Александра Адорнетто - Halo

“Whatever happened to that hot British guy?” Molly asked me two weeks after her rescue.

She was sitting on the end of my bed, filing her nails. “What was his name . . . Jack, James?”

“Jake,” I said. “And he left to go back to England.”

“Shame,” Molly commented. “I liked his tattoos. Do you think I should get one? I was thinking one that says, ‘leirbag.’ ”

“You want a tattoo of Gabriel’s name backward?”

“Damn, is it that obvious? I’ll have to think of something else.”

“Gabriel doesn’t like tattoos,” I said. “He says the human body is not a billboard.”

“Thanks, Bethie,” Molly said gratefully. “Lucky I have you around to stop me from making bad decisions.”

I found it hard to talk to Molly the way I used to. Something had changed within me. I was the only member of my family who hadn’t recovered from the conflict with Jake. In fact, weeks after the fire, I still hadn’t left the house. At first it was because my wings, which were badly burned, needed time to heal properly. After that it was simply because I lacked the courage. I was happy to be a ghost. After all my previous thirst for human experiences, I now wanted nothing more than the haven of home. I couldn’t think of Jake without tears springing to my eyes. I tried not to let the others see, but when I was alone, my self-control failed and I cried openly—not only for the pain he caused but also for what he might have been if he’d only allowed me to help him. I didn’t hate him. Hatred was a powerful emotion, and I felt too drained for that. I found myself thinking of Jake as one of the saddest creatures of the universe. He had come to willfully blacken our lives, but he had achieved nothing really. Nevertheless, I tried not to think about what might have happened if Gabriel hadn’t stormed my prison. But the thought kept creeping into my mind and driving me back to the safety of my bedroom.

I sometimes watched the world go by through my window. The spring drifted into summer, and I felt the days lengthening. I noticed the sunshine arrived earlier and lasted longer.

I watched some sparrows build their nests in the eaves of the house. In the distance I could see waves lapping lazily at the shore.

Xavier’s visit was the only part of the day I looked forward to. Of course Ivy and Gabriel were a great comfort, but they always seemed slightly detached, still strongly connected to our old home. In my mind, Xavier was an embodiment of earth—rock solid, stable, and secure. I had worried that his experience with Jake Thorn might change him in some way, but his reaction to everything that happened was to have no reaction at all. He threw himself back into the task of looking after me and seemed to have accepted the supernatural world without question.

“Maybe I don’t want answers,” he said when I quizzed him about it one afternoon. “I’ve seen enough to believe it.”

“But aren’t you curious?”

“It’s like you said.” He sat down beside me and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

“There are some things beyond human comprehension. I know that there’s a Heaven and a Hell, and I’ve seen what can come out of both. For now that’s all I need to know. Questions would serve no purpose right now.”

I smiled. “When did you become such a wise old soul?”

He shrugged. “Well, I have been hanging out with a crew that’s been around since creation. You’d hope I’d get some perspective, having an angel as my other half.”

“You’d call me your other half?” I asked dreamily, tracing my finger along the leather cord at his throat.

“Of course,” he said. “When I’m not with you, I feel like I’m wearing a pair of glasses that turns the world gray.”

“And when you are with me?” I asked softly.

“Everything’s in technicolor.”

Xavier’s final exams loomed, and yet he still came every day, always attentive, always studying my face for signs of improvement. He always brought with him some small offering: an article from the newspaper, a book from the library, an entertaining story to tell, or cookies he’d baked himself. Self-pity wasn’t an option when he was around. If there were ever moments in our past when I’d doubted his love, I didn’t doubt it now.

“Should we try going for a walk today?” he asked. “Down to the beach? You can bring

Phantom if you like.”

I was tempted for a moment, then the thought of the outside world overwhelmed me, and I pulled my blanket up under my chin.

“That’s okay.” Xavier didn’t press the matter. “Maybe tomorrow. How about we stay in and cook dinner together tonight?”

I nodded mutely, snuggled closer to him, and looked up into his perfect face with its amused half-smile and lock of nutmeg hair falling across his forehead. It was all so wonderfully familiar.

“Your patience is saintlike,” I said. “I think we’ll have to apply to have you canonized.”

He laughed and took my hand, pleased to see in me a flicker of my former self. I followed him downstairs in my pajamas, listening to him talk about his recipe ideas. His voice was so soothing, like a cool balm easing my anxious mind. I knew he would stay with me and talk to me until I fell asleep. Every word he spoke tugged me gently back to life.

But even Xavier’s presence couldn’t protect me from the nightmares. Every night it was the same, and I would wake drenched in a cold sweat. I’d know immediately that I’d been dreaming. I’d know even as it was playing out in my head. I’d been having the same dream for weeks now, but it still managed to terrify me and I woke with my heart in my throat and my hands curled into fists.

In the dream I was in Heaven again, having left earth behind me for good. The deep sadness I felt was so real that when I woke it felt as if I had a bullet in my chest. Heaven’s splendor left me cold, and I begged Our Father for more time on earth. I pleaded my case vehemently and wept bitter tears, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. In despair I saw the gates close behind me, and I knew there was no escape. My chance had come and I let it pass.

Although I was home I felt like a stranger. It wasn’t the return itself that caused me so much pain; it was the thought of what I’d left behind. The thought of never touching Xavier, of never seeing his face again, tore at me like talons. In the dream I’d lost him. His features were blurred when I tried to evoke them from memory. What stung the most was that I didn’t even get the chance to say good-bye.

The vastness of eternity lay before me, and all I wanted was mortality. But there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t alter the immutable laws of life and death, Heaven and earth. I couldn’t even hope, for there was nothing to hope for. My brothers and sisters rallied around to offer words of comfort, but I was inconsolable. Without him, nothing in my world made sense.

Despite the distress the dream caused me, I didn’t care how often I was visited by it, so long as I could wake and know that soon he would come. The waking was all that mattered.

Waking to feel the warmth of the sun streaming through the French doors, my faithful Phantom sleeping at my feet, and the gulls circling above a cerulean sea. The future could wait. We had endured a great trial together, he and I, and survived it. We had emerged scarred but stronger. I couldn’t believe the Heaven I knew could be so cruel as to part us. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew that we would face it together.

I’d been an insomniac for weeks now. I sat up in bed and watched the slivers of moonlight drifting across the floor. I’d given up on sleep—every time I closed my eyes, I thought I could feel a hand brushing across my face or sense a dark shape slipping through my doorway. One night I even looked out my window and thought I could see Jake Thorn’s face in the clouds.