Bird Song (40 page)

I laughed, although the sound was half-hearted at best.
 
“I remember now.
 
I wanted to know why, if the Seraphim destroyed the vampires and…the other things, why do we still hear of them?
 
Why are there so many stories about them?”

“Because Miki had been alive for twenty years, Grace.
 
All she had to do was infect five people, who would then infect five people and so on.
 
She traveled, she utilized her freedom for trips to spread her mayhem and chaos to regions elsewhere.
 
Think about how trusting people would have been of a beautiful young girl wandering all alone from village to village.”

“So the monsters that died with Miki weren’t the only ones.”
 

“No, they weren’t.
 
Angels are capable of doing a great deal when gathered together, but we weren’t about to risk killing off entire towns and villages just to destroy a few of Miki’s offspring.
 
Especially after the evil that had infected the first several generations began to weaken and many of their human sensibilities and traits returned.”

I scoffed at that idea.
 
“Monsters with human sensibilities?
 
You mean like not getting caught murdering innocent people?”

Robert held me immobile as he stared down at me.
 
“Grace, those creatures kill because it is necessary for them to survive.
 
You think it is evil because their food source happens to be humans but you must remember that that evil was implanted by one of my kind.
 
Which is more abhorrent, the monster or its creator?”

Rolling my eyes I quickly got down to my main point.
 
“Okay, so now that you’ve explained to me all about Miki and her monsters—I still cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you—do you think that one of them could have erased Erica’s memories?”

He nodded slowly, hesitantly.
 
“I would like to think not, since I know all of those in the area, but I’m afraid that if this was being done by a supernatural being, it would be one of them and not one of the others.”

“Others?” I gasped.
 
“What others?”

Sighing, Robert began to answer.
 
“Grace, you humans believe that you have incredible imaginations because of the creatures you read about in your books and see in your movies, but everything fictional to you is based on something real, something that exists among you that you simply refuse to see because that would mean having to admit to being wrong, that fiction is indeed fact.”

“I accepted it.
 
I accepted you.
 
In fact, I listed quite a few of them before I even found out-” I argued but he held his hand against my mouth to quiet my words.

“And I keep telling you that you’re different.
 
Grace, I just told you that monsters truly do exist, and I’m about to tell you about creatures that you probably have never heard of, and you’ll accept this because you are different.
 
You’re not like the rest of the people that live outside of those white walls and that iron gate.

“Do you think that Graham would be willing to accept that there are
Sceadugengan
that roam your front yard?
 
That there are
Mazikeen
who move his keys around so that he thinks he misplaces them?
 
That there are Werewolves and Shape-shifters who watch movies while he’s working?” he asked even though he already knew the answer.

When I shook my head, he asked the one question that he hadn’t yet.
 
“And, do you think that he’d be willing to accept what I am?”

This time I spoke up.
 
“Yes—unequivocally.
 
He knows how much you mean to me.
 
He knows that you saved my life, Robert.
 
He knows that you love me.
 
He would accept you no matter what you were.”

Robert smiled sadly and brushed away the tiny tear that had mysteriously formed at the corner of my eye.
 
“And what about when he learns that I’m Death.
 
Would Graham still accept me, Grace?”

I had no answer for him that wouldn’t have been a lie.
 
I didn’t know what Graham would have thought about that.

“I’m a mythological creature twice over, Grace, and even those who are raised to believe in me have a difficult time accepting it when I appear to them.
 
But that’s not important.
 
What I want you to understand is that my world is one where you exist among those you cannot see because you don’t want to see them. Or, more importantly, you don’t want to know who truly is and isn’t one of you.”

I opened my mouth to deny this, but how exactly could I do that?
 
He had just described a whole other world that existed right beneath my nose, and I was oblivious to it.
 
All I wanted was normalcy; it was what I kept telling everyone anyway.
 
I was exactly the type of person Robert was describing.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, but I shook my head.

“No, you’re right.
 
You shouldn’t apologize for telling me the truth.
 
You just didn’t know that you were describing me when you did it because you didn’t know how deeply my need to be just like everyone else really ran.
 
So, now that we’ve got that out of the way, can we get back to who might be the one tampering with Erica’s memory?”

I needed the change of subject.
 
I needed it like a hangover cure because the truth of Robert’s words had started to spread like an ink stain in my head and I didn’t understand why it bothered me so much.

Robert eyed me nervously, but obliged me.
 
“I’m going to have to follow her in order to find that out, Grace.
 
I cannot see a face or hear a name in her head that stands out other than your own, so I can only rely on real time revelations.”

The thought of Robert following Erica, watching her as she went about her life in every way felt like I had swallowed a fishbone that had lodged itself in my throat and every time I tried to swallow down my annoyance, it irritated me more.
 
“If there is no other way—I cannot believe that we’re helping out Erica Hamilton!”

“I could ask Lark to do it, if that would make you feel better.”

The suggestion burned like a bright beacon of hope for about one tenth of a second before the image of Lark strangling Erica flashed in my head.
 
Robert saw it and laughed, shaking his head.
 
“I guess not.”

“If this is what it’s going to take to stop her, I can handle you being around her for a day.
 
One
day.
 
No more.”

The air around us grew warmer as my concession pleased him.
 
“You’re very generous with your boyfriends.”

I laughed at that.
 
“Boyfriends?
 
There’s only ever been one.”

“And who exactly would that be?”

“You, of course!” I exclaimed laughing as he nuzzled my neck.

“I’m afraid that you’re incorrect,” he whispered into my ear.

Stiffly, I pulled away, just the hint of him not being a part of my life enough to turn my mood instantly black.
 
“What do you mean by that?”

Immediately he released his arms from around me and placed them on my face, cradling it like you would something precious, priceless.
 
“I told you before, Grace.
 
I’m your future.
 
It gets no more permanent and intimate than that.
 
Boyfriend is a temporary title.”

I opened my mouth to argue but he lowered his face to mine quickly and pressed his mouth to my top lip.
 
Instinctively, my bottom lip closed around his, and though I knew it shouldn’t have happened, I gently stroked it with the tip of my tongue.

It had an immediate effect on me; my brain grew foggy and my ears filled with the humming of something I could only guess was my blood; blood that felt hot, heated to burning.
 
It was all I could do not to force him to stay absolutely still so that I could savor him for as long as humanly possible.
 
Instead, he pulled away and began apologizing profusely.
 
“I shouldn’t have done that.
 
I knew better.
 
I knew…”

“Why are you apologizing for kissing me?” I demanded.
 
“It was a kiss.
 
People do it all of the time.
 
People who don’t even like each other do it, and they do it in ways we never have…and probably never will.”

Robert held me fast as I struggled to pull away.
 
“Don’t, Grace.
 
Don’t run from this just because you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry, Robert.
 
You’ve got to learn to gauge your emotions better because what I’m feeling right now is disappointment and rejection, not anger.”

“I’m confused.
 
You’re speaking to me as though you’re angry.
 
Your thoughts are full of anger,” he stated, his words clinical in their lack of emotion.

“What you’re seeing and hearing is the result of once again being rejected, Robert.
 
I get your whole chaste-virginal thing.
 
I do.
 
But what I did there—that was a kiss.
 
I wasn’t throwing myself at you.
 
I learned from past rejections not to do that anymore.

“But when you choose to pull away from my kisses; that hurts, Robert.
 
When I see other couples who share in things that we never do, I feel like I’m losing out on something special.
 
Even Donovan and Kendra kiss that way, and according to you, their relationship isn’t real.
 
No, I’m not angry, Robert.
 
There’s no room for that in me right now.”

He watched me, searched within my thoughts to find the slightest bit of exaggeration, but I knew he’d find none.
 
I pulled away from him and he let me go.
 
I walked over to the stereo and pressed the stop button.
 
“I used to love that song,” I muttered.
 

I removed the CD from the slide that appeared at a press of the eject button and I placed it back into its case.

“When are you going to do it?” I asked as I put the case back into the void it had left behind when it was removed.

“When do you want me to do it?” he replied, his tone flat and emotionless.

“After you take me home.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“What’s there not to understand?
 
You’ll take me home and then you’ll go and follow Erica around to see who is turning her brain to rat jelly.”

Robert shoved his hands through his hair and groaned.
 
“No.
 
I don’t understand
you
.
 
You become aggressive and demanding when you want something, and when you’re denied it, you become defensive and withdrawn while I become the villain when all I was doing was protecting your virtue-”

“Who asked you to?”

“And yet, when I have asked you to turn, to become immortal so that we can have nothing but time to be together, to finally be with each other in the way that we
both
want,
you
deny
me
and again become withdrawn and defensive.
 
Why?”

I looked past him towards the wall where the collage of photos displayed two people who were blindly in love, who appeared to have nothing but joy and contentment between them.
 
“Angels believe in myths, too you know.
 
You have these beliefs that humans all feel the same way; that our feelings can each be categorized and labeled, everything all sterile and clinical-like and if they happen to change, you can simply offer up a substitution and we’ll be alright.
 

“Well, let me fill you in on something, Robert.
 
I’m human, which means I have human feelings, dynamic feelings that go beyond your black and white labels.
 
And what I feel when you reject me and deny me the simple pleasure of kissing you, and then turn around and tell me that if I change for you, that you’d give me what I want, that tells me that who I am, the human Grace, isn’t good enough for you or your angelic virtue.
 
And what I feel is unadulterated, unsterilized hurt.”

I walked towards the photos and pointed to them.
 
“That is the sterilized version of us, Robert.
 
It fits in here, in your room because that’s what works for you.
 
Everything has its place, its reason, its need.
 
I have a place, too, a reason in your life.
 
But the way you act sometimes, Robert…it makes me feel like that place belongs only in those photos.”

I turned around on my heels and headed to the door.
 
He reached it before I did and opened it, holding it for me as I walked past him.
 
He said nothing as we walked out of the house and towards the detached garage.
 
“Can we ride in the car?” I asked softly.