Queen of the Immortals

by T. R. Hamby

  Nora stared at him. “Oh, I didn’t tell you--yeah, I have a boyfriend. It’s kind of an open relationship, though. It’s just that--”

  “I thought maybe….maybe we….we could….”

  And he trailed off lamely, looking troubled.

  Nora stared at him, horrified. She sat up slowly. “Roone….all we did was sleep together,” she said gently. “It wasn’t a date….you know? It was just a hookup.”

  He studied his hands. His jaw was tense, his expression dark. He cleared his throat, and then eased past her, getting off the couch.

  “Roone….” Nora sighed.

  “It’s fine. I should go,” he said, not looking at her.

  He began to dress. Nora sat watching him, feeling both guilty and extremely stupid. If she had known Roone would react this way, she wouldn’t have slept with him.

  Once he was dressed he looked around, as if trying to find something to say. He couldn’t, and he cleared his throat again.

  “There’s--um--another couple hours’ time up here,” he said, still avoiding her eyes. “If you want to stay.”

  “Roone.”

  He paused, and finally looked at her. He looked hurt, very hurt, and Nora’s heart ached.

  “I’m sorry,” she said gently. “I didn’t know.”

  He looked away. He shrugged, then left, going down the spiral staircase to the coffee shop below.

  Nora wasn’t sure what to do at first, but she eventually got dressed and left the shop too.

  She couldn’t focus on shopping, so she took a cab back to Westminster. There was a garage that Michael was using to fix up old cars, and she knew Mel was there with him now.

  She let herself in, and a confused Michael and Mel looked up from a rusty old Jaguar.

  “Hey, love,” Mel greeted worriedly. “What are you doing here? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” Nora said, though she couldn’t hide the pensiveness in her voice. “Can I talk to you?”

  Mel frowned. But he wiped his hands on a towel, and followed her outside.

  “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

  “No, you’re fine,” Nora said, rubbing at her temples.

  She sighed. “I think I did something wrong. And I don’t think you’ll like it.”

  He studied her for a long moment. Then he took a deep breath. “Okay. Hit me with it.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at his words. But she became serious again, guilty, and she murmured, “I slept with Roone.”

  At first he didn’t react. Then his face changed into a look she couldn’t decipher. He folded his arms, looked away. Nora was so anxious she began to shake.

  He sighed a little. “He’s definitely not my first choice, Nora. I still don’t trust him,” he said gravely. “But it’s your decision, not mine. And if you felt comfortable….”

  “I did.”

  “Well, then….that’s that.”

  Nora wasn’t soothed. “Do you hate me?”

  Mel’s face softened. “Of course I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”

  “I was stupid to do it.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  Nora sighed, and told him about Roone’s reaction when he had learned it had only been sex, and would end there.

  Now Mel’s face darkened. “I see.”

  “I still don’t think he’s dangerous or anything. I just….feel bad. I knew he was naive, but I didn't think it was that bad.”

  Mel took her hand and kissed her cheek. “He’ll get over it. It’s not your fault.”

  “I should have….like….clarified, maybe.”

  “No,” Mel replied firmly. “He should have known better. In fact, I wonder if he knew exactly what he was doing. Trying to seduce you to get a date.”

  “That’s dumb. Just ask me out; how hard is that?”

  Mel smiled, amused. He looked thoughtful, squeezing her hand. “Odd that an Angel would want a date. I guess he thought that was the best way to ask you to be his mate.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Michael and I are almost done. Do you want to go out? There’s that Greek place we haven’t visited yet.”

  Nora agreed, and she spent the next hour sitting and watching Michael and Mel work. They were talking freely, even laughing, and it meant so much. Michael caught her eye and winked, and she grinned, happy to see him joking around.

  It was good. All of this was good.

  And she hoped it would last.

  Michael

  Michael.

  Michael frowned, shifting in bed. Gilla stirred beside him, and slipped an arm around his waist.

  Michael.

  He suddenly felt heavy, as if he was sinking into the mattress. He opened his eyes; everything was blurred. But he was still lucid; he could feel Gilla breathing behind him.

  Michael, the voice said again, and Michael realized it was Father’s. Can you hear me? Speak to me.

  He tried lifting his head, but it was too heavy. This was very strange. He had never felt this sensation when Father had spoken to him before.

  He couldn’t speak, so instead he thought, I feel strange.

  He felt a faint sense of anger. I cannot reach you like I once could. They are preventing it.

  They. The other god. Father must have found out.

  Speak to me, my son.

  There was some gentleness there.

  You can’t hear me? Michael asked.

  Your thoughts are scattered. I can’t make them out, unless you direct them to me.

  Now there was bitterness.

  I know about the Being called Them, Father continued. I knew when they revived your friend. Do not trust Them. They defied me.

  Who are They?

  A pause. Then, I don’t know. Not yet.

  Michael frowned again. He was almost disturbed. Father didn’t know something. How was that possible?

  If They speak to you--if They do anything else--you must tell me, Father said firmly. Do you understand? They are not your friend. They are not your Creator. That has always been me.

  Michael nodded vaguely. Yes.

  I have been searching for this Being for some time, ever since I saw your friend’s revival. They have been well-hidden. But as soon as you tell me they’ve reached out to you, then I will be able to follow them.

  There was a pause. Michael didn’t know what to think.

  I will be….speaking to you more, my son, Father continued. I am having trouble seeing you. All of you. So I must speak to you instead. Should you need me.

  Michael took that to mean he couldn’t watch them, and his heart raced.

  The heaviness lifted, and after some time the blurriness did, too. Michael frowned--there was light beginning to filter through the curtains. He glanced at his phone. Seven in the morning.

  He sat up. Had that been a dream? No, Michael didn’t dream like that. It was real….Father knew about Them, and now he was having trouble communicating with him, with watching all of them. It was almost as if he was losing his power.

  What the hell was going on?

  He carefully got out of bed, threw some sweats on and went downstairs to make Gilla her morning coffee. All the while his mind raced with questions. Why couldn’t Father speak to him properly anymore? Why couldn’t Father see them clearly?

  He took the coffee back upstairs and carefully set it on the nightstand. Gilla was already stirring, throwing the pillow over her head, and Michael smiled. She had recovered well from her fight with Palmer. Emily Stanton seemed to be on the mend as well, giving a TV interview thanking everyone who had searched for her. She didn’t mention Gilla or Michael, and he wondered if she even remembered them.

  He got back into bed and slipped his arms around Gilla. She stirred again, sighing, and turned, burying her head in his chest.

  Michael chuckled, brushed his fingers through her hair. “Morning.”

  Gilla sighed again, and he grinned. Then she sat up, rubbing at her eyes, and took the coffee from the end table an
d sipped.

  He couldn't wait. “Father spoke to me.”

  She looked at him, tensing. She balanced her cup in her lap, something she had done before, with disastrous consequences.

  What did he say? She signed.

  “It was strange. He couldn’t reach me well. It was almost like….a bad connection.”

  Gilla frowned, and he could tell she was worried. That’s not good. Is it?

  He shrugged, shaking his head. “No idea. It’s never happened before.”

  What did he say?

  “He said he knows about Them,” he replied, “and….he wants us to spy on Them, essentially. Tell him if something happens with Them.”

  Gilla nodded gravely. He’s angry.

  Michael was frowning. He wasn’t sure what to feel….fear, anger. Triumph.

  “I think he’s scared,” he finally said, knowing full well Father couldn’t hear him anymore.

  Gilla looked amazed, and Michael was too. The idea of Father being afraid was a foreign one.

  Wait until Mel hears, she said, and Michael couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  If this….Being is able to prevent God from seeing us, then doesn’t that mean They’re more powerful than him? She asked, her brow furrowed.

  Michael swore under his breath, shaking his head. “I don’t know.”

  What if he hurts us?

  He stared at her, concerned. “You’re more worried about him than Them?”

  She shrugged, and then nodded, cautiously. All They’ve done is good so far, she signed. Look what he’s done to us.

  Michael couldn’t argue. He still didn’t trust whoever Them was, but Gilla had a point; They had only done good so far.

  They went down to the kitchen to make breakfast. Michael looked out the window and smiled; Barry in his eagle form was digging into the fresh remains of a fat squirrel.

  He transformed back into a human when he was done, and let himself in to help. He still didn’t like the taste of human food anymore, but liked to cook with them anyway. Gilla plucked a feather out of his hair, and he tucked it behind his ear, making her giggle silently.

  Everyone soon arrived downstairs, and they sat in the dining room to eat.

  After some time Gilla looked at Michael, silently asking him when he was going to deliver the news. No one was really talking; they all seemed to be drowsy this morning. It would probably be a lazy day.

  Michael finally cleared his throat, and everyone looked up. Mel was sitting opposite him, and already looked tense.

  “Oh god,” Nora sighed, and Barry chuckled nervously.

  “It’s not that bad,” Michael said, although his voice betrayed him, and she raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

  “Go on,” Mel said quietly, folding his arms.

  Michael sighed. “Father….spoke to me,” he said slowly. “Or, he tried to. He’s having trouble.”

  There was a silence.

  Mel looked at him as if he had three heads. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s hard to explain. But it’s like a bad phone line. He’s having trouble hearing me….and now he can’t watch us anymore. He can’t see us.”

  They took this in, stunned.

  “So you’re saying,” Nora breathed, “that God….the God….isn’t omniscient anymore?”

  He hesitated; he hadn’t thought of it that way. He shrugged.

  “Is it Them?” Barry asked.

  He was grave, his brow pulled into a frown.

  Michael nodded. “That’s what he said.”

  Gabriel swore under his breath, leaning back in his chair. “This is either great, or shit,” he said.

  “I don’t know,” Barry murmured. “They’ve only done good things so far. Maybe this is one of them.”

  “We don’t know what They can do,” Mel replied, scowling at the table. “We can’t trust Them.”

  “We can’t really trust God, either,” Nora said, and his head twitched.

  “Let’s leave it alone for now,” Michael said hurriedly; he didn’t want any arguing.

  But Mel wasn’t ready to let it drop. He helped Michael clear away the dishes, and together they went to the washbasin in the kitchen.

  “He didn’t say anything else?” he whispered as Michael began to soak the dishes.

  Michael looked over his shoulder, but there was no one else in the room. He wasn’t exactly concerned if anyone else knew; he just preferred they find out later. This was a lot to take in.

  He sighed. “He said we need to tell him if….or when They contact us,” he said quietly.

  “So he wants us to spy on Them,” Mel replied, his head twitching.

  Michael looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t happy with Them.”

  “I’m not. Doesn’t mean I’ve warmed to Father, either.”

  “I don’t think anyone warms to Father.”

  “Well, not me especially,” Mel breathed, and Michael felt a pang.

  But Mel moved on. “I don’t like it.”

  “There’s not much we can do about it now.”

  “Maybe it is an Angel,” he said, mostly to himself. “An ancient one.”

  “There’s none more ancient than us,” Michael reminded him.

  “We don’t know that for sure. What else could it be?”

  Michael thought, handing him a plate to dry. The water spilled over the dishes, little rivers running into the basin. He had always wondered how Father had gotten the idea to Create all of this.

  “Whatever They are,” he said, “it sounds like They’re just getting started. Like They’re new. Young. Still….stretching Their wings.”

  Mel considered this, rubbing a dishcloth over a fork. “If that’s true, then They must have weaknesses,” he said wisely.

  Just then Nora and Gilla appeared, dressed, with their purses hanging from their shoulders.

  “We’re getting stuff for Judy’s house,” Nora said, reaching on her tiptoes and kissing Mel’s cheek. “Love you.”

  “Love you, diletta.”

  Gilla beamed at Michael, and he smiled, so relieved to see her happy. He knew she still missed her voice dearly--still had nightmares about Bakker--but she was still content, and he couldn’t ask for more.

  “Be careful,” he said, kissing her.

  She winked at him, and he grinned. Nora kissed his cheek, and they went out the door.

  The two most precious women in the world.

  Roone

  Buon Amore. That was the first time he had seen her. It was a small opera, little known in the community, that had gotten great reviews. Roone had decided to see it, and there she was. Eleanora Rossi. The love of his life.

  He had never felt this way before. He had had mates--many mates--who he had obsessed over, who he had followed. But this was different. He didn’t know how to describe it--this passion, this warmth, this tenderness. He wanted to hear her voice, he wanted to hold her in his arms. He wanted to touch her, soothe her, protect her. He wanted a life with her, a lasting life, forever.

  So he followed her. It was easy; he had done it many times before, and it was even easier now that it was the twenty-first century. He watched her for some time, waiting patiently to make his move. He needed to know as much as he could about her before it happened.

  But then disaster struck. Melkira--the Melkira--showed up, and made her his mate.

  Roone had been incensed. Of all the humans in the world--of all the humans in Rome--Melkira had chosen Nora to be his mate.

  But no, it would pass. Angels didn’t mate for long. He would just have to be patient.

  But all that passed were the years. Roone watched, devastated, as Nora stayed tied to Melkira, as his brother Michael obtained his own mate, and as the four stayed together like some sort of coven.

  Roone had been hopeless. He had no way of being with Nora when she was clearly so enamored with Melkira. But he continued to watch her. Melkira was dangerous, ve
ry dangerous, and Roone knew he was using his charm to manipulate and control Nora. She wasn’t safe, and Roone had to be there the day she finally broke free of his grasp.

  Then the four disappeared, and he panicked. Images of Nora, dead somewhere, haunted his dreams. It took him a long time to find them in London. He abandoned his things and flew there straight away, got a house in South Bank.

  No. Things were going to change. Roone wasn’t going to let Nora get away from him again, not when she was so close to danger. He was going to save her.

  He had two plans, but he was sure the first would work on its own. He and Nora would meet, and she would fall for him, just as he had fallen for her. It had to happen--they were meant to be together. It had been ordained by Father himself.

  But the first meeting hadn’t gone as planned. Nora was suspicious of him, and Roone had been caught off guard. Nora had a Presence. Why? She wasn’t an Angel, and she certainly hadn’t had a Presence when he had first seen her.

  But it was a blunder, that was all. They had both been confused. The next time….

  He had gone to Nora’s house to warn her that they were being watched. And she had been angry with him, fiery. He loved her passion, loved her spirit. But she turned him out, and he was hurt.

  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

  Finally, one final meeting. He would apologize; and she would suddenly see. And it worked; they were flirting; she was blushing. She shed her clothes, let him touch her and kiss her. He had been inside her, and it was better than anything he had experienced. This was what it was like to be with his love, to have her in his arms.

  But it hadn’t worked after all. Nora was immediately thinking about Melkira, worrying about what he would say when he found out. She didn’t want to be with Roone. She had said no; she had turned him away….

  She was too far under Melkira’s spell. If he found out she was sleeping with Roone, he would hurt her, maybe even kill her. Roone had to do something. Nora needed to be rescued; she needed to be taken away. Once she was away from Melkira, she would be free, and she would realize just how much she loved Roone.

  It was only a matter of time.

  He would have to use his second plan.