by S Lawrence
I straighten and place the duffle on the bed and turn. Looking around the room, I realize I have more things, little things I’ve collected. It’s going to be much harder to leave this time.
My sigh echoes through my room. I don’t want to go.
Steam begins to roll out of the open door of the bathroom, so I force myself forward. Maybe I can lose myself in the hot water for a while.
When I step under the spray, I flinch as the first steam stings my cool skin and it turns pink almost instantly. Cherry often jokes that I’m the palest brown girl she’s ever met. She thinks I’m Mexican or maybe some other Latin ethnicity. She, like most people, has no idea I was born in Greece to Greek parents.
She’d be surprised that my name, the name my parents gave me, was Alethea, and my mother called me Thea. I only know that because of a small box of things my first foster family kept for me.
Apparently, they were items found at the hotel where my family had been staying. It contains a few pictures, a piece of a blanket, my parents’ wedding rings, and our passports.
The blanket had my whole name embroidered on it, and the pictures had my name in my mother’s handwriting. I have memorized their faces from the passports.
They look like nice people. They were nice people. I remember her hiding me, sliding the necklace around my neck and telling me to stay there and be silent.
Then through the tiny crack at the edge of the door, I watched as she and my father rushed out. I think they knew. Knew death was coming for us. They knew and they met it head on to save me.
Here under the water, I let the tears come, and once again, they turn to sobs. I am cursed and bring death to everyone who I care for.
“Charlie,” Connor calls through the bathroom door.
I fight to gain control of my emotions. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”
Reaching down, I turn off the water, letting my forehead lean against the cool tiles.
It takes me a few minutes to push everything down, to hide my intentions. I can’t let them know what I’m planning.
Dried and dressed, I open the door, and he is sitting on my bed. He looks up, and his eyes are red, tears still shining in them.
“It was Bill.” His voice is hollow. “I can’t believe it.”
I let the tears I was forcing down flow, finally able to mourn for my friend. My friend who sacrificed himself for me. I crumble, and Connor catches me.
“You must have just left. Monica said you had finished your set just minutes before. My God, Charlie, it could have been you.” He’s clutching at me, and I cry harder.
I should have been me.
“Thank God you got out of there.” He pulls back. “Why did you leave so quickly? Why didn’t you hang out like usual?”
What do I say? Hey, Connor something I’ve never told you is everywhere I go people die and right before that happens I hear a strange music. I don’t think so.
“I had started feeling sick during the last song so I grabbed my stuff and left to get some air. I ended up walking all the way to the Venetian.” The lie sours in my mouth.
He just hugs me tighter. “They are holding vigil tonight.” I nod then pull back slowly.
“Do you mind if I just… I just need some time alone.” I wipe at my face. “Cheyenne, Bill... He was wonderful, my friend.”
Connor nods and stands up. I see the bag behind him and I’m surprised he didn’t see it. I’m also relieved I don’t have to lie again. He leaves the room quietly. After the door shuts, I sit there for a minute before I jump up and start grabbing things to pack.
I have some boxes broken down in the back of my closet. I drag them out after I fill the duffel with clothes and sit it inside the bathroom, out of sight. I gather my memories quickly.
“We are going to run out and get candles and flowers. We’ll get you some too,” Cherry calls through the door, her voice filled with concern.
“Thanks, Cherry. I love you guys.” Her footsteps stop as she pauses.
“We love you too, doll.” I can picture her face, the frown of concern and confusion that will have drawn her brows down.
I wait, unmoving, until her steps start again. I grab everything I can’t bear to leave, putting it in the boxes, and then rush to take them to my car. It takes three trips to get everything loaded.
I stop by the table on my way out.
I’m sorry. I’m cursed.
Charlie
That’s it.
Then I run for their lives.
Chapter 4
DAGEN
They held me hostage in my own home until noon.
Guess they didn’t expect me to go over the balcony; poor planning on their part.
I know every way out of this hotel. The gaggle of bridesmaids didn’t seem to mind me dropping in.
Hell, I barely escaped that room too. Although that would have been a much more fun captivity. I only attempted the prison break because Luc left to go do something, he said. The look he shared with Lillian means the something is Grace.
He disappeared and poof, so did I. I try to feel bad as I lean against the back of the elevator but I can’t. I need to find that girl. I need to find out if she’s the one we’ve been looking for.
You’d think there would be something that alerted us to them. A spark, a mark, something that screams, ‘Hey I’m a descendant of Archangels,’ but no. The doors slide open, and I make a hard right and slip through the door that leads to the maze of hallways for employees only. It is mere minutes later when I push open the door to the parking garage. I glance around, making sure Evander or Torryn aren’t waiting for me. Nothing. Good. Still I sprint to my baby and climb in.
Torryn better be glad he hadn’t hurt her when he took off with Lillian. The Hellcat purrs when she starts, and I can’t help but rev the engine a little, loving the sound of the dual exhaust.
She glides out of the parking spot and rumbles through the garage until I pull out onto the strip. Here she prowls like a demon. I grin at my own joke. The windows are blacked out. Normally that’d get you stopped, but all the cops know my car and know me.
Tourists stop and look as I drive by, some excited, but I can smell the jealousy from here of many of them.
She is a thing of beauty and sounds like a beast.
I turn off the strip and head out to a neighborhood that used to be upper class but now is barely middle. I grimace as I think about the amount of crime that must take place around the area.
After turning up and down different streets that look exactly the same, with the same little houses and the same little families, I finally reach my destination. I park across the street and watch the house for a while. No cars are in the drive and gnomes litter the yard. Like lots of gnomes. Weird.
As I watch, a Mini-Cooper pulls into the drive, and a blonde climbs out followed by a man with dark hair. They have bags and flowers in their hands. Looking closer, I can see red splotches on their faces.
My heart begins to pound, and I’m out of my car in the blink of an eye, striding across the street and up through the yard, stepping around or over the multitude of creepy yard ornaments.
They stop as they reach the door and turn as my feet hit the sidewalk.
“Can I help you?” The man steps in front of the woman, protecting her. I like him instantly.
“I’m looking for Charlie.” A huge grin spreads across the woman’s face.
“I know that voice.” She pushes the man aside. “It’s Mister Burnt Brownies.”
I sigh, letting my eyes fall closed while my eyebrows raise. At least I know I’m in the right place.
“Is she here?”
The man frowns as his eyes dart to the right. “Her car is gone. She said she just wanted to rest.” He looks at the woman. “We shouldn’t have left her.”
“Maybe she went to the club.” She doesn’t sound convinced though and she looks up at my face. “A friend was killed outside her work last night. It could have been her. She had just le
ft.”
The hair on my neck raises at her innocent confession.
The man turns back and unlocks the door. “Come on in. You can tell us why you want to see her.”
It is a challenge. One I gladly accept. I can feel the love these two have for the girl, for Charlie; it bleeds from them.
“I just wanted to check on her. We get lots of drunk tourists but rarely do we get pass-out-drunk locals.” I shake my head. It sounds stupid, even to me.
“That’s so nice,” Cherry coos. She’s easily convinced, wanting to see the good in people. The other one is unconvinced.
As he sits the bag and flowers down, he frowns. I watch as he picks up a piece of paper and then turns running down the hall and throwing open a door.
“Oh, Charlie, why?” He whispers but I can hear him like I’m standing next to him.
I walk down to him and look over his shoulder. The room is torn apart. “What did the paper say?”
He hands it to me, defeated. ‘I’m sorry. I’m cursed.’ Damn. She left. Slipped right through my goddamn fingers.
“She was running when I met her.” He looks at me. “Why are you really here?”
I can’t tell him the truth but I can give him some version of it. I mean why not?
“I work with a group of people who track missing people. We have offices around the world. I also own the bar in the Venetian that she was at. After I put her in the car and went home, I was going through some files and I thought she fit the description of one of the people we are trying to find.” Not a complete lie and close enough to the truth that it sounds totally believable.
He studies me, making up his mind. “What would you have done if she had been her and she was the girl you’re looking for?”
“My only job, only desire, is to keep her safe.” That is the complete truth.
“Is she in danger?” Cherry asks from behind me.
“Possibly great danger,” I answer honestly.
“Connor.” She steps closer.
Connor looks up at me, and I notice the remnants of eyeliner. “Could she have been very lucky last night? Was the person that killed our friend after Charlie?” His eyes look down at the paper still in my hand. “She said she was cursed.”
I nod. I don’t know that it was the Fallen, but it could have been. We are sure they are here searching, just as we are. How they are finding them is a mystery.
I’m positive they have help. I just can’t figure out who. It has to be someone with either immense power or a very specific power.
“Where would she run?” They look at each other before looking back at me.
“Honestly, I have no idea. Charlie doesn’t share much. Especially not about her past. I only know her parents were killed.” Connor shakes his head in dismay. “I only know that because she got drunk one night.”
Cherry rubs her hands over her arms as I notice Connor’s breath is visible. My powers are leaking out. I draw a deep breath and release it slowly.
“Okay. Why don’t you tell me what you do know? Like her last name and type of car she’s driving. If you know plate number, that would help.”
“Right. Her last name is Smith.” I barely keep from rolling my eyes. Smith. Right. “She drives an old Jetta. It’s black with some rust. I don’t know the plate. I’m sorry.”
I can tell he truly is. He really cares about the girl. “Do you have any pictures?”
Cherry runs into her room and comes out quickly with a flyer in her hand thrusting it at me. I look down and my eyes widen slightly.
“I figured you should know what both sides of Charlie look like.” Cherry smiles at my shock. “She is really handsome, right?”
Yes, she is. “Yes. Amazing,” I murmur. I’ll think about the implication later. I’ll consider fate later. “I’ll keep you posted.” I reach into my pocket and pull out a card to hand to Connor. “You can call me anytime.”
I’m almost to the door when I hear her question. “You’ll find her, right?”
“I’m going to do my very best.” Which really means I’m willing to do my worst to save her, even from herself.
I’m in my car and race back to the penthouse in seconds. They are all waiting for me when I step through the front door.
Lillian stands, looking behind me, and I shake my head. Her face falls.
“Have you watched the news?” I ask as I move to where Torryn and Evander are sitting on the low couches. They all shake their heads. Reaching down as I lower myself to the couch, I pick up the remote and turn the television on, clicking through the channels until I find the local news channel.
We watch in silence as the murder from last night is reported on, and when they begin to repeat the information, I mute the volume, turning to them.
“She was there performing, minutes before that happened. Her roommates know hardly anything about her. But one thing they did know is that she is a runner; she ran here and she is running now.”
I hand Evander the note. “I’m cursed,” he reads the words out loud. “What do you think it means?”
“Connor, her closest friend here, said she got drunk and told him her parents were killed. I think, maybe somehow, she knows they are hunting her and when they get close, she runs.” I shake my head, amazed that she has evaded them. “I think she’s trying to save her friends. The man killed was a good friend of hers, and she doesn’t want anyone else to die.”
Lillian makes a sound of distress. Torryn moves to comfort her. “How do we find her?”
“I don’t know. I have the type of car she is driving and the color. I know she does male drag.” I hand Lillian the flyer, and she smiles as she looks between my face and the image on the paper.
“Soulmates. Chosen for each other.” Her voice is low when she whispers the words.
“Lillian,” I warn but she ignores it.
“Dagen, you can’t argue that she is perfect for you. You, yourself, explained your sexuality to me. Fluid. What could be more fluid than a beautiful woman who hides behind the face of a gorgeous man?” She raises a brow, daring me to argue. “It is probably what saved her last night. They were looking for a woman.”
Fuck. She’s right. I should have thought of that, but my instant attraction to both her forms had distracted me.
“We need to find her.” I pull out my phone and scroll to Joe’s number and send him a text.
“Have all the drivers keep an eye out for an old Jetta, black with rust.”
He responds in seconds. I then look for another number and tap it, putting the phone to my ear.
“Hey. I need you to keep an eye out for a car and then call me when it’s found.” I listen to him as he talks, asking questions. “No, don’t approach it. Just call me and let me know. Thanks, man. I owe you guys.”
I look at Torryn. “You think you or Arkyn can find some information on her? Like maybe her real name? No way Charlie Smith is real.”
“Did she work at the club, like above board?” I shrug.
“I think so but not sure. I didn’t think to ask.”
“No biggie, that’s easy to find out.” He stands after kissing Lillian hard for a minute. “I’ll go call him and we can get to work. He’s much better at hacking than I am. But I’ll call the club and use my powers to find out everything they might know.” He disappears down the hall.
Evander stands, pausing for a moment. “I’m going back to New Orleans. Call me when you find out anything.”
“Boss?” He looks at me, waiting. “They have to have help, but who has that power?”
“I’ve asked myself that question for a very long time.” Lillian looks between us. “I don’t know. I’ve never come up with a good answer.”
“I have a question.” Lillian leans forward, looking down at her nails, and suddenly her wings burst free. “Goddammit. Shit, sorry guys.”’
Whatever she has on her mind is very upsetting for her, because those wings only come out when she’s really agitated.
Evander
rubs her shoulder for a moment, trying to calm her. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot. You only knew about me because of Caliel and Grace.” She frowns on the angel’s name. “So that begs the question, who hid us? I mean, shouldn’t you be able to sense our angelic natures, no matter how diluted?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Evander’s expression says he too has never even considered that question.
“I’ll be back. I need to talk to Luc.” He disappears right after every glass surface is covered in frost as the temperature plummets.
“Well, that’s not good.” Lillian looks at me.
Huge fucking understatement but yeah, that is not good and for more than the reason Lillian is thinking of.
Chapter 5
CHARLIE
I didn’t get far. I sit on the bed and look around my room at the Nugget. I learned a long time ago to plan my escapes.
You waste lives if you don’t have a plan.
I glance down at the picture of my mom and dad, trying to remember. Hints of memories flash at the edge of my mind. Whispered conversations. Suitcases stuffed with clothes. The sound of crying through a bathroom wall.
I look down at the picture again, where we are all smiling on the beach in Florida, but now that I’m older, I can see the tension around their eyes.
We were running.
It is suddenly so clear.
She hid me because she knew. They had ran all the way to America trying to get away from whoever it is that wants us dead.
She heard the music too. Maybe those that hunted her didn’t know about me. I’d looked up the reports years later. My parents had been found a few miles from where I hid beneath the sink in the hotel room. Hell, it was many days before the police even put it together that they were my parents.
So how did they find out about me later?
It goes back to how are they tracking me at all? How did they track my mom? My fingertips play over the necklace and pendant. It can’t be this though, because I had it that day.
I put the picture away; I may never know how they find me.