Angel Incarnate: Second Sight (20 page)

BOOK: Angel Incarnate: Second Sight
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Matt handed the elderly
woman his plate, and she returned his smile.

Mrs. Margaret Leary,
Maggie to Andromeda and the children, was an angel-blood well past her
one-hundredth year of life. She never married, and had no children, but
regarded the Godwin’s and their young students as family.

When Gregory’s parents
died, Maggie recognized a change in their son too. Rather than become a victim
of his violent outbursts, she made the kitchen her sanctuary. Though Maggie
loved all of the children who attended the Academy, Matthew held a special
place in her heart.

“I didn’t want to say
anything in front of Father, but Willow is coming for a visit today. She’ll be
here soon. You don’t mind, do you?”

Andromeda cupped his chin
in her hands and smiled. “Perhaps after our visit, we should plan to have lunch
at one of the restaurants in Manhattan, and then we can do some shopping.”

The nine-year-old slid
off his chair, and wrapped his arms around her neck. “Willow will like that.
Rita and Jessica are coming too. Should we call for reservations?”

“No – we’ll see if they
have any preferences. Run along, now. You still have an art class this morning.
I’ll call you when your friends arrive.”

Matt kissed his
mother’s cheek and skipped out of the room. Andromeda couldn’t help noticing
there was an extra pep in his step.

Hopefully, we’ll be gone before Gregory returns
.

She leaned back in her
chair and took another small sip of her tea.
It’s so peaceful when he’s gone
.

Chapter 30

 

As soon as the sun
crept into the bedroom, Mehri opened her eyes. Rolling out of bed, she shuffled
to the window and pulled back the lace curtains.

Her eyes were drawn to
a family of white-tailed deer roaming near the edge of the trees. She thought
of growing up on her parent’s farm. It had been years since she last saw her
family.

Born on October 12
th
,
1929, Mehri was one of two children. Her younger brother, Jon, two years her
junior, was still at the farm when she left.

She felt
a hollowness
in her chest.
Left – they threw me out, and told me never to come back. Lucifer said
my parents are still alive, but he said nothing about my brother. I wonder…

Walking to the closet,
she grabbed a pair of jeans and a white, button--up blouse. After running a
comb through her hair, she sauntered into the kitchen.

Stella was bent over
the stove, pulling a pan of biscuits from the oven. Putting the hot tray on the
counter, she smiled at Mehri, and then reached into the cupboard to find a
serving plate.

“I brewed a pot of
coffee – help yourself. I’ll bring these over in a minute.”

Mehri stared at her new
friend. It was hard to believe she was Samhael’s daughter. He was sophisticated
and classy, yet Stella was dressed in a plain cotton dress; she was dowdy, but
so down to earth.
 

Perhaps it’s because she grew up in the mortal world. I’ll
never understand the difference between the angel’s children
.
Some
have powers, and never age, while others…

“Since we don’t have to
be at the meeting until noon, I thought we could go exploring. I’m sure the
scenery has changed since you were here,” Stella said, as she placed the
platter of biscuits on the table.

Mehri poured two cups
of coffee and started to nibble on one of the biscuits. “Would you mind if we
took a ride to the country? I’d like to see my parent’s farm.”

Stella plopped into one
of the chairs and paused. “Well, nothing was said about visiting your old home.
I don’t think my father would mind, as long as it doesn’t interfere with his
plans.”

Mehri had an intense
desire to hug her, but then thought better of it. “When can we leave?”

“Finish your breakfast,
and I’ll get my bag.”

Watching Stella walk
out of the room, Mehri shoved the last bite of biscuit into her mouth and
emptied her coffee cup. Running her hand through her cropped hair, she felt a
sudden rush of adrenaline at the prospect of seeing the expression on her
parent’s faces when she walked into the house.
The shock alone will probably kill them, but if not…

She didn’t know how
they were still alive. Both of her parents were born in 1910, which would make
them one hundred and four years old.
Maybe
Lucifer had something to do with extending their lives after I went to Hell
with him.

She followed Stella out
to the car – a late-model, four-door black sedan. “It was a gift from my
father,” she said after Mehri was seat-belted in. “Do you remember the
address?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure
how to get there from here.”

“Don’t worry – I have
GPS.” She programmed the address into the machine. When the voice came on, advising
her of the first turn, Mehri almost jumped out of her seat.

Stella burst out
laughing. “I’m going to have to bring you up-to-speed on our technology.”
 
She turned on the radio; Mehri leaned back,
and sang along to -- “It’s My Party,” by Leslie Gore. Samhael’s daughter found
herself humming along to the tune.

Thirty minutes later,
they were pulling into the gravel driveway. “Is it as you remembered?” Stella
asked.

The old two-story
Victorian, still painted white, had the same gingerbread trim on the
wrap-around porch. The name “Chastain” hung from a cedar nameplate over the
door. The barn, corrals for the animals, and farm equipment were long gone,
giving way to a well-manicured lawn lined with gladioli and fancy shrubbery.

“No – there isn’t any
livestock. My parents are ancient now; I guess the farm became too much to take
care of.”

Mehri opened the car
door, but Stella grabbed her arm. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes – I need to know
if they have any regrets about forcing me to leave.”

“My father didn’t know
the circumstances surrounding your departure, but I’m guessing it wasn’t
amicable?”

“I was sixteen -- young
and in love,” she sighed. “When my parents found out I was pregnant, they threw
me out of the house. My boyfriend had already enlisted in the army; he never
wanted to be a father. A young couple with a two-year-old son allowed me to
stay with them until my son was born. Byron was a beautiful child, but he was
sickly.”

“Is that when you met
Lucifer?”

“Yes, but I didn’t know
who he was at the time. He promised to heal Byron and give him to a good
family, if I would agree to come with him. I wanted to save my boy, so I
agreed.
 
I know Lucifer is supposed to be
a monster, but he always treated me well.”

“I think many of the
angels were misunderstood, my father included. One day, they will right the
terrible wrongs done to them, and we will help.”

They slid out of the
car and walked up the wooden steps. With Stella standing beside her, Mehri
opened the screened door and knocked.

A few moments later, a
white-haired man answered the door. Mehri’s nostrils flared and she felt the
heat course through her body as all of the anger she had been suppressing came
to the surface. The tightness in her face stretched into a snarl.

“Hello, Papa; where’s
Mother?” she sneered, pushing past him.

Stella slid in behind
her; eyes fixed on the old man. His mouth agape; he stared incredulously at the
young woman who resembled his daughter.

“No – this isn’t
possible – you’re dead,” he stuttered.

Mehri turned around to
face him; pushing back the low guttural growl forming in her throat. “You’re
mistaken; I’m very much alive. Where is my brother, Jon? I don’t want him to
miss this family reunion.”

“Jon was killed in a
car accident two years after you left.”

“I didn’t leave – you
threw me out!”

Mehri’s eyes moved
around the living space. The colonial-styled furniture was exactly the same.
Two chairs and a sofa made from a dull, plaid material. The oak end tables and
coffee table still had the same scratches she made with one of her father’s
pens.

The coffered ceiling
appeared to have just been painted a bright white and the walls were covered
with a matching bead-board paneling.

She moved to a curio in
the corner and picked up a gold-framed picture. In it, her mother, father and
brother were dressed in festive clothes as they stood in front of a Christmas
tree. Mehri remembered snapping the picture. It was her last Christmas at home.

Replacing the picture,
she noticed the walls were still lined with several other portraits of her
family throughout the years; she didn’t appear in any of them.
I guess they didn’t want to be reminded of
the shame I brought them.

As she continued to
gaze around the room, her eyes were drawn to the kitchen. Standing by the
refrigerator, was her mother, Charlotte.

Though once beautiful,
time had not been kind to the woman. She was stick thin, and her face appeared
haggard and wrinkled. Her once long, lustrous blonde hair was pulled into a
dull, lifeless grey knot.

As Charlotte started walking
towards them, the china plate she was carrying slipped from her hand,
shattering across the tile floor. Her hand flew to her chest, and she staggered
against the wall.

Mehri laughed, but it
was a derisive laugh. Plopping on the sofa, she patted the seat. “Come sit with
me, Mother. We have a lot to talk about.”

“You’re not real; get
out of my house!”

“What makes you think I
don’t exist?
 
My friend Stella will
disagree. I’ve had years to think about what I would say to you if our paths ever
crossed again. You remember the last conversation we had? You called me a
tramp, and told me I was no longer your daughter. Do you remember, Mother?”

“You may look like
Mehri, but she died after giving birth to her bastard son. I don’t know what
game you’re playing, but if you, and your friend, don’t leave now, Pierre will
call the police.”

At the mention of her
son, Mehri could feel the muscles tightening against her skin; the veins in her
neck were throbbing. Without thinking, she grabbed her mother by the throat and
squeezed.

Gasping for air, the
old woman glared at her daughter. Mehri expected Charlotte to beg for her life
or plea for mercy, but her mother refused to show any weakness. Instead, she
forced out a contemptuous laugh.

Mehri stared incredulously
at the woman who gave birth to her
. How
could I have ever loved you?
Without realizing how much her grip had
tightened, Mehri watched the smile on her mother’s face vanish as she slid to
the floor.
   

Pierre started towards
his wife, when Stella grabbed his shirt, and threw him against the wall --
splintering the gilded mirror above his head. With blood streaming down his
face, the old man tried to pull himself up, but Stella knocked him on his back
and planted her boot on his throat.

Mehri walked over to
her father.
 
She wasn’t angry anymore,
but still wanted an explanation.

 
“Tell me Papa, did you have any regrets about
forcing your only daughter out of your life? Did you ever think about me, or
your grandson after Jon died?”

“I hope you burn in
Hell!” he screamed.

The boot came down with
such force; it crushed Pierre’s windpipe, splattering blood across the bottom
of Mehri’s jeans. “Maybe, we’ll see you there,” Stella hissed.

Grabbing Mehri’s arm,
she shoved her out the door and into the car. As they sped down the highway,
she gazed at Mehri’s trembling hands.
 

 
“You need to calm down before we meet with
Father Ryan. We’ll stop by the cottage, so I can clean up, and you can get rid
of those bloody jeans,” Stella warned.”

“I didn’t mean to kill her.
We have to tell Samhael what happened. Do you think Lucifer will be angry with
me?”

Stella chuckled. “Your
mother provoked you. Hell, even I was angry when she called your son a bastard,
and I barely know you. I’ll explain everything to my father; he’ll
understand.”
 
She flipped the radio on
and started humming along to, “Hit the Road Jack,” by Ray Charles.

She just killed my father.
How can she be
so calm?

Mehri didn’t intend to
kill anyone; she just wanted to scare her mother a little. She leaned her head
against the glass. When she closed her eyes; she saw the spiteful sneer on
Charlotte’s face, and her guilt evaporated.
 

Chapter 31

 

Paul was standing
outside Hespa’ cabin when the archangels arrived with the guardians.

They had traded their
ceremonial robes for blue jeans, loose--fitting shirts and sneakers. Jeziel,
who had never been exposed to human attire, kept fidgeting with her shirt
collar.

Breaking free of her
father’s grasp, Alannah, so excited to see Paul again, jumped on his back, wrapping
her tiny arms around his neck while he spun her around.

The others smiled at
the playfulness of the young angel, except Aidan, who opened his mouth to
disapprove, but then snapped it shut.

Jeziel opened the
knapsack, and began searching the contents.

She’s probably looking for something else to wear.
 
Paul sympathized with her discomfort.

“It takes some getting
used to,” he said. She closed the bag, and dropped it on the ground at her
feet. “Hespa regrets not being here to greet you in person, but she was called
away on an assignment.”

“Humph – she probably
just didn’t want to be home when Jeziel arrived,” Aidan mumbled.

Gabriel remained quiet,
but Michael gave his son a scathing look.

“What – everyone knows Hespa
doesn’t trust her. She thinks once Lucifer realizes his daughter is in Aeden;
she’ll forget her assignment and reunite with him.”

Jeziel stared at the
angel.
 
He was usually quiet and
respectful; this was a side of him she hadn’t seen before.

Why is he questioning my loyalty; he’s supposed to be my
friend?
Michael is worried about me being tempted by
my father; he should worry about his own son.
 
“I won’t forget why I’m here,” Jeziel spat.

“Ah, here comes Elijah
now,” Paul said.

Everyone turned to the
woods behind the yard. Walking towards them was Hespa’s son.

The boy wasn’t anything
like Jeziel imagined.

Since Hespa was a
feared huntress, Jeziel expected her son’s body to be bulging with muscles, but
the angel-blood who stood before her was a tall, gangly teen. His russet hair
was scruffy; his shirt and jeans were stained with grass.

Alannah hopped down
from Paul’s back, and ran to meet the young man, extending her tiny hand.
 

“Hi – I’m Alannah; it’s
nice to meet you.”

“I’m Elijah.”

He walked over to
Jeziel, the only other female in the group. “I assume you are my new guardian?”

“Yes – my name is
Jeziel.”

“Well, now that we have
finished with the introductions, when do we leave?” Aidan asked. “I’d like to
arrive in Savannah before lunch. There’s a great seafood restaurant down by the
piers.”

Elijah took in a deep
breath in an effort to calm himself. “You didn’t say anything about leaving
home. What am I supposed to tell my mother?” he asked Paul.

Aidan chuckled. “Don’t
worry; you’re not going anywhere. You and Jeziel will be staying here. Alannah
and I will be staying with the other members of the Guild.”

Elijah breathed a sigh
of relief.

Mom agreed to the guardian, but she would be upset if I left
Aeden with Lucifer’s daughter, especially without telling her.

He gazed at Jeziel, who
was being unnaturally quiet.
She seems
harmless. I don’t know why Mom doesn’t trust her. Maybe after she gets to know
her; she’ll change her mind.

“My son is right; we
have to be on our way,” Michael said.
 

While they waited for
Alannah to finish with her hugs; Gabriel pulled Paul to the side. “Have you
noticed a change in Aidan’s demeanor?”

“Yes – it might be
worth mentioning to Joseph. I would expect this kind of behavior from Dahnael,
but not from Aidan. Maybe he’s just nervous about meeting Aura.”

“I hope you’re right.
Give my love to Bren and Tracy; I’ll try to make it to their Halloween party.”

Paul chuckled. “Eve’s
been buying material for their costumes, but the girls keep changing their
minds.”

Gabriel patted his
friend on the back, and moved to stand next to Michael.

“We’ll see you soon,”
Alannah said to Jeziel.

“Keep an eye on your
father. He doesn’t seem to be himself,” she whispered.

“Don’t worry -- Joseph
and Jack will keep him
straight.
Paul thinks we’ll be
back in two weeks. I like Elijah; he’ll take care of you.”

Jeziel expected Aidan
to wish her luck, or at least say goodbye, but he stood next to his father,
tapping his foot impatiently on the ground. She bent down to hug his daughter. “I’ll
miss you; promise to come back soon?”

Alannah nodded, and
then ran to Gabriel. He threw her over his shoulders, and she squealed with
delight.

Jeziel stared after the
white vapor left behind when her friends vanished.

“Let’s get you settled
into your new home,” Paul said.

 

Gabriel pulled Alannah
off his shoulders and watched her eyes widen as she marveled at the grandeur of
the old plantation.

Built in the early
1800’s, the property -- almost fifty acres in size -- reminded her of a
favorite meadow in Heaven, where she used to play with her twin. It was just as
Esra described.

The long gravel drive,
leading to the massive, two-story structure, was wide enough to allow four
horse–drawn carriages to pass. Large columns flanked both sides of the wrap-around
porch, but her favorite part of the white house, was the black shutters that
framed each of the paned windows.

As they marched up the
wooden steps, Alannah closed her eyes, and envisioned the parties that once
took place there. She giggled as she watched Fionn chasing after his daughter,
Alice, in the small lake beyond the back yard.
 

The house was
unoccupied most of the time, but Eve -- who inherited the property from her
mother, Alice -- arranged to have it cleaned and dusted weekly.

Paul had rewired the
entire structure, and added some appliances, but most of the old charm
remained.
 

Once inside, Alannah
felt compelled to touch each piece of furniture – the settee, the wing-backed
chairs, even the embroidered pillows.

Stacks of wood and
kindling were kept in small bins next to the fireplaces which heated almost
every room.

Murals of the
archangels were painted on the cathedral ceilings, and family pictures in gold
frames, rested on the end tables.

Alannah picked up a
picture of Aura and hugged it to her chest.
She
looks just like me.
 

Holding on the picture,
she wandered from room to room.

Mommy was born in this house.
 
She took her first step on this floor; ate her first bite at this table;
slept on these pillows.

 
Aidan took the picture from Alannah and placed
it back on the table.

“If you’re finished
with the tour, we need to go,” he said. “The rest of the Guild is waiting, and
I know Michael and Gabriel have other business to take care of. I don’t know
why you are being to nostalgic; it’s just a house.”

“It’s not just a house!
It’s Mommy’s house,” Alannah cried.

Gabriel cocked his
brow.
This is the first time I’ve known
Aidan to call his father by his proper name.
 

While Michael pulled
his son to the side, Gabriel picked up Alannah and carried her to the spiral
staircase. As they walked up the steps, the young angel turned to stare at her
father.

“Mommy’s not going to
love us if he acts this way when we meet her.”

“Alannah -- I’ve spent
enough time with your mother to know she will love you unconditionally. Would
you like to see where Aura slept?”

Tightening her grip on
his neck, Alannah nodded.

 

“Paul and Gabriel have
noticed a change in your behavior; even Alannah is questioning some of your
comments. What’s gotten in to you?” Michael asked. “I’m beginning to think
sending you here was a mistake.”

“I’m sorry,” Aidan
said. “I don’t mean to disappoint you; it’s just a lot to take in. I haven’t
seen Avriel since the war, and I don’t know how she is going to respond to me,
or Alannah.”

“Her name is Aura now.
Have you forgotten our conversation?”

“No – I remember
everything.”

“Alannah is just as
afraid; she doesn’t know if she’ll ever see Alorrah or Alexis again. I’m
depending on you to make these next couple of weeks easy for her.”

“Please don’t send us
back.”

“I hope it won’t come
to that,” Michael sighed.

 

Gabriel made his way
down the long corridor until he came to the third room on the left. As he
opened the door, Alannah climbed off his back and walked inside.

The room was painted in
different shades of lavender. A large white canopy bed with cherub linens was
centered against one wall. Adjacent, was a brick fireplace, and above the
hearth, hung a picture of three identical little angels.

Alannah’s eyes lit up,
and her lips parted into a wide smile, as she flitted across the room to take a
closer look. “That’s Alorrah, Alexis and me. Mommy didn’t forget us; we’re
right here.”

There was a loud knock
at the front door and Alannah heard a familiar voice.
 
“Hello – is anyone home?”
 
A male voice called.

“Joseph,” she
whispered.

Gabriel gave chase as
she ran out of the room. “We’re up here!” He swung her over his shoulder like a
sack of potatoes, and then took the stairs two at a time.

Alannah jumped into
Joseph’s arms and scanned the room. “Where is everyone else?” she asked.

“Willow is in Aeden
with Rita, but Tiffany and Logan are next door. Are you ready to meet them?”

“Ha Ha – I can’t wait.”

Tiffany was Jack’s
daughter; her husband, Logan, was Martin’s son. They were also Reaghans godparents.
Even though they had only been married for a few weeks, Alannah knew they would
be adding to their family in the spring.

Angel-bloods were only
pregnant for three months, and it was said their births were painless. It
wasn’t uncommon for a mother to give birth two or even three times in the same
year – hence, the term Irish twins emerged.

“Good – lunch should be
ready when we get there.” Joseph looked back at Michael as he was walking to
the door. “Don’t worry – we’ll take good care of them.”

“Remember what we
talked about,” Michael warned Aidan.

“I won’t forget,
Father.” Aidan shook Gabriel’s hand, and then gave Michael a quick hug before
running to catch up to his daughter.

“Joseph will watch over
them,” Gabriel said.

I hope so.
Michael nodded, and the two archangels vanished.

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