by Lola StVil
“No, I want to help,” I shout.
“I know, Winnie, I know. But you can’t. You don’t know how to—ARGH!” Dylann cries out as the orb hits her in her stomach. She falls to the ground. I quickly get down to tend to her. The demon that struck her moves in for the kill. I place myself in front of her and look on in terror as the demon comes to kill us both.
I refuse to close my eyes; it’s cowardice and I will not die that way. Okay, okay, in all honesty, I do squint a little. I mean this is it, the last moment of my life, and I don’t know how to take it in. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I see a larger-than-life figure with a hooded cloak land on the makeshift battlefield. The being speaks with a strong, firm voice.
“Enough,” the being says as it flicks its hand casually in the air. Every single demon falls from the sky, dead. Ryder rushes RJ’s limp body to his sister. She heals him with a mere touch. The cloaked figure takes off the hood, revealing a beautiful woman who looks to be in her early forties, with long dark hair, glowing skin, and deep purple eyes.
“Who is that?” I ask breathlessly as I apply pressure to Dylann’s wound. The figure makes her way to us. Dylann slowly stirs and looks in the direction I’m facing.
“That’s a member of the council. Her name is Emerson Cane. Some call her Emmy. But most call her by her function: Death,” Dylann says in a whisper. Fear and anxiety cloud my face as the woman nears us. Dylann tells me not to worry and that it will be okay, but I doubt that.
Death arrives, bends down to the ground, and helps Dylann sit up. There’s something awe inspiring about her. She looks at me with wonder and longing. She reaches out to touch my face, but she doesn’t make physical contact. It’s like she fears I could be some kind of dream. It’s as if she can’t believe I’m real. She then turns her attention back to Dylann.
“Hi, Ducky,” Death says.
“Hi, Grandma.”
***
It’s an hour later and we are at Death’s house or as the group calls it, “The Guardian” home. It’s located on the Upper East Side of Manhattan; it’s easy to tell what kind of people live here—rich, very rich. This area is among the most affluent in New York City. While the neighborhood is amazing, the house is even more impressive. It has high ceilings and light hardwood floors; everything looks modern and damn near perfect.
Death sent the group away so that we could be alone. But I can see Lucas lingering just outside the window. He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks on, gravely concerned.
Death walks over to the window and looks out at him.
“I have a feeling even I am not strong enough to make Lucas go away,” she says.
“He saved my life. This is all happening because of him. I’m sure he’s out there regretting his actions,” I mumble.
“Regret? Is that what you’re reading on his face?” she asks, slightly amused.
“Yeah, what else could it be?”
She smiles to herself as if she knows something I don’t. She then comes over to the sofa and sits beside me. I wrap my hands around the mug of hot peppermint tea she made me. I hold on to it as if letting it go would somehow cause me to float away. Death watches my hands and takes note of just how tightly they are wrapped around the mug. She reaches out and gently takes the cup from me. She places it on the glass coffee table and puts her hand in mine.
“Seeing your first battle is hard enough, being right in the center of it…I’m sorry I didn’t get to you fast enough,” she says with genuine regret. I shrug my shoulders slightly and turn away, not knowing what else to do.
“I know all the questions bouncing around in your head because I had the same questions back when I was human and learned about the Angel world.”
“You used to be human?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“How did you end up…?”
“It’s a long story. What’s important is that you know there is nothing wrong with being freaked out. You have had a very bizarre night,” Death says.
“No, this is pretty much how all my Saturdays go,” I joke. Death laughs. It’s not dark and creepy like one would think; instead it’s warm and melodic.
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be scary or something?” I ask.
“Death is an insanely powerful force, as you can imagine. But it’s also a part of life and can be gentle and kind. When a human has lived a full life and has loved and been loved, when death comes…it’s a beautiful thing.”
“Wow, I never thought of it that way. How come you look so young? If you’re my grandmother, shouldn’t you be a lot older?”
“We don’t age the same as humans. This is what a grandmother looks like in the Angel world,” she says.
“Oh, got it. So, you like being death?”
“Very much, but I’m a mom first. I raised your mother, Pryor. And I watched as she raised you and Dylann. We never thought our time with you would be cut short,” she admits.
“The fighting…it that how it always goes? All the blood and stuff?” I ask.
“No, sometimes it gets messy,” she jokes.
“Good to know.”
“Don’t worry. Now that you know you’re a Toren, your powers will come. It may take some time but it will happen. Then battles will be less…traumatic for you.”
“I guess. But you should know as of now, my only powers are being able to nab a seat on a crowded New York City subway train, holding my pee until the commercial break, and predicting which line in the supermarket will move faster. Hint: it’s usually whichever line I just came from.” She laughs and somehow gets me to join her.
“Death, Lucas saved me. Does that really mean the end of all human life?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Yes, but the blood tree changes things,” she says, in deep reflection.
“What do you mean?”
“The black apple is long thought to be an invite from evil; however, that is a fallacy. It’s not an invite, it’s an offer,” she says.
“What kind of offer?”
“We won’t know yet. First the black apple, otherwise known as a Blood Plum, appears to the being the offer is made to. Then the council is presented with the formal offer from the Collective.”
“But aren’t you part of the council?”
“Yes, it’s Death, Time, and Fate. All three of us will be notified when the Collective presents a written offer. Normally I would be with Time and Fate now.”
“But instead you’re here, with me.”
“You’re my granddaughter. I am where I am supposed to be,” she says reassuringly.
“You can go, be with the council. I can handle myself. I’m not scared,” I lie.
“Fate or Time will let me know as soon as the Collective’s offer comes in. And before you ask, no, Fate does not know everything. She sees some things and not others,” she says.
“So there’s no way to know until then? Can’t we find out somehow?” I beg.
“That’s what your parents are trying to do. That’s the only reason they are not here yet. They are scouring the Demon world, trying to find out what the Collective is up to. The goal of the Collective is to end humanity, and now that they have a chance, they’ve yet to act. It’s highly suspicious,” Death reasons.
“I can’t go back to not knowing, can I?” I ask.
“No, love, you can’t.”
“Lucas should have let me die, that way everyone would be safe. Why didn’t he?” I wonder.
“I know what he did was impulsive, but I can’t say I’m sorry he did it. We love you and Dylann so much, we couldn’t bear to lose you,” she tells me.
“This is just so…crazy. How did Lucas even know where to look for me? What was he doing there?”
“Perhaps this part is better coming from Lucas himself,” she says.
“Yeah, I guess…”
“Summit, not all of it is bad. If the Collective is making an offer, that means there’s something they want from us. We might be able to take a
dvantage of that. We just have to hope your parents come back with information.”
“What are they like?” I dare ask.
“Your parents?” she says. I shrug my shoulder again and pretend it’s just a casual question.
“Aaden and Pryor loved each other even before they were born. They grew up together. They are on the same team—the Noru team. She’s the leader; he’s the second-in-command. Pryor is fiery, impulsive, skilled, and passionate. And more importantly, she’d do anything for her children.
“As for your father, I’m sure the team has told you that his street name is Silver; that has to do with the color of his wings. He’s half demon and half angel. He has a dark past—a group held him hostage and tortured him. He doesn’t talk about those days much.
“Many angels gave up on him, thinking he had no more goodness left, but your mother loved him and fought to help him find a better version of himself. But the thing that really healed Aaden was the day he first held you in his arms. It repaired something inside him. You and Dylann redeemed him.”
“If I was so important to them, why’d they give me up?” I mutter bitterly.
“Because we had no choice,” a woman says behind me. I turn around and see two beings in their mid-twenties enter through the front door and head towards me. The first to make contact is the woman they call Pryor. Pryor, like her youngest daughter Dylann, is beautiful, slender, and has wild red hair. Then there’s the matter of her eyes. Once again I am faced with eyes exactly like mine.
Next thing I know, her husband, Aaden, rushes into the room and picks me up off the ground in a big bear hug. He’s a powerhouse of muscle and brawn. He’s at least six three; he has penetrating amber eyes and gray wings. They embrace me so tightly I can feel my ribs start to cave in. Pryor finally pulls away and looks at me. She places her hand against my face and tells me how beautiful I am. She tells me how much she loves me. Before I can reply, I am swept up in another bear hug.
“Did you find out anything?” Death asks.
“No, none of our contacts had any info for us. We captured half a dozen demons and threatened to light them on fire, but no one knows the offer on the table. We’re going to have to wait for the formal offer to come to the council,” Pryor says. Suddenly, Aaden scoops me up again and holds me even tighter.
“Hey, put me down!” I order. Aaden places me back on the floor. He studies my face and marvels at the sight of me.
“Sorry, I’m just so damn happy to hold my little girl again,” he says.
“Winnie, we can’t believe you’re here,” Pryor says.
“You are so grown up! And I don’t give a crap about the Collective. Whatever they try, we’ll handle; together,” Aaden says firmly.
“The purple highlights, we really thought they’d grow out, but they are still here. You are so beautiful! Dylann must have been so excited to see you again! We talk about you all the time. We hoped and prayed to Omnis that you would be safe and cared for. Oh, my baby girl.
“Are you getting enough rest? Is school okay? Are you hungry? You’re an angel, so you don’t need to eat but until your powers emerge, you might still have human needs. You saw your first battle today, honey, are you okay? You look tired, should you sleep? Mom, did you need a lot of sleep back when you were human? Do I need to give her vitamins?
“Something went wrong during a mission a few years back and my powers were taken. I was just like a human. Do you remember, Aaden? I fell in love with tequila, chocolate, and peanut butter. Do we have any of those things here? Maybe we should go to the store? Oh, but I don’t want to leave her.” Pryor is talking so fast, we are barely able to follow her. She heads to the kitchen like a madwoman, trying to find food for me. I see her wings flapping like crazy behind her.
Since I can see their wings, I guess I am officially a believer in angels…
“Pry, you have to calm down,” Death says, lovingly placing a hand on the side of her daughter’s face.
“Mom, she’s home. Our Winnie is home!” Pryor says, going in to hug me yet again.
“Summit. My name is Summit,” I remind them as I take a step back. Pryor exchanges a look of concern with her husband. He takes a step towards me and I step back instinctively.
“Sweetie, we know this is very strange for you, but we have never stopped thinking about you or wanting you in our lives,” Pryor says as she takes her husband’s hand.
“I don’t know you—any of you,” I remind them. “Look, Pryor, I don’t want to—”
“Mom. I’m your mom,” she says desperately.
“We know this is difficult. A lot of crap has happened in the last few hours. But we are here now, and we will help you,” he says.
“Look um—Aaden—or should I call you Silver?”
“It’s not Aaden or Silver; it’s Dad. I am you father. This is your mom. We are your family,” he says.
“You’re angry and hurt. We get it. We just want you to know…it was hardest choice we’ve ever had to make,” Pryor says.
“Winnie, I know—”
“DON’T CALL ME THAT! YOU DON’T GET TO WALK OUT OF MY LIFE THEN WALTZ BACK IN ANY DAMN TIME YOU WANT!”
“Young lady! That is enough! We know you are confused and upset, but you will respect your mother and watch how you speak to her,” he demands of me. Pryor shakes her head as tears flood her eyes.
“Emmy, can you take Pryor outside for a minute? I want to talk to Summit, alone,” he says.
“Pry, please go with your mom. I’ll take care of this,” he promises as he strokes a stray hair from her face. She turns to me and is about to say something but thinks better of it. Death takes her by the hand and the two of them head outside.
“Summit, I know I’m a stranger in your eyes, but I promise you, we are here to help you. You can talk to me,” he says.
“I can’t do this right now. I need to know what the Collective wants from me.”
“You can’t ignore us.”
“Yes, I can. Just like you ignored me. You know what, screw this. I have to go,” I reply as I head for the door.
“Go where? News of your entry into our world is everywhere. You have to stay with us,” he says.
“No, I don’t! It’s my life and I’m gonna do what I want with it,” I counter.
“Not anymore, you can’t. You are the most powerful angel that has ever been created, and in addition, you are an Echo; you were selected by Omnis as a possible replacement. You are in line to be a god. You don’t know what kind of evil is out there or what they would do to get to you.”
“Who do you think you are, standing there trying to educate me on evil? You think I haven’t encountered evil before? You think I’m a stranger to darkness because I wasn’t raised in your world?
“You know what, ‘Dad,’ maybe you saved me from an army of dark-winged demons. Great, thanks. But there were other evils. There were demons who didn’t have wings but still had the power to shred my soul into a million pieces. Three foster homes in five years. Three sets of screwed-up humans who took in kids for all the wrong reasons.
“My first home, they couldn’t remember my name. They took in an army of kids so they could collect the money from the government. I ran away and was gone for six days before they realized I wasn’t there. My second home was with this really nice couple, the mom was a homemaker and her husband worked a lot of overtime. It turns out, ‘overtime’ is code for ‘screwing the intern.’ They split up and neither one of them wanted me. They threw me away like trash and didn’t even say goodbye. I had to hear from my social worker that they didn’t want me anymore.
“But those two places were paradise compared to the last foster home I was in: the Robertsons’. The wife was a pharmaceutical rep. She was always traveling and she’d leave me with her husband—Erick. Erick would ‘accidently’ walk in on me in the shower—every time. I would have to bathe at a classmate’s house, or rinse off at a gas station. He’d find ways to rub up against me as I walked by and he’d s
it across the table leering at my chest and lick his lips.
“I tried to tell his wife, but I couldn’t find the words. She was so in love with him. I didn’t want to wreck her world. And I didn’t want her to send me back. So I dressed as conservatively as I could. I hid myself under sweaters and layers. But that didn’t help. He raised the heat up so high I had no choice but to remove the excess layers.
“And one night while his wife was on a weeklong trip, I woke up and found him standing over my bed. He said if I lay still, it wouldn’t hurt. He climbed on top of me and I took out the blade I’d been keeping with me ever since the first time I caught his creepy vibe. I pressed it between his legs. I told him that if he didn’t get up from my bed and walk out of the room, I’d make sure he’d never need boxers again.
“He cursed and vowed that sooner or later, I’d give in to him. As soon as he left, I crawled out the window in my PJs and roamed the streets until sunrise. I called the wife and I told her what happened. She called me a whore. She said it was my fault. She said I would never have a home because I was worthless. And for years, I thought she was right; I was unlovable. Do you know what that feels like? Do you have any idea how much that hurts? I had to think of reasons not to die; me, all by myself. So don’t stand there and tell me how much you want to protect me. I protect me.
“I know you think you did the right thing by sending me away, but you didn’t. Family is the only thing we have to shield us from all the crap that goes on in this world. Family is a weapon against darkness. A light. You took that from me. If you love me like you say you do, why did you take that from me?”
His eyes cloud over with rage. His jaw tightens and he growls with wrath as he flies out the window and takes to the air.
“Hey, where are you going?” I scream after him. He doesn’t turn back; he skillfully cuts through the air and out of my sight. Lucas enters the house and says Death and Pryor told him to check on us. He asks where Aaden is, and I tell him everything.
“The guy in your last foster family hurt you and you told Silver?” Lucas asks, on ultra-high alert.
“Yeah, because I wanted him to know that I could take care of myself. Oh no, he’s gonna go talk to Erick?” I ask, dreading the reply.
