Guardians: The Triplex (The Guardians Series, Book 4)

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Guardians: The Triplex (The Guardians Series, Book 4) Page 2

by Lola St. Vil


  One day Isis came home to find all three cribs empty. Demetri was gone. So was the Amulet. Isis, having lost her children and the love of her life, began to cry. Her heartbreak was so powerful, so pure in its sadness, she did something no Angel had ever done before. She cried.

  It’s said her grief was so strong, it pulled the blue out of the sky and poured itself into millions of raindrops. It rained a blue rain for forty days and forty nights. A group of Para Angels, helmed by their then-leader, Noah, built the ark to help humans take shelter.

  When Atourum learned that Demetri now had power, she sent Demons to destroy him in fear he would someday overtake her.

  It’s said that in the end, Isis cried herself to death. And when it’s a bright sunny day but a sudden burst of rain appears, it’s the heaven’s dedication to Isis.”

  “That story gets sadder every time I hear it,” I tell him.

  “Now Angels just use her story as an expression: Yeah, I like so and so but it’s not blue rain.”

  “Oh, so…am I blue rain worthy?” I ask teasingly.

  He used to pull me close and hold me when I would joke around like that. Now, he tells me to be serious and focus. I resigned to the new “all business” version of Marcus.

  “I guess the Council always hated couples, huh?” I ask.

  “They’re real serious about maintaining balance.”

  “But they tempted Demetri. If they hadn’t, he would have still been with Isis.”

  “That’s a point Para Angels argue about in bars all over Daraquin.”

  “I didn’t know the City of Paras had a bar.”

  “Yeah, the Coy keeps flowing.”

  “Have you ever been to one?”

  “No, I always wanted to.”

  “So, let’s go.”

  “Go where?”

  “Daraquin.”

  “Emmy, be serious.”

  I am serious. I am going to lose my life in a few weeks and I just want to spend as much time as I can with you. Please, please stop trying to fight the inevitable...

  I want so much to say my thoughts out loud, but I know it will only upset him. So once again, I play along.

  “So what is it about this story that you think could help?”

  “The Amulet. If it’s still around, maybe it will give me enough power to somehow get the Dy out of you.”

  “It’s just a story. It’s not real.”

  “Noah’s real. He was at the Summit.”

  “It’s a fable. Some parts are true and some aren’t. I mean blue rain? C’mon. How strong would your pain have to be to drain the blue from the sky?”

  “I know but sometimes there are clues in stories. In songs…”

  “And even if it was, I’m sure Lucy would have destroyed the Amulet along with Demetri,” I protest.

  “I just thought…”

  “What?”

  “I don’t know,” he admits sadly.

  “We have traveled to far-off villages looking for accent elixirs that would help and we found nothing. We sought out powerful Paras in Daraquin, we even went to an eye doctor,” I pled.

  He looks up at me, and even in Difi, he was in better sprits. I sit on his lap and look into his eyes. Even the thought of getting to kiss him causes my heart to leap. He leans in and presses his soft lips against mine. Blood rushes to my face. A familiar, delicious spark zooms down my spine. I kiss his bottom lip and go in hungrily for more.

  Suddenly he breaks off the connection.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “There’s a book I read last week—where is it?” He practically throws me off of him and rummages around in the stack of books.

  “Marcus, enough,” I beg.

  “Wait, there’s just one more thing I need to look up—”

  “Enough.”

  “No. I’m close to—”

  “I SAID ENOUGH!” I take the book in his hand and hurl it across the room.

  He looks at me, puzzled.

  “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Emmy—”

  “NO. I have sat here for weeks watching you tear the world apart looking for hope where there isn’t any. You cannot save me. I am going to die.”

  “You aren’t going to die”

  “I know this is difficult. I know it hurts you. But it’s my death and you’re leaving me with no room to grieve. Every second of the day I have to think about putting up a brave face for you. I’m tired. I’m so tired.”

  “Emmy, I—”

  “Stop holding on to hope, or clues or fables.”

  “Then what the hell else am I suppose to hold on to?”

  “Me.”

  “You don’t want me to hold you. You want me to say goodbye to you.”

  “You were going to have to leave me anyway.”

  “That is not the same thing,” he protests.

  “Why not?”

  “When we go into the Light, you’re still supposed to be alive. You can still have a life after us. After me.”

  “After you? You think there’s something “after” us?”

  “The point is we were supposed to come here, get the map and let you go on with your life. You aren’t supposed to die.”

  “Neither was Reese or Sara or my mother. But they did. They died and I will, too. Nothing you do is going to change that.”

  “Why are you so okay with dying? What is so wrong with your life?”

  “I’m not okay with dying, but I am also not okay with spending the time I have left scouring old books.”

  “What if there is something here that can help you?”

  “What if there isn’t?”

  “I won’t accept that.”

  “You have to be realistic.”

  “You want me to tell you that I am okay with you dying; I’m okay with being the one who ends your life.”

  “Marcus, I’m begging you. Please, give me this one thing: accept the situation.”

  There’s desperation so deep in my voice, it goes through my soul like ripples in a pond.

  “Emmy, you could dive to the ocean floor and barely reach the depths of how much I love you. I would give you all my lifetimes, my wings, my soul. But please, don’t ask me to accept this.”

  He pulls me close and whispers in my ear, words a First Guardian should never say:

  “I’m not strong enough…”

  CHAPTER TWO: FIREWORKS

  It is weeks later and still, we are no closer to finding a way to save me. I wanted to suggest we have a Thanksgiving meal together, but I don’t. Marcus is in no mood for a get-together. So the month of November passes in a blur of tension and false hope, just like the month before it.

  We are now in the second week of December. I’m in my apartment getting ready for the final days of school. For most students it’s the final days before winter break. For me, it’s just the final days.

  Almost everything in the apartment reminds me of my mom, that’s why I spend most of my time at the Guardian’s house. My Uncle Max wanted me to come stay with him and his family but I said no. Not only would Marcus not let me out of his sight, I felt like leaving the apartment was somehow like leaving my mom. That’s why no matter how long I stay away, I always come back home.

  Uncle Max wasn’t okay with me staying here alone. I had to get Jay to Convince him that I was fine. My uncle isn’t the only one concerned. Ben’s mom brings me food all the time. Unlike my mom, she’s a great cook. But no matter how amazing the meals are, I tend to take only a few bites. Knowing you are going to die does something to your appetite.

  I have not gone inside my mom’s room since she died. I can’t bring myself to open the door. I know its crazy but with the door closed, I can always pretend like she’s behind it: she is somewhere in her bedroom rereading a Bronte novel and at any minute she’s going to call me because she got to a really good part and wants to read it out loud to me. It’s like with the door closed, she’s still alive.

  “Hey, we’re going to be late
for first period!” Miku shouts behind the door. Marcus insists I go to school. He doesn’t want me to get behind. We all know that it’s silly but so is recording your dead mom’s favorite show, like she’s coming home to watch it later. I guess denial is the great new drug. And Marcus and I are addicted.

  “Miku, come in,” I shout back, as I try in vain to do something with my hair other than a ponytail. I swear if I was given the choice of powers, it would be the power to make my hair look like it came out of a glam mag. The power to take out demons is cool but maintaining perfect hair, that’s real power.

  Miku comes into my room and shakes her head at me.

  “Your hair looks fine, it’s time to go.”

  “I know it’s just…” I sigh and put it in the same old ponytail it’s always been in.

  “We need to go, don’t make me get Redd on you,” Miku jokes. It’s great that she can laugh about having Turned, but deep down I know she’s still dealing with a lot of guilt from having murdered someone. If she had forgiven herself all the way, the crimson would be gone from the tips of her wings.

  Since Redd has gone back to being Miku, there are still some Angels who fear her. Sometimes they see her and start to tremble. She goes out of her way to be nice to them but the fact is, once you rip some guy’s heart out with your bare hands, it’s hard to make nice.

  “Pretty, can I ask you a question?”

  “I knew it!” she shouted.

  “What?” I ask.

  “It was Rio’s turn to come up here and get you, but he said he wanted me to go. I asked him why and he said ‘no reason’ but I swear there was a little smirk in his voice. He read your Wave and he knew you wanted to ask a question that was embarrassing.”

  “Well…”

  “I’m gonna kill him!” she said to herself.

  “Okay, I don’t have to ask,” I said, giving her my best “puppy dog” sad eyes.

  “Okay, okay. What is it?”

  I perked up and closed the door behind her. Even through we were alone, I felt better knowing we were behind closed doors.

  “How do I get Marcus to have sex with me?”

  “You’re a girl. He’s a guy. Consider it done.”

  “Yeah, I know he wants to but how do I actually make him do it?”

  “Emmy, we’re going to be late.”

  “Pretty, I am going to die in a matter of weeks. I don’t want to leave this world without having made love to Marcus. Please help me; how do I seduce him?”

  “Just do what you normally do with guys.”

  I avoid her eyes and try to play it cool.

  “Oh, okay. Sure. I didn’t know if Angels were different in some way.”

  “Marcus is your first boyfriend, isn’t he?”

  “Kind of…”

  “You have to be confident when you approach him. Don’t do the “Emmy-self-doubt” thing.”

  “I don’t have a—” she raises her eyebrows.

  “Okay, I won’t do that,” I vow.

  “Good. Next you look in his eyes, then slowly lean in like you’re about to kiss him--”

  “Wait! I need to take notes,” I announce, as I scour the room in search of pen and paper.

  “Damn it!” I shout as my search turns up nothing. I turn my room upside down. Miku calmly takes me over to the bed and sits alongside me.

  “You don’t have to write it down. All you need to do is be in control. Be confident. And remember he wants you.”

  She suppresses a smile and lets me go over it yet again.

  “Okay, if I am confident and all the other stuff you said, I should be able to seduce him.”

  “It’s a good bet.”

  She smiles and I get my stuff to head out the door. Then a thought occurs to me. It stops me dead in my tracks.

  “I don’t have any seduction clothes!”

  I run to my closet and begin to pull everything off the hanger. It is exactly as I fear: All my clothes are jeans, sweaters, and cartoon T-shirts.

  “You aren’t trying to sleep with him this morning are you?”

  “No, but I need to go shopping. I need to look like…her.”

  “This is about Ameana,” Miku concludes.

  “No. Well, not really. It’s just that she is stunning all the time. I know I won’t be that way but I want to be as beautiful and perfect as I can be. C’mon Pretty, his last girl was a freaking Angel!”

  “So?”

  “So that means she had a perfect Angel body. Along with perfect Angel breasts.”

  “You have breasts.”

  “Yeah, but there not…done yet. I always thought they would get full and wonderful in a year or two. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I don’t have a year.”

  “Don’t worry. Whatever time doesn’t give you, Victoria’s Secret will.”

  “Okay, as long as it has lots of padding cause…”

  I study my chest in the mirror again.

  “You keep doing that and you will never get Marcus to sleep with you.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Comparing yourself to another girl. Guys hate that. You’re amazing all on your own. You have to go in knowing that.”

  “You’re right. I am fine. The way I dress is fine.”

  “Well…a little shopping couldn’t hurt,” she says softly.

  “Will you go with me?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thank you,” I shout, hugging her tightly.

  “Can I ask you another question?”

  “So, we are officially not going to first period,” Miku says to herself.

  “This is much more important than math.”

  “What is it?”

  “Did you get to have sex when you were human?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did it hurt?”

  “At first, then it got it better.”

  “What did it feel like?”

  “Strange, then nice, and then strange again; he wanted to do like a Q&A afterwards.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. He was like ‘How was I at this part?’ ‘Did I do this right?’ ‘How long should I have done that?’”

  We burst out laughing. For the first time since I knew her, Miku was blushing.

  “Then he launched into a bunch of random facts about the first time. It was like having sex with Wikipedia.”

  “So how would you rate his…?”

  “Website?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Not bad.”

  “How many guys have you…”

  “Q&A guy and someone else.”

  “Did you love him?”

  “Yeah, that’s why it was better with him. I think sex is always better with the guy you love. Because even if it’s bad, it’s good.”

  “What about now, as an Angel?”

  “Sex for us is different.”

  “How?”

  “Put it like this: Sex as a human is like is like a single firecracker. Sex as an Angel is the Fourth of July.”

  “Wow…”

  “I mean it, Emmy. You may not be able to handle it.”

  “But I want to try.”

  “Okay, then talk to Marcus. Just be upfront with him.”

  “Do I need to buy condoms? Do Angels need that?”

  “Condoms are like cute shoes; you always need them. That is unless you’re doing it with an Angel. In that case, you two are fine.”

  “So there’s no way I could get…”

  “No.”

  “I don’t understand why Marcus doesn’t want to do it.”

  “He may be a little busy trying to save your life.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I just want us to have a night together that is perfect. I made a list.”

  “Of course you did.”

  I get up and take a small notepad out from my desk. I hand it to Miku. She begins to read it out loud.

  “Flowers, music, candles…”

  “I try to cover the basics. What do you think?”

  “That’s m
ostly for us. Guys just need one thing: the girl.”

  “I know I’m going overboard, but it’s the memory I want to hold on to when…”

  “You think Marcus is really going to take your life?”

  “He doesn’t have a choice.”

  “You are so brave, Em. I don’t get to say that to you enough.”

  “I’m not really brave, actually. I just try to stay busy and not think about it. It got so bad the other day I actually studied for my chem test.”

  “Wow, you were desperate.”

  “Yeah and I got a B.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yup, leave it to me to become a super nerd just as my time runs out.”

  “When I was dying, I could only think of pain. But if I knew ahead of time, I’m not sure what my last thought would have been.”

  “Some days I think about serious stuff like what would college life have been like; what would my children have looked like; and other days I just think how much it sucks that I’m gonna miss the next installment of “The Hunger Games.””

  Tears spring to my eyes. But I pull them back. I’ve gotten good at that. No more crying all the time. It does little to help. I look down at the floor. Miku places her hand over mine.

  “Frat parties suck, someone always throws up on you. I hear childbirth is excruciating. And the books are always better than the movie.”

  “Well then, I’m totally ready for death now,” I laugh despite myself. She looks at me with sadness and concern.

  “Emmy, I’m sorry that you’re…”

  I know Marcus wants me to keep hoping, but when the girl that died the worst death in Guardian history looks up at you with that much pity…you know the end is very near.

  ***************************

  It was a good thing Miku and I went shopping because a few days later, Marcus texted me. It turns out I didn’t even need to seduce him.

  “Hey, need 2 C U alone”

  OMG! This is it! What do I do? What do I wear? How do I…should I…???

  Okay, Emmy. Do. Not. Panic.

  I make myself calmly reply to make sure that we are both on the same page.

  “Is it about the Triplex?” I text.

  “No. It’s…personal.”

 

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