by S. J. West
“You impress me, Anna,” I say, feeling a chill run down my spine at the implication of her words, “even I didn’t think you could be cruel enough to suggest such a thing happening.”
“I’m only trying to make sure you don’t make the same mistake twice and live to regret another loss. I know firsthand the strength of a mother’s love for her child. All I ask is that you consider the possibility that your love could kill him too. Just think about it, Helena. Promise me you’ll consider all of the ramifications of keeping him with you.”
“While I would love to stay and chitchat with the two of you more,” I say, knowing I need to go before I show Anna just how much I already care for my baby, “but I have business I need to attend to elsewhere.” I look over at Jules. “And you might want to suggest to Ethan that he should check up on Xander on Laed-i. If my sources are correct, he’s having a bit of a problem over there right now.”
And with those words of advice, I leave them in the cemetery to return to my own domain so I can contemplate what was said. At least I think it was me who phased my body to Hell. It’s been hard to tell these days. I would have asked Anna about the twins phasing her places she didn’t want to go to near the end of her own pregnancy, but I didn’t feel like prolonging our unexpected family get-together.
Ethan probably already suspects that I’m not in complete control of my powers since he saw me phase while I was in mid-sentence on Cephas. I know from the memories of some of the War Angels that it was actually the Guardians of the Guf whose souls are attached to the seals who kept phasing Anna to different places. I have no doubt now that the soul of my son is actually a seal too and that it is more than likely the guardian of his seal who takes control of my powers every once in a while. I can’t say I like that very much, but there’s really nothing I can do to stop it from happening. Until my son is born and the awoken guardian is expunged from my body, I won’t be able to regain absolute control over my actions.
As I sit down on the wrought iron bench that my father used quite often while he resided in Hell, I begin to run through the pros and cons of seeking out Desmond for help with my pregnancy. To be honest, I can’t think of a good reason not to go to him. Jules is right. It is better to err on the side of caution and not take any chances with the welfare of my unborn child. Besides, it’s not as if Desmond can harm me. He’s just an angel, after all. If worse comes to worst, I can trap him down here in Hell with me until the birth of my son. Jules already told me that Desmond promised not to tell Ethan or the others if I visited him. From what I know of Desmond, he isn’t one to tell lies just to get what he wants. However, I’m surprised he’s still living in his residence in the down-world of Stratus. From what I understand, another Watcher, Brutus, is now emperor of Stratus since he married its empress, Kyna Halloran. You would think Desmond could find better accommodations in either the cloud city of Stratus or Cirrus.
I quickly make the logical decision and phase myself to Desmond’s home in Stratus territory. As I stand on the stoop outside his front door, I’m vaguely aware of the people walking behind me on the city sidewalk at the bottom of the stairs to his home. I pay them no mind and open the door to Desmond’s house without knocking first. I announce my arrival in his home by a quick shout out of his name as I close the door behind me.
I’ve never actually been inside his house before, but over the past few months, I’ve stood right outside his door trying to work up the courage to go inside and ask for his help. I know my sister and even that human, Jules, were just trying to give me some sound advice, and I have to admit that the story Jules told me about the loss of her own child has finally spurred me toward this moment.
Just as I click the door shut, I see Desmond phase in front of me.
His expression is a mixture of surprise, which is to be expected, and wonder at my out of the blue arrival in his home.
“Helena,” he greets me in the native brogue of this part of the world, “I’m so glad you came to see me, lass. Are you having a problem with the baby? Is he all right?”
I turn to fully face Desmond as I place protective hands on my baby bump.
“I’m hoping you can tell me that. I want you to check him for me,” I say, keeping my expression blank and giving nothing away about my worry. “I want you to make sure he’s healthy.”
“Of course,” Desmond says, unable to hide his relief that I’ve finally come to him. “Please, follow me into the living room so we can get you settled.”
I do as he directs and follow him into a modestly furnished sitting room to the left of the entryway. There isn’t a great deal of furniture present, but what’s there looks well used.
“Why in the world do you live like a pauper?” I have to ask Desmond. “You could have much nicer things than this considering who and what you are.”
“Please, lie down here,” Desmond instructs me as he uses his hand to indicate the Victorian style chaise lounge chair upholstered with a maroon and gold brocade material. “And to answer your question, I think the people here in the down-world would find it odd for me to have nicer things than this when most of them are still living in shacks made of pieced together scraps. You may not view my home as being much, but to most of the people in this territory, I live in a palace.”
As I carefully lower myself onto the seat of the chair, I feel my son change positions inside me as if he knows we’ve finally come to seek help. Involuntarily, I inhale sharply from the pain I experience from his movements.
“Are you all right?” Desmond asks worriedly, automatically coming to my aid and resting a comforting hand on my right shoulder.
I shrug his hand off, not wanting to be touched by him.
“That’s why I’m here, you imbecile,” I reply tersely. “I need you to tell me if this pain is normal.”
Desmond doesn’t seem to take offense at my words. In fact, he chuckles at my show of temper.
“Well, you certainly haven’t lost your spirit, so that’s a good thing,” he tells me. “Wait here just a moment. I need to go grab something.”
Desmond phases away while I bring my legs up onto the chaise lounge to stretch them out. He returns quickly holding a small silver disk in his hands.
“I don’t want to see him,” I say adamantly, knowing the device Desmond is holding can project a hologram of my baby. “I only want you to check his vitals.”
“But it would be better if we did both, Helena,” Desmond argues.
“I said I don’t want to see him!” I yell, causing the house to shake violently enough for it to sprinkle dust down on us from the movement of the second floor.
Desmond sighs in frustration, but he doesn’t try to argue with me anymore. I see him press something on the underside of the silver disk in his hand before he lays it on top of my protruding belly.
Almost instantly, a series of readings hover over the disk giving us the information we need about my son’s health. From what I can tell, almost everything looks normal.
“Hmm, odd,” Desmond says as he looks at the readings. “Everything looks good, but I wonder why there is an increase in keratin levels.”
“I was hoping you could tell me that,” I say, grimacing as the baby moves once again, causing me to wince in pain.
“Helena,” he says, bending down on one knee before me with an imploring expression on his face, “we need to look at the hologram of your baby. These numbers aren’t telling me the whole story, and I think you’ve probably seen them before and understand that.”
Of course I’ve seen these numbers before. It’s not like doctors have a monopoly on health care devices. I’ve known about the high levels of keratin in my baby’s system for quite some time. I just don’t know why he has so much of it, and truth be known, I’m scared to find out the reason why.
I know from the thoughts of the War Angels who have entered my realm that they worry what my baby will come out looking like. I am neither human nor angel. I’m something else that not even God has
classified, and since I’m so unique, that leads to the question of what my baby will look like. Will he look human, or will he end up being a physical mirror of the ugliness inside me? I haven’t had the courage to find out, and I came here today hoping Desmond could take away my worries by seeing something in the vitals of my son that I might have missed over the past few months.
When my son moves again, I see Desmond place his uninvited hand against my stomach.
“Oh my,” he says, his eyes opening wide in surprise as he feels the vibration associated with my son’s movements. “What in the world …”
“Get your hand off me,” I say angrily, grabbing him by the wrist and pushing him away hard enough to knock him to the floor. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me!”
“You came to me for help, Helena,” Desmond says, standing back onto his feet. “Please, let me help you and your son. You know as well as I do that babies don’t normally vibrate in the womb like that, and I think you came to me today to be your courage to finally look at him. It would be better if we both know what to expect during the delivery. The fewer surprises we have, the more prepared I will be to handle things.”
“You mean to handle the monster that might come out of my body?” I question him curtly. “Don’t stand there and try to pretend that you haven’t at least considered the possibility that my son will simply be another creature of Hell. I know what you all have been thinking for the past few months.”
“And apparently, you’ve been thinking the same thing too, lass, or you wouldn’t be here right now asking for my help,” he replies knowingly.
Eh. Angels and their god complexes. They think they know everything. In this case, Desmond is right, but I hate to admit that to him. It would only foster his already inflated angelic ego. Yet he isn’t quite like the other angels, especially Ethan. What a bloodthirsty curd that one is. He truly believes that cutting my son from my womb is the only course of action he has to ensure the safety of Cade’s child. I know the sword he carries against his side is the one from alternate Earth. They all believe its blade will help destroy me one day. I hate to tell them that what they believe is a fool’s fantasy, but given enough time, they’ll figure that out on their own.
“The truth of the matter is,” I begin to tell Desmond, “I don’t know what he’ll come out looking like. All I know is that for the first three months, I could barely keep any food down because I was nauseous all the time, and the strength of the vibration you just felt when he moves has grown along with him. It’s getting so strong now, I fear he’ll tear through my stomach when he’s ready to be born.”
“Then let’s look at him and alleviate both of our worries.”
“Or cause us all to have even worse nightmares,” I say wearily, resting my head back on the curve of the small upholstered sofa and closing my eyes.
“I find it odd for you to say something like that, considering the fact that you designed creatures like the hellspawn and leviathans. What could possibly be so horrible about him that it would give you nightmares?”
“I designed those things to cause fear to those who reside in Hell,” I say, opening my eyes and turning my head to look at Desmond. “I don’t want my son to hate what I’ve made him into.”
“He’s not only your son, Helena. He’s Cade’s son too. And like any parent, he is half responsible for what your son becomes. I think you need to at least trust that his father gave him the best parts of himself.”
I take in a deep breath because I know everything Desmond has said is true. I need to find out what’s different about my son before he’s born, so that I’m prepared for his birth. I still haven’t decided if I will ask Desmond for his help when the time comes, but I haven’t completely ruled out the possibility either. In the end, it doesn’t really matter what my son looks like. I will love him all the same, and I will protect him to the best of my ability.
“Show me,” I tell Desmond before I lose my nerve. “I’ve waited longer than I should have to find out.”
Desmond reaches over and picks up the silver medical disk from my stomach to change its settings.
Once it’s ready, he looks over at me and says, “I want you to know that whatever he looks like, I will love and protect him just as fiercely as his father would have. Cade was my friend, and all I want is for his son to have a happy and healthy life.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
“Are you ready to see him?” Desmond asks, willing to give me a little more time to compose myself, even though I can see how anxious he is to find out what my baby looks like.
I nod my head, letting him know I’m ready because my voice is failing me at the moment.
When Desmond places the silver disk back on top of my stomach, the holographic picture of my son appears above it.
I hear myself take in a deep, surprised breath. I raise a trembling hand up to my lips and stare at his image, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
“Oh, Helena …” Desmond says, sounding as shocked as I feel. I look over to catch him smiling from ear to ear with joy. “He’s beautiful.”
I return my gaze to my son and begin to cry with joy because I know now that he has indeed inherited the best parts of his father and the best parts of me.
He is my child, and I will never let him go.
CHAPTER 13
(Return to Jules’ Point of View)
After Helena phases away, I turn to Anna and anxiously ask, “Can you tell if she went to Desmond’s house?”
Anna sighs disappointedly and shakes her head. “No, she didn’t. She’s in Hell.”
I sigh too because I thought we were really persuasive in our arguments about her seeking Desmond’s help.
“Maybe she just went there to think about what we said to her,” I suggest because I can see how upset Anna is over the possibility that she failed in her mission. “I don’t think Helena rushes into things. She still might decide to go to him later.”
“I hope so,” Anna replies, but she doesn’t try to hide her despondency from me.
I look up at the white marble statue of Cade. I never met him in person, but if this is an accurate depiction of what he looked like while he lived on Earth, I can see why Helena was attracted to him. Anyone who says looks don’t matter in a relationship is lying to him or herself. Sure, it’s what’s on the inside that counts in the long run, but initially, all you see is their outward appearance. There has to be a mutual physical attraction in order for the propagation of the species to occur naturally.
I notice that the marble pedestal the statue is standing on has Cade’s name engraved on it in a gold script. Right underneath his name are three words: warrior, friend, and father. Below those words is the sentence: “He will be missed by all who were lucky enough to know him and even luckier to be loved by him.”
“From what Helena said to you, it sounds like you can phase to Heaven,” I say, looking away from the pedestal and back to Anna. “Is that right?”
Anna nods. “Yes, I can. It’s an ability I inherited from one of my ancestors.”
“Why do you think Cade doesn’t want to speak with you?”
“I honestly don’t have any idea,” she replies, looking troubled by his reluctance to see her. “People tend to deal with grief in their own way. I suppose this is his way of coping with what happened.”
“So does God visit you on a regular basis? You sounded like not seeing Him for a few months was uncommon.”
“He only started visiting me when Malcolm and I found one another. I’m not sure why He hasn’t been to see us lately. I’m sure He has His reasons though.”
“I have to say, I wouldn’t mind meeting Him one day. You know, without having to die first, that is.”
Anna grins. “Well, if you stick around with us long enough, I’m sure you will.” She tilts her head as she considers me for a moment. From the look of curiosity on her face, I know she wants to ask me a question.
“Go ahead and ask,” I tell
her. “What is it that you want to know about me?”
“Am I that obvious?” she inquires with a smile.
“Just a tad.”
Anna doesn’t ask me what she wants to know right away. I can only assume she’s probably trying to figure out how to phrase her question without it coming out rudely.
“Do you mind me asking how you lost your son?” she finally says.
I go on to tell her basically what I told Helena the day before in my apartment about the accident Timothy and I were involved in.
“That’s awful, Jules. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” Anna sympathizes. “And I’m sorry you can’t have any more children.”
I shrug. “I’ve made my peace with that part of it. Maybe it just wasn’t meant for me to have kids. I don’t know.”
“Do you mind me asking how your husband died?”
“I don’t mind you asking,” I say hesitantly, unsure how she will react to my next words, “but do you mind me not telling you?”
“Of course you don’t have to tell me,” she says graciously. “But I hope you will feel more comfortable with me in time and let me help you deal with the turmoil you seem to be in because of his death. I get the feeling you need someone to talk to about it. If I’m not that person, perhaps Ethan would be a good choice as a confidante. He cares enough about you to listen to the story and help you as much as he can.”
“He’s only known me for a day,” I almost scoff, but I reign in my snarky side. Anna is only trying to give me helpful advice, and I can’t refute the fact that there’s something even I don’t fully understand going on between Ethan and me.
“Sometimes fate decides the people we’re supposed to care about,” she tells me, sounding too wise for someone as young as she is. “I knew the moment I saw Malcolm that he was the man I was supposed to be with for the rest of my life.”
“Love at first sight syndrome?” I ask, having heard of such a thing happening but never knowing anyone personally who had it happen to them.
“In a way,” she tells me, looking hesitant to continue. “Have you ever heard of soul mates?”