by Terry Reid
“What?”
“Jesus!” She flinched as Alex appeared beside her. “That sword is moving,” she said, pointing at it.
Alex gazed down at it curiously. “No, it isn’t.”
“It definitely was. I saw it.”
A puzzled look crossed the angel’s perfectly chiselled features. “Which one was doing it?”
“The one at the front.”
“Gabriel’s…” Alex said, reaching in and lifting the linen-bound blade. Pulling it out into the light of the hall, he unravelled it, revealing a brown scabbard and a beautifully detailed white and black hilt and cross guard. Stepping back, he pulled the gleaming silver blade free and held it up to the light for a better look. He turned it in his hand, looking up and down its length, for something that Hayley just couldn’t see. Despite lack of use and age the sword still shone with the same brilliance it had the day it was forged. After a minute Alex sheathed it and shrugged. “It’s not doing it anymore and I’m not getting anything off it.”
“I’m telling you, it moved!”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, I do. I just can’t find anything wrong with it.” He examined the milk and dark hilt of the blade between his fingers once more.
“But why would it move like that? It’s really creepy. Have you ever seen one of those swords do that before?” Hayley asked, nervously.
He shook his head as he gazed down at the ancient weapon. “Not personally. But I know others who have.”
Hayley felt a knot form in her stomach. “And?” she asked, fearing his answer.
Alex hesitated a moment. When he finally met her gaze it was dark, concern etched in his features. Despite looking like he was in his mid-twenties with his modern haircut; his long fringe swept to one side with spikes at the back: his expression revealed a harder, wiser, and warier edge, one that was only gained through age and experience. It was his brilliant blue eyes that showed it the most. “If I’m separated from my blade, it starts trembling like the way you described. It’s drawn to me like you are; it’s like an extension of my arm.”
“But Gabriel is dead…” Hayley said, panic creeping into her voice, “why would it start doing that?”
Alex shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?!”
“I don’t know, Hayley, ok?” He glanced down suspiciously at the blade in his hand. “It shouldn’t be doing that, not when its owner is gone.”
“Could Gabriel have come back somehow?”
Alex looked at her again, shaking his head once more. “No, it isn’t possible. It’s never been done. These blades are forged from metal that can kill anything, whether it is a creature of energy or physical form. Or both.”
“Yeah, but it depends where they stab you, right? You said so yourself after Juliette stabbed you in the stomach with Jacob’s.”
Alex felt a twitch run from the small of his back through to his belly button at the memory. He’d been extremely lucky Jacob’s vampire fiancé hadn’t known where the killing blows on an angel were. If it had been a few inches higher through his heart it would have destroyed him: body and soul in its entirety and he would never have come back. The blow had still hurt like hell and Alex had been forced to revert completely to his energy form. He’d taken the opportunity to sneak up on Jacob, his fallen brother, and deliver him a death blow instead. That memory pained him even more. His mind turned to his other brother, Gabriel. Alex had been forced to destroy him because he was hell bent on killing Hayley, as well as Alex himself. Alex had distracted Gabriel while Hayley plunged her guardian’s blade through the fallen angel’s back.
Pushing the memories to the back of his mind he said, “I know, but Gabriel and Jacob are dead. I stabbed Jacob through the neck and through his brain. You got Gabriel in the heart. There is no way either of them are coming back.”
“Are you absolutely sure about that?”
He glanced back at Gabriel’s blade, clutched tightly between his fingers, then looked at Hayley. “I’m positive,” he lied.
Chapter Three
It was another end to another school day and pupils were spilling out of the high school in an exodus away from learning. Sixteen year old John Hughes was among the vast droves that departed the school, laughing and joking with his friends as they headed home. John topped almost six foot these days, having hit a growth spurt three months earlier. He was a ranging, watery blue eyed youth with a pasty complexion and mousy brown hair and a big smile. Unlike other boys his age though, John was psychic. But it was a secret he had long ago learnt to keep to himself.
After a few minutes John departed his band of boisterous boys and headed for home. His path led him through a council estate and then off into a park on the outer edge of Springburn. The frosty flat playing fields soon gave way to a small stretch of woodland where the route narrowed to nothing more than a dirty thoroughfare among the trees. It was the quickest way home but John seldom came this way because it was usually muddy. However, the cold temperature had frozen the earth underfoot solid, allowing the teenager to use it without fear of getting his school clothes dirty. He walked with his headphones in, casting the occasional glance back as he went; a wary habit he had picked up following a number of strange and frightening experiences he had lived through two years earlier. For a long time after John never went anywhere alone. But like most things, time had eroded his anxiety and a kind, war-free Western world had lulled him into a false sense of security.
Frowning at the song that came on, John dug into his pocket for the MP3 player and started flicking through his tunes, letting his feet lead the way home. But they stopped. John found himself feeling a strong sense of foreboding. Turning off his music, he looked and listened, not knowing where the strange sensation had come from. All around him the woods lay still and quiet, the diamond-crusted branches reaching up toward the sky as they always did, like bony, twisted, frozen fingers. He glanced back up the path but saw no-one.
The straight path allowed him to see back the way he had travelled clearly for a good distance and the other direction just as well. He kept looking. Something had set him off and he was determined to find out what. Cold fingers closed around his foot. John jumped back, screaming, eyes wide with terror. Crawling toward him up the banking through the thick, frozen brush was a corpse. John retreated as it reached for his foot again. But once the youth had made it back several paces he realised it was not trying to get him - it was stuck. A dead woman, her eyes like stone and her skin as white as ice was clawing feebly at the path. She gurgled with each reach as her one remaining arm came back empty handed from every attempt she desperately made to pull herself free. John bolted, deciding he had seen enough - fearing what would happen if he stayed. His heart raced with terror, and so did he.
******
Hayley jumped as a series of heavy bangs rattled the front door. “Who the hell is that?” she cursed, getting off the couch, angry that someone felt the need to try and knock her door down with their fists.
“It’s John.” said Alex, puzzled. The angel had the gift of far sight but he could not read why the teenager was so frantic. Getting up, he followed Hayley to the door. His wings disappeared behind him in a ripple of air, lest a neighbour saw them.
“Thank God!” John gasped breathlessly, barging in as soon as Hayley opened the portal.
He looked pale and terrified. “What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked. The youth was trembling and his hair was soaked with sweat.
“I’m sorry...” he panted, shaking his head, at a loss of where to begin. “But I just saw something on the way home from school...something grabbed my foot, it looked like a corpse.”
“Oh my God! Are you ok?” Hayley said, putting a hand on his arm to calm him.
“Yeah, I think so,” he gasped, wiping the sweat from his brow with a coat sleeve.
Hayley saw Alex looking at the teen intensely. She knew right away he was reading his thoughts. “Alex?”
John stared at him incredulously. “It didn’t seem like one to me! It grabbed my foot!”
Alex shook his head. “No, it was only a ghost. Although, it seems like there was a burst of psychic energy, that’s why you must have thought it was real.”
John blinked and shook his head, confused. “But, it was real. It must have been!”
Alex shrugged, unsympathetic. “Trust me, it wasn’t. People sometimes die under horrible circumstances and it’s so traumatic that they leave an emotional imprint in the world and it manifests itself to telepaths like you.”
“Thanks, that makes me feel so much better,” John said bitterly.
“I’ve seen far scarier things in my life, what you saw wasn’t anything...”
“Wait...” Hayley cut him off, “are you saying there’s a body out there?”
Alex shook his head. “I don’t know, I couldn’t see from what I got off him,” he said. “But what John saw was definitely a ghost.”
“I’ve walked along that path for years and I’ve never seen anything like that before,” John said to the angel.
“Er…boys? Excuse me? But I don’t know where you’re talking about.”
Remembering that Hayley had not been part of the mental exchange, John said, “Sorry, it’s just a path I take home from school.”
Hayley blinked at him, none the wiser. “I’ve never been to your school, John, so I still don’t have any idea where you’re talking about.”
It was Alex who answered. “Springburn playing fields, it’s down that way,” he said, pointing toward the living room. Looking to John, he said, “There probably is a body down there somewhere. But it wouldn’t explain why you’ve never seen that ghost before if it has been there for years.”
Hayley folded her arms. “Don’t you think it’s a bit weird that this happened today?”
John looked at her worriedly. “Why? What’s happened?”
“Gabriel’s old sword was moving in the cupboard.”
John squinted at her. “What?”
“Well, vibrating, it was kind of rattling across the floorboards.”
The teenager’s brow furrowed and he turned to question the angel. “Has that ever happened before?”
“No.”
His grim expression set alarm bells off in the teenager. “It’s starting again isn’t it? Someone’s trying to kill us, aren’t they?” John said with his heart in his mouth.
“What? No!” Alex exclaimed. “What is it with you two today? Just because a sword moved and you saw a ghost does not mean someone is coming to kill you. How did you get to such a conclusion based on that?”
John huffed and folded his arms. “Well it’s not like you’ve said anything to put us at ease!”
Alex’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand why you expect me to do so?”
“Well you’re an angel, right? I thought you’d have some answers. That’s why I ran straight here!”
Alex was about to say something when Hayley stepped between them. “Enough,” she said scowling. Turning away, she stormed off shaking her head. “Honestly, you two are...” she screamed when she entered the living room.
Alex materialised in front of her, while John ran to the door to see what had happened. The teenager shied away when he saw the winged man in the corner of the room turn to face them.
Hayley grabbed one of the swords that had been left propped against the wall from earlier. She ripped it free from the scabbard, allowing the leather hide to drop to the floor as she raised the blade. “Don’t!” Alex shouted, holding out an arm to her. “It’s ok, I know him...”
The tall man with blond hair and grey eyes smiled in amusement.
Hayley glared at him like a cornered animal, clutching the sword hilt with trembling hands. “And who the hell is he exactly?” she demanded.
Alex turned to her, eyeing the blade warily. “This is Christopher. He’s my brother.”
Hayley refused to lower the weapon, clutching it so tight that her knuckles turned white. “How many brothers do you have? The last two were arseholes.” She nodded toward the stranger who stood grinning in the corner of her flat. “How do we know this one’s not the same?”
Christopher answered. “I am not like my older brothers, I have not fallen,” he said, his voice smooth as silk.
“Sorry if I don’t believe you,” she spat, her voice dripping with cynicism.
“Hayley!” Alex shouted, his patience wearing thin. “Please...” he said, lowering his voice and shaking his head. “If you trust no one else here, trust me.”
Hayley stared at him for a long moment, and then reluctantly, she lowered the sword.
“Do angels not know how to knock or something?” John asked.
Alex rolled his eyes.
Chapter Four
“Father was not kidding was he? You do keep some strange company, brother,” said Christopher. His gaze shifted to Hayley, who regarded him with caution. “And you must be the famous Hayley Foster.” He looked her up and down but not directly at her, as if seeing something that no-one else could. His grin widened. “Yes, definitely. You have Alexander’s soul burning inside you.”
“That’s great.” Hayley said, uninterested. “What do you want?”
“Hayley!” Alex spat, in outrage.
Christopher’s smile vanished, his expression growing sombre. His ivory wings fell flat against his back. With exception of his short, dusty blond hair and higher cheek bones, he was the spitting image of Alex. He looked to his brother questionably. “Is she always like this?”
Alex shook his head. “No, it’s just been a very long day and we’re all just a bit jumpy, that’s all.”
“Oh,” he said, surprised. “I’m sorry if I frightened you,” he said softly to Hayley.
Hayley found her guardian looking at her expectantly. “It’s ok...sorry about the whole sword thing.” The corner of Alex’s mouth curled into a smile and she knew she was forgiven.
Alex approached his brother and the two angels embraced. “It’s good to see you again.”
“It’s been too long, brother.” Christopher agreed with a nod as they parted. “Father told me that your soul had been reincarnated and that you had become a guardian in turn. I feared to intrude on your duties. Then I heard you two lived together so I thought you would not mind me visiting.”
Alex smiled. “Of course not, you’re welcome anytime.” He assumed, looking to Hayley for confirmation. It was her flat after all. She nodded, despite still looking like she was in a huff with her arms folded.
But a smile from Alex seemed to melt her and Hayley found it impossible to stay mad. “You both talk like you’ve not seen each other in years. How long has it been?”
“Forty two years,” said Alex.
John stifled a snigger. Everyone looked at him.
“What’s so funny?” Alex asked. “You don’t believe me?”
“Oh come on...”
Hayley was embarrassed by the teenager’s naivety, considering he had lived with her and the angel for a brief period two years before.
John saw the smile on her face and it riled him. “What?” He spat defensively. “I don’t know how old he is! Sometimes he talks about things that happened millions of years ago and I think he’s just making it up for a laugh!”
“Aye, but you’ve heard him talk enough to know that he isn’t as young as he looks, haven’t you?”
John scoffed. “Alright then, how old are you then?”
Alex smirked deviously. “Hayley is the only one that needs to know.”
“Oh come on! That’s not fair, you all know but me!”
“Well she has part of my soul so she deserves to know how old that piece of her is,” the angel said with a smile, pressing his head against the top of Hayley’s.
John felt his cheeks go hot. He hated being the only one not to know. Out of impulsive anger, he directed
his mind at the guardian in an attempt to snatch the answer from his thoughts with his telepathy, but he came up against a brick wall around Alex’s mind.
“Don’t even try it,” Alex warned, all humour leaving him in an instant. He did not take mental intrusions kindly.
“What?” Hayley asked but she quickly realised by the sheepish look on John’s face what he had done. “What the hell? What’s wrong with you?!”
Shaking his head, the teenager skulked away, leaving the room.
Christopher burst out laughing. “Your friends are great!”
Hayley gave him a funny look.
She found herself alone in the kitchen making tea and coffee a few minutes later.
“Well?” Alex asked, leaning against the door with his arms folded.
“What?” she asked, throwing him a questioning look as she took a packet of cookies out of the cupboard.
Alex shrugged and smiled. “I don’t have to read your mind to know that something is up. I’ve already told you, Christopher is perfectly safe.”
Hayley leant her back and hands against the counter as she waited for the kettle to boil. “No, it isn’t that,” she said, lowering her voice, afraid that she would be heard.
Alex raised an eyebrow.
“He’s nice but he just seems...I don’t know, a bit weird.” She threw up a hand. “I’m sorry, I know that sounds rude.”
Alex smiled warmly, the way he always did when she said something he found amusing. It made her feel at ease. “He’s not spent a lot of time around people and he’s spent even less time talking to them,” he said as he crossed to her.
