I sat up, no longer comfortable with the coziness of the bed. Anything too comforting could no longer be true if Leon wasn’t who I had believed him to be. He had been the perfect companion over those past years. My sunshine. My friend. And now, what was he—?
Stay away from him, Laney. Gran’s words echoed in my mind. Be careful who you give your heart to.
Had she known something was different about him? She hadn’t seemed surprised to see him there when her soul left her body. She had known I saw her.
I flung my hands to my head, attempting to contain the headache unfolding as my thoughts circled helplessly around the image of her flickering shape, dissolving into a silver star … and Leon inhaling her in a deep breath, disappearing into thin air.
A buzz sounded from the dresser, making me unfold from the bed and open the sock drawer where my phone was ringing again, the display showing the face of my white-blond friend in a white Henley, and his name in a simple, clean font: Leon Milliari.
Chapter Nine
“Are you okay?” he asked by way of greeting, his voice so familiar and yet not. That of a stranger, of an invisible man, of a soul sucker.
I frowned at the wall, noticing the tiny fissures in the paint where I had been too lazy to do a second round when I had redone the room last year.
“Laney?”
It cost me all my strength to say hello and try to remember what he had asked me before. All I could see was how the silver star had disappeared in between his lips.
“I was with Mom all day,” I said, feeling that it sounded like an excuse, not an explanation.
“And now?” There was concern in his voice; even over the phone, it was obvious.
“I am debating if I should go to bed early.” A glance at the setting sun told me that I wouldn’t be able to get a minute of sleep until the darkness of night swept me away—or exhaustion.
“I need to talk to you.”
I couldn’t respond. He needed to talk to me.
I will explain.
Was that what he intended to do? Was I ready for it? The icy cold from the nursing home overcame me once more, and I closed my eyes with a sigh.
“Can I come over?” he asked as I didn’t respond. “Or will your mom throw me out?”
I heard the real question in his tone. Will you throw me out?
My fingers were suddenly slippery as I thought of the prospect of him being in the same room with me. Of the invisible boy who had taken my Gran somewhere. Gran had warned me about him. To stay away…
“You don’t need to drive all the way here,” I said, unable to predict if fear was going to outmatch my curiosity. For the moment I had picked up the phone, I had felt it tingle in my chest, the pull of the secret that he had to share, that I had witnessed, to talk about everything that had been bottled up for a year, banned from our thoughts as well as possible. It was as if his voice had torn open the pit in which we had buried it.
“I don’t need to drive,” he said with something like unease in his tone, making me wonder if he was afraid to face me.
I sure was to face him.
“What, you are already here at the door?” I prompted, half-afraid to hear the answer.
“No.” I could picture him shaking his head at the phone as he spoke, blond strands dancing on his forehead. “But now I am here.”
I stumbled into the dresser as I turned around at his voice, no longer in the speaker of my phone but right behind me. My knee hit the black wood, and I gasped in pain, turning on one foot and cursing under my breath.
“Hello,” he whispered, face unreadable, sending me into nervous hyperventilation as I hopped toward the bed.
Leon whirled around, kneeling on the gray carpet before I could object, holding my knee between his fingers, eyes intent on my jeans as if waiting for blood to seep through the fabric.
I tried to slide back, but his hands held fast.
“It’s not as bad as it looked,” he said, letting go of my knee, and I wasn’t certain he was talking about my knee.
He sat back onto his sneakers, hands resting on his thighs, and waited for my breathing to slow, his coffee brown gaze unusually insecure as it searched my face for signs I was ready to talk.
I wasn’t. How had he just popped up out of thin air? How, for God’s sake?
Then the scene from the nursing home replayed in my mind, Leon disappearing with Gran’s soul in his mouth, his lungs, or whatever separate organ he might possess. I shuddered involuntarily and slithered further away from him, folding my legs on the bed, out of his reach. Not that it would make any difference. If he had just hopped from his house right into my room, he could probably overpower me even if I ran to the other end of the world.
“How—” I gulped down a couple more breaths before I managed to steady my voice. “How did you do that?” I wasn’t sure if I meant his travel mode or what I had witnessed in Gran’s room. Either way, I asked.
The tension crumbled from Leon’s face like a mask at the sound of my voice—or the indication that I was ready to talk.
“I am glad you are asking the easy question first.” His lips split into a weak smile. Not weak. Uncertain.
He studied me for a moment as if debating whether I could handle the answer. “You know you can kick me out,” he said, darkness entering his expression at the offer.
“And what good would that do?” I found myself asking in return, holding his gaze, my voice still not up to the standards I had mastered over the past year when shakiness had been dominating my every word in the first weeks after the accident. It was as if no time had passed as Leon straightened and gestured at the edge of the bed.
I shrugged, the same way I had a year ago. And Leon sat down in the exact same way he had after the accident, forearms resting on his thighs, fingers interlaced between his knees, looking at the floor. Only this time, there was a comfortable distance between us, his warmth too far away to be comforting … and far away enough to keep my panic at bay.
His weight shifted the mattress enough that I unfolded my legs, setting my own feet down onto the carpet.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, not looking up, face hidden by white-blond strands.
For a moment, I eyed him from the side, anxious to meet his gaze, but then I turned away. This wasn’t the Leon I knew. This was some strange version of my Leon, soul-sucking and invisible … wait, was he invisible right now? If Mom walked in, would she be able to see him?
“Thank you,” I said for lack of a better response and absently rubbed my knee where a bruise was probably already developing under my pants.
My gaze fell on the alarm clock on the nightstand. 7:38. My chest tightened.
“Why are you here?” I finally asked when I had given up on knowing how much time had passed.
Leon straightened beside me, his movements as familiar as my own, and yet strange. “I promised I would explain.”
Our gazes finally met as I turned to face him. Coffee brown, vivid eyes stared back at me with sorrow and wisdom I had never noticed before. My breathing slowed as I held his stare, the depths of his eyes like an anchor … and yet…
“Then explain,” I murmured, unable to look away.
It was Leon who broke the gaze, freeing me of the intensity of his eyes, of the years of memories of growing up together … and the image of him inhaling the silver star of Gran’s soul.
“You weren’t meant to be there,” he said, staring at his hands now, at the floor, at the wall, the ceiling. Anything seemed to make him more comfortable than my measuring gaze, the questions burning there. “I was meant to pick her up last night, but she held out longer … long enough for you to wake, for you to come to the nursing home so you could hear her final words. So that you would see me…” His voice trailed away as if realizing what he was saying didn’t make any sense to me.
He got to his feet like the Leon I remembered, but somehow each of his movements was more deliberate, not as carefree. For a minute, he pac
ed the small space between the door and the dresser, frowning each time he met my gaze.
“You knew Gran was dying?” I prompted before I added the other suspicion, the one that made ice crawl up and down my spine. “Or you killed her?” My words were less than a whisper. Not Leon. Not my Leon, who had been my rock since childhood. But then, did I truly know who my Leon was? After today—
He stopped in his tracks, horror on his face as if he was just realizing this was the obvious conclusion to his words. “Of course, I didn’t kill her, Laney,” he purred and continued pacing. “I wasn’t even there when she died the way I should have been …” His brows furrowed more deeply as he studied the uninteresting gray of the floor.
As for me, I had no idea what to make of his words, what to believe, what to even think. So I sat and watched him unravel what he had to say. Better not jump to conclusions too fast.
What would have helped was to know which questions to ask in order to get some answers that made sense to me … and the nerves to not run screaming from the room at the sight of what was obviously impossible.
“What were you doing there? What did you do to her?” One question at a time would have been better, but I couldn’t hold them in.
The corners of Leon’s mouth twitched at the urgency in my voice. He knew me too well to conceal how I was feeling; the fear, the curiosity, the grief that threatened to swallow me whole.
“I was there to take your grandmother to heaven.” His words hung in the air between us as he stopped right before me, leaning down a bit, the way he had over Gran’s bed when I had entered the room this morning. Reflexively, I shrank back, unsure if he was planning to do the same to me, ridiculous as it may sound.
“Heaven,” I prompted, hearing the mockery in my own voice. If there were such a thing as heaven—
“Yes, heaven,” Leon said, leaning closer until he was bracing his hands on either side of my legs on the bed. His eyes were the Italian roast type of intense once more, making my breath catch—not just from fear. But there was something more to Leon than I had noticed until now. Something dangerous, something incomprehensible, something divine… “And you, Laney, saw me.” He was close now. So close that I could feel his breath on my face. “You weren’t supposed to, and yet, you saw me. And you saw her.” He didn’t move as I wriggled out from between his braced arms, putting the entire bed between us before I dared look at him again. There was no reason for denying it. We both knew it was true.
For a moment, he appeared like he was going to leap across the covers and attack me, harm me, do something to silence me. Only … he didn’t. He remained where he was, his eyes on mine … and they softened.
“I didn’t think it would ever happen,” he whispered and finally sank to his haunches, his arms resting on the bed.
“What would ever happen?” I asked, the changed expression on his face making him look more like my friend than ever, and yet … different. There was a hint of frustration pinching his brows, and his smile was only half the standard I was used to from my Leon.
I loosed a breath as I studied him, the boy I had grown up with, and not. The creature who had taken my grandmother to heaven—if I could believe him. But … what reason was there not to? I had seen him when he was invisible to my mother. I had seen Gran’s soul. I had seen it tighten into a star and wander into his mouth. I had seen him vanish. The only gap was what had happened after. Had he truly taken her to heaven? Did heaven really exist?
With shaky fingers, I pulled myself up, crawling a bit closer to him on the bed just to be able to look into his eyes. “Who are you, Leon Milliari?” It was the only question left to ask. “And no evasions,” I added. “The truth.”
Chapter Ten
Leon rested his forehead on his arms and sighed, making me wonder if he was going to evade my question or if he was simply summoning the right words to his lips.
“I’m a Lightbringer, Laney.” He lifted his head as he spoke, not allowing any emotion into his voice, any hope that I would understand—or accept—what he was saying.
I wondered how long I could play with the end of my braid until it would become obvious I had no clue what he was talking about. Judging by the way his features tightened, he already knew and was waiting for me to demand more information. That was so much the Leon I knew that it was almost a reason to smile—always careful, patient, waiting for me to be ready. He had not once pushed for me to take him to visit Gran. And now that I had seen him depart with her soul contained within him, I wondered, if that was the reason why. If he had known that one day—I could hardly think the words—he would be the one to be there when she died.
“What is that?” I asked, unable to bring myself to fake enthusiasm. I didn’t want to know, really—and yet, I did. Because it was crucial to know what had happened to Gran. Where her soul had gone. Or I would go crazy at some point, imagining her somewhere in the wind, in the sky, in the stream behind the forest. It couldn’t happen. I couldn’t turn any crazier than I already was. I had seen the dead, for God’s sake. I had seen them a year ago and again today. Only, today, I had seen Leon with new eyes, too.
He sighed, resorting to sitting on the edge of the bed again, leaving a good distance between us; hardly enough to avoid him if I intended to. I didn’t.
“I am a messenger angel, a collector of souls, a deliverer of the pure to the bright side of afterlife.” Leon held my gaze, his eyes pained with my long silence as I stared at him, trying to see it. Searching for something that gave away he was telling the truth, that it wasn’t all a bad dream.
“Angels don’t exist,” I breathed, my gaze darting to his broad shoulders where I was expecting some sort of wings to emerge … and found only his plain white shirt making a nice contrast with his golden tan neck.
“Are you sure?” was all he said and slid a bit closer, bringing one knee up on the bed and angling his body sideways as if to willingly expose his back a bit more.
I leaned forward, curious, now that he offered the view … but there was nothing indicating wings in the slightest.
“I can take off my shirt,” he suggested, and it was only then that I noticed there was dry humor in his words.
“There are no wings,” I concluded. And he shook his head, lips twitching a bit despite the still pained look in his eyes.
“No wings, but I am one of them, nonetheless.” He laced his fingers together in his lap. “With or without wings.”
“And you take souls to heaven,” I repeated what he had said about Gran.
Leon nodded, a muscle feathering in his jaw as he studied my face, my eyes, my clasped-together hands. “That’s all I do with them.” He took a deep breath as if bracing himself for what he was going to say. “I arrive when their mortal shells die and collect them to carry them to safety.”
He gave me a look that wasn’t that of the Leon I knew but of some mythical creature who wasn’t supposed to exist … who knew that they weren’t supposed to exist. At least, not in my rational world where life functioned because of the laws of physics and the rules that applied to everyone.
“I am still the same Leon,” he said, holding one hand out to me as if he were going to touch me, but he dropped it between us on the blanket as I shook my head.
“You’re not,” I whispered, averting my gaze from those eyes that belong to the one who had helped me through so many days when I hadn’t had the strength to do it on my own, from his hand which had innocently held mine over and over again until…
Until I had walked into Gran’s room and found him there. Him and the other boy.
“Was the other one a Lightbringer, too?” It was hard to pronounce the word without letting my lips twist with the turmoil of emotions that welled in my chest.
Leon shifted, one hand running through his hair as he thought about how to answer.
“Was he?” I prompted.
He eyed me as if I was going to break if he told me one more thing.
Maybe he was right.
He shook his head, and for a moment, I thought he believed he was going to get away with that tiny response. But then, he pursed his lips and nodded to himself. “He is the exact opposite of what I am.”
Great. Another riddle. I frowned at the angel—it hurt my head to think about it.
“He takes them to hell.” Leon rushed out the words as if hoping I wouldn’t catch them if he only spoke fast enough.
But I heard him very well. “Hell?” A hysterical giggle escaped my lips. “You are trying to tell me that hell actually exists?”
He gave me a look that apparently was supposed to be answer enough.
“Hell, Leon. Seriously. Heaven and Hell.”
He kept staring … until the giggle ebbed … and I realized that he was dead serious. That what he had told me was a secret, not a joke. It was a plain truth that I should have acknowledged the day I had seen the dead rise from the mangled cars. And I had never given it a thought. I had never taken a moment to let myself consider what it meant, what happened to us when we died.
“He is a Shadowbringer.”
The storm-gray gaze, the amused smirk, the pale face of the other boy flashed through my mind at Leon’s words. The way he had leaned against the wall at the nursing home, how he had stared from between the aisles at Santoni’s. The shadows that had veiled the air before he had turned up there.
“A Shadowbringer,” I repeated, letting the word settle.
“Shadowbringers take souls to the eternal shadows of hell while Lightbringers take them to heaven.” Leon seemed pleased that I hadn’t run screaming from the room—or kicked him out.
I was honestly considering it as my mind threatened to explode, but Leon’s gaze held me in place.
Torn: A young adult paranormal romance (Breath of Fate Book 1) Page 5