Terminus (12 page)

“Ha! Try eight.”

“Just guessing.”

“Thank you, really.”  She smiled.  “For everything.”

“Come and meet me here in the lobby in the morning—you’ll be famished, no doubt. We’ll have breakfast.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she said, stepping into the light. 

“How about, ‘See you later?’”  Just as he leaned forward to get a good look at her face, she turned around and went into the elevator. 

“Later.”

No doubt it was the physical form that hung on Nick like armor, but he actually felt tired.  He went over to a sofa, sank into it, and found that he could actually smell the wonderful scent of leather and feel its buttery soft surface.  Unfortunately, he also felt the tightening in his chest and shortness of breath.  That all too familiar manifestation of stress had returned.

He’d intervened without authorization.

Revealed himself to a human.

Touched her meaningfully while perceptible.

Surely he had failed again.  How would he explain it to Lena?  Through the ages, his rashness and indiscretions had...

Did he really care? 

His smartphone chimed.

A text message from Lena: 

Meet me in five or ten.  Construct of your choice.

29

FOR ONCE, NICK WAS GRATEFUL that despite their supernatural abilities, angels were neither omniscient nor omnipresent.  Lena had no idea where he was, much less what he’d done.  But where best to meet his alluring yet intimidating new supervisor?

He thought about it for all of two seconds, then appeared on a level rock that rose from the waves pounding the La Jolla shores.  Upon arrival he wove a thin construct of invisibility to human perception.   About half a dozen seals barked loudly and dove into the water.  That was the thing about animals, they often perceived the presence of angels.  Dogs always did, and they caused the most trouble. 

Nevertheless, he loved this part of the planet around sunrise.  Any minute now the first sun rays would strike the rolling waves.

He sat on the rock surface.

“Crikey!”  A cold wet sensation in the seat of his pants jolted him to his feet.  He nearly slipped. 

“Aw, you’re wet.”  Lena said from behind him.  He turned to face her. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“How did it go with your last subject?”

“The crazy suicidal woman?”

“Did she do it?”

“Not exactly.  Bit of a complication—nothing major.”  Best not to expound further.  “In any case, it’s only a matter of time before she tries again.”

“What happened?”

“Right, well...she was there at the bridge…. ”

“But she didn’t jump?”

“You know, I don’t understand what the hurry is.”

Just then a huge wave crashed against the rock, sending frigid water over them both.  Nick gasped for breath and wiped water from his face.  Still drenched, he looked at Lena.  She was staring at him—completely dry.

“Why are you still in your mortal form?”

“I thought I’d switched out of it,” he said.

“Apparently not.”  

She touched his shoulder, and all the water from his hair and clothes lifted to become a myriad of drops and rivulets that sparkled like gems in the early morning light.  She smiled, twirled them around Nick’s face, then sent them back into the ocean. 

“There.  Better?”

“Thank you.”  Nick tried again and this time felt certain he’d exited his physical form.  “I’m usually quite good at transitions.”

“Of course you are.”  Lena slipped her arm around his and took him to the edge of the rock.  The seals who’d fled were poking their heads out of the water, observing the two of them.  Lena hissed at them, and they dashed off as though a great white had just surfaced.  She laughed and looked at Nick.  “So tell me what happened.”

“Look, I know she’s dangerous to the future and all that, but really, what’s the rush?  What harm could she possibly do?”

Lena narrowed her eyes.  “Just tell me what happened!”

Nick glared back at her.  “Testy, aren’t we?”

“Nick!”  She squeezed his arm—not with much force, but it hurt enough to make him want to groan in pain.  He managed to stifle it and act as though he’d felt nothing.  He
should
have felt nothing. 

“At the moment just before she jumped, some man in a car got out, caught her by the arm, and convinced her not to do it.”

“And you just
let it happen
?  Didn’t you at least try to use a construct to stop him?”

“It happened so fast I—”

“Given the scope and importance of this assignment, I’d have expected you to take some initiative, think outside the box.  But you just acted like some kind of...I don’t know, boy scout.  Why—”

Another wave threatened.  Just as it was about to crash over them, Nick captured it into a sphere of energy, suspended it above them for a fraction of a second, then shot the entire mass of sea water up into the atmosphere.  It all exploded in a circular spray, misting outward around the outline of the moon, faint but visible in the daytime.  The effect of the resulting millions of microscopic droplets acting as prisms was a pale rainbow halo around the moon in three concentric circles.

“Impressive,” Lena said.

“I learn from the best.  Though it’s not quite as impressive as what you did outside of Grand Central when you sent all that red destructive energy into a nuclear explosion in the sky.”

She admired the show for a while.  Then, still gazing into the night sky, she sighed heavily. 

“Nick, it’s important you complete this assignment if you want to pass probation and start on the real work.”

“I’ll get her to do it one way or another, okay?”

“Wait.”  She stepped back and gave him a probing look.  “You’re not getting attached, are you?”

The word
attached
felt like an icepick stabbing him, but she mustn’t know.

“Hardly!   I don’t think I could ever feel anything but scorn for this sort of mortal.”

“What sort?”

“You know, the kind that leads millions of people astray.   And looks like something the cat dragged in, you might be interested to know.  And smells even worse. ”  

The bell of a fishing boat tolled in the distance.  Briny air filled Nick’s senses, soothing air.  Lena smiled. 

“Just focus on your assigned baddies, okay?”  She made a pouty face.  “I know it’s difficult changing jobs so abruptly.  That’s why I’m going to give you a little more time to complete these assignments so you can be fast-tracked to a promotion.”

“Good.  I hate babysitting these humans.  They can be so...”

“Irritating?”

“To say the least.”

“Infuriating?”

“More often than not.”

She stared out into the inky ocean as if searching for more adverbs.   

“Irresponsible, small-minded, arrogant...
evil
!”

Taken slightly aback, Nick gave her a thin smile. 

“Right, well…They’re all made in the image of the Father, aren’t they?” he said.  “There’s got to be
some
good in them.”

For a moment her expression softened, giving way to an almost child-like innocence that seemed to transform her into someone he barely recognized. 

“What is it, Lena?”

“Nothing...You just reminded me of someone.”

“Really? Who?”

Sounding vulnerable—which in itself was astonishing—she whispered, “Nick, what is it you want, more than anything else?”

He gave it some thought.  Despite the connection they seemed to be making, he didn’t feel comfortable opening up to her. 

“I don’t know, really.  I was hoping a job change might help me find out.  How about you?”

She set her lips, didn’t look at him, and when she answered him her words came reluctantly—apparently she didn’t feel any more comfortable opening up than he did. 

“I just want to be able to make sense of everything.  I want a world where things are in order.  Where the evil this entire race of humans is so capable of is eradicated.  Where those who deserve to be in charge are, and those who do wrong are brought to justice.”

“A tall order indeed.  I suppose you’ve some idea about how that can happen?”

Finally, her eyes met his.  “Together, we can make it happen.” She put her hand on his, a gesture that felt disturbingly intimate.  “It’s all about being aligned.”

“With what, or whom?”

“Those with the power to help.”  Gradually, the innocence and vulnerability ebbed like the tide pulling out.  Her feisty sensual charm returned with a vengeance in her posture, her eyes, her curling lips.  “You’re in a good position to make a difference, Nikolai.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

She put her hand around the back of his neck.  Pulled his face down so close  their lips nearly touched. 

“But make no mistake, you gorgeous creature.  If you fail, after all the latitude and special treatment you’ve been shown...”

She was as lethal as she was alluring. 
Fight or flight
.  Nick pulled away, grabbed her wrists, and held her in place.

“I don’t respond well to threats.”

“Mmmm...that’s good, because I’d rather motivate you with rewards.”  She moved in close to whisper in his ear.  “Go and check on your third assignment, then come back to suicide girl later in the morning.  You’ve got till midnight to
persuade
her.” 

Nick could hear her laughing as she vanished from his construct. 

30

MARIA HADN’T ANSWERED LITO’S CALLS for two days now.  Her condo in Mission Valley looked like it had been ransacked.  No sense trying to use the GPS to track her location, she knew to shut off her cell phone.

He entered the condo with his spare key.  Maria never liked that he kept a copy, but since he paid for everything she couldn’t really argue.  And besides, he’d only used the key once, to scare off a USD college punk who had gotten the idea in his empty head that he could spend the night.  For just a moment Lito was back when life was simple, when all he had to do was to punch a bully in the face to teach him not to mess with his baby sister. 

Awwwwwwk!

A raven gawked down at him from the eaves dripping with last night’s rainwater.  It cocked its head, stared at him with one glassy eye, and proceeded to mock him.  Repeatedly.  Every caw seemed louder and more disdainful.

He swore and reached around his back for his gun.  All the anger he felt for Alfonso coalesced for a brief moment into a focused beam of hatred aimed at the hideous raven.  But the thought of awakening the neighbors at 7:15 AM with the crack of a Baretta Bobcat convinced him to restrain himself.

“Next time, little
diabolo
.”  He smiled.  “Next time.”

Lito locked the door and walked to his red 135i.  Owning a Beamer wasn’t something he really cared about, he only did it to keep up the image of success and power.  He did like that smell of fine leather, though.

But as he climbed into the cockpit, the smell brought little comfort—he was too aware of the empty passenger seat. 

Got to find a replacement for Alfonso.

But who?  Until he learned of Alfonso’s flirting with the Suarez syndicate, there’d been no one else he trusted. 

As he drove out of the parking area, the foreboding bass line palpitations from the
ConfutatisMaledictis
movement of Mozart’s
Requiem
poured forth from the speakers.  The bright morning sun hid behind a gray cloud even as Lito put his sunglasses over his eyes, from which a solitary tear rolled down his cheek.

Rapt in the power of  music, Lito never noticed the black Cadillac following him.

At the top of his lungs, he sang with the male chorus:

Confutatis

Maledictis

Flammisacribus addictis
...

31

HOPE LAY AWAKE IN THE KING-SIZED BED in the hotel room so graciously purchased on the handsome stranger’s dime.  She stared at the rectangular glow on the wall now changing from orange to bright yellow as the rising sun cast its light through the window. 

Wrapped in the sheets, she was completely naked, wishing she could simply enjoy how clean everything felt, how nice the rose-scented pillows smelled, how good her skin felt after her first shower in a week—all thanks to that generous man who’d saved her.  

Had this been another time, another life, she might well have thought more about the nice man’s looks: beautiful eyes, chiseled features, and oh yes, very strong arms. 

But no.

She allowed no such thoughts, not since the final nail was hammered into the coffin of her soul several years ago.  Never again would she allow herself to desire anything other than to escape the miserable life in which anyone she’d ever allowed into her heart had either beaten, molested, or otherwise betrayed her.

The one drop of rain in that barren desert had been taken away and along with it, Hope’s will to live.  Being rescued by a Clive Owen-ish hero couldn’t change that—he’d only prolonged her pain.

She sighed, reached for the phone, and dialed.

“Good morning, front desk.  How can I help you?”

“Couldn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“I’m sorry, Ms...Matheson.  Is there anything we can get you?”

Clive
had
said to put everything on his credit card. 

“I need a bottle of Ambien.  They’re sleeping pills.”

“Of course.  We can call in a prescription for you and have them delivered.”

Prescription.  Right.  The last doctor she saw refused to give her any because he thought—he
knew
she was suicidal.  Which was why she’d not been to any kind of doctor, even though as a homeless person for nearly a year she probably could have gotten to one through public assistance.  Too complicated, too much trouble.

“Never mind,” she said.  “I’ll be fine.”

“Is there anything else, perhaps?”

“It’s all right.  I’ll try something else.”  Which was to say, another method of ending it all.  She hung up, hugged the pillow to her chest, and curled into a fetal position.  Whoever said “it’s all  in your head” had no idea what it meant to be truly depressed.  The physical pain radiated from her gut all through her chest—the
last
place it went was her head, though that hurt like the devil too.