He spun around and walked away, running his hands through his hair. I was glad to see that at least I wasn’t the only one who needed a minute to compose myself. Finally, he turned to face me.
‘I’m sorry, Vi. I shouldn’t have… I just couldn’t…looking at you…’ He flung a hand towards me. ‘That dress. Watching that creep put his hands on you. I…Damn it! I’m sorry.’
It was hard to know if I should be happy or sad. ‘I’m not. Sorry, that is. I know you felt that.’
‘We can’t have this conversation.’
‘Linc, please, tell me I’m not crazy.’
He looked at me and smiled almost painfully. ‘You’re not crazy. We just…can’t.’
‘Why?’ I looked at him, my eyes begging him to hold me again. I was sure, in that instant, he wanted to be holding me too. But as I watched, his face shut down.
‘It’s complicated. You’ll understand soon. Sooner than you realise. I shouldn’t have been so reckless, so selfish. I’m sorry.’ He looked down at his feet like a guilty child. I think it was the third time he’d apologised. Not the most encouraging sign.
‘Linc, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I actually thought that was kind of unbelievable as far as kisses go.’ I was glad we were in the dark and he couldn’t see me blushing.
He made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a growl of frustration. He pulled me in for a hug, which I fell into, feeling crushed. I had the strangest feeling we were stealing this moment and no matter how tightly I held on, it wouldn’t help. Lincoln’s next words were soft and perhaps not even meant for me, but they burned their way right into my soul.
‘Did you ever think we would be anything other than unbelievable?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘A lie would have no sense unless the truth were felt as dangerous.’
Alfred Adler
‘OH-MY-GOD! Then what…?’ Steph was hyper-ventilating over the phone. I cringed and put a hand to my head.
‘Then…he walked me home and barely said goodnight before he bolted.’
‘What? That’s it? Are you holding out on me? I don’t understand!’ she exclaimed, ramping up the pitch with each question.
‘Neither do I.’
I wanted to cry. Now, not only did I know I wanted him, but I knew there was a part of him that wanted me too and together we were amazing.
‘Oh, Vi, don’t worry, you guys will sort it out one day. Maybe he’s just worried about the age difference or he’s scared of hurting you or something.’
It was a possibility and I clung to it like the last life vest on the Titanic. I didn’t buy into the age-difference crap; five years wasn’t that much. But the other theory was possible. Maybe after everything he’d found out about me, he didn’t know how to be with me that way. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t want to be with him. It was a stretch, but I had nothing else.
‘Steph, I’ve got to go. I have to go see him. I’m sick of this. One way or another, I need to know what’s going on.’
‘Well, about time! I expect a full play-by-play later. Bye. Oh – take an umbrella.’
An umbrella was an understatement. By the time I stepped outside the rain was torrential. My plan of figuring out my whole speech while I walked to Lincoln’s flew out the window as I opened the door to a cab. Suddenly I only had a few minutes to compose myself and map out a quick strategy.
I knew I needed to find out exactly why he didn’t want to be with me. Even if it was going to be the most humiliating experience of my life, it had to be done. I couldn’t keep pretending this thing between us wasn’t there. If he was worried about my past, I knew I could assure him I wasn’t scared to be with him. That was categorically one thing I could do.
I looked at my watch as the cab pulled up outside Lincoln’s. It was midday. I remembered that he and I were supposed to have gone for a run this morning. It dawned on me that he hadn’t showed to pick me up – or even called. My stomach twisted with doubt. I considered hailing another cab and just going straight back home. As much as I didn’t want to consider it, I couldn’t ignore the other possibility, the one I had been trying not to think about. Now that Lincoln knew my secrets, did he think I was damaged goods?
Here I was, in the pouring rain, trying to figure out how to make something happen between us, while he was probably avoiding me. I took cover in the alcove beside his front steps. It didn’t really help – even with my umbrella it was useless – the rain was coming in sideways. My favourite Alice in Wonderland T-shirt was soaked. Thankfully, it was black rather than white.
I just needed a moment. I wasn’t going to run away, but taking a few minutes to pull myself together was allowed. I rested my head against the alcove wall and concentrated on simply…breathing.
I heard Lincoln’s front door click open.
Tucked under the umbrella, I could only see two pairs of feet standing above me, just inside his door. The familiar Adidas trainers I knew were Lincoln’s and a well-worn pair of black Blundstones. I hesitated at the sharp sound of an unfamiliar male voice.
‘She must be told. You’ve gotten too close, Lincoln. Remember who you are, what you are. Remember what she is!’
Lincoln sounded urgent, pleading. ‘She’s not ready! There are things we didn’t know about her. She needs more time.’
‘Her or you?’ the stranger said crisply. ‘Violet has come of age, she must decide, as we all have. You know this, that’s why you’re here.’
My stomach was sinking. I stayed quiet, apart from my thudding heart, mushroomed under my umbrella like any passer-by taking a moment to rest.
‘Griffin, her life will change forever. You don’t know her like I do,’ Lincoln said quickly.
Griffin wasn’t happy. I heard him tapping the doorframe impatiently. ‘You’re not looking at this properly. You’ve lost faith in her. Or is it something else? Is it that you want to play protector to her, rather than allow her to become a protector?’
Protector? What the hell?
They were both silent for a moment and I thought they must have noticed me. I held my breath, but then Lincoln spoke again.
‘Fine, have it your way, but not today. Give me a few days. Finding out you’re part angel is a lot to take in, let alone the rest. I don’t want Violet to panic when she realises her whole world is going to change.’
I couldn’t be sure if I was breathing. It was all happening in some bizarre virtual reality and I wasn’t in control. I let the umbrella slide out of my hand as I stepped towards the base of the steps. Lincoln was in the doorway, his back to me. The other man, Griffin, saw me instantly and met my eyes with recognition – the kind that said he knew I’d heard everything. The kind that said he knew exactly who I was.
He looked back to Lincoln. ‘I’m sorry, Lincoln, but today’s going to be the day after all. It seems it’s now out of both of our hands.’
‘Well, I won’t do it,’ Lincoln snapped, still not realising I was behind him. ‘I won’t tell her!’ He hit the door so hard it splintered and caused me to flinch.
I took a step up, realising in that instant that everything had changed. Somehow I knew I could never go back.
‘Too late,’ I said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘The Angel said, “Let the one who does wrong, still do wrong, and the one who is filthy still be filthy; and let the one who is righteous, still practise righteousness.”’
Revelations 22:11
It felt like hours passed as Lincoln and I stood, staring at each other. Images of that first day we met, of us just accidentally meeting in that self-defence class, flashed into my head. Had everything been a lie?
I had to get away. I turned and stumbled towards the street. My umbrella was still open, dangling by my side. I was glad for the rain now. It covered the tears streaming down my face.
‘Violet, wait!’ Lincoln called out to me, running down the stairs.
I stopped but didn’t turn.
‘I can explain!’ he yel
led over the rain.
It felt like the skies were crying for me. ‘Fine! Explain!’ I yelled back, still not turning to face him. How could I ever look at him again knowing that it was all lies – and I was more sure of it by the second, sure that the whole time he had known me he’d been lying to me.
‘We’re called Grigori. We are part angel, part human. It happens soon after we’re born, but we only come of age when we turn seventeen. The same way you’re coming of age now.’
I spun to face him, desperate to prove to myself that this was all some sick joke. Droplets of water fell from the tips of his hair and pooled in the crease of his lips. He looked amazing, which just made everything worse.
‘You’re insane!’ I yelled in a shaky voice. Oh my God, was he delusional? What had I missed? Usually, I had a good psycho radar.
‘I wouldn’t lie to you about this,’ he said, his eyes pleading.
‘No? Just about everything else then!’ I spat the words at him, literally, sprays of water flying from my lips as I spoke. I looked around for escape, for salvation. The streets were deserted; no one was stupid enough to be outside. ‘How do you know I’m one of these “Grig” whatever, anyway?’
‘Grigori. It happened when you were born and your mother died. If a parent dies within twelve days of their child’s birth, the combination of new life coinciding with new death creates a gateway for an angel to impart a piece of its essence.’
‘That doesn’t explain how you know about me!’
He looked back at Griffin as if seeking support. Griffin did not move from the shelter of the doorframe. Lincoln turned back to me, arms wide. ‘I know because an angel told me. I know because we all have a destined partner, someone who is already a Grigori…or will become one. I know because…you’re my partner, Violet.’
He dropped his head and I knew this was bad. Bad, bad, bad. He put a hand on my shoulder. ‘Please…come inside. We’ll explain everything.’
I wanted to run, to scream, to cry, to do something, anything, but I needed to know. My brain urged me to call it what it was – bullshit. I mean, this stuff just doesn’t happen, not in real life, and last I looked I wasn’t in some twisted sci-fi flick. The problem was, my mind was screaming one thing while some other part of me was holding me back, grinding me to a heavy halt. Something in my gut, the place I had learned to trust, that place I had always credited with instinct and intuition. And then there was my mother’s letter, her words taunting me – There are spirits in this world…Could this really be true?
I pushed Lincoln’s hand off my shoulder and moved past him, for the first time not wanting to feel his touch or look into his eyes.
Griffin stood in the doorway, waiting. I stopped in front of him, staring daggers. ‘Am I what he says?’
Griffin looked straight at me, holding my gaze easily. ‘We are all what he says.’
I don’t know how or why, but looking into his eyes, I suddenly knew it was true. It was as if he had penetrated the deepest layers of my guards and unearthed a truth buried deep within me. At first it felt like something poisonous was worming its way through me, but then I realised it was the rest of me that felt poisonous – and that small hidden part was more pure than anything else.
This wasn’t some twisted joke. No hidden cameras, no straitjackets. I felt like I could see my world as I knew it shift, change. It moved away from me.
Inside the warehouse, Lincoln gave me towels, which I ignored. Instead, I sat in his favourite armchair, soaking it. He didn’t say anything and after giving Griffin and me coffee he moved back to the kitchen stools, sensing I didn’t want him near.
Griffin sat on the couch and while we both sipped our coffees I took a closer look at his face. At first I had presumed he was over thirty, but now I put his age closer to twenty-five. He was pleasant enough to look at. Flat brown hair, short and neat. Clothes – black pants and blue shirt – well-tailored and freshly pressed, at odds with his old, scuffed boots. It was a conservative look for someone so young. That was one reason I had assumed he was older; the other was his light grey eyes. They were wiser, more knowing than his years could possibly explain. He looked boring, it was the only way to describe him, but I trusted him instantly. Trusted those eyes.
‘I don’t know if I even believe in angels,’ I said.
‘It doesn’t matter. You will,’ Griffin replied.
I lost count of the coffee refills as he told me the story and history of angels and of the Grigori.
I listened as he explained that angels existed in their own realm. He went on about some kind of onion. I missed most of it. I mean, I was listening to the words, but I was still stuck on the Oh yeah, you’re part angel bit! It was something about the universe having layers. The angel realm was one, our world was another.
Angels had no physical form. Their purpose was to observe and guide humanity, but never directly interfere. They worked like a governing force over the human world, offering options and even influencing free will. Angels influenced all other creatures and the elements as well – animals, climate, nature – they had a hand in everything.
For humans, angels guided through dreams, epiphanies, or constructing coincidences. Angels could lead a person towards choices of light or dark, and often somewhere in between. They could encourage envy and lust as much as compassion and mercy. But encourage is all they were supposed to do. The choice, in the end, still lay with the individual human.
‘Light and dark? You mean, good and evil?’ I asked. ‘But aren’t all angels meant to be good – like helping from above or something?’
‘It’s not as simple as that, Violet. Angels do help us in the role they play in their realm, but with all things there has to be balance. Just as there are angels who perform miracles of rain in a drought, there are those who facilitate the drought to begin with. For every angel who encourages someone towards an enlightened path, there is one who entices someone to a path of darkness. It’s about keeping a balance of light and dark in our world, without interfering with free will.’
As he spoke, my hand went absentmindedly to my shoulder and I thought about the man in my dream who’d told me he was me and then lashed out at me with a claw. Was he an angel?
Griffin continued to explain that angels were forbidden from leaving the angel realm. But there were some angels – both of light and dark – who resented their role of servitude. They believed that, as superior beings, humans should be the ones serving them. The most determined of them abandoned their duties and exiled themselves from the angel realm, assuming human form to seek power and revenge.
In human form, exiled angels still possessed angelic strengths and abilities, along with immortality. But in choosing exile, they abandoned all the morals and structure by which they were previously bound. Because they had never had a body before, the atmosphere of their new world eventually overwhelmed them. Processing human emotions and adjusting to the physical senses – touch, feel, smell – was all too much. Ultimately, exiles lost their ability to maintain balance and sensibility, and could deteriorate the longer they were human.
‘So being human works like some kind of disease?’ I asked.
‘You could look at it like that, like a mental disease,’ Griffin said.
‘But I don’t understand why the good ones, I mean…angels of light,’ I corrected, trying to keep up with all the lingo, ‘would choose to become exiles in the first place?’
He smiled as if my question had answered itself, which bugged me. ‘That’s because you think of light as only good – it’s what you’ve been taught. But no creature is faultless. Angels are free to make their own choices and decisions, just like humans. It’s called free will,’ he said simply.
‘So all exiles are bad?’
‘Basically. They do differ in their approach – for exiles of light, having a human body is like giving a cult leader with an insane cause free reign and no consequences. For exiles of dark, it’s more like giving a serial killer weekend release f
rom jail and putting a gun in their hands.’
I shuddered. Griffin watched me carefully. It occurred to me that he was sizing me up.
‘Let me be very clear here, Violet – angels do not belong on earth, no matter what their role once was. There are rare exceptions when an exile will try to coexist quietly among humans. But most exiled angels are corrupted, dangerous and lethal. Their extravagant wars, combined with their need to exalt themselves over humanity, make them the kind of predator most people cannot even begin to imagine.’
‘They’re at war with each other?’ It was surreal, hearing myself ask these questions. Angels, other realms, good and evil… I was tempted to pinch myself, check if I was dreaming, even though I knew I wasn’t.
‘Since the beginning of time, light and dark have always been in opposition. In the angel realm, they are bound by their laws – in our world, there are no such restrictions. An eternity of rivalry between the two forces is given the perfect arena on earth. The visual effects of slaying flesh are much more…gratifying than spiritual combat.’
Griffin stared at me, his expression grave. ‘There are only three things both light and dark exiles have in common. They despise each other, they hate Grigori, and they place no value on the casualties of their brutal wars.’
Excellent news. Not only was I apparently some weird angel-human combo, but I already had myself a badass immortal enemy.
CHAPTER NINE
‘Our duty is to be useful, not according to our desires but according to our powers.’
Henri Frederic Amiel
We sat in silence. Lincoln was looking anywhere but at me. Griffin seemed to be waiting – probably giving me a chance to process. Like that was going to happen. I found myself staring at my wall, the wall I was going to have so much fun painting.
‘OK,’ I sighed. I knew I couldn’t avoid this conversation. ‘So, what are Grigori?’
Griffin snapped to right away. He was well into lecturer mode. ‘When angels first began taking human form and wreaking havoc on earth, their governing body – the Seraphim – made an agreement. They devised a plan to put what they called Grigori on earth. Originally, angels held these positions. However, the same weaknesses that affected exiles also weakened the angels and they failed. So the Seraphim found another way.’
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