Eternity (3 page)

I looked at Eran and realized that we were alone, we were outnumbered, and we were suddenly facing the enemies that Eran had been trying to warn me were coming.

CHAPTER TWO: FOREWARNING

Eran lifted his arm and gently tried to push me behind him as the group of eight winged men took a unified step forward. I swiftly moved around Eran’s barrier.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I called out, almost daring them to advance, so angry I nearly wanted them to attempt it.

“They know that, Magdalene,” Eran muttered, his voice calm but tense.

“Still haven’t lost that vigor, I see,” reflected the one who had stepped out in front earlier.

I noticed he was addressing me, which caught me off guard. Without diverting my gaze, I quietly asked Eran, “Do I know him?”

“Yes,” Eran replied stiffly and then called out, “What do you want, Marco?”

Marco appeared to feign offense. “So much time has gone by and this is your greeting? I mean…it has been…what? Three hundred years or so since we’ve last seen each other. We have much to catch up on.”

Marco’s choice of words seemed peculiar to me at first. Then I realized that he, and most-likely his winged accomplices, had spent several centuries on earth and had become a blend of what they’d experienced. Their language, their mannerisms, even their accents were no longer distinct. They belonged to no culture and could no longer identify any roots. They were wanderers – or more precisely – nomadic hunters.

“We have nothing to say to each other.” Eran kept his guard up and his stance in place.

Marco clucked his tongue at us. “Not cordial, Eran,” he said. It seemed to be a warning. “And you, dear sweet Magdalene. Miss me?” He grinned then, an evil, mocking expression that made the hairs on the back of my neck stick straight out.

To my surprise, Eran growled. It was slight but loud enough to reach me. I’d never heard Eran react that way before.

Marco was intentionally provoking Eran, and doing it successfully.

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember, Magdalene.” He paused, reflectively. “When we first met your name was Marie. Do you recall that, Magdalene? When we first met? But, of course you wouldn’t…I heard somewhere that you remember very little of your past lives…You have no recollection of any of us…Do you?” He shook his head in what seemed to be mock pity. “Why ever would you choose to return here as a human? By doing so you’ve left yourself vulnerable, weak…”

“Marco,” Eran said impatiently, sending an unspoken warning. “What…do…you…want?” he continued through teeth clenched against his rising anger.

Marco ignored him. “But, dear Magdalene…how I’ve missed the curve of your-”

Eran immediately stepped forward and in reaction three of the men behind Marco advanced, wings widening their span in preparation for an assault.

“All right…All right.” Marco brought up a hand in a gesture to calm the situation. “What do we want? Only to watch. We won’t intervene. Promise.”

I couldn’t tell if Marco was insane or still playing with Eran.

“Watch what?” Eran asked the same question that was perplexing me.

Marco’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You mean to tell me that no one has told you? All mighty, all powerful, all knowing Eran is the last to learn?” He scoffed.

“Watch what, Marco?”

“The upcoming battle, of course.” Eran and I glanced at each other, both of us wary. When we didn’t respond Marco went on. “Not with us. No, no. But I do hear that quite a few of us will be arriving shortly as spectators. You’ll have an audience, it sounds…from all over the world. We wouldn’t miss this for…well, for all eternity.” He paused to snigger at his own joke.

Eran’s patience was thinning and he showed this by sighing loudly. “If the battle isn’t with you, who is it with?”

Marco opened his mouth to answer the question but he was only toying with us, which became clear with his answer. “Hmmm…No…No. I think you should figure that out for yourselves.” Marco spun around to face the others, chuckling at our expense.

The remaining men broke in to smiles, relaxing their wings somewhat.

“Let’s head out, boys,” said Marco and then sent Eran and me another warning. “We’ll be seeing you two around.”

Almost in unison, each of their wings made a powerful flapping motion, and their bodies were lifted into the inky night sky. They became a single gray line against the black background, a dividing line. One more flap and they faded out of sight.

Eran’s own wings sunk without a sound into his back as we stood quietly for a moment. Without taking his eyes away from the sky, he did a quick, thoughtful assessment. “Marco’s untruthfulness is legendary. He could be fabricating the possibility of a battle. But the fact that he didn’t engage in an attack tonight makes me slightly leery that he believes one is coming. If he does decide to attack, I can handle him and his cronies. But if more Fallen Ones start flocking here we’ll need to get you out of New Orleans.”

“You know I won’t leave,” I said, determined.

Eran frowned. “We’ll discuss your leaving New Orleans if the time comes. For now, I’m going to get you home.”

Instantly, my thoughts fell back to when I’d been first introduced to the Fallen Ones. Given that I had moved every three months since birth, I’d been able to evade them. Then I landed in New Orleans and they caught up with me. From that point forward, my life had been at risk.

Fallen Ones for the most part are cold, calculating instigators and equally sinister avengers. Having been shunned from the afterlife for causing a malicious act against humanity, they’ve been committed to an eternity on earth where they’ve subsequently kept up their treachery.

They especially do not like anyone who assists humans and that included me and any guardians sent to protect us. Because of this, a war has been raging between Fallen Ones and guardians for centuries, a war that I was now embroiled in whether I liked it or not.

Eran had bent down and was now collecting the remnants of his T-shirt.

Despite the gravity of what had just happened, I noticed his muscles stretching as he pulled a spare shirt from his book bag and slipped it on. I also noticed that the gashes in his back had completely healed.

“They’re stunning,” I said.

He glanced at me. “My appendages? They’re good to have in times like these.”

“Are they…painful at all?”

“I barely notice them,” he said sympathetically, knowing I was concerned without having to say it.

“Good.”

“Come on…Time to get you back home.”

Unlike our typical leisurely pace, this ride was fast and sharp. Eran was nervous but he didn’t show it in words. It came through in the maneuvering of the bike.

We arrived at the house and parked the bike in the shed with neither of us saying a word until we were inside the house. Our other three housemates were playing a fairly heated board game when we entered but they greeted us briefly before returning to it.

“Dinner’s in the fridge,” Ezra said, her head bowed towards the game.

“Thanks but I’m…I’m just not hungry,” I said. I didn’t bother adding, not while knowing that my enemies had arrived just as Eran predicted and had threatened a looming battle. For some reason, food just didn’t sound good.

Eran simply shook his head. Apparently, his appetite was gone too. “I think we’ll call it an early night.”

Felix snickered, moving a piece on the board, to which Rufus slapped his hand away. “Ain’t your turn,” he said briskly and then fell back in silent contemplation over the board. Felix huffed.

Ezra was the only apprehensive one. She seemed to have an innate ability to know when something was wrong but allowed you to bring her in on it when you were ready. “Then good night you two.” She paused and added, “Keep the doors open.”

Since Eran began living with us three weeks ago, Ezra had allowed him to stay on one condition: The bedroom door needed to be left open if Eran and I were in the room alone. She worked with troubled teens so she had a preexisting condition that she acknowledged and called suspicious tendencies. She knew she couldn’t help what happened outside the house but was dedicated to preventing anything from happening inside it. Out of respect we obeyed her one wish.

At the top of the stairs, I knew that Eran expected that I follow him to his bedroom. Without a word, I deviated and went to my room.

A warm night like tonight would ordinarily find us on my balcony overlooking Magazine Street, chairs tilted back, our feet propped on the railing. I went directly to the French doors leading to it and opened them wide.

“What are you doing, Magdalene?” Eran came up behind me, attempting to suppress his irritation.

“I know I’m being irresponsible by leaving us exposed but I will not live in fear.”

“Acts of self-preservation are not a reflection of living in fear.” I could guarantee that he’d said this line many times before.

“It is to me.” I said firmly, taking a seat in my chair, tilting it back, and propping my feet up.

Eran groaned but dropped into the chair next to me. “You’re never easy on me…”

We sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the squeak of my chair as it complained against my rocking motion.

My rocking was meant to be more of a diversion from my thoughts than to pass the time. Eran’s proximity to me posed a challenge. His very presence pulled me to him and it took a defined force inside me not to stand, slide into his lap, and lift my lips to his – damn his worries of distraction.

In truth, though I would never admit this to him, he’d been correct about my enemies finding me again and he’d been correct about avoiding affection with me. It was our brief moment tonight when his eyes were locked on me that Marco and his gang appeared – and we hadn’t noticed them until they made themselves known. We would have been easy prey.

Despite it all, there was an undeniable part of me that refused to let go of the notion that life without love – or at least exploring that love - is an empty one.

When I looked at him sitting stoically in the chair next to mine, I knew that I would die for him just as he would die for me – and that risk of death didn’t deter my love for him in the least.

Eran’s face was still impassive, his body was motionless. His entire being appeared to be absorbed in thought.

Then he spoke suddenly, catching me by surprise. “I won’t let them near you. They won’t touch you, Magdalene.” His tone was self-assured, a trait that Eran radiated.

I reached out and laid my hand on his arm. He sucked in his breath, clearly fighting the same urges as me. “I know…” I said, softly, to both circumstances.

Then his mood changed, hands curling around the armrests of his chair, his muscles flexing beneath my hand. I glanced up to find his eyes narrowed at some distant memory coming to the surface. “Not this time…”

That gave me a jolt but I didn’t think now would be the best time to ask what he meant. I got the sense that he wanted to jump up and preemptively attack them and I’m not sure he wouldn’t have if he knew where they could be found.

He was clearly struggling with his thoughts so I changed the subject. “Should we tell Ezra what happened tonight?”

Eran took a moment to recover before answering and then said in a slightly less troubled tone, “I’ve been considering it. But there’s no need to upset them when we have no proof of Marco being truthful one way or another.”

I agreed with a nod. “If Marco is telling the truth and there are others coming for us, who do you think they are?”

Eran drew in a deep breath and shook his head, confirming my assumption that he wasn’t taking Marco’s prophecy lightly. “We have so many enemies, Magdalene, it’s impossible to know at this point.”

I didn’t want Eran wrapped up in protecting me. I had never asked for it and I still didn’t entirely believe it was needed. But it was comforting to hear him use the word ‘we’ and to reaffirm that we were together.

I opened my mouth to ask a lingering question, one that kept pestering me since our brief interlude with Marco, but I wasn’t sure if it would upset Eran further.

“Go ahead,” he said, noticing, encouraging me. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well…Marco.”

Eran again grew tense.

“Are you sure you don’t mind me asking?” I hesitated.

Despite his overwrought appearance, he said, “No, I don’t mind you asking about Marco. If he stays – and it sounds like he plans to – it’s important for you to know what to expect from him.”

I shook my head, irritated now. “Sometimes I can’t stand being a reborn.” Most of those on earth are considered reborn, having come here for an educational experience and intentionally forgetting their past lives so as not to impede their learning in this life. I had chosen this path too and it had prevented me from remembering anything at all about our enemies. Why I had chosen to come back as a reborn - and without my memory or the powerful assets that others had brought back with them, others like Eran and Marco - had always been a mystery to me. It was one that no one seemed able to answer which was a cause of deep frustration for me.

“You came here for a reason,” he said drawing my attention. Supportive of me even when I wasn’t, he added, “You always do.”

I smiled my appreciation. “I’m trying to work through the ambiguity, to remember anything I can, and Marco hinted at a past…So I’m wondering how we know him.”

In reaction, Eran’s lips quivered in anger but thankfully it seemed to be fleeting. He then drew in a breath and cleared his mind. “As you are aware, you’ve been to earth multiple lifetimes. Each one introduced new risks to you as Fallen Ones found you and then…” He paused, stiffening, and then continued, “…and then attempted to slay you. Only Marco has differed from that…rhythm. Marco didn’t start out as other Fallen Ones do. While others fall as a choice or are required to fall as punishment for their sins, Marco…well, he was fooled in to it.”

“Fooled?” I repeated, allowing that understanding to sink in. “That sounds awful.”