The Halo Chronicles: The Guardian

by Carey Corp

  Looking away from his probing eyes, I focus on the scarred table top hoping I’m not as transparent as I feel. “Since recently.”

  I hear Derry open his mouth to protest, his challenge so severe it’s palpable. Fortunately, the bell rings, turning our thoughts to more disturbing matters. Although we’re starting a new semester, we still have to face Mr. Creepy for fifth period English. He teaches all sophomore and junior classes, so short of transferring schools or dropping out, we’ve no choice but to endure him.

  Mr. Creepy’s halo is still disturbingly dark and volatile, and as I take my seat I pop a mint into my mouth to counteract the acrid taste it produces. He seems distracted, not in an emotional way but more dull and lifeless, as if even more of his humanity has been leeched away by darkness. And despite my revulsion at the thought, I can’t help but wonder if his condition has anything to do with Kendra Douglas and the rumors.

  This semester, he informs us, we’ll be reading Shakespeare and other classics. Aloud. Our first work will be A Midsummer Night’s Dream. For a second I worry he’ll chose readers at random but he surprises me by asking for volunteers. No one from our little group, back together in the third and fourth rows, steps forward, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

  He pays us so little attention that I’m taken completely off guard when he calls my name on our way out to sixth period. In fact, I’m not sure he has said my name except the three boys surrounding me, Jonah with Becke in front, Gabriel at my side, and Derry at my back, immediately stiffen. Our entire group turns to face him as a single entity.

  Without looking up, Mr. Creepy says, “Alexia, please see me after school.” Although his tone’s bland and businesslike, his halo begins to ooze around him like a thick oily tentacle.

  Gabriel has a death grip on my hand. As I stare at him in panic, he shakes his head “no.” My mouth is so dry, I can’t swallow down the acrid bile that rises from my throat as I try to make up an excuse as to why I can’t stay after. Mr. Creepy, however, cuts me off mid-sentence by declaring, “It’s not a request Alexia. Right now you are in danger of failing my class, so I expect to see you in the extra study session after school.” Without another word, he turns back to the papers on his desk, dismissing me.

  On the way out, Derry whispers, “Are you really in danger of failing?” He’s as surprised by this as I am. Although English isn’t my best subject, I usually get solid Bs.

  “I didn’t think I was.”

  My mind is frantically reviewing recent tests and assignments when Jonah vocalizes my same conclusions. “He’s lying.”

  Once we’re down the hall, Becke clutches my sleeve. “Don’t go Alexia. You don’t have to do what he says.”

  Frustration gives my words an angry bite. “It’s fine. I can’t spend the rest of the year hiding. Maybe he’ll back down if I stand up to him.” I think of Mr. Creepy’s halo—how his evil feeds off fear—and realize I couldn’t be farther from the truth. But better me than some unsuspecting student. This is my problem to bear—my curse.

  Jonah’s halo is back, swirling around him like agitated ash. Lacing his fingers through Becke’s, he reluctantly leads her away. Over her shoulder she implores, “Promise me you won’t go alone.”

  But before I can reply, Derry slams his fist into a locker causing me to flinch. “Dammit! I can’t go with you, Lexi. If I don’t go right home, the Eccles are gonna send me back to The Children’s Center.” Then looking as pained as I’ve ever seen him, he begs, “Tell me what you want me to do. Whatever you want—I swear I’ll do it!”

  I want to ask him to come with me, for both our sakes, but if I do, I could lose him again and I can’t take that risk. Feeling helpless to calm my friends or myself, I shrug, knowing they’re waiting for me to give them some direction. Yet it’s Gabriel—surprisingly quiet this entire time—who decides things for me.

  Grimly, he says to Becke and Jonah before they disappear down the stairwell, “I’ll be with her.” Then to Derry he instructs, “Do what you have to with the Eccles. I promise I won’t let Alex out of my sight.”

  Taking a step toward Gabriel, Derry gets in his face jabbing at him with an accusing finger. “You better not, Gabe. If anything happens to Lexi, I’m comin’ after you!”

  Gabriel leans forward until Derry’s finger pokes into his chest. “If I let anything happen to her, I’ll save you the trouble by handing myself over.” They’re so tense I expect them to come to blows at any second.

  Wedging myself between them, I wrap my arms around Derry’s neck. Against his ear I whisper, “Everything’s going to be okay. I’ll be fine. You’ve got to go home, so you don’t get in trouble. Okay? I can’t lose you again.” As I let Derry go, I feel Gabriel’s protective arms wrap around my waist, embracing me from behind. For the briefest of moments, I’m sandwiched between them—the two boys who are everything to me.

  Derry pulls away. His eyes are hard, his parting words a threat. “You better take care of her.” He gives me a look of such raw emotion that I expect him to say something profound. Instead, he spins on the heels of his new boots and stalks off without so much as a “goodbye.”

  After school, Gabriel and I head straight to English class. Whatever’s coming, it’s best to get it over with. I remind myself that we’re in a public place, and nothing truly inappropriate can happen. But before we even enter the room I’m assaulted by the frenzy of Mr. Creepy’s dark halo. It whips around him in agitated chaos causing my head to pound and my stomach to wrench.

  One single student—a member of the Mr. Abernathy fan club—sits in the back of the room, reading. Although it’s not allowed, she’s listening to her iPod with earbuds.

  Looking from me to Gabriel, Mr. Creepy’s lips thin into a disapproving slash. Smoothly he asks, “Did you need me for something, Mr. Kustosz?”

  Gabriel’s reply is equally as smooth and delivered with deceptive stoicism. “I’m waiting for Alex.”

  Mr. Creepy sizes him up, calculating, before declaring, “I’m sorry but I have to submit the names of all the students in my makeup session ahead of time . You are not on that list—so you’re going to have to wait out in the hall.” When Gabriel doesn’t move, he adds, “Please be sure to close the door on your way out, Mr. Kustosz.”

  Hesitating, Gabriel waits for me to nod before slowly retreating to the hall. Before he goes, he whispers, “I’ll be right out there if you need me.” With a quick squeeze of my hand he’s gone, leaving me alone with my disturbing English teacher.

  I wait while Mr. Creepy pours water from a filtered pitcher into a paper cup and sets it at the edge of his desk. Looking up, he asks, “Would you like some water?”

  Too sickened to play games, I try to get to the point. “What exactly is this about?”

  “It’s about you failing my class,” he states. When I open my mouth to argue he continues. “This entire semester is based on participation. Reading aloud.” His beady eyes narrow shrewdly. “You don’t like reading aloud, do you Alexia?”

  “Not really.”

  Although he’s pretending to be benign, I can see the twisted anticipation causing his halo to undulate. The movements remind me of the first day in his class. The lingering, the glassy eyes and x-rated thoughts. My skin crawls.

  Looking away, I notice the handful of awards on the wall declaring him educator of the year. Yeah, right!

  “I know it can be embarrassing, but speaking in public is an important skill to learn. It is my duty as an educator to teach you.” He picks up a book and extends it toward me. “Here. I thought we’d start with Shakespeare’s poetry. Work our way up to his plays. Read the marked passage please.” Taking the book, I turn to go to the far side of the classroom when he orders, “Read from there please.”

  Stopping in my tracks, I open the book to scan his selected text, Venus and Adonis, when he interrupts, “Aloud Alexia. To me.” As he glares at me, his small, feverish eyes dip from my face slowly down my body and lingering as I fumble through t
he text, reading it cold.

  The poem’s about love and seduction but in such archaic words it’s hard to comprehend where the vulgarities lie. After about twenty stanzas, Mr. Creepy, interrupts quietly, “That’s enough.”

  Wordlessly he offers me the cup of water, but even though I’m parched, the thought of taking it from him makes me sick. Setting it down with a small frown he admonishes, “It’s not enough to be able to read the words. You need to understand them, feel them… taste them. Read the next passage, please. Slowly, as if you are Venus speaking these words in earnest and for the first time.”

  The most I’m able to comply is to speak slowly, as I read:

  “'Fondling,' she saith, 'since I have hemm'd thee here

  Within the circuit of this ivory pale,

  I'll be a park, and thou shalt be my deer;

  Feed where thou wilt, on mountain or in dale:

  Graze on my lips, and if those hills be dry,

  Stray lower, where the pleasant fountains lie.”

  Sliding his tongue between his thin lips to wet them, Mr. Creepy repeats in a husky voice, “What is Shakespeare talking about?”

  Although it’s just words, just poetry, I feel violated, like I’ve just participated in something depraved. My stomach lurches. Doing my best not to vomit, I reach for the cup of water on the edge of the desk as Mr. Creepy asks, “What do you think it means Alexia?”

  “Enough!”

  Gabriel explodes through the door, seething with rage. His face is terrifying. Fierce and beautiful! His halo, blazing and huge like an inferno, fills the room and I’m surprised his fire doesn’t consume me. He’s too angry and I’m too close not to burn. “Come on Alex!” Moving faster than I can comprehend, he grabs my wrist and propels me behind him. The cup of water flies from my hand, through the air in a slow motion arc before I can consume any.

  “How dare you interrupt my session with a student, Mr. Kustosz? I could have you expelled for this.” Mr. Creepy is too calm. His voice is almost triumphant as if this was his goal all along.

  “You could try!” Gabriel seethes. “But the odds are I can put you in the hospital before you can get me kicked out of school.”

  Too stunned to feel relief, I watch Mr. Creepy hesitate, calculating. His thin lips pinch as he whines, “You may go, Miss Grabovski.”

  Gabriel practically surrounds me as he ushers me roughly from the room. After he shoves me into the hallway, he turns back to face Mr. Creepy one final time. “If you ever come near Alex again, I WILL END YOU!”

  He means it.

  Grabbing my forearm, he pulls me down the hall, barely stopping to grab our coats before propelling me out of the building. Despite the snow covered ground, he doesn’t slow as we cross Fort Thomas Avenue. Instead he drags me alongside of him, growling, “Let’s go.”

  Halfway down Midlands he falters. I’ve never seen him so angry. His flushed face is scarlet, his nostrils flaring like a wild thing. I resist the urge to shield my eyes from his halo, which blazes blindingly white as he bristles furiously from head to toe. I’m at a loss as to how to calm him.

  Veering off our regular course, Gabriel takes a sharp right onto Euclid and pulls me toward the little park at the end of the street. This time of year, the neighborhood park is deserted. Private. Once we are off the street, he falters again, looking around in confusion.

  My arm hurts where his fingers dig into the flesh. Suddenly he looks at the spot where he’s gripping me too tightly. His hand pulls away as if burnt, and he gasps, his ragged breath hitching in his throat as he sees the physical marks his rage leaves on my body. I want to tell him it’s okay—that the marks will heal and no harm is done—but the wild, haunted gleam in his eyes stops my words.

  His searing eyes seem to beg mine for reassurance, but as I reach for him, he tenses like a cornered animal. “It’s going to be okay,” I croon, spreading my arms. “Come here.”

  Although he lets me pull him into my embrace he remains stiff, at first, quivering as I hold him. Then he’s suddenly gripping me back so tightly I think my ribs may crack. But I don’t care. Gabriel shudders. With a loud keening moan, his body convulses into violent sobbing.

  With the weight of his body collapsing against me, I sink down into a thick drift of snow that blankets the pristine park. Feeling the warm wetness of his emotions slide down my skin and through the valley of my body beneath my shirt, I cling to him, murmuring words meant to soothe. I run my fingers through his fine, soft hair and clutch his head against the crook of my neck. Comforting him with my body, I curl around him like a protective cocoon until it’s impossible to determine where I end and he begins.

  It’s a long time until Gabriel stills and an even longer time until he moves again. When he finally lifts his head, I’m ready to let him go. But instead of separating himself, he repositions his face so his lips press into the damp skin of my neck. Once, then twice, he presses against me. Before I know it, he is blazing a trail of kisses up my neck, across my jaw and toward my mouth. When he looks at me his eyes are still crazed and wild but different. Desire, hot and electric, crackles around us as he moves over me. Lowering his mouth to mine, he sinks into me, kissing me as if his survival, his very sanity, depends upon it.

  CHAPTER 13

  Terrible! The memory of Gabriel’s whisper echoes through my brain, but I refuse to accept his inevitable rejection one second sooner than I have to. Instead, I kiss him back with everything in me. Stealing the moment and claiming it for my own.

  When he finally pulls away, cradling my face between his hands and whispering “Sorry,” I’m prepared.

  “It’s fine,” I murmur, already mourning the loss of this part of him. “At least you didn’t say ‘terrible’ this time.”

  My words—a tiny calculated wound—hit their mark and he flinches. “Alex, can I explain?”

  “I get it. Kissing me was terrible.”

  “No.” Gabriel gasps in protest, and then he visibly softens. But the fierceness remains simmering in his eyes as he stares at me with remorse. Sitting up, he pulls me out of the snow bank to face him. “It was never you. I know I let you think that, but what was terrible was me. Kissing you, Alexia, was wonderful! More wonderful than any other human experience I’ve ever had—more wonderful than all of them combined. So wonderful that if I could find a way to spend a lifetime kissing you, I would!”

  And though I’d determined not to cry, his declaration causes hot tears of confusion to flow down my cheeks. The realization he likes kissing me opens a floodgate. “But what you said about your boundaries, I thought you didn’t like me the same way I liked—I mean like a girlfriend.”

  “I am a guardian of ages old. An Eternal Seraph. It’s an honor to serve, to struggle. Part of my duty is to be a bulwark, strong and disciplined against mortal temptations. I should’ve been able to easily overcome these feelings I have for you.”

  “And can’t you?”

  “They’re tearing me apart!” The agony in his celestial eyes fuels my doubt.

  “But you’d vanquish them if you could. Overcome your feelings for me.”

  “No, Alexia. When I kiss you, I understand what could tempt beings like me to forsake eternity—to fall for another kind of heaven.”

  “That’s your mortal hormones talking.”

  “Then I hope they never shut up.” His fingers gently wipe at my face, brushing away my doubt. Closing my eyes against his touch, I savor the sensations. Soft as the flit of a butterfly’s wing, he kisses my eyelids. His lips flutter down my face following the moist, salty path of my tears to nip at the corner of my mouth. Quietly, he sighs against my lips, “I adore kissing you.”

  Then he presses me flat into the snow—his body heavy as it covers mine—and shows me just how much.

  Eventually the cold, and the fact we’ve been making out in a snow drift, drive us to our feet. I drift the rest of the way home in a sort of fog, wet and frozen—and sublime. When we get to the Fosters’ pretty porch Gabriel
halts my steps, declaring, “I’ve been dying to do this.” He grasps my hand and spins me against him. Cupping my face, he kisses me again, deep and slow.

  Even though Nana Kransky has returned to Florida, I know the neighbors must be watching us. But I can’t bring myself to care. Perhaps they’re even glad, and I imagine them saying things like “finally” and “it’s about time.”

  The next morning our friends are breathless with anticipation to confirm I’m okay, and to learn the outcome of my afterschool summons. Since lunch is the first time our little group is all together, we agree to talk then. Once we’ve gathered at our usual table, it’s not eagerness that I see on their faces but rather a mixture of concern and dread, laced with various degrees of anger.

  Silently, they wait for me to begin. Gabriel raises our intertwined fingers and kisses the back of my hand before giving me a solemn nod. Retelling the story, I watch their faces transform from fear to awe when I get to the part where Gabriel threatens to “end” Mr. Creepy. Prudently, I stop after storming out of the classroom but before the kissing. When I’m finished everyone’s smiling appreciatively, except Derry.

  Derry’s face is so complex. Anger, possessiveness, remorsefulness and gratitude morph into an agonized expression that could easily be mistaken for jealousy—if I didn’t know better. The effect twists his gentle features into something alien and severe. He opens his mouth, but Becke unknowingly interrupts before he can speak.

  “But you wouldn’t really do it?” Becke insists, her thin brows pulling into a sharp ‘v ’. “I mean, you wouldn’t really kill Mr. Creepy? Would you Gabriel?”

  Gabriel looks around the table, his response is careful. “I don’t condone murder. But there are a lot of ways to exact justice. I’m not sure what I’ll do if Mr. Creepy tests me—but I am positive I’ll protect Alex first and foremost. At any cost.”

  “I could commit murder.” Derry’s right forearm unconsciously shields his left, pressing the abused limb against his chest as he speaks. “To protect someone I love.”