by Barbara Taub
Thomas stopped and closed his eyes. “Then she died. Danny held onto her for the longest time, not moving. Finally, he set her down and walked back to the Chateau. He came out a minute later with a letter and a little package he gave to my grandfather. Both my parents hugged him. My mother was crying and saying no, no, it wasn’t right. Danny handed off Mum to my father and put his hand out to my grandfather. Then Danny came up to me and put his arms around me. He didn’t say anything.”
Leila wrapped both hands around Thomas’ hand as it tightened on his knife until it shook. “And then Danny picked up Cécile and walked away from us. He made it about ten feet, and he just went down to his knees. He set her down so carefully and fell over her.”
Thomas looked at her, bewilderment and shock in his eyes as he relived the loss. “We had both of their funerals together. I never saw my mother smile again. She and my dad … they left in every way. My grandfather tried to step in, but I was so angry. What kind of bullshit was it that not only cost Cécile’s life but took Danny and their baby too? I had nobody and nothing left, and I was glad. Glad I wouldn’t have to match with one of your stupid family and then die if I wasn’t good enough.
“And I knew if Danny, who was so strong and smart, couldn’t protect his match, how the hell would I be able to do it? But my grandfather read Cécile’s letter about you, and when he found you, he brought me Danny’s heartknife. He said I didn’t have to accept, but the only other one left who could match you was my mother, and it was no job for a joy-bringer. Even one who couldn’t feel joy anymore.”
Thomas’ shoulders slumped, and he looked down at their clasped hands. “So I accepted the match. I hated you every single day until you showed up. And there you were, this tiny little self-centered rich American, bumping your head on your car and making fun of Fontaine Hantée and our fake house and me. Then you looked up at me with Cécile’s green eyes.”
He looked up and his eyes focused on her at last. “And I wanted to hang onto the anger and the hate because you wouldn’t matter so much if you were just someone to blame.” His effort to smile through stiff lips looked like a grimace. “But you took care of me when I got shot. And I was able to take care of you too, even if it was by cooking and not by fighting. So you became my ‘sister,’ and…”
Leila took over. “And you just couldn’t resist my charm, my wit, my superior intelligence?”
The smile got a little more real, and the dark look faded from his eyes. “Actually, I think it was the corset.”
They were on their second pot of coffee—and Thomas’ second omelet—but it still didn’t feel like they were any closer to figuring out what happened.
Leila looked down at the list in her hand. “I just thought of one thing. If Danny was my Aunt Cécile’s Protector, and if you are my Protector—what happened to my mother’s Protector?”
Thomas looked worried. “Actually, it was my mother. I was a baby, so I only know what I heard later. But nobody knew why she didn’t die when your mother did. Mum thought it was because your mother died during your birth. Our families don’t usually die from getting hurt or sick, and we’ve never heard of a Nephilim dying when they had a child, but nobody had heard, either, of a Nephilim having a child with a… ”
Leila raised an eyebrow. “With the devil?”
“Fallen,” Thomas said firmly. “Angel.”
Her finger tapped on the list. “What if the attacks on your brother and his wife were connected to this? I know there are over a hundred years between, but if we could go backward on the Metro, maybe someone else could too.”
Leila’s eyes glowed, and her voice dropped into a growl. “Damn Null City! We’re just not going to be able to sit out their war. If we don’t find out why the Metro brought us here and do something about it, we’re going to be sitting ducks when the next batch of trolls comes after us.”
She carefully reached for her cup and took several sips of the cooling coffee. When she continued, her voice was steady. “We brought two things with us that connect our families: your knife and my Donor’s jewelry. We’re going to have to get the jewelry back. And the only way we can do it is to pay back Charles Frye. And to do that…”
She reached for Thomas’ hand. “To do that, we have to sell La Fontaine.”
The dawn was slanting rays into the kitchen window, and Thomas was still trying to talk her out of it. “Where will we live? What will I do for food? And what if it is the jewelry—we still don’t know what to do with it. Maybe we could just ask Charles Frye if we could look at the jewels?”
Leila shook her head. “If we’re right and people are willing to kill for it, we can’t leave Charles and Emma in danger.”
Thomas’ chin shot up with the look Leila called his Protector-face. “Maybe we better get them right away? What are you waiting for?”
“I think they’d appreciate it if we at least got dressed first.”
They didn’t own the restaurant anymore, but it still needed to open for dinner. When they had talked to the Fryes, Charles surprised them with a generous offer to buy La Fontaine. With the jewels back and a sizable bank draft waiting for them, they hurried back to get ready for that night. Obeying an impulse she couldn’t identify, Leila put on the beautiful silk dress from Emma Frye, twisted her hair up on top of her head, and opened the jewel case. She had been too upset about everything to take a proper look at them before, but her eyes went wide at the flash of sapphires. The set included earrings, bracelet, necklace and ring, even a delicate little tiara for her hair. She realized she hadn’t worn earrings in almost a year when the sapphires surrounded by diamonds made her head too heavy for her neck.
Leila snapped the box closed on the remaining jewels and looked for a good hiding place. WWMD? She laughed as she plunged the towel-wrapped velvet box into the bottom of the rice bin, her mother’s favorite hiding place.
Just before opening time, the Fryes came into La Fontaine with a new acquaintance, a photographer who had been taking pictures of Seattle’s explosive rebuilding since the Great Fire. Introducing himself as William Boyd, he said he’d heard about the robbery attempt and asked if he could take their picture, promising them a copy. Wearing his white jacket and holding his omelet pan, Thomas took a seat. She stood next to him in her evening gown and sapphire earrings. As the flash powder went off, she wondered if she would ever be able to show this picture to Mom and Dad. A glance at Thomas’ solemn face said his thoughts were equally wistful, and she impulsively hugged him.
Alex came bursting through the door and stopped to stare at her, a look of astonishment on his too-handsome face. “Where did those come from?” he asked as his hand reached for her earlobe. A glaring Thomas moved between them, muttering to Leila out of the corner of his mouth, “I’m doing it again, so I’ll just go ahead and apologize in advance.”
With no sleep the night before, Leila and Thomas agreed to wait until the morning to examine the jewels and staggered to their rooms. She heard Thomas pause outside her door until he heard the snick of her lock. Satisfied, he headed for his own room. Smiling to herself, Leila drifted off to sleep.
It felt so good to be back home in Atlanta in her own bed at last. Leila heard Mom moving around her room, putting away clothes and straightening up. Mom always thought she was so quiet about it. She must have opened a window because cold air was pouring into the room. Leila opened her eyes to confess she was awake, and suddenly there was a cloth smothering her nose. She gagged but couldn’t help breathing in the slightly sweet smell. As she struggled with her assailant, her own moans sounded like they were coming from the end of a long tunnel. Maybe because she’d been dreaming about her, Leila knew exactly what Mom would tell her to do. Her knee shot up and made unerring contact with her opponent’s groin. He gasped and curled over her, moving the cloth enough for her to turn her head, draw breath, and scream, “Thomas! Trolls!”
She heard someone else smashing through her window just before a fist slammed into her cheek and pain
exploded. There was a crash as her door was kicked open. Suddenly the weight above her disappeared, and she heard a gurgling cough. Then Thomas was demanding to know if she was okay, and his arms came around her. And she knew she was fine.
“Is he still here?” she whispered. “Is he…”
“Oh, yeah,” Thomas grunted. “You better not look. There’s a lot of blood.”
He lit her oil lamp and held it toward the fallen man.
“I guess Bill got out of jail,” he said. “Too bad.” He looked at the broken window frame and added, “Joe must have been to this party too.”
Reaching down, he pulled the heartknife from Bill’s motionless back, and without meeting her eyes, he wiped it off on the dead man’s shirt.
Then he sat down hard on the edge of her bed. He was shivering, and all she could do was wrap her arms around him in her tightest grip. At last he took a breath and said on a shaky gasp, “I trained and trained and didn’t even have to think twice about throwing the knife. But Danny never told me they make … that … sound.”
At last he turned to her. His eyes narrowed when he saw the blood on her cheek and the swelling already flowering around it. He gently touched her face and turned thoughtfully toward Bill. “Actually, I’d kind of like to kill him again.”
“Shouldn’t we … call someone?” Leila asked. “The police?”
Thomas shook his head. “We need to find out what they wanted first. Don’t look.” She turned her head toward the window but could still hear Thomas turning Bill over and going through his pockets. Then he threw a blanket over the body and went silently into the kitchen to wash his hands for a long time.
“I didn’t find anything on Bill.” He returned, carrying another lamp. “Let’s look around and see if anything is missing.”
Before she even looked, Leila knew. “The earrings are gone. I left them on my dresser.”
Thomas carried the lamp over to the window and leaned out. “I think I see something…” Leaning over the broken panes, he carefully plucked a shining earring from a bloodstained shard.
GABY, Chapter Nine
1972, Mount St. Helens
“Do I want to know how you got here?” Luic looked up as Harry slid into the front seat of the station wagon next to Gaby. Harry ignored him and directed them to the pancake restaurant just up the road. Connor grabbed Gaby’s hand and held her back as the others entered the restaurant. “Gaby.” His voice cracked, reminding her again of how quickly he was growing. “About Luic…” He stopped.
“What about him?”
“I don’t think … there is something that doesn’t fit perfectly with him and you.”
She smiled at him. “He’s certainly not what I ever pictured, either. But none of that seems to matter right now. I just know I need to be with him if I can.”
He nodded, but she could tell he was still worried as they entered the restaurant.
With the twins ensconced in their own booth across from them, Gaby pretended not to notice Connor ordering chocolate chip waffles with whipped cream. Neither Luic nor Harry commented as she rearranged the cutlery and napkins. Harry politely waited until the table was organized to her satisfaction before he spoke. “Gaby, you probably think I should apologize for pulling you into this. And—unlike at least one person we both know—I actually know how to do that. But I’m not going to tell you I’m sorry because we need you if we’re going to save both Gifts and Haven.”
Gaby laughed nervously. “It sounds like that TV show: ‘Your mission, Miss Parker, should you decide to accept it, is to save the world.’”
“Yes.”
Gaby’s eyes flew wide, and Luic reached for her hand.
“I’ve told some of this to Luic, and he can fill you in later.” Harry waited impatiently while a waitress put a plate of pancakes in front of each of them. “Basically, we need your help because Haven—or whoever is pulling their strings—is winning. There are three pivotal points in time which we believe will determine the outcome of the war. The first of those is a task you and a few others have to perform. Even if you’re successful, it won’t win the war for us. But it will keep us from losing, and every time we do that we get closer to actually winning in the end. If we lose, Null City will be destroyed and thousands will be killed.”
Luic squeezed Gaby’s hand and turned to Harry. “How did you get involved in all of this?”
Harry grinned. “Do you remember when we met? How it seemed right away we were meant to be friends?”
At Luic’s tiny smile, Harry continued carefully. “Well, our meeting wasn’t an accident. Time doesn’t have the same meaning where I come from, but even there I had been waiting … so long … for you both. In that place, I was a kind of gatekeeper for a great prince who wanted to help humans by restoring knowledge lost to them. Eventually, he went ahead, and he has been punished for his decision for eons. I stayed close to him, and even from his prison we watched things unfold here.”
Gaby glanced at the empty booths around them. Seeing only one other diner on the far side of the restaurant, she spoke in a low voice. “And your ‘great prince’ is … who?”
“I suppose you would call him an angel,” Harry admitted. “Some of the stories named him the Archangel Raziel and said because he stood by the throne of his God, he was the one who had the most access to divine knowledge. He gave that knowledge to a human, which infuriated other angels who believed it should have been given to them.”
“Angels.” Gaby sat up straight and stared at Harry. “You set up my meeting with Luic so we can end up on the opposite side of angels?”
“I had no choice,” Harry told her. “Raziel’s gift surfaced in a few places through human history. There are stories of Noah having it, and Solomon. Now the ones opposing Raziel believe it is in Null City. And they are willing to destroy Null City to get it. I’ve put so many pieces in play to bring both of you together so we can capture the pivot point. But with all the differences in time and from our removed vantage point, we knew we could blink and miss every chance. So I decided to come myself.”
Harry paused, leaning his head back against the booth and closing his eyes. “I once knew an angel who chose to fall. He told me everything he had, every gift he’d been given—knowledge and experience and senses which couldn’t fit into human form—had to be abandoned. He could no longer look on the face of his God, and he thought he would feel blind.”
Harry opened his eyes. “He married the human woman he loved. In a blink of Heaven’s time, she had grown old and died. But he told me in that tiny fraction of time with her, he had lived more and loved more and seen more of God’s face in her than in his entire previous existence. I can’t say I see God when I look at Luic’s ugly face, but there have been rewards.” He looked thoughtful. “Single malt scotch. Who knew?”
Harry focused on them again. “When the Fallen were punished, angels were banned from interacting directly with humans. Since I had to fall to come here as a human, I don’t have tools to predict events with any sort of accuracy. We have a few seers on our side, and they’ve done what they can. As far as we can tell, the time pivot point you have to capture will lead to the founding of Null City about a hundred years ago. So that’s where you have to go.”
“We have to go to Null City?” Luic asked.
“No,” said Harry. “You have to go back to the 1890s.”
“No thank you,” said Gaby politely.
“I know this one.” Luic looked significantly at the twins, who had given up all pretense of eating breakfast and were avidly hanging on their every word. “She means she has responsibilities.”
Harry shook his head with impatient frustration. “At the risk of sounding melodramatic, this mission is the only chance they have. There’s a reason the other side is trying to get rid of Gifts first. Sure, you could take your brother and sister and try to hide, and it might even work while others die first. I won’t stop you. But is that the person you want them to see? Is that who you want t
o see in the mirror?”
“I promised.” Gaby’s voice was low and fierce, each word precise. “I promised my parents, and I promised Carey and Connor. I would do whatever it took for them to have a normal life. I’m not a brave person, but I’ve tried so hard…” Luic’s arms came around her shaking shoulders, and over her head his worried eyes met Harry’s.
Then she felt Connor’s hand on her shoulder. His other hand held Carey’s, and his gift roared through them. Luic’s eyes widened. “Gaby,” Connor said quietly. “Everything is changing. Maybe it means it’s going to be okay for you to go. And anyway, you did do what you promised. You raised us, and we had as normal a life as possible with Carey around.”
“Too normal if you ask me,” Carey agreed. “But we have our gifts now, and we have to train for them. I have to become a warrior, and Connor has to become … whatever the heck a harmonia concord becomes, and you have to go back in time and save the world. We’ll never be the Cleavers, but I think we are the new normal.”
“How do we even get back to 1890?” Gaby asked Harry. “And what about Connor and Carey?”
“About that,” Harry began. “There’s something you need to know about time travel. Have you ever gone surfing? Well, time travel is a little bit like that. You can paddle out, but the only way back is to ride the wave and let the ocean carry you.
“Humans exist in three dimensions. They can touch the fourth dimension, time, only as a straight line moving toward the future. But the Metro exists fully in four dimensions, so it can move in any direction. In this case, we think we can arrange for the Null City Metro to get you to the time pivot point, but we can’t bring you back.”