Wounded Wings (Cupid Chronicles) (22 page)

Chapter 32

Two agonizing weeks, and only one thing was miserably clear to Elijah. He loved Naomi. Hopelessly.

He may have severed all ties with her in the physical sense, not seeing her or speaking to her . . . but his heart and soul still yearned for her in a way that had never happened with Sarah.

Why?

He struggled daily through his prayers, his conversations with Pastor Donovan always at the forefront of his mind. Why, if Father were still angry with his betrayal, would He have prophesized his visit to Pastor?

Forgive yourself.

The words whispered across his heart like a balm. Not sure where they came from, he shoved them back as wishful musings.

He sipped his coffee and leaned against his kitchen counter, gazing sightlessly around the tiny apartment that had been his home for the past few months.

Home.

Strange, he’d never thought that of any place other than Heaven since taking his fall. He supposed it was time to begin a search for a place to make one. Perhaps that’s what he’d been doing all along.

His thumb caressed the handle of his NYC mug, reminding him of his tumultuous start on his human journey. The lobster magnet on the fridge from Maine told of his pit stop in that state. Not a good one. He had bits and pieces of his travels, all ending here in New Destiny.

What would he take from here?

He spun and dumped the now cold coffee down the drain and slammed the mug down. Nothing. He would take nothing from here. He was already leaving his heart behind. That was enough.

He moved toward the bedroom, but stopped short at the furious pounding on his door.

“Elijah Smith! Open up! Sheriff’s office!”

His heart slammed into his throat at Sheriff Shanahan’s authoritative order. This could not be good. He swallowed convulsively and made his way to the door.

If anything, the pounding got louder. “Elijah! Don’t make me get a warrant. Open this door. Now!”

Something thunked in Elijah’s gut at the use of his full name. Nobody in town knew it other than Sharla. Slowly, he unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door open.

The Sheriff’s thunderous face greeted him. “Eli.”

“Yes.”

“We need to talk. Let me in.” When Elijah didn’t move right away, the Sheriff shifted anxiously. “I mean it, Eli. Don’t make me force the issue.”

Elijah nodded and stepped back to open the door wide.

Sheriff Shanahan stepped inside and eyed him like a cougar might eye his prey as he made his way into the small living area.

Elijah closed the door and stood, frozen, unsure what to say. What to do. He knew he was guilty of many things, but his transgressions were of the Heavenly realm. What could the Sheriff possibly have to be so upset about? He waited, silent.

The Sheriff paced a few steps, his gaze darting around the apartment as if trying to assess its contents. He finally stopped, his eyes riveted on Elijah. “Who are you, Eli?”

His heart froze in his chest. Ice poured through his veins. “What do you mean?”

Brows thundered down. “I think you know what I mean. Who are you . . .
really
? And don’t say ‘Elijah Smith,’ because I got that.” He paused, eyeing Elijah with deadly intent. “And think carefully about your answer, because it could determine whether I haul your ass to jail or not.”

Elijah couldn’t move. Could scarcely breathe. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”

The Sheriff ran an aggravated hand across his brow. “Can you explain to me why the first record of your existence is about two years ago in New York? How is it you just seemed to come out of thin air?” His eyes honed in dangerously. “And why does it seem like you’re on the run?”

Elijah’s mouth fell open. So many things he wanted to say. So many things he couldn’t say. “I . . .”

“Naomi thinks you’re dangerous.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Are you on the run, Eli?”

He averted his gaze. “Not like you think.”

“Then tell me. Because right now I’m thinking all sorts of crazy things, and all of them culminate in the ways you’ve hurt my best friend. And I’ve got to tell you that really pisses me off. So please tell me why I shouldn’t kick your ass then kick you out of my town.”

Elijah sucked in a breath as the shredded heart he had left kick started at the mention of Naomi. And he’d hurt her. God.

“I’m not dangerous. I swear it.” He swallowed and met the Sheriff’s steely gaze in a deadlock for several tense seconds.

“Still, the whole thing is suspicious. And you—”

Again, a knock sounded. This time, Elijah found the interruption a welcome thing. He waited a moment to see what the Sheriff would say, but when the man didn’t move, he went to answer the knock.

He smiled in relief when he found Michael at the door. Then his smile fell when he saw the wad of cash Michael held outstretched in his hand.

“Sorry, Brother,” Michael said. “Old Troy said your car was beyond hope. No go.” He brushed past him into the apartment and put the cash on the bar. “But—” He spied the Sheriff and Elijah froze, waiting to see what would happen. They all stared at each other for a long moment.

“Sheriff,” Michael said.

The Sheriff tipped his head. “Michael. How are you?” Though he didn’t seem at all interested in the answer. His tight expression spoke volumes and the air was thick with tension.

“Fine.” Michael’s gaze darted between them. “Everything all right here?”

Elijah nodded. “Sure.”

“Just asking Eli here a few questions,” the Sheriff said at the same time.

Something shifted in Michael’s gaze as he studied the Sheriff’s face. “I sure hope there isn’t any trouble. I think we all know Eli here is as good as they come. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.” He stepped closer to the Sheriff, his impressive size seeming to take up the room, his aura almost seeming to . . . glow? “Don’t you agree, Sheriff?”

The officer stood still as a statue. No one seemed to breathe. Elijah could do nothing but stare as Michael’s entire body began to pulse with a singular pearlescent aura.

One he recognized.

Elijah’s brain immediately drained of all blood and he withered into the closest chair. How could the Sheriff not see that?

A fresh pain lanced his heart at all he was missing in his work for Father. He glanced up. Michael’s work?

“. . . I suppose,” he heard the Sheriff say, his expression much less angry.

He’d missed their conversation, but he knew the angelic intention Michael used. Something lost to him.

“I’m sure it’s a simple misunderstanding. A paperwork glitch or something,” Michael said with a smile in his voice.

The Sheriff mumbled a benign agreement, his eyes grazing over Elijah as if he were barely even there. “I didn’t realize you and Eli were old friends.”

“Oh, sure. Practically brothers. Our fathers are related.” He glanced back and Elijah’s heart tripped over itself at the glimmer he saw in Michael’s eyes. “We just didn’t recognize each other at first when we ran into each other here in New Destiny.” He grinned. “Small world, huh?”

The Sheriff’s stance relaxed a hair as he seemed to regard him in a new light. “Indeed.”

“Well.” Michael interrupted his scrutiny, his glow intensifying. “I do believe I saw Miz Delaney down at the diner and she was asking about you.” He waited until he had the Sheriff’s attention again. “Were you going to be joining her for breakfast this morning?” Pause. “I’ll stay here and keep Eli company.”

They stood eyeball to eyeball, silent. Determination and protectiveness against angelic intention.

Divine mission won out.

The Sheriff finally tipped his head. “I believe I will.” He turned to Elijah. “I’ll be watching.”

In other words:
Don’t do anything stupid
.

It may already be too late for that, but Elijah nodded anyway. “Goodbye, Sheriff.”

They waited, stone silent, as the Sheriff saw himself out.

Elijah spoke first, his voice shaking. “Do you have a prophecy for me as well, Brother?”

Michael’s brows dipped slightly, then his shimmer lit the room, making Elijah squint against the light. “I’m no prophet, Elijah. That was my brother, Jophiel’s, mission with the Pastor for both of your healing.” His eyes seemed to delve right into the soul Elijah would swear he no longer had. “It seems to have done the trick.”

The glow dimmed and Elijah studied the man before him, his mind unclear, his heart swirling with hope. “But . . . Aren’t you . . .?”

Michael’s eyes didn’t waver. “You know what I am, Brother. But my mission is not of prophecy.” He blinked, pulsing with luminosity.

“Then what?” Did Father have a message for him? Surely not Crossovers . . . not yet. That would be too merciful.

Michael studied him as if taking pity on him. “Love, Elijah. Surely you know. It’s always been love.”

Michael watched Elijah’s face turn as pale as a fresh set of angel’s wings.

“What . . . what do you mean?” His voice came out as a pained whisper. “How could that be?” He dropped his head into his hands. “I don’t believe you. You must be a Dark One sent to torture me.”

Michael let the softness of Father’s love fill every atom of his human vessel. He breathed in as the light flooded his body in a pleasantly warm rush.

Gratitude filled him. This was the moment. Finally.

“Elijah.”

No response as tears coursed down the other man’s face. Silent sobs wracked his body.

Michael yearned to go to him, but the mission was delicate. He needed to tread very carefully. “Elijah,” he repeated, firmer. “Look at me, Brother.”

“I’m not your brother.” Wounded eyes snapped up.

Michael felt his life force dip and resurge. He was doing the right thing. “Well, you may no longer be with us at home, but you will always be a brother in my heart. And Father still loves you. Enough that he sent me and the gift of your true love.”

Elijah blinked, his eyes still holding disbelief. “True love? How is that possible? I’m fallen because of . . .” He choked, looked away. “Because of my
love
for a human. I broke a commandment.” He fixed his gaze back on Michael, the unspoken entreaty in his eyes to be contradicted shining clearly. “There is no redemption for that. We both know this.”

Michael allowed his wings to unfurl, their essence lighting up the entire apartment like a strobe light.

Elijah blinked against the brightness, then his eyes filled with fresh tears. But Michael knew he needed to be reminded of what he’d lost in order to embrace the gift of his future.

“Elijah, Brother . . .” He held up a hand to stop Elijah’s interruption. “What you’re failing to understand is that you have no need of redemption.” He waited a beat as his words registered.

“Wha—?”

“You broke no commandments and Father has never been angry.” He gentled his tone and his light. “You were the only one punishing yourself, Elijah. And you’re the only one who can forgive yourself.”

A myriad of emotions played across Elijah’s face. Denial. Shock. Fear. Hope. Despair.

“But . . .”

“But, what?” Michael asked, hoping against hope that he would understand. That he would accept this gift.

“Sarah. I loved her. I did break the commandment. Surely—”

Michael’s heart broke a little at the crushed expression on Elijah’s face. He’d tortured himself all this time for no reason. But he needed to understand. It was meant to be. All of it. “No. You simply saw Sarah’s purity of spirit and loved her like you would a fellow brother or sister, Elijah, because she was so close to crossing over. It wasn’t sexual or romantic.” He studied his eyes, searching for understanding. “Surely you feel the difference now that you have your soulmate.”

Elijah bolted out of his chair. “My
what
?” His eyes grew wide, frightened. “Angels don’t have soulmates. What are you saying?” He stopped, ran a hand through his hair. “Wait. What am I talking about? I’m so confused. I’m not . . . I’m no longer an angel.”

Michael’s angelic heart ached painfully. But he could not lie. He wouldn’t. “No, you’re not. And you were never meant to be, Elijah.”

Shocked, pained eyes flew to his. “I . . . what?” His words floated out on a coarse whisper.

Michael bowed his head. How could this be Father’s plan? But he knew he couldn’t question it. It wasn’t his place. He took a breath, steadied his light, and met Elijah’s gaze. “I’m sorry, Brother. But Father always has a perfect plan, and He knew you were meant for
this
world.” He exhaled. “Not the Heavenlies.”

“I see.”

“I’m glad.” Michael smiled.

Elijah’s face steeled, his eyes full of determination. Father was miraculous, His plan so perfect. He should’ve known— “Well, then, I suppose there’s no more to say.”

“What . . . what do you mean?” Michael felt his light threatening to choke him.

Elijah spun on his heel and grabbed his keys, wallet, and the cash Michael had just returned. He shifted to face him again, his gaze crystal clear. “I’ve spent these last months feeling trapped between two worlds. Now I know why. But I think I just don’t really fit into either one.” He snagged his jacket and brushed past to the front door.

Even Michael felt the hum of electricity as his life force stretched out and enveloped him. But it snapped back as Elijah opened the door and faced him.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do here. What Father has tried to do. But I’m just not worthy. I’m afraid I won’t be seeing you again, Brother.” He stepped out and closed the door without even a goodbye, and Michael’s heart nearly burst with pain.