


Divine Unearthly Fanfic, Book Four

by slinkymink



Category: Unearthly, Cynthia Hand
Genre: Supernatural, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-18
Packaged: 2013-10-21 11:45:09
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9403481/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/4797108/slinkymink
Summary: Clara feels utterly empty without her angel-blood best friend, Christian, around. But this next vision is sure to change her view on things...especially when it's so wrong and feels to right.





	Divine Unearthly Fanfic, Book Four

**DISCLAIMER:**

**I do not own any of the Unearthly Trilogy books. These characters and histories belong to the wonderful Cynthia Hand. This is a project of my imagination.**

**Enjoy, please comment!**_**Prepare for the next part...this is a sneak peek!**_

My feet scuff against the ground as I grope blindly through the Aspen Hill Cemetery, my face a mask of indifference. I think I own this expression. Maybe I don't.

I feel utterly empty. I have Tucker now; I don't need to be sad when he loves me with all of his unending desire that he insists he possesses. How cheesy and irresistibly cute. It's okay to be sad at Angela's mother, Anna's, funeral, because everyone's sad at funerals. Probably not when they realize that the one person they were dying to see was missing, but at least it was pure sadness.

Thank God Angela still couldn't receive thoughts.

Emotions churned through me like water, but I feel a slight sense of comfort at seeing her. It had been a while since Angela and I had been in contact-with Webster becoming ten and moving and stuff. But that doesn't mean I don't love her; she's my best friend. I'm always there for her and she's always there for me. Still, I feel empty, and the cold realization that the feeling didn't go away with my friend was devastating. I truly was still lingering on _him_.

I try to tell myself it was just a queasy feeling, to be brushed away. Most everybody had left to eat dinner like normal people, even Tucker, but I remain, insisting I need time with her mother.

Faithful, wonderful Mom, always there when I needed it. I miss her so much, that is brings this totally cliché heartbreak. Nothing is wrong with that. She only wanted to do what was right-it seemed all angels wanted to do what was right. It was the way of our divine nature. We were pure beings. My face twists. Now she was gone. Now the black hole expands.

No, I told myself, she isn't gone. She is just fulfilling her purpose, in heaven. That damned purpose. I wish I could crush the word. But I can't. I'm useless against that power.

I crouch down beside her grave, my eyes brimming with tears. I cry so much now, and Tucker gets a bit concerned. He actually thinks I'm pregnant, for God's sake. Yeah, pregnant with a guy I couldn't make love to because he vomited or went pale every time I glowed. I fight them back before it renders useless, and they spill down my cheeks. Betrayed by my own sizzling tears, I turn irrationally naïve. There isn't any comfort now, I think. Not even Samjeeza is here to mock me or riddle me. It's just me - alone.

_You aren't alone._

The husky voice vibrated in my head like the ringing after a bomb. I leap up from my perch before the grave with such shock I nearly pass out there and then. I swirl my head around in confusion, completely unrecognizing the bittersweet voice in my head. It's been so long since I've heard that tiny voice in my head.

"Christian," I breath, my legs going weak with realization. Just like that, the whisper of his name from my mouth, I feel whole again. Christian was here, filling in my heart with his warmth of presence. I melt like butter, but only on the inside. On the outside, I'm dumbfounded.

There is a sense of hesitation, like he was holding back, and I feel slight hurt trickle down my veins. He doesn't want to look at me. He doesn't want to see me.

And there he is, right in front of me.

He had just stepped out from behind a tree. I should have seen that coming – or smelled his sweet scent radiating towards me. It engulfed me, and my legs officially give out. Weak. He dives forward and braces me in his sturdy arms, still hesitant. There is enough space between our bodies to make me wistful for more. I block my thoughts too late, and he quirks a perfect eyebrow. _I have Tucker now. _I think. _I do not need him_.

"Oh my God…" I gasp, disbelief whirling through me. I don't think he's here. This isn't right. He wasn't at the funeral. I think I'm dreaming.

_Dreaming, huh? Am I that godlike?_ Normally, I would scold him for digging in my head, but I don't. I choke on a sob and nod, completely falling out in front of the guy I ditched ten years ago. That's when his arms encircle me and draw me close to his chest, his warmth flooding me with every vibration of his strength passing through us. I missed that shock so much that I cry harder, tears flowing freely from my eyes. I rest my head on his shoulder, and my head fits so perfectly it hurts. It shouldn't.

"Miss me that much?" he murmurs, his breath fanning my neck in that same way it did before. He doesn't want to hear my thoughts. He knows that I have Tucker, but he doesn't know about the—

Wall.

No.

I'm married to Tucker Avery. And I have been for five years.

Christian pulls away abruptly, his hands bracing my shoulders. Oops. I let it slip. Guilt showers my expression. I screwed it all up. _Screwed what up?_ A tiny voice that was my self-conscience snickered. I hate how often that bastard is right.

Very slowly, as if in slow motion, he reached down for my hand. The one with a molten hot ring on it. I slip it behind me. Close my eyes. His face contorts, and he draws completely away. I feel hollow again. No more Christian.

_You and Tucker…_ he can't say it. I hear the strain. Back to the thought stage, where we can't stand to speak. Empathy. Wonderful. We must look like idiots, sitting here with pained faces and not speaking. Wow.

_We're married._ I finish his though, looking away with shame in my head. I begin to slip my wall of protection over my mind, tears burning my eyes. I ruined it.

To my surprise, he gently grabs my chin and turns it to face him. I plan to bite his finger or something rabid, but then I see his eyes.

A rich green, no longer sharp with betrayal. They were soft and tender, practically drawing me towards him. No wonder everybody loved him; he was still hotter than the nonexistent fires of hell. But it was clear in his eyes.

"You haven't moved on." I whisper hoarsely.  
Now it's his turn to look away. I stare at the ground before he looks back at me, with his eyes frosted with tears. He's _crying_. Christian was crying because he still loves me.

_I had a vision, Clara._

Those words come back to me. Vision, purpose, destiny, fate. Those words that haunted me for years. They're back. He notices the shock register on my face.

"You didn't have a vision?" he rasps huskily.

"I can't believe you're still wrapped around me, Christian." I mutter, my eyes downcast. I slipped. Again. This isn't working. It never worked.

Without warning, he snags my hand, the one without a ring, and clasps it between his firmly. Right about now I feel like slapping him, but he has that same softness in his eyes. So I stare like an idiot. I know what's coming.

_I'm trying to do what's right, Clara, and it's tearing me apart._ Those are the last words that ring in my head, and then the world is spinning, and blackness engulfs me.

I'm in his vision.

The first thing I notice through the utter blackness in the smell of burning tires. It burns my nostrils and I gag instinctively, my eyes darting around as I try to find some other clue. And I come face to face with Christian, whose green eyes burn with intensity. _Get out of here._ He whispers, his words remorseful. He didn't mean it like that. I scramble away, my back slamming against some wall thing.

Oh dear God, it's happening again. The brilliant flares of nothing less than flames explore the sky, filling my lungs with smoke and making me dizzy. Instinctively, I call for Christian.

_Instinctively_.

Something warm grabs my hand. I look up. Those eyes; they're back. I swallow against a lump in my throat. _Close your eyes._

I do. I don't question him. There isn't a need to. I just do, and I feel him smile. With my back pressed up against the wall, my eyes closed, and my breaths shallow, I begin to feel weak. And vulnerable. Air brushes my cheek and I struggle to keep my eyes shut. It's hard. I can feel the closeness of his body to me, like a vibrating heat source like fire itself. His breaths caress my face. And then I open my eyes. He has me pressed against a wall, arms braced against the wall to hold himself above me, and his eyes are roving every inch of my face like he can't get enough.

There is a wild glint to his eyes; hunger. His eyes linger on my lips, and then, without warning, his crush into mine and the vision fades.

I come back, panting, my face ridden with sweat. So is he, I notice. Christian is shaking with nerves. Exhilarated. Must be some dream he wakes up to. I bite down hard on my lip, drawing unwanted attention as I quickly release it.

_Christi-_

And then he's kissing me, his arms curling around my back and fitting themselves perfectly into my hip and back. It's so sudden, so instant that I start to kiss him back, my lips brushing against his. But then I stand rigid.

_Tucker._

His name startles him into submission. He had honestly forgotten. But it doesn't prepare me for what happens next, after he draws away with a panicked look in his eyes. _Are you oka-_

I move without warning. His thought breaks off abruptly, because I've pressed my lips against his with blooming will. It's my turn to embrace him, my hand snaking themselves illegally up his neck and wringing into his curly hair with desire. Heat soars through my body, and I know what's happening.

I'm glowing. But I don't stop. I crush myself against him like the space between us is too little, and we intertwine like vines. I part his lips in full control, my tongue finding its way into his mouth hungrily. _More, more, more,_ I hear a chant.

Is it me, or him?

Only when his hands reach my hem of my shirt do I break the kiss and gasp for air. I open my eyes and instantly wish I hadn't.

We were _both_ glowing. His was brilliant, a soaring white light. Mine paled in comparison, but he seemed to like it as he caught a strand of loose hair and brushed it away from my face. His face was expressionless. But I knew better. I could see into his soul.

He felt _guilty_.


End file.
