There was a long silence. Xavier’s heart, which had been racing just minutes before, seemed to slow down and thud like a pound of concrete in his chest. But when he opened his mouth to speak, he didn’t betray a hint of emotion.
“I don’t believe you,” he said in a level voice.
“Had a feeling you might say that,” Diego replied, his smiling face framed by dark curls. He reached behind him and produced a rough burlap sack. “So I brought along some evidence.”
From the sack he withdrew something feathered and folded. When he shook it loose I saw it was a section of broken, blood-stained wings. My wings. “You can have this as a keepsake if you like,” he said. What he held up was twisted and bent and the blood had congealed in parts causing the feathers to stick together. Diego waved it like a fan and droplets of blood spattered onto the floor. I saw Xavier draw a sharp intake of breath and lean forward as if someone had punched him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. His turquoise eyes darkened, like clouds rolling across sky and blotting out the sun.
“Hellhounds,” said Diego, nodding his head in commiseration. “At least it was quick.”
“Don’t listen to him!” I cried, but my words were lost in the void that separated us. The desire to be with him filled me so strongly that I thought I would explode through the confines of my spectral form.
At that moment the door burst open and my brother and sister appeared. For the first time, a look of true fear flashed across Diego’s face. I guessed he hadn’t counted on running into them.
“Did you think we wouldn’t pick up your scent?” Gabriel asked, his voice drenched with anger. His eyes fell on Xavier’s face and then the mangled, bloody wings that Diego’s had dropped on the ground. Ivy saw them too and an expression of disgust settled on her face.
“You really are the lowest of the low,” she said.
“I try my best,” Diego said, chuckling.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” Xavier said, his voice choked.
“Nothing but cheap tricks,” Gabriel replied, kicking the wings aside, as though they were a theater prop.
Xavier let out a low moan of relief and pressed his back against the wall. I knew how he felt. When I thought Jake had run him down with the motorcycle, the grief had been crippling and the relief made me giddy.
“What are you doing here?” Gabriel demanded.
Diego stuck his bottom lip out in a mock pout. “Just trying to have a little fun. Humans are so gullible—dumb beasts.”
“Not as dumb as you,” Ivy said, while Gabriel moved to position himself on Diego’s right-hand side, pinning him between the wall and the doorway. “Looks like you’ve got yourself trapped.”
“A bit like that little angel of yours,” Diego snarled, though I could tell by the way he curled his fingers that he was nervous. “She’s trapped in the pit burning as we speak and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“We’ll see about that,” Gabriel said.
“We know you’re trying to find a portal.” Diego’s attempts to stall or distract them were poorly disguised. “You’ll never find it and if you do, good luck getting it open.”
“Do not underestimate the power of Heaven,” Ivy said.
“Oh, I think Heaven has forsaken Bethany by now. Have you considered that our daddy may be stronger than yours?”
Ivy looked up and a hot blue fire seemed to blaze in her usually cool gray eyes. She raised her chin to match her opponent. She opened her mouth and a language flowed out that sounded high and sweet like a hundred children singing or wind chimes in the summer breeze. The air around her started to shimmer, like heat rising off the pavement. Then, without speaking, she thrust her hand out toward him. To my shock, her hand disappeared straight into his chest, as though he were made of nothing but clay. Diego seemed just as surprised as I was and grunted loudly. Something began to glow in his chest and I realized that Ivy was literally gripping his heart. The light shone brighter, making his skin papery and transparent. I could see the outline of his rib cage and Ivy’s hand, encasing his heart in a scalding prison of light. Diego seemed to be completely paralyzed, but he managed to open his mouth and let out a strangled scream. Through the screen his chest had become, I saw the heart begin to swell and pulse in Ivy’s hand, as if it were going to rupture. Then with a pop, like a bursting balloon, it disintegrated and Diego vanished in a flash of light.
Ivy drew a deep, shuddering breath and then brushed her hands together as though she had touched something contaminated.
“Demons,” she muttered.
The noise of the explosion woke Molly, who sat upright, scrambling to smooth down her curls.
“Huh … what … what’s going on?” she mumbled, her voice slurry. I was amazed that she’d managed to sleep through the drama.
“Nothing,” Gabriel said quickly. “Go back to sleep. We just came in to check on you.”
“Oh.” Molly stared at him wistfully for a moment before remembering the events of the previous night. Then her face darkened and she turned her back, wriggling down under the covers.
Gabriel sighed and shrugged at Ivy while Xavier picked up the car keys on the bedside table.
“Uh … thanks for taking care of that,” he said. “If it’s all right I’m gonna go for a drive. I need to clear my head.”
I followed him, eager for us to spend some time alone, even if he didn’t know I was there.
“Hey, baby.” He patted the hood of the Chevy out in the parking lot and gave a sad smile. “Things are getting pretty crazy, hey?”
I slid into the passenger seat as Xavier started the familiar purring engine and pulled out onto the highway. His body seemed to relax behind the wheel of the car, flowing more easily. He looked so beautiful with the worry wiped from his face. I could stare at him for hours—his strong arms, the outline of his sculpted chest, his hair falling across his eyes, strands glowing golden in the predawn light. His brilliant turquoise eyes were half closed as he let the Chevy leach the tension from his body. His foot nudged the accelerator and the car responded with an obedient growl. Xavier never drove fast with me in the car; he was too conscious of my safety. But in this moment he was completely free and I knew he needed this time to himself in order to regroup. The car glided around a bend in the road, shadowed by the cedar trees that lined the highway. Up ahead the left side of the road fell away, with nothing but jagged cliffs below. Picking up speed on the open road, Xavier rolled down his window and flicked the radio on. The station was playing the biggest hits of the eighties and the chords of “Livin’ on a Prayer” rang out into the air. The song about a couple whose struggle to survive hard times was especially relevant to us.
We’ve got to hold on, ready or not
You live for the fight when it’s all that you’ve got.
Xavier’s mood seemed to lift a little as he mouthed the words and tapped the steering wheel in time with the beat. But outside, an unnatural wind was blowing up, scattering leaves across the highway and down the cliffs on the opposite side. I knew something was wrong—the presence of evil had followed us. I had to warn Xavier to go back. It wasn’t safe for him out here alone. He needed to be close to Ivy and Gabriel so they could protect him. But how could I let him know that?
When the song ended an idea suddenly hit me. I focused my energy and used it to interfere with the radio frequency. The sound broke up until it was just an irritating hum. Xavier frowned and fiddled with the dials, trying to tune the channel. I concentrated on gathering my strength and called out his name. Then out of the blue it was my voice he heard crackling through the speakers.
“Turn back, Xavier! You’re not safe out here. Find Ivy and Gabriel. Stay with them. Jake is coming.”
The shock of hearing my voice almost caused Xavier to swerve the car off the road. He recovered in time and slammed on the brakes. The Chevy screamed to a halt in the middle of the deserted road.
“Beth? Is that you? Where are you? Can you hear me?”
“Okay,” Xavier said. “I do. Just keep talking.”
Xavier shifted the car into gear and made a U-turn. I breathed a little easier as I sat curled in the passenger seat with my knees up. Once he was back at the motel he would pass my message on to Ivy and Gabriel and they’d know what to do. As Xavier drove my attention was drawn to the discarded gum wrappers and an empty soda can on the car floor. It was so unlike him—he was usually obsessive about car maintenance. I remembered once how the new GPS he’d installed in the Chevy had left a ring on the windshield. It bothered him so much that he dragged us to the auto shop to find a plastic holder to stick on the dashboard. The memory made me smile.
“Beth, you still here?” Tapping into the radio waves had left me drained, but I summoned whatever remnants of energy I had left to create friction in my fingertips, which I ran lightly over his cheek, a feather-soft caress. I saw the hairs on his arms stand on end.
“Do that again.” Xavier smiled.
We weren’t far now from the Easy Stay Inn. The landscape was becoming more familiar and we had almost left the sharp cliffs behind. I had just given myself permission to breathe easy when something unexpected happened. The Chevy lurched and then accelerated straight past the turnoff, leaving the low rectangular façade of the motel behind.
“What the hell?” Xavier looked around. “Beth, what’s going on?”
The car seemed to take on a crazed purpose of its own. Xavier’s foot slammed repeatedly on the brakes, but they refused to respond. The steering wheel was locked. I slid over to the driver’s side to help him but my attempts to will the car to stop were in vain. Suddenly, I glanced up and saw in the rearview mirror two eyes like glowing embers staring from the backseat.
“Don’t do this, Jake!” I pleaded. The car was now veering crazily from one side of the road to the other. Xavier’s efforts to steer it back on course were futile. The car continued to crash forward, branches lashing out across the windshield, stones crunching under the wheels.
My heart stopped when I saw what we were heading for. Jake was maneuvering the car away from the woodland and toward the rocky escarpment. A couple of times the Chevy teetered so close to the edge I was sure it would tumble right over and smash against the cliffs. Dust rose in clouds impairing Xavier’s vision, but there wasn’t much he could do other than press his back against the seat and wrestle ineffectually with the wheel.
I turned and saw Jake sitting calmly in the back. He was smoking a French cigarette and blowing smoke rings out the window.
He was playing a game with us.
30
Guardian Angels
“STOP!” I begged Jake. “Please stop!”
The accelerator hit the floor and the car lurched drunkenly as if it were being steered by a blind man. The cliffs fell sharply away to the right and there was nothing but a fine metal railing separating the road from the devastating drop. I needed to manifest—even if only to tell Xavier what was happening, to see if there was some way I could get him safely out of the car. But fear crippled my concentration. It’d require every scrap of energy I had left to appear to him and even then I wasn’t sure I could do it.
Suddenly I caught sight of his hands gripping the steering wheel. I saw my promise ring and the trademark leather wristband he always wore. I knew the feel of both by heart. Those hands had held mine so many times; they had comforted me, fought for me, protected me, and anchored me to the world of the living. I remembered the moment I first saw Xavier sitting on the pier. He’d looked up at me, the light of the setting sun picking up the golden strands in his honey brown hair. I remembered thinking his eyes held so much depth. I’d wondered then who he was and what he was like, not expecting I’d ever see him again. The memories flooded back to me. The two of us sharing chocolate cake in a booth at Sweethearts—he’d looked at me as though I were a puzzle he was determined to solve. I remembered the way his voice deepened when he was roused from sleep, the way his lips felt against the back of my neck. I remembered his smell, his fresh clean scent like the woods on a summer day. I remembered the way the crucifix around his neck glinted when the moonlight caught it. I knew everything about him and every little detail was sacred to me. I realized then that our subliminal connection could transcend any physical barrier.
Without any warning I manifested right there in the passenger seat. Xavier nearly yelled out in shock, and his ocean eyes widened while Jake pushed his face between the two front seats.
“Hello, darling,” he said darkly. “Thought I’d find you here. Bit of car trouble I see.”
“Beth,” Xavier whispered. “What’s happening?”
I realized suddenly that he couldn’t see Jake. He had no idea what was going on.
“It’s okay,” I told him. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Beth, I can’t do this much longer.” His voice almost broke. “Where are you? I don’t know what to believe anymore and I need to get you back.”
“Oh, boo hoo!” Jake whined from the backseat. “She’s mine now, tough break.”
“Shut up!” I snapped and Xavier looked surprised. “Not you,” I clarified quickly. “Jake’s here with us.”
“What?” Xavier swung around, but to him the backseat looked empty.
“Just trust me,” I said as the Chevy lurched violently close to the edge of the cliff. Xavier gasped and lifted an arm to shield his face, expecting a collision, but the car swung back onto the road at the last minute.
“Xavier,” I said. “Look at me.”
I didn’t know how much time we had together, but I needed to let him know he wasn’t alone. A familiar Bible verse floated into my head. It was an old favorite of mine and came from Genesis 31. It spoke about the Mizpah, the Meeting Place. It was a place that could be anywhere and nowhere at the same time. A place that didn’t exist in this dimension but held more power than anyone could understand. It was a place where a reunion of spirit could occur without any physical presence. I remembered the day at Bryce Hamilton when I’d run into Xavier’s arms, terrified that one day we’d be separated. The words from that afternoon came back to me clear as day: “Let’s create a place. A place that’s just ours; a place we can always find each other if things ever go wrong.”
“Do you remember the white place?” I whispered urgently.
Xavier’s body unclenched a little as he looked directly at me. “Of course,” he murmured.
“Then close your eyes and go there,” I whispered. “I’ll be waiting for you. And don’t forget … it is only space that separates us.”
Xavier drew a deep breath and in his eyes I saw an understanding that hadn’t been there before. He closed his eyes, let go of the steering wheel, and sat very still.
I heard Jake’s harsh voice from the backseat. “I’ve had just about enough of this sentimental crap for one day.”
“Listen …” I whipped around to try and reason with him, but it was too late. I felt a sickening jolt in my stomach as the Chevy skidded to the side of the road, smashed through the flimsy iron railing as if it were made of matchsticks, and plummeted over the cliff face.
“No!” I screamed.
Xavier didn’t react. He was still in the white place, indifferent to whether he would live or die.
I watched the Chevy plunge over the cliff in what seemed like slow motion. I heard a sickening metallic screech as the underbelly of the car scraped across the rock ledge. It seemed to teeter for a moment; its body tilting precariously as it balanced on the edge. Then gravity took over and with a deep shudder and a cloud of dust, the car fell. At the sight of it, nearby birds squawked and fled the trees, vanishing into the sky as they sounded their warning. I saw Xavier’s body get thrown forward and collide with the steering wheel. The moment seemed to last for the longest time. My vision tunneled and I noticed the strangest things. The sunlight through the windshield hit Xavi
er’s hair, making the strands glow copper and gold. Xavier’s hair had always been a soft shade of brown like honey or walnuts, but today, in this moment, I could have sworn he wore a halo of golden light. Xavier had made no effort to protect himself. Anyone else would have thrown his hands up to shield himself, but Xavier remained unnaturally calm and still. He showed no signs of panic, as if he were resigned to accept his fate. When his hair shifted out of the way, I caught sight of his face and it struck me how young he looked. I could see in him the schoolboy he would have been not so many years ago. His skin was smooth and unmarked, without even a wrinkle to mark his years on earth. He’s hardly lived, I thought to myself. There were so many things he could have been, and now he’d never get the chance to really grow up … to be a husband … to be a father … to make a difference in the world.
I realized then that I was screaming, screaming loud enough for all the town to hear me, but nobody did. The Chevy was still nosediving toward the rocks below where it would smash and crumple like tinfoil. I’d never felt more powerless in my entire life. My body was still imprisoned deep underground in Hades and my soul was trapped between the dimensions. But as I caught sight of Jake’s smirking face in the rearview mirror, I realized I wasn’t as powerless as I thought. I spun around and grabbed him by both wrists. He looked surprised, but didn’t shake me off.
“Don’t hurt him,” I pleaded. “I’ll do whatever you want. Name your terms.”
“Is that so?” Jake smiled. “A trade … how interesting.”
“This isn’t the time for games!” I begged. The car was only seconds from the rocks and dusty ground below. “If Xavier dies, I’ll never forgive you! Please … let’s make a deal.”
“Okay,” Jake said. “I’ll spare his life in exchange for you granting me one wish.”
Hades Page 30
