by S. L. Naeole
The chair beside me was pulled out, and Stacy sat, her hands on the table now tracing the gouges that Lark’s fingernail had made earlier. “It’s been a really crappy year for all of us, I think. We’ve lost a lot: our ignorance, our innocence…our lives. I’m sorry about the whole suicide thing, Grace. I keep thinking that no one understands what I’ve gone through, but then I remember that you do. You know what’s in my head. You know what it’s like to feel death always there, right beside you like some kind of freaky shadow that won’t go away no matter how dark it is. And I’m not saying that because of Robert.”
“I know you’re not, Stacy. I only wish that you didn’t have to feel like that. That…that place that Sam had you in, locked up in your mind like some kind of bird in a crystal cage…that was my fault. Sam used you to hurt me, and I hate myself for that.”
“Don’t start blaming yourself for what that creep did,” Stacy said, her voice taking on a scathing note. “He’s the one who made me sick. He’s the one who put me into that coma and messed with my head. Everything that happened to me is his fault. Do you hear me, Grace? He did it all. He wanted to hurt you, and he didn’t care how he did it, and that’s all on him—not on you.”
I stared at my hands, studying their lines and bumps in an effort to ignore the denial in my head. If Stacy had not been my friend, if she had not been connected to me in some way, she might have never had to make the choice she did.
“Grace, can you…can you tell me what you saw? When you were inside my head, I mean. I can’t remember anything about what happened before I woke up in Dr. Bro’s house. I can’t remember what was in my head…it’s like everything before then is blank.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Stacy. Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember anything.”
If Stacy could have made the air around us turn as cold as her skin, she would have. “You think I won’t be able to handle it?”
“Stacy-”
“That’s it, isn’t it? You think that I won’t be able to deal with what I’ve seen. I’ve killed four people, Grace. I’ve seen the things that they’ve done to other people. What can you possibly tell me that’ll bother me? I just want to know. I want that hole filled.”
I couldn’t deny Stacy what it was she wanted, and she deserved to know. I understood what it felt like to have my mind filled with images that weren’t my own, memories that did not belong to me. It was the only reason I did not begin immediately. Instead I stood and filled an empty glass with water from the tap, my stomach queasy, my nerves frayed at the edges.
“Stacy, when I was in your head, I thought it would be like my own. I thought that it would be like some kind of bowl where everything just floated about and I’d be able to fish you out. Instead…instead your mind was one long, crazy hallway. Everything that I saw was meant to keep me from finding you.”
I sat back down in my chair and took a swig from the glass. The water tasted metallic. “There was a door behind me, a flower shaped door and it had a ribbon coming out where the doorknob should have been. On my left was a leaf shaped door. It was the first one that I opened. It was like walking into a slaughterhouse. There were dead birds everywhere, and feathers and blood. The wings were placed on a table—just the wings—and I saw on the wall a pair of black ones that had been nailed there.
“I couldn’t take it, so I left. I followed the doors, one after the other. A bird shaped one; a heart shaped one, then a moon, and then an apple. As I passed each one, I could hear your voice but I didn’t know where you were. The last door, the one that faced the other end of the hallway looked like an eye. It looked like Sam’s eye. I could hear you behind it; you sounded so frightened. I thought to open it, to find you standing behind it but… This is going to sound weird but when I saw that the handle was a carrot, I stopped.”
“A carrot?”
I nodded, the same perplexed disturbance on my forehead mimicking hers. “Right after my mom died, I used to have these dreams that the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland needed my help. He’d always invite me over for carrot cake just before I’d wake up. I stopped having the dream after, like a week or something, and I didn’t dream again until after…well, you know.
“But before you…died, I dreamt of the rabbit again, only this time the dream changed. The rabbit told me he didn’t like carrots, and I thought that was the strangest thing. But being inside of your head, it was like it made sense. Being in your mind was like falling into the rabbit hole. And here was that carrot, just begging me to grab it and turn it to get to you, but I knew that you wouldn’t be there. I knew it somehow.
“But you were still behind that door so I did the only other thing I could. I tried the center of the door, the pupil of the eye. I could enter it without a problem, but I realized that there was no way I’d be able to get back out so I grabbed the ribbon from the other end of the hall and thank God it just kept unraveling otherwise I don’t know what would’ve happened.
“I dived into that hole. It was probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but I did it, and when I opened my eyes I was with you. But…you weren’t you. You were scared, you weren’t like yourself; you looked like one big talking crystal. Everything you said was like hearing it spoken from underwater and then having it echo, and you didn’t want to leave, which scared me the most. You were afraid of coming with me and I told you that if you didn’t then I would stay with you.”
Stacy’s face, already pale on its own, seemed to do the impossible and fade even more. “You did not!”
I nodded. “I did. I wasn’t going to let you die like that, without your memories, without anyone with you. You’re one of my best friends, Stacy. I’d give my life for you!”
There are moments when physical emotion can be uncomfortable. It can be embarrassing and unnecessary, but this wasn’t one of them. When Stacy’s arms wrapped around me, I more than willingly wrapped my own around her. It didn’t matter to me that she was as cold as snow. It didn’t matter that hugging her was like embracing a lamppost.
“I always wanted a sister, you know,” Stacy sniffed in my ear. “I always wanted one but after five boys and me, my parents were done. When I finally introduced myself to you, I thought that maybe, just maybe we could become friends. I never thought that you’d be the answer to my prayers.”
I laughed and dashed away the tears that fell when I pulled away from her. “I never thought I’d ever be friends with anyone but Graham. I never thought about life after this to be honest with you. It’s like…it’s like I knew that whatever future I wanted, it wasn’t going to happen, and so when you and I became friends I didn’t want to question it, and I never have. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through any of this without you.”
We sat there, our heads bent towards each other like little girls deep in a secret conversation. That is how Lem found us, his entrance so quiet that even Stacy hadn’t heard it.
“So you have survived Isis’ attack without a single mark. I applaud you, Stacy,” he said with an eager smile.
“And why wouldn’t I have? Fighting with her was like sparring with my shadow: completely harmless.”
“Yes, but while you would have eventually tired, Isis would have been able to continue on. Had Lark not helped you, the likelihood that you would not have escaped with your life is very high.”
Stacy snorted and sneered at the insult. “I was tiring, but she was done. Lark was there only to keep me from destroying what was left of her. You angels are pretty fragile creatures, you know.”
Soft rumbling filled the small space of the kitchen as the insult tossed between the two supernatural creatures hit its mark. Lem looked ready to kill. Stacy looked ready to feed.
“Hey, Lem, how about we go outside to talk?” I broke in, standing up and grabbing his arm to pull him out through the kitchen door.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Stacy warned.
“I’ll be right outside, Stacy. I’ll stand right i
n front of the window so you can see me the entire time, alright?” I didn’t wait for an answer, merely maneuvered myself so that I could see plainly the disappointment in her face through the thin pane of glass.
“She is not happy with you right now.” Lem seemed pleased with his observation.
“She’s not happy with you right now. You have really bad timing, Lem, you know that?”
He turned away from me to gaze up into the night sky, the faint trace of light from the street barely grazing over the roof to turn the black dull orange. “I think that I have perfect timing.”
“Of course you would. You’re here and Robert’s not.”
“Exactly,” he smiled.
“So why are you here?”
“Word has spread. Raphael has been to see you.”
Lark’s words repeated themselves in my head and my shoulders drooped. “Trouble’s starting already, isn’t it?”
He nodded solemnly, but a smile still lingered beneath his darkened expression. “The support that has been given to you cannot be ignored now. Even with your death so imminent, it still remains a point of contention for my kind to know that someone who many believe should not even exist can wield such influence over those who have the power to crush you.”
“I didn’t ask for any of it,” I reminded him.
“I know. I know that you haven’t, Grace. You didn’t ask for any of this to occur. There is a good chance that none of this would have happened had Ameila kept her family away.”
I bit back a strangled retort, unwilling to let him see the hurt I felt. Hadn’t Robert said pretty much the same thing? Instead I let out a cynical laugh, half-swallowed, half-forced. “Yeah, well, you and I both know that my number would have been up regardless.”
Lem gave me a speculative glance, his eyes missing nothing. “This isn’t the first time you’ve heard that said, is it? Someone else said the same thing to you already. Who? Lark? Ameila?”
“Is this why you came, Lem? To interrogate me? I have to go back inside before Stacy’s patience wears out.”
I turned to head towards the kitchen door but his firm grasp on my arm stilled my feet. “It was N’Uriel, wasn’t it?”
“He’s right. If he and I had never met, none of this would’ve happened. Janice wouldn’t be some vegetable right now. Erica, Mr. Branke…maybe even Mr. Frey would all be alive. And if Mr. Frey was still alive then Mrs. Deovolente would be, too.”
“Yes, but then you wouldn’t be.”
I shrugged. “Would it matter?”
Lem’s hand on my arm squeezed roughly, and I flinched as his voice took on an angry tone. “Of course it would matter! This is not the life your mother wanted for you. On the run, hiding, always looking over your shoulder—you should not have to live this way.”
“She is the very reason I live this way,” I told him icily. “If I had never been born, I’d never have known what it meant to lose not only her, but my memory of her as a person I admired and looked up to.
“I thought my mother was special. I thought she was perfect, but I was wrong, and nothing can compare to having your dreams torn to shreds. Everything I knew about her was a lie, and that lie has cost not only her life, but the lives of others who were innocent.”
“You cannot hate her for bringing you into this world, Grace.”
“Yes I can! I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t know what it felt like to be responsible for breaking my father’s heart. I wouldn’t know what it felt like to have to force someone to do something they don’t’ want to do. I wouldn’t know what it felt like to lose the people I care about. I wouldn’t be here to experience any of those things. She gave me life, but she also condemned me to death. She condemned all of her children to death.”
That last line was uttered with a shuddering breath, and I felt my knees buckle, my emotions too heavy now to contain standing up. I sank to the ground and pounded my fists into the soft grass beneath me.
“I don’t like to think about Sam as my brother. What he and his partner did to me, what they did to Erica and Mr. Branke…I cannot forgive him or anyone for that. But no matter how much I hate Sam, no matter how much I wished him dead for what he did, it doesn’t compare to the fact that our own mother planned out our deaths…even the one she carried inside her…”
My voice wavered and my hands wrapped around my abdomen in sorrow. “Everyone keeps telling me about how wonderful she was, but how wonderful could she have been, knowing that each of her children was going to die because of something she did? You’re supposed to love your child, protect them from harm at all costs. You’re supposed to do everything in your power to keep them safe. She threw all of us to the wolves.”
Lem squatted in front of me, his eyes wide with emotion. “She was wonderful. She had no choice in that, Grace. She might have lost her immortality, but she was still an angel with no freedom to choose her own path.”
I swatted his hand away when he reached for my face. “That’s a lie. She chose to be with my father even though she knew it was wrong.”
“How do you know that being with your father was a choice, Grace? How do you know that that was not her path? Because she loved him?”
My mouth opened, and remained so as I tried to come up with some kind of rebuttal, but all I managed to do was cause my lips to crack in the still air. The truth was, I didn’t know.
“As much as you like to think you can see what’s really going on, Grace, the truth is you can’t. You may be the daughter of an angel, but you do not possess the ability to understand what it means to be one. You take for granted your own ability to choose, and so believe that when the actions do not satisfy you that it was a choice that led to that result. But for us, it is not that simple.
“Avi’s life was always meant to end as it did. She loved your father, but that was a blessing bestowed upon her, Grace. Had she hated your father, loathed him, she still would have married him. She still would have conceived you, and she still would have died because that was her destiny. She had no choice in the matter.”
I didn’t want to believe it. He wasn’t going to take the guilt away from my mother. She still could have chosen something else.
“No she couldn’t,” Lem argued, my emotions allowing my thoughts to slip through. “She couldn’t have chosen to go against her path without dying and accomplishing nothing. She was shackled to her destiny; she had no choice in anything. You should be glad that at the very least, she loved you and your father.”
A guttural, almost vulgar sound escaped me and I glared at Lem, his silver and gold eyes soft in their hope that I’d understand; that I’d accept what he was telling me.
Fat chance.
“She didn’t love us. She knew all of this was going to happen, she knew what this was going to do to my dad and she didn’t care. She knew what this was going to do to me and she didn’t care. A mother who loves her child doesn’t intentionally cause them pain. She doesn’t give them the moon and then snatch it away. Only someone who hates you does that, Lem. Only someone who wishes you were never born would do something like that.”
I stood up, and watched as Lem’s face fell, his emotions plain. “You loved my mom, but she didn’t love you. She didn’t love you, she didn’t love my dad, she didn’t love Sam and she didn’t love me. You were played, just like we all were, and just like my dad, you’ll defend her because you loved her. Well I don’t and I can’t. I wasn’t brought up to think of you guys as above the consequences; my dad knew better than that.”
“I’ve upset you.”
“No. You haven’t. You’ve enlightened me.”
“How so?”
I looked him up and down and lifted a shoulder carelessly. “By admitting that my mother had no choice, and that everything she did she did because she had to, including be with my dad; it proves to me that you being here has nothing to do with me and everything to do with her.”
Something that resembled recognition crossed over his face, and he stood up.
“You’re jealous.”
“What? I am not!” My eyes rolled at his accusation, but my cheeks flared with embarrassed heat.
“You are.” He smiled with satisfaction and touched the redness on my face.
I flinched, but he was faster than I was. His hands were on my face, holding me still, and his mouth was on mine in a way that Robert’s had never been. I struggled beneath him but there was no use. He wasn’t going to let me go. The way his fingers dug into my skin, and the way I could feel the slight tremble in them told me that this was the completion of something he’d been wanting for a long time.
And I realized that it was something that I wanted, too.
But not with him.
“Get your hands off of my wife!”
My face was released swiftly, the blood that returned to my skin reminding me of what had caused this and again, I felt flush. Lem had moved away, a distance of several meters between us while Robert stood off to the side, the third point in this dangerous triangle.
“N’Uriel…”
Robert raised a hand to silence Lem, and Lem quieted. “You are never, ever to come near Grace again. I should have made this clear from the beginning, but I always assumed you’d respect Grace’s feelings. She does not want you, Lem. She’s made that point clear to you once already.”
“She’s human—they’re fickle with their wants,” Lem replied casually.
“She’s always been firm on who it was she wants, Llehmai. She has never once deviated from that. Your attempts to seduce her into thinking otherwise have failed. You will not get another chance.” Robert’s voice was low, calm, but the threat that had not been uttered still hung in the air, heavy and harsh.
“So be it. I was beginning to tire of these games anyway. I do suggest that you learn to be more aggressive in your lovemaking, N’Uriel—she’s as stiff and as prudish as a nun, and not the kind I like.” Lem was gone before I’d even heard his last word, and I fumed that I had not been able to tell him off.