Forbidden (38 page)

The boy in the red shirt flies out of the Camaro and lands on the pavement. The girl in the blue dress is tossed from the Charger’s sunroof and rolls into the ditch. The air smells of burning rubber and fuel.

Before the smoke settles, Michael and his brothers are standing over the bodies. I am overwhelmed with the need to help, however I can, but Mr. Patronus tightens his hand around my arm as though he knows.

“You must not go, Sophia. They should not see you.”

“Who?”

“The victims.”

I look at him in question. I am filling up with curiosity, but he says, “Later. We’ll have a long talk later. For now, let the boys work. They know what they’re doing.”

My mind buzzes with déjà vu.

They know what they’re doing
.

Mom said those exact words when I watched Michael and his brothers save Casey James. I look back at Michael’s father but he puts a finger to his lips, and I don’t say a word.

Michael kneels beside the boy in red. His hands make a crown on the forehead as he whispers something. Raph peers inside the inverted Charger where another boy is slumped upside down on the ceiling. Raph murmurs, and the boy rouses, moaning. He clicks open the seat belt and rolls onto his side. With Raph’s coaching, the boy crawls onto the pavement, looks for his cell phone, and punches 911. Once the call connects, Raph moves away and meets Gabe in the ditch where the girl in blue is crumpled in a heap. They roll her over.

Mesmerized by what I am seeing, I absently mumble, “Check her ribs,” because I know instinctively from the first time I saw the crash—a rib is puncturing her lung. I don’t know how I know this, I just do.

Raph and Gabe shoot me a hostile look across the vast space separating us, and I bite down on my lip to stop further interruptions. They continue with whatever the heck they are doing.

The boy from the Charger crawls forward, sobbing at the gruesome scene around him. When he scrambles to the girl in blue, he passes right through Raph, and I gasp out loud. The boy doesn’t hear me but everyone else does. Mr. Patronus pulls me into the
shadows of nearby trees and wraps an arm around my shoulders. I am stunned and trembling, but he has an overwhelming calming effect. Within moments I feel myself relax.

I am aware that I am watching something extraordinary. Of course, I’d discovered Michael’s strange ability to help others but I never pushed my imagination this far. I certainly never dreamed it involved a supernatural ability of this magnitude.

My rational side says my beliefs will conform to my reality to accommodate my sanity. They must, because this is real. This
is
happening.

My practical side says,
This is un-freaking-believable!

Milvi seems to sense my internal struggle and offers to take me home, but Mr. Patronus jerks his chin to the right.

“Not yet. We have company.”

That grungy guy is strolling down the middle of the road. Michael and his brothers stop what they are doing and glare at him while he meanders and pokes around the wreckage like he’s scavenging a yard sale. Without a sound, Milvi disappears from my side and reappears in front of him. The guy comes to an abrupt halt on the road. My jaw drops in stunned silence and I strain to hear Milvi speaking.

“You have a contract?” she demands, looking for something in the guy’s hands. He holds them up. Empty. “Well, what do you want?” She takes up a defensive stance, hands on hips, back straight, chin high.

The guy grins, shoving dirty hands into cruddy pockets. “Hey, Milvi, how’s it going?” He is nonchalant against her open hostility. “Aw, c’mon, you know I gotta at least show up and have a look.”

“Leave. Now, Degan,” Milvi warns.

He peers at Michael and the boy in red. “Hmm, think I’ll stay a minute.” He makes to move closer but Raph and Gabe flash beside him.

“Where do ya think you’re goin’?” Raph says, throwing an arm around Degan’s shoulders like they’re old buddies.

With Degan under control, Michael returns his attention to the boy. He lays a hand on the bloody forehead and continues meditating. Meanwhile, the girl in blue wakes up moaning. Her friend reassures her that help is on the way, and then he hurries over to the boy in red, passing directly into Michael’s body. Michael continues his ministration unaffected. I see their images, one over the other like a double-exposed 35 mm film. The guy is crying against his friend’s chest while Michael chants something. I watch without blinking, full stun mode. It’s as if Michael and his brothers aren’t even there, like the boy can’t see them, or see Milvi or the grungy guy—Degan.

Just like the nurse and the cop
.

This
is the thing that Michael said we couldn’t talk about. But what is it?

At this point I could easily have myself a lovely little mental meltdown, but my second heartbeat is gentle and constant, reassuring me. What I’m witnessing is a good thing, and pride swells in me because I know Michael is saving this boy’s life.

The boy beneath Michael’s hand stirs, and his faint imprint sits upright and looks around.

Degan reaches out and yells, “Oh yeah, c’mon on, man!” He struggles against Raph, desperate just to touch the imprint. Raph tightens his arm and snaps Degan’s neck. Degan slides to the ground, his body smoking and curling in on itself. It eventually shrivels like the Wicked Witch, leaving a pile of grungy clothes behind.

The imprint looks at Michael and says, “Dude, am I dead?”

“Not yet, Jake, you need to go back.”

The imprint reclines and then pops back up and says, “Thanks, man.” He smiles and snuggles deep into his body.

Michael sweeps a hand over Jake’s face, and after a moment, the boy’s eyes flutter and open. Jake’s friend cries out with relief and hugs him.

All three victims are saved, and a siren sounds in the distance.

I hear Mr. Patronus sigh heavily beside me so I do, too. He guides me to the log that stopped my graceful entrance and tells me to sit. I wring my hands and wait for the others. Uriel sits next to me and holds up a white mouse. I’m scared of mice, but after tonight I don’t even flinch.

“Cool,” I mumble.

“Thanks,” he says.

And we wait.

The silence is too much. I become aware of every nuance around me. Sweet gum trees are scattered throughout the woods, and I think it must be nice to be a tree, to know exactly what you are and what your purpose is. High overhead the treetops sway and waltz with the wind, proving that nature was made to be happy. The corrugated edges make a jagged shape against the dark sky, a Rorschach inkblot with stars pricking the background like peepholes.

I know Mom must be looking down as I am looking up.

After what feels like forever, Michael and the others walk into the clearing. I jump up, anxious for him to explain, but he is impossible to read, and his face seems to glow.
All
their faces do. Their eyes are translucent, with a pinch of blue in the center. Flushed with energy, they are emitting a low hum, like a power line, the same vibration I
felt coming from Michael’s home.

Mr. Patronus drops an arm over Uriel’s shoulder while the family confers quietly without me. When they reach their decision, they form a semicircle around me. I feel like an uninvited intruder. Exactly what I am.

I wonder why Michael doesn’t come to me. Surely, he can sense my discomfort, my embarrassment. I fidget with my sleeve and give him a pleading look. He doesn’t move.

Mr. Patronus clears his throat. “Well, Sophia, I assume you have a question or two?”

My lips part in surprise.
A question or two? Is he kidding? How about the hundred or so wandering around inside my head like lost sheep?

With everyone staring, I am overcome with bashfulness and can’t snag one thought from the flock.

“I’m sorry.” Mr. Patronus offers a careful smile. “This is very awkward for us. You see, we’ve never been allowed to … explain ourselves before.” I nod woodenly, and he continues. “Yes, well, we know you understand certain
things
about Michael. And now, of course, you’ve witnessed the entire family.”

I swallow a bunch of nothing and look at Michael.
Come to me, please!

Michael shifts restlessly as the familiar pulling starts in my chest. My nails dig into my palms and a mental meltdown sounds like a viable option.

“Michael has special
gifts
that allow him to protect people, to
save
them, as you’ve seen tonight. Do you understand?” Mr. Patronus nods and smiles encouragingly so I’ll verify my understanding. I nod back but think,
The eyes can understand what the mind cannot
.

Mr. Patronus frowns, and I feel I’ve failed him. I want to make this easier but I don’t know what to say. I am reduced to staring.

“Well, then …” He falters and then sighs heavily, resigned to just come out with it. “Sophia, Michael is a guardian.”

There is a dramatic pause, and I feel the weight of their eyes on me. The silence is heavy and thick all of a sudden, and the words sink slowly to the bottom of my brain.

Michael is a guardian …

Okay
.

“Aaaand … what exactly does that mean?”

“It means it is his official title, so to speak.”

“Oh.”
That certainly didn’t help any
. “And?”

“And …” Mr. Patronus says with a leading expression. “His brothers and cousins
are guardians as well.”

I lift my eyebrows, considering. His meaning is lost on me.

Milvi has an exasperated expression and states, rather emphatically, “We are
guardians
, Sophia!”

My mind is whirling and I feel utterly inept.

Guardians. They call themselves guardians who guard people. Okay. Weird, but okay
.

“Guardians!”
Gabe snaps, and I feel everyone running out of patience.

My cheeks burn.
What am I missing?

I look at Michael for help, but his mouth is twitching with amusement. Raph leans toward him and laughs. “She is a
pastor’s
daughter, right?”

A private joke at my expense,
Ha-ha
.

My eyes pass over Michael, Raph, and Gabe, standing tall and proud like beautifully sculpted Greek gods, with a slight residual glow.

They are guardians
. I strike the thought against everything I have seen, and something sparks to life deep within me. A lit fuse begins to burn, opening my eyes, parting my lips and raising my finger to point at them.

Guardians!
The word fills my head.

Chapter 32

Surprise of the Seraphim

“Michael. Raphael. Gabriel. You are guardians, as in
angels
!” Blood drains from my face as I take in the magnitude of my revelation.

Michael is a Guardian Angel
.

I am suddenly straddling the threshold of awareness, suspended for mere moments. Truth is not something you recognize at a glance, or sometimes even at a closer inspection; truth drags feelings and faith behind it, and I am inundated with both; the second heartbeat has overtaken my own as if to say,
You are more than you once were
, and everything empty inside me fills up with satisfaction. My consciousness opens like a sleepy flower turning toward the light; a breath of water passes through me carrying away doubt—and I step firmly over the threshold and onto solid ground.

Ten thousand ancient questions are answered in an instant and I think,
Yes, of course I am made of more than blood and bone but of spirit that glues me whole
. Somewhere in my innate makeup this knowledge was hiding and I now have clarity of mind and body; everything lost is found.

This is what Hope thinks about, what Faith feels at the end of each day. Evolution is not finished; my mind is evolving in leaps and bounds, and I
believe
. Mom spoke of confection in the air, and I taste a similar sweetness on the tip of my tongue.

Guardian. Angel. Michael.

I see Michael’s fragile beauty for what it is, and the spinning earth slows so I can exit on my own two feet and stand in Michael’s world and take it all in.…

*  *  *

Michael is talking but I’m not hearing. His image blurs before me and he reaches out as I sway.

“Sophia!” Michael steadies me, and I realize the blood hasn’t returned to my head yet. “Here, sit down.” He guides me to the log while the others gather around. Michael suggests I put my head between my knees.

“No, I’m okay.”

I just need to breathe deeply and look at them, each one in turn. They are exquisite spiritual beings that I am truly seeing for the first time. Their knowing smiles are comforting and help ease my shock. Milvi asks if I’m okay. I nod and think,
What does it matter, I am surrounded by freakin’ angels!
I want to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Michael kneels beside me and holds my face like a fragile cup. “Sophia, do you understand what’s happening … what we are?” he asks firmly, seriously. I nod, firmly, seriously. We stare for a long, solemn moment and then slowly grin like conspirators. Michael remembers our secret and sits beside me to project a platonic relationship. “Anything you’d like to ask?”

I force a recovery and say the first thing that pops into my head. “You’re not … I mean, you can’t be
that
Michael, right?” I hope it’s not a stupid question, considering the Archangel Michael has been around, well, forever, and
my
Michael is a teenager.

Michael sweeps a look of relief over his family as if to say,
See there, she can handle this without a tranquilizer shot
. Everybody relaxes. “No, Sophia. My brothers and I and Uriel are named after our predecessors, but we are pure guardian, not Archangels. And so is Milvi. Dad is a Messenger and Mom is a Seer, same as Milvi’s parents.”

Milvi smiles at me, and I finally understand the source of her anger. I wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. I wasn’t supposed to know their secret. She was just trying to protect them.