Chapter 5
Sam sleeps the rest of the afternoon while I read. It’s peaceful and pleasant, like the calm before a storm. As the sun is setting, my grandmother calls, and I quickly grab my phone, worried the loud, slightly screechy sound of my “Walking on Sunshine” ringtone will wake my winged guest. I could have taken my time answering, though, since Sam doesn’t stir at all.
As I suspected, Grandma wants to know about the “angel situation,” as she refers to it. We interact with angels of all kinds for various reasons on a fairly regular basis, though not usually in our own homes (guardians are the exception), and certainly not in any capacity that involves nursing them back to health. It’s natural for her to be concerned and want more information.
I take the phone into the kitchen where I can talk to her without risking waking Sam, while still keeping an eye on him in case Jonathan appears. Even at his lowered vibrational level, that blade with is blood on it should have brought Jonathan here by now. I can’t help but thinking he’s just giving Sam a false sense of security at this point, ready to pounce just when Sam thinks he’s finally off the villain’s radar.
Therefore, I’m in hyper-vigilant mode as I talk, and I know Grandma hears it in my voice. She’s waiting for her perfect opening in the conversation to ask about it. I know her just as well as she knows me.
“So, tell me all about this angel you’ve taken in,” she says, just a hint of eagerness for gossip in her straight-off-the-boat Irish accent. She’s lived in America since she was 18 and still sounds exactly like the Irish farm girl she was in her youth. I can’t help but grin.
My grandmother, Beatrice Banks, is our family’s matriarch, and she relishes the role. The youngest of eight siblings, she has outlived them all, and reigns supreme over our vast family. She’s got children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces and nephews of all variations of “great” to manage. She’s also the keeper of our family’s book of angel lore; it’s a large diary with entries written by all of our angel-seeing ancestors for the past 500 years. It consists largely of the observations, conversations, and encounters with various types of angels our family has had over the centuries. Each new entry contributes to our knowledge of the species we’ve been gifted with seeing, and reminds us of what our ancestors have done for certain ones in the past. Similar hospitality or assistance would be expected of us today by those same angels.
The book is traditionally passed down to the eldest woman in each family, but since Grandma only had one older sister, and that sister only had sons, the book went to Grandma when her sister died. Since the seeing gift only passes through women, Grandma’s sister’s sons didn’t pass the gift to their own children, making the book useless to hand down their line.
As the eldest of Grandma’s three children, my mother was next in line to inherit the book. Sadly, my mom and dad were killed in a plane crash when I was 16. Grandma and Grandpa Banks raised me from that point until I went to college; my brothers were already away at school, my dad’s parents died when I was still in elementary school, and my aunts and uncles all had a ton of kids of their own to raise. But, that wasn’t the only reason I went to live with them.
I’ve been particularly close to Grandma and Grandpa Banks since childhood, since I am the one hope of Grandma’s line to not let the seer gift go extinct in it. From my birth, she felt it her personal responsibility to teach me everything about our gift, as well as how to be a good matriarch. With Mom’s passing, I was next in line in the family to inherit the angel book, too, and instructing me in being its guardian was something else that now fell to Grandma. Going to live with my Banks grandparents was the only logical choice, and one I personally approved.
“I always knew you were special,” Grandma says proudly when I explain the whole situation to her, including the superpowers the archangels think I possess. “From the day you were born, I sensed you were meant for great things, my lovely Lucy.”
“Come on, Grandma,” I say, teasingly. “Don’t all parents and grandparents think their offspring are the most special things in the world?”
“I knew,” she insists, sounding slightly offended, which I know is her way of mocking me good-naturedly. “Just like I knew your brothers were destined for great things. I just didn’t know what those things would be.”
“Grandma,” I say, dryly, “Matthew is a high school gym teacher and James sells vintage toys on the Internet for a living.”
“They just haven’t reached their full potentials yet. And they’re supporting their wives and children.”
“I think their wives are doing most of the supporting. Besides, what about your other grandchildren? Aunt Clara and Uncle Joseph have kids, too, you know.”
Four each, in fact. I have a lot of cousins. My mother was the only one of Grandma’s children to have less than four offspring. Combine us all, though and Grandma and Grandpa Banks have 11 grandchildren, not to mention the six great-grandchildren they’ve already accumulated, three of whom come from my brothers.
“All special in their own way,” she says, adamantly. “But you, Lucy, you were always meant for astounding things. I mean it.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll have to see what Grandpa has to say about it.”
“Oh, that old man doesn’t have the kind of foresight I do,” she says dismissively, but with an unmistakable touch of affection for the man we all know she still adores, even after over 50 years of marriage.
“You know this means I may be out of touch for a while,” I remind her. “And we may eventually need all the family to help with this thing. We’re talking about protecting the planet, and possibly the universe, after all.”
“You do what you have to do, my dear,” she insists. “I know your angel will protect you. He’s already promised to, and we know how honorable the Earth Angels are, except for that horrible Jonathan, of course. Not like those sneaky Messenger Angels. Hmph!”
No one knows exactly why Grandma Banks has this personal grudge against the entire Messenger Angel caste, and she won’t say. It’s one of our family’s biggest mysteries.
“Plus,” she continues, “the archangels as well as Sam sensed your power, so it must be real. You’ll figure out how to access it and use it, just as Kira said. And if you need us, we’re here. Just let us know where to go and what to do. You can count on us, sweetheart.”
“Grandma, I’m not sure putting you two in the middle of a war is the best idea. I meant the younger members of the family. Grandpa can’t see angels, anyway.”
“Don’t you dare leave us out because of our age or lack of seer abilities, Lucy McDonald! If we are needed, you tell us. We will do our part. No one will accuse the Bankses of shirking their duty just because we have a few wrinkles, and your grandfather doesn’t have the gift. He’ll fight even if his enemy is invisible to him, and he’ll take down a fair number of them, I assure you. Now promise me you’ll see we’re included if we’re needed.”
I roll my eyes. She is so stubborn. But I won’t deny her an adventure, or Grandpa either. They are both quite feisty, and deserve some excitement if they want it. I’ll just make sure they participate in a way that keeps them relatively safe. “All right, Grandma. Have it your way. You always do. Just be careful. I don’t want to lose you guys, especially when it would be on my hands.”
“It’s not on your hands at all, dear. I’m volunteering.”
“You’re insisting. And you’re insisting on Grandpa’s behalf without asking him.”
“That, too.”
Yes, that’s my grandmother. Spry, fearless, a well-known prankster, and incredibly bossy, she knows exactly what she’s doing and will brook no dissent. I know this, so I’m not even going try to argue with her.
We talk a little while longer, and Grandma promises to let the rest of the family know what’s going on. She tells me again how proud she is of me, but she doesn’t sound the least bit worried. Instead, she sounds as if I’m about to be crowned some kind of warrior queen and she is the delight
ed grandmother behind the power. I can almost hear her sharpening her sword in the background, getting ready for battle. I wonder if she actually has a sword. As agile as she’s always been, I’m convinced she must have had fencing lessons or something similar as a child. She won’t admit to anything. I think she’s been saving it as a surprise for just such an occasion as battling an angel trying to conquer the world. Well, she always said we came from a long line of warriors, back before they all hung up their armor and became farmers.
After we get off the phone, I resume my book, finish it after a while, and fall asleep in my chair, yet again, without even realizing it.
I don’t know how long I sleep, but I suspect it’s a long time, since it’s completely dark outside when Sam wakes me up, shaking me gently and whispering my name urgently in my ear.
“Lucy! Lucy, wake up!” He’s trying to not be too rough with me, but clearly wants me to get up now. I wake instantly, as I was only sleeping lightly.
“What is it?” I whisper back. I’m not sure why I’m whispering, except that he’s doing it, too.
He looks me in the eyes, his face a mask of seriousness. I sit up immediately. “Sam?” I ask, but I think I already know the answer.
“Jonathan is here,” he says, taking my arm.
It looks like our idyll is over. The war has finally made its inevitable way to my apartment. Only Sam and I are no longer in it.
Earth Angel (Angels and Seers: Book One) Page 5