Among The Cloud Dwellers (Entrainment Series) by Giuliana Sica

Author:Giuliana Sica [Sica, Giuliana]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Green Darner Press
Published: 2012-02-21T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 22

“Your—bloody what?”

I didn’t like the frown creasing his usually smooth brow, not one bit.

“My soul mate.” I took a deep breath, took my eyes off his troubled face, ran a hand through my own hair, and dared to look at him once again. The frown had deepened.

“According to Evalena—” I stopped abruptly. Accidenti! Why was I blaming her? And how much was I willing to share? I had begun to believe what I had seen during my past life regression, and a small part of me wanted desperately for Gabe to be Xavier. The rest of me, the real me I’ve grown up with and knew well, was telling me to shut the hell up.

But I knew better. It would be only fair, after what he had told me about his accident. So I took a big breath, cast a sidelong glance at him, and as usual, as of lately, questioned my choices. Treading on unfamiliar territory, I had no idea how to go about it. Italians have an expression for such a feeling: Brancolare nel buio—dwelling in darkness. That’s exactly how I felt: about to jam myself against unpredictable sharp corners, walking ever so slowly, afraid to step into and be swallowed by a bottomless hole, keeping my arms wrapped around myself, jeopardizing my balance in the process, but too scared to extend my hands out and touch . . . the monsters of my own devising.

Exhaling painfully, I decided I would risk it. I knew no other way: honesty before all, even loss . . .

With difficulty, in the small space of my car, I told him about losing Joséphine and my promise at her deathbed. I wasn’t looking for sympathy or excuses. Fully aware of my decision, I briefly described my past life regression and how Evalena had helped me.

Gabe’s face darkened, quickly clouding over.

Xavier’s essence flared alive, beckoned by my words. Like a genie impossibly manifested from a magical lamp. Out of nowhere, I smelled dry hay.

The sky had gone gray again; the early afternoon sun had given way to rain-laden clouds. Drops hit the fogged-up windshield and brought me back to the present.

“You reckon I’m him?” Gabe asked, after a moment of silence.

“No . . . Yes . . . Perhaps? Merda! Gabe, I have no idea.”

“Do you want me to be him?”

“I thought you were him a couple of times. When you told me you spoke French . . . when you understood about me having lost track of dimensions and mentioned the wastelands . . . almost a reflection of what I saw to be real. ‘To let go and believe it fully.’ Hell, I’d like to believe it fully, but reality is a different matter. You’re so real, and I feel you so strongly that it’s difficult to worry about someone else in another life. The intensity of you and me as us, building a relationship . . . making memories with you is erasing my doubts. You take over and I stop thinking about it.

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