aren’t you? And I would hardly call this rain.”

He grinned. “You’re unusual.”

“Now that’s a line you might want to work on.”

Still grinning, he said, “It wasn’t a line, just an observation.”

“Anyway…,” Taylor said, trying to end the conversation.

“Ah, I see that I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Gabriel replied.

Taylor noticed his eyes growing blacker, as if the faint ring of blue was being devoured by his widening black pupils. He looked down at the wet grass, scanning it like a security camera detecting an intruder. Reaching down, he plucked something from the earth. “Wow, a four-leaf clover,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever found one of those before. It’s supposed to be lucky.”

Taylor’s eyes widened as he handed it to her. She checked it. One, two, three, four: It was the genuine article, and the object of her futile search. She tried to hand it back to him, but Gabriel stopped her. “Consider it a gift…to match your ring.” Shrugging his shoulders, he turned before she could reply. Over his shoulder he said, “See you around, Taylor.”

“Bye,” she murmured, watching the glow worm walk away from her. When he crossed over onto the sidewalk, she finally turned her attention back to the tiny bit of greenery in her hand. She had found it. Well, technically Gabriel had found it, but she would have found it eventually. For a moment, a sense of peace washed over her and seemed to enter her body through her skin. As if by osmosis, her mother’s undying influence flowed through each and every pore, and then into her bones, her organs, her mind, her soul. But as rapidly as it had arrived, the sense of peace vanished, and was replaced by a sense of dread, of foreboding. How had Gabriel known what she was looking for? And how had he found the clover so fast? His eyes had been much further from the ground than hers.

Suddenly, his image flashed back into her mind and a lost memory was unchained. Like a wine bottle that had at long last been uncorked after an aging slumber, the memory of the nightmare was opened to her. It was as if her mind had been trying to protect her, locking the memory