Revelation (Blood of Angels Book 1)

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Revelation (Blood of Angels Book 1) Page 7

by Paula Arwen Owen


  “Are you ready?” he asked. “I just need to grab a few things.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Des glanced down the corridor. “Is your room that way?”

  “I can show you mine,” Slate interrupted. “It’s much more interesting.”

  Adrian slapped the back of his head and Slate grimaced in mock pain. They walked down past the first door, which was cracked open to reveal walls painted black with a big red anarchy symbol on the far end. The chaotic riff of a heavy metal song leaked out from a radio somewhere within.

  “I used to want to paint my walls black,” Des admitted to Adrian. “But my mom would freak out.”

  “Benefits of not having a mom.” Slate gestured for her to come in, but Adrian glared at him and guided her to the last door on the right.

  “You can ignore him,” he said as he pushed his door open. His walls were painted a soothing blue, with black curtains framing the one tall window. A colorful woven blanket covered the bed and a few posters of artwork were thumb-tacked to the wall. An ink drawing of a deer skull lay on top of a jumble of papers sitting on a tiny desk in the corner.

  “Did you draw that?” She picked up the sketch, examining the expressive lines and fine detail. He nodded shyly. “It’s beautiful!”

  “I would love to draw you someday.” He placed a hand on her cheek and traced the line of her jaw. She bit her lip and shivered, acutely aware that they were alone, in his room, with a bed inches away.

  She almost opened her mouth to suggest they don’t go anywhere today when he dropped his arm and turned to grab a messenger bag sitting on the floor. He pulled on a pair of heavy black boots and his leather coat, then held out his hand.

  “Ready?”

  Des nodded.

  “Say hi to the old fart!” Slate called out as they left.

  Fire and Moonlight

  After stalling once as they sat in traffic near the bridge, Adrian’s little Honda performed faithfully through the maze of the city and out onto the New York State Thruway. Rust flaked off the bottom, and two of the windows only opened halfway, but it was enough to get around the boroughs and go on an occasional trip up the highway. The subways and buses could get you almost anywhere else in the city.

  Des watched the landscape change from the sooty grey blocks of buildings to towering slate mountains lined with the bare bones of autumn trees. The road became less crowded as they drove, until only a handful of cars shared the winding lanes with them.

  “So, your brother seems all right.” Des held her hands in front of the thin blast of warm air struggling through the heating vents. A cold wind buffeted the car, rattling the windows slightly.

  Adrian glanced at her with a slight frown. “He’s bearable.”

  “Is Slate his real name?”

  “Something my uncle used to call him. Like the slate rock in these mountains,” he gestured out the window. “Hard as a rock but put a small crack in it and it comes apart in jagged sheets.”

  “Oh.”

  “He had a hard time when my mom passed, but he likes to pretend he’s over it.”

  “I imagine that’s something you never get over.”

  He gave her a small smile tinged with sadness, and she placed a hand on his leg. He gripped her hand in his for a moment before putting it back on the wheel.

  She thought about her mom and felt a twinge of regret for all the fights they had. They didn’t always get along, but she couldn’t imagine not having her around. Her dad however, was a different story. He wasn’t taken from her like Adrian’s mom. He left of his own free will, more like Adrian’s dad.

  “Do you have a nickname?” she asked.

  “I never had time for nicknames. I was the one who had to keep it all together while my brother was busy falling apart.” His grip on the wheel tightened and she could see his jaw tense. She decided to change the subject.

  “So, my mom wants me to go see a priest. Isn’t that crazy?”

  Adrian glanced at her. “Aren’t you Jewish?”

  “Yeah! Some priest guy who knew my dad convinced her I need men in my life.”

  He chuckled. “And you have no need for men?”

  She grinned at him. “Just one.”

  The car engine whined as they crested a long uphill curve between two towering cliff faces. Miniature waterfalls hung frozen in place along the mottled grey surface as if time had stopped. As they rounded the corner and headed downhill again, the light seemed to grow dim and flakes of crystalline snow drifted down around them. Des looked out the back window to see the bright sky disappearing behind the cliffs in a foggy haze.

  “Mamakating.”

  “What?”

  Adrian grinned. “That’s the name of the town we’re entering. It means ‘dark side of the mountain’.”

  Des viewed the sea of grey trees ahead of them with one shining patch of water in the distance, all still and somber under the leaden sky.

  “Fitting,” she said. “But where’s the town?”

  At the bottom of the hill they took an exit off of the highway and drove through a sleepy little town centered around two gas stations and a diner housed in an old colonial building. Then they began climbing again, the trees narrowing overhead to create a deep corridor of evergreen and oak, their tangled branches hanging onto the last few leaves of the year. Several deer watched them from the side of the road, their long round ears twitching before they bounded off with a flash of white tails.

  She glimpsed occasional houses through the trees, some no more than a half camouflaged trailer at the end of an unpaved path. Others were grand homes seated atop rolling lawns of yellowed grass. They passed several summer camps with empty swimming pools and tennis courts in hibernation until next spring.

  “Here we are.” They turned into a long sloped gravel driveway with a small log cabin perched at the top. Smoke curled out of its stone chimney and stacks of firewood were piled high along the sides. A flurry of colorful birds chattered around a hanging feeder.

  “How cute.” Des gripped her seat as the car slid sideways on the light layer of snow. As they made it to the top, narrowly missing the tail end of the old red jeep parked to the side, a stocky man with wild black hair came out of the house. His weathered skin was darker than Adrian’s, his posture slightly bent, but he was solid in the way of someone who is used to carrying the weight of others on his shoulders. A red and black checkered coat hung open on his broad frame and beat up moccasins adorned his feet. A smile lit up his solemn features as he recognized Adrian’s car.

  “Hey Uncle Jack!” Adrian waved as he stepped out of the car, walking around to open the door for Des. She put a foot on the snowy ground and immediately slipped and fell on her backside. She sat there for a moment in embarrassment, and when she reached up to take the hand offered to her, she found herself staring up into Jack’s large brown eyes. He wrinkled his brow slightly as if puzzled, then hid the expression behind a huge grin, lifting her off the ground as if she were as light as a feather.

  “You must be Desdemona!” he exclaimed, clasping her hand tightly in greeting.

  “Hi,” she mumbled sheepishly, retrieving her hand. “Just Des.”

  “Sure, Des, come in, you look cold. Hey pup, bring in an armload of wood, will ya?”

  Adrian followed them inside with a pile of precariously balanced logs and dumped them next to a small iron woodstove. The house was modest and cozy, decorated with colorful weavings and framed prints of woodland creatures tacked up against the log walls. A sun-bleached deer skull hung near the entrance, and a pleasant hint of pipe tobacco flavored the air. Jack cracked open the door to the woodstove and orange flames leapt up inside, grabbing eagerly at the air flowing in. Des stared at it transfixed, envisioning her dream of an entire city skyline melting in its grasp.

  “Like the fire, eh? Probably don’t see that much down in the city.”

  Des gave him a quick smile and watched as he placed two logs inside and closed the door. She could see the flames through
the soot-tinged glass, devouring the fresh wood, the old coals crumbling into glowing sparks below. Tendrils of transparent blue flickered along the surface of the bark. She had the strangest urge to crawl right into the fire and curl up under the crackling wood, letting the heat envelop her and penetrate her bones.

  “You folks hungry? I got some squirrel cooking in the kitchen.”

  Des glanced at Adrian, who was frowning at his uncle.

  “Just kidding! Got some good old bacon and eggs for you.” Jack winked at her. “Squirrel’s in the freezer.”

  Adrian sat on the worn couch that faced the stove while Jack disappeared through a narrow swinging door into the kitchen. Des leaned over the stove to examine an engraved wolf print hanging on the wall.

  “Pup?” she said, her lips twitching in a grin.

  Adrian leaned back and sighed. “Like a wolf pup, not as cool as Slate, huh?”

  “I see he’s got a thing for wolves.” She gestured at the print with one hand while resting her other on the stove.

  “Des!” Adrian jumped up and snatched her hand off the hot metal, inspecting it for a burn. He ran his fingers over her palm, but there was no mark. She turned her hand back and forth in surprise, recalling the way the Sabbath candles had reacted to her touch without harming her.

  “That surface is like a million degrees! It should have burned you. Let’s put some ice on it.”

  “Not ice, run cool water over it.” Jack was standing behind them with a plate of steaming bacon, staring at her hand. Des quickly closed her palm, hiding the untouched skin.

  “I’m ok, really. That bacon smells amazing.” She took the plate from him and set it on the dining table, hoping to change the subject and fill her grumbling stomach.

  After a delicious meal they ended up back in front of the fire as Jack pulled out a thin rod on the bottom of the stove, feeding more air to the flames. Des was careful not to go too near as she slid onto the couch next to Adrian. Jack motioned at the blaze.

  “Strange how it can sustain life as well as destroying it, isn’t it?”

  Adrian rolled his eyes. “That sounds like the start to one of your long tales,” he said.

  “Well actually,” Jack said, “I was thinking of the story of Ayash, who destroys the world with fire.”

  Des stared at him. “Destroys the world?” she whispered, images of smoking skyscrapers and monstrous wings filling her mind.

  “I don’t think that’s the best story…” Adrian started to protest, but Jack continued.

  “Ayash was only a boy when he was betrayed by his family, by his father, and left all alone. He began to despair, but there were those who came to help him. A fox woman, a shapeshifter, helped him to defeat all sorts of monsters he came across. He went on many journeys before he made it back home to save his mother.”

  Des leaned forward, fascinated, her necklaces dangling and catching the light from the stove. Jack glanced at her and seemed distracted for a moment.

  “Then what happened?” she asked.

  “Well,” he said, “he saved her, and started a fire that killed his father and stepmother. But the fire continued to consume the rest of the world. They say the new world after was an even better one, but when it happens to us I don’t suppose we’ll be around to know.” He leaned towards her as he finished and put his palm under the carved wolf necklace Adrian had given to her.

  “Oh,” she said nervously, “Adrian let me wear it, it’s really beautiful, he said you made it?”

  “Yes.” Jack looked at Adrian with a slight frown. “I made it for you.”

  Des pulled at the cord with her fingers, fumbling with the clasp. “I didn’t mean to… I should give it back.”

  “No.” Jack laid a hand gently on hers, and the necklace dropped back to her chest. “It seems you have captured my pup’s heart.” He smiled. “Keep it safe.”

  Des blushed. “I will.”

  Adrian wrapped an arm around her and kissed her softly on the cheek, making her blush deepen.

  Jack stood and looked out the window at the heavy grey sky.

  “More snow coming tonight, don’t want you heading out into a storm.” He leveled his gaze at Adrian, the sky reflecting in his deep brown eyes. “Help an old man cut some wood before it gets dark, eh?”

  Des watched from inside as Adrian swung an axe in a practiced arc, splitting round logs into chunks of firewood. After a few swings he removed his coat, giving her an even better view of his lean but muscular arms, his tattoo peeking out from under his shirt sleeves. His back strained as he worked, pulling his black shirt tighter around his body. Jack helped him stack the pieces in neat alternating rows.

  “That was entertaining,” she told him when he came inside, running a hand down his arms and heaving chest.

  “I’m glad someone enjoyed it.” He flexed his muscles and grinned. “Maybe you can help relieve the pain this will cause me later.”

  “Maybe.”

  The sky outside was darkening fast, the encroaching night more noticeable without city lights. Jack gave them some dried venison for the road, which Adrian stuffed in his bag with a grimace.

  “You should come down to the city sometime,” Adrian said as he gave his uncle a brief hug.

  Jack shrugged. “I’m not too fond of the city, even if it is our homeland. Too many people.”

  “Your homeland?” Des questioned.

  “Sure, the Lenape people used to live in Manhattan. We even named the place.” He grunted. “Stole that from us too.”

  Adrian rolled his eyes. “Don’t start that again. We were having a nice visit.”

  Jack sighed and nodded. “Yes it was. Tell your lazy brother to come visit too.” He turned to Des and grasped her hand in farewell. “Take care.”

  His parting words felt more like an admonishment than a farewell, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he really approved of her and Adrian together. Adrian’s arm around her waist comforted her. If he brought her here to meet his family, it meant he was serious about their relationship, whether Jack approved or not. The thought made her feel both elated and a little bit nervous.

  Outside the snow had stopped and the sky was clear for a moment. Des looked up to discover little dots of light already visible.

  “You can see all the stars here,” said Adrian, following her gaze. “It’s not like in the city.”

  The round lantern of a moon hung low in the sky, wispy clouds drifting across it, filtering its light where they touched. The tall trees surrounding them loomed dark and still, their bare branches scattering the moonlight into eerie patterns on the blue-tinged snow. Smooth and pristine, the snow seemed to glow with its own azure light. Ice clinging to tree branches twinkled like a million tiny fireflies, their quiet creaking in the wind the only sound to penetrate the stillness of the night.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Des whispered, her breath curling through the frosty air as she slowly twirled around to take it all in.

  Adrian watched her with an amused look. “Can you see your namesake up there?”

  Des peered up at the deep blue expanse for the star named Desdemona, as if she could pick it out from the rest.

  “Sure,” she said, starting to point to a random spot. Suddenly the sky seemed to surround her and lift her out of her body. She felt as if she was floating in an endless void, each star a part of her, full of light and darkness and a vast emptiness. One star gradually glowed brighter and brighter until it burst in a shower of sparks that singed her skin.

  I am here, a voice echoed, and it felt like the same presence that had been inside the roots in the cemetery.

  The long shrill call of an owl cut through the hushed night air, dispelling her vision. Her eyes focused on Adrian and realized he was holding her arms and saying something. The owl called again and was answered by the mournful howl of a wolf.

  “That was weird,” Des said.

  “You mean the screech owl, or the fact that you phased out for a minute?”

 
“That’s just like the one we heard in the cemetery. Wait, there are wolves around here?”

  “Only coyotes. You sure you’re ok?”

  “Yeah, I’m just…” seeing things, she thought. Hearing things. Maybe her dreams were leaking over into her waking life. Or maybe Cyrus had done something to her, some sort of hypnosis, the way he made her see monsters in the subway.

  “Fine, I’m just fine.” She stepped closer to him as the night air seeped through her coat and his arms encircled her with warmth. She slid her cold hands under his shirt and he jumped.

  “Maybe the fire didn’t burn you because your hands are made of ice!”

  “Very funny.”

  He wound his thin scarf around her shoulders and opened his coat, wrapping her in it so she was cocooned against his chest, then placed his cheek next to hers.

  “Warmer?”

  She nodded and turned her head to meet the warmth of his lips, heat blossoming through her body from his gentle kiss. She ran her hands up his back and felt him shiver as the kiss intensified. His lips travelled down her neck and onto her collarbone, making her bite her cheek to keep from letting out a moan. She didn’t want him to drive her home right now, she wanted to drive back to his place and continue this feeling, to sink into the sensual bliss of his flesh against hers. She whimpered when he pulled away with a low growl and placed his forehead against hers.

  “You drive me crazy,” he whispered.

  She smiled. “So do you.”

  “Ready to go?”

  “No.”

  He gave her one last kiss and opened the car door.

  “I better get you home before your mom sends out a search party.”

  As she lifted the ends of her coat to get in the car, a big brass coin fell out of her pocket onto the seat. Adrian picked it up as he got in, holding it up to the moonlight.

  “Where did you find that? It looks ancient.”

  “Um, some guy gave it to me on the subway.”

  “So you were panhandling? Or you meet random guys on the subway all the time?”

 

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