Chapter Twelve
Emma
After Sabrina leaves, I stand in the cold, thinking about her final warning. Could she be right? Would the hounds kill me if they found what they are after? There’s no doubt in my mind now that something unearthly is going on. But why did it have to happen in my parent’s backyard?
A light breeze ruffles my hair. The chill of the autumn night makes me shiver. I turn to go back into the house, but when I hear a whimper come from the shed, I pause. Guilt overpowers my fear when I hear Kayson’s pain. I try mustering up an excuse not to go back, but when he whimpers again, I roll my eyes and curse the night air. Turning back around, I take a deep breath, which I hold, and open the door. Kayson has his eyes closed tightly as he clutches his side in pain. When he hears me come in, he opens his eyes and tries to hide the pain.
“Have you seen Sabrina?” Kayson asks, looking past me.
“She left. She didn’t give me any details.” It’s not like I cared anyway. I don’t understand why the vampire dislikes me so much, but if she is going to be a stuck up priss, so was I. “How are you feeling?” Kayson’s gold blood, odd to think about, is still seeping through his bandages and running down his chest.
Enraptured by his firm beauty, I lose my train of thought. Although his chest is covered in bandages, his sculptured muscles are still in view. His tight arms, flexing with the pain, catch my eye, and the temperature in my body rises.
“Don’t be fooled by this body. Humans are naturally attracted to our bodies. We are physically perfect, and you receive positive sensations from our pure nature. What you are feeling now is just a false reaction.” I blush at being caught staring and avert my gaze. How does he know I am attracted to him? And what if it isn’t a false attraction?
From the small amount of time I’ve spent with Kayson, I can tell he is a kind spirit. He’s easy on the eyes too. Qualities most girls go after. “Let me look at your wounds.” I stay focused on cleaning his injuries, thinking about my nursing skills, not his fine sculpted body.
I unwrap the bandages around his torso to reveal the wounds on his side and across his chest. I let out a small whistle. “Wow, something really tore into you.”
Kayson lets go of a small chuckle. “Well, that is the hell hound’s forte.” He looks up at me with hooded eyes. “I’m sorry if I seemed short a moment ago. I’m just worried about Sabrina and the mess she could get herself into.”
A wave of jealousy washes over me when Kayson mentions Sabrina. “Have you two been together long?” Not that I understand the logistics of a vampire and fallen angel being together. But hey, to each his own. I just figure Kayson might fit better with someone more open, with a kind spirit like him, instead of a cold, distant creature like Sabrina.
“Not too long. She found me in the woods not long after I was attacked by the hound.” My jealousy resides just a bit. So they aren’t “together” together. They just share a common enemy. I don’t know why I care anyway. Before Kayson arrived, boyfriends or eye candy were the last thing on my mind. Plus, what did he say? If my feelings existed they were false anyway. So it’s not like he would give me a shot.
Examining Kayson’s wounds, I conclude that he needs stitches. “You really need to see a doctor. Someone’s gotta sew you up.”
Kayson shakes his head, “I can’t. I can’t reveal the angels’ existence to the general public. You alone are dangerous enough, but I trust you. Do you know what they would do to me if they were face-to-face with a real, live angel?”
Kayson has a point. Human researchers would dissect him.
It doesn’t change the fact that his gashes need to be closed. “We have another option, but not one I’m too keen on. I can sew them. I’ve never done it before but I’ve watched plenty of other people do it.”
Kayson chuckles as he gives me a humorous glance. “You want me to allow you to stitch me, although you’ve never done it before?”
“Well, it’s either that or you bleed to death. I know I’m not a good option but at least I am one.”
Kayson’s expression tells me he’s doubtful, but with a nod, agrees anyway.
“I have to go get my mom’s sewing kit. I’ll be back.” I leave the shed and run across the backyard. The air is still heavy with that eerie feeling that’s been lingering since Falon came to the house.
I run upstairs to my mother’s room and grab her small sewing kit she keeps in her night table. Descending back down the stairs, I take a quick peek at Briston. He’s sleeping soundlessly in the chair. Now I wish I hadn’t told him about what is going on, whether or not he really believed me. Now he may be in danger too. Why hadn’t I thought that by telling him, I might be putting him in danger? How could I have been so reckless?
No matter how much I cursed myself, I know nothing can be done about it now. The only thing I can do is try to protect Briston. And that is something I know I will go to great lengths to do.
Turning from Briston’s peaceful face, I head out the back door. I keep quiet as best as I can as I run back across the yard and enter the shed. When I enter, Kayson’s smoldering blue eyes meet mine. God he’s gorgeous. This is the strongest false feeling ever. I get lost in my thoughts for a moment as I stand there admiring him. When he clears his throat, I blush and rush over to his side, regaining my composure, or at least what I can muster of it.
I take out the thread and needle, preparing them to stitch up his skin. My hands start to shake just a bit as I focus on the reality of what I’m about to do. I try hiding it, but Kayson sees me tremble. He places his hand on mine, and looking at me with intense eyes, he says, “I trust you, Emma. Don’t be nervous.”
Yeah, okay, that helped on a zero level. His intent gaze is enough to make anyone tremble.
Taking a deep breath, I nod with false confidence and try steadying my hand over his wound. Holding my breath, I push the needle through his smooth skin, right beside the gash. Once the needle’s through, I’m able to breathe. The act of what I’m doing becomes a little easier to grasp. If this is what I am planning on doing for the rest of my life, I might as well get used to it. Dread covers my mind as I think about my future. I don’t want to do this for a living. This is gross. But, what other options do I have. That’s right, none.
Kayson is stiff as a board as I work the needle back and forth, sealing up his battle wounds. “So how did you end up here?” Conversation will help him take his mind off the needle working through his skin, and will also help calm my nerves just a bit.
“Here on earth, or here as in your shed?”
Ha, angels have a sense of humor. Who knew? “Both.” I hadn’t actually been thinking about his fall from Heaven but now that he brought it up, I’m curious.
“My story is rather long.” Kayson says evasively. Good thing I’m not one to be deterred by someone who’s uncomfortable.
“Well from the looks of it buddy, we’re going to be here a while.” I keep working the thread, hoping that Kayson will tell me his story. If I’m going to be hostess to a fallen angel and his side-kick vampire friend, the least I deserve is a little back story.
“Like I’ve told you before, I was an angel of the lower realm in Heaven. In my assembly, I was the healer. Kind of ironic, considering,” Kayson gestures to his battered body with a grimace before continuing. “Anyway, Falon, the hound that visited your house tonight, was the Warrior of my assembly. We fell on the same day, but for different reasons. Falon had turned dark and wanted to see bloodshed. That is not the way of God.
“Falon turned away from God and was cast out of Heaven. My reason for falling… was different from Falon’s.” Kayson stops and turns his head away as I close the first gash with a knot, and get ready to tackle the next one.
After a few moments without saying anything, I give Kayson a push to continue. “So why did you fall?”
He looks unwilling to answer. I’m almost sure he’s not going to answer me, but in a hushed tone he continues. “I lost my faith. There were t
hings I didn’t agree with. I started questioning those issues. Because of my doubt and reluctance to follow our mission, I fell.”
“How is that different from what Falon thought?” I ask. If Falon fell because he questioned God and wanted to change the mission, and Kayson did the same, I don’t really see the difference.
“Falon wanted bloodshed, I didn’t. But I still wanted some things to change.”
Kayson looks toward the door, perhaps wondering where Sabrina is.
“What things?”
Kayson looks from the door. “There were just some views that I didn’t agree with.”
I notice Kayson’s evasiveness but I don’t push him this time. His fall is obviously something that weighs heavily on his mind.
“Okay, so how did you end up in Utah?” Falling from Heaven was one thing, but to end up in this small town, that’s really got me puzzled. He had to have seen the awesome cities from up above. If I was going to fall, I would request placement in Paris. Or maybe the Bahamas.
“I was searching around the world for something.”
“That’s a bit vague.” Kayson is starting to seem like a very closed-off person. Sure, he’s nice, but when it comes to talking about his life, he disappears.
I continue to stitch Kayson up as silence falls on us. Once I’m finished with his chest, I help him sit up so I can get a look at his back. When I see the injuries, I step back. I had got a small glimpse of his scars earlier, but they had been obscured by the bandages. Now, they are fully exposed.
I run my finger over the jagged bones that poke past his skin. Claw marks from the hound that attacked him run diagonally across his scars, the tears going down to the bone. Gold blood is smeared all over his back. I’m mesmerized as I continue to touch his wing scars. Never would I have thought I would get a chance to touch a being that once had wings. A being that just so happens to be a once-upon-a-time angel.
“Are you okay?” Kayson asks through gritted teeth.
Shyly, I look away from the scars as I prepare my needle. “Did it hurt when they took your wings?”
“It didn’t tickle.”
“Ha, ha.” I guess that was a pretty lame question. I bet it hurt like hell.
Once I’m finished stitching up his back, I re-wrap his wounds, then move on to check his leg. He winces when I touch his knee and shin. His leg is swollen. I can feel the heat radiating off his leg through his jeans. “Is it broken?”
Kayson, no matter how much he tries to hide it, continues to wince. “Yes. But Sabrina set it.” I wince myself at the thought of how much pain that probably had caused him.
“Well it feels like she did a good job.” Now that Kayson is all bandaged back together, now he just needs time to heal. Speaking of healing.
“So you’re an ex-angel right?”
Kayson’s face becomes grim when I mention the word “ex.” Reminders do suck.
“Fallen.”
He says it with just as much grim severity in his voice as is expressed on his face. I wave off the comment.
“Technicality. I want to know why you aren’t healing, you know, super-fast. I mean aren’t supernatural beings and such supposed to self-heal at rapid speed?”
“It’s different for the fallen. When we fall, we lose all our powers, including the power to heal ‘at rapid speed,’ as you say.”
Satisfied that his leg is in the best condition it can be to heal, I unfold the quilt that has splotches of his blood on it, and cover him up.
“Well that seems a bit crappy.”
“It is a fair price for betraying our God.”
Kayson looks up with sadness. I’m sure he’s thinking about what all he has lost.
I place my hand on his shoulder, offering my sympathy. “I’m sorry for what happened to you Kayson. You don’t seem like the kind of person who would lose faith.”
A small smile plays across Kayson’s face, then he turns those smoldering blue eyes on me. “Thank you, Emma. You are a kind soul.” He places his hand over mine. It sends a thrill of pleasure up my arm.
I hold his gaze a moment more, lost in thoughts of being held in his embrace for eternity, before clearing my throat and backing away.
“I’m going to let you get some rest. I’ll come check on you in the morning before I leave.”
“Thank you.” I turn to leave, but Kayson stops me. “Emma, why is this room arranged this way?” He gestures around himself, settling his gaze on the red canvas painting on the wall. “It is as if someone once lived here.”
I grimace as I look at the painting Kayson is gesturing to. That was the last painting my brother did before leaving us all behind. I hate that stupid painting. It will always remind me of the note my brother left with it. Looking away from the picture, I suddenly find the floor very interesting.
“Tate, my brother, lived in here.”
“Why?” Kayson asks the one question I didn’t want to answer or discuss. Should I answer his question? He did answer mine but I know Kayson didn’t give me the whole story. Walking over to the chair my parents bought just for Tate, I plop down.
“Tate used to be your average Joe, football quarterback, fun guy to be around.” A smile breaks across my face as the memory of Tate’s biggest accomplish comes to mind. “He also received art scholarships from some of the best schools in the US.” I drop my head and my voice along with it. “That all changed. Tate became quiet and distant. He would always have this look of loss on his face. I tried talking to him, but unlike the brother who would listen to my problems or stories all night long; he became the brother who didn’t care. He kept pushing and pushing me away. Not just me but everyone.”
A tear falls down my face as I think about the hateful looks he would give me whenever we saw each other. He would insult me for no reason. Tate had become a stranger to me. I lost the brother who would joke around and chauffer his little sister around no matter what his buddies said. I missed that brother. The one that I knew had my back.
Clearing my throat, I continue. “One night I got fed up and told him to get out. My parents tried to cover up my outburst like they always did; they did that a lot, tip-toeing around Tate. Anyway, Tate looked relieved when I told him to get out and said it was a fabulous idea. But with no money, and my parents insisting he stay…” I gesture at the room. “…voila, he got an apartment in his parents backyard shed. Ah, the goals of life.”
Kayson looks intent, like my story really does interest him. That look reminds me a lot of Briston. Set on listening to me, with no other thoughts filtering through his mind. I have always been grateful to Briston for being such a good listener, but he is my best friend; it’s kind of his job. Kayson, on the other hand, has no such obligation. He’s just listening because he is that kind of guy. The kind that actually cares.
“Do you know what made your brother change so rapidly?”
I shake my head and wipe away my tears. “I don’t think anyone does. Life had been great for him. He had just received news about his art scholarships, and went away for the weekend to an art exhibit in Seattle. When he came back, he was…different. As the days passed, he got worse.”
Kayson looks away with an expression like he’s lost in thought. “There are things in this world that can turn a person’s life completely around, whether they know it’s happening or not.”
Okay, what’s that supposed to mean?
“Where is your brother now?” he asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. He bailed on us a little over a year ago. Bailed with not only all our parents’ money he could get a hold of, and mine as well, but also my mother’s jewelry and anything else of value he could get his hands on, including the keys to my dad’s new Tundra. Luckily for dad, the police found his truck abandoned at the airport in Salt Lake City. Too bad they didn’t find a big duffel bag full of money and a note full of apologies.”
I turn my attention to the painting Kayson had indicated earlier. “This was the last painting he did before he left. Atta
ched to it was some lame note that said, ‘I’m sorry but I don’t belong here. Please keep this painting in remembrance of your lost son.’ How pathetic is that?” I had wanted to tear the stupid painting apart when I found it, but my parents, being the crazy loving people they are, put the stupid picture up on display like Tate asked.
“I know your brother made you angry, but give it some time. Things have a way of working themselves out, and when they do, light will illuminate the truth of things.” Kayson offers me a small smile, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. I suppose angels are supposed to talk like that.
Having had enough small talk for one night, I rise from my seat. “I hope your right, but in my book he’s still an asshat.” Kayson keeps smiling as I back out the shed door. I prop the rock back up against the door, knowing that Kayson won’t be able to get up and lock it.
When I turn, my heart skips a beat then begins pounding rapidly, as I’m surprised by a wet, pissed-off Sabrina standing right behind me.
“Jeez, do that again and you won’t have to worry about draining me dry. A nice heart attack will take care of me.” I clutch my chest. Yeah, because that’s easing the race my heart is trying to win.
“Who ever said I was worried about draining you dry?” Sabrina says with a smug look on her face. She looks past me at the shed door. “How is he?”
Her fear for Kayson’s safety is obvious. For two people who just recently met, they sure do worry about one another a lot. And aren’t they supposed to be mortal enemies? None of this is making sense, but it doesn’t stop my jealousy from spiking.
“Still healing. It’s sad that he lost his powers when he fell.”
Sabrina nods in agreement but doesn’t say anything. Noting her bedraggled appearance, I’m intrigued to know what happened. “So, you try giving drowning a shot?”
Sabrina stares coolly back at me. “Why, need some pointers?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I try mustering up an ounce of cool, biting back my retort I have ready on my lips. A truce has to be made between Sabrina and me if we are going to be in each other’s proximity.
Broken Faith: Spiritual Discord, 1 Page 11