by T. R. Hamby
“Let’s leave it there. I’ll be in contact with you.”
“Joy,” Barry muttered under his breath, and Nora elbowed him.
She left, and everyone looked at each other.
Nora heaved a sigh. It seemed that nothing they did to assuage Hudson’s suspicions was working--was in fact making things worse. She had a feeling that, despite the obvious unlikeliness that the family had anything to do with Samuel Gene’s murder, Hudson wouldn’t let them go.
“We need a plan,” Michael finally said.
“There is no plan,” Barry said quietly.
Nora noticed an almost pained look on his face. “No matter how suspicious we look, the police can’t pin it on us, not when there are other victims. The Demons could be anywhere. And Them hasn’t said anything about the bloke who’s supposed to help us. All we can do is train.”
Everyone was quiet. Gabriel was studying Barry worriedly, while Barry looked down at the floor darkly.
Michael couldn’t seem to help but ask, “You all right?”
Barry looked at him and shrugged, a dark look still on his face. “Just….could’ve been me.”
There was another silence, as the rest of them looked at each other, disturbed. Nora felt an ache, and squeezed Barry’s arm. He looked appreciative, managing a slight smile.
“You’re right,” Mel said with a sigh. “All we can do is train….”
“You’ll have to train the most,” Gilla said. “If we’re right that only fire can kill them.”
“We at least match them,” Michael said. “Six to six.”
“Seven, if this help ever shows up,” Barry added, though he didn’t sound hopeful.
“Why is she being so secretive?” Mel demanded quietly. “And why are you helping her? You both know the stakes.”
Barry was patient. “She told me some things….basically that it’ll be painful for us once we meet him. It’s better not to discuss it until we know for sure he’s coming. No point adding more sorrow, you know?”
And he glanced at Nora.
She felt herself flush, and she bristled. “I’ve been telling all of you not to tiptoe around me. And besides, I’m feeling better.”
“Can’t help but worry,” Barry replied gently. “All this shit going on….we’re all down.”
Nora sighed. He was right. He was just trying to protect her. And, as much as she hated to admit it, she had needed a lot of protection lately.
But she shook herself. She was better now, and what would help them all was taking some action.
“Right,” she said firmly, “so we start training. Strengthen our Talents, strengthen our fighting. Come up with an escape plan if they find us.”
“It might be better to just kill them if they find us again,” Michael said.
“Okay, that too.”
“This is a good place to have a war,” Mel said, almost to himself, “in a secluded area. No other humans, no other buildings.”
Nora felt her insides go cold. A war. What an appropriate word.
There was one thing that bothered her--a nagging thought in the back of her mind.
Roone.
Everyone dispersed, and Mel went to her, slipping his arms around her waist.
He kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you’re bossing us around again, diletta.”
“Well, prepare for more bossing,” she replied seriously, and he looked wary. “Just think about it….Roone has--”
“Nora--”
“--let me finish,” she whispered firmly. “Roone has a very powerful Talent. He told me he can direct his power on multiple people. If we can get him on our side--”
“He can’t be near you, Nora. He’ll get sick again.”
“We don’t know that for sure. We have to take the chance….unless he chooses to leave. Which I doubt he will.”
Mel sighed, looked away. Nora saw his eyes trail over to Roone’s bedroom door, and his expression darkened.
“He might want to try to redeem himself,” she said quietly. “Imagine all the guilt he has. He can channel that into his training.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “You know he will never have redemption in my eyes. After what he did to you.”
“I know, love. But we don’t have much choice. We can’t take any chances.”
He finally looked at her, and his head twitched. “Ask Michael first.”
“Mel….”
“I’m serious, Nora. I’m not making a decision without him.”
Nora felt her lips twitch. “A year ago you wouldn’t have said that. Not out loud, anyway.”
Mel smiled. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not, doofus. It makes me happy.”
“You make me happy.”
“You’re full of it.”
“Go ask Michael.”
So she went to the kitchen, where he was helping Gilla make some lunch. They were exchanging their own flirtatious remarks, which Nora was happy to see. At least, as cheesy as it was, there was plenty of love going around.
Except for Roone, and her heart ached at the thought.
For three days he had been happy, having her close by--talking to her, holding her. Now he didn’t even have his delusions to comfort him. He was alone.
“Can I talk to you?” she asked, taking Michael aside.
He looked confused, but nodded, following her to the study.
Nora closed the door and turned to him.
He was already glowering. “This is about Roone, isn’t it?”
“Michael--”
“Nora, I don’t have to remind you what he’s done to you.”
“I know you don’t,” she shot back, bristling slightly. “Trust me on that. But we need him.”
“We have more than enough people--”
“No, we don’t. We don't know what God’s going to do; we don’t know that it’s just the six of them, and even if it is, we can’t take any chances. The more people we have, the better, especially when they have a Talent like Roone’s.”
He looked stumped, and frowned at the floor, leaning against the edge of the desk.
He swore under his breath and sighed. “What does Mel say.”
“He told me to ask you.”
Michael rolled his eyes.
Nora sighed. “I know what he’s done, Michael. I’m not excusing it; you know that. But there’s good in him. He was sick, and he might be getting better now.”
“He might get sick again,” he replied firmly. “This isn’t something that just goes away, Nora.”
“I know,” she said firmly. “But we need him.”
Michael thought for a long moment. Then he sighed again. “I’m doing this against my better judgment.”
Nora felt a wave of relief crash over her. “Okay.”
“But he’s still not to go near you.”
“We’ll all have to train together.”
“Well--he--he can’t interact with you--I’ll talk to him,” he finally growled, getting up from the desk.
He ran his hands through his hair. “Christ, Nora. I’ll never forgive myself if--”
“I know, Michael. You have to trust me.”
He didn’t look convinced. He studied her, and Nora felt a pang, seeing the love and worry in his eyes.
She took his hand and squeezed. She couldn’t lie and say it would be okay. But they needed to do something with Roone, and--if he agreed--he would be a powerful asset.
But she couldn’t interact with him--like Michael had said. No. The very thought made her shiver. They would have to stay away from each other. She knew she could do it, but could Roone?
The rest of the day was uneventful. Gabriel and Barry walked around the estate, found a decently-sized clearing, and made an army of snowmen. Michael and Mel talked, and Nora and Gilla did some chores, talking quietly.
When Nora told Gilla about Roone, she bit her lip, looking troubled.
“I know it’s not the best situation,” Nora said quickly.
“No, it’s not,” she replied with a sigh, studying the towel she was folding.
She looked at her. “I’m just worried about you, Nora. We all are.”
Nora flushed. She wished no one would worry. There was so much to worry about already.
“I’m getting better,” she said, tossing a folded blouse onto the bed.
“I know. But what if Roone….makes things worse?” Gilla asked gently.
Nora sighed. “I guess we’ll find out.”
She glanced out the window, where the stables were visible.
Then she looked again. There was someone standing out there, looking right at her.
She grabbed Gilla’s arm, and Gilla looked too. They rushed to the window, forgetting the laundry, and stared.
Nora couldn’t believe it. How was it possible?
The tall, sandy blonde-haired man looked up at them, a sort of frown on his face. He stood very still, and Nora wondered why, for it looked as if he knew who was inside the house.
She bolted for the stairs, ran down them two steps at a time, Gilla right behind her.
They ran to the kitchen, headed for the back door. Michael and Mel looked at them, bewildered.
“Come outside!” Nora cried, wrenching the door open. “It’s Andreas!”
Andreas
It had worked. Christ. It had really worked.
Andreas looked down at himself. He had been staring at the house, looking right into the eyes of Nora Rossi, as she gazed out the second floor window at him. But now he checked himself over, as if the journey he had made had injured him somewhere.
But he was fine. He wore his usual long-sleeved shirt and jeans--the outfit he had worn so often on Earth, when he hadn’t been working. His shoes were wet; they weren’t made for the snow.
Just then the back door burst open, and out dashed Nora. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck, making him stumble. He held her, surprised at her affection, and watched as three others approached--Mel King, his brother Michael, and Gilla, Andreas’ old school friend.
“What are you doing here?” Mel breathed, clearly bewildered. “How did you find us?”
“You must be freezing,” Nora said, pulling away and grasping his arm. “Come inside; we have a fire going.”
They trekked inside, Nora’s hand in his. Andreas was reminded of the last time they had gripped hands, when he had been following her up the stairs in their house in Knightsbridge. He had been very calm then, despite the incredible story he had just been told. The calm hadn’t stopped him from having a full-fledged panic attack upon arriving home, though.
He took his shoes off, and they sat him down in the living area. He was surprised to see the vintage decor, and surmised that the house was older.
“I’ll make some tea,” Gilla said, looking mystified.
The remaining three sat down, staring at him as if he was a strange creature.
It was Mel, pale and grave, who figured it out first. “Them sent you.”
Andreas looked at him and nodded. “Yes.”
“But--she did? From London?” Nora asked, and he felt a hint of pity for her.
Mel looked at her, and shook his head gently. “No, love. From her Realm. He’s dead.”
Andreas watched as the color drained from her face. She held a hand to her mouth, and tears filled her eyes.
“But--oh, Andreas--you can’t be dead,” she moaned.
Andreas’ heart ached. Her tears were almost enough to soothe the anger that raged inside him.
“Technically I’m not,” he replied quietly. “I am dead here….but I Ascended to a new life. Them chose me to live in her Place.”
Gilla returned then, bearing a tray, and handed out cups of tea.
Andreas accepted his cup and looked into it. There was no shortage of tea in the Realm. It was very much like Earth--a little less troublesome, though. But it didn’t keep Andreas from his troubles.
They allowed him to sip his tea, before Mel asked, “How did it happen?”
Anger surged within him, and Andreas looked at him darkly. “Your friend killed me. Tortured me first, actually. Ceres.”
Nora held her head in her hands. Gilla looked horrified, and Mel and Michael looked pained.
Andreas was frustrated; he had thought their guilt would have soothed him more than it did.
“She was trying to find out where you were,” he said. “I didn’t know. She didn’t believe me. Or perhaps she did; I don’t know. She killed me anyway.”
“God, Andreas,” Nora breathed, anguished. “We had no idea--if we had known--god, I’m so, so sorry--”
“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, though it did.
He sipped his tea. Nora was brushing at her tears, taking shaky breaths. Mel whispered to her, suggesting she go lie down, but she shook her head firmly.
Andreas felt a pang. He remembered the last time he had seen her, how pale and wan she had looked. She looked the same now, and he wondered what ailed her.
It distracted him from his anger….a little.
He looked at Mel, who stared back, clearly guilt-ridden. Michael beside him was leaning forward, staring haunted at the fire. Gilla was contemplating her tea sadly.
“What happened after?” she whispered.
Andreas looked away. “I woke up in my parents’ house….or it looked like their house, anyway. I was raised there. One of Them’s Valkyries was there--”
“Valkyries?” Mel asked, frowning.
“Like from Norse mythology?” Nora added, confusion clouding her lovely face.
Andreas nodded. “Them was inspired by it. She has--agents, if you will--who help her choose mortals to join her in her Realm.”
“Okay,” Nora said, nodding.
She was gazing at him intently, and he felt some of his anger begin to fade. It wasn’t their fault, he reminded himself. His emotions were misdirected.
But he couldn’t help it--if he had never met the Kings, he would still be alive today.
He continued, “She offered to bring me to Them’s Realm. No deals, no price. It was just a Place to go, other than Heaven. Heaven is a Place where nothing is experienced but happiness, and….I don’t know. It felt….how do you say--phony. Like a dream. I didn’t want to live like that. I didn’t want to be in either Place….but I couldn’t go back.”
He took a steadying breath, and sipped some more of his tea. Everyone stared at him raptly, and he could tell this was the first time they were hearing about Ascending into the Realm.
“So I Ascended. Literally….I sort of….raised up, and everything faded around me, and then I was There.”
“What’s it like?” Nora burst out.
Andreas felt his lips twitch. “It’s almost exactly like Earth. There are cities….small cities….villages, houses. Them lives in a small house by a river. We spoke--”
“What is she like? What does she look like?”
“Nora,” Mel chided quietly. “Let him breathe.”
Andreas sipped his tea. This would be a difficult conversation. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of smugness, knowing something that they didn’t.
He shook his head. “I can’t say. I can’t tell you anything about her that you don’t already know.”
Mel looked livid, and a strong cold descended upon the room, making Andreas flinch. Nora scolded Mel, and the temperature warmed.
Andreas glowered at Mel. “You should learn to control that.”
Mel looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t directed at you.”
“You can be mad at Them all you want,” Andreas replied, “she has her reasons.”
“And you know what those reasons are?”
“No,” he said slowly, “but I trust her. She gave me life, after all. After your friend took it from me.”
There was a silence, in which all four of them looked overwhelmed with guilt. Andreas drank it in hungrily. He knew he couldn’t hold it against them--not for long--but in this moment he was going to be self
ish. He deserved that at least.
Michael finally asked, “What can you do to help us?”
Andreas set his empty cup on the coffee table and stood. “It’s better if it’s done outside.”
The four looked mystified, but followed him out the back door.
It was very cold out, but it didn’t bother him. His shoes crunched on the snow, still wet, and his breath fogged the air.
He turned to face them, and, without preamble, twitched his hands. They caught fire, and the four stared as he held them up. He was just as amazed as they were, still getting used to this incredible power.
Mel was the first to speak, taking a step forward. “You can produce fire,” he breathed, his blue eyes glinting in the light of the flames. “I can manipulate it.”
And he reached out his hand, and Andreas watched, shocked, as his hand caught fire too. He twirled it in his fingers, making it dance, and Andreas was jealous; he couldn’t do that.
Yet.
Nora seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “If the two of you train together, you can strengthen your Talents, play them off each other,” she said firmly.
Andreas nodded. He suddenly felt drained, and the fire died in his hands. It was getting dark, and two men were approaching from the woods, looking curious. They refrained from speaking, and simply joined the group.
Andreas’ heart ached, and he looked at Mel. “Is there a computer somewhere?” he asked hoarsely. “I want to check Facebook….see my family….”
The four looked emotional. Nora led the way, showing him a bedroom on the ground floor first. Then she showed him the study, where a laptop sat on a desk.
“Just let me know if you….if you need anything,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.
She closed the door, and Andreas sat down. He was afraid, and his hands shook as he booted up the laptop, clicked on the internet icon. He logged onto his Facebook page, and immediately began to weep.
There were hundreds of farewell messages--from friends, from family, from colleagues, old professors. So many pictures of him and his friends, him and his sister and his parents. So many eulogies.
He desperately wanted to contact his family. Just let them know he was alive again. Talk to his mother again, hear her voice. Joke with his father. Touch his sister’s middle, feel his niece kick.
