by R. J. Blain
“I don’t know. I hadn’t gotten that far into my research. I’ll need a few days to get a full list of participants.”
It amazed me Juan had gotten so much information as it was in such a short period of time. “How did you learn all this in the first place?”
“The security business is really a business of knowledge. It’s much easier to protect someone when I know what I have to protect them from. You’re going to be a challenge. And no, Dean. You can’t eliminate them yet.”
“Yet,” Dean echoed. “Clarify the yet.”
“If someone threatens her while you’re around, I won’t tell Mom and Dad until after the trial. And I’ll ask Clarence to handle your trial.”
“Clarence?”
“An angel. He owes me a favor, and he’ll have no problem informing the court Dean ate a human in defense of another. Particularly, in defense of the mare he wishes to breed with. They take that seriously. For some reason, unicorns are prized exotics they wish to preserve, and we’re not exactly rabbits on the breeding department. Someone thought it was a good idea to give unicorns heightened rights to preserve our species. I mean, it’s only a few meals, right?”
“That is disgusting. Please don’t eat any humans you kill on my behalf, Dean.”
“But I really should clean up after myself, Layla.”
“No. You may stomp on the body, but you may not eat the body. Make someone else pay for the funeral. And does his soul really deserve to be guided to the afterlife?”
“Yes. Straight to the nastiest hell I can find. We can nudge souls in the direction we want them to go. I would not be a kind shepherd.”
At a complete loss of what to say or think, I stared at him, my mouth hanging open.
“She’s definitely not a demon or a devil. She’d be delighting in that if she were.” Juan circled me, looking me over. “She’s not a muse. She would’ve understood me if she was a muse. She’s not an angel, either. At least not of the Christian faith or the similar faiths. I don’t know what you are, but I want to find out, damn it. I hate not knowing something.”
“Muse?” I asked. “What’s that?”
Juan pointed at my art supplies. “Muses are Greek divines with an affiliation for the arts. There are nine of them at any given time, and a new one shows up when one dies. Muses can learn any language because art goes beyond all boundaries, and language is arguably an art. Muses can be a security problem, as they’ll want to steal from museums to own art they fall in love with. They’ll fixate on some art and refuse to stop until they possess it or get their fill. I’ve had to tango with a muse before. Honestly, I’m a little disappointed. Watching Dean try to handle a muse would’ve been interesting. Whatever you are, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Unicorns can bond even to divines, although it’s rare. And since conversion doesn’t remove what you were before you become a unicorn, you can be converted and still be what you are now. It’s a good deal for you. Except the eating people part, but Mom and Dad will teach you on deer. You might need the skill one day. And on a battlefield, you’ll see why our job is important. Otherwise, there’d be a lot of ghosts in the world. We help them cross if they lose their way during a battle. That’s common.”
“You’re sure I won’t have to eat people if I agree to be converted?”
With a faint smile, Juan shook his head. “In modern times, we only do it if we’re shepherding lost souls, and it’s not what you think. You’ll understand after your conversion. You’ll be able to see the lost. They want to go, and we want them to go. It takes flesh and blood for us to send them on their way, but we can do it with their bones or ash, too. It’s just harder. I’m from a rather bloodthirsty culture, so I’m far more enthusiastic about our duty than the rest of the family. Well, Mom gets pretty vicious sometimes, but while she’ll lead the charge to the battlefield and even join in the fray, she’s otherwise pacifistic. She’s a lover until she gets onto a battlefield. Honestly, she’s terrifying, but please don’t tell her I said that.”
“If I’m not human, what am I?”
“It’s hard losing your sense of identity,” Juan said, and his expression softened. “I don’t have an answer for you. All I know is there’s no way you’re a human. But you’re something—and you’re probably something special. Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide you in North Carolina’s legal system for sixty years, and they used every level of the judicial system to do it. You might even be older. They had a note that you appeared a certain age when you were entered into the system, but I wasn’t able to find anything concrete. While the records I found listed your parents, you don’t have a birth certificate. It’s entirely possible the people listed as your parents aren’t even your parents. Their deaths would just legalize you entering the system, but until we find proof of who you actually are, anything is possible.”
“But I remember my mother.”
“That woman wasn’t your mother. As far as I know, she could’ve been a cradle robber, but she wasn’t your mother; that much was confirmed in the files I found. Where you came from is a mystery. I’ll do my best to solve it. Since you seem to be a long-lived species, it’s entirely possible you were stolen, and your parents are still alive. Dean will not be happy to fight your real parents for you, but I’ll find it entertaining. It’s possible you’re the child of a divine or two. It’s not uncommon for children of the divine to have many of the traits of their parents. A muse for a mother might be an option. But muses don’t tend to be quite so disgustingly pure.”
“Could she be the child of a very odd triad?” Dean asked. “That would make some sense. Her kleptomaniac tendencies could be a contribution of her demonic ancestry, her general temperament from her angelic ancestry, and her artistic ability from her muse mother. Usually angels fall in with humans, but it’s possible, isn’t it?”
Juan frowned and considered me with deep lines creasing his forehead. “There was no DNA record. We could get a meter brought in and I could ask Clarence to confirm her heritage. The triad theory is interesting, but I’m not sure how plausible it’d be. The pantheons tend to get upset when their divines mingle. It confuses things. It’s bad enough when their children mingle. I doubt she’s the direct child of a triad, but if you had a muse who took a human man, and the child of a triad, and they had a child, someone like Layla might be born. There are a lot of cases where weird mixes are showing up and coming into their power. But she’s been hidden in the system a long time. She would have to be one of the first grandchildren of a divine to be born this emergence. But that would make her age about right.”
“Do you want to know, Layla?”
Already tired of not knowing who I was or why I’d been incarcerated for even longer than I thought, I nodded. “I do.”
“Then I’ll call in that favor. I expect it won’t be long. Hold in there for a while, Layla. You’ll have answers sooner than later, especially if you have angelic blood. With rare exception, angels are sensitive about this sort of thing, even when they have to watch from a distance because He won’t let them interfere in the workings of the mortal world. If we invite the hosts of heaven to us, they may meddle or they may not; it depends on Him.”
All I could do was what I always did, which involved waiting for answers I might never get. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
Dean shook his head. “Angels hate injustice. One already got you a cupcake because she recognized the injustice of your situation. But nobody asked her what you are. The worst we’ll learn is that Clarence doesn’t know, and the DNA test isn’t conclusive.”
“And if he knows or the test is conclusive?”
“We’ll deal with whatever happens when it happens,” Dean promised. “Your heritage doesn’t define you. You’re you, and what you learn today won’t change anything.”
I wanted to believe him, but my doubts silenced my voice. I nodded, and I hoped my acceptance of his claim didn’t become a lie.
Chapter Ten
Juan made a phone call an
d said, “Clarence, I’d like to call in that favor you owe me.”
A moment later, an angel popped into the room in a flash of golden light. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment.”
Despite having witnessed angels pop in and out of existence before, I had to stop myself from grabbing the nearest blunt object and making good use of it. I shook from the effort of containing my initial instinct to remove the threat.
“We need to know what Layla is, who her family is, and if she was stolen. I want to call in my favor to learn everything we can about her. I did research on her through the prison system; everything I found indicates she’s been a victim for a long time.”
The angel strode towards to me and I tensed.
“It is not like you to use something as valuable as a boon from an angel purely for another’s sake.”
“Well, my brother is interested in her and he’s family, which will make her family. Sure, I’m an asshole, but family is family. She doesn’t know what family means; I’m showing her.”
“It looks more like you are showing her that death through a heart attack is a legitimate possibility.” The angel’s amusement helped, and my heart rate slowed to something a little saner.
Angels needed to visit Earth and laugh. The world would be a better place.
“Layla, in case no one has told you, angels are insufferable assholes, and they take a great amount of pride in this.” Juan glared at the angel. “I’m asking for a favor, not a hard time.”
“You amuse me.” The angel stretched his wings, revealing blue and green bands of color on his feathers. “I can do as you ask. The answer may complicate matters, however.”
“Everything is already complicated. There’s an extensive art ring that’s been using her for at least fifty years. She deserves a life, one that isn’t made of prison walls and the profit of others. We have a theory about her possible heritage.”
“As it is tiring to delve into the past or future, tell me what you can. I will then do the rest of the work as promised and fulfill my favor to you.”
“Some sixty years ago, Layla was sold into the prison system and cultivated as an artist. There’s no information in the records I found as to who sold her and why, but roughly every ten years, she would be released in such a way she would be reintroduced into the system, her previous identity lost. I suspect someone in the ring may have meddled with her memories to cover the transfers. She’s been kept in severe ignorance of how the world works, if what I’ve been told is true.”
“It’s true,” Dean said, and he scowled. “She was facing another life term for stealing a cupcake sprinkled with low-grade pixie dust. The proposed charges and desired punishment are what drew my attention to her file when I was searching the databases for someone interesting.”
“She will keep life very interesting for you,” the angel replied with laughter in his voice. “I do not even need to look into the future to see that. Tell me what you need from me, Juan.”
“I want access to the best DNA scanner you can provide so we can get a full recording of her heritage, and I want you to tell us what you can of her family. We suspect she was stolen as an infant. She might be the descendant of a triad. We can’t think of another way someone incarcerated so long among the worst North Carolina has to offer would stay so sweet. That’s angelic genetics at play, in my opinion.”
“Many humans have angelic origins,” the angel replied. “Angels are what humanity could have been if things had only been a little different.”
“Which divine should I thank that we’re not?” Juan muttered.
The angel laughed. “Thank humanity itself. Humanity decided to be free. The DNA scanner and someone to operate it is an easy feat. The rest of what you ask will cover my debt in full. I lack the skills you require to delve into the shroud masking who and what she is. I am but a lesser angel, and someone has gone to great lengths to enshroud her and all she is—even from her. I cannot tell you what you will find when the shroud is torn away. For her, everything will change, and I cannot tell you what will remain of her when the truth of who she is comes to the surface. But you are right. She has had much stolen from her.”
“Is her personality hers?” Dean demanded.
“The woman you love will remain the woman you love, but she will be able to access her potential. She will be changed in many ways, however. But change is change. It is neither good nor bad. How you handle the changes will decide your fates more than the existence changed. The shroud cannot take away everything, and the strongest facets of her personality shine through. You will find she is many things. The sweetness you treasure and the spirit burning bright are hers and have always been hers. But much of what she has lost will rise to the surface. The road will be long and frustrating, but the reward will be worth it should you decide to see things through.”
My eyes widened. I’d been told my entire life that angels couldn’t lie, and that the instant an angel told a falsehood, they would become twisted and fall, losing their status and power as an angel.
“That is true,” the angel announced.
Despite the angel confirming what I’d been told, how could anyone love me? What had I done to deserve such a thing?
I barely knew Dean. He had no reason to love me.
“I wish you the best of luck with her, unicorn. You will need it. She is her greatest enemy in these things, and you will find yourself challenged throughout the years. You are equal to the task. What you will learn will bring change, and you will have many difficult choices to make moving forward. Is this what you want?”
I felt the angel’s regard, and I wondered how a being without a head could stare at me with such intensity.
Every day of my life had involved doing what others had told me, following instructions without question, and being what others wanted me to be. Having a choice scared me almost as much the idea I would face the consequences of my choices for the rest of my life.
Until the angel had asked me, I hadn’t realized freedom’s weight could be as much of a burden as incessant time in a jail cell.
The angel shrugged. “That is the price of living as a free-willed being.”
“I want to know.” I expected disaster would come in the wake of my decision, but I would choose the cage I stayed in. I would still paint, but I would paint because I wanted to. I would see what the world could offer me. Even if the answer changed everything, I’d spent all of my time in prison dreaming of a world beyond the walls meant to keep me in. I’d spent my entire life painting a world I couldn’t understand, especially without having a chance to live in it.
“Your sweetness, as your unicorn thinks of it, is the product of an angel’s love for a human, but it was a very long time ago. Your mischief, such as it is, is the product of your darker heritage. But not all dark things are evil. You have wings to grow into, but they are not feathered for all they will be white.”
“Can she be converted?” Dean asked, and his tone turned sharp.
“While unnecessary, yes. You will have no difficulty with her conversion.”
“It is necessary!”
“Is this one of those overprotective stallion things, Xena?”
“Yes.” Xena regarded the angel with narrowed eyes. “Can we stop dodging the issue here? What is she? Who are her parents? Was she actually stolen from her family when she was little? Are they still alive? What can you tell us about her? What sort of things will we need to do to protect her?”
“Some of those questions are easier to answer than others.”
“Okay. What’s the easiest of them to answer?”
“What she is would be the easiest, but that leads to answering a great many questions about how it is possible for her to be what she is. Also, answering if she was stolen should be simple enough. Which would you like for me to start with?”
“Start with if she was stolen. If so, Juan will have extra work on his plate.”
“I already have a lot of extra work on
my plate. Stop adding to my work, Xena.”
“No. You’re the security specialist, so you have to do your security specialist duties. That means you have to do all the work for Layla. Dean might really try to kill you this time if you screw this up. He’s invested.”
“Yes, he’s currently mentally impaired because of a mare he hasn’t convinced to stick around. I’m aware.”
Dean grunted. “You just want a round on the mat, don’t you?”
Raising a brow, Juan faced off with Dean. “As a matter of fact, yes. It’s been a few years since I’ve gotten to beat sense back into my little brother.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Xena ordered. “Juan, we all know you’re going to work your best to protect her despite us all knowing she’s going to kick ass and take names if anyone steps into her space without her permission. I’m convinced she can turn anything into a weapon.”
“I know why that is,” the angel announced. “Also, please think of me as Clarence. It is quite tiring being referred to as my species rather than my name. Right now, my name is Clarence. I am very aware I am an angel.”
Oops. “I can’t help it, it’s your lack of a head. I see you are lacking a head, and I can’t help but remember you’re an angel, and then I forget you have a name. I do appreciate you putting up with me, though.”
“This is fair. Humans are so preoccupied with the presence of heads. But you are not truly human. You have been raised to be human, and a devil has gone out of his way to hide what you are. I find this annoying, truth be told.”
Dean frowned. “A devil?”
“A minor one. It will be trivial enough for one of my brethren to remove the shroud and ensure it cannot be placed again. I cannot do it directly; I lack the finesse to leave her unharmed, but it will be done when she is ready. A few warnings, however.”
If Clarence’s goal was to confuse me, he succeeded. “What warnings? Why does that sound ominous?”