by SJ West
“Would you prefer I phase you to my room or walk you up there?” Xavier asks.
“I would rather you walked me up,” I say without explaining why, and he doesn’t ask. He just follows through with my request.
As we walk out of the room, I find myself studying Xavier’s profile. It’s amazing how exact every detail about him is to my Malcolm. From his naturally arching black eyebrows to his chiseled chin, all of his features look identical.
I am glad he didn’t question why I wanted him to carry me to his room. He may not be my Malcolm, but he’s the closest thing to my husband that I can get to right now. I close my eyes and rest my head against his shoulder, imagining that he is my Malcolm. My eyes begin to burn with tears because my heart misses the special connection he and I share. I hoped allowing Xavier to hold me would lessen the loneliness I feel, but it’s done the exact opposite. I miss my husband even more now and can’t prevent myself from crying over the emptiness I feel inside my heart from his absence.
Even though I openly begin to sob, Xavier remains stalwart in his duty. He doesn’t say a word as he carries me into his room and sets me on a bed that’s already been turned down. He takes off my shoes and tucks my feet underneath the comforter before pulling it up to my waist. I watch him walk into the bathroom attached to this room and walk back out with a box of tissues in his hand. He sits on the side of the bed and angles the box toward me.
“Thank you,” I tell him, plucking out the top tissue from the container and wiping my eyes with it.
“Why are you here, Anna?” Xavier asks in a soft, undemanding voice. “If you’re too tired to tell me, I can go downstairs and ask Jess, but I get the feeling it might do you some good to talk about what’s happening.”
I realize he’s right. Maybe if I discuss things with a complete stranger, I can start to make sense of it all.
“It’s a long story,” I warn him. “In order for you to understand everything, I’ll have to start from the moment Malcolm and I first met.”
“I would actually like to know about that,” Xavier admits, looking slightly embarrassed for being curious about my relationship with his double. “It gives me hope that I’ll meet someone one day, too. I’ve never heard of anyone having a soul mate here, though. Do you think that’s something that only happens in the Origin?”
“I’m not quite sure,” I say, finding it strange that soul mates don’t exist in this reality. “My father or Jess might know the answer to that question.”
“It’s not important,” Xavier says, but I can tell from the expression on his face that it’s important to him, even if he protests that it isn’t. “Tell me how you and Malcolm met. How did he convince you to fall in love with him?”
I have to laugh at that. “It was totally the other way around,” I admit. “I had to do everything I could to make him realize he couldn’t live without me.”
“He refused you?” he asks incredulously. “And here I thought Malcolm was smarter than that.”
“He was just being stubborn and trying to do the noble thing instead of the right one.”
“Then tell me your love story. I would like to know how it all started.”
As I tell Xavier how Malcolm and I found each other, I realize what an extraordinary life we’ve led so far. The love he and I share has transcended time and space. This detour in our lives is just a small part of our story—one that will be passed down from generation to generation. I have no doubt whatsoever that we’ll be reunited soon, and when we are, I vow nothing will separate us from one another again.
Chapter 15
(Helena’s Point of View)
Well … that smarted.
I remember when Lucifer made the trip to alternate Earth. He complained about the discomfort he felt traveling back and forth between realities. Now that I have a body of my own, I fully understand what he was talking about.
I find myself standing in an alleyway between two glass-and-steel, five-story buildings. I’m a little surprised by how clean such a space looks. As I recall, Lucifer and Jess were deposited in a similar location when they traveled here. Interesting. I wonder if it’s the same exact spot.
As I look around the area, I notice a pair of pint-sized brown shoes peeking out from behind an automated blue recycling bin. I have a feeling I know who they belong to. As I walk over to see if I’m right in my assumption, I discover an unconscious Lucas lying supine on the concrete. I guess I can see why Anna’s motherly instincts kicked in when Lucas came into her life. He is cute for a miniature human, even though his ability to see the future is immensely annoying.
I turn away from Lucas and walk up the alleyway to the city street. I’m surprised to find a thriving New York City bustling with activity. The streets are filled with hover cars and the sidewalks with people. From Lucifer’s memories, this world was on the cusp of collapse thanks to Lucian and the princes of Hell opening the seals here. They almost succeeded in bringing Hell to Earth. If Gabe hadn’t sacrificed his life to stop them, this world probably wouldn’t exist anymore.
I look back down the alleyway, wondering where the others are, when I notice Lucas’ feet twitch.
I could leave him here to fend for himself. He’s cute. I’m sure someone would help him find his mommy. Considering the change in my luck, he would probably end up running into a serial killer with a penchant for chubby-cheeked children.
With a groan of frustration, I spin on my high heels and march back over to where he is. When I reach him, he’s struggling to maintain his balance as he sits up and rubs his head.
“Wow,” he says, grimacing, “that sure did hurt.”
“Is your body damaged in any particular spot?” I ask curtly.
“No. It’s an all-over kind of hurt.” Lucas tilts his head and looks up at me with only one eye open. He’s still grimacing from the pain he feels when he asks, “Where’s my mom?”
“I’m sorry to say she isn’t here. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me until we can find her and the others.”
“What happened to us?” Lucas asks, slowly standing to his feet. “Where are we? Somewhere in the down-world?”
“Look around us. Does this look like the down-world to you?” I ask sarcastically.
He takes in the well-kept alleyway and modern buildings. “No,” he says, “it’s too clean. Are we in another cloud city?”
“Oh, good grief,” I say in frustration. “We’re on an alternate Earth—the one your father traveled to with Jess. Didn’t he ever tell you about it?”
Lucas shakes his head, looking confused by the concept. “No. He never told me.”
“Figures. He probably didn’t want to scramble your brain with too much information.”
“Why would telling me about this place do that?”
I could tell him the truth. There isn’t anyone here to prevent me from doing it. What would telling him about his first death do to his tiny human brain? I’m honestly not sure. No, I should probably keep the information to myself for now. I might need this kid to get back home. If he goes bonkers trying to cope with the knowledge of a past life, he won’t do any of us any good.
“Listen, kid, right now you and I have one common goal: find the others and get back home. Why don’t we concentrate on working toward that goal together?”
“So, you’re not going to kill me?”
“Why would I kill you? I need you to help us get home. I think it’s going to take all of us to work that small miracle.”
“Then let’s go find them,” Lucas says determinedly. “The sooner I get away from you, the better.”
“You’re a cheeky little thing,” I say, reluctantly finding myself admiring his spunk.
“I don’t like you,” Lucas states with conviction. “I know I’m not supposed to hate people, but if I did, you would be someone I hate.”
“Did your self-righteous parents tell you not to hate people? I can assure you, my little angel, that they have hated plenty of people in their own lives.
It seems a bit hypocritical to place such a restriction on your feelings. You can’t help who you dislike any more than you can choose who you love.”
“Do you love Cade?”
The question catches me off guard. I was hoping to expound upon the merits of hating others, and he had to bring my feelings for Cade into the conversation.
“Why would you ask me that?”
“I’ve heard things,” Lucas says mysteriously.
“And what exactly have you heard?”
“Things,” he says even more vaguely.
“Things …” I muse, wondering if Anna has been negligent in her son’s education and has unconsciously restricted his vocabulary.
“Well, do you love him or not?” Lucas asks more incessantly.
“What business is that of yours?” I ask, wondering if he’s this impertinent with his parents, too.
“Cade’s one of my best friends,” he states as a fact. The fierce look of protectiveness on his face shows me just how loyal he is to him. “I don’t want you to hurt him. I overheard Cade and Ethan talking about how you’re supposed to be his soul mate. If you ask me, I think God made a mistake doing that, but my parents always say He works in mysterious ways. Cade being your soul mate is sure enough mysterious. I just hope God knows what He’s doing.”
“Are you always this opinionated?” I ask, wondering how so much can come out of someone so small.
“My dad told me I should always speak my mind.”
“Did he also tell you that children should be seen and not heard?”
“No …” Lucas looks offended by my question.
“It’s something that’s worked for centuries. I suggest you try it while you’re with me.”
“You said you weren’t going to kill me,” Lucas says suspiciously. “Have you already changed your mind?”
“Not yet,” I say cryptically, “but give me time. Peace of mind might sound better than going home if you continue to be argumentative with me.”
“I’m not doing that,” he says defensively. “I’m just saying the truth.”
“Truth is a very subjective thing, my little angel.”
“Can you please stop calling me that?” he asks in aggravation.
“Don’t get your feathers all ruffled, little angel. I’ll stop calling you that if you stop talking about Cade. I don’t want to think about him right now.”
“How come?” he asks with a tilt of his head.
“He’s a distraction I don’t need at the moment,” I say, finally realizing something. “Maybe that’s why God put us together. Maybe He thought Cade would distract me from my mission.”
“What’s your mission?”
The innocent way Lucas makes his inquiry tells me he doesn’t understand the consequences of asking such a question. If anyone else had shown me such impertinence, I probably wouldn’t have hesitated in ripping out their throat.
“That is none of your business,” I inform him. “Now, come along. We need to figure out a way to find everyone else. I’m sure they’re looking for you.”
“My mom will be worried about me,” Lucas says with certainty as he walks up to my side.
“I’m sure she is,” I agree.
I begin to walk down the street with my little angel following along beside me. If anyone had told me I would become Lucas’ babysitter, I would have laughed in his or her face. Lucas was right about one thing, though. Anna is most certainly beside herself with worry about his safety. I have to say the thought brings me a degree of pleasurable satisfaction. It’s nice to have at least one thing to be happy about, given the circumstances.
The city is buzzing with activity, even though it’s nighttime. It must not be that late or most of these people would be in bed by now. I get strange looks from passersby. I look down at my clothing, wondering if there’s something wrong with it, but I don’t see any visible damage to the red dress I’m wearing.
As I study the people on the street, I notice they’re all wearing either muted or monochrome colors. In fact, the brightness of my dress makes me stick out like a sore thumb.
“These people must have lost their sense of style after the Apocalypse,” I mumble more to myself than for Lucas’ benefit, but he hears me anyway.
“Maybe they just don’t like red,” he suggests.
“Why would anyone have an aversion to the color red?”
“How should I know? I’m just a kid.”
“Touché,” I reply, wondering if Lucas could be on to something with his observation. In a weird way, it would make sense if red was banned from use on this world. It could be that the color was outlawed because of Ravan Drake. She did wear it every chance she got, and I’m sure, even after so many generations, they might still associate the color red with her.
“I may need to find some different clothes to wear while we’re here.” I look down and notice for the first time what Lucas is wearing. His white shirt and brown pants don’t seem too out of place here, but my red dress is definitely sending out bad vibes to the crowd of people walking by us.
“Come on. I need to find a clothing store.” I begin to walk across the street when I feel Lucas place his little hand into mine. I look down at him questioningly. “What do you think you’re doing? I thought I told you never to touch me again.”
“I can’t walk across streets without holding an adult’s hand,” he tells me, as if I should have known this bit of information already.
“Just how many rules do your parents make you follow?”
“Lots.”
“Eh, very well,” I say, tightening my grip on him since no visions of the future are unexpectedly popping up inside my mind. “Let’s go. I see some shops on the other side of the street. They should have something I can wear to blend in better here.”
We start to walk across when Lucas brings up a good point.
“Do you have any money?” he asks.
I hadn’t thought about that. Of course, I don’t actually need to pay for anything. I could easily kill the people inside the shop and take whatever I want. It’s not as if I haven’t done something similar before. When we reach the other side of the street, I look down at Lucas. He looks up at me with his innocent doe eyes.
Damn it.
I can’t kill people while he’s watching me. Anna would have a conniption fit if she ever found out I’d tarnished his childhood in such a blatant way. It would be hypocritical of her, though. Considering how many rebellion angels she’s killed in front of him, a few humans shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I know my sister’s odd sense of what’s right and what’s wrong.
“I don’t suppose you have some I could borrow,” I say.
“No. I’ve never had to buy anything for myself.”
“Ahh, yes. I should have known someone as privileged as you doesn’t have to deal with something as petty as money.”
“I’m not privileged,” Lucas says defensively.
“Don’t even try to defend yourself; you know you are. There’s nothing wrong with having rich parents. I can assure you that almost any child living in the down-world would trade places with you in a heartbeat. It’s not your fault your parents spoil you rotten.”
“I’m not spoiled either,” Lucas is quick to inform me. “I always share with others.”
“Eh, your philanthropy is the least of my worries right now,” I say. “How are we going to get enough money to buy me some new clothes?”
“We could put on a show,” Lucas suggests. “I saw a man in New Orleans once make money by singing in Jackson Square.”
“Do I look like a street performer to you?” I ask, inwardly cringing at the idea of public humiliation. “Or has inter-dimensional travel thoroughly scrambled your brain?”
“Do you have a better suggestion?”
“Well, no, but begging is out of the question.”
“Excuse me, miss,” I hear a female say from behind me.
I turn to find a rather plain-looking redhead with pale
skin and freckles dotting both cheeks. She’s wearing a white sleeveless shirt and matching slacks.
“Yes?” I ask as she stands there and continues to gawk at me. Well, in point of fact, she’s not looking at my face. She seems mesmerized by my dress. “Speak up. What do you want?”
“I’m sorry if this sounds forward, but I was wondering if you would be willing to sell your dress to me. I can’t say I’ve ever seen anything like it before. I know some people who would be very interested in purchasing a vintage outfit like yours. This is my store,” she says, turning her head and nodding to the shop we’re standing in front of. Through the window, I can see a plethora of stylish garments for both men and women. The color scheme of the clothing seems to match what everyone else is wearing in the city.
“I tell you what,” I say, “I would be willing to do a trade. You can have this dress in exchange for some clothing from your store.”
“Absolutely!” the woman says excitedly, jumping at my offer.
I look down at Lucas and ask, “Do you have anything in there that would fit him, too?”
“I don’t,” the woman admits, biting her lower lip as she thinks. “But there is a children’s store just up the street. I know the owner personally. I’m sure I can make an arrangement with him for some new clothes. Would you like for me to go there now and pick out some things for your son to choose from?”
I almost tell her that Lucas is not my son, but I think better of it. It might send up a red flag that would hinder our cause.
“Yes. That would save us a great deal of time.”
“Please feel free to take as long as you need to find an outfit you like,” the redhead says. “I’ll be back in a jiffy with some clothes for your boy.”
The woman scurries down the street as Lucas and I enter her shop.
The style of clothing within the store seems to suit me. The dresses are dramatic but not over the top.
I pick up one black dress that’s practically sheer all the way through, except for some strategically placed appliqués.
“What do you think about this one?” I ask Lucas, holding it up in front of me.
