Color of Angels' Souls

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Color of Angels' Souls Page 26

by Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian


  “You are chasing us away, oh glorious Lili?”

  “Temporarily,” she added. “You will be too great a distraction for me. I will come to find you when our mission has been completed.”

  They slowly made their way out, tails between their legs. Before leaving, each Angel knelt in front of Lili and kissed her hand with devotion. All seven scowled at Jeremy as they left, and Jeremy got the same message loud and clear all seven times: “We’ll meet again, friend, and you’ll be sorry when we do.” Jeremy shuddered. Oh great, he had just set a new record! Seven enemies all at once, how about that? Things looked grim for the Brave Little Tailor … but this time, it wouldn’t be seven flies!

  When the last long-haired Adonis had finally left, Lili seemed to relax. She proudly gave Jeremy the guided tour of her apartment. At first, he couldn’t have cared less about her little trinkets, but soon realized that Lili had put together a very impressive art collection, made entirely of Mist. It was absolutely amazing. Jeremy recognized several pieces signed by the great masters. Donatello, the Italian sculptor who had died in 1466, had recreated just for Lili his famous David, one of the first nude sculptures in bronze from the Renaissance. The statue, which was made of black Mist, looked so real that Jeremy almost thought the young boy would stretch his legs and get down from the pedestal. Across from this work was another triumphant David by Michelangelo, this time made of white Mist. The two artists had never met (not while they were alive anyway!), because Donatello had died nine years before Michelangelo was born, but the younger man’s work had equaled—or even surpassed—the work of the master. The two glorious nudes seemed to be defying each other in silence. The furniture had been crafted by André-Charles Boulle, the greatest cabinetmaker of the seventeenth century, who had died in 1732. Jeremy couldn’t understand how the artist had been able to recreate polished wood, the warm tones of red tortoise shell and golden bronzes, but by compressing the Mist, it looked as if Boulle had been able to completely master the material. Everything Jeremy saw was absolutely magnificent. After their death, the masters had carried on with their work, using the mysterious and surprising Mist. As he discovered each new piece, Jeremy was just as flabbergasted each time. Even more so when he realized that Lili’s enormous sleeping chamber had been painted not only by Michelangelo, who had reproduced part of the Sistine Chapel, but also by Leonardo da Vinci! It was almost more than he could take. This time, the calculated indifference he was careful to display in front of Lili gave way to sincere admiration. The red-haired Angel had quite simply recreated an ephemeral museum.

  “What happens when the Mist starts to disappear?” he asked curiously.

  “You already saw at Flint’s apartment how the older Angels can conserve the Mist for years and years. But it’s true that over time it begins to break down, and eventually disappears. As soon as I notice some cracks appearing, I go find my friends, look at them longingly with my big green eyes, and persuade them to recreate their works for me … I just love art, don’t you?”

  Jeremy could only nod, unable to offer any more resistance. Yes, so did he. And he knew that he would love to meet the immortal masters. But now, what he really wanted to do was go find Allison. Ever since he’d arrived in Washington, he could feel that she had gotten closer to him—or rather, that he’d gotten closer to her. He was relieved, but couldn’t help wondering if it was all a figment of his imagination. Or was there really some type of connection between the two of them? He hadn’t talked about it with Lili, because he wasn’t so sure she would have appreciated hearing any intimate details about his relationship with Allison.

  “I’m pooped,” Lili suddenly announced. “We’ll go visit the White House a little bit later, then the Capitol and the Pentagon. Let’s hope our friends are there. But for now, let’s eat and get some rest. We both could use it—especially you, Jeremy.”

  It was true that he’d barely gotten any sleep over the past three days and was exhausted. He agreed, and Lili showed him his room. But before leaving, she hesitated at the door. For just a few seconds. Jeremy looked at her out of the corner of his eye, hoping and praying she wouldn’t get too close to him. The memory of that man ravishing her right in front of him flashed before his eyes. He had to admit it: He would have loved to have been in the shoes of the white-haired Angel. And fighting every day, every second to resist the irresistible Lili was a constant struggle.

  But the young girl decided not to put her spell on him. He wasn’t ready—not yet; she could tell.

  “What if we don’t find them?” she finally asked slowly.

  “We’ll find them,” Jeremy said.

  “But—”

  “We’ll find them! And Lili … thanks a lot for your help. I’ll see you later.”

  She could only stare at him in amazement, her emerald eyes gleaming. But she didn’t insist. She walked out of the room with great dignity, and Jeremy finally sighed with relief. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to resist Lili. Whatever it took, he had to find Allison, and fast!

  If he didn’t, he couldn’t promise anything.

  After a refreshing nap, they quickly ate some Mist and headed straight off to the White House. Lili knew that some of the most ancient Angels, both red and blue, had set up living quarters there, but Jeremy never could have imagined that the place would be swarming with so many Angels of every imaginable color. The Oval Office was like a firing range, with words of advice, orders, and loud voices shooting back and forth over the heads of the living. The agitation seemed to be at its peak around the president, and the whole room was filled with a feverish excitement.

  “Have the Angels declared World War Three or what?” Jeremy finally exclaimed, deafened by the noise.

  “Oh, it’s always like this,” Lili said with a captivating laugh. “The Reds yell advice at the president and his staff in order to create the maximum amount of fear and suffering, but they have to be careful not to get all the living killed. It’s hard to find a balance. The Blues on the other hand do their best to maintain peace and prosperity, but it’s hardly an easier task. Politicians, people in power, artists, visionaries, and survivors are usually more receptive to our suggestions, because they usually have a lot of imagination. That’s why we can be so effective. But as you can see for yourself, you have to yell at the top of your lungs to make the living hear you.”

  “I don’t see Allison anywhere,” was all Jeremy answered. He was still bent on finding the girl, and even the halls of power and all the influential Angels bustling around hadn’t fazed him.

  Lili let out a growl of displeasure that was hardly becoming of a young girl … or of an old Angel for that matter.

  “I give you a firsthand view of the most important power brokers from your former world, and all you can think of is finding your girlfriend?!”

  She looked so disgusted that Jeremy felt the need to justify himself: “That’s why we came here! To find her. To find them. That’s what Galileo said. That Flint would be in Washington.”

  Lili sighed.

  “Wait for me here. I’ll go ask some of the Blues.”

  She walked over to a dark-blue Angel who was floating over the president, yelling in his ear. For some reason, there were no Reds around. She interrupted him for a moment to ask him a question. He quickly snapped a response and then turned straight back to the president. Jeremy suddenly recognized the man: It was Franklin Delano Roosevelt! The thirty-second president of the United States, and the only man to have been elected more than twice to the office. The famous democrat who had created the New Deal and Social Security was heaping advice on the living president. Behind the Angel, Jeremy recognized other Blues. His heart missed a beat: The thin Angel with the black beard was Abraham Lincoln, and to his left was George Washington, who was talking to Benjamin Franklin. The most famous presidents and the founding fathers of America! Incredible. Jeremy completely forgot why he was there for a few seconds, transfixed by the scene. He would have loved to go over and t
alk to them, but the aids, cabinet members, and secretaries were surrounded by blue and red Angels, each trying to elbow past the other to get the best spot. It was impossible to move any closer.

  As Jeremy looked on in wonder, an old Red roughly pushed Roosevelt out of the way and began yelling into the President’s ear. Jeremy now understood why politicians often suffered from terrible headaches. It was hardly surprising with all those Angels yelling at them all the time!

  Unlike with the famous politicians, Jeremy didn’t recognize the Red who was now doing his best to influence the president. He was short and pudgy, and wore an elegant Mist suit. It looked like there were scars on his fa—

  Jeremy swallowed hard.

  Al Capone. The guy now yelling into the ear of the president of the United States was the infamous Chicago gangster! Without warning, the red Angel lifted his head and met Jeremy’s gaze. For an instant, he flashed a look at the young Angel filled with so much hate and hostility that Jeremy thought he’d frozen into a block of ice.

  He slowly backed away, one step after another, letting the mad rush of Angels swallow him up. He took up a new position off in a far corner of the Oval Office. He didn’t want to seem paranoid, but he had an awful feeling about the red Angel. It was as if Capone knew who he was, and was out to get him. Him, personally. But that was absolutely impossible.

  “He’s not here,” Lili yelled at him above the noise. She had suddenly appeared at his side, making him jump. I talked to two other Blues and a Red to get some information. Let’s go to the CIA and the Pentagon; then we’ll try the Capitol.”

  “Who’s not here?” Jeremy asked, still in shock.

  “What do you mean who?!” Lili huffed. “Flint, of course! What’s gotten into you, Jeremy?”

  He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the unpleasant sensation that was nagging at him.

  “No, no. Nothing. Let’s go.”

  The two of them checked in at all the seats of power in the capital, but had no luck. No one had seen Flint. After spending hours trying to figure out a way to find Allison, a crestfallen Jeremy finally agreed with Lili that they should head back to her place. As soon as they passed through the wall of her comfy apartment, Jeremy turned to face her.

  “We’re not going to get anywhere like this!” he said. “Do you have a list?”

  He could see the surprise in her limpid green eyes.

  “A list? A list of what?”

  “A list of the oldest, most powerful and most dangerous red Angels that Flint may have taken Allison to see?”

  Lili pursed her full lips.

  “Now what makes you think that Allison is with Flint?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Jeremy replied sardonically. “Maybe the fact that they both disappeared at exactly the same time?”

  “Allison may have left on her own, and Flint tried to follow her.”

  Jeremy could only stare at her, unable to respond. Could there have been a slight hint of jealousy in the beautiful Angel’s voice? But Lili had had thousands of years to perfect the smooth mask that she had chosen to wear. He couldn’t read anything on her face.

  Now it was his turn to shrug.

  “Well, for whatever reason, they’re both gone. Whether they left together or each one on their own doesn’t matter. All that matters is that we find her—I mean, them,” he quickly added with a glance at Lili.

  “No, there is no list,” she said. “I know the Great Ancients. In three months, there will be an important meeting between the Blues and the Reds. The Red decade is coming to a close, with its economic crisis, wars, and famine. Now the Blue decade is about to begin, and we’ll have ten years to try to turn things around. The meeting was initially supposed to take place just two weeks from now, but the Reds asked for a postponement.”

  “Three months! But that’s—”

  “A long time. But for us old Angels it’s nothing. Don’t forget that we’re almost immortal, Jeremy. We don’t have the same notion of time. We’ve learned to be patient.”

  He was tiring her, and Lili paused for a moment before adding: “Anyway, when the meeting is held, all the most powerful Angels in our world will be there, and Allison could ask any of a number of them for help. They’ll all be arriving over the next few weeks. We’ll find out where they are and ask them about Flint and Allison. Don’t worry; we’ll find them.”

  Jeremy was grateful to Lili for her encouragement, even if it didn’t cheer him up one little bit.

  The ensuing days were a living hell for Jeremy. Even he couldn’t understand why he was so despondent, so heartbroken. After a week had passed, he was still so impatient to find Allison that he thought he was going crazy. After a month, it was Lili whom he was driving crazy, and she soon did everything she could to avoid him. It was undoubtedly a good thing he hadn’t stayed in New York, or he probably would have spent all his time immersed in Allison’s things at her apartment before it was rented to someone else. He missed her terribly. The few hours of fitful sleep that he managed to get were filled with nightmares. He would dream of Allison, naked (why naked? His subconscious refused to tell him), crouching down in front of a horrible, obese Red, bloated with lies and treachery, who fed off the blackest, most vile emotions imaginable, while Flint stood behind her, stroking her hair and clouding her mind. And each time when he woke up he would feel like throwing up. But he now knew that in order to be strong, he had to keep eating. He forced himself to eat huge quantities of Mist and did a lot of exercise—way more than he had ever done when he was alive.

  One day, Connor, one of Lili’s worshippers who looked exactly like a famous black actor, stopped by the apartment. Jeremy was busy practicing his Katas. He had done a lot of judo when he was alive and had decided to take it up again. If he should ever find himself face-to-face with the killer again, it would be nice if he could at least defend himself.

  Connor, who had long black hair and slightly pointed ears (the most ridiculous thing Jeremy had ever seen in both his lives; he figured that the Angel wanted to look like Blade) quietly looked on for a moment, with his thick arms crossed over his naked, muscular chest. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy saw him nod his head and walk up to him. He bowed slightly and assumed a combat position.

  What the hell … ?

  Before he knew what hit him, Jeremy’s nose was smashed against the mat and his ears were ringing. Connor smiled and helped him to his feet, then gave Jeremy a few sharp taps on his arms and legs to correct his position, without saying a word the whole time. Jeremy opened his mouth to ask him what he was doing, but the black Angel assumed the fighting position once again and renewed his attack. Jeremy quickly moved out of the way. Connor smiled in approval, then grabbed hold of him by the chest, twisted him around, and smashed him down on the mat. Again. Furious now, Jeremy rose to his feet. Suddenly, all the frustration that had been pent up inside over the past few weeks erupted in full force, and he lashed out at the Angel like a madman. Connor was surprised for an instant, but managed to sidestep the attack like a big, graceful cat. When they finally left off, Jeremy was exhausted and drenched with sweat, but he was still standing—sore all over, but still standing. Connor also winced and stroked his ribs.

  From that day on, Connor became Jeremy’s personal trainer. Jeremy could never figure out why, because it was almost impossible to get a word out of him, but he was grateful to the Angel. For some reason, Connor only showed up when Lili wasn’t home, which was often the case. His presence helped keep Jeremy from going crazy, because unlike Connor, Jeremy talked all the time. He talked about himself, about his life before he passed over, and his new life, which was pretty miserable. And he talked about Allison.

  And then some more about Allison.

  And even more about Allison.

  And then again about All—

  To be honest, Jeremy told himself that if Connor had rambled on as much as he did, he probably would have whacked him on the head. But his brawny and patient instructor always liste
ned, never interrupting, except of course when he pinned him to the mat. During Jeremy’s moments of exaltation, when he cried, “I know I’ll find her!” and his moments of despair, when he complained, “I’ll never find her!”, the Angel kept listening.

  When he wasn’t training, Jeremy continued to scour the city, searching every place where Flint and Allison may have gone. Lili patiently accompanied him for the first two months, but then she decided she’d had enough of him when he refused to go see a movie or a play with her.

  “We can’t cut ourselves off from the world, Jeremy!” She was infuriated. “It’s out of the question! You shouldn’t forget how lucky we are: We can still do so many fun things, even if we live vicariously through the living. And believe me, when you’re feeling blue, going out to see Jay Leno or Jon Stewart make fun of the living can do you a world of good!”

  And she was right, of course. Sometimes she was gone for a few days at a time. Jeremy suspected that she was paying visits to her “little pets,” which probably included Connor, but he never talked about it.

  She would always leave a nice set of clothes behind for Jeremy to wear. He really didn’t care, since he was more than happy to just make himself a loincloth and a baby pin, but the strange, golden stain on his abdomen kept growing. He didn’t know how to make a shirt, so he didn’t have much of a choice except to put on what she left for him.

  As the weeks passed, the Great Ancients began to arrive in Washington in droves. Their sheer numbers were impressive, and their power and charisma seemed to curve space itself, and weigh on the city like a lead curtain. Without knowing why, the living residents of the city were on edge. Dogs barked, fights kept breaking out, and crime increased. The police were soon overwhelmed, and inevitably mistakes were made. And all because the Angels were in town for a meeting. The whole thing kind of scared Jeremy. He himself fed off their Mist, but he was becoming less and less at ease with the relationship the Angels maintained with the living.

  After spending so many hours behind the doors of the White House and the Capitol, Jeremy soon became familiar with the way it all worked. He could witness the enormous frustration of the president and his team day after day—and also of the blue Angels. The world was sick and the living hadn’t found the cure. It was like trying to fix a tire that was punctured all over the place, and they kept gluing on little patches, hoping to keep the little holes from bursting. But with the subprime crisis and all the Madoffs in the world, the Reds had already managed to make millions of people miserable.

 

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