by Abra Ebner
I felt my body tingle from the angered remark. “From…” I wanted to say it. I had to, but I settled for a vague answer instead. “From danger.”
I saw that she wasn’t pleased by my attempt to explain. Her body shifted restlessly, and I feared she was about to leave. “And you’re immortal?” The word sounded bitter. “Is that what you were trying to tell me the other night when you said you didn’t age?” Her body fell still as she twisted the ring on her finger.
“I am—to a degree.” I answered truthfully, knowing it was the only thing that would make her stay.
“And you’re like my sister? You know what I’m thinking?” She was stumbling over her words, finding it hard to admit.
“In a way. But as I said the other night, your sister’s gifts were hereditary. She is a clairvoyant by blood. My gifts were… earned. They’re meant for a purely protective cause.”
We sat for a moment, the only sound coming from a car in the nearby parking lot.
Jane’s gaze avoided mine, though mine did nothing but watch her. “But, then what are you?”
I knew she was as afraid to ask as I was to tell. She had asked me twice the other night, but I’d refused to give her a straight answer. I knew if I was going to set things right, though, I had to tell her the truth—I had to tell her now.
“You must have some sort of title. My sister is clairvoyant, Wes is a shifter. What are you?”
There it was again. Four. She had asked four times now. I bit my lip, hearing the title repeat in my head. “I…” I placed my hands flush on the wood of the table, again starting from the beginning. “That night, in the burning library…” I paused, seeing my mother and fathers faces as though it was yesterday. I saw them through the flames, too far from me to save them. They were reaching for me, my brother Erik at my side, shielded in my arms as the flames tickled across my back.
I shook away the image. “I protected Greg as we grew up, but he was always jealous of me. I know now that he was sick in a way none of us could understand. My mother always thought she could cure him by showing him as much love, if not more love than anyone, but he was deluded. It was never enough for him. Greg was convinced that we hated him.” I was wasting time.
I saw the burning room again. “That night, in the library, we all died except Erik. I wasn’t ready to die, though. I wasn’t ready to give up on my life, or the life of my little brother. I managed to throw him from the window just moments before the fire choked me out, but somewhere along my way to the ever-after, I decided to stay behind. I’d given my life for Erik, and that was the thing that bound me to Sheol, just as murder bound Greg. It is a blessing and a curse.”
I felt emotion I hadn’t felt in a long time begin to tickle my nose, but it quickly died. I felt Jane yield, allowing me time to form my words.
“It was an angel that saved my brother’s life…” I paused, knowing that that angel was me. I didn’t want to look at her, afraid my eyes would give away my secret before my words could.
“Max…” Her voice was soft and alluring. She was trying to get me to look at her, so I did. Her lashes were thick, her face creased ever so delicately around her eyes. I could feel her breath as it blew across the table and landed upon my face.
I sat tall, no longer afraid of the truth my eyes told.
“I believe in angels because I am one, Jane.” The words were almost palpable as they left my mouth. I could taste the certainty of it, the longing I’d felt to tell someone other than my brother.
She stared into my eyes, hers so big now, that I saw myself in them. “You’re lying,” she accused, but her voice wasn’t at all irritated.
I bit my lip. “I wish I were, Jane. I never wanted this.” I felt weak for the first time in decades, my limbs disconnected from my body. I suddenly saw that the only thing I wanted was her approval, as though that would change my circumstances.
“And that is why you’re immortal, because you’re—”
“Dead?” I looked up at her sheepishly. “Well, at least dead in some form. I can’t go to wherever it is we go when we die because I passed up the chance long ago, but I can’t really be here in the normal sense, either. I have unfinished business. I’m stuck.”
I could tell she was having a hard time believing me, and I wish that for a moment, I could take the ring back and hear her thoughts. She remained silent, so I filled the gap with further explanation.
“Jane, there are a band of beings out there that don’t want magick around, like I explained the other night. They call themselves the Black Angels. Some of them are like you, some are human, and some are something entirely different, like me or Wes. They are a renegade cult of sorts, and they answer to a false god—the devil.”
She was interested in what I had to say now, and I could feel the frustration in her begin to fade. “So then the Black Angels aren’t really angels.” She said it as a fact.
I tilted my head and lowered my eyes. “Well, some aren’t, some are.”
“Are you telling me this because you’re a Black Angel?” Her spine was noticeably steeled. She was likely wondering if that was why her sister felt so fearful toward me—wondering if that’s what Emily had seen inside my head. She made a move as though to get up and leave.
I was quick to grab her hand across the table. She froze. “No, Jane. I would never go to that side.” My words were stern and my grip hard. “Like I said, Jane, I would never hurt you. I have to protect you.”
She tried to jerk her arm away, but I was stronger than her. “You don’t need to protect me.” She hissed. “I don’t need—”
“Please,” My voice was begging. I didn’t want to hear her say that she didn’t need me. “Don’t say that, Jane.” I let go of her hand, releasing her as my ability to read past the wall in her head also released.
“Say what?” She coiled her hand into herself.
“Please, Jane. Don’t say what you were going to say, just—you have no idea what those words can mean.”
She was looking at me with pity, but also anger about the fact that I knew what she had been thinking. Her hands dropped to her sides. “Why?” she pleaded.
I couldn’t look at her as I whispered, “I once broke the rules and saved a soul, Jane, and I think you know whose.”
I looked up, meeting her eyes in time to see a tear fall.
“Jane,” I continued. “I’m your angel.”
Emily:
Wes dragged me back inside the cafeteria where I slunk away from him. “What was that?” I snapped bitterly.
He turned to me, a twisted look on his face. “What was what?”
Wes was acting as though he didn’t know what I was talking about, but he couldn’t hide it from me. I’d heard the whispers of his thoughts and the jealous beat of his heart.
“I had to confront Jane about this,” he went on, clearly trying to cover for the fact that he was jealous of Max—that he still felt something for Jane. Wes was just trying to avoid the obvious, something that wasn’t going to work on me.
“No!” I screamed. I bit my tongue, looking around the room and noticing that people were now staring. Who cares, I thought. Let them stare. I lowered my voice “No, Wes. I meant, what was that with her? All those thoughts you just had? You still have feelings for Jane, don’t you?”
Wes paused, and I knew all I needed in that moment of hesitation.
“You do,” I accused. I crossed my arms against my chest, feeling like an idiot for opening my heart to him.
He reached for me but I backed away, shaking my head. Tears stung my eyes, the doubt that was already there now confirmed.
“Emily, I…” Wes dropped his hand. “It’s not easy to turn off the feelings I once had for your sister, just like that. It’s going to take time.”
I scanned his face, but his expression wasn’t as pained as I would have liked. I felt my blood boil. Greg was right. Wes was still in love with Jane. “Screw you, Wes,” I spat. My cheeks were on fire.
Wes
looked hurt, but I didn’t care. I snorted and turned away from him, walking down the hall as I heard his thoughts fill with guilt and sorrow. I wanted him to hurt, and I wanted him to know how it felt. There was only one thing I could do to achieve that, and though it scared me, I had to do it.
He was the only one that seemed to care.
Wes:
I watched Emily walk away, feeling my heart break in two.
What had I done?
What was I doing?
I hit myself in the head with the butt of my wrist, finding that the whole concept of school felt stupid at this point. It was clear that I was a freak, both emotionally and physically. Everyone was better off without me. I ripped the bag from my back, throwing it down the hall in an attempt to release steam. It landed on the ground with a thud and slid into a nearby locker. The door smashed in with the force of my throw, my bag bursting open as papers flew across the hall. Great.
My chest was heaving, and sweat was now coating my brow. I grit my teeth and strode in the other direction, throwing open the doors to the cafeteria with such force, I heard the window crack.
I stormed away from the building and to my car. Getting in, I turned the key in the ignition until it nearly broke off, not caring what it would cost to possibly fix if it had. The car roared to life with the same anger that smoldered in my chest. I slammed my foot down on the gas as it sat in park, revving the engine as the whole chassis shook.
Anger boiled over inside me, and I could no longer control it. I gave up running away from my instincts, and I gave up running away in my car. I shut off the engine and opened the door. The animal in me came to the surface, longing to explode out like a bottle of champagne that had been shaken too hard.
I didn’t bother to check if there was anyone in the lot. I tore out of my clothes, leaving the world behind—leaving my humanity in the dust. All I wanted to do was run, all I wanted to do was shred something limb from limb.
I became the wolf my heart desired, pawing my way out of the lot as the pads of my feet gripped on the damp asphalt. My claws tore into the cement, the hair on my back spiked and furious. I leapt off the curb, jumping just in time to avoid a car that swerved out of control and into pole, sending a spark of wires to the ground.
I didn’t turn back. I didn’t care about their fate. I scrambled into the nearby forest, not bothering to hold back a hearty howl of despair.
Jane:
“What?” I gasped.
Max stood, his height suddenly looming. “Please, Jane. Believe me. I am your guardian angel. I was there the day your father died. That was me.”
He walked around and grabbed both my hands with a touch that was soft and sincere. I searched his eyes, seeing the truth, feeling the truth as the ring on my finger seared into my hand. His features no longer lied to me, the planes of his face like a dream I’d lost long ago. It was the face I’d seen as the life in my father’s eyes had faded, and Greg’s face that of his murderer.
Max lifted me from the table, pulling me close to him. The wind blew over us, and I shivered. My body felt weak and malleable, giving into his lead as he urged me to follow him.
With a smirk on his face he added, “Trust me, Jane.”
* *
He sat in the small cabin in the woods. He had been running from the Black Angels since he was eighteen, hiding and feeding off the forest itself. Life as a human and life as an animal had begun to stitch together, and it was hard to know what he was anymore.
The world outside was silent, and the fire his only light. He tried to make his fingers work as they once did, but he was clumsy. There was a sudden knock at the door, and the man stood with a start. He felt his chest compress with fear. He knew who it was, but he was in no state to face him, not like this.
The Black Angel outside knocked again, but did not offer the man inside much chance to respond as his patience grew thin. He kicked the door down, coming face to face with the man, now a panther. The panther hissed, low to the ground and ready to pounce. The Black Angel smiled at the panther, a malicious smile that was certain of the man’s cruel fate, for he had never failed to finish a kill.
The Black Angel’s eyes burned with hate for the very fact of the man’s existence, disgusted by his refusal to join with the Black Knights. A pity; the panther was gorgeous.
The panther circled the room, but so did the Black Angel. The angel’s wings were spread, black as midnight and dripping with the blood of a thousand dead souls. The panther swatted at the angel, but the angel was fast to reveal the blade and cut the panther’s paw as it slashed through the air between them. The man fell to the floor bleeding, screams erupting from his now human mouth. The angel laughed once more.
“You die now,” the Black Angel said. He lifted the blade above the man as the man’s gifted eyes stared at the blade that would kill him. The angel thrust it down through the man’s heart, and the man’s eyes went blank.
* * *
Jane:
I followed Max to his car, his hand never letting go of mine.
“Get in,” He motioned me to the passenger side of the black Land Rover Defender.
I eyed the vehicle. Getting in meant that I was giving in, and I wasn’t sure I was ready to do that. Once I was inside, I had no control over where I was going, or when I could leave—unless I was willing to jump from a moving car. On the other hand, he’d never held me against my wishes, and honestly, what did I really have to lose at this point? I already knew that I should be dead.
“I told you to trust me, Beautiful,” he reminded, smiling slightly as though knowing what I’d thought, knowing that my feet were frozen to the cement of the lot.
I felt a chill wash over me. I needed to remember that he could tune into me like a radio, or at least feel my emotion. I wondered then what it was he’d heard, thinking back to all those times when it seemed he could hear me, but it had seemed crazy. It was then that I began to wonder what it was Emily knew about me. Did she already know about my dreams and visions of death? Why hadn’t she told me? What was the extent of their talent? My mind was wheeling out of control, lost in the seemingly endless array of thoughts I’d always wished to keep to myself.
I heard Max clear his throat in a way that was meant to break my thinking. I forced a smile and did as I was asked, lifting the handle of the car door with a soft click. I got in as my ears were filled with the sound of rustling coat fabric against rough leather.
“Where are we going?” I asked timidly. I grabbed the buckle, now understanding just why it was so imperative to Max that I buckle in.
He was climbing in on his side, the keys jingling. He buckled, starting the car. “Someplace that I can prove to you what I am.”
My imagination went wild as I stared at his hand with the key in the ignition. What would prove it to me? Surely he doesn’t—
I looked back at the doors to the school, feeling a pang of accountability in my gut. I knew I was skipping class, and that was something I rarely did unless sick beyond reason, but this was beyond that—this was bigger than school ever would be. It was my life. Max had known so much about my father, about me and my family. I deserved to know if he was for real—he deserved a chance to prove it to me.
We left the lot, heading toward his house. I said nothing, but only because he said nothing to me. A nervous sweat covered my body, and I wished there was some way to gain control of this situation, but I couldn’t. The car slowed, taking the same exit from the highway. We drove up the mountain about half a mile before we stopped in the middle of the road.
“This is far enough,” Max said, shutting off the car.
He glanced at me before I heard his car door pop and he got out. I scrambled to follow suit, my hands shaking, thinking that this little adventure was beginning to seem a lot like the unsolved murders you hear on the late night news—tonight on Dateline… Murder in the serene peaks of Colorado…
Max eyed me over the hood of the car with an amused smirk.
I pushed the thought away. The mountainous air was clean as it entered my nostrils, smelling of fresh pine and mud. I felt the gravel below my feet crunch as I twisted in place, watching as he approached me and thinking that this was finally it—my death.
His blue eyes were serene, though, no sign of the murderous black I’d seen Friday night at the party. Max took my hand in his and tugged me toward him. We were standing close now, so close that I could hear my heart echoing off his chest.
He let go of my hands, gently touching my cheek. “This is all you’ll need to know in order to see that I’m not lying to you, Beautiful.”
His fingers barely touched my skin—icy cold. He shut his eyes, and for the first time I noticed the tinge of blue that encircled them, powdered with a delicate shimmer, like frost. His shoulders flexed, his body groaning. Something grey began to fan from behind him, slow at first, but as it continued to grow, I had to take a step back to in order to see them in their entirety.
They were soft and delicate, but massive at the same time. Muddied grey feathers draped in intricate layers from two large muscular bows, dipping to the ground in an elegant arch. A light cottony glow surrounded each side. The same silvery shimmer I’d found in the flecks of his eyes coated each individual feather. He moved them slightly, and the wind of it fell across my face, wafting toward me a smell I knew all to well—the sweet smell of death.
I allowed myself a moment to relish the familiarity of it before attempting to speak. “How is it possible?”
He opened his eyes, the flecks of silver now brighter than they’d ever been. “These are it, the thing I know you’ve been wondering for the last thirty minutes.”
I furrowed my brow, stepping toward him, challenging our closeness in my attempt to look brave. His wings had not surprised me the way I thought they would, almost as though a part of me had known they were there all along. The dimple on his cheek was deep, his lips curled.