“She’s… she’s…” Jake couldn’t find the words.
Sariel walked up to them with his head hung low. “I’m so sorry Alice, Camille didn’t make it.”
The two of them collapsed in hysterics together. The cruel moon, knowing, watching over them.
Sariel drove Alice home. She fought it as much as she could but Jake threw her in her car and demanded she go home. She was silent the entire ride staring out the window, glaring at the moon, blaming God.
“I truly am sorry,” Sariel said as they pulled into the driveway.
“Please, just don’t.”
“I’ll bring your car back tomorrow.”
She tried to thank him for the ride, but she couldn’t. She was upset, she was angry and most of all, she was helpless. She waited until Sariel left during her slow walk to her door, and as soon as he was out of sight, she collapsed to the ground.
Cole rushed out the door, clutching his chest. The more their bond grew, the more they could feel one another’s pain. “Alice!” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her into the house.
“Vodka,” she whispered with a hoarse voice.
“Alice,” he said lifting her head up to him, “No vodka. Talk to me. Sit with me, but don’t drink it away.”
“I love you, but I deal with things my way. Get me the vodka, or I will get it myself.”
He argued but lost; she knew he would cave. He returned with the vodka and a glass and handed them to her. “Anything I can do?”
“Can you give me a little while to myself, to process?” His eyes showed the hurt that caused him. “Let me take a shower, then we can talk, or sit or whatever.”
“Okay, Alice.” He stood up and went outside.
Alice climbed the stairs which felt like they went on for miles. She carried the bottle of vodka with her; leaving the cap with the glass on the kitchen table. She turned the water on and peeled off her tank top. That was all she could muster, this was all too familiar. She knew in that moment who or what had killed her best friend; it was too much to bear. She chugged as much of the bottle as she could until she had to stop to breathe. Her eyes flooded as the memories of her own attack mixed with Camille’s demise. She mostly fell into the shower where she stayed smashed against the tile, crying, clutching the bottle.
Outside, Cole breathed in the cool air of murder. He was furious at everything and everyone. Alice had been through enough. Neither of them asked for any of this. His chest felt like it was strangling him, which only broke his heart. Alice was in so much pain, and though he wrapped his numbing shield around her, it did no good for her emotional turmoil. He heard a loud thump from the house and ran back in and up the stairs.
He entered the bathroom to find Alice crumpled on the floor of the shower, mostly clothed, clutching a half empty fifth of vodka. He wanted to save her, but all he could do was climb in and lift her head away from the water and rest it on his lap. She sobbed on him for an hour after the water ran cold. Shivering and broken, he held her until she was ready to get out.
When she finally let go of the bottle and stopped crying, it was only because she finally passed out from exhaustion. Cole lifted her up and set her on the edge of the bed. He carefully removed her soaking wet clothes and put her in one of his T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. He tucked her into bed and covered her with their comforter.
I love you. And I will get the son of a bitch who did this, he promised. He knew wherever she was in her dreaming state, she heard him. He left the room only to change into dry sweat pants and he climbed into the bed pulling her close to him, where he could protect her. He stared out the window at the cold dark sky; and even he was angry with God.
It had been three days since the accident that took Camille from Alice, from them all. The funeral was the following day, closed casket, for obvious reasons. Cole sat at the kitchen table, devising a plan to find the bounty hunter who had killed Camille. It was difficult for him to block the thoughts from all of the Fallen or from Alice, though it had become much easier after Alice had learned to block them all from her turmoil. He didn’t know which was worse, Alice’s emotional suffering or that she was blocking him from her thoughts and feelings. Her completely shutting him out tore through his soul and shattered his heart. All he could do was sit alone and think of vengeance.
She had not left the bed since the night he had tucked her in. He checked on her many times throughout the day, offering her food but he was rejected without even a response, the majority of the time. At night he would lay with her in his lap, running a hand down her back gently, to soothe her. The effort was pointless, but it was all he had to give that she allowed. Muffled sobs would pour out of her, soaking his clothes, until she eventually passed out from exhaustion. He would refuse to move until she woke and curled herself away from him.
Paul and Kokabiel had come over the day prior with groceries, hoping to get her to eat something, to eat anything. They all knew who had killed Camille, and no one had an appetite for anything but revenge. Cole considered going to Jake to ask if he wanted to join him on his hunt after the funeral, but that idea was crushed when Kokabiel told him Jake had also not left his bed in days. The heartbreak of Camille’s death didn’t end there; it echoed through all the lives she had touched. Max offered the bar for her wake but her snobby parents politely refused. He decided to have it anyway for those she truly called friends, her chosen family.
Cole buried his head in his hands, grabbing handfuls of hair in frustration. He didn’t even know if he could get Alice out of bed for the funeral. He couldn’t get her to look at him. His despair was interrupted by a soft knock on the front door. Kokabiel entered cautiously and sat at the other end of the table.
“She still hasn’t gotten out of bed, has she?” Kokabiel asked.
“No. Jake?”
“No. She’s still blocking us, I see.”
They sat together silently; Cole had no response. His thoughts alone were killing him. He felt that he should have known everything was going too well and should have expected some sort of repercussion. After all, they were all against God, regardless of whether they chose to be or not.
“I assume you plan to try to get her to go to the funeral. I picked up an appropriate dress and shoes. They’re in the car. No need to fuel an excuse not to attend.”
Cole only nodded. He was too concerned with figuring out how to track the bounty hunters. Kokabiel studied him intently for a few moments.
“Son, why are you blocking me?”
“I’m not.”
“No need to lie. I’ve been around a long time, Cole. What is it you don’t want me to know?” Kokabiel asked curiously.
“I don’t want Paul to know, or anyone, for that matter.” Cole considered his options. His father could possibly provide the intel he needed to succeed. “I don’t want anyone to get in my way.”
“I won’t stand in your way.”
I’m going to hunt down the bounty hunter who killed Camille, and, to put it simply, send him to the abyss. Cole directed his thoughts at his father.
“Definitely do not tell Penemue, Paul,” Kokabiel sighed. You must be careful after the warning Alice received from her mother.
“Of course. I have no intention of being careless.”
They sat in the stillness of the room, listening to the tick of Kokabiel’s watch for hours. Time was slowly moving toward the funeral at 10:00 A.M. the next morning. Eventually Kokabiel headed home to check on Jake and prepare for the funeral.
Cole climbed the stairs with weighted feet. He stood outside the door with his head hanging low. It wasn’t that he loved her any less, but he wondered, how could she not know this is killing me too? He didn’t block it from her; she was doing plenty of that for the both of them. He reluctantly entered the room and changed into his sweat pants. Before climbing in to bed, he stared at her soft face. It was the closest he had seen to her looking peaceful, her being passed out from exhaustion. He pulled her into his arms and she
snuggled into his chest. At least in your sleep you need me, he thought.
Alice opened her eyes slowly in an attempt to adjust to the bright sunlight beaming through her window. Her arms reached across her bed but knew Cole wouldn’t be there. She didn’t blame him. She turned to her clock to see it was 8:00 A.M. Her memory rang true that today was Camille’s funeral. She wanted to go, but she couldn’t. It was too hard, too painful. A glass of water sat next to the alarm clock and a piece of toast. Her stomach growled, begging her to take just one bite. She glared at the toast; how could she eat when Camille would never eat again?
She sat up slowly, wobbling from the lack of nutrition and dehydration she was enduring. She picked up the glass and drank half of it. She then picked up the toast and devoured it, topping it off with the rest of the water. Amazingly, she felt full, as if she just eaten a three course meal - full and guilty. Voices grew louder downstairs, but it sounded like pieces of the conversation were missing. She had used almost all of her energy in blocking everyone out, even Cole. She slowly dropped the wall to hear the missing pieces of the mumbled conversation.
We can’t force her to go, Paul said forcefully.
She will regret not going for the rest of her life, Cole added with sorrow in his voice.
I couldn’t get Jake out of bed either, I tried, but he wouldn’t even respond to me, Kokabiel said.
She wanted to throw the wall back up and not hear anymore, but a part of her cried for Jake. He had become a friend, almost a brother, to her, and he was hurting as much, if not more, than she was. Something deep within her brought her to her feet. She put on her boots and tied her hair back into a ponytail. She shouldn’t go out in public wearing Cole’s T-shirt and boxers, but she didn’t give a damn.
She opened her door, and the chatter from the kitchen ceased as they all held their breath. She knew they would never let her out of their sight. She inhaled as deeply as she could, feeling the air around her grow still as she emerged from the stairway into the kitchen. Each was frozen like a statue the way she had done before when she escaped the angel who came to kill her. This was different; she could see each of her family with such sadness pouring off all of them. She felt she may exhale at any moment, allowing time to unfreeze as her body fought for fresh air. Without another thought, she ran past them, grabbed her keys and flew out of the door. She slammed it behind her as she awkwardly ran to her car and dove inside. She exhaled as she started the car and choked on the air. She threw the car into drive and looked back through the rearview mirror to see her family pile out of the house, staring in confusion. She stepped on the gas and took off.
Alice flew into a parking spot in front of Jake’s apartment. The emotions that she had blocked out, along with everyone else’s, were flooding back - the sadness, the hurt, the anger. She jumped out of her car and walked up to the front door, and without a thought or a care, she kicked Jake’s door open. She stared for a moment in shock. She thought she was entirely too weak to do that, yet she wasn’t an average human, so she should have known better.
“Jake?” She yelled into the apartment. She entered his darkened bedroom to find him lying partially in the bed, with beer and liquor bottles all around the bed.
“Jake, get up!” she demanded. She waited, but he didn’t respond. She tore the blinds from the window and pulled him into a seated position.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he screamed, blinded by the light.
“I’m doing what you need me to do.”
“I need you to go away,” he growled.
“We have to go to Camille’s funeral.”
“Not me.” His voice shook.
“Yes Jake, you. I did not pull myself out of bed, defy my family and drive over here for you to tell me no. Now get up.”
“No,” he spat.
“You want it the hard way? I’ll give it to you.”
He glared at her and rolled back into the bed, pulling the covers over his face. Alice ripped the covers off of him and grabbed his arm again. He flicked his arm and threw her across the room into the closet doors.
“You know, Jake, you should take it easy on a girl who hasn’t eaten or been out of bed in days.” His eyes grew wide. She watched him knowingly, as he realized that she was hurting the same way he was.
“I can’t, Alice.”
“I’m not going to let you regret this decision later. You don’t have a choice.” She walked back over and grabbed his arm again. He tried to throw her, but this time she was more prepared. She grabbed his other arm and dragged him from the bed. He tried to fight but they were both exhausted. She guided him into the shower, clothed in only his boxers, and turned the water on.
“Shit, Alice! The water is freezing.”
She laughed for the first time in days. “Sorry, you weren’t exactly giving me a choice there. Take a shower, I’ll find you something to wear.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing here, but you can’t just manhandle a Fallen and expect him to comply,” he said leaning against the shower wall.
“Oh, Jake, when are you going to learn what I can and cannot do is solely up to me?” They hated to admit it, but in that moment they felt more like themselves again. “Now shower, because if I have to do it for you, I will be the least of your worries. Cole will kill you.” That made Jake laugh. They both felt guilty for laughing in such a horrible situation. Don’t do that, Jake, I feel guilty, too, but we can’t do that to Camille.
“Okay. Now get out.”
Alice left the bathroom and went to Jake’s closet. She pried open the broken door and went through his clothes, pulling out a black dress shirt and slacks. You have dress clothes? Never would have guessed that.
“I can hear you, you know,” Jake shouted from the bathroom.
She chuckled softly as she reached for her phone. “Damn it.” She was wearing boxers and noted that if anyone walked in on them right now, it might get really awkward. She wanted to tell Cole where she was and that she was alright. She sat on the bed, closed her eyes and tried to focus on Cole. Cole?
Alice? Are you okay? Where are you? His voice was trembling.
I am so sorry for leaving like that. I’m at Jake’s. I convinced him to go to the funeral. Can you bring me something to wear and pick us up? I sort of left in… your clothes.
Yeah, I figured that. I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll be there soon. And Alice, please don’t ever do that to me again.
I love you, too. She felt guilty for so many things, but this wasn’t the time for that. She opened her eyes to find Jake in a towel, staring oddly at her.
“What the hell were you doing?”
She stood up and threw his clothes at him. “Talking to Cole.”
“You learned that trick, huh? Well done. You should probably step out while I change. I don’t think I can handle Cole finding you in his clothes, on my bed, with me wearing nothing but a towel.” He smiled a real smile.
It was all she needed. They were both so broken, but she needed him to be strong and he needed her to be. She stepped into the living room and collapsed on the couch, falling asleep instantly.
Kokabiel and Paul climbed into his truck and headed to Jake’s. Cole insisted on driving his own car in case the funeral was too much for either Jake or Alice. It was one of those moments that made him proud to call Cole his son. As they drove, he noticed how quiet Paul was. “What is on your mind, brother?”
“The bounty hunters.”
“What about them?”
“They did this to get to Alice. To show her that they can take everyone she loves. They are planning something and we need to figure out what it is. Humans are nothing to them; this was part of something.”
“Do you think they are working with the angels?”
Paul cringed at the idea.
“Actually, no, I do not, but I fear it may be worse that way.”
Kokabiel pondered his brother’s theories. It seemed that the old, cold Penemue had returned. He was sure Alic
e’s reaction to Camille’s death had reminded him that she could very well be next. Better to shut it off than let it consume you, he thought to himself. Fallen had a habit of indulging in human emotion though it was not necessary or in their nature to do so. They pulled up to the apartment behind Cole. Sariel stepped out of his apartment, puzzled.
“Everything okay?” Sariel asked.
“Peachy. Alice finally got out of bed,” Kokabiel answered.
“That’s good news.”
“She only got out of bed to convince Jake to go the funeral,” Cole added.
“Well, you have to start somewhere,” Sariel said.
They walked up to Jake’s broken door together, Cole holding the boxes of clothing and shoes that Kokabiel had purchased for Alice.
“She did a number on that door for being so… weak.” Kokabiel said with a smile. Paul glared at him, and his smile faded. They entered to find Alice asleep on the couch. Jake walked out, dressed in black slacks and a dress shirt. “You look like an upstanding citizen, Jake.”
“Not that I had a choice. She literally kicked my ass into the shower,” Jake said pointing at Alice. He bumped her leg with his foot, “Wake up, sleeping beauty.” Cole growled in reaction. “Easy, she’s like a sister to me.”
Alice’s eyes opened and noticed a room full of eyes on her. “Uh, hi.” Kokabiel watched his son’s shoulders settle as he knelt down next to her with the boxes.
“Kokabiel bought these for you, so if you hate them, blame him.” Cole said, handing her the boxes.
She opened the box to find an expensive, fitted, black dress, not too low and not too high. The other box had a pair of strappy black dress shoes with a small heel, and a pair of large black sunglasses wedged between them. Kokabiel smiled at her as if she was his own daughter.
“Thank you,” she said as she returned the smile. Everyone was relieved to see that smile.
Alice's Sacrifice (Alice Clark Series) Page 4