Angel Born

by Brian Fuller

  Tela opened the door and stepped out, face alive.

  “So it’s started, then?” she asked brightly.

  “Yep,” Helo answered. She really was cute when she was happy.

  “When am I going on?”

  He had forgotten to ask Faramir about her schedule. “Not sure. Someone will let us know.”

  “Can we go have a look?” she asked.

  He nodded and led her to the gym doors. The lights had gone down, the strobes near the front flashing in time with the music. The sea of Ash Angel auras was impressive, as large a group as Helo had seen together during his afterlife.

  “Wow,” Tela half yelled to get over the noise. “This is legit. Who decorated this place?”

  “I don’t know,” Helo said, “but not bad at all.”

  Smiling from ear to ear, Alan wormed his way out of the crowd.

  “Figures I’d pull guard duty on the best one of these I’ve ever seen,” he said. “The DJ said she’ll sing a song after this one’s over. I’ll take the room this time, and you take the door.”

  “Sounds good,” Helo answered.

  “I’ve got to get my guitar,” Tela said.

  The song ended just as Tela went into the teachers’ lounge.

  “Give it up for the Sensational Samurai and the Geisha Goddess!” Faramir said, followed by more clapping and cheering. “Tonight we have a special treat. Throughout the dance, we’ll have Tela Mirren play a song for us so you can all rest your legs. She is here, thanks to one of our sponsors, Guardian Protective Services. So let’s give it up for Tela Mirren!”

  Tela burst out of the door with her guitar, running gingerly in high heels. Helo stopped at the gym door while Alan followed her through the crowd, which split as she came in. He wondered what song she would choose and hoped she wasn’t too nervous. During the intense graveyard battle, she had kept her cool, but she certainly had seemed a bit skittish at the hotel.

  “’Sup, Helo,” someone behind him said.

  The voice belonged to Corinth, and when Helo spun around, he found his friend morphed into a skinny runt of a man covered in acne and wearing round spectacles as thick as shot glasses. His tux was straight from the seventies, with bell-bottom pants and ruffles on the shirt. For an Ash Angel who liked to dress and morph to beach-body perfection, it was a bit disorienting.

  And he fidgeted nervously, like he couldn’t figure out where to put his hands. His date was similarly scrawny, dark hair long and straight, wearing orthodontic headgear and a green corduroy dress. It was awful. But her dark eyes. The shape of her face. The wistful look in her eyes.

  It couldn’t be.

  Corinth cleared his throat. “Helo,” he said, “I want you to meet Scarlet, but, um, you kind of already—”

  “It’s me, Trace,” Scarlet said, swallowing hard.

  Helo stumbled backward, mind reeling. His leg found a chair and he immediately collapsed into it, barely aware of Tela’s singing behind him.

  It was impossible.

  It was crazy.

  But the longer he stared at her, the more sure he was. It was Terissa—the woman who had cheated on him, the woman King had tormented him with.

  It was his wife.

  Chapter 14

  Till Death Did Us Part

  Helo’s heart and mind ran around directionless inside him like blindfolded children, slamming into emotional walls with no doorway out. Terissa. He just looked at her, dumbfounded, unsure of what his face was doing. She’d been an Ash Angel since December and no one had told him! Did she have any idea how badly she had hurt him or how it practically took divine intervention for him to forgive her and move on?

  By a sheer act of will, he got back to his feet. Her eyes filled with tears. Her betrayal had nearly undone him, yes, but he had forgiven her—he had! Whatever emotional torture she had cost him, she was an Ash Angel now, her aura glowing around her like God’s own approval of who she had become. Who was he to judge any differently?

  He swallowed, forced away the confusion, and attempted a smile. A moment later Terissa—Scarlet—was in his arms, crying. Scarlet. Maybe that was the key. If he could leave her old name behind, maybe he could see her as different, new.

  Corinth patted his shoulder. “I’ll let you two talk,” he said. “Though I’ll want her back.”

  After a long look, Corinth merged into the crowd. Scarlet pulled herself away and wiped her eyes, her scrawny, teenager appearance lending her a pathetic air.

  Helo’s brain still felt stuck in neutral. Memories of her flooded back, especially the painful ones. Then again, even the good memories were painful now. He knew thinking of her that way wasn’t fair, but when the Dreads had torched him . . . well, they weren’t fair, either. He had to get past it.

  “You look really good, Trace, or Helo, or whatever,” she said. “Corinth has told me all about the stuff you’ve—”

  “How long?” he finally asked. “How long have you known I was an Ash Angel?”

  “Magdelene told me the night she awakened me,” she said. “She told me she thought it best I wait to talk to you until I had done my training. I didn’t know why at the time, but I get it now. I’ve never been torched, but Corinth has helped me understand what it means. What it does to you. I am so, so sorry that—”

  “No,” Helo said. “Don’t. I had to put it behind me. You’ve got to as well. It’s a new life, Scarlet. Start fresh and all that.” His mind was churning so hard he almost missed the obvious question. “How did you die?”

  “Simon killed me,” she said. “I walked in on him roughing up Cassandra and tried to stop him. He backhanded me. I don’t think he meant to kill me, but here we are.”

  Helo was floored. Cassandra had known the whole time and never told him! Would he have behaved any differently if he had known Terissa would be an Ash Angel someday? Would he behave any differently now? He couldn’t even seem to focus on her, something about her face still sending slivers of pain under his emotional skin.

  “Look, Trace,” she said, “well, Helo, I just wanted to get this out of the way so I could . . . well . . . so I could stop thinking about it. Don’t hate me, please. I blew it. I know that. But I want to be better, do better, and ever since I was awakened, I’ve felt so good. But I had to talk to you before I could keep going. Am I making any sense?”

  “Yeah, sure. Yeah,” Helo answered, tongue fumbling on his words. What was she even saying? He wasn’t sure anything coming out of her mouth was sticking in his brain. Terissa Evans was alive again. She had died trying to save Cassandra. And she was on a date . . . with Corinth?

  Tela finished her song, and the crowd clapped appreciatively. Terissa regarded him softly and rubbed his arm. A wistful sadness clung to her eyes. How were they going to get along after this? What was he supposed to do? There weren’t any rules to follow.

  “Look, Helo,” she said. “You need time to think. I did. If you want to talk, look me up, though I’ll understand if you don’t, okay? I wish you all the best. I mean it.” She squeezed his arm. “Goodbye.”

  And then she was gone. Helo sat back down since the floor beneath his feet didn’t feel stable anymore. Was this some kind of a sign? A divine test of some sort?

  “Helo!” Tela said, face flushed.

  He snapped his head up, and she frowned.

  “Something is wrong now,” she observed. “What happened to you?”

  He stood up and adjusted his gear, working his face back into a bodyguard-on-the-job expression. “I’m good to go. Back to the teachers’ lounge?”

  “Bathroom, actually,” she said, her face scrunched in worry. “You’re not a good liar, by the way. You really don’t look like yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” he affirmed, trying to install a backbone of truth into his slumping words.

  Tela shook her head and handed him her guitar as they arrived at the bathroom.

  “Back in a minute,” she said.

  Helo leaned against the wall and closed his eye
s, listening to the thumping and the whooping and the talking behind the cinder-block wall in front of him. The celebration made no sense to him now. There was a time when it would have appealed to him. He had almost felt it only a few minutes ago, but every time he thought himself free, some fresh trouble had to sprout up and chain him back to reality.

  Terissa as an Ash Angel was a whole new level of weird.

  He opened his eyes to find a pretty Geisha girl leaning against the wall opposite him, a sympathetic expression on her white-painted face. Speaking of trouble. He stood up straight.

  “You look like hell,” Aclima said. “And that’s saying something coming from someone like me.”

  “Did you know?” he asked.

  “Know what?” she returned, moving closer to him.

  “About Terissa.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks. “Your wife? What about her? No! Did Cain get to her?”

  So she didn’t know. Or was lying. She was probably good at that. “No. She’s an Ash Angel now. Simon, a Dread who worked at her office, killed her during one of our operations. I had no idea until three minutes ago. She was trying to save Cassandra, who was morphed into an old woman at the time.”

  Aclima’s hand went to her mouth, eyes wandering everywhere at first but brightening the more she thought.

  “But that’s wonderful!” she said, then cocked her head. “You don’t feel the same?”

  “It is good,” he said, half trying to convince himself. “I mean, how can it not be good? She deserves it. It’s just . . . you know our history, right?”

  “Yes,” she said, eyes calculating. “But can’t you see? It’s a second chance! You loved her once. Maybe there’s a divine hand here repairing a wrong and bringing two people together again.”

  “She’s already dating someone else,” he said.

  Aclima stepped right in front of him, gaze intense. “Then you get her back. She may have avoided you until tonight, but now that she’s seen you, she won’t be able to get you out of her head. I’ll bet you whatever money you’ve got, she’ll call you before the week is out.”

  “I don’t know . . .”

  Tela walked out of the bathroom, took her guitar back, and smiled at Aclima. “Who’s this, Helo?”

  Helo wasn’t quite ready for the mental gymnastics required to lie to Tela at the moment. He opened his mouth, hoping for something to fill it, when Aclima stepped in.

  “I work for Guardian Protection Services too,” she said. “I’m undercover, as you can see. Just checking in with our boy here.”

  “Oh,” Tela said. “Great. Your costume is fabulous!”

  “Thank you,” Aclima said. “And your voice is sublime. I wish you the best. Can I have a private word with—”

  “Wait a minute,” Helo said. “Where is Alan?”

  “Here!” he said, jogging down the hall. “Sorry. I got asked to dance by this total babe dressed like Cleopatra. She thought I was wearing a bodyguard costume, and I didn’t have the heart to say no.”

  “Alan,” Aclima said, “can you take Tela where she needs to go so I can have a word with Helo?”

  Alan glanced at Helo. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Tela said to Aclima. “I’m playing your favorite song next, Helo, so don’t be too long.”

  They left, Tela glancing back for a moment. Aclima leaned on the wall next to him and breathed out.

  “Look, Helo,” she said. “I don’t want this distance between us anymore, okay? I want you to respect me, both as a member of the team and as a woman who knows what she’s doing. For my part, I will refrain from being vindictive. It’s not one of my better qualities, but it has been a part of my nature for . . . well, forever.”

  “I don’t want the distance, either,” he said. “And I’d like to keep my head on for a solid week if at all possible. I’ll be straight with you. I don’t think you should be out in the field, but it’s not my call. I know that.” But it was other people’s call, and he wouldn’t promise not to work on them.

  “No, it’s not,” she stated as if to drive it home. “Now, one last request. After the dance, I would like to help you with Tela until your shift is over and drive back to Zion Alpha with you. Is that all right?”

  Company would be nice. “That would be great. But be prepared. She’s been having lots of nightmares about me and is going to tell me about them after the dance.”

  “Really?” Aclima said, frowning. “That’s not good coming from an Attuned.”

  “Tell me about it. Actually, having you there will be good. Your experience might help in figuring out the imagery.”

  She smiled. “Well, all those years reading everything I could get my hands on has to pay off at some point. Look, I don’t want to be a date-ditcher, so I’d better get back in there, but don’t leave without me.”

  “I won’t,” he said. “And you do look terrific.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “But with an Ash Angel name like Jeopardy, I think I’ll go as Alex Trebek next time. See you after, Helo.”

  The dance officially ended at twelve, though cars still packed the parking lot. Helo lugged Tela’s amp back to the minivan and loaded it in. Despite the late hour, Tela still seemed peppy, her face bright after her last performance and the abundant applause she had received during the night. Alan was texting in the driver’s seat while he waited for them to load up.

  “How’s a girl supposed to compete with that?” Tela said after throwing her instrument cable in the back.

  “With what?” Helo said, following her gaze to where Aclima had just come through the doors. She had changed out of her Geisha costume into the shorts-and-camisole number she had worn in the theater. It really wasn’t fair, but Tela wasn’t anything to scoff at either.

  “She’s not all that,” Helo said after closing the hatch.

  Tela smirked. “Whatever, Helo. What’s her name?”

  “Call her Jeopardy,” Helo said. “She’s coming with me to help during the night.”

  “I see,” Tela said, tone flat. “Hey, Jeopardy, are you even wearing makeup?”

  Aclima’s eyebrows raised. “Well, no.”

  Tela shook her head. “Figures. You have such a nice complexion. What’s your secret?”

  “Diet and exercise,” she answered smoothly. “I was going to comment about your hair earlier. Is that your natural color?”

  Helo opened the door for Tela. “It’s the original,” she said as she climbed inside.

  “How do you keep it looking so good?” Aclima asked.

  For the rest of the ride back to the hotel, Helo sat next to Aclima in the middle seats while she and Tela girl-talked. Aclima could talk shotguns and science with the same facility as lip gloss and nail polish. If she knew so much and could do so much, what did she really take pleasure in doing? It seemed like a safe place to start a conversation with her when they were driving back to Zion Alpha.

  After a quick stop to get Tela the greasiest, most artery-clogging bacon cheeseburger they could find, they drove back to the hotel. The Super Sleeper Econo Lodge and its decided lack of exterior lights gave it a Halloween slasher-film quality as they pulled in front of unit 9. Alan opened the stubborn door while Helo retrieved Tela’s guitar from the back.

  Aclima met him at the back of the van. “Can’t the Ash Angels do better than this?” she whispered.

  Helo slammed the hatch shut. “I think they’re trying to keep her off the grid so she’s harder to track. She doesn’t seem to mind. I’m sure this place will take cash, no questions asked.”

  They went inside and waited while Tela changed into a comfortable pair of flannel pajamas. With four of them in the modestly-sized room, it felt a bit crowded until Alan left, stating he would keep watch from the van and push a report to command. Helo wondered if “command” was Archus Ramis.

  Tela lounged on the bed and launched into the hamburger, fries, and shake, and Helo regretted not getting something for himself. He took the squealin
g chair by the desk, and Aclima sat on the other side of the bed. Aclima looked really good. Tela’s thick steak fries really looked good too.

  Tela glanced up and threw a fry at him. “That’s all you’re getting,” she teased. “You want one, Jeopardy?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “With a figure like yours, I bet you don’t eat stuff like this very much,” Tela said.

  Aclima smiled.

  Helo leaned back in the chair and popped the fry in his mouth. Good stuff. “So, I was wondering if you could tell me more about these dreams you’re having about me.”

  Tela frowned. “Can it wait until I’m done eating?”

  “Sure,” he answered. “Take your time.”

  They made small talk until she wadded up the burger wrapper and threw the last fry to Helo. They were better warm, but he wouldn’t complain. After arranging the pillows on the bed so she could lean against them, she launched into a series of dreams, her descriptions filling him with February ice. The first three were clearly references to his experiences with the downed airplanes and his ordeal with Cassandra on the Tempest, though all were veiled in the strange imagery and symbols common to cryptic dreamers.

  “There have been two since then,” Tela continued, her face having lost its earlier brilliance. Dark patches settled beneath her eyes, and she wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold. “The first one starts in this creepy forest—you know, like the ones you see in fairy-tale stories where witches and ghosts live. It’s night, with just enough moonlight to see. All these gnarled, dead branches reach out like they’re trying to grab me as I walk by, the knobs on the branches bending like knuckles to claw at me.

  “So I see some light ahead and go toward it. Then this tree with brilliant white fruit slowly comes into view as I wind around the wasted trunks of all these other trees around it. This tree is still alive. It still has leaves. But what’s weird is that Helo’s face is a part of the trunk, formed out of bark. It’s kind of hard to tell it’s him, but in the dream I just know it is.”