Constant

Chapter 20

Douglas waited for me in the parking lot the next day. He looked as handsome as ever, dressed in expensive-looking dark jeans, a gray button-up shirt and a darker gray suit jacket. He always looked so put together. Accomplished.

He smiled when I reached him.

"Can I give you a hug or is that too soon?" he asked.

I swallowed. "Too soon," I replied.

"Fair enough," he said, opening the passenger door for me.

The car smelled of new leather and lilacs. A small bottle of lilac oil sat on the console between us. I shouldn't have been surprised.

"So what exactly does the prophecy say about me?" I asked.

He smiled widely. "Finally, a correct question," he said. "I know it by heart."

With a deep breath, he started reciting.

A timid bird upon the breeze,

Reluctant stays among the trees,She stays at dawn, where shadows play,Fears the light that turns night to day,Its fire wings withdraw from morning's gleam,And clings to dusk's fading dream.A timid bird ascends to skies so clear,Where endless peace draws ever near,In boundless blue, it gently sings,Eternal bliss within its wings.

The prophecy was like a song, a gentle melody in his voice. I frowned.

"How do you know it's about me? It could be about anyone," I said.

He glanced at me with a crooked smile. "You've been reluctant to join us ever since we've met you. We know it's about you," he said.

His answer wasn't good enough, but I let it go for now.

"I have another question," I said.

"Shoot."

"Do I still have to work to repay my debt for those broken bottles?" I asked.

He laughed. "No, Maya, you won't have to work another day in your life. Unless you want to. That was settled on your first gathering." I frowned. No one told me about this.

"What about the debt?" I insisted.

"The debt is void. Don't worry about it."

Relief should have been the prominent feeling, but doubt filled me instead. Why did they do everything in their power to appease me? Even if that prophecy was about me—why did they take it so seriously? Nothing in the words told me I was important.

Douglas parked the car, and I got out before he opened the door for me.

"Come with me to the library," he said, holding out my hand to take. I didn't. He pursed his lips in disappointment—or annoyance. It was always difficult to tell with him. I figured he should be happy I was even there.

We stepped into the library, and I saw the door leading to the basement. A shiver ran down my spine and I shuddered. Douglas led us to a pair of matching leather chairs by the window, with a small round side table between them. I sat down, but Douglas remained standing. He moved to one of the bookshelves, letting his finger hoover over the spines until he found what he was looking for, a heavy leather-bound book that looked exactly the same as all the others.

"This is one of our first," he said, glancing at me to make sure he had my attention. I rested my elbow on the armrest and my head in my hand, just staring at him. He opened the book, and flipped to a page near the middle. He took a deep breath and recited: