Conduit

by Maria Rachel Hooley

  “Lev, come to me. I’m scared.” Tears streamed down her face, glittering in the muted afternoon light. Thunder rumbled menacingly overhead, and the wind batted at the awning, tugging to see if it could be undone, but the ropes managed to keep it in place.

  “Forgive the disruption, Reverend. I think I need a word with my son.” Evan reached for Lev’s arm, but Lev jerked out of reach, still avoiding his father’s gaze. All he could see was Elizabeth lying in what had somehow become her casket, and he knew he had to go to her.

  He started to the casket, but Evan quickly intercepted him.

  “You need to stop,” Evan said. “And look at me. Whatever you think you’re seeing, it’s not real, I promise.” His tone was harder and less calm than before. Even he seemed to know he was losing any edge he might have had.

  “You don’t know what I’m seeing,” Lev replied and pulled free so he could step closer to the coffin. He felt everyone watching, regarding him as though he’d lost his mind, and maybe he had, but at least she was here with him in that madness, and he’d take that over sanity any day. Any world with her was far better than one without her.

  He’d almost reached the coffin when Evan grabbed his shoulder and forced him to turn.

  “Enough. This is a funeral—Jimmie’s funeral.”

  “And Elizabeth is here. She’s come home.”

  “Your grief is playing tricks on you,” Evan warned, one hand still holding him in place. “She isn’t here.”

  Shaken, Lev reached to touch Elizabeth’s face, but his fingers passed through her and met with solid wood instead, and then she was gone, leaving the casket as it had been before, sealed and undisturbed.

  In horror, Lev found them all staring as before, pity and judgment written in their faces, waiting to get on with Jimmie’s funeral, their eyes knowing and unblinking. He’d been losing it since Elizabeth had been taken, and he was beginning to think he’d reached a point of no return. The worst was the preacher, who had no clue what Lev had lost but only that he was so broken his mind was confusing reality with dream, and perhaps that meant he couldn’t be fixed, so why, even if those in the Upper Realm could be convinced to change him back somehow, would they? No, he was lost, and they all knew it.

  Lev began to run, knowing that it was the wrong thing to do in the middle of a funeral, but he didn’t care. He had to get away so he could think and breathe—had to find some way of helping Elizabeth escape from whatever hell she’d found herself in.

  Even after he’d left everyone behind, he kept running because it felt good, far better than just standing there, waiting for the world to crumble around him. Yes, he knew the world was still perched precariously at the brink of a great abyss, but he couldn’t stop it from falling, so maybe he needed to focus on stopping himself from falling instead.

  By the time he did finally come to a stop, he found himself in the oldest part of the cemetery where vines and creepers draped many of the stones, their names worn away by time and the elements, words offered in loving tribute to the dead now long gone. The rain had not yet ceased or even slowed, and his clothes plastered themselves to his body.

  Ducking under a tree, he heard another clap of thunder, and even though the thick, leafy branches sheltered him somewhat from the torrent, that shelter was in no way complete as he leaned against the trunk and tried to catch his breath, his heart and thoughts racing. The hallucinations were getting worse, and he didn’t seem able to differentiate between what was real and what wasn’t. No matter when or how he heard or saw Elizabeth, those experiences felt absolutely real, and he wanted them to be, especially since he couldn’t shake all the fears surrounding where she was and who held her against her will.

  “Where are you planning to run to that all this darkness can’t find you? And what the hell was that back there?”

  As Lev heard Griffin’s voice, he stiffened, suddenly feeling any peace he might have found in isolation abruptly vanish. He knew how stupid he’d been to run away and think it would make any difference except to delay whatever was going to happen, anyway—and here was Griffin to prove it. Still…

  “What do you want?” Lev asked, knowing just how loaded the question was.

  “I want you to stop acting like a horse’s ass and help us do what needs to be done.” Griffin raked his fingers through his dark hair, pushing the sopping strands from his face.

  “You act like I have no business feeling miserable.” Lev’s tone was hard, and once again he found himself wanting to punch Griffin and his sanctimony in the face for not understanding just what kind of a nightmare Lev was facing.

  “And you act like you are the only one who is suffering in her absence,” Griffin mused, never looking at him. “No, she isn’t my girlfriend, Lev, but she is my friend, someone I love and never want to lose, so I get that you’re in pain. We all are. Now the only thing we can do is keep moving and hope we get lucky enough to find her.”

  Lev walked, trying to come to terms with all the feelings boiling up inside, but there was no place for them to go and nothing to be done to change them.

  “What if I can’t do this? What if as a human, I just mess everything up?” He stared at the ground, unable to face whatever was in Griffin’s eyes even as his friend stepped over.

  “Then I guess you’re just as human as the rest of us, and you finally really understand what that means when it comes down to it.”

  Lev stared out into the rain. “I was supposed to protect her. I thought I could do it, and one day she was here, and the next she was gone. I still can’t believe it.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  For a moment, they both just watched the rain. Although it still fell and thunder still boomed around them, it did seem to be lessening somewhat.

  “I don’t know if the preacher is still waiting for us, but we should probably go just in case,” Griffin suggested. “We owe it to Jimmie to give him a proper send-off.”

  Lev nodded. “It’s going to kill Elizabeth when she finds out Jimmie’s dead. She’s never going to forgive me.”

  “Maybe she will and maybe she won’t,” Griffin replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “But I think you’re always going to struggle with how you feel when it comes down to it.”

  Lev didn’t answer. He just pointed back toward the direction they’d come. “Looks like the rain is finally letting up some.” He didn’t wait for Griffin’s response but started off, heading back to the gravesite, wondering what he would say when he got there. While there might be a million and one excuses he could give regarding his erratic behavior, no one would believe he was having hallucinations, and even if they did, what could they say that would help him feel the madness would eventually pass?

  The whole way back to the graveside, he sensed Griffin following him like a shadow. Neither spoke, both recognizing neither had words for this, Lev was pretty sure, and he was tired of talking, anyway.

  As they reached the awning, both were soaked. Yes, the rain had slowed, but it hadn’t stopped. Celia, Evan, and the preacher all stared openly at them, and Lev could only imagine what must be going through the preacher’s mind.

  Then again, perhaps things weren’t nearly as crazy as they could have been. Considering just how many funerals the preacher had probably been to during his religious career, he’d probably seen much weirder stuff than this. Funerals tended to bring out the worst in people, one way or another, so if this were the worst he’d experienced, the preacher had probably been very fortunate. Indeed.

  Without explanation—that would come later, Lev was sure—he resumed his place next to Evan, before the casket, lamenting at how it seemed as though he’d never gone, which on one hand was the right thing to do for Jimmie, but it felt all wrong standing here again with all this pain tearing at him from the outside in. Still, if everyone else could hold it together, he had to find a way to do the same.

  * * *

  “You can’t keep doing this, Lev.”

  They’d all
barely made it in the door, and Lev had headed back to his room to change into dry clothes when Evan had found him, obviously displeased with Lev’s behavior at the cemetery. Then again, since Lev had been changed into a mortal, he’d often displeased his angelic father. It was like he could no longer do anything the way it should’ve been done.

  “I’m not doing anything.” Lev retorted, obviously stalling as he jerked off his wet shirt and hung it over the shower rod to dry out some before taking off the rest of his soaked clothes and getting into dry things. Then he grabbed the towel he’d brought back from the bathroom and dried off, all the while refusing to meet Evan’s pointed stare. Once he was finished with the towel, he set it on his dresser and grabbed a t-shirt.

  “You are out of control, which only makes it that much easier for the dybbuks or whatever is leading them to claim control over you.” He jerked the tie from around his neck and stepped toward Lev.

  Immediately Lev bristled, feeling anger surge inside of him. He wanted to just spit out some sarcastic response, but doing so would only prove Evan right and that Lev needed closer scrutiny because he couldn’t keep his behavior in check. Yeah, that would be such a good idea.

  “You keep focusing on my actions, but let’s talk about yours. You are, after all, the one with wings still attached, and you could conceivably turn this whole nightmare around if you would just do something.”

  Evan shook his head disbelievingly. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about Elizabeth. Yes, she’s the key to the dybbuks’ doings. She’s what is somehow drawing them out, but it goes way beyond that, whether you want to admit it or not. We not only have to get her back, but we also have to figure out who is behind this because dybbuks don’t organize and plot in this fashion. A higher power is needed to orchestrate their actions, and you know it. As for me not doing anything, angels don’t work miracles—or have you forgotten that, too?”

  Evan didn’t wait for Lev’s response but strode out, not even bothering to look back.

  Chapter Nine

  The next morning, sunlight poured through the window as if yesterday’s storms had never come. As Lev sat up, his thoughts immediately drifted to Elizabeth, wondering how and where she was. An uncomfortable tightness seized him.

  He wanted to pull the covers back over his head and drift back to sleep, hoping to find her in his dreams, but that wasn’t going to help. Of course, considering just how helpful Evan hadn’t been up until now, Lev was beginning to wonder what it would take to get her back again.

  Still, he forced himself to rise and put on some jeans and a t-shirt before heading into the kitchen. As he stepped to the fridge, he immediately thought of Jimmie. If Jimmie were still alive, this would be the place Lev would find him, but Jimmie was gone. The dybbuks had seen to that.

  Ashamed, Lev jerked open the fridge and hefted out the milk. It wasn’t so much that he wanted breakfast; he just needed to do something to keep moving until he could be back with Elizabeth. Nothing was going to make sense until that happened. Being with her was all that mattered, and when he thought of that, he usually forgot to eat or do anything else.

  Grabbing a bowl, he poured himself some cereal and splashed it with milk. Although he’d heard someone else come into the kitchen, he didn’t look up, figuring he didn’t have much to say.

  “Wide awake,” Griffin muttered, grabbing an orange from the bowl next to Lev. He plunked down at the table and picked at the skin of the fruit, setting the peel on the table, probably planning to gather it later to toss it out.

  “I had trouble sleeping,” Lev admitted, and it was true. His shoulders and back ached anew as though the words themselves had triggered the pain.

  “That makes two of us,” Griffin murmured, sticking a section of orange in his mouth. “It seems like this nightmare is never going to end.” He carefully avoided Lev’s gaze, preferring to look instead at the fruit in his hand.

  “Did Evan mention the plan for today?” He, too, sat at the table and nibbled at his cereal.

  “Not to me.” Griffin nodded to his shoulder. “Any chance you’ll get your wings back or something?”

  “Not likely. Evan’s made it clear.” He took another bite to keep himself from saying any numbers of the things he felt, none of which were positive.

  "I just don't understand why you are now mortal but the threats to Lizzie are still present."

  “I wish I knew,” Lev finally answered, his throat closing up. It was supposed to have been over. They should have found the happiness both of them had wanted, but instead they’d found this, and in the process Lev had lost her, maybe for good, something he dared not think about right now.

  Unsure what to else to do, he finished his breakfast, figuring keeping his head low might get everyone off his back, at least until he did something else that was stupid. Of course, that might be all of ten minutes from now, the way he had been going. He was excelling at stupid.

  As he set his bowl in the sink, Lev saw movement at the corner of his eye and realized Evan had come in. When Lev looked, he found Evan staring, a curious expression on his face—he was trying to make up his mind about something. Whatever it was, Lev was sure Evan wasn’t going to let him in on it. Since everything had become need-to-know, Lev had quickly come to understand he apparently didn’t need to know much of anything, probably because, since he’d lost his wings, there wasn’t much he could do about anything.

  “Morning,” Griffin said, nodding as he finished the orange. “What’s on for today?” He kept his voice casual, but Lev had an inkling he, too, was chomping at the bit.

  “Training.” Evan glanced from Griffin to Lev and back again, sizing them both up. “Let’s meet out back in about fifteen, and hopefully today we’ll be able to formulate a plan to get Elizabeth back.”

  Although Lev opened his mouth to speak, Evan didn’t give him a chance.

  “Later,” he said. He was choosing not to answer, and Lev knew it, which only made Lev angrier. How had Elizabeth stood him when he’d been an angel and as full of answers as he must have been but so reluctant to share any of them—so…smug? Surely that had to have gotten old. Lev hadn’t been human but a handful of months, and already he was getting tired of experiencing that same thing with his father.

  Once Evan had slipped out of the room, Lev realized Griffin was watching him now, and he reciprocated.

  “What?” Lev growled. “Spit it out.”

  “Do me a favor and stick to killing me with a sword this time.” His hand drifted to his head where Lev had struck him and left a very real and painful wound.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Lev retorted, feeling his face flush.

  “Yeah, well, try to keep hold of your temper, will you?” He didn’t wait for Lev’s response but slipped from the room, leaving Lev alone, his stomach clenching nervously. Lev didn’t have a clue why he was suddenly so apprehensive. He should have been glad Evan thought there was a way through the darkness—a way that would get them to Elizabeth—but he’d learned the hard way that sometimes the most direct route was also the course of most violence. Did Evan think they were ready for any of this? And while Lev wanted more than anything to be the one who saved her, all he’d done so far was to botch everything up. With that kind of a track record, he was starting to seriously question his role in all of this. His role didn’t bode well for any of them.

  Griffin was right. He had a temper he couldn’t control—a temper that hadn’t existed until he’d become human—and now it seemed to get the better of him at every bump in the road. So where did that leave him?

  “Are you ready for this?”

  Lev jumped. Celia wore a pair of grey yoga pants and a white t-shirt. Her long, blonde hair had been pulled into a high ponytail, and she frowned, chewing her bottom lip. She seemed to already know Lev’s answer.

  “Ready for what?”

  “Didn’t Evan tell you he found his reinforcement?”

  “No, he must’ve left that part out.”
Lev admitted, heading to the window to join Celia. That’s when he spotted a very tall, very muscular dark-headed guy step into the yard. Lev couldn’t see the wings—he didn’t have Elizabeth’s gift for somehow catching glimpses in to the supernatural world because all of that had been stripped away when he’d been changed. Yes, he could see the wings with his family members, but that was probably a combination of familiarity and memory.

  Immediately, as he looked at the new guy, he felt his back twinge.

  “I don’t like him.”

  Celia shrugged. “You don’t have to like him. You just have to accept the fact that he’s here to help and that he knows more than any of us about dybbuks. Can you do that much at least—for Elizabeth?”

  Lev shot her an angry glare. “You think this is me being a teenage male or something, but it’s not. This time I’m telling you I sense something, and it’s not right. He’s not right. Of course, now that I’m not an angel anymore, you have absolutely no reason to believe me.” He raked his fingers through his hair, wishing he could just shut off all these all-too-human emotions. Having been an angel once, he now wondered how mortals did this—lived with such furious and often conflicting feelings rushing through them.

  “That’s not fair.” Celia caught his arm, her fingers lightly resting on his skin. “You know that since you’ve become human, you aren’t always steady. It’s part of the packaging. I know none of us envisioned this outcome. There’s no way we could have, and maybe because of what happens sometimes Evan and I are less trusting than we should be with you. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he muttered. “Angels do know best, don’t they? You’re never wrong.” He shook his head. “But that’s the thing. You may be closer to perfect than I, but you can’t understand the good part of mortality. Granted, it might be what destroys me in the end, but I won’t give up. And if becoming human was a stupid thing, I’d rather be stupid any day than not have her. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

  It wasn’t a question—or at least not one he wanted an answer to, so he crossed to the back door, knowing that even if he tried to stave off meeting Evan’s idea of backup, he’d still be forced to accept what he couldn’t change, and as he had no supernatural ability to throw into the betting pool, his fate was sealed.