I dodged tree after tree, stumbling and regaining my footing, only to fall again. My heart pumped with fear as I raced toward a white light in the clearing, only I couldn’t get there fast enough. Even with the trees racing past me, nearly blinding me, I couldn’t will my feet to move any faster. I screamed my angel’s name until my throat became raw but only my echo had the courage to answer me.
At last I saw white wings, more beautiful than ever, and my heart leaped at the sight of them. “Garreth!”
I pushed myself forward, ready to jump into his arms, ready to float upward again, away from the darkness of the trees, away from the bloodstained star I knew was not far behind me. Tears spilled onto my cheeks. He was so close.
“Garreth!” My voice strained, but I had to call to him. I had to reach him. I had to keep moving.
But I stopped short. The wings before me were no longer soft and white, but thick and leathery. I was mesmerized. My mouth ran dry as I looked up and realized why my beautiful guardian hadn’t answered me.
The wingspan that towered over me was enormous, larger than anything I could ever envision. They flapped violently and strangely. I was flung to the ground, overcome with immense fatigue. As I came to, I found myself standing on a rooftop, my arms outstretched at my sides. I heard a voice behind me. Ryan. It was when I looked down at my feet and saw the black boots that I began shaking horribly. Claire’s boots. I stretched my hands out in front of me and saw the tiny scar on my left thumb. Claire’s scar. The scar she had gotten eight years ago, the day we met on the third-grade playground, the cut that brought us together and linked us as friends forever.
I felt my blood drain as the wind caught me, my feet no longer steady on the edge. Wings cradled me but only for a matter of seconds before breaking off. Then a swift breeze clawed at my skin, and I screamed in silence as I tasted blood from the back of my throat.
I didn’t want to wake up, but a sharp, intrusive light piercing the thin skin of my eyelids finally urged me to open my eyes. I murmured softly into the comfort of my pillow.
“Garreth.” My hand reached out to grasp his, knowing he would be there still, lying next to me, but my fingers grabbed a pillow.
I sat up, pushing my hair out of my face and I realized it wasn’t morning. Light streamed in from the hallway, bouncing off the glass of my window, mirroring my room back to me instead of allowing me to see the new day on the other side. There was a motion down the hall, followed by the slight padding of my mother’s feet, slowing as they reached my door until her form filled the brightly lit space of my open doorframe.
“Teagan? Honey, are you asleep?” Her hesitant voice was laced with worry.
“No, I’m awake.” I shook my head, trying to clear it, and quickly scanned my room. Aside from my mother, I was alone. “You were asleep on the couch when I came in. I didn’t want to wake you.”
My mom stood in the doorway, staring at me.
“What’s wrong?”
“Um, the phone. It’s about Claire.”
It was just like Claire to ignore my text. When she wanted to be heard, that girl sure had a way of making people listen. My brain was preparing me for what I would hear. All the reasons. All the excuses. Why she hooked up with Brynn and the Bitch Squad, why she dragged me into it. Hell, she was probably pissed at me for leaving.
“I’m sorry mom. I sent her a text when I got home. She’s probably just...being Claire.” My annoyance was streaming out of me.
With my covers pushed aside, I hopped out of bed to get the phone so she could go back to sleep but my mother didn’t budge. I tried to decipher the look on her face as she stared at me.
“It wasn’t Claire who called. It was her mother.”
Little bolts of fear pinched me from the inside out. My mom was going to find out eventually that I had crossed the town line and went to a rave, so I guessed now was as good a time as any.
Well, I almost went to a rave.
But what about when I had to explain the part about the IDs or Claire’s manipulative, turned-evil boyfriend? That sure as hell wasn’t going to go over very well. Not only that, now she would know I didn’t get a ride home with Claire.
I let out a big sigh. “I didn’t get coffee with Claire. We were supposed to, but she had this crazy idea about trying to get into a club with these new friends of hers.”
Eew. My stomach is churning.
“I told her it was wrong and I really, really tried to get her to go back home but she was acting strange and I couldn’t get through to her. So I found another way home. I’m sorry.”
The truth spilled out of me, much like it always did when I was nervous, and then I let my voice fall silent.
“I’m sorry. I guess this means I’m grounded from Saturday nights with Claire for a while, huh?”
I peeked at my clock: 4:23 a.m. My mom studied my face. If she was looking for guilt, I’m sure she found it.
“Teagan, there was a horrible accident.” Her face contorted and got that scrunched up look people get when they’re holding back tears. She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.
I stared at my mother as if she had two heads.
“Claire’s dead.”
In an instant, my dream found its way back to me. I felt the sick swirl of nausea starting in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly my room felt hot and dark and my pulse pounded throughout my body, adding to the strange tone my mother’s voice had taken on, like it was trapped in a metal can.
“Oh, sweetie.” She threw her arms around me, instinctively protecting me from the words she had delivered. “Thank God you’re all right, but I’m so very, very sorry about Claire.”
She reached for the tissue box on my nightstand but for some reason I wasn’t crying. I was numb.
I looked at her, her mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She was visibly more upset than I was showing. I couldn’t believe it. Claire?
Then, suddenly, something inside me snapped.
“We should have stayed together.” I was shaking now. “I shouldn’t have left her!”
I looked at my mother but it wasn’t her face I was seeing. It was Claire’s with her vacant stare.
My mother sat down on the edge of my bed slowly, as if not to upset me further. “How did you get home then?”
“Claire wouldn’t leave so I sort of found my own way home with someone from school.”
I don’t think she noticed the quiver in my voice and she didn’t press for more. For now, all was safe as far as Garreth was concerned.
Except for Claire.
All was not safe for her.
A tear escaped down my cheek as tiny pieces of my dream began trickling in, the numbness wearing off. My mother wanted to console me but I insisted I wanted to be alone.
It was all starting to become a little more clear.
Hadrian. My father. Claire.
The connections were there, piecing themselves together, and finally tears rolled down my cheeks as I mentally tallied who would be next.
I can’t let this happen.
I wrapped my arms around my body and for the first time in years, I prayed for someone other than my family.
I prayed for Garreth.
Chapter Sixteen
Feeling a presence, I turned to find my angel standing silently in the corner near my dresser. He had a strange look on his face, as if he was seeing me for the first time.
“What is it?” I asked quietly.
“No one’s ever prayed for me before.”
I held my arms out to him and he crossed the floor to sit with me.
“I’ve always heard your prayers. You prayed for me to come to you when you had a bad dream. I even heard you pray for a perfect, selfless, superwonderful boy to fall in love with. But I’ve never heard you pray for me.”
I couldn’t erase the thoughts stirring in my head. “Maybe it’s about time someone did.”
“Why?” he asked.
“You said Guardians become vulnerable when they are
protecting their human. I’m making matters worse.”
“Don’t even go there, Teagan. Nothing is going to happen to us. Everything will be all right.”
He was reassuring, in a defiant sort of way, as if worries like this surfaced all the time. Nonetheless, I was responsible for placing him in the direct line of danger from Hadrian, and living with this sinking feeling was not at all pleasant.
Without a word, he gently wiped away my tears, soothing me into a calm sleep.
When I awoke, he was gone and I was full of the strangest sensation I could ever imagine. My mind flickered back to Claire. My dream. My mother waking me in the night to tell me the horrible truth that I somehow already knew. Claire was dead. Not missing from my life because she was still angry at me. Not missing because she was still in the woods where I left her.
She was gone.
Dead.
Somehow I accepted it but I couldn’t comprehend it.
I reached for my phone. The inbox was empty, as I should have known. Its silence screamed the ugly truth. I wanted to check my e-mail but Claire never e-mailed me. I wanted to look out my window and see her waiting in her car at the curb.
I couldn’t stop myself from imagining the normal.
Claire, checking her face in the mirror and singing along to her music in an awkward voice.
Claire, reporting the latest gossip on someone, anyone, anyone worth gossiping about except...she wasn’t.
She wasn’t.
I felt myself sink to the floor but didn’t feel myself hit it. I felt wetness on my face. If I hadn’t left with Garreth, would I be dead too? Was that what this was all about? Either way I looked at it, it didn’t make any sense. So I stopped looking at it. It hurt too much.
I pulled my hair into a ponytail and looked at myself in the mirror with a blank expression. The smell of bacon wafted up the steps as I walked down. I found my mother at the stove, preparing a meal she knew I would never eat, but like the good mother she was, that didn’t stop her from going through the motions. I sat down in silence at the table and flicked at the curled edges of the morning’s newspaper with my finger.
She shot me a look of motherly concern and turned back to the bacon. “I’m glad you slept. That’s the best thing for you right now.” She placed a plate of warm, crispy fat in front of me. I just stared at it.
“If Garreth hadn’t shown up to bring me home I would...I might be...” She looked at me with a tender expression and I saw her eyes begin to fill up with tears. I couldn’t finish. I didn’t have to.
“Garreth. That’s an unusual name. I’d like to thank him for bringing you home safely. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you have a guardian angel.” She turned back to the spattering fat in the pan and I felt myself blush.
If she only knew.
I guess I always assumed she would be protective but it surprised me how easy this was. A smile appeared without even trying as I thought of her meeting Garreth and approving, but that smile soon faded.
“I heard that Claire’s boyfriend is an emotional wreck,” she said cautiously. “He told the police he tried to stop her. I just don’t understand how a couple of kids could sneak up to the roof unseen.”
“Roof?”
Mom sat down across from me and nudged my untouched plate, urging me to eat.
“That building is very dilapidated and should have been shut down years ago, but it never stopped kids from flocking to it.” She reached out and took my hand. “Claire slipped from the roof. She fell. At least that’s what Mrs. Meyers told me last night. I didn’t want to tell you all of it and you didn’t ask, so I let it go.”
She dug into her share of bacon while I played with mine. A part of me was thankful she didn’t gloss it over for my sake. It was better to know. Better to know what I was up against, if Hadrian did, in fact, have something to do with it. I bit off a small piece of my breakfast and crumbled the rest with my fingers. It fell to the greasy plate like ocher confetti.
As she quietly started to clear the table, she leaned down and gently kissed me. This was probably just as hard for her. Someone else close to us lost forever. Gone. Just like that. I looked up at my mother, knowing I should say something, but the words wouldn’t come to me. She had turned away and was now facing the sink, busying herself with the daily routine of life. Last night played over and over in my head. Could I have done anything differently?
I sighed heavily and let my head fall into my hands, but not without noticing today’s date on the newspaper. Today was Sunday. I only had four days left with Garreth. I realized something horrible was brewing inside of me. Something I was having a hard time controlling. What hurt tremendously was that I couldn’t grieve for Claire like I should. I should be crying hysterically, pining for my best friend of eight years. Eight years of friendship. Gone. And hate was taking its place.
My head shot up with a jerk. The number eight again. Claire and I met in third grade. She was eight years old and I was just turning nine. Eight years later, she’s dead and I’m in love with an angel and fighting to save humanity. Eight. The octagram has eight points. Garreth’s star. He was granted eight days to be with me. To be human. Claire’s life is over. When life ends, an incarnation ends. The Judgment Point. Eight lives. It was spinning through my head and I couldn’t stop it. It was meant to happen. Last night. It was all meant to...
The kitchen moved strangely. Tilting. My mother’s body spun at an odd angle as she turned and called out my name. The frying pan was suddenly airborne, sending soapy grease everywhere. Then all went black as my head hit the floor.
My mother gently tapped on my door. “Teagan? Are you just about ready?”
I smoothed the front of my skirt with my hands and stared at the girl in the mirror reflecting back at me. Something had changed, her eyes perhaps. I leaned closer to look deeper into the green eyes trapped within the glass. No, she was in there.
Just checking.
“Yeah, Mom. I’m ready.”
I opened my door and found my mother’s warm smile. I couldn’t help smiling back.
“You look nice. How’s your head? That’s quite a fall you took at breakfast, almost hit the table. ”
I rubbed the back of my skull and flinched. “Still tender, but it’s okay.”
“You made me nervous, but I guess it’s normal that you slept so long. You had a rough night. Just don’t forget to take more Tylenol. We’re leaving for the church in a few minutes. Are you sure you’re all right?”
I nodded and she gave me another smile, this one a little more apprehensive than the first, then she turned and headed down the steps, her heels clicking softly on the floor. The house still smelled like bacon grease. It lingered, reminding me of this morning. Suddenly, I wanted to get out of the house, far, far away from the smell that was beginning to turn my stomach.
By the time our car pulled away from the curb and headed west toward the church, my head was beginning to clear. The throbbing ceased, allowing me to think, and I was truly thankful that my mother didn’t bother filling the empty space of our short car ride with mindless chitchat. I couldn’t help thinking about Claire, though in a numb, detached sort of way that both relieved and appalled me. I began wondering all sorts of things, like what should I say to her parents, or was it okay not to say anything at all? Would Ryan be there? Would Brynn and her tagalongs dare show their faces?
Today was a memorial service. The viewing would be tomorrow, followed by the funeral the next day. My head was a gigantic jumble as thoughts wove themselves within it. There was so much weighing on my shoulders, so much depending on me, that I couldn’t help but think I would be of better use somewhere else.
As we drew near the church and rounded the corner, I couldn’t help noticing the reflection of a gray Jeep in the side mirror. It was two cars back but had no trouble keeping up with my mother’s erratic driving. I smiled to myself.
It was an old church, the type that had hard wooden pews that were smooth and worn a
nd numbed your bottom. An old, comforting smell was always present here, a smell I could never put my finger on but had breathed in every Sunday since I was a child. Sometimes it smelled of incense, especially on holidays, but it could never compare to the tantalizing smell that Garreth possessed. I closed my eyes to conjure that aroma rolling off his perfect skin. With that thought, I opened my eyes and turned around to look for him, hoping I would find him standing somewhere toward the back, but it was becoming crowded.
People were filing in, finding their places among the pews. I tried not to notice their awkward glances, so I stared down at my lap. But I still felt their stares and heard the whispers of Claire’s relatives, pointing me out. The sun was beginning to set, creating a warm glow of orange and purple across the open room, across the bridges of people’s noses in the fourth row, across the little cabinet that held the Host near the altar.
I heard the first five minutes of the homily before my thoughts began to wander, much like they always did. But part of me purposely tried to drown out the priest’s words. He had no idea what Claire was like and I couldn’t pretend to listen anymore. My eyes roamed the room and I smiled back at a lady in a lilac suit.
What would happen if I approached the altar and told them what Claire had been like last night?
“Hey, everybody, Claire kidnapped me so we could go to this raucous party, and you should have seen her milky eyes. She was downright freaky. She even arranged for fake IDs. But, hey, she spent the last moments of her life with wonderful, loving friends. Me? No, I abandoned her so I could hang out with my boyfriend who, by the way, has wings and is helping me thwart an evil angel’s plot against the world. So, if you think we’re all going to go to heaven someday, think again, because our futures lie in my hands!”
Maybe it was better to let the priest have center stage after all.
They would cart me off to the loony bin faster than my mother could tell them I bumped my head this morning, or explain to them why I still smelled like bacon.
Angel Star Page 10
