Color of Angels' Souls

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Color of Angels' Souls Page 36

by Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian


  That’s when Jeremy did exactly what he had planned when he decided to turn into water: He transformed himself into acid, including the watery part of him now inside Khan’s stomach. An acid so powerful and corrosive that the killer immediately began to melt away, incapable of fleeing, incapable of reacting, his bloodcurdling screams filling Jeremy’s ears.

  A deathly silence came over the crowd.

  Jeremy hadn’t forgotten what he’d been told: The only way to kill an Angel was to make him disappear completely. And he had also realized, unlike Khan with his hideous fangs, that he should never even think of eating his enemy. He didn’t want to turn into a Chimera. And Mephistopheles was undoubtedly hoping that Jeremy would devour Khan and turn into a red Archangel.

  In a few seconds it was all over. There was nothing left of Khan. Completely drained now, Jeremy recreated his body and slowly crawled out of the pit.

  The whole stadium suddenly erupted. The applause washed over Jeremy like a warm rain. All the Angels were on their feet, young and old, Blues and Reds, clapping their hands and stamping their feet. Jeremy slowly raised a hand in acknowledgement, barely able to stand. He was glad they’d enjoyed the show, but all he wanted right then was Allison and a bed. And, for the first time, not necessarily in that order.

  Then a blue wave rushed over him, taking him into its warm embrace, renewing his strength and healing his wounds. He raised his head toward the blue Archangels and nodded in thanks. He saw Allison race down from the stands to join him in the arena. She quickly rushed into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time, overcome with emotion.

  “My God, my God, I was so afraid!”

  “You can just call me Jeremy,” he joked. “God sounds a little pretentious.”

  “You jerk!”

  “Well make up your mind! Is it God or jerk?”

  She only laughed, kissing him over and over. Nothing else mattered now. At least, not for a few more seconds, until Mephistopheles suddenly loomed over them, his face twisted with rage. Jeremy was about to make another joke, but it stuck in his throat.

  “Why didn’t you devour him?” he growled. “It would have given you enormous power!”

  “Because that was exactly what you wanted me to do, Mephisto! You knew very well that Khan wasn’t as strong as me, that he couldn’t control the Mist and his body as well as I did. You wanted me to eat him. Which any other Angel probably would have done. I suppose that after I’d eaten half of Khan, I would have become Red. And when I saw my color change, I probably would have spared his life. And in the end, you would have gotten two red Archangels, even if one of them would have been severely diminished.”

  Mephistopheles scowled at them, barely able to control his fury.

  “It’s not so easy to corrupt you, little Archangel.”

  He bent down low, until Jeremy could feel his hot breath on his face.

  “But you haven’t seen the last of me, Jeremy Galveaux. We’ll meet again! Very soon, I promise!”

  And before Jeremy or the blue Archangels had time to react, he had already flown away.

  The Angels were all leaving the stadium, talking excitedly. The Archangels scattered all the Mist and decided to go back to the Mandarin Oriental to celebrate Jeremy’s victory. He had done more than just win the battle against Khan and Mephistopheles. He had also won thirty years of respite for the living, thirty years during which the Blues would be able to work to repair all the evil caused by the Reds. And for the young Archangel, that was his greatest victory. Even better: By eliminating the red Archangel, Jeremy was sure that he had changed the balance of power in the world of Angels. For the first time in centuries, there would now be five blue Archangels and only four red Archangels. Good would finally win out over Evil.

  The blue Archangels were euphoric, and all of Washington was filled with incredible feelings of joy and accomplishment. The living could feel it too. A few days later, the deadlock in Congress ended and things began to calm down at the White House. It would take some time, but there would be bright days ahead for the living, and for the world.

  In the ensuing weeks, several decades-old dictatorships toppled in countries all around the world. The winds of change were blowing, and the people were beginning to fight for their rights and freedom. It looked as if the blue Archangels had rolled up their sleeves and gotten right down to work.

  As for Jeremy, he was still tired, even after receiving the healing blue waves. He spent the days following his combat in bed with Allison, who didn’t find him quite so tired after all. But since Jeremy was now a living legend (or actually, a dead legend), they were constantly bothered by admiring Angels, both Blues and Reds, who came to congratulate him. They decided to get away from it all for a while. But first, there were two or three important things that Jeremy needed to take care of. He went to visit his mother first. Once Ventousi had confessed, Claire realized that her husband wasn’t responsible for her son’s murder. Jeremy strengthened her feelings of love for Frank Tachini (true, Jeremy wasn’t overjoyed by the idea, but his mother deserved to be happy). He also asked Tetisheri to do a little bit of detective work for him, and she was only too happy to help out. It turned out that the infamous red Angel who had terrorized his little sister actually had been killed, but it was by Tachini’s bodyguards when he was trying to assassinate their boss. Claire of course knew nothing about it, and when Jeremy heard the news, he hoped with all his heart that his family would now be safe, since his stepfather had liquidated all of his dodgy business dealings.

  He encouraged Clark to turn Frankenstein over to Angela. The little dog would be much more happy in her big house than in the model’s small apartment. The little girl was immediately taken with both the dog and with Clark. Her sad little face finally began to brighten. Angela would never forget Jeremy, but she had found a bit of a replacement in Clark. He quickly became like a big brother to the little girl, which helped him to heal the wounds caused by the loss of Allison. And all with Claire’s blessing (OK, with a little encouragement from Jeremy, too).

  In his prison cell, Ventousi soon learned that he had revealed his secret formula for nothing, because his son turned out to be completely healthy. He howled with rage, to Allison’s great pleasure. She wasn’t mad at her killer anymore because, thanks to him, she had found complete happiness. But she was still glad to see him get what he deserved.

  There was still one last thing that Jeremy couldn’t figure out. While they were relaxing one evening after a long day making the world of the living more harmonious, and after giving Allison yet another kiss on the nape of the neck, Jeremy suddenly remembered something he had been wanting to ask her.

  “In the arena, just when I was about to die, I heard your voice. In my head. You saved me. How did you do it, and even more importantly, how did you know what to say to me? You wouldn’t be an Archangel in disguise by any chance, would you?” he teased.

  Allison rolled her eyes.

  “Thanks, but no thanks! I wouldn’t want to be an Archangel for anything in the world! No, it wasn’t me. It was Lili.”

  Jeremy suddenly perked up.

  “Lili?”

  “That’s right,” Allison smiled. “Remember when I told you I still hadn’t forgiven you for sleeping with her?”

  Jeremy swallowed nervously. He could tell that he hadn’t heard the last of it.

  “Well, now I forgive you. No, even better: I offer you my congratulations. Because you had such an incredible influence on our femme fatale that, when she saw Khan killing you, she ran over to me in a panic. She told me that two Angels who truly love each other are ‘connected,’ and that I had to warn you that your fight with Khan wasn’t a physical combat, and that you had to beat him mentally. I did what she said, and it worked! You owe your life to her.”

  Jeremy blew on his fingernails, then rubbed them against his chest, quite full of himself.

  “What can I say, my dear, except that your husband is a love machine!”

  Alliso
n groaned.

  “Well, I’ll let you have that one. But I’m warning you, little Blue: You ever think about doing anything like that again and I’ll skin you alive, Archangel or no Archangel, you got that?!”

  Jeremy toppled her over backward and looked deep into her magnificent blue eyes, filled with love.

  “There’s no one but you, Allison. Now and forever. I love you.”

  A few days later, Michael, who suddenly realized that Allison and Jeremy were working their fingers to the bone trying to spread happiness on Earth, ordered them to take a few days vacation. They tried to protest but he wouldn’t hear a word of it. Although the two young Angels thought it was weird to go on a “vacation” in the afterlife, they still liked the idea. He sent them to a beautiful, half-empty hotel on the ocean. The place was perfect: They had any of a number of empty rooms to choose from, and could feed off the mellow Mist of the vacationers. The two lovers took long walks in the surrounding countryside, and soon realized that it was nearly impossible for them to spend even more than a few minutes separated from each other. Their perfect harmony was so obvious and wonderful that it amazed them a little more each day.

  One morning, they were surprised to see Einstein at their door, just as grumpy as ever. He finally admitted that he missed the two of them, and Allison and Jeremy were only too happy to let him share their happy getaway.

  One day while they were taking a long walk through a sweet-smelling prairie, and Albert, who was in pure rapture as he contemplated the beautiful flowers, was explaining to them how he had proven the existence of molecules and Brownian motion by observing pollen floating on the surface of water, and Allison had just begun to crack up with laughter because the boy physicist hadn’t watched where he was walking and tripped over a clod of earth, and everything seemed absolutely right in the world, Jeremy gazed up at the sky.

  What he saw almost made his brain short circuit, and his heart began beating wildly in his chest.

  To his left was an immense and breathtakingly beautiful red, androgynous face, staring down at him as if he were nothing more than a little insect waiting to be squashed.

  To his right, above the clouds, was a blue face just as tremendous and sublime, who contemplated him with infinite kindness …

  … and gave him a wink.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  To my nearest and dearest, my loving husband, Philippe, and my two wonderful daughters, Diane and Marine, who wouldn’t give me a moment’s rest while they read The Color … because I wasn’t writing this strange story fast enough for them; with a special acknowledgement for Philippe’s comment: “Oh my God, you actually wrote sex scenes!” which I thought was hilarious. So perfect!

  To my mother, France, who continues to fight so courageously, and my little sister, Cécile, who is just as courageous and is the epitome of bravery; to her husband, Didier; Paul and Anna; to the Audouin family; Grandpa Gérard; Jean-Luc; Corinne; Lou; Thierry; Marylène; and Léo.

  To Thomas and Ann-Marie, Jacques and Martine, my best and most faithful friends through it all. Sorry to have been so absent lately; I know I’ve been out of it and I promise that in … oh, around 2015 or so, things should calm down a bit.

  To Christophe, who, in addition to being a colleague for the production and creation of music albums for Clara Chocolate (it’s been so much fun writing songs!), has also become a friend.

  To Essaï, who shared a few thoughts with me about “boys” to make Jeremy more realistic, many thanks. You’re a great singer, author, composer, actor, dancer … and I’ve heard you also make great coffee!

  To my two amazing editors, Leonello Brandolini who, for four years, never gave up trying to convince me to write this book one day, and Glenn Tavennec, whose impeccable perfectionism and great talent are a source of never-ending joy.

  To everyone at Robert Laffont who worked tirelessly right up to the very end to make this book something astonishing and also a magnificent object. I only have one thing to say: Bravo for the nose!

  To Laurent Bonelli, an Angel who left us much too early, this book is also dedicated to you.

  And to my Taraddicts, of course, and above all Noémie, who also insisted year after year that I write this book, and also Guillaume and Nina. You are nothing short of extraordinary.

  I am so lucky to have all of you as friends, husband, children, and readers: It can appear that this world of ours is falling apart because people don’t share enough love with one another … You’re living proof of the contrary. I love you all.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  With her Tara Duncan series, Sophie Audouin-Mamikonian has become the most widely read teen fantasy author in France. Her second teen series, Indiana Teller, explores the myths of werewolves and time travel. She has also published a series for children, Clara Chocolate, and a thriller for adults, La Danse des obèses.

  The Color of Angels’ Souls, the first of a two-book series, is her first novel for teens and young adults.

  All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Originally published in France as La Couleur de l’âme des Anges

  Translated from French by Jeffrey Probst

  Copyright © 2012 by Éditions Robert Laffont, S.A., Paris

  English translation © 2012 by Éditions Robert Laffont

  978-1-4804-4263-4

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