by Tara Brown
The man makes no sound as he scrambles to his feet and runs from the rooftop.
In the silence I still hear Marcus laughing. He’s such a shit. He tries not to act like his entire world is run by Lorelei, but it is. And we all know it.
I scan around, wondering where I am. A fog sits in my head, desperately trying to make everything a short-term memory. I don't know what I did yesterday. I don't know when I ate or slept last. I don't know anything other than my heart hurts.
I turn to search the roof for the door since I can’t recall how I got here, but I freeze.
Something terrible lurks in the corner, hiding in the shadows, where a dark deed such as it should be.
I don't fully comprehend it right away. It takes a whole minute to soak in.
In the darkest shadows, Ben, one of my best friends, is making out with a girl while his brother, Lucas, watches. Something about his handsome face that bothers me. I suppose it’s the hungry look in his eyes.
Words stumble from my parted and trembling lips, “What the hell?”
“Hey! I didn't see you there.” Lucas turns, beaming.
My stomach aches as anger trickles through me, tiptoeing as if it’s not sure why it’s there. “What? No!”
He shrugs and kisses the young woman’s neck. The very act is uncharacteristic of them both.
I cover my eyes, rubbing tightly, and then look again. But they’re still here, doing something I know in my soul is wrong. My brain can’t remember why it’s wrong, not fully. My grip on the feather tightens. “Where is everyone else? Where’s Ari?”
Ben grins at me as the young woman tilts her head for Lucas. “Why? Who cares? We all agreed to meet up here tonight. They’ll be by soon enough.”
I am completely stunned by what’s actually happening and right in front of me to boot. I pocket my feather and wink, shoving both men, and then wink again.
The girl and I are standing on a hillside outside Eastern Washington, in the desert. She shivers from the cold air. “How did you do that? Where are we?”
I don't want to talk to her. I don't want to know anything about her. But I do have one question. “How did you meet him—them?”
“Some girl with black eyes and dark hair dragged me over to them. She told me she had lost a bet and I was the prize. I don’t remember how we got to the rooftop.” The blonde girl has a pretty face and lush lips.
She smiles at me, seeming oblivious to the fact I’m holding her by the throat. Her pupils suggest she’s seconds away from OD’-ing and the lazy smile on her lips is familiar. Alise and Giselle used to have it when they did Ecstasy.
I pull her into me, pressing her soft lips against mine and kiss, pulling her soul from her thin body.
I drop her, letting her small corpse slump into the sagebrush next to me. I don't even know why I killed her or why in my brain it has come to be called freeing. I freed her and I don't know why. I have to assume it was because she was high. Or had I done it for Ari?
Do I do anything for Ari?
I don't even know the last time I spoke to her. In my memories it feels like only a moment ago, but how long is a moment now? I don't know that either. I’m sure, at the most, it’s been days since I saw her, but it might be months. It might be years. They are slipping away from me like a riverbank. Everything has become one fluid mess, and I don't know how to escape it. It seems like the more I struggle, the worse it gets.
My fingers claw at the side of my leg, crawling into my pocket where it lies. I drag it out, running the soft white feather across my lips.
I say his name, “Dorian.” I whisper it to the feather, wondering if he hears me, as though it’s a one-sided radio; he has the earpiece and I have the microphone. “Dorian. Come back and help me.” Saying it makes me shake.
I glance down at the girl as the reality of what I have needlessly done slips into my mind and heart. I take an uneasy step back, wishing I didn't see her dead body. It will be all I see for days, or seconds, depending which is longer. Time has been a tricky mistress lately.
I wink to the club. The air is filled with sweaty excitement and artificial elation. It is the Band-Aid I require. I kiss the feather, relaxing into the feel of the club again, and place it back into my pocket. I don't remember why I came. Was I meeting someone? A name sits on my lips but I can’t recall whose it is.
There was a reason but it’s gone the moment the music starts. Before I can spend too much thought on any of it, I’m smiling and waving my arms in the air as I dance.
The feather in my pocket momentarily becomes a beacon of pain. It forces me to come back around to the realization of why I am here. I need to tell Ari what I saw tonight. I will have to break her heart and tell her about Lucas and Ben and the girl. The dead girl had been with Lucas.
I let the song take me and fill me with the solitary joy of my exquisite agony. Pain has become pleasure and pleasure has become necessary. I contemplate not telling her. Honestly, what pillar of virtue am I? I’m in love with her dead father.
But in the end, I have to tell her.
I dance until the song I love is over and then walk out of the club while the party is still totally jumping. Better to end the night on a high since it’s about to get awkward.
“What did you do, Aimes? We would have shared, ya know.”
I glance back over my shoulder as I make my way out onto the sidewalk. Lucas follows me into the crowd, giving me a deadly look.
“You know what?” I snarl back at him, “I don’t like knowing your secrets, Luke. You’re putting me in an odd spot. I have to tell her that you were making out with some bimbo.”
“Huh?” He scowls back. “What odd spot?”
“With Ari. I’ll have to tell her about the girl. I can’t have a secret like that with her. If she finds out what you did and that I knew, she’ll hate us both.”
He snickers. “Dude, she already knows about the girl. She picked her out for me. We had a bet. I asked Ben to join me, not the other way around. Whatever. Anyway, who says it’s your business what I do?”
“What?” I don't want to know this.
“Stop being such a drag.” He shakes his head, nudging me when he catches up. “The humans are here for us. They’re fun. That’s all. Stop being so uptight. We do our job, Aimes. We kill the bad things. That’s all we are supposed to do. If we don’t get some down time, we will go all ‘Jack Nicholson’ from The Shining on everyone. Have some fun. You think Aleks, the patron saint of virtue, isn’t out there having fun, right now?” He winks and is gone before I can comment.
Clutching my feather, it dawns on me then that he sounds an awful lot like someone we once murdered. In fact, we all sound and act exactly like the fallen.
What the hell?
How is that possible?
I can’t help but wonder if he’s lost his mind or if Lillith has found a way to exploit what we are. Was that how the other fallen became so corrupt? Had they lost themselves in the fun to be had on Earth and forgotten their mission to save it? My memories of the others are meager. My memories of before are sparse. My mind feels like it’s become a bit of a wind tunnel, losing everything that passes through instead of retaining memories. All but my memories of one person. He fills my mind constantly. His image haunts my every waking moment. I wish he were here now so I could ask him. He wouldn't give me a straight answer. He’d make me work for it. I liked that about him. The game was always afoot.
I need to focus on the questions I would ask him. I need to know why we are so spacey and lost and fogged in. I need to grasp the few moments of clarity I have.
I need to know if we could all end up corrupted like the other fallen.
Images of the dead girl’s lips upon mine flash in my eyes. Have I also joined the dark side? If I recall correctly from my previous existence, there was always a promise of cookies on the dark side. Apparently, they were lying about the cookies, because all I have is anxiety and a sour taste in my mouth.
Oh dear G
od.
I have murdered people. I have let the detachment of it all overwhelm me. I am lost in it.
I killed an innocent and then went dancing, and I didn't regret it until this second. I know it’s wrong in my head, but my heart isn’t attached to the rest of me.
What if as angels we cannot commit sins? What if there is no possibility of us going to Heaven so earning our stripes like regular mortals isn’t an issue?
My heels click against the cold cement as I round the corner and head to the place I imagine he’s waiting for me. I need to know if he’s feeling lost too, right now while I remember I feel lost.
Aleks hates the clubs. He’s too old in his soul and doesn't get the whole loud music and grinding bodies thing. He’ll be at the house in the English countryside. He loves the peace of it all. It bothers me that I can’t remember the last time I saw him. I pocket my feather and round another corner so I can wink.
But as I pace through the alleyway, I stop dead. I sense something far more exciting than the English countryside. I love that I can still smell them. The others can’t. It’s a trait Dorian gave me that I have not lost. My wings twitch in my back, desperate to come out as my hands burn for the feeling of the feed. Also an old habit.
I should call for backup, it’s a rule. But I don't.
I cross the damp street to a red door with a window in it in the shape of a V. I raise an eyebrow at the bouncer with the barrel chest and folded arms. “Wow, subtle. Let me guess—you named your bar V for vessel because you are technically not a human?”
His scowl doesn't budge.
“V is for vacant because you have an empty fat head?”
His scowl grows more severe.
“I’m getting warmer, aren’t I?” I tap my fingertip against my upper lip. “V is for vacuous because you are a moron?”
He lunges at me. “Your kind isn’t welcome here.”
I smile sweetly, not moving from my spot, regardless of the fact his face is bearing down on mine. “That’s the fun thing about being my kind. I’m not welcome anywhere.”
He grabs at me but I spin with him in my hands and pull him through the door, pressing my lips to his. My wings burst, always at the wrong moment. If I were a teenaged boy, I would have an embarrassing situation.
The bar is packed but the music stops as I step over the dead bouncer and walk out onto the now motionless dance floor. They make room for me, no doubt frightened by the huge black wings sticking out of my back.
There are two kinds of angels in this world: the fallen who are fun to party with and always have a good time, and then there are the ones like me who are less fun to party with. Unless you’re a human being we can corrupt and abuse, then we seem cool with it all.
One of the bigger guys comes at me, rushing me from across the dance floor. His face is twisted in rage, making everyone else in the bar nervous. I smile wide, readying myself for the release I so desperately need.
He grabs at me, trying to squeeze but my eyes draw him in. I lower my lips while he spins me as if we are dancing under the flashing lights. I suck his dirty and tainted soul within seconds, letting him drop to the ground as I whirl around and hold my hands out at the patrons of the fine establishment. “Who’s next?”
Half an hour later I stride out of the silent bar with the weight of the world gone from my shoulders. Blood drips from my fingers but the smile upon my lips makes all the bad feelings go away.
Chapter 2
True love
I wink into the doorway, stopping short. Giselle is holding Shakespeare and rubbing his neck fur. She makes me nervous around animals. Her blood lust never really left her. But she smiles, clearly clueless to the hesitant look on my face. “Hey! Where have you been?”
I shrug. “Killing shit.”
Shakespeare meows at me. I wonder if she makes him nervous too.
Blake comes strolling in, wearing one of his Darwin tee shirts. He plucks the cat from her thin arms and smells his neck fur. “I love how outdoor cats smell.”
His cat Chuck is still at his parents’ house, along with everything else. He sneaks over there to play on his computer. He hands me my cat and leans against the counter of Shane’s house—our house. “So I spoke to Lorelei this morning. She says she doesn't know if Henry is leaving the Garden of Eden any time soon so she can’t see him helping us with Lillith in any way.”
It feels weird to be talking about Lillith. “Great. Has anyone had a slight glimpse of Lillith?”
He shakes his head. Lately, he is the only one who cares that the world is slowly ending. “No, but the plague in Europe is the real deal. One of the predictions in Revelation.”
Blake saying those words brings a smile to my face. “Never imagined Darwin would be challenged on his evolutionary theory this late in the game, did you?”
“No.” He scoffs. “I never imagined even for a second that all the religious mumbo-jumbo was true. And yet, here we are, angels of doom.”
“Yeah, me either.”
Giselle shrugs. “I sort of always did. I mean, there has to be a God. Evolution did not make this.” She holds her hands out, pointing at her body.
Blake nods. “She has a point.”
“You’re both morons.” I give her a weak attempt at a smile. “You seen Alise lately?”
She twirls her hair. “Yup. We went to the show last time I saw her.”
“When was that?”
Her stunning face twists into a ‘thinking face’ but she sits there, not finding whatever she is rifling her brain for. “I don't know. It was that movie where the aliens were the people and Tom Cruise was all hot.”
Blake winces. “That was last year and he’s in his fifties.”
Her jaw drops. “No way. He’s like thirty tops. He’s so hot.” She pauses. “Wait—what? It wasn't last year.” I can tell she still isn’t finding her memories. “I swear it was like a week ago.”
Blake pulls his cell phone out and shows her the release date and the picture Giselle posted on Instagram. It was the last one she posted. It truly was a year ago.
Giselle swallows hard. “How come I don't remember it being so far away? And why haven’t I posted anything else?”
“We’ve all been this way, forgetting things and people. Time is flying by. Africa is pretty much devoid of human life. Literally everything has been blown up. I didn't even know.” Blake licks his lips. “Everything is falling apart and I have a horrible feeling we are too. I went to see Lorelei about it all. That's how I know about the plague and shit.”
“Oh well. At least we can’t die.” Giselle shrugs and saunters off, taking out her cell phone. I roll my eyes as she takes a selfie. She’s more upset she’s let her Instagram account lapse than anything else.
A frown builds on my face, matching Blake’s. “How long ago were we in the desert killing blood baggers?”
“As far as I can tell, we do it every night. I swear we reset and start the same day over again. Wait—” He wrinkles his brow and closes his eyes, pressing them shut. I can see the wheels spinning in his head. “I saw Alise today. It’s been two years and three months since we became this.” He glances at his cell phone. His eyes widen. “It’s been five months since we talked about this last time.”
I lose it. “I don't think I can do this, Blake. I can’t let time fly by like this. It means nothing. All of it. I can’t focus my brain. My thoughts are scattered and my head is a mess. I can’t prioritize. I can’t do anything but kill. My body only remembers its Roses Academy training as though it’s on autopilot, and I’m stuck doing that same mission every night. Why did she make us this way? We are useless. Not a single one of us has the strength to be like her and Dorian. We are all weak like the other fallen. That's why we aren’t even trying to help people. We’re treating them like they’re lesser, the same way the fallen did.”
Blake folds his arms. “Aimes, we are way worse than the fallen. They at least had an evil plan. We don't ever see each other. No one rememb
ers who they are or why they love the people they do. It’s all about instant gratification.” His eyes falter and the bad news he wants to tell me drifts across his face like clouds moving over the sky. “We are disloyal to each other.”
“Just say whatever it is you want to say.” I hate it when he hints at shit.
He bites his lip as he peers down at his cell phone. He taps and drags his fingers and then pockets the phone. Mine vibrates. I pull it out to find a picture sent from him, but when I lift my face he doesn't meet my questioning stare.
I wait for him to say something, but he wants me to see for myself. I wink to the yard of Aleks’ old English house. I don't know the last time I was here. I can’t recall.
But I can tell by the smoke coming from the chimney, he’s here. I cross the yard to the house, not knocking. I open the door, smelling something freshly baked. It has a spicy smell to it, like cinnamon and nutmeg. It smells divine.
I walk past the kitchen and the living room. There is no one on the main floor, but there are noises upstairs.
I turn and climb the stairs slowly, not sure I want to know what’s going on up there, but certain I can guess.
I don't remember the last time I saw him. We were eating, not out of need but out of the desire to eat food. It was a pasta place in Italy. It was summer. With every step I take, a memory finds its way into my head.
There is a bad feeling in my gut when I tiptoe across the hallway. I could wink to every place in this house. I know it better than my own. But I don't. I walk like a regular girl, about to crash a party in her boyfriend’s bedroom. A party she was never invited to.
But he isn’t my boyfriend. He hasn’t been in this life, I don't think.
My hand lifts to the door, shaking a bit. What I find inside the room is insane. It isn’t what I expect. It’s so much worse and so is the emptiness in my chest when I see it.
It’s not his smile—the one I always loved—that bothers me. Or the way he laughs and tucks a lock of red hair behind her ear. She’s wearing his cream-colored sweater I adore.