“Maybe once upon a time, but they ran out of new messages long ago. Now they make their own decisions, just like us. Usually, they’re more subtle than this. And the primary agent in this case, an angel called Akaterin Ettoriel, doesn't have the profile of a powermonger. None of this makes sense, which is why I'd really, really like to talk to Zachariah.”
“Of course.”
Corbin didn't continue, and she let the pause drag out while she tried to figure out what to say next. She’d decided she wasn't going to hang up the phone, even if it seemed like the most sensible option. Sense had flown out the window the day before.
She watched as Kari sat up and looked around. Silently, Marley pulled out a bottle of water and a box of graham crackers and offered them to the child. The practical act grounded her.
“Are you still there?” Corbin said.
“I'm not sure how to feel about running away from something like that,” she said conversationally.
“There’s a lot you still don’t know. Are you sure—you’re taking this better than I expected,” he said. “You really didn't know anything?”
“I hardly know anything now. You didn't mention a Backworld or any geometry, for example. But it’s an explanation. It’s as good as anything. I was afraid what I saw was a hallucination. Though maybe it’d be better for all of us if I was crazy. Don’t you think?”
His voice became low. “No. Whether or not you were crazy wouldn’t change anything. You’re not, though. Whatever’s happening to you, you’re not.” There was a warmth to his voice that startled Marley. “Zachariah was cruel to you.”
She was startled. “No! We’re friends.”
“He kept secrets from you. Things he really should have shared. At the very least, he should have told us about you. My family was right about him.”
“There you go talking about your family again; what’s that about? How is it you and Zachariah are in the business of opposing angels? Are you Satanists?”
A bark of laughter buzzed the phone. “Satanists! No. God, that’s really funny. No. We oppose angels mostly because what they really want to do is get rid of us.”
“And why is that? What are you?”
“Us? We’re their children.”
-fourteen-
“Nephilim,” Marley said, after a moment. “Not washed away in the Flood. Not myths.”
“Mmm. No. No more than angels.” He fell silent.
“You’re the child of a—What does that even mean?”
“Well, when an angel loves a mortal very much—”
“Please! Don't joke!”
Mildly, he said, “It's not entirely a joke. Angels, of all the celestials, can be particularly fierce in their passions. It takes a lot to lure them out of Heaven and into breaking the Precepts. But in any case, it means we're partly human, and partly celestial. We inherit powers from our celestial side, and we don't age like humans. But we're not immortal like angels are, either.”
“Don't age... How old are you?”
“Me? I’m only thirty. I’m also third generation; my father is... much older.”
“And Zachariah? He’s also a—uh. Is he old, too?”
“Ancient.” She could hear the amusement in his voice, and she didn’t like it.
“How about that girl with the dogs? AT? Is she also ‘family’?”
“Yes. And she’s sixteen, before you ask. She should be keeping an eye on your building right now.”
Marley was aghast. “She’s a kid. Why would you involve another kid in this?”
Corbin’s voice sharpened. “She involved herself, and she’s been involved in more frightening things. Her life is a more frightening thing. Don’t worry about her.”
“Right.” Marley watched Lissa roll off the couch, stand up, stagger over to her sister, and take Kari’s graham cracker. Kari’s lip trembled.
Suddenly, she was ready for the conversation to be done. Angels. Nephilim. Immortals. “Well, I have to go be a foster mom now, so nice talking to you. Thanks for the info.”
He paused, then said, “All right. It’s a lot to take in. I’ll let you think about it.” She was about to hang up when he blurted, “Marley! They can’t find you like AT and I can, but they will find you. You’re not going to be safe where you are.”
“Is there someplace I will be safe?”
“Just... keep moving for now. I’m going to try to find out why Ettoriel wants the kids. And I’m going to see what help Senyaza—uh, the family business—can provide.”
“Right.” She clicked off the phone and closed her eyes, letting Corbin’s stories swirl around in her mind. Then one of the twins squealed in anger. She sighed, opened her eyes, and pushed into the fray.
* * *
There was, she reflected an hour later, only so fast that she could get the twins moving in the morning without scaring them or making them unreasonably surly. She wondered if experienced caretakers had any tricks, or if it always took this long to, say, get kids out to preschool. If the twins knew, they weren’t saying.
Once she’d herded them out to the sidewalk and deposited most of what they’d taken upstairs back in the car, she stood back and looked around. The haze of smoke from the wildfires painted the sky with yellow, and there was hardly anybody out on the street. A block down, on the corner, she saw AT sitting sideways on a bus bench, all three dogs sprawled around her.
She was reading a magazine, some kind of teen thing, but she looked up as Marley approached and smiled. “Hi.”
Lissa pressed close against Marley’s leg, but Kari pulled away to go investigate the dogs. “Your doggie was hurt before.”
A shadow passed over AT’s face. “Yup. But he’s better now. You can pet them if you’d like. They’ll be nice.” The black dog, the one who’d been shot, yawned hugely as Kari patted his head.
Marley put her hand on Lissa’s hair. “Thank you. For yesterday, I mean. And, er... keeping watch now?”
AT’s friendly smile returned. “Sure. I’m happy to help. Corbin called me and told me you two talked.”
“Have you... has anybody... has it been busy?”
“Nope. I bet they’re still figuring out that you swapped cars. That lawyer’s people, anyhow. They’re not big creative thinkers.”
“How did you find me?”
AT patted the red dog curled up on the bench beside her. “Dogs have an amazing sense of smell. Especially mine.”
“Oh. Right.” Marley stood still, uncertain of what she wanted to say.
While she was wondering, AT tucked the magazine into a backpack and pulled a knee up under her chin. “So, Corbin finally introduced himself, and gave you his number.”
“What? Yes. He told me about the... person after us. Something Ettoriel? And, uh, nephilim.” What was easy to talk about indoors on the phone felt strange and alien outside and face to face.
AT tilted her head, looking up at her. A lock of curly hair fell into her eye, and she shook her head to toss it away. “Akaterin Ettoriel,” she said absently. “Corbin’s a nice guy. Too serious. Kind of angry sometimes. But he’s been a friend since I came to Senyaza. Hey, are you dating Zachariah?”
Now thoroughly off-balance, Marley said, “What? No? I mean... no.”
“Hmm. But you’re pretty close to him? Enough that he sent his kids to you?”
“Well... that was unexpected. Really unexpected. And kind of weird. Why are you asking about this?” The girl grinned at her and she felt irrationally defensive. “We’re friends. A man and a woman can be friends without dating.” Even if I had hopes...
AT’s smile widened. “That's great. Friends is great. I’m all for friends. And you’re not dating anybody else?”
“No, and why does that matter?” With bad grace, she added, “Do you have a boyfriend, since we’re being nosy here?”
AT laughed, as if Marley had said something really funny. “I wish. But that won’t happen anytime soon.” She hopped off the bench. “So did you just want to say h
i?”
“I wanted to see what you had to say about this Ettoriel guy.” A casually dressed man approached them, earbuds in his ears, and Marley found herself turning her body so Lissa was behind her, and stepping closer to the dogs. The man veered around them without ever really looking at them, and continued down the sidewalk. Lissa peered after him, and then joined Kari in petting the dogs, whispering to them as she did.
AT barely glanced at him. “Dunno much about him. I haven’t had much experience with the angelic side of the celestial equation. I’ve heard the name a couple times before. And of course there was that messed-up scene yesterday. I never expected things to go down like that.”
Marley scanned the street for more passersby, and put the bus bench between her and the street. Then she shook herself. She’d barely heard what AT said, she’d been so distracted. “How do you know if it’s somebody dangerous? The dogs again?”
AT had watched her change position without comment. “They can help, sure, but angels mark everybody who works for them. It’s visible with the Sight. Which,” she added with a look of dawning realization, “you don’t have. Crap. You make sure to ask Corbin about that next time you see him, and he can set you right up. I would, but I don’t have the tools.” She shook her head. “Wow, no Sight; that must suck.”
Marley was briefly distracted by the idea that a capital-s Sight was like a pair of sunglasses. But then she recalled the catastrophe vision. It flashed across her perception, but she was becoming more adept at suppressing it, and only saw enough to feel confident that horrible doom did not currently lurk in AT’s near future.
“What’s it look like?” she asked hesitantly. “Because I have some kind of new perception...”
“Do you? Awesome! An angel's mark is a symbol over their heads, usually. What do you see?”
“Disasters,” Marley said bleakly. Lissa hugged her leg again before returning to her pretend conversation with the dogs.
AT scrutinized her, then said, “That blows.” She brightened. “Maybe Corbin can help you out with that, too. He’s got some serious skills. He's, like, a Geometry hacker.”
“That’d be great.” Marley’s phone beeped as a text message arrived. It was a note from Penny.
Sorry about yesterday, I shouldn’t have run out on you like that. I was scared. Forgive me? And she remembered Penny saying, I dreamt of light.
Marley stared at her phone for a long minute. “Tell me more about this angel mark?”
AT looked curiously between the phone and Marley. “Well, it’s a symbol, kind of like zodiac symbols. It means their soul belongs to the angel’s house. The angel’s connected to them. Mostly angels only talk to people they’ve marked. That’s about it, really. It’s kind of a celestial bar code.”
“But the angel puts it there? Is it permanent?”
AT laughed a little, although Marley didn’t understand why. “Kind of. De—other celestials can remove it or replace it, and it’s harder to claim a soul if the soul is actively unwilling.”
“So it’s not mind control or anything?” Marley persisted.
AT gave her a thoughtful look. “The mark itself isn’t.”
Marley stared at the ground gloomily. Of course it wasn’t. No mind control was necessary to turn Penny’s head, just an attractive man who could convince her for a moment that she was beautiful. If Jeremy White hadn’t been so interested in the children, Marley wouldn’t have even considered sinister motives or methods. It would have just been Penny, trying once again to find herself in someone else.
She wondered what she would see if she looked at Penny with the catastrophe vision. But she already knew the answer to that, because the catastrophe vision had been there all along, suppressed by medication and misunderstanding. She could remember now what had been there since the beginning. This relationship Penny had found was bad, bad, bad. It was going to destroy her, and it wasn’t going to be by breaking her heart.
“If they have the mark, do they know about the, uh, angel who marked them?”
AT shrugged. “Everybody knows about angels, even if they don’t believe in them.”
“But you said it was easier if they were willing to be marked.” Marley paced along behind the bench.
“Yup. But that can just be a willingness to be part of something, or make a commitment. Like being baptized, or taking an oath.” She watched Marley's restless movement, her head cocked. “A lot of my relatives are very much against marking, but I'm not sure it's really a bad thing. For mortals, anyhow. I mean, we don’t know. It’s how they get to Heaven when they die. It’s the safe option.” AT looked apologetic. “Sorry I’m not making much sense. I have a friend who’s really into free will, and she says part of free will is knowing you can give it up.”
Marley had no idea what to make of that. So she focused on what was important. “I have a friend, too. I think she’s involved with this supposed angel’s group, but she doesn’t know it. And it's going to go badly for her. I can see it, see a disaster waiting for her. Or I could yesterday, anyhow. I need to go see her, see if there’s anything I can do for her. I know she won’t hurt me, so the worst she could do is pick up the phone and call her new boyfriend, right? And if you were outside, you could watch out for anybody showing up.”
The teenager sprang to her feet. “Wow. And this is a friend we’re talking about? A good friend?” When Marley nodded, she said, “Oh.” She stared down at her feet for a moment, then said, “Let’s go see her.” One of the dogs tilted its head at her and made a complicated growling whine. AT put her hands on her hip and said to the dog, “You cannot abandon friends in a situation like that, or else you will totally lose them to the other side.” Another growl. “I just know. You be quiet. Ignore him, Marley. You head over there and I’ll meet you.”
-fifteen-
On the way to Penny’s, Marley made some phone calls, first leaving a message for Branwyn and then letting Penny know of her plan to visit. Penny sounded normal on the phone. But that was one of her skills, along with finding a pretty smile for strangers even when she was empty inside.
“Are we going someplace not so hot, Marley?” asked Kari from her booster seat.
“Absolutely. Penny’s house has an excellent air conditioner. And a big TV with lots of videos.”
“The angel lady?” asked Kari, and Marley’s skin prickled.
“Angel Penny,” corrected Lissa.
“She’s just Penny,” Marley said, a little more sharply than she meant. “She doesn’t want to be somebody else.” Which was, she knew, the biggest lie she’d told the twins so far. Penny wanted to be anybody else. In college, she’d tried out six majors. She spent thousands on clothes and subscribed to dozens of magazines dedicated to helping her figure out who she was on any given day. Marley and Branwyn had become accustomed to it. She’d always been there for them, no matter what else she was pursuing, and it was the least they could do.
But—Angel Penny? Where did that lead?
Penny had an adorable Craftsman house on Orange Grove, purchased by her trust fund when she turned twenty-one. Although it was a lovely home with a gorgeous porch, Penny had been to Marley’s place far more than Marley had been to Penny’s. Penny loved to decorate the house, and hated to spend time there. Her mother, the big producer, sent photo shoots and film crews by occasionally. Like Penny in her childhood and adolescence, the house had been an extra in a number of movies. But while Penny was eventually able to convince her parents she didn’t want a career in front of a camera, the house had no such ability. The house represented everything they wanted for their daughter.
They rarely came to visit her there.
As Marley parked the car, AT loped around the corner of the block. Two of her dogs had vanished, and the third one, the red female, was on a leash. “Nice house,” she said, as she approached Marley.
“How’d you get here?” Marley asked. “Do you have a car? How can you track me by scent in a car? Where are the other two?”
<
br /> AT only smiled. “They’re around. Go see your friend; I’ll hang out here and try to get a look at her. Keep a lookout, that kind of thing.” She faded back to the curb.
As Marley looked at the house again, her phone rang. When she fished it out and looked at it, the number was unfamiliar. And she almost answered it, before she remembered Branwyn saying, I don't think you're being paranoid enough. She stared at the phone until it stopped ringing. A moment later, the message icon lit up.
Was listening to messages safe? She had no idea. Then Lissa said, “Was that Uncle Zach calling?” and Marley just had to find out.
It wasn't Zachariah. It was Jeremy White. “Hello, Miss Claviger. Sorry about yesterday afternoon; some of my assistants were hoping to curry additional favor with our employer.” He didn't even bother to try to sound honest. “I was personally hoping to give you one more opportunity to willingly surrender the children before my employer assigns the retrieval to somebody more experienced in direct action.” There was the sound of paper shuffling. “Call me back in the next hour if you'd like to avoid said direct action. I have to say, this guy is a real beast.”
“No,” said Marley flatly, putting away the phone. “Not Zachariah.” And she marched straight up to Penny's door.
Penny answered the chiming doorbell with a hostess’s smile, a wall of cool air coming with her. “Come in. I hope you don’t mind that the place is a mess.”
“There’s no mess that these two can’t improve,” Marley said gravely, as she ran a critical eye over her friend. To mundane vision, she looked normal. Despite the churning in her stomach, she kept the catastrophe vision suppressed until she could at least sit down.
Penny smiled down at the twins, and then looked over Marley’s shoulder at AT, who was loitering on the sidewalk inspecting her dog’s feet.
“Who’s that?”
Matchbox Girls Page 10
