by Abra Ebner
I drew in one shaky breath and she smirked. “What’s wrong, too much?”
I wasn’t used to her like this. “No.” I stammered.
She brought her hand up behind my neck, pulling me in to kiss her.
I had control. I could handle this. She knew what to say to make this a challenge, something I thrived on. Her body was stronger now, her bones able to handle my strength. I was no longer afraid I would kill her. I lifted her off the ground, and she wrapped her legs around me, her warmth something I craved. Her lips were intertwined with mine, her breathing the only sound that mattered. This is what I had always wanted, but it was too soon.
I had to stop.
“Elle—”
Her lips froze, my hands guiding her away from me. She tilted her head, her eyes filled with disappointment.
“I know, Edgar.”
COMING CLEAN
Estella
“I see you found it.” Edgar played with the chain around my neck, making it tickle my skin.
I took it from his hands, looking at it as it glowed white and burning hot against the skin on my hand. “It was black all this time.” I had forgotten about the ring in the excitement, for the first time noticing it had changed.
He rolled toward me, our bodies separated by a safe pile of pillows. He traced his hand up my chest to the chain, twisting it until he found the clasp and released it from my neck. I felt relieved to have it off me, the power of it letting go of my soul. I watched Edgar let the ring slide from the chain, filling the room with a delightful tingling sound of metal.
He held it in his hand, flipping it over and over. “Where did you find it?”
I smiled, and looked toward his desk, the black sheets tangled around my arms as I tried to point. “In there.”
He looked mildly angry. “I tried to keep you out of here.” He looked up at all the paintings with a glimmer of shame in his eyes.
I didn’t want him to feel ashamed of who he was. “I love them. I love this room.”
He looked at me in surprise. “You do?” He sat up, and I admired his strong bare chest, his wings now retracted. We were lounging in his room, trying all we could to resist what we both wanted. I knew he still felt weak, but I felt in control. We were so close, but still, he would not allow me into the deepest regions of his heart.
“Yes, I slept here while you were gone. It’s you, the Edgar I always wanted to know.” I touched his face. “This is beautiful, a true sense of your soul, the opposite of mine, but still a part that is essential to my existence.”
He looked amazed.
I reached toward him, and took the ring from his hand. “Here.” I grabbed his finger and slid it on, a flash of the past returning to me.
He laughed. “Thanks.”
I held his hand as his eyes filtered to black, just as they had been all night. I was no longer afraid of it. He would not kill me. I knew he couldn’t. There was something inside me that felt more confident now. I would no longer be afraid.
“Don’t hide from me, Edgar.” I slid my body next to his, our skin touching as his eyes now filled with anger, something I found seductive. “I am in love with the darkness inside you. I want to embrace that.”
He leaned in and kissed my neck, his grasp strong. I put my hand on his chest and pushed him away. “I want to be the wife—” I paused, looking deep in his eyes. “The wife I was supposed to be. I want us to be together, completely.”
He took my hand and kissed it, his teeth grazing my skin, my touch driving him mad. I smiled. This image of him in my head was the man I’d always wanted, not the man tortured by anger and holding back his desires. At times I wanted to escape my beautiful life, embrace danger and feel the dark side.
“Edgar, we are here together. This is our life, as one life.” I laughed.
He touched my chin. “Though it’s an endless life, Elle, I have learned that it does not mean it isn’t fleeting. I can still lose you. I just got you back. I’m not ready to risk that.”
I grinned. “I want to spend every second with you.”
He chuckled. “Every second?”
I gave him a playful slap on the arm. “Edgar, you know what I mean.”
His smile was striking. “I won’t allow us to part ever again, Elle. I’m sorry we ever did.”
“We won’t.” His eyes were pitch black. I leaned away from him, allowing him space.
“I won’t allow us to separate as we have so many times, and I promise to be true to you, to be the other half I am supposed to be,” he declared.
I took his words to heart, believing the look on his face. “What was it like?” I changed the subject.
He shrugged, knowing exactly what I was talking about. “Much like what I assume you felt when you disappeared, though I was dead and you were just asleep.”
“Why weren’t you in Heaven, then, like everyone else?”
His lips pressed together. “I suppose I was, but perhaps caged. Did you see me while you were there?”
I nodded. “Yes. They had you at the white castle.”
“Yes, I must have hovered there under some spell. Drugged, so to speak. Anyway, in Fate’s eyes, I must have died at some point, otherwise I wouldn’t be an angel. Perhaps the gods managed to bring me back from the dead? Struck a bargain of some sort?”
“Yes,” I agreed, affirming what I already knew, but I had hoped there was more.
I thought about that day at the castle, and the little girl that had led me there—my mother. I began to wonder how this all worked, who was in charge, and why. I looked toward the window where the curtain was cracked, reveling a rainy sky.
“Looks like the bad weather has returned.” I frowned.
Edgar’s face changed, and I tried to understand why. “Seems so.”
I read into his reply. “Do you know why?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure.” His voice was flat, his eyes staring into mine as though he wanted me to say something, but there was nothing.
There was a knock on the door then.
I wrapped the sheets around me and sat up, not wanting to be seen in my camisole and underwear. “Yes?”
I heard someone begin to turn the handle. “Hey, Elle. It’s Margriete.”
Edgar’s face changed back to happiness. “Margriete! Come in!”
I looked at Edgar with an angry face. “Edgar!” I hissed.
He looked at me, remembering we were practically naked, but it was too late.
“Hey, guys!” She came bounding in, halting as she saw us. “Whoa there, put on some clothes.” She shielded her eyes and turned away from us.
“It’s not what you think,” I said with resentment.
Edgar jumped from the bed and I grabbed one of his shirts from the floor, putting it on while Edgar grabbed a fresh shirt, letting the hem fall over his still-intact jeans.
“Are you decent now?” She peeked over her shoulder, content that I had a shirt, “Don’t you know that’s dangerous? You shouldn’t get that close.” She barked, referencing what we had done. “Young idiots playing with fire is what that is.”
I laughed, thinking of something that would shut her up. “I know what you and Sam do, so…”
Her jaw dropped. “I do no such thing!” she denied, but the smirk on her face said it all.
Edgar’s expression showed disgust. “So it is true? Margriete and Sam really are a thing? That’s repulsing.”
I laughed.
Margriete hissed. “No worse than you. I hear you’re an angel now, too—” She paused for a moment. “Pillow talk,” she added, just to piss him off.
Edgar pretended to gag.
“So, Edgar.” Margriete stared at him. “Long time no see.” She put one hand on her hip, giving him a sassy face.
I watched the both of them, neither one flinching as though stuck in some sort of face off. Margriete hadn’t seen Edgar in decades, since she had run away, and I wasn’t exactly sure how they would interact. Considering the circumstanc
es, and Matthew’s death, I wasn’t sure if it would be a delightful reunion or a dreadful fight. Though she had been with me down in Heaven, the Edgar we had seen there wasn’t real.
They continued to stare, inhaling and exhaling in even breaths. The tension was unbearable, and I found myself covered in a cold sweat. It was then that I saw a smile begin to form on Margriete’s lips, and I rolled my eyes, a breath of relief releasing from my lungs.
“Oh, Edgar!” She ran toward him and jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist and giving him a big dramatic kiss on the cheek.
Edgar struggled to hold her, his eyes changing to black, sensing the creature she was.
Margriete leaned back, sliding her legs from around him and back to the floor, looking at his eyes. “Oh, Edgar. No need to be so overdramatic. Cool it.” She gave him a playful smack on the shoulder, which I doubt made the situation any easier for him.
His skin was glistening with sweat. “Thanks Margriete.” He paused and cleared his throat, walking toward his desk where he shuffled through some papers to distract himself. “I didn’t expect you to be so bubbly.” Edgar turned and looked at me. “Was she always like this? I can’t remember.”
I glared at him. “Yes, darling. She was.”
Margriete grabbed my arm. “Hey, come have some coffee with me.”
I looked at Edgar over my shoulder, but he was still busy going through the papers on the desk.
“Oh, come on. He’s busy anyway,” she pleaded.
I nodded, and she grabbed my hand, pulling me through the stacks of books and papers to the door, where we made our way down the stairs toward the kitchen.
“So, tell me—” She leaned in close, staring at me from under her brows with a smirk on her face. “How far did you guys get?”
I snorted. “Not a story for little girls like you.” I crossed my arms and stuck my nose in the air, taking a stool at the copper bar in the kitchen. I looked down at my reflection as I always did, seeing it seemed to change everyday, depending on my mood.
Sam had his back to me as he stood by the fire, humming to himself. Margriete skipped behind him, running her fingertips down his back with a smile.
“Wasn’t that a wonderful wedding?” She grabbed two mugs from the cabinet, her voice loud as though she were hinting at something.
Sam stopped humming and stood up straight. “No.”
Margriete pouted. “Why not?” She frowned.
“Because weddings are dumb. If you love someone you love someone, there’s no need to declare it to the world.”
Sam had a point, but I sided with Margriete.
She shook her head. “You’re so new age.”
Sam laughed. “No. I’m just not one that believes it has to be sealed with a ring. And for what? So the gods can laugh at us? I think marriage seems pointless when you’re immortal.” Sam looked at me. “No offense, Elle.” He then looked back at Margriete. “The god’s are practically our friends. I don’t need them teasing me.”
Margriete snorted. “You have a skewed sense of friendship. Last time I checked, we were enemies.” She grabbed the coffee from the coffee maker and filled the two mugs, adding sugar and milk to mine before handing it to me. She rolled her eyes, her back to Sam.
“I saw that.” He was still facing the fire, stirring something that smelled familiar, and cheesy.
“Let’s go into the other room.” Margriete hissed over her shoulder, grabbing my hand and ripping me from the stool, dragging me down the hall to the library.
“Hey, don’t go! I made this for you—” Sam’s voice trailed off as we left him behind.
I wriggled from her grasp and escaped to the couch. Rubbing my arm, I sat, leaning into the soft leather and tucking my legs under me.
“That man is impossible,” she whispered.
“I can still hear you!” Sam yelled.
Margriete burst into a fit of laughter, shaking her head. “If he wasn’t so cute, I wouldn’t be with him.” She turned her head to speak over her shoulder. “That’s for sure!” she yelled back.
I took a deep breath and blinked, thinking I was far too happy to deal with their playful bickering. I prayed that Edgar and I never got like that, hoping we had better ways to handle indifference. I repositioned my back against the side cushion, wiggling my feet as I sat on them, trying to warm them up. I brought the coffee to my nose and breathed deep, shutting my eyes.
Margriete sunk into the chair opposite me. “Dreary day, isn’t it? Seems weird for summer.”
I opened my eyes and looked out the window. “Yeah, seems strange.” I looked over the grasses of the field to the forest, noticing the way the trees seemed yellowed, the grasses sad. I looked at the sky, covered by thick layers of clouds, making it feel like night.
“I get this weird feeling, you know—” She tried to think of the right thing to say. “I mean, do you feel that?”
I shrugged. “Feels like a rainy day to me. Though I will admit it’s been happening a lot more than normal.”
Margriete’s face pursed, as though trying to concentrate on the feeling that was right on the tip of her tongue. “No. No, it’s like I hear something. Like a buzzing noise. Sort of like putting a bunch of bees in a thick jar and closing the lid.”
I half-heartedly tried to listen more closely. “So, like a beehive?”
She looked at me with a face that seemed like she was giving up. “Never mind.”
I shrugged. “Sorry.”
Margriete changed the subject. “So what did Edgar tell you about what happened?”
I took a sip of coffee. “He says he doesn’t remember. He thinks he was somewhere between sleep and death. But I think it’s apparent that, somewhere along the way, he did die, but like he said, I think they made a bargain with someone to bring him back. It just seems odd that they’d go through all that trouble just to get that stupid dagger.”
“He doesn’t remember anything?” She let out a sharp disgusted breath. “Well, that tells us nothing.”
“What were you thinking he’d say?”
Margriete thought for a moment. “Well, I figured he’d tell you why it was he got to come back. What the real reason was, because like you said, it seems a little weak that they’d go through all that trouble just to get a dagger. I mean, no offense or anything, but I really didn’t think they’d let him go. It’s not like them to act like that—merciful.”
I nodded, trying to follow. “Yeah. I mean, like they said, anyone killed by the dagger dies, even them.”
“Exactly. He should be dead. End of story.”
“Well—” I sat up a little. “I mean, they kept him because I had the dagger, and they brought him back so that I’d give it to them.”
Margriete shook her head in a sharp, annoyed manner. “It just seems like an awfully generous trade to me. Maybe that’s what they want you to believe. As far as I’ve known, they’ve never let anyone out of Heaven like that. In a way, they admitted defeat by doing so.”
“Well, Edgar is a guardian angel, and they let them out.” I kept trying to thwart her speculations, believing it was what it seemed: a simple trade. The last thing I wanted was to believe something else was coming. I was prepared to relax and enjoy life for once.
“Yeah, yeah. But who does he protect? Certainly he’s not your angel. You have Sam, and I have no angel at all, nor do I want one.” She laughed to herself in a thankful manner. “Guardian angels only leave Heaven when they have a soul to protect, and he has none.”
“I think you’re reading into this too much.” I took another sip of coffee.
“No, I think the god’s are buttering you up for something. They’re gonna come back and ask for more. That’s what beings like them do. Just watch.”
“What makes you think they aren’t content with what they’ve got already?”
Margriete glared at me. “Come on, girl! They’re never content. And besides, you didn’t sign anything.”
I tilted my head. “Should I have
signed something?”
“Did they have something for you to sign?”
“No.”
Margriete sat up suddenly. “Then, yes! You should have signed something, anything, a napkin for goodness sakes. You needed to draw out a contract stating ‘this is it, don’t ask me for more’.”
I began to get frustrated. “Well, you were there. Why didn’t you tell me this?” I barked, feeling I was being attacked.
Margriete sat back, finally tasting her coffee. “I had other things to worry about.”
I could tell she felt mildly guilty, but at the same time, what was I to do? I had been inundated by many emotions that day, and now she tells me I should have signed a contract, too? That I should have sat there longer, and drawn something up like a bunch of lawyers at a divorce hearing? I don’t think so.
“So, pretty much you’re telling me I’m screwed?” I began to feel foolish, as though I should have known.
“Well, maybe. Maybe not. You just better hope they don’t need you for something, because if they do, then yes, you’re screwed.”
Her words held little comfort as I remembered the way the gods had treated me, as though I was someone they needed alive, but why? What was in store for me that I did not yet know about?
Edgar walked down the stairs then, and all I could think about was my future and my imminent loss. “Edgar? Should I have signed something?”
His pace down the stairs slowed, pressing his brows together. “Signed something? For what?”
“When I traded you for the dagger. Should I have signed something saying they need to leave me alone, and that they can’t come back and ask for more?” I searched his face as he made it to the bottom of the stairs, the sound of his feet echoing through the empty hallway.
“Maybe.” He looked as though I’d caught him off guard.
“Well, they won’t want me for anything that you can think of, right? I mean, I’m nothing special. It’s not like I can move mountains like you can.”
I heard Sam walk from the kitchen, probably intrigued by the conversation. “Yeah, Edgar. I mean, she has nothing to worry about, right?” He echoed me.