by Elise Marion
There was another image saved in his phone—a selfie he’d taken of the two of them on that same day. He hated looking at the photo … not because it hurt to see his sister, but because he couldn’t come to terms with who he had become. The man from that picture had seen his share of pain and loss, but still knew how to find the good here and there. He’d had his sister to remind him that he wasn’t completely alone in the world.
Finding the image within his phone’s gallery, he forced himself to confront it.
The person with one large arm hooked around the slender girl’s shoulders didn’t even look like him. Yet, Micah was forced to face that fact that it was, indeed, his image.
“I’m gonna be that man again, Trace,” he murmured with a decisive nod. “If it kills me, I’m gonna make my way back … for you, and for her.”
Chapter Eleven: Girl Talk
When Addison awoke again, it was past noon. Despite still feeling as if she had barely slept, she forced herself to leave the bed. The balance of the entire spiritual world relied on her; there was no time for her to lie around grieving her mother or nursing her inner wounds after her time in the underworld. Time stood still for no man, and this battle wouldn’t stop coming any faster just because she’d suffered some personal setbacks.
Locating the bag of clothes she’d brought when leaving Jack and Micah’s apartment, she rifled around until she found something to wear. Trudging out into the hallway, she made a beeline toward the bathroom. Pausing at the door, she frowned at what she found waiting for her in the kitchen.
Standing near the small card table where Elizabeth had taken her meals, Alice watched her with a nervous smile on her face. Spread out on the table were various implements used for styling hair—scissors, combs, brushes, a curling iron, and a blow dryer.
For once, Alice’s face wasn’t fixed into a scowl. Her dark, pink-and-purple-streaked hair had been pulled into a topknot, and without makeup, her freckles became more prominent. Her silver lip ring was a match for the stud through one nostril. She was a pretty girl, with a softness that was often covered up by dark eye shadow and a twisted snarl of a mouth. Without those things—which Addison suspected she wore like armor—Alice seemed far more relatable.
“Hey,” she called out, nervously, taking a step toward Addison. “Reniel just left, so you’re stuck with me for the afternoon.”
Addison nodded, glancing once more at all the items Alice had painstakingly laid out on the table. “What’s all that?”
Alice’s gaze flitted to the table, then back to her. “Well, I heard about what happened to your hair. It’s a good length for you, but I can see the ends are uneven and charred. If you want, I can fix it for you—make it look pretty.”
Why was Alice being so nice? From the moment they had met, the girl had been a straight-up bitch to her. She assumed that past history with Micah had been the cause. Her face grew hot as she wondered what Alice would think of her if the girl found out she’d let Micah have her up against a stripper pole.
“You do hair?” she asked, for lack of anything better to say.
“Hair, nails, makeup,” Alice replied with a shrug. “I’ve been a licensed cosmetologist for the past four years. I can arch your eyebrows, too, if you want.”
Addison continued eyeing her warily, worried that if she accepted the offer, she might end up with a shaved head or hideous bangs.
With a sigh, Alice came toward her, a small bottle held between her slender fingers. “Look, know I haven’t exactly been nice to you, but I’d like the chance to make things right. I promise I won’t screw up your hair on purpose. I’m good at what I do, and I’d like to make up for my past behavior.”
Reading sincerity in the other woman’s stare, Addison relented with a nod. “Okay. Let me shower and wash my hair, and I’ll be right back.”
Alice reached out, offering her the bottle. “Condition with this before you come out.”
She accepted it with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
Retreating into the bathroom, Addison cringed once she caught her reflection in the mirror. She looked like crap, and the burned, uneven ends of her hair didn’t help matters. If Alice could fix it, she would forgive all the past insults and spats. Hell, she’d kiss the girl full on the mouth if she could repair this mess.
Despite knowing Alice waited for her in the kitchen, she took her time showering, enjoying the relaxing effect of the hot water on her tired muscles. After shampooing and conditioning, she left the shower and made quick work of getting dressed. Pausing before putting on her shirt, she turned to study her shoulders in the mirror. The smooth, black lines of the tattoo etched across her back served as a reminder—the wings were real, and she would be stuck with them for a while.
When she emerged, Alice remained in the kitchen, now seated at the table staring at her cell phone. She put it aside once Addison appeared, standing and extending a hand toward the chair she’d just occupied.
She sat, stiffening a bit when Alice draped her with a black material, fastening it at the back of her neck. Just as quickly, she relaxed as Alice began pulling a comb through her wet locks.
“Are you okay?” Alice asked, keeping her voice a low murmur, as if afraid she would frighten Addison if she raised her voice. “I know it couldn’t have been easy … whatever Lilith put you through down there.”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
The truth was, she doubted she would ever be able to get the sight of her mother being burned to ash out of her mind. Of all the horrors she’d experienced down there, that had been the worst.
“She did things to us, too, you know. Derek can’t sleep through the night without having bad dreams. The poor guy isn’t built for that kind of stuff … even if he is a Guardian.”
Her heart sank at the thought of Derek suffering. While she knew Alice to be as tough as nails, Derek seemed a more passive sort of Guardian. His ability to memorize and retain mass amounts of information didn’t really equip him to defend himself.
“I’m sorry,” Addison murmured. “I tried to get to you guys as fast as I could.”
The motion of the comb paused, and Alice placed a hand on her shoulder. “None of this is your fault. These demons have lost their goddamn minds, crossing the line and doing things they know are against the rules. You came for us, even when you didn’t have to.”
“We’re all on the same team here,” Addison replied with a shrug. “It would have been wrong for me not to.”
“Still,” Alice insisted, squirting a handful of something from a bottle into her hand and running it through her hair. “I don’t think anyone would have blamed you if you’d left me behind. I haven’t exactly been the best team player.”
Turning her head, she met Alice’s gaze, curiosity now eating her up inside. “Why? I mean, I kinda get why you and Micah don’t get along, but …”
With a sigh, Alice motioned for her to turn back around. Sectioning off her hair and securing it with several clips, she left the strands at the nape of Addison’s neck loose and began cutting. The snip of the shears clicked quietly as she spoke.
“I learned about all this—the Guardians, angels and demons, the whole thing—when I was only seven years old. Both my parents were Guardians, and I discovered my gift shortly after being told the truth. My dad used to be a marine, and he was all about toughening me up and preparing me to fight. I was an only child, and I always felt he treated me like the son he’d always wanted but never had. My dad was certain that as time went on, this war would only get worse. As mankind continues to change and evolve, they create new ways to allow the demons in. Nowadays, it’s almost too easy.”
Addison thought of the distraction that kept people from seeing the truth, which was right in front of their faces if only they wanted to see it. She supposed Alice was right.
“Sounds like Jack and his family,” she said.
Pausing, Alice released another section of her hair, ran the comb through it, then continued cutting.
“That’s the way it is with elite families,” she replied. “Generations of tradition passed down and ingrained into us like good little soldiers. When Michael sent Reniel to gather the best of the best for this assignment against Eligos, I was ready. I’d already been paired with Derek, and we’d had a few small assignments, but I knew I was better than that. I was ready to take on the big boys.”
Addison didn’t have to guess what came next. Like Jack, Alice had likely grown jaded. Seven years of fighting this battle with no end in sight had taken a lot out of those involved—with Alice being no exception.
“It’s been hard, fighting what feels like an unwinnable war,” Alice continued. “When word started to spread that there might be a chance of a new weapon—the Seal of Solomon—being brought into play, a lot of us were excited. We didn’t know who the ring-bearer would be, but we figured it had to be someone special … a Guardian with a long lineage and a strong grasp of their abilities. That person could flip this thing in our favor, and we could start winning again.”
Alice’s revelation slammed into her like a fist in the gut. “You wanted to be the one.”
“I did,” she admitted. “I’d trained and honed my skills for so long. My parents both come from long lines of strong, faithful Guardians. I am the epitome of the word ‘elite’ in this world.”
Addison sighed. “Then I came along and screwed things up.”
“I’m not going to lie; I thought of it that way at first,” Alice replied, continuing her work with the shears. “When I found out that a demon Naphil was the Chosen One, I was so freakin’ pissed. We’d all worked so hard and for so long … it just felt like betrayal for you to be the one chosen. You didn’t know anything about us, the cause … any of it.”
“Trust me,” Addison said with a dry snort. “It came as much of a shock to me as I’m sure it did for you. In the beginning, I said no. Jack was the one who convinced me to step up.”
“I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t personal,” Alice said. “I was prepared to hate you on sight, no matter who you were. Then, when I realized that Micah had feelings for you …”
Addison stiffened. Micah’s feelings for her ran far deeper than Alice probably realized.
I’m in love with you, Addison Monroe.
His words haunted her, reminded her of the last time they’d spoken before she’d been forced to follow Lilith into Hell.
She cleared her throat and forced lightness into her tone. “Yeah, you’re gonna have to tell me what went on there. I’m dying of curiosity.”
Alice laughed, the sound dry and humorless. “Me and Micah … what a mess. It’s not something I talk about, and I doubt he does, either. It’s kind of embarrassing for us both.”
“Well, now I’m really dying here,” Addison quipped. “Spill!
This time, when Alice laughed, the sound held humor. “Well, the story goes like this. His sister had just died, and he and Jack were both a wreck. No one could get them to leave the apartment, and of course, Micah was drunk more often than not. We all gave them space, but after a while, Reniel encouraged us to reach out—try to get them back into the fold. Things were heating up, and for some reason, the demon presence in New Orleans had tripled almost overnight. We needed boots on the ground, and those two are one of our best duos. Anyway, I took myself over to the apartment, hoping to convince them that they were needed. When I got there, Jack had stepped out and Micah were there. He was alone, he was drunk, and he was crying as if someone had just stabbed him in the heart.”
Addison furrowed her brow. Micah, crying? She couldn’t imagine it. Even when Jack had died, he’d only stood there, his face all harsh lines and grief. Sure, he’d looked miserable, and she’d felt his pain at the sight of his partner lying in a pool of his own blood. But tears?
“I know,” Alice said when she fell silent. “He hardly seems capable, but trust me, I saw it with my own eyes. I’m talking sniffles, sobs, the whole nine … it was gut-wrenching. Of course, being the idiot that I am, I go to comfort him.”
“Oh, my God,” Addison said, her mouth dropping open. “You didn’t.”
“I’m afraid so,” Alice said. “He cried on my shoulder that night, we shared some beers and some laughs, and next thing I know, I’m on my back with my legs in the air.”
She chuckled at the mental image, but was all-too aware of how a girl could be caught off-guard when it came to Micah. It wasn’t as if she could blame Alice when she herself had fallen prey to Micah’s raw allure.
“I chalked it up to a one-time thing,” Alice went on, the scissors steadily snipping away between strokes of the comb. “But the next night, he showed up on my doorstep looking as pitiful as a puppy that’s been kicked. And he kept showing up—almost always drunk—and every time he came, I let him in.”
Addison furrowed her brow. “He used you.”
“Yep,” Alice murmured. “And I let him. He was hurting, and I was a source of comfort for him, I guess. Since he kept coming back, I fooled myself into thinking he had feelings for me … I was stupid enough to develop some of my own.”
“When did he end it?”
“About five months before you were chosen,” Alice replied. “He just stopped showing up. Stopped taking my calls. Cut me off altogether.”
While she didn’t want to believe Micah to be capable of such bad behavior, Addison had become very familiar with his dark side. Before they’d given in to the attraction that seemed to have sparked between them out of nowhere, he had treated her to his brand of cruelty.
“He lashes out when he’s hurt,” she offered, a weak explanation. “Or retreats into himself. It’s a defense mechanism I know a lot about.”
Alice paused, the scissors falling silent and the comb going still. “I know that, in hindsight. But, at the time, I wasn’t too happy about being used and tossed aside that way. So, I slashed the tires of his precious truck.”
Addison’s shoulders shook with laughter, and behind her, Alice joined in, a few snorts slipping out between giggles.
“Serves him right,” Addison managed between laughs. “No wonder you two don’t get along.”
“It wasn’t one of my prouder moments,” Alice admitted. “But he hurt me, and I wanted him to know it. I think that’s why it bothered me so much to see him being so caring and sweet toward you. A part of me still isn’t over what he did … but that’s between him and me, and has nothing to do with you.”
Addison pondered that for a moment, trying to place herself in Alice’s shoes. It wasn’t hard to feel empathy toward her. She had never been in a decent relationship, aside from her short time with Jack, and knew exactly how it felt to be pushed aside as if she meant nothing.
“I understand,” she replied. “For what it’s worth, I’m not proud of the way I handled things with you, either. Jack’s death devastated me, and I didn’t process my grief very well.”
“I’m not always the nicest person,” Alice murmured, setting the scissors aside and continuing to comb through Addison’s hair. “And I don’t make friends easily … especially with other women. But, if you can forgive me for being such a cunt, maybe we can start over. Clean slate?”
Addison turned her head and met Alice’s gaze, finding nothing but sincerity there. They seemed to have a lot in common—needing their hardened veneers to get through life. Even if their upbringings had been radically different, Addison could see a lot of herself in Alice.
She smiled. “Clean slate.”
Alice returned her smile and nodded, as if satisfied. Reaching over to the table, she held up a small hand mirror. “It’ll look better once I blow dry and style it, but … well, what do you think?”
Addison stared into the mirror and found that Alice had worked wonders with her hair. She’d taken advantage of the unevenness caused by the fire, creating soft layers that framed her face. It would take some getting used to, as it fell just to her shoulders, barely long enough for a ponytail. But Addison liked the chang
e.
Reaching up, she ran her hair through the damp locks, which had curled slightly from becoming wet.
“It’s adorable,” she replied. “I love it. Thank you.”
Alice’s smiled widened, and she lifted her chin proudly. “Good.”
They fell silent while Alice fired up the blow-dryer, and Addison submitted to the luxury of having someone else do her hair for a change. She typically colored it herself, filling in the roots whenever her natural red color started to show against her chosen fiery shade. She only visited salons for the occasional trim. It was nice to sit and let someone else take over.
Once she’d finished blow-drying, Alice ran a curling iron through the locks, brushing the curls out into soft, loose waves. Then, she painstakingly waxed and plucked Addison’s eyebrows. She felt like a new woman by the time it was all said and done.
“Now you’re back to your sexy self,” Alice said with a little laugh, beginning to pack away her tools and hair products. “Jack is going to love it.”
Addison fell silent as she moved to help clean up. Her face flushed when she realized that Alice had gone still and was staring at her with naked curiosity.
“Okay, now it’s your turn to spill,” she declared. “Are you and Jack not a thing anymore?”
Sighing, Addison ran a hand through her newly-shortened hair. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”
Snatching a handful of various sized combs out of her hands, Alice dumped them back on the table.
“Okay, that can wait,” she said, grabbing Addison by the arm and dragging her into the living room. “This can’t.”
Left with no choice but to sit, she watched as Alice went back into the kitchen, returning with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew.
“I brought this, because I figured you’d need a drink after what you’ve been through,” Alice said, setting the bottle onto the coffee table. “Got any wineglasses?”
