“If you collapse for need of a healer before we get to the College, that could keep us all out after dark,” Suriel said.
“If I am too weak to serve the angels as Sentinel, then I will take whatever fate awaits me.”
She touched his bare arm. “No, Harshiel, no.”
He looked where she touched him as if her pale hand against his muscled dark meant far more than just the hand of a friend. For the first time I wondered if there was more than friendship between them, or if he wished there was more—did Suriel feel the same? I had a moment of thinking what it would be like to be near to someone you wanted, loved, and be forever denied. I had proven that I was not that strong long ago. Had they been stronger?
She dropped her hand away from him. “We will need a car to take us home, you can’t walk far like this.”
“Maybe we can give you an escort to make up for the poor hospitality?” Charleston said.
“We would gladly accept,” Suriel said.
“Zaniel cannot be part of that escort,” Harshiel said; his voice had fallen back into the growling warning again.
“On this we agree,” I said.
He frowned at me, still leaning on Turmiel. He could not stand unaided—that wasn’t good. How badly had I hurt him? I was angry and disappointed in myself for the loss of control. I knew better.
“Are you really going to refuse medical treatment?” paramedic Roger asked.
“I will return to my home,” Harshiel said.
“Fine, if you start peeing blood then your kidneys are ruptured. If the pain gets really severe, maybe same thing.”
“Are you trying to frighten me into going to your doctor?”
“Wouldn’t dream of ruining your chance to martyr yourself on some kind of macho power kick,” Roger said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Paramedic Sam said, “Maybe you don’t, but I hope your healers at this College of yours are better than our hospitals.”
“They are far superior,” Harshiel said. He took in a deep breath and stood a little straighter. His grip on Turmiel loosened, but he leaned against the desk almost like he’d sit on the edge of it.
“I’ll help escort them,” Lila said, as she came to stand beside Harshiel, as if ready to catch him if he fell again. She was looking somewhere around his abs, which were a little compressed as he sat. I suddenly saw him from Lila’s perspective as a very in-shape, athletic man and she was single. I tried to remember if I’d ever mentioned that Angel Speakers were celibate. It probably hadn’t come up in conversation.
I had a moment of debating on letting her pursue him, or saving them both the trouble. If he hadn’t been hurt I’d have been tempted to let Lila try, but he was hurt and . . . I moved toward her, planning to say something, but the paramedics moved in again with more warnings and notes for the healers, and Turmiel caught my attention.
I let him lead me to the side of everything. “Master Donel requests a favor if you are willing.”
“For Master Donel, anything.”
“His sister is alone in the city now; everyone has moved away, or passed away. He would like someone to check on her. If she is in need, could you leave a message at the College?”
I was startled because we gave up all birth family when we became an Angel Speaker, but Turmiel was part of Donel’s family of birth so maybe that changed things, but in the end it didn’t matter. I said the only thing I could say. “Of course, what is her name, and do you have an address?”
“Only her name,” he said.
I wrote down the name, both the Americanized version she’d been using when Turmiel had come to the College of Angels at age seven and her original first name when she and Donel arrived from the Philippines as children. Turmiel only knew the last address of his own mother and siblings, not his aunt, but he’d been seven; you memorize your home address, not everyone else’s. I put the information in my phone and had barely gotten it when Harshiel almost yelled, “Turmiel, we are leaving.”
I reached out and clasped Turmiel’s arm above the leather bracers on his wrists, so that we gave the greeting of Sentinel brothers-in-arms. It was strange how quickly I was falling back into old habits. “Give my best to Master Donel.”
He clasped my arm and said, “I will.”
“And please tell me how Harshiel is. If I’ve truly injured him I’ll never forgive myself. It was careless.”
“I will find a way to let you know, I promise.
I wanted to hug Suriel goodbye, but there was no chance to say any other goodbyes; they were ready to go and that was that. Harshiel was determined to be gone and Suriel couldn’t seem to find an excuse to delay. Lila and Old MacGregor drove them back to the College. I realized after they left that I hadn’t warned Lila that Harshiel was celibate. I hoped she didn’t flirt too hard with him on the drive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
I went home, glad about it for once. Whatever they’d given me at the hospital when they bandaged my arm and stomach was wearing off, or maybe my body was finally letting me feel it. The nail marks in my arm hurt the worst, as if every scratch suddenly decided to be a sharp pain every time I used it, and since I’m right-handed, I used it a lot. The stomach was a little tender, I mean I wouldn’t want to do sit-ups, but it didn’t hurt like I’d been stabbed by a demon, though it did hurt like I’d taken a good shot to the gut. I was grateful that it didn’t hurt worse and said a little prayer of gratitude, but it was still unsettling that the wounds kept bleeding when a doctor, a nurse, and four paramedics had all assured me it was impossible for wounds this closed to bleed, at all.
My apartment building was in El Segundo, close to the airport, not too close to the runways, but sometimes, depending on the wind or other air traffic, the main flight path shifted and the planes went directly overhead. Those nights the sounds of planes turned into the sound of bombs and mortars and I really regretted signing a yearlong lease instead of renting month to month, but the places that would let me rent by the month weren’t good enough to bring Connery or Reggie to. The idea was that she would come over to the apartment and visit in a more neutral place than the house we’d made together. It hadn’t worked out that way; she’d been in the apartment just once to make sure she was comfortable with Connery staying overnight.
I pulled into the street in front of the building. I had to go around to get into the covered parking area. A parking area that was covered and not visible from the street was one of the reasons I’d taken the apartment. There was a man sitting on the steps in front of the gated front entrance as I drove around for parking. He was clean-cut, shortish brown hair, Caucasian or pale Hispanic, checked flannel shirt, jeans, running shoes that had seen better days. It was too hot for the flannel and the clothes didn’t fit right; if he hadn’t been clean, I’d have thought maybe homeless. I pulled into the parking area and was starting to park the car when I slammed on the brakes because my head finally realized I knew the face. I hadn’t seen it without a beard and long hair in ten years, but it was Jamie.
I managed not to hit the wall in the parking garage, but it took effort. I had to control my breathing like I’d seen a ghost. I so did not need this today after seeing Suriel, Harshiel, Turmiel, but especially Suriel, but I couldn’t leave Jamie sitting on the steps; part of me wanted to just pretend I didn’t recognize him with the new haircut, but I couldn’t be that shitty to him. I owed him more than that. I owed myself more than that.
I went up the stairs from the parking area to the main floor, though it was narrow enough I had to be careful that my shoulders didn’t scrape on the walls. It was also dimmer and cooler like a narrow bit of cave; I used to take my sunglasses off in the tunnel, but I knew better now. Full sunshine dazzled the eyes at the top of the stairs, bouncing off the blue water of the pool, so that without sunglasses you were blinded until your eyes adjusted.
The pool was at the center of an open courtyard with first-floor apartments on the pool level, and stairs leading u
p to the second-floor apartments. I started to make the turn up the stairs to my apartment but stopped with my foot on the first step. I looked across the pool toward the far entrance. I could glimpse the black iron gate that stayed locked to keep anyone out who didn’t have the code. There was a short corridor that led from the pool area to the gate, and it was just enough distance that standing outside the gate you couldn’t see into the main courtyard except for a glimpse of the pool. The privacy from casual passersby was one of the main selling points of the place, that and a pool for Connery. Our house didn’t have a pool, and I’d wanted something for him to do when he visited. I’d heard too many parents on the job who divorced and then couldn’t get the kids to visit them, or spent too much money on amusement parks, or other things like it was a contest. Who could be more interesting? Who would buy them more stuff? Reggie and I had agreed we wouldn’t let that happen; so far, we’d managed it. It helped that Connery was only three.
I started walking around the pool toward the gate. Maybe Jamie was back on his meds, or they’d found better ones for him? I prayed as I walked and hoped someone heard me that cared. Seeing so many old friends from the College had shaken me, and now Jamie, it seemed like an awfully big coincidence. I didn’t mean Surrie or Jamie planned it, I meant higher up. God doesn’t usually interfere directly, but some of his angels can. One dose of full-blown angel magic and I was suddenly paranoid, but that didn’t mean I was wrong.
My neighbor and apartment manager, Doris, opened the door of her apartment, which sat like a homey guard shack at the entrance to the corridor and its locked gate. She came out into the bright sunshine shielding her eyes with her hand above her cat’s-eye glasses, not the new ones that everyone seemed to be wearing this year regardless of age, but the original old-lady design, because Doris admitted to being over sixty, and I was betting over seventy was more honest, but Reggie had taught me not to question a woman’s age whether she’s turning thirty for the third time or staying in her sixties for the next twenty years.
“The man says he’s your friend, but I didn’t recognize him. He says he shaved his beard and cut his hair, and maybe he did, but you know I don’t buzz anyone in that I don’t know.”
“You did exactly right, Doris. It is my friend, but even I didn’t recognize him for a second.”
“Who knew there was such a handsome young man under all that hair,” she said, smiling up at me. Doris was short enough that looking up at me always looked like it hurt her neck. I usually tried to sit down if we had to talk for any length of time.
“I’ll just go see what he wants,” I said, and tried to move past her, but it wasn’t always easy to get out of conversation with Doris. She trailed after me in her slippers. She almost never put on real shoes unless she left the apartment building. She seemed to live in oversized shirts and long shorts or those pants that almost reach your ankles but don’t. Reggie didn’t wear them so I didn’t know what they were called, but they always puzzled me as if the person couldn’t decide if they wanted to wear shorts or pants.
I didn’t want to be rude, and I also didn’t want an audience for talking to Jamie through the gate, but I was going to start with the gate between us. I didn’t want to invite him into the building if he wasn’t safe to be around the other tenants. That wouldn’t be fair.
There was a bark from behind us and then her two pug puppies came racing out. They capered around her ankles and made it impossible for her to follow me until she’d calmed them down. Her elderly pug, Fred, had fooled me into thinking pugs were couch potatoes, but apparently that was just an elderly-pug thing, because the two tiny puppies were bundles of energy with tiny curly tails that wagged constantly. She leaned down, talking to them in that high-pitched pet voice. “What are you two doing out here? Did Fred knock the baby gate over for you again?”
Watching the two puppies bark, pant, and circle around her like furry little mushed-face potatoes on speed, I was pretty sure they’d escaped all on their own. Either way I was free to walk to the locked gate and talk to Jamie.
He got up off the steps and walked toward me, as if he’d heard me coming. He was older than the last time I’d seen his face bare and though I’d seen him regularly for years, it reminded me of the changes in Suriel’s face. It was them, just more grown-up. The look in his eyes was calm, happy, peaceful. It was his eyes before the angels broke him. I had to swallow past a lump in my throat. For the first time I felt like it was Jamie and not this other person that his mental illness had transformed him into. He had become his illness, so broken, eyes frantic, startling at things that I couldn’t see or feel, as if he were always surrounded by an evil, taller version of the pug puppies leaping and demanding attention.
I walked toward those familiar gentle eyes and was afraid to speak first, as if it were a dream and words would shatter it, but Doris had seen him, too. I wasn’t hallucinating, or seeing a vision, but still I stood there and didn’t know what to say first. So much I wanted to say while he looked like he could hear me and understand. I wanted to tell him so much before his illness took him away again. Jamie had helped teach me that death wasn’t the only way to lose someone.
“Say something, Havoc.”
I startled and realized I’d half expected him to call me Zaniel. “Something,” I said.
He laughed, and it was a real laugh, his old laugh, which I’d grown to love when we were kids. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed the sound of it.
“You were always the serious one, but then you’d say something like that and be funny as Heaven.” His voice was rougher than of old, but then he’d spent nearly thirteen years screaming his madness at anyone that would listen or couldn’t get away fast enough. He’d been cast out of the College two years before I left voluntarily.
I hit the buzzer on the gate so I could swing it open and step through. I needed to be sure before I let him inside. I could hear Doris talking baby talk to the puppies. We had other families here with kids.
His smile wilted a little around the edges, and his eyes showed the first pain. “I’m so sorry for anything I did before.” His face started to crumple and suddenly lines were in his face that the beard had hidden. The years on the streets had carved their way onto that boyishly handsome face, but now he looked like an older, more tired version of himself and not some bearded stranger. I couldn’t bear to see unhappiness in this new old face.
I took the steps that let me put a hand on either side of his face and leaned down so I could touch my forehead to his. Then we were hugging, and the body was still that stranger’s body, too thin and frail from never enough food, never enough care and attention to it. I held him tight, the old and the new, and thanked God and the angels for this moment of clarity. If it never came again, I’d seen his brown eyes filled up again, his smile on the face I remembered, and for that I was truly thankful, but because I was human, I asked for more. I asked for him to stay sane and whole and be my family again, and I asked forgiveness for wanting more when I’d just been given so much.
I found my voice first, and asked, “Jamie, how?” Because it’s also human to question miracles.
He pulled back enough to look up at me. There were tears on his face, too. “That is not my name and hasn’t been my name since I walked through the gates of the College of Angels and they christened us with our angel names.”
I wiped at my face with the back of my hands as we both stepped back out of the hug. I wanted to take his hand in mine and keep holding on, because only that would make it real.
“Levanael,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, that name is still forbidden.”
“Then what do I call you?”
“Levi, call me Levi.”
“Levi,” I said, trying the new name out; it felt okay. I reached out and took his hand like I was shaking it, but I just needed to keep touching him, as if he’d change back into crazy Jamie if I didn’t hold on to him.
He squeezed my hand and didn’t let go,
as if he understood some of what was happening inside me. He’d been my best friend, closer to me than my actual brother, closer to me even than Suriel, or maybe his loss had driven us apart, I couldn’t remember anymore; all I knew was that I didn’t want to let him go, and part of me wanted to call Surrie and say, Look, look, he’s back, our other third, the person who helped make the three of us whole.
“How? How did you . . . get cleaned up?” It sounded like I was asking him about drug rehab instead of recovering his sanity, but I didn’t know how to ask the other.
“I’ll tell you everything I remember.”
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
He grinned at me, and it hurt my heart to see that old expression in his face. “Aren’t I always?”
The truth was that Jamie wasn’t. He never ate enough even when I tried to give him food. Levanael had eaten like the teenage boy he’d been.
“Come on up, I’ll fix you something.”
“I remember you learned to cook for just you, or you and Connery, or you and me. When you first left the College, you could only cook for big groups.”
“That’s right,” I said, squeezing his hand and starting to lead him inside the gate by the hand like he was Connery. “We never cooked for just ourselves in the College, it was always a group activity.”
“We didn’t have to do a lot of things for ourselves,” he said, and sounded sad.
I pulled on his hand so I could get him to look at me. He still looked sane, but sad and tired. “I’ll feed you and then maybe you can catch some sleep.”
He shook his head. “Food, then I tell you what I remember. I’m afraid to sleep. I’ve spent so many years not knowing which is real and which is dream and which is . . . other.”
I wanted to ask what he meant by other, but I didn’t. I’d ask after he’d eaten, or maybe I wouldn’t. I didn’t have to know all the details of the miracle all at once.
CHAPTER FORTY
We helped Doris catch the puppies, which were doing laps around the pool. Jamie laughed as he held a squirming puppy. It struggled not to get down, but to lick his face. He’d been afraid of dogs, of most animals, for years, and now he acted like an armful of puppy was the best thing in the world. It made my heart ache to see him so happy about anything, but especially one of the many things he’d seemed terrified of for over ten years. I would not cry in front of him while he was laughing, but I wanted to; luckily the puppy in my hands gave a serious squirm and I had to concentrate not to drop it. The thought that I might drop the tiny dog instead of saving it was enough to dry up any thoughts of tears.
A Terrible Fall of Angels Page 24