“Yes, yes, I know: She won’t sleep with me,” groaned Mark. “You must have told me about ten million times already. So could you tell me again why I’m going out with a girl—a very pretty girl, granted—who doesn’t want to have sex? Why even bother?”
He sighed as he listened to her reply.
“Oh that’s right, I’d almost forgotten! Your father is my boss, isn’t he? How stupid of me! But you’re not going to force me to marry her, are you?”
He chuckled softly at Misty’s answer.
“Oof! That’s a relief. Yes, I’ll be most kind and considerate with your friend. But I’m telling you, virgins are a complete pain in the ass! And I should know. I’m only doing this because I adore you … OK, OK, and so you can tell your dad what a great surgeon I am! Can I still at least try to sleep with her? Yeah, I know, without coming on too strong or acting like a jerk. Great, thanks Misty, you’re like a mo—like a sister to me.”
He sighed again as he hung up, then went off to wash his hands before going back to the table.
Jeremy was furious. The Angel that was feeding off the surgeon—a blue Angel with a pronounced streak of pink—only shrugged when Jeremy cursed at Mark as he walked off to the men’s room.
“He does stuff like this all the time. But you have to forgive him because he saves tons of lives. I hope he won’t make your protégée too unhappy. It’s kind of weird though, because normally men feed off men and women feed off women. It’s better that way. Why are you feeding off a woman?”
“I don’t feed off of her,” snapped Jeremy, still livid.
“Oh, an Angel in love. Well good luck to you, my friend; your troubles are only just beginning!”
Jeremy grimaced. Why didn’t all the other Angels leave him alone? He wasn’t in love with Allison, he was just … protecting her, that’s all.
Jeremy grabbed a bite to eat as well at the restaurant, then went back home with Allison. Or, to be more precise, he followed Mark, who went back home with Allison. Ever the perfect gentleman, Mark said goodnight at the front entrance to her apartment building, after giving her a friendly peck on the cheek. Then he sped away in his sleek roadster.
“What a show-off,” Jeremy grumbled disgustedly while Allison, who looked absolutely radiant, waved goodbye.
She went up to her apartment and told Frankenstein all about her date. Jeremy’s heart sank when he realized how wonderful Allison thought that jerk Mark was.
“Can you believe it, Franky?” she gushed. “He has a house in the Hamptons … well, his parents do anyway, and he invited me! He’s totally cute, and he didn’t even try to kiss me or go down my pants or anything. Plus he’s got a great sense of humor and he saves people’s lives! I absolutely adore him!”
She spun her dog around in the air. But flying hardly appeared to be Frankenstein’s cup of tea, and he began barking nervously. She quickly set him down and apologized.
“He wants to see me again. Monday night. I can’t believe it! I have to tell Misty!” She looked at her watch in surprise. “Ooh, maybe I’ll wait until tomorrow; it’s already so late! Time just flew by tonight! I’ll text her to let her know how dreamy her friend is … Bingo!”
Jeremy sank onto the couch. How depressing! She was falling in love with a guy who couldn’t care less about her. It broke his heart. Well, at least all her stup—all her babbling would probably reassure the hit man who was listening in.
They say love makes you blind. And stupid.
Once Allison had taken the dog for a walk and was tucked safely in her bed, Jeremy finally pulled himself away from her and went to meet the Angels.
Jeremy wasn’t sure why he was getting so worked up about the whole thing anyway. After all, there was nothing he could do to protect Allison, and even if he did figure out who was behind his murder, what good would it do? He had no intention of transforming himself into a red Angel to seek vengeance.
He was down in the dumps as he mulled it over, slowly making his way to Rose’s & Blues.
Unfortunately, neither his grandfather nor his father was there. He didn’t see the two Angels who were supposed to keep track of Clark’s investigations for him either. It was hardly a surprise though, since they had told him to meet them there in two days.
After eating some Mist, Jeremy decided to pay a little visit to his stepfather. First he stopped off at Angela’s room. He was greatly relieved to find her sleeping peacefully, and the red Angel was nowhere in sight. The bottle of medicine was gone from her night table, which meant that his mother hadn’t needed to give her any help getting to sleep. It gladdened his heart, and he gently stroked the little girl’s blond hair with his ephemeral hand.
“I wasn’t much of a brother,” he whispered. “But I promise I’ll try to make up for it. I’ll get rid of that horrible red Angel who’s terrorizing you. I promise, sweetheart.”
Claire was sleeping as well. She tossed and turned, probably still trying to cope with her son’s death. Frank was still awake, however. Even though it was nearly two in the morning, he was pacing back and forth in his office. He looked tired. The Mist that rose from his body was a strange mixture of blue and pink, both satisfaction and anger. Curious now, Jeremy walked up close to him and began talking in a soft, persuasive voice.
“Go on, tell me what’s bothering you. You managed to get rid of me, to get your revenge. You’re still in love with my mother, and you’re worried about my sister, is that it? Tell me what’s going on inside your head.”
To his great surprise, Frank was much more receptive to his calm, reassuring voice than Allison had been when he’d yelled and screamed.
“Damn it!” he cursed. “What a mess! I’d just about gotten everything worked out, and now she wants to leave me! What am I going to do?”
His Mist turned brown, the brown of intense grief. Jeremy frowned and took a step back. That color. It reminded him of something—suddenly it struck him. What a fool he’d been! When he had first seen Frank and he had been congratulating himself on having “taken care of both problems,” and had talked about the “meddler who wouldn’t be bothering them anymore,” the Mist that had emanated from his stepfather was blue! Which meant that he had been sincerely happy, and hadn’t felt any unhealthy satisfaction! So Frank hadn’t been behind his murder. He’d had nothing to do with it. If he had, his Mist never would have been blue when he heard the news!
Frank unwittingly confirmed Jeremy’s conclusions when he punched his clenched fist into his other hand and uttered: “That little idiot! He goes and gets himself murdered just when I was about to tell him that I had finally managed to liquidate all my shady business dealings, and that he could finally make peace with his mother, after all the suffering she’d been through, and me, too! But now the fool’s mucked everything up!”
“Gee, thanks,” Jeremy replied wryly. “I love you too.”
This new turn of events galvanized Jeremy. Someway, somehow, he would have to make up for his mistakes. He had done everything he could to separate his stepfather and his mother, but now he had to admit that the man she’d married had been sincere.
Maybe not completely honest, but sincerely in love with his mother.
He had to save Allison. She was in more danger than ever. He now knew for certain that he really had been murdered because of her.
Jeremy jumped to his feet and sped out of the room.
He had to find Einstein immediately.
8
The Taste of Madness
Jeremy was nearly out of breath when he barged into Rose’s & Blues, hoping and praying that Einstein would be there. Someone up in heaven must have been listening, if there actually were a heaven somewhere, because he quickly spotted Einstein at the club, sitting with a group of other young boys. They were floating in chairs around a big table, and all of them looked absolutely furious. Since Jeremy still hadn’t learned how to fly, all he could do was raise his head and stare.
“… Und ich bin nicht einverstanden mit ihnen!” E
instein bellowed.
“Vaffanculo!” snapped a kid whose face was pockmarked from chicken pox.
“Galileo!” one of the others reproached him. “What did we say about insulting people! Keep your filthy sixteenth-century expressions to yourself, please!”
“I died in the seventeenth century—in 1642!” shot back Galileo. “You want me to say it in your own language, Mister Benjamin Franklin Know-It-All? Fuck—”
“Hello up there!” Jeremy yelled. “Can you hear me? Albert! Could you come down here for a second, please?”
Einstein looked down. His eyes lit up when he saw it was Jeremy.
“Ah,” he said as he graciously floated down to the ground. “If it isn’t my favorite aberration. You’re just in time. We were having a small conference with our fellow Angel physicists, and quite frankly, except for Leonardo and Benjamin, who is actually quite a funny chap, all the others are so full of themselves! How are you? So tell me, have you been able to do any other things that normal Angels are incapable of doing in such a short period of time?”
He bent his head expectantly as he asked the question, like a dog waiting for a bone.
“I need you,” Jeremy replied. “It’s a question of life and death. If I answer your question, will you help me?”
“Of course, ja, ja,” the boy said, giving him a radiant smile. “My pleasure! When you say it’s a question of ‘life or death,’ I assume you’re not talking about an Angel but about one of the living?”
Jeremy nodded and pointed down at his loincloth.
“From what I’ve been told, it’s impossible for a blue Angel like me who just passed over to make his own clothes.”
“Absolutely,” Einstein agreed. “It took me several years to learn how to do it.”
He took some of the Mist floating nearby to transform his jeans and T-shirt into a toga, then into a tuxedo, then into a pair of shorts and sandals, and then finally back into a pair of jeans. Jeremy was suitably impressed. It took him ten times longer than Einstein just to make his stupid loincloth and ridiculous safety pin!
All right then, now it was his turn to show the scientist what he was capable of. He raised himself up on his tiptoes, concentrated with all his might, and grabbed a piece of Mist. Einstein was already surprised by the fact that he could even hold onto the Mist. Jeremy made a warm blue ball and cradled it in the palm of his hand. Then he started to stretch it out like dough, and after a little work he created a solid blue piece of cloth. It was just a simple sheet, but judging by the stunned look on Einstein’s face, it was already quite a feat.
“Unglaublich!” Einstein uttered.
He gave a suspicious look back over his shoulder at the other scientists, who were gesticulating energetically above their heads. Then he led Jeremy off to a quiet corner of the club.
“That’s not normal,” he said. “Not at all. I am very intelligent, and I mean very intelligent, and it still took me years to learn how to do what you just did. It was so difficult that I had to depend on other Angels to make clothes for me. I will say it again: You are an exception, Jeremy. Which leads us to a very interesting question: Why you?”
Jeremy had no idea, and also had so many reasons to feel terrified and lonely in this strange new world that he didn’t have the luxury of wondering why he was supposed to be so special.
“You’re the genius. You figure out all the whys and hows. I held up my half of the bargain, so will you help me? I absolutely must save my friend Allison. The hit man found her! He stuffed her apartment with—”
“Stuffed?” interrupted Einstein in surprise. “Why would he stuff her apartment?”
“No, he didn’t stuff it, he bugged it! Filled it with hidden microphones. He wants to find out who she’s talked to and then he’ll kill her! I have to find a way to warn her!”
Jeremy told Einstein everything that had happened since they last saw each other.
“If you weren’t so … special, I wouldn’t help you.” Einstein scowled after Jeremy had finished his story. “But now I really don’t have a choice. C’mon, let’s go.”
“So what are we going to do?” Jeremy asked, still beside himself.
“You and I can’t do anything. But I know someone … maybe …”
“Who?” Jeremy asked impatiently. “And how can he help us? I didn’t think it was possible, that no one could interfere with the world of the living!”
Einstein just looked at him and smiled, looking very frail in his slim-fit jeans and blue T-shirt.
“Oh yes! We’re just going to have to find a Poltergeist for you, that’s all!”
The Poltergeist in question didn’t live in New York, but in New Jersey. Jeremy was a bit nervous about leaving Allison alone for such a long time, but he had to go with Einstein. He really needed his help. He didn’t tell him about his hesitations though, as he’d already taken enough crap from the other Angels over how he’d fallen in love with a living girl.
It took them hours to reach their destination. They had to find cars that were going their way, and then quickly change to another when the vehicle started heading off in the wrong direction. Jeremy got a crash course in dematerializing. He followed Einstein’s example and jumped from one car to another without even thinking about it. At first it was … difficult. Actually, it was painful more than anything else, and Jeremy was soon covered with bruises. Einstein only laughed at his plight.
“You young Blues,” he sniggered. “You still don’t know how to heal yourselves on the spot. You act as if your body had actually hit something!” But then Albert looked at him more seriously. “Unless you’ve figured out how to do that as well? After all, you’ve already accomplished some amazing things—why not one more?”
Jeremy frowned at him. Didn’t Einstein realize how bad it hurt?! He tried to concentrate on healing himself, but he must have been too preoccupied with Allison because none of his bruises went away—not the ones he could see at least. He could only imagine what the rest of his body looked like. The pain shooting through him didn’t seem to want to leave either.
Einstein looked disappointed, but didn’t insist. On their way to New Jersey, Jeremy was surprised when the scientist started grabbing any Mist he could get his hands on—blue or red—and making a bunch of multicolored ropes. He stuffed them all in a backpack that he had also quickly thrown together. Jeremy could hardly believe how easy it was for Einstein to make the two objects, and decided he better get busy learning how to make things himself as fast as possible.
They finally reached their destination.
The two Angels stood in front of the house, which was bathed in the pale moonlight. The place gave Jeremy the creeps. It looked like a haunted house out of some horror flick.
“Poltergeist 24 was last sighted here,” Einstein told him in a low voice. “Quiet now; he can be quite … hostile.”
“I had my hands full back there with all that car hopping,” Jeremy quipped. “So I didn’t have much time to ask exactly what it is we’re looking for. Poltergeist 24? What else are—?”
“We’re not looking for anything. We know exactly where to find him. He’s the twenty-fourth Poltergeist exercising his craft within a five-hundred-mile radius of New York. We have an extremely precise map indicating the location of all Poltergeists that have managed to make contact with the world of the living.”
Well really? So now the Angels are keeping track of the Poltergeists. With a map. Made of Mist? Oh great. Jeremy was just thrilled with his new life, and all the surprises it had in store for him. And all the aches and bruises as well. The way his body looked, it was no surprise they called him a “Blue.”
He managed to overcome his momentary bout of cynicism and paid attention to what Einstein was saying.
“Yeah, that’s what you said before,” Jeremy muttered. “But I thought it was impossible to make contact with the living!”
“Impossible, no … extremely hard to do in any organized manner, yes. A Poltergeist’s chance of success
is about one in a thousand, which means they can never get across a coherent message.”
“But how come they can get through, and we can’t?”
“Because we’re not mad. They are. Stark raving mad. And so, we’re going to capture one and transport it back to the apartment of your living friend. Once he’s there, he won’t be able to make contact with her, but let’s hope he can put enough of a spook into her to keep her on her guard. And if she is on her guard, maybe she’ll catch the killer by surprise. And if she sees the killer, maybe she’ll recognize him and report him to the police.”
“That’s a lot of maybes,” Jeremy said glumly.
“Have you got a better idea?”
“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m just …” Jeremy shook his thick brown hair. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”
The scientist muttered something in German under his breath, which Jeremy supposed was a curse of some sort, and then the two of them tiptoed up to the house.
Once inside, they didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary at first. It looked as if the rooms had been decorated in the 1960s and had never changed since—except for the worse. It was dark and damp, and strangely enough, Jeremy caught himself shivering.
“Who lives here … I mean, besides Big Number 24?” he whispered.
“An elderly couple. In my opinion, they’ll probably be passing over themselves in a short while. Both the owners are deaf as posts, and no one can figure out why ‘Big Number 24,’ as you refer to him, keeps trying to communicate with them. But he must have a monumental grudge against them, because he’s been knocking on their pipes for a good thirty years now. Their children have brought in dozens of plumbers, but none have been able to find the problem—go figure.”
Color of Angels' Souls Page 12