by Dima Zales
“I’m tired of being mad at you,” she said.
“Is that even possible?”
“Yeah, it is. So say you’re sorry for snapping at me.”
“You know I am.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You’re a great Guardian. You’ve always done your share.”
“Yeah, I’m a wonder,” she said. I turned to look at her. She was so adorable. You would never guess that death was only a melody away from her lips.
“How’s your brother?”
“He hates you.”
“The line’s long.”
“Really long.”
“How is she?”
“Which ‘she’ are you talking about?”
“C’mon, Pretty.” She loved when I called her that. I had told her that the first thing I thought when I found out what her power was, was that she was pretty and deadly. I always called her that when I was trying to get something from her or cheer her up.
“If you mean Ameana, she’s okay, considering.”
“Considering what?”
She looked at me as if to say, “Don’t be stupid.”
“You have to go get it, Marcus.”
“No, I love Ameana.”
Miku wanted me to go get my heart from Ameana. Angels are basically made up of two parts: our hearts and our souls. The heart represents our physical life and the soul is our life now as angels. Since we could not give our souls away, we literally gave our hearts. Since we don’t need a heart to stay alive anymore, we keep it encased in a shatterproof glass called the Rah.
Giving someone your Rah was the equivalent of a human marriage. When and if one angel wanted their heart back, they both needed to open the Rah together. That meant that both parties were okay about the change that was being made. If both parties didn’t open it at once, the Rah would not open. This was Omnis’ way of ensuring that both angels had talked things out and held no bitter feelings.
Ameana has my Rah. We had made the trip after we fell in love. It was the first time we were on Earth together. I am not going to tell her that she now has to travel with me to get it back. I will not break her heart.
“I can’t ask her to do that, Miku.”
“Well, you better do something.”
“I love Ameana.”
She was quiet. She always was when it came to the subject of love. I think in her mind, that’s the reason why she died.
“Hey, I really am sorry I snapped at you. How do I make it up to you?”
“The next Runner I kill, I want to play with. I want full reign to maim, burn or let bleed out as I see fit, deal?”
“Deal.”
That girl is one creepy little angel…
9
Miku suggested I invite Emerson to dinner. Maybe having a meal together would help to relax her and let her know she is among friends. After dinner, I drove her home.
Sitting there in the car, a part of me bitterly resented what she was doing to me. I know it’s not her fault, but does she have to be so… alluring? Could she do something about the adorable way she looks up toward the sky when she’s thinking? Or the way her eyes fill with wonder when we do something humans can’t?
And what about the way her laughter sounds like a melody too sweet and complicated to be replicated by any known instrument? Surely she can do something to stop that. Argh!
I make myself count down from one hundred. That way I can focus on something else besides the spot between her earlobe and neck. It looked so soft. Her lips were slightly parted as she looked out the window. I wanted to part them further with mine.
I put my both hands on the steering wheel. I could not allow myself to let go until she was out of the car. I cracked the outer frame of the steering wheel because I was holding on too tight. Jay would kill me, but better Jay than Ameana.
Suddenly, she leaned in and kissed me. It was far better than I could even begin to explain to you. It’s a good thing angels don’t breathe. I would have stopped right then and there. Her lips are soft like clouds, and I would know.
I’ve fought Akons, Runners and Pawns. I’ve died a slow painful death on Earth. And nothing, nothing can compare to how hard it was for me to pull away from her lips. I don’t think I could bring myself to do it twice in a lifetime. I pulled away. The look on my face shattered her. She ran from the car.
I called out her name but I stayed where I was. What would I do if she were in my arms weeping? There was no mistake about it: if I got out of the car and went to her, there would be nothing angel-like about the way I’d touch her.
Here’s the thing—when do I tell Meana? There is no question as to whether or not I tell her. I couldn’t stand myself if I didn’t. I owe her that. Besides, girls always know these things. I guess it’s some type of woman’s intuition. That’s what I’ve always been told.
I have to be real careful about how to break the news to Meana. She could hurl me to the moon or send Emerson into orbit. Losing Julian was bad, but losing the only clue we had? That would be catastrophic.
A few hours later, Ameana came home. She barely nodded to me as she went off into her room. I knocked on the door and waited for her to answer.
“What?” she said.
“Can we talk?”
“I’m not in the mood, Marcus. Go fight with someone else.”
“Please, Mimi. It’s important.”
“Fine.”
I opened the door and came in. She was leaning by the window, looking out at the city.
“Did you decide to tell them yet?” she asked.
“No, it’s not about that. It’s about us. Well, me and the girl.”
“Emerson?”
“Yeah, she kissed me.”
“Okay.”
“That’s it?”
“Thanks for telling me.”
“Don’t do this, Ameana. Don’t shut down on me. It was hard to come tell you this, but I did because I wanted to be honest with you.”
“Honest? You want to be honest?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Excuse me?”
“When are you planning to grace me with this honesty?”
“I’m doing that now.”
“No, you’re covering your butt in case I find out about it.”
“I didn’t even think about that. I wanted to be honest.”
“Then admit to me that you have wanted her since the day you saw her. Admit that saying her name out loud is hard for you because you want her so much it hurts. Admit that you kissed her back.”
“She kissed me and I pulled away. I can tell her not to do it again. I can make sure she understands that you and I are together.”
“Before you explain that to her, maybe you should try reminding yourself.”
“I know we’re together. I haven’t done anything to betray that.”
“Did you like the kiss?”
“What?”
“Don’t screw with me. Marcus. I’ll wrap you around a power line. Answer the question.”
“No, I didn’t like it.”
“You know what hurts, Marcus? Not that you want her. Not that you think about her all the time. It’s not even the fact that you let her kiss you. What hurts right now is the lie you just told me.”
“Mimi….”
“Get out.”
“I’m just trying to—”
She waved her hand and catapulted me out the window and onto the other side of the street. I hit walls and lamp posts along the way. Man, that hurt. But I didn’t pull rank on her. She had a right to her anger. I had messed up badly. The worst thing is if I had a chance to kiss Emerson again, I would. And the only girl I’ve ever loved knows that.
The next day, Reese had gone over to Emerson to make sure I didn’t completely wreck her self-esteem. Jay and Ameana had gone out together to hunt Runners. I got a text from Jay that read “Meana on way, pissed. Duck.”
What does that mean? I didn’t have to wait long to find out. I was
sitting on the stairs feeling like a complete loser when something came flying towards my head at inhuman speed. I ducked just in time. It crashed and hit the wall behind me. It was a Splash, and Meana had thrown it at me from down the street.
“Whoa, what the…?”
“You lousy, no good bastard!” she shouted.
“What the heck was that?” I asked again.
“Read the Splash, Marcus. Read it.”
I turned around to where the globe had hit the wall. The words that splashed on the wall had formed into a newspaper behind me. In the center was a picture of me and Emerson kissing. I walked in closer to read the article on the wall.
Guardian Couple Woes could ground ‘Walkers’
By I. M. Trouble
Hello, my little winged ones. I have some troubling news to report to you. It seems that our beloved first Guardian couple may be headed the way of Brad and Jennifer. And who is the Angelina in all of this you ask? Well, it happens to be the human, Emerson Hope Baxter. That’s right! As the picture shows above, the human has her claws—or should we say her lips—around our very own First Guardian.
Where is the devastatingly beautiful Ameana while the human tackles her man? Well, some say she has taken to bed, ill with heartache. Others say she couldn’t care less about what the hottest, youngest First Guardian is doing because she is too busy with another guy. Who could this other angel be? Some speculate it’s dark and sexy chocolate, Jayden. While still others insist it’s none other than our favorite mood ring of hotness, Rio.
Given the state of the current situation, is it any wonder Ground Walkers are worried about their jobs? If the Guardians don’t save the humans, who will the Ground Walkers inhabit to spread good on Earth?
Maybe he’s saving the world one girl at a time. And as for the human males? Oh, who cares? Look at the lips on that girl. Nice, Marcus, very nice….
I read it twice. I wanted to make sure that this wasn’t some kind of nightmare, but it was all real. I had messed up and my mistake was plastered in front of the world. I turned to look at Meana but she was gone. I ran up to her room but she wasn’t there. The only shred of good here was that I had told her the truth about the kiss having taken place before it hit the Splash.
And that was the only thing that stopped me from being a complete jerk in her eyes. But what do I know. Maybe there was so much damage done that it didn’t matter that I told her before it came out. Maybe everything was beyond repair. I headed for the mountains again
Why was Ameana acting like that? I guess hearing about the kiss is different than being confronted with the picture. I knew how they got it. Traveler angels have amazing hearing. That’s one of the things that you need to have to be chosen as one: hearing, speed and a talent for being really nosy.
They can’t overhear everything, but if we are out in the open and a Ground Walker is nearby, there is a good chance that a Traveler is, too. GW angels always want the rest of us to know what they are up to. Some do it to strengthen our faith in humanity. Others do it so they can brag about what great angels they are.
Since we were chosen to battle for the Triplex, every Splash has been about us. I think it has made some of the GW angels jealous. Well, they can have the fame if they want it. I hated having everyone in my business. It wouldn’t be that bad if they’d get it right once in a while, but they never do.
The way they got the picture is the way all Travelers get it: they snap their eye shut. It blinks a flash of light and takes a picture. It’s like they have a camera in their eyes. When they go to the council, the council looks into their eyes and reviews all their shots. They are only supposed to be taking picture of things that are relevant to the council. But many make time to get a few “juicy” shots and spread them across a Splash.
The next day at school, I caught up with Meana in the hallway. She wanted nothing to do with me. I cornered her anyway.
“Five minutes.”
“No.”
“Okay, three.”
“Go away.”
“Okay, two minutes. If you don’t like what I have to say, you can send me to the other side of the world.”
I take her into the same class we were in the last time. I didn’t think she’d let me touch even her shoulders, so holding her hand was out of the question. I looked into her eyes and hoped she’d give me a break and listen.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I should have pushed her away the second she came up to me. I love you and I don’t want to lose you.”
“No, you want her. You’re just afraid to say it.”
“If she’s the one I want, then what am I doing here with you?” I pull in close and kiss her passionately. And thankfully she allows me.
When we got back to the house, Rio was there with a grave look on his face.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Emmy’s onyx. We gotta go.”
“Mimi, go secure her mother,” I ordered.
“On it,” she said as she ran up to the roof. The twins and I took off right behind her. Reese and Jay were already en route.
By the time the whole ordeal was over, Emmy had watched her friend get killed by a Pawn and there was nothing she could have done. So, as it stands now, both Emerson and the Triplex are out of our reach.
10
All our endeavors to get Emerson to come back to the land of the living have failed. She’s completely shut down. Everyone has tried to figure out a way to get her to come back and be her old self again. Nothing has worked. Right now it feels like we are babysitting more than protecting a clue that could save the world.
I was on watch duty when Jay came up to me and asked if he should take a crack at trying to cheer up Emerson. I told him it was worth a try and he went up to her apartment. Her mom had been working less so that she could be there for her. Seeing her daughter lifeless was a great strain to Marla. She had bags around her eyes and had bitten her nails.
A few moments later, Jay comes downstairs with Emerson. She’s wearing faded jeans and a thick coat. Her hair is a tangled mess. It reminds me of the first time we met. I really wish we didn’t have to be here to do this to her. It’s one thing to watch someone die, but to be told that you have to get over it is cruel. And that is exactly what we have told her.
She’s been a zombie for three weeks now. I shouldn’t have let her stay in that state for this long, but it broke my heart to know that she was suffering. Still, I cannot allow her to stay this way for more than another day or two. We are running out of time. She is the only thing we’ve got going for us, and I can’t let her tune out the world. If she does, when she comes out of her depression there might not be a world to tune in to.
Jay sits her down on a bench across the street. I stand nearby to watch out for Akons. I give them enough distance that they can talk, but I am able to overhear them. Jay speaks to her with warmth and concern.
“Are you sure you want to be out here, Emmy?”
She nodded. That’s what she almost always did now. Jay tried again.
“Hey, I know this stuff is hard, Emmy, trust me. But it gets better.”
She just looks at him with deep sorrow. He puts his arms around her and zips up her coat protectively. He starts telling her his Core in hopes that it will help her come to terms with Sara’s death.
“I know how hard it is, believe me,” Jay said. As he continues to talk, I pick up on the sadness behind his voice. Jay rarely speaks about his Core. I listen intently.
“I lived on Adams and Crenshaw, the welcome mat to the hood. We didn’t live like boys in the hood with gun shots every minute, but we weren’t the Cosbys, either. It was my mom and dad, my sister, and I. My dad was a parking-lot attendant and my mom was a receptionist. We had lived in our neighborhood forever, it seemed.
“Everyone I knew had belonged to some kind of gang. My mother had the gang talk with me real early. She said, ‘You join, you die. ‘Cause I’ll kill you.’ That was her ‘stay away from gangs’ speech.
“Every time we could have done something wrong, she steered us back on the right path. She’d threaten to break our necks, our behinds and go upside our heads. I’m not even sure how she was planning to do the last one, but I was careful not to find out.
“But all in all, I was happy. My mom cooked better than anyone on the planet. I would wait until she turned her back and then sneak into the kitchen and pick at the food. She said that since I was spending all that time waiting to steal, I might as well learn how to cook. So, every day after school, I had to come home and chop, season—you name it.
“Later on I realized that it was just her way of keeping us off the street. She made sure we were in the kitchen or doing homework. There was no wiggle room on that. We got teased because we could never come out and play like every other kid. But you didn’t argue with my mom. She was barely five feet, but she could take you over her head and be ‘bout it. We were all afraid of her, including my father.
“One night we heard shots. That was not an everyday thing around my way, but it wasn’t unheard of. A few minutes later we heard cop cars. A woman down the street was screaming. Later that week we found out that her son James had been shot. The gang he was running with heard he was trying to get out.
“That was the fourth son she lost to violence. The other three were victims of drive- bys: two died on the street and the other one died on the operating table. She had had five sons. She was now down to one. His name was Will. He was nine years old.
“A few days later he asked me to help him write a letter to his mom. That way when he got shot, she’d have something to remember him by.
“I decided to look after him from then on. I went over there every day. I helped him with his homework. I helped him make dinner with for his mom and we played video games.
“One day I came over to check on his homework and he said he didn’t do it. I asked why, and he said he didn’t know what the point was. His mother was never going to stop being sad all the time and nothing he did was going to bring his brothers back.
“I went over when Will was still at school and I told his mom that she was missing out. She got mad and threw me out, but I came back. I kept coming back until she had no choice but to hear me out. I told her that she had to come back for Will. She couldn’t just drown in her sadness because she would lose the only reason she had left for living.