Genesis (The Legend of Glory Book 3) (2 page)

“That photo is modern.”

“He was turned at nineteen, but is really like a hundred and sixty years old. In this timeline, I first met him when he was assigned by the Caretakers to be one of my bodyguards during the pandemic.”

“I see.”

“Don’t you already know all this?”

“Angels aren’t omniscient.”

Actually, I had heard that before but thought maybe it didn’t apply to the first female angel.

She pointed to a stark photograph of my mom, taken after Dad’s death. “More shadows.”

“Mom had a breakdown after the pandemic. She discovered that her company, Scorpio Pharmaceuticals, hijacked her scientific work to create the pan-plague in the first place. Over a billion people died in the great tragedy.” The photo captured her grief, guilt, and horror. “Turns out my sister works for the secret scientific and political cabal behind it all—the New World Order. Mom works for them now, too.”

Lailah spun to face me. “Explain.”

“The
NWO
wanted to reduce the world’s population to around five hundred thousand people—people they chose to survive. Their agenda was supposedly for the greater good, the belief that Earth couldn’t sustain a large population much longer. The group’s center of operations is an underground base in northern Arizona they call Wonderland.”

“Why would your mother go to work for them again?”

I shook my head. “She doesn’t know the Wonderland operation is related to Scorpio. And Erica threatened to kill her if I said anything.”

Lailah looked at my belly and a small smile played at her lips. “What I do know now makes sense.”

Hope rose. “Great, then please enlighten me.”

“I’m not permitted to tell you. You must find out for yourself.”

Angels had always pissed me off that way.

“Where is this Zane person now?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Those scientists in Arizona have him bamboozled too. They promised him a cure for the vampire virus, and Zane said he’d come back to me if it worked. He doesn’t know I’m pregnant though. At least I don’t think so.”

“What about Dominic? Didn’t he become human so you two could be together as a couple?”

The constant ache from my conflicting emotions deepened. “I haven’t decided which of them I want to be with. I’ve been two women who loved two different men and, overall, it’s just totally messed up.”

Sasha returned with a steaming cup of jasmine tea and set it down on my nightstand. The sweet floral scent filled the air with comfort.

“Get ready for the day,” Lailah said, and the two angels left me alone.

*          *          *

Jesse and I were fifteen years old when we dressed up as the movie stars James Dean and Natalie Wood for Halloween. It was the first time Jesse tried James Dean on for size, and he wore him until changing into a demon. Me? I was content to leave the glamorous young actress behind and get back to being me. However, on that awful night three years ago, Jesse and I formed a special bond.

We had grown up in the small Colorado town of Union, a farming community that over the years attracted a wild herd of granola types eager to grow organic produce. Jesse’s parents owned both a produce farm and an organic dairy, and were one of the largest employers in town. I had seen Jesse at school but never really met him until he came to help my dad with a project on our small farm that summer. We were both pretty much loners with few friends, not members of any social cliques, and so we gravitated toward one another and soon became inseparable.

That Halloween night, Dad dropped us off at the school dance and promised he’d be back to pick us up before he left for a party of his own. When we arrived at ours, the gym already throbbed with music and laughter. The theme, Hollywood, had the place crawling with everyone from Jennifer Lawrence in her
Hunger Games’
Katniss persona to Robert Pattinson’s sparkling vampire from
Twilight
. No one else had gone retro like us, but no one in Union came close to being like us.

I had a blast with my vintage 1950s get-up. The black full-skirted knee-length dress had a saucy caged top that showed off my ample cleavage. A rockabilly petticoat gave it that jive appeal. Black velvet slingback shoes and a fake fur jacket rounded out the outfit. I topped off the look with bright red lipstick, loads of mascara, and permed hair. I was all golden-age Hollywood glam.

Jesse looked hot in his tight jeans and tee shirt. Even at fifteen, he had muscles from working the farm. He took a cigarette out of the jacket pocket and stuck it behind his ear as the final touch.

I shook my head. “School. Rules. You might get in trouble for that.”

He shrugged. “I live for danger.”

I raised a perfectly penciled eyebrow.

“Girls dig the danger vibe,” he said.

I looked around at the bevy of girls giving him the eye. “You seem to be right about that. Just give me a signal, and I’ll disappear and leave you to them.”

He turned to face me, grasped the string of pearls I wore around my neck, and pulled me close. “Glamour puss,” he whispered, “I totally expect you to protect me from my crazed female fans.”

I batted my eyelashes. “Well, if you insist, you sexy rebel you.”

With that, he led me out onto the dance floor. Not big on social activities, in Jesse’s company I found myself strangely at ease. That is, until his father crashed the party.

We were slow dancing and Jesse was reciting a bunch of tragically lame jokes in my ear when Cosmic James, his long hair disheveled, his tie-dyed shirt especially loud, and his stoned eyes crazy, parted the sea of kids like an avenging Moses. He grabbed Jesse by his jacket collar, yanked him toward the door, and said, “I’ve come to take my people home.”

The non-sequitur was oddly fitting.

I stumbled after them. “What’s going on, Mr. James?”

“Jesse’s mother’s sick and I need his help to take care of her and the baby,” Cosmic said through clenched teeth. “I left a half-dozen messages on this brat’s cell—” he shoved Jesse ahead of him— “but I guess he was partying too hard to care.”

Jesse almost fell, but quickly regained his balance. He didn’t argue, didn’t resist, he merely gave me a sad look and said, “Sorry to ruin your night.”

Before I could respond, they were gone.

My friend, Carmela Sanchez, appeared at my side. “Poor Jesse. You okay?”

I shook my head.

“Wanna come join me and mine?”

I wasn’t a joiner and, although I liked Carmela one-on-one, I didn’t much care for her cool crowd. “I’ll call Dad to come get me.”

“It’s so sad. Jesse’s like the hottest—and I mean the
hottest
—guy in this godforsaken little school, but he’s got the most bizarro family,” Carmela said. “I didn’t know you two were an item until I saw you slow dancing.”

“We’re just friends.”

“You sure about that?”

“You said it yourself. He’s beyond hot. I’m just me.”

Carmela gave me the once-over. “Look at you, all sexy tonight. You could turn up the heat like this all the time if you wanted to. I could help.”

“I’m happy with who I am. Besides, I’d rather be his friend. Friendships last longer than hookups.”

“Suit yourself.” She sighed. “Well, speaking of bizarro families, my father has me on punch bowl duty tonight—on guard for spikers. I don’t think he realizes the usual suspects are the kids I have helping me guard it.” Carmela’s father was the school principal. “He’s keeping me on a tight leash, dragging me home the minute this ends, and tethering me to a statue of the Madonna for safe keeping.” She crossed herself like a good Catholic girl and then rolled her eyes.

“He loves you. Considering what we just saw, consider yourself lucky.”

She patted me on the back. “It was good to have you here. I wish you were more of a social butterfly though.”

“Not my style.” I chuckled. “Admit it, you only befriended me because you were looking for a renovation project.”

An odd expression crossed her face. “No. You know why I really took you under my wing? Well, as much as you’ve let me anyway.”

I had always been curious why the coolest girl in school became my friend. “Why?”

“The Virgin Mary appeared to me and told me I’d someday be responsible for saving your soul.”

I burst out laughing, but Carmela didn’t.

“You’re serious?” She had invited me to go to church with her now and then, but never preached.

Carmela gave me a half-hearted nod. “Creepy, huh? If you ever tell anyone I told you that, I’ll kill you. And then I’d have to go to confession, and I really hate going to confession. So, our secret, right?”

“Right.” I noticed her father looking our way. “Thanks for checking on me. You’d better get back to protecting everyone else from evil spirits.”

She seemed grateful to scamper away, and I telephoned my dad to come get me. As I waited outside in the cold, I paced and fought back tears. I willed Jesse to be okay. Even though he lived in fear of his dad, his behavior was often recklessly bold and defiant. The risks he took were dangerous and designed to prove his father’s wrath didn’t intimidate him. A classic daredevil.

One time Cosmic had dragged him along to Denver on what turned out to be a drug run to buy a big stash of OxyContin. Disgusted, Jesse picked his dad’s pocket, stole the wad of cash destined for the drugs, and deposited it into the pocket of a homeless woman. I had been so scared Cosmic would figure it out, but Jesse had the god, Audacity, in his corner.

Another time, the school bully had been ruthless to one of the geeky kids so we broke into the building after hours, picked the lock on the bully’s locker, and filled it with very organic manure. It was awesome.

Jesse was awesome. I had never known anyone like him before.

“So, Jesse’s mom’s sick?” Dad asked when he picked me up.

I knew ‘sick’ in the James’ household was a euphemism for drunk, but didn’t want to spill Jesse’s secrets. “I guess so.”

Dad sighed. “Sounds like his father could have handled it better.”

“His parents could handle a lot of things better.”

“Something I should know? Maybe I can help.”

I shook my head and refused to say anything more.

Later, after Dad and Mom left to go to a party in Boulder, I sat down on the couch—still in full costume—and held my phone trying to decide if I should call Jesse. Two hours later I was still planted there, frozen by fear for him. I had a bad feeling. Finally, my cell rang. The caller
ID
said Jesse, but the voice on the other end sounded nothing like him.

“I screwed up bad,” a deep, slurred voice said.

“Jesse?”

An infant’s harsh cry shattered the long silence on the other end.

“Jesse?”

“Don’t know what I was thinking,” he mumbled. “Wasn’t thinking.”

My heart raced. I stood, and started to pace. “Where are you?”

“Old Tucker farm.”

The abandoned homestead was five miles outside of town.

“Dad passed out. Mom was scary drunk. She was screaming at Belle, and I thought she’d hurt her. Sneaked out with her and Mom’s bottle. But ... but I drank the booze to stay warm and didn’t know it would be like this.”

Jesse had never drunk liquor before. He jokingly said that it was against his religion, but I knew his reluctance stemmed from not wanting to end up like his parents.

“How did you get there?”

“Walked.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” I told him. “I’ll come.”

“Hurry, Glory. If they realize I took Belle they might kill me.”

“I’m coming.”

I hung up and tried to figure out what to do. Our town didn’t have a taxi service. Dad and Mom had made hotel reservations in Boulder so they could drink and not have to drive home that night. Calling Carmela was out of the question—even if her parents would help out, they’d certainly get the cops involved and likely have Jesse expelled from school to boot. I couldn’t think of anyone to call and started to panic.

“Breathe,” I told myself.

Too many deep breaths later, I was dizzy, but had a plan. Jesse had taught me to pick locks, pick pockets, and hotwire cars. I had gone along with him for the novelty, never imagining those outlaw skills would come in handy. I was wrong.

Dad’s old Chevy truck was parked out by the road with a
FOR SALE
sign on it. The keys were with Dad on his chain, but the solution seemed obvious to me.

Midnight dark outside, I held a small flashlight with my teeth and slipped a straightened hanger between the window and the weather stripping. After a few minutes of struggle, the door lock opened with a mechanical thunk. We had practiced both the lock popping and hotwiring on this truck, and I felt on familiar ground.

I realized too late that I should have changed clothes—lying on the floor of a pickup truck to hotwire the ignition in a full petticoat was more than awkward. However, stressed, all I could think of was rescuing Jesse and his sister as quickly as possible. In panic mode, operating more on instinct than rational thought, I somehow remembered exactly which wires to spark and managed to do so without electrocuting myself. I even remembered to tape them off so I could safely drive. The hardest part was breaking the steering lock, but supercharged by adrenaline, I got the job done.