I didn’t know what he saw in his vision, and I didn’t know what he saw when he looked at me now, but the haunted look in his eye told me I might have a chance to get through to him.
“How can you ask me to do something you yourself cannot do?” I asked.
“Shayna,” Ashriel said, moving close to me again. He looked down at me with that sweet face I had so often gazed at in my dreams, the face that I had turned to so often when I needed help and guidance. The hurt and worry on his face pained me because I had caused it.
“Ash,” I whispered, “you could help me. You weren’t there for me in that fire, you didn’t save me when I knew you could; please, help save me this time.”
“It was time, Shayna,” he said softly. “It was time for you to become your true self.”
“If my true self is a guardian angel,” I said, “then I will not stand back and watch two people who’ve saved me so many times fade away. I won’t do it, Ash, and you can’t make me, and neither can whoever or whatever is up there.” I pointed at the night sky above us.
“It’s not up to me.” Ashriel shook of his head. “It’s not up to you either; these things are predetermined and cannot be changed.”
“Then they shouldn’t have let me be born human. Ashriel, you can’t give someone free will for eighteen years and then expect to be able to just rip it away. Humans don’t work like that; I don’t work like that.”
Ashriel opened his mouth to say something, but his voice was drowned out in a crack of thunder. For one moment I thought he’d opened his wings and was about to take flight, but he hadn’t moved. I heard Steven and Jodi’s voices as if I were underwater and couldn’t understand them. They rushed toward me, Steven pointing at the sky. My eyes followed his finger and saw the sky had been ripped open. A bright blue light shone through the black sky and blotted out the stars in a jagged scar.
Ashriel’s eyes were riveted on the sky; I saw his mouth moving as he spoke, but the thunder rolling around me filled my head so that I couldn’t hear him only a foot away from me. I felt that same strange pulling sensation throughout my body and took one last look at my two friends. They held onto each other, their faces desperate and terrified. I pressed against the barrier, realizing too late I was a sitting duck. The bright Light burst through the sky and the ground around us rolled as the Light touched the Earth. Jodi and Steven stumbled and fell, clinging to each other as they watched the Light track over the ground until it filled the circle I stood in, trapping me.
I felt a warmth more soothing than anything I had ever felt in life or death as the Light surrounded me, filled me. I looked at Ashriel, the question plain on my face, and the look of relief, mixed with a little bit of regret, on his face told me everything. My feet left the ground, my hand sliding away from the barrier as the Light pulled me, making the wounds on my back burn. This was it. The choice was no longer mine; they were pulling me from this world, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Once more, I watched the pleading faces of those I loved as I was ripped away from another world I did not belong in.
Chapter 21
The world was white. I had never tried to think about what the afterlife might look like since there were so many varying ideas about it, but I didn’t expect nothingness. I stood surrounded by nothing but shifting white mists and fog banks, all alone. I’d expected Ashriel to be there with me, to be my guide and tell me what to do, but he’d been left behind with Jodi and Steven. A sharp pang went through me at the thought of my two best friends, abandoned once again.
“Hello?” I called out, forcing thoughts of Jodi and Steven’s pained faces out of my head. “Anybody?” My voice echoed back to me, unanswered.
Then, through the mists, I saw a familiar tall and lean shape begin to take form until I saw Steven’s smiling face. His white teeth were bright against his dusky skin as he flashed that self-assured smile at me. He held his baby cousin Alexis. At first, I didn’t recognize her because she’d grown so much since I last saw her, but her wide brown eyes were a perfect mirror image of Steven’s. She looked so happy, so rested. I rushed forward, but as I reached out for him, he disappeared into the rolling fog. I slowed my steps, turning on the spot to look for him only to see Jodi’s bright blond hair peeking through the white fog. Her blue eyes seemed to sparkle against her pale skin as she watched me, waiting for me, only to disappear as I reached her.
I turned again to see Tracy just a few feet away. When she saw me, she smiled just a bright as Steven and Jodi. I started toward her, refusing to run this time, but it didn’t matter; she was gone by the time I reached her.
Then there was Jensen in his razor sharp cheekbone glory. My heart thudded in my chest when he offered me that lopsided smile. I hadn’t realized just how much I had missed him until that moment. He reached out a hand for me and I responded in kind, my fingers itching with the desire to brush his hair out of his stormy eyes, but I knew running to him was pointless. With a small nod, he faded away just like the others.
Turning, I saw Jeremy’s face, still a little unsure, still a little scared, but not one day older. His face hardly moved when the corner of his mouth tilted up just slightly, but he looked well, cared for. Behind him stood his older brother, and beside him, their mother, who was smiling. In that smile, I could see where her boys truly got their good looks. I placed my hand to my chest, realizing I felt a stitch forming there at the sight of all these people.
Katcharias, the nymph king, took Jeremy’s place as the mists shifted and reformed. His black hair and green skin stood out like a shock of color in all this nothingness. His father was next to him, looking happy and healthy as I had never seen him look before in life. They dipped their heads toward me in a half-bow. Behind them, their pod of followers fanned out so far that I couldn’t clearly see all of them. They looked peaceful and calm, their black eyes no longer menacing and the stuff of nightmares.
When I turned again, I saw Matt, Mark, and Dale, the boys whose souls would’ve been fed to Katcharias’s people had we not stopped his sister. The three boys were taller than I remembered, a little broader too, but still familiar and smiling as they stared at me. Their parents stood behind them, smiling gratefully at me. I lifted my hand in a small wave that each boy returned before disappearing like all the rest. A little girl’s giggle echoed through the mists. I turned just in time to see a short woman scooping up Mandy, the little girl I’d pulled from the rocks, bleeding and nearly unconscious, after a horrific car accident. Mandy frantically waved a tiny hand at me, causing her mom to turn her face toward me. She smiled when she saw me and clutched Mandy a little tighter, taking in a deep breath of the sweet scent of her daughter’s curly hair.
They turned to leave just as Amy, the woman we had saved from the fire, appeared. She gave me a sad, watery smile, the regret and guilt of my death plain on her face. I gave her a closed mouth smile. It really wasn’t her fault, and she shouldn’t carry that guilt with her. She nodded at me, and I realized her hands rested on a bump in her stomach. A small noise of surprise left me, making her smile brighter, nodding as she faded away.
A breath of relief rushed out of me. I had made a lot of mistakes during my time on Earth, but I had helped a lot of people. The skin of my back itched and burned, making me look over my shoulder, expecting to see my wings, but they weren’t there. Apparently all of my help, all of those people saved, weren’t quite enough to give my wings back. I gritted my teeth, holding back the angry words I wanted to voice.
The white fog rolled around me, shifting in the light, turning slowly darker and darker. The mists and fogs bled from different shades of grey into black, swirling around me until my head spun. I held out my arms, hoping to catch something to hold on to, but my fingers closed around empty air.
When I opened my eyes again, Ian’s face loomed in front of me. He was bigger than I remembered and the twisted anger on his face stole any lingering resemblance he might’ve still had with Jensen. His blue eyes looked grey in this half-li
ght, his lips curling up into a sneer. I almost stepped back, but I forced myself to stand my ground, and glared back at him.
He opened his mouth in a wordless scream just before he rushed me, flying through the air, his hands in front of him, fingers crooked into claws. I covered my face with my arms and ducked just as he passed over me, disappearing into the void. I peeked between my arms before slowly standing back up.
Feeling eyes on the back of my neck, I turned on the spot, my stomach knotting up with every inch until I was face to face with Nick. His face was still battered, bloodied, and swollen from the beating Ian had given him that day in the parking lot, and his arm was still in a sling from the broken collarbone I’d given him. He looked older, sadder than I remembered, but the ugliness of his true self was still there. I found it easier to glare back at him than it had been with Ian. He glanced down at his lame arm and then back at my face. With a sniff, I lifted my chin, refusing to drop my eyes at the sight of the injury I’d given him – the injury that had cost him his spot on the Varsity football team and the guaranteed college scholarship that would have led to who knows where. None of which he deserved.
Nick shook his head and turned away from me, fading into the fog as he went. I watched him go, not trusting him enough even in the afterlife to turn my back on him.
An ear splitting scream ripped through the air and nearly had me on the ground. I turned just in time to see the bloody ruin of the Sylph streaking right for me. She was bound in spiked iron chains, her face a ruin of ribbons, and her once beautiful white-blond hair was matted with blood and darker things. Her fingers were tipped in claws as she came for me, just as Ian had. Just like before, I dropped right before she reached me, covering my head and face with my arms. I felt the wind of her passing, it pulled at my hair and clothes, but when I opened my eyes again, she was gone. But whenever I blinked, I saw her writhing in agony on the floor, surrounded by her kind, bleeding but never dying. The nightmares of that night had haunted me until the day I died, just as I knew they always would.
Before I could get to my feet, a black clawed hand reached from below and wrapped around my ankle. The claws pierced my calf muscle, cutting into the half-moon scars hidden by my pant leg. I was ready to scream, but the pain never came, my leg never bled. Inch by inch, Noufaro’s head appeared as she used my leg to climb out of the darkness. Her chest had a black, sucking wound where her heart should have been, but now only white, glistening bone stood out against the maw of her chest.
She hovered over me, her black eyes bearing into mine. I could hear her lethal tail swishing back and forth as she lifted one hand, drawing it back before she took a swipe at my face. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath, unable to watch the strike coming for me, but it never landed. Prying one eye open, I saw her dissolve into the grey fog. I blew out the breath I had been holding and pushed away from the ground to sit up only to hear the shattering of a thousand pieces of glass.
I knew without looking what I would see, but I knew I would be forced to look. With my stomach in knots, I twisted around to look over my shoulder. On the ground, covered in millions of shards of glass, was the gun man who would have shot Deb had I not unleashed an earthquake in my panic. When he sat up to look at me, his face was a bloody mass of shredded flesh. He held out his hands, as if asking for my help, but all I could do was stare at the glass imbedded in his palms, glittering among the torn and bloodied flesh. I felt the color drain from my face.
So much blood, so many bodies left in my wake.
“All right,” I whispered, swallowing against the lump forming in my throat. The gun man faded into the fog, taking the shattered glass with him. “I get it, okay?” My voice echoed back to me again without answer. I climbed to my feet, wishing I had something to hold on to in order to steady myself, but I was still alone in this void.
“Fine, I’m not an angel,” I called out, turning to watch in all directions. “I’ve hurt people, killed even, fine! You can have the damn wings! Keep them!” I screamed at the end, feeling the words tearing at my throat, but my words were drowned out by the sound of wrenching, tearing metal and more breaking glass.
Spinning on the spot, I tried to look for the source of the noise. Horns blared from every direction, echoing back to me in a confused cacophony. Then a stumbling form came out of the fog, falling at my feet, screaming as he landed on his broken arm. His face was covered in an angry red burn, the kind you get when an airbag deploys in your face. When he rolled over, I saw who the boy was. It was the guy who had abandoned Steven across the border in Mexico after slipping him a pill at a concert. He’d stolen Steven’s car and just left him there. I had tracked him down and called the police when I finally spotted Steven’s car, but instead of surrendering, the idiot had led the cops on a high-speed chase. I had no idea it had ended like this.
“No,” I said, standing back up, shaking my head. “This one wasn’t my fault.” I looked down at my hands. They were covered in his blood. I glanced at the body at my feet, watching as his eyes rolled back when he passed out from the pain. I couldn’t stop shaking my head, backing away from the pool of blood he’d left behind.
That wasn’t fair. He’d stolen Steven’s car, drugged him, and left him for dead. His parents almost couldn’t get him back across the damn border. How could his accident be on my hands?
I nearly fell over when the backs of my legs struck something. I whipped around and saw a little boy about the age of six. His little bow mouth was pursed in an angry sneer as he glared up at me. There was a small cut on his bottom lip, making it swell, and his left eyebrow was split and bleeding. His face was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite remember him. I squinted as I looked down at him in his dirty overalls with grass stains on his legs. Then I saw the strands of auburn hair clutched in his tiny fist. My hair.
“You,” I breathed, feeling my brow pinch as I glared down at the boy that tormented Jodi in first grade until she cried. He was the little boy who caught Jodi and me talking to faeries at school and started all of those horrible rumors about us that followed us all the way through elementary school and into junior high. The taunts and name-calling hadn’t stopped until we finally made it to high school where all of the kids scattered to the various schools in the district.
The black and blue bruise blossomed over his left eye as I watched. A blood vessel burst at the corner of his eye, turning the white into a bright red. A moment later, a trickle of blood leaked out of his nose as it flattened. I remembered finally getting the upper hand in the fight and sitting on his chest, pounding at his face until a teacher came running over to pull me off of him. I had kicked and screamed, spitting in my anger as the little boy cried on the playground. No one cared that he had fought back, managing to rip out a lock of my hair in his fury. No one cared about that because in the end, I was on top and winning.
“He deserved it though,” I whispered, unable to take my eyes off of his face, watching it change slowly as the swelling grew and the bruises blossomed. “He hurt Jodi, and he hit me back!” I felt six years old all over again, angry and irrational. With a smirk, he began to rise in the air. It was the same smirk he’d given me when the principal made me apologize to him in front of the whole class before I was suspended for three days. He was the first person I’d ever used my powers to hurt.
I remembered sitting on top of him, my knees pressed into his armpits and my toes braced against the ground, feeling the power of the Earth racing up into me, fueling my punches. When the teacher hauled me into the air, I saw the indentation in the ground where we had begun to sink into it, but no one else paid it any attention.
I took a step back and then another, turning away from the battered little boy that hovered at eye level with me now. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched him rush forward to follow me, so I ran, desperate to get away. Through the roiling fog and mists, I saw the faces of those I had harmed over the years, those I had killed. Their faces loomed out at me through the darkness, baring
their teeth, demanding that I look upon the blood and bruises I had doled out. There were faces without wounds I didn’t recognize, but their eyes were red and swollen with tears, and I knew they were people affected by those I had hurt or killed.
I closed my eyes and ran blindly, screaming at them to go away, that it wasn’t my fault, I was only ever trying to help. I lost my footing and fell. Curling into myself, I kept my eyes closed against the angry faces that pressed down on me. A voice whispered in my ear that sounded very much like my own.
“An angel washed in blood,” it whispered. “How did you ever expect to keep your wings?” The taunting voice echoed inside my mind so that I couldn’t shut it out.
“I didn’t ask for this,” I whimpered, half-remembering saying something very similar as I watched another creature laying in a pool of its own blood.
“But you wanted it, didn’t you?”
“No!” I cried out, sobs wracking me.
“You did,” the voice hissed. “Look at all the blood you’ve spilt. Look at all the pain and suffering you’ve caused. You don’t deserve your wings.”
“I was only trying to help people,” I whispered, my own voice losing strength as the one in my head grew stronger.
“Helping!” the voice hissed. “Is that how you slept at night? By telling yourself that you were helping people?”
“Yes,” I whispered back. I had helped people, hadn’t I? Sure, some people got hurt along the way, but other people had caused those hurts or they had done it to themselves. I had begged so many of them to stop, to give up, but they always refused. Even as I held their lives in my hands, they had always refused.
“So you helped a few people, but at what cost?” the voice taunted me. I shrank from it, but in the dark corners of my mind, I saw the smiling faces of those parents I had returned their children to. So many mothers, all with eyes full of relieved tears, smiling at me, thanking me silently.
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