by A. J. Downey
“Are you hurt?” Adelaide asked.
“Yes.” The claw marks were plain on my flesh. I suspected whoever had put the Demons into the hosts may have given them some extra enchantment for that fight. They’d cut deeper than they should have.
“Is it bad?” She made a move as if to examine the wound, but withdrew. Perhaps it was the brisk pace, or the fact that we were still being hunted, or maybe she didn’t understand how Angels bled. Whatever her reason, she didn’t try again.
“I’ve had worse.” I’d hoped that a little levity might improve her spirits, maybe improve the mood, but she looked somber at my comment. She may have looked a bit sad. “We got what we came for.”
“So, when do we find out if the book we took is the right one?”
“It’s the right one,” I assured her. “It was the only one with celestial power… that we could see.” Of course they were all protected from my sight. So I stopped, and cracked open the book in the doorway of a closed business.
Adelaide immediately began ripping off a small section of my shirt, which had been significantly damaged already, wrapping it around my shoulder as best she could, using it as a makeshift bandage.
The contents of the book read as I would have expected them to, which is to say like nothing out of the ordinary. Piorre was journaling his path to understanding the Grace without using any language that would let on exactly what he was doing. He’d memorized or hidden the formula someplace else; this was simply a progress report.
Adelaide peered curiously across the top of the book, down at the words. “Is it the book? For unfolding and keys and all that?” She looked at me, and a car passed by on the street. We’d need to tend to the wounds more thoroughly, she’d need food, and we needed to read – without drawing too much attention.
One hasty washing-off of blood and one cab ride later, we were sitting in a greasy-spoon diner near the center of the city. People stared. Perhaps it was the bandages under my leather coat, or the mussed appearance I displayed, but it seemed that I was drawing attention. After a moment, I realized it was the fact that I had not changed clothes since I’d been to Earth, and Adelaide, freshly scrubbed in a fancy vintage Asian-style dress over her jeans, made for quite the contrast.
Rather than correct the problem, I ignored it. They were looking at us for a reason outside of the reason I’d hoped to avoid them looking at us, so I let it go.
Adelaide, shifting in her seat, began to speak quietly. “I think I figured some of this out on my own, so can I just tell you what I think is going on and have you correct me if I am wrong? It might be easier than a whole bunch of little questions.”
I nodded.
“Okay then,” she continued. “I got to work, and my boss was on the floor dying. I couldn’t find a phone, and I didn’t want to leave him, and I saw one under a desk. I grabbed it, and an awful sound came out of it, and a projector came on, but it wasn’t a projector was it? It was whatever Piorre put into me coming online. The Angel’s Grace, you said. Whatever that is.”
I nodded again.
“Then that Rahab guy showed up, and he was some sort of Demon.”
“Not a Demon, but one of the Fallen, yes,” I corrected softly. The distinctions might not come easy to her, but I had agreed to set her straight.
“Okay, not a Demon, but a Fallen Angel.” She took a breath. “Then we went to a frat house that wasn’t a frat house but some kind of HQ for the Archangels, where we met Uriel, Gabriel and Michael, and I had my first solid vision thing from this Grace stuff.”
I once more nodded. That had been my indication that the bonding had happened, after all.
“I saw something, but I don’t know how this Grace stuff works, I’m pretty sure it just shows me shit that’s already happened, and I’m not gonna lie, Tab: what I saw was pretty awful. If you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine, but can you at least confirm or deny if it was something that really happened?”
“I’d need to know what you saw.” I had my fears.
Another deep breath from Adelaide, and those fears were quietly confirmed. Changes in lighting and stone walls had led to a stone table, blood, and me. Her eyes occasionally went to my now-cropped shirt, perhaps wondering if there were scars on my chest underneath.
“Yes,” I said. “That happened.”
Her face fell further. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Okay.” I was grateful that Adelaide let it go. She took a breath, and continued. “So I came to outside of London, and you looked fit to be tied, then you said something about pulling the Grace from my being, which I am guessing is what is giving me these looks into the past. You wanted it out of me and thought it would get sorted separately.”
I nodded. “I had initially thought that.” I didn’t want to focus on my misjudgment of Iaoel and did not precisely need to, as she’d asked me only to correct her when she said something inaccurate.
“At this point all these questions come up, but we’ll get to that later. Thank you for being patient with me. Where was I?”
“The Abbey,” I said, preparing myself for the barrage of questions about Hadad. His names, nature, and history were complex enough for even a more focused and informed person.
“Right, so you said something about this Grace stuff being in me and some mess it once caused, and before I know it, we’re marching up the road to see an old enemy of yours. So when you were talking to the scary dude with the bad tan, that was about when I figured out that this Grace thing had me seeing things, I just wasn’t sure if those things happened in the past or not and was going to ask you later, but that question is answered so moving on…”
At this sudden efficiency, even in the face of her apparent need to remember everything aloud in the hopes of clarity, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know what Hadad is?”
“He’s a right scary motherfucker,” she replied. “That’s what he is.”
“Fair enough. You wanted to move on?”
If her intent expression did not quash any desire for laughter, her responding question. “Yeah, okay. So who is Iaoel and where did you hide her?”
I hoped that shutting my eyes would be betray less of a reaction than showing them. “She was the Angel of Visions,” I said, more glad than ever that we were being quiet. “When her physical expression was destroyed, I hid her Grace in Piorre, years ago.”
“Holy crap, that’s what’s in my head? Some Angel’s soul?”
“The closest equivalent possible. Now, I believe you were reviewing our visit to the Abbey.”
“Right. So aside from even more traumatizing stuff I didn’t need, and something about some keys, I mostly got a pretty, if scary, but still useful necklace out of that encounter, and then all of a sudden we’re outside a ramshackle village in apparently Chile with two trucks full of Demons coming at us. By then I was about to have a full-on melt down and told you so, and then you brought me to Seattle, and we grabbed my boss’ journal…and here we are. So what exactly is going on, Tab? No bullshit, I’m scared, and I’m trying, but forewarned is forearmed, and I feel like I am way behind on the learning curve.” She sat back in her seat and sagged a bit, her dark blue eyes tight with worry, her attention full on me.
“What’s precisely been going on,” I finally said, still quietly, “has changed from preventing your murder by Rahab – or by Michael when it turned out the Grace could not be extracted easily – to preventing Judgment Day. Information about the keys and about the Judgment changes everything. We must get to the keys first, which means unfolding the Grace, something Piorre was trying to do. You’ll need to follow the same path.”
“Only without the getting killed part at the end,” she clarified, her expression somber and far from glib.
“Ideally,” I affirmed.
“So, how do I do this?” She took the diary in her hands.
I leaned forward and st
arted to explain. “The diary itself is nothing but footprints in the sand. We can track his progress to or away from an important landmark. We can determine what his motivation was. Failing at that, we could probably try to achieve the same results by performing the same action. For example, if he was looking up people and apologizing to them, he’s trying to clear the slate and take a burden off of his conscience.”
“I see,” she said. “If he’s looking for ways to give back to the community, he’s repenting for past indiscretions. Like that?”
“Yes.”
“So all I need to do is read the diary.” She took the journal from my hand and opened it up to the front, a lock of her hair dangled down between her eyes and mine as she read. I watched her quietly until her eyes came off of the book and met my own.
“Why are you staring at me?”
I looked left and right at the people in seats all around us. “Am I bothering you?”
“Not exactly, but you’re staring. Just, I don’t know, look someplace else.”
I was confused. “I thought you liked to be looked at. It’s why you put so much effort into looking a certain way.” As I said the last, the waitress arrived and smiled at me.
“Trust me,” the young woman said. “Every girl likes to be noticed. It’s just a matter of what form that attention takes,” she offered.
“Oh great,” I heard Adelaide mumble under her breath, as if hoping I didn’t hear.
“What form should it take?” My inquiry was honest, but found myself being glared at from under the same chestnut locks I was just told not to stare at.
“Well,” the waitress began, “That depends on how long you two have been going out. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have water and a house salad, no dressing.” We looked at Adelaide expectantly, but she seemed stuck with a look that I didn’t recognize on her face.
Finally she blurted out, “We’re so not going out!”
The waitress looked at me nervously. “Okay, what can I get you?”
Adelaide shook her head and looked back down at the menu. “Right, uh eggs. Sunny side up and a side of toast. Dry, no jam.”
Given the waitress’ apparent nervousness, I was impressed at how she excused herself in a professional manner, as if extracting herself from a dangerous situation. The social tension would have to wait, seeing as there was important reading to be done.
Adelaide was clearly looking down in the direction of the book, but she was no longer turning pages. It became apparent she wasn’t reading at all when she looked up at me, shrugged, and said, “I don’t even find you attractive.”
“Is there something in the journal that requires you find me attractive?” This only seemed to aggravate her more. I tried to peek over the top of the book to see what section she was on.
She snapped the book shut. “Never mind. I have to go to the ladies’ room.” She scooted out of the booth and headed toward the sign that said ‘Bar.’
The table to my left caught my attention, when I figured out they were laughing and commenting on the situation at mine. They were all teens, two boys, two girls, all in variations of essentially the same thing: flannel, piercings, and tattoos.
“She’s totally into you, dude,” their blond-boy-alpha-apparent said. They must have caught my confusion, because everyone started laughing again.
“You’re totally clueless, aren’t you?” One of the girls, this time. I didn’t like it, but wasn’t entirely sure what they were talking about. She shook her head and smiled. “Just don’t be surprised when she keeps getting mad at you for what’s going to seem like no reason then.”
“Don’t envy you, dude,” said the brown-haired boy.
They got my attention off the journal long enough to figure out what they meant. If it was true, and Adelaide did have feelings for me, we were in trouble. I’d have to do something.
As Adelaide returned from whence she went, I stood and left money on the table. I intercepted her by putting my arm around her waist and walking her out the front door.
“What…” She trailed off when she felt how urgent my movements were. I led her around the corner and then pushed her up against the wall.
“Whoa!” She put her hands up, and I waited for her to push me, but she didn’t. I put my right hand in her hair and leaned forward. She stopped breathing. As I leaned into her, she was paralyzed, unable to move. When I was very close to her, I spoke in a low tone.
“It is important to me that you know what we’re doing here and how critical it is that we succeed.”
She swallowed and started breathing, as I continued. “The fate of your entire planet hangs in the balance, and your personal feelings cannot get in the way. I did not come here to date you, or fall in love with you, or have any part in your life. I came here to pull the Grace from your being and send you back to your life. I came here to stop Heaven or Hell from spilling out on your world. Do you think ‘Judgment Day’ is a happy day? It is not. Many, many, people will die. That is why I am here, and for no other reason. Am I being absolutely clear?”
She looked up at me, her eyes hardening. “Are you done?” she asked. “‘cause if you’re done we need to get something clear. You’re pretty to look at, Tab, but ever since you came into my life, it’s been one shit storm after another. You know what? Seriously, you need to get the fuck off me.” She pushed me and slipped out from under my arm stepping just out of my reach.
“You keep saying that you want to pull this Grace shit outta me and send me back to my life, but what fucking life? Are you going to fix the cops and the fact that my boss, my friend, is dead for me too?” She stared at me accusingly. I said nothing.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. I get what this means, and I am trying to be a good girl and follow orders here but it’s hard when you act like such a goddamned douche.”
She didn’t seem to be interested romantically in me, so I leaned back. “How I treat you isn’t an issue here. If you’re willing to let yourself die, let your planet die because you’re offended, then that’s your choice. That’s the whole reason I’m here is to give you a choice. Without me, they’re the ones that choose your destiny. I suggest you focus on that. As to your life…”
I stopped talking because I didn’t have an answer. I thought maybe a second of silence would allow me time to think of one. I was wrong. “I’m sorry about your life. All we can do is look to the road ahead.”
“Whatever.” She stopped herself from saying more and looked away. “Whatever.”
“Let’s go get your car back.” This made her look back up at me.
“I thought you said – ”
“I know what I said,” I interrupted. “And now I’m saying this.” I started walking down the street, adding to no one in particular, “Besides, I need to speak with Michael.” I had to know for sure.
The bus ride was silent, and she sat on the aisle across from me. She didn’t look at me once, appearing to be lost in her own thoughts. Once we got off the bus, I tried to go over the plan with her, but she didn’t communicate with me unless she had to. By the time we reached frat row, I could only hope that she understood the directions I had given her. From my hiding place I watched her walk, keys in hand, to her car. I could see Raphael move toward her, then pull back, fearful it was a trap. He had every right to be. It was, in the end, Michael that approached her, and I slammed into him from the side within a foot of her.
Adelaide was startled but didn’t drop the keys. I had told her it was very important that she not drop the keys. Michael was keeping us in real time, so it looked like two people struggling on the front lawn. I used my power to keep the others at bay, while I struggled with Michael. It was all a matter of leverage, and Michael had none. The Earth was where I started from. It was my center of gravity, and my power was designed to keep his influence Heaven-ward. They all struggled against me, but I could hold them for long enough for Adelaide to get away, and he knew it. This is why he let her see the struggle,
or more importantly, hear it.
“Have you told her what she’s preventing, Tabbris?” I pushed harder, trying to keep him off balance so that Adelaide could get away. “Have you told her what your plans for her are? Did you tell her that you contemplated killing her, even planned it?”
It was clear to me what he was trying to do, and it was working. Adelaide stopped. She didn’t turn around, because I’d warned her of what an Archangel could do if she looked him in the eyes. I could see, however, that she paused deliberately, to allow Michael to go on.
“I told her what you planned to do, to slaughter millions.” I shifted and let him take a step forward as if I were weakening. He didn’t take the opportunity to push, only to lean closer to Adelaide, to make himself heard.
“Only the unrighteous, the damned, and the evil! It seems to me that the Earth could use a few less of those. Is she willing to give her life so that darkness can swallow the sky and the Fallen can claim the planet?” I shifted again, putting my back to Gabriel. I needed to see where he stood in this exchange. Happily, he didn’t push.
“Don’t listen to him, Adelaide. Drive.” She turned her head but didn’t look at me.
“You can all go to hell,” she intoned, and with purpose, she opened the door and closed it. I heard her start the car.
“I can’t let her go.” Michael pushed his influence toward me with all his might, and his brothers aided him. He fell for my ruse of weakness as I’d hoped he would. Powerful and professional, he was also the strongest of the Archangels, and that leads to just the slightest bit of overconfidence.
As my back bowed and I strained against him, I looked up into his eyes. “With all due respect, brother, you don’t have a choice.” The surprise on his face may have signed a death warrant for me in Heaven, but it was truly worth it. A wave of my hand and a couple of holy words, and I completed a rejoining spell, calling all of the present hosts of Heaven to the frat house sanctuary. Of course, I was pulled to the target destination myself, drawn halfway across the lawn in an instant, but unlike the others, I was expecting it, and had a few moments to get away while they were disoriented.
