Pages of Pigments Part III

I didn't forget about the third installment of Pages of Pigments! As you know, the later I blog the more trouble I'm causing. Standard warnings, this is the not the official edited version--soon though. Don't forget to enter the giveaway which is posted below the excerpt. 

Just a reminder, Heroes and Vallenez is currently FREE for Kindle. Go check it out. 

 “Wait here,” Oliver instructed.

Sure, William thought. I’ll just stand here, at the foot of the stairs in a mostly empty building. Bloody. That doesn't look suspicious at all.

Oliver ran out the door, and down the street. William watched until he was out of sight, and then heaved a large sigh, which he immediately regretted. The gash across his chest tore a little bit further at its edges, sending new little streams of blood down his chest, reminding William once again that it hurt.

William assumed Oliver had gone to get his car, though he hadn't said as much. He tried to occupy his time by tracing the wood grains of one of the large banisters; but secretly, he hoped he would slip back into the time of castles and torchlight.

Many of The Illusionists had visions of their past lives, but William never really had. He often had moments of déjà vu but those moments seemed to be growing fewer and farther between. Now William knew that was because he wasn't who he thought he was, not at all.

“Man, are you okay?” a voice asked, and William jumped.

New drops of blood appeared, and slid down to join the rest.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out or anything, but it’s not every day I meet a guy bleeding and blocking the way.”

William mumbled an apology so quiet that even he couldn't hear it before stepping away from the stairs he had forgotten he was standing in front of.

The boy that was staring at William with concerned green eyes had hair so orange it should have been on fire, and freckles like endless stars in the sky.

“No, I just mean—do you need me to call someone or something? I don’t know if you noticed, but, you’re bleeding,” he said

“I’m okay. I will be. My ride should be here anytime.”

“If you’re sure, anyway, I will be right up stairs if you change your mind.”

The red head started up the stairs, but he never took his eyes off of William’s, and he had no idea what to make of that. He was halfway up before Oliver’s black sedan pulled into the fire lane.

“I’m Ripley by the way.”

“I’m William.”

“You? Do I know y—?” Ripley started, but was cut off by the sound of Oliver’s horn.

“I’m sorry. I have to go. I’m pretty sure one of my fathers is going to kill me tonight, but if not I’d love to see you again sometime.”

And with that he ran. William thought he might have heard Ripley tell him to wait, but Oliver sped away as soon as he slammed the passenger door. 

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