Halo (19 page)

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stop myself from crying out in frustration. There was no point dwelling on it any longer. I had made my decision.

“You can open your eyes,” I called down to Xavier.

When he did, he looked around in surprise to find me gone before turning his gaze upward. I waved when he spotted me.

“What are you doing up there?” I heard a splinter of panic in his voice. “Beth, that’s not funny. Come down right now before you hurt yourself.”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming down,” I said. “My way.”

I took a step forward so that I was teetering on the cliff’s edge and shifted my weight to balance on the balls of my feet. The uneven rock scraped my skin but I hardly noticed. I felt like I was already flying, and more than anything I wanted to feel the rush of wind in my hair again.

“Cut that out, Beth! Don’t move, I’m coming up to get you!” I heard Xavier yell, but I wasn’t listening to him anymore. As the wind whipped my clothes, I spread my arms and let myself fall from the cliff. If I had been human, my stomach might have shot up into my throat, but the drop only made my heart soar and my body buzz with exhilaration. I plummeted toward the ground, relishing the sharp sting of the air against my cheeks. Xavier cried out and ran to catch me, but his efforts were futile. This was one time when I didn’t need rescuing. Midway to the ground, I dropped my arms and allowed the transformation to take place. A blinding light shot from inside my body, shining from every pore and making my skin glow like white hot metal. I saw Xavier shield his eyes and draw back. I felt my wings burst from behind my shoulder blades. They exploded through the confines of my dress, tearing the light fabric to ribbons. Fully expanded, they cast a long shadow across the sand as though I were some sort of majestic bird.

Xavier had dropped to a crouch, and I knew that the pulsing light was blinding him. I felt exposed and naked hovering there, my wings beating the air to hold me up but also strangely elated. I felt the tendons in my wings stretch, eager for more exercise. They spent so much time cramped beneath my clothes these days. I resisted the urge to fly higher and dive through the clouds. I allowed myself to hover a moment before I swooped to the ground where I landed gently on the sand. The blazing incandescence that surrounded me dimmed once my feet reconnected with solid earth.

Xavier rubbed his eyes and blinked, trying to regain his vision. Finally he saw me. He took a step back, face stunned, hands hanging limply by his sides as if they should be doing something but he couldn’t think what. I stood before him, light still clinging to my skin. The remnants of my dress hung like tentacles and from my back arched a pair of towering wings, feather-light but suggesting enormous power. My hair streamed behind me, and I knew that the ring of light around my head would be brighter than ever.

“Holy crap!” Xavier blurted.

“Would you mind not blaspheming?” I asked politely. He stared at me, grappling for the right words. “I know.” I sighed. “Bet you didn’t see this one coming.” I waved a hand in the direction of the beach. “Feel free to leave now if you want.”

Xavier stood motionless for a moment, staring at me wide-eyed. Then he circled me slowly, and I felt him brush his fingers ever so gently against my wings. Although they looked heavy, they were as thin as parchment and weighed next to nothing. I could see from his face that he was marveling at the fragile white feathers and tiny membranes that were visible beneath the diaphanous skin.

“Whoa,” he said, lost for words. “That’s so . . .”

“Freaky?”

“Incredible,” he said. “But what
are
you? You can’t be . . .”

“An angel?” I said. “Jackpot.”

Xavier rubbed the bridge of his nose as though trying to make sense of everything in his head. “This can’t be real,” he said eventually. “I don’t get it.”

“Of course you don’t,” I said. “My world and yours are legions apart.”

“Your world?” he asked incredulously. “This is insane.”

“What is?”

“This stuff is all fantasy. It just doesn’t happen in real life!”

“This
is
real,” I said. “I’m real.”

“I know,” he replied. “The scariest part is that I believe you. Sorry I just need a minute. . . .”

He sank down on the sand, his face contorted like someone trying to solve an impossible riddle. I tried to imagine what was going on in his head. It must be chaotic. He must have so many questions.

“Are you angry?” I asked.

“Angry?” he repeated. “Why would I be angry?”

“Because I didn’t tell you sooner?”

“I’m just trying to get my head around this,” he said.

“I know it can’t be easy. Take your time.”

He was silent for a long while. The convulsive rise and fall of his chest suggested that an internal struggle was taking place. He stood and slowly passed his hand in a semicircle around my head. I knew his fingers would pick up the warmth emitted by my halo.

“Okay, so angels exist,” he conceded eventually, speaking slowly as though trying to explain things to himself. “But what are you doing here on earth?”

“Right now there are thousands of us in human guise spread right across the globe,” I answered. “We’re part of a mission.”

“A mission to achieve what?”

“It’s hard to explain. We’re here to help people reconnect with one another, to love one another.” Xavier looked confused so I tried to elaborate. “There’s too much anger in the world, too much hatred. It’s stirring the dark forces and raising them up. Once they’re unleashed, it’s near impossible to tame them. It’s our job to try and counteract that negativity, to prevent any more disaster from happening. This place has been pretty badly affected.”

“So you’re saying the bad things that have happened here are because of dark forces?”

“Pretty much.”

“And by dark forces I take it you mean the devil?”

“Well, his representatives at least.”

Xavier looked like he was about to laugh, but then stopped himself.

“This is crazy. Who’s supposed to have sent you on this mission?”

“I thought that part might be obvious.”

Xavier gazed at me in disbelief.

“You don’t mean . . .”

“Yes.”

Xavier looked shaken, like he’d been tossed around by a hurricane and thrown back down to earth. His fingers scraped the hair back from his forehead.

“Are you telling me that God really exists?”

“I’m not allowed to talk about it,” I said, thinking it best to cut this conversation off before it went any further. “Some things are beyond human understanding. I’d get into a lot of trouble for trying to explain it. We shouldn’t even speak his name.”

Xavier nodded.

“But there is an afterlife?” he said. “A heaven?”

“Without a doubt.”

“So . . .” He rubbed his chin pensively. “If there’s a Heaven, it stands to reason that . . . there must also be . . .”

I finished his thought. “Yes, there’s that too. But please, no more questions for now.”

Xavier massaged his temples as though trying to figure out the best way to process all this information.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know it must be overwhelming.”

He dismissed my concern, more focused on getting a cogent picture in his head. “Just let me get this straight,” he said. “You’re angels on a mission to help mankind and you’ve been assigned to Venus Cove?”

“Actually Gabriel’s an archangel,” I corrected. “But otherwise, yes.”

“Well, that explains why he’s so hard to impress,” said Xavier flippantly.

“You’re the only person that knows this,” I said. “You can’t breathe a word of it to anyone.”

“Who am I going to tell?” he asked. “Who would believe me anyway?”

“Good point.”

He laughed suddenly.

“My girlfriend is an angel,” he said and then repeated it more loudly, changing the emphasis, testing out how the words sounded. “My
girlfriend
is an
angel
.”

“Xavier, keep your voice down,” I warned.

Spoken aloud it sounded so outrageous and yet so simple at the same time that I couldn’t help but giggle as well. To anyone else, Xavier’s use of the word
angel
would have sounded like nothing more than a lovesick teenager professing his admiration. Only the two of us knew differently and now we both shared a secret—a dangerous secret that brought us closer than ever. It was as if we had just sealed the bond between us, closed the gap, and made it final.

“I was so worried that you wouldn’t want to know me once you found out.” I sighed, relief flooding through me.

“Are you kidding?” Xavier reached out and curled a lock of my hair around his finger. “Surely I’ve got to be the luckiest guy in the world.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’ve got my own little piece of Heaven right here.”

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. I nuzzled against his chest, breathing in his scent.

“Can you promise not to ask too many questions?”

“If you answer just one,” Xavier replied. “I suppose this makes you and me a big no-no?” He clicked his tongue and wagged his finger to emphasize the point. I was happy to see that the shock had passed and that he was behaving a little more like his old self.

“Not just big,” I said. “The biggest.”

“Don’t worry, Beth; there’s nothing I love more than a challenge.”

The Covenant

“So what happens now?” Xavier asked.

“How do you mean?”

“Now that I know about you?”

“I honestly can’t tell you. We’ve never had a situation like this before,” I admitted.

“So you being an angel doesn’t mean . . .” He hesitated.

“Doesn’t mean I have an answer for everything,” I concluded for him.

“I just assumed it would be one of the perks.”

“Sadly, no.”

“Well, it seems to me that so long as no one else knows, you should be safe. And when it comes to secrets, I’m a vault. Ask my friends.”

“I know I can trust you. But there is one more thing you should know.” I paused. This was going to be the hardest part—more difficult even than what I’d just done.

“Okay . . .” Xavier seemed to be steeling himself this time.

“You have to understand that sooner or later this mission is going to end, and we’ll be going home,” I said.

“Home as in . . .” He turned his eyes upward to the sky.

“Exactly.”

Even though he must have been expecting the answer, signs of strain suddenly materialized on his face. His ocean eyes darkened, and his mouth turned into an angry scowl.

“If you leave, will you ever come back?” he asked in a tight voice.

“I don’t think so,” I said quietly. “But if I do, it’s not likely to be anytime soon or even to the same place.”

Xavier’s body stiffened beside me. “So you don’t get a say?” he said with a note of disbelief in his voice. “Whatever happened to free will?”

“That gift was given to humankind, remember? It doesn’t apply to us. Look, if there’s a way for me to stay I haven’t figured it out yet,” I continued. “I knew when I came here that it wasn’t going to be permanent, that eventually we’d have to leave. But I didn’t expect to find you, and now that I have . . .”

“Well, you can’t go,” Xavier said simply. By his tone he might have been giving a weather report:
Today there will be late showers.
He spoke with a confidence that challenged anyone to defy the decision.

“I feel the same way,” I said, kneading my fingers into his shoulders in an attempt to smooth out the visible tension, “but it’s not up to me.”

“It’s your life,” Xavier countered.

“No, that’s not quite true. I’m kind of on a lease arrangement.”

“We’ll just have to renegotiate the terms then.”

“How do you propose doing that? It’s not like making a phone call.”

“Let me think about it.”

I had to admit his determination was impressive and so typically human. I wriggled closer to snuggle under his arm.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore tonight,” I suggested, reluctant to ruin the moment by discussing things we didn’t have the power to change. For now, it was enough that he wanted me to stay and that he was prepared to take on heavenly powers to make that happen. “We’re here together right now, let’s not worry about the future. Okay?”

Xavier nodded and responded when I pressed my lips against his. After a moment the tension seemed to slip away, and we fell back onto the sand. I could feel the contours of our bodies fitting perfectly together. His arms wound around my waist as I ran my fingers through his soft hair, stroking his face. I’d never kissed anyone before him, but I felt as if a stranger had taken over my body—a stranger who knew exactly what she was doing. I tilted my head to plant kisses along his jawline, down to the base of his neck and along his collarbone. He stopped breathing for a moment. His hands came up to hold my face, stroking my hair and tucking it behind my ears.

I wasn’t sure how long we stayed that way, tangled together on the sand, sometimes locked in an embrace, sometimes looking up at the moon or the rugged cliffs above us. All I knew was that when I became aware of the hour, more time had passed than I’d thought. I pulled myself up, dusting sand from my clothes and skin.

“It’s getting late,” I said. “I have to get home.”

The sight of Xavier, sprawled on the sand, his hair ruffled, a dreamy half-smile on his lips, was so alluring that I was tempted to sink back down beside him. But I managed to compose myself and turned to head back the way we’d come.

“Uh, Beth,” Xavier said, getting up. “You might want to um . . . cover up.”

It took me a moment to realize that my wings were still fully visible through my torn dress. “Oh right, thanks!” He tossed me his sweatshirt, which I pulled over my head. It was way too big for me and reached halfway down my thighs, but it was warm, comfortable, and smelled deliciously of him. When we finally parted, I ran the rest of the way home feeling like he was still beside me. I knew I would sleep with his shirt on that night and commit the scent to memory.

When I reached the overgrown backyard of Byron, I raked my fingers hastily through my hair and rearranged my clothes in an attempt to look like I’d been for an innocent social stroll rather than a secret tryst on a moonlit beach. Then I slumped down in the heavy wooden swing, which creaked under my weight. I rested my cheek against the rough rope that was looped around a gnarled branch of the oak tree in our yard and looked toward the house. I could see through the window to the living room, where my brother and sister were sitting in the lamplight, Ivy knitting a pair of gloves and Gabriel strumming his guitar. Looking at them, I felt the icy tendrils of guilt wrapping around my chest.

There was a full moon and the garden was awash with blue light, illuminating a crumbling statue that stood among the high grass. It was of a severe angel, looking Heavenward, its hands folded over its chest in a gesture of devotion. Gabriel thought it a poor replica and somewhat offensive, but Ivy said it was sweet. Personally I had always thought it was a little eerie. I wasn’t sure if it was the light playing tricks on me or just my imagination, but as I gazed at the statue in the semidarkness, I thought I saw one of its stone fingers twitch in accusation and its eyes roll forward to look directly at me.

The illusion lasted but a second, long enough for me to leap off the swing, causing it to collide with the tree trunk with a resounding
thwack.
Before I could examine the angel again and determine whether my sanity was in question, I was distracted by the sound of the glass doors sliding open. Ivy came out onto the deck, looking like a wraith. The moonlight pooled across her snowy skin, highlighting the blue-green veins in her arms and chest.

“Bethany, is that you?” Her voice poured out like honey, and the expression on her face was painfully trusting. My stomach twisted into a knot and I felt sick. She spotted me half hidden by the shadow of the tree. “What are you doing over there?” she asked. “Come inside.”

Everything was reassuringly familiar in the house. The yellow lamplight reflected off the floorboards, Phantom’s pawprint-patterned bed was in its usual place beside the sofa, and Ivy’s carefully arranged selection of classical art books and interior-decorating magazines sat on the low coffee table.

Gabriel looked up when I came in.

“Have a good night?” he asked with a smile.

I tried to return the smile but found that the muscles in my face were frozen. I felt as though the weight of what I’d done was pressing down on me, like a wave crashing over me, forcing my head underwater so I couldn’t breathe. When I was with Xavier, it was easy to forget that I had any other place in the world, that I owed allegiance to anyone else.

I didn’t regret revealing the truth to Xavier, but I hated subterfuge, especially where my family was concerned. I was terrified of how my siblings would react when they found out what I’d done. Could I somehow make them understand why I’d done it? But most of all I was afraid that the powers in the Kingdom would end our mission or demand my immediate withdrawal. Either way, I would be taken away from earth, away from the one person who mattered most to me.

Gabriel must have noticed I was wearing Xavier’s sweatshirt, but he refrained from comment. Although part of me wanted to confess everything on the spot, I forced myself to stay silent. I apologized for being late, said I was tired and excused myself, refusing the offer of cocoa and cookies that Ivy had baked that afternoon.

Gabriel called to me as I reached the foot of the stairs, and I waited as he strode over. My heart fluttered in my chest. My brother was frighteningly observant, and I was sure he’d noticed that I wasn’t myself. I waited for him to examine my face, ask awkward questions, or make some accusation, but all he did was lay one hand against my cheek so that I felt the cool metal of his rings and gently kiss my forehead. His exquisite face looked so at ease that night. His blond hair had escaped from the band he sometimes used to tie it up. His rain-colored eyes had lost some of their sternness, and he was looking at me with brotherly affection.

“I’m proud of you, Bethany,” he said. “You’ve made great progress in such a short time, and you are learning to make better decisions. Take Phantom up with you—he was fretting for you earlier.”

It took all my resolve to hold back my tears.

Upstairs, as I lay in bed with Phantom’s warm body beside me, I let them spill freely. I swore I could feel my lies slithering inside me like snakes, wrapping themselves around me and constricting. I felt they were squeezing the air from my lungs, tightening around my heart. Aside from the raking guilt that was coursing like a poison through my body, there was also a terrible fear. When I woke up, would I still be on earth? I didn’t know. I wanted to pray but I couldn’t. I was too ashamed to speak to Our Father after the sins I’d committed. I’d only held on to my secret for a few hours and already I was undone.

Mingled with my guilt and shame was a new latent anger at the thought that my fate wasn’t mine to determine. Xavier had put that idea into my head. My relationship with him would be decided for me, and the worst part of it was that I didn’t know when it would happen. My time on earth came with an unknown expiration date. What if I didn’t even get to say good-bye to him? I kicked off my bedclothes, even though my skin felt as cold as ice. I was beginning to think I couldn’t envisage an existence without Xavier. I didn’t want to.

Hours later my thoughts were still raging, and nothing had changed except that my pillow was damp with tears. I drifted in and out of sleep. Sometimes I woke and sat bolt upright, scanning the darkness for a sign of something or someone come to deal out my punishment.
Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.
At one point I woke to see a hooded figure that I imagined had come to seek retribution, but it turned out to be my coat hanging from a stand next to my door. I was afraid to close my eyes after that, as if doing so would make me more vulnerable. It was irrational to feel that way. I knew that if they did come for me, it wouldn’t make any difference whether I was asleep or awake. I would be utterly powerless.

By the time morning came I was an emotional ruin. When I washed up and glanced in the mirror, I realized that I looked it too. My normally pale face was even whiter, and the circles under my eyes had deepened. I now even looked the part of an angel that had fallen from grace.

When I found the kitchen empty I knew immediately that something was wrong. I couldn’t remember a morning when Gabriel hadn’t been waiting to greet me with breakfast already cooking. I had repeatedly told him I could make it myself, but like a doting parent, he insisted that he enjoyed doing it. Today the table was empty and the room was quiet. I told myself that this was nothing but a minor deviation from routine. I went to the fridge to pour myself a glass of orange juice, but my hands were trembling so much that I spilled half of it across the counter. I mopped up the mess with a paper towel, fighting against the fear that was clutching at my throat.

I felt the presence of Ivy and Gabriel before I saw them or heard them come in. They stood together in the doorway, united in silent condemnation, their faces immobile and expressionless. I didn’t need them to say the words aloud. They
knew.
Was it my restlessness that had betrayed me? I should have expected their reaction, but it still stung like a slap in the face. For several long minutes I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I wanted to run and hide my face in Gabriel’s shirt, beg forgiveness, and feel his arms close around me; but I knew that I would find no comfort there. Despite the common portrayal of angels as endlessly loving and compassionate, I knew there was another side to them, one that could be harsh and unforgiving. The forgiveness was reserved for humans. They were always let off the hook. We had a tendency to regard them as infants, to conclude that the “poor things” didn’t know any better. But for me, the expectations were higher. I wasn’t a human, I was one of them, and there was no excuse.

There was no sound but the dripping of the tap in the sink and my ragged breathing. I couldn’t bear the silence. It would have been easier had they attacked me outright, berated me, or thrown me out; anything but the deafening silence.

“I know how this must look to you, but I had to tell him!” I blurted.

Ivy’s face was frozen in a mask of horror but Gabriel’s had turned to stone.