Jason knew the ending of the story. He was beaten until he cried. They’d left him with a torn book bag and some sizable bruises. But just as Jason was ready for the scene to end, Emma shook her head and motioned for him to look in a different direction.
His mother.
He’d had no idea she’d been present at the end, and she was clearly enraged, shaking with anger.
“Borrow my gift, Jason. Listen to her mind.” Emma stated this like it was the obvious course of action, but he was reluctant.
He’d never heard his mother’s thoughts, and right now seemed like a horrible time to take a peek. But he opened his mind anyway, and his mother’s essence filled his head.
My boy. God, I love him so much. He’s so good and kind. I’m going to kill those O’Dowell monsters. If their mother didn’t drink like a sailor…
Jason watched as his mother followed not his small, injured body, but the three boys that had dealt the blows. He and Emma trailed behind her, holding hands tightly. His mother tracked those boys right into their backyard. When they noticed her, they quickly adopted a respectful manner.
“Mrs. Parish! Hello ma’am. Are looking for our mother?”
His mother smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Filthy little bastards.
“Boys, are you having a nice day?” She held her umbrella in her hands like an offering.
“Yes, ma’am. No, ma’am.” They all spoke at once, and Jason could read the fear in their heads as well.
“I saw you put your hands on my Jason.” She let the words sink in.
They did, and the boys began to shift with guilt.
“If any of you come near him again, I’ll beat you to death with this umbrella. Is that understood?” She looked in the face of each boy.
They were shocked. It was the promise in her eyes that scared them. They were sure she was crazy, but she was speaking in a soft, pleasant voice.
“Yes, ma’am. Of course, ma’am.” They mumbled their answers.
“Very well, I bid you good day.” She turned to leave, but thought better of it. She smiled at the tallest one, then whipped the umbrella down hard on the top of his head. A sickening thwack resounded in the air. “Now I feel better.”
She used the umbrella as a walking stick as she sauntered away from the now-whimpering child.
Jason was shocked as he looked at Emma. “I had no idea she did that.”
Emma forced Jason to continue following his mother. “Listen to her! Do it!”
His mother’s mind was loud now, her worry giving it volume. Jason would die for a blind, old dog. Where did that child come from? He certainly doesn’t take after me. His mother pictured his face, brave and determined, and she poured her achingly deep love over his image. He was everything to her. She walked faster, almost running in her rush to get home and tend to her son.
Emma pulled him closer. “See? You had love in its most basic form. You’ve seen what I’d intended you to. Hang on.”
The rollercoaster through time with Emma as his safety belt began again. She made sure he focused on her face, which made him wonder what he’d see if he looked away. Would my whole life be flashing by us?
Landing softly in the snow, back in the recognizable, present-day woods, Jason found himself grateful for the quiet — the lack of other people’s thoughts inside his head. He treasured the solid memory he now had of his mother’s face. He’d keep her with him always — the sound of her voice, the strength of her love.
He still held Emma’s hand tightly. So tightly, in fact, that had she been human her hand would’ve been broken. The pure bells of her laugh filled the woods, and he turned to see what was so funny.
Emma was again clothed in crisp white, but now she wore a long, slim dress and a huge hat with a white flower.
“Dressing me in period clothing? Really, half-breed, am I your dress-up doll?” She wiggled free of his grasp and took a few of the small steps her skirt required.
Jason closed one eye, realizing that in his pondering of the time jump, he’d also mused about how beautiful Emma would look with her hair up. And she did look beautiful.
You clearly exceed the standard of beauty for that time. But I apologize. What would you prefer to wear?
She blinked, flattered by his thoughtfulness in spite of herself. “Honestly? I’d love to try out some pajamas. They look wonderful from above — much better than a frilly nightdress I had to wear when I was alive.” Shaking her head roughly, she looked down at the hem of her skirt.
What is it?
“I’m here for you, despite my slim chance of success. I still have one wing, and I’m duty bound to give you proper guidance. So I feel a bit selfish requesting something as silly as clothes.”
Smiling, Jason gestured to her, and at the same moment she was wrapped in glorious white cashmere. She wore the most comfortable, luxurious nightclothes he could fathom. And he included a pair of bunny slippers.
She squealed at the sight of their pointy ears and hugged herself. She moaned with her laughter in such a way that Jason had to concentrate to keep the clothes that gave her such pleasure on her body.
“Half-breed, you have a phenomenal imagination!” She bent over to examine the bunnies up close.
Jason continued smiling at her joy as he inspected her remaining wing. It looked dingy, tinged with gray. He thought this might be just a trick of the cloudy morning light, but as he watched, a single feather floated to the snow and emitted what seemed to be a tiny explosion on impact. Then it was only a memory, hidden in the snow’s glitter.
When Emma stood again, she was no longer smiling, but she held her shoulders proud. He was sure she could hear the panic in his head.
“This is just to remind me that I’m failing here,” she explained, motioning to her disintegrating wing.
“You took me to my past. How can you be failing?” Jason wondered if he could fashion a feather out of snow to replace the one she’d lost.
“Your mother was right. You are kind. Have no false impressions, Jason. I’m not a blind dog. I’ve fought viciously.” Her words were belied by uncertainty in her eyes.
How can I help you?
Emma reached over her shoulder and pulled her wing around her like a cloak to inspect it. “I can hear your thoughts, but they know your feelings, the state of your soul.” She let go of her dingy wing and shook her head with disgust. “Tell me, and be honest, have I changed your outlook? You’ve seen your mother’s love. What else is there?”
She took a few disarming steps toward him. He tried to shield his thoughts, but when the white pajamas caressed the outline of her body, he became a poor editor.
He pictured the old dog he’d been willing to take a beating for as a child. Then he pictured the wretched thing he’d become. He feasted on sleeping humans for their blood. Abhorrence of his parasitic ways engulfed him, along with a crippling despair.
“Oh crap. Seriously? The mom? The love? None of that touched you? Damn it.” She stomped her fluffy bunny slipper, and unlike her, its bouncing ears seemed anything but angry.
She looked up as if she heard something. Jason raised his eyes as well and discovered a show of gold-colored lightning that crisscrossed the pink-orange sky like a spider web.
“He’s laughing at me,” Emma said this out loud, but she seemed to be speaking to herself.
Who’s laughing?
She didn’t answer, her attention above.
“Send a ladder then, bitch! See if I won’t march up there and kick you so hard in the ass that you can count my toes with your lying tongue!” Emma began pacing.
More lightning flickered as an answer to her curses. Finally, with a huge boom of thunder, a slanted shaft of golden light punched through the clouds, stopping just inches from her bunnies’ noses.
“He’s such an ass. Who sends a ladder? Honestly, anyone could go up now. He flaunts his power and makes stupid choices.” She extended a bunny and the sunlight became a translucent s
tep for her feet.
She looked over her shoulder to address him. “Hey, half-breed, sorry about your luck. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re so bad.”
Jason watched as she ran up the stairs, dingy feathers now falling from her wings like magical rain. He replayed her words: “Anyone could go up now.”
Anyone could go up the stairs…
Chapter 2
Jason rushed up the stairs behind her. Despite his half-breed speed, the little slivers of see-through step were wiggling and unsteady. He knew going back down would lead to a hard fall, so he focused again on the path ahead. Rapidly fading into the distance, Emma seemed close to flying with her speed.
Finally, in a dizzying array of clouds, electricity, and blinding sunlight, Jason arrived at the top of the stairs. The clouds were still pulsating from where Emma had penetrated them, and he ran through to catch up.
Her angry voice stopped him. “You send me down, just to let me back up again? You can’t decide what the hell you want, can you?”
Jason stood still, and sure enough the clouds parted enough for him to see her as if through a sheer curtain. She remained in her pajamas, hands on her hips, scowling. The object of her hate stepped into view. He glowed like the sun, waxed and shined. His wings were easily the size of two cars. They trapped light like crystals and threw off rainbows in every direction. He was bare-chested, wearing only a pair of jeans. His rippling muscles flaunted his strength.
“Emma. Sweet Emma. You couldn’t turn down a chance to get a good look at me again, could you?” The angel trailed a finger from his neck to his abdomen, licking his lips as he looked at her.
Jason was jealous. The feeling seemed compounded by the altitude. His anger had him shaking.
“Everett. Asshole Everett,” Emma said, mocking him. “Looking at you makes me wish I could still work up a forceful puke.”
She didn’t look scared, but from this angle she did look dirty. These clouds were like cotton candy made from starlight. Emma was a grubby sock in a pile of bleached laundry. The vision that was Everett walked closer, and he made his pectoral muscles dance like a male stripper.
“How’s your redemption going?” He gave an elaborate pout.
Emma snorted. “About as good as your erections were on Earth.”
Everett flew toward her. Jason wanted to go to her side, fight for her, but the clouds that hid him had become a tight-fitting shroud. He struggled against them, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t help.
Emma tried beating her one floppy wing to gain some height, but it barely lifted her off her feet. Everett’s out-of-place smile grew more menacing as he swooped closer. Jason felt his mind cry as Emma gave up on her wing and squared her stance. She curled her hands into fists. Her defense looked like someone planning to blow out a forest fire with one breath.
Emma!
Her words came to him again as his concern escalated. “I am as you perceive me. This is how you want me to be.”
Jason shook his head and channeled his mental distress into something useful. As he began to picture her, she transformed. The bunny slippers became thigh-high leather boots. Jason made her a gladiator. He was even able to picture her wing dyed jet black. Her hands were soon wrapped around two coal-colored swords, as sharp as he could imagine them.
Everett stopped his threatening approach and set his feet close to, but not quite touching, the cloud-covered ground support.
“Oh, we’re not alone?” Everett scanned the area in mock surprise, pretending to look for Jason. “Did your new boyfriend try to get in the backdoor of Heaven?”
Emma didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge the change in Everett’s demeanor. She dropped one blade and hoisted the other above her head. She charged at Everett, who merely snickered. A clear divider materialized to stop the blade’s downward motion. Emma tossed the weapon and pounded on the barrier with her hands.
Everett began laughing, a deep, false-sounding noise. “Did you really think I wanted to fight? Emma, Emma, Emma. I come in peace. I’m here to offer you guidance in your time of need. Tell me, precious girl, what can I do for you?”
Emma ran a hand through her hair. Jason wrapped her hair in a ponytail for her mentally, appreciating the soft curve in her neck.
“You can go screw yourself, for starters.” She paced behind the barrier, her eyes scanning the clouds and pausing on the spot where Jason was hidden.
“You know, I was listening the other day, and it seems there might be some development down on the rocks of Croton,” Everett said. “Shame, the eagles will lose their habitat. Such is the way of the world.”
Emma became a statue. This seemingly innocuous information about eagles had terrified her. “You won’t touch him. You will not put your filthy hands on him.”
Everett’s voice went up an octave, as if he was talking to an infant. “Sammy-poo? Now, Emma I don’t need to tell you what my job up here entails. You did it for so many years.”
Everett approached the divider and placed a hand flat against it, offering his palm for her viewing.
Her voice came again — quiet and tremendously more threatening than when she’d been cursing. “Mention his name one more time, and I swear on your dirty soul I’ll — ”
Everett interrupted. “You can’t do anything. Please. You have to save the soul of a morose half-breed. Good luck with that. I’m untouchable, and you know it.” Everett put his mouth closer to the divider. “If Sam’s time is up, then I do my job,” he whispered. “And if his time is up in his next form, I’ll keep doing my job.”
Emma placed her hand against Everett’s palm, then curled it into a fist and punched the divider.
Everett winked and blew her a kiss. “Reincarnation is crazy, isn’t it? You die again and again and again and again.”
“You’re a vicious bastard. I’ll get up here soon. And I will rip your black heart out and deliver it to Hell where it belongs.” Emma stepped away from Everett.
Only another man would see the longing in his eyes, the want. Jason’s eyes widened as he registered Everett’s buried feelings.
Everett pulled his hand away from their almost-touch and ran his fingers across his lips. “Your pain tastes like honey. I want more.” His angel wings flared vibrant red.
He threw his arms above his head in a vicious cheer. “Run, pretty Emma! Try to fly! Save them all. I’ll be waiting.”
Everett smiled and twitched his head in the exact direction of Jason’s cloud coffin. The bottom fell out and Jason started a breakneck fall to Earth.
Emma dove almost immediately after him, ignoring Everett’s rising cackle of volcanic laughter. Jason’s remaining cloud confines unwrapped, leaving him free to flail as he hurtled to Earth.
Emma was glad to see him provide resistance to the wind while she maintained her perfect diver’s form, her wing tucked so she’d be aerodynamic. When she drew even with him, she wrapped her arm around his waist. He looked worried as she glanced down to gauge their speed.
“Do me a favor, half-breed, when I loosen my wing, grab the end and hang on.” Emma concentrated as the wind filled in all the space around them.
Will it hurt you? Thinking was easier than yelling.
“No. Quit being thoughtful — it pisses me off.” She sounded tough, but she had a hint of a smile.
Jason took a firm grip on the end of her wing. Her black feathers arched into a parachute above them and their drop slowed considerably. Emma tilted her head back to glare at the clouds above their heads.
“I wouldn’t put a tornado or hurricane past that asshole.” She was still angry, ready to fight.
Jason readjusted his hand, trying to find a softer way to hang on to her.
It’s a long way down. Why don’t you tell me why someone so evil is allowed in the gates of Heaven, and you’re tossed out?
She focused on him, finally. “Everett knows how to work the system. Always has, always will.”
Jason watched as the ground grew closer, mor
e tangible. The morning light had gone from pink to light blue, brightening with its effort of bringing a new day. Emma’s lips were so close to his, her body pressed so tightly against him, it was mind-numbing. She smelled like a honeysuckle and clouds. Thankfully she seemed to be ignoring his thoughts, or was completely immersed in her own.
“I hate him. There’s nowhere in the world I can go to get away from him. I wish…” She seemed to remember to have a tough exterior as the ground got closer.
Jason’s feet prepared for the impact. They were two wishes blowing back down to the land.
He thought in her direction. Tell me what you wish. Please?
Then Emma and Jason landed gently. He released her wing, hating how hard he’d had to hold on to make their impromptu landing gear successful. A bouquet of her feathers had come loose in his hand.
“I’m fine, half-breed. Really.” She stretched her arms and wing at the same time.
She looked dispassionately at her leather battle armor. He quickly pictured her in a long, white-velvet dress. Simple and warm.
Tell me.
Emma liked her new outfit. He could tell by the way she ran her hand over the fabric.
“I wish I had a forgiving heart.” She turned her back on him.
Her scar now looked more silver, like it might start to bleed again. He began to pray. God, she needs strength.
The wound became more like a tattoo again, healing.
She sighed and hugged herself. “I can’t even pretend to forgive him. I should do better. I know I should.”
Jason had no words or thoughts to help her. He couldn’t imagine forgiving Everett for a damn thing.
Emma turned to face him, rubbing her temples. “Okay. Let me think here…I need to get you to the next event.”
“Aren’t we going to help Sam?” Jason stepped closer, imagining her in a downy white jacket and pair of mittens.
She shook her head. “I need to get back up there.” She jabbed what looked like her knit-covered middle finger in the direction of her last confrontation. “To do that I need to get my wing back. So we have to fix you. Quick.”
Crushed Seraphim Page 3
