by T. R. Hamby
He was sharply reminded of Lilith, and anger burned in his stomach.
He took a steadying breath, and said, No.
There was a long pause.
Then Father said, You know what to do.
Yes, he did.
He got up and dressed. It was raining hard, but Gilla was still passed out in bed, too exhausted to be woken by the noise. He checked on Mel, who was also still asleep, and then he checked on Gabriel and Barry.
Barry was sleeping, but Gabriel was not. He got out of bed, threw on a shirt and followed his father out into the living room.
“How are you, Mica?” Gabriel whispered as they sat at the table.
Michael opened his laptop, and his hands shook a little.
No. If he gave in, then he would break down, and they would all be in trouble.
“Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “Father spoke to me. We have a new assignment.”
“Fucking Christ.”
“No point arguing,” Michael replied vaguely, tapping “Blanchardstown” into the search engine.
Several articles popped up, and Gabriel scooted his chair over so he could see.
“Fuck, I’m still learning spelling,” he said bitterly, and Michael shushed him.
The articles were foreboding:
SEARCH CONTINUES FOR BLANCHARDSTOWN PROWLER; TOTAL OF SEVEN WOMEN NOW REPORTED ASSAULTED
SUSPICIOUS DEATH OF 30-YEAR-OLD WOMAN NOW CONSIDERED WORK OF BLANCHARDSTOWN SERIAL STALKER
Gabriel listened as Michael read one of the articles aloud.
Gabriel sighed. “He’ll be trying again soon. Tonight. We have to patrol the area.”
Michael ran a hand through his hair. All he could think about was Nora, trapped in that fucking basement, alone and scared and probably hopeless….
Gabriel grasped his shoulder, and Michael took a shuddering breath. “It’s all right, Mica. You and Mel focus on Nora. Barry and I can handle this.”
“You’re sure?” Michael asked, unable to help himself.
Gabriel was patient. “Don’t worry about it.”
He nodded shakily. Gabriel was right. He and Barry were more than capable of finding this Angel. They were both Immortal, after all, and both had Talents, too.
He looked at him. “How is Barry?”
Gabriel looked a little surprised by the question. He shrugged. “He’s all right.”
He hesitated, then said, “Had a craving last night.”
Michael frowned. “Those are rough, I imagine.”
He nodded darkly. “Yeah. He’s stressed. He’s having dark thoughts; I can tell.”
Michael felt a pang. He wasn't particularly close with Barry, though he was definitely fond of him. The stress of all that was happening was hard on everyone.
“How is he doing with--Them?” he said quietly.
Gabriel studied the table, his jaw working. “Not bad,” he replied. “I think she soothes him. She might be the only good thing for him right now.”
“Besides you,” Michael said firmly, and he shrugged and nodded.
“Just want to do more,” he muttered under his breath.
“You’re doing far more than you realize,” Michael said, and just then Barry himself burst out of their bedroom, still in only a pair of sweats.
“She found something,” he said loudly.
Michael and Gabriel sprang to their feet.
“Go wake your uncle,” Michael told him, and he burst into the bedroom he shared with Gilla.
He was nearly frantic, his heart pounding, but he made sure to be gentle as he shook her awake.
When she was awake they ran back out to the living room. Mel and Gabriel had returned, too. Mel was also in just a pair of sweatpants, rubbing his eyes and staring at Barry intently.
Barry was looking up slightly, clearly listening, his blue eyes shining.
“She says….she was able to see better this time….he’s letting her out of the basement now….she’s still all right, hasn’t touched her….she saw a sign,” he suddenly breathed. “Walsh.”
Michael went to his laptop and typed in the town name.
Seven hits. He swore.
“Which one is closest?” Mel asked, leaning over so he could see.
Michael heaved a sigh, pointing. “This one, in Kildare. About an hour away.”
“Private flight?”
“We can’t get anything in this weather,” Michael said, as the rain rapped against the windows.
“Did she see anything else?” Gilla asked anxiously.
Barry listened. “She followed them on a--really? On a trip to the store,” he said incredulously. “That’s where she saw the sign. But there weren’t any houses or buildings along the way. It was just hills.”
“Rural,” Mel murmured under his breath.
“She says the house is definitely stone,” Barry continued, his words stilted as he listened and spoke at the same time. “He--”
But he stopped, a little pale, and cleared his throat.
“What?” Mel breathed.
“Nothing. It’s not--”
“What?”
“He was just holding her hand,” Barry sighed, looking sickened.
Michael shivered, and Mel turned away. Lilith’s necklace gleamed on his chest, and Michael wondered, with a horrible jolt, if he would soon be adding Nora’s ruby necklace to the arrangement.
No. Don’t think that. Don’t.
“Why won’t she Call?” Gilla asked, almost desperately.
Barry listened. His jaw tensed, and he looked a mixture of horrified and furious.
When he didn’t reply Mel turned. “Go on,” he said dangerously.
Barry looked away, his hands balled into fists. “He has a Talent,” he murmured. “He can….cause pain….really bad pain. She says he’s threatened to hurt you if you answer Nora’s Call.”
There was a silence. Michael felt sick, and Mel looked unsteady.
“Did he use it on her when he took her?” Mel whispered.
Barry listened. He sighed. “She doesn’t know. She didn’t see that, remember? She was watching you.”
Another pause.
“So Mel and I will go,” Michael said firmly. “And Gilla. And Gabriel and Barry will stay here and find that Angel.”
“What Angel?” Mel breathed dangerously.
The air cooled, but Michael ignored it. He and Gabriel filled them in on the Angel making his rounds in Blanchardstown.
Mel looked livid, but it was Barry who spoke. “I need to go with you,” he said, looking from Michael to Mel.
“Why?” Mel snapped, impatient.
Barry looked a little stung, but replied, “She’s going to keep searching, and she needs me in order to communicate with you. S’pose we can do it over the phone, but--”
“No, you’re coming with us,” Michael said.
There was no way he was going to leave their direct line of communication with Them behind in Dublin.
Barry nodded, avoiding Mel’s eyes. Gabriel, conversely, was staring daggers at his uncle, who looked a little ashamed.
Gilla spoke then. “I’ll stay and help with the Angel.”
Michael felt a pang. He didn’t want to be separated from her. But he knew she was right--it wasn’t practical to leave Gabriel to tackle the Angel alone. If everything went to shit, he would have no one.
None of them looked happy, but it was decided.
Gilla helped Michael pack a few things, including a Blade. Then she threw her arms around him. He held her, taking in her scent, the feel of her body. He was sharply reminded of when they first met--how he had charmed her with his Swedish, and how she had laughed that gorgeous laugh.
“I love you,” he said, murmuring in her ear.
She chuckled--how good it was to hear that sound again.
“I love you too,” she replied, pulling away. “Go get our girl.”
Roone
They were running low on food, and he didn’t want Nora to go hungry. So
once she was awake and dressed they began to walk.
“It’s only a mile,” he reassured her as she hugged herself against the cold.
He didn’t tell her that the reason the car was in a garage a mile away was so she couldn’t drive away in it. He couldn’t catch her in a car.
The past twenty-four hours had gone well, very well. At first it had seemed like Nora wouldn’t warm up to him at all, that it had all been for nothing. But slowly she had softened. Now they talked to each other freely--they asked about family, friends, childhoods. Nora had a sister who she didn’t speak to. She missed her opera career, but she still sang in the shower. She loved to decorate houses, and wished she could make a business out of it.
“What do you do?” she asked, swinging her arms to get the blood flowing.
Roone smiled, pleased by her attention. “I’ve done all sorts of things. I was a merchant, mostly. These days I have too much money to do anything. I like going to the theater and the opera. That’s where I first saw you.”
She kept her eyes on the road, and for a moment he worried that she was upset again. But then she looked at him and smiled, and he grinned, happy.
She slipped on a patch of mud, and this time he took her arm, steadying her.
She let out a laugh. “Thank you,” she said, smiling at him again.
Roone was so encouraged that, before she could move away, he reached down and took her hand.
She flinched, and his heart dropped. But she shook herself, and gave him a small smile.
He let out a breath, and they began to walk again.
One step at a time, he told himself. They were getting there. She would see.
They held hands as he drove. He didn’t like it, but he wasn’t comfortable with her seeing the way to the store yet, so he blindfolded her. Nora leaned back in the seat, her soft hand in his, and they drove in contented silence.
He was afraid she would try to run once they got to the store, or scream at the attendant once they entered. But she was quiet, and only looked around with mild interest as they shopped. She asked for a pint of ice cream. There was a beat-up old game of Scrabble in the corner, and she asked for that too.
Roone found this endearing, and he gladly allowed her to add the items to the cart.
It was perfect, more perfect than he had expected, just shopping with her. One of the most mundane tasks on the planet, made magical by her mere presence. She smiled when she caught him looking at her, and giggled when he blushed. It was like they were kids.
“Have you thought about redecorating?” she asked as they put the groceries away back home.
Roone was bemused. “No, to be honest. I only just got this house.”
She was quiet for a moment, and he guessed that she was realizing he had gotten this house for her.
But she said, casually, “It has a farmhouse aesthetic that I like. But the wallpaper is peeling, and the sink is all rusted. And there are parts of the flooring that look ready to rot.”
He looked at her. She was studying the wood floor, carefully testing a spot with her foot, a frown on her face. It was a lovely sight--an amusing one--and he smiled fondly.
“We can, if you want,” he said quietly.
She looked up at him. She studied him for a moment, and then smiled. “Yeah.”
He imagined them redoing the house, ripping up floorboards and sticking on new wallpaper. Trips to the store, late nights hammering and painting. Ice cream breaks, flirtatious looks, touches. He longed to touch her again, and he wondered when she would let him.
“Do you want some ice cream?” she asked, waking him from his thoughts.
They sat at the table and, to his surprise, shared from the carton. Nora set up the Scrabble board. Neither of them remembered how to play, and the old box was missing the instructions. So they made up their own rules. Roone would mix the letters around when her back was turned, and she would whirl around and smack his hand away, chiding him teasingly. He wasn’t the best at spelling, and she would tease him for that too.
“‘Ageless’ is spelled with an E, not an I,” Nora said patiently.
Roone flushed again, and reached into the bag containing the tiles. Nora held it open for him, and her fingers brushed against his wrist.
He froze. His sleeve had rolled back, and his scars were showing. He could feel Nora staring as he tugged his sleeve all the way up to his hand.
They were quiet a moment. It was still Roone’s turn, according to the rules they had made up. He stared at the tiles, not really seeing them. He could still feel Nora staring at him.
He glanced at her. “I’d rather not.”
“That’s hardly fair,” Nora replied.
He looked up, frowning, and she continued, “You kept your true intentions from me for weeks, even though we met a couple times. Even though we slept together. Now I’m here, and there are more things you’re hiding.”
He felt a surge of indignation. “I’m not hiding anything. I just….don’t want to talk about it,” he finished lamely.
She played with one of the tiles, looking thoughtful.
Roone looked down at the board. It was very painful to remember his childhood, let alone speak about it. He wasn’t sure she would understand, as smart as she was. No one did.
He decided on “snow,” and put the tiles down. One word he could spell correctly.
Nora considered the board for a moment. Then she said, softly, “You know my dad died.”
Roone frowned. “Yes.”
“I was twenty. It was very sudden. I didn’t get to say goodbye.”
She paused, took a deep breath. She had a tile in her fingers that she was turning over and over. “I had a break from reality. I was inconsolable….and then I heard voices, saw shadows. I had to be committed. And after that….I don’t know if it triggered it or what….but I was just….depressed. All the time.”
Roone listened, horrified. Nora’s eyes were shining with tears, and her voice was shaky. “It got really bad, and I ended up in the hospital again. Now I have to be on….”
But she froze, her eyes wide. “Oh my god. My medication. Shit, shit!”
Roone felt his heart drop. “What is it? What do you need?”
She began to cry. “Oh god….I need my meds, Roone….I’ll go crazy again….please, Roone….”
Roone’s heart ached, and he came around the table and knelt beside her. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he said soothingly, though he was shaking with worry. “Tell me what you take. I’ll get it.”
“How? We’re in the middle of nowhere!”
“I have money, remember? And a smartphone. A couple calls and they’ll be waiting at the chemist. You’ll have them tonight. I promise.”
She was taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. Her face crumpled, and she wiped at the tears on her cheeks.
“Please, Roone,” she whispered. “I don’t care what you do to me….just please don’t let me get sick again….please….I don’t want to go back there….”
Roone shushed her, and very carefully slipped his arms around her. She was shaking, and she buried her head in his shoulder.
Christ. He hadn’t realized….hadn’t known. God, Nora.
She went to lie down, and Roone spent the next hour making some calls.
By late afternoon the scripts had been sent, so Roone and Nora drove to the larger store in town, the one with a chemist.
“You won’t send me back there, will you?” Nora whispered.
She was crying quietly, brushing at the tears that slipped past her blindfold.
Roone felt a strong pain in his chest, and he touched her hand. “No, of course not.”
“You think I’m perfect, but I’m not,” she moaned. “I’m fucked up.”
Roone shushed her. It was all he could think to do.
They had to wait for her prescription to be filled. Roone held her hand and took her around the store. They looked at the goldfish in the pet section, and then strolled through the toy ai
sle. Nora caught sight of a row of dolls, and examined one with curly blonde hair. For whatever reason the doll seemed to calm her, so after they got her medications, they stopped by a register and bought it.
They got home. Nora took her medicine, including a Xanax, and looked instantly relieved. She removed the doll from its box and admired it.
Roone was gentle. “Are you….um….going to name her?”
Nora flushed, but nodded. “Wendy. It was my mother’s name.”
She went to lie down again, and Roone cleared up the board game. He felt very strange, after all that. He knew Nora was still upset, even terrified, of being separated from Melkira. But she had been hysterical about her medications….just hysterical. It had been difficult to see.
He could have kicked himself. He had watched her for years, and somehow he had managed not to notice anything about her health.
What an idiot.
It was getting late now, but he still made her a sandwich. He went downstairs, and found her lying face up on the bed, clutching the doll and staring calmly at the ceiling.
She looked at him as he approached the bed. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he replied, heartened by her greeting. “Are you hungry?”
She shook her head. “No. Thank you.”
Roone nodded soberly. He set the plate on the end table just in case.
“How do you feel?” he asked cautiously.
She took a deep breath and sighed. “The Xanax is working.”
“Good.”
There was a pause. Nora stroked the doll’s curls, staring dully at the ceiling.
Roone didn’t like seeing her like this. But he knew it was all his fault, and he was repulsed by himself.
He took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. This is my fault….I didn’t….bother to find out if you were on medication. I’m sorry--I’m an idiot. I should have….thought of it.”
She looked at him. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “You didn’t know.”
“It’s not okay. I could’ve hurt you.”
Nora studied him, an odd look on her face. Then she patted the space beside her. “You can….hang out with me. If you want.”
Roone felt a surge of relief. He went around the bed and lay down, careful not to jostle her.
They lay there for a while, quiet. Nora held the doll to her chest, and its curls tangled with her own. Roone tried not to stare at her. He looked upwards instead, and found dark thoughts and horrible memories waiting for him.
