An Angel's Touch

by Susan D. Kalior

  “johnny!” she screamed. Her attempt to hang on to my neck was as useless as water trying not to drip. I tried to grab her before she got too far away, but the Halkodama thrashed my chest, cutting through my tee shirt and skin, dangerously near my heart.

  Jen was going down, arms and legs flailing, black pumps flying off her feet, and bits of lei blustering in the air. I should have taught her how to fly. Shens can do that. I had to catch her. Transcending time and space had its advantages. I hissed white fire upon the Halkodama to delete future interference, but when the flames cleared, he was down below treading air, holding Jen’s back against his chest with his spindly arms. He was smaller than she. I was surprised he could hold her. Of course, it helped that she was clutching his hairy little wrists.

  The blood from my chest fell through the air, hitting the Halkodama on the head. Little fucker. I raced down after them, preferring they touch ground before I pried her from his grasp. Almost there, she went limp, pretending all this wasn’t happening. My Jen. I knew her well.

  He flew her toward a small, deep hole in a red rock wall. Damn. I couldn’t believe a simple Halkodama had taken her from me. A Halkodama had on no account attacked me before. I caught up just as it landed on the red sand ground and stuffed Jen in the hole.

  As I landed, my upper arm was falling away from the bone, a pretty sight, if not on me. Tazmarkian blood thickens and clots when contacting air, more so than humans, so blood wasn’t gushing, just flowing like lava down my forearm. I manifested a gauze bandage wrapped around my arm, covering the foot long slash. My chest had clotted well, so I didn’t bother with a bandage. I didn’t feel much pain. The Halkodama would.

  I stepped up to the little fiend, seething. “You dare challenge me?”

  The Halkodama spun around to face me.

  Behind him, I could see Jen curled in a ball hugging her stomach, breathing heavy, and in shock. I didn’t feel so great myself.

  The Halkodama wheezed, slithering spit over his lips, and in his native tongue, said, “Lord Diego, King of the sixth realm, gave . . . gave . . . gave me permission to have . . . have . . . have her for a meal. He said you weren’t . . . weren’t making proper use of her.”

  I glared hard at the pathetic little demon. Damn Diego. What more did he want? I’d just enabled her to pacify an enraged human. Wasn’t that worth something?

  Jen’s desperate, pleading gaze embraced me, even in my vampirical sixth realm form. A full-blown gaze as such with me in this form, had never been done. But here it was. I could give her the illusion of my third realm appearance, but I didn’t want to. She must accept me as I am. She must.

  She was panting severely. I wanted to comfort her, but first things first. The wretched little fiend must die.

  Knowing that scene would be too much for Jen right now, I encased her in a black sac of soundproof, sight proof particles.

  I narrowed my eyes at the Halkodama. “You have made a fatal error.”

  The Halkodama in his language spoke, “Lord Diego said he’d protect me from you.”

  “Lord Diego lied.” I was hoping Diego lied. Just another way of urging me to speed up Jen’s training. No matter, this Halkodama wasn’t going to eat Jen for supper.

  His green eyes whirled, as if hypnosis would work on me. Yeah right.

  “Eetz Itze!” She’s mine, he declared.

  I paralyzed him.

  “Ah oh,” he said.

  I pushed my face way down to his. “We’ll see who has who for a meal.”

  In the sixth realm, I could kill as a Tazmark without transmogrification. I had fangs and claws. I was monster here—always.

  “Atz Ontzo,” the Halkodama called shrilly through paralyzed lips. Atz Ontzo, that was Lord Diego in Halkodamish.

  Before he could call again, with my good arm, I grabbed the little fucker’s ribcage. I lifted him to my face, and drove my fangs into his neck. I slurped his meager blood. When his spirit started to fly away, I lifted my head and sucked it into my being. I hadn’t taken time to notice if he ‘called’ or not, but guess he had, or his spirit would have escaped.

  In the mood for my favorite organ, I slammed his body to the ground, and yanked out his pumper. Blood stormed the air in a red shower. Mmm, that kind of rain, I liked. I gorged upon the tiny pumper. Finally, a meal bigger than a mouse. Well, a little.

  Diego knew a Halkodama was no match for me. The Halkodama’s attack was most definitely a memo to me to empower Jen, fully and fast. Why the rush?

  I magically thought the blood off me and hissed fire over the Halkodama’s remains, turning it to ash.

  I dissipated the black sac surrounding Jen. She was still curled in a ball, but with her head buried in her knees. “I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming.”

  I knelt to her. “Jen?”

  “I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming.”

  I touched her knee. “Jen?”

  “I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming.”

  “I need you to heal me, Jen.”

  She looked up at me and blinked in a stupor. “Heal you?”

  The word ‘heal’ always drew a Shen’s attention. I hoped she could heal me when in a stupor.

  “I need you to heal me so I can carry you out of here. My arm is split open, and my chest needs repair.”

  She nodded, and let me guide her out of the hole. Standing in front of me, her hands hovered over my arm, emanating the blue light of personal love. I made the bandage vanish so she could see what she was working with. My arm healed slowly before my eyes. My chest took longer. After four or five minutes, the skin closed and my energy increased. Comes in handy, having a Shen around. Yet, I wouldn’t need one, if she wasn’t in my life. All my injuries were in some way related to her, from her, or for her.

  “Better?” she asked in a monotone voice.

  “Better,” I said.

  I slipped my arm under her knees and the other around her back and lifted. She still trembled, and I now regretted bringing her here, definitely not the way to romance a Shen. We flew to the rind of the sixth realm to distance ourselves from its creatures. If we were in the seventh realm, we’d go into the pulp to find that distance. Of course, the seventh realm would kill me. Even so, I knew most Shen secrets. Harboring even one Shen spirit lent much information. Diego may have to twiddle his thumbs to kingdom come waiting for me to educate Jen about the seventh realm. The key for her to escape me would come only after I’d attained her unconditional love.

  I flew us back to flower cart alley in the third realm, and set her feet down on the black street giving viewers rise to question their sanity. She looked up at me and blinked, still in shock. “I know that wasn’t a dream, johnny. Please don’t ever take me there again.”

  “It’s off our itinerary,” I said.

  She looked down at her bare feet. “I have no shoes.”

  I manifested black pumps on her feet.

  She gasped. “They look just like the ones I lost.”

  I said, “They are the ones you lost.”

  “Geez, you can manifest objects from one realm to another?”

  “As long as the objects are not alive.”

  “Thank you for not stealing new shoes.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, a bit irritated. But I kissed her trembling lips anyway, took her trembling hand, and walked her trembling body back toward the main street. My captivity and marathon nap left me with a great need to exercise. She hugged my arm as if it were a nanny, walking way slower than I preferred.

  When we rounded the corner, a huge crowd had gathered around the artist who had painted her. A man passed by, staring down at the rough chalk sketch clutched in his hands. Across the street, a woman did the same. Then, I noticed the street was peppered with people staring down at their drawings.

  Jen lifted her head, and viewed the scene. “What’s going on?”

  “These people all want sketches of you. It’s like having their personal Angel.”


  “No,” Jen said, shaking her head, “that’s not true.”

  People began to recognize her as the model, and one by one gathered around her—secretly wishing, wanting, and needing her.

  I said, “You think not?”

  “I’m getting dizzy, johnny.”

  The people were siphoning her energy with their wants and needs.

  Her knees buckled. “johnny . . .” She fainted. I caught her, and repelled the people with my evil aura. I carried her back to the hotel, enjoying the stretch in my muscles. I carried her up the stairs, willing people to not see us. I opened the door magically, took her inside, and laid her on the great big bed. Her knees rolled to one side accentuating her stomach under the tight black dress. I leaned down and kissed her womb, a display of affection, not for the babies, but a kiss of hope that the birthing process wouldn’t kill her. I wasn’t going to linger on that anxiety-evoking thought, nor any that aroused such emotion.

  Jen would be out for a bit, replenishing the energy she’d lost. This was a good time for me to exercise. I liked weight lifting, not that I needed the strength, but sensations came with challenging my muscles.

  At the foot of the bed, I manifested a bench press with barbell and weights. I magically added a thousand pounds to the weights. The hotel spa could do without it for a few minutes. I normally cleared the area of people before borrowing something, but no one was in the spa. I cast a spell repelling people from the idea of working out with weights, giving them the urge to swim instead.

  I commenced my workout. Bench press one. I daydreamed of getting down and dirty like I used to, more bombs, fires, earthquakes, and wars. Bench press two. I’d work some events to cause an international riot. The Middle East was another tasty morsel waiting to explode. Bench press four. I started breathing hard, excited by my ideas. These blood calls had been brewing for some time. The louder the call, the grander the payoff, and the calls were getting thunderous. Bench press five. My eyes started dilating and I had to will my body not to transmogrify into the dragonman. Bench press six.

  Before I could bench press seven, Diego appeared, hovering over me in mid air in the sixth realm, clairvoyantly peeking at me as I clairvoyantly peeked back at him.

  He said telepathically, “You scheme, but you will actualize none of it while in the glow of love, my son. You grow weaker and weaker, despite your triumph in Russia.”

  “No thanks to you,” I murmured. I rested the barbells on the rack and sat up.

  Diego’s body turned upright with mine. As I stood, he manifested into the third realm, his feet touching the carpet. I manifested the bench press back to the hotel spa and walked out of the bedroom to lead him away from Jen, really not wanting her to awaken with Diego present.

  Diego followed, saying, “If I did not weaken you by stealing half your spirit catch, you would have fed off them for months without creating incident. You no longer destroy for thrills, though you still thrill in destroying. You are motivated by survival instinct instead of lust. That makes you puny.”

  I looked over my shoulder and scowled. Puny. I didn’t relish the word. How dare he call the Prince of Darkness—puny. I reached the table and manifested a bottle of opened scotch. With my back to him, I slouched in the chair, foot propped against the table's edge, guzzling my liquor.

  He stood behind me, continuing his insipid speech. “Detach from the Shen. Then you could lead the U.S. into World War Three. Or you could play with the Middle East. More importantly, if you detach from the Shen, you can train her faster and harder. There is not much time.”

  I turned around to ask him what the big deal was with training Jen at the speed of light, but he was gone.

  Jen stirred. “johnny?”

  I set the bottle down and walked over to her on the bed.

  She sat up and rubbed her temples, searching around the bedroom as if to assess her location. “What happened?”

  I climbed on the bed hovering over her a bit, my hair caving her face. “You fainted. I brought you back to the hotel.”

  I laid next to her on my side and pulled her back against my chest, tucking her quite comfortably into the nest of my body. I rested my hand over her womb, thinking of the twins. They were another reason she’d fainted so quickly. Her body was changing faster than normal, for she did not carry normal babies, not likely anyway. Tazmarks birth in six months, Shens seven. If they were a bit of both, maybe six and a half months. Who knows? Who could? Perhaps a fresh breed would emerge on earth, marking a new age where dark and light would sometimes blend, instead of always conflicting.

  “johnny?” she said, “I’m concerned about something.” She’d heard the whispering of my thoughts, thinking they were hers. She didn’t realize she was developing the power to read my mind. “I missed my . . . you know—”

  “You’re pregnant,” I blurted, reading hers. I decided to not tell her it was twins.

  “What?” she bolted upright, and turned on her knees to face me. “But I thought . . . ”

  I sat up and faced her. “It happened after we got out of the hospital, after Randa left, that night under the stars. Remember?”

  She was staring at me with mouth ajar. Then she said, “How could you know if I’m—?”

  “I just do. Part of me is growing in you.”

  Her breath quickened. “But this isn’t your fertile time. This is not the sixth summer—”

  “It actually is.”

  She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Then she clutched her palms over her chest. “Oh, how could you do this to me!”

  “I wanted you pregnant.”

  “But—but . . . ” she stopped cold, staring at me as if her mind had gone blank. I watched the rise and fall of her chest, words failing her. She was speechless and I’d only told her the least of our problems. She shook her head as if trying to deny the truth. Finally, her words barked, “You’ve done a sinful thing!”

  “I am a sinner, Jen. You know that.”

  “But you’ve done a sinful thing to me, and that is something you promised you’d never do.”

  “Impregnating you is a sin?”

  She shook her head. “I trusted you!”

  “You can trust me not to kill you. You can trust me to love you. That’s all.”

  She gulped, breathing harder. “You don’t love me. Love—”

  Here we go again, her speech on love.

  A knock at the door stopped her. Saved by the knock. Except, the owner of the knock was worse than Jen’s love speech. Angel Boy had arrived. I could smell his syrupy energy on the other side of the door.

  Jen slid off the bed and gazed at me. Shock had returned to her eyes. She said with soft hope, “I . . . I bet that’s André.” Had she spoken in that manner to spite me? She should know better.

  She wandered to the door, slower than she wanted, but faster than she should have. I would allow the Shen to enter, only so I could see the look on his face when I frightened him away. Two Shens together. Now that was a dangerous thing.

  When she opened the door, there he stood, lean, tall, and proper in blue jeans, a white tailored shirt, and . . . loafers. The smell of his French cologne wafted into the room. He stepped inside and hugged her briskly. When he withdrew, his hands still clasped her shoulders. “I tried calling the number you gave me, but there was never an answer.”

  Mr. Nice Guy. Nice guy voice. Nice guy words. Just what Jen wanted. Nice. I smiled, glad that I’d killed the phone during my long sleep. I climbed off the bed, and walked toward them.

  She stared at him affectionately without reply.

  He said, “We need to make plans to go to Russia.”

  She nodded in a stupor, as if she’d not heard him, though she beheld his essence.

  I arrived by Jen’s side and glared at Angel Boy with his high cheekbones and French-brown eyes. I said, “She isn’t going.”

  He took a step back, his hands falling from her arms.

  She stepped forward as if to say, don’t retreat.<
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  Angel Boy glanced at me, then her. He touched her cheek. “You look pale. Are you okay?”

  She nodded, putting her hand on his. If she was testing me, she wasn’t as intelligent as I thought. I was in no mood for games. And she should know by now that I would win.

  Angel Boy lowered his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Is your boyfriend okay?”

  “He’ll be all right,” she whispered back.

  People’s thoughts sounded like whispers to me, and their whispers like normal speech.

  “Are you sure?” he said to her in a hush.

  “Yesss.” I answered.

  He gave her an are you okay with your boyfriend look.

  “I’m pregnant, André. I just found out.”

  I rolled my eyes. Leave it to a Shen to blab the truth excessively and unnecessarily.

  “Congratulations, Jenséa!” he said embracing her again.

  She hugged him back. When he pulled away, she didn’t release him. I read her mind. She craved his comfort, and required his light. She needed something I couldn’t give her. She wept in his arms, tightening her grasp as if she’d never let him go.

  Angel Boy said, “Do you want to go for a walk?”

  I snapped, “She doesn’t. However you can—now.”

  “Do you want to talk?” he whispered in her ear.

  I grabbed Jen’s arm and swung her behind me. “I’m the one with whom she needs to talk.”

  I glanced over my shoulder. Her fretful expression was warranted.

  Angel Boy looked past me to Jen. “Come take a walk with me, Jenséa.”

  “She’s fine,” I said, thinking about how delicious his pumper would taste when I ate him. I stepped forward, edging the good little boy backward into the hall, with his good little boy brown loafers obeying his cowardly retreat, and his good little boy palm rubbing his hip nervously, up and down, up and down. His fear was my candy.

  “You can’t keep her here if she doesn’t want to stay,” he said uneasily, trying to be gallant, but not tough enough to actually pull it off.

  His stomach was storming. I could almost taste the acid on my tongue.

  “It’s okay, André,” Jen said meekly, from far behind me. “I’ll be all right.”