by T. R. Hamby
Relief washed over him, and he squeezed her waist. “Thank you.”
She touched his shoulders again, working on the knots, and he moaned a little.
“That’s why you're tense?” she asked. “Because of the killer?”
“Really more because we can’t find him,” he said, closing his eyes as she continued to massage his shoulders. “His victims were found on two different sides of the city.”
“You’re looking for him?”
“Yeah...my brother and I. Remember?”
“Oh, right.”
She was quiet a moment, and he knew she was thinking. “Maybe Facebook?”
Mel opened his eyes and smiled at her. He loved that she was trying to help, even though she still didn’t believe the Angel thing.
“He won’t have a Facebook,” he said, trying to think of the right way to explain. “He’s...transient. All we have is a first name--Ariel.”
She didn’t ask how he knew that, just frowned, thinking.
Mel decided to change the subject, drawing her closer to him. “How are you?”
She smiled. “Good. A little tired,” she added. “I think I’m still adjusting to waking up at nine instead of five. Too much sleep.”
“How long are rehearsals canceled?”
She sighed. “At least another week.” She then smiled again, flushing. “Did you miss me?”
He smirked. “No.”
“Oh, shut up,” she laughed, and he grinned, lifting her off the counter and kissing her. She felt good in his arms, and he loved her laugh.
“How long until our food gets here?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair.
“Long enough,” he replied, already walking them to the bedroom.
They sat on the couch, eating their takeout and talking--about everything. Mel told her about the order of jewels he had picked up in St. Petersburg, and Nora reported on Bezi, who was an interesting character. It was nice--Mel had forgotten what it was like to just talk.
She was wearing his shirt, and her hair was tousled. He liked looking at that, and he was smiling enough at her that she made a face.
“What?” she exclaimed, and he laughed.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a flirt.”
“Can you blame me?” he replied. He longed to impress her again, so he broke open his fortune cookie and read it, aloud--in Mandarin.
She stared at him. “You speak Chinese?”
He couldn’t help but smirk. “Yes.”
“You’re a show-off,” she replied, though she was smiling. “What is that, an Angel thing?”
“Well, when you’re around long enough, you pick up things.”
“I’m sure you’ve picked up lots of things,” she replied wryly.
He assumed she was talking about women, and he smirked. “Perhaps.”
“I bet men can’t resist your charm either,” she continued teasingly.
This time he actually blushed, and she stared, surprised.
“Oh--you’re bisexual?”
He shrugged and nodded, taking a bite of his cookie. He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly so shy. He certainly wasn’t ashamed. But even in this day and age it could still be a sensitive topic, and he didn’t know how she would react.
But she simply smiled tenderly. Then she frowned slightly, playing with her food.
“You’ve really never loved anyone else?” she asked softly.
He looked at her, surprised by the question. He shook his head, and she nodded.
“That’s very loyal of you.”
Mel shrugged. The truth was that he couldn’t love again anyway. He was the first--and only--Angel to love anyone, including a human. He was sure it wouldn’t happen again--it certainly hadn’t in the last 200,000 years.
They were quiet a moment. Nora set her carton aside, stretching her legs and setting her feet in his lap. Mel set his carton down too, relaxing against the couch. He felt better. Nora really was a welcome distraction, even if she brought up difficult questions. But that’s what he liked about her--she was unafraid. She pushed. It was refreshing.
“I was thinking,” she suddenly said, and he looked at her. She was cocking her head, frowning. “You said this guy is transient.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I don’t know how common this is with transients, but--what if he stole someone’s identity? Ariel isn’t a common name in Italy--what if he picked it up in a cemetery? Someone who would be his age now, who had died.”
Mel frowned at her. That was a little off the mark, as he knew Ariel was the Angel’s real name.
Still, he humored her. “Why would he steal someone’s identity?”
“Money,” she said simply. “If he’s not an Italian--I mean, he sounds Spanish--and he’s here illegally, which he could be if he’s transient, then stealing someone’s identity could be a good way to open a bank account, get established.”
“But why would he get established? When he’s only here to kill people?”
“I don’t know why,” she said patiently, “but I bet he is established. You said his victims were found on two different sides of Rome. Sounds like he knows the city.”
Mel considered this. It made sense...to a degree. He may not have stolen someone’s identity, but Nora was right--Ariel may have been on Earth longer than Mel and Michael had thought.
Or maybe he had stolen a human Ariel’s identity...sold some jewelry from Home, deposited it in an account, bought a place to live.
It was possible.
He finally nodded, impressed. “I’ll look into it.”
“Check out cemeteries near where the victims were found,” Nora suggested. “He’s probably comfortable with those areas, even if they’re far apart.”
Mel nodded again. “Thank you.”
She smiled, shrugging.
“Does this mean you believe the Angel thing?”
She made a face. “No.”
“Worth a try.”
She was studying him, her brow furrowed into a look of concern. “Please be careful,” she said softly. “Okay?”
He smiled. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m stronger than him.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t say any more.
Mel suddenly remembered something, and he eased her feet off his lap.
“I have something for you,” he said, getting to his feet and going to his bedroom.
“What?” Nora called, sounding nervous. “Why?”
He retrieved the little pink box from the safe in his closet, and then returned, smirking.
“Don’t worry,” he said, sitting down beside her. “It’s a gift. Nothing more.”
She still looked hesitant, but she took the box, untying the ribbon and opening it. Inside was a ring--a bronze band with a ruby stone. It was a decent size, and glimmered in the firelight.
Nora looked shocked, and Mel cut her off as she opened her mouth to speak.
“I’ve had it for a while,” he said soothingly. “It didn’t cost me anything. Remember, I work in jewelry.”
“Oh, and you just happen to have precious stones just lying around?” she exclaimed.
“Actually, yes,” he replied, shrugging. “I take them home with me sometimes. Work on my own collection.”
She frowned, momentarily distracted. “You make jewelry too?”
He nodded.
“What do you do with it?”
He shrugged again. “Sometimes I sell it--through the company. Most of the time I give it to my friends. Hence your ring.”
She looked at the ring thoughtfully. “You’re very generous,” she said quietly.
He smiled. “I like giving gifts.”
“You like spoiling your lovers,” she said shrewdly, and he felt himself blush again.
She smiled, and slipped the ring on her finger. It fit perfectly--he knew it would--and the stone glowed.
She looked at him, and
there was a strange look on her face--as if he was a puzzle she was trying to solve.
“Thank you,” she said.
He smiled and nodded. “Prego, Angela.”
Mel
200,000 Years Ago
It was almost evening, and Mel and Lilith were standing at the stream. Lilith had a stick in her hand, and she was carefully drawing lines in the dirt. Mel watched, fascinated, as the lines turned into an eye, a nose, and a mouth--and then a face. His face.
He let out a breath. “You’re fantastic,” he said, grinning, and she beamed at him.
“I’ve been practicing,” she replied, straightening. She looked down at her work, cocking her head. “Your eyes are crooked, though.”
“No they’re not. It really looks like me.”
She flushed, and took his hand, squeezing. He felt a thrill, and smiled at her. They had been holding hands a lot lately. Lilith was fascinated with Mel’s hands, touching his smooth palms. Mel was equally fascinated with her hands, which had lines and ridges. He traced the lines, and she giggled, ticklish. Then they had listened to each other’s heartbeats, amazed at the difference.
Now she looked at his hand again, checking to see if anything had changed. She got scrapes and bruises, while he did not, and this intrigued her.
She looked up at him, her brown eyes serious. “Will you die?”
He was slightly taken aback. “No,” he said gently.
She sighed, nodding. “Good.” Then she frowned again. “Will I?”
He felt a pang at the idea. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “I hope not.”
She was quiet a moment, considering the possibility of her own mortality.
She seemed to rid herself of the idea, and brightened.
“Let’s swim,” she said, and she raced to the bank.
He hesitated. They had never swam together before. While she had been naked this whole time, ignorant of modesty, Mel had never removed his clothes, and he worried what would happen if they were naked together.
Lilith didn’t seem to be thinking about this. She waded into the water and looked back at him.
“Come on,” she called, splashing. “It’s lovely.”
He stood on the bank, his heart racing. He knew for certain Father would be angry if he found out about this.
But it was innocent, wasn’t it? They were just going to swim. That was all.
He let out a sigh, and stripped his clothes off, leaving them on a rock nearby.
He was suddenly aware of Lilith looking at him as he waded in. She dove beneath the water, and he relaxed, approaching the spot she had disappeared. He slid into the water too, getting his hair wet, and then surfaced. The water was cool, refreshing. He slicked his hair back.
Lilith surfaced too, and smiled. Then she approached him, brow furrowed, and touched his chest. Mel tensed, trying not to shiver.
“You look so different from him,” she said, tracing the lines on his torso. He held very still as she examined him, brushing her hands along his stomach, his ribs, and then his shoulders and his arms. He was very tense. If he had known she would do this, he would have stayed on the bank.
She was still frowning, but she finally grasped his hands, and he relaxed a little.
“Why are you so different?” she wondered.
He shrugged. He had seen the Man; he had less muscle, and was thin.
“You’re nicer than him,” she said, and Mel knew she was referring to his appearance.
He couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you.”
She gazed at his chest again, at the necklace hanging from his neck.
“It’s so blue,” she said. “Bluer than the sky. Can I touch it again?”
He chuckled, and took it off.
“You can have it,” he said gently. “Turn around; I’ll put it on.”
But she hesitated. “Are you sure?” she said, reaching out and touching the sparkling stone.
“Trust me,” he replied, “I have plenty more.”
She smiled, and turned around, brushing her hair out of the way. Mel stared at her neck, her delicate shoulders, for a moment before shaking himself. Then he slipped the chain around her neck.
She turned to face him, looking down at the sapphire. Then she looked at Mel.
“Thank you,” she murmured softly.
He smiled, loving the look on her face. “You’ll have to hide it from Adam.”
She nodded firmly. “I’ll find a place for it.”
They looked at each other for a moment. The stream rushed around them, and Lilith’s necklace glimmered.
Suddenly Mel looked around; the sky was darkening, and the night insects were starting to buzz.
“You have to go,” he said quickly, “I have to go. Michael will be here soon.”
She sighed, looking up at the sky as if it had wronged her.
“Tomorrow,” he reminded her, chuckling.
She nodded, and smiled at him. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
They waded in opposite directions, Lilith disappearing into the treeline to go back to her camp. Mel watched her go, and finally shivered. That was close. Very, very close.
He got dressed, and hurried to the clearing. Michael was there, leaning against the Tree, his arms folded. He frowned when he saw him.
“Were you swimming?” he asked.
Mel’s heart was racing. If Michael knew what he had just been doing, he would lose it.
He shrugged and nodded.
Michael frowned. He straightened, studying Mel carefully.
“Something’s wrong,” he said slowly.
Mel masked his guilt with indignation. “No. I’m fine,” he replied firmly.
“Mel. I’m your brother. Something’s different...I can feel it,” he said worriedly.
“Michael,” he said, trying to be patient, “I’m really fine.”
Michael studied him for a long moment. Then realization appeared on his face, and he looked at the Tree.
“It’s the Tree,” he said, nodding. “It’s so powerful...it must be overwhelming you.”
Mel felt a bite of anger. “It’s not,” he said, “and I’m fine.”
Michael looked at him. “Our friends have noticed,” he said. “Judith has noticed.”
“Your friends have noticed,” Mel shot back. “Forgive me if I’m embarrassing you.”
Michael glowered. “Don’t do that.”
“Why? It’s true, isn’t it?” he shot back.
Michael looked away, and Mel knew he was right.
He finally sighed. “Regardless,” he murmured, “I’m worried. You’re my brother. If this is too hard for you…”
Mel took a deep breath. “It’s not,” he said gently. “And thank you. Truly.”
Michael nodded. He looked into the trees, a thoughtful look on his face.
“Amazing creatures, aren’t they?” he said.
“Yes,” Mel said hesitantly. “Amazing.”
“I wonder what Father has planned for them.”
Mel felt a surge of guilt. Whatever it was, he was ruining it all.
Mel
Mel came home, a couple days later, late in the night. He had been patrolling Via di Parete, and also looking through the cemetery nearby, searching for an Ariel.
So far his search was unsuccessful.
He checked his phone when he got home. He hadn’t heard from Nora all afternoon and all evening, and this confused him. They had been texting regularly since she had last visited--it was strange not to hear from her now.
He wondered if he should text her--it was the middle of the night, but maybe she was awake. He could drive over, pick her up, take her back to his place.
It had been difficult not to think about her. She was something to look forward to--something to distract him from his own dark memories. He really liked her--liked her spirit, her teasing. They had fun together.
It had been a while since Mel had had someone to spend time with. He had had his lovers ove
r the years, but the past year he had been busy...distracted. He wondered if it was the years finally catching up to him, making his body weaker, older.
He really hated becoming mortal.
He took a shower and dressed. His necklace hung heavy on his chest, and he took it off and set it on the nightstand. Just for tonight.
There was a knock at the door, and he frowned. He wasn’t expecting visitors. He left the bedroom, barefoot, past the kitchen and looked through the peephole.
It was Nora. What was she doing here?
“You didn’t walk here--” he said as he opened the door, but he stopped short. “What happened?”
She was crying, taking ragged breaths, tears streaming down her face. She was also underdressed, merely wearing a T-shirt and leggings, and she shivered from the forty degree weather.
Mel helped her inside, touching her arm, and she let out a sob.
“Sorry--sorry,” she moaned, holding her head in her hands. She was nearly hyperventilating.
“Come here,” he said firmly, taking her hand and guiding her to the couch. “Sit down. Breathe.”
He sat next to her and held her, brushing a soothing hand up and down her back.
“Deep breaths,” he murmured gently. “You can do it.”
She sobbed again, but took her hands away from her face and stared at the fireplace, taking steadying breaths. Mel could tell she had experienced this before--what looked like an anxiety attack.
“Do you take any medication?” he asked, and she sobbed again.
“Yes,” she moaned, “but I left it at home. Because I’m a fucking idiot.”
“You’re not--”
“Yes I am,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”
There was a silence. Mel stared at her, surprised.
She shook her head, crying again, brushing fruitlessly at her eyes. “That’s why I’ve been feeling so shitty. I’ve been so dizzy and tired. God, I’m so stupid...I just got mixed up, getting up early for rehearsals...and I ended up skipping my pill a couple days...just two fucking days…”
She sobbed, her shoulders shaking.
“Breathe,” Mel reminded her, and she looked at the fireplace again, breathing deeply.
When she started to calm a little he asked, “Are you sure?”