Divinity

by Michelle L. Johnson

  DIVINITY

  Michelle L. Johnson

  Spence City

  © 2014 Michelle L. Johnson

  Sale of the paperback edition of this book without its cover is unauthorized.

  Spencer Hill Press

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  Contact: Spence City, an imprint of Spencer Hill Press, PO Box 247, Contoocook, NH 03229, USA

  Please visit our website at www.spencecity.com

  First Edition: September 2014

  Michelle L. Johnson

  Divinity/by Michelle L. Johnson—01 ed.

  p. cm. Summary:

  Description: A supernatural urban fantasy about a woman who discovers she is half Archangel, and must prepare herself to take her place in the clouds while battling an unknown dark force.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trade-marked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this fiction: AAA, BMW, Cadillac, Chiclets, Dixie cups, Dumpster, Facebook, Google Earth, Plexiglas, Ronald McDonald, Skype

  Cover design by Regina Wamba

  Interior layout by Errick A. Nunnally

  978-1-939392-35-0 (paperback)

  978-1-939392-36-7 (e-book)

  Printed in the United States of America

  For Michael, My everything.

  I

  THE picture of the happy family had hung over Julia’s dining room table for years now, and she had no idea who they were. The picture had come with the frame, a nice, hand-carved mahogany frame that complemented her dining set well. From time to time she would feel a pang of loneliness, looking upon the smiling parents with their arms wrapped around their two young children, the youngest of whom resembled Julia.

  Julia smiled. Ever since she’d hung that picture, nobody had asked her the usual troublesome questions about her family. The family she’d never known.

  Perhaps it’s time to take it down, she thought as she sipped her coffee. She could replace it with a nice picture of her and her boyfriend, Alex. That made her smile again. She picked up her small, crumb-covered plate and took it to the kitchen.

  Yes, and a new frame, too. Something lighter, maybe oak. She thought oak would suit Alex. She often thought of him as her strength. Either way, a shopping trip was in order.

  Downtown D. C., here I come. I think I’ll take a taxi. I don’t want to worry about parking.

  Julia ran her fingers through her long, chestnut hair and let it fall back as she scanned the building signs, looking for that cute little camera shop she had seen the other day with Alex. She thought she saw it on the other side of the café on the opposite side of the street, but it was just far enough that she couldn’t make out the sign. She slid her slender frame between an elderly woman and the street sign and waited at the curb for the light to change.

  Coffee sounded like a good idea. Perhaps she’d stop and grab a latte on her way by. The other pedestrians filled the corner by the time the light changed, which made her glad she’d been at the curb early. Jostling her way through a crowd was one of her least favorite things. Her long stride took her across the street quickly, and in less than a minute she stood in front of the café, reading the specials chalkboard.

  The shriek of metal colliding with metal rang in Julia’s ears. She whipped her head around and caught her breath. In the middle of the intersection were the remnants of a compact car, demolished by an oncoming pick-up truck, pieces of both vehicles scattered across the asphalt.

  The truck had collapsed the driver’s door, sending the smaller vehicle through two lanes of downtown D.C. traffic and blocking the intersection. The sound of screeching brakes peeled as traffic came to a halt. Julia’s heart pounded in her ears and she stepped toward the accident. She pushed her way past a gawking woman and into the street.

  Blood coated the shards of glass that had shattered around the skull of the car’s driver, creating a blanket of glass shards over his body. His arm dangled out the window, held by a scrap of tendon, his lifeless fingers reaching toward the street. Smoke seeped from the engine as fluid pooled underneath.

  The driver of the truck stumbled out onto the road as Julia rushed up beside him.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, scanning him.

  The man nodded, his dazed eyes staring at the chaos before him. Julia followed his gaze.

  Flames appeared from under the hood of the car, licking out through the grill and beneath the mangled wipers. Through the smoke, Julia saw something move in the back seat.

  “There’s a baby in there!” Julia cried out. The onlookers stood in place, frozen by panic or fear. “Someone do something!” No time to wait for anyone else, she raced toward the wreck.

  The red-faced, wide-eyed baby’s cries were lost in the commotion. Metal creaked and groaned as the fire burned hotter.

  Julia rounded the car and arrived at the baby’s door, grabbing the handle. It wouldn’t open.

  Yanking on the door again, she turned her head and shouted, “Help me!”

  An explosion blew the hood off and sent Julia staggering backwards. A sharp chunk of metal stopped in mid-air, an inch from her face, and clattered to the ground. Her chin fell to her chest.

  That should have killed me. She felt a chill despite the heat and the adrenaline.

  The baby’s piercing cry drew Julia back. She bolted around to the driver’s side. The rear window was blown out. The fire had burst through the dash and engulfed the fabric of the front seats. Ignoring shouts of warning from the gathering crowd, she climbed in through the window. The flames reached out to engulf her. She stretched across the seat, her stomach clenching at the smell of the driver’s burning flesh. Blocking it out and ignoring the heat of the fire, Julia’s eyes fell on the baby boy, who reached one tiny hand toward her.

  “I’ve got you. You’ll be okay,” Julia said, pressing the button to release the buckle. It was jammed. She grabbed the car-seat straps and pulled. Nothing happened.

  The flames spread into the backseat, surrounded Julia and the baby, then recoiled.

  With a second, more powerful effort, her hands tore through the heavy nylon straps, freeing the infant. She clutched the baby to her chest as she climbed back out of the car, chanting, “The fire won’t hurt you. The fire won’t hurt you.”

  As she turned away from the burning car, a second explosion hit and sent shrapnel everywhere. Julia fell to her knees with her body between the baby and the vehicle. The blast, the debris, and the flames all sped around them, leaving no trace of a burn or other injury on either one of them.

  Julia rose and staggered with the child toward a small, outdoor patio on the corner. The crowd parted to let them pass and Julia collapsed into a chair, clutching the baby to her chest.

  “You’re safe now,” she whispered, stroking the baby’s back. “It’ll be all right.”

  At least, she hoped so. Julia lifted her eyes toward what was left of the burning car, assuming that the baby was now fatherless—just like her. She fought back tears and gripped the child tighter.

  “Did you see that, Martha?” one man whispered. “It was a miracle!”

  The plump woman beside him nodded, fanning herself with a magazine.

  Julia looked from one to the other, and then felt the eyes of the crowd on her.

  “They should both be dead,” a young woman gasped.

  “There’s not a mark on them. That’s impossible!” someone exclaimed.

  They’re right, Julia thought. Both she and
the baby should have been dead. Her mind spun. What had stopped that chunk of metal? Why was she not burned? Why hadn’t the explosion hurt them?

  Julia rocked back and forth, cradling the baby. She looked at the remnants of the car and a chill ran through her. She knew she should not have been able to tear those seatbelts, but at least she could explain that as one of those adrenaline-induced miracles. What she couldn’t explain were the lack of burns, her un-charred clothing, or her very survival. Not in a rational way.

  “Thank you,” she said when someone set a glass of water in front of her. She sloshed water onto the tabletop trying to take a sip.

  “Are you all right?” an elderly woman asked, resting her hand on Julia’s shoulder. “You’re so pale.”

  “I’m fine,” Julia said. She set the glass back down. She was shaking from the inside out. “We need to get this baby to the hospital, though.”

  “They’re on their way, dear. I can hear the sirens.”

  “Would you mind holding him?” Julia’s strength buckled; she felt dizzy. She held the infant toward the old woman, worried she might drop him. “I think I need to catch my breath.”

  “Of course, dear,” she said, all but grabbing the baby from Julia. The woman proceeded to cluck and coo, making silly faces.

  “Thanks.” Julia watched the buzzing crowd eagerly close in around the woman and child. People reached through the throng to touch the infant. Julia overheard the phrase “miracle baby” more than once.

  As soon as she regained some strength, she stood, took a few tentative steps away and stopped to look back. She frowned. The group of people now surrounding the baby—the ones now so concerned for the child—was the same group who had remained immobile during his time of need.

  Julia’s eyes filled with tears as she slipped away.

  Every one of them would have watched him die.

  Julia sat on her patio, swirling the Merlot in her glass. Her unscarred hands mesmerized her. She pulled her gaze away and focused on Alex. Her frown dissolved when his eyes met hers.

  He picked up the bottle and topped off their glasses, kissing her forehead softly before sitting back down beside her. He raised his glass to hers, the delicate ping of crystal chiming as they touched.

  “To surviving,” he said.

  Julia nodded and set her glass down after a sip. She looked at her hands again. She just could not stop looking at them.

  “How did you see the baby through all that smoke and fire?” Alex asked, placing his hand over hers, breaking her trance.

  “I’m not sure. I saw movement in the back. And the shape of the infant seat, maybe. I just knew he was there.” Her eyes flicked back to her hand, enveloped by his, a sensation she had always loved. Today she was too distracted for that. “I don’t know how a lot of things happened.”

  “They’re calling it a miracle on the news. Maybe that’s what it was.” Alex squeezed her hand, leaning toward her. “Hey, are you okay?”

  Julia studied Alex’s face. His concern for her creased the corners of his mouth, but his hazel eyes held only love for her. She smiled and brushed a blond curl from his forehead with her other hand. Alex had the softest curls she’d ever felt.

  “I’m fine, really. I just…” Her voice trailed off.

  She didn’t know how to explain all the things she was feeling. She was worried about the baby. What had happened, or rather what had not happened, astounded her. No injury. No burns. The response of the crowd confused her, each of them choosing their own safety over the life of an infant. All that aside, no matter how much the “miracle” disturbed her, there was one thing that she found even more disconcerting. The moment when the metal hurled toward her forehead, the second before it fell to the ground, she had wanted to live. Really wanted to live—enough to be terrified of dying—for the first time in her life. She couldn’t seem to find the words to explain it to Alex.

  “I was afraid, Alex.”

  He laid his palm against her cheek, brushing a stray tear away with his thumb. His voice crackled hoarsely when he spoke. “Do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

  “You’re happy that I was afraid?” Julia searched his eyes. Perhaps he had lost his mind.

  “Julia,” he said, his eyes moistening, “you were afraid because you wanted to live.”

  “Don’t cry, Alex. I’ll lose it if you cry,” she said, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his hand. She took a deep breath. “I’ve come a long way in a year, I guess.”

  “We have,” he corrected her.

  They sat in silence, holding hands and sipping wine, and the weight lifted from Julia’s shoulders for a while, until Alex sat back. He ran his fingers through his soft curls in that way he always did when he was going to say something he wasn’t sure Julia would like.

  “What is it?” Julia asked.

  “It’s just…” Alex pulled his chair closer. “Why weren’t you and the baby burned?”

  “I don’t know,” Julia said, her eyes falling once again to her unmarred skin.

  “A miracle.” Alex shivered.

  “I’m just glad they don’t know who I am.” Julia took a long drink of her wine, and then added with a laugh, “Did you see the sketch?”

  “Don’t worry, it looks nothing like you. Seems everyone was so focused on the baby, nobody got a good look at you.” Alex chuckled. “Do you think the baby’s okay?”

  “I’m sure he will be. He didn’t even suffer a heat blister.” She looked away, thinking back to the explosion. When the second blast hit, the only thing she felt was a light, cool breeze surrounding her—almost shielding her. She was not about to tell anyone that, not even Alex; they would think she was crazy.

  “Let’s change the subject,” she said with a playful smile. “Are you going to tell me? What is the ‘secret project’ you’ve been working on for the past few weeks?”

  Alex laughed, reaching across the table to hold her hand. “If I told you that, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

  Julia smiled. She always enjoyed Alex’s touch, yet she couldn’t help but look at her hand once more, knowing that it should have been untouchable, blistered and burned beyond recognition.

  Gabriel stepped up beside Michael, plumes of cloud lifting and swirling away with every footfall. Side by side, they had nearly identical wings and long, flowing white robes, but those were the only things similar about the two. Gabriel’s short, straight blond hair made Michael’s seem even darker, with soft brown curls resting on his shoulders. And though Gabriel wasn’t pale, standing beside Michael’s dark-skinned form made him seem so. “Michael.”

  “Gabriel,” Michael greeted him. “Did you witness what she has done?”

  The two Archangels peered through the clouds to the Earth below. “You are referring to the accident? The rescue of the baby?”

  “I am.”

  “Yes, I did,” Gabriel said. “Though I am not sure how she was able to protect herself in that way.”

  “She is beginning to find herself, Gabriel. She will need guidance.”

  Gabriel’s wings tensed and a frown creased his face. “Guidance from whom?”

  Michael turned to face him. They stood for a moment, gazes locked on one another, Gabriel’s steel-blue eyes with their strange brown flecks staring into Michael’s deep, dark brown eyes. The tips of their wings disappeared into the clouds at their feet.

  “Me?” Gabriel took a step back. “I would think there must be someone more aptly suited to the task.”

  Michael set one large hand on his broad shoulder. “Who better to guide her than her own father?”

  II

  LONG after Alex went home, Julia lay in bed, wrapped in her favorite down comforter, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the cool air that had surrounded her body in the midst of the blast. She relived the moment many times, trying to figure out what had happened and how she had survived.

  After twenty minutes she threw back her comforter and made her way out to
her laptop. What she really needed right now was her best friend. She supposed some might think it was odd that she had never actually met her friend face to face, but Julia didn’t. She had never felt more connected to another person in her life than she felt to Charlie.

  The question right now was, where would she find her? Would she be on her instant messaging, or would she have it switched off so she could play Texas Hold ‘Em uninterrupted? That was where they’d first met, chatting in a sidebar as they lost millions of fake poker chips to the other players. Julia checked the clock. 1:30 AM. That would be 3:30 PM in Australia where Charlie lived, and perfect timing. They’d have an hour to chat before Charlie’s live-in boyfriend arrived. It also meant that Charlie was likely in a poker room.

  Julia logged in and quickly found her friend flirting with a guy named Larry whose picture looked like he’d stolen it from a male model website. Charlie’s picture was real, and beautiful. It was a headshot she’d taken with her cellphone, and it made her look like a blonde-haired, blue-eyed Swedish supermodel. All the guys hit on her online, but Charlie usually kept her distance. Last thing she needed was another stalker.

  Julia sent Charlie a private message.

  Julia: How’s Fake-Larry today? Seen a real pic yet?

  Charlie: You’re here! *GIANT HUGS* I haven’t asked to see his pic. Just getting him to transfer me some points. This game would be a lot more fun if I would win once in a while! How are you doing? I miss you!

  Julia: Haha. No kidding. How are you doing?

  Charlie: What’s wrong? You didn’t answer.

  Charlie was a master at picking up Julia’s tells, and this time was no exception. Julia stared at the screen, her fingers poised above her keyboard, waiting for her brain to slow down long enough to send out a type-able sentence. A tear slid down her cheek and she brushed it away. What was she even crying for? Confusion?

  Julia: Nothing really wrong. I saw a car accident today. Car on fire, baby inside. I pulled baby out. I think we both should be dead. I don’t know, maybe I’m in shock.