Divinity (21 page)

“What did I tell you about making noise, Maria?” The man took half a step forward, a snarling smile splitting his face.

The blinding light announcing Gabriel’s presence froze the man in his tracks, his pants half-undone, still stained from the last round in the closet. Julia could see the man’s face clearly now. His dark eyes were glazed—his swollen, red nose had Julia guessing it was from alcohol. His cheeks were puffy; the flesh seemed to be close to bursting.

Julia was mortified when she realized she recognized him from photos she had seen in her childhood. That man—that monster was her grandfather.

Gabriel unfurled his wings completely. They jutted beyond the confines of the tiny closet, spanning outward at least twenty feet from end to end. His anger seemed to shake the walls. His face was wrath. The standoffish Gabriel that Julia knew transformed into this terrifying being, and suddenly she understood the scripture that depicted the angels as fierce and frightening things.

He thrust one hand forward. First his fingertips, then his hand, and then his wrist penetrated into Maria’s father’s chest. Julia could still see Gabriel’s hand as though it were lighting the man from the inside out. Gabriel’s fingers wrapped around the pulsing heart, and Julia wanted to scream when she saw Gabriel’s grip tighten. He flexed his hand, counting out six quick beats, then stopped. He pulled his hand free from the body, the odd internal lighting going dark. His hand was as clean as it had been when it entered.

Little Maria watched the lifeless body of her father thump to the floor, her mouth hanging open, her eyes filled with fear.

Gabriel composed himself, settling his wings down onto his back. He turned his gaze to the child. “He will not hurt you again, little one.”

“Why? Why did you do that?” The anguish in the girl’s voice made Julia’s stomach clench.

“Why?” Gabriel tilted his head slightly to one side.

“Why so fast?” Maria’s eyes were glued to the body of her assailant. She dropped her voice to an almost imperceptible mutter. “I wanted him to suffer.”

“Suffer.” If Gabriel felt any compassion for the girl, his voice held no hint of it. His stare was cold—almost dismissive. “He will, little one. More than you can imagine.”

Julia found herself gasping for air as the vision came to an end. The sun had dropped closer to the horizon and she checked her watch. An hour had passed. She looked into Maria’s eyes for a long moment, trying to sort out how she felt.

All she could bring herself to say was, “I’m sorry.”

Maria nodded and turned her haunted eyes toward the falling water of the fountain.

“Where was your mother all that time, Maria?”

“Lori,” Maria said, gazing off into the distance. “Lori was there, tending to the boys and the house. She was a dutiful wife.”

“Not a dutiful mother to you!” Julia felt her anger rising. “Ignoring the problem is just as bad as doing it herself.”

Maria kept looking out over the manicured lawns of the facility. Her voice seemed to shrink, like the voice of the little girl in the closet. “It’s not Lori’s fault. She couldn’t see. That’s what girls are for, they say.”

“They? Who are they?”

“Our family. All the way back. It’s a longstanding tradition, you know.” She ran a hand through her hair. “That’s why I called the police when you were born. To give you a new family. With new traditions.”

“You
called them.” The truth of that sacrifice hit Julia’s core. Her eyes welled up with tears. She decided not to tell Maria that her adoptive father had been Maria’s own brother. Same family. Similar traditions.

I’ll spare you that
, Julia thought.

“Thank you, Maria. That must have been so difficult.”

The sound of the waterfalls filled their ears as a silence fell between the two women. Julia felt she should say something more, but couldn’t imagine what. When it came to her, she leaned forward, gently taking Maria’s hand in her own. “You are a good mother, Maria. I never knew how lucky I was.”

Maria only nodded.

“Are you safe here?” Julia asked.

A sly smile touched Maria’s lips as her eyes darted around once again. “I am very well looked after here, Ser…Julia. Some of them think I really
am
married to Gabriel, you know. They think, if they treat me really well, they’ll get a better deal. You know. In the end.”

Julia couldn’t help but laugh despite all she had just learned. She was surprised to feel a bit of a kinship with this woman she still couldn’t think of as her mother.

Julia found it funny that it was easier for her to accept Gabriel as her father than this woman as her mother. Maybe this kind of crazy was genetic.

“Maria, what else do you know about them?” Julia didn’t say “the angels,” but somehow she knew Maria would know exactly who she was talking about.

“Everything. Nothing. They are what they are. I do know one thing, though, Julia.”

“What’s that?”

Maria’s eyes flicked up over Julia’s shoulder, then back to her eyes. “You can hear them, if you pay attention. And…”

Julia sighed, seeing the now-familiar glaze cover her mother’s eyes. Within a few seconds, she heard the sound of John’s approach.

“Cookies!” Maria spoke to the air. “Grandma made the best cookies! We could never figure out how, even when we followed the recipe.”

John stood in front of Julia. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Visiting hours are over.”

Julia stood, smoothing her slacks and straightening her jacket. She looked at Maria, wishing she had just a little more time, and caught a glint of awareness in her returned glance.

“Cookies!” Maria echoed herself, as John led her down the path back to the building.

Julia did her best to look disappointed with the way the visit had turned out, and walked back down the long hallway, acutely aware of the loud clicking of her heels on the spotless marble floor. John escorted Maria to her room and Julia stood outside the door as it clicked shut, her mind swimming. As John walked away, Julia replayed the sights and sounds of Maria in her mind, evaluating and re-evaluating every word, every touch. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Maria had been trying to tell her something in that last moment of rambling.

A hard thud sounded to Julia’s left, and she turned to face it. She found herself looking through a small, square window into the room across the hall. A man standing on the other side of the door was staring straight at her. His hands and face were pressed flat against the six-inch thick Plexiglas window. When Julia realized she could see his essence radiating from him, she stepped closer to the door for a better look.

He stepped back from the door, and when she saw the wings protruding from his back, she caught her breath.

Who…?

The man wore a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and though she felt the same peaceful air that seemed to accompany the angels, there was something slightly off about this one. Devious. He took another step back and sat on the bed. As Julia watched, the spirit of the angel came out of the man, and just for a second before he evaporated, she caught his profile. His crooked nose and skin the color of almonds resembled a politician from Calcutta whose name she could never remember, though the angel was not quite as charismatic. It vanished, leaving the hollow shell of a human sitting on the edge of the hospital bed with a steady stream of drool dripping off his chin, and leaving Julia feeling much like that patient looked.

She wondered if the angel had seemed off because of the body it had inhabited, or if there was something more. Michael would know, she decided, and resolved to mention it later. Julia heard the click of the door latch turning behind her and averted her eyes. She didn’t understand what she had just seen, but she wasn’t about to share it with John the orderly.

She continued toward the reception area, the sound of John’s footsteps behind her. She forced herself not to look back. It was enough to make a person crazy, having just seen what she had seen, and feeling like everyone in the building must have known she saw something. Something “normal” people wouldn’t have seen.

Julia pressed the buzzer on the intercom and looked up into the camera over the door so the receptionist could see it was her. In the few seconds it took to get buzzed through, her heart pounded. Part of her was sure they’d heard every word between Maria and her, and seen everything she’d seen, and were now going to lock her up, too. Part of her thought maybe they should.

She let out a sigh of relief when the lock clicked. She pushed the door open and strode over to the desk. The receptionist looked up over the rims of her glasses and greeted Julia with a genuine, sympathetic smile.

“It’s never easy the first time, honey,” Suzanne said, sliding the sign-in book towards her.

Julia nodded, plucking a pen out of her purse to fill in the appropriate line. When she was done, she closed her purse and straightened. “Suzanne?”

“Yes, dear?”

Julia smiled, but fidgeted with the straps of her purse. She wanted to appear vulnerable, not calculating. “Does anybody ever visit her? My mother?”

The receptionist leaned forward, lowering her voice. “It’s against policy, but I’ll tell you anyway. Since she’s your mother and all.”

A grateful smile touched Julia’s lips, though her eyes were still creased with sadness.

“No, you are the first visitor she has had for the fifteen years I have worked here.”

“Who pays the bills, then?” Julia dropped her voice.

“I’m not sure.” She glanced up at the camera that was suspended from the ceiling and raised her voice. “I’m sorry your first visit with your mother didn’t go so well.”

As Suzanne spoke, she casually rolled her chair back and swiveled it to face the filing cabinet. She leafed through a few files, closed the drawer, and then spun back around, a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

“It really went much as I expected,” Julia lied.

Suzanne pushed a stack of papers back toward Julia. “Fill these out, in triplicate, and I will be able to send you that information you requested, Ms. Samson.”

I should have known
, Julia groaned inwardly as she scooped the papers up. “Thank you, Suzanne, you have been wonderful.”

“My pleasure, hon.” There was a glint in Suzanne’s eye as she looked from Julia to the papers. “Will you be returning soon?”

“I’m not sure. Thank you again.” Julia headed for the doors.

Julia’s head buzzed as she climbed into her rental car and set the papers on the passenger seat. She focused on driving back to her hotel.

Having just witnessed the vision of Maria’s father’s demise, Michael arched an eyebrow, his eyes cold and intent on watching Gabriel.

“It seemed…fair.” Gabriel had no other defense.

“When did we ever worry about fair?” Uriel interrupted. “Our only concern is balance.”

Gabriel lifted his wings, ruffled them, and settled them back in place, turning to face Uriel. Only the movement of his wings betrayed his anger. His voice was cold and even. “Within balance there can be fairness.”

“You had no place to step in and kill him, Gabriel. You crossed the line with that one!” Uriel’s voice boomed. Somewhere on Earth, there was a thunderstorm wreaking havoc.

“Judgment is not yours, Uriel. Not for them, and not amongst ourselves,” Michael said. “Before you criticize, I suggest you find out the purpose of our actions. That man was to die that day. We needed the girl in one piece—physically. Had he lived, she would not have survived the night.”

“Then why do you look at Gabriel with disapproval? You two always have your own agenda.” Uriel’s eyes moved from Michael to Gabriel and back. “I suggest you let me in on what’s going on.”

Michael’s voice grew hard. “When did you become the lead, Uriel? Save your suspicions for those more deserving. We do not report to you. More importantly,
I
do not report to you. Are you so bored that you need to spy on me? I would be happy to arrange some extra duties for you.”

Uriel tossed out his wings as he glowered at Michael. With a flamboyant flap, he disappeared.

“He tries my patience,” Michael said. “Ever since I chose Zachariah to father the other Children.”