Beautifully Unnatural: A Young Adult Paranormal Boxed Set

by Amy Miles

  “You are free to love him,” the voice said.

  “Mom? Is that you?” Oh, how she wished it were possible. Gabby closed her eyes and concentrated. Say something, please. Let me hear your voice again.

  “Yes, sweet girl,” it answered in the delicate, inviting tone of her mother’s voice. Pure joy blanketed Gabby’s soul. “I’m here. I never left your side.”

  “I don’t understand. Y-you’re dead.” Gabby opened her eyes and saw Grace’s hands clasped as if praying.

  “No, child. I am resurrected, a fallen angel with wings renewed.”

  Grace’s lips didn’t move. She scanned the bedroom, but no one else was there. Gabby’s head swarmed with questions. “Fallen angel?” Like Alex? “Wings renewed? That doesn’t make sense. You sound like my mother, but you died in a car accident.” The image of her mother’s lifeless body flashed through her mind. “I’m imagining this. I have to be.”

  “You’re not imagining it. I was called home after years of walking the Earth. It was my time to return to Heaven for a great purpose. We don’t always understand. Sometimes, the truth is hidden in shadows. It’s our job to trust and be patient for all to be revealed.”

  “Trust? In what? How? The person I love—loved,” she quickly corrected herself, “killed you.” Gabby could feel the darkness spreading out from her heart again. A shadow stretched across her insides, over her intestines, liver, lungs, down her legs, and up her arms. A blackness, darker than an overcast, moonless night sky.

  “Hang on, my child. All will be well.”

  Grace started to sing again. Keeping one hand on Gabby’s arm, she sang and sang as Gabby whimpered.

  “I’ll stay with her, Eliana. I promise.”

  Gabby heard Grace speak but couldn’t make sense of the words. How could Grace be talking to her dead mother? How could Gabby have been talking to her? She wasn’t just sick from a poison, but flat-out crazy, too.

  The darkness spread until her entire body was buried alive in an inky blackness. Air choked from her lungs as black dirt pounded her down further into her grave. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t talk. She couldn’t cry or scream. Nothing.

  Forced to lie there unable to move, her chest constricted from the weight of the dirt pressing down on her.

  Dying.

  Death.

  Darkness.

  It surrounded her.

  ****

  Dreams plagued his night. He tossed and turned, fighting the images of demonic creatures and possessions, but he lost.

  A graveyard shrouded in mist appeared. Alexander’s insides knotted as he sensed Gabby clawing at the dirt walls of a grave, screaming as she fought to free herself.

  He had to find her. Had to help her.

  Forras’ laughter echoed through the house.

  Alexander reached out with his mind and screamed, Gabby!

  No response.

  He bolted from his chair beside Bruce’s bed and raced outside. Wings exploded from his back. He launched himself straight up and took flight, landing at a nearby graveyard. Standing in the silence, he held his breath, listening but no longer heard her pleas.

  Extending his wings, he hovered above the ground, moving between gravestones to find the loose soil of a fresh grave. The sweet smell of oranges wafted in the light breeze from a grove nearby, competing with the stench of death.

  She struggled to breathe, speak, cry. The sound of her nails scratching at the dirt sent chills through his body.

  “Forras. Tell me, or I swear I’ll—”

  “You’ll what? You can’t do anything. If you kill me, hell, if you even fight me in anger, you’ll become just like me.” Silence descended for a moment. “Hey, that’s an idea. You can take my place, and in the end, I still win, even if I fall. I’m getting bored on Earth anyway, and Hell sounds, well, heavenly to me.” Forras gnawed at Alexander’s already fraying patience.

  “I don’t care. I’ll gladly sacrifice myself to save her.”

  Forras’ howled into the night. “I’m counting on it.”

  Gabby’s gasps grew louder, as though Alexander stood right next to her. He looked down at the jagged rock resting a few feet below him.

  Freshly etched in the gravestone was a name. Gabriella Moore. He dropped to his knees, his wings dragging in the grass. Gabby’s breath faded. Then the faint sound of her heart stopped.

  He clawed at the ground, throwing dirt in every direction. “Hold on! Don’t leave me. You can’t die! You can’t—”

  “Alexander, wake. It’s a dream, nothing more.”

  Alexander jerked, his eyes snapping open at Grace’s distant whispers. His heart hammered in his chest but slowly calmed when he realized he still sat in the chair next to Bruce’s bed.

  He forced himself upright in the chair, sweat dripping from his face as he searched the dark room for Forras, the cause of his nightmare.

  He swiped his arm across his forehead, mopping up the sweat from his brow.

  Sweat? He didn’t sweat. Had he exhausted himself to the point of some sort of illness when he tried to heal Bruce?

  Before he could scan his human body for ailments, his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Sammy’s number displayed, so he hit talk.

  “Are you okay?” Sammy asked, in lieu of a greeting. “I sensed you were in trouble. Is it Bruce?” She sounded guarded and suspicious.

  “No, Sammy. I mean yes, we’re fine. How’s Gabby?”

  “She’s no worse…What’s going on, Alex?”

  “It’s nothing. I just had a bad dream. At least, that’s what I think it was. I think Grace woke me from it.”

  “What do you mean you think it was?”

  “Maybe it was a warning. I don’t know. Has there been any sign of Forras? Is he still in hiding?”

  “Boon says he took off in search of something. He’s not sure what. He’s not in Kemp right now. Why?”

  “Nothing. I don’t know, I guess I’m just going crazy with worry about Gabby. Does Grace think there’s a chance she’ll recover? I mean a full recovery?”

  “I sensed a hint of hope today from Grace. She made a comment about the anger being over and—”

  “She’s not angry anymore? Did she ask for me?” At her pause, he had his answer. “I guess she still hates me.”

  “I don’t know if it’s so much that she hates you. She’s upset, lost, and confused. Give her more time. I still think there’s a chance.”

  “Well, just call me if there’s a change. Please.”

  “I will. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Concentrate on Gabby, since I can’t…” His voice wavered and he quickly said goodbye before Sammy could try to cheer him up. He didn’t want to be cheered up. He wanted to suffer, the way he’d made Gabby suffer.

  “Eliana, if I’d only known…” Bruce mumbled in his sleep.

  Eliana? Bruce had spoken to her all night. Certainly just a hallucination, a manifestation of the man’s despair and grief, but it wasn’t the first time Alexander had experienced something strange surrounding that name.

  Alexander swore he felt an angel’s presence while he slept. Hadn’t he whispered to people in their nightmares as a healing angel? But what angel would be here? Why would Heaven send an angel to him?

  Alexander leaned over Bruce and pulled the washcloth from his forehead to dampen it again in the basin next to his bed. When he brushed his hand across Bruce’s face to replace it, he realized the heat was gone. No fever.

  Something strange was going on.

  The night had been full of pain and torture. Bruce had begged to die as Alexander struggled to drive the pain away. Too exhausted to continue trying to heal Bruce, Alexander had to admit defeat around two in the morning. With a heavy heart, he finally had to face the fact his gift of healing hadn’t returned, not fully.

  Looking out the bedroom window, he noticed the first rays of light filtering through the trees. He got up and made some toast, in hopes Bruce would be ready to eat something.
Yet he couldn’t stop reflecting on his dream and the whispers that woke him. Had the dream been a warning? If it was, what did it mean?

  Was Forras just messing with him somehow? He doubted Forras would give up on his little game so soon, but he’d never heard of a demon affecting an angel’s dreams before, only a human’s. Maybe Forras was affecting Gabby’s dreams and somehow Alexander had linked into them. He tried to reach out and sense if Forras lurked outside, but he couldn’t locate him. He couldn’t sense anything.

  Alexander returned to Bruce’s room with the toast and stood on the threshold. He rolled his shoulders, trying to ease the ever-increasing tension.

  Bruce slowly sat up. The man who’d screamed throughout the night now looked almost ready to get out of bed.

  Exhaling, Alexander walked over and handed him the toast. “I thought you might like something to eat.”

  Bruce nodded, the arrogance in his eyes from yesterday gone, leaving only a humbled far away stare. “Thanks,” he said, lifting his hand to take the plate.

  It was shaky, but a good sign nonetheless. Bruce was doing well, maybe a little too well.

  What should have taken days, or even weeks, to detox happened overnight. Something wasn’t right. If his powers had returned, the healing would have been immediate.

  What changed between the hours of two and six a.m.? Who or what interfered?

  “How’s your head?” Alexander inquired.

  “It feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

  Another good sign. “I’ve got aspirin if you’d like.”

  “Not sure my gut can handle it. Maybe after the toast.” Bruce laid the plate next to him without taking a bite then fidgeted with the edge of the fraying bedspread. “Is Gabby okay? I-I didn’t hurt her, did I?”

  “No, she’s fine. She’s staying with my mom and sister until you get better.”

  Bruce let out a sigh. “That’s good. I don’t want her seeing me like this.” He looked down, shame etched on his face. “What now?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Are you going to have me committed?” Bruce spoke into the bedspread, refusing to look at Alexander. “I mean, I think I said some crazy stuff, and I obviously can’t do anything for myself. Heck, all I want right now is a drink.”

  “No, I’m not committing you, not today anyway.”

  Bruce chuckled nervously as Alexander helped him from the bed.

  “You spoke to Eliana a lot last night. Did you dream about her?”

  “Yeah. I kept seeing her standing over me. Just the alcohol, I guess.”

  It didn’t make any sense, though. Eliana was a human. Granted she was in Heaven now, but she couldn’t possibly be communicating with Bruce. A human couldn’t become an angel.

  Maybe it was Forras up to his games again. But he would’ve tried to torture, not comfort Bruce. Something was happening and Alexander needed to discover what it was. From everything he’d observed, he knew Bruce never spoke about Eliana, not while he was awake anyway. But Alexander didn’t have a choice. He needed to figure things out. He just hoped it wouldn’t send the man over the edge again.

  Alexander helped Bruce shuffle toward the bathroom. “Did you, um…smell her?”

  “Excuse me?” Bruce said, perplexed by the question.

  “I mean—”

  Bruce held up a hand, stopping Alexander, and grasped the door molding. “I got this, man. I promise I won’t sneak a drink while I’m in the bathroom.”

  “I know you won’t. Even the cold medicines were confiscated.” Alexander tried to give him a reassuring smile as Bruce closed the door on him.

  A few hours later, Alexander returned to Bruce’s bedroom with a bowl of broth on a tray and set it in Bruce’s lap. Patronus trotted from the room and they heard crunching.

  “Guess he was hungry, too,” Bruce mumbled. “That crazy dog hasn’t left my side since I woke up.”

  Alexander handed Bruce a spoon. “Follow his example so you can regain your strength.”

  The man’s body convulsed in protest over the lack of alcohol and when he tried to feed himself, soup spilled everywhere.

  Alexander pulled up a chair and spoon-fed him lunch and, later, dinner. Initially, nothing stayed down. But with each meal, a little less came back up. Alexander tried to bring Eliana up any chance he could, but Bruce wouldn’t talk about her.

  Later that night, after Bruce fell asleep, Alexander decided to probe Grace, to see if she knew anything about this possible angel visit.

  After he fed Patronus and fixed the dog a bed on the floor next to Bruce, he headed out of the house.

  The moon shone through intermittent gray clouds. At the absolute silence in the midnight air, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He stopped and listened. Extending his wings, he took a step and crouched. Closing his eyes, he envisioned the woods around the house.

  Something was moving. A demon perhaps? It was difficult to sense, but he knew the creature raced toward his home.

  There was no time to track the creature. He had to warn and protect his family. Acid rose from his stomach as he shoved off from the ground and raced to his home and his family.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alexander flung the front door open. It slammed against the wall, cracking the pane of glass in the window beside the door.

  A dark figure stood in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs.

  Blinding light exploded as his wings knocked the door off its old rusty hinges. “Step away from her now!” He stepped closer, recognizing the small frame.

  Boon swiveled, his eyes glowing orange, oozing darkness and betrayal.

  Alexander’s skin burned with the surge of evil that filled the room.

  “Don’t!” Sammy raced into the hall. She stood between them, her eyes wide with fear. “Please. Don’t,” she whimpered. “It’s not what you think.”

  “What’s all the commotion about down there?” Grace’s soft voice came from upstairs.

  “Grace! Hurry!” Sammy cried.

  Alexander ignored her pleas, ready to strike Boon down where he stood.

  “Not in my house, boys.” Grace maneuvered down the stairs with caution. “What is going on here?” Her eyes flashed with fear as she looked from Boon to Alexander. She gestured at his wings. “Put those things away.”

  Sammy clasped her hands together in front of her chest.

  “You don’t understand. He’s here to kill Gabby,” Alexander warned.

  “If he wanted to kill Gabby, do you think you could’ve stopped him just by showing up at the front door? Your pride’s going to be your downfall, son.”

  Boon smirked and his eyes turned to a yellow hue. “I’m here to warn you. Not to hurt anyone,” he said with his usual steady tone.

  Alexander’s blood boiled at their ignorance. He maintained his fighting stance, waiting for Boon to make a move. But instead the demon turned away from him.

  Alexander slowly lowered his wings, but remained alert.

  “What’s going on?” Sammy asked.

  Boon wrung his hands. “I’m sorry for the intrusion, but it’s urgent.”

  “No time for tea then?” Grace asked, leading them all toward the front parlor.

  “No, ma’am. Thank you, though. I have news. I know why Forras disappeared. He wasn’t hiding from Alexander. He went in search of a weapon. Legend claims it can kill angels.”

  Silence settled over them.

  “Why now?” Sammy sat down on the gold couch next to Boon. “He’s never been a threat to any of us. A typical local demon trapped on Earth. Until he decided to target Gabby.”

  Alexander clutched a sofa pillow and snarled at them. The couch creaked as Boon scooted away from her, his eyes meeting Alexander’s.

  “It has something to do with Gabby. I’m not sure he meant to harm her. I think he just wanted to torture Alexander.”

  A growl rumbled from deep inside him.

  Oblivious, Boon continued. “Something happened to Forras. I tra
cked him to a demon nest up north. For some reason what happened back at the pier twisted him to a darker place. I’m not sure but I think harming Gabby made him more corrupt. He kept muttering something about it happening again and about acquiring a hunter’s weapon. I think he’s on the verge of pledging his eternal loyalty to Satan.”

  A hint of joy nudged Alexander with the thought of Forras leaving Earth permanently, but then he saw the color drain from Grace’s face. “How would he earn his right to enter hell?”

  Boon’s chin jetted out. “By using the hunter’s weapon to sacrifice an angel.”

  Sammy gasped. Alexander clutched his knees, keeping himself from taking flight and hunting for Forras that minute. He’d do it, but he had no clue where Forras was.

  Grace rubbed her forehead. “I see. This weapon. Do you know what it is?”

  “No. All I know is he should return any time now, weapon in tow.” Boon grasped Sammy’s hands in open defiance of Alexander’s growls. “I won’t let anything happen to you. To any of you. I’ll find a way to get the weapon from him.”

  “Why should we trust you?” Alexander asked through gritted teeth.

  “You have no choice. I’m your only hope. If Forras has the weapon and you go after him, it’ll be a slaughter. However, if I steal it, we’ll have a fighting chance.”

  “We? You say it as if you’re one of us.” Every muscle in his body tensed and he bolted up from the couch at the sight of Boon squeezing Sammy’s hand.

  “He is,” Sammy snapped. Then she sighed. “I mean, he’s been here helping with Gabby and taking care of us.”

  A sharp knife of regret pierced Alexander’s heart. He should have been the one by Gabby’s side, not some demon.

  “More trials to come,” Grace whispered.

  They all looked at her. Her lips had formed a firm line and her eyes appeared distant and worried. Even she was concerned.

  “Alexander, remain by Bruce’s side. Do not fight Forras alone. It will take us all to defeat him if…” Grace paused, her lips drooping into a frown.