“We’ve discussed how they can use their powers to help others.” Draven shrugged, glad they were on the other side of the realm barrier so Alex wouldn’t hear Silas’s rapidly rising voice. “I have lied to you about nothing.”
“But you haven’t been completely honest either. You forgot to mention that demons had a little plan to wipe out free will and that we’d be helping them. They want to play with human destiny like the original Watchers did. Are you forgetting that’s why we were cursed and nearly wiped from the face of the earth?”
“No, I haven’t forgotten. I don’t intend for them to use their abilities to rule. I just want them to use their gifts for good. To build a solid alliance around Dreux and Kalyss so when Maeve comes, they aren’t completely defenseless. That’s what I intend.”
“Well, thanks for finally telling me part of your plan.”
Draven sighed tiredly. “I only try to help.”
“Yeah, but help do what?” Silas paced the hospital floor. “In trying to help, harm is often the result. I should have stuck to my original instincts and thrown you out the night we met.”
“Quit pouting, Silas. I did not force you to do anything. You’ve been a willing partner. Just because there’s more to this family than we first realized—”
“More to them? I thought they were supposed to be human!”
“They are!” Draven exclaimed, then more quietly, “Mostly.”
“They were supposed to be our good deed. Instead, we’re breaking the rules and helping the race of Nephilim grow. It was one thing when they were just unknowing descendents with a few gifts, but they not only know they have powers, their demon is still with them!”
“They have a chance to be happy and live as humans. For now, they are a broken family that desperately needs to be put back together. How can that be evil in His eyes?”
“Did you ever think that maybe there is a reason for their family to self-destruct? That it’s meant to be for more reasons than just Maeve cursing them? Or that by trying to fix them, we may be incurring the hatred of yet another powerful enemy?”
Draven paused. In all honesty, that had never been a thought. “Why would you even think that?”
“Because that’s the way it always goes for us.”
“Fine,” Draven snapped. “The situation is what it is. Adad is trapped for fear of destroying his daughter. Not only does he want the best for his family, but it speaks to his own preservation. His plans are moot. Elizabeth is too much her own person to be his puppet, so there is no battle for supremacy. No bid for world domination. He is an ally.”
Silas took a deep breath, then nodded. “I guess I can agree with that.”
“The Raineses have gifts that can best be channeled for good. As it stands now, they are at risk for heading in the other direction. Until the curse is broken.”
They were at risk, along with anyone else they came into contact with. Helping them break the curse would work to the good. Silas could support that. The other choice would be to kill them, and, Nephilim or not, that just wasn’t an option. Not children.
“Our original goal still stands. It just means the allies for Dreux and Kalyss will be even more powerful than we’d imagined. Which is good, because it will take all of us to defeat her.”
“What?” Silas’s head snapped up. “Defeat Maeve? Are you insane? What makes you imagine we could do that?”
“She should have found us by now.”
“At full strength, she would have found us.”
“Exactly. She is weak and this may be the only chance we have. Maeve was in the tunnels for nearly a millennium, Silas. She was carried out, a bundle of skin and bones. How long could you last without sustenance?” Draven turned away from him, tucking one hand deep into the sleeve of the robe. “It would have killed me.”
“It likely would have killed me, too, but she’s different. More so than either of us. When she finds us, she won’t be weak. And we haven’t been able to find her while she is.”
Suddenly a glow lit the other side of the hospital bed, interrupting their debate.
Pink, purple, green, and blue tendrils swirled in loops and curves until a form materialized across from Alex. Downy white wings surrounded the form, stretching until they nearly filled the room. Colors from the deepest depths of a mother-of-pearl shell twisted and shimmered beneath a familiar face of clear-cut crystal.
The Pearl Angel laid a color-filled hand above Mary Beth’s head and Alex’s aura burned brighter as streaks of blue lightning zapped through the glow. Jagged bolts slashed across the white expanse of his eyes. The Angel was a healer, a compassionate source of strength for those in need. The bright aura traveled around Mary Beth and back to Alex. Almost at once, he began to breathe easier.
Blazing eyes of fire focused on them and Draven couldn’t help but eye the swords the Angel carried. One was at the Angel’s side, the other across the Angel’s back and suddenly, the healing skills of the Angel paled in comparison to the other skills of God’s messengers.
The Pearl Angel raised a hand and caught Silas and Draven, holding them immobile. A voice sounded in their heads, soft and flowing like the wind through small chimes. The Angel’s eyes scorched straight through Draven. *This is a place to heal.*
That quickly, both Draven and Silas were shoved through the walls and onto a small patch of grassy lawn outside. They landed flat on their backs. Draven laid back, gasping for breath, then began to chuckle.
Silas sighed and sat up, brushing twigs and leaves from his robes. “What on earth is so funny?”
“A cursed Nephilim was right there and the Pearl Angel helped him aid someone else. For the second time. Alex wasn’t destroyed or cast from this earth for being a descendent or for using his skills. And he was helping Mary Beth. This can only mean one thing.”
“What’s that?” Silas scowled, already knowing what Draven would say.
“That I was right. We’re doing a good thing by trying to heal this family.” Draven looked at Silas, whose irritation was displayed clearly. “Go ahead. Say it. I was right.”
Silas raised his eyes to the moon above them. “You must be a woman.”
That fast, Draven’s laughter fell away and the cloak began to move in odd places, almost like snakes rubbing in a formless pile beneath the cloak. Silas stared, his face going a bit pale.
“Face it, Silas. You don’t know what I am.”
“I think we need to take it apart, Tommy.”
Elizabeth paused and looked outside before starting the washer. After two long days of work, the fence was replaced. With that task complete, there could only be one thing they were talking about.
“Is it really dangerous, sir?” Tommy croaked, still trying to imitate Geoffrey’s deep voice. They stood, in identical poses and eyed the swing set. It had been pulled from the front yard to the side of the house where they could examine it. Tommy loved that swing set. He’d probably rather cut off his arm than take it down.
Geoffrey put a hand on one end of the structure and shook the thing all too easily. “Would you risk one of the little ones on it?”
Tommy closed his eyes, his chin wavering a bit. But, his duty as man of the house was clear. Tommy took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and straightened his shoulders. Puffing out his boyish chest, he firmed his chin and shook his head. “Nope. Gotta protect the little ones.”
Geoffrey lifted his screwdriver. “Ready to bring it down?”
Tommy raised a matching screwdriver from the new tool belt at his waist, a weapon no one had ever dared place in his hands before. Unholy glee brightened the light of destruction in his eyes. “Oh, yeah.”
Elizabeth chuckled, started the wash, and headed back to the living room. Her laundry system was working well. She’d even gotten the kids to bring down the rest of their clothes and clean their rooms. Hopefully soon they could do some repainting upstairs. She wanted to do something to brighten the place up. The kids deserved to grow up in surroundings that were
n’t more depressing than their circumstances.
She’d developed a system over the last few days, working on the computer early in the morning and after the kids went to bed. She worked best with complete peace and quiet, and that only happened when the kids were comatose.
In just the last two days she’d fixed at least one thing in her mind—how Geoffrey’s electronic library would look. Normally, visualizing something so extensive would have taken her forever, but after what had happened on Sunday with Shelly, she’d decided to test her new daydreaming ability.
No one else had ever mentioned hearing her thoughts and feelings while she was daydreaming. So how did Shelly hear them?
Elizabeth scrubbed the fireplace and decided right then, it didn’t matter how Shelly had known. Daydreaming about her project was far preferable to living in the moment as she scrubbed away years of dirt.
Elizabeth built the dream, picturing the tunnel—which was all too easy—and stepping away from her body. In her mind, she stood before a steel door with familiar dents. When she entered the cavern beyond, the light was soft, meant to illuminate without blinding. In the center stood a small podium with a simple control panel with a search bar, directional pad, and options for bookmarking, highlighting, compiling, and more.
Shelves rose from floor to ceiling, circling around so there were no corners, only alcoves filled with distinctive classical statuary and stained-glass windows to mark the division of the subjects. A person could stand in the midst of the room, and view from every angle modern paperbacks, classic hardbacks, ancient manuscripts covered in leather and precious stones, and tubes of scrolls made from various precious metals.
It was designed so that each set of shelves held a different subject. Each book was distinctive in both style and color. A person could remember where they’d found the information they sought, even if they didn’t have the words for a detailed search.
At the top of the podium was a green book, its script distinctive and flowing. The spine marked it as a version of the Bible. Opening the book revealed a file and displayed the table of contents with links to subjects within each chapter. Flipping to one page at random, she highlighted text, pushed a button to copy it, and placed it in the empty notebook on the podium. More empty notebooks were stacked inside the podium, each awaiting a subject label on the spine.
This would be the basics of the program, with more fine-tuning to come later. Geoffrey would be comfortable with the layout. Color, placement, and direction would put thousands of titles at his fingertips. The control panel on the podium would search for and locate any topic, and he’d have savable and searchable notebooks to follow his train of thought. She could add sounds easily, and texture could perhaps become a visual pattern that lent the impression of actual parchment or leather. That only left taste and smell.
Perhaps symbols of well-known foods and natural scents. But how could she get more specific without placing an aromatherapy set beside his computer? Here, Geoffrey, dab a bit of this on and you’re well on your way to researching Angels.
Elizabeth laughed, shaking her head. Generally, anything too complicated was a bad idea. It wouldn’t be user-friendly, and that was the first rule of creating software. Make sure people can use it. Well, that, and make sure the computer operating it could handle such a large program.
“Don’t worry about the space.”
Elizabeth jumped back a step as Geoffrey moved up beside her and examined the controls. She wasn’t asleep. He wasn’t asleep. Like Shelly, she’d drawn him into her daydream. Elizabeth swallowed and stared at him with wide eyes, her heart in her throat.
“I’ll make sure I have enough memory to handle this.” Geoffrey looked around them, examining the artwork and texts. “This is exactly what I want.”
Part of her was happy, relieved. Selling a project was often the difficult part.
His blue-grey gaze landed on her face with a weight she could almost feel. “You certainly have a unique sales approach.”
Elizabeth licked her lips nervously. How was he taking this so calmly? “I didn’t mean to bring you here like this.”
He nodded. “Sudden boosts in skills can be disorienting until we learn to control them.”
“We?”
Geoffrey didn’t answer. Instead, he walked to the door and put his hand on the knob. When he looked back, she nodded in answer to his silent question. Geoffrey opened the door and the dream library dissolved. With one last glance at her, he said, “Talk to Alex.”
His tone held no censure, no anger, but she could recognize a command when she heard one. Talk to Alex, or he would. The front door clicked shut behind him and Elizabeth stood still, struggling to understand what had just happened.
“The bathrooms are clean.” Shelly collapsed onto the large cushiony chair, flopping her arms over the sides.
Arranging the last clutter-filled box so it didn’t overflow, Elizabeth paused to grin at her. “Thank you. Four working, clean bathrooms. It’s better than chocolate.”
Shelly snorted. “Speak for yourself. I’d rather have chocolate.”
Elizabeth hauled the box to the kitchen and set it by the door to the basement, then grabbed a dust rag and polish. Her mother had loved everything ever given to her. So she’d kept it on every available flat space in the living room. Thirty years of childhood art and knickknacks. It had been past time for them to go, even if they only moved to the basement.
Giving Elizabeth busywork while considering how to spill her secrets to Alex was only a side benefit. Nerves cramped her stomach anyway. The men were gone at the moment, but she would have to tell Alex when he returned. Elizabeth sprayed polish over the coffee table and wiped at it with brisk strokes.
“You know there’s no more room down there, right?”
“Don’t worry. I won’t let the boxes spill over into your room.”
“They already have. Between all the junk from your old room and the stuff from here, the storage half of the basement filled up a while ago.”
Elizabeth frowned and scrubbed at a stubborn stain on the cherry wood coffee table. “I’ll go through it and get rid of a bunch soon, honey. I promise. I just wanted to get the main areas of the house liveable first.”
“I know. It’s okay.” Shelly swung sideways so her head rested on one arm of the chair and her legs bounced on the other side. “It really looks great in here.”
The spot finally gone, Elizabeth stood and surveyed her handiwork. The overstuffed couch was against the large window overlooking the porch. A matching loveseat sat adjacent on the right, a thin walkway from the front door to the kitchen behind it. And the chair holding Shelly faced the couch.
The tables at each end of the couch were bare of all but lamps and shiny clean. The mantle over the fireplace was bare of decades-worth of dust and clutter, holding only the most precious of her mother’s treasures. Even the fireplace was clean of ash and soot.
Behind Shelly’s chair, on the wall shared with the kitchen, was a large TV in an entertainment center/ bookcase. Two beanbags were placed directly in front of it for the kids to play games. When everyone was ready to watch movies, only the chair would need to be moved to the side.
It was a good arrangement for visiting, game playing, or a combination of the two. With various pillow accents and the clean curtains opened to let in the sunshine, the living room was cozy, warm, and somehow spaciously inviting. Pride swelled in Elizabeth’s chest and she had to agree with Shelly. It did look good.
“I could never have done it without the guys keeping all the kids outside and at the dojo.”
“Or without me in here to haul boxes and clean bathrooms,” the teen pointed out with an arched brow.
“Yes! Yes. I know.” Elizabeth sighed in exaggerated appreciation. “You are all that is wonderful and gracious. Such a gift to everyone in this house. We give thanks to the beauty that is you.”
Shelly buffed her nails on her shirt and sniffed. “I know.”
Elizab
eth laughed and did her own collapsing on the couch.
But it was the quietest moment she’d have for a long while. She had to take her chance. “I want to give my old room to the toddlers. Let them spread out and have room to play with their toys.”
Shelly nodded. “Danielle will like sharing with David again.”
“Yeah, we could do that. But I was thinking she could share with you, instead. Keep girls with girls. She’ll need that in a few years.”
Shelly let out a snort. In an irritated voice she snapped, “Where would she go? There’s no more room in the basement.”
“Well, if the baby was moved upstairs—”
“Forget it.” Shelly sat up and crossed her arms, glaring mutinously. “I take care of Veronica just fine. She doesn’t need to be moved.”
“You need to have a good night’s sleep for school—”
“We have a schedule. We go to bed, she sleeps most of the night, and wakes me up in plenty of time to get ready for school.”
“I won’t neglect her, Shelly. You know that.”
“And when you’re gone? Can you guarantee the next adult to take care of us won’t get irritated with her and start shaking her in the middle of the night?” Shelly’s voice was hard, deepening in genuine anger. “Because I’ve already caught one of Grandma’s old boyfriends doing that, Aunt Beth.”
Nausea raised the flesh on her arms and Elizabeth stared at the table in front of her. “I didn’t know.”
“That’s why Veronica stays with me.”
Elizabeth nodded, then leaned forward and stared straight into Shelly’s eyes. “I understand your concerns. You have a right to be worried, I know that. But I’d like you to think about it, Shelly. I think I’ve earned your trust.”
Shelly stared at her shoes.
“Let me give you this break. And if I ever leave, you can take her back downstairs with you.” Elizabeth shook her head. “Or hell, Shelly, take Grandma’s room and make the next adult sleep in the basement. You probably deserve it.”
Shelly smiled, her eyes sparkling as she looked through her lashes at Elizabeth. “Actually, I do, you know.”
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