She Speaks to Angels: YA Angel Thriller (AngelFire Chronicles Bk #1)

by Blackwelder, Ami

  “I’m with you on that,” Jennifer agreed. “I’m looking forward to that warm sofa and cup of tea. Come on, Ali.”

  As my two best friends in the whole world turned their backs on me and headed to the door, I felt a tickle at my ankle. Leaning down, I curled my fingers around a stark black feather. I fanned it out and found it to be the size of my palm. I’d never seen a feather quite like this one. I felt another on my ankle and turned to see one more blow out from under the rain gutter. I must have knocked them loose.

  While I held one feather in my hands, the other two swirled into the air. Carried by the gusts of wind, they danced into the sky where they belonged. I watched them fly away like listless birds into the chalky clouds and disappear.

  Turning back around, Molly and Jennifer waited at the door which stood ajar as Kian whispered to me, his words like velvet on my skin. “Your life is in serious danger. I’m not taking my eyes off of you.”

  Whatever Krysta heard peeved her. She strutted away from Kian and me with a chip on her shoulder and an extra kick in her rhythm. I couldn’t be sure why. Did I represent competition, or did she just not want me in on their secrets? Curiosity engulfed me. Kian had secrets. He knew about Tommy, his death. He knew I was in danger. From what? Why? How did Kian know all this? And was Clark really to blame?

  I didn’t have long to ask him, because when we arrived at the ground floor the cops showed up in the administration parking lot, and we all scrambled in different directions. Molly grabbed my wrist and threw me into the backseat with her, and as soon as Jennifer plopped into the driver’s seat, the sedan revved. I looked back to find Kian and his friends, but like Dameon at the memorial, they had vanished.

  Revelations

  Molly and Jennifer decided to stay in the comforts of their homes on the last day before school. Their parents had begun missing them, as much time they had been spending over at my house. Besides, going back to school meant they needed to be in bed early.

  I stepped near the kitchen and saw Samuel eating one of Mom’s amazing chicken sandwiches for lunch. The thought occurred to me that now would be the perfect time to talk to him about Tommy and Clark. I had seen and heard enough to draw suspicion in Clark’s direction. But then I remembered how Krysta reacted to Jennifer when she said, “You’ve connected the well plotted lines.” There was just something about the way Kian glared at Krysta when she told us to take our information to the cops.

  Maybe Clark was innocent? What did Kian mean when he said “or what?” After everything with Clark in the back alley, the scratches on my window, the reflection on the Kindle and the recording on the iPhone, I began to wonder if the what could have been...an angel. I know; the idea sounded ludicrous even in my own mind. I mean, angels. Really? Forget the impossibility of them existing, but what would they have to do with Tommy’s death? Why?

  I decided I shouldn’t say anything to Samuel until I knew more. The disloyalty would crush Molly; I blood promised her. But I rationalized she would come to understand as I understood what the heck was going on at Millennium High. Besides, Kian said I was in danger. I had felt someone watching me and heard someone following me when I picked up the iPhone. I didn’t want to draw any more stalkers my way.

  I sneaked carefully around the kitchen corner, wanting to head back to my bedroom. I had a lot to sort out alone.

  “Hey, Ali! Come here.” Samuel waved me down as I passed. “Come, have a seat.” I plopped down next to him, and he handed me half his sandwich. “Have you eaten?” I shook my head and took the food graciously. “Feels like we never see each other anymore, what with my new hours and all.”

  “We didn’t see much of each other when you were in the academy, either,” I told him. He’d always been sure of what he wanted since ten years old.

  “Well, I miss you. How you doin’? Holding up?” Felt like prodding, like the way he elicited information out of suspects.

  “I’m...good.” I shrugged. “Fine.”

  “Well, Mom wanted me to make sure you really are fine.”

  “Oh. I am.” Then I thought that maybe instead of giving him information, I could pull some out of him. “So, how is your investigation on Tommy going? Any new leads?”

  “Same old, same old. I got to tell you I think the poor kid just couldn’t handle all the pressure and jumped.”

  “And nothing makes you think differently?” I bit my lip.

  “Not really.” He paused in recollection. “Why? Should it?”

  “No reason; I just wasn’t sure what happened is all.”

  “Well, looks cut and dry as far as the New York City Police are concerned.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t want to push my luck and bit into the sandwich.

  “You’ve been going out a lot with Jen and Mol.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you make it to the memorial service?”

  “We all went.”

  “Didn’t see you.” He scratched his head.

  “We stayed in the crowd. Probably hard to pinpoint where we were.”

  “So, you’re heading back to school tomorrow.”

  “My glory days are over,” I smirked.

  “So, are you fine with that? I mean, going back to your English class?”

  I froze in an emotional swirl. I couldn’t be sure. I hadn’t really thought about that all week, but I would be walking back into the class where I saw it happen. My God! Nerves bunched up in bundles and I began to feel hot.

  “You alright? You look a little sweaty.” Samuel touched my forehead. “You coming down with a fever?”

  All I could see was Tommy’s limp body and the blood pouring out from underneath him at all ends. “No, no. I’m just...I just didn’t put much thought into it before, that I am going back to the same classroom where Tommy fell outside the window.”

  “Sorry sis. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up at all. I suck at this.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine. I just need some water.” I grabbed a glass from the cabinet and used the water from the spout on the fridge. “Tell Mom I’m fine. If anything comes up, I’ll let you guys know.” I rested my hand on my big brother’s shoulder. “Promise.”

  “OK, sis. See you later.” With the nod of his head I knew I’d been freed. A released suspect. Didn't take long for me to become captive again. Mom leapt from her favorite rocking chair and locked her gaze on me.

  “Ali, let’s go to the mall. We never spend any time together anymore.”

  I wanted desperately to say no, that I’ve got murder, angels, and stalkers to figure out, but she was right; we hadn’t been spending much time together, and she wouldn’t have believed me anyway. Besides, with Dad gone she wanted to make sure she made up for his loss. I didn’t want to make her feel any worse than she already did.

  “Alright, Mom. Just let me get my phone,” I shouted as I raced to my bedroom. Shoving the cell into my back pant pocket, I threw on my galoshes and a light winter coat. The air felt warmer today. March waited just around the corner.

  ***

  At the mall Mom and I window shopped. I tried on a few pairs of jeans and a couple of dressy gowns. Mom wanted me to be prepared for prom, but I didn’t even know if I’d be going. Heck, I hadn’t even been asked yet.

  “Why don’t you let me pay for a limo for you three girls? It’s your Junior Prom in a month and a half!” Mom suggested as I pulled up a pink satiny dress.

  “Really?” I sensed that Mom felt worried about me after Dad’s death, and then more worried since Tommy died at my school. She regularly tried to cheer me up with purchases. More than that, I enjoyed spending time with her...for the most part.

  “Of course. I want you to be happy. It’s really not too expensive. I’ll help with the limo and dress and then the rest is up to you.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Her hugs always felt warming, like hot cocoa on a cold winter day.

  “You know, I don’t know if I even have anyone to go with yet.”

  “You? Yo
u’re kidding. You’ll find someone. Beautiful girls don’t stay on the market long.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell Mom that boys at my school liked girls with a little more feminine suave to them. With a few more pronounced curves and much more attitude. I wore baggy clothes and little make-up. I had a natural beauty, sure, but nothing compared to what I competed against at Millennium High.

  “I like this one.” Mom patted down the dress and stretched the fabric evenly across my body.

  “Kinda shiny, don’t you think?” I commented.

  Giggling she responded. “You’re right.” She waved her hand at the dressing stall as if to tell me to take it off. Back to the drawing board. At last I knew what didn’t work.

  By the time we finished our shopping we walked out with two bags. One held a gold velvet gown that swooped around my neck, a gold purse and heels. The other carried a couple of pairs of jeans, pants and tops. Mom really knew how to take my mind off of going back into English class.

  ***

  When I reached my bedroom after dinner I threw myself over my fluffy sheets. Ham casserole rolled around in my stomach. My eyes caught the ceiling and thoughts circled like a carousel until I fell asleep. Tommy. Clark. Kian. Angels. My head raced dizzily with dreams...nightmares.

  The man from the alley stumbles over the gravely road as a black winged creature descends toward him. In flight he, it, appears so elegant and regal. Like nothing could stop the force of the thrust under the wings. The creature maintains close proximity with confidence until it vanishes behind the corner with the man, neither to be seen again.

  My body levitates to the rooftop of the school with black feathers floating about me in whirls. Frolicking like a child, I dance in the feathers as if in love for the first time. Laughter falls from my lips as wind whistles through my hair, and then the sky crackles and rain pours over me, sticking my clothes to my body.

  Then he appears, the black winged creature, with something in his mouth. But his face is hidden in the storm and the night. I tiptoe forward as if any sound might startle him. Squinting my eyes, I stretch to see inside of him. Flapping wings push wind toward me as his mouth opens in a deafening screech. With his mouth wide open, I can see what he holds inside. ME!

  I jumped up out of bed and felt sweat rolling like beads down my neck. I took a few deep breaths. As I brushed my long hair out of my face and behind my ears, I crawled to the edge of my bed and slid open the nightstand drawer where I had hid the last of what we recovered from Tommy’s locker. I didn’t want the notepad disappearing in the night like Tommy’s other items. Gripping it, I flipped to the drawings. Good thing I placed it underneath my pillow that night everything else disappeared. A tingle of guilt made me shudder as I wondered if I should have given this to his mother. She certainly would have appreciated it.

  I paused at the angel depiction, the one I had seen in my dreams. The black winged creature. Tommy’s artwork was infectious, possessing a real absorbing quality. Did Tommy encounter this angel in the city? This same angel that chased a man in the alley? Perhaps something similar happened to Tommy on the rooftop? Maybe the fear of this beautiful thing pushed him over the edge? An accident. Because angels didn’t murder, did they?

  My lids felt heavy. Sundays I loved to sleep in, eat and lounge around the house. With everything on my mind this day I simply became more sluggish. I didn’t want to move from my bed, and I just stared at the notepad as if I were in a trance. My brain began to hurt. Making sense of all this didn’t make any sense.

  I rolled over and laid the notepad on the nightstand, picked up a magazine and stared out my window. The sun had set hours ago, but I couldn’t get comfortable. I didn’t want to get up and I didn’t want to sleep. But my lids kept drooping. The words on the magazine began to look hazy, so I closed my eyes for several minutes. Or so I thought.

  The jarring sound of a crash outside woke me. My eyes felt better and flashed to the alarm clock. 2:00A.M. I sprinted to the window and pulled back the curtain and saw a blanket of blackness. Twinkling stars and a bright moon provided the only light. But as I stared further and deeper I made out the silhouette forms of two creatures fluttering in the sky. Legs, arms, wings.

  The taller winged being struggled with the shorter being for several seconds, each pulling and pushing the other until the taller pushed himself away from the house and into the clouds. I couldn’t be sure in the blackness and from such a distance, but he appeared darker in color. The shorter winged being fluttered toward the almost full moon, and the reflections of moonlight shone over his heavenly body. If I hadn’t known the term I still would have called him an Angel. I couldn’t take my eyes off the radiance of his essence.

  I felt like I’d been healed of everything in that instant. Dad’s sudden collapse. Tommy’s murder. The images of Tommy’s body outside English class. Unforeseeable danger. Healed of everything that had drawn me into the dark abyss time and time again. This encounter felt nothing like my nightmare, like the angel that had me locked in his mouth...but then the angel disappeared, and so did the serenity.

  I stayed in front of my window for at least an hour afterward. I could hardly believe what I had seen. Reflections on the Kindle and recordings on the iPhone paled in comparison. Nothing had prepared me for something like this. For the unreal, the supernatural. I felt like I walked on air, although my feet set firmly on the carpeted floor.

  I didn’t understand quite what I had seen, either. Flipping open Tommy’s notepad again I skimmed the sketches of the black winged angel and I saw nothing that resembled the celestial creature who had floated under the moon. Nothing. But then the sketches were only pictures drawn by human hands, imperfect. I had seen the ethereal angel in real life. Or maybe Tommy and I saw different beings? I couldn’t be sure. But one thing I did know, there was no way I could fall asleep again tonight.

  Sitting on my bed in contemplation, I held my knees. If these things...these angels…really did exist, then maybe one of them stole the books and papers from my bedroom that night? But why? To keep their existence secret? Then my mind wandered to Kian. If he knew about these angels, perhaps he took the books and papers? Perhaps he really was trying to protect me?

  I assembled a timeline in my head.

  Tommy kisses Noe. Perhaps Clark confronts him? Tommy starts acting differently. He becomes reclusive; withdraws. Checks out books on angels. Sketches forms of angels into his notepad. He dies. Either way, I probably needed to stay away from Clark and anything remotely angel-like. I didn’t want to end up dead, too. But could I really trust Kian?

  A shiver rushed up my spine at the thought.

  The only people I really trusted at school had gone back to their homes yesterday. I wondered what Mol and Jen thought about all that had transpired on the rooftop. Krysta shook things up, and Kian and I might not have been as quiet as we thought. My friends weren’t stupid, and I hadn’t heard from either of them all day Sunday.

  Closer

  17-75-7. I spun my lock combination and flipped open my locker. I had a spare maroon sweater hanging in there for unexpected cold days. In winter this worked well, but now with spring approaching, I decided better to take the sweater home. Tucking the wooly garment toward the back of the locker, I pulled out my assignment folder.

  Journalism. I rubbed my fingers over the label and then over the Paramore stickers I had stuck there after the concert weeks ago. One of the best. So much had changed since then. All I had worried about then was bumping into Dameon, and where my friends and I would hang out over the weekend.

  Now, Tommy’s death haunted me. Every time I saw Clark in the hallway I couldn’t be sure if I should apologize to him or accuse him. Kian seemed to know more than he let on, and I didn’t know whether his knowledge fell more toward the ‘who killed Tommy’ side or toward the ‘angels in the city’ side. Or both? And the more I mulled over the stalker and over Kian’s words of warning on that roof, the more I felt vulnerable.

  I didn�
�t even know any more if I wanted to turn in my assignment to the Journalism teacher. How could I accuse Clark? Kian said a who, not a what, killed Tommy. And what would bringing attention to Tommy’s death do to the angels? If they somehow had been tied up in all of this, I didn’t want the cops to find out. I’m sure it would have been an accident.

  “Hey Ali!” A tap on my shoulder pulled me away from my reverie. Pulling a paint brush with crusty blue ends from her backpack, Molly bounced up and down as she spoke. “Guess who I saw earlier this morning?”

  “Who?” My face squished up as my shoulders rolled forward.

  “Kian.” Molly licked her lips as if his name should somehow make me swoon. “He was asking for you.” She winked.

  “Why?” I sounded defensive, as if I thought he could be the stalker.

  “Because he likes you, you Nimrod. You can’t tell me you’re so obtuse you didn’t notice.”

  I had noticed, but I couldn’t be sure I cared. I mean, three months had passed, and Dameon was finally paying attention to me. The guy of my dreams. And I didn’t even know who Kian was. What kind of a guy jumps onto the roof of the school over the weekend? The kind that means trouble.

  “Well,” I shrugged, “tell him I’ll see him around.” I couldn’t sound more nonchalant.

  “I think he wants to look after you.” Molly wiped her nose with the back of her arm; the paint brush was still in her hand. “I think someone’s got an admirer.”

  “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes at Mol as Jennifer skirted around the corner and rushed up to us. Thick laced boots clogged all the way.

  “Ali...” Jennifer’s ringlets of red hair draped over her cheeks from under her pink knit hat. “So what did you two talk about on the roof?”