by C. Gockel
“Tell me, Silver, what do I want you to say?”
“That I’m sorry for the way I left things. I am. I should have addressed the issue of us way before you started to feel anything for me.”
“Do you know when that was?” she asks.
“I’m guessing a few weeks after we met,” I reply.
“When we were rushing out the window and you asked my name, that’s when I told you my human name. That’s when I fell for you. Day one.”
Now I officially feel like crap.
“Diana, I didn’t know.”
“Was there ever anything between us?” she asks in a small voice.
“Yeah, of course. You and I, we had great chemistry.”
“ ‘Chemistry’?” she says, laughing.
“I needed someone and you were there. I’m never going to forget that.”
“Look, I’m a Kaster now. So helping you wouldn’t be the smart thing to do.”
“Diana, you can’t—”
“But I’m going to do the stupid thing and help her. Ever since I met you I’ve been doing stupid things. I didn’t understand love until us. Now I do. Love is a slow peeling away of sense and self-control. Once that’s gone you are left with foolish decisions and desperate acts. To be in love is to be a slave. I’m free of you after this.”
“Thank you,” I reply.
She takes various mixtures out from her purse. She instructs me to get vials, water, and utensils to stir the mixtures. I follow her directions closely. When everything is finally mixed, she is left with two vials. One of them is silver and the other is bright red.
“I could give her the wrong thing and watch her die,” she says.
“You wouldn’t do that,” I reply.
“Because I’m such a good person?” she mocks.
“Because you know what her death would do to me.”
After Diana administers the mixtures to Pryor, she tells me it will take a few hours for them to take effect. Meanwhile, she places what’s left of the red mixture on my wings. She tells me it will help them heal from the attack but that it’s wise to rest and not fly for a while. I study her movements. She really is a gifted Specialist. Her mixtures are precise and potent. I can already feel my wings beginning to mend.
“I forgot how focused you are when you’re working,” I tell her.
“I can’t make a mistake.”
“You already made one. I mean really, Diana, Malakaro? How could you go work for him?”
“Being a Kaster enhances my powers greatly. Why would I turn that down?”
And here we are, on different sides yet again.
“Hey, you remember when we snuck into Disney World after it closed?” she says.
“I can never look at a tea cup the same way again,” I reply, shaking my head in amusement.
She burst out laughing. I’d forgotten her laugh. It was melodic and filled the room. I think in another life things could have worked out for us.
“Diana, you know I never meant to hurt you, right?” I ask.
She looks up at me and there’s sadness behind her eyes. It’s slight but I swear it’s there.
“I waited,” she confesses.
“Waited?”
“Yeah, that night I waited for you to come back to the alley. I figured you were blowing off steam.”
I don’t know what to say to that. No matter what, I’m the jerk in this. Yet I would not have done anything differently. I had to go that night, that much I know. She clears her throat and starts to put her supplies away.
“How’s your health now that you are near her?” Diana asks, looking at my chest.
“It’s fine,” I lie.
“No, it’s not. The closer you are to ‘flames’ over there, the worse it becomes,” she says, signaling towards Pryor.
“I’m handling it.”
“How?” she pushes.
“I’m making sure that we are just friends and nothing more.”
“Silver, the carving was moving back then and she was nowhere near you. Now that you two are together...”
“Pryor and I aren’t together.”
“Wait, so you two aren’t having—”
“No, we’re not,” I say hurriedly.
“Have you two ever...?”
“No, we haven’t and I really don’t want to discuss this.”
“We can go out to the shed and see if there’s any ‘chemistry’ left between us,” she says.
“Thanks, but I just want to stay with her and make sure she’s okay.”
“Just thought I’d offer,” she replies as she heads for the door.
“Silver, everything aside, Malakaro enhanced our powers far beyond what any demons have known before. He’s serious about killing her,” she warns.
“He’s gonna have to go through me.”
“He called on Harm to take out the youngest Noru. Harm did his job. And if the time comes, and Malakaro needs me to take one or all of you out...I will.”
“I know...”
The first thing Pryor does when she opens her eyes is scan her surroundings in an effort to place where I have taken her.
“Where am I?” she asks.
“Northern Ireland. Do you remember what happened?”
She nods but doesn’t speak.
“Pry, I’m sorry about Sam.”
She looks away from me and directs her attention towards the ceiling.
“My mom knows about Sam, doesn’t she?” she says, referencing the storm outside.
“Yes, but I’m sure your father is helping her cope,” I reply.
She doesn’t say anything. She just stares off into space.
“We’re not really sure what happened with your powers,” I admit, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s like all our powers: connected to our emotions. I lost control. Did I kill anyone?” she asks in a weak voice.
“The injured humans have been taken to hospitals. I’m sure they will all pull through.”
“If one of them dies?” she asks.
“Then the Omari will come for you, but that won’t happen. I won’t let them punish you. Please don’t worry about that,” I assure her.
“They can come, I don’t care,” she says, void of any emotion whatsoever.
“Don’t say that. You do care. You’re just mourning so—”
“Is Randy okay?” she asks, still not facing me.
“The team is looking after him. And trying to smooth things over with the board.”
She looks over at her wings. They are torn in certain spots and she is unable to move them.
“The Powerball from the Omari did that. You know how they get when human lives are in danger. I’ve been treating your wings with a mixture that should work. It’s helped my wings, but yours were more damaged than mine so it may take longer,” I tell her.
“What time is it in New York?” she asks.
“Um...about three in the afternoon.”
“It’s time to give Sam his snack...” she says, mostly to herself.
Before I can reply, she turns on her side and closes her eyes. She would not open them again for another three days.
Normally for an angel, Recharging is a way for them to revitalize themselves. But in the past three days that Pryor has been Recharging she has only gotten weaker. Her skin is pale and her wings are starting to fray. That happens when an angel is malnourished. When their soul is being attacked. It’s what humans would call depression.
Pryor is not the only one having a tough time with Sam’s death. Her mother is still causing it to rain, though it has now slowed down, the skies are still murky and often crack open with wrathful lightning.
I call Key and ask her what she thinks I should do. Right away she insists on coming over but I am now the First Noru, until Pryor gets better. So, I order her to stay where she is and continue to heal the humans so we can come back home. Key gives me a list of things to get in order to make a mixture called Atcha; it acts as a supplement
and helps keep the soul from weakening even more.
I head to the Seller shop nearby that I’ve been to before. It looks like an ordinary shop with everyday toys displayed in the window. But I know it’s a Seller shop because it has a meter attached to the doorframe. A meter looks like a thin thermometer. It can tell the difference between demon and angel. Since Sellers are not allowed to sell to demons, the meter will sound an alarm if a demon enters.
Since I’m half demon it’s a fifty-fifty chance the alarm will go off. Sellers are basically the “snake oil salesmen” of the Angel world. They are shady and greedy. So, even if I were full demon, they would sell to me but they would do so secretly. And that takes too damn long.
Fortunately, the alarm doesn’t go off. I enter, have a short conversation with the Seller, and get what I need. As I walk out, I decide to test Diana’s mixture. I walk back in the shop and ask the Seller if he’s ever seen me and he says “no.” He has no recollection of having met me just moments before. Diana’s mixture works perfectly.
When I get back to the cabin, I follow the instructions Key gave me and create the mixture. I pour the silver and blue mixture into a bowl, put it aside and wake her.
She pops open her eyes, on high alert.
“Hey, I didn’t want to wake you but you need to—”
“I need a Port,” she says as she leaps up off the bed.
“Why?” I ask.
“I’m going to find The Face and ask her some questions. I’m going to ask her how she and the board could let a demon get to my little brother.”
“It wasn’t a demon that got to him. It was a Kaster.”
“How do you know that?” she asks.
“It’s not hard to guess” I reply, not wanting to bring up the subject of Ruin.
“Which Kaster?” she demands.
“Harm. He got inside the body of the boy next door and was able to enter the house.”
“I need a Port,” she pushes.
“For what? Where are you going?”
“The Face told me that Sam would be safe. I trusted her and she lied to me. I’m going to bash her skull in. Then I’m going to hunt down every Kaster and gut them while they’re still alive. And when I’m done, I will have a family reunion with Malakaro. NOW WHERE’S THE DAMN PORT?”
“Pry, I know how you feel, but—”
“You have no idea how I feel. He was my responsibility. My parents trusted me to look after him and instead I...I can’t fly with my wings like this. WHERE.IS.THE.PORT?” she blares.
“You can’t go back there until we know that no humans died as a result of your powers. If the Omari—”
“I don’t care. I’ll walk to town if I have to,” she declares.
I call after her but she opens the door and takes off. She doesn’t even stop to put on her shoes. She just runs out into the storm wearing just jeans and her tee shirt. I run out after her. Within seconds we are both drenched.
The unnaturally cold rain beats down on us with brute force. The wind threatens to rip the trees from the earth. And the sky breaks open and spits out lightning, one bolt after the other. The ground under our feet is muddy and uneven.
“Pryor, you’re too weak to go anywhere,” I shout out to her.
She looks around for a car or some sort of transportation vehicle and she sees nothing. Determined not to let that stop her, she looks over the side of the mountain.
“Don’t do it. Your wings aren’t healed. If you fall...”
She pays me no attention at all and starts to climb down the mountain.
Damn it!
I go to take flight but then I remember my wings aren’t completely healed either. They may not be able to support the both of us. I start climbing down the mountain in hopes I can reach her and can pull her back up without my wings.
Pryor is a few feet below me. The rain has made her hair clump and stick to her face, giving her zero visibility. I tell her to stay where she is as I carefully climb down to get her. But she manages to move the hair from her face and continues down the mountain.
She plants her foot in what must have felt like a steady foothold, only to have it crumble beneath her. She screams as she drops several feet.
“Pryor!” I roar.
Having no other choice, I take to the sky and dive down to get her. Thankfully I catch her in time, but just as I feared, my wings are starting to give out. I quickly fly us back up to the top of the mountain, just as my wings fail completely. We both land in a muddy ditch a few yards from the cabin.
Pryor goes to take off again, but I wrap my arms around her from behind and pull her back towards me. She struggles but she can’t break free of my hold.
“LET ME GO!!!” she orders.
“I can’t,” I reply.
She tries to use her powers, but my hold on her is preventing her from aiming her hand at me. She fights even harder to break free of me. Fully enraged now, she opens her mouth and clamps down on my forearm. Her bite is vicious and breaks through my skin. Blood seeps out, but the rain quickly washes it away. I gasp slightly but never loosen my hold on her.
“LET ME GO, THEY HAVE TO PAY FOR TAKING HIM AWAY!” she cries out.
“They will,” I promise her.
“THEY HAVE TO PAY!” she screeches in genuine agony.
“They will,” I whisper in her ear.
Her body starts rocking back and forth, but it’s not me she’s fighting. She’s being rocked by a new emotion. It’s not just anger anymore; it’s despair. I feel a warm liquid drip down to my hand; I look, expecting to see more of my blood. But I’m wrong. It’s not blood. For the first time in her life, the most powerful Noru in the world has been brought to tears.
I summon up what energy I have left and pick her up off the ground and carry her back to the cabin. I gently place her on the armchair and place a towel beside her. I then go look for something she can change into. The best I can do is a long sleeve shirt of mine. I stand in front of her and hand her the shirt.
“It’s old but it’s clean,” I promise her.
She doesn’t look up at me. She’s in a full-blown daze. I look beside her and the towel is untouched. I call out her name. She looks at me, but I’m not sure she really sees me. She’s drowning in grief and she doesn’t care about drying off. She doesn’t care about anything right now.
I kneel down beside her and look into her face. She’s stopped crying, which I’m thankful for. She was never a crier. I remember when we were kids and had to take Defensive Flying classes. We were on earth and our instructor made us fly through this impenetrable forest in Japan that the humans called “Suicide Forrest.”
There was a set pattern we were supposed to fly. Pryor lost her way and ended up hitting a tree trunk face first. She slid off the tree, leaving most of her face on it. We all rushed to her side and expected her to be crying and moaning in pain. Instead she pressed her lips together to keep from groaning. And all she wanted to know was if she could try again. She was seven at the time.
“Pry, I’m gonna dry you, okay?” I ask.
She remains silent and distant. After I dry her off, I remove her wet clothes and try my best not to stare at her. I’ve pictured the two of us alone with each other. Even the thought makes my wings expand. But this isn’t the way I want it to happen for us. I mean, if it ever happens.
You know it can’t happen and you know why...
I put my shirt on her and then walk her over to the bed. As I tuck her in, I remember the mixture Key had me make. I take it; I stir it around with a spoon and feed it to her. She pulls away slightly.
“It’ll help you get your strength back,” I plead.
Slowly she opens her mouth. Once the bowl is empty, I head to the armchair to give her some space.
“Don’t go,” she whispers.
“You should rest,” I reply.
“Stay.”
She makes room for me on the bed; I get in with my clothes on and lay beside her.
“Aaden?” she
calls out softly in the darkness.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t tell anyone I cried, okay?”
“Okay.”
While her mother “cried” in the form of rain, Pryor cried in the form of silence. I mourned with her by not speaking. Although there was so much I wanted to say...
14
This Time
Pryor is in and out of consciousness for the next few days. Part of it is because of having been injured. But a part of it is because it’s much easier to close your eyes and pretend things are okay than to live in the real world. I’m guessing when she closes her eyes, Sam is alive and all is well. The only trouble is, sooner or later you will have to open your eyes.
When she is awake, she’s quiet. I give her updates as I get them from the team. Most of the humans are out of immediate danger, but a few are still clinging to life in ICU. I wondered if giving her updates was wise, but if it were me I would not want to be left in the dark.
The rainstorms haven’t let up. There are times when it’s stronger than others but it’s still raining. Pryor’s dad, Marcus, must be having a hard time consoling his wife, Emmy. However, I’m sure the rain will stop eventually because Marcus won’t give up until she gets better.
How long does it take to get over the death of your child?
I sit up on the bed and look out into the gloomy sky. I silently offer my condolences to Pryor’s parents. I then turn to look at their child lying beside me. And the thoughts that I had been trying to push away, now invade my mind.
Was there something I could have done to prevent Harm from getting to Sam? Would things have been better if I didn’t stay away? Did I allow The Center to turn me into a coward? Or did I do the brave thing by staying away?
I hate when I go down this road in my head. There is simply no way to know if the choices I’ve made were the right ones. All I know is staying away was the only way I could keep The Center from sending the Omari bastards after me.
I recall all the rat holes, dive bars, and back alleys I frequented after Diana and I parted ways. I didn’t fight like before or blow anything up. And except for the occasional one-night stand, I pretty much left the girls alone. I wore a black hoodie, kept my mouth shut, and faded into the background.
