Falling From Grace (73 page)

“I figured that much out already, Sam,” I said, annoyed by the way he was looking at me.
 
“I was just about to start heading home.
 
When you talk to him, tell him
—
no, don’t worry about it.”
 
I changed my mind about giving him a message to give to Robert.
 
I knew it would probably never reach him anyway.

I looked down at Sam’s hands.
 
He had my book bag in one, the feather that Robert had left me in the other.
 
Its glossy black color contrasted dramatically against the pristine white of Sam’s clothing.
 
Night and day.
 
Good vs. Evil.
 
But Robert wasn’t evil
—
what was missing?

I glance at Sam’s face and it was as though he had made the same comparison because he smiled in such a manner that I felt the hair on the back of my neck rise up again.
 
My hand automatically went up to pat them down, as if they were sticking straight up, a warning flag to anyone who passed by.
 
But no human would have noticed the reaction.
 
It was too minute to be anything but a feeling one brushed off as silliness.

“I’ve got to get going now, Sam.
 
Could I have my things back?” I told him, not wanting to stay around any longer than necessary.
 
I held my hand out expectantly, an impatient sigh coming out as I did so.
 
Impatient was better than annoyed.

His gold eyes had started to grow warmer, the hard, cold metal in them turning into liquid.
 
“Why in such a rush, Grace?” he asked, his voice dripping with artificial sweetness, saccharine in its falseness.

Not wanting to show the sudden fear that had taken a hold of me, I pointed to my book bag, as if the answer to his question were quite obvious.
 
“I have to walk home, Sam, and it’s not like I live right down the street.”

I could feel my heartbeat picking up, the nervousness and fear that were starting to overwhelm my thoughts was affecting its rhythm.
 
I walked towards Sam, my hand outstretched, shaking.
 
“Could you give me back my book bag, Sam?”
 
Instead of the book bag, he handed me the feather.

It was then that I noticed that the light from the parking lot was casting my shadow across the grass.
 
It stretched before me, reaching out its dark fingers towards the bench and the trees.
 

It was alone.

“You
—
you have no shadow,” I breathed.
 
The words, unbelievable, yet the absence of his confirmed it.

He nodded, surprised at my reaction, but knowing what path my mind was leading me on.

“You’re…one of the dark ones,” I whispered again, more a revelation than an accusation.
 
My mind raced back to when Robert told me that the dark angels bore no shadow because they were all darkness and couldn’t shape the light the way the others could.
 
I searched the grass once more for any tell-tale sign of a shadow, anything that would calm the screaming accusations in my head
—
I found none.

He bowed then, his left knee bending, right leg pulled behind him.
 
He had one arm draped across his abdomen, while the other was raised up at his side.
 
It was a very elegant, gentlemanly bow, but I forgot all of that when he started talking.
 
“One of the many angels of death, at your service,” he said, his smile dark, his voice mocking.

I took a step back, shock sending shivers throughout my body.
 
My blood felt a degree colder.
 
It felt like it was thickening beneath my skin.
 
How could Robert have been friends with him?
 
He had called them wicked and evil.
 
How could he call someone who was evil a brother?
 

I looked at him, at his beautiful face, and I wondered how many people had been fooled by such treacherous beauty?
 
Robert had been just one of many, no doubt.
 
Sam’s mistakes had cost Robert his heart, and if he were willing to do that to someone who called him a brother, I was suddenly very suspicious of what he was planning for me.
 
“You can’t touch me.” I told him, my voice cracking in its fear.
 
“Lark and Robert told me that there are laws that you have to follow, rules you cannot break.”

“I don’t have to touch you, Grace…to kill you.
 
Didn’t Robert tell you that we’re not subject to the same rules as the rest of them are?”
 
He smiled, the diabolical gleam in his eye causing me to catch my breath as I nearly choked on his words.

I took another step back, even as he took one towards me.
 
“Why
—
what are you doing here, Sam?”

He shrugged his shoulders.
 
“I was bored.”

The way he said it
—
his unaffected tone
—
was too perfect.
 
He was lying.
 
“I thought angels couldn’t lie,” I said, the accusation clear in my voice, as I continued to back away from him.

He laughed, but the annoyance was plain to see in his face, hear in his tone.
 
He didn’t like the fact that I already knew so much about his kind, his world.

“Silly girl.
 
One of the things I can do, and do with ease, is lie.
 
It’s quite a gift of mine, actually,” he said, an evil smile causing his lips to curl up, revealing the slickness of his teeth, as though his mouth was watering for something.

“And don’t worry your silly little head about that whole wing-bringer nonsense.
 
No one is going to punish me for removing you from this life, Grace.
 
Your little soul isn’t as valuable as you think.”
 
I watched as the tip of his tongue peeked out from behind his teeth to touch the sharp point of an incisor, the corner of his mouth curling up as he did so.

“Your silly little romance has been amusing to watch, though, if that’s any consolation to you.
 
So unlike all the other girls of this earth, you are, and yet so similar.
 
So quick to fall into what you think is love.
 
So quick to fall out of it.
 
You don’t know what love is, how it can burn inside of you for an eternity, how it changes you physically, into something you can never reverse.”
 
His words hinted of loss and pain, but I wasn’t brave enough to ask what he was talking about.

Instead, I took a different route, placing my hands on my hips in defiance.
 
“I don’t know what loving someone for an eternity feels like, Sam, but I know that if it were possible for me to do so, I would love Robert for at least that long.
 
And contrary to your statement, I am completely aware of how love can change someone physically, because his love for me
has
changed me physically.
 
It’s just not obvious to someone who’s lived for centuries in his own perfect little world.
 
It’s ironic that with your incredible gifts, you’re unable to see that.”
 
My voice was sad.
 
I hadn’t meant it to be, but the sadness was there just the same.

He leered at my little speech, completely unaffected.
 
“You say that as if he’s actually changed you in some way.
 
You think that the way you feel something somehow eclipses the way that we feel?
 
That it can alter your very makeup the way it can for us?” he sneered, his lips pulling up over an angry snarl.
 

“You are pathetic.
 
You haven’t changed physically, you stupid girl.
 
Your hormones are just working overtime.
 
He hasn’t even lain with you yet; I can see
that
quite clearly!”
 
His eyes roamed up and down my body, his laughter echoing around us, it was so loud.
 
I almost felt violated by the way his eyes lingered on certain parts of me, and angered at how he could just continue talking the way he did.
 
Each word felt like a nail being pounded into my heart and my dignity.

He saw the pain in my face, and took advantage of it.
 
“Has he even tried?
 
Has he made any attempts to seduce you, Grace?
 
Does he not find you suitable to bed?”

I didn’t want to answer, but I couldn’t deny to myself that he had not, had never tried.

“Ahhh…and you probably think it’s because you’re human, right, you silly girl?”
 
He smirked again.

This time I did answer.
 
“I know that he’s been with others.
 
He has told me everything.
 
And I don’t think that’s any of your business!”
 
I tried to keep from sounding hurt by his statements, but I couldn’t help but sense the slight truth in the insinuation that Robert didn’t find me desirable in that way.

I closed my eyes to calm myself.
 
I didn’t need to be feeling all of these other emotions when I needed to focus on Sam and what exactly he wanted with me.

And then he was in my face, so close, I could feel the warmth from his chest, smell the odd sweet smokiness of his breath.
 
“How you must disappoint him.
 
All of the secrets he told you, and you didn’t even listen to any of it.
 
He told you that he couldn’t take things from you, didn’t he, And yet how quick you were to believe that he took his little note from you.
 
How little faith you had in him.”

My mouth opened in a small gasp, the obvious lapse in my judgment clear to him, but I had been oblivious to it, and it shamed me.
 
I had accused Robert of not paying attention and yet I had failed in the same regard.
 
My failure only angered me further as Sam continued, enjoying the shift in my emotions immensely.
 

“Of course, he also said that he’d keep you safe, too.
 
He made himself a liar when he told you about me,” he whispered before leaping back to his original position.

“He didn’t keep you safe from me, Grace, even though he knew what I was.
 
He shouldn’t have brought you to the wedding
—
shouldn’t have allowed you to see so much, especially knowing that the possibility was so great that he would need to keep you safe from himself.”

I was confused.
 
Despite the abhorrence I felt listening to him, I had to ask, “What do you mean, keep me safe from himself?”

The anticipation of telling me some long unknown truth changed his presence wholly.
 
He became relaxed, where before he was poised, on the verge, ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

Whatever he was about to tell me was something he had wanted me to know for some time.

“I’m not just a minion of death, Grace.
 
I am Samael.
 
I am a
dark
angel of death.
 
But your N’Uriel, ahh…he is something special
—
unique even.
 
His position is much more desirable than mine among my fellow dark ones.
 
Why do you think I was sent to mentor him, Grace?
 
Why do you think I was chosen to teach him, to lead him to this path?
 
He has the power to decide; he is a judge, a throne, a punisher, a savior.
 
I may be an angel of death, but your N’Uriel…he
is
Death.”
 
The smile was wide on his face as he took in my shock.

“I don’t believe it,” I said, shaking my head in denial.
 
“I won’t believe it.
 
Death isn’t a person
—
it’s not Robert.”

Sam laughed, “You stupid girl.
 
His name isn’t
Robert
.
 
His name is N’Uriel.
 
You’ve asked so many useless questions about us, and yet you failed to ask the one question that would have answered everything for you.”

Again, he was in front of me, the span of fifty feet crossed in less than a second, with one firm, cruel, iron hand holding my chin so I couldn’t look away from him, his other placing something in mine.
 
“Ameila gave N’uriel his name because of who he would become when he got his call.
 
Oh yes, she’s known since the moment of his conception
—
how could she not when she chose to create his life in that of a walking corpse?”
 

He sneered at the shock in my eyes and continued with his lurid tale, “Did he tell you what his name meant, Grace?
 
No?
 
N’Uriel is the fire of God.
 
His soul crossed through the fires of hell in order to be born.
 
He was born amid flames, emerging from that woman’s corpse as though he were Lucifer himself.
 
What else could he be
but
Death?
 
Did you never stop to ask yourself what the consequences were of such a birth?
 
Of course not, you stupid girl.
 
Even
he
assumed that the most he’d have to suffer would be to not be able to heal someone.