Divinity (18 page)

“How do you survive something like this?” Julia said aloud, startling an elderly couple as they walked by. She slipped back into her near-catatonic silence immediately, but not before several mourners shot concerned looks her way. Did she even want to survive, though? She didn’t have to think long about that one. Yes, she did. Despite the cavernous hole in her heart that Alex’s death had left, she wasn’t finished with this life.
Ironic
, she thought.

Michael’s words came back to her. They needed her. She carefully packaged up her grief, her rage, and her desire for revenge, tying it off and shoving it to a dark recess in her mind. She would open it and deal with it later, when the wounds weren’t so fresh. Right now she needed to remember, and to pay attention.

She allowed her mind to drift back to the forest. She could still smell that acrid odor of decay. She needed to find out what that thing out there was and what it was after. She had the distinct feeling Alex had known it was there. She wished again for a moment when she could see Alex the way she could see Michael and Gabriel, and felt her strength waver when she remembered that she never would. She purposefully pushed memories of Alex away. She had to avoid the sweet seduction of being able to see him again.

She turned her thoughts to the waiter, recalling all the photographs he had taken of her—at the grocery store checkout, at the theater, at her restaurant. So many more places, it boggled her mind. Each memory came with a strong sense of danger. A feeling she had either ignored at the time or mistaken for something else entirely.

She had been so absorbed in her own life that she had completely missed all the signs. When the police told her about his apartment, and all the pictures of her on his walls, she cursed herself. How could she have been so blind?

She felt responsible for the two people whose bodies had been discarded like trash as he hunted for her. If she had only paid more attention, those people—and Alex—would still be alive.

I missed the warning signs. I missed the gifts and opportunities. It is definitely time to start paying attention. Everything has meaning. Everything represents a choice. I have to see them, listen to my instincts, and act
.

She gave a start when Mrs. Williams spoke.

“Let’s take a stroll through the gardens, my dear. I think you could use some fresh air.” Mrs. Williams looked stunning in her black dress and shoes, matching lace gloves and veiled hat. She reminded Julia of the newsreel footage of Jackie Kennedy at JFK’s funeral. Heartbroken, yet elegant.

It struck Julia how selfish she was being. This woman had lost her only child, and here Julia sat, wallowing in her own self-pity. Compassion filled her as she looked up at the woman who, at her own son’s memorial service, had come over to give consolation.

Julia reached up and squeezed Mrs. Williams’s hand, trying to send her some love and comfort through the touch. Their red-rimmed eyes met, each bearing her own unbearable grief. Julia stood and accompanied Mrs. Williams outside.

As they walked in silence along the stone path, Mrs. Williams held out her hand, opening it and revealing a small box.

Julia stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the small ring box. She thought she could hear her heart scream. She didn’t dare ask what it was.

“He was going to give this to you. He said it was an anniversary present. He thought you would be ready then.” Mrs. Williams continued to hold the box in her flat palm, her last statement sounding more like a question than a statement.

“Ready then,” Julia echoed hollowly, her eyes locked on the box.

“Please take it, Julia. He loved you so much. He would have given anything for you.” Mrs. Williams somehow managed to sound regal despite the waver in her voice.

He did give everything for me
, Julia thought as the guilt threatened to consume her completely. Mrs. Williams couldn’t possibly understand just how much he had given.

“It has been in our family for a very long time,” Mrs. Williams continued, pressing the box into Julia’s hand.

A tear spilled down Julia’s cheek as she held it as though it were a thing that might easily be broken. Julia looked from the box to Alex’s mother and back again, unable to speak.

I told him not to ask me to marry him
, she thought.
I told him
.

Her hand trembled as she opened the box and she gasped when she found it held only a key. In her surprise and confusion, the tears stopped and she looked back up at Mrs. Williams. “What?”

“It is the key to our summer home in the lakes. It was his legacy. You always told him you had no family, Julia. He wanted you to know that you did. That you do.” Mrs. Williams’s voice wavered as she dabbed away her tears. “Please take it. I am your family now.”

Julia stood frozen, holding the key in her hand, absorbing the full meaning of what Mrs. Williams was saying.

I can’t accept this. I can’t
…

Michael’s recent lesson about gifts given and refused flashed through Julia’s mind, breaking her free from her immobilized state. She flung her arms around Mrs. Williams’s neck and sobbed on her shoulder, whispering over and over: “Thank you. I don’t deserve this. Thank you.”

Mrs. Williams patted Julia’s back lightly. “There, there.”

Julia let go and backed away a step, sure she must be radiating guilt. “It’s my fault, Mrs. Williams. It’s all my fault. The man who shot Alex was after me. I had seen him before. I should have…”

“That’s how you feel, dear. That man’s action doesn’t make it your fault. How could you have known? You couldn’t. It isn’t humanly possible to know the mind of another.” Mrs. Williams brushed the hair from Julia’s face. “Enough of that, Julia.”

Julia bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut.
Not humanly possible. Exactly
.

“Let’s get back in there, before our guests think we have abandoned them for a tea party in the rose garden.” She smiled warmly through her sadness.

“Thank you, Mrs. Williams.” Julia lifted her head, though it felt like it weighed more than she could bear.

“You must call me Isabel, Julia. Unless you would be comfortable with ‘Mother.’” If Julia didn’t know better, she might have thought Mrs. Williams was teasing her just then.

“Isabel it is.” Julia smiled, the first genuine smile to touch her lips since Alex’s murder.
Mother. I need to find my mother
.

The two ladies walked slowly toward the manor, hand in hand, stepping a bit lighter, as though sharing the burden lessened the weight.

“Mrs… Isabel?” Julia asked, just as they reached the door.

“Yes, dear?”

“How would you go about tracking down a woman who is locked away in a psychiatric facility?”

Mrs. Williams smiled, an odd glint in her eye. “I would hire an investigator and let them track the woman down.”

“I know this seems like an odd time to ask,” Julia said, looking through the door at the large crowd gathered to mourn the loss of Alex, “but I feel the need to connect with my biological mother and I don’t really have anyone else to ask.”
No one human, anyway
.

“There is no need to explain, dear. It makes perfect sense to me,” Mrs. Williams said. “It’s natural to reach out for family at such a time. Leave it with me. I’ll look into it. I know someone in the industry.”

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” Julia said, fighting back tears. “And how much you mean to me.”

The wake ended and Julia returned to her townhouse. Though her heart was still heavy, she felt a sense of renewed purpose.

She had never had any interest in finding her biological family. Her adoptive parents had spoken often of her mother, Maria, painting a vile picture. Julia had heard from a very young age how her birth mother was dangerous, insane, and had been locked away by her own mother. Why would she want anything to do with such a creature?

With all that she had learned in the past few days, however, Julia was beginning to see that there was much more to her story than she had thought. She wanted to meet the woman who had given birth to her. Maybe for some kind of confirmation of everything Gabriel and Michael had told her. Maybe just to know she wasn’t alone on this planet, to meet the one person on Earth who shared her DNA. Either way, she felt a sense of urgency surrounding it, and she wasn’t about to ignore her instincts again.

While the investigator did his thing, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little poking around the internet. Julia turned on the computer, but forgot about her search when she saw that Charlie was waiting for her when she logged on, the message popping up as soon as Julia opened the IM program.

As Julia typed in her message, her tears spilled out again.

Julia watched as Charlie typed, waiting for her reply.

There was a long pause before Charlie’s typing resumed.

Julia closed her eyes. There was so much information in the pause and in the one-word reply. The same pattern since they’d become friends. She must have been fighting with her boyfriend, and he must have taken off again. Julia wished she could reach through the screen and give her friend a shake. Charlie should be with someone who loved her, who made her happy. Why couldn’t she see?

The thought struck her that maybe Charlie wasn’t with someone she truly loved because she didn’t want to feel the devastation of the loss at the end of the relationship. If it ended. Or he died.

Julia hit send, then instantly regretted it. There was another long pause before answering.

Julia sighed and stared at the screen. How had they ended up talking about this again? She just didn’t have the energy to support her friend in her own self-destruction.

Without waiting for a reply, she shut down the program and closed the lid on her laptop.

“I have visited many of your prophets today, Brother,” Raphael said softly, “spreading the word of the
A’nwel.”

Gabriel pulled his eyes from the scene below and turned to face Raphael. He fixed her with a stare, evaluating her intentions. Her jet black hair flowed down her back, mixing with her pure white wings, and her obsidian eyes shone brightly.

“Why would you do that?”

“You have become obsessed with this girl. You are the Messenger, Gabriel, and you have forgotten your charge.” Though Raphael’s wings hung meekly on her back, there was a hint of admonishment in her tone. “The prophets must be informed.”

“Thank you.” Gabriel bowed his head.

“You have assisted me on numerous occasions.” She waved a hand. “It is done.”

Gabriel turned back to the hole in the clouds. Julia sat at her desk, her closed laptop in front of her, face in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

“You have fathered many such children, Gabriel. What is it about this one that has seized your attention so fully?”

“This one is different,” he answered. “I do not understand why she pulls me. Her accusations make me want to defend myself. Her suffering…it hurts me. I do not understand it.”

“The words of mortals have never affected you. Perhaps your connection has something to do with the mother.”

Gabriel’s head snapped around to face Raphael, his eyebrows high with surprise. “The mother was a vessel. No more than that.”

Raphael’s eyes danced with unspoken questions. After a long silence, she rested one hand on his shoulder. “Her spirit is an old one. The oldest we have used. Perhaps with that comes a larger sense of protectiveness.”

“I do not know why it is that when I see this Child suffering, I feel her pain. When she looks upon me with hatred in her eyes, I feel the burn of it, and want to change it. For this Child, I would reverse the damage.” Gabriel shook his head. “I do not know why it is, Sister. I only know that it is.”

“Do as you must, then,” Raphael said, “but remember your duties. You will not spare her any harm if you neglect the world she lives within.”

XVIII

J
ULIA
sat on her doorstep, dressed in black slacks and a black blouse, staring at her car. A week had passed since Alex’s service and she still had not been able to bring herself to drive it. Now she had no choice. Mrs. Williams—Isabel—had called and asked her to come to dinner. She supposed she could take a taxi, but the forty-five minute trek would be costly.

She forced herself to her feet and trudged down the walk to the driveway, her black pumps clicking. She pressed the key fob and watched the lock buttons pop up. The sound propelled her forward, past the memory of Alex standing by the driver’s door. She slid into the driver’s seat, squeezed her eyes shut, swallowed hard, and started the car. The running engine soothed her as it always had, and she managed to keep the tears at bay as she backed down the driveway and into the street.