He told the truth because he was tired of living a lie. He told Ada who he was because, for reasons he didn’t quite understand, he wanted her to know the real Joshua.
Joshua pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and extracted a photo hidden between his driver’s license and library card. He tried not to notice how it fluttered slightly in his fingers as he handed it to Ada.
“That picture was taken in 1950,” he said. “I was eighteen.”
It wasn’t the first time someone had seen the photograph in all these years, but it was the first time he didn’t remark on how much he looked like his father, or as he had come to do in more recent years, his grandfather.
Ada didn’t hold the picture up next to his face or call it a fake or any of the things he expected. Her finger traced lightly over the worn, old image as if touching his photographed face could make sense of what she was seeing.
“Who is the girl?”
“Evelyn.” He swallowed past the decades old grief. “My Evey. She died three months after that picture was taken.” He’d listen to her breaths grow more shallow and less frequent as he raced toward town, begging her to hold on until they could find a doctor, but she couldn’t fight anymore. Her wounds had been too extensive. He could still remember the weight of her body his arms and the smell of her blood mixed with his tears.
The dock rocked gently on the waves. Even though they were just feet from the shore, it felt as if they were adrift in a vast ocean, far away from the real world where this information was dangerous. The night had stripped Joshua of the constant vigilance and anxiety he’d carried with him since he’d been transformed.
“Six months later I ceased to be human,” he said, the words feeling foreign coming out of his mouth despite being the truth.
Ada cocked her head to one side and studied him, not like he was a monster, but like he was a puzzle to be figured out. “What did you become?”
“Have you ever heard of the Erelim?”
“Sorry, I don’t really get into that whole paranormal scene. I’ve watched maybe two episodes of Supernatural, and that pretty much sums up my mythical knowledge.”
Joshua smiled at the reference to the television show the Alpha Pack liked to dissect on a regular basis. “We don’t actually get much play on the whole paranormal or urban fantasy scene,” he said. “We’re more on the spiritual side of things.”
“Spiritual?”
“Heavenly even.”
“Heavenly?” Ada’s eyebrows crinkled in confusion and then she sputtered out a giggle. “You want me to believe you’re an angel?”
“No. Not at all. My life would probably go much more smoothly if you don’t believe a word I say.” All true, except for the part where he didn’t want her to believe. “I’m just telling you that I’m an Erelim, one of the warriors of heaven. It’s your choice whether or not you believe me.”
Ada slowly shook her head. “No, that’s…” She turned her face to the stars as if looking for an answer in the constellations. “Angels aren’t real,” she said to the heavens.
There was only a few feet between them. It wasn’t necessary for Joshua to move closer, but he did simply because he liked being near her. Once there was only one plank of wood separating them, he reached over and tilted her head back down so she was looking at him.
“I’m real.”
“And you’re an angel?”
Joshua took his fingers from her chin, but she didn’t break eye contact. “I’m an Er’el, but most people refer to us as Immortals.”
“Er’el.” Ada tested the feel of the word on her tongue. “And you will never die?”
“Never.” There was one way, of course, but he would never do it. He made that promise to himself and God a long time ago, and it was an oath he would not break. “Until the end of days, I will exist.”
But not necessarily live, a part of him whispered. Existing and living are two very different things. Even people with a limited number of years on this earth find themselves existing long after their life has gone.
“I want to tell you you’re crazy, but I think I’m the one who needs a psych evaluation, because I believe you.”
Years ago Joshua had first told Jase and Talley, and later the rest of the Alpha Pack, who and what he was. It was the first time he’d shared the truth of his existence with anyone, and the entire time he’d been second-guessing himself, running through a series of worst-case scenarios and coming up with plans for how to handle them. Eventually he started to enjoy being out of the supernatural closet. It was comforting to be around people with whom he didn’t have to pretend. But it had taken a long time, years even, to get to that point.
He’d only told Ada minutes ago, and there was still the very real chance this would come back to bite him on the ass, but all he could think about was how good it felt to tell someone. For someone to see him as he truly was.
Not just someone, but Ada.
Joshua had lived through too much to cower from anything in the world, his feelings included. There wasn’t any point in denying it. He had a bunch of warm and fuzzy feelings where Ada was concerned. It wasn’t just that her cheeks reminded him of two perfect little apples when she smiled or that he couldn’t look at her lips without thinking about kissing them. It was in her matter-of-fact approach to everything. It was the way she didn’t back down, even when everyone was telling her she was wrong. And most importantly, it was in the way she was still sitting beside him, looking back at him not with repulsion or fear, but tenderness and understanding.
“You’re staring at me,” she said, and he realized he most certainly was. He could have turned away then. He probably should have, but he didn’t.
“I find looking at you very enjoyable.”
A splash of red colored her cheeks.
“I have a boyfriend.”
“I know,” Joshua said. “That is why I’m sitting here thinking about kissing you instead of actually doing it.”
Chapter 7
Immortal.
Ada had no idea what she’d been expecting when she confronted Joshua, but that wasn’t it.
Nothing can kill me. I can’t die.
She tried to wrap her mind around it, but it was impossible. Everyone dies. Some when they’re young, and others when they’re old, but eventually everyone dies.
Everyone except Joshua.
It was impossible, yet she believed him. The evidence was too strong. His bullet wound was less than twenty-four-hours old, but it was nearly healed. And that picture was definitely old and definitely him. No one else on earth looked like Joshua. She was sure of it.
If he wasn’t lying, if he really was an Immortal, what did it mean? The no dying part was obvious, but was he serious about that whole God’s warrior stuff? Was he really an angel?
I ceased to be human.
No, that part she wasn’t buying. The no dying and healing overnight stuff she could somewhat get behind, but not the God stuff. He might be something other than human, but that didn’t make him an angel. Vampires made more sense than angels.
Ada did the math in her head and figured Joshua had to be older than her grandparents. She tried to imagine him complaining about the Cardinals’ batting average with her Papa Jessup or waging war on the moles digging up his yard like her Pops. She pictured him sitting on the porch, the long legs he would never grow into propped up on the rail as he talked about how kids in his time respected their parents and didn’t go out tattooing themselves up and dyeing their hair all these weirdo colors. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make the image work. She couldn’t see Joshua as an old man. It wasn’t just the way he looked. It was the way he talked. The way he moved.
The way he looked at her.
A slow warmth spread from her stomach to the tips of her toes at the memory of his eyes locked on hers under the light of a million stars. She’d felt something in that moment, a pull toward this strange boy with impossible powers. He wanted to kiss her, and she wan
ted to let him. Knowing she would be cheating on Marsden was the only thing holding her back, and even then she might have caved if he’d made a move.
In her mind, she went back to the dock, and this time she let it happen. She let him lean in and brush his lips softly against hers. Her whole body shot up in flames as she imagined how his mouth would feel. She’d never kissed anyone but Marsden, and while she’d always enjoyed their kisses, something told her she would like Joshua’s even more.
And this is why you are a horrible, bad person. Nice girls don’t think about kissing people who aren’t their boyfriend. Her hand automatically drifted to the phone lying in the passenger’s seat. And they probably respond to any of the fifteen text messages their boyfriend sent them.
She hadn’t texted Marsden back since Kathy came in and started talking about the Donovans and the shirt she’d found. After that, she’d been too consumed with thoughts about confronting Joshua to bother checking her phone. Once she did, the number of texts were too overwhelming. She’d thumbed through them and saw the dreaded “we need to talk” at least twice and decided it was a conversation better suited for the light of day. Unfortunately, as she pulled into her parent’s driveway, she realized that wasn’t going to be an option.
She checked the time on her dashboard, and then double-checked it against her phone.
What on earth was Marsden still doing at her house at two-thirty in the morning?
The dread she’d felt when she saw his car turned into outright panic when she noticed all the lights on in the house. She both wanted to run in as fast as she could to make sure everything was okay and walk slowly so she could put off the inevitable as long as possible. Because even though she had no idea what was going on, she knew whatever happened when she walked through that door would change everything forever.
“Hello?” she called out as she opened the front door. She’d come through the same door a million times before in her life, it was her home, but suddenly it felt like she was intruding.
“Ada?” Her father came out of the kitchen, still in his suit and tie. “Do you care to tell me where you’ve been, young lady?”
“I’ve been at work,” Ada said. She could see Marsden and her mother both sitting at the kitchen table. Her mother had her hands wrapped around a cup of coffee. Tell-tale lines of worry bracketed her mouth. Marsden’s left leg was bouncing up and down so rapidly she could see the table tremble. “I talked to you before I left. You said it was okay.”
She couldn’t imagine what had transformed him from the proud father of a “good Christian woman” to being so angry a blood vessel in his temple was following the same tempo as Marsden’s leg. Reverend Jessup wasn’t a violent man, but Ada worried he might try to strangle her if she stood too close.
“You got off work over two hours ago.”
“I—“
A finger shot up in front of her face. “Don’t you dare lie to me and say you had to work over. I called. I know you left there at midnight.” Every statement was emphasized with sharp jab of his finger. Even though it was still a good foot from her nose, she flinched every time it came hurtling toward her. “Now, tell me where you’ve been.”
“I went to see the Donovans,” she said, knowing the best way to lie was to stick as close to the truth as possible. “I wanted to thank them for helping me last night.”
The finger dropped, but her father’s eyes were still skeptical and angry. “At midnight?”
“They were awake. Jase called down to the desk right before I got off.” She inwardly flinched, wishing she’d chosen another Donovan. Her father had never been fond of Jase since he had a way of making sin look like a fun and exciting option. “Angel was even awake when I got there,” she said, attempting to salvage the story by including her father’s favorite member of the Donovan clan. “We started talking, and I didn’t realize how late it had gotten. I’m sorry if I worried you.” Not that they’d ever noticed when she’d came home from work before. Typically her parents were in bed by the time the news came on every night.
It wasn’t like she’d forgotten Marsden was there, but still she was somewhat startled and perplexed to hear him say, “You didn’t answer my texts.”
“Because I was at work.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
True, but it was a much better excuse than, I was too busy thinking about another guy to bother with you.
Reverend Jessup was still standing between Ada and the kitchen, but she was starting to feel a little ridiculous standing in the foyer, so she made a move to slide around him and join her mother and Marsden. At first she thought he was going to block her, but then he moved to the side and let her pass. She could feel him following at her back as she walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.
“Is this because I was in the hospital last night?” she asked. “I promise you, it was nothing. I really didn’t even need to be there. And Dorian took a swing at a cop, so he’s not going to be around for awhile, which means no more crazy parties to break up. I’m healthy and safe. Promise.”
Her mother looked at her father, her father looked at Marsden, and Marsden became fascinated with the pattern of the quilt her mother used as a tablecloth.
“Ada, darling, maybe you should come and sit down,” her mother said in the sugary-sweet way of hers that drove Ada to thoughts of matricide. Since everything her mother did was sugary-sweet, they were thoughts she entertained often.
Overriding the part of her wanting to stand on principle, Ada took the seat opposite Marsden. Her father took his normal spot at the head of the table. He steepled his fingers and pressed them against his mouth as he studied her for a long moment. She knew better than to say anything. It was his considering-the-argument stance, and to interrupt it meant hearing the harsh words he was currently trying to soften with fatherly concern and patience.
“Marsden came to see me tonight,” he finally said and a snowball of dread formed in the pit of Ada’s stomach. “He said he needed the counsel of his pastor because of a sin he recently committed. Can you guess as to the nature of that sin, Ada?”
Ada closed her eyes and tried wishing herself out of this situation. How could Marsden go to her father and tell him what they had done? She didn’t know it was possible to feel this betrayed.
“Ada, answer the question.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you know what the Bible says about fornication?”
“Yes, sir.” Her face threatened to burst into actual flames while ice water flowed through her veins.
“And about leading another to sin?”
Her eyes snapped open. “What?”
“‘Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in Me to stumble, it would be better for him to have a heavy millstone hung around his neck, and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.’ Matthew 18:6.”
This had to be a misunderstanding. Surely her father hadn’t meant—
She met his eyes and all hope died. He did mean her. She was the person deserving a millstone and death at sea.
“I didn’t… It was… I mean we…” She thought she might cry, and then realized there were already tears streaming down her face. “It wasn’t like that,” she finally got out. “I didn’t rape him, for God’s sake.”
Her mother’s whispered, “Forgive her, Jesus” was nearly drowned out by her father’s “Ada Pearl Jessup” said at a volume sure to wake up the neighbors.
In that moment, Ada hated Marsden with every fiber of her being.
Okay, so she had completely misinterpreted his attempts to get her alone so they could talk, and maybe she should have realized Mr. Super Christian was feeling some guilt over what they had done, but a lot of crap had gone down in the last thirty-six hours. It’s true that she’d pushed Marsden down to the very bottom of her priority list, but that hardly gave him the right to tell her parents what they had done. And it certainly didn’t excuse him for sticking around to see the furor his co
nfession caused. He knew better than anyone the way her father felt the need to perform for others. This lecture wouldn’t be coming from her father, but from Reverend Jessup, Timber’s most well-known fire-and-brimstone-loving preacher.
If only there was a vat of fire and brimstone for her to shove Marsden in.
“I expected better from you,” her father continued, almost as if he could see her vision of Marsden screaming in agony. “If you only knew the depth of disappointment your mother and I feel.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” And she was. Not for what he wanted her to be sorry about, but she did feel bad about disappointing her parents. Living the life she wanted for herself without upsetting them was the Herculean task that defined who she was. Ada Jessup, the girl who wanted to live life to its fullest and make her parents proud.
She was doomed from the start.
Reverend Jessup reached over and swallowed her fists with one of his hands. “Marsden is going forward Sunday morning during worship services. You’re going to go with him. When you’ve asked the Lord and the congregation for their forgiveness, then we can start talking about where we can go from here.”
Ada tried to imagine it. The long, agonizing walk up the aisle. Little old ladies would be poking their neighbor in the side and pointing at her until the entire congregation was watching her processional and wondering what she could possibly be doing. And then she would stand in front of half the residents of Timber and ask them to judge her for having sex with her boyfriend of three years. And judge her they would. To her face, they would remark on her bravery and tell her she would be in their prayers, and then they would gather with their friends after the service and talk about how the preacher’s daughter was nothing more than a slut.
“No.” She was almost as surprised as her parents to hear to word echoing off the kitchen walls. “I won’t do it.”
Infinite Harmony Page 6