Intuition: The Premonition Series by Amy A. Bartol Read Free Book Online Page A

down, making his hair slip down over one eyebrow. I hadn’t actually said the words “I promise.” I think he’s catching on to that, so I unbuckle my seatbelt and brush his hair back from his brow. Turning, I rummage through the treat bag in the back seat. “Twinkie?” I question over my shoulder.
    “Yes,” he says. I retrieve a twin pack from the bag and find a couple of waters for us. Unwrapping the Twinkies, I hand one to Reed.
    “So, you were thinking of ways to tell other angels about me?” I ask conversationally, trying to change the subject to something else.
    “Yes,” Reed replies.
    “But, you haven’t committed to the idea yet?” I ask.
    “No,” he replies.
    “Are you worried that once you let that genie out of the bottle, there is no going back?” I ask, chewing my Twinkie thoughtfully.
    He looks at me in suspicion, “Evie, you’re dangerously sharp.”
    “Well, look at the bright side, we have a new weapon in our arsenal— evasion,” I say, enunciating the last word as if it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. My smile brightens, however, when I hear Reed laughing as if I had made the funniest joke he has ever heard.

CHAPTER 3
    The Resort

    The resort that Buns has chosen is magical, or at least it is to me. The angels are not very impressed by it, but since they have probably been in several palaces at different points in their vast lifespan, their opinions have to be put into perspective. The lobby of the hotel is massive and resembles a Bavarian hunting lodge with large picture windows that face the slopes. There are huge stone fireplaces at either end of the lobby that are stoked with enough wood each to burn all night without having to add to them. I wander over to the windows as Buns checks us in. The slopes aren’t that large by the standards of most ski resorts around the world, after all, this isn’t the Alps, but it is perfect for what I want—a distraction.
    As I gaze out the window, I see a group of teenagers snowboard down the hill and meet up at the bottom. Their carefree laughter, as they congratulate each other on the run, is almost shocking to me. I’ve forgotten that such things exist; that there are people whose only concern is learning a new trick to impress their buddies. I press forward near the glass; I can just make out one of them saying something about the wicked air he caught while freestyling in the pipe. They unstrap their boards and begin walking away toward the lights near the lifts. I follow their progression, my fingers running over the cold glass of the window as I walk across the back of the lobby, trailing them until I run out of window and can no longer see them.
    Disappointment hits me when they are gone. They were probably about my age, but I don’t feel that young. I want to follow them, to beg them to teach me how to be young again because I’ve forgotten. I’ve let that part of me slip through my fingers and I don’t know how to get it back. Or, maybe that isn’t it at all—maybe it’s that I’ve forgotten what it is to be human—just human. I even call them “the humans” now, like I’m not a part of them. But I’m not, not now, and maybe never again. I’m surprised to acknowledge the sorrow that I feel for the loss of some of my humanity, even as I am grateful to be evolving so that I can keep up with Reed, now that I’ve found him.
    Arms snake around me from behind, and seeing Reed’s reflection in the window, I lean back against him securely. “What were you thinking?” Reed asks me as he nuzzles my neck.
    “When?” I ask evasively.
    “Just now. You looked—lost,” Reed replies in a gentle tone.
    “I’m not lost. You found me, remember? I was just thinking about how badly I’m going to smoke you out there on the slopes. It could get ugly for you, you really should prepare yourself for the worst.” I say, trash talking to cover up for my earlier thoughts.
    “Evie, you cannot be serious,” he says, smiling.
    “Oh, but