Earthbound Wings: An Earthbound Novel (The Psychic Seasons Series Book 6)

by ReGina Welling

  Both of us planted our butts in the seats, and I chose an oatmeal cookie with genuine appreciation. Crisp on the outside, chewy in the middle, with just a hint of nutmeg.

  “What can you tell me about your mission?” Cassandra poured pale tea that smelled faintly of roses into a delicate cup. I sensed she had chosen the best of her meager collection for my use, and angel Adriel took another hit in the jerk department.

  Picking my way through a conversation that gave her enough information to satisfy, but left out the faeries entirely, I described my encounter with Leith and the dead girl from the alley.

  Sparse eyebrows enhanced with a shaky line of pencil two shades too dark arched high.

  “He took you to his lair?”

  “I suppose so.” Who uses the word lair outside of a comic book? The word gave me visions of tiptoeing into the Batcave, and I barely held back a snort.

  “Fancy that.”

  “You know Leith, I take it.” Biting down on the questions that threatened to fly out of my mouth, I feigned disinterest. Cassandra saw right through that ploy. I could tell by the twinkle in her eye.

  “Hard to avoid him if you’re part of the community.” By which I assumed she meant the supernatural community, since it was hard to picture him taking an active part in any civic-minded one. “He gets around.” What was I supposed to make of that?

  I would not ask.

  “What do you mean?” Mouth and mind, clearly not in contact with each other.

  Another twinkle. “Not romantically, dear. He just seems to have a knack for knowing when his unique abilities are needed.”

  “He’s a vigilante.”

  Wrong word. Cassandra frowned. “A protector of innocence, more like. Evil things are happening every day. Violence for its own sake is on the rise. People are so angry, so lost, and hurting each other over the most insignificant things. Murder. Suicide. Families killing their own. It’s not normal.”

  Clouds of despair shadowed her eyes.

  “What’s more, Darkspawn have been taking the souls of innocents right out from under your noses, and you angels don’t seem to care that it’s happening.” Gentle accusation tinged her words and I bristled in the face of it. The fire in my eyes shocked her into saying thoughtfully, “Ah, I see. You had no idea.”

  “How long has this been going on?” I bit my lip and wondered if guardians had been left intentionally out of the loop, or if it was just me. Something like this should have been big news.

  Cassandra paused to think. “The first time I heard of it was almost two years ago. A mother who had lost her little boy to cancer asked me to contact him. She was convinced she had seen a shadow lurking around him as he passed, and became frantic to know if he had made it into the light.” A shudder ran through her hunched frame. “Rules being what they are, he couldn’t tell me everything that happened, but he did tell quite a story about how the bright light flared like fireworks. What he described sounded like an angel battling the darkness to clear his path. After that, I began to hear similar stories from my friends in the local community.”

  “Just the local community. How widespread is your network?”

  “This is the information age, my dear. Email, texting.

  My expression must have given away my thoughts.

  “She wasn’t hiding it from you.”

  “Then Kat had no idea this was happening?”

  “None. Until we spoke last night, she was as in the dark as you were, which is significant given what happened when you took on that Earthwalker.”

  “How many people know about that?” I felt like I had just noticed my underwear was on the outside, and had been all day, and no one had told me. Information age, indeed.

  “Not too many.” Cassandra grinned. “Just those of us who were in the psychic blast radius. Word came down quick that we needed to keep mum, so only twenty or so that I know of. Our guides put out the word pretty fast that one of their own needed protection, and to keep quiet about what we had seen.”

  “That you know of.” I repeated hopelessly as a new thought occurred. “And all of them know about me being…” I gestured to my body, “…earthbound?” A kindly but steady gaze was my only answer. Great. Which was worse? Finding out that the psychic community was larger than I thought, or that it was more connected. Or that people and angels had been talking about me. My face flushed red hot and my pulse raced.

  Her child-sized hand rested on mine briefly. “Nothing, not even death is final, Galmadriel. This is but a turn of the wheel, a moment in time.” It was basically the same as her oracle message.

  I found her words comforting in their simplicity and truth. This too shall pass.

  “Thank you, Cassandra. Blessings upon you.” Something of my power flowed between us with a sigh like the breath of a wind, and brought tears to her eyes.

  “The honor is mine, Lightworker.”

  We shared a moment of silence before Cassandra spoke again, “You helped save my friend from being taken into the dark.”

  “Sylvie?”

  “Yes, the girl in the alley.”

  I felt my lips twist, “According to Leith, I just got in the way and messed up his plans for saving her.”

  “Shall we say it was a concerted effort? Sylvie was one of mine. An apprentice like.” Sadness put a frown on Cassandra’s face. “She had great promise, but was easily swayed by pretty words from a treacherous boy with ties to the worst elements in this town. My spirit guides…” her head tilted to the side as she whispered two names, “…do you know them?”

  “Different division.” An easy explanation for a complicated system. “With limited contact.” More like none, given my being cut off completely from my own people.

  “My spirit guides want me to tell you to find out who killed Sylvie. More, they want you to know her death is related to your current assignment.” She turned troubled eyes to mine, “Something keeps blocking them from giving me more information. I wonder if that is for your protection or mine. The danger is real and you will not face it alone.” Cassandra turned thoughtful. “One of your party will fall. Now, take this,” she handed me a small cross suspended on a chain. The cheap metal had already shed most of its thin gold plating. “It belonged to Sylvie. Finding her killer is the first step—everything hangs in the balance. Tell her to stop in and say goodbye before she moves on.”

  “I will do my best, and hope that it will be enough.” Cassandra’s shoulders sagged with relief.

  “Bless you, Lightworker.”

  “Bless you, old mother.” The term was a benediction—one I followed by gently laying my hands on her head and letting pure healing light flow from me to her. There is no cure save the final one for old age, but tonight Cassandra would sleep without pain or fear. It was little enough that I could give her.

  Head bowed, she remained in her chair while I let myself out.

  Chapter Ten

  With Sylvie off telling her story to Leith, the only idea that came to mind was to go back to the beginning and see if I could find anything that might lead me to this Dante character. I had barely covered any ground at all when I realized I had no idea where to look for the scene of the crime. Landing in the alley while dead unconscious, and being transported out of there before I had a chance to orient myself had left me with no frame of reference to work from. Sylvie hadn’t exactly been a fount of useful information, ether. Probably because I hadn’t thought to ask.

  Leith would know. Not that I had the first clue where to find him, or the inclination to subject myself to what he considered witty banter, which left me with a couple of lousy options. I could methodically search the city like a lunatic on a quest for some fabled artifact, or I could return to the general area of the second alley and…well…use it as ground zero for searching the city like a lunatic on a quest for some fabled artifact. Okay, so there was really only one option with different starting points.

  “Adriel!” Caught up in deciding what my next step should b
e, I failed to notice my proximity to the park where Pam Allen sold pastries from her food truck most days. “Adriel. It is you.” My gut warned me to run away from a situation that was bound to turn awkward. During my last mission—my first as an earthbound angel—I had fallen pretty much out of the sky and into Pam’s life, helped find the man who had killed her brother in a hit and run accident, reunited her with his ghost, and eventually helped his shade to cross over after thirty years.

  Then, after literally landing in her life and turning it upside down, I had left again without so much as a goodbye. That was how it would have looked to her, never mind that I had had no choice in the matter. Pam had been nothing but kind to me by providing me with a place to live, the clothes on my back, and a job. All of which had been repaid by me deserting her. An apology was the least of my debts. Hot shame stained my skin as I turned to face this woman I considered a friend.

  Pam hit me like a freight train before I could get out a word and hugged me so hard my ribs creaked under the pressure. When she finally pulled back to let me get a good look at her, shock plastered itself all over my face. She looked at least ten years younger now that she had gotten closure from the tragedy. Gone were the shadows that once clouded green eyes. Gone were the lines of sadness that had been etched into her face. Pam was a new woman.

  She hugged me again, then held me at arm’s length. “I’m so happy to see you even if it’s going to cost me ten bucks.” Pam grinned at my confusion. “Kat bet me that I’d see you again. I thought it was just her way of cheering me up, but I should have known better.”

  “The woman never gets it wrong.”

  An awkward silence fell between us until I felt compelled to blurt out, “You must hate me. I’m so sorry. I was on my way to say goodbye when...” I waved a hand to indicate that I’d ended up here. Pam knew better than anyone just how abruptly the Powers could alter my location.

  “I don’t hate you. Of course I don’t. As much as I loved having you in my life, I’m not so selfish that I would keep you from doing for others what you did for me. My life is so different now. There are no words to describe how grateful I am.” While she talked, Pam linked her arm with mine and half dragged me over to sit at one of the tables that dotted the manicured grass near her truck.

  “Stop fretting. All is forgiven. Now tell me what’s been happening with you.”

  “Oh, you know, the same old, same old. Chasing ghosts, finding Julius, learning how to be whatever it is that I am.” Aiming for flippant, I missed the mark and hit somewhere between pathetic and bizarre.

  Pam regarded me silently for several seconds, then she said, “Something’s different.”

  “Different good or different bad?”

  “I’m not sure.” She rested her elbow on the table and continued to regard me speculatively until I felt the urge to squirm. “Want coffee?” The change of subject threw me totally off guard.

  Pam’s coffee? “Uh, yeah.” My mouth was already watering at the suggestion.

  “You won’t leave while I get some?”

  I shook my head, “No, I’ll stay.”

  From where I sat, I witnessed Pam’s short but animated conversation with Hamlin, who carefully avoided looking my way while he poured us each a cup. It seemed not everyone had forgiven me for my abrupt departure. His little crush on me probably had as much to do with the animosity as the protectiveness he felt for his business partner. Grudgingly, he handed her a cardboard carry tray with two cups and two plates.

  When she returned with coffee and pie, I wanted to kiss her. If it had any feet, my sweet tooth would have jumped for joy. Hamlin made exceptional graham cracker pie, a northeastern specialty. Perfectly cooked meringue, creamy vanilla filling, and a crumb crust made each bite nothing short of heaven.

  “You’ve changed.” Pam took up the conversation right where she left off and squinted at me shrewdly. “Loosened up a little,” she offered only that clarification before asking, “How long have you been here?” A subtle way of asking if I had been dodging her calls.

  “Not quite a day. I lost a couple weeks in the transition.”

  Relief loosened the tightness across her shoulders and around her mouth. “Where are you staying?” I skated past one conversational minefield unscathed, only to land right in the middle of a bigger one.

  “Amethyst and Reid have a small house that they don’t use much.” Now she knew I had spoken to at least one of the others, but had not called her and so, despite wanting to protect my friend, I told her everything that had happened since waking up in the alley—including that I needed to find my way back there again.

  “I can help with that.”

  “How?” My mind leapt to thinking she might have some sixth sense I had never heard about, when she burst my bubble with a grin.

  “The Internet. Crime rates are increasing here, but not so swiftly that a murder wouldn’t have made the news. Wait here.” Pam retrieved her phone from the truck and spoke briefly with Hamlin again. The result of that conversation netted me a tentative smile and a wave hello, both of which I returned.

  Settling back beside me, Pam accessed the information quickly from one of the local television sites and gave me an address only a block away from where I had landed the second time. “Sylvie Price, aged twenty. Such a shame. Police have taken her boyfriend in for questioning, but he is not considered a suspect at this time. They’re asking for anyone with information about the crime to come forward, and then it’s the usual statement that the investigation is active and ongoing. I’d bet they won’t release the scene for another day or so.”

  If she was right, perhaps I should consider a different approach.

  “I can’t wait that long. I’m going to…”

  “Call Kat.” We both said at once. Pam giggled—a lighthearted sound given the gravity of Sylvie’s demise. With Sylvie unable to identify her killer, Kat might still be able to pick up on something helpful.

  “How’s Callum?” I changed the subject since this was as involved as I wanted her to be in whatever Sylvie had gotten mixed up in. “Did he finally work up the courage to ask you out?”

  “Yes.” All the humor fell away and I wondered how long it would take me to spit out the foot I’d just lodged in my mouth. Pam clammed up tighter than…well…a clam, what else?

  “It didn’t go well?”

  “It went very well.”

  “Then what? He didn’t call?”

  “He called.”

  I felt the throb as a vein popped out on my forehead.

  “Then why does your face look more pinched than a schoolmarm’s shoes?”

  The comparison got me a raised eyebrow and the barest hint of a smile before the mask dropped back over her features.

  “It didn’t work out. That’s all.”

  “Flipping lie is what that is. Tell me what happened or I’ll…” no end to that sentence came readily to mind. What was I going to do? Beat the answer out of her? I’m an angel. Unless the butt kicking is of the holy kind and a necessity, I am a pacifist by nature, if not by choice.

  Pam bit her lip and I gave her my best authoritative stare, the one I used on my charges when they needed a poke or a prod delivered from what they assumed was a stranger. Quite effective most of the time.

  “He had a thing for you and how am I supposed to compete with that?” One hand lifted to gesture in my general direction. “Even in secondhand clothes that fit you poorly, you’re the total package. Tall, built, and gorgeous. Porcelain skin, red hair. Next to you, I feel like a troll.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her, fixed a look of displeasure on my face, and stared at her until she looked away. “Callum wanted me for no other reason than to stroke his ego.” I ignored her snort over my choice of phrase. “In his eyes, I was a pale second to the woman he had admired from a distance for years, and a safe bet for keeping his heart intact. Do you want the man?”

  “Yes.” A whisper that was close to a sigh.

  “Then stop a
cting the fool, and go out with him the next time he asks.”

  “What if he doesn’t?”

  “Then you will have to suck it up and ask him out yourself.”

  “See, that’s what I mean. You would never have said suck it up before. I think you’re embracing peoplehood. Any chance you’ll ever embrace anything else?” The waggling eyebrows gave me a hint that she was talking romance and that was a hole I had no intention of chasing the rabbit down. Promising to keep in touch, I made a hasty exit before she started trying to pair me off with Hamlin or something.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Do you think this is going to work?” I asked Kat as we ducked under the yellow tape stretched across the mouth of the alley where Sylvie had died.

  “Depends.” Most of Kat’s attention was focused on the tiny cross dangling from her hand. “Sylvie says she didn’t see her killer. Your vision when she touched you bears out her story, which leaves me with a needle and haystack situation. I can use the necklace to home in to a point, but without a lot of luck involved, we’re looking at a long shot. Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Can you give it a little shot of miracle juice? Not a lot, just a nudge in the right direction. Or would that be breaking the rules? There are rules, I assume.” Kat’s nervous chatter filled the silence. “You guys are so hush-hush with that kind of thing.” She got a look at the stunned expression on my face. “No? All right then, I’ll just get on with it.” The hand holding the necklace twitched twice to set the cross swinging. “I’m not going to get into trouble with your Powers for using a sacred symbol as a pendulum, am I?”