A Shimmer of Angels (21 page)

“I—” I started. “I don’t know what to do.”

Cam pulled me into a hug. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out.” His fresh-cut grass scent was softer today, but oh so present.

The warmth from his arms calmed me. Either that or he’d used some of that angel mojo again. Could he do that without looking into my eyes?

Only moments ago, shock fired in every cell of my body, but not now. Now all I felt was his arms around me. His chest pressed against me, calming the storm inside. I squeezed my eyes closed to keep this moment from passing by, from fading away. Butterflies wiggled around in my stomach. Cam was the vacuum that took the bad away, the one person whose embrace felt right.

I held my breath and slid my arms around him, avoiding his wings. His trademark earthy scent made me feel like I was home again. Safe. Slowly, I splayed my hand out across the soft fabric of his shirt and wound the material around my fingers. Shivers forged from desire unblocked the butterflies, and they swarmed me.

He rubbed the back of my neck, his fingertips brushing through the ends of my ponytail.

He drew me closer and pressed his cheek against my temple. The world stopped. Even the air stilled. The muscles in his jaw clenched against the side of my head, but the resistance dissipated a moment later. Soft lips pressed against my temple.

His lips retreated, but his closeness didn’t, until he trailed another kiss to my cheek. My entire body burned with expectation. I drew closer, needing to feel more of him.

I sighed, my breath shaking. He pulled back. I could hear my own heartbeat echo through the hall.

He edged closer. There had never been another being on this earth like Cam, of that I was sure. But he wasn’t mine to keep. He belonged up there. I belonged, well, I wasn’t sure where I belonged—maybe the loony bin—but my place sure as hell wasn’t with the angels.

When his lips pressed against mine, I couldn’t have stopped them if I wanted to—and I didn’t.

His lips tasted of pure, raw sunshine. The sunshine I’d been missing ever since leaving Arizona. I reveled in it, pulled myself tighter to him. His hand moved up to cup my cheek, and my head soared in the clouds. Yet I could still feel him, every inch of him, ethereal wings and all.

“Ray?” Luke’s voice shattered the moment.

Cam and I parted, separating like oil and water. The sudden absence of his touch left me hollow.

Luke shook his head in disbelief and thundered down the hall toward the front door.

“What was that?” I asked Cam.

Cam ignored me and ran to the stairs, where he shouted, “Luke, wait!” With his hand still around the corner, he turned back to me. “He likes you, Ray. You must know that.” Cam closed his eyes. For an instant, regret showed all over his face. “This is a nightmare. I have to go. I have to keep him safe.”

My cheeks were on fire as Cam darted after him, abandoning me for his assignment. He’d called our first kiss—my first kiss—a nightmare.

I lowered my head in my hands and groaned. Why would Cam …?

My chest ached like it was being ripped in two. He’d left me. Luke was more important. Luke was his job. I sank back against the lockers.

A mistake.

His words repeated over and over in my head. My chin trembled. I pressed my lips together to keep them from doing the same. Cam was gone. He’d never wanted me.

And why would he? Why would anyone want to be stuck with someone so flawed, so … crazy?

I tucked my elbows in to my sides and tried to forget this had ever happened. To force myself to think about something else.

Lee. I needed to forget about myself and help Lee.

Twenty minutes later, I was still doing a sloppy job of convincing myself the kiss hadn’t mattered, that it didn’t rip me apart when Cam abandoned me, and that I didn’t desperately want to do it again. Yep, I told myself those three things over and over again. All the way to Lee’s house, and during the five minutes I spent banging my knuckles raw at his front door. He obviously wasn’t home. I cursed loud enough to draw the attention of his nosy neighbors. If Lee was here he would have corrected my foul language with some obscure
Dr. Who
reference.

Instead of crying in defeat, I caught the first bus to the Korean Consulate—technically it was the temporary location since the main office on Van Ness was still being remodeled. I’d be sure to tell Lee I’d found it all by myself when this was all over.

Fifteen minutes later, I got off the bus and walked to Clay Street. The area was filled with upscale apartment buildings and older, well-maintained homes. The gardens in front of the yellow mansion of the temporary Korean Consulate were purple and blue and yellow. Breathtaking. I strived for my window box and the few pots on the front steps to look half as vibrant, but this late in the season, it became difficult to keep the chill from claiming the petals.

From what Lee had told me about his mom, she was old-school Korean. Stern and
very
traditional. Offending her with my craziness wasn’t in the plan, but with any luck Lee would be there to act as the buffer.

I swallowed back a lump and pressed the bell. The gate’s buzzer sounded. I jerked it and the dark door open and made my way inside, where I checked the building directory. Then I made my way up the stairs to office 203.

“Mrs. Kyon?” I rapped softly on her door.

“What can I do for you, young lady?” She stood up from her cushy office chair and gestured to the seat across from her walnut desk. As soon as I took it, she straightened her navy suit jacket and settled back into her chair. Her dark hair was short, as was her stature, but she in no way looked fragile. The firm set of her mouth took care of that. And there was no Lee in sight, but she did have a beautifully trimmed Bonsai behind her.

Focus
. I gathered my nerve, but had no idea what to say. “Mrs. Kyon, I’m Rayna Evans, a friend of Leland’s. Is he here, by any chance?”

She looked puzzled. I hesitated, wondering if I was overreacting. Maybe Lee was cutting school to avoid me and I was about to get him in trouble, which would make him doubly pissed. But what if I was right to worry, and he was in danger. No, I’d come this far. I was doing this.

“He didn’t make it to school today, and he hasn’t been answering my calls. I’m so sorry to bother you at work, but I was wondering if you could tell me …”

Her puzzled look deepened into tight frown lines. “Rayna?” She sounded like she’d never heard the name before. Oh, God. His mom had never heard of me. Maybe this whole time I’d been making up how close we were. Maybe he wasn’t in trouble at all, but ignoring me. It was a mistake to come here, to assume …

“You mean Ray?”

I nodded, so relieved I could almost throw up. “Yes, ma’am.”

She made a disapproving sound through her nose. “I always thought Ray was a boy.”

This is going well.

A long silence dragged out. “But
you
are Ray. And you’ve come to ask me how Leland is feeling?”

I nodded, feeling foolish and a little crazy under her scrutiny. “I was worried and—”

She leveled me with a considering look, then nodded. “I won’t pretend I like the idea of my son’s best friend being female, but you are good to come ask about him.” The toughness fled her face. “Unfortunately, he has a bad case of the flu.”

“The flu?” I asked, disbelief raising my voice an octave too high. “That’s all?”

“He’s been in bed for days.”

“Oh, of course, I mean, he’s sick. I just meant … I was concerned is all.” I tapped my nails together. Too sick to answer the door? “Would you please tell him I stopped by today, the house and here?”

She tipped her chin down. “I will.”

My cell phone rang before I could so much as thank her. I excused myself and stepped out into the hallway. This time Dad’s name came up on the caller ID, the only number programmed into its memory.

“Rayna Jane Evans, I need you home. Now!”

I winced, taking the stairs two at a time. “Sorry I didn’t call, Dad. But Lee’s not feeling well, and I thought—”

“I don’t care. Where are you? I’ll pick you up myself.”

Crap. I checked the time on my phone. It was only a couple of minutes after four. He was really milking this cell phone thing. “No, Dad, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m with Lee’s mom now, but I’m getting ready to—”

“Where are you, Ray? I don’t care what you’re doing. Tell me where you are.” How his voice could get any harsher, I didn’t know, but it left my insides cold.

I sighed, defeated, knowing full well what the consequences would be if I disobeyed and ran off to visit Lee anyway, maybe suck up with some chicken soup. I wouldn’t be helping anyone if I violated Dad’s rules. He’d send me back to therapy, where Dr. G. would see right through me. Only one slip away. And if I went back, I wouldn’t be able to help anybody. Not Lee. Not Luke. And certainly not myself.

Sweat laced my palms. It would take me at least thirty minutes to get home. “Dad? Dad, my phone’s making a weird noise.” I moved the receiver against my shirt to create static, then slid it shut. I clicked the power button before he could return the “dropped” call.

That’s the thing about those trusty cell phones. Batteries ran out all the time.

The bus ride lasted forever, and my stomach churned all the way. It only intensified when I climbed the front stairs. Dad sat at the dining room table, facing away from the front door. His phone rested beside him, on top of a small book.

“Sorry, Dad. I kept trying to get the phone working again, but—”

Tension knotted his shoulders, and his fingers drummed the table impatiently. He looked over his shoulder at me. His eyes were tired, but there was something off about them, too. Something weary, yet upset. He stood up and pushed his phone off the small book. He lumbered toward me, anger slowly spreading to contort his face. “What is this, Ray?” He held the book up.

There, in his hand, was my angel notebook, and all of my crazy secrets.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“What the hell is this, Ray?”

I reached for the entryway table, but my knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, shaking. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t move. I knew I wasn’t breathing.

“I thought you were done with this. I thought you were better.” He paced, tears leaking from his red-rimmed eyes.

“Where did you get that?” My voice was less than a whisper.

“Laylah found it in your room this afternoon, not that it matters.” He swiped at his eyes, banishing the tears. “Tell me you have an explanation. Tell me
something
, Ray.”

For a brief, desperate moment, I thought about telling him everything. About Cam. Kade. Az. About the suicides that weren’t suicides. Telling him angels—and
demons
—were real. Telling him that I wasn’t crazy and never had been. After all, he was willing to listen.
Begging
me to save myself.

Another tear leaked from the corner of his eye, and I felt the moisture pooling behind my own. I wanted to tell him—tell someone—so badly it hurt. My gaze snagged on the notebook he held loosely at his side. He’d read it. He already knew what I would say, and he didn’t believe me. No one would.

I wound my arms around my stomach and sobbed. Even if he would believe me, I loved them too much to put them in the middle of this.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

I closed my eyes and gathered every drop of courage, all the strength I had left inside me, and looked up at him through waves of tears. “Nothing.” It came out broken, torn. A lie of the greatest proportion. I had everything to say, and nothing I’d allow him to hear.

A memory pressed forward, one that released my mother’s sweet voice. She held me in her arms and made me promise I’d always tell the truth. “A liar,” she said, “is the worst kind of person, one who earns neither strength nor trust.”

Her words scratched so deep I tucked my legs into my chest to help protect against the emotional blow, and then they were gone, my mother’s embrace turning as cold as Dad’s stare.

“You’re going back.”

Now
his
words echoed in my head. “Laylah and I can’t help you if you refuse to help yourself.” I’d never heard such bitterness in his voice before; it was like the edge of a dull blade running up the length of me, from belly to throat. “I’ve already called the clinic. They’re sending a car for you.”

All I could do was cry and shake.

Time didn’t pass in any consistent way as the world spun out of control. Darkness settled on our disquieted home. Soon, the doorbell rang.

I grabbed the leg of the entryway table to stay the tidal waves of fear hammering into me and to keep from drowning in remorse.

Dad opened the door and pulled me to my feet, but my knees gave out. I sank halfway to the ground before Dad straightened me up, holding me there. Two large men dressed in white waited on the front stairs. Dad handed me off like a pig to the slaughterhouse.

The men in white. They’d come for me many times before, but somehow, after almost four months of freedom, this time was worse. My nightmare come true.

They carried me out the front door to their waiting van.

I ran the last time they came for me. It had taken them thirty minutes to catch me. In the end, it had only added more time to my sentence.

I was sixteen now. If I cooperated, maybe I could check myself out at eighteen. At the very least, they’d have to grant me some kind of hearing. Right?

My Converse sneakers hit the stairs one clunk at a time as they towed me closer to the van with the SS Crazy’s yellow sunflower logo on the side. I flailed, suddenly regretting my decision to go quietly.

I changed my mind. Running was totally an option.

I thrashed and broke from one man’s grasp, then looked up the street while I fought the other. A beautiful man stood on the sidewalk no more than fifty feet away, confusion twisting his face.

“Cam,” I shouted. “Cam, help me!”

He looked so striking under the cover of night. So beautiful.

The first orderly reclaimed his grip, crushing my arm under his own.

“Please, Cam.” I wondered what he was doing here, but instantly decided it didn’t matter, as long as he was here. As long as he saved me.