Angelborn

by L. Penelope

  Crushing on someone else’s man is kinda normal, though, I guess. But I hate being in the same room with them. And I hate that I stay on purpose just to torture myself. But today it was too much. I had to bail.

  I head off campus, leaving the path bordered by blue security lights, trying to clear my head and walk off some nervous energy. There’s this bubbling, vile poison inside me that wants to lash out at someone, anyone. At Caleb for making me want him, at Genna for being perfect enough to get him without even trying. Mostly at myself, though.

  It’s dusk, but the city is oddly quiet. A dead man stands on the yellow lines in the middle of the street wearing a construction hat and a fluorescent orange vest. An older woman follows a young mother pushing a stroller down the sidewalk. The woman is barefoot and wears a hospital gown, untied in the back, but she’s unaffected by the cold. I zip my hoodie tighter around my neck and am careful not to make eye contact. The woman reminds me of Miss Sadie, watching over me for all those years. I haven’t thought about her in a long time.

  I step to the side to let them pass into the coffee shop behind me when a conspicuous orange-red light shines from within the alley.

  A James Dean-type leans against the wall in front of me, clutching an unlit cigarette in his shaking fingers. His white T-shirt is painted with bloodstains.

  “Hey, you got a light?” he says. I ignore him and crane my neck to squint over his shoulder into the brightness.

  Not one but two angels are there. My heart nearly stops. I’ve never seen two at once, but thoughts of Caleb’s Vultures freeze me in place. Then I see a pair of ragged boots on the ground. The boots twitch, and the body attached stands, but an identical pair of feet remains on the concrete. My shoulders relax a bit; at least one of these is an Angel of Death.

  I wonder what her pitch is? “Come with me if you want to — ” not live, not die, maybe live again? I’ve never been religious, not only because of the visible evidence that most of what the preachers said was crap, but because if there was a higher power, he or she had ignored me since birth. A little divine intervention would have been nice.

  The dead guy is homeless, he’s agitated and shaky, probably just OD’d. Those types usually act erratically in their afterlife, like they’re stuck forever on a trip gone wrong. The homeless guy mutters and starts shuffling away from the angels. They don’t do anything. All I can see is light, no heads or faces, but I get the impression that they’re watching him leave.

  He walks toward me, muttering under his breath.

  “Hey,” I say to him. His eyes are wild and unfocused. Clumps of hair are matted to his head. “You should go back with them. There’s nothing out there for you.” He doesn’t listen and shuffles past me out into the street.

  I shake my head. The angels are still there, and now it feels like they’re staring at me.

  Something shoots through me, maybe it’s a residual of the few hours I spent blissfully free of the dead. Seeing the world the way normal people do. Knowing what I’ve been missing. What life could have been like. All I know is I’m angry. For me, for Caleb, for all the dead who wander the world — it isn’t right. Before I know it, I’m stalking down the alley to come face-to-light with these two angels.

  I’d expected heat based on the brightness, but there isn’t anything — just blobs of illumination in vaguely person-like shapes. I round on them.

  “Why don’t you make them go with you? Why leave them to just wander around? What do you think they can do here? Take care of unfinished business? No one can see them! No one but me. You know sometimes they go crazy, right?” I want to pull up my sleeve and show them my arm, my useless left hand, but I don’t. It’s too personal, and I’m too mad. “If you all are supposed to care for us, to help us, then don’t just leave them here wandering around mindlessly. Take them wherever they’re supposed to go. Let them be reborn or whatever. It’s cruel.”

  My voice is shaking by the end of my rant, and I feel spent. My body sags, and suddenly I wonder if I was wrong in my assessment. Caleb said the Vultures always traveled in twos, and their light is supposed to be black somehow. I’m certain one of these is an Angel of Death. The other one shines a few shades lighter, with more of a yellowish tint. This one dims while the Angel of Death darts into the air like a flare and disappears.

  My anger dissolves, leaving me empty and cold. I turn and make my way toward the front of the alley when I hear a voice behind me.

  “They must have a choice.”

  My heart races, and I turn back.

  I don’t know what I expected an angel to look like in human form, but the man behind me is not it. Based on Caleb’s smooth and innocent face, I thought a full angel might be much the same way. This man appears to be a few years older than me. Bright blue eyes regard me from a rugged face. His eyes have premature crinkles like he’s been working in the sun, and there’s a sturdy masculinity to him that I didn’t expect. Short curly brown hair covers his head. He’s dressed simply in a loose-fitting black shirt and pants, feet bare.

  His words hit me, but they’re hard to believe. “A choice? How can they make a choice? Most of what people believe about death and the afterlife seems to be complete bullshit. So what are they basing this choice on? Do you tell them what choosing to stay here really means?” I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  He looks at me like I’ve grown two heads. Intelligent eyes assess me, and I force myself not to cower under their intense regard.

  “Do they get a second chance, at least?” I ask.

  He nods. “But those are much harder to come by.” His speech is accented, though I can’t quite pick out from where. He takes a step closer to me. “How do you know so much about this?”

  My bravado is gone. I shrink into myself. His stance is strong and confident — of course it is, he’s a friggin’ angel. He’s got all kinds of powers and could probably smite me where I stand. But he doesn’t look ready to smite, he looks curious.

  “I can see them,” I tell him. “I can see you, in your angel form. The dead are everywhere, it’s like they’re infecting the earth. It’s irresponsible.”

  He takes a step closer, and a chill descends on me. I find myself backed against the brick wall.

  “You’re not a Vulture, are you?” I whisper.

  This makes him pause. He tilts his head to the side. “A Vulture?”

  “Angelic guardian of the Wasteland?”

  An eyebrow cocks up. “I’ll have to tell them that’s what you call them. But how could you know about them?”

  My mouth snaps shut. No way am I telling him about Caleb.

  He studies me as you would a spider before crushing it. “I’m not a Guardian. Though what I cannot figure out is what exactly you are.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Just a fucked-up human. Not much to figure out.”

  “I cannot read you.”

  “Sorry?”

  He reaches out and before I can move, his hand covers my forehead. I don’t feel his skin on me, but a glow that encompasses his hand. All of a sudden, something inside me shuts off. I stagger away from him, feeling the same emptiness, the same lightness I felt when Caleb removed my power.

  I stumble to the mouth of the alley and look out. The mother with her stroller exits the coffee shop alone. The man standing in the street is gone.

  “You took it.” I spin around, surprised to find the angel standing very close to me.

  “Maia,” he says. “You’re a very interesting girl.”

  “Who are you?” My breath hitches.

  “I am Helix,” he says, holding out his hand. I hesitate before reaching out to shake it. His hand is smooth and cool, not warm and comforting like Caleb’s. A thread of fear snakes through me.

  “How did you know my name?”

  “You’re helping a fugitive.” He clicks his tongue, his blue eyes intense.

  My heart stutters, and dread fills me. “Are you in my head?”

  He squints slightly. “You
r head is very intriguing. Your Sight was blocking me, but without it — your mind is simply radiant.” He smiles a huge, gleaming smile that transforms his face into something scarier. Charm and good looks and a layer of unhinged menace. I know that smile because I give it to people to keep them away, but I think this is just the way Helix looks.

  “Are you going to turn him in?” The bottom drops out of my stomach. What the hell have I done? I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have stuck to the plan: ignore, ignore, ignore. If I’m responsible for Caleb being sent back … I never thought things could get worse, but I was so wrong.

  “Why do you want to help him?” His face is inscrutable. I don’t know what he wants to hear, so I just tell the truth.

  “He’ll remove my powers permanently once Genna agrees to bind him.”

  “But I’ve already removed them. They’re gone.” He spreads his arms.

  “I need them back.” One of his brows shoots up in surprise.

  “But you hate the Sight. It’s the cause of every bad thing that’s ever happened to you.”

  “Yes, but I promised to help him.” Besides, there’s something very untrustworthy about this angel. I’d rather pin my hopes on Caleb than on this unknown being.

  Helix takes a step back and leans against the brick wall, crossing his arms and his ankles, looking very relaxed. I take a deep breath. “I need to be able to warn him when the Vultures are near. He’s got to get Genna to bind so he’ll have a soul … you must know all this.”

  He closes his eyes as if he’s accessing the data in my head. It’s disconcerting knowing that someone is rooting around inside my thoughts and memories. “Human thoughts are so jumbled, they turn in on themselves constantly, especially when matters of the heart are concerned. Why do you care so much for the halfling?”

  “Living in a place like the Wasteland with no hope? For eternity? To sacrifice everything for a chance at love?” The enormity of Caleb’s risk hits me, maybe for the first time. “To be loved like that?” I whisper to myself, then shake my head to clear away the forbidden longings that threaten to rear their heads.

  “Please don’t turn him in. Have you been there? Do you know what it’s like? I don’t know where it is you come from, or what all the rules are, but you can’t send him back there — not when he has a real chance.”

  Helix smiles. It’s a different smile, one full of mischief and maybe a little sadness. He pushes off from the wall and cups my face in his glowing palms without warning. His mouth is uncomfortably close to mine, and I hold very still. The Sight settles back across me like a heavy backpack on my shoulders.

  A glance down the alley reveals the James Dean wannabe staring off into the distance.

  I sag down into a crouch, holding my head in my hands. The burden is mine. I’ve borne it a long time. I can do it a little longer and save someone else some torment.

  “Thank you,” I say weakly.

  When I look up, Helix is heading off toward the street. I race to catch up with him, anxiety building.

  “Where — where are you going?”

  He grins at me and whistles a little. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle at the unexpected change in his demeanor. He seems lighter than when I first saw him, like some weight has been lifted from him as well.

  “I agree with Caleb. Euphoria does get a bit dull. I think I’ll check things out around here.” He stops me with a gaze. “See how this all plays out.”

  I swallow as dread settles across me, heavier than the Sight.

  “You won’t turn him in?”

  He chuckles. “Oh, no, this is the most entertainment I’ve had in centuries. I want to be front and center when the halfling binds his lady love. Don’t you?”

  His grin is all mischief now, with a healthy dose of madness. I don’t know what to say.

  “I’ll be seeing you soon, Maia.”

  With that he shoots into the air, still in human form. I look around to see if anyone noticed, but the people on the street never flinch.

  Helix is definitely trouble. What have I done?

  Chapter Eleven

  THE PARTY at the student center is about as terrible as I always imagined they’d be. Lots of flashing, seizure-inducing strobes, pounding bass lines, bodies smashed together sweating all over the dance floor. My every muscle is frozen and brittle, ready to shatter at the slightest touch.

  The chaos of the crowd batters against my need for order. I want to line everyone up like chess pieces and make them stand still. Better yet, I want to leave and go back to the peace and quiet of my dorm room. But Genna and Caleb are here … and so is Helix.

  After Helix left the alley, I walked around the neighborhood for an hour trying to figure out what, if anything, I could do to fix the mess I’d made. Then I spotted him coming out of a natural foods store, still barefoot, with a bag on his arm.

  I followed him across the street to the park and sat next to him on a bench. He took in the early evening joggers, the dog walkers and families with strollers, all with a gleam of mischief in his eye.

  “What are you planning?” I asked him.

  He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t respond. After a few minutes, he pulled a piece of fruit from his shopping bag and started eating. I was startled to see it was a pomegranate. He just ripped it in half with his bare hands, scooped out the insides, and tossed them into his mouth. He finished three of them while I looked on in wonder.

  “What is up with the pomegranates?”

  “Angels love pomegranates. They’re simply divine.”

  I shook my head. “Helix, what are you going to do? You don’t even have shoes on.”

  He looked down at his feet and frowned. Then without warning, he stood and left the park. I scrambled after him, following him to a high-end boutique. Watched through the window as he tried on several high-priced outfits picked out by a fawning saleswoman and then walked out of the store without paying. He didn’t seem to have Caleb’s problem with fashion and emerged in slim gray pants, a sweater, and wingtips, all designer, looking like he had stepped straight off a runway.

  He didn’t acknowledge me or answer any of the questions I volleyed at him as I trailed him back to campus and then to this party. I lost him in the mass of bodies and the noise and commotion.

  So now I wander around the edges of the dance floor, searching for him. There are a few tables here and there, but they’re all occupied by increasingly drunk students. I’m not really sure what to do, what can be done against an angel bent on some sort of mischief, but my culpability nags at me, so I force myself to stay. Then I spot Genna across the room, a beam of red light rotating across her face in time with the music. She’s laughing and talking with a guy who is most definitely not Caleb. His back is to me, but his dark hair is curly, his shoulders broad, and I bet icy blue eyes are peering into her right now.

  Helix turns as if he feels me watching. His stare stops me in place for a moment. I wonder what the extent of his powers are and what kind of angel he is. Caleb had mentioned something about guilds. Regardless of his actual job, I know his game. He’s a disruptor. I’ve met plenty like him. Always trying to make good things go bad.

  In the foster homes, the hospital, the group home, in just about every classroom, there’s always one. Someone so resistant to the status quo they just want to tip the cart to watch the wheels spin in the air.

  I push through the crowd and approach the two of them. Genna’s eyes widen in shock when she recognizes me. And is that a trace of guilt? Good. She’s already got the perfect guy who literally climbed out of hell to be with her, and yet she’s here flirting with demon spawn, or angel spawn, or whatever he is.

  Helix moves to her side, placing a hand on her waist, his eyes flashing. Genna says something, but it’s lost to the force of the speakers. I think she’s introducing me to him, but I’m busy trying to win this staring contest he and I have going on. He’s not relenting, but I’m not backing down either. And at
least he blinks.

  “Yeah,” I say to Genna. “We met earlier.”

  I break off eye contact. I could have won, but it’s becoming sort of awkward. “Where’s Caleb, anyway?”

  Genna’s expression tightens. “He went to find drinks.”

  I scan the drinks table, but it’s too crowded to pick him out. “Maybe you should help him.”

  “Yes, Genna, go help him,” Helix says, his voice an octave deeper than normal.

  Genna looks a little ticked, but walks away without another glance. Helix smirks at me.

  “What are you doing?” I seethe and grab his arm to pull him away. He humors me, letting me drag him around, which is even more infuriating.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

  “You’re hitting on Genna. You’re trying to sabotage Caleb.”

  “If his eternal soul mate is so easily swayed away from him, then perhaps he should rethink his strategy.”

  Something about that actually makes sense, but I’m still not having it. “So your motives are strictly altruistic, right?” I shake my head. “You’re not just trying to stir the pot?”

  He scans the room over the top of my head and shrugs. “You cannot imagine how dull Euphoria is. At least here things can be shaken up. If you’d ever been there, you’d understand how refreshing this is. I don’t know why I don’t visit earth more often.”

  “Listen, angel boy, you need to find some other entertainment. Caleb and Genna are off limits.”

  His eyebrows shoot up at my demand. “Oh, really?”

  “Really.” I poke his chest for emphasis and hurt my finger. It’s like he has a layer of granite under his clothes. The look on his face makes me feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. I can’t really back up anything I’m saying, but I can’t let him win either.

  “Please.” I hate asking people for things. I’ve tried to organize my life so I don’t need anyone for anything, and it’s driving me crazy that I want this so badly — for Helix to just let Caleb be.