by J. L. Sutton
I frowned. Not that I would ever measure her actions against other people, but it seemed like pretty strange behavior—even for her. She obviously wasn’t busy if she saw the message, with everyone safely inside today she was probably as free as I was. The only explanation I could come up with was there was a reason behind her making me wait, more than likely one that was supposed to be for my benefit. Why would she go through the effort of climbing halfway up the building and not just pop in and say why? Surely it would’ve taken less effort than writing a message back to me five stories up, in the middle of this storm.
Driven by another memory, I snapped my fingers together. By now the wind shifted direction, so I didn’t get completely drenched as I retrieved the carton. The marker slid haphazardly across the wet surface, making my handwriting even scruffier. I had to go over the letters twice before they were legible.
Is it the weather?
I shut the window carefully, confident that I guessed right. The first time Dawn was in my apartment she left just before a similar storm came in. It had to be the reason. I sat in the seat nearest to the window with my sketchpad on my lap, looking up every two minutes in anticipation to see what happened next. It seemed a little childish to be sending messages back and forth, but I was having fun with it—there was never a dull moment with Dawn.
The first few times I looked up nothing had changed, but when I stood up to get a glass of water something about the rain didn’t look right. I was halfway towards the window when I realized the heavy drops were splashing in mid-air, as if they were colliding with an invisible barrier. It took me a second to figure out it was Dawn, but as I reached for the latch the droplets began to fall normally again.
“Dawn?” I whispered, feeling pretty foolish talking to myself.
There was nothing but the soft sounds of the wind and the rain for a long moment before she replied. “Benjamin.”
It sounded like she was above me. “Why are you hiding?”
“I do not want you to see me like this,” Dawn replied meekly. Yeah, whatever she didn’t want me to see was definitely in her category of things I should be afraid of.
“Stop sitting in the rain and get inside before I come out to get you,” I said, not doubting for a moment she knew I meant it. After another long moment I heard her defeated sigh.
“Cover every single window in the house,” she warned sternly. “I will be there in a minute.”
It was an unusual request but I obeyed her without question, gently closing the window before shutting the curtains in the kitchen and my bedroom. There was just enough time to stash my sketchpad away from those midnight eyes that always seemed to notice everything when I heard her light knock at the door.
“You are impossible,” Dawn stated irritably as I opened the door, but her expression was pensive. Though she was out in the pouring rain only a few minutes ago the shirt she wore was pristine. Only her hair was still wet—she must’ve changed.
“It’s nice to see you too.” I chuckled. Her eyes darted to the window as she walked inside, making sure I did as she asked before relaxing her shoulders. “You want to tell me why we’re meeting in the dark?”
“Not really,” she called over her shoulder.
And here I thought Dawn was over trying to scare me, she didn’t even seem to hold back with her abilities around me anymore. This must be good. Then again, there’s still a lot I don’t know, a lot I may not want to know. That’s always a possibility with her. “Would you at least tell me why though?”
Her eyes purposefully avoided my gaze. “I have already told you more than I should have. I do not mind personally, but there are just some things about me I would like to withhold for as long as I can. Can you understand that?”
I think I did. Though I couldn’t explain why, and I’m sure I never would, for some unfathomable reason the beautiful, mysteriously powerful seraph standing in my living room cared what I thought about her. “I can.”
“Thank you. You know, you are quite—” Her words cut off a split second before there was a knock at my door. Dawn straightened, smiling apologetically at me before vanishing into thin air.
I rolled my eyes as I trudged to the door. Keeping a low profile was one thing, but was it really necessary to disappear like that? Sometimes she really did take things overboard. When the door opened Jennifer was standing in the hallway, easily twice as annoyed as Dawn was only a minute ago.
“Hey stranger,” I said, unable to hide the surprise in my tone. On any other day I would have been more than happy to see Jen, especially when we hadn’t spent much time together recently. The problem was that the pins and needles I felt when Dawn was close hadn’t disappeared along with her—she was still very much in the apartment.
“Thank goodness you’re home.” Jennifer sighed happily as she let herself in. Right, I almost forgot her mother was still staying with her. No wonder she looked so prickly.
“Trouble in paradise?” I smiled, trying not to think about the fact that Dawn was listening to every word of the conversation.
“That’s. Not. Funny,” Jennifer said darkly. “If I have to hear one more word about coming to visit them in Boston, I’m going to go postal.”
“To be honest, I’m surprised you lasted this long.”
She smiled conspiratorially. “I’ve been hiding at work.”
“Must’ve been pretty bad for you to choose to work,” I teased, handing her a cup of coffee.
We settled around the kitchen counter, and for the next half hour Jennifer went off on one of her trademark rants. It was easier than I would’ve thought to pay adequate attention to her with Dawn here. Then again, Jennifer was pretty difficult to ignore. More than anything she just needed someone to complain to, and I was more than happy to help.
“So what have you been up to?” Jennifer asked when she finally ran out of steam.
“Not much.” I shrugged, struggling to keep my expression neutral. If only she knew. I didn’t like lying to Jennifer, even if it was for her own good. Not that I would ever betray Dawn’s secret, but it would be nice to be able to tell my best friend, even if only to get another living person’s perspective. Both Dawn and I were in very unusual positions, half the time she seemed just as unsure about all this as I was.
“I could do with some down time right about now.” She frowned, the movement making her glasses tilt.
“You have my sympathies.” After hearing all the stories I had to agree with her, poor girl. As she adjusted her glasses her phone rang.
“Oh for the love of—” she groaned, flipping the phone open. I looked away, trying not to laugh as Jennifer attempted to convince her mother, in a joyless monotone, that she was stuck in traffic. When she finally snapped the phone shut Jennifer violently tossed it into her bag, as if at any moment it would turn into a large snake. “That woman will be the death of me.”
My eyes widened as the sip of coffee I just took caught in my throat, and I tried to cover my slip with a cough. Of all the things to startle me, that was the one my mind chose to act on? Dawn probably enjoyed the reaction immensely.
Jennifer’s shoulders slumped as we walked into the outside hallway. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.”
“Just think happy thoughts,” I said encouragingly. “It will all be over soon.”
“If only. We really should make plans sometime.”
“Definitely, I’ll call Eric and see when he’s free.”
“Okay.” Jennifer nodded enthusiastically. “See you soon.”
“Drive safe.” I waved as she turned the corner, hoping she’d make it home okay in this dreary weather.
As I closed the door I was all too aware Dawn was still in the apartment. At least Jennifer managed to go her brief visit without bringing up something I didn’t want Dawn to hear. She wasn’t the only one that cared how they were perceived, and after the whole Hyde situation I wasn’t off to a good start.
“You can come out now,” I called out.
&
nbsp; “In here.”
As I walked through the living room I felt a little self-conscious about the state of my apartment. Not that it was in bad shape, but I would’ve done more if I knew I would be expecting company. I realized it was silly for me to worry about something as trivial as my personal effects scattered about the apartment, considering how much I learnt about her already. Even though I’ve only known Dawn a short while, it felt like she already knew me too well.
A pang of unease ran through me as I entered my bedroom, it would be just my luck if she found my sketchpad, or worse. To my surprise Dawn sat on the edge of my bed with her legs crossed, head buried in one of my books from the shelf next to the nightstand. I couldn’t help marveling at her beauty as she looked up, a flawless grace in her stillness that words couldn’t quite describe.
“Hi,” she said as she tilted her head to the side, smiling in puzzlement at my blank expression.
“Sorry about that,” I recovered, returning her smile.
“Not to worry.” She shrugged innocently. “It was . . . enlightening.”
“I get the feeling you’re not going to explain that one either,” I said as I leaned against the doorframe, keeping a healthy distance from her, the way she usually did.
She shook her head playfully, closing the book before putting it down next to her. It was my well-worn copy of For Whom the Bell Tolls. “I would not have pegged you for a Hemmingway fan.”
“It was a gift,” I said absently. One of Claire’s favorites, she gave it to me the first Christmas we spent together. When I looked up I saw Dawn popping something into her mouth from her pocket. “I thought you didn’t eat?”
“I gain no sustenance from food, so I would not call it eating. But I do indulge from time to time.”
“What is it?” I asked curiously.
She smiled sheepishly. “Belladonna leaves.”
“But they’re poisonous.”
“Only to you.”
“Okay, and the store was out of hard candies?”
“Things taste differently to me. My senses are far more developed than yours. Usually it is a good thing, but most foods end up tasting like their base components. The toxic compounds inside these leaves that are so deadly to you are appealing to me because of their strength.” It was strange, the way she explained it made it sound so reasonable. I could only shrug. Pregnant women had the strangest cravings too, why not seraphim?
“What food do you miss the most?”
Dawn sighed wistfully. “Hazelnuts.”
When I thought about it, all of her abilities definitely had their uses—this one was strange though. I didn’t see much use for altered taste buds. “How much keener are your senses, exactly?”
Dawn closed her eyes, her brow furrowing in concentration. “Your neighbor three stories down is ironing his clothes. The cover of that book on the shelf is not actually purple, but rather thousands of tiny red and blue dots next to each other. Oh, and I would not drink the milk in the fridge. It is about to go bad.”
“One day you have to tell me how you do that.” I laughed nervously, feeling my earlier self-consciousness rearing. What else did she know that she wasn’t telling me?
“Trust me when I say it would be a lot better if I could turn it off. It can become very distracting, especially in the cities. Every now and then it gets to be too much and I have to take a break, disappear somewhere quiet.” Dawn smiled, slowly opening her eyes. “While we are on the subject, there is probably something else I should mention if I am going to spending more time around you. It is not just that my senses are better than yours—I also have one you do not possess.”
“I’m listening,” I said when she peeked through her hair. It was amazing how quickly I became desensitized to how different she was—the more I found out, the more I wanted to know.
“I can feel your emotions,” Dawn spoke softly, her face giving nothing away.
That, I was not expecting. I managed to keep my expression level as I turned her new admission over in my head. That’s how she always seemed to know so much about me. There was so much of myself I kept under lock and key, hidden from the world so they wouldn’t see the flaws in my armor. It wasn’t the most shocking revelation yet, and I was prepared for worse, but it did leave me feeling slightly vulnerable. Exposed. It could be worse though, at least my thoughts were still my own . . . I hoped.
“An interesting talent,” I said carefully, wanting to find out exactly how potent this gift was without asking her outright. “How does it work?”
“I see the world differently than you do. Just like my sense of taste distills things down to their bare building blocks, so does my other senses. Without even looking at you I know you are there—your steady breathing, the change in taste of the air around me, the thudding of your heart. The life running through your veins paints a detailed picture. To me, the simple biological actions humans would never notice are a shimmering billboard of shifting emotions at play.” She shifted uncomfortably. “It is impossible for me not to notice, though it does take years to learn to separate the various emotions. I can only see what you are feeling as it happens, not the reasons behind the emotions, but I do see everything.”
She looked up at me then, her head cocking to the side as her eyes found mine. I realized then why Dawn was always looking at me, watching my every reaction like it was the most engrossing film. To her it probably was. Issues with personal privacy aside that talent could definitely come in handy from time to time, especially in my line of work. I wondered why she chose to share this with me, knowing it would probably make me uncomfortable around her. It suited my summation of her character perfectly though—she would want me to know so she didn’t find out things about me I didn’t want her to know. Level the playing field between us. Dawn was honest and respectful. It was also why she didn’t mind all my questions. Without me even realizing it she gained just as much information in return.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Still, things were going to be a lot more awkward from now on. I didn’t particularly like the idea of having so much of myself revealed so easily, but it was still worth having her around. She seemed to be the exception to everything.
“Why are you never put off by me?” she asked warily. “Every time I tell you something new I think this new information will make you find me abhorrent, but you never do.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I am just trying to understand you.”
“I’ve been trying to understand myself for years. So good luck with that, sincerely.” I smiled, relaxing the stiff stance I adopted when I walked in the room. She laughed then, a carefree laugh so perfect it had me chiming in. It was difficult to be anything other than completely enthralled by her when she was like this. There was a moment of comfortable silence after that, free of tension and expectations, where she was just Dawn and I was myself.
Then her expression became solemn. “That is why I intervened the night we met. I was just sitting on the rooftop, watching the world pass by without a second thought, when you walked out of the tavern. At first I did not pay any particular attention to you. You were just another human, living your life no different from any other. I heard enough of your attackers’ conversation to know what would happen, and although it sickened me, all I could do was let it unfold. So many emotions ebbed and flowed through you as I watched you face them, a scene I witnessed many times before. Then I felt the fear in your heart, not unexpected given the circumstances, but against all odds it was not fear for yourself—it was for another. Even now I am not sure if it was a conscience choice I made to get off the rooftop. I just knew I could not stand by and watch a good person, whose thoughts were so selfless, go through that alone. Not when I could do something to help.”
Her voice was raw as the words rushed out, unbidden and unedited as if they were weighing on her heavily, waiting to spill over. I was the reason she intervened? That couldn’t be right. Dawn breaking her kind’
s laws for someone she didn’t know, someone as ordinary as me? I was at a loss for words. The way she was portraying me was far too grand, almost unbelievable.
“I think you’ve got me confused with a better man,” I said doubtfully. Hadn’t my subsequent actions shown as much? I broke into a man’s house and threatened him at knifepoint.
“I know who you are Benjamin Hadley,” Dawn said slowly, emphasizing each word. “People never give themselves enough credit. There is a strength about you that is hard to define. I have seen the pain you carry in your heart, the longing and the fear. Yet you still have hope. It is a rare quality.”
As I listened to her championing me I found myself surprised by the weight of her conviction. I don’t think I ever saw myself the way she was describing, I was just someone trying to do the best I could with what I had. Wouldn’t anyone? Still, even if I didn’t believe it I liked that she did. “I guess we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one.”
“As you wish,” Dawn said, unconcerned, “but I am still right.”
“You know, you never finished explaining something the other night,” I pointed out, trying to change the topic before I became more uncomfortable. There was no point trying to argue with her.
“And what was that?” she asked innocently.
“You told me you chose your name, but not why I don’t know the real one.”
“Indeed.” She nodded thoughtfully. “When I died and became what I am, I left my human life behind me. That is why we do not go walking around looking like ourselves—the dead walking amongst the living tends to attract notice. It becomes unnecessary after everyone you knew has passed on, but even then you have to change your appearance from time to time, or people may start to notice things. Like the fact that you never age. We—”
“—you don’t age?” I interjected, my eyes widening.
“Is it really that surprising? I am already dead after all.”
It took a moment for me to get the words out. “So you’re immortal?”
“I suppose I am, more or less. If you can look past immortal implying eternal life and then apply it to those no longer living,” she said casually, brushing it off like it was an irrelevant detail. “Now are you going to keep interrupting me, or can I finish my story that you asked me to tell?”