Angelbound (38 page)

In my dreams, I return to the Gray Sea. A circle of white fire blazes on the sand by my feet. Mom’s figure rises from within the flames. The walls of our living room build around her.

The fire flares brighter and vanishes. The sand sculpture turns into real life. The living room looks exactly as it does today, only the couch is less threadbare, the carpet’s plusher, and the walls show fewer cracks. Mom piles bolts of black
fabric onto the couch, a terrycloth robe wrapped loosely around her. I sigh. She’s already looking like a shabby, house-bound version of her former self. Sadness creeps into my bones. Senator Lewis is gone.

Someone knocks on our front door.

“Just a second.” Mom walks up to the door and swings it open. Xavier stands outside in his gray suit. A muscle twitches along his neck.

Mom waves him inside. “Xavier! Come in. Have a seat.” She moves a bolt of fabric off the couch and steps into the kitchen. “Do you want some ice cream? I don’t have anything as good as the old days, but I found this.” She stands in the kitchen doorway, squinting at a tiny package in her hands. “They’re called ‘Frozen Milk Product Bars.’”

“No, thank you.” Xavier’s eyes stay glued to the floor. Something about him is off, but I can’t put my finger on it.

“You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Mom steps back into the kitchen. “By the way, my service paperwork was approved. I’m officially a seamstress as of today.”

“I heard. Quasis with a service can’t be terminated. You’re safe now.”

“Thanks to you and your people.” Mom steps back into the living room, pulling her robe tighter around her.

Xavier inhales a ragged breath. “We need to talk, Camilla.” The hollow tone in his voice sets my teeth on edge.

Mom’s face creases in confusion. “Sure, won’t you sit down?” She gestures to the empty spot on the couch.

Xavier shakes head. “You were right all along. About Armageddon, the Oligarchy, everything.” He glances toward Mom, his eyes dim. Could he be sick? I have the overwhelming urge to rush to his side, take his temperature and pat his hand. Poor guy.

Mom’s forehead knits in confusion. “Why bring that up now?”

“I should have backed you up. I want you to know that.”

Mom shrugs. “If you’d agreed with me, it wouldn’t have made any difference. The Senate didn’t believe a word I had to say, just like you predicted. They almost had me impeached.” Her voice cracks when she says that last phrase. “You did what you thought was right, too.”

“No, I didn’t.” Xavier’s left hand balls into a fist and he punches his leg. “I wasn’t thinking about right and wrong. I just
felt
things. I felt the need to protect you.”

I purse my lips and frown. Hmm. That’s an awful lot of lovey-dovey talk out of Xavier. I turn my attention to Mom, who’s doing way too much blushing and retying her robe. Definitely some attraction there.

Xavier steps closer. “This shouldn’t happen to someone like me.”

Mom looks up from her robe, her head cocked to one side in her ‘confused look.’ She isn’t the only one. I’m stumped as well. What’s all this ‘someone like me’ stuff? He’s a common angel, right?

Mom sets her hand on her throat. “What’re you talking about?”

Blue light flares in Xavier’s eyes. “I’m an archangel.”

I stagger back a few steps, my body reeling from the shock. A freaking
archangel? They’re rarer than greater demons, and totally badass.

“An archangel? But there was nothing in your record.”

“That’s why I came to Purgatory. Few know me here. After the first few millennia of celebrity, I’ve chosen a low profile.” He closes his blue eyes. Points of white light sparkle around his shoulders. Great golden wings appear on Xavier’s back.

Mom’s fingertips brush the long gleaming feathers. Her voice is low and breathy. “So beautiful.”

Xavier shivers and opens his eyes. The wings disappear.

“An archangel.” Mom slides her hands into the pockets of her robe. “I didn’t know there were any left.”

I sniff. What Mom doesn’t know about angels and demons is a
lot
. A greater demon can be born or made. Armageddon became one when he was crowned the King of Hell. But archangels? Limited supply from the beginning of time. They’re so old and powerful, they rarely hang out with mortals at all. Most common angels never meet one. My eyes almost bug out of my head.

I can’t believe Mom worked with an archangel.
Cool.

Xavier sets his hand on the living room wall, leaning onto it for support. “There aren’t many of us. I led our armies in the Battle of the Gates, the one that drove demons from Heaven. Armageddon was the general on the opposing side.” A sad look washes across his face. “He was a common demon then.”

I remember Xavier and Armageddon in the Senate committee meeting. That pair hate each other’s guts. I shake my head in disbelief. They fought in the War
of the Gates, a thousand years ago. That’s one long grudge.

Mom examines his face for what feels like years. “Why are you telling me this now?”

Xavier smiles. “I knew you’d ask that question.” His grin slowly fades. “I must leave, but not before I say something, just once.” He steps up to Mom, gingerly setting his hand against her cheek. She leans into his touch. “I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen mountains form, stars appear, oceans give birth to life. I’ve witnessed wars and weddings, mercy and hatred, greed and sacrifice. In all that time, I’ve never loved a woman.” His fingers curl, drawing her mouth toward his. Xavier’s lips brush hers once, gently. “Until you.”

Holy shit.

I knew there was a flirty spark between them, but this? Whoa. And the way Mom stares at him all slack-jawed and wide-eyed, it’s pretty clear she didn’t see this coming either.

Xavier lowers his hand, turns on his heel, and walks away.

Mom steps into his path, blocking his exit. Her eyes take on a steely look, the one I know means she won’t back down. “Where are you going?”

He stares past her and opens the front door. Mom sets her body firmly in the threshold. “Where, Xavier?”

“Let me go.” He stands tall and unflinching, every inch of him filled with stony resolve.

Mom searches his face, her eyes opening super-wide. “Wait a minute. Why wasn’t I killed in Armageddon’s War? Why was I–of all people–given a service?”
She closes the door behind her and glares at Xavier.

“That’s not important, Camilla. All that matters is your safety.”

My mind whirls. Mom once said that someone made a great sacrifice to keep us safe. At the time, I was pretty sure that mystery someone was my father. Now here’s Xavier, doing something huge for Mom’s safety.

My skin erupts in gooseflesh.
Could Xavier be my dad?

The gears of my mind stall out. Mom said my dad was Tim, and whatever other faults she has, she doesn’t lie. Hide the truth and strong-arm everyone else into doing the same thing? Sure. Outright lie? No. At least, that’s what I used to think.

Mom steps closer to Xavier, her bottom lip trembling. “What did you do, Xavier?” She grips his hands in her own. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Xavier stares at their clasped hands, his eyes glistening. “I traded your life for mine. As of midnight tonight, Armageddon takes me to Hell.”

Mom sets her hand on her throat. Her breaths come in rough gasps. “When are you coming back?”

“I’m not, Camilla.”

“But the things they’ll do to you. You can’t go.” Her face hardens. “I never agreed to this. I won’t allow it. They can kill me instead.”

Her words hit me like so many stones. When mortals go to Hell, demons consume their souls. But Archangels heal from any injury. If Xavier goes to Hell, it’s for one reason only:
an eternity of pain
. I shiver. The things they’ll do to him, indeed.

Xavier wags his head from side to side. “It’s all done and irreversible. I made the bargain with Armageddon the day he invaded Purgatory. A ghoul will act as your guardian when I’ve gone. His name is WKR-7. You can trust him, he’s part archangel.”

Mom grips her hands at her waist. “There must be something we can do.”

“No, I made my choice and I’m at peace with it.” He looks at her, his blue eyes filled with love and longing. “Let me go, Camilla.”

Mom scans his face. Her breathing slows. “Not a chance.” Stepping closer, she rests her hands on his shoulders. He doesn’t move nearer, so she arches her bare feet to stand on tiptoe. Their mouths are an inch apart. “I love you too, Xavier.” Little by little, she sets her lips on his. He doesn’t respond to the kiss.

Mom pulls back. “What is it?”

“This will only make things harder for you.”

“Nonsense.” She slowly runs her tongue along his bottom lip. “Be with me.”

My eyebrows rise. Damn, Mom. That’s quite the move. Who knew she had a little lust demon in her after all?

The archangel returns her kisses slowly, tentatively. Mom’s fingers slide to Xavier’s shoulders, wind around his lapels, and push his suit-coat to the floor. He groans, grips her waist, and pulls her against him, hard. Their kiss turns hungry and wild. Xavier unties the belt of her robe.

Mom takes his hand, pulls him into her bedroom and closes the door.

I nod once to myself. I am so having a ‘who’s my daddy’ discussion with Mom in the morning. This is ridiculous.

The image of Mom and Xavier disappears into the sand. Another scene rises in its place: our front doorstep at night.

Mom opens the front door, her robe wrapped tightly around her. “Hello? Anyone out there?” She scans the yard, her face pale with worry.

I grit my teeth. I know who’s she’s waiting for: Armageddon. I glance through the opened door to our living room’s wall clock. 5 AM. The King of Hell was due at midnight.

Mom watches the empty yard for a time, the muscles along her jawline taut. Insects chirp in the darkness. A soft breeze rustles the browning leaves on our front-lawn trees. After a few minutes, Mom lets out a long sigh, the edges of her mouth softening.

My body relaxes as well. It’s almost morning. Maybe Armageddon isn’t coming after all.

Cracking her neck from side to side, Mom turns back to the house. She takes a step toward the door and freezes, every muscle in her body turning rigid.

I gasp, knowing that particular movement all too well. Mom was hit with greater demon aura, and that means one thing. Armageddon is here.

The King of Hell steps out of the line of trees. “Good morning, Camilla. I’ve come for Xavier.” I fight the urge to jump into the dreamscape and kick the crap out of him, or at least try to.
Get off my lawn, asshole.

Mom spins about slowly, her face still as stone. She meets Armageddon’s gaze head-on. “You can’t have him.”

The King of Hell strolls up the walk to our house, pausing at the foot of the
steps. His wide mouth twists with a sneer as he eyes her from head to toe. He says one word in a rumbling voice: “Xavier.”

The archangel steps out the front door and stands beside Mom.

She grips his hand. “Don’t do it, Xavier. Just get out of here.” The archangel shoots her a sad smile. After that, he slowly walks to Armageddon’s side.

My body stiffens with shock and rage. This can’t be happening.

The King of Hell sets his three-knuckled hand on Xavier’s shoulder. “Let’s see those wings you hid from everyone for so long.”

Xavier stands stoic and still.

Armageddon’s long red tongue flickers over his smooth black lips. “Perhaps if you were in a little more pain, it would break up your concentration.” He grips Xavier’s arm and snaps it with a loud CRACK. The archangel’s face writhes with pain; his golden wings appear.

My anger hits the breaking point.
Verus and her dreamscapes can kiss my ass; I’m not standing by.
My tail arcs over my shoulder; my body snaps into battle stance. I race toward dreamscape, the warm sand sliding beneath my bare feet, my gaze locked on Armageddon. You are so going down, buddy.

I get within a few feet of the King of Hell when my body slams into what feels like a brick wall. It’s some kind of force field, keeping the past away from the present. My back teeth lock. All I’ve accomplished is to give myself a better view of Armageddon’s gloating smile and Xavier’s overwhelming agony.

“Ah, I remember those wings.” Armageddon chuckles. “You showed them when you rallied the angels and drove my army from Heaven.” The King of Hell
rounds on Mom. “Does it pain you to watch me hurt him?”

Mom glares at Armageddon, her arms folded over her chest.

I press my palms against the invisible wall. Every cell in my body wants to break through and stand beside her.
Stay strong, Mom.

The King of Hell twists Xavier’s broken arm. The archangel sucks in a breath, gritting his teeth. Mom’s eyes slowly bead with tears. Mine do, too.

“It
does
pain you.” Armageddon’s mouth bends into an impossibly-large smile. “Good. Because I’ll be doing this for all eternity. Whenever you think of the Senate or your murdered family or sewing one of those silly robes, I want you think of Xavier and how I’m torturing him at that exact moment. Just for you.”

I slam my fists into the force field; it doesn’t budge. I need to kill Armageddon, save Xavier, and help my mom.
Let me in!

Mom’s shoulders slump, worry lines appear around eyes. I notice a few gray hairs I hadn’t seen before.

I freeze in place, unable to do anything but watch her sorrow beyond the invisible barrier. Mom steps back, leaning against the outer wall of the house for support. She sets her hand on her rib cage and I can almost hear her heart crack with grief. This is when the weepy, over-worrying version of my mother came to be.
I’m so sorry, Mom.
I never dreamed this is what happened. I understand now.

Armageddon waves his long and bony hand. “Goodbye, seamstress.” He and Xavier disappear. For a moment, Mom stands still on the front stoop, and then she crumples onto the concrete landing, her shoulders heaving with sobs.

Mom’s body turns back into sand before dissolving into the desert floor. The
rest of the scene does the same. The dreamscape ends. Somehow, I know this is the last one.

For what feels like eons, I stare at the Gray Sea, watching the rolling dunes of charcoal-colored sand touch a blue and gray sky. The wind howls through me; sulphur chokes my lungs. I could care less.