Grace of Day - BK 4 of the Grace Series

by S. L. Naeole

  “No. She doesn’t want anything. Being an EP, looking out after her angel charge is all she has. She would give up everything to protect that, to protect her way of life.”

  I was skeptical of that. “Dad, I don’t know if I like the idea of you working with her…or any of the EPs who do what your family does.”

  “Well, whether you like it or not, kiddo, it’s what has to be done. Even if your mother wasn’t who she was, that doesn’t change what I was and what I did. There are hundreds of innocent EPs out there who will suffer the same fate if we abandon them.”

  “Fine. But you make sure she knows that if she demands custody of Matthew again, I’ll knock her out,” I warned.

  “I promise,” Dad chuckled.

  “That still doesn’t sound like something I wanna do,” Graham huffed. “I’m not going to stay here.”

  “And how are you gonna get anywhere; fly?” Robert asked sardonically.

  “I’ll take him wherever I go,” Lark answered protectively.

  “Fine. Let him be your burden.”

  “He is no more a burden to me as Grace is to you.”

  “Grace cannot fly, but she has discovered the ability to move rather quickly,” Robert informed her. “And she’s strong; stronger than Graham, maybe even stronger than Stacy. She’s the only reason you’re not sitting next to a cup of Graham juice right now—she protected him from Bane.

  “And I agree with her: Graham should stay here.”

  “I’m not saying he shouldn’t stay here. I’m saying I won’t force him to stay here.” Lark looked at Graham, who grunted in protest. “I know you want to come, but I can’t protect Grace if I’m worrying about you.”

  “You act like I don’t know my own limitations. I know I can’t do any of the things you can do, but don’t forget that I’ve studied offensive and defensive plays for four years. I know what it takes to avoid getting sacked. Most of these things coming this way are still human up here-” he jabbed his index finger against his head “-which means I’m much better at understanding them and what they’re gonna do than you are.”

  “He’s got a point.”

  Five heads turned to look at Stacy, our faces all mirroring the same shock.

  “I’ve been in this body for months now and I’m still learning about all the things I can do. I still think I have human limitations and when I expect something to happen and it doesn’t, it throws me off.

  “These turned people are only hours, maybe days old, right? That means they won’t be doing anything the way that someone like Dr. Bro would. Graham’s right: while they’re still new and unsure of themselves, he’s got the advantage.”

  “What about the vampires? What about them? They’re mindless; they’re not thinking like humans; they’re not thinking at all. How’s he gonna stop them?” I wanted to know.

  “How about you let me take care of that,” she responded, her tone so sure, I struggled to fight the death of doubt in me.

  “So what? You’re gonna fight off a dozen or more monsters by yourself? That’s gonna make me feel better?”

  Stacy sat up in her chair and leaned over the table to glare at me. “Well I don’t know; does it? Does it make you feel better knowing that no matter what happens, by this time tomorrow, there’s a good chance that hundreds of people will be dead?

  “Because that’s the reality here, Grace; Graham wants to help and he can. He knows how to do it without killing anyone, and you said it yourself that you don’t want anyone else dying because of you.”

  “And that includes him!” I shouted. “Graham, I love you, but this isn’t a game. You don’t get four quarters and a half-time show here.”

  “Why can’t you trust me to make the right decision for myself?” Graham barked, his face filled with more disappointment than anger. “I screwed up before—especially with you—but isn’t the whole point of screwing up so that we can learn from our mistakes? Well how the hell am I gonna prove that I’ve learned anything if you won’t let me?

  “I’m not just doing this for you, you know. I’m doing it for me, too, as well as for Lark and my parents. Hell, we should be doing this for everyone because they don’t deserve what’s gonna happen if we don’t.”

  “Fine! Fine, do what you want. Just…just don’t die, because I might have to kill you if that happens.”

  It wasn’t a very good threat—at least to me—but it made everyone else laugh nervously; the kind of laugh you only hear when something is far more true than funny.

  “So that’s it, then. Graham’s going and I’m staying. Where’s Ambrose and his wife?” Dad was patting Matthew on the back, trying to burp him.

  “They’ll meet us when it’s time,” Lark answered quietly.

  “Meet where?”

  “Some of the turned are heading to your house, while others are going to the school. The rest will be waiting at the retreat. They’re looking to pick off the weakest ones first-”

  “Which means me,” Graham finished for her.

  “Well, they don’t know who’s weak and who isn’t. They’re confused and scared, and only know that they need to kill Grace. They don’t know what she is; only what Robert and I are.”

  “And they won’t expect Graham to be what he is. Their ignorance of what it means to be turned, what it means to have angels want to help you instead of hurt you makes them weak. You all will have the advantage on them in that area,” Dad added.

  “So we head to your house first, Grace,” Stacy confirmed.

  “I guess so.”

  Everyone stood up, looking at each other for the last time with eyes as innocent as they’d ever be; our hopes and our fears warring with one another in our faces as we tried to present a brave front.

  Stacy’s mind was filled with thoughts of her family. She thought of her parents, of how hard they’d worked for the life they’d led, and how her failure would destroy that. She worried over her brothers, fearing that they would fail to help when they were needed the most. There were thoughts and feelings of guilt within her that she would never be able to rid herself of and already she felt their weight.

  Lark and Graham stood side-by-side, their hands clasped so tightly that the world splitting in two probably wouldn’t tear them apart. They were promising each other a vacation when all of this was over. Lark would take him to see where she was born, and he would take her to see the monument dedicated to the greatest football player there ever was.

  Dad was looking at Matthew and seeing in his face every dream a father has for a son. Every hope he’d ever had before I was born, every hope he’d held onto with desperation could now finally be let loose and I didn’t want to disappoint him.

  But when Dad looked up at me, his thoughts shifted and I blinked by tears when I saw that his hopes for me had been much greater…and he didn’t feel one ounce of disappointment. Instead what he felt was pride. He was proud of me, of what I was doing and what I was trying to do.

  Robert was no less proud. His mind wasn’t cluttered with memories and promises. There were no plans being made and no hopes being shared. Instead, he only allowed one thought to exist, one thought to be heard, and that was how much he loved me. It was more than enough.

  These were the people who made up my family. They were everything to me. Every branch, every leaf, every crooked knot and twisted root that made me who I am was standing right in front of me, supporting me and fighting with me for an uncertain future, but one that they only wanted if I was a part of it.

  I had never imagined having so much. This was what mattered. Not popularity, not acceptance, not beauty, not money. And I was ready to die for it.

  “Let’s go.”

  THE ROAD TO PERDITION

  It was decided without a single world being spoken that we would head to my house separately.

  Stacy would go on foot—the fastest way for her to travel—and try to lure whatever was waiting there for us out. She took Dad to the side and spoke to him quietly, handing him so
mething small before leaving, her head lowered, her mood darker than it had ever been. I had refused to listen to their conversation, but I couldn’t fight the curiosity within me.

  “What did she give you?” I asked.

  “It’s a letter for her brother. She asked me to give it to him in case she doesn’t return.”

  “She will, though…right?”

  “I don’t know. “

  “We’re leaving,” Lark announced, her voice sounding gritty, as though she was hardening herself for what she was set to face.

  She’d said “we’re”, and she was right. She and Graham were leaving at the same time, but Graham was leaving in Dr. Bro’s car, a tiny little thing that made Graham look like a giant.

  “Stacy—has she come across any trouble yet?” I asked as I walked them out of the house.

  “No. She’s almost there; I don’t want to leave her alone. There will be more than she can handle.”

  She grabbed Graham by his shirt and tugged, the fabric tearing as he fell toward her. She kissed him, fully, roughly, and then she was gone.

  “I gotta go,” Graham stuttered, half-breathless, half-energized. He climbed into the car and turned the key that sat in the ignition. It purred when it started, like an overgrown metal cat.

  Dad would have been pleased.

  Graham jumped out of the car and wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me without saying a word before returning to the car and driving off, the tiny car zipping down the street at a much faster speed than I expected.

  I went back inside the house and gave one last look at everything there. It wasn’t my house, and nothing here was familiar to me in any way, but if I returned I knew that the way I saw things would be different. Life would be different.

  Would a book look like a book when I’d just experienced the most unbelievable story? Would the comfort of a couch really exist after today? I didn’t know anything but the world right now, the world the way my eyes had always seen them. I’d seen death. I’d seen heartbreak. I’d seen betrayal and forgiveness. But I didn’t know what to expect now.

  And then there was always the possibility that I’d never see any of this again. Nothing as mundane as a table with a plate of half-eaten food or a spit-up rag hanging off the back of a chair. I’d come to terms with that a long time ago, but it didn’t make it any less difficult.

  “Dad,” I called out softly.

  “I’m here, Grace.”

  He was holding Matthew close to his chest. I walked towards him and held out my arms, taking the baby into them and cuddling him, breathing in the scent of baby powder and something sweet. “You be good, little man. I’ll see you in a little while.”

  It sounded so simple, so ordinary that I couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it. I was speaking to him like I was going to the store or something.

  “He’ll be fine. We both will.”

  Dad’s face was relaxed, the lines and crevices that framed his mouth and his eyes thinner and shallower than they’d ever been. He looked…proud. There was no fear or reservation like I expected. Either he was genuinely feeling it or his past as an EP was coming back.

  “When is your sister coming?”

  “She and some of the others will be here in a few minutes. Jessica never left Ohio; she probably knew what was coming and knew that eventually I’d call. It’s funny.”

  “What?”

  “She doesn’t consider you a part of our family, but her very survival depends on you and your devotion to us.”

  “To you and Matthew; not her.”

  “I know, kiddo.”

  “So, is this the part where we do the whole goodbye thing?” I asked, strangely embarrassed all of a sudden.

  “No. I wouldn’t be able to let you go if it was a goodbye; you’re not going to tell me goodbye ever again. Instead, just tell me the same thing you told Matthew; minus the little man part.”

  I laughed softly, handing the baby back and then giving Dad the biggest smile I could manage. He deserved to see that before watching me leave. “I’ll see you later, Dad.”

  He returned my smile, width for width, hope for hope. “Don’t be late. I’m going to make chicken lasagna for dinner.”

  “My favorite,” I whispered.

  “Robert, may I speak to you for a minute?”

  I hadn’t noticed Robert’s presence, but he placed his hand on my back and kissed my head before walking away with Dad towards the kitchen. I closed my mind off to their voices, choosing not to hear the conversation that was going on between them. If it was one of those chats that started and ended with “you take care of my daughter or else”, I was definitely better off not hearing any of it.

  I took one step outside the small house that had brought my family closer than it’d ever been before, and waited. It’s not goodbye. Goodbyes were final. Goodbyes were the words spoken by those giving up on ever seeing anyone or anything they cared about again.

  “See you later, house,” I breathed.

  ***

  We were on Robert’s motorcycle.

  “They will expect us to arrive from the sky. Their heads are just as full of stereotypes about angels as yours was when we first met,” Robert explained as he put the helmet on my head, clipping the strap beneath my chin.

  “I didn’t really know much of anything about angels,” I replied honestly. “The only thing I thought was that you had wings and wore togas.”

  He laughed, pushing the visor on the helmet down and climbing onto the black beast that had taken me for my first real ride. “Togas? I was wearing a pair of pants and a rather expensive shirt when we first met.”

  “I know,” I answered, my voice muffled.

  “And I didn’t have wings.”

  “I know that, too.”

  The roar of the engine startled me, the vibrating between my legs teasing them, and my legs responded by clenching against the black, metal frame. It was just as terrifying and exciting as the first time, and just like it was then, I didn’t know where I’d end up, only that it was where I needed to go.

  We didn’t need wings to fly. The motorcycle flew on the road, Robert throttling it so fast that it floated above the pavement. Black against black, Robert dressed to match; I was the only thing that stuck out in my white t-shirt and dark blue jeans. It was the only way to know for sure that what had just blown by wasn’t just a shadow but something real.

  And my arms wrapped around Robert’s waist, my head resting against his back, my thoughts filled with his told me that he was real. It didn’t matter how close we were, or how intimate we’d been—I needed to know that. It was the human side of me.

  Acknowledging this, that there really were two parts to me, didn’t feel new. I’d accepted it the minute I protected Graham from Bane’s attack. But it gave me something that I don’t think I expected. I felt…brave.

  Hitting the pavement didn’t require bravery.

  It required an ability to handle sudden pain and swallow fear.

  So when it felt like a house crashed into me, when the back tire of the motorcycle burned against my thigh and peeled away the top layer of skin, and I saw sky and asphalt rotate in my line of vision until I landed in weeds and trash, I did just that. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry out or focus on the incredible pain that shot out like firecrackers beneath my skin.

  Instead I took deep, steady breaths and listened for the crunching of bones as I slowly tried to get up. There was a crack in the visor of the helmet, and I tugged at the strap and pulled it off my head, breathing in the scent of burnt rubber and spilled fluids.

  “Robert?” I called out.

  A blur. That’s all I saw.

  Fingers gripped into my shirt and shoulder as my feet left the ground. I couldn’t see who was holding me, only the shadow they created above the pavement.

  “I know it’s you, Bane,” I said half-panicked.

  His voice was soft and delicate, almost absurdly so when he responded. “My name is not for you to
speak.”

  “Why not?”

  “Nephilim do not speak to the divine.”

  “I’m not Nephilim. I’m one of you.”

  “That is not possible. You are not divine. You are an abomination, a black mark upon us.”

  The ground was growing farther and farther away, and his thoughts were focused on one thing: dropping me.

  “Don’t do it! Don’t do it, Bane!” I pleaded. “Put me down. You don’t have to do it; I’m not what you think I am.”

  His ascent stopped. It actually stopped. We dangled in the air for what was probably only seconds before slowly descending, my feet finding the ground, my toes curling into my boots at the solidity.

  “Thank you,” I said tentatively before stepping away the second his fingers loosened before tumbling to the ground when an explosion sounded, the sky filling with light that made the morning sun seem like night.

  Bane, unmoved and unconcerned by it stared at me, confused and angry, his thoughts still focused on dropping me but now…now they warred with the fact that he hadn’t.

  “Grace!”

  Robert grabbed me, pulled me to my feet before shoving me behind him as he faced the gigantic angel standing in front of us. “Stay away, Bane.”

  “I don’t take orders from you, N’Uriel.”

  “Well then you’ll die like Azor just did,” Robert said firmly.

  “You killed Azor?” Bane asked, his face falling, almost like a child’s would after losing a favorite toy.

  “I’ll kill anyone and anything trying to hurt Grace,” Robert promised. “She is my reason for living. I won’t let you take that away from me.”

  “It is what I am. I have no other purpose than to punish. You cannot kill me for doing what I was created for.”

  “I will, and I’ll do it with no remorse. You stay away from us.”

  “I do not take orders from you,” Bane repeated, this time stepping towards.

  “This is your last chance,” Robert warned, his body growing rigid as the air grew colder.

  Bane did not look at me. He didn’t even notice me. He was too busy staring Robert down, the battle of wills threatening to turn from simply staring each other down to tearing each other apart. “I. Do. Not. Take. Orders. From. You.”