Fallen (The Guardian Series Book 2)

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Fallen (The Guardian Series Book 2) Page 15

by A. J. Messenger


  Finn and I are left alone with Zeno and I kneel down and we pet him gently, trying to soothe him as we listen to his labored breathing and soft whimpers. “It’s okay, Zeno,” I say softly through tears, “hang in there. Please, Zeno, hang in there, buddy.”

  “You’ll be okay, boy,” Finn says to him quietly with tears in his eyes. Then he turns to me. “Will you stay with Zeno while I go in and get him a blanket?” he asks, his voice is strained and the depth of sadness in his eyes is fathomless.

  I nod. “Of course.”

  I stay with Zeno, silently praying that I’ll wake up any moment and this will all be just a nightmare. My heart aches so keenly I can barely breathe. As I sit with my hand on Zeno’s side, listening with agony to his labored breathing and encouraging him to hang in there, a cold, black shudder runs over me and I feel compelled to look up.

  There in the distance, standing on the corner, is Avestan. Watching.

  A slow, sickening smile forms on his face and he raises his hand in a wave. As my eyes register horror at what he’s done, he turns and walks away.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  I want to run after him. I want to kill him with my bare hands. I don’t care what powers Avestan has, I’ll murder him right now for hurting Zeno or I’ll die trying. My heart is thrashing in my chest and I’m consumed with anger but I can’t leave Zeno here in the grass alone. I look around to see if Finn has come back yet and that’s when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

  I turn and let out a rush of relief when I see that it’s Edwin.

  “Avestan did this,” I spit out in anguish, tears falling freely. “I just saw him on the corner. You have to do something Edwin, now, please. Please.”

  Edwin looks around and kneels beside me. He places his palms on Zeno’s side and I immediately feel Zeno’s body heat. His eyes close and the whimpering stops and I see shimmering light under Edwin’s hands as he runs them over Zeno’s body from head to tail and down each leg to his paws. I peer over my shoulder and see that Mr. Cooper is walking towards us, and the girl and the car blocking the street are now gone. Edwin quickly removes his hands from Zeno and meets my eyes with a hopeful look.

  Relief floods over me and I take his hand and squeeze it, tears overflowing. “Thank you, Edwin,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

  I look up to see Mrs. Cooper scurrying out of the house with her purse on her shoulder and keys in her hand with Finn close behind holding a blanket. When they reach us, Zeno’s eyes are now half open and he’s breathing evenly. Edwin helps Mr. Cooper load Zeno into the car and Finn lays the blanket over him and stays with him in the back seat while Mr. and Mrs. Cooper climb in the front. Mrs. Cooper turns to me, bereft and frantic, “I left eggs cooking on the stove, Declan,” she says. “Can you turn it off?”

  “Yes, of course,” I say. “Call me, please, to let me know what the vet says,” I say to them as they start to back out of the driveway. Finn nods, looking so worried it makes my heart ache.

  As we watch them disappear around the corner all I can think about is that I can’t keep putting all the people I love in danger. This has to stop.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  I follow Edwin to his house after we leave Finn’s. I sit down in the kitchen and Edwin heats some water on the stove for tea.

  “How did you know to come?” I ask.

  “A guardian alerted me,” he says gravely.

  “Avestan did this to hurt me,” I say with emotion.

  Edwin takes my hand. “Yes,” he says. “He did it to hurt you deeply. As it has.” He meets my eyes with tender compassion. “I’m so sorry, Declan. He’s retaliating for what happened in Nusquam in a way I didn’t see coming. You humiliated him and he’s lashing out simply to hurt with no other gain. This was my failure. Avestan knows that if he causes pain to those around you, the hurt is greater than if he attacked you directly. I was protecting Finn and his family. I didn’t realize he would also target Zeno.”

  I shake my head. “If it weren’t for your protection he might have hurt Finn,” I say and the thought sends fresh tears to my eyes.

  Edwin looks up at me. “I don’t know how you’ll feel about this but I don’t think we should tell Alexander.”

  “Because he’d want to come back,” I say, finishing Edwin’s thought.

  “Yes, and because Avestan might be treating this as a test.”

  “How?” I ask.

  “He may want to see if it makes Alexander come back.”

  I take a moment to consider his words. “This is all a game to him?” My voice is filled with contempt. “Hurting children? Hurting innocent animals? Trying to move a game piece here, and see if another piece moves over there? It’s sick! And evil.”

  Edwin nods. “Yes, it is. But if Alexander doesn’t come back, Avestan may finally realize the only way to fight him is to follow him, away from here.”

  I feel so angry inside and I can barely contain it. “Can’t we just go find Avestan right now and destroy him?” I ask. “If we all work together—”

  “It wouldn’t work,” Edwin says.

  “Why?”

  “He won’t engage with anyone else to that level until he destroys Alexander,” he says. “He’s obsessed and he’ll do anything, to the point of putting himself at risk, to make it happen. His hate is his greatest power and also his greatest liability. It drives him, just as Alexander’s love for you drives him to the same risks.”

  I’m taken aback by his answer. Alexander is risking his life for me. Zeno nearly died because of me. Little Charlie Bing was placed in mortal danger, also because of me.

  For the first time I almost wish we could sail back in time to before Alexander and I met, only this time he could leave me at the mercy of my panic attacks and let Avestan do his worst.

  At least then I’d be the only one hurt.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Why doesn’t Alexander send me a sign? Anything? Finn called from the pet hospital to say Zeno’s going to be okay and the relief in his voice and the relief I felt hearing the news made me burst into tears. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to find Avestan and kill him, with my bare hands, for what he did. I take a shower and remind myself over and over that Zeno is okay, as I let the water pour over me, but I can’t let it go. Why can’t Avestan just leave us all alone and let me be with Alexander and stop hurting everyone around me? I’m sick to my stomach again when I think about Alexander and whether or not he’s fighting Malentus. Or Avestan. Take your pick. He’s putting himself in so much danger from all sides. When I get out of the shower it’s still only 9:30 a.m. and I don’t have to be to Fields and Morris until noon. I think I’ll go mad if I can’t stop all these thoughts and the worry coursing through me like venom.

  I survey my room as I get dressed. The closet and drawers are overflowing. I start tossing all my clothes furiously into a big heap on my bed and then I quickly separate them into categories: keep, donate, and attic storage. In the mood I’m in, I’m probably getting rid of too much but I’m obsessed with the task because it’s distracting me from all of my overwhelming emotions. When I can finally open and close my dresser drawers freely without having to shove down clothes, it actually feels good. And satisfying. And I realize how foreign that seems. I haven’t felt good in a while.

  I place the plastic lid on a storage bin for the attic and I pull down the folding attic stairs from the ceiling in the hallway. Willow, my cat, trots in from my father’s old office where she’s been taking a nap to see what’s going on. “You coming with me into the attic?” I ask and she meows back as if she understands. Willow “talks” to you in cat-speak that honestly sounds more like words than meows. One time, right before she threw up in the hallway, I swear she looked at me and said “Mama?” Her vocalizations are eerily clear and I think she was asking me why the heck she was sick. When I was seven I made a wish on my birthday for Willow to be able to speak and I kind of feel like it came true. I pick up the bin and trudge up the attic steps
one at a time. Willow follows behind me. At the top of the stairs I flick the light switch on, illuminating the cavernous space. Bins of holiday decorations and other household detritus are neatly labeled and stacked on shelves lining one wall. I move some bins to make room for the container I’m adding and as I shift things around Willow jumps up onto the shelf in the empty space. “C’mon, Willow, I need that spot,” I say as I move some boxes she disappeared behind so I can find her and lift her down. When I spot her, she’s sitting on top of a plastic file box that was shoved to the back of the shelf. It isn’t labeled, which is very unlike my mom. I slide it out and Willow hops off and rubs against my shin, purring. I lift off the lid and look inside.

  The first file folder holds a big stack of printouts of what look like spreadsheets. I skim the rest of the folders and see that they hold copies of Fields and Morris legal documents. This must have been my dad’s. A wave of melancholy rolls through me as I picture him flipping through these folders as I am now, working at home. I look more closely at the documents and the name on one of the file folders catches my eye. It’s the estate for Esther Winchester. The same file that went missing the day that I drove to the courthouse and Archie’s engine went out driving back. I forgot to ask Justin about that. I decide to close up the box and when I start to lift it I feel something heavy shift within. I take the lid off once more and push the file folders back to reveal a 5”x7” black leather hardbound book lying on the bottom of the box. I open it to see a hand-written ledger of some sort with amounts and dates and initials marking each entry. I flip through all the pages and on the last page of entries there’s a post-it note in my father’s handwriting that says simply, “Marty?”

  Marty. Maybe Martin Morris, the other law partner at the firm? Mr. Morris retired just after my father died.

  I grab a stick-on label and a black sharpie from a Ziploc bag hanging from the shelves and write “Declan’s room stuff” on the label and slap it onto my bin. I consider putting my dad’s file box back on the shelf, too, but I decide I want to look at it some more. “C’mon, Willow,” I say and she follows me down the stairs. When we get back to my room I place the box on the floor of my now-spacious closet and Willow hops on top and sits down. I take a few moments to admire my handiwork. At least now my surroundings have breathing space, even if I’m still an anxious mess inside.

  My phone rings and I follow the sound of the ringtone and manage to locate it on the floor under the large garbage bag marked “Donate.” It’s Liz.

  “Hey,” I say, answering.

  “You, me and Finn are watching movies,” Liz declares. “With Zeno. On the couch. All day. Finn just got home and he needs a distraction while Zeno recuperates.”

  I love how she just announces things, as if it’s a fait accompli.

  “Be here in ten minutes,” she adds.

  “I can’t,” I say, “I have to work at noon.”

  She groans. “All right, we’ll see you tonight then.”

  “What are you watching?”

  “I don’t know the name of it … Finn?” she calls out, not bothering to shield the phone from her mouth, “what’s the name of this movie again?”

  I hear a faint voice in the background. “What?” Liz says again, loudly.

  “He’s in the other room changing his shirt,” she says, “I can’t understand him.” Then her voice lowers to almost a whisper. “I don’t even care what movie it is, I just want to take his mind off what almost happened. Zeno’s sitting next to me on the couch now, napping.”

  “How’s he doing?” I ask. “Finn called from the vet and he said he was going to be okay.”

  “Yeah,” she says. “The vet couldn’t believe it. No major injuries. It’s like he had a guardian angel looking out for him or something. It’s a miracle.”

  My eyes well up again at the memory of him whimpering in pain until Edwin healed him with his hands. “Yeah,” I say, “it is.”

  I stuff my purse and a jacket into my backpack and throw in a couple granola bars and a bottled water. My mom’s out today showing houses again so I plan to ride my bike to work. As I’m getting ready to leave I hear the doorbell.

  I peek out the peephole before opening the door. It’s a kindly-looking man in a blue uniform holding a package.

  “Declan Jane?” he says when I open the door.

  “Yes.”

  “This is for you,” he says with a smile. He hands me a small brown package and walks away.

  I call out thank you and he raises his hand in a wave of acknowledgement and I close the door. What’s this? I turn it over and note that there’s no return address and, in fact, no address for me either. Just my name, printed neatly, on the front. I pull open the door again and look around outside for the man but now he’s gone. I don’t recall having seen a delivery truck. Maybe he was a private courier.

  My heart begins to pound. What if it’s from Avestan? But the delivery man smiled so nicely … if he was a dark guardian would he do that? A sickening feeling hits my stomach as I remember Avestan’s smile after Zeno was hit.

  Please let it be from Alexander.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The package is flat and rectangular and my hands are shaking as I tear the paper. I pause for a second, hesitating. Then, with my heart beating a ferocious rhythm of curiosity mixed with trepidation, I tear the rest of the paper off.

  Under the plain brown paper is a sealed cardboard box, and when I maneuver my fingers under the seam to tear it open I find a smaller rectangular box, wrapped in beautifully fine silver wrapping paper, and tied with an exquisite cobalt blue ribbon. I slide off the ribbon and gently ease the silver paper open with my fingers where the ends meet, trying not to tear it. Surely something this beautiful can’t be from Avestan.

  Inside is a picture frame with a notecard. I turn the frame over, so nervous I can hear my blood rushing in my ears, and when I see the photo inside, my heart swells and tears come to my eyes.

  It’s a picture of a heart and initials carved into a large, beautifully-weathered tree stump with bright beams of sun shining down in the background like a beacon from the sky. Inside the heart it says: “A.R. loves D.J. Always”

  I open the card and wipe my tears with the back of my hand so I can read the handwriting inside:

  Dearest Declan,

  Please forget about the kiss. I have. I’m not surprised someone else wanted to kiss you. I’d kiss you every minute of every day if I could.

  I admit I was hurt at first, and I can’t help thinking you’d be better off with a mortal, but upon reflection and a discussion with Edwin, I realize that you had every right. I left, and I told you to consider yourself free. Not to mention the fact that you heard about my kiss with Alenna, with no context to explain.

  I’m still waiting for Avestan. He can’t hold out much longer—his desire for revenge is too great not to follow me here. In the meantime, I’m doing good work in this corner of the world but it’s a never-ending struggle. As for Malentus, as I always say (and I imagine you’re shaking your head as you read this), I have a plan … if I need it. I have to put an end to this, one way or another, once and for all, so you can be safe.

  There aren’t any redwoods where I am, but I found what remains of this old tree in a peaceful clearing and I come here often to think of you. I feel your energy reaching me through the rays of sunlight that shine through the trees in the afternoon and it makes me smile. I carved our initials here to match what we wrote in the fairy ring in Redwood Park, but with one difference. Your present to me was “D.J. loves A.R. Always.” My present to you is my reply. It comes from the heart, just as yours did.

  I think about you every day, Declan. I won’t be able to communicate again for a while but think about me at midnight tonight, your time. I’m going to send some energy your way and I hope you feel it.

  Please know that I love you, babe.

  Always,

  Alexander

  Tears of happiness dribble onto the ca
rd and my heart lifts in a way I didn’t think possible with Alexander still gone. Did he get my letter?

  It’s not clear, perhaps he only talked with Edwin, but he understands what happened and, best of all, he loves me still and he’s coming back to me.

  My heart is soaring inside.

  Short of having Alexander home, this is the best gift I could ever imagine.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Justin looks up at me when I walk into the conference room at Fields and Morris. This is the first time we’ve seen each other since our kiss debacle. “Hi,” I say as normally as I can.

  He looks guilty. Or uncomfortable. Or both. “Declan,” he says, “listen, I’m sorry about last night. We were having such a good time—at least I thought we were, and—”

  “We were,” I say. “And it’s okay. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. But I can only be friends. I know I told you I broke up with Alexander but—”

  “Enough said,” he says, putting up his hand to cut me off. “I misread the situation.”

  He looks wounded and I feel terrible. First Ella cheats on him and now I’m rejecting him, too. I nod and a long stretch of silence follows.

  “The thing is, though,” he says, finally breaking the silence, “I’m pretty sure our friendship is doomed now … to painful awkwardness, or awkward painfulness, or one of those anyway.”

  “I don’t think so—”

  “Trust me,” he says, “it is. Unless we can somehow forget that the whole kiss thing ever happened.” He looks at me with a combination of direful and hopeful eyes.

 

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