If I’m right, which I hope I’m not for once, Nephilim are half angel, and half human.
I might be the daughter of an angel.
6
My head is reeling. I can almost feel my mind shutting down, everything pulsing, my head throbbing like there’s something inside hammering its way out. I’m human. I have to be, I always have been. I can’t be half angel, that just sounds… crazy. But at the same time, I don’t think I’m wrong. The clues I’ve been handed have all led me here.
Out of curiosity, and to distract myself from the gnawing feeling that everything I know about myself is a lie, I try researching angels as well. From what Google is telling me, they’re mostly just men with wings. Some women too, but they’re apparently not as common. Next on my list of research topics is Michael, and I’m easily led towards a page showing Michael as a soldier, his wings spread out wide, and a flaming sword in his hand. The painting at the top of the article even looks like him, his blonde hair and golden skin surprisingly accurate for a painting of someone who shouldn’t actually exist. The only thing the artist got wrong was the color of his eyes. My eyes.
I jump when I hear something moving in the kitchen, and rush over to see what’s going on. I don’t know why I’d been expecting an intruder; I suppose maybe that’s what I wanted, someone to take out my frustration on. But it’s just my mom, making a sandwich for herself. When she spots me, her face lights up, and for a moment I forget that there’s anything wrong. She smiles and says, “Hey, kid. I didn’t know you were home! You hungry?”
I’m not. In fact, I’m sick to my stomach. And the more I look at my mother, the sicker I feel. The rush of okayness that came with seeing her fades as quickly as it sprang into being. Without thinking, I blurt out, “You lied to me.”
“I did? About what?”
At first, I can’t answer. I’d had the courage to start this conversation, but it’s faltering now that we’re actually having it. Before I lose all my resolve, I dart into the living room to grab my laptop, and place it down on the counter in front of my mom, with the page featuring Michael’s likeness still open. My voice shakes a little more than I’d like it to, but I slowly tell her, “I know. About my father… everything you’ve ever told me about him was a lie.”
My mother’s face pales as my words sink in, and she abandons her lunch to try and hug me, but I back away from her. She lets her arms hang down by her sides, and says, “I wanted to tell you, Heather…”
“What stopped you?”
“I was hoping he was full of it, and that you would come out normal. I thought I might be able to protect you if I kept you in the dark-“
“Wait… you knew? You knew Michael was an angel?”
“He didn’t tell me until after I had you, but yes.”
I reach out a hand to steady myself on the counter. It feels like the world is spinning. She knew. She knew Michael wasn’t human, that I wouldn’t grow up normal. What else did he tell her? I have to know. I do my best to look my mother in the eye, and ask, “Did Michael ever tell you his plans for me?”
“Yes.”
“And what, you were okay with that? Raising a lamb for the slaughter?”
“That’s not how it was-“
“Bullshit, mom!” I don’t normally swear in front of her, but right now, I’m too pissed to care. Other people keeping things from me is something of a pet peeve, but it’s still to be expected. But I trust my mother more than anything, and she’s the one that’s been withholding the biggest secrets for the longest. That’s unacceptable. “If you knew what he had planned, then you know there’s another person like me around. Another ‘Nephilim’. And when we meet, it’s kill or be killed.”
“What was I supposed to do, kill my own child? I didn’t know anything until I had you, and I asked him to stay away from us afterwards. I couldn’t-“
“You could have told me! You could have prepared me for this! Or if you wanted a ‘normal’ child so badly, you could have gotten rid of me, hooked up with somebody normal, and tried again!”
That might have been taking it too far. My mom’s blinking back tears now, but to be fair, I’m in danger of having to do the same. “You wouldn’t understand,” she says, “because you’ve never been a mother. But I loved you the moment I first saw you. And when I first held you, I knew I could never even consider giving you up. Not then and not now.”
I suppose I should thank her for having a moral objection to giving me up. Maybe even try to forgive her for lying to my face for nineteen years. But I can’t right now. The wound’s too fresh. I slam my laptop shut, and scoop it up as I turn out of the room.
“Where are you going?,” my mom calls after me.
“Away,” is the best answer I can manage.
I can hear the hurt in my mother’s tone the next time she speaks. “Are you coming back?”
I don’t know where it is I’m going, or how long I’m going to be gone, but I reply, “…Yeah. I’ll be back. I just… Right now, I just need to get out of here.”
***
I hadn’t planned on taking the subway to Alyssa’s loft. She’s not exactly my first choice for company right now; I’m still a little upset with her, but whether it’s because of how I met her girlfriend, or the fact that she has one, I can’t tell. But out of my trusted circle, she’s the only person I can turn to. Right now, I can’t trust my mother any further than I can throw her. The same goes for Nick, after what happened this morning. Rachel would be sympathetic, but she wouldn’t really understand. Jenna would understand even less, considering she’s the only normal person left in my life, and barely has time for me and Rachel between school and her ridiculous work schedule. Krystal is busy handling the Caelestia clan’s affairs, and Landon’s latest work is being put up in a gallery at MOMA, so naturally, that’s how I wound up sitting on Alyssa’s couch, with her cat Gideon sprawled out on my lap.
Alyssa, for her part, listens quietly while I tell her everything that’s happened over the past few days. I even include the part where Nick and I have sex, even though I’m sure it kills her to hear about us. I can’t help it; once I start talking, everything spills out. Alyssa takes it all in without comment until I’m finished, and the weight of unsaid words is off my shoulders. It isn’t until then that she voices her one observation: “Things tend to get really fucked up, really quickly when you’re involved.”
“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”
“At least your life isn’t boring.”
“Allie. Helping or hurting?”
“Sorry. It’s just, there’s not much I can say. You’ve been dealt a shitty hand, but that doesn’t mean the game stops just for you. You need to figure out how to work with what cards you’ve got.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I frown down on Gideon, who’s looking up at a strand of my hair like he’s ready to pounce. She’s right, of course; the world isn’t going to stop for me just because I’m having a shitty week, even when it’s being caused by people I love. And that’s one of the many reasons I like having Alyssa on my side. What comes out of her mouth is often pretty harsh, but it’s always what you need to hear. When I look up, she’s giving me her worried look, so I clear my throat and ask, “What should I do?”
“About the angel thing? You can’t exactly change your genetics.”
“Yeah, no shit. Any other nuggets of wisdom you’d like to share?”
“I don’t know. Maybe there’s a way to contact Michael, and have him teach you how to track down the other Nephilim before they become a problem.”
Now it’s my turn to fix Alyssa with a worried stare. “Do you know me at all? Allie, look at me. I can’t kill anyone-“
“You can, easily. You just won’t.”
“Because it’s wrong!”
“True. But if Michael’s telling the truth, it would be for the greater good.”
“If the ‘greater good’ involves killing innocent people, then I want no part in it.”
Alyssa let
s out a sigh, and leans back in her armchair. “Fine. Play hero. See where that gets you. I’m just saying, it’s an option.”
“What are the others?”
“Pretend there is no problem until things get out of hand. That’s always worked out so well in the past.”
I shrug, and look down at Gideon while I scratch the orange patch of fur just under his chin. He starts purring, and I decide that I like animals a hell of a lot more than I like people right now.
A teapot in the kitchen starts whistling, and Alyssa gets up to take it off the stove. She fills our mugs with piping hot water, and says, “As for the rest of it… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you need to go easy on Nick.”
“What?” I can’t believe what I just heard, either. Alyssa and Nick might be civil towards one another, but they’re not friends by any stretch of the imagination. And she’d normally never take his side.
“Think about it. Last week he knew who and what he was, but now his whole world has probably been turned on its head. Doesn’t that sound familiar?”
I glare at Alyssa, but I don’t answer. Of course it does.
“He’s probably having just as much trouble adjusting to things as you are. And when you throw in the fact that his family doesn’t want him around, he’s probably hurting in a huge way. You can’t imagine how much that sort of thing stings.”
And she’s right, I can’t. But she can; I still remember visiting Alyssa’s mother with her last year, and seeing the degree to which she hated her own daughter. I never would have thought Alyssa and Nick would have anything in common, but it at least explains why she’s being sympathetic towards him. “Fine,” I mutter as I throw up my hands in defeat. “So I’m not the only one going through a lot. I guess I’ll let him off the hook for now.”
“Good. Now, as for your mom-“
“No. I wasn’t exactly nice to her, but I’m not about to forgive her so easily.”
Alyssa comes back into the living room, holding two steaming mugs of raspberry zinger. She takes a seat next to me on the couch, prompting Gideon to migrate onto her lap instead of mine. As I take my first sip, she says, “You can’t keep lashing out at people when they try to protect you the only way they know how. You need to go back and apologize.”
“How could you possibly take her side on this?”
“Maybe I wish I could have the kind of relationship with my mom that you do.”
Using the broken home card was low of her, but again, I know Alyssa is right. I do have to fix things with my mom. But I’m not ready to do so just yet. “Fine. Just, not tonight.”
“Fine. You can crash here until you’re ready.”
“Are you sure?”
Alyssa leans in close, and whispers, “Please stay. I know I needed roommates, but Holly and Joseph are the worst company I could have asked for. People on the outside are the only reason I’m still sane.”
“What’s so bad about them?”
“They’re both way too bitchy, and loud. It’s hard to write in this kind of environment. And-”
I wait for Alyssa to continue her sentence, then realize why she stopped seconds later. Almost on cue, Joseph emerges from his room with a stack of dishes in one hand, and his cell phone in the other. He dumps the dishes into the sink and returns to his room, without looking up from his text or acknowledging either me or Alyssa. As soon as his door slams shut, Alyssa continues, “And they seem to think that just because they’re living in my space, keeping it clean is my responsibility.”
I groan in sympathy; part of the reason I chose not to go away for college was to avoid living with people I can’t stand. “Sure, I’ll stay. I probably just need a night away.”
“Alright. But since I’m doing you a favor, I’d like you to do one for me.”
“Should have known.”
“Again, can’t believe I’m saying this, but… I want you and Nick to hang out with me and Lily sometime.”
“A double date? With you?”
Alyssa shrugs, and says, “Lily keeps complaining that she hasn’t met any of my friends, and you’re pretty much the only person I care enough about to call a friend. It’ll be awkward-“
“An even bigger understatement than earlier.”
“-but I think if we all put our histories aside, it could be fun. Who knows, you might actually end up liking her.”
I think back on the night I met Lily, and how she carried herself. How she dressed, how her makeup was done, how her hair was cut. How it felt when I saw her kissing Alyssa. I don’t see myself liking her much.
Then again, I never saw myself being friends with Alyssa either. Maybe I can afford to give her girlfriend a second chance.
“Fine. Next time we’re all free on the same night, we’ll go out to eat.”
7
For a moment, I’m not sure where I am when I wake up the next morning. Nothing about the room I’m in feels familiar. Then, I spot Alyssa, fast asleep face-up on the couch across from mine, and remember staying up all night watching Two Broke Girls on Netflix. She refused to leave me in the living room alone, instead opting to change into pajamas and sleep out here with me. She’s a different person when she’s asleep. The hardness about her face and personality must be learned, because she looks peaceful in this one moment. Content, even. Especially without the thick rimmed glasses.
I take advantage of the opportunity to observe her carefully, without anyone around to see, or judge me for doing so. She groans a little in her sleep, and rolls over onto her side, the sheet covering her shifting so that her legs are visible. My eyes are drawn to the faint white marks on her thighs, but I try not to stare. We all have parts of our past that we wish we could forget, and I guess some of the darker parts of hers will never completely fade.
My eyes travel up to her t-shirt, and even through her tangled dirty blonde hair, I can see the ironed on insignia of the Ramones. A band I know she doesn’t listen to; I’ve seen the contents of her iPod enough times to know that. I get the feeling that the shirt might be Lily’s.
I suddenly regret agreeing to a double date with the two of them.
I look at the time on my phone, noting that my mom should be getting home from work soon. I admit, I do feel a little guilty about leaving things the way I did. Luckily, I’d slept in my clothes from the day before, so I don’t need to change. I can shower at home when I get there. I scribble a note to Alyssa telling her that I went home to face my mom, and leave it on the coffee table next to her glasses. I take one last look at her sleeping form, then walk through the front door, locking it behind me with a spell.
I could have teleported home, but I’m in no rush to get there.
My mom and I are polite enough to each other when I finally do make it home. In fact, things are fine for the next few weeks, just frosty and punctuated with awkward silences. I said some things that must have hurt her more than I’ll ever know, and even though I apologized profusely the morning after the fight, I don’t entirely regret saying them. Keeping things from me is an offense I take seriously. All the same, I miss the way things used to be. Between the two of us, we always made this apartment feel full, but lately the space between us leaves it feeling cold and empty.
Things with Nick, on the other hand, remain mostly unchanged. I’m not even sure if he really noticed I’d been upset with him. He spends most of his time under Navarro’s supervision, but calls me every night once they’re done doing God knows what to him. I’ve asked what sort of tests they’re doing on him, but he won’t say. Or rather, can’t; whatever Navarro’s research team is up to, their techniques and results are apparently classified information.
I told Nick about the double date the night after I promised we would go, and he wasn’t happy, but he agreed to come along. More to make sure I keep my word than out of any desire to spend time in Alyssa’s company. I believe his exact words were, “I guess if she’s moved on from you, I might be able to handle a meal in her presence.”
If h
e knew how much the idea of her moving on stung, he might have reconsidered.
They aren’t done testing Nick until a few weeks after I proposed the idea to him, and we all happen to have no plans on his first night of freedom, so it’s then that Alyssa and I arrange for all of us to meet at the Olive Garden in Times Square. Nick and I are the first ones there, but we don’t have long to wait before Lily’s sleek black motorcycle pulls up, and Alyssa hops off of the back. The three of us head upstairs to reserve our table, while Lily takes on the arduous task of finding a place to park in Times Square.
Half an hour later, we’re all seated in a booth, waiting for our food with nothing to say. I don’t know what I expected; I can’t remember Alyssa and Nick ever speaking without it being absolutely necessary, Lily and I have practically nothing in common, and I can’t focus on either my friend or my boyfriend without the other thinking I’m neglecting them. This is so much more stressful than dates of the one-on-one variety.
I’m just about to comment on the awkward silence when Lily reaches into her bag under the table, and pulls out an old school black notebook that looks like it’s been through hell. She jots something down, and grins sheepishly when she notices Nick and I watching. “Sorry,” she says. “Sometimes I get ideas for song lyrics, and have to jot them down before I forget them.”
“How many of them become full songs?,” Nick asks.
“All of them, eventually. I just save most of them for myself. The ones I let the rest of the band read are the ones we get to play.”
“You’re in a band?”
“Yep. I play bass for Interrobang.”
“Interrobang?”
“Yeah, we’re an all girl post-punk group. You guys should come see us. I can get you into practically any show for free.”
“I’ve written a couple of songs,” I blurt out. I don’t know why; maybe part of me wants to be on even footing with Lily. “None of them have ever seen the light of day, though.”
“Really?” Lily’s attention shifts to me, and for a split second, I regret opening my mouth. Then, she asks, “Why not?”
Shattered (the Spellbound Series Book 2) Page 5
