“Sorry—Hi, Ben.” Sorry? Why should I be sorry? It wasn’t wrong of me to visit the Gallagers, was it?
My heart dropped in my chest. Adam’s younger brother had never liked me. Right now it seemed like not liked was a bit of an understatement. Ben hated me, but I didn’t know why.
I simply could not understand that cold, wordless glare, rooting me to the spot as he turned to sidestep around me as if I were something repulsive. He said nothing, but launched himself off the steps. I stayed immobile, still facing the open door but not seeing it, only listening to the crunch of gravel under his feet, then the sound of his car engine and wheels as he shot down the driveway. Ben. He wanted me gone, I was sure of it.
“Miss Gabriel?”
I snapped to attention and saw that Geoffrey, the Gallagers’ butler, was right in front of me, his face polite as always.
“It’s good to see you again, Miss Gabriel. Please, come in.”
I watched him pull the door open wider as to show that I was still welcome at this house.
Yeah, right, I thought as a flash of Ben’s hateful face reminded me of the opposite.
Maybe Geoffrey was glad to see me, but at least one member of this family couldn’t stand the sight of me.
“Mrs. Gallager is expecting you in the living room.” I offered a weak smile and a nod at Geoffrey, such a kind man, who was gesturing for me to come in.
Strings of hesitation were trying to hold me back as I stepped over the threshold into the old house. Was I really welcome? Ben certainly didn’t feel that way. Maybe they all were just waiting for me to get over Adam and get out of their lives. And only Ben was honest enough to convey that. Despite this awful thought, I somehow found the will to step into the hall. I took in the familiar sight... The marble stair on the right wound upwards into the balcony that was carried by four massive columns. The artfully decorated walls were still standing in the same places, cutting the entrance hall into an impressive room. I shrank a few inches just looking up at the ceiling.
I realized I had stopped again and Geoffrey was still politely standing there as chilly evening air filtered in, unable to close the beautifully carved door until I moved.
I knew I had to do something, either turn and run, or go forward. So, I took a deep breath and stepped towards the living room.
The door was open and I slowly moved one foot after another until I could see Jenna sitting on the beige brocade sofa across the room. She held a white china cup in her hand and was about to lift it up to her mouth when she noticed me standing in the doorway.
“Come in, Claire,” she said in her warm and friendly manner as she got to her feet.
I walked towards her, my heart hopping in place, and tried a smile—as usual without success.
Jenna met me in the middle of the room.
“Hi,” I croaked with my throat tightened by the irony of the moment. Jenna was wearing a blue cotton dress. The one she had worn when Adam first introduced me to his family. It looked lovely on her, even now, with the memory of her dead son clinging to the sight.
Jenna pulled me into a tight hug. I felt a stab in my chest as I heard her sob into my hair. I put my arms around her and tried to comfort her with quiet pats on her shoulder. I felt worse at the thought that it was my fault that she was still mourning for her stepson and I felt miserable when I painfully remembered how he had died for me. Worst of all—Jenna didn’t even knew. She still thought it had been suicide.
I pulled away after a minute, full of guilt, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to hold back my own tears much longer.
Jenna kept one arm on my shoulder and led me to the sofa, where she sat down while I let myself fall into one of the beige sofa-chairs.
“Would you like some tea?” she asked me, gesturing at a china teapot in the middle of the coffee table. It was sitting on a silver tray with a fresh cup and a plate of cookies.
I nodded. At least the tea would give me something to do with my hands. Jenna took the pot and poured some of the hot liquid into the cup, then handed it to me and took her own cup back into her hands.
“How are you?” she asked with a faint smile on her lips. It was an echo of the warm smiles I had seen her offer.
I looked into the teacup, trying to find an answer to her question there, but I already knew what I was going to say.
“Fine, I think,” I told her, not looking up. I was positive that she would see the lie in my eyes if I did. “How is Chris?” I asked in return, trying to get the topic as far away from what I felt as possible. “You said you wanted to talk about him …”
“Yes, we need to talk.” Jenna shifted uncomfortably and glanced at the open door to the entrance hall.
“Where is he?” I asked, following her gaze, but finding nothing but the yawning emptiness of the entrance hall. “Is he alright?”
“Sure he is—as good as he can be in this difficult situation.”
“Is he here?” The way she was talking about him started to make me anxious about him.
“He is,” she said with a meaningful look in her eyes.
“Can I talk to him?” I asked, honestly worried now.
Jenna got to her feet, her cup still in her hands. “Follow me,” she said and started walking back towards the entrance hall. “And take your cup, too. This might take a while.”
I did as she told me, mystified by her words. Jenna led me to the room at the other side of the entrance hall. The room was as big as the other one, but it looked completely different. A hearth fire was burning cosily to the left and comfortable armchairs were arranged around it with a couch. A small table was standing between them. It was overflowing with books and notes. Chris was sitting in the chair farthest from the door. His eyes were staring into the fire, his face was expressionless. Nothing but the fire lightened up the huge room and it was steadily getting darker outside.
“Chris,” Jenna closed the door behind us and walked to stand beside her husband. She put her hand on his shoulder and his head snapped up, his eyes locking on hers. “I’ve got a visitor for you.”
Chris turned his head slowly until his eyes found me in the twilight. I felt them burn on my face as he stared at me for a few seconds.
“Hello, Chris,” I said, not knowing what to expect, and took a step towards him. Jenna nodded encouragingly and took her husband’s hand.
“She’s come to see how you’re doing,” she told him with a kind tone.
“Has she?” Chris suddenly asked. His voice sounded broken. It held all the suffering that was written in the lines on his face and even more, invisible pain was sounding in his words.
“How are you, Chris?” I asked him and took another few steps towards him until I stood close enough to touch him.
Suddenly he jumped to his feet and pulled me into his arms with such force that I could barely breathe. “They’re gone,” he whined into my ear.
“I know, he’s not coming back,” I said a little surprised, my arms outstretched, not knowing what to do. Helplessly I glanced over Chris’ shoulder at Jenna who was lifting her hands defensively and grimaced apologetically.
“Not he,” Chris said a little harsh. “They!” He pulled me closer, clinging to me like a drowning man would to a piece of wood.
“What do you mean—they?” I asked utterly confused.
“My wings.”
I stared at Jenna, mouth gaping, eyes wide open. She didn’t even flinch at his words.
“But I thought you said she didn’t know,” I whispered to Chris, well aware that Jenna would hear me.
Chris pulled away and looked at my face while he talked. “She knows everything.”
I felt my eyes jump between Chris and Jenna hysterically as I took in what he had just said. Jenna knowing everything meant Jenna knowing that it had been my fault that her step-son had died. It meant Jenna knowing about Chris’ secret and it also meant that she would know that there was a chance, her second son, Ben, could be taken from her one day for similar reasons.
My body went stiff with fear from the fury I was expecting to rain down on me any second. Internally I cringed away from Chris’ hands as he held me at length and shook my shoulders in the hope to trigger a response in my stone-like body.
“I think she’s in shock,” his voice touched my ear from a distance. From the way I was feeling, I thought I might agree with him.
“Let’s give her a minute.” This time it was Jenna’s voice. She walked over to stand beside Chris. “It’s alright,” she said. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“Fine?” I finally spluttered out. “How are things supposed to be fine?” I unfroze from the place I was standing and launched myself into the nearest armchair. I had no idea where they came from, but crazy thoughts were whirling wildly in my head. I felt desperate and responsible for these good people. I felt I had to warn them, protect them. “She’s in danger, Chris,” I half-shouted at him. “Don’t you understand?”
His face was calm and still carried the burning expression it had before.
“They are going to come for her. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but sooner or later they are going to take her away from you.” Plain hysteria made my mind go blank again. if they were going to come for her, they might stop by to get me as well. And what about Ben—
“You have to hide somewhere, Jenna. And take Ben with you.” I could clearly feel the desperation in my words. I was fearing for their lives as much as for my own and I wished there was a way to protect them. Worst of all, I already guessed that there would be neither a place for us to hide nor their willingness to hide at all. I could see it in their eyes; their decision had already been made and it obviously wasn’t my call to tell them what to do. I was the reason their first son was dead. I wouldn’t put any trust in myself if I were them—how could they, after all that had happened?
“Claire, calm down,” Jenna told me. She didn’t sound angry.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded, my voice shaking with a mixture of emotions. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?” I repeated.
“We were about to call you any day now.” Jenna sat down on the armrest of my chair and put one hand on my shoulder.
“We wanted to give you some time,” Chris said and his face looked a little smoother, less in pain, more focused, as he talked to me. “We knew that you would suffer almost as much as I do. All we wanted was for you to be stable enough. We knew it was about time to talk to you, but we were hoping you would call yourself—as you did, luckily.
“I know I should have called—checked on you,” I mumbled, embarrassed that I hadn’t taken care of my angel’s family.
“It’s fine,” Chris interrupted me. “We could have called, too. But we didn’t, hoping that you would be ready soon. You needed the time to get over the worst.”
“How long have you known?” I turned to Jenna, beginning to be a little confused. “What did he tell you?”
Jenna gave me a motherly smile and stroked over my hair lightly.
“I’ve known from the beginning. Of course I knew. How couldn’t I?” Jenna smiled at Chris and he grinned back at her. It broke through his tormented expression like a ray of sunlight through the cloud bank. They smiled at each other for a while, making me feel like they had forgotten I was there.
“Chris told me that he was an angel in the very beginning,” Jenna said, still smiling. Her smile became even wider.
I remembered how Chris had told me about Adam’s birth, about what had happened there.
I cleared my throat cautiously and their gazes became a little less distant.
Her eyes lingered on my face, scrutinizing it for a moment. “When Adam showed the first signs, we were so worried.”
“I’m sorry,” I tried to wrap my head around what Jenna had said. “I don’t understand—”
Jenna and Chris both turned their eyes on me.
“You both knew,” I gasped. “Why wasn’t it dangerous for you to know?” I was confused. Everyone had made such a fuss about how it would have been best if I had never known about Adam...
Jenna laughed. How could she laugh about something like that? Adam was dead. Being an angel hadn’t helped him at all. I felt like tearing her smile from her lips with my nails.
“Claire, you mustn’t be angry with me,” she said, the smile fading. “I am grieving for Adam. You know I loved him like he was my own child. I miss him and I always will.” The words sounded honest.
“Then why—” I didn’t get to word my question. Jenna was answering it the moment the first words had left my mouth.
She reached behind her back with her hands and I heard a sound like a zipper being opened. The next second, Jenna was framed by feathery shapes on both sides of her shoulders. Her eyes were glowing a light brown, a color very similar to the one I had seen in Jaden’s eyes.
Family
I was sitting in the Gallagers’ living room, the hearth fire warming my side, and reassessing the situation. Jenna had made her wings disappear when I had managed to close my mouth after a minute of gaping at her. Chris had stood beside her perfectly calm, marveling at her like a boy. Now the two of them were sitting opposite me in two chairs, their eyes on my face, a little nervous. I had panicked and almost knocked my chair over as I had shifted it back half a yard, hysteria filling me.
I still didn’t feel comfortable with opening my mouth to speak, though I had millions of questions I wanted to throw at them. How had they been able to keep me in the dark? How was it possible neither of them had ever suspected the other for what they were? How had Jenna been able to carry a child? Was it normal for angels? Did Ben know? What did this mean for me? Would I be in less danger? Or in more? What about Jaden? Could I tell him? Did he already know?
My stomach growled with tension. I looked up, half-expecting Jenna and Chris to react to the sound; but they stayed where they were. Chris’ blue eyes were alive, scanning my face carefully, and Jenna wore an apologetic expression. Both perfectly patient, waiting until I was ready.
I inhaled deeply and shifted in my chair. I felt oddly out of place in this all-magical set of people. The air filled my lungs and my mind slowly began to grasp what that meant.
“Jenna,” I rasped. My voice didn’t sound like it belonged to me at all.
“Yes, honey?” She was on her feet and standing right in front of me in no time. I couldn’t even blink, it happened so fast. The backrest of my chair forbade my shrinking too far away from her too-quick movement.
“Sorry,” her eyes searched my face for signs of new hysteria. As they didn’t find any, she reached out her hand to touch my head; a comforting gesture. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I just shook my head. “You didn’t,” I lied.
Jenna smiled at my feeble attempt. Naturally, she was seeing right through me.
“When I came here today, I didn’t expect anything like this,” I said, my voice still not really under full control.
“Do you understand now—why we waited with telling you?” Chris asked from where he was sitting.
“But I’m not stable at all.” I was still feeling the wires tearing through my insides, my heart screaming for mercy, and my mind unable to shut out the images of my beloved Adam.
“You are stronger than you think, Claire.” It was Jenna again. “You are an amazing girl—the way you handle all the loss and the pain.”
I thought about what she was saying for a while.
“Does Ben know?” I asked.
Chris shook his head.
“We want to protect him as long as we can.” Jenna’s voice was dark. “He might never transform if there is no catalyst. Who knows.”
“It would be best for him.” Chris agreed.
I nodded weakly. Then a question sprang to my mind and it rushed out through my lips before I could hold it back.
“How old are you, Jenna?” the words flowed on their own. I bit my tongue the second they were out, but it was too late anyway.
She gave me a warm smile
. “Forty-two—right now.”
“And your real age?” The number she had named obviously wasn’t her true age.
Another smile, a little girlish this time.
“I’m older than this house.”
I sucked in a breath and my eyes widened with surprise. That wasn’t what I’d been expecting, but somehow it seemed odd that she would express her age in terms of the house. I tried to remember what Adam had told me. Lenard Mansion, built by William Lenard in the late nineteenth century.
“So, William Lenard was not your great grandfather—?”
“He was my brother,” Jenna said dryly. “I was born in eighteen-seventy-eight as Jane Louise Lenard. My oldest brother, Charles, was seven years older than me. He was a good man. He always took care of me and my other brother, William.
Jenna’s eyes grew distant and even Chris’ face hardened a little as she continued talking.
“Charles and I had a lot in common. He had love for arts and for knowledge. He read hundreds of books. He always cared for the poorer and less-blessed in this world.
“William, on the other hand, was a greedy man. He already was as a boy—nothing of any value was safe from his greedy little fingers. He was a year younger than me. Our parents died when we were young—I was only fifteen,” my heart sank with sadness as I realized the fate of the woman standing in front of me was so similar to mine, “and Charles was left to look after us. He had to bring in the money and it was only a matter of time until William began to claim all of it.
“We couldn’t live off what our parents had left us for long, so William presented the idea to go away, to start some place entirely new. Charles and I found it a good idea to get away from the memories, from the problems in the country—it was hard times then—and so we left Europe and found ourselves on a ship to America.” She smiled without humor.
“After weeks on the ship, we set foot on the new land. Charles found us a place to live. He was an educated man and had no problem finding a job in a bank. He earned enough for us to live on. William worked too, but just a little, living mainly on Charles’ money.
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