by Paula Weston
‘I’m not freaking out,’ Jude says, but he packs up the laptop and heads for the door anyway. ‘Come on. We’ll go next door.’
Maria places pillows around Dani. She looks tiny in the middle of the mattress. On impulse, I kneel on the doona and give her a quick hug. She’s shaking.
‘Are you sure you’re okay to do this?’
Dani nods.
‘What is it?’ I feel everyone else in the room go still.
She rubs her nose with the back of her hand—such a child-like gesture—and then meets my eyes. ‘I tried to see Rafa before Jason came to get us. I only had a glimpse…’
‘How bad was it?’
‘Bad.’
Her pale face blurs, then sharpens.
‘And Taya?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘What else? Please, Dani.’
‘He’s afraid.’
My insides are all scooped out. ‘Of course he is—’
‘He’s afraid you’re going to try and rescue him.’
‘Why?’ I whisper.
She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to see me. ‘He’s terrified of what Bel and Zarael will do to you if you do.’
STORM ON THE HORIZON
‘What are you thinking?’ Jude asks as soon as he shuts my door.
I don’t answer. I’m still trying to get my head around Dani’s words. Maggie leaves her suitcase by the wardrobe and goes to Jason, sitting on the edge of the desk. She stands between his knees and hugs him. He puts his arms around her and she rests her cheek on his head. Talks to him quietly. Their gentle intimacy brings an ache deep in my chest.
‘Gaby,’ Jude says, firmer. ‘Talk to me.’
‘I’m not staying away from that house because Rafa doesn’t want me to get hurt.’ I don’t look at him.
‘Nobody’s asking you to.’
I need to move. I walk to the bathroom and back again. Eight steps. I need eight thousand: I need to run. Rafa’s been in that room now for four hours. I try not to think about him being afraid. It’s like drowning: too much panic; too little air. A terrifying weight pressing down on me.
Jude blocks me on my third lap. ‘Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.’
I try to move around him but he grabs my arm.
‘Promise me you won’t go without me,’ I say.
‘Gaby, whatever is coming, we’ll face it together.’
‘And what am I supposed to do while we wait for Dani?’
He nods at the desk. ‘Help me work out if there’s anything useful on the computer.’
‘There’s nothing on there except generic research on angels and demons and a handful of bookmarked websites for surf beaches. And one photo of me, asleep in a hammock. Nothing to help us get inside that room.’
Maggie and Jason move away from the desk so Jude can set up. Maggie is watching me, worried.
‘I’m okay,’ I say, before she can ask. And then I remember that my best friend just met a fallen angel and involuntarily joined a dysfunctional community of half-angel bastards. ‘How are you?’
A strained smile. ‘Okay, I think.’
‘I can’t believe Nathaniel pulled that stunt in the library.’
Jason makes a quiet noise of disgust and turns away, looks at Jude’s screen over his shoulder.
‘It was amazing though, right? Those wings…so beautiful.’ Maggie lifts her fingers like she’s drawing them.
‘Yeah, and if Jason hadn’t protected you, you probably wouldn’t be here to admire them.’
Her hand drops to her side. ‘Okay, so they’re also a little terrifying.’ She takes a moment to consider the room. ‘This place is so not what I imagined. What’s with all the beige? Would it be that hard to add a couple of throw pillows? Any colour would work in here.’
I smile. She can’t help herself. In Maggie’s world, everything can be made better with colour. Just having her around settles my pulse. It’s selfish, but I’m glad she’s here.
Maggie opens the curtains and her eyes track from the piazza to the mountains. ‘I can’t believe I’m in Italy.’
I give her a moment to absorb it. My thoughts automatically slip back to Rafa and Dani, and what’s happening in the next room. And then I see the notebook and album from the storage room on the bedside table. Daisy must have gone back for them after the brawl.
‘What are those?’ Maggie asks.
I hand the album to her and she opens it to the second page, to the photo of Rafa and me. ‘Oh, wow…’
I reposition the pillows on the bed, plump them harder than necessary. Listen to the sound of the plastic-covered pages turning. I can’t bear to see Rafa smiling and cocky. What if I never see that again? What if—
‘Remind me who’s who again,’ Maggie says. I can’t tell if she really needs the refresher or if she’s trying to distract me. But I sit with her, take a steadying breath and point out everyone I know. I don’t bother with Taya or Malachi: she knows them well enough after their time together in Pan Beach.
‘Is that Micah?’ She taps a photo of him grinning with a bottle cap stuck in the middle of his forehead. She doesn’t seem traumatised to see him: further proof he looked out for her at the cabin last week. ‘You guys laughed a lot back then.’
‘There’s not a lot of that going on these days.’
Maggie sits sideways so she’s facing me. ‘How are you—honestly?’
I close my eyes for a moment, try to find the words. ‘Have you ever had the best and worst things in your life happen on the same day?’
‘No, Gaby. I haven’t. And I can’t imagine how screwed up that must feel. Finding Jude, seeing Rafa hurt…’
‘This place doesn’t help. I’m trying to get everyone on the same page, but just being here is enough to almost start a brawl everywhere I go.’
‘Not just you, princess,’ Jude says from the desk. ‘Both of us.’
‘Yeah, but you’ve got the Outcasts on your side.’
‘They’re on yours too.’ He says it carefully.
‘As long as I make decisions they agree with.’
‘You think that applies only to you? This loyalty they’re showing me, that’s all about who I used to be. I don’t know how far it would go if I went against them.’
‘But you’re not going to go against them, are you?’
‘Not as long as they’re supporting our plan to get Rafa and Taya.’ He rests his arm on the back of his chair. ‘Gaby, this isn’t about them versus you. There’s no contest. It’s you.’
‘Jude—’
‘I don’t care what happened a decade ago,’ he says. ‘Don’t make me keep saying it.’
I sigh. ‘Anything useful on the laptop?’
‘There’s research on angel and demon hierarchy. Mostly to do with archangels, especially Michael and Gabriel.’
‘What’s so special about those two?’
Jude turns back to the computer and rubs his jaw. He needs a shave. ‘Michael is the Captain of the Angelic Garrison. If anyone’s giving orders to Nathaniel about what we should or shouldn’t be doing, you’d think it would be him.’
‘And Gabriel?’
‘One of his lieutenants. Supposedly more compassionate than the others.’ He turns the laptop so I can see the screen. On it is a document with two columns. One says Michael – retributive. The other, Gabriel – restorative. Under each is a list of books, articles and documents.
‘What does that mean?’
‘No idea. But all these bits and pieces—there must be a reason I kept them. They have to make sense at some point.’
God, I hope so. I’m so tired of being undone. ‘What now?’
Jude stretches his neck from shoulder to shoulder. He’s restless. ‘You said Rafa started to teach you how to shift. Let’s give it go.’
‘Now?’ I have a momentary stab of panic, remember the one and only time I almost shifted on my own. That terrifying sensation of being sucked into a vortex—and the sickening feeling that foll
owed when it didn’t work. ‘But I didn’t shift. Not really.’
‘You came close, though, right? And Jase here can give us some pointers, can’t you, buddy?’
Jason straightens from the desk. ‘What about Dani?’
‘What about her? You’ll still be here.’ To me: ‘What happened when you tried it with Rafa?’
‘I face-planted the concrete.’ I touch my cheek and remember the jarring, the blood. Stars wheeling. ‘But before that, I felt the pull. Rafa says I disappeared for a second…’
‘How? What did you do?’
‘We were in a park. Rafa got me to think about everything I could see and hear and smell where I was standing. Then I walked down the hill and he told me to imagine myself back at that exact spot.’
‘That’s it?’
‘Ah, no. That didn’t work, which is when he told me the Rephaim actually pass into another dimension when they shift.’
Jude blinks. ‘They what?’
‘It kind of makes sense. We’re not flying when we travel—otherwise we’d be smashing into stuff all the time. We disappear from one place and appear in another. We have to still exist somewhere.’
‘Fuck.’
‘Rafa said nobody’s ever been stuck there, wherever “there” is. We used to do this all the time, so maybe it will be like it is with fighting: our bodies will remember what to do.’
‘You don’t look convinced.’
‘Yeah, well, that first attempt scared the shit out of me.’
Jason rubs the back of his neck. ‘Rafa had the right idea. Your first shift needs to be short, and to somewhere you’re familiar with. This blind shifting everyone else does…it’s beyond my skills.’
Jude moves away from the desk, flexes his fingers. ‘Why’s it so intense?’
‘Wherever we go—whatever that place is—it’s like being sucked into a tornado,’ Jason says. ‘When you taught me, you told me to stay on the edges of it. It took a bit of practice, but I got there. I didn’t realise there were other ways to do it until I shifted here with Rafa last week to get Gaby. He doesn’t protect himself from whatever is on the other side.’ Jason glances from Jude to me. ‘Maybe you two didn’t either.’
‘Like, extreme shifting?’ Jude asks.
A shrug. ‘Possibly. But that’s not what you’re going to try now. Whose room is next door?’
‘Zak and Ez’s.’
‘Right. You’re going to shift from there back to here, and you’re going to stay out of the chaos.’
We spend a minute taking in the sounds, smell and layout of my room and walk next door. Maggie stays behind and pulls out wool and knitting needles from her suitcase. Jason positions himself in the hallway so he can see inside both rooms.
‘When you feel the pull you have to give in to it and then take control again almost immediately,’ he says. ‘It’s like being swept down a river with a safety rail within reach: you have to get in the river before you can reach the rail. Your mind’s the rail. Stay focused on where you want to get to.’
Jude and I stand about a metre apart in the middle of Ez and Zak’s room, side by side.
‘Same time?’ Jude says to me.
‘You worried I might go first and throw you off your game? You are so competitive.’
I get a quick grin. We both take a moment to ground ourselves and then Jude turns back to me. ‘If we can do this, nobody else needs to know.’ I nod. The idea of Jude and me keeping something from the rest of the Rephaim is oddly comforting.
‘We’re going to your room. Nowhere else.’
‘Okay.’ I close my eyes. Take a slow, calming breath. Hear Jude do the same. What if he goes first?
You’re thinking too much.
My heart squeezes at the memory of Rafa’s words in the park. It’s an effort but I push away thoughts of Jude and Jason. Of Dani and Maggie. Even Rafa. I picture the room next door. The window, the desk, the bed. The smell of Maggie’s Chanel No. 5. Then I imagine the curtain I need to step behind to get into that icy chaos.
I feel the drag almost immediately. It’s even more ferocious than in the park, as if whatever is on the other side knows it’s got me this time. Pressure builds in my head, in my chest. My heart is about to explode. It’s freezing. I’m stretching, compressing, turning inside out. Shit, shit… Focus on the room. The room. The—
COLOURS BLEED TOGETHER
The pressure is gone so suddenly and so completely it leaves me dizzy. I’m swamped with new sensations: warmth, the sound of a guitar, the smell of woodsy aftershave.
The guitar stops abruptly.
‘It’s polite to knock.’
I spin around and have to reach out to keep my balance, find a wall. I’m still inside out. Micah is sitting on the edge of a bed with an acoustic guitar. His blond hair spikes in all directions.
I’m disoriented, drunk. ‘Where am I?’
He gives me a pointed look.
It’s a room like others I’ve been in here, but this one is well and truly lived in. A desk covered in loose sheet music; a tallboy with two drawers half open, socks and t-shirts hanging over the ends; two electric guitars propped in stands either side of a small amplifier; a bedside table with an empty beer bottle. Stray guitar picks on the floor, along with an assortment of boots and runners. The bathroom door is open, wet towel on the floor; two katanas and a poleaxe against the wall near the door. The only thing that doesn’t quite fit is the painting over his bed: a woman with mocha hair, her soft watercolours leaching into each other.
‘Your room?’
‘Bingo.’ Micah rests his arm on the top of the guitar. ‘You want to take a seat before you fall down?’
I nod, crumple to the carpet. ‘First proper shift on my own.’ I cross my legs, lean back against a drawer sticking out from the tall boy. Smell fabric softener. ‘Holy shit. I did it.’
‘Congratulations.’ He shoves clothes from his bed to the carpet to make room for me but I’m not ready to get off the floor. ‘Were you aiming for my room?’
I shake my head, ride a wave of nausea.
My phone rings and I fumble with it before my fingers work. ‘I’m okay, I’m okay. Did you—’
‘Yes!’ Jude’s buzzing. Of course he could shift properly first time. I hear him grinning through the phone.
‘Where are you?’
‘Where I’m meant to be. Where the hell are you?’
I shoot Micah an embarrassed look. ‘Micah’s room.’
‘What’s that about?’
‘No idea.’ I glance at Micah, still watching me from the bed. ‘Everyone okay there?’
‘Yeah, we’re good.’
‘Okay. Give me a minute and I’ll head back.’ I pause. ‘On foot.’
I hang up and take another look around, slower this time. There’s an ordered chaos to the stacks of CDs, books and clothes. ‘Why do you think I ended up here?’
Micah shrugs. ‘You used to hang out here a bit, listen to me butcher songs.’ He runs his palm over the worn guitar. ‘Especially after you hooked up with Daniel.’
‘That was Gabe, not me.’
I still can’t imagine being that person; being with Daniel. But I can picture myself sitting on Micah’s carpet listening to him play, so I guess Gabe and I have that in common.
‘Did you and Jude get along…you know, before he left?’
‘Yeah, of course. Although we had some epic arguments over music.’ Micah smiles at the memory. ‘He was always banging on about bone-crunching rock. He didn’t care about musicianship, only that a wall of noise hit him in the chest. I, on the other hand, appreciate technical skill, even if I have none myself.’
‘Were you surprised when he walked away from’—I catch myself before I say me—‘the Sanctuary?’
‘Like I said, he had to in the end: he pushed Nathaniel too far.’ Micah lifts the guitar from his lap, rests it against the bed. ‘That’s when everything turned to crap. Nobody knew how to deal with him and the others being gone, includi
ng you. Especially you. It was like you didn’t know how to relax without Jude and Rafa. And it wasn’t just about them: you were tight with Ez and Zak and Jones. We all were. Daisy was a mess for a year.’
There’s so much history between the Rephaim and me. Maybe Mya’s right to be angry that I don’t remember any of it.
‘Everyone kept waiting for you to go too,’ Micah says, when I don’t speak. ‘I think that’s half the reason you hooked up with Daniel in the end—to reassure the rest of us you were staying. Don’t look at me like that, he’s not a total tool. You would never have been with him if he was—you didn’t care about us that much.’ He gives me a crooked smile. ‘Daniel’s straight down the line. He takes everything seriously, but he’s the smartest guy here and you liked that he saw you as more than a soldier.’
‘Then why did I hang out in here so much?’
Micah stretches out his long legs, crosses them at the ankles. ‘You still needed to laugh occasionally.’ He studies me. Reads me. ‘For what it’s worth, I think he was in love with you, or as close to it as Daniel can be. I’m not saying he was the love of your life, but you were happy enough with him.’
‘I told you that, did I?’
‘As a matter of fact you did. We had a lot of deep and meaningful chats in this room. Me sitting here with a guitar, you down there keeping the wine topped up. Once we started to have serious run-ins with the Outcasts, it was obvious you were never joining them. Some of the fights you had with Rafa…’ Micah checks my reaction, lets it drop. ‘You were doing okay for a while. And then the Rhythm Palace happened, and Ez’s injuries. When you heard the news…I’ve never seen you like it. You tore the gym apart. You couldn’t go to Ez. You thought Mya was going to get them all killed and that Jude couldn’t see the danger. Nobody could get near you. Not Daisy. Not me. Certainly not Daniel. Everything you’d been repressing for all those years came out: you blamed yourself for letting Jude go, blamed yourself for what happened to Ez. That was the start of the downward slide with Daniel, even if it took another year or so before you finally ended it.’
‘And then what?’