by Carol Oates
“No.” She shook her head again. “You didn’t need me. You needed to go home. I couldn’t give you that, and I couldn’t stay.” Her voice hitched. “But I won’t let you punish me by hurting her.”
Her accusation was a swift kick to his ribs. Sebastian eyes widened and flickered between Ambriel’s. His heart punched through his chest with the force of a jackhammer, and the hairs on the back of his neck rose. The wind around them picked up, blusterous gusts whipping her hair around her face until finally, she blinked, breaking their standoff.
Sebastian spun away from her, dragging his fingers through his hair roughly. His boots slid easily on the damp grass squelching under his feet at the edge of the pathway. He would give Ambriel anything to get back to where they had been, anything except what he guessed she was about to ask of him. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to walk away.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back to face the sky as tiny droplets began to fall. If only it could wash my hands clean. “I can’t do that. She chose me.”
Ambriel’s dark laughter twinkled in the crisp air, taunting him with its lithe tones.
He opened his eyes and turned, caught unprepared for the pitying glint in her brown eyes or the way they crinkled with mirth. Was she mocking him? He scowled, clenching and unclenching his hands until she reached out to him and squeezed his fingers. His shoulders locked, and his spine straightened. Tingles flooded the tissue of his back, and every muscle in his body strained to relax, but adrenaline kept them tensed. He was a ball of elastic, flexing and stretching, ready for fight or flight. He sensed something grave was about to occur between them.
“That’s just it though, Sebastian. She didn’t choose you.”
He hastened to jerk his hand out of her solid grip, but there seemed to be some disconnect between his brain and his hand. All he managed was a feeble tug, which she resisted.
“She chose Draven,” Ambriel continued, either ignorant to his pain or disregarding it completely. “If Draven hadn’t set up his charade as a way of creating a dialogue between the sides, if his offer to lie wasn’t a ploy, she would be with him right now.”
“She only chose him to prevent a war.”
Ambriel slanted her head a little, and raindrops trickled over her jaw and down her slender neck. “Really, you are sure? You are positive she isn’t the slightest bit attracted to him? You don’t think she would fall for someone like him if you were not in the way?”
“Why are you saying this to me?” He wrenched his hand away and rubbed at his palm as if her touch had scarred him right down to the bone.
The rain grew steadily worse, and Ambriel’s hair began to stick to her face. She pushed dark strands out of the way, fighting against the wind. “Because it’s true, and I’m trying to show that you are not her only possibility. Believe me, I wouldn’t want her with him either. I need to protect her and—”
“From me?” Sebastian demanded incredulously, although his shaky voice betrayed his anger and sorrow. “I. Love. Her.” Cold rain beat down on them now, soaking their clothes and drenching Sebastian’s face. He tasted it on his tongue when he spoke, laced with pollution from the atmosphere, and batted moisture out of his eyes.
Ambriel frowned. Black rivulets spilled from her eyes. He supposed they could be tears. He hoped her judgment of him injured her as much as it did him. She didn’t trust him. She didn’t believe he’d changed.
“I’m trying to protect you both. If you love her, you will end this now.”
Sebastian was struck dumb. He knew Ambriel disapproved of the way he felt about Candra. He’d presumed it would take some time to talk her around, but he’d never expected this. His body reacted with both the familiar and unfamiliar responses. His wings tore through the fabric of his shirt and jacket—his favorite faded leather jacket—and cast Brie in a dark shadow, as if a gauzy shroud dropped across his eyes. Violent shudders surged through his abruptly icy body, and pins and needles prickled in his fingers and toes.
“Your love will ruin her, Sebastian. You have to walk away now because she doesn’t have the sense to see destruction when it stares her right in the face. She will stay by your side until death rips you apart. What do you think the future will be like for her? Huh? Have you even thought of that? If we actually make it to the future, you won’t age, and she will. She will grow old, and you will always be this.”
Ambriel reached across the space hesitantly, placing her hand lightly on his chest. She blinked away the rain and sniffled, her hair now mattered to her face and her fingers red from cold.
The truth was Sebastian hadn’t planned for the future when he’d fallen in love. There was no contingency plan. Truth could do that, slapping a person in the face when they were least expecting it. He had to consider it now: maybe he was simply holding onto a dream, and they were already on borrowed time, no matter what happened.
A sound escaped his lips, unlike any sound ever heard around the great city. Somewhere between a growl and a bellow of anguish, the noise was so atrocious, it shook birds from the bushes surrounding the park. They scattered to the air, screeching in empathy with the wounded animal crying out.
Sebastian’s shoulders slumped in defeat, although his wings remained outstretched, twice as wide as he was tall. He thought of Candra now and saw the old woman she would become, should they make it that far. Her silver hair flowing in a cascade of waves around her shoulders, the skin on her face and neck inevitably loosened and lacking radiance, becoming papery. Her brown eyes would fade over time, turning more gold, and the sleek muscles of her body, which he couldn’t seem to keep from exploring now, would eventually grow feeble. Then he saw himself standing by her side, still young…forever young and unable to share that with her. Would she hate him for it? When uncompromising time ravaged her body, would she still want him around as a reminder of the youth that had abandoned her?
Ambriel moved away to place the coffee she had been holding on the rock beside his, the cups side by side as they had once been. The relentless downpour formed large puddles around them and worked to partially drown out the noise of the city beyond the park. She returned to him, sloshing through the puddles and tenderly placed her hand on his cheek. Sebastian unconsciously leaned into her touch when she smoothed her thumb across his skin. Her other hand came up to cup his face, and she met his eyes with compassion and pity. Water dripped from their clothes, and their warm breath mingled as smoky vapors, quickly dissipating in the wind.
“Look at you, my precious brother. You shine brighter than the sun, but you rage against yourself harder than any other I’ve ever known. You are magnificent and beautiful; you would blind any young woman. How could she not fall in love?”
Sebastian jerked away. It seemed an insurmountable task to reel in his emotions, but he did it. He swallowed down every word he wanted to speak in agreement and mentally stomped down the part of him that wanted to beg for mercy, knowing Ambriel wouldn’t want him to. It would be easy to fall at her feet, but how would that prove he was capable of doing what needed to be done? With his back turned to Ambriel, Sebastian took in several deep, calming breaths and allowed his wings to fade.
“No. You are wrong this time.” He spun to face her again, rolled his shoulders back and dragged his fingers through his hair. The rain had soaked clean through to his skin, surrounding him in an icy cocoon. “I’ve changed. She changed me. I know I let you and Payne down, and I’m sorry. I know I can make her happy, Ambriel.”
Ambriel blinked rapidly and wiped under her eyes. “Did you just admit you were wrong and apologize?”
Chapter Eight
OVER THE COURSE OF THE FOLLOWING DAYS, the city remained deceptively lulled. No sudden war erupted; the world didn’t stop turning. Lilith kept her head down—so far down, in fact, that neither the Nuhra nor the Tenebras could locate her. Sebastian promised they would keep looking, but Candra became more or less resigned to the belief that Lilith would only show up whe
n she was good and ready.
True to his word, Sebastian imparted what he’d learned from Draven the night of the ball. Some, she knew, like the war for supremacy in heaven. He told her about the nightmare visions her father’d had before and after her birth, about how Payne had turned to Draven to protect her from Sebastian. Still, she was no clearer on her role, other than Draven manipulating Sebastian into falling in love with her and joining forces with him. Candra had no idea what would become of her when she had served her purpose.
Her mother had no family, so she had no human relatives, but part of her was human regardless. Certain realities bound her as a human…certain limitations and hopes. However, as part angel too, the information coming her way lately was more and more often bad news and disturbing truths. The human in her wanted to believe in another world, something beyond her imagining. The angel in her knew it would never be heaven without those she loved there. Candra floundered somewhere between hope and misery, between grief and acceptance, reluctant to move one way or the other and waiting for the future to happen.
“Don’t listen to them,” Lofi whispered into her ear, leaning closer as they made their way to their seats in the school auditorium.
“I’m trying. They don’t have a clue what they’re talking about.”
“That’s my girl.” Lofi smiled encouragingly.
Candra did her level best to ignore the few sympathetic glances sent in her direction. The whispers others tried to cover with their hands were so blatant, they could have screamed them as she passed. Ivy was the first student in Saint Francis to fall foul of the crime wave sweeping the city right up to Lilith’s appearance. No one at Saint Francis had died while in attendance in over two decades, something of a record for any school in Acheron.
They knew death, of course. A few of the students had lost parents, grandparents, or others in their extended family. They had never grieved one of their own, never a peer that brought home the unembellished realism of their mortality to them. Candra found that, rather than being universally empathetic for her loss and theirs, many turned brutal. They gossiped about how Ivy had died, saying neither she nor Candra were as innocent as they would have people believe. The latest rumors only went to reinforce Ivy’s rather dubious and utterly false reputation as a party girl with too many boyfriends.
Ivy’s memorial…the concept seemed bizarre to Candra seeing as, for all intents and purposes, Ivy was still very much among the living. They sat in silence as other students continued to shuffle into their seats all around them.
The auditorium was a vast space, built during a time when students had packed every class in the college to capacity. Now the attending students barely filled three quarters of the wooden seats set out for assemblies and removed so the hall could double as a gym. The dark wood ceiling and walls reached at least seventy feet high. Arched windows near the top allowed light to spill in from outside, although sheets of chicken wire protected them from gym activities.
A solemn-looking Father Patrick emerged first from behind the blue velvet drapes at the side of the stage, the epitome of a bereaved educator. It had been set up with chairs placed in a semi-circle and a stand with a microphone in the center. Father Patrick stood off to the side and shuffled small sheets of papers in his hands while a procession of other faculty made their way to seats. Candra was pleased to see at least a few of them showed genuine distress at the situation.
She turned to glare over her shoulder at the arrival of a couple of the uptown girls who had always given Ivy a hard time. They struggled to keep their inane giggling at a semi-respectable level. Lofi gasped, and Candra spun in her seat so fast, her loose hair whipped around lashing Lofi in the face.
“No,” Candra ground out, horrified and through gritted teeth.
Lofi grabbed on to her arm to hold her there. Candra was instantly grateful for Lofi’s presence. She wasn’t sure she could be held responsible for her actions. At least she could count on Lofi to help her make a quick recovery when she tried to launch herself at the dark-haired woman now shaking hands with Father Patrick.
Lilith’s demure smile matched her outfit, a long gray pencil skirt that ended mid-calf, paired with low pumps and a black fitted blouse. Delicate rimless glasses perched on her slender nose. She completed the look with her silky hair pulled away from her face in a knot at the nape of her neck.
“What is…wha…I can’t even…” Candra’s shock at the impudence Lilith displayed prevented her from forming anything close to a coherent sentence.
“I don’t know,” Lofi said in a hushed whisper. She slipped her phone from her pocket with one hand and very quickly tapped a few keys while the other kept Candra in place. “She won’t cause a scene with so many witnesses, and she knows we would never endanger all these kids.”
Candra’s eyes darted to Lofi’s face and realized she was waiting for some reaction. She understood then that Lofi was measuring her composure. She wasn’t only stating that Lilith wouldn’t try anything here, but she was pointing out that neither should they.
Lilith nodded to Father Patrick and turned. A beam of light from one of the windows above caught something around her neck and twinkled, causing Candra to squint for a fraction of a second. When Lilith took her seat, Candra saw what it was, or at least what she thought it was. It was impossible to know without closer inspection, and Candra wasn’t that curious. A high-pitched squeak, vaguely passing for an incredulous chuckle escaped her throat. If she had sat farther back, she wouldn’t have noticed it at all. If she had sat farther back, they may well have slipped out virtually unseen.
But no, Candra had insisted on sitting front and center so no one else could. She’d refused to stand by and let one of those girls who would have relished making Ivy’s life miserable, if Candra had allowed them, pretend to be suffering a loss. So now, that meant spending forty-five minutes less than fifteen feet from the creature who’d hijacked Ivy’s soul. It was the same creature sitting at Ivy’s memorial with, of all things, what looked like a golden angel pendant around her neck.
Suddenly, Candra’s brain felt as if the oxygen had been sucked from the auditorium. She swayed, and her eyes rolled in her head, sure she was about to pass out…or maybe vomit over the unsuspecting students around her.
Lofi quickly pulled out her phone and glanced at it. “Sebastian says to stay put. He agrees with me. She won’t try anything here.”
“Why is that?” Candra hissed under her breath. “Does she really care so much about witnesses? Isn’t here as good as any place?”
“It’s blessed ground,” Lofi whispered back. “The entire school is built on it. It’s probably the reason Brie sent you here in the first place. While we are inside, it provides a certain degree of protection.”
“Blessed?”
“A sort of shield. It’s like the one that kept us from finding you for eighteen years, but this one gives protection. She can’t hurt you here.”
“So, angel voodoo?”
“Exactly.” Lofi nodded.
Father Patrick had begun to speak, but Candra couldn’t process one word he uttered.
“So then why the leech impression if I’ve always been safe inside here?”
The first prayer began, making it easier to speak without drawing attention to themselves.
“Sebastian,” Lofi sighed.
Candra angled her head, waiting for a more in-depth explanation.
“He’s obsessively overprotective of the girl he loves; didn’t you get the memo?” Lofi raised an eyebrow, and the corner of her lips twitched.
Given the situation, Candra was grateful for his overprotective tendencies. She appreciated Lofi’s presence in her life now more than ever. She was fast becoming the closest thing to a real friend Candra had left.
“He’s sending someone to meet us after, and there will be plenty of others around. You will be perfectly safe.”
Lilith caught Candra’s eye and gave her an almost indiscernible nod of recognition. Cand
ra swallowed the bile inching its way up her esophagus while Father Patrick began to call the lecturers of Ivy’s classes to speak to the crowded room.
“Why isn’t Sebastian coming himself?” Candra asked, confused.
“D’know.” Lofi shrugged and caught the stern gaze of Father Patrick from the stage.
Lofi frowned and dabbed away a nonexistent tear from the corner of her eye, instantly causing him to soften his gaze. Just like Sebastian with any women he met, Lofi could wrap any man around her little finger. Candra waited until he was looking away again and leaned into Lofi’s side.
“I want this over. I want my life back. If she thinks she can waltz in here and take over, she has a harsh lesson coming her way.” Candra quickly realized this was probably the kick she needed to wake her from the self-pitying stupor she’d been walking around in. The time had come to take herself in hand.
Lofi bumped Candra’s shoulder to indicate her support. Lilith caught Candra’s gaze again, and this time, Candra held it and glared right back in what felt like an endless game of chicken: first to look away loses.
A quiet muttering broke out among the crowd around her, and still Candra refused to look away. Lilith gave in, leaving Candra to gloat internally at the small victory. It wasn’t much, but it was a warning to Lilith that she wouldn’t give any ground easily, and she wouldn’t give up without a fight. Acheron would not bow to Lilith or anyone. Candra had come too far, and they had all sacrificed too much. She needed to find out for herself if this was it. Was the beautiful woman on stage her nemesis, or was something else coming her way? There were too many details missing from the equation. If she wasn’t the threat, she was certainly a factor in the danger.
Lilith stood, smiling graciously toward Father Patrick and the rest of the faculty, and then finally at the students.
“Guidance counselor,” Lofi scoffed. “We should have expected as much.”
Candra blinked her dry eyes, wondering what she had missed during their standoff. “Why?”
