Feathermore (21 page)

Being in their room, surrounded by their things, made it all sink in: they were truly gone. But as much as I tried to move on, to go on with this new life I had, they were always present in my mind. I lay down on their bed, in their picture-perfect room. I hugged the pillow and allowed myself to let go. The tears came easily, and hearing my own sobs made it even more painful.

I sprang suddenly awake on the bed. My head felt heavy and thick. It took me a moment to realize where I was. The noise that had woken me was there again. Footsteps. I lifted the blankets off me and tiptoed to the door. Whoever was in my house was getting closer. I hid behind the door and waited.

The footsteps stopped at the entrance to my parents’ room. I listened intently, but there was nothing, yet I could feel its presence.

Manifest!
my own inner voice told me. I concentrated and felt the weight of my dad’s .357 Magnum revolver in my hand. Through the crack, I saw a person take a step into the room. I closed my eyes, gathering the strength I needed for what would come next. Before I could change my mind I moved in front of the door, holding the gun up, ready to fire if needed.

I was alone in the room. After willing all the lights in the whole house to come on, I peered onto the hallway. Nothing. I searched the house but could find no trace that anyone had been here. I was losing my mind. It was now official. Seeing things that were not there? What was wrong with me?

The microwave showed that it was 2:37 am. I was starving—popcorn and root beer didn’t seem to have enough staying power. I pulled a bucket of chocolate cookie dough from the freezer and turned on the oven. While the cookies baked, I turned on the TV and flicked to the cartoon channel. It would be a perfect way to keep me from thinking of someone lurking about in my house.

I ran up the stairs two at a time, afraid someone might still be in here somehow, and grabbed my cell phone from Mom’s nightstand. I had one text from Claire, wondering how the movie had been.

I hadn’t made it back to the couch when the doorbell rang, making my heart jump. I walked to the entrance, clutching the manifested gun, and looked through the peephole.

“
What the hell are you doing here? You almost gave me a heart attack!” I yelled as I swung the door open.

Claire walked in and closed the door behind her. She didn’t smile or even look at me. She just used her supernatural speed around the house. When she finally sat down next to me on the couch, she grabbed one of my cookies and pointed at the TV.

“
Oh, I love this one!” she said. “It’s the one where he falls in love with the female cat and does all these stupid things to get her attention, but then—”

“
Thanks, Claire,” I said. I really don’t need you to tell me what it’s about. I’ve seen it as many times as you have.”

“
Well,
someone
is a little snappy tonight,” she said, and wolfed down half the cookie.

“
Well, let’s see, shall we? My boyfriend may never accept who I am, someone is trying to kill me, and—oh, yes, that’s right, let’s not forget—someone was here!” My raised voice carried throughout the house.

“
What happen with Avan?”

“
Nothing. It’s not important.”

She took a long look at me, and she knew. It was best to let me be. “Whoever was here was one of us.”

“
Us?”

“
Yeah, you know—a good guy.”

Then what the hell was a good guy doing creeping around my house! I wondered if it was the stranger I kept seeing, the one who had been on my front door—or whom I had imagined there, anyway. I kept seeing him randomly around town. It almost seemed as if he was stalking me. I had to wonder whether he was in cahoots with Lilith.

20 COMPING GONE WRONG

It was time to go on our little vacation, but we didn’t need to bring danger to another community, so we decided to go looking for an empty spot over on the mountains—someplace that wouldn’t be frequented by humans. I decided to go. I needed the time alone to think and reflect on everything that had been going on.

I wasn’t completely sure where Avan and I stood now, but I didn’t care. He was never going to accept me. He was a lost cause, and there was nothing I could do about it. This trip was only to keep him safe. Lilith may still want to use him against me, and I could never live with myself if anything happened to him.

I flew for hours and was growing tired when I found a large clearing at the foot of a mountain, which meant it could be easily accessible by humans. It seemed pretty deserted at the moment. I hadn’t seen a single person for several miles. I circled the spot and, satisfied no one was around, manifested a large cabin. Not just any cabin, though—this was a two story chalet built of beautifully shaped logs and stones. There was a veranda on the first floor, with a few white rocking chairs for some late-night hot cocoa. The second floor had a wraparound balcony of small logs. Smoke rose from the chimney. It was time to go get the gang and explore the house.

A flock of birds flanked me and flew with me. From the bits and pieces I remembered from biology class, one of the advantages of flocks, especially in closed habitats such as a forest, was that the multiple eyes provided valuable early detection of predators.
It was nice that even when I hadn’t called them, they rallied to protect me.

The smaller birds had started dropping off as they grew tired, but the ravens and two eagles stayed with me the whole way. As I made my descent, so did they.

* * *

By the time we all made it back to the cabin it was night, and there was a peculiar darkness around the forest. Maybe I hadn’t picked out the best spot after all. An eerie white fog covered the ground, hugging the tree trunks and hiding the steps to the cabin. As everyone wandered off to choose rooms and check out the place, I looked out the window by the front door. The ravens were waiting faithfully in the big bare tree across the clearing. The eagles had come over to the veranda and were perched on the railings on either side of front porch steps.

I saw Avan’s approaching reflection in the window glass. In his mind, nothing had changed. He couldn’t see the choice he had unknowingly made yesterday. He wrapped his arms around me, and his hands slid all the way to my belly button, where his fingers intertwined and pulled me back against him. I didn’t fight it. I let him believe that everything was okay. It was late. I had been flying for quite some time, and the warmth of his body acted almost like a sedative. He crouched and put his left arm on the back of my knees and picked me up.

Just then Claire and Nate were walking in with a box in their hands. “I got a board game,” Claire said, shaking it in front of us.

“
Jade’s tired,” Avan said. “I think we’re just going to call it a night.” He looked at me, waiting to see if he had spoken too soon, but it was true: I was beat.

It took me about four tries to find the mattress that felt just right. By the time Avan got done with his shower, my show of magic was over. We stayed up for a little bit, talking about nothing at all, and as the yawns kept creeping up on me, he leaned over for a kiss. That one simple movement alone made my whole body wake up—he had fully charged me.

My hand sought the back of his head, my fingers curling and twining themselves in his hair as I pulled him closer. His weight shifted, and I pulled him on top of me. I expected him to put on the brakes as he had been doing lately, but he didn’t. In fact, he kissed me even more passionately as one of his hands cradled my face and the other slid down onto my leg.

Everything became hazy as his hand slid around my thigh and then went to my hips, pressing me against him. The excitement was making my wings start tingling, wanting to push their way through, but I couldn’t allow it, not when Lilith would be able to find us so easily.

I slowly pulled away from him. “I—I’m sorry,” I said.

He was still hovering above me when he tilted his head and kissed my forehead. He had been hoping for a different outcome. I wished for it, too, but I couldn’t do it, not until he accepted what I was.

Unlike last night, sleep came easily. I curled up on the bed with my back against him, and he lay wrapped around me, his breath on the back of my neck sending shivers through my body.

* * *

I looked around, and all I could see was the bright white fog, as if I were standing on a cloud. It was warm and very bright. I tried to manifest sunglasses, but none came. I started walking, with nothing around me but the fog and the clear blue sky. Suddenly, I tripped over something and lost my balance. Just that fast, my wings sprouted before I went sprawling, and with two powerful beats, I was standing on my feet again, never having hit the ground. I searched below me for whatever had made me trip. I couldn’t find anything at first, just fog, and there was no ground beneath it, just more fog. When I was about to give up the search, a shiny object a few paces to the left caught my eye.

Drawing closer, I could see that it was a sword. I looked along the sharp edge and followed the engraving that ran down the blade, all the way down to the rain guard, which bore a jet black stone held in place by silver snakes. Then, looking more closely at the hilt, I gasped and took a quick step back—for there was a hand still wrapped around it. Nothing moved, and no one came after me. I stepped tentatively forward again, and the fog dissipated enough that I could see the boy. He had dark brown hair and full lips, and his eyes were closed. He wore black trousers, and his muscular chest was bare. Then, behind him, I saw the wings. They were black as coal. I looked down at the fallen angel, wondering why he should be lying here, when I saw the wound low on his abdomen. A thin line of congealing blood ran down to a dark crimson puddle beneath him.

I looked around once again for anyone—or anything—still standing. Why was this boy here? Why was he dead? I kept walking in the direction I thought I had come from, only to come upon another fallen angel. His wounds were more severe than the boy’s. His throat was sliced open, and he had been stabbed and slashed in several places. He looked as though he had fought hard until the end. Then I came across another body, and another.

I had counted fifteen dead fallen angels when I heard the weeping. I couldn’t see from the source, but as I kept walking forward it grew louder, until all of a sudden, as if summoned from the fog, two large golden wings appeared—an angel, kneeling over something a few feet away from me. I approached quietly and was astonished to find Claire, sobbing over the body of a pure angel. He must have died in the same battle that claimed the others. I got closer and put my hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t acknowledge me. Could she even see me?

“
Claire, are you okay?” I asked in a shaky voice. She didn’t move or look up at me; she just held her hands on the lifeless boy lying on the ground. He had flaxen-blond hair and facial features much like hers, and, like the others I had found, he seemed tall and very muscular. Then, seeing his back, I felt a sudden wave of nausea. His wings had been chopped off. But how could that be? Had the fallen angels done this to him? But . . . why? Questions whirled through my mind. How had a pure angel been defeated, and why would the fallen ones take his wings? As some kind of ghastly trophy?

Another pure angel materialized at Claire’s side. He gently put his hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, sobbing. She asked the older angel, “How could this happen? He was stronger than any of them! And look what they have done to his wings!” She was distraught, and I felt for her. I didn’t know who this boy was, but he seemed to be dear to her heart.

The older angel seemed to be taking the death with stoic acceptance. Watching her throw her arms around him, I couldn’t help but shed a tear myself. She pressed her lips against the lifeless boy, and I could see the pain she felt at parting. She stood up, and as her wings flared, a look of vengeance filled her eyes. She gazed down at him and said, “I will not rest until I kill every one of them. Your death will not go unavenged, Shemer, my love.” She closed her eyes, and she and the older angel disappeared, leaving me weeping next to Claire’s fallen mate. This must have been what Nate had tried to tell me when he said she was over a hundred years older than he. I saw that Shemer, too, had a long, gleaming sword, but its engraving was different, as was the stone embedded in the crossguard. It was an oval-cut diamond, far and away the biggest I had ever seen. I slid the weapon out of his hand and studied it, wondering what the engraving meant. Hearing a noise behind me, I sprang up and whirled about, brandishing the heavy sword. But no one was there. Then, abruptly, everything whirled into blackness.

* * *

I was covered in sweat when I woke up.
The question still lingered in my head: why would a fallen angel hack off a pure angel’s wings? I knew now that my dreams were not merely dreams but bits and pieces of real life—in this case, from the distant past. I just couldn’t make sense of what this one meant. I felt behind me in the bed, and Avan was gone. I pushed the covers off of me with my feet, and to my utter disbelief, there beside me lay Shemer’s sword.