Become

by Ali Cross

  I felt my Shadow recede, shrinking in on itself, while the other part of me, that spark of warmth I’d wondered at my whole life, began to grow.

  More and more, the warmth took over.

  The tendrils of black snaking up my arms sunk back under my skin, only to be replaced with fiery trails.

  Soon my whole body was aglow, reflecting Michael’s light and sharing my own. I had light to share.

  Michael smiled and squeezed my hands. “This. This is what you are too.” And then he Became.

  Unbidden, I threw my head back and screamed as the most exquisitely wonderful pain slashed through me. And then it was both of our lights shooting high into the dark night.

  We were no longer in human form with Shadows and Halos only. We Were.

  We were angels.

  I was an angel.

  And when he kissed me then . . . it was Heaven.

  “How am I like this? How can I be . . . you know? This.” The glorious light that had filled my mind and body was already fading, already letting the familiar cold take its place. The golden tendrils faded on my left arm and tears sprang to my eyes. I didn’t want to see the black again. But I was pretty sure it didn’t matter what I wanted.

  Michael, his glory receded and only his boyish beauty remaining, considered me. Probably trying to figure out the best way to tell the person you love how they turned out to be a freak.

  “What did your father tell you?” He stumbled on the word father, like he hated to use that word in any context with Lucifer. I wasn’t sure what I thought about that. Because I hated everything Father was, hated the life I’d had in Hell, hated every moment of association with the dark. But he was still my father and as weird as it sounds, I felt something for him. I don’t think it was love, but it was something.

  “Um, nothing? He’s told me basically nothing.” I forced myself to drop my hand and look Michael in the eye. “The only thing I know is that Father has produced many children, but I’m the only one to survive my birth. I assume my mother died in childbirth.”

  Michael nodded. “Why do you think it is that you’ve been the only one to survive? Have you never wondered what made you different from all the others?”

  I didn’t have an answer. Of course I wondered. I lifted my shoulders in a half-hearted shrug.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling me back to the bench. This time we sat facing one another, our knees touching, my hands in his. Sitting, I could look into his eyes better, and oh how I loved to see their warmth and light. It made this horrible conversation bearable. Sort of.

  “Your mother . . . she wasn’t human.”

  I stared at him for a second. What other choice was there? A Gardian would never have been with a demon. Not ever. “She had to be,” I said, a bit too sarcastically. “Look at me. I’m a mess.”

  Michael took a breath, and paused before going on. “You are not a mess. You are glorious. Perfect.” He looked into my eyes, gauging my reaction, I guess. Except I had no idea what he was talking about, so I had no reaction at all. “Your mother was a Valkyrie—one chosen to bring the valiant home to Valhalla because of her beauty, compassion and strength. The Valkyrie embody all that is good in Asgard. They are more than warriors, they are as close to perfection as a Gardian can achieve without Ascension.

  “When Odin,” he gave me a pointed look, “cast Loki and all who supported him, out of Asgard, he sent them to Helheimer—a realm of cold darkness, ruled by Odin’s estranged sister, Hel.”

  “Yeah, I know all about Hell.” I rolled my eyes. No one knows better than me what Hell is.

  “But Lucifer found a way to travel from Hell to Earth—he created a Door and through it he can influence man, rob them of their Ascension. Here, without Odin to protect them, they are completely incapable of resisting him.”

  Michael turned his gaze toward the stone angel presiding over our meeting. A shiver raced down my spine.

  “We were supposed to all come to Earth. A spirit quest, of sorts. A chance to choose the light and Ascend. A chance for true Heaven.” His voice was soft, wistful, like that had been his greatest wish. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want this Earth life.

  “Anyway, Odin couldn’t just let Loki have free reign here, so he sent a handful of Valkyrie who were especially compassionate and fierce. The Valkyrie knew Earth and man. They had come many times to escort valiant warriors to Valhalla, where Odin gives them rest until the time of Ragnarok has come.”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line, but still didn’t look at me. If it weren’t for his fingers wrapped around mine, I might have thought he was already having second thoughts. “I wanted to come—to be on the front lines defending man from Loki and the Fallen—it seemed like what I’d been created for.

  “But Odin said I was needed in Asgard. That I would yet one day fulfill my purpose.”

  “What’s your purpose?” I asked, kind of afraid to speak too loudly or interrupt his story.

  “He wouldn’t tell me. And I’m not sure I understand even still.” When he looked back at me, there was so much tortured sadness in his eyes. I wasn’t sure which was worse, him not looking at me, or him looking at me with such pain.

  “We had so much time together, you and I. It seems we’ve always been together.” He squeezed my hands, and his gaze filled with love.

  “So what happened to the Valkyries who came to fight Father?”

  Michael swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and looked down at our hands. “Well, they organized The Hallowed—as Cornelius told you.”

  I nodded. I was coming to understand this part.

  “The Valkyries loved man. And they loved the men and women of The Hallowed who gave their lives in the fight against the dark. Many of the Valkyries turned against Loki themselves—striving to banish him from Earth before he stole away anymore of the ones they loved.”

  I couldn’t figure out from his tone what Michael thought of that. Did he despise them? Did he think man wasn’t worth fighting for? Because a demon was probably even worse.

  “Your mother, Desi, was the queen of the Valkyries. She watched as her sisters time and again failed in their fight against Loki. And so she gave herself to him.”

  “She did what?” What the hell? “And I bet she’s dead now, too. Isn’t she?”

  Michael nodded and the brief lift to my heart fell, crashing to the bottom of my stomach.

  “You were right when you guessed she died giving you life.”

  “I knew it.” Because I was desolation—and death and destruction was my promise. Just like Father always said.

  “Desi, you need to understand—she knew. She knew exactly what she was doing and she chose it—she chose to be with Loki.”

  I couldn’t stand it. I jumped to my feet and took two fast steps away from him. I stood staring at the praying hands of the stone angel, determined not to look at Michael. I imagined grasping those small, innocent hands in mine and crushing the hope right out of them.

  “Why?” I asked the statue. “Why would she do something so . . . horrible?”

  “For a long time The Hallowed had been losing the battle against the dark. Your mother knew that the only chance we had was for someone stronger than any human to stand against him.” He paused and cleared his throat. It seemed like he had something more to say, but wasn’t too happy to say it. I almost turned around. Almost.

  “The Hallowed asked Odin to intervene. To send Valkyries once more. But there are few left, and he said no. He said he’d already sent many of his precious daughters and man and demons had cut them down, killing them and their offspring to the very last one. He said he could do no more.”

  I whirled around, prepared to demand what kind of god would decide something so cruel and heartless like that. But a thought tickled the outside of my consciousness. I felt like if I’d only think about it a moment, I’d understand. I’d understand all of it.

  “But you’re here!”

  “It is against Odin’s wish
es,” he said quietly, his head bowed. “As I have said, Heimdall is a friend. He has allowed me to watch you. Every time you came within his purview, he would call me. When he foresaw your return to Earth, I left—without asking Odin’s leave.”

  “But—won’t Odin be angry? Will he let you return?”

  Michael raised his eyes from the wet sidewalk to look at me. “I don’t care whether I return home—as long as I am with you, I will be in heaven.” Tears pooled in his eyes, and it broke my heart to see such pain, such love, in them.

  “I Remember the day like it was yesterday.” He stared at me, hard. I was powerless to turn away. “We were in the garden, sparring. You with your staff, me with my sword. We’d fought together for so long that we just ended up laughing because we knew each other’s tricks. We knew by heart which moves we’d make.” Laughter carried in his voice and I cracked a smile, but Michael didn’t. He just continued to speak like he was telling me the most terrible story in all the worlds.

  “And Odin called you. Though I hadn’t been summoned, I went with you. We were one.” So easy. Just like that.

  There was no him and no me.

  We were one.

  “I thought he would call you to be a Valkyrie—there was no better choice among all the Gardians. But he asked you, ‘Would you give your life, and possibly your eternal soul, to be my weapon against the Trickster?’”

  In a flash Michael stood before me, my face cupped in his hands. “And oh, my brave, brave, love. Odin had barely spoken the question before you said yes. And my heart broke.” His tears fell then, like a dam had broken.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

  “No, my love. No. Don’t be sorry.” He kissed my cheeks, then locked his lion-eyes on mine. “My heart was broken at the thought of you in such peril—but I knew you would do it. As quickly as you answered, I already knew. You loved Odin. You loved your people. You would do whatever he asked of you. And in truth, there was never anyone more capable than you.”

  Michael tipped my face toward him, deepening the connection between us. “You are desolation, my love. You are, and ever will be our greatest weapon against Loki and his demons. This is the purpose for which you were created. I am honored to love you. I am honored to call you mine.”

  His words, his gaze, the feeling in my heart.

  The cold on my skin, the fire in my soul.

  It was everything,

  consuming,

  overpowering,

  empowering.

  I collapsed in tears on his chest.

  Desolation.

  Akaros’ voice slithered between my ears and took up residence right between my eyes. My head throbbed with the promise of a migraine. I would speak with you.

  I backed away from Michael. He must have seen the sudden fear on my face because his eyes grew wide with alarm. “What? What is it?”

  “I’ve been summoned.” I fought to keep my voice even, completely free of emotion or concern. If there was a chance The Hallowed were wrong, now might be my only opportunity to speak with Akaros, to clear things up, save my friends from getting in harm’s way. In Father’s way.

  “Summoned?” Michael said, the muscles in his arms bunching with tension.

  “It’s just Daniel,” I lied, as easily as breathing. I shrugged in an effort to sell it. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Just another all-nighter or something he wants to show me off at.”

  “I’ll come with you.” He took my hand and turned toward the parking lot.

  I stood still, forcing him to turn back to me. “Um, no. It’s okay. It’s just a party, seriously. Not a big deal.” I looked toward St. Mary’s and gestured in an I-don’t-know-what-the-hell-to-say sort of way. “Do they know when, you know, all this stuff is gonna go down?”

  Michael shrugged, but his eyes were wary and he didn’t speak.

  “Well, so it’s okay, right? I’ll just go, satisfy Father—keep him from suspecting anything. Meet up later?”

  “So you won’t mind if I come with you then.” And he was so serious, his expression as dark as a thundercloud, that I laughed out loud. A real laugh this time, that made Michael soften just a bit.

  With the release the laughter had given me, I relaxed into Michael’s arms and sighed as he embraced me. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? To go to one of Daniel’s parties? I mean, really.” I laughed again, willing him to believe me, to realize he didn’t want to even step foot on Daniel’s property again, let alone hang out there for a couple hours.

  At last his body relaxed and he squeezed me to him before letting go. “I guess they could probably use me in there.” He glanced over his shoulder toward St. Mary’s.

  Seeing my chance, I went for it. “Yeah. I bet Miri would appreciate another sane person joining the debate.” Michael’s rumbled laughter made me wish I could press my cheek to his chest, just to feel it. “Try to get them—at least Miri and Father Cornelius—to get some sleep. Dawn’ll be here soon.” I stepped away from him, stretching our fingers out between us.

  “I’ll be back as quick as I can, okay?”

  Michael looked up at the sky that had lightened to a navy blue with the coming morning. He stuffed his hands into his pocket. “As quick as you can.”

  “Deal!” And I didn’t stick around to see if he’d really let me go or if he’d insist some more that he come with me, I just took to the sky and flew.

  chapter thirty

  I knew Michael only wanted to protect me, but I wasn’t afraid to return to Daniel’s house alone. Whatever else I was, whatever Akaros had planned, Father had no reason to doubt me and every reason to protect me. Plus, maybe The Hallowed were wrong anyway.

  Of course there was no party—though there could have been. Evil likes the night life, after all.

  But as I circled down and alighted on the cement near the front door I saw Daniel’s mansion was strangely deserted.

  No cars in the driveway.

  No Enrique (or Enrique substitute) by the door.

  No voices from the shadowy grounds.

  Inside, silence waited. Dark and deadly.

  “James?” I called. And suddenly I needed to see him. To tell him . . . what, I’m not sure. That he didn’t have to live the way Daniel lived? That he could be more? Because he could be much more. I called again, but he didn’t answer. No one answered.

  I’d expected to find Akaros holding court much like Father did, surrounded by the lowlifes that hung out at Casa del Diablo. I’d expected to find something. I hadn’t expected nothing.

  Which gave me a very bad feeling. A feeling I thought might be helped with a few weapons.

  I ran up the stairs to my room, fear fueling me now.

  Cold hit me like a wall when I reached the landing at the top of the stairs. I had to stop and catch my breath, bracing myself against the newel post to keep from falling. I reached with my Shadow—but it wasn’t Father. This cold had the flavor of Akaros and the pull of an enormous amount of power from Hell. I shivered, swallowed the fear, and ran to my room. Cornelius can’t be right. It can’t be happening so soon.

  Inside, I rushed first to the closet where I didn’t even hesitate grabbing Aaron’s coat from the rod and pulling it on. I breathed him in. Felt the sorrow and shame that always accompanied memories of Aaron. But for the first time I also felt hope for redemption. And though that hope felt unfamiliar and its weight rested somewhat uncomfortably on my heart, I nevertheless straightened and pushed away the sadness. There was work to be done—and maybe, just maybe, I’d find that redemption. If not for myself, then for Miri, for James, for Aaron, and for Lucy.

  I could hope for them.

  I pulled on my Doc boots—the ones I’d always favored, and turned to face my makeshift dojo.

  In long strides I crossed the room and surveyed the weapons hanging on the wall. I tried to pick just one, but I needed them all. Aaron’s coat had many deep pockets, so I stuck two pairs of nun chucks into the left inside pocket. I realized I could shov
e a pair of short sticks behind the straps of my bra—they made the collar of Aaron’s coat stand up, but it would have to do. And of course I grabbed my staff. It wasn’t the one Odin had given me so long ago, but it had always been my best weapon.

  I caught a blur of motion in the mirror as I hurried past—I looked like some goth version of Lara Croft. But the lady had nothing on me—with the hint of Shadow and Halo stretching out behind me, I looked fierce.

  Glorious.

  Dreadful.

  Me.

  I pulled my hair into a ponytail as I nudged the bedroom door open with my elbow, and didn’t even bother to shut it behind me.

  At the bottom of the stairs I stood, listening. Though I didn’t hear anything, the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I turned and headed down the hallway toward the back of the house.

  All was dark and silent. And though I could see through the windows that the backyard was empty, like the house, I pulled the door open and crept outside.

  At first, there was nothing.

  I stepped onto the patio, taking four or five strides forward.

  I cocked my head to listen.

  He was here.

  Akaros. I reached with my mind, ready now to face him. Or at least as ready as I could be.

  A low moan drifted through the darkness. And it spoke of pain. And loss. And a kind of giving up.

  Come, Akaros replied.

  I ran.

  And then I flew.

  Though, it turns out, they weren’t far away.

  Of course they were at the gazebo—the place I’d finally Become and the place I’d committed murder. The place of my shame.

  I landed at the base of the steps in a shower of golden light. Akaros stood as himself, wings spread wide and barely contained within the small enclosure. He clapped his hands lazily.

  “Ah, my student has returned,” he said with laughter in his voice. “Though it seems you’ve found another master.” His black eyes glinted with the reflection of my Halo, his lips curling into a snarl. I wondered if he thought it was a smile.