Lucian Divine

by Renee Carlino

  “Not exactly two thousand years,” I mumbled.

  “I told you what you have to do.”

  “Kill her?” I shook my head. “I could never hurt her. Never.”

  “Well then, you better learn to accept your fate, buddy. Start following the rules unless you want to be schlepping drinks, dressed like a Wookiee until the sun explodes.”

  We laughed then, full belly laughs until tears were pouring from my eyes. I imitated a Wookiee sound.

  “Good, you’re practicing. Now show me that flip,” Zack said.

  I looked at my watch; we only had about five minutes left. We were both pretty drunk, and I was not in any shape to be doing aerobatic stunts. I stood anyway, set my wings out wide, and flew straight up. I arched my back, flipped, and a second later, everything was black.

  I WOKE UP trying to figure out if the whole night had been a drug-induced dream. “Lucian,” I whispered, and there was nothing. Someone had to have drugged me.

  It was a Saturday. I had planned to go for a run then work on a few designs for Tracey’s stupid denim line. Before I left, I peeked into Brooklyn’s mess of a room and spotted her lying on her stomach on top of a pile of dirty clothes strewn across her bed. She was sound asleep and drooling, and her room smelled faintly of bad breath and old pizza. I smiled.

  After shutting the door quietly, I jogged down the stairs, feeling unusually good for having been drugged the night before. I wondered if Beckett, that freak, had slipped me something or if it had all just been a vivid dream. I smiled and laughed out loud. It had to have been a dream. Having a sexy guardian angel that I wanted to get naked with was just too good to be true. Then on my way down the steps outside of my building, I stepped on him.

  Yep, I stepped on my guardian angel, and he groaned. He was lying on the concrete, facedown. Someone had stuck a piece of cardboard over him as if he was a homeless person. When I pulled the cardboard away, he turned and looked up at me through squinted, swollen eyes. I gasped when I noticed his face was bruised and bloodied.

  “Lucian!” I got on my knees.

  “I’m okay, Evey,” he mumbled. “I drank too much and had a little collision with the side of your building.”

  He sat up slowly, holding a hand to his head. When he tried to stand, he swayed to one side. I hitched an arm around his waist and led him back up the stoop.

  “Come up to my apartment, and I’ll clean your face,” I said, and then something occurred to me. I looked at him pointedly. “Did you drug me last night?”

  “Of course not. I made you tea… so ungrateful.” He huffed, shaking his head, and then grimaced and held his free hand to his neck.

  “You’re a mess. I’m trying to understand how a celestial being with magical

  powers, assigned to protect me, is a drunk who runs into the sides of buildings. This doesn’t bode well for my future.”

  “Such a smartass, Evey, really. I technically flew into the side of your building, but that’s neither here nor there. Zack wanted me to show him a trick. You were sound asleep and safe. I threw caution to the wind.”

  “Who is Zack? And I have a feeling you were throwing back a hell of a lot more than just caution.”

  “You’re right, a bottle of whiskey—single malt Scotch to be exact—and Zack is my best friend. He’s an angel too.”

  “So you guys got trashed and decided to fly into walls?”

  Lucian sighed the way a person does when they’re just too tired to explain themselves. I helped him up the stairs then led him to my bedroom, hoping Brooklyn wouldn’t notice.

  He sat on the edge of my bed and held his hands to his stomach. “I know I broke some ribs, but I heal fast, so don’t worry about me, okay?”

  He must have seen the concern on my face. He looked messed up. His hair was going in every direction, there was dried blood on his face, and his lip was split and bleeding. I touched my thumb to his lip and wiped the blood away. He looked up at me, squinting. We were frozen for a moment, staring at each other. There was reverence in his eyes, the same as what I felt for him.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  I looked down at my thumb and watched the blood fade, like it was being absorbed into my skin.

  “I’ll get a warm washcloth,” I said before scurrying off to the bathroom. In the bathroom, I stared into the mirror. Is this really happening? I shook my head, took a deep breath, and then busied myself getting a washcloth and a cup of water before returning to the room.

  He took the water and smelled it. “Do you have anything stronger?”

  “Really? Can’t you just zap that and turn it into wine like you did before?”

  “Only wine. You-know-who stole that idea from me, by the way. But it’s complicated. I can only do it for other people.”

  “Maybe you should just drink the water. It looks like you could use it.” I wiped the blood from his forehead and cheek with the cloth.

  He closed his eyes. “Mmm, that feels good. Thank you.” He swallowed, looking hesitant. “I have another injury, but I don’t want to scare you.”

  “What is it?”

  He looked into his lap at his trembling hands, and then suddenly, swoosh… behind him, the most beautiful set of large black wings extended from the sides of his back. He squeezed his eyes closed.

  “Oh my God, they’re beautiful.” I stumbled back in awe, holding my hand to my chest.

  They weren’t what I expected. The wings were large, thick, shiny, and black. On his left side, a drop of blood fell from a cluster of feathers at the base of the wing. Lucian inched the wing back in toward his body as he winced, his face scrunching up in pain.

  “Wait, let me clean it,” I said.

  His head drooped, and his shoulders slouched in such a defeated way that it made me cry. Seeing his shame saddened me, and my tears fell onto his feathers as I brushed them with the cloth. Lucian sagged even further into himself.

  “When you feel pain, Evey, so do I.” I thought it must work exactly the same way for me. “Please don’t hurt for me,” he said softly.

  I swallowed hard, trying to regain control. When I was through cleaning the blood, he closed the wings and they were gone. I felt around his back, but he shook his head.

  “You won’t be able to feel them unless I want you to, and right now, I just want to lie down and rest.”

  “I thought you didn’t sleep?”

  “I don’t, but if I rest, I’ll heal quicker. Will you do that with me? Rest with me?”

  “Yes, of course.” I would have done anything he asked. I had the distinct sense that he wasn’t able to rest unless I did. I kicked off my running shoes, climbed up to the head of the bed, and propped myself on the pillows. I patted my chest. “I’ll hold you.”

  He looked tortured, but he climbed up the bed with me anyway, laid his head on my chest, and closed his eyes. “I’m supposed to do this for you,” he said quietly.

  “We can do it for each other.”

  “You don’t understand.” He sighed.

  He was right—I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t know if I was crazy, dreaming, or dead, but something about Lucian, about the way he smelled and spoke, put me at ease. I should have felt scared, but I wasn’t. I wanted to ask Brooklyn to come into my room to see if he was real, but I was afraid he’d leave and I didn’t want him to leave… ever. I fell asleep almost instantly to the rhythm of his breaths.

  When I woke up, he was no longer lying with me. He was standing above me, next to my bed, looking gloriously handsome and clean.

  “Did you shower?” I asked.

  He smiled, lifting his index finger to his mouth. “Shh.”

  Something had changed in his demeanor. There was resignation and surrender, and when I looked closely into his squinting eyes, I also saw veneration… serenity… love. I can’t explain what exactly I saw, just that I could feel all of the feelings that he had for me by simply looking at him.

  “I’ll always be here for you,
Evey,” he whispered. Then he pressed his thumb to my forehead.

  “PINKY!” BROOKLYN YELLED from the other room. “I made pancakes. Come and eat.”

  Brooklyn loved to cook, but when she did, she made a huge mess and then she would just leave it. I went into the kitchen feeling groggy. Sitting at the small round table in the corner, I scanned the countertops littered with bowls, plates, eggshells, a milk carton, and trash. I rolled my eyes. Brooklyn was playing the song “Clouds” by the Borns loudly from the iPod dock while she danced around flipping pancakes. Not a care in the world.

  “Last night was weird, huh?” she yelled over the music.

  I put two pancakes on a plate and drizzled syrup over them. “Yeah! Can you turn it down?” I had a vague sense of déjà vu.

  Brooklyn turned down the music. “So what happened with Beckett, and why were you acting all creepy weird in the living room by yourself last night?”

  What was she talking about? “I wasn’t acting weird. Beckett got into this stupid music playing at the Star Wars bar. I think he had them turn it up or something, I don’t know. I just left him there and then felt bad about it, so I went back and he was gone. I sat at the bar and had one more drink, alone, before coming back home. Uneventful.”

  She turned around and smiled. “Whatever you say. You were acting weird.”

  The details from the night before were a bit foggy, and this morning was even foggier. “Why are you cooking pancakes at two p.m.?”

  “Well, because we both slept in and pancakes are yummy,” she squealed.

  “I think I was headed out for a run, then I went back to sleep. Ugh, I have a headache. I drank too much last night.” My head was pounding. I was staring into the open refrigerator.

  “What are you looking for?” Brooklyn asked.

  “OJ.”

  “Uh, it’s right in front of your face, weirdo.”

  It was centered in front, on the top shelf.

  “Oh.”

  She knocked lightly on my head. “Hello? Yeah, last night you were even more out of it. Weird how you were like, ‘Do you believe in guardian angels?’ Um, okay, Pinky, what’d you and Beckett smoke?”

  “Guardian angels?” I stood there, stunned, holding a box of orange juice in the middle of the kitchen.

  An image of a man popped into my mind, a beautiful man with striking blue eyes and dark hair. I blinked, trying to recall where the image came from. Was it a dream?

  “YOU FUCKED UP,” Zack said, appearing beside me in Evey’s kitchen as we watched the disaster unfold. “You didn’t zap her good enough.”

  “No, I did.”

  “Look, I can tell she’s thinking about you. If you had zapped her good enough—oh, fuck yeah,” Zack mumbled as he looked at his phone. “My wide receiver scored eighteen points today. I’m killin’ it like a boss!”

  He had zero attention span from all the screen time and video games. I glanced at him. “Is that your sports betting thing?”

  “No, moron, it’s fantasy football.”

  Evey and Brooklyn were sitting at the table, eating pancakes and chatting about some new guys Brooklyn had met. I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore them while Zack and I sat on the counter undetected.

  “Dude, get off your phone and talk to me. Isn’t that why you’re here?” I asked.

  Still staring at his screen, he said, “No, I’m here because your weird life is entertaining to me. You know what I think you need? A hobby. You have one soul, and that’s why you’re losing your shit. You need to do something for Lucian, for yourself.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe knitting. You can’t make one person the center of your universe. You’ll go crazy all cooped up in here. Get a hobby. Take up craft-beer making or join a book club.”

  I was trying to ignore Zack as I watched Evey inhale her pancakes. I zeroed in on a drop of syrup next to her mouth. I wanted to lick it off.

  “I zapped her good,” I said mindlessly. “I don’t know why she’s short-circuiting over it.”

  “Apparently you didn’t. You have to hold your thumb down until you smell something burning.”

  I turned to face him, my jaw on the floor. “Are you kidding me? Is that what you do? You’re frying people; you know that, right? It affects them.”

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Yeah, really, it does. I can’t believe I’m the one who’s always in trouble. Anyway, shouldn’t you go check in with your souls?”

  “They’re fine. They’re eating and binge watching Top Chef.”

  I believed that their behavior was a direct result of Zack frying them every time he slipped up. Those people ate and watched TV all day and never left their house. But I was the immoral one?

  I directed my attention back to Brooklyn and Evey’s conversation when I caught Brooklyn saying, “Well, you can get a little action tonight and redeem yourself. You’re going out with us. Joel is bringing Keith, and he’s gorgeous.”

  “I feel like I’m gonna puke,” I told Zack.

  “See, you need a hobby. Want to start a blog? Let’s start a blog, dude.”

  “No,” I said, watching Evey agree to go out with Brooklyn. “Geez, for the love of God! These girls can’t stay home and read a book?”

  “They’re young and hot,” Zack said.

  “Stop, please.”

  “Gotta go,” he said, and then he was gone.

  I followed Evey into her bedroom, not something I normally did. She plopped onto her bed, blew her long brown hair out of her face, and stared at the ceiling.

  “Guardian angels,” she whispered, shook her head and rolled to her side.

  I wished I knew what she was thinking. I saw her smell the pillow where I had been lying earlier. She smiled faintly while moving her hand down below, between her legs.

  Oh God. Heaven help me now.

  I blinked and found myself out on the stoop, sitting next to a derisive Mona.

  “Lucian, Lucian, Lucian. You think I don’t know what’s going on?”

  “I know you do. I can’t control what’s happening to me. Please, Mona, reassign me. You have to before I do something awful.” I was begging now.

  “You’ll never see her again. I’ll send you off to Sarmi first thing tomorrow. Not too many angels can speak Liki as well as you can.”

  “Well, that’s true—I am very good at a lot of things.” I smirked. “Please, you have to keep me here. Reassign me? I’ll stay away from her, I promise.” I knew I couldn’t though.

  “‘I’ll stay away from her’? Oh please. It’s obvious you’re full of shit. Give it another week. I hope you start making better decisions. And Lucian… you didn’t zap her well enough,” she said, before disappearing.

  “Wait, Mona, come back.”

  I got a bottle of whiskey and sat out on the stoop for hours, just staring off into space. Abigail was sitting next to me, ignoring me as per usual.

  She finally looked up from her phone and said, “Hey, I know I’ve never asked you this before, but will you cover my shift tonight, since they’ll be together and what’s her name is your only one?”

  I shook my head and sighed. “First of all, we are not fucking waiters. We don’t cover each other’s shifts. And second of all, her name is Evelyn. I think you know that.”

  She made an ugly-bitch face. “Ew, your breath stinks. You’re such an asshole drunk, Lucian. Get a life.”

  I could hear Evey and Brooklyn talking about getting ready to go out. It was getting dark. I thought about Abigail’s offer and wondered if I could use it to my advantage “What’s in it for me?”

  She shrugged. “I’ll give you a blow job?”

  “I don’t want your disgusting mouth anywhere near me.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Okay fine. I won’t play eyes and ears for Mona anymore.”

  “Excuse me, what? What are you talking about?”

  “Who do you think I’m texting all day? I pick up extra cash as an informant.
”

  “Seriously, an informant?” I threw open my arms and wings. My anger was boiling over. “You’re all fucking shameless.”

  “If it weren’t for me watching you watching her getting off from the smell of you—which, by the way, is seriously gross—Mona never would have swooped in to save your ass. You would have regretted it, perv.”

  I suddenly felt very resolute. “Abigail, I will cover your ‘shift’ every Saturday night for a year,”—I held up air quotes when I said the word shift—“but you have to promise me something.”

  “What?” she said.

  “No more snooping around, no more telling Mona things, and no more shit-talking to me.” I lowered my voice. “We can help each other, okay?”

  Before that night, I’d had no idea that was how Mona found things out. I guess you could do a job for two centuries and still be in the dark.

  Abigail appeared to be contemplating my offer. “Fine.”

  When I overheard Evey talking to Brooklyn about a lace thong, I took a swig of whiskey and tried to focus on Abigail. “What plans do you have anyway, if we’re all working?”

  “I’m seeing someone, and he gets his shifts covered too.”

  I snickered. “We’re not supposed to make commitments to each other. Don’t you know that?”

  “You and I just made a commitment, didn’t we? Anyway, I wouldn’t start talking to me about the rules if I were you. At least I’m dating one of us. Something is off in you for even being attracted to what’s her face.”

  “It’s Evelyn, and piss off, Abigail. Go, I’ll take it from here. You’re free to go see your man.”

  “Angel,” she corrected, before disappearing. She had to get in one final dig.

  A second later, Zack swooped over from across the street, flapping his shitty wings. “She is such a stuck-up bitch.” He hated the pretty ones because they never gave him the time of day.

  “Whatever. She’s helping me out.”

  “Helping you do what?”

  “I’m not zapping Evey again. I don’t want to mess with her anymore. Did you know that Abigail tells Mona shit?”