by S. L. Naeole
It stopped abruptly in front of her, her father rushing out to her and picking her up, apologies slipping out of his mouth as he hugged her to his chest. “I’m late, I’m sorry. I tried to get Ivy to pick you up but she said she had to take Graham to the dentist. Are you okay? What happened to your dress?”
“I fell,” the little girl lied through a slight pinching of her face.
“You fell? From what, a moving jungle gym? Kiddo, tell me what happened.”
“Nothing, Dad. I fell down, that’s all. Can we go home now?”
“Yeah, I’m sorry kiddo. Come on. Hey, how about hamburgers for dinner?”
“Sounds good.”
Lem watched the two climb into the car and drive away, choosing not to follow them and instead walking towards lightening spot on the concrete. He bent down and ran his finger across the moisture, smiling when the only grit he felt came from the concrete itself.
Soon. It’ll come soon.
***
Erica Hamilton looked uncomfortable, almost insecure. “I don’t know why I feel so nervous around you.”
“I don’t either. If you want, I can take you back home.”
“No, no I want to be here with you. It’s just…the first time we went out, you seemed so cold and distant. And now, it’s like you’re a completely different person. Was it me? Did I do something weird that day?”
Lem looked up at his surroundings. They were in a restaurant, something small and cozy, with framed mirrors of different sizes and shapes lining the walls. He could smell every dish, every perfume, every shampoo. He caught his reflection in an oval mirror across the room and sighed.
He knew what he looked like. He also knew that everyone sitting around him was seeing someone else. How easy it was, he thought, to fool them into believing he was someone else. Their minds were so simple to trick, their desires so easy to please.
His gaze returned to Erica’s. “I think I was just nervous. You are so beautiful and it’s hard to really be myself around you.”
Erica’s laugh sounded so sweet, so innocent that I doubted it was hers. “I’m beautiful? You’re like this god or something. Every girl, every woman in this place is looking at you and wishing they were me. They wish they were sitting here right now, with you looking at me the way you are.”
Lem laughed, an easygoing laugh that would have made anyone feel special. I knew that laugh; I knew I was right. But Lem’s thoughts betrayed what he said to her. He downplayed his effect, but he knew she was right, if only partially. Most of the women did wish they were sitting in her seat, but they didn’t want to be her. They wanted to be themselves with him admiring them.
They weren’t deluded enough to want to be that age again, when nothing seemed important until it was too late. They had the confidence that Erica lacked, a confidence that she envied. Erica knew she was beautiful, but even more so, she knew that it wasn’t enough.
“I don’t know what I did to find someone like you, but whatever it was, I’ll do it again,” Erica sighed.
***
Lem was staring into eyes that looked almost maniacal. The face they were settled in was frozen in a laugh that made even Lem’s skin crawl.
“Why are you trying to hurt Grace, Isis?”
The angel cackled. “Why do you care? She’s nothing; she’s less than nothing. Insignificant little speck of human waste to be burned from world.”
Lem looked down and his hand came into view. It was wrapped around Isis’ throat. He laughed and let go. “If she were so insignificant, you wouldn’t be trying to kill her.”
“Samael told me what she means to you. Do you think I don’t see how much you want her?” Isis sneered. “You’re lusting after the daughter because you couldn’t have the mother; do you realize how pathetic that is? Especially for an angel?”
“You don’t know what I want from her. You only know what Sam’s told you, and his mind was too clouded with rage to know anything but his own delusion-filled call. Why are you trying to hurt her.”
“As if I would tell you.”
“You know I know how to find out.”
Isis raised her right hand and wiggled her fingers in Lem’s face. “The truth is never the truth until all the lies have been removed.”
Lem grunted as a hard and heavy kick landed in his chest, Isis pulling her legs up between them, tucking her head down to roll away from him. Lem’s vision flashed with the ceiling of a white room. He crashed into a large object before rising to his feet and glaring at the pixie-like angel who smiled at him from her perch atop a bed.
My bed.
“You know they will kill you, right? Her friends are loyal and N’Uriel will do everything in his power to keep her safe. He has more power than you and I combined and he will use that power to destroy you until you’re not even a memory.”
Isis laughed. “You and I both know that his power is only temporary. His existence is as much a mistake as hers is. When they are both gone, we will have control of the world again.”
“You’re an imbecile if you think that will happen. We only had one second chance after what the Grigori did; throwing off the balance of this world will sentence all of us to death. All of us; not just the humans.”
“And you believe this? How many times have we been told that story? How many of us were even there? You weren’t. I wasn’t. The way I see it, thousands of years of fear has done nothing but keep us from fulfilling our true roles.
“I can make a human mind explode into chaos with a single thought. I can make the most beloved of mothers turn against her children, like a monster from someone’s nightmare. But I can’t even blink insanity into someone’s mind without permission so long as they exist. Once N’Uriel and his whore are gone, I’ll be a god.”
“You will leave Grace alone, Isis. I don’t care about what you do to N’Uriel. I don’t care about anything but keeping Grace safe.”
“Well then maybe you should have stopped us before N’Uriel killed Sam because there’s nothing that can be done for her now. She’s going to die, Llehmai. The dark ones are coming for her. They’re bringing their children with them and they’re going to kill her. She’s going to die and she’ll do it knowing the truth about you.”
“What truth?”
“That you did nothing to save her mother’s life. You watched Samael kill her. You watched your son kill his mother and you let her daughter see it. She will know what you did, and she will never forgive you. You might be content to settle for her friendship like you did with Avi, but after this, you won’t even have that. She will hate you. She will hate you with her very last dying breath and you will live just long enough to hear them.”
Isis’ laugh was cold and critical. She faded into a white mist that drifted out of the window like smoke. Lem watched it, saying nothing, hearing only the beating of the heart within his chest, the only real tie he had to the humanity that my mother gave up everything for.
I promised to look after her. I promised to keep her safe from Samael until it was time. I promised to love her. I did everything that you asked, Avi. I just didn’t think that the potential of losing her would hurt more than losing you did. And you knew it, too. You knew it would and you still let me make that promise.
He roared, the sound rattling the walls and the window, my mirror cracking from the sound of it. Through his eyes, everything looked red. The white walls now looked like they were covered in blood. Everything was tainted with crimson and rage.
Lem turned, seeing the split reflection of himself in the cracked mirror. Each sliver of his face showed a different side of him. The cold side that had been able to stand by and watch as the angel he loved died on an empty road eleven years ago contrasted with the warm side that made it so easy to love those he couldn’t have.
His eyes flicked down to the ground where they spied something I’d missed: a photo. Or, what’s left of a photo. Two faces joined together like one, but only their eyes could be seen. Lem’s eyes saw more in
those eyes than anyone human could. While he was sure that the missing pieces contained smiles, the message hidden in the eyes was clear: happiness didn’t live here.
Our son was right; you were selfish and Grace will end up paying the price for that. I forgave you for not loving me. I forgave you for loving a human. I even forgave you for dying. But I won’t forgive you for this.
***
He was looking at me; looking at my face, pinched in distress as I railed against him in the dark. The smell of earth and moisture couldn’t drown out the scent of my hair, he noted. He held his hand out to me, his fingers flexing just to the point of impossibility before he drew them back into a fist.
I’d give everything up for you to trust me. I know you won’t love me. I know you probably feel nothing but hate for me now. But…
He looked away, his gut filled with emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time. It embarrassed him, the disappointment that bubbled with the simple joy inside of him. As much as he had criticized Samael for being a failure, he was every bit as much a failure as his son.
Samael failed because he couldn’t trust anyone.
And neither did he. Even now, he couldn’t trust the sleeping girl just feet away from him. She was as much a threat to him as she was to his son, despite her weakness and her innocence.
But she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared, he noted.
She’d hurt them. She had brought down an archangel of death and she’d done that without knowing what she was or who she was meant to be. If she could do that as a human, what could she do when she reached her full potential?
Isis’ words came back to haunt him. When Grace learned the truth, she would hate him, and Isis knew that it would kill him. His feelings for her went too deep, too far.
I don’t know what to do, Avi. I don’t know what to do. I’ve never known what to do before and it’s killing me.
He brought his hand to his face, his glow glinting off the silver ring around his finger. Distorted and dull, he could see his face, see the doubt, see the distrust. He was glad that the darkness prevented me from seeing his face, because he didn’t want to see it himself.
Finally I said something that made him approach me. He took my hand and despite my complaints, forced the silver circle into my palm. Every word that came out from him, from me, seemed meaningless the moment he’d let go of the one thing that kept who he was a secret from everyone else.
I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I’ve just handed your daughter my life, Avi. It’s every important moment, every dark second, every feeling of wanting… I’m giving her control and it terrifies me. I’ve never been terrified before. Please don’t let me have made a mistake.
He watched me throw his ring and I could hear his heart shudder to a stop.
Please.
THE SEATS
The quiet in the room was the first thing I noticed the moment I let go. It was as if sound had died along with the belief that Lem had been Sam’s partner. Losing that one piece of information felt like I’d lost a lifetime of knowledge. How could I have been so sure and yet so wrong?
“It might not be wrong,” Robert said in a hushed tone. “You might still be right.”
“But I’m not.
Truth can come on slowly like a cold, or it can slam you into you like being hit by a car. I knew what that felt like; that’s what this felt like.
“So what? Lem’s not the guy who screwed with my head?” Stacy asked angrily. “What kind of crap game is this, huh? Why would someone put all those things in my head and make us believe it was him?”
Dad’s head jerked to Stacy’s voice, his jaw falling open in shock. “You’re alive…”
Stacy looked at Dad and somehow managed to grow even paler. “Uh…hi, Mr. Shelley.”
Dad’s brows crimped into furrows over his eyes as he touched Stacy’s arm, unsure if she was real or not. “How are you alive?”
“You don’t really want to know the answer to that question, Mr. Shelley,” Stacy said quietly.
“You’re probably right. There’s a lot I don’t want to know right now.”
Stacy nodded and then returned her attention to me. “So what? Why did this happen? Why make us believe that Lem’s the guy who was screwing around with us? Why make us think that he was trying to kill you?”
“Because we’d believe it,” I answered quietly. “Whoever did it knew that we’d believe it. We wanted to find out who did it so badly, and it made sense.”
“Yes, but if they wanted us to believe that it was Llehmai who did it, then why does Isis’ ring show that she was Sam’s partner?” Lark held a ring between her thumb and index finger. “This isn’t Isis’ ring.”
I nodded and then turned to look at Dad. “You remember the ring you stole from the cops, Dad? When they came to Robert’s house after what happened to Mrs. Deovolente?”
Dad nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”
“We need it. Where is it?”
“It’s back at the house. I put it in the first aid kit.”
I looked at Graham and Lark. “You remember where the kit is, right?”
Graham nodded, and Lark disappeared.
“If the ring that Isis had on her wasn’t real, then maybe Lem’s ring isn’t real either,” Stacy said hopefully.
Llehmai’s ring is his. I’m the one who gave it to him.
Ameila’s thoughts were meant for Stacy, but I heard them, and I didn’t hide that fact. “You gave him that ring?”
Llehmai had no family. He was one of the last to be created, not born, and so there was no one to ascend with him. I chose to go because I could. I was given the ring to give to him. I engraved the ring with its inscription.
I looked down and removed the ring from Janice’s finger and held it up to the light, seeing the engraved words sparkling in the fluorescence. Dum spiramus tuebimur.
“What does it mean?”
“While we breathe, we shall defend,” Robert answered.
“So maybe he faked it,” Stacy argued. “I mean, I can buy a twenty dollar ring at Juno’s and have it engraved for five bucks.”
The ring remembers me holding it. No one can fake that. It cannot fake a memory of me holding it without me knowing.
Lark returned, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging slightly open. She held a baggie in her hand; Dad hadn’t even tried to remove the ring from it.
“Is this really Isis’ ring?” she asked nervously.
Robert’s face was stoic. “If Isis was the one who attacked Grace, then it’s got to be hers.”
“So is that the story? That Isis was the one who killed Mrs. Deovolente?” Graham asked.
“There’s only one way to find out,” Lark said as she opened the bag and slipped the ring on her finger.
We stood there, Stacy, Robert, Graham, Dad, and I, watching Lark’s eyes shake, her face and her mouth grow tight and then slacken. To anyone coming in, it looked like we were standing around Janice’s bed in solemn solidarity. They didn’t know that what Lark was seeing would destroy the peace of mind of everyone there.
“Oh my God.” Lark regained focus and looked at us. “Grace…”
“What?”
Robert shook his head in short twitches, denial slipping out of him like hiccups. “No. Don’t tell her. Don’t tell her, Lark. Don’t say a word.”
“What?” I asked again, trying to see what they both saw and finding only darkness.
Stacy grabbed Lark’s arm and shook her. “What the hell did you see?”
Lark’s eyes were cold, flat, and defiant as she turned to face Stacy. “Grace’s death.”
“Well, it’s wrong,” I said adamantly. “I told you, I’m not dying. I’m not giving up anymore. And besides, Isis is dead. Whatever she tried to do is over.”
“Grace, you don’t understand,” Lark said softly. “Isis wasn’t Sam’s partner. Sam didn’t have a partner; he was part of a plan. He and Isis were working for someone else.”
“Who?”
> Lark and Robert looked at each other, and then both turned their gazes towards me. Lark’s mouth moved, but the words didn’t come from her. They came from Robert. “Our grandfather.”
The room blasted with cold air, a hurricane that was hell bent on destruction as the curtains fronting the entrance of the room began tearing at their grommets, the metallic silver rings clanging onto the floor. The machines in the room began to beep wildly before sparks shot out from them in bright arcs. A nurse ran in, tripping on the curtain and nearly falling on her face.
But I was there. She fell into my arms and I didn’t sway at the contact, despite her being at least half a foot taller than me and about fifty pounds heavier. Instead I felt rooted to the ground, unmovable and unbending. I was just as stunned as she was, but she didn’t pause to question why. She was there for a reason that went beyond being shocked. She rushed to the now smoking machines and began pulling at cords and jamming at buttons, trying to stop the strange squealing that now came out of the overheated and confused devices.
Another nurse ran in, followed by a doctor. I felt a hand grab my arm and tug me away as the bed crowded with people concerned over the false Janice. I could hear the faint sounds of crackling, and I ducked just moments before everything that was made of glass shattered, raining down onto the floor and onto us like rain.
Or like tears.
Because what traveled throughout the room wasn’t just disbelief, it was pain, disappointment, grief…
“Grace, come on,” Dad said to me, picking me up and pulling me out of the room.
“What about-”
“Don’t worry about her. She knows what she has to do,” Lark whispered into my ear as I felt my body being dragged further and further away from the room.
That’s what worried me the most.
“What…what else did you see? What did you see on that ring, Lark?” I asked as my feet moved, one after the other, out of the hospital and into the parking garage.
“I can’t tell you that, Grace.”
“Then don’t say it. Show it.” I forced my feet to stop moving and I stared her down.
She looked around, the darkness of the garage cut only with a few dull yellow swaths of light, and then her eyes narrowed.