Revelation: Trinity Part 1 Read online

  She smiled as she drifted into sleep, warm with the promise of things to come, blissfully unaware of the watchful eyes that seemed to smile, before disappearing into the darkness.

  2

  Rose was brushing her teeth, standing by the large open window, when a knock signalled the arrival of Ana. Her friend looked polished in her undergraduate gown and a black pencil skirt. Killer black heels glistened at her feet.

  “Morning,” she chirped as Rose pulled the door open.

  “Hey,” Rose greeted, depositing her toothbrush by the sink and grabbing her own gown before following Ana out the door.

  The pair chatted together as they stepped out onto the shady courtyard.

  “Ben’s not here,” Rose frowned, looking around. “I’ll run back and get him.”

  “Sure,” Ana replied, shielding her eyes from the early morning sun.

  Rose turned back in search of room thirty-six, and found it almost directly above hers. She knocked on the door once, twice, but there was no answer. Fitting the spare key he’d given her into the lock, she turned the handle and strode right in.

  Ben was sprawled out in his bed, still asleep. She sighed and pushed his shoulder, shaking him until he stirred and opened his eyes.

  “Morning,” she said, giving him one last push.

  “Mmm,” came the muffled reply as he tried to turn away. She grabbed him and shook him some more.

  “Oh, no you don’t. Matriculation starts in twenty minutes and you need to get dressed.”

  She pulled back the covers as far as his waist and moved to the window to let in some fresh air. Ben winced as the breeze hit him and, grumbling incoherently, pulled himself onto his elbows.

  “Twenty minutes?” he asked.

  Rose checked her watch. “Eighteen,” she confirmed.

  He groaned and swung his legs out of the bed, rubbing his eyes.

  Rose turned to dig out a glass from the unpacked box on the side, pouring him a glass of water. “No time for tea. This will have to do you.” She was pleased to see he’d managed to pull at least some of his clothes on. She handed him the glass, which he drained in one gulp, one hand searching through his suitcase for socks.

  “I see you managed to get everything unpacked,” she teased, gesturing to the half-emptied boxes and suitcases strewn about the floor. He stuck his tongue out as he searched for his least creased shirt.

  “Went to bed. Will do it later.”

  She turned to the chaos, digging out his gown.

  “Ready?” she asked when she was done.

  He struck a pose after fiddling with his hair at the sink. “How do I look?”

  She laughed at his suitcase-creased slacks and dishevelled, white shirt. “Dashing,” she replied, shoving him towards the door. “Now move! Ana’s waiting.”

  ***

  Christian leaned against the tree in the centre of the courtyard, wondering where she was. The light morning breeze rattled through the leaves, ruffling his hair as he looked across the gravel to where the first years loitered in groups. It was unlike Rose to be late.

  He glanced up to her room once more, noticing the open window, and smiled sadly. He thought back to the young girl of six, who had to be persuaded into the bathroom, because it was tiny and airless. He remembered the nightmares, the fear. How she’d leave doors and windows wide open wherever she went in an attempt to escape the rising panic that threatened to overwhelm her.

  After realising that the claustrophobia was a by-product of the accident, her parents had moved to a bigger house, and hired a therapist. Rose had learned to manage it, creating coping mechanisms until the open windows were the only sign she’d ever –

  Christian cut the thought short, chastising himself. He had to stop thinking about her, had to remember his role. Because if she ever found out, became even remotely suspicious… he shook his head, unable to consider the consequences.

  “Professor Howard…” he mused out-loud, weighing the new name in his mind, as students steered their various courses across the grounds.

  Christian had played many roles in his lifetime, but never teacher. He was looking forward to it. He had fallen in love with literature through Rose, and the idea of being able to share it with her now, to interact with her as she got to grips with the course he had planned, made him smile.

  She finally stepped through the entryway, another girl at her side, only to dash back the way she’d come. He frowned, wondering what she was up to, before chuckling to himself. She’d gone to fetch Ben, he guessed. No doubt he was still in bed.

  Christian had always liked Ben – in particular, the way he could make Rose smile. He’d spent many a day watching them play together as children. Ben had always been very patient with Rose, and had been a big part in her recovery.

  Even as teenagers, as they’d branched out to find new interests and friends, Rose and Ben had remained as close as ever. Christian was glad that she could rely on him – even if he did begrudge him the privilege.

  Christian had considered enrolling as a student himself, knowing that that level of interaction would have proved beneficial. But in the end, tempting as it was, he’d ruled it out.

  He thought about it now: of lazy weekends spent as friends, studying together. He thought of takeaway food and bad movies, of making her laugh.

  No, he decided, as the familiar longing swept over him. Professor was best.

  “What are you doing here?”

  The sudden enquiry pulled him out of his thoughts to find the girl who had been with Rose looking up at him.

  “I’m sorry?” he asked, not unkindly. The girl repeated her question, and he pointed to the ID tag clipped to his jacket. “I’m a professor here,” he explained.

  “I don’t mean that,” she said. “You’re a Guardian,” she stated matter-of-factly, before she frowned, regarding his stupefied expression. “You are a Guardian,” she asked, “Right?”

  “How do you know that?” he asked warily, before his consternation drained away, seeing her for what she was. “Nephilim,” he sighed.

  “Knew it,” she grinned, looking smug. “I’m Ana.”

  “Professor Howard,” he offered, shaking her extended hand.

  “So, my question still stands.” She regarded him keenly. “I mean, you’re obviously here,” she stressed the word, gesturing about her, “Which begs the question: Why? Because, I thought you lot, you know, stuck to the Shroud?”

  Christian’s brow lifted. It was rare for a naphil to be so well informed – Nephilim usually didn’t even know what they were, let alone what a Guardian was – and he appraised her, wondering what to say.

  “How did you know?” he asked, as he contemplated. “Your kind don’t usually see me for what I am,” he prompted when she stayed silent.

  She narrowed her eyes, obviously determining whether to trust him. Eventually she sighed. “I can see it,” she explained. “I can just tell. It’s your colour.”

  Aura perception? That was unusual. She would have to be a first generation Naphil, and he wondered who her parent was – what side it came from. “Your father?” he guessed.

  Ana nodded in understanding. “His name was Jaoel.”

  The name was familiar to him – as was the man. He’d been a Guardian too, and to know he’d had a daughter… “It’s Rose,” he said, deciding to trust her.

  She looked at him blankly.

  “Your question?” he smiled. “I’m here because of Rose.”

  “Rose?” she blinked. “Rose, Rose? As in, the girl in the room next to me?” Her eyebrows lifted in surprise.

  He nodded.

  “But,” she began, obviously thinking hard, “what does she need a Guardian for?”

  Christian smiled. “You know I can’t tell you that.”

  “Right, of course.” She nodded, before her eyes whipped up to meet his. “Does she know? Is that why you’re here?”

  “No,” Christian shifted under her gaze. “She… doesn’t know me.”
<
br />   Ana pondered the implications of this for a moment, her eyes searching his face. “Is she in danger?” she asked, more curious than concerned.

  “I don’t know yet,” he answered, truthfully. “It was requested that I… take on a more active role. Until we know for sure.”

  Ana nodded again, lost in thought.

  “Perhaps…” She smiled, her wide green eyes bright with excitement. “Perhaps I could… help you out? She is my neighbour after all. I could let you know if I see anything suspicious…”

  Christian considered the advantage of having a student keeping an eye on Rose. Guardians were viewed as heroes to the lower Choirs. She would feel honoured to help him – and the level of access that he’d denied himself would be open to her.

  “Couldn’t hurt,” he shrugged, grinning at her hopeful expression.

  Smiling, Ana nodded back across the courtyard where Rose and Ben had emerged. “I better go.” She flicked him an excited smile before heading back across the grass.

  Christian watched her, considering this new development. It wasn’t often he got accosted by Nephilim, but there was no doubt that she could be useful.

  Ana reached the edge of the lawn, where Rose and Ben were waiting, and he moved out of sight, heading towards the Matriculation assembly that waited.

  ***

  Rose looked around as they took their seats, relieved to find they weren’t the last in. She watched as the few remaining students shuffled through the doors, before turning to Ana, who was studying her face with a look of puzzled interest. Rose’s hand went up to her hair, self-consciously smoothing the wisps of her fringe, but before she could ask, Ana dropped her gaze, looking to the front of the hall.

  Rose looked too, spotting a round woman with a friendly face, who she guessed was the Head of Faculty. She was fiddling with a microphone, shortening the stand to bring it level with her chin.

  The hall murmured with chatter, and Rose continued to gaze idly around, before a man sitting at the teachers’ table caught her full attention.

  Gold-blond hair, swept neatly back, and bright blue eyes that crinkled when he smiled. His top lip was a perfect cupid’s bow, and his strong jaw was dusted with the barest hint of stubble. His broad shoulders were evident beneath the crisp white shirt and grey jacket, as Rose traced the lines of him in awe.

  He was beautiful. Perfect, even – and so achingly familiar that Rose’s heart skipped a beat and her breath caught in her throat.

  “Good morning!” The woman addressed the hall, her cheery voice amplified across the crowd of students via crackling speakers on the wall. She waited for the chatter to die down before continuing. “My name is Professor Thomas, and I’m pleased to welcome you all to what I hope will be a very successful year at Trinity College!”

  Rose, barely glanced at the professor as she continued, heard nothing of the carefully prepared speech. She only stared at the man who sat, oblivious, before her; a memory from her past, come to life.

  She exhaled dizzily, not yet comprehending. It was impossible. He was impossible – yet there he was.

  He was exactly as she knew he would be.

  Rose sat back in her chair, captivated by the hands clasped on the table in front of him – hands that had once reached for her, pulled her to safety. She’d seen those blue eyes blown wide with fear and determination, had been held against that chest as she’d shivered in shock. The smell of him – like warm cinnamon - still lingered in her memory. He’d towered over her as she lay, huddled and bruised, in the wreckage of the car, his outline bathed in a silver-white glow.

  No one else had seen him that day. The ambulance crew had found her curled up and crying out for her white-winged angel as tears streamed down her face. They’d convinced her she’d imagined him as she learned to manage her trauma. So she’d conjured him again and again, whenever she’d needed to feel safe.

  He’d turned into a friend of sorts, over the years. She’d whispered her secrets to him, imagining him there – always attentive, always protecting her…

  Applause rang out through the hall as Professor Thomas finished her speech, and Rose shook her head to dispel the lingering images. She’d not thought of her angel in a long time, and the clarity of her memories was unsettling.

  He was introduced as Professor Howard – the newest member of the faculty, and a Professor of English Literature – and Rose felt her heart stop as she realised that this was her course. He was her lecturer.

  His eyes flicked up, then, as if hearing the stutter of her heart, and caught her eye through the crowd. She stilled as his gaze brushed over her, tension flooding her veins, but he showed no sign of recognition, not an ounce of knowing, before he looked beyond her, through her, eyes sweeping across the rows of students. Rose dropped her shoulders in defeat, surprised at the disappointment that flared up inside.

  Applause sounded once more and, as Ben nudged her shoulder, she became conscious of movement around her. Everyone was filing out.

  Ignoring Ben’s concerned look, Rose turned and walked out into the sunshine, leaving the mysterious Professor Howard inside.

  3

  The Dining Hall was her favourite so far, Rose decided, as she stepped into the large stateroom. Wooden panelling gleamed in the light of the chandeliers, suspended from the vaulted ceilings. Portraits in gilded frames hung at intervals around the room, and the long rows of wooden tables, shrouded in pristine white fabric and dotted with candles, added to the effect.

  “It’s like Hogwarts,” Ben declared as he followed her in, his gown already askew. “Look, it’s even got a high table.”

  Rose looked up as she slid into her chair, and promptly wished she hadn’t. The Professor was already seated, looking ridiculously handsome in black suit and tie, his hair tamed back. His eyes were on the menu he held in his hand but, as Rose watched, her heart thudding in her chest, his gaze lifted to hers. Blood rushed in her ears, every part of her on high alert, but he looked away again. She looked down at her plate.

  “Are you okay?” Ben asked, concerned. “You’ve been weird all day…”

  Rose lifted her gaze, smiling thinly. “I’m fine,” she said. “Just… thought I saw somebody is all.” She resisted the urge to look up at the head table again.

  “Who?” asked Ana, seated opposite.

  “My new Professor,” Rose said, carefully, nodding thanks to the man pouring water into a crystal glass in front of her.

  “Professor Howard?”

  Rose raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “He’s hot,” Ana shrugged, unabashed, and Rose huffed a laugh.

  “Who did you think he was?” prompted Ben.

  Rose waited until the server had left before muttering, quietly, “Christian.” She bit her lip, waiting as Ben’s face moved from confusion to understanding.

  “Christian?” he exclaimed, causing the people around them to look at him curiously. “You mean – Your Christian?” he confirmed, glancing over his shoulder at the high table as he lowered his voice. He laughed as she nodded meekly. “That’s what he looked like?” he raised his eyebrows, before frowning in mock consternation. “No wonder you dumped me,” he sighed dramatically.

  Rose laughed in spite of herself. “Don’t be stupid,” she teased, her thoughts diverted for the moment. “I dumped you because you were a terrible kisser.” She thought back fondly to the day they’d considered moving their friendship forward – and the uncomfortable kiss that had followed – as she reached for her water glass.

  “That’s because kissing you was like kissing my sister,” he exclaimed, shuddering in mock horror. They laughed at Ana’s stunned expression.

  “We were fourteen,” explained Rose, taking a sip. “It lasted a whole afternoon.”

  Ana shook her head at the pair of them.

  “So who’s Christian?” she asked as the servers came back round – offering wine this time.

  Ben looked to Rose, who nodded, giving him permission to explain.

&nbs
p; “He was Rose’s friend,” he grinned at the memory. “Her Guardian angel.”

  Ana choked on her water.

  “He wasn’t real,” he clarified, bemused. “Imaginary. You know,” he shrugged, “Kids' stuff.”

  “Why?” Ana asked, glancing at Rose. “I mean, why did you… create him?”

  Rose twirled a strand of hair between her fingers as she thought of how to explain. “Do you remember what I told you,” she eventually began, “about the car accident?”

  Ana nodded.

  “Well, there was more to it than that.” She took a deep breath, steeling herself to explain. “My Uncle had taken me and my little brother, Zach, out for the day,” She began. “We were heading home, when another car skidded out of control. It hit the driver’s side door, and the car buckled from there to the rear bumper.” She knew the accident report by heart. “The force caused our car to roll onto its side, leaving me trapped. My Uncle and Brother died instantly.” Her eyes stung in memory. “He was only four.”

  Ben took her hand under the table.

  “I’m sorry,” Ana murmured, sorrow in her gaze.

  Rose sat up, forcing herself to continue, before she chickened out. “I couldn’t get out. The front seat was wedged against my legs, the seat belt was digging into my shoulder, I… I couldn’t move.” She faltered as the familiar feeling of claustrophobia bubbled up in her lungs. Ben squeezed her hand in reassurance, helping her on. “But then the car tipped back over.”

  She paused, hesitating, as she reached the point to her story.

  “I remember watching as a man with… with wings… pulled the door away – right off its hinges.” The tightness in her chest dispelled, the remembered image enough to take away her lingering fear. “He was glowing,” she added, smiling at the thought. “He saved my life.”

  Ana was staring, an odd look on her face, so she hastily continued.

  “I used to think about him, after that.” She toyed with the glass in her hand, not really seeing it. “I’d picture him there if I was sad or scared.” She smiled fondly. “He made me feel safe.”