Color of Angels' Souls (34 page)

“I don't see Allison anywhere,” was all Jeremy answered. He was still bent on finding the girl, and even the halls of power and all the influential Angels bustling around hadn't fazed him.

Lili let out a growl of displeasure that was hardly becoming of a young girl … or of an old Angel for that matter.

“I give you a firsthand view of the most important power brokers from your former world, and all you can think of is finding your girlfriend?!”

She looked so disgusted that Jeremy felt the need to justify himself: “That's why we came here! To find her. To find them. That's what Galileo said. That Flint would be in Washington.”

Lili sighed.

“Wait for me here. I'll go ask some of the Blues.”

She walked over to a dark-blue Angel who was floating over the president, yelling in his ear. For some reason, there were no Reds around. She interrupted him for a moment to ask him a question. He quickly snapped a response and then turned straight back to the president. Jeremy suddenly recognized the man: It was Franklin Delano Roosevelt! The thirty-second president of the United States, and the only man to have been elected more than twice to the office. The famous democrat who had created the New Deal and Social Security was heaping advice on the living president. Behind the Angel, Jeremy recognized other Blues. His heart missed a beat: The thin Angel with the black beard was Abraham Lincoln, and to his left was George Washington, who was talking to Benjamin Franklin. The most famous presidents and the founding fathers of America! Incredible. Jeremy completely forgot why he was there for a few seconds, transfixed by the scene. He would have loved to go over and talk to them, but the aids, cabinet members, and secretaries were surrounded by blue and red Angels, each trying to elbow past the other to get the best spot. It was impossible to move any closer.

As Jeremy looked on in wonder, an old Red roughly pushed Roosevelt out of the way and began yelling into the President's ear. Jeremy now understood why politicians often suffered from terrible headaches. It was hardly surprising with all those Angels yelling at them all the time!

Unlike with the famous politicians, Jeremy didn't recognize the Red who was now doing his best to influence the president. He was short and pudgy, and wore an elegant Mist suit. It looked like there were scars on his fa—

Jeremy swallowed hard.

Al Capone. The guy now yelling into the ear of the president of the United States was the infamous Chicago gangster! Without warning, the red Angel lifted his head and met Jeremy's gaze. For an instant, he flashed a look at the young Angel filled with so much hate and hostility that Jeremy thought he'd frozen into a block of ice.

He slowly backed away, one step after another, letting the mad rush of Angels swallow him up. He took up a new position off in a far corner of the Oval Office. He didn't want to seem paranoid, but he had an awful feeling about the red Angel. It was as if Capone knew who he was, and was out to get him. Him, personally. But that was absolutely impossible.

“He's not here,” Lili yelled at him above the noise. She had suddenly appeared at his side, making him jump. I talked to two other Blues and a Red to get some information. Let's go to the CIA and the Pentagon; then we'll try the Capitol.”

“Who's not here?” Jeremy asked, still in shock.

“What do you mean
who
?!” Lili huffed. “Flint, of course! What's gotten into you, Jeremy?”

He rubbed his face, trying to shake off the unpleasant sensation that was nagging at him.

“No, no. Nothing. Let's go.”

The two of them checked in at all the seats of power in the capital, but had no luck. No one had seen Flint. After spending hours trying to figure out a way to find Allison, a crestfallen Jeremy finally agreed with Lili that they should head back to her place. As soon as they passed through the wall of her comfy apartment, Jeremy turned to face her.

“We're not going to get anywhere like this!” he said. “Do you have a list?”

He could see the surprise in her limpid green eyes.

“A list? A list of what?”

“A list of the oldest, most powerful and most dangerous red Angels that Flint may have taken Allison to see?”

Lili pursed her full lips.

“Now what makes you think that Allison is with Flint?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Jeremy replied sardonically. “Maybe the fact that they both disappeared at exactly the same time?”

“Allison may have left on her own, and Flint tried to follow her.”

Jeremy could only stare at her, unable to respond. Could there have been a slight hint of jealousy in the beautiful Angel's voice? But Lili had had thousands of years to perfect the smooth mask that she had chosen to wear. He couldn't read anything on her face.

Now it was his turn to shrug.

“Well, for whatever reason, they're both gone. Whether they left together or each one on their own doesn't matter. All that matters is that we find her—I mean,
them
,” he quickly added with a glance at Lili.

“No, there is no list,” she said. “I know the Great Ancients. In three months, there will be an important meeting between the Blues and the Reds. The Red decade is coming to a close, with its economic crisis, wars, and famine. Now the Blue decade is about to begin, and we'll have ten years to try to turn things around. The meeting was initially supposed to take place just two weeks from now, but the Reds asked for a postponement.”

“Three months! But that's—”

“A long time. But for us old Angels it's nothing. Don't forget that we're almost immortal, Jeremy. We don't have the same notion of time. We've learned to be patient.”

He was tiring her, and Lili paused for a moment before adding: “Anyway, when the meeting is held, all the most powerful Angels in our world will be there, and Allison could ask any of a number of them for help. They'll all be arriving over the next few weeks. We'll find out where they are and ask them about Flint and Allison. Don't worry; we'll find them.”

Jeremy was grateful to Lili for her encouragement, even if it didn't cheer him up one little bit.

The ensuing days were a living hell for Jeremy. Even he couldn't understand why he was so despondent, so heartbroken. After a week had passed, he was still so impatient to find Allison that he thought he was going crazy. After a month, it was Lili whom he was driving crazy, and she soon did everything she could to avoid him. It was undoubtedly a good thing he hadn't stayed in New York, or he probably would have spent all his time immersed in Allison's things at her apartment before it was rented to someone else. He missed her terribly. The few hours of fitful sleep that he managed to get were filled with nightmares. He would dream of Allison, naked (why naked? His subconscious refused to tell him), crouching down in front of a horrible, obese Red, bloated with lies and treachery, who fed off the blackest, most vile emotions imaginable, while Flint stood behind her, stroking her hair and clouding her mind. And each time when he woke up he would feel like throwing up. But he now knew that in order to be strong, he had to keep eating. He forced himself to eat huge quantities of Mist and did a lot of exercise—way more than he had ever done when he was alive.

One day, Connor, one of Lili's worshippers who looked exactly like a famous black actor, stopped by the apartment. Jeremy was busy practicing his
Katas
. He had done a lot of judo when he was alive and had decided to take it up again. If he should ever find himself face-to-face with the killer again, it would be nice if he could at least defend himself.

Connor, who had long black hair and slightly pointed ears (the most ridiculous thing Jeremy had ever seen in both his lives; he figured that the Angel wanted to look like Blade) quietly looked on for a moment, with his thick arms crossed over his naked, muscular chest. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Jeremy saw him nod his head and walk up to him. He bowed slightly and assumed a combat position.

What the hell … ?

Before he knew what hit him, Jeremy's nose was smashed against the mat and his ears were ringing. Connor smiled and helped him to his feet, then gave Jeremy a few sharp taps on his arms and legs to correct his position, without saying a word the whole time. Jeremy opened his mouth to ask him what he was doing, but the black Angel assumed the fighting position once again and renewed his attack. Jeremy quickly moved out of the way. Connor smiled in approval, then grabbed hold of him by the chest, twisted him around, and smashed him down on the mat. Again. Furious now, Jeremy rose to his feet. Suddenly, all the frustration that had been pent up inside over the past few weeks erupted in full force, and he lashed out at the Angel like a madman. Connor was surprised for an instant, but managed to sidestep the attack like a big, graceful cat. When they finally left off, Jeremy was exhausted and drenched with sweat, but he was still standing—sore all over, but still standing. Connor also winced and stroked his ribs.

From that day on, Connor became Jeremy's personal trainer. Jeremy could never figure out why, because it was almost impossible to get a word out of him, but he was grateful to the Angel. For some reason, Connor only showed up when Lili wasn't home, which was often the case. His presence helped keep Jeremy from going crazy, because unlike Connor, Jeremy talked all the time. He talked about himself, about his life before he passed over, and his new life, which was pretty miserable. And he talked about Allison.

And then some more about Allison.

And even more about Allison.

And then again about All—

To be honest, Jeremy told himself that if Connor had rambled on as much as he did, he probably would have whacked him on the head. But his brawny and patient instructor always listened, never interrupting, except of course when he pinned him to the mat. During Jeremy's moments of exaltation, when he cried, “I know I'll find her!” and his moments of despair, when he complained, “I'll never find her!”, the Angel kept listening.

When he wasn't training, Jeremy continued to scour the city, searching every place where Flint and Allison may have gone. Lili patiently accompanied him for the first two months, but then she decided she'd had enough of him when he refused to go see a movie or a play with her.

“We can't cut ourselves off from the world, Jeremy!” She was infuriated. “It's out of the question! You shouldn't forget how lucky we are: We can still do so many fun things, even if we live vicariously through the living. And believe me, when you're feeling blue, going out to see Jay Leno or Jon Stewart make fun of the living can do you a world of good!”

And she was right, of course. Sometimes she was gone for a few days at a time. Jeremy suspected that she was paying visits to her “little pets,” which probably included Connor, but he never talked about it.

She would always leave a nice set of clothes behind for Jeremy to wear. He really didn't care, since he was more than happy to just make himself a loincloth and a baby pin, but the strange, golden stain on his abdomen kept growing. He didn't know how to make a shirt, so he didn't have much of a choice except to put on what she left for him.

As the weeks passed, the Great Ancients began to arrive in Washington in droves. Their sheer numbers were impressive, and their power and charisma seemed to curve space itself, and weigh on the city like a lead curtain. Without knowing why, the living residents of the city were on edge. Dogs barked, fights kept breaking out, and crime increased. The police were soon overwhelmed, and inevitably mistakes were made. And all because the Angels were in town for a meeting. The whole thing kind of scared Jeremy. He himself fed off their Mist, but he was becoming less and less at ease with the relationship the Angels maintained with the living.

After spending so many hours behind the doors of the White House and the Capitol, Jeremy soon became familiar with the way it all worked. He could witness the enormous frustration of the president and his team day after day—and also of the blue Angels. The world was sick and the living hadn't found the cure. It was like trying to fix a tire that was punctured all over the place, and they kept gluing on little patches, hoping to keep the little holes from bursting. But with the subprime crisis and all the Madoffs in the world, the Reds had already managed to make millions of people miserable.

Great job, guys!

It would take at least ten years to recover form the worldwide economic and financial crisis, no matter which way you looked at it. How would the Blues be able to recreate any sort of equilibrium in such a small amount of time? It gave him something to think about. Throughout his life—his life on Earth, anyway—he had spent most of his time making plans, calculating, figuring things out. But here in the afterlife, all that had changed. Instead of making things happen, he could only suffer the consequences of what happened. Instead of taking action, he could only respond to the acts of others.

He was slowly making his way home after listening in on the umpteenth emergency cabinet meeting at the White House when he once again got the creepy feeling that someone was following him. Khan with his mangled tongue and red flashing sword immediately came to mind, making Jeremy slightly uneasy. Without warning, he turned down a dark side street. A few seconds later, he could hear soft footsteps behind him, almost like a fluttering sound. Jeremy mentally prepared himself. He wasn't armed, but Connor had already taught him so many devious moves (and he had the bruises to prove it) that Jeremy was pretty sure he could take care of whoever was following him.

He lurched just as the person was about to pass by him, grabbing a wrist and clenching his fist to strike … but then stopped his hand when it was less than an inch from the woman's long, aristocratic nose.

Tetisheri.

She stared at him wide-eyed, gaping in wonder.

“OK!” Jeremy yelled to hide his own surprise. “Now why don't you tell me why you're following me!”