The Providence Trilogy Bundle: Providence; Requiem; Eden

by McGuire, Jamie

  “Yeah, but he’s only thirteen. He’s barely a teenager.”

  Beth stared at me. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, why?”

  “There is no way that kid is thirteen! He’s a mammoth! He looks at least sixteen!”

  “Nope. It runs in the family.”

  “You’re going to give birth to a toddler. Think about that,” Beth said, giggling to herself.

  “We’re not . . .” I waited, hoping Beth wouldn’t take it further. Any such hopes were lost when her eyes widened.

  “You’re not what? Going to have kids?”

  I shrugged, trying to play it off. “We haven’t really talked about it, but it’s not something either of us would die to experience. I’m an only child. Babies—kids—really aren’t my thing.”

  “Well, there’s nothing wrong with that. I just didn’t know you felt that way. I bet Jared would be an amazing father.”

  “He would be.” I nodded. Her words stung me, something I hadn’t expected.

  The afternoon was long. Bex hadn’t called with news of Jared, and the wait was making me grumpy. Jared always called, unless he was in trouble, and because he knew that I knew that, he should call, a lot.

  After my last class, my feet couldn’t move fast enough to the Beemer. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed, the same time searching my purse for keys.

  “He hasn’t called,” Bex answered.

  “Something’s wrong. Have you talked to Claire?”

  “Yes. Nothing’s wrong; he’s just busy.”

  “Then he would have called!” I said. Just as I slammed the phone shut, the Beemer and Bex came into view.

  “Get in. We’re going to Woonsocket.”

  Bex laughed without humor. “No, we’re not. Jared said to take you to Titan and then home. We’re to wait for him there.”

  “Well, I don’t work for Jared, nor am I trying to earn the big-brother approval, so get in the car or move.”

  Bex did neither. “I have orders, Nina.”

  He wasn’t as easy to persuade as Jared, because he wasn’t worried about making me angry. I had to try a different approach. He might look like a man, but he was still a thirteen-year-old boy.

  “Bex Gabriel Ryel, if you move a finger to keep me here, so help me, I will call your mother and tell her you used your hybrid-ness to restrain me against my will!”

  His stoic expression wavered as he considered the consequences. “Fine,” he said, his entire body relaxing. “Get in the car. I’ll drive.”

  I pushed up on the balls of my feet to kiss his cheek. “Thanks, Bexster!”

  His face screwed into disgust as he wiped the place where my lips touched his cheek. “Yuck!”

  With Bex driving his typical speed, the trip took less than twenty minutes. He sat in silence, pouting and no doubt planning the excuses he would offer Jared.

  When we arrived, I gasped at my surroundings. St. Anne’s was a work of art, looming with both authority and elegance over the quiet town. As beautiful as the outside was, the interior was breathtaking.

  Meticulously detailed murals of angels and saints adorned the walls and ceilings, with a larger one as the focal point. The painting was of Jesus, his arms outstretched, surrounded in light, and rows of angels, who basked in his glory. The entire room was inspirational, and a strange feeling came over me as I walked down the center aisle.

  Row after row of wooden pews bordered our way to the altar anchored at front of the church, where Jared and Kim stood with a priest.

  Jared’s expression wasn’t surprised or confused. He glanced once in my direction and then continued his conversation. Jared’s clear disregard only served to exacerbate my growing impatience with him.

  “Excuse me, Father,” I said, interrupting him. I pulled Jared a few steps away, purposefully glaring at Kim as I did so.

  “I can’t do this right now, Nina. I’m working.”

  “I thought I was your job? You know it worries me to death when you don’t call. Do you do it on purpose?”

  “Nina, calm down.”

  “I couldn’t concentrate in my classes and checked my phone every five seconds, hoping you would at least send a one word text—something! It would take just a moment of your time to set my mind at ease. You spend half of your life incessantly protecting me from everything and the other making me crazy!”

  “Child—” the priest began. His words had a hidden accent behind them, possibly British, diluted by years of service in America. His plea was cut short when the hundreds of candles glowing around us were extinguished in succession, from one side of the stage to the other.

  The priest watched me warily. “What is she?” he said, taking a step back.

  Jared took my hand. “This is she, Father Francis. She is the one.”

  The priest held his trembling hands to his mouth and then reached out to me. He grabbed my free hand with both of his and held it tightly. “The Mother,” he whispered, his eyes scanning my face with adoration.

  Bex lifted his chin. His eyes closed, but not before his lashes flickered as his eyes rolled back into his head. He took a deep breath, as if he were feeling the air around us, reaching with invisible tentacles to a different plane. “Jared,” he whispered.

  A loud repetitious banging echoed throughout the cathedral, and Father Francis dropped my hand, rushing to the large doors of the entrance.

  “You should stop him,” Kim said to Jared.

  “Father, wait,” Jared called. He grabbed my hand, following quickly behind the priest.

  The banging persisted, so loudly that I released Jared’s hand to cover my ears. The large doors vibrated with each blow.

  “Make it stop,” I said, closing my eyes.

  Kim and Bex were at my side, and Kim touched my shoulder before taking a few steps forward.

  The banging grew louder, and the door threatened to give way to the hammering from outside.

  “Make it stop!” I yelled over the noise.

  “Father,” Kim said, gently moving him to the side. She reached out with both hands, laying her palms flat against each door.

  I grabbed Jared’s arm, and then a quiet settled upon us, seeming more ominous than the banging.

  Father Francis pushed open the doors, and we all stood in horror at the sight before us.

  “Lord in Heaven,” Father Francis said, making a quick sign of the cross.

  “They . . .” I began, unable to finish.

  “Crows. Nice touch,” Kim said.

  Hundreds of lifeless, black birds littered the steps and sidewalk. The doors were covered in bloody splotches, dotting every place the crows had crashed into head first.

  “Mommy!” A small girl screamed. She pointed as her mother rushed her by the hand to their parked car across the street.

  Pedestrians stopped and stared at the unbelievable sight, pointing to the church and to the small horrified group hovering in the doorway.

  “Let us get inside,” Father Francis said, shooing us backward into the church. He pulled the doors shut, shaking his head. “This was a warning. They know what she is, and they are not happy she’s here.”

  “Merovingian?” I said, a sudden feeling of desperation evident in my voice.

  The priest’s face twisted in disgust. “Merovingian. Bah,” he grunted, shaking his head. “Nephilim,” he said, his voice returning to its soft tone. He touched each side of my face gently. His skin was tired and wilted, making it nearly impossible to see the kindness in his eyes, but it was there.

  “Tell me,” I said, a weak smile grazing my lips.

  “You are the woman clothed with the sun,” Father Francis said, in awe.

  I looked to Jared. His expression was pained, but he offered no explanation.

  “What?” I shook my head. “Pardon me, Father, but what the hell does that mean?”

  He took my hand and gestured for me to sit in the nearest pew. He sat with me, my hand in both of his. Kim, Bex, and Jared all took a seat as w
ell, scattered around us.

  “In Revelations, the Bible speaks of a woman clothed in the sun, with the moon at her feet, and she is with child in arduous times. She brings forth a man child who is to rule all nations. It speaks of the Holy Mother.”

  “Okay, but what does that have to do with me?” I said, frustrated and confused.

  “A woman of the same description is also the center of a prophecy of the Naissance de Demoniac. The main prophecy speaks of a woman clothed in the sun with the moon at her feet and the crown of ten stars on her head—a daughter of the Nephilim. She brings forth a son of God.”

  “I know. The child disturbs the balance, blah, blah, blah.” I looked to Jared. “You had to come to Woonsocket to hear something we already know?”

  Jared leaned his elbows onto the ridge of the pew, touching my hair with his thumb. “Father Francis is a scholar. He has studied the writings of the Naissance de Demoniac. I came here to ask for help.”

  “If he knows what it says, we don’t need the book,” I said, excited. “Can’t you just tell us what we need to know?”

  Father Francis squeezed my hand. “These prophecies are not in the stars or in the dreams of old men. Our world is a story that has already been written. The human-born angel will disturb the delicate balance of Heaven and Hell. It will be a new angel, not created in the dawn of time as all the others.” He smiled, but it didn’t give me peace the way he had surely meant for it to. “Demons fear the unknown as humans do—possibly even more so because of the limited truth they do not know.”

  “So we can’t stop it,” I said.

  “But that won’t stop Hell from trying,” the priest said, his voice grave.

  “I can’t stay here. I have to go,” I said, jumping to my feet. I ran out the front door, stopping when I felt the carcasses of birds under my feet. My hands flew to my eyes, overwhelmed.

  “It’s okay,” Jared whispered in my ear, sweeping me into his arms. He carried me across the street and then carefully set me in the passenger seat of the Beemer. His warm hand brushed the bangs from my face. “Get her home, Bex.”

  Bex nodded, turned the ignition, and slammed the shifter into gear. It took us half the drive time to reach Cynthia’s than it took to get to St. Anne’s.

  Bex parked in the garage and helped me up the stairs to my room. His normally playful, innocent eyes offered sympathy and concern well beyond his years.

  “We’ll figure this out, Nina. We’re not going to let anything happen to you. You know that.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” I said softly. I patted his shoulder and then walked into the bathroom, removing my clothes slowly and feeling numb.

  The steam floated up from behind the shower curtain and spilled over, filling the room with thick hazy warmth in minutes. I stood under the water, as hot as I could stand it, and tried to remember what Eli had said about being strong. Crying for my normal life was futile. Frivolous emotion would help nothing. Still, a heavy, portentous feeling settled over my entire body, weighing me down so much that the tile below my feet seemed to dig into my skin.

  The more we learned, the worse it was. Preventing the prophecy was useless, and even if we succeeded, Hell wouldn’t allow the possibility.

  The shower knobs complained when I turned them off, strangling the pipes. I towel-dried my hair and then wrapped my robe around me. When I pushed the door open, a ghostly cloud of steam followed me as I walked across my bedroom floor.

  I sat at my vanity, raking a comb through my damp, messy hair. The sea of black birds at the church haunted my thoughts, and the crunching sound their bodies made as Jared carried me across the street replayed over and over in my mind.

  “Don’t forget about dinner with Ryan tonight,” Bex said.

  “He won’t be here until seven,” I said, glancing at the clock. I still had an hour left.

  The main entrance door slammed in the lower level, and I heard not one but two pairs of light footsteps ascending the stairs.

  Jared stopped in the doorway of my bedroom. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” I said. I kept my back to him, but met his eyes in the mirror.

  Claire appeared beside him. “I heard.”

  The overly ceremonious doorbell chimed throughout the house. Moments later, Agatha joined Jared and Claire in the doorway of my room. “It’s a gentleman, love. A Mr. Scott to see you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “He’s early.” I stood, tightening the belt of my robe and then stormed through the path Claire and Jared made for me as they pressed their backs to the wall.

  My bare feet tapped against the stairs as I quickly made my way to the spot where Ryan stood.

  “You’re early,” I said, crossing my arms.

  Ryan smiled, his eyes scanning every corner of the room. “I’m sorry. I’ll wait.”

  “Agatha?” I called. When she didn’t answer, I gestured for Ryan to follow me. “I’ll show you to the great room.” Too late I remembered we had rearranged the furniture for our sparring matches.

  “Redecorating?” Ryan asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  “Something like that,” I said. “I’ll just be a minute.”

  Ryan nodded, and I jogged up the stairs. Jared and his siblings stood in the center of my room when I returned, seeming nervous and out of place.

  “It’s just Ryan,” I said. Once the words came out of my mouth, Claire’s eyes widened, and she shoved me aside, pushing my bedroom door shut.

  Her finger touched her lips, and she waited, keeping her hand against the door.

  “Nina?” Ryan called, knocking twice.

  “Yes?” I said, shrugging to Claire.

  “I couldn’t help but notice the Lotus Exige you have parked out front. New car?”

  Claire’s eyes squeezed shut, and then she looked at me again, shaking her head.

  “Er, no, I believe my mother has company this evening. I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”

  It was silent for a few moments, but then Ryan knocked on the door again.

  “Yes?” I said, unable to hide the irritation in my voice. I glanced back at Jared, hoping he would give a sign as to what I should do.

  “Isn’t that the same car Claire drove the night we first saw her at the pub?”

  When Jared held out his arms and shrugged, I sighed. “I can’t remember, Ryan. Do you want me to get ready or not?”

  “The thing is,” he said, his voice just on the other side of the door, “I ran the plates, and it’s registered to Claire Ryel.”

  For the first time, Claire looked nervous. She rubbed the back of her neck the way her brother rubbed his when things between us were tense. It struck me as funny, and a smile forced its way to the surface.

  “It’s not funny!” Claire mouthed silently. When I covered my mouth with my hand, a smile crept across her face as well.

  “Uh,” I said, turning once again to Jared. He rolled his eyes, gesturing for us to somehow fix the mess we’d made. “She was here. She was here earlier helping me, er, pick out a dress.”

  “So she walked home?” Ryan said from the hall.

  “No. No, she didn’t,” I said, stalling.

  Claire desperately pointed at Jared.

  “Jared took her home!” I said.

  Ryan puffed. “Okay, but the Escalade is parked behind the Lotus.”

  “Shit!” I whispered, interlocking my fingers on top of my head. “He . . . took her home on his motorcycle.”

  Claire gave me a thumb’s up, and I relaxed a bit, hoping Ryan would accept my story.

  “Nina,” Ryan said. “Could I talk to Claire for a minute? Just . . . Just for one minute.” The door handle moved, and Claire’s hand instantly gripped around it, refusing to let it budge a millimeter more.

  “She’s not here, Ryan. I told you.”

  “Then open the door.”

  “I’m not dressed.”

  “I’ve seen you that way before.”

  Jared frowned and I laughed once. �
�It’s different now.”

  “Claire?” Ryan said. “Can I talk to you? Please? I won’t take up much of your time, I swear. I just need to, uh . . . Wow,” he chuckled, “I feel really stupid right now.”

  I cringed, knowing I would have to be mean to him. “You should, since she’s not here,” I said.

  “Claire, please?” he asked.

  Claire leaned her forehead silently against the door. She bit her lip and sighed. “Go away, Ryan.”

  “Claire?” Ryan said, his voice excited. “Please open the door.”

  “Nina told me what you said. It’s sweet, but,” she cringed, “you’re crazy.”

  “I know what I saw,” Ryan said, his tone notably less enthusiastic than before. “I know you were there.”

  “Right. I was in Afghanistan or wherever, sniping Al Qaeda and carrying you over my back for miles. Sounds like me,” she snapped.

  “I just want to see you,” Ryan said. “I need to see you to be sure.”

  Jared shook his head, and Claire’s expression grew impatient. “Beat it, Ryan,” she said.

  After a short pause, Ryan hit the door with the side of his fist. “I’m not leaving until I see you!”

  “What are you going to do?” Claire yelled, taking a step away from the door. “Wave your shiny badge around and impress us to death?”

  “Open the door!” Ryan demanded.

  “No!” Claire said.

  “Fine!” he replied. “But I’m not giving up on you.”

  He stomped down the stairs and slammed the door.

  13. Lesson

  “I need the keys to your bike,” Claire said, holding out her hand to Bex.

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I have to follow him, and he knows my freaking car! Give me your keys!” she said, jerking her hand toward Bex, impatiently.

  In one swift movement, Bex handed his motorcycle keys to his big little sister. She wheeled around, sprinting down the stairs.

  “Don’t forget the helmet,” he called after her.

  “Shove it!” she yelled before slamming the door.

  I walked to my vanity, sitting hard onto the delicate pink cushion of the bench. “This is bad.”

  Jared took slow steps to stand beside me. “Ryan is the least of our worries.”