“It’s not that easy. I mean, you’re lucky; you don’t love anyone,” I said.
“Yeah...lucky,” she said softly as she slid her head away from me.
Looking back, that was a moment I should have picked up on. Dear Omnis, I was so clueless at the time. I had never lied to any girl I had been with, and Diana was no exception. I told her the truth; I couldn’t be in a serious relationship. I was too screwed up, and besides any girl would always come second to Pryor; that wasn’t fair to whomever I was with.
Normally when I told the girls I was only in it for a night or two, they were okay with the arrangement. They were quick to run and tell everyone we’d spent the night together. When asked, I would never confirm anything. I felt the girls deserved their privacy. If they wanted to shout out a list of their bedroom encounters, that was up to them. But the Angel and Demon worlds would never hear anything about my encounters from me. I always thought that was childish but then again I wasn’t much better, so whatever.
Then there were a few girls that wanted relationships. Although I had warned them I wasn’t boyfriend material and I was not looking for the same things they were. The fact is, when you sit a girl down and say “I don’t want to be with anyone” what she hears is “he doesn’t want to be with me.” Knowing that, it became my job to spot the girls who wanted something long-term and stay away from them. That way I wouldn’t be a jerk off and hurt them.
But Diana was different—she wasn’t looking for anything long-term either. Yes, we spent months together, but many times she talked about loving her freedom and not understanding why humans and angels are so hooked on the whole “love” thing.
I convinced myself of this but as the weeks went on, I knew I was in trouble. For one thing, she kept asking about Pryor. She wanted to know how long I’d had feelings for her and why I couldn’t just turn my feelings off. We argued a lot more and although the makeup sex was mind blowing, there was definitely tension.
In the end though, we didn’t part ways because of emotions. We parted ways because it turns out in the end we were very different...
One morning we had planned an attack. We waited until after hours and had placed bombs inside the Para headquarters in China. Minutes before they were set to go off, I found out a few Paras were actually left in the building.
“We have to go and get them,” I told Diana.
“What, no way!” she replied.
“Look, I told you I would destroy property and make the Paras’ lives hell, but I’m not killing anyone.”
“The Center is run mostly by Paras. They are the enemy here. Why not take out a few of them?” she asked.
“Most Paras are bastards because they think they have some kind of monopoly on goodness. They’re arrogant and entitled. And yeah, sometimes I wish I could snap their necks. But they are still angels and I’m not going to stand by and let them get killed.”
“You stood by while I killed demons, so what’s the difference?”
“The difference is those demons were going to attack us.”
“And the Paras didn’t attack you?”
“That’s different. The Paras who work at The Center don’t represent every Para out there,” I informed her.
“So why have you been helping me destroy their buildings?” she asked.
“Buildings can be replaced. I’m not taking a life.”
“How long do you think you can go on denying your true nature? You’re a fucking demon, just get over yourself,” she rages.
“Call me whatever you want, but I’m going to save them,” I shout as I run back into the building.
I manage to enter the building and warn them in time. The Paras narrowly escape the blow of flames. Once they are safe, I take off and head back to the designated meeting place, just outside Beijing.
It’s late and the colorful streets are fairly empty. I walk into the alley and see her silhouette. She’s leaned up against the wall, smoking Alka. Alka looks like a human cigarette but it’s black and has a neon green glow at the tip. When you exhale, the smoke replays the last few moments before you lit it. The more you smoke, the further back it goes. Smoking is just as stupid for angels and demons as it is for humans. It dulls your senses and weakens your power over time.
“Everyone’s safe,” I told her.
“My hero,” she says, dripping sarcasm.
“I told you I couldn’t let the Paras die.”
“You’re the one who’s always talking about what little shits Paras are. Now we have a chance to take a few out and you bail?”
“What is with you and killing people?” I demand.
“Um, well I don’t know if you know this or not but I’M A FUCKING DEMON!”
“That doesn’t mean you have to be this way,” I argue.
“I’m not this way; we are this way. You have the temper of an evil being. You have the powers evil beings have and I don’t give a damn how grey your damn wings are, you are evil. Today was your chance to stop running away from who you are and you blew it.”
That’s when I look at the puff of smoke she’s blowing into the air. In it there is a hazy image of her watching the Paras enter the building earlier.
“Did you know there were angels in the building?” I ask.
“Silver, I can’t help you if you are not willing to admit who you truly are.”
“DID YOU KNOW THEY WERE IN THERE?”
“Yeah, I did; so what. Angels die.”
“You can’t possibly understand because you don’t feel anything for anyone. I’m done,” I replied as I turned and walked away.
“Silver, wait. That’s not true.”
I turn and face her but keep the distance between us.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“There is someone I have feelings for. I tried to help him today because... I love him,” she said as she averted her eyes.
“Diana...”
“I’m trying to help you become who you really are.”
“The guy who you think I am; I’m not that guy.”
“Then who are you?”
“Someone who stayed too long. Good bye, Diana.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN: IF I HAVE TO...
The sound of thunder jars me back to the present. It has started to rain, hard. It’s the kind of rain that can only be brought on by an angel in pain. Or in this case, I’m guessing Pryor’s mom, Emmy. Her emotions alter the weather since she is Death and very powerful. And by now she has to know that her son is dead.
“Wow, someone’s upset,” Diana says as the rain pounds violently on the window.
“One of your teammates killed her son,” I reply.
“That was Harm. He got in the house by possessing the boy next door.”
“How can you say that so calmly? He was just a kid,” I bark at her.
“I wasn’t the one who killed him.”
“But if it came down to it, you would, right?” I ask.
“Is that why you called me here? To judge me?”
“Whatever. Can you help her? I need you to give her the same mixture you gave me so I could not be tracked.”
“You want me to give her Lanta?”
“Yes, and fix her wings,” I reply.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Silver? Maybe give you a foot massage, a lap dance or perhaps feed you some grapes?”
“Diana—”
“I never told anyone that I...I stood in that alley and I said things to you that I have never said to anyone. Anyone. And you walked away. Now you want my help?”
“Diana, I know the way we ended—”
“We didn’t end. You ended us,” she snaps.
“It never would have worked out. We have different views and nothing will change that,” I remind her.
“Yes, because you’re still running from your nature. How long are you going to keep running?”
“We can’t have this discussion right now. Please just take care of Pryor for me.”
> She goes over to the bed and studies the unconscious First Noru.
“She’s not like I thought she’d be,” Diana says.
“What does that mean?”
“She’s so...ordinary. And her hair, it looks like your bed’s on fire.”
I was losing patience with Diana but knowing she is the only one who can help, I let that comment go.
“Can you fix her?” I ask.
“First you answer my questions.”
I sigh in utter frustration and nod in agreement.
“Did you know that I was...feeling things for you?” she asks.
“I suspected. I should have picked up on it much earlier, but I didn’t. I didn’t think you were the relationship type,” I admit.
“I wasn’t.”
“Okay, I can say what you want to hear.”
“Tell me, Silver, what do I want you to say?”
“That I’m sorry for the way I left things. I am. I should have addressed the issue of us way before you started to feel anything for me.”
“Do you know when that was?” she asks.
“I’m guessing a few weeks after we met,” I reply.
“When we were rushing out the window and you asked my name, that’s when I told you my human name. That’s when I fell for you. Day one.”
Now I officially feel like crap.
“Diana, I didn’t know.”
“Was there ever anything between us?” she asks in a small voice.
“Yeah, of course. You and I, we had great chemistry.”
“ ‘Chemistry’?” she says, laughing.
“I needed someone and you were there. I’m never going to forget that.”
“Look, I’m a Kaster now. So helping you wouldn’t be the smart thing to do.”
“Diana, you can’t—”
“But I’m going to do the stupid thing and help her. Ever since I met you I’ve been doing stupid things. I didn’t understand love until us. Now I do. Love is a slow peeling away of sense and self-control. Once that’s gone you are left with foolish decisions and desperate acts. To be in love is to be a slave. I’m free of you after this.”
“Thank you,” I reply.
She takes various mixtures out from her purse. She instructs me to get vials, water, and utensils to stir the mixtures. I follow her directions closely. When everything is finally mixed, she is left with two vials. One of them is silver and the other is bright red.
“I could give her the wrong thing and watch her die,” she says.
“You wouldn’t do that,” I reply.
“Because I’m such a good person?” she mocks.
“Because you know what her death would do to me.”
*******
After Diana administers the mixtures to Pryor, she tells me it will take a few hours for them to take effect. Meanwhile, she places what’s left of the red mixture on my wings. She tells me it will help them heal from the attack but that it’s wise to rest and not fly for a while. I study her movements. She really is a gifted Specialist. Her mixtures are precise and potent. I can already feel my wings beginning to mend.
“I forgot how focused you are when you’re working,” I tell her.
“I can’t make a mistake.”
“You already made one. I mean really, Diana, Malakaro? How could you go work for him?”
“Being a Kaster enhances my powers greatly. Why would I turn that down?”
And here we are, on different sides yet again.
“Hey, you remember when we snuck into Disney World after it closed?” she says.
“I can never look at a tea cup the same way again,” I reply, shaking my head in amusement.
She burst out laughing. I’d forgotten her laugh. It was melodic and filled the room. I think in another life things could have worked out for us.
“Diana, you know I never meant to hurt you, right?” I ask.
She looks up at me and there’s sadness behind her eyes. It’s slight but I swear it’s there.
“I waited,” she confesses.
“Waited?”
“Yeah, that night I waited for you to come back to the alley. I figured you were blowing off steam.”
I don’t know what to say to that. No matter what, I’m the jerk in this. Yet I would not have done anything differently. I had to go that night, that much I know. She clears her throat and starts to put her supplies away.
“How’s your health now that you are near her?” Diana asks, looking at my chest.
“It’s fine,” I lie.
“No, it’s not. The closer you are to ‘flames’ over there, the worse it becomes,” she says, signaling towards Pryor.
“I’m handling it.”
“How?” she pushes.
“I’m making sure that we are just friends and nothing more.”
“Silver, the carving was moving back then and she was nowhere near you. Now that you two are together...”
“Pryor and I aren’t together.”
“Wait, so you two aren’t having—”
“No, we’re not,” I say hurriedly.
“Have you two ever...?”
“No, we haven’t and I really don’t want to discuss this.”
“We can go out to the shed and see if there’s any ‘chemistry’ left between us,” she says.
“Thanks, but I just want to stay with her and make sure she’s okay.”
“Just thought I’d offer,” she replies as she heads for the door.
“Silver, everything aside, Malakaro enhanced our powers far beyond what any demons have known before. He’s serious about killing her,” she warns.
“He’s gonna have to go through me.”
“He called on Harm to take out the youngest Noru. Harm did his job. And if the time comes, and Malakaro needs me to take one or all of you out...I will.”
“I know...”
*******
The first thing Pryor does when she opens her eyes is scan her surroundings in an effort to place where I have taken her.
“Where am I?” she asks.
“Northern Ireland. Do you remember what happened?”
She nods but doesn’t speak.
“Pry, I’m sorry about Sam.”
She looks away from me and directs her attention towards the ceiling.
“My mom knows about Sam, doesn’t she?” she says, referencing the storm outside.
“Yes, but I’m sure your father is helping her cope,” I reply.
She doesn’t say anything. She just stares off into space.
“We’re not really sure what happened with your powers,” I admit, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s like all our powers: connected to our emotions. I lost control. Did I kill anyone?” she asks in a weak voice.
“The injured humans have been taken to hospitals. I’m sure they will all pull through.”
“If one of them dies?” she asks.
“Then the Omari will come for you, but that won’t happen. I won’t let them punish you. Please don’t worry about that,” I assure her.
“They can come, I don’t care,” she says, void of any emotion whatsoever.
“Don’t say that. You do care. You’re just mourning so—”
“Is Randy okay?” she asks, still not facing me.
“The team is looking after him. And trying to smooth things over with the board.”
She looks over at her wings. They are torn in certain spots and she is unable to move them.
“The Powerball from the Omari did that. You know how they get when human lives are in danger. I’ve been treating your wings with a mixture that should work. It’s helped my wings, but yours were more damaged than mine so it may take longer,” I tell her.
“What time is it in New York?” she asks.
“Um...about three in the afternoon.”
“It’s time to give Sam his snack...” she says, mostly to herself.
Before I can reply, she turns on her side and closes her eyes. She would not o
pen them again for another three days.
*******
Normally for an angel, Recharging is a way for them to revitalize themselves. But in the past three days that Pryor has been Recharging she has only gotten weaker. Her skin is pale and her wings are starting to fray. That happens when an angel is malnourished. When their soul is being attacked. It’s what humans would call depression.
Pryor is not the only one having a tough time with Sam’s death. Her mother is still causing it to rain, though it has now slowed down, the skies are still murky and often crack open with wrathful lightning.
I call Key and ask her what she thinks I should do. Right away she insists on coming over but I am now the First Noru, until Pryor gets better. So, I order her to stay where she is and continue to heal the humans so we can come back home. Key gives me a list of things to get in order to make a mixture called Atcha; it acts as a supplement and helps keep the soul from weakening even more.
I head to the Seller shop nearby that I’ve been to before. It looks like an ordinary shop with everyday toys displayed in the window. But I know it’s a Seller shop because it has a meter attached to the doorframe. A meter looks like a thin thermometer. It can tell the difference between demon and angel. Since Sellers are not allowed to sell to demons, the meter will sound an alarm if a demon enters.
Since I’m half demon it’s a fifty-fifty chance the alarm will go off. Sellers are basically the “snake oil salesmen” of the Angel world. They are shady and greedy. So, even if I were full demon, they would sell to me but they would do so secretly. And that takes too damn long.
Fortunately, the alarm doesn’t go off. I enter, have a short conversation with the Seller, and get what I need. As I walk out, I decide to test Diana’s mixture. I walk back in the shop and ask the Seller if he’s ever seen me and he says “no.” He has no recollection of having met me just moments before. Diana’s mixture works perfectly.
When I get back to the cabin, I follow the instructions Key gave me and create the mixture. I pour the silver and blue mixture into a bowl, put it aside and wake her.
She pops open her eyes, on high alert.
“Hey, I didn’t want to wake you but you need to—”
“I need a Port,” she says as she leaps up off the bed.
“Why?” I ask.
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