Black

by Angelina J. Steffort

  “I am not doing anything, Claire,” his voice assured me, making the waves come even faster.

  He wasn’t? Where was this coming from then? I forced my eyes to look at the man I so ill-fatedly loved.

  He himself seemed to be shaking. The expression in his eyes, under his quivering black hair, I could finally name. It was regret.

  It escaped my attention—what was left of it anyway—what he would be regretting.

  “Adam, what is happening?” I was close to losing consciousness.

  He continuously came closer until he was right beside me.

  “Claire,” his voice washed over me. The sound of it made me choke.

  My head turned towards the open window, desperately searching for fresh air in an attempt to stay alert.

  The incoming breeze brought temporary relief and the smell of grass.

  I inhaled greedily, absorbing every last particle of oxygen in my lungs.

  For a couple of deep breaths I focused on suppressing the ache in my spine.

  Why couldn’t Jaden just wake up? I needed him.

  Breathe through it, I told myself. I had to.

  Adam was so close, I could almost feel him shake. One more breath and I would be strong enough to face him.

  I turned and caught an eerie greenish reflection in the glass—a pair of clear, gleaming eyes were looking back at me.

  The pain spiked for a long second, searing up my back and through my shoulders, making my hands ball into fists and my head snap back in agony.

  And then it was gone.

  The next time my lungs expanded, they weren’t restricted by a solid fence of pain. They moved freely, pushing my ribs gently outwards.

  The smell of grass was still lingering in the air—just now I could appreciate it differently. It filled my head and my mind pulled up images of pale-green culms and blades.

  It was the color of Adam’s eyes; the eyes that were staring at me, with a subdued glow.

  They were unblinkingly piercing mine. I saw nothing but his eyes. They were hypnotic.

  “Claire.” His voice was calm and steady, claiming my attention.

  “What just happened?” I asked automatically, unable to look away.

  No answer.

  Adam moved even closer. His hand was slowly moving up the way it had earlier.

  I shrank into the wall, bracing myself against what was coming. The pain wouldn’t surprise me this time. I forced my eyelids to drop, cutting his direct link to my emotions. The pale-green orbs disappeared behind a curtain of black and I was ready.

  Nothing happened.

  Was he playing with me—an evil predator, toying with its prey?

  Unwilling to give him the satisfaction of reading the fear in my eyes, I waited in silence. It couldn’t be long now.

  Still nothing.

  His hand didn’t pull on the strings, and the pain I was so warily expecting didn’t set in.

  “Claire,” he spoke again, softly, as if he was hoping to gain my trust.

  Hadn’t I already told him I loved him? Wasn’t that enough? What was he waiting for?

  “Open your eyes, Claire,” he asked, and my eyes obeyed.

  The curtain rose and I found myself looking at Adam’s face, too close to make out details. It was a familiar closeness.

  My better judgment told me to move away, but behind me there was only the flat wall. Even if I had found the strength to try, it would have stopped me.

  A movement in my peripheral vision caught my eye. Adam’s hand was an inch away from my cheek.

  I suddenly realized that he wasn’t going to hurt me—

  Was this even possible? It most certainly felt like it...

  “Claire,” he spoke my name for a third time. This time it was tender and emotional. “I remember.”

  My heart stuttered.

  I blinked at him, not trusting my hearing, while he was gazing at me fiercely, as if searching for a sign of comprehension.

  I was far away from comprehending anything.

  Another trap? the voice suggested. I shook my head at it. Not this time. It wouldn’t take the moment away from me.

  His sudden closeness made me want to drown in him, to block out all the past, the future, everything that was tainting the moment.

  His fingers on my cheek tore me out of my momentary mental absence. They were tracing my cheekbone lightly, making my skin tingle under his touch.

  “I remember,” he repeated. And it sank in. “I remember you. I remember—everything.”

  Memories

  A slow wave of warmth made its way through my body when the knowledge settled in.

  He remembered.

  All the hope I’d treasured in those past days, all the suffering hadn’t been in vain. He remembered.

  “Adam—” I whispered into the palm of his hand. My fingers slowly lifted to touch the back of his hand, to seal it to my cheek.

  I couldn’t find words to voice my elation. Instead, my body found a way. My heart was flying, exhilarated and wide-open for him.

  Adam carefully wound the fingers of his free hand around my other hand, gently pulling it up between our chests.

  My skin burned with delight where he touched me. It was like my whole body was singing in joy. Adam’s breath touched my face, that’s how close he was. His lips touched mine—hesitantly at first—and my mouth dropped open, inhaling his breath, inhaling him.

  His kiss was silky and soft. It brought me back to feeling like the Claire I had once been. It was like the healing of an old wound. I felt whole.

  He lingered for a brief moment before he pulled away—too early for me to be ready to let go, but the urge to look at his face, see the recognition there again, was stronger than the urge to object.

  “I am so terribly sorry.” Adam pulled me against his chest, his arms enclosing me into a long embrace.

  All I could feel was him—all I could smell. It was the most perfect moment. I snuggled against his shoulder and let my own arms sling around his waist.

  He felt perfect—like I remembered. My hands clawed into the fabric of his shirt, intending to pull him even closer against me, and touched skin.

  There was a tear across the back of his shirt, exposing his back. I let my fingers slowly search the smooth skin and hit something soft near his ribs.

  It was a familiar feeling. Light and feathery.

  In an impulse of curiosity, I opened my eyes and peeked over Adam’s shoulder. They were looking at a thick black layer of feathers. It was flowing down along his back to where my fingers had touched it.

  Are you happy now? the voice in my head wanted to know.

  I was. I had known there must be something left in Adam that was part of his former self. The pair of black, feathery wings streaming down the back of his shape was proof I’d been right.

  I am, I thought at the voice and silenced it forever.

  With a smile, I closed my eyes again and went back to enjoying the moment.

  I couldn’t tell how long we had been standing like this; I had lost track of time and place. All that mattered were Adam’s arms, as reluctant to let me go as mine were to let go of him. But there was a rustling claiming our attention from the corner.

  “Jaden,” it shot from my mouth.

  Adam moved, turning me towards the sound with him. When I reopened my eyes, Jaden was standing up behind the bed. He looked dazed.

  “Jaden, are you okay?” I tore out of Adam’s arms and rushed across the room.

  By the time I made it there, Jaden had comprehended what was going on. He was skeptically looking at the new attachment to Adam’s shoulders.

  “I am fine,” he reassured me, rubbing the back of his head with the palm of his hand. “What happened?”

  Before I could open my mouth to speak, Adam gasped in pain. His hands flung to his shoulders.

  Both Jaden and I reacted immediately, though our reactions were slightly different. While I felt heat creeping up between my shoulders while rus
hing back to Adam to find out what was going on, Jaden had disappeared, and reappeared next to Adam. He had forced him down on the floor where Adam was now writhing under Jaden.

  “Don’t hurt him,” I squealed at Jaden. My feet were not carrying me half as fast as I wanted to be there, the heat slowing me and making me slightly less coordinated than usual, but when I finally knelt down next to the two of them, Adam’s motions had become weak.

  Jaden was still pinning him down with both his hands, making sure Adam couldn’t lift his arms or hands to attack.

  Wonder was written in Jaden’s features. He must be as surprised by Adam’s wings as I was.

  “Did he hurt you?” Jaden asked over his shoulder, checking on me for a brief second, before turning back to Adam.

  “He didn’t.” Of course he didn’t. “Jaden,” I put my hand on Jaden’s shoulder, trying to calm him. “He remembers.”

  Adam’s struggle had ceased under Jaden’s constraint when Jaden finally let go, face blank.

  “He does?”

  I nodded. “He remembers who I am.”

  Jaden read my face for a minute, and without a doubt he was reading my emotions. His features were mirroring my own feelings—the bliss, the fear, the confusion.

  “What happened?” he asked and lifted his hands from Adam and gestured at Adam’s feathery attachment.

  I looked down and was taken back to the short moment of happiness I’d just experienced.

  “He didn’t hurt me,” I assured Jaden. “Quite the opposite... He kissed me—” I blushed and stopped mid-sentence.

  Jaden eyed me with a mixture of amazement and disapproval. I knew I was going to get a lecture about blind trust later. But not now. My focus was on Adam.

  “What did you do to him?” I asked my guardian angel and we both looked down on Adam’s motionless body. I wasn’t sure about Jaden’s thoughts, but he looked suspicious.

  “I just held him down. I didn’t do anything else. He passed out by himself.” Jaden’s eyes were following the line of black feathers on Adam’s back.

  He passed out—he was unconscious. My eyes followed Jaden’s gaze until they were caught by a thin, crimson trickle that was sticking the feathers together.

  Blood. Adam was hurt.

  Jaden noticed the expression on my face. “I swear, this wasn’t me.”

  He bent down to take a closer look.

  “What’s wrong with him?” My voice was impatient. An echo of how I was feeling on the inside.

  “I can’t see. It must be under the wings.” Jaden looked confused.

  I dug my fingers into the feathers carefully, separating them until I uncovered the area where the wings were growing out of Adam’s back.

  The pale skin was severed, blood leaking into the black fringe.

  “I have never seen anything like this,” Jaden whispered beside me. “We need to take care of this. Now.”

  My eyes wandered back and forth between the pooling blood and Jaden’s concerned face before I could react.

  “What do you need?” I unfroze. “I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

  I was on my feet.

  “Water, clean towels, tourniquets,” Jaden ordered.

  “We need to locate exactly where the bleeding is coming from on this wing,” his voice came from the bedroom.

  I was slamming through the cabinets, snatching every towel I could find, and filled a small bowl with warm water.

  “Correction—On both wings,” Jaden informed me as I returned with my arms full of equipment.

  Jaden grabbed a towel and started to clear the blood pool which was spreading around the roots of Adam’s wings and in between his shoulder blades. The wings he had folded up in an awkward angle from his spine.

  Jaden carefully dabbed the wound with towel after towel slowly turning red, until we finally laid eyes on Adam’s ruptured skin. It seemed like the wings had literally torn through the fragile layer.

  Jaden applied pressure to one side with a tourniquet and handed me another one.

  “Do the same thing on your side,” he directed.

  I took it from his hand.

  “Keep the pressure on until the bleeding stops.”

  My hands mechanically pushed down on the wound, relieved that I could help.

  After a long while, the endless stream of red ceased.

  “I don’t know what happened exactly,” Jaden said over a heap of blood-drenched towels. “But this is not normal.”

  I looked at him, alarmed by his statement.

  “What now?’ I asked.

  Jaden gathered up the bloody towels thoughtfully, and then examined one of the wounds for a long moment. He gestured for me to be quiet and extended his hands an inch above the broken skin. Light emitted from his palms, shimmering from the gaps between his fingers.

  The torn tissue knitted itself back together loosely. The deep clefts disappeared bit by bit, but the wounds didn’t seal completely.

  I watched the aggravatingly slow procedure, biting down on my lip nervously. It was almost impossible to stay patient; but I knew Jaden was doing what he could to make the situation better. I trusted him. And so I continued to observe until a blood-red pattern, branching out across Adam’s shoulder-blades and along his spine was all that remained.

  “I did what I could. The rest needs to heal on its own.” Jaden got to his feet, lifted the towels and disappeared to the bathroom.

  Relief spread through my system.

  “We should bring him back to his family.” The idea sounded logical to me. Chris and Jenna would want to know what had happened. And they would want to take care of him and be there for him—the same as I did.

  “I agree.” Jaden reappeared next to me. “I will need help with teleporting him back to their house. I need to find Chris or Jenna.”

  He measured my expression. “Will you be alright if I leave you for just one minute?”

  “I will.” I would simply sit and watch over Adam—make sure the blood didn’t start flowing again.

  “I’ll be back very soon.” He put his hand on my head. “I will inform them what happened and get help.”

  “Jaden,” I called when he pulled back his hand.

  “Yes, Claire?”

  “What if he wakes up?” I simultaneously hoped for and dreaded the moment, frightened that Adam’s memory would be gone again.

  “He needs to stay still so the wounds don’t reopen.” It wasn’t an answer to the question I had asked and I felt Jaden didn’t know what to say. “I’ll be back in no time.”

  He disappeared into thin air with a last golden look at me. His eyes were glowing gently.

  Beside me, Adam stirred slightly. My hands dropped onto his arm, as if to comfort him and his breathing got deeper and steadier. He looked peaceful. Almost like he was just sleeping.

  “I don’t know if you can hear me,” I said to him lowly. “When you wake up, please don’t leave again. You have bad injuries that need to heal.”

  Adam remained still, the only sign he was alive being the steady rising and falling of his ribs and the dancing of the black feathers of his wings.

  “Jaden is getting your Dad and Jenna to help bring you back home. Everything will be fine.”

  Would it? I wondered and stroked strands of dark hair out of Adam’s face. Would he stay this time? Would he go back to the demons? Would his returned memory change anything?

  “I love you, Adam.” I wanted him to know again. Even if he didn’t hear me. “I love you, more than I can put into words...”

  I stared at Adam’s face, studying his features. They looked exactly like my Adam—no trace of darkness was visible there now. It was so easy to forget that he had seen me as a target just a few hours ago. When he woke up, would he still?

  “You might be a demon, but there is good in you. I can see it when I look at you. I felt it in your embrace—in your kiss—”

  My mind yearned to return to that memory, but I didn’t let it. I needed to stay
alert.

  “—are your wings physical proof of that goodness? Can I hope—” I asked, not expecting an answer.

  “There is always hope.” Jenna’s voice startled me.

  Before I could get to my feet, she was kneeling beside me.

  “Jaden came to tell us what happened,” she explained. “Chris will be here any moment to help bring Adam back to our place.”

  “Does Ben know?” I asked, and Jenna nodded.

  “He’s preparing for our arrival.”

  We were both looking down at Adam.

  “His back looks really bad,” Jenna finally noted.

  “Jaden says he’s never seen anything like it.” Jaden had improved the condition but the red pattern on Adam’s back was still reason to worry.

  “Neither have I,” Jenna agreed. “I wish I knew what it is so I could help. But then, there is probably no reference in history that would help us.”

  “What do you mean?” I tore away from the disturbing red lines and faced Jenna.

  “You told us Liz said that the Contextus Daemonicus has been hypothetical so far. A theory. Until it was verified through Adam and you.”

  “True.” I listened to her, curious as to where she was headed.

  “But the theory ends with the connecting bond between demon and prior angel’s mark. There is no mention of what happens when the demon remembers who he was.”

  “We will need Liz to verify, but I assume you are right.” It was more than unlikely that anything like this was documented somewhere. And even if—what would be the odds of finding it? After all, none of the angels around me had heard about Contextus Daemonicus—and this was only a continuation of that theory. None of us knew what would happen if the demon remembered who they were.

  “Have you ever seen black wings before?” I asked Jenna, more to confirm my thought process.

  She didn’t disappoint. “Never.”

  My fingers automatically reached out to brush the closest part of Adam’s wings. They were unspeakably soft.

  “What do you think it means?”

  “There might be more of the old Adam left in there than we had expected,” Jenna guessed.

  That moment, Jaden reappeared across from us on Adam’s other side. Chris was right beside him, face set in a mask of suppressed hope.