by S. J. West
I look at Tristan and he looks just as befuddled by Mae’s announcement as my dad and me.
“I really don’t know what’s going on,” Tristan says to us, obviously seeing our reaction to Mae’s words on our faces. “But I promise you both, I would never do anything to harm her.”
“What is it that you feel exactly?” I have to ask.
“I feel…loyal to her,” he says, like he’s trying to find the right words to describe his new found attachment to Mae. “I feel like I need to protect her.”
“Do you love her?”
“I’m not even sure how that’s supposed to feel to be honest,” Tristan says. “I’ve never really felt it for anyone in my life. I thought I felt it for my father, but I’m not even sure about that anymore. I think I just felt blind loyalty for him.”
“You’re welcome to stay here,” my father says, “but you do understand this isn’t a permanent living arrangement for you, right?”
“Yes, I understand that,” Tristan says. “And I don’t plan to be a burden on your family for very much longer, but,” Tristan looks over at me, “I have a feeling you might need some help. If there’s anything I can do to repay your kindness, I would be more than willing to lend a hand.”
“We’ll keep that in mind,” I tell him, not quite sure what we would need Tristan for exactly.
Aiden phases back to the living room from his quest to gather information from Jess and Mason for my father.
“How is Uncle Malcolm?” I immediately ask him as he walks over to where I am.
“He hasn’t woken up yet,” Aiden tells me.
“And were Jess and the others successful in capturing Amon earlier?” My dad asks, again voicing the question he wanted Aiden to get an answer to.
“Yes,” Aiden tells us, but he doesn’t look as happy as he should about the answer.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Aiden sighs. “Jess and Mason think Amon was just a distraction to get them out of the picture for the attack at your school. They said he lead them on a wild goose chase for most of the day and they almost missed the 911 call Malcolm sent them when the attack started. They were smack dab in the middle of a fight with Amon when it came, which couldn’t have been a coincidence. But, I don’t think they counted on me being there today, and since I was invisible, they didn’t see me until the attack began.”
“So three princes came after me thinking I only had Uncle Malcolm for back up,” I say.
“I think their plan was to hit you fast and hard,” Aiden says. “And by doing it in such a public environment, take you by surprise. I think they knew you wouldn’t just leave all those people to their mercy.”
“Have they already taken Amon’s body somewhere?” I ask.
“Yes, Andre was placed in charge of hiding him.”
I must look as disappointed as I feel.
“Why?” Aiden asks, not missing a thing.
“I…ok this is going to sound weird, but I wanted to check his body for something.”
“What?” Aiden and my dad ask at the same time, both in surprise.
“It’s something I noticed on Belphagor while we were in the French Market. And then I noticed something similar on Mammon at the school.”
“Noticed what exactly?” My dad asks, crossing his arms in front of him and looking concerned by this new revelation.
“It was like a raised brand,” I tell him. “Like something was burned into their skin and it scarred over.”
“Like a symbol of some sort?” My dad asks.
I nod. “Yeah. But it had archangel writing on it.”
“Were you able to understand what was written?”
“Yes, but the words just seem random to me.”
“What did they say?”
“The word on Belphagor was ‘sacrifice’ and the word on Mammon was ‘want’.”
“I’ve seen what you’re talking about,” Tristan says. “My father met with the princes a lot. I’ve seen the brands. They all have them, even Lucifer.”
“Do you remember what they look like?” I ask excitedly. “Could you draw them out?”
Tristan shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry. I was usually in wolf form during the meetings. My dad liked to parade me around in front of them because I was something they could never have. I think that might be one reason Lucifer made the hellhounds. He wanted pets too.”
“Jess and Mason have had the most contact with them,” I say. “Maybe we should go talk to them about it. They might already know what they mean.”
“Why don’t you and Aiden go speak with them,” my dad suggests. “I think your brother needs some more time to deal with what happened at the school or we would all go.”
“Do you think it would help if I went up and talked to him?”
My dad shakes his head. “Maybe later. I think he just needs some time alone right now.”
I nod. “Ok.”
Aiden touches me on the shoulder and phases us to Jess and Mason’s villa.
We phase into a bedroom I haven’t been in before. Uncle Malcolm is lying beneath a patchwork quilt on the bed, and my mother is sitting beside him holding one of his large hands between both of hers.
Jess and Mason are standing by a set of doors, which lead out onto a balcony.
“Hey kiddo,” Jess says when she sees me.
My mom turns to look at Aiden and me, and I can tell she’s been crying from the red puffiness surrounding her eyes. She doesn’t say anything to us, just returns her attention back to Uncle Malcolm.
“Jess,” I say in a whisper as Aiden and I go stand by them, “could we go somewhere to talk about something?”
I don’t want to say anything about the brands in front of my mother. They could mean something or they could be nothing. She has enough on her plate at the moment, and I don’t want to add to it unnecessarily.
“Sure,” Jess says.
Jess goes over to my mother and touches her on the shoulder.
“We’ll be in the kitchen if his condition changes or if you need anything, Lilly.”
My mom nods but doesn’t seem to be able to take her eyes off Uncle Malcolm. I’m worried about her. She's taking what happened to Uncle Malcolm harder than I thought she would. She looks completely devastated, like we've lost him already.
When we reach the kitchen, Mason offers us something to drink, and we all agree to have the sweet tea he already has prepared.
“Mason’s gone completely native,” Jess tells us as we all sit down at the kitchen table. “Ever since he started living in Cypress Hollow, he’s become addicted to sweet tea.”
“I like sweet things,” Mason says to Jess with a smile.
“I know,” she replies returning his smile.
“Jess,” I say regaining her attention, “I came over to ask if you've ever noticed brands on the princes?”
“Yes,” Jess says, surprised by the question. “The first one I saw was on Lucifer. Then I noticed one on Amon.”
“I saw them on Belphagor and Mammon. And from what Tristan told me a little while ago, all of the princes have one. Do you know what they are?”
Jess shrugs. “I don’t have a clue. I talked to Michael about it once, and he said they were probably something Lucifer did to mark them.”
“Did my grandfather tell you what Lucifer and Amon’s marks said?”
“Yeah, he did say it was archangel writing. Lucifer’s said ‘silence’ and Amon’s said ‘conflict’. What did Belphagor’s and Mammon’s say?”
“’Sacrifice’ and ‘want’.”
“Sounds like some random bad words to me,” Jess says.
I see her look over my shoulder. “You have any ideas?”
I look behind me but don’t see anyone. I don’t have to ask whom Jess is speaking to. I already know she can see and speak with my grandfather whenever she wants. All of the vessels can. Their mental connection with their respective archangels allows them to communicate at any time.
“Mich
ael’s not sure what they mean either. It’s probably just some sort of stupid evil thing Lucifer concocted to keep tabs on the other princes. My guess is that it links them in some way. I’m not sure it’s something for us to worry about right now.”
“You’re probably right,” I say. “But, I can’t shake this feeling that they’re somehow important.”
“Well, let’s just keep our eyes and ears open for any more clues,” Jess suggests. “I’m sure if these brands are significant we’ll be told why eventually. God might not be the most forthcoming about handing out information, but when it’s important, He normally gives us just enough help to figure things out on our own.”
My mother phases into the kitchen.
“Malcolm’s awake,” she says, looking at my untouched glass of sweet tea and snagging it. “And he’s thirsty.”
She phases and we all follow her back to the room.
Uncle Malcolm is still lying in bed, but he’s sitting up now with the help of some pillows behind his back. The term ‘death warmed over’ comes to my mind because that’s exactly the way Uncle Malcolm looks. He looks pale and his eyes look tired.
“Here, drink this,” my mom tells Uncle Malcolm, handing him my glass of sweet tea.
Uncle Malcolm takes the glass and drinks it slowly, but he manages to drink it all down.
“Thank you, dearest,” he says, handing the empty glass back to her.
“Do you want some more?” My mom asks.
Uncle Malcolm shakes his head.
“No, not right now,” he replies in a weak voice.
I walk over to the bed to get a better look at him.
“How do you feel?”
“A little tired,” Uncle Malcolm says. “I’ll be fine though. Don’t worry about me.”
“Any…pain?” Mason asks as if he expects Uncle Malcolm to be in a great deal of it.
“There’s some,” Uncle Malcolm admits. “But not as much as there was at first. Whatever you did seems to have alleviated the vast majority of it.”
Hmm, Uncle Malcolm isn’t exactly lying, that much I can tell. But, I don’t need my lie detector to know he’s down playing how much discomfort he’s actually in.
“What happened when Aiden and I left you in that hallway with Baal?” I ask.
“Baal and I fought,” Uncle Malcolm says. “I was pretty much able to keep his dogs at bay while we were going at it, but one of them got lucky and bit me during the fight. I killed the dogs off quickly, but after that, Baal had already run away. Then I went to find you and Leah.”
“Are you hungry?” My mother asks seeming desperate to do something for Uncle Malcolm. “You need to keep up your strength.”
“If it would make you feel better,” Uncle Malcolm says to her gently, “I will eat whatever you bring me.”
“Ok,” my mother says standing up, “I’ll be right back.”
She phases and I have to assume she’s probably gone back home to get my father to cook something.
I don’t think Uncle Malcolm minds my mother pampering him though if the small smile that appears on his face is any evidence.
I go over to the bed and sit where my mother did. When I lean in to give Uncle Malcolm a hug, I do something I probably shouldn’t, but I have to know. I ask Jess’ bracelet to tell me what Uncle Malcolm is feeling.
As soon as I touch him, I’m hit in the pit of my stomach with a searing pain so intense I almost cry out, but I just gasp instead, finding it difficult to even breathe.
Uncle Malcolm puts his lips next to my ear and whispers, “Don’t tell anyone.”
Tears well in my eyes, but I nod my head slightly to let him know I heard what he said.
I hold onto him even tighter. The pain he’s in won’t be a fleeting one. It will never heal. And I know he will have to endure his own private torture for many years to come.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
While my mother is gone, Mason brings Rafe over to examine Uncle Malcolm.
“And the pain,” Rafe says to Uncle Malcolm, “on a scale between 1 and 10, how would you rate it?”
“Three,” Uncle Malcolm lies.
He looks at Mason and me because he knows of anyone in the room, we will know he just lied.
“It’s bearable,” he says for our benefit.
“I wish there was more I could do for you, my friend,” Rafe tells Uncle Malcolm.
“You did what you could, Rafe. And I appreciate that.”
Desmond phases to the villa to speak with Aiden while Mason takes Rafe back to his clinic.
I’m not quite sure what all is said, but I have a sneaking suspicion it concerns me considering the way Desmond keeps glancing in my direction. After Desmond leaves, Aiden comes over to me.
“I need to go somewhere for a little while,” he tells me. “But I won’t be gone for long.”
“Where are you going?” I ask, worried he might be heading into danger and just not telling me.
“I’m just going to my house in the Bahamas,” he says. “And I’ll be back in a little while to get you, ok?”
“Is there a reason I can’t come with you now?”
“How would I be able to surprise you with anything if you came with me?”
“What kind of surprise?” I ask, completely intrigued.
“No more questions,” he says gently, leaning down and kissing me chastely on the lips. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Don’t take too long,” I request.
“I won’t,” he promises before phasing.
When my mother comes back, she’s carrying a basket full of food. It looks like enough food to feed a family of four for a week.
Uncle Malcolm looks inside the basket and says, “Dearest, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all that.”
“I wasn’t sure what you would be in the mood for,” my mother says looking slightly flustered. “So I just brought everything I thought you might want. You don’t have to eat it all…I just… I just didn’t know what you were hungry for so I …”
My mother’s voice trails off, and I see her eyes begin to tear up again.
Uncle Malcolm puts a comforting hand on top of my mother’s, which is holding the basket.
“Lilly,” Uncle Malcolm says, “I’m alive. Yes, I’m in some pain, but don’t let that upset you so much. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“But, for how long?” My mother asks, openly crying.
It’s then I know she realizes Uncle Malcolm is downplaying the pain he’s in for her benefit.
“I’ll never make a deal with him,” Uncle Malcolm says. “I make that promise to you, and I will never break a promise I make to you, Lilly.”
“I would rather see you die than lose your soul to him,” my mother says vehemently. “I need you to make another promise to me. Promise me that if the pain becomes more than you can bear, you’ll come to me first.”
“I will,” Uncle Malcolm says, one of the few times I’ve seen him completely serious. “I promise, Lilly.”
This seems to make my mother feel a little better, and she wipes away the tears from her eyes.
I don’t have to ask what she’s talking about. I know.
We can kill angels. All of us kids can do it, but I’m hoping we never have to use that particular inherited trait from my grandfather. Too bad we can’t kill archangels though. That sure would come in handy right about now.
I hope if the pain becomes more than he can bear my Uncle Malcolm will come to me instead of my mother. Killing him would definitely hurt me, but it would absolutely break my mother. I would rather have the guilt on my soul than have her live with it. But, I have a feeling neither of us will ever have to face that gruesome task.
According to God, Uncle Malcolm will live a long time. Long enough to help my descendant defeat the princes and take back what they stole from Heaven. I wish I knew what it was they stole so I could get it back myself. I don’t see why it has to be Anna who does it. What will be different about her? What power
am I lacking that she will ultimately come to have?
About thirty minutes after he left, Aiden comes back. Unfortunately, he’s changed out of the tight fitting black leather outfit JoJo made him. He’s in more relaxed clothing now consisting of a pair of jeans, black t-shirt, and flip-flops.
“Lilly,” Aiden says to my mother as she’s spoon-feeding Uncle Malcolm some chicken soup, “I’m taking Caylin to my home in the Bahamas now like we discussed earlier.”
“Ok,” my mom says, “just have her back home by eleven.”
I almost ask why I get the extra hour but realize the answer before I ask it.
I don’t have a school to go back to the next day. I’m not really sure what will happen now that it’s been burnt to the ground by Leah’s Heavenly fire.
“Are you ready?” Aiden asks, holding his hand out to me.
“I guess,” I say a little uncertain. “What exactly are we doing?”
Aiden smiles. “Boy, you sure are hard to give a surprise to. Stop asking so many questions, beautiful, and just trust me.”
I place my hand in Aiden’s.
“I do trust you,” I tell him. “And I always will.”
Aiden tightens his grip on my hand and phases us to his house.
We end up in a bathroom I’ve never been in before. White candles are lit everywhere and a large, round bathtub in the middle of the marble floor is almost overflowing with bubbles. The faint scent of vanilla fills the air. I feel calm in this space, which is what I have to assume Aiden was going for.
“I thought you might like a relaxing bath,” Aiden says, turning to me and slipping my school blazer down off my shoulders. He folds it and sets it on a nearby glass top table by a black velvet and steel chair.
He turns back to me and pulls the tie around my neck off then lays it on top of the blazer.
“Sit down,” he says, indicating the chair with a nod of his head.
I sit down and Aiden kneels down in front of me.
He unzips one boot and tugs it off my foot. Then does the same with the second. He then runs his hands down one calf and pulls the knee high sock off before taking the other one off too.
Before I even have a chance to wonder what else he’ll help me take off, Aiden stands.
“I’ve put some fresh clothes in the connecting bedroom. Your mother picked it out of your closet for me to bring.”