by Ireland Gill
“Good. I just wanted to be sure,” he said before snuggling his nose into the crook of my neck to go to sleep.
I lay there, eyes wide open, my heart pumping its guilt through my veins. What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to tell him about the enemy invading my dreams? And worse, how was I supposed to explain to him my reasoning for keeping all of it from him? He would say there was no excuse, that no matter how awful the threats were from Alysto, I should have told him a long time ago.
But if Hayden decided to Fade, it would make him vulnerable to even more danger. Alysto would be sure to end him, just as he'd threatened. I was in a deep, deep pile of lies and deceit due to the Keeper of the Wicked, and I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and make it all go away, to make all of the bad things disappear.
“Hayden?” I whispered. As usual, I needed a distraction from my current train of thought.
“Yeah?” his voice sounded tired.
“Do you ever dream?”
“Every night,” he answered without hesitation.
“What about?”
He took in a long deep breath, exhaling with an embarrassed laugh. “You. I'm always protecting you from something,” he admitted. I felt him shrug. “But it's not always bad.”
“What's not always bad?”
“The thing from which I'm protecting you.”
I thought for a moment. It didn't seem to make sense. I turned in the bed to face him. “So, if it's not always bad, then how come you keep protecting me from it?”
There was an instant, soundless moment created between the end of one song and the beginning of another. Hayden lifted his fingers to my hair, lacing them through the pieces. I waited patiently for his answer.
“Because whatever it is that wants you,” he said softly, “is trying to take you from me.” He paused before continuing with a confident grin, and closed his eyes, sighing out, “but I always win. Always.”
15
The Truth About Shakespeare
A long morning of saves had worn me out, as usual, so I'd taken a much needed nap that continued well into the evening. I was sleeping soundly when I awoke to my angel's whispers.
“Evika,” he said softly as he crouched next to the bed, “I know you're tired, but I didn't want you to miss something.”
I rubbed my eyes. “Are you okay? What time is it?”
“I'm fine. It's about time for sunset,” he answered, then extended his hand to me. “Will you come with me?”
I looked him over as I sat up. He seemed calm and collected. I was sure there wasn't anything wrong then. “Where are we going, Angel-man?” I asked tiredly.
He smiled solemnly, taking my hand. “Up,” was all he said.
I grinned, and my excitement grew. I knew what “up” meant. It was something I'd only experienced once before with him, the day I saw the world from his eyes, an angel's eye-view.
I slid into my combat boots since they were easy to get on and off with the zipper on the side, and I tossed my dragon hoodie over my head.
Hayden placed my hand in his and led me down the stairs, out to the back porch. And just as I remembered, his magnificent, black wings spread on either side of him. It was just as amazing the second time. There was no question as to what I had to do. I walked up to him, placing my feet on top of his and embraced his body, laying my head against his chest. I felt his arms wrap around me, and I'd only taken one breath before we shot up into the sky.
This time, I kept my eyes open, and watched the landscape and the house get smaller. The yellow highlights from the sun were turning orange as the ball of fire was about to set. The roofs of the houses and the tops of the trees turned into mere shapes, blobs of color like a Monet, as we got higher and higher. I turned my head and saw the glistening tips of the waves, reflecting the broken up rays of the sun. A certain peace was blanketed over the world during this time of day; something that would always be.
It seemed as though we had to fly higher this time to reach a cloud. Hayden perched us on top of one a lot higher than I'd remembered from our last visit to the sky. He immediately sat down and placed me on his lap, locking his arms around me to keep me safe.
I looked down at his embrace and smiled. “So, what's the occasion?” I asked.
He kept his gaze on the horizon and grinned. “Last time, the sun was rising. I figured I'd show you the beauty of the sun setting this time.” He paused for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. “And I wanted to tell you about someone.”
“Someone you guarded?” I asked.
“No, but I knew him very well. He is one of the most notorious writers of all time.”
“Well, that could be a lot of people. Who was it?”
“Shakespeare.”
I sucked air. “You knew William Shakespeare?”
“I did.” Hayden nodded. “Did you know he was a Taurus, like you?”
“Actually,” I stated, “I did know that.”
Hayden chuckled.
“He was married to what's-her-name.” I thought for a moment. “Don't tell me. It's on the tip of my tongue.” Hayden smirked, but kept quiet. “Her name is really familiar because there is an actress that has the same name.” I turned away and focused on the earth below. “Ugh, I know this. My favorite teacher taught us all about the Elizabethan times,” I said as I tapped my chin. “I even did a report on Shakespeare for Literature.” Then it came to me. “Anne Hathaway!” I shouted with glee.
I could feel Hayden vibrating with laughter and looked over at him. “I knew you'd get it.” His eyes lit up as he smiled. “Do you remember any of it, the report? Wasn't that the report where you compared his relationship with Anne to his writing?” he inquired.
I nodded. “Yeah, I pulled a lot of info about how they only got married because she was three months pregnant. It was supposedly a shot-gun wedding, but my paper was to argue that he was truly in love with her. He was about eight or nine years younger than her. He was only eighteen when they got married. People also claimed that Shakespeare never really loved her because he only left her his second-best bed in his will, but I dug up a lot of information that suggested that the second-best bed was their marital bed, and the best bed in the house was left for guests. It was the normal bequest for those times, I guess.” I looked at Hayden for approval. I'd wondered if I was on the right track.
Hayden nodded, smiling proudly. “Go on,” he assured me. “What else do you remember?”
“Well,” I continued, “I remember there were two Globe Theatres built to perform all of his plays. They called the ceiling of the stages 'The Heavens.' Another fun fact was Shakespeare actually created over thirty words that ended up in the Oxford English Dictionary, like 'bedazzle,' 'leapfrog,'.....” I paused for a moment to laugh, “and even the word 'puke.'”
He rolled his eyes, lovingly. “Okay good, but what can you tell me about him and Anne?” Hayden raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to continue.
I looked at him curiously, wondering why he didn't just tell me himself. I humored him. “Anne and he had three children. There was the daughter she was pregnant with when they got married, then only a couple of years later, Anne gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl.” I thought of the tragedy that I read about the twins. “The little boy was only eleven when he died, but Shakespeare kept up with his writing. It didn't stop him from continuing his work. He wrote and performed some of his plays in London, but would always come home to Stratford for a period of time every year to be with Anne. Even after he retired, he left London and permanently stayed in Stratford, where Anne wanted to live. Really though, there weren't many more facts about him outside of the rumors and allegations about his life because there was this period of time that were like the dark years for him, a length of time that no one can recall to this day. I think they were called the Lost Years?”
Hayden laughed. “You know, you really do remember a lot for having read all that so long ago.”
“But, am I right?”
I asked eagerly. “Was all that stuff true about him and Anne?”
The angel bobbed his head in assurance. “The fact that you argued that they were truly in love puts you completely on the right track,” he praised, looking at me admiringly. “I was really proud of you when you wrote that paper, you know?”
I giggled. “You were?”
He looked at me solemnly. “Yes, I was.”
We were silent for a moment, watching the setting sun. I'd wondered what that whole trip to the clouds meant, why we were up there and why he had mentioned Shakespeare. “So, why are we talking about Shakespeare, anyway? What is this all about?” I asked seriously, still staring out at the orange horizon as I leaned into my angel.
“Because there is one huge secret that I know about him that you'll never find in any history book,” he answered.
I turned in his lap and looked at him inquisitively, wondering if Shakespeare had some second life that no one knew about. There really wasn't much that historians could tell you about him that was plausible. I gave Hayden an incredulous look. “Exactly how well did you know him?”
He grinned at my question. “Evika,” he said, “Shakespeare was once a Guardian, too. He fell in love with Anne and chose to Fade for her.”
“What?” I was shocked. Oh, no. We are talking about Fading. I stared at him blankly for, what seemed like, forever. “Shakespeare was an angel?” The expression of disbelief didn't leave my face, I was sure of it.
Hayden nodded.
“But, how...” I paused, recalling the things I'd rambled off about my report, and then it hit me. “The Lost Years,” I muttered. “That was the past that no one could explain about him. Not because of the bad documentation of records, but because he had no past.” Saying it aloud sounded so insane, but it made total sense. I looked at Hayden for approval again. He smiled genuinely.
“He was Anne's father's Guardian, and after Richard passed away in September of 1581, William took a trial.” I watched Hayden stare off into the endless sky, to recall the story. “He spent a few months watching Anne from afar, but he knew.” He smiled and turned to me. “He knew Anne was the one he wanted, and he Faded for her.”I stared at my angel in awe as he continued. “That was when all of his earliest sonnets were written. Most everything he wrote had Elizabethan pronunciation, but sometimes he'd steer away from the norm and historians would argue that Shakespeare was the wrong man to have ascribed certain writings.” He held a cocky grin. “But I know the truth.” He winked, then looked down at our hands, lacing his fingers through mine. “Do you want to hear one?”
God, did I ever. I nodded. “Of course, I do,” I couldn't stop staring at him.
He smirked. I could tell he was enjoying my awestruck silence and lack of words. He must have been proud. He cleared his throat, looking back at the sunset once again.
“But were it to my fancy given, to rate her charms, I'd call them heaven; For though a mortal made of clay, angels must love Anne Hathaway; She hath a way so to control, to rapture the imprisoned soul, and sweetest heaven on earth display, that to be heaven Anne hath a way; She hath a way, Anne Hathaway, - to be heaven's self Anne hath a way.” Hayden recited it flawlessly, as if he'd written it himself.
I watched his lips curve into a smile and I mimicked them with my own. “I've never heard that one before,” I whispered, still staring into those pools of green. “It's beautiful.”
“One of my favorites,” he said.
“One thing I'm curious about though,” I said.
“What's that?”
“How is Shakespeare a Taurus if he was never really, you know, born? I mean, how does that work? You just pick a birthday or something?”
Hayden chuckled. “His creation day was April twenty-third. He even had baptism papers made out to document the event.” I looked at him incredulously, and he caught my expression. “We have lots of tricks up our sleeves.” He shrugged.
“So I see. I didn't know you celebrated birthdays, er, creation days.” I paused for a moment. “Actually, I never even really thought about that at all. When is yours?”
“Soon,” was all he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “Hayden,” I said in a scolding tone.
He cleared his throat and muttered in a hardly-audible voice. “It's sort of in three days.”
“What?” My brow furrowed, and my lips pursed as I tried to calculate the day. “August sixteenth. Great. Thanks for the warning, Hayden.”
“Well,” he said, “last year was sort of inappropriate to mention it. There was a lot going on during that time since you were in your coma.”
“Hmm. Yeah, and telling me three days before is so much better,” I said sardonically. I thought about the zodiac sign at which the current date would put us and I giggled at the thought.
“What's so funny?” he asked.
“That makes you a Leo. It all makes so much sense now,” I said.
“How is that?”
“Because you certainly hold true to your sign,” I answered. “You're confident and vain, love being the hit at a party, you have an ego that demands praise and adoration.” I laughed. “But you're also loyal, generous and very social. Born to be a leader, and quite the charmer.”
“Hmm.” Hayden smirked. “I guess that is me to a 'T'.”
“Oh,” I burst out laughing when I thought of another thing that his sign meant, “and your Chinese sign is the monkey.”
“Nice.” He rolled his eyes and laughed. “I'd rather just be the lion.”
“Hey, no worries. Other than the bull, I'm a snake. I'm known as self-indulgent, greedy and, oh yeah, stubborn.” I nudged him.
“But, if I'm not mistaken, you're also known to be loving, reliable, and warm-hearted, and really creative in all aspects of the arts,” he added.
I smiled. “Thanks for pointing out the positive, but that doesn't get you off the hook for omitting your creation date. I'm whipping up something special for dinner this weekend, just the two of us. And, if I start now, I can plan something huge for your half-birthday in six months to make up for all of this.”
He laughed heartily, shaking his head. “What am I gonna do with you?”
I shrugged sheepishly. I watched the glint in his eye that shone the last light of the sun before it set completely beyond the horizon, and then it was only moonlight that glazed the world, the clouds, only us. I watched the angel adore the scenery silently. It was as though he was making a conscious effort to commit it to memory in a certain way.
“Do you come up here a lot?” I broke his trance. “Without me, I mean.”
He turned to meet my gaze and smiled genuinely. “I used to.” Then he looked back to the horizon, still holding that smile while he gave a thoughtful squeeze to my hands. “But I don't need to anymore.”
My body froze when he said those words. I sat there, contemplating what he meant. I was hopeful that he meant he didn't need to enjoy perching on clouds alone, without me, since I'd always liked to go with him. But in my heart, I already knew; he felt he didn't need to come up here anymore...at all. That was what his face told me; he was at peace with a decision.
“Hayden,” I said his name softly, almost hoping he wouldn't hear me ask. “Why are we really up here talking about Shakespeare?” I sort of gulped after I asked, not sure that I was ready to to get my answer.
He took a deep breath, looking away just briefly. But I found the object at which he gazed; it was our hands, still laced together. He didn't answer me right away. Did I ask the wrong question? What was he really thinking? My heart raced, and my mind started to panic with questions until his eyes met mine once again, his handsome face breaking into a proud smile.
“Because I never fully understood why he did what he did for her....until you existed.”
He slowly leaned into me. His hand laced through my hair, and I closed my eyes as I felt the warmth of those perfect lips press to mine. Floods of euphoric energy surged through my entire body from head to toe. I was in t
hat state of being again, the place I never wanted to be out of. Every kiss from him was meaningful. He took his time before claiming his lips back once again, the moment I finally realized I was leaning back, his strong arm cradling my upper body. I sat up and leaned against his chest, listening to his breathing and watching the still of the world below.
Contentment. Hopefulness. Absolute nirvana. I felt all of those things and so much more just being in his arms. It was home. It was bliss. It was real.
And I was scared to death.
16
Angels Don’t Bleed
I'd been a little on edge after the next morning's save. It was a castor from the North, and the woman had died in a drowning. I'd always feared that kind of death the most, and without Hayden there to calm me, I would have lost my mind. After the save, I had to get my mind off of things and assured Hayden it was okay for him to leave the house for a while. I made Luka take him out so I could get preparations ready for the dinner I promised to make us to celebrate Hayden's creation day. Of course, Hayden wouldn't go any further than down the street, so they each took a turn on the motorcycle doing wheelies, which, I'm sure, the neighbors loved.
Since I promised a nice home-made attempt at dinner, I decided to surprise Hayden with one of the things Joel always made me for my birthdays in the past. He made the best chicken stir fry I'd ever had in my life, and if I could have duplicated it at least half as good, I'd have been proud.
I started slicing the chicken into chunks when I felt a pair of fingers lightly touch my shoulders. At that moment, I didn't think. I only reacted. Things happened so quickly. I simultaneously jumped and screamed, clutching the butcher knife and whipping it around with me as I spun around carelessly, scared out my wits. My hand, my eyes and my mind were all running at different speeds, and it was obvious that my hand reacted the fastest. I met his emerald eyes, only inches from mine, and wanted to stop the action of my body, but it wouldn't listen in that split second of time. The knife sliced across his shoulder, breaking open the material of his black shirt as it cut into his skin.
