by S. L. Naeole
“You’ll put your suitcase in the car and carry the baby.”
Dad’s eyebrows rose at such a simple explanation, and then followed Lark down the stairs. I took one last look at the room and tried hard not to feel sad. This was the third home I’d said goodbye to in less than three months, and I wasn’t exactly pleased with the trend.
I closed the door behind me and took the steps down to where Graham was waiting. He offered me one of his signature smiles and then punched me in my arm.
“Ow! Holy-what the-” He grabbed his fist and looked at me in shock.
“What?” I asked, stunned, reaching for his hand to inspect it for damage.
He held it up. “Gotcha,” he laughed.
“Oh, you dork!”
“Come on Frank,” he joked. “Let’s get going before my wife starts to get the wrong idea.”
“I don’t think she’d ever get the wrong idea with you,” I chuckled.
We walked outside, early morning sun already brightly lighting the street and the houses. There was a dark stain on the cement and I was reminded of Mrs. Lorimax’s cats.
“I’m gonna go and check on them really quickly,” I told Graham before crossing the street.
“You really think that’s a good idea?” he called out. “She’s dead. Can’t you just call the Humane Society or something?”
“I promised her they’d be okay; I’m just going to check if they have enough food and water until someone comes to get them.”
“Well, hurry up. I don’t like getting yelled at by my wife; especially when she’s not even here.”
The front door was still unlocked, and I walked in, calling for the cats as I shut the door.
They were all lounging on the sofas and the carpet in the living room, meowing at me for interrupting their morning nap. “Sorry,” I told them.
I reached out to pet one of them, its warm, soft head tilting up to accept my touch. The soft vibration of its purring and the mewls of the other cats around made me smile, reminding me of my dad and his strange love of themed music using those very sounds. I suppose it was this reaction that left me feeling at ease.
Because I forgot that they normally can’t see or sense the presence of an angel.
Which is why I didn’t realize that I wasn’t alone until it was too late.
THE TRUST IN DOUBT
You should have let things be. Everything that was done was done for you. I risked everything I am for you. I broke the rules, the laws of my kind for you. I’ve done more for you than I did for anyone else—even your mother. I would do anything for you and you had to go and ruin everything.
You know, I don’t think angels are supposed to have headaches. They’re not supposed to have bloody noses, either. But I had both; I could feel the stickiness clinging to my upper lip and smell the metallic tang of blood, while my head felt like a church bell.
I’m sorry for that. There was no other way to subdue you. That and you struggled more than I expected. You’re strong, but your human weaknesses are still present.
I tried to open my eyes, but they felt like they were glued shut. My mouth was dry, my tongue heavy in my mouth. It hurt to think.
You’ll feel better soon. Your body heals faster because of what you are. You know that, don’t you?
I didn’t intend to, but my head fell forward in a nod. My body didn’t move, though. I was sitting upright, but not necessarily in a chair. My hands, I could tell, were at my side. I was clutching onto the bottom of my wooden seat, my feet balanced on a bar. I was on a stool. Well, if I fell, I wouldn’t hurt for too long.
Don’t get too confident. You can still die. In fact, you are more susceptible to dying than a human being. It’s in your make up. It’s who you are.
A hand touched my hair, fingers running through it and tugging slightly. She had hair that was so smooth, like dark water. Your hair is thick like tar.
I coughed, my lips cracking as they opened to allow the action. “I get my hair from my dad.”
His voice was harsh and piercing in my mind, and I flinched as it filled every corner that I’d left opened. You have no father. You are the sum of only one person, who wasted her love and her devotion on someone who admits to loving a human more.
“Y-you were listening to me talk to my dad.”
How can you continue to call him that?
“Because that’s what he is,” I wheezed. “He loves me, no matter what I do or say. That’s what fathers do. They love their children no matter what kind of mistakes they make, and I’ve made some pretty big ones.”
You say this to attack my own lack of remorse over my son. But no mistake you have made can equal the failures of his, so to compare the two of you in some misdirected attempt to make me feel inferior to James Shelley is foolish and futile.
“You couldn’t ever measure up to my dad. He might be human, but he’s never failed me as a father the way you did to Sam. And Sam never failed. But you already knew that.”
Lem’s voice boomed, bouncing and amplifying quickly, telling me that we were in a small room. “He failed at everything. He was weak, he was incompetent. His hatred of humans was so strong that he couldn’t even charm them; I had to do it for him.”
“You changed your look before, didn’t you?” I asked, noticing that my throat was growing less itchy.
What do you mean by that? Don’t be obtuse, Grace. He was back to thinking. He knew I was gathering clues.
“No, no you have; I’m not being obtuse. My friends told me, but I didn’t pay attention to it. They said that Erica had a boyfriend; a blond, tall, handsome boyfriend. I think if I hadn’t known deep down who Sam was, I would have thought it was him. But I didn’t, because I knew it couldn’t have been. He couldn’t show anyone affection. But you…you’ve shown more affection than you should have.
“That’s how you got to Erica, isn’t it? You made yourself look like Sam so that other people would think it was him, and then you hurt her.”
I didn’t hurt that girl.
“You tricked her into thinking you were Sam. You made everyone think that you were him and then you attacked her. You turned her into a zombie!”
I didn’t hurt her. Even after learning about what she wanted to do to you with that human boy, the one who married Lark, I did nothing to her.
My stomach clenched at his statement. “You knew about that?”
Of course. I know everything about your life.
“What-what the hell? What were you doing? Were you…were you stalking me? Do you know how creepy that is?”
Stalking you? I was protecting you.
I huffed. “Protecting me? You were protecting me? Now I know why Sam couldn’t do anything right—he had a pretty damn lousy example to follow.”
I felt tight fingers on my shoulders, digging through my shirt and into my skin, and I cried out at the pain. Who do you think kept you safe before N’Uriel arrived into your life? Who do you think kept you out of Samael’s sights for so long?
“You sure didn’t seem all that willing to protect me at that wedding,” I sneered.
I couldn’t do that without bringing suspicion to all of us. You have every single angel focusing their thoughts on you.
What Avi did to bring you into this world, her sacrifices, her death, has left us with a void that we are unable to fill on our own. You are the reason for that and to draw any further attention to you would have made you an even bigger target.
“Oh please, like you give a damn about that. The truth is you’re doing this because of my mom. She didn’t love you and you’re trying to prove to the world that she made the wrong choice.”
His fingers loosened and I could hear him stumble backwards, even falling. He wasn’t on a carpeted floor—I could hear the scraping of his wings. I stretched my foot down and felt the give of something beneath my boot.
Dirt. Small room, dirt floor, somewhere he didn’t want anyone to recognize… “You brought me to your sanctuary.” It wasn’t a q
uestion, because I already knew the answer. I don’t know how, I just did. It made sense.
The air around me vibrated with emotion. It was chilled, yet smelled like burnt hair. I could hear the back and forth sawing of something, a grating sound that pierced my ears and caused my already closed eyes to tighten.
He was crying, and if I could have seen it, it probably would have been the kind of crying that Stacy called “ugly crying”; the kind that contorted your face into grotesque shapes, reddening it, puffing it up until you looked like a smashed apple.
“Did I say something wrong? Lem?”
You said you made mistakes. What kind of mistakes?
His thoughts were shaky, as if the vibrations in the air affected everything on the inside of him, too. This affected me for some reason and I felt compelled to answer him, even though everything inside of me that possessed any sense left screamed against it.
“I-I lied to my dad. I lied to him about Robert. I lied about Stacy. And I let him believe I was dead. I broke his heart and put him through hell-”
You don’t know what hell is like!
I straightened up, my back turning stiff instantly at his insinuation. “No. But you do, right? Because you are hell? I am hell—Llehmai. That’s your name. You were the one who put Stacy into that coma. You trapped her inside of her own mind.”
You have your mother’s heart but you do not have her head; you are not as intelligent as she was,
I don’t know why, but that made me angry. “I know that. I know I’m not as smart as she was. She was a freaking angel. I got a B in English and flunked Biology and had to go to summer school. I don’t know a billion languages and definitely don’t know everything about angels because I’m not an angel.
“But I know what I saw in Stacy’s head. I saw the room with the birds. Sam didn’t hate Robert; he hated me. What I saw in that room was done by someone who hated him, and the only person I know who has a reason to hate him is you.”
Why would I hate N’Uriel? What does he have that I do not?
“Me.”
He laughed, both out loud and in my head, the stereo of the sound filling up the small space quickly. I never thought you, of all people, could be so conceited.
That stung. “Well? Am I wrong? Tell me that you don’t hate the fact that I chose Robert over you the same way my mom chose my dad over you.”
I heard a high pitched whistle before the cracking of wood and then the sound of crunching as my head hit the ground.
I don’t hate N’Uriel because you chose him. I don’t hate him at all. I hate myself for never making myself known to you. If I had, you would have chosen me instead. I would have made you happy. I would have done everything to make you happy.
I groaned as the throbbing in the back of my head moved forward. “Is that what this is? Stalking me, kidnapping me is you making me happy? What’s next, huh? Are you gonna feed me to some vampires and call that foreplay?”
I…I’m sorry. I am angry and I am directing it towards you.
“You think? Ow…if I didn’t have a concussion before, I will now.”
Hands that were firm and gentle slid beneath me, and I inhaled almost automatically, the burnt hair scent stronger now. He lifted me and placed me into his lap, my head falling into the crook of his arms, my legs hanging over his thigh. My leg brushed against the thick stiffness of his wings and I shivered at how rough they felt, even through my jeans.
“Why can’t I open my eyes?” I asked.
Your eyes are open.
I felt myself blink, but everything was black. “What are you doing to me? Why can’t I see anything?”
He sighed. I’m making you see nothing but darkness,
“Why? Are you scared I’m gonna see your face? Because I know what you look like already. I’ve seen it up close, remember?”
I felt his head shake, the motion causing his wings to rub my leg. It’s because your sister-in-law has the ability to see what you see and I cannot risk having her see where we are.
“Can’t she just dig into your head?” I asked through gritted teeth; his body wasn’t as giving as Robert’s was while holding me. It felt like I was lying on a rock.
She can only see what I want her to see. She knows this. She knows trying to find you through me will get her nowhere. And as long as you are here, no one will find you. No one.
My heart slowed down. I didn’t need him to explain what he meant by that. What I needed was to somehow un-hear it. I wanted to have it be erased from my mind, blacked out like he’d blacked out my vision.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” I whimpered.
You know that I do. You know that I know exactly what I’m doing.
“Why? Why are you doing this to me? Why are you doing this to Robert?”
Because I cannot lose your mother again.
I raised my head and turned towards his voice. “You can’t lose her again. She’s gone. She’s been gone for eleven years.”
You don’t understand. You are the only proof left that she existed.
“But I don’t plan on dying. I told you-”
You told me a fairytale. What makes you think you can outwit the call? It will take either your life or N’Uriel’s soon. If it takes yours, the world will fall apart. You are the irreplaceable one, not him.
“Yeah, I keep hearing that, but news flash: I’m not Death. I don’t hold the keys or whatever the hell you think I do to the freaking balance of this world. If my mother wanted me to take over for her, why didn’t she tell me so herself? You know why? Because she knew that I couldn’t do what she did. I don’t have it in me to kill people; I’m not that strong.”
He laughed sarcastically. You think you’re not that strong? You defeated my son.
My arms flew up in the air in exasperation. “I didn’t do anything, okay! I don’t know what happened that night. I had some kind of freaky epiphany and stabbed him in his eyes; that was it. I didn’t stop him; someone else did. Maybe it was you, maybe it was someone else, but it wasn’t me.”
Angry and tired of having to repeat myself, I shoved against his chest, the force causing me to roll away. My face fell into the dirt and I inhaled some of it, coughing and choking on the dust. A strong hand rapped me on my back, but I shook it off. “Get away from me.”
“Grace. You can close your mind to me but you can’t stop me from speaking.”
I crawled across the ground until I hit a wall. I scrambled to place the wall against my back and the brought my knees up to my chest. “I don’t care if you talk until your tongue rots and falls off. I just don’t want you touching me anymore.”
“Fine, I’ll stay away,” he said gruffly before his voice turned remorseful. “I know you think that I was Samael’s partner.”
“I don’t think it. I know it.”
“And you are right.”
I jerked at his confession. “Y-you’re admitting it?”
“I did seduce that girl, Erica, yes, but I did it for my son. Contrary to what you think, I did care for him.”
I hoped he could see me roll my eyes at that. I hope I was actually rolling my eyes. “You did it for him? Because you cared about him? Like I’m going to believe that.”
“You don’t have to, but it is the truth. I have never lied to you and I never will. That’s not something you can say about N’Uriel, now is it?”
“Robert’s lies weren’t meant to hurt me.”
Lem chuckled. “Yes. One never truly intends to harm another when they lie, and yet they always do.”
“Your son never told a lie that he didn’t mean to hurt someone.”
“This is true. You think I was a terrible father; you’re right. He asked me for my help; he’d never done that before and I was too surprised to say no. He said he needed me to make her see him as someone good. He said she only saw evil in him.”
“She obviously knew her kind,” I sniped.
“Perhaps. I admit that I wasn’t concerned. I did this thi
ng for him and unwittingly became a part of his plan. By the time I found out why he needed me to get her to trust him, it was too late. She was dead in every way that mattered.”
My voice was loud when I threw out my accusation. “It’s your fault! You made her act like a zombie. You made her hurt my friends; you made her hurt me-”
“I never did any of that. I told you, I’ve been protecting you. I tried to stop him. I tried to make him see you as someone else. I wouldn’t have done anything that I knew would end up hurting you.”
I buried my head in my arms, feeling the strain in my neck and my back as I mumbled to him from beneath my partial shelter, “Everything you did ended up hurting me.”
I heard his muffled movements and I looked up, seeing nothing, my head shaking violently from side to side. “Don’t come any closer. I don’t want you near me.”
“You’ll have to let me near you one day,” he said softly, almost hopefully.
“That’ll never happen. Robert’s going to kill you when he finds you; you realize that, right?”
“He won’t find me. He won’t find you, either.”
I scrambled to my feet and tried to point my body in his direction. I threw out my arm; my finger pointing at what I hoped was his face. “Then you don’t know Robert. He came back from the dead for me. He’ll find me no matter where we are.”
Lem’s laughter was hollow, as if he doubted what he wanted to say even before the words left his lips. “No one will find you here until it’s too late.”
“If anything happens to Robert while I’m here, I promise you, I’ll kill you myself.”
“I thought you weren’t strong enough to kill anyone,” he said lightly.
I turned my head, knowing now where he stood. I walked towards him, feeling his presence, smelling that same burnt scent, until I was within inches of him. I raised my head until I knew I was looking directly at him. Even if I couldn’t see him, even if he looked away, he and I knew that what I had to say wasn’t going to be wasted on empty spaces between us.
“If Robert’s call to kill me returns and he refuses to answer it, he will die, and he won’t die alone. You know what your son planned. You saw what he wanted. Keeping me here finishes what he started. And if you do that, if anyone I love is hurt because of you, I swear on my love for Robert, I will kill you. I will find the most painful, awful way to do it and I will.
