by SJ West
“What are you thinking?” I prompt him, bracing myself yet again for what I’m about to hear.
“I have no idea if it’s true or not, of course,” he says, “but I’ve often wondered if Helena was able to cross over to the Earthly realm because of her connection to you, Anna.”
“Me?” I ask, feeling confused. “How did I help her escape Hell?”
Lucifer studies me for a moment, taking in the return of my brown hair and eyes.
“She was able to form a connection to you when you had the seals, correct?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes.”
“And after you had the babies, that connection was obviously broken.”
“Oh no,” I say, quickly standing up from my chair and rushing over to Zane, who is still holding a slumbering Liana in his arms. “No, no, no, no, no …” I repeat, as if saying the word enough times will change what’s happened.
I’m faintly aware of Malcolm following behind me as we go to our daughter. As I stand next to Zane, I reach out and trace the side of Liana’s face with my index finger. Almost instantly her eyelids fly open, and she stares at me with her bluer than blue eyes. I shake my head, denying to myself what should have been blatantly obvious to me. As tears of despair and guilt cloud my vision, I pull my hand away from my daughter’s face and stare at the few strands of hair on her head. There isn’t much, which is probably why I didn’t notice it before now. When I saw the healed skin of Liana’s belly button, I should have realized then what happened. Helena healed me once too, right after she took the seals from me. She said she was able to do it because of our connection to one another.
“Her hair is white,” I say in a breathless whisper to Malcolm as my world begins to shatter around me.
“You don’t know that for sure,” Malcolm argues. “She barely has enough to even be called hair. It’s more like peach fuzz.”
I vigorously shake my head as I turn to face my husband. “Stop denying it, Malcolm! Look at her! The sooner you accept that she’s connected to Helena, the sooner we can figure out a way to help her through it.”
“Our daughter is not connected to that monster, Anna. I refuse to believe that!”
“Then you’re just being foolish,” Lucifer chastises my husband. “Why else would a newborn show her mother so much loathing? Of all the people in this world, Helena despises both Anna and me the most, and now your daughter has a direct connection to her wrath. Listen to your wife, Malcolm, and prove to me that you aren’t the idiot I always took you as being. Face up to the facts of the situation and be strong for your family. Burying your head in the sand over this will do no one any good.”
Malcolm’s shoulders sag as he slowly forces himself to accept the truth of what my father just said. He takes me into his arms and holds me tighter than he ever has before. It’s only then that I realize I’m sobbing. I’m not even sure when I started to cry. As warm tears of despair continue to stream down my face uncontrollably, I cling to Malcolm as if my sanity depends on him continuing to hold me.
“We’ll figure something out, Anna,” Malcolm says with conviction. I feel him kiss the top of my head as he continues to murmur words of encouragement to me. “She’ll grow up knowing that we love her more than anything in this world. No matter how much influence Helena might have on her, we’ll fight her every step of the way. We can do this. I know we can.”
I try to take encouragement from his words, but hopelessness threatens to consume me from the inside out. If we have any hope of saving our daughter’s soul from Helena’s clutches, she’ll need to form a strong, everlasting bond with the people around her. Only the love of family and friends will be able to pull her back from the darkness Helena is sure to force upon her.
I pull back from Malcolm enough to look into his eyes.
“You have to be her rock,” I tell him, clutching his shirt with my hands as if such an action will make him listen to me more than he already is.
“We’ll both be there for her,” Malcolm replies, sounding unsure as to why I only included him in my statement.
I shake my head vigorously because he doesn’t understand the full impact of what I’m trying to say.
“We have to face the fact that she may never be able to love me,” I’m barely able to say. I’m weeping so hard from a feeling of loss that I can barely take in a full breath. Just the thought of my little girl hating me as much as Helena does fills me with a hopelessness that makes the future seem bleak and nothing more than an endless sequence of heartbreaking moments. “You have to be there for her when she needs someone to guide her. She has to know that she can come to you for anything.”
“I promise I’ll be there for her,” Malcolm says as he attempts to wipe my tears away with his fingers, but it’s no use. As soon as he wipes away one trail of tears, another set takes their place. “But we’ll both be there for her, Anna. She’ll know she’s loved unconditionally by both her parents.”
“You have to be her friend,” I tell him, taking a shaky breath. “And I have to be her parent.”
Malcolm looks slightly confused by my emphasis on the two separate roles we need to play in our daughter’s life.
“You know as well as I do that she’s going to be a handful,” I say, unclenching my hands and releasing my grip on Malcolm’s shirt. I take a step back and clear the tears away from my eyes because I know what my part in my daughter’s life has to be. “She’ll have to be disciplined, and you can’t be the one who does it. The responsibility has to fall to me. She already hates me. She’ll just hate me a little bit more for being the one who punishes her.”
“Anna …” Malcolm begins with a tone that tells me he thinks I’m making a hasty, emotional decision.
“That’s the way things have to be, Malcolm,” I say resolutely. “You have to be her friend, and I have to be the disciplinarian. Tell me you understand that. I need you to go along with this because it’s the only way I can think of to save her.”
I begin to sob again, even harder this time as the realization sets in that I’ve lost the love of my daughter before I’ve even had a chance to earn it. Malcolm brings me back into his arms and simply holds me. He doesn’t try to convince me that I’m making the wrong decision. All he says is the one thing I need to hear in that moment.
“We’ll do whatever you think is best, Anna. I will support any decision you make as long as you always listen to my opinion about it. Can you promise me at least that much?”
I nod my head and sniff as I try to bring my grief under control.
“Um, I’m sorry. Have we come at a bad time?” I hear Jered say in the room.
I pull away from Malcolm to look in the direction of Jered’s voice.
I see that he was successful in the mission we sent him on, because standing by his side is the War Angel he was sent to find: Marcus.
I haven’t spent much time with Marcus, but I do remember meeting him on a few occasions since the War Angels came to Earth. He is tall with short, cropped hair the color of milk chocolate and piercing hazel eyes that always seem to catch the light just right to make them glow. He stands before us, dressed in the black War Angel uniform they all wear when they’re on duty. Marcus has always struck me as slightly cocky in his opinion about himself, but whenever he speaks to me, he tempers that attitude and shows me the respect I deserve as his commander on Earth.
“Hello, Marcus,” I say, wiping away the last of my tears. I’ve allowed myself the indulgence of mourning the loss of my daughter’s love. Now, we have things that need to be done, and I can’t afford to waste any more time by being weak. “Has Jered told you why we wanted you to come here?” I ask.
Marcus nods slowly. “Yes. He explained everything to me.” I notice Marcus look between Liam and Liana. “Which one is she?”
“This is Liana,” Zane tells him, lifting the arm he’s using to cradle Liana slightly to indicate which baby is the one he seeks.
“Do you mind?” Marcus asks me, lifting his right h
and to signify he wishes to approach Liana.
“Come see her,” I tell him. “That’s why we asked Jered to bring you here. Aiden thought it was important for you to meet her since she carries Arel’s soul.”
“I thought Arel was lost to us forever,” Marcus says as he makes his way over to Zane.
“Would you like to hold her?” Zane asks.
Marcus looks to me, silently asking for permission. I nod and watch to see what Liana’s reaction will be to him.
Marcus gently takes her from Zane. As soon as my daughter is in his arms, she seems to wake up. Marcus simply stares at her, looking unsure of what to say or do next.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, Marcus clears his throat and states, “My name is Marcus, Liana. Arel created me during the war in Heaven, and I was her personal War Angel. She named me Manakel, but I chose the name Marcus before God sent us here to help your mother.” He clears his throat again, briefly glancing in my direction before continuing. “I want you to know that I will always be here for you and your family. If you ever need me to do something for you, I will do it.”
I see one of Liana’s little hands reach out toward Marcus’ face. He bends his neck down until she can reach him. She ends up grabbing his bottom lip and playing with it, which causes Marcus to laugh.
As I watch Liana’s reaction to Marcus, I feel jealousy seep into my heart and spread like wildfire. I don’t want to close my heart off to my daughter, but it might be the only way I can protect myself from a pain so great it could cripple me in time. What other option do I have left open to me if I want to remain sane?
“You look tired, my love,” Malcolm says to me, not even attempting to hide his worry. “I think you should get some more rest. It’s been an eventful evening.”
“I agree,” Lucifer chimes in. “Why don’t you take her upstairs, Malcolm? We can watch over the babies for you.”
“Make sure you bring them up if they look like they’re getting hungry,” I tell Zane and Lucifer.
“I promise we will,” my dad says.
Without wasting any time, Malcolm takes my hand and phases us up to our bedroom.
“Would you like me to run you a bath?” Malcolm asks, gently rubbing his hands up and down my bare arms in a soothing manner.
“No,” I say dejectedly, turning toward the bed and walking over to it. “I just want to go to sleep.”
Malcolm phases to my side of the bed, even before I’m able to reach it, and pulls down the covers for me.
“Would you like to put on a fresh nightgown?”
I shake my head and sit on the edge of the mattress to slip the shoes off my feet.
“I just want to go to sleep, Malcolm.”
After I climb into bed, my ever-loving husband pulls the covers over me and leans down to give me a kiss.
“Do you want me to leave you alone tonight so you can have your own dreams?” he asks.
“No.” I reach my right hand up to cup the side of his face, desperately needing the physical contact to ease my broken heart. “Build me a beautiful world where I can forget about things for a while. I don’t want to be alone, Malcolm. Not now.”
He leans down and lightly brushes his lips against mine. “All right, my love.”
My husband quickly sheds his clothes before climbing into bed with me. He takes me into his arms, and I’m instantly lulled to sleep by the warmth of his body, his eternal, unquestionable love, and a heart that beats only for me.
Chapter 9
When I enter into Malcolm’s dream world, I find myself standing in the study he had in his Lakewood home. The house no longer exists, of course. Levi burned it to the ground right after he found Malcolm and me in the small workshop on the property.
“I miss this house,” I tell Malcolm, who is dressed exactly like he was the night of our first kiss.
“I’ve been thinking about rebuilding it,” he tells me as he loops his arms around my waist. “What do you think?”
“You should,” I say, laying my head against his chest and breathing in the scent of him. I wrap my arms around his waist, trying to hold back the sorrow I feel threatening to consume me, but it’s a losing battle.
As I begin to sob over the loss of my daughter’s love to Helena’s madness, Malcolm tightens his hold on me.
“Oh, Anna,” he says, his voice an echo of my pain.
I know he can feel my heart breaking because of our bond with one another. I wish I could prevent him from having to endure the depths of my sorrow, but the connection between soul mates can’t be turned off on a whim. We are one, and when either of us has our heart broken, the other will always feel it. It’s both a blessing and a curse.
“I wish …” I try to say between sobs, attempting to take in enough air to finish my thought. “I wish I could hold her just once and see her smile up at me.”
Malcolm remains silent for a while as I continue to cry. Then he says, “Anna, I could make that happen for you if you really want.”
I sniff before lifting my head from the wet spot I’ve made on his shirt.
“How?” I ask, wondering how my husband can work such a miracle for me.
“I could do that here,” he tells me, closely watching for my reaction to his suggestion.
I know what he means. He could conjure a figment of Liana in his dream world—one I could hold who wouldn’t automatically start to cry. It wouldn’t be real, but it might be the closest I can ever get to the real thing.
“Do it,” I say, taking a step back from him.
I immediately hear the happy gurgle of a baby. When I look to my left, I see a white bassinet sitting in the room now. I don’t move. I just listen to the sounds of the imaginary infant. Malcolm takes my hand and urges me with a small tug to walk over to the bassinet with him. When I look inside it, I can almost believe it’s really Liana lying underneath the white baby blanket. I stare at her for a long time, trying to work up the courage to lift her into my arms. Even though I know she isn’t real, I still feel hesitant to touch her, in fear I’ll be rejected all over again.
“Go ahead,” Malcolm encourages me, letting go of my hand. “Pick her up, Anna.”
I look over at him and see a sad smile on his face as he watches me.
“Do it, my love. Maybe it will help you in some small way.”
I work up my courage and reach inside the bassinet to lift the baby into my arms.
Again, I’m amazed by how tangible things feel inside Malcolm’s dream world. Liana feels so solid in my hands. When I bring her closer and cradle her against my chest, I can almost imagine that I’m back in the real world and that Liana is allowing me to hold and love her the way I so desperately want to. As I study her face, our eyes meet, and I see that Malcolm has given his version of Liana eyes the same brown as mine. Liana’s little lips stretch as she smiles up at me, gifting me with her acceptance and unconditional love.
But I know this isn’t real. This isn’t my baby. This isn’t my Liana.
As I continue to hold Malcolm’s perfect rendering of our daughter, various moments in the not so distant future begin to play through my mind. When the real Liana takes her first steps and refuses to come to me, will I have Malcolm recreate the moment in his dream world so I can experience it the way I want to? When Liana scrapes her knee for the first time in the real world and refuses to let me comfort her, will I beg Malcolm to conjure a close facsimile of the event just so I can relive it the way I imagine?
Will I end up wanting to live out a perfect life with my daughter in a world that doesn’t actually exist just because I can’t handle the reality of our relationship?
As hot tears of grief begin to stream down my face again, I place the dream world Liana back into the bassinet and run out of the room, a desperate Malcolm calling after me.
I’m not sure where I’m going, but all I know is that I need to get away. It was stupid of me to believe holding a fake baby would make me feel better. If anything, it’s made me feel even
worse. It gave me a taste of what I could have had if Helena hadn’t interfered. She stole my daughter’s love away from me before I even had a chance to earn it. It’s something I’m not sure I can ever forgive her for doing to me.
I end up running out into the backyard and toward the workshop where Malcolm and I shared our first kiss. I throw the door open and run inside, collapsing in a helpless, sobbing heap on top of the worktable. Seconds later, I feel Malcolm’s warm hand rest on the small of my back.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought it would help, not make you feel worse. Forgive me, my love.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him, forcing myself to stand up straight. I turn to face my husband and allow him to pull me into his arms. I know he needs to be comforted just as much as I do.
“There has to be something I can do,” I tell him, wracking my brain for a solution to the problem. “I don’t want to give up on finding a way to gain Liana’s love, but what can I do to change how she feels about me?”
“Maybe she’s not the one you need to work on,” Malcolm says.
“What do you mean?”
“If she’s feeling Helena’s hatred for you, maybe Helena is the one you need to make amends with.”
I pull away from Malcolm to look up at him. I’m about to ask him if he’s serious, but I can see for myself that he’s dead serious.
“Do you think that would work?” I ask, considering his suggestion. In times of desperation, a mother will do anything for her child, and right now I’m willing to do whatever it takes, even if that means making Hell herself my best friend.
“I think it’s at least worth trying,” he replies. “If you can find a way to make her stop hating you, maybe that will be enough to change the way Liana reacts to you.”
I wipe my tears away because my husband has opened a door of opportunity for me that I hadn’t considered before.
“I can try,” I say as I cling to the only hope I have of saving my baby girl. “I mean, I don’t know if it’ll work, but I can try.”
