Jeremy gave a thumbs-up sign to Allison, who beamed back at him. Even Lili couldn’t equal her radiant smile. The young woman was so happy for Jeremy that she was positively glowing.
Flint rubbed his hands and rose hesitantly from the bed. He wavered again for a moment, and without thinking, Allison came over to hold him steady. He thanked her with a weak smile. And held her tightly against him.
Lili also got to her feet, but she was white as a sheet. Jeremy held her up, troubled once again by the shapely forms he could feel beneath his hands. She was temptation incarnate, and he could feel his heart do a loop-the-loop. And yet, her soft thighs couldn’t completely wipe away the memory of Allison’s little hand in his own just a few minutes earlier. At least … not completely.
Claire climbed into Angela’s bed to read her a story. As Jeremy looked on, he finally felt that his soul was appeased. They decided to leave the mother and daughter alone, and passed through the wall. The two elderly Angels were so exhausted that the passage was actually a bit difficult for them. Once outside, they were unable to unfurl their wings, and could only walk, still leaning heavily on their young companions.
“What you did for me back there was amazing,” Jeremy repeated after a while. “How can I ever repay the favor?”
“You don’t have to thank us,” Flint said with a wave of his hand. “Angels don’t do things out of their own interest. We gave you a hand: That’s all there is to it. Maybe one day you’ll be able to help somebody out and repay your debt.”
Jeremy and Allison exchanged a look, both ashamed now to have doubted the two Angels’ good intentions. Especially after the incredible exertion both had made.
They caught a bus back to Manhattan and the two elderly Angels invited them back to Flint’s place. He lived in a magnificent two-story penthouse decorated with dark wood finishing and blue, white, and gold marble. The apartment was huge—at least six thousand square feet—and empty of all human furnishings. Flint had filled it with Mist furniture. All the “real” doors in the penthouse were open, but to recreate some privacy in each room, Flint had added beautifully sculpted doors made of Mist, which the Angels could open and close as they wished.
“Extraordinary!” exclaimed Jeremy, as he walked from room to fabulous room. “How did you find this place?”
“Oh, it’s just one of the prerogatives of us Ancients. The owner is an old man who doesn’t even know how many apartments he owns anymore. I convinced him to redo this one, and then to forget about it. It doesn’t really cost him much, since he’s a billionaire. This way, I have a place to stay without having to depend on a living person. It’s quite a luxury.”
Aha! Now Jeremy understood why so many wealthy people held on to empty apartments, often for no good reason. It was the old Angels that talked them into it!
Jeremy admired the furniture and the various objects that Flint had created in each room. The overall impression was quite impressive, even though he knew it was all ephemeral.
“But don’t you have to make everything over from time to time?” he asked.
Remembering how his stupid loincloth kept disappearing on him, Jeremy looked warily at the armchairs. He had no desire to find himself laid out flat on the floor.
Flint only laughed.
“Don’t worry, my young friend. Everything you see here was made by me, or by other Angels who passed over at least five hundred years ago. The Mist we use has been compacted, you might say, and those chairs can last for years. And when they disappear, I just make new ones, or else I get in touch with other Angels who make them for me.”
Flint sighed in relief as he lowered himself onto an overstuffed armchair, while Lili did the same on one of the five sofas that filled the vast living room.
“There’s plenty to drink in the bar,” Flint said. “Allison, Jeremy, help yourself, and while you’re at it, could you bring something for us as well, please? I don’t think I could even lift a finger right now.”
Jeremy made a gesture at Allison to let her know he’d take care of everything. He brought back a few bottles that contained, to his great surprise, liquid Mist.
Flint noticed his surprise.
“Yes, we’re able to liquefy the Mist. No real reason for it, but I must admit I like to tip a glass every now and then. So, how about a toast!”
Jeremy raised his crystal glass, made of a bluish Mist. It was nearly transparent, much like the plates at the restaurant. He thought Flint was going to toast their victory over the red Angel, but what the old Angel said left him speechless:
“A toast to you, my dear Allison and my dear Jeremy, and to your moving in to my apartment with me!”
12
The Taste of Experience
When she heard Flint’s words, Allison let her glass fall from her hand. Much less fragile than its earthly equivalent, it only rolled across the floor as ribbons of Mist spilled out.
Jeremy calmly set down his own glass on the coffee table and stared intently at Flint, while an embarrassed Allison did her best to clean up the mess.
“You’re inviting us to come and live … here, with you?” he finally asked.
His heart was beating madly, like that of an animal caught in a trap.
“We older Angels often make such propositions,” said Lili, who, having sensed Jeremy’s anxiety, gave him a bemused look. “If a young Angel provides us an opportunity for excitement, we offer to look after him. Considering all the problems you’ve been having with the red Angel feeding off your sister, and Allison’s quest for vengeance, we’ll have enough on our hands to stave off boredom for quite some time. So you could say that we owe you a favor, and not the contrary. And in order to show our appreciation, the least we can do is feed you, clothe you, and offer you a place to sleep.”
Jeremy relaxed. Presented in that light, it seemed like a reasonable exchange. So why did he feel like he was being toyed with?
Lili yawned and stretched languorously, like a red-haired cat, and Jeremy and Flint’s eyes were instantly drawn to her inviting silhouette. Allison managed to stifle a look of exasperation.
“Hmmm, I’m dead tired!” she laughed. “Flint, is my room still furnished?”
“I remake your bed every year, my dear, in the hopes that you will return to grace me with your presence,” replied Flint, his voice dripping with honey.
“Oh go on, you old playboy. Well, I’m going to get some sleep. See you later!”
She rose to her feet and quickly walked off. A few seconds later it was Allison’s turn to yawn. She blushed and tried to hide her embarrassment.
Flint smiled.
“I see that everyone is exhausted. It’s true that it was quite an evening! Let me show you your rooms.”
He placed his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to impose anything on you or harm you in any way, Jeremy. If you don’t want to stay here, I won’t be upset, OK? Neither you nor Allison owes me anything at all. Sleep here tonight, and we’ll talk about it again in the morning.”
Jeremy hesitated for a moment. He looked over at Allison, who had only just “passed over” after all and looked completely drained.
“Thank you, Flint,” he acquiesced. “That’s very kind of you.”
Flint gave him a friendly sock on the arm.
“Kind? Are you kidding? Thanks to you, I had a most enjoyable evening! We sent that horrible red devil straight back to hell—wherever hell may be. It was kind of you to allow us to accompany you.”
Jeremy was about to thank Flint again when he caught him gazing hungrily at Allison. She had once again underestimated her powers of attraction, and was stretching with obvious pleasure, just as Lili had a few minutes earlier. He didn’t like what he saw.
“But tomorrow, I’ll take Allison back to my house,” he added. “Er, my mother’s house, I should say. It’s a huge mansion with tons of empty rooms. No one will bother us there.”
Flint just shrugged. Apparently Jeremy’s decision didn’t
bother him, which was a relief. If Flint had made the same overture to Einstein, the scientist probably would’ve been thrilled. He would have gained access to the privileged world of two Angels who were hundreds of years old. Maybe even thousands.
The blue Angel led them to an immense bedroom with a gigantic bed. Flint certainly knew how to do things right: immaculate white sheets, a light-blue blanket (completely useless since it was so warm), soft pillows (did Flint fill them with feathers from his wings? Jeremy chided himself for being so flippant) and a very pretty, equally useless bathroom. There was an adjoining door—a “real” door, which had remained open—to another room, which was just as big. Allison dropped tiredly onto one of the beds after saying goodnight to Jeremy. Flint then retired, leaving his two protégés alone to get some rest.
One of the things that Jeremy missed the most from his former life was the fact that he couldn’t wash himself (since he no longer needed to). When he had been alive, he would do his best thinking in the shower with the water beating down. In fact, it was where he had come up with some of his best ideas.
But there were no showers in the afterlife. Just a bunch of Angels, misty food, and all kinds of strange things that he couldn’t understand.
He got back to his feet.
He needed to talk to Allison.
Jeremy tiptoed into her room and sat down on the edge of the elegant blue-and-red bed next to Allison, who appeared to be sleeping already. Unfortunately, since the bed was made of Mist, it moved when he placed his weight on it and Allison snapped straight up in panic. The frightened look on her face went away when she saw it was Jeremy. Taking in her reaction, he didn’t know whether or not he should be happy or mad. She had placed her dress on a chair made of Mist, and was naked beneath the misty blankets.
Jeremy forgot what he wanted to say.
“You scared me,” she chided. “You don’t make any noise at all when you walk!”
“Sorry about that,” Jeremy whispered, making a sign to her to keep her voice down. “I just wanted to apologize.”
Her blue eyes opened wide, and she pulled her covers closer.
“Apologize? For what? It’s my fault that you were murder—” She had a hard time saying the word. “That you passed over, not yours!”
“I wanted to apologize,” he continued patiently, “because I didn’t know that Flint and Lili were going to use their wings to carry us to my mother’s house. And I can imagine how difficult the voyage must have been for you, with Flint pouring on the charm like that.”
If he had never met Lili, Jeremy probably would have been filled with jealousy, like a big gorilla who beats on his hairy chest (not all that hairy in his case) and challenges his rival. But because of Lili, the delicious Lili, everything was different. He had thought he was in love with Allison, and had only had eyes for her. Clark’s two Angels had been right: He shouldn’t fall in love with a living girl, but with an Angel instead!
But now that the gorgeous redhead was no longer there to steal his heart, Jeremy was once again won over by innocent, beautiful, and stubborn-as-a-mule Allison.
She leaned back on her pillows and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, only making them look all the more tempting. Jeremy swallowed hard and looked her right in the eyes.
“What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea,” Allison shrugged. “On the one hand, Flint frightens me, but it’s true that he hasn’t tried anything on me yet. He just wants to help me to …” She was about to say, “get revenge on Ventousi and put the new drug to cure cancer on the market,” but then realized that it wasn’t exactly true. What Flint was looking for was much simpler than that: a cure, yes, but a cure for boredom. “He … he’s a good person. And you did tell me that blue Angels tend more toward positive emotions, right? So that means we have nothing to fear!”
Jeremy sighed in resignation. He decided not to tell Allison that Flint had “clouded” her mind. There was no reason to frighten her.
“I really don’t know what to tell you, Allison. I only passed over a few days before you did. I can’t make up my mind about Flint, at least not yet.”
“Everything is so … so incredible! Sometimes I still think it’s all a dream.”
She looked at Jeremy out of the corner of her eye before adding: “A really exotic, scary dream.”
She quickly changed the subject.
“But tell me about you!”
Jeremy had never talked to anybody about his family. Never. But when he saw the innocent look on Allison’s face, he decided to confide in her. To tell her everything. He had never confided in anyone during his time on Earth, and had died all alone. He didn’t want to make the same mistake twice. Plus, he had finally found someone who would understand him.
She listened to him talk for hours, asking questions every now and then that proved she was really listening. He told her about his tyrannical grandfather, his father’s untimely death, his mother and his stepfather, his half sister, his whole life. The fact that he was James Stuyvesant’s grandson had cut him off from the rest of the world, and all its harsh realities. Not so much because of the piles of money that had seemed to swallow him up a little bit more each day, but because of his grandfather himself, who had been so demanding with Jeremy.
He wanted his grandson to be perfect. The best. The smartest, the strongest. The hardest. Just like him.
Allison couldn’t believe her ears when he told her that he had almost never had any girlfriends. When he was young, his grandfather had made sure the boy was always at his side. In college, he worked too much and didn’t like to drink, which had made him different from the other students. And he had been too obsessed by all his mathematical equations, his success, and making money. He had never had much time for girls. Allison couldn’t help but think that he must have been the cutest nerd on campus.
In some ways, he was just like her. Of course, he wasn’t a virgin like her—he confessed to have been “seeing someone” for a while—but he barely had more experience than she did. It made Allison blush when she realized how attracted she was to his innocence. Very attracted.
“Now you,” he said when he’d finished with his long and exhausting psychological tour de force. “I’ve laid myself bare. It’s your turn.”
They had dropped all pretense of politeness after the first hour, and after four more hours, they both had the strange impression they had known each other for ages.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve seen me bare a number of times already, haven’t you?” she said with a mischievous smile.
He blushed. She loved that too. Making him blush. And making him laugh, as well.
She told him all about her life. He knew some of the most important parts, but not everything. He was moved again when she told him about how her mother had suffered. She broke off with a shudder.
“Do you think I’ll see her? Do you think we might meet here again?”
“I don’t know. I heard that a lot of the Angels who suffer too much on Earth forget to feed themselves, and don’t know how to enjoy the afterlife.”
Allison nodded. It was true. Even after having tasted the Mist, regardless of its color, she could understand why some Angels might not have the heart to keep on fighting.
“I never saw her anywhere during all those days that I was follow—uhh, that I was accompanying you. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t stop by from time to time to see how you were doing.”
Allison’s eyes filled with tears. He put his arms around her, and she held him close as well. They remained in a tight embrace for a long moment, like two little kids too frightened to move.
Little by little, Jeremy could feel her relaxing. She accidentally rubbed her magnificent breasts against his chest, and he could feel a tingling beneath his loincloth. Uh oh, knowing how timid she was, she would probably have a heart attack if she realized. He tried thinking about things that would cool him off—ice cubes, a frozen mountain lake—but nothing worked. She was so soft a
nd warm in his arms, alive and real, so perfect, so sensual, that it made his whole body quiver.
And when she raised her blue eyes and looked into his, it only seemed natural that he should lean over and place his mouth against her pink, full lips.
The feelings she felt were indescribable. She had only died a few short hours ago, and had found herself in a strange, unknown world. She had been afraid, had felt alone and abandoned, and now in a flash, her whole new existence was being turned topsy turvy—again!
Just from one kiss.
Because the kiss from this Angel was nothing like any she had received before. She may have never slept with a man, but she had done enough serious flirting in her day to learn a thing or two. Especially about frustration. But now? She couldn’t even believe that such perfect complicity could exist. She didn’t feel awkward at all. Their mouths moved in just the right way, in perfect harmony, so perfect that she didn’t even realize she’d stopped breathing and was feeling light-headed. A strange warmth was coursing through her body. She realized that the misty sheets had slid off and, naked now, Jeremy was holding her in his arms. She moaned when he pressed himself tightly against her, as if their two bodies were one, and suddenly she felt a wave of desire rising within her, so powerful she thought she might faint. At the same time, Jeremy seemed to lose control, overwhelmed by the same desire. His hands slowly moved down to Allison’s firm behind, and he began grinding his hips against hers. With one of his hands he caressed the soft curve of her hips before sliding it between her thighs. He continued to caress her and she moaned again, completely abandoning herself to the pleasure.
Impatient now, goaded on by an irrepressible desire to thumb his nose at Death in a celebration of love and life, he lay down on the bed beside her and removed his loincloth, quivering, eager as never before to show his love.
He’d gone one step too far.
The excitement and elation Allison had felt were swept aside by a sudden wave of panic. She jerked back in fear and gave Jeremy a violent shove that sent him tumbling from the bed.
Color of Angels' Souls Page 20
