A God to Fear (Thorn Saga Book 5) (6 page)

A bit embarrassed, Thorn wiped the moisture from his eyes. “I’m just so happy to see you.” His voice trembled. His sinuses felt heavy. What was all this? This was new. “I’ve come through Hell and back to see you again. I can’t believe you remember me after you’ve only seen me these few times.”

“Well that’s what you told me to do, right?” Amy said, wiping away a tear that Thorn had missed. “In Heaven? To remember you.”

Thorn laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I did say that.”

“I feel like I’ve known you for a lot longer though. Who are you?”

The question brought Thorn back down to earth. He didn’t know how to answer it.
I love you
, he wanted to say.
I’ve loved you for a long time now.
But instead he merely asked, “Is Shelley okay?”

“Shelley’s just heard a very,
very
weird conversation,” Shelley said from the door behind them. “So I’m not sure if Shelley is okay or not.”

Thick gauze was wrapped around Amy’s best friend’s head, covering the wound that Garrett had dealt with his crowbar. Thorn smiled at her presence. “Shelley, hi. I hope your head’s okay.”

“Don’t worry, my head’s never been okay. But uh, who are you?”

“A friend.” Thorn rose and offered a handshake. Unlike Lexa, Shelley accepted. “I’ve known Amy for a long time.”

“So you heard what happened to us?”

“Who in Atlanta hasn’t by now? Amy’s quite the hero.”

Amy playfully waved him away, but Shelley approached the bed. “See Ames, I knew you had some fight in you. Even now. It’s only been one day and you look… well, you look pale and kind of stoned, but I can tell you’re doing good. I’m supposed to be in bed a few doors down, but I figured we could hang out while we’re both stuck here. My sister brought me some board games, or boring games, whichever name you prefer. But they beat staring at the ceiling and comforting concerned relatives. I can move your pieces for you.”

“That sounds great.”

“Cool. I’ll see if the doctors will give me some Valium so we can have a fair game.”

Thorn had ambled to the door to check the hallway for demons again, and when he briefly turned back, he saw that Shelley had caught him at it. He smirked sheepishly at her, hoping she’d ignore his conspicuous actions.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name,” she said.

“Heather!” Thorn called when he noticed Brandon’s wife standing by a vending machine in the hallway.

Still wearing her blue dress from the wedding reception, Heather glanced at the space around her, as if another Heather might have been standing nearby, then pointed to herself. “Me?” she said. Thorn waved her over to him.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a ‘Heather,’” Shelley said to Thorn. “I’d love to ask your parents about that.”

As Heather paced closer, her eyes lit with recognition. “You! You’re the guy who yelled for me to run, back in Virginia. What the hell is happening? Who are you?”

This being the third time in the past two minutes that Thorn had been asked that question, he felt obliged to offer at least a partial answer. “I’m Virgil,” he said. “Or, well, I’m the one who’s been posing as Virgil.”

Heather studied his face. “You do look kind of like him, but… what do you mean?”

Thorn sighed.
I’ve been putting off telling her the truth for long enough, and I won’t get much further if I don’t tell her now. Maybe this is finally the time.

“Come in here.” He motioned for her to enter the room, and she obliged. “How’s Brandon?”

“Uh, they say he’ll heal up fine. The head wound’s superficial, but his arm will need a cast, and they’re gonna move him up here for a few days so he can recover. I just came up to see his room.”

“I’m glad he’ll be okay.”

“Me too,” Shelley said. “Who is he?”

“Heather’s husband. He was in an accident. Heather, this is Shelley. And on the bed is my char—my friend, Amy.”

They exchanged greetings, then sat around Amy’s bed and waited for Thorn to speak. He hesitated. He disliked having to open himself up like this, especially when a doctor or a demon could enter the room at any moment. “What I’m about to tell the three of you is going to sound absurd. Completely absurd. Afterward, you may label me a raving madman, but I must tell you this, both because I owe all three of you some answers, and because I need your help. Please take me seriously. I badly need you to.”

And then he told them. He told them that his name was Thorn. He told them about angels and demons, about the billions of years he’d spent on Earth and the lies he’d believed and help spread during that time. He told them about Constantine and Flying Owl, and Xeres and Thilial, and God’s dubious plans for humanity and for demonkind. He told them about Wanderer’s scheming, and that Heather and Brandon were the keys to convincing God and demons to finally have an honest conversation with each other. He admitted that he’d used Virgil’s body to manipulate Heather and the other humans. He even told them that he only wanted to live a peaceful life away from all this conflict, but that such a life was impossible while everyone was trying to kill him.

He didn’t tell them everything. Somehow he couldn’t quite manage to fit Marcus into his story, or his own role in the Christmas Eve shooting. He needed to paint himself in a positive light so that these people would listen to him. When it came time to explain the Sanctuaries, and that Heather and Brandon’s former lives no longer existed on Earth—except in their memories—Thorn almost skipped that part as well. But Heather needed to know it so that she wouldn’t try anything rash, like driving all the way to Virginia from here. So Thorn told her the hard truth that she hadn’t existed in her current form before tonight.

When he finished, a deep quiet settled over the room. The instruments monitoring Amy’s health continued to whir and beep, but the light foot traffic in the hallway outside grew more noticeable, and no one in the room moved or spoke for a long time.

Heather was the first to break the silence. “For many years I’ve considered myself to be a rational person, and I’ve felt sorry for people who believe things without solid support for those beliefs—support based on evidence and logic. I’ve felt sorry for people who ignored any counterevidence to their cherished beliefs, for people who treated that counterevidence as lunacy or conspiracy. I always thought that humanity would be better, and would grow exponentially greater if we could set aside these myths and superstitions of angels above us, of devils whispering in our ears. And of a reward in Heaven no matter how evil believers are, or of torture in Hell no matter how good nonbelievers are. I always thought such things were childish to believe, and I always thought that I was above them.

“There’s something that scientists say: extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. And tonight, Thorn, you’ve shown me extraordinary evidence.” She reached across Amy’s bed, placed her hand on top of Thorn’s, and looked straight into his eyes. “I believe you.”

Thorn exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “That’s all it takes?”

“That’s all it takes. For now. I’ll want to learn about the world you come from in a lot more detail when I get the time. Imagine if scientists were able to access it. Imagine what we could learn.”

Thorn turned to Amy, who nodded her acceptance as well. Then he turned to Shelley, who rolled her head as if stretching her neck muscles.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Amy, you trust this guy?”

“He’s telling the truth,” Amy said. “He’s been trying to keep me safe. Everything he’s saying, I’ve seen it all for myself. And that’s before I was on meds.” She grinned a loopy smile.

Shelley dithered, avoiding eye contact. “All right, whatever floats y’all’s boat. I guess I’ll play along. But you said you needed our help? What exactly does that call for?”

“I can’t stay here,” Thorn said. “Sooner or later, my enemies will think to search for me near Amy. They know I care about her, so I’m going to leave you alone, Amy, until all this is over.”

Amy nodded, although she seemed a bit saddened by this.

“Heather, you and Brandon must avoid her, too. And as soon as Brandon gets his treatment, you need to flee the hospital. Don’t check out, don’t pay, just run. Blend in with a crowd and get away from here.”

“Okay, sure. But won’t these… won’t these ‘demons’ track us down, too?”

“They will, yes. But only stupid ones, most likely. There are only a few demons in the city who know how important you two are, and they won’t know where you are even if other demons do. As long as you don’t do anything to advertise your location, that is. And as long as you don’t talk about anything I’ve said here tonight, even alone with each other.”

“Works for me. But where can we hide?”

Thorn turned to the injured girl on the bed. “Amy and Shelley, that’s where you come in. Can we borrow some money for a hotel room?”

The girls exchanged glances. “Sorry man,” Shelley said, shaking her head. “My account is at zero. Well, negative eight thousand if you factor in student loans.”

“I’m broke too,” Amy said. “I owe Lexa a whole bunch of money. And my mom doesn’t have any.”

“It’s okay, I have money,” Heather said.

“Cash?” Thorn asked.

“No, I have my card.”

“Your cards won’t work outside the Sanctuary. But Amy, you’ll be in the hospital for a while, and I imagine your mom will want to stay here with you, at least for the next few days.”

Amy seemed to mull this over for a moment, then said, “I don’t know about that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Amy’s mom isn’t exactly Maria von Trapp,” Shelley said. “She’ll probably go out partying the first chance she gets.”

“Right, I know. But I need a place for Heather and Brandon to stay, just for a day. I hope that’s all the time I need. Amy, would it be okay if they stay in your apartment?”

“Um, yeah, that’s fine with me. But why not Shelley’s place?”

“She has a big family and the house won’t be empty. I hate to ask this of you in your current condition, but do you think you can keep your mom away from your apartment for a day?”

“Sure thing.”

“Good. It’s not a perfect hiding spot, but it’ll buy us some time. Heather, you and Brandon go to Amy’s and stay there. If I haven’t contacted you after a day, leave. My enemies will eventually think to look for you there.”

“Works for me,” Heather said. “We’ll just need directions. And I have some limited medical experience, so I should be able to look after Brandon. You’ll definitely come for us there when you’re done with whatever you have to do?”

“Yes,” Thorn said. “And don’t let anyone in besides me.”

“Should we have some kind of secret knock or password?”

“Good idea. What should the password be?”

“Antidisestablishmentarianism,” Shelley offered.

“No,” Thorn said.

“Karen,” Heather suddenly said. “Did Karen make it out? What about my dad?”

Thorn gently gripped her hand. “Don’t worry about anyone you lost in the Sanctuary. They’re all fine, but they’re still stuck under God’s control. If I’m successful, they might all be freed.”

Heather nodded, her relief palpable. “How about we use ‘Karen’ as a password then?”

“‘Karen’ it is,” Thorn said. “Let’s move.”

He stood, and the others followed. Amy provided the keys to her mom’s apartment, and the group said its farewells. Shelley left to grab some board games for Amy. Thorn wanted to kiss Amy on the forehead, but thought better of it. He was still her demon, her protector. The time for closeness would be later, if ever.

As Heather was heading out, back toward Brandon, she stopped next to the door. “Thorn, can I ask you a question?”

“You may.”

“Did you ever know a girl named Crystal?”

Thorn stepped back in surprise. “Yes, I did.”

“Is she okay?”

How fascinating.
Could it be possible that Heather was remembering her lives from previous Sanctuaries? Thorn supposed it was just another quirk of the system—yet another small imperfection that God had overlooked.

“She is okay,” Thorn said. “Cole, too.”

Heather smiled a pure, gleeful smile. She nodded to herself, then left the room.

Thorn ambled back toward Amy, but saw that she’d fallen asleep. So he walked to a window, amazing himself yet again that he instinctually knew how to walk—not to mention how to breathe and speak—in this human body, despite so little experience with the thing.
It must be a sign that I was made for something more than demonhood.
He eased the window open, then looked out from the old building onto the prodigious city he’d once called his own.

Brisk wind assaulted his senses, but he quickly came to enjoy the cold on his skin and the smell of the night air, full of pollen, car exhaust, cigarette smoke, and a faint trace of some distant fried food. Having never eaten before, Thorn would love to try it. But he knew that he’d likely morph back into a spirit again after taking a few steps out of the room.
How is Amy having this effect on me?

Perhaps his physical form resulted from his newfound morality, somehow.
Or at least from the morality I’m trying to obtain.
Thorn had tried to act with a good conscience lately, especially during this last day in the Sanctuaries, but he still didn’t know where to turn when he needed answers about morality.
How can a being as immoral as me derive morality from within myself?

Thorn hoped that he was changing for the better. But the corpses of the two demons in the closet might have disagreed.

“Judge!” Thorn yelled as he flew through the closed doors of the Judge’s courtroom. Hundreds of demons looked up from the spectators’ benches, the jury box, and every other cranny of the large room. Shocked surprise spattered onto their faces.

Thorn had spied the Judge before entering, hovering by the court clerk’s desk, so he’d planned his grand entrance as a curve, arcing from the doors, upward to the center of the room where all could see him, then downward to the Judge, who would have no choice but to listen if Thorn proclaimed his findings to the throng. “God created the Sanctuaries as tests for us, because He wants to reconcile!” Thorn bellowed. “He will accept defectors with open arms if we can prove ourselves moral enough. I have evidence of this: two humans, Brandon and Heather, who were in both Sanctuaries with me. The Judge has seen them, too. The Sanctuaries are not operated for their sake, or for the sake of any human. The Sanctuaries are for
us
—demons.”