Revelation

by Randi Cooley Wilson

  ***

  With reluctance, my eyes flutter open. This is the first night in a long time I didn’t have a dream. The sunlight filters through the drapes, blanketing the guest room in natural light, bringing to life the warm taupe and soft blue colors that make this room elegant but comfortable.

  I sit up and stretch just as my stomach growls, having gotten a whiff of bacon coming from somewhere in the house. After I head to the bathroom to freshen up, I bounce downstairs, stopping on the bottom step when I hear Keegan and Asher’s worried voices.

  “You’re certain she doesn’t suspect anything?” Keegan questions.

  “I’m positive. She’s just accepted we’re her protectors at face value,” Asher confirms.

  “Good. It should be kept that way, at least for now,” Keegan states.

  Asher sighs. “I agree but I don’t like lying to her. It doesn’t feel right and I need her complete confidence.”

  “You have her full trust and it’s important she’s kept in the dark for now. We’re still not certain as to what Gage wants with her or what his connection is to Deacon. If this information comes to light, if she finds out, she could be in even more danger than she already is,” Keegan asserts.

  “I realize that, Keegan,” Asher replies out of clenched teeth.

  “One thing we do know, the Declan clan has moved into this territory but we’re not sure why. The rest of the family will continue to investigate and inquire with our contacts. In the meantime, we need to keep Eve focused on her ascension and her training,” Keegan orders.

  I move slightly off the stairs and see Asher running his hands over his face and into his hair. I’m just about to barge over and insist they tell me what’s going on when Keegan’s concern-laced voice vibrates through me.

  “You are focused on her protection, correct?” he asks with a curious tone.

  Asher stiffens, his face filled with rage. “Do you have something to ask me, brother?”

  Keegan sighs. “Kenna seems to think your bond with Eve is more than just a protector to his charge. I’m just offering a cordial reminder that you took an oath with both the Angelic Council as well as The Spiritual Assembly of Protectors.”

  Asher’s face becomes angry. “I have not failed to remember my oath, especially when everyone in this clan reminds me daily,” he spits out.

  Keegan stands taller, narrowing his eyes. “Do not forget what we stand for and who we are bound to protect as a clan. I will not allow you to turn your back on centuries of loyalty and protection for a human girl. Not even her.” He lets out an exhausted breath. “Not to mention, Michael would bring the wrath of the Angelic Council upon this family and we would be facing dire consequences for your actions with the Royal Council, of which, might I remind you, you’re a key member.”

  Asher’s anger is radiating off him. “I DO NOT FORGET MY CALLING OR WHO OR WHAT I AM, BROTHER,” he whisper yells. “I have not disregarded that Eve is a charge or my oath to safeguard her.” He exhales heatedly. “I would give my life for her in a heartbeat.”

  Keegan just stares at Asher pensively. “It’s the why of giving your life that concerns me, not if you would or wouldn’t. I trust you to do the right thing, Asher.” Keegan walks away from a fuming Asher.

  He’s pacing, rubbing the back of his neck in agitation.

  I take in a small breath, unsure of what the conversation was about. I can gather that Asher still has a few more secrets I won’t be privy to anytime soon.

  Plastering on a fake smile, I walk down the last step just as he looks up and locks eyes with me.

  “Good morning. I was just hoping to grab some coffee before heading to campus.”

  He watches me before blowing out a heavy sigh. “I’ll take you to the kitchen then Abby will bring you back to the dorms.”

  My eyebrows pull together. “You’re not going to take me yourself?”

  Asher shakes his head. “No. I have business to attend to before class.”

  I look away from him. “Okay. Coffee it is then. Thanks.”

  “Eve,” Asher says quietly but inside I feel like he shouted at me.

  “I get it. You don’t have to explain. You took an oath.”

  I offer a sad smile and walk to him, placing my left hand on his chest, avoiding the tattoo.

  His face is pained.

  “What I don’t understand is what else you’re hiding from me.” I stare into his eyes as he shuts them in a tight squeeze.

  “Don’t,” it comes out as a whisper from his lips.

  I frown and give him a small shrug.

  “There’s no darkness there and if there were, it’s only in your mind, Asher.”

  I leave him in the foyer, standing like a stone statue.

  12 Messages

  It’s been a week since Michael’s visit. My aunt and I have barely spoken since the archangel encounter. I’ve decided not to bring up my newfound knowledge regarding my parents and her not being blood related, so during our weekly phone conversation, I told her I was working on a big project and would call her when I was finished. She agreed as long as I promised to keep up my Krav Maga classes. Thank goodness she doesn’t know how to text or email ‘because technology scares her.’

  Abby and McKenna have been walking on eggshells around me, providing me the space I need to think. Asher keeps his distance too. We’ve fallen back to our respective charge and protector relationship. Though I feel him burn holes into the side of my head during class, I’ve just been ignoring it and usually leave before he can talk to me.

  After the first twenty times asking me what was wrong, Aria finally got the hint and stopped asking. She just chalked it up to ‘boy problems’ with Asher. That or she thinks I’m just mental. Either way, she’s stopped pushing the subject.

  So here I sit, on my favorite bench in the quad, skipping my architecture class, watching a group of ordinary human guys play football.

  Day-after-day I’m surrounded by normal college kids who aren’t weapons in the battle between Heaven and Hell and aren’t being hunted by demonic legions, and they certainly aren’t attracted to their protector who was hired by an archangel who keeps everything a secret.

  How did life get so complicated?

  “Eve Collins, don’t you have a class or something, love?” Gage sits down next to me, handing me café mocha.

  “How’d you know I would be here?” I inquire, still focused on the game.

  Gage pushes the coffee toward me, nonverbally telling me to take it. I do. He smiles at the gesture.

  “Thanks,” I mutter.

  He reclines on the bench next to me. “Well, a little birdie told me someone on this campus recently had a visit from a very prestigious archangel.” He glances to me then back to the game. “Since this is where I saw you that first day, I figured I would find you here, perhaps, contemplating everything.” He explains in a casual manner.

  I swallow the hot coffee, hard. “I think they might have laced your drink with something other than soymilk,” I joke, pointing to his latte.

  Gage gives a wicked smirk keeping his focus on the football players. We sit in comfortable silence for a while. The enigmatic guy is dressed in black again, similar to the first day I saw him. He puts his coffee on the ground and lights a cigarette. The smell mixes with his spicy scent.

  “It’s an amazing thing, you know,” he speaks, blowing out the smoke. “Mankind has the ability to be human and have free will. Wars are fought over such things and yet every one of these college students has no idea how lucky they are to be able to decide something as humdrum as whether they will be shirts or skins.”

  I continue to watch the game, remaining quiet. My face is impassible, not giving anything away considering the conversation I overheard regarding Gage. My trust in him is wary.

  “Decisions are usually based on having all the facts. Do you have all the facts, love?” He turns and stares intently at me, cigarette hanging out of his mouth and reminding me of James
Dean.

  I slide my eyes over to him, turning my head at a slow pace. “Let me guess. You’re planning to give me all the facts?”

  He shakes his head from side to side. “No, but you might want to ask Asher and the St. Michaels what all the truths are before blindly trusting your well being to them.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means those who we care for, who hide things from us, take away our free will to decide what our destiny should be.” He stands, putting out his cigarette.

  Gage turns, looking straight at me. “At some point, Eve, you’ll have to decide, shirts or skins. Make sure you have the whole story before you make that decision.” The smile on his face is sad. He nods his head to the direction of the art building. “Your protector’s on his way, sensing my presence, so this will have to be goodbye, for now.”

  I watch him walk back to his car. As he gets in, he winks and Asher appears to my right, body stiff and face callous.

  “What did he want?” his voice severe.

  At the sharpness in his tone, I look up. “Nothing. He just wanted to know if I was picking skins or shirts.” I point to the football game.

  “And?” Asher says, glancing at the game then returning his gaze to me.

  “And what?”

  “Shirts or skins?”

  I get the feeling we’re not just discussing the game anymore. “I haven’t decided yet,” I say, my voice quiet.

  Asher’s shoulders fall in defeat as he joins me on the bench. I keep my head forward, focused on the game in front of me.

  He snatches my coffee and takes a sip. I give him the death glare.

  “Help yourself,” I say with sarcasm.

  “I did.” He smirks.

  “I see that.”

  “You weren’t in class.”

  “No. Haven’t you heard the end of days is near? Not sure what I’ll need with architecture when that happens,” I counter in a mocking tone.

  “It’s not all bad. I realize right now things seem off, but it’s going to be okay. You know that, right?” he asks, his voice full of hope.

  “Well, I guess one good thing has come out of this. My nightmare with Nero has stopped,” I say with flatness.

  “The Belker was killed in your last dream,” he replies as if I should know that and he’s simply reminding me.

  “What?” I turn toward him.

  “I said the Belker was killed in the most recent nightmare but not in the ones before. That’s why you haven’t had the dream again. He’s no longer a threat.” It comes out with an air of arrogance.

  Trying to pick my jaw up from the ground, I ask, “How do you know he was killed? I never told you guys that. Just that my savior swung a sword at him.”

  “A Belker can only be destroyed, as many of the evil spirits that protect Lucifer and the Gates of Hell, with an Angel Sword, which I have. Mine is black granite.”

  His gaze shifts from the game to me, locking on my now wide eyes.

  I feel like the wind was just knocked out of me, again.

  “You were the rescuer in my dream?” I question in a shaky voice.

  He watches me with diligence. “Yes. I vowed to protect you, always. It’s the reason I’m here.” He stands up and walks away.

  I’m left sitting on the bench, baffled and annoyed that, once again, I’m caught up in the middle of this crazy journey to which he is the gatekeeper of answers and refuses to tell me.