Ethereal Ties

by Elara Skye

  “We need to talk about what happened,” he muttered, evading the latter half of the thought. His throat constricted from the tension; he could hear it in his voice as he struggled to keep calm.

  “Which part? Demons attacking a human, or her seeing me?”

  “Neither.” He looked at Alaric. “We need to talk about the fact that she was in the Ether.”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  “And she made herself fair game,” Finn continued. “I didn’t realize it in time.”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “So, we thought.”

  “Then how can you say that?”

  “Because it’s true.”

  Guilt gripped him. Finn suspected he knew why—it must have been one of the unknown consequences that Tobias mentioned on the night of the break-in. One of the possibilities, at least. Perhaps their closeness had blurred the lines between their worlds, wherein Finn’s involvement drew the supernatural. He should have known that someone would try to snatch it immediately—Amelia’s soul was a bright, beautiful beacon.

  “I know she saw you too,” Finn said. “Are you going to be alright around her, from now on?”

  Alaric dragged his eyes to Amelia like he was considering it. “I have no desire whatsoever to discuss this with her. She’s your problem, not mine.”

  “Right.” Finn nodded, forgiving his friend’s harshness—it wasn’t undue. “I’m sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “This isn’t something you should’ve had to deal with because of me.”

  Alaric fell silent. After a moment, Finn was glad to see his demeanor soften, though his tone didn’t stray far from the razor’s edge. “Guess I signed up for it. Remember?”

  Naturally, Alaric wasn’t referring to this night. Centuries ago, he was born among the lowest order of angels, with a stark propensity for trouble—something they shared from the start. Finn, on the other hand, was born into his higher rank. Alaric had arrived on Earth before him, and for many years following their meeting, Finn leaned heavily on his friend for guidance among the humans. Not unlike the way new angels leaned on him now.

  When once in history Alaric skirted the line of the Fallen, Finn was the one to pull him back. He was the only one who responded when he called for help, subsequently saving the life of the human that he endangered. No other angel deigned to help that night. Afterward, they were brothers for life.

  “Of course, I remember,” Finn said.

  “Alright, then we don’t need to discuss that. I’m tired as hell,” Alaric said with a huff, dragging himself out of the room. “Let me know what happens. Night.”

  “Good night,” Finn answered quietly. He heard Alaric’s bedroom door open and shut somewhere down the hall. He was understandably tired—they both were—but the night would be a long one for Finn. Amelia hadn’t so much as moved, but he was resolved to stay by her side until she did. He needed to know what she witnessed, felt, remembered, and believed. These variables, alone, were enough to keep peaceful sleep at bay.

  Finn brushed a lock hair out of Amelia’s face and covered her with a thin blanket. She left it there days ago, saying she needed the extra layer over the duvet. His body heat was not enough to keep her warm. Eventually, Finn stood and sauntered over to the window, remaining there for some time to admire the glittering skyline.

  From such a vantage point, an angel could see down to the ground, into apartments, and clear through walls. Though a considerable amount of time had passed since Finn kept such a watchful eye on the city—his senses had resultantly dulled.

  He heard a stir.

  Finn’s breath thinned as he heard the sheets shuffle a bit, paired with a weak, exasperated groan. He turned slowly, seeing Amelia shift into a seated position. Her eyes were lidded and heavy as she looked around the room, widening a bit when they landed on him. All his movements ceased the moment they locked eyes, and time seemed to drag between them—singling out each tentative jump that Amelia’s gaze made up and down his length. Finn wasn’t in the Ether, but he felt vulnerable all the same as he waited, while she roved her gaze between him and the door.

  He wouldn’t stop her leaving, even if the image cut through him like a knife.

  “What happened?” she mumbled quietly.

  His lips parted, but nothing came out. They closed again. All the words seemed to want to come out at once. Instead, they jumbled up into a ball at the back of his throat.

  “Did something happen to me?” she continued, blinking up at him. “Am I okay?”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Amelia stared at him. Judging by the way her features tensed, another thought was rising above the rest. “Where’s Alaric?”

  “He’s gone to bed.”

  “Oh...”

  Finn swallowed nervously, “Why do you ask?”

  Amelia shook her head, looking a bit dazed. “Nothing. I think I need to go home.”

  “Hold on. You just woke up.” Finn frowned as he stepped toward her. “Just wait a moment, please. Talk to me first.”

  “N-No, I can’t….”

  Her response was clipped, and the words stung. “You can’t?”

  Amelia’s soft waves curtained her face as she looked away. He wished she wouldn’t—now was the worst possible time for Finn to lose sight of her features. To lose track of what she may have been thinking.

  Finn thought he heard a noise, a whisper of a trembling voice coming from her. “I thought I saw...” she murmured. “No—I know I saw...”

  He stepped forward, relieved when she didn’t recoil. “Saw what?”

  She sighed and shook her head abruptly. As he drew closer, Finn realized that she’d begun to cry a bit. “Oh, my god, I’m losing my mind...”

  Her eyes fell to the bed, and the sentiment didn’t seem directed at him. That didn’t stop him from asking about it, “Why would you say that?”

  “It’s the only explanation.” Her eyes were brimming with tears when she looked up, gleaming in the moonlight, and there was fear in her voice—fear of the mental deterioration she genuinely thought was on the horizon. “I’m...I’m going crazy.”

  “No. You’re not.”

  “Alaric was see-through, and you were too,” she said, wincing—as though she realized how crazy that must have sounded. “How am I supposed to rationalize that?”

  It made perfect sense to Finn, serving to confirm the truth that could no longer be kept from her. Not without consequence. “You’re not losing your mind, Amelia.” Rip the band-aid off. “I just don’t know how to tell you this.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Finn hesitated.

  “What is it?” she demanded softly. “Are you going to tell me why I keep seeing things around you?”

  He blinked up at her—Amelia was seeing things? When did that start? “What do you mean?”

  “That day in your office, when I woke you up, I saw something in your eyes.” She shook her head. “I thought I was crazy, and now I’m feeling pretty sure of it.”

  “I see,” he murmured. Amelia’s eyes were keener than he had anticipated. “Maybe this should’ve come sooner, then.”

  “What should’ve come sooner?”

  “This.”

  “You know what’s happening to me, don’t you?”

  “I can tell you you’re not losing your mind.”

  “And?” Amelia was getting irritated; he could hear it in her voice.

  “And your kind calls us angels.”

  Silence.

  Her amber eyes appeared like razors from behind her hair—a hard, skeptical look. “What?”

  “We’re angels.”

  “Y-You—” she stuttered. “You’re saying right now, that you’re not—”

  “Human?” he interjected. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

  Amelia stared at him, mouth agape. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “No.”

  The disbelief was understandable. It was one thing to theoriz
e about the existence of the supernatural, and another to be confronted by it—to be in the same room as it. All her life, Amelia must have been told by some that it didn’t exist, and others that it undoubtedly did.

  Finn, on the other hand, had never felt more human than he did in that moment. He’d never been so terrified of one before—if terror was what this was—of the impending rejection that loomed, as well as the pain.

  Pain?

  Of course—fear wouldn’t cut through him like this, not without the pain of losing a loved one. The moment Finn realized this simple fact, the truth dawned on him.

  What he felt couldn’t bring pain without love. Finn was in love.

  Amelia looked him over in the meantime. “But...you don’t have wings.”

  There’s the headline.

  Finn let out a chuckle, left breathless by his newfound clarity. “No, we don’t. Though I suppose it might look it, a bit.”

  “Angel...what the fuck?” Amelia whispered, then threw her hand up to her mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—” She gasped again. “Shit, I’m sorry!”

  What was she apologizing for?

  It was subtle, but Finn could see her chest heaving a bit more easily. Amelia neither cried nor ran, which were the reactions he was expecting. He stilled as Amelia suddenly crawled out from under the sheets, rising to her knees as she scanned him carefully. She finally inched off the bed, and Finn hardly dared to move as she stepped toward him reluctantly. He stayed still, for fear of frightening her, but was relieved to see that Amelia didn’t seem afraid of him by default.

  She was close enough now for him to feel her breath. “Show me.”

  Show her? “What do you—”

  “Show. Me.”

  “Oh.” He understood. “Amelia, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Too much at once can be—” She interjected with a flat stare. “Yeah. Okay.”

  His movements were tentative as he stepped back from her. In the meantime, Amelia watched him tentatively, tracking every move he made. In the gentle depths of her eyes, he saw it—the faintest glimmer of affection, that cared for him and wasn’t afraid—but it was overrun by disbelief. Inch by inch, Finn faded into the Ether, wisps of light and smoke blowing off his shoulders, painting swaths of moonlight that had no reflection.

  With a sharp gasp, Amelia jumped back from him. It was an understandable reaction, though it stung, nonetheless. Finn straightened to his full height and waited, apprehension coiling painfully in his stomach. Amelia backed away until she hit the edge of the bed and plopped down onto it. The initial shock abated quickly, but the silence grew dense between them in its place.

  She asked, “W-When were you going to tell me?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. Confusion swept over her features when she heard it—to the human ear, a voice from Ether was nothing but an echo. “Should I have assumed that you could live with this? Knowing what I am?”

  Amelia watched as he withdrew from the Ether. “What happened to me tonight—was that because of you?”

  Finn hesitated. “It was, and it wasn’t,” he answered truthfully. “You wandered into a place called the Ether, and something caught wind of you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t ask me what it was. You don’t want to know. Humans are safe when you stick to your own realm. This only happened because you crossed over.”

  “Crossed over where?”

  “Into the spirit realm. That’s what your kind has learned to call it.”

  “Are there monsters, or something?”

  “Or something,” he said. “You have a bright soul, that drew their attention. I noticed it too, the night we met…it’s quite remarkable.”

  The night we met?” Amelia looked like she recalled something. “Is that why you were looking at me like that? I thought you were sizing me up.”

  “No. Just admiring.”

  “And…is this going to happen to me again?”

  “We can ensure that it won’t.”

  “How?”

  “Now that you’re conscious of it, I believe it won’t happen accidentally anymore. The intent is the driving force in most cases,” Finn said. “And now you know.”

  “N-Now I know...” she repeated, sinking back into her thoughts.

  “I’m sorry, Amelia.” She looked up sullenly. “I know this must be frightening. You can go wherever you want to think about things; there’s only one thing I’ll ask you to do for me.”

  “What is it?”

  Finn dragged his feet around the bed, opening a drawer where Amelia kept some of her things. He pulled a silver chain out from inside. It chinked between his fingers as he let the pendant fall, watching her eyes narrow with recognition.

  “Take whatever time you need to think about things. I wouldn’t blame you if you chose to leave—me behind.” Finn swallowed thickly. “But please, wear this. Or keep it near you, at least.”

  Her chest rose and fell as she looked at it. “My mom’s necklace?”

  “I blessed it the day we went to the museum. You weren’t wearing it tonight, but I believe it would’ve helped. Please wear it now. You’ll have my protection wherever you go.”

  Amelia met his eyes from where she sat, fingers brushing against his as she took it from him. “It’s that simple?”

  “No,” he said. “Nothing about this is simple.”

  Amelia said nothing, merely stared. On that problematic note, Finn turned to leave, without so much as a stir willing him to stop.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The apartment was empty the following day.

  Sometime around midday, Amelia sauntered out of Finn’s bedroom. He left her there the night before, perhaps thinking she’d go home, but Amelia opted to stay—she had no desire to go back into the night on her own. Nevertheless, she didn’t get any sleep until the early hours of the morning, when her body demanded it. Not wanting to talk about what happened, she kept to herself when she awoke again, remaining holed up under the sheets. After a while, hunger and bathroom needs finally drove her out of bed.

  Silence filled the space, sunlight warming her skin as she inched toward the living room. The endeavor felt stranger than usual, as though knowing Finn and Alaric on a deeper level had somehow inspired her to see their home with different eyes. The subjects in question were angels, living here like ordinary people. Like they were perfectly normal human beings, occupying a space where they could sleep, eat, and—

  Color prickled her cheeks.

  Amelia hadn’t come to grips with the nature of her relationship with Finn—whatever that was before this happened—and she avoided thinking about that aspect of it the most. The idea of intimacy with someone—something—like him would take time to adjust to, if it could be done at all. The idea was just too foreign, too far from anything she might’ve imagined if she were merely fantasizing about such a thing. Fantasies weren’t supposed to be real.

  As for the matter at hand, her endeavor into the living room continued to feel strange. There was none of the usual smell of coffee, which saddened her a bit. Amelia surmised that they must have picked it up on their way to work, which was something she would also need to consider soon. Life went on, and she had a shift to get to later that night.

  Her hair was still a mess from the night before, streaming down her shoulders in loose waves. After a thorough shower—possibly her last in this place—and a lunchtime bite, she looked and felt more presentable for work. When she entered the restaurant doors, no one seemed to notice the dramatic slow-down in her energy levels. She alone felt them follow her from the apartment. Save for Jesse, as it turned out—he’d proven himself to be the observant one on more than a few occasions. And over the past few weeks, they’d become fast friends, so it didn’t bother her much.

  As usual, their shifts overlapped. It often replaced Jack’s nowadays, since Jesse’s training was virtually complete, and he was already at work when she arrived. There was a lull in the crowd as she dragged her
feet around the counter, trying not to sulk, but Amelia didn’t realize that it still showed until she saw the quizzical look in Jesse’s eye. After that, she straightened up. Afterward, what began with an acknowledging grunt at the start of their shift ended with a conversation.

  “Sounds like you’ve had a shitty couple of weeks,” Jesse said, munching on a curly fry at the bar, while she gave him a rundown of the events. “Sorry you and your boyfriend fought too.”

  “We never really talked about what we were to each other, but thanks,” she said as she stared down at her cocktail, half-drunk, and slid it back and forth between her hands. “I didn’t think people could surprise me anymore.”

  “I don’t think you’re old enough to be saying things like that, to be honest.”

  She shrugged. “Go enough places, meet enough people, hear enough stories, you’ll start feeling that way eventually. Even if you’re young.”

  “I think it’s all about learning new things,” he continued. “I learned to mix some pretty good drinks from you.”

  “That’s different, but I know where you’re coming from.”

  Not that Jesse knew that, of course. He learned how to work on a slight buzz. Amelia discovered the existence of the supernatural. The line between the two was far from narrow.

  “I honestly doubt it’s that different.” He gave her a dubious look. “How bad could it be? Does he eat cat food in his free time or something?”

  Amelia pressed her lips together. In truth, it was inordinately difficult to navigate the conversation without disclosing the facts. As far as Jesse knew, Amelia discovered something about Finn that she was having trouble coming to terms with—something that could not be accepted readily—but she refused to tell him the truth.

  Cat food, though? Amelia chuckled. “No, it’s a little more serious than that. It puts a lot of things into a perspective that I’m not as comfortable with as you might think. It honestly scares me a little.”

  “...so, mafia?”

  She paused. “You know, what? That’s close enough.”

  “It’d be easier if you just told me.”

  “Trust me. It wouldn’t.” She still had trouble comprehending it herself, much less explaining to someone else.