CHAPTER 24: DIVINE LIBRARY
The cold night air ripped through my lungs, each breath burning. The moon lit the vicinity with a silver radiance. It would have been a scene of beauty if it weren’t for the smoke that rose from the smothered flames. Shadows lay scattered across the grassy hillside like large lumps of coal. As my eyes moved over the still body of Abelie, there was no preparation for what I would see. In those seconds, I fiercely accumulated more reasons to hate Jeff Vittorio—to swear revenge. I glanced away, unable to look at her any longer. Ehno was assessing Lucia’s wounds. She must be okay because she sat up without any help. The two whispered softly to each other, and for the first time I saw the love and tenderness as Ehno’s fingers trekked across her cheek.
“Gabriella?” a voice breathed delicately.
Everything seemed to be in slow motion, even when I spun around to see Andrew’s electric blue eyes. It was as if his soul burned through the indigo, showing his concern, love, and devotion. His arms outstretched, almost as if he didn’t know what to expect from me. A powerful force pulled me toward him. His palms cupped my face as his thumbs rubbed away the onslaught of my tears.
“Shh,” he whispered and put his lips to my forehead. I melted like an ice cube on the hottest day of summer. Andrew caught me in his arms and held me firmly against his chest.
“Your eyes are blue,” I stated numbly.
“When an angel feels an extreme emotion, it’s shown by the color of the eye.”
“Oh.”
All of my rage and fury vanished when I was in his arms, and the only thing left was my mother. She was dead. Gone. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t. It was only moments—just a handful a minutes—that I had with my mother and now she was . . . lifeless. The quiet scene was disrupted by Aiden’s piercing cries, the sound like a sorrowful requiem. Each shuddering breath he took in was echoed by the surrounding angels. I turned to look at Abelie, and once again, I jerked my head away from the limp form on the ground with Aiden kneeling beside her, not willing to comprehend her end.
They should’ve let me go. This was entirely my fault.
A Shadow moved in the moonlight, and the same wrath and anger boiled up to the surface. I pushed my way free of Andrew’s arms and walked toward the moving form. My breathing hitched, and my chest moved up and down faster and faster. In the back of my head, I noted that no one stopped me from moving forward. Fire burst from the Shadow’s clenched fists as he started to get to his feet. The moon cast an odd shadow over the creature as I positioned myself over him.
“Stay down,” I ordered with a flick of my finger. Rage boiled in my voice, and my tone was that of cold fury.
The Shadow fell instantly back to the ground. Italian words weren’t necessary, electricity wasn’t required, I just possessed the power. I pivoted to see the stunned looks on several faces. The eyes of the angels were all a liquid blue; even Lucia’s eyes were more like sapphires than the shallowest of oceans I was used to.
“They won’t stay like this forever,” I conveyed.
Lucia was on her feet, and her posture exhibited the substantial beating she had received. Aiden brought Abelie into his arms and cradled her like she was a newborn child. Joseph was covered in soot; his once pristine suit wrinkled and dirty. Again, I noted how well he accepted his circumstances. Or maybe he was just as frightened as I was.
Andrew approached me with his hand outstretched. “I think it’s time we leave.” He gestured behind me with a small nod of his head where several Shadows reoriented themselves.
My hand stretched straight out in front of me as I turned to point at the lumps of charcoal, my eyes fixed threateningly upon them. “Down,” I ordered. “Freeze.” A couple of them dropped back down, one Shadow froze in place. But it wasn’t enough. There were too many of them moving, and soon we would be overwhelmed. My head whipped around to find Andrew only inches away, and his expression was a harsh mixture of grief, awe, and disbelief.
“It’s time to go,” he repeated. He outstretched his hand again, and I grasped it. The electric current flowed where we were connected.
Several Shadows rose from their fallen states, and the darkened grounds began to light with their fire. We ran. Aiden was ahead of us, Abelie’s head bouncing from side to side against his arms. A sharp pain rose in my throat at the sight. It made me sick, but I couldn’t look away. Each second, each breath, each excruciating emotion threatened to overwhelm me, but I knew I had to keep going. We had to get away before we were out numbered again. Joseph followed in our wake as Ehno and Lucia brought up the rear, chanting in their liquid Italian.
“We can find shelter in the Divine Library,” Andrew shouted to Aiden. “We can devise a plan once we’re safely inside.”
Aiden made no noise as he lengthened his strides. He was amazingly fast considering the fact he carried Abelie. My mom. She was the one person who had continuously saved my life when I could not save myself. From before I was born, all the way up to this day. All she did was make sacrifices for me, even when it broke her heart to give me away.
As the wind whipped behind me in our wake—the Shadows only yards behind us—the only thing I could focus on was my heart and how it had shattered into a million little pieces. The saying “life isn’t fair” was more accurate than I would have ever imagined. The rush of anger and revenge left me.
As we approached a rocky precipice, a worn path in the stone became clear. My dream-memory flooded back—a time when my mom was still alive. The worn, uneven steps were familiar, and I knew, even from the faint memory, that this would lead us to the Divine Library’s door. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the two keys, preparing to unlock the door. Suddenly, I remembered that I didn’t have the second key. You had to have two keys to enter the Divine Library. Andrew had told me he didn’t know what my other key went to, but that only one of them would open the door here. I felt panicked. It was easy to pick up my pace until I passed Aiden. Maybe we could just break the door down, but there was no way it would be that simple.
“Hurry,” I yelled as we ran up the stone steps. I led the way with Andrew on my heels. Joseph lagged behind. As we reached the top, I spun around so I could see what was happening behind us. The dark night had twisted into an inferno as the Shadows ignited. Aiden held Abelie in his arms, her body limp in his grasp. Joseph ran to keep up as Lucia and Ehno brought up the rear, running backwards as they cast spell after spell, trying to prevent the Shadows from getting anywhere near us.
I jammed my key in the lock, hoping it would work. It didn’t. “We need the other key,” I cried out when my single key didn’t do the trick.
“It’s in Abelie’s pocket,” Aiden said, his voice rough with grief.
I just couldn’t fathom putting my hand in her robes, not while her body was limp and lifeless in my father’s arms. Andrew could see the look of angst on my face—the tortured expression must have been clear as glass. He gently reached into her white robes and pulled out a key identical to the one in my palm. At the same time, we put the keys in the locks, turned them, and shoved the door open. It ground against the stone floor as we pushed our way through.
Andrew whispered under his breath, and all the lights sprang to life. Every corner, every wall, from floor to ceiling, was covered with shelves of books or artifacts. It was amazing, with tall ceilings and towering bookcases, just like I had remembered in my dream. Any open space on the stone walls was covered in frescos. Andrew yanked me out of the way when I paused in the doorway and pointed toward a table for Aiden to place Abelie. I looked away as Aiden pulled a drawer out and placed a silken cloth over her body. Joseph tripped up the steps, his breath heavy as he entered the library before he practically fell to the floor.
I bent down to him. “Joseph? You okay?”
He coughed and pushed himself off the ground. “Yeah.” He looked at me funny. “You’re one powerful woman,” he coughed out before he walked past me, a mingled expression of terror and awe on his face.
&n
bsp; I stared out the doorway and wondered where Lucia and Ehno had gone. When I looked down the stone steps I could see them battling with the multitude of Shadows. Lucia, even with a slight limp, held her own. Without thinking, I left the safety of the library and stood on the top step. Andrew followed behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist, preparing to pull me back inside. I looked over my shoulder.
“I’ll be fine.” That was a lie.
He raised an eyebrow in disbelief, easily able to see through me. The look on my face was probably not believable—I couldn’t gather the strength necessary to put up pretenses.
“Watch,” I said.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall back as I inhaled several steadying breaths. It was odd, this new feeling that grew inside me. It was powerful, and I could control it. Electricity flared between my fingers and crackled.
“Ehno? Lucia? Duck,” I shouted. And they did. I pointed toward the stairs below them. Electricity exploded from my fingertips, and the stairs crumbled away as lightning bolts collided with the stone. The Shadows fell fifteen feet to the rocky hill below.
Ehno helped Lucia up the stairs, and Andrew grasped my hips and pulled me inside. Once Ehno and Lucia were safe, we pushed the door closed and entered our keys to lock it from the inside. I placed my hand upon the door.
“Seal.” Sparks lit at all the seams until there was no door there.
“How?”
I put a hand up to stop Andrew. “I’m not sure, I just know I can.”
He didn’t respond, either he was speechless or had nothing to say. Though something amazing was happening to me, I had no room in my head for those thoughts.
My knees went out on me, and my back hit the solid wall as I slid to the floor. I folded my arms and put my head down to try and create a small amount of privacy for my anguish. My heart swelled with agony so forceful, so jagged, so real, I didn’t know if I could move without crumbling to pieces. My sobs were violent, and I choked on the air—air Abelie would never breathe again. My mind raced around as I looked desperately for some loophole where she would live, come back. But as I replayed the scene in my head over and over, the fire wrapping around her neck, her lifeless body, Aiden’s golden tears, I knew she was gone. In that instant it swept over me—the awful truth—more completely and undeniably: my mother was dead.
It was a brutal end to what should have been a new and lasting relationship with my mom. And it was just taken away with such disgusting ease.
The room was full of quiet despair. You could feel the emotions thick in the cool air.
Karen’s story of how they became immortals flashed through my mind. “We were called Senza Tempo. Translated, it means timeless.” No matter what their ancient name might be, it was today I found out immortality didn’t always mean forever.
Words wouldn’t form and tears wouldn’t even flow anymore. The restraint I used to keep myself together was painful. My shoulders shook with my dry, hushed sobs. Even though Andrew remained quiet, I knew he was beside me, silently soothing me. Still, I kept my face hidden in my own personal torture. As the minutes passed, possibly hours, no one bothered me. I didn’t blame them. What kind of words of comfort could they offer?
There were the soft sounds of muted conversations around me, sort of like a fly buzzing around my ear.
“So it’s really you?” Andrew asked, not concealing his voice. “Aiden? The Aiden?”
I didn’t look up. I only listened to their conversation in the echoing of the large room. The room I should be immersing myself in right now, with all its treasures. The same room I should be enjoying with my mother.
“Of course,” Aiden replied, his voice rough with sadness. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I’m sorry,” Andrew barely whispered beside me. He reached up under my folded arms to hold my fingers. He didn’t try to pull my arms apart; he only held my hand. Andrew continued, “Do you remember me?”
“No. Should I?” Aiden sounded confused.
“Maybe you aren’t the Aiden I’m thinking of,” Andrew mumbled. “But if you are, you were an angel, part of the Halo of the Sun. We were friends. You were Abelie’s husband before.” There was a long pause. When Aiden didn’t answer, Andrew continued, “How did you end up as a . . . a Shadow?”
“I . . .” Aiden paused. “I’ve always been a Shadow.” His voice sounded really confused now. “Maybe I’m not this Aiden that you think I am?”
Andrew’s hand disappeared, and he rose to his feet. “That’s not true. You were an angel. I remember you and Abelie. We were very close friends.” I could hear soft footsteps pace back and forth. “You’re wearing the Guardian’s symbol right now, aren’t you? Let me see what’s on that chain under your robes.”
Curious, I finally looked up to see Aiden pull a necklace from his shirt. “This is the Nebulous Sun.” And it was—the same shield in the middle of a halo. The only reason I knew it really wasn’t was because Andrew had told me differently.
“No,” Ehno and Andrew both said at the same time.
“I’ve been wearing it for as long as I can remember. This is the Shadow’s symbol. Those who wear it are cursed,” Aiden disagreed.
Ehno pulled up the sleeve to his white scrubs he still wore to show the same symbol tattooed on his shoulder. “We’re both telling you it’s not the Nebulous Sun. It’s the Halo of the Sun symbol—the Guardian’s symbol. Those who wear it are protectors of mankind, not the other way around.”
Aiden’s eyebrows knitted together, the powdery black color of his skin cracking as he did. “I want you to be right, but I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t a Shadow.” A golden tear leaked from his eye. “Abelie would have loved to have made our relationship public.” His voice constricted under a choked sob.
Tears leaked from my eyes again as a new shuddering sob hit me. Andrew turned around and saw my face, his eyes still a luminous blue. He leaned down to my level and placed a simple kiss on my lips.
“Words cannot express how heart-wrenching these circumstances are. Please, let me comfort you,” he breathed in my ear. Another sob jerked my body, and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he pulled me off the ground and just held me to him. And that was all I could ask for.
My mind wanted desperately to think about something else to preoccupy my emotions. The fact that we were in the Divine Library reminded me of the prophecy Abelie read in my dream, and I seized gratefully onto the new subject. After raking in my emotions, I whispered against Andrew’s ear, “The real prophecy is in here somewhere. I want to read it.”
“Already found it,” Lucia piped in. She looked like she had recovered from her wounds already. I’d never recover from my emotional ones.
As sat around the table, the book of prophecies opened before us, no one wanted to read the words that would dictate my fate. Did it talk about my mother’s death? Did it talk about mine? Was there a secret in there that would be devastating? Would I learn who my enemies were or who the backstabbers would turn out to be? The pages, yellowed with age, the sides softened with use—this was all about my life. Here in these pages was my past, present, and future. Did I really want to know those things? For the first time in my life I was going to decline reading a book.
On a desk, only three tables away, lay Abelie’s body, covered with a soft silken drape. It was less than half a day ago that I was dreaming about that table, the same one my parents were about to make love on. Probably the same one that the Ladies of Light occupied when my parents overheard their conversation. And maybe it was that exact chair that was pulled up underneath the desk that Karen had sat in when she was introduced as the assassin—the Soul Stalker. My heart was incredibly cold, and my limbs were numb.
“I’ll read it.” Aiden’s charcoal fingers traced the cover of the book. “You are my daughter, Gabriella, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. No matter what this book says.”
“Go on, Dad.” I hoped my smile came out righ
t. It felt different, yet it was right to call him Dad.
Aiden’s lips twitched up into a sad smile in return as he placed his blackened hand over mine. The touch was full of peaceful serenity, and I appreciated his warm embrace. He cleared his throat before he opened the book and read. “A battle will be waged. Great heroes will be lost. But they will survive in another form—one of darkness and shadow. But blood does not hold the key to light and dark, only our souls hold that power, as the Darkness Illuminator will prove.
“During the darkest time for all angels, the Illuminator will be born during the lightest day of the year when the Ladies of Light will kill one of their own.”
“Who did they kill?” I interrupted. My voice was thick with my anguish. Why did so many have to die?
Aiden had a confused expression on his face. “Camellia, one of the Ladies of Light, was killed by a Shadow—or so they said—but I’ve never heard of a Shadow defeating someone so powerful. The only immortal that could have done it was . . .” Aiden trailed off, knowing I’d understand the rest of the sentence.
“Do you mind?” Andrew asked and pointed toward the book.
“Of course not,” Aiden conceded.
Andrew slid the book forward and continued to read for us. “The Illuminator’s mother will be of the Light of Heaven”—I glanced over my shoulder to the still form on the table—“and her father will be a Shadow of the Sun. Angel guards and Shadow barriers will not hold her back, as she will have access to both sides of the realm. Until the Shadows approach, protect her above all others, even from our kind.
“As three among you perish to the Earth—bound by shadow and fire—do not be fooled by the warnings given to incite terror and mayhem. Those three who fought against the growing power will be laid to rest until the time comes—the time of light.
“Beware of encroaching danger, as the Illuminator will be surrounded, but she is not thy enemy. As the dark ones approach, the Illuminator should be set free, uninhibited by all Guardians. She will show us all who the enemies are and how to defeat them.
“When the time comes to battle, our Illuminator will come to save us all. Worlds change, lives transition, and everything will be turned upside down. Warriors are found. The fog lifted. The Halo of the Sun will keep her safe, and the time of the Illuminator will come. She will rule us all.”
Silence. It was as if we had all been struck dumb.
Andrew turned a page, then another. “The rest is blank, like someone erased it.”
The words opened up a whole new vista of thoughts. My mind churned as images clicked together in my head. So there will be a battle—or there was a battle . . . “Do not be fooled by the warnings given to incite terror and mayhem,” I repeated in my head. I took in a deep breath.
“Tell me about the angel hierarchy, Andrew.” I felt like the answer to this whole mystery—the Halo of the Sun disappearing, the Shadow of the Sun producing someone not so evil—Aiden—was just seconds from being answered.
“Some of this we’ve already discussed,” Andrew began. “Angels were never ‘ruled over,’ per se, they were governed in a whole different way than a ruling class. Angels are usually ranked by strength and gifts. The Ladies of Light, which consisted of the three strongest immortal women, were angelic protectors. They kept the immortals safe from those who wished to destroy us. As I’ve told you before, they come in cycles every hundred years.”
I nodded in understanding. “Why the tattoos?”
“They are proud of their title. They also show their path.”
“Wait.” I turned toward Lucia. “Were you once a Lady of Light?” Her tattoos were beautifully woven across every inch of her skin in intricate patterns and symbols.
“I was,” Lucia admitted. “But, of course, since my death my cycle has been up. Usually, one would go through a ceremony where her tattoos would be removed. The Ladies of Light I was awakened with are still in power, even after three hundred years.”
“But who would have the strength to bind you for hundreds of years?” I inquired.
She was silent then, her eyes darting from Andrew to Ehno. “That’s . . .” She paused. “Well, that’s a good question. It would have to be a Lady of Light or a whole army.”
“It was,” I informed her, surprising myself. She looked taken aback. I continued, “In one of my dream-memories you were stabbed by a Lady of Light while the other stood by and watched. In the foreground was an army.”
Lucia’s eyes widened.
I pressed on. “Your blood was red. And the women—they were the same ones who attacked us outside the underground lab.”
Again, silence. When no one spoke, I knew I had to say something to pick up the gathering muteness, but no words would form.
“It can’t be,” Lucia barely whispered. “But then again. . . .”
“They did,” I stated.
The three angels looked back and forth between each other. Aiden and Joseph sat silently, absorbing the information.
“Andrew?” I interrupted their staring. “Keep going. The hierarchy?”
“Oh, yes.” His blue eyes shot to mine. “The Halo of the Sun consists of many angels, all male. They rule over the Guardian angels—also all male unless a situation requires a female. In your case I thought Karen was your Guardian angel because she was stronger than any of the male Guardians. Though Halos are not as strong as the Ladies of Light, they are still powerful and skilled in combat. They are—were the protectors of mankind. Humans worthy of saving are assigned a Guardian Angel. Sometimes it is just for a day, but can last up to the lifetime of a human, which is rare.”
“But from everything we know, the Halo of the Sun is no more?” I wondered aloud.
“Never heard of them,” Aiden responded first.
“That’s strange.” Ehno shook his head back and forth.
“Continue,” I prompted Andrew.
“Then there is the Prophetess, Zola. She warns the Ladies of Light of danger to the immortals and gives the Halo of the Sun assignments for those who need a Guardian Angel.”
“So,” I interrupted again, “Zola, the Ladies of Light, and the Halo of the Sun are all equal in the angel world?”
“For the most part, but women usually have stronger magic,” Andrew clarified. “The Elders rank below them. They’re protectors of knowledge. Abelie,” Andrew barely whispered, “was an Elder. She was the librarian I told you I knew when we were in Boise City.”
I looked down at the table.
“I’m sorry,” Andrew said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I glanced up. He looked worried. I scanned the table to see everyone staring at me with pity. Joseph’s face was a mixture of sorrow, confusion, and extreme discomfort.
“No. It’s okay. Please, continue,” I insisted.
Andrew stared at me for a few seconds but must have read the determination on my face because he continued. “The Elders consist of historians, librarians, teachers, or an angel with any kind of hobby or job that pertains to gaining or protecting knowledge. Then there are the immortals. They are the lowest in the hierarchy, but are still respected—the working class, if you will. Sometimes you can have many titles. I’m part of the Halo of the Sun, but I can also be called as a Guardian Angel.”
There was something in my brain telling me the answer was just on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t grasp it. I was exhausted, sore, and my heart was beating funny. Then I realized that if I slept I would see my mom again—I’d be her. When I didn’t say anything for several minutes, Andrew grasped my hand.
I jumped. I looked back down at the table. “I miss her,” I barely mumbled, not caring if they all heard.
“Oh, sweet Gabriella. I . . .” Andrew trailed off, shaking his head. The other angels shared uneasy looks. They could probably handle grief better than I could.
The ache in my chest pulsed like an open wound. “It feels like a piece of my heart has been ripped from me—leaving me foreve
r.”
Aiden choked on a sob, and Andrew’s chest moved up and down slowly, taking in a deep breath. “Come on,” said Andrew finally and held out his hand.
I grasped it, and he pulled me to my feet. “She needs sleep,” he announced to everyone sitting at the table.
As we passed my father, I reached down and encased him in my arms. “I’m so sorry,” I barely whispered. He returned the hug and nodded his head sadly.
Andrew and I walked through several rows of books without looking back until we came across a staircase. In silence, we ascended the steps. We passed a few floors before we reached the top of the library—the fifth floor. His hand was so warm and comforting, and I didn’t think I could ever let go. We stayed silent as we passed shelf after shelf and bookcase after bookcase. Finally, we came to a dark wooden door engraved with more symbols, most of them I didn’t recognize. He put his hand on the doorknob but didn’t turn it. He took in a deep breath, conveying sympathy just by the expression on his face, and turned the handle.
Inside the small room were a vanity, a small bed, and a tiny closet. “This”—Andrew gestured with his hand—“was Abelie’s room when she worked in the library.”
I was instantly absorbed by the scene around me. Her hairbrush sat on the vanity alongside a cold cup of tea, the spoon still inside. She’ll never have tea again or stare at her reflection in the mirror. It was like she was sitting here only yesterday, and now . . . she’d never sit in that chair again, or sleep in that bed, or have dreams or thoughts. My fingers traced her belongings, desperately needing to touch everything that had to do with her. And for those several precious moments, the whole world centered on her and nothing else existed.
“Wear this,” Andrew said, bringing me from my thoughts. He held up a white robe. “Your clothes are a mess, and I know your mom wouldn’t mind if you—”
I snatched it out of his hand so swiftly he didn’t have time to finish his sentence. “Thank you.” I hugged the piece of clothing to my chest, as if he had given me the best present in the whole world. I breathed in the scent of roses. I stepped on my tiptoes and gave Andrew a small kiss on his cheek.
He half smiled. “I’ll let you change.” He hesitated for a second before leaving and shutting the door behind him.
I stood there and stared at the door. The room was quiet, so silent that it was deafening. I yanked my clothes off and threw the robe on, wanting Andrew back in there with me. It wasn’t a good time to be alone—I needed his comforting hand in mine. In the mirror, my reflection stared back at me. There were dried golden tears on my cheeks and large, dark circles under my eyes. The robe fit perfectly and fell just above my knees. The fabric was silk-like and smooth against my skin. And it was hers.
As I made my way to the door, I noticed photos on the wall and quickly strode toward the far wall. There was a picture of my mother and me when I was only a child. When I was younger I had blonde curls, which later turned brown, but in this picture they were still platinum blonde. My fingers traced her face repeatedly. When I looked at the next few pictures, I was really surprised. It was after my mother had turned me human. There were pictures obviously taken from afar that were of me during a baseball game, singing during a choir recital, and one of me riding my bike on the streets outside our house in Ohio. I didn’t think I could look at them anymore.
I dashed across the room and almost pulled the door off its hinges with my urgency to be comforted. There was no one there. For a whole second I thought I would collapse from the emptiness, inside myself and outside the room.
“Andrew?” I called out, panicked.
“I’m right here.” He moved from underneath a shadow. His voice was the most angelic, most welcoming sound I had ever heard in my entire life. I leaned against the doorframe, wilted.
He moved closer, and his finger traced under my eye. “It’s time you slept.”
I nodded in agreement, and he led me back inside the room. There was a soft click of the door as it shut, and in that second I felt some relief at being able to hide from the world outside. At least for tonight. He pulled the covers back from the bed and gestured for me to lie down. When I perched myself on the edge, Abelie’s scent wafted around my nose. I didn’t know if I could handle being alone. Not tonight and not here. I needed Andrew’s comfort. He stared down at me, his blue eyes searching my face.
“Will you stay with me?” I breathed.
He let out a breath, one I didn’t know he was holding. “Of course I will.”
He took off his shoes and shirt. The image of him was the same but still breathtaking. I scooted across the bed and sat with my knees against my chest. He perched beside me, put his arm around me, and pulled me down onto the bed, holding me there. I clung to him because I knew this night would be the most difficult night of my life. Andrew murmured something in Italian, and the lights went out.
His chin was on top of my forehead, and my head was in the crook of his neck. He was warm and soothed me just by holding me. His palm was on my cheek while his thumb rubbed comforting circles on my face. I listened as his heart beat steadily in his chest, the one thing Abelie would never have again. She had left this world—she had left me.
“Why?” The word was almost inaudible.
“Why what, sweetheart?” Andrew murmured.
The sobs were back, and my body shook with my overwhelming feelings of loss. “I just don’t understand . . . Why? She was immortal and now she’s . . . not. And I just don’t know how that can be, why that is. It’s stupid and doesn’t make sense, and I just can’t . . . I just don’t . . . It just doesn’t make any sense and I— I.” Each second I choked on my words, and my grief threatened to overpower me. My tears came at an alarming rate. The words were incoherent and blubbering, but I couldn’t stop them for fear that I’d lose any sanity I had left. “She was my mom, and those Shadows took her away from me. And now she can’t get back into her body . . . I can’t accept that, I can’t register the fact that she’ll no longer breathe or talk in her sweet voice or hold me. I only had minutes, mere seconds with her, and then she was taken away. It isn’t fair, it just isn’t and—”
“I know,” Andrew breathed.
There was silence between us for a second.
“It’s not. It really isn’t. Shh. I’ll hold you all night; I’ll be here with you. I’ll take care of you,” Andrew’s voice whispered in my ear. His thumb wiped away the tears that covered my face. I was glad he had the impulse to comfort me because I needed it now more than ever. “Close your eyes. Dream about your mother.”
I obeyed and closed my eyes, begging sleep to take me. As I lay there, I knew I was still shaking and whimpering, but I wasn’t embarrassed. It was necessary. My world had crumbled all around me in the last forty-eight hours, and now all I could do was try to pick up the pieces. But not tonight. Not while each second brought on another round of earth-shattering thoughts and images. I was nearly at the end of my emotional rope, and I didn’t know how I could have made it without Andrew there, holding me.
Somehow I slept, and my mother’s worst moments flowed into my mind.
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