Playing With Fire

by Adrienne Woods et al.

  “I, uh, yes… there’s something here for you. New baby girl about to be born in the year 1670 AD. Should be interesting, too. Looks like she plays a pivotal role in history. Her prime directive is leading into the Salem Witch Trials. Seems like one you’ll enjoy,” Gilda says, handing me the genetic keys to the child born a good three hundred and fifty years before Liam.

  Guess they figured a female, years in the linear past, would keep my mind off of things.

  “Thanks,” I say, taking the keys. As they land in my hand, the double helix-entwined markers bind me to the child, linking me to her destiny and pulling me from the Assignment Realm and into her timeline.

  With no good-byes to Gilda and no more need to speak to anyone else, I land in a small hut in the middle of South Africa. Heat rolls into the space, and it smells like a combination of dirt, grass, and blood. The baby is about to be born; her presence grows like a lightning bolt, and within seconds of being in the room, I know this child has innate supernatural power. She’s not a charlatan, or one who will be tied to the Salem Witch Trials out of deception. How she ends up in American New England has yet to filter into my consciousness, but I have no doubt it will be an interesting story.

  Curiosity gets the better of me, and I walk closer to the birthing bed, where her mother lies in a pool of her own sweat. Surrounded by other women, each doing their part to ease the woman’s suffering, or perhaps ease their own fears of birth, she squeals in agony. With a couple of strenuous pushes, the baby slips out of the dark quiet and into the arms of one of the midwives.

  My brain begins to translate the language, and I hear one of the women say, “You must bite the cord—it must be buried tonight.”

  The child is brought to the mother’s face. As the mother places her lips around the cord, she tears apart the link of blood binding the little girl to herself. Red liquid spurts from the connection, splattering both of them, but when the child is free, one of the women places her on her mother’s naked chest.

  “Hold her tight, she must rest and suckle,” the midwife says.

  Wrapping her arms around her daughter and holding her tightly, the mother traces the tiny brown face of the little girl. A broad, beautiful smile crosses her face.

  “Welcome to the world, Tituba,” her mother croons, kissing the top of her wet head. “You will do great things, daughter.”

  Chapter 19

  A Final Judgement Call

  Stepping forward and placing a hand on Tituba’s back, I continue to inherit her life’s path and prime directive. Despite myself, despite all the pain I feel, this tiny child offers a slight shift in perspective. There’s more to this world than pain and sorrow, even if it’s not all easy. And her life will certainly not be easy.

  However, I can’t help but feel sorry for her. Of all the Guardians in the universe, she’s stuck with the one who’s broken beyond repair. The one who probably should have been put out of commission and laid to rest. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do her justice, but I have no choice but to try.

  A cool breeze settles over the room, and beside me is the Throne Angel who answered Liam’s prayer—the one who took part in our Judgement and its ultimate course. Instantly, my fists clench.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” the Throne Angel says, tilting her head to the side.

  I press my lips into a thin line, trying not think about the ways this angel ruined everything.

  “Mmmhhhmmm,” I say, nodding.

  “Walk with me, Eva. There’s a few things I think we should discuss,” she says, tipping her head toward the exit. Neither of us needs to literally walk, but I suppose the experience of it makes whatever she plans on saying easier. Or at the very least, gives her some time to think. I know it certainly does for me. For example, I think of about fifty different ways I could kill her where she stands.

  “I should stay with my charge,” I say, pointing to the baby in her mother’s arms and ignoring my hostile tendencies.

  The Throne Angel smiles, her wheeled eyes rotating clockwise. “She’ll be fine. She’s well cared for by the many women in this room. Come, there’s much to discuss, and you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

  Without waiting for me to say yes, she walks out of the hut and into the afternoon sun. I linger for a moment, unsure if I care about anything she wants to tell me—but again my curiosity overcomes any trepidation or animosity.

  Sighing to myself I follow her. Standing alone in the tall grasses, the Throne Angel stares in the direction of the setting sun. It will still be a few hours until dusk, but it’s beautiful just the same. I walk up to her, stopping only to stand beside her as I face forward and follow her gaze.

  “You know, for all of my life, I’ve wished I could see the sun the way humans—and the way you—can see it,” she confides, not looking my direction.

  Peering over my shoulder, I quirk an eyebrow. “How do you know it’s different?”

  “Do you see the numbers in and surrounding it?” she asks, still refusing to look my direction.

  I shake my head. “Well, no. Just the light.”

  “Then it’s different. Instead of colors or light, I see the shifting of equations in everything—every object, every being. They fluctuate, but my brain can process trajectories based on all the variables in play. It’s how I determine Judgement of what is—and what will be,” she says, shaking her head and turning to me. “But it’s all subjective. The Judgement of just about anything can be altered by the decisions occurring and free will at play. Yet others… they are carefully coordinated.”

  I tilt my head to the side, trying to parse out what this has to do with me. “Why are you telling me this?”

  She sighs, allowing a small smile to grace her lips. “Evangeline, do you remember what I told you when we first met in the human’s abode? The night he opened the doorway to all the beings?”

  I narrow my eyes, trying to think back. “You’ll need to be more specific. You said a lot of things.”

  She nods. “That I did.”

  “So, what exactly are you referring to?” I say, turning to her. “Just be straight with me.”

  Her high-arching eyebrows tug in, and she nods. “I said you’d need to let the human go and break the forbidden bond the two of you shared. Do you remember?”

  I narrow my gaze, thinking back. “Yes, I remember. Turns out that didn’t work out so well.”

  “You’d be surprised, dear,” she says, a lopsided grin emerging. “The universe is a funny, fickle thing. It sees all.”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s friggin’ hilarious,” I say, rolling my eyes.

  Ignoring my comment, she continues, “Think about it. For souls like you—you must know darkness to appreciate the light. You must know despair to know hope. You must know emptiness to appreciate love. You must sacrifice to know gratitude.”

  “True, but it none of that makes things easier, at least until you’ve come out on the other side. And for someone like me, who knows how long, if ever, that will be. I’m cursed with immortality.”

  “Indeed,” she nods.

  “Forgive me, but… why are you here? It can’t just be to talk about the philosophy of life,” I say, clasping my hands and placing them in front of my body.

  The Throne Angel chuckles, “No, you’re right. As always, very astute, Eva. I’ve been ordered here by the Guild to explain a few things. And pass on a final Judgement call.”

  Immediately, my eyebrows tug upward and my stomach flips. This can’t be good. It’s never good.

  “Okay…” I begin.

  “Do you believe in manifesting destiny, Evangeline?” she offers.

  I tilt my head and shoot her a sideways glance. “Uh—I suppose?”

  She takes my hands in hers and stares directly into my eyes. The spokes in her wheeled gaze mesmerize me, and I can’t help but stare into their depths. They turn clockwise in their unblinking way. “Let me ask you something else. Have you ever found the universe to be lazy in its deliv
ery of abundance? Of wishes?”

  I think for a moment, trying to see where she’s leading this. “Sometimes, I suppose,” I offer.

  “Tsk. All this time as a Guardian and you miss the threads interwoven between all beings. Everything endured—pain and suffering, joy and elation—it’s all happening in tandem. No one and nothing is separate from it. Surely you’ve seen this.”

  I take a deep breath through my nose, wishing she’d just get to the point. “Okay?” I say.

  “Oh, dear one. That night when I said Judgement was manifesting, it wasn’t just for the human. It was happening for you both. I tried to warn you, but as I feared, you were missing my nuances,” she says. “There are certain things I’m allowed to say and do—as is the same with you. We each have our rules, after all.”

  My fingertips inch to my eyebrow and I rub at it. “Well, that’s wonderful. What is it you’re saying about Judgement for me, too? I’m going to die? Fizzle out like a human? This is my final charge? Please, just get to the point. I need to get back inside,” I say, pointing toward the hut.

  The Throne Angel smiles broadly, taking a step back and sweeping her arm out. I follow her gesture and from behind a large baobab tree, an angel emerges. The intensity of light it brings makes me shield my eyes as I wait for the luminescence of its arrival to subside. The brightness pulls back until the only light remaining is in its wings. There beside the tree is a male Guardian, dressed from head to toe in the same kind of leather attire I’ve been gifted by the universe.

  And it’s absolutely sexy on him.

  My heart catches in my throat, and before I make a conscious effort to do so, my feet are moving.

  “Liam,” I cry out, wrapping my arms around him as soon as I reach him.

  Like a wave of hot, beautiful energy, his hands slide around my waist and I melt into him.

  “Hello, beautiful,” he whispers into my ear.

  His breath flashes across my skin, sending a shiver straight through me. “How? But… I crossed you over myself. I—” I say, fighting back tears of joy.

  Refusing to let go, he nuzzles his face into my neck and says, “Funny thing about Judgement, I guess. The universe decided it was time for me to ascend.”

  Pulling back so I can see his face, my eyebrows tug in, “But you had a destiny. You were meant to help the world—change it for the better.”

  “And he still will, my dear,” the Throne Angel says, stepping up to us.

  Turning to face her, I cross my arms over my body.

  “It’s always been his job to guide the next generation. Liam was marked to ascend from before his incarnation as Liam. His soul has gone through many things and this time, we knew he was ready to move on,” she says. “Honestly, I thought you would have figured it all out.”

  I shake my head. “Figure it out? How would I ever have figured that out?”

  “Didn’t it make you wonder how he could wield your elemental sword? Or make you wonder why he could hear you?” she asks.

  “Well, of course… but I figured it was some sort of glitch in the way his brain worked. Like he was tuned into angel radio or something,” I laugh.

  “His soul has always been preparing for the shift,” she says, smiling. “Granted, there was a time where it was in question. It seemed he needed to really dive deep into the ability to overcome insecurities. No Guardian can guide or protect their charges if they haven’t overcome their own weaknesses.” She places her wheeled gaze squarely on him and he shrugs sheepishly.

  “Oh my God, this can’t be real. I have to be dreaming…” I say, stepping back and running my hands through my hair. “Am I dreaming? I am right?”

  Liam laughs, his deep boisterous laugh. “You’re totally not dreaming, Eva. Though I thought I was for the longest time.”

  “Longest time? How long have you been—?” I begin.

  “Time is really so fluid. It’s hard to say. They wouldn’t let me see you until I’d done some preparation. I guess this means I passed,” he says, stepping up and placing a hand on my cheek.

  I lean into his touch, allowing it to radiate its warmth and peace through my skin. “So, this is real?” I whisper. “You’re really here?”

  He nods.

  “You see, my dear—sometimes, when it feels all is falling apart and nothing is making sense, it’s really the universe setting things into alignment with your wishes,” she says. “New destinies cannot be built on crumbling ground.”

  “I didn’t know the universe had any idea about Liam—or at least my desire to be loved by him,” I say, embarrassed to allow the confession past my lips.

  The Throne Angel scrunches her face and cocks her head.

  “I know. I should have, I guess,” I say, dropping my gaze to the ground.

  Liam steps closer yet, taking my hands in his. “This might be a bit forward of me, but…Evangeline, if you would have me, I would love to be your soul partner. I want to stay by your side for the rest of eternity.”

  Between the thrumming in my ears and the thumping in my chest, I feel both light-headed and ecstatic—and completely shocked. He’s here. Liam is here, and he’s here to stay.

  Our forbidden bond has been severed, and now we can be together.

  “Of course, Liam. I would love nothing more than to be bound to you— I… I think I always have been,” I whisper, fighting back tears.

  “You were instrumental in Liam’s training, Evangeline. You should be proud. You did an excellent job,” the Throne Angel says, taking a step back.

  I shake my head. “All this time, I thought I was losing my mind. I thought I was doing something wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. There was just something about him.” I return my gaze to his, taking in his hazel eyes as they flash green, gold, and brown.

  “The feeling was mutual, Eva. I don’t know why, but as soon as I knew about you… as soon as I knew there was a love outside of what I’ve known, I knew I needed to find out why. I needed to know you. You certainly didn’t disappoint. You were everything I could have imagined, and so much more,” Liam says, sighing contently.

  Without another word, I close the gap between us, placing my head on his chest. He encapsulates me in his embrace, and I know after all of the fighting—both internal and external battles—I’m finally home.

  Chapter 20

  The Awakening

  “Are you ready for this?” I ask, walking hand in hand with Liam. “Your first charge is a pretty big deal.”

  The garden is beautiful, and for the first time I can remember, I see the utter beauty and allure of the Silver City. Flooded with golden-white light and music, I can barely remember what it was like to want nothing more than to reside on the Earthly plane—but not here. Never here.

  Liam’s face tightens, and he cocks his head to the side, “Mmmm, I think so? I mean, this is a pretty big step. I just hope I can do justice to whoever it is. You know what I mean?”

  I nod my head, “Yes, I absolutely know what you mean.”

  Twisting to face him, I push a strand of dark hair out of his hazel eyes.

  “Was it like this for you? You know, the first time you had a charge?” he asks.

  “You know, I honestly don’t remember my first charge. I wasn’t like you, Liam. I don’t ever remember having a human life or body,” I say, shaking my head. “This is literally all I remember.”

  “Really? How old are you?” he says, his eyes sparkling with the curiosity I know and love.

  I shrug. “I would have no clue. We don’t celebrate time the same way humans do. It’s not a linear thing here, as you now know. It bounces back and forth, adjusting things and balancing them so the fates can all be in alignment.”

  “Do you think I will always remember what it was like to be human?”

  “I’m not sure on that, either. Perhaps ask the next time you speak with the Guild. They may have answers for you,” I offer.

  He tips his head in acknowledgment. “I think I just might do that.”


  “Is it nice to have your memories back? I mean—after everything with the wraiths…”

  Chuckling, he shrugs. “I don’t remember actually being out of it. But I do remember when I was asked what form I’d like to take, the first thing I remembered was you. And I knew who I was. Who I needed to be.”

  Smiling to myself, I turn back to our walk. The apple trees lining the path are in full bloom, and their scent lifts my spirits along with his words.

  “Maybe that’s why I don’t remember my life?” I say, thinking.

  “What do you mean?” he asks.

  “I just mean, I don’t remember being offered a choice. I don’t remember the beginning of things. I’m not even sure when I began because perhaps in my human life, there was never anything this important. Not until you,” I say. “I mean, at a certain point, I remember what I was doing as a Guardian and the people I’ve helped. But mostly, they have all blurred together now. You’re the only one who has stood out in a way that I know I’ll never forget.”

  “Maybe things are designed that way. So you don’t get too attached and break any of the Creeds. You know what I mean?”

  “Could be,” I say, nodding in agreement.

  Liam looks up slightly, his eyes going distant. “It’s time.”

  “Would you like me to come with you?”

  “Why would I want anything less?” he says, smiling.

  Following his lead, we phase out of the Silver City and rematerialize in the middle of a beautiful nursery. A large mahogany crib sits in the middle of the room, with large open windows billowing in the summer sunlight and fresh air.

  “Where is the child? Will he or she be born here?” Liam asks, confusion written across his face.

  “Sometimes the child will already be born before a Guardian is called. It’s possible they are about to arrive,” I begin. “Other times, the parents may use the nursery space as their birthing room—though I am not seeing any evidence of it.” I look around the space, and it’s clearly meant for a new baby. The books and toys are all in neat rows, and clothes are folded and ready to be put in the dresser.