Angel Dreams (An Angel Falls Book 2)

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Angel Dreams (An Angel Falls Book 2) Page 30

by Jody A. Kessler


  “This thing is evil,” he says, and then unfolds himself from the ground and disappears into nearby shadows.

  Eli returns within seconds holding a bottle. “This water is blessed,” he says. He steps up to the fire, unscrews the cap of the jug, and then holds up the dagger. As he pours the water over the blade and handle, I think I see a stream of inky black leave the dagger and hiss into the coals. He says another prayer, this one too low for me to hear the words and then drops the dagger straight into the flames. Corrine flinches slightly at the sight and then leans into me. I close my eyes and lean against her. I can only imagine what all this has been like for her. Her own stepfather had kidnapped her and used her for whatever he wanted and then was killed in front of her eyes. Could she see any of what just happened? Is she relieved he’s gone, or is she sad? Maybe she’s too shocked to feel anything right now. That’s how I feel. When I reopen my eyes, the first hint of morning light brightens the eastern sky above the black ridge of mountains. Somehow I managed to live through another day. Did Jared?

  ∞

  “Jules, is that you?” my mom calls out as I open the front door.

  Crap. I was hoping she would be asleep or better yet, not home at all when we got here. “Yeah, it’s me,” I say, and make a run for the stairs. If she sees me, I’m done for.

  I hear her footsteps coming from the kitchen so I take two steps at a time.

  “Honey, there are a couple of strange messages on the machine. Can you come down here, please?”

  “Sure, just give me a second,” I call over my shoulder. I’m sure I look worse than one of my cat’s special presents. The last thing Ariel brought me was a half alive rodent, bedraggled, gimpy, and covered with unknown filth. Yeah, worse than that. I have Eli’s shirt on and Crash’s dirty jeans which look like they haven’t been washed all summer. If Mom sees me like this…well, she just can’t see this.

  My bedroom door swings mostly closed behind me as I throw off the biker’s clothes and grab anything within reach, then I rush across the hall and close the bathroom door. Moving through the motions of cleaning myself and dressing with ultrasonic speed, I’m back downstairs before my mom has a chance to chase me down and interrogate.

  “Is Jared home?” I ask.

  “No. You two think you’re all grown up, but you’re never too old to let your mother know where you’re at. I was really starting to worry. No message, no note. It’s not like you. I almost called the police.” Her eyebrows are raised so high on her forehead in an accusing and questioning stare I wonder if they can actually touch her hairline.

  She’s not done. “And these messages. Who are Corrine, and Laura Petit?”

  Her piercing gaze doesn’t waver an inch as she waits for me to say something. As casual as possible, I walk over to the pantry door and open it, grabbing a plastic bag. As I stuff the biker’s wadded up clothes inside I give a very careful answer. “Umm, a friend and her mom.”

  “She made it sound like she was supposed to meet with you. Are you all right? Have you been camping again? You smell like smoke. You need to tell me if you’re out in the woods. What if you didn’t come back? How would anyone find you?”

  “I know, I know,” I say, as I try to slip out of the kitchen.

  She blocks my exit. “If you know, then why didn’t you—”

  “Mom,” I interrupt a little too harshly. “I’m fine. Please, believe me. I know I screwed up. I’m sorrier than I can ever say, but right now I have to return this,” I hold up the bag for her to see. “Did Jared leave a message?” I ask, letting my tone come down to the level of my distress.

  Her brows dip and her mouth pinches at the corners. Her concern is equal to mine. “No, I was hoping you knew where he was.”

  “I’ll find him this morning,” I say, and grab the phone from its cradle on the counter.

  As I walk out of the kitchen, Mom asks, “Are you going to tell me who the man on the motorcycle in our driveway is?”

  “No.”

  ∞

  “How did you know we would run into each other again,” I ask Eli as I hand him the bag of clothes.

  Eli insisted on following Corrine and me safely home from the hospital where my car was still parked. His motorcycle friends had not come with us, saying they were after some hot breakfast.

  Eli sits astride his Harley, face grizzled and hazel eyes serious. “Inner guidance told me we had unfinished business.”

  “Are we done now?” I ask, wondering if his sixth sense is telling him anything else I need to know.

  “Almost,” he says, and settles back on the leather seat as if he may be here awhile.

  “I’m really grateful for everything you and your friends did to help us, but I don’t think I can handle another run-in like last night.”

  “I don’t think somethin’ like last night happens twice in a lifetime. At least I pray not. No, I was thinkin’ there’s words left between us that haven’t yet been said. Somethin’ you’re wantin’ to ask? Go on then, and I’ll do my best.”

  Is there something I want to ask? I stare down at my Mary Janes and tuck a lock of my grimy hair behind an ear. “Do you know my brother?” I ask the first thing that comes to mind. Jared. I have to know if he’s still alive.

  “Can’t say I do,” he says.

  Is this some sort of riddle? Are we suddenly playing some ridiculous game? I look over my shoulder at Corrine. She sits on the front steps, running her fingers through her own messy blonde hair. She looks almost as bad as I feel. How had we survived last night? How had Travis gotten away from the angels? How had he been able to smother me with the blanket? Where is Nathaniel? And then it comes to me, clicking into place, like finding the right key to a lock, questions for Eli. Information he’s supposed to share with me.

  “How did you do it last night? Why did your prayers protect us?” I turn back to meet his gaze, remembering how his shield of energy was so bright and how it kept Travis’s evil spirit from attacking me. “I’ve been trying to use energetic protection like a bubble or a wall around me, but the way you did it, was so much stronger. I could see it. It was unreal.”

  “It’s really something that you can see the Light of Christ. It’s a rare gift. Let me ask you this. Do you belong to a church?”

  I shake my head. Is he going to start preaching at me? I’m not looking for a lecture. If I wanted one of those, I’d be inside with my mother.

  “Don’t shut down now,” he says. “I was only askin’, so I can give you an answer that will make sense to you. Whether you believe it or not, there’s a phenomenal amount of love available to all who ask for it. I called for help and it came. It was some strong evil last night, but it couldn’t stand up to so much love. That’s all I did. Anyone can believe in love.”

  I digest his answer, letting it settle deep inside. He obviously believes it. I could too. Belief is a strong thing. That much I understand. “Thank you,” I finally say. “For protecting me and for telling me how I can use such powerful protection in the future.” I pause and scratch the top of my nose. It’s suddenly tickling like a bug is crawling inside. Is someone thinking about me? I believe in superstitions. Is there a church for that? I don’t ask Eli aloud. He has a different idea about what church is. “Why do you call it a gift? Being able to see spirits and energy? People tell me it’s special, but it doesn’t feel good. It scares me and I don’t even understand most of it.”

  Eli looks down hiding his eyes from me for a few seconds before answering. “Whether you believe in God, or Great Spirit, or in nothing at all, here’s what being on the road for so long has shown me. You ain’t never gonna be someone else. You were born you, so be at peace with it. And if you’re unsure, then go learn about who you are. Findin’ some peace and happiness can make life a whole lot more enjoyable.”

  I’m not sure if I will ever find peace with seeing ghosts and demons. “I’ll think about it,” I say and step back.

  His hand moves to the ignition switch and the
motorcycle wakes up with a roar. Heels digging into the ground, he backs the bike around. Before he takes off, he calls out, “Be thankful you have angels watching over you.”

  He gives a knowing nod of his head to somewhere over my left shoulder. His scuffed and worn boot moves to the gear shifter and he clicks into first. Eli’s camp-smoked tinged hand lets out the clutch and the bike rumbles out of the driveway.

  Spinning around, I see Nathaniel standing by the corner of the house, forlorn and serious as ever. And God, so beautiful, I almost weep with relief just seeing him again. He survived last night as well. Then an unexplainable jab of insecurity makes me look away.

  With the phone still in my hand, I dial the number to retrieve messages and then walk over to Corrine. Her pale blue eyes droop with exhaustion as she watches me. Even her head looks too heavy for her this morning as she rests it against the deck railing. I listen to the recordings and then commit a phone number to memory. Next, I hang up and dial Jared’s cell phone. It rings and goes to voicemail.

  “Jared, I swear, if you don’t return this call I will bury every one of your CDs and your MP3 player and your wa-wa pedal and everything you own in the middle of the forest where you will never see them again, until you convince me that you deserve to be my brother. Call me, I’m home, and I’m freaking out.”

  I hang up again, and dial the number I just memorized. As soon as it rings I hold the phone in front of Corrine.

  “Here,” I say.

  She gives me an uncertain look but takes the phone.

  “I’ll be in my garden.” I point a finger in the general direction around the side of the house.

  Then I hear a muffled voice as someone picks up on the other end.

  “Mom?” Corrine says.

  I turn and walk past the garage, past Nathaniel, and straight for my flowers.

  Chapter Twenty-four: The Lumps

  Juliana

  Stampeding wild horses across my abdomen would be more comfortable than what I’m feeling right now. My insides do flip-flops while I wait for him to say something. Did I really free him from my car last night? And if so, how had I done it? How am I traveling in my sleep? He was there last night, I reassure myself. I saw with my own eyes as he kept Travis away from me. Why is he here now? Because of Corrine?

  “Travis is gone. I wanted to be the one to tell you. He’s dead forever. You never have to worry about him coming back,” Nathaniel says.

  He stands by the garden fence, leaving the thin wire as a boundary between us. Kneeling in the dirt, I choose to surround myself with yarrow, wild geranium, coneflower, and chamomile. Their smells are bright and so are the blooms. It helps me stay grounded, but barely. Keeping my fingers connected with the earth also helps, so I pull any and all intruding blades of grass as if it were a life mission.

  “Juliana?” he says in a low voice.

  Hearing his voice causes a warm whisper of sensation to run over my skin. I’m not sure what to say. If I open my mouth I may barf all of my uncertainties on him in a gush of girlie blither-blather. Instead, I stare at my oriental poppies, their vivid red-orange petals catching and holding my gaze.

  I see him move over, positioning himself to be able to see my face better.

  “I heard you,” I whisper.

  “Why won’t you look at me?” he asks.

  I turn to face him, but I don’t meet his eyes yet. He looks different. Not his clothes, he still wears jeans, T-shirt, and tennis shoes from a different decade and his shirt is a dark heather gray, so similar to his eye color. The eyes I don’t want to see right now. No, he’s more solid, not the ghost-like Nathaniel he had been only yesterday.

  “Something’s happened to you,” I say as I spot another weed needing expulsion.

  “They gave me some privileges back, after last night. I’m not completely my old self though. Harmony gave me more credit than I deserve. And you helped too.”

  “How? I didn’t do anything, other than almost suffocate.”

  “You did. The knife you were holding. You cut the bonds that were holding me. And you hurt him enough so I could pull him off of you.”

  I give Nathaniel a disbelieving look. “The dagger? How? I didn’t…” I say in denial.

  “It worked. I saw it. He felt it cut him. I don’t understand it either, but the dagger worked in the spirit realm. Travis must have done spells on it.”

  Looking away, I can’t accept any acknowledgment right now. “You’re waiting for Corrine? That’s why you’re here, right?”

  “I needed to see you. Your dream. Do you remember any of it?”

  Not answering, all I can manage to do is bite my lower lip.

  “Juliana, what’s going on with you?”

  “I can’t talk about it right now. Please, Nathaniel. I…just everything.” Silence weighs heavily until I finally say, “Corrine’s mom is probably going to be here any second.”

  The lines on his face mirror the grief on my own and the hard edge of his jaw mimics the tension in my shoulders. I will myself to not collapse in a sorry heap. I take a tentative step around the artemisia. “I need to find Jared,” I say, letting my first priority have a voice.

  He swallows, then looks out across the yard, not pressuring me.

  My eyes flicker over to the house as I hear a car pull into the drive. Nathaniel looks over toward the sound as well. In silent agreement, we leave the garden and walk around to the front of the house, leaving everything unsaid and unresolved hanging over the flowers like a cloud.

  Corrine and her mother’s embrace is so personal I look away feeling like an intruder. Their reunion is powerful and I can feel it standing twenty feet away. My eyes fill with tears as I watch the quaking leaves of the aspens in my yard. He may not have the ability to form a body yet, but I think I feel a hand stroke my hair. I must be imagining it, and yet I would swear I can feel him. My complete and utter breakdown is too close to the surface. I can’t look at him right now because I refuse to break right here. Later, in private, I can let go of the terror and the heartache, but not yet.

  Corrine sobs into her mom’s shoulder. I hear a bit of what she says. “Travis is dead, Mom. His car. It was an accident. It was terrible.”

  “Everything is going to be all right. Shh, shh,” Laura soothes into Corrine’s ear.

  After countless minutes, or seconds, I hear Corrine say, “You have to meet Jules. She’s the one who called you.”

  They break their hug and Corrine turns to me. I wipe my eyes with the back of my dirt and grass stained hand and walk over to them. Laura wraps her tiny arms around me in a fierce hug. She is the older version of Corrine, thin and lithe, with golden hair, and the same powder-blue eyes.

  “Thank you. I’ve tried everything in my power to find her and Patrick. Thank you so much. I owe you everything,” she says.

  “You’re welcome,” I manage to say past the lump in my throat.

  She releases me, looks up at my swollen eyes, and then leans in again for another quick hug.

  “Do you guys want to come inside? I can make some tea, or some breakfast?”

  It’s Corrine who answers. “No, thank you, Jules. You’ve already done so much for me,” she says as more tears leak down her face. “It’s more than I deserve, especially after what I did to you. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

  She has to be referring to the succubus. “I know it wasn’t you,” I say. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s Travis.”

  Her shoulders heave and then release with a deep whoosh of breath. I actually see a massive weight leave her. A darkness around her, a part of her aura I didn’t realize shouldn’t be there, lifts and evaporates into the air. She practically jumps on me with an even tighter hug than her mother’s.

  “I think everything is going to be better,” she says.

  My eyes close and I can feel the love in her spread like an encompassing warmth. The change in her is almost overwhelmingly beautiful. I squeeze her back with the knowledge she has just overcome an en
ormous hurdle in her life.

  “We’re going to get Patrick and then we’re going back to New Mexico,” she says. Then she whispers so only I can hear, “Your boyfriend is here, my witch friend.”

  As they pull away from the house, I walk over to the front porch and pick up the phone again. I dial Jared and listen as the recording tells me to leave a message. I look at Nathaniel as I hang up. He’s watching me closely, but staying silent. He’s solid. His body is as real as mine. Corrine had found her will to live and he was restored to his previous state of being. Everything I had planned worked. Somehow it had all worked out. Corrine was back with her mom and Nathaniel was an angel again.

  “You can come inside if you want,” I say leaving the decision up to him. He did dump me after all.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, he follows me into the house.

  Mom comes around the corner from the kitchen as soon as the door closes behind me. The expectant look on her face immediately changes to questioning surprise when she sees Nathaniel standing behind me. Her eyes flash back to mine for a second and her face morphs again, this time filled with motherly concern.

  “Good morning,” she says to Nathaniel.

  “Mom, this is Nathaniel Evans. Nathaniel, this is my mom, Diane,” I say, making the introduction short and sweet.

  Nathaniel moves around me. I try not to breathe in his sweet ozone smell, but some of the fragrant molecules tickle my senses anyway. Why does he have to smell so good too?

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Crowson. I hope I’m not disturbing your morning,” he says as he sticks out his hand.

  “Not at all. I have to say I’m surprised Jules is up so early,” she says as she returns the handshake.

  “They had a little car trouble last night. I think Juliana and Corrine wanted to get off the mountain as early as possible.”

 

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