Heaven Sent (21 page)

I heard Guy coming up the walkway, opened the door before he could knock, and tumbled into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Whoa. I like these greetings. You have to invite me over more often.” He was smiling his smile as I kissed him on the lips and inhaled his cinnamon fragrance.

“Come in, come in,” I said, suddenly yanking him inside and shutting the door behind him. “I now know why you were so insistent on coming to the wedding with me, why you’ve been so protective.”

“Really?” he replied, his expression turning curious.

“At least I think I do. This,” I said. I smiled knowingly as I revealed the parchment paper.

His expression turned cautious. “Okay.”

“Now’s not the time to be cryptic, Guy. I have big news about a demon. But before I tell you, I’m going to ask you something. Please tell me the truth.”

“Of course. Always.”

I dragged him into the living room and pushed him down on the sofa. He was starting to look worried.

Thump, bump!

A crash upstairs drew our attention to the ceiling.

“What’s that?” he said, jumping up.

“Relax, Sir Lancelot,” I said, clutching his arm. “There’s nothing to protect me from. It’s just Amanda. She’s always getting into stuff. I better go check, though. Come. You should meet her.”

Crash!

The crash was loud—too loud. It sounded as if Amanda had just destroyed my bed… But that was impossible. I hurried to the staircase. When I realized Guy hadn’t moved to follow, I looked back. He was still standing in front of the sofa, and now appeared more than worried. He seemed downright terrified.

“What’s the matter?” I called.

A wail erupted upstairs that reverberated throughout the house. It was as if a banshee on steroids had been let loose in my bedroom. I could hear something giant and dangerous thrashing around up there, trying to get out.

I again looked up to the ceiling, and as I did, a cool chill rippled my skin and rifled up my spine. I turned back to Guy, my lips trembling.

“What. Is. Amanda?” he asked in a demanding tone I’d never heard before. His voice had turned guttural and coarse, and in that moment I realized I was right in not bringing him here for all the wrong reasons.

As I stared into his terror-filled eyes, I knew my entire universe had been nothing but a sand castle, and like all sand castles, it was about to come to a tumultuous end.

“You?” The word was mist on my tongue, coming out as breathy air. I was trembling like a jack hammer.

Guy was now inching his way out of the room, backing toward the door.

“I wanted to tell you. So many times, I wanted to tell you. But how could I?” he cried out, his voice wracked with anguish.

“It can’t be true. You can’t be…”

He didn’t respond. His eyes were filled with both pain and horror as he continued backing away.

Heavy breathing from atop the landing alerted me to the horror on Guy’s face.

Amanda had changed since I’d last seen her. A six-foot long strikingly muscular, gray and black feline stood on the landing leering at Guy. Her once cute face was all hard angles; her upper incisors jutted several inches from her mouth like the fangs of a sabre tooth tiger. A set of shiny, black bat wings protruded from her back, flexing, as if at any moment she would to take flight. A low rumble, like that of a Ferrari, emanated from deep in her chest.

The most terrifying thing about her, however, were her eyes. They were large, green, and luminescent cat’s eyes, staring at Guy, filled with murderous intent. She cried out again, and the high pitched sound nearly ruptured my eardrums.

She leapt, and when I looked back to where Guy had been standing, he was gone, the front door now gaping open, like a wound. Amanda wasted no time scrambling out the door after him.

I ran to the door and looked out onto the street. I watched in horror as Amanda bounded up the street in giant flying leaps. Guy was nowhere in sight. His motorcycle was still at the curb across the street from my house. He’d gotten farther on foot than any human could have travelled on the motorcycle. In seconds Amanda disappeared from view. A few minutes later I heard her distant cry. It sounded like the cry of victory. The darkness inside me hoped she had killed him.

*

The word “betray” is derived from the Latin
tradere,
which is an early form of the word ‘traitor.’ You know, like stab someone very close to you in the back. The word was first used back in the 1300s, which means the idea of betrayal has been around for a long, long time. But it doesn’t get old, does it?

I was seated on my sofa blaming myself for being so stupid as not to see through him.

How could Guy have become a demon?

I remembered the talk he’d given me on the difference between
falling
and
fallen
and realized why he knew so much. Guy had fallen. I mean,
really
fallen. “But why?” I said out loud. “And why lead me on the way you did? What could you possibly gain from this?”

Angry tears washed my cheeks. I wanted answers. I needed answers. I sighed deeply as it occurred to me that Matt had been trying to warn me about Guy for nearly three weeks. “Thank you, Matt,” I said softly.

I was disoriented. I felt weak and wounded. Yet no matter how betrayed I was feeling, no matter what horror I had discovered, I still had to go to work. I’m sure I could have called in sick, but I needed something to keep me from going to pieces. Slinging cappuccinos would fill the bill.

Once I arrived at the cafe, however, I realized what a bad idea it was. I couldn’t concentrate. I kept going over every moment of my relationship with Guy in my mind, wondering when he had turned, when he had decided to betray me. Had it occurred during his trip to hell?

“Is something wrong?” Three different people asked me the same question, and for each of them I smiled and made a lame excuse: “No. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

At two p.m. my phone hummed. It was text from Maudrina:

How’d it go?

Crazy. I’ll call you after work

While I didn’t want to talk about it, I couldn’t keep it from her. My life had become a web of secrets, and I had been ensnared by one of them. I needed to get everything out into the open. Maudrina was my best friend. If I couldn’t trust her, who could I trust?

Certainly not Guy.

My shift dragged on like the last day of school, feeling more like twelve hours instead of eight. Fifteen minutes before the shift was about to end, I received another text.

Please let me explain. Meet me in our spot. No harm will come to you.

My heart nearly stopped when I saw the text from Guy. Fresh anger began bubbling inside me like a dormant volcano come to life, and as it did, a light breeze wafted through the café. Several of my coworkers looked up, puzzled, because the door was closed and yet wind was blowing.

“That’s strange,” said Bob, who was working next to me at the bar. The chandeliers overhead swayed back and forth.

“Yeah, it is. I think it’s coming from the back room. I’ll go check and see if someone left the back door open.”

I hustled from the front of the store, breathing deeply as I tried to get my emotions under control. I entered the back room and slumped into a chair. The breeze was stronger here.

It’s all right Megan. It’s going to be fine. Just hear him out… and after he’s said his piece, you can release the furies upon him.

I smiled at the idea of unleashing my anger on Guy, and the gentle breeze increased to a stiff wind. A handful of napkins were snatched from a dispenser and took to the air, fluttering around me like doves. A stack of paper coffee cups toppled over.

Fortunately I was the only one around to witness the indoor storm. My thoughts moved to my innocent coworkers, Bob and Andie and Jennifer, and all the others who’d been so kind and helpful to me. I could hurt them if I didn’t get it together.

It was these thoughts, my concern for my friends, that allowed me to get my feelings under control. The wind slowed and eventually faded along with my anger.

I wasn’t afraid of him. I knew I should have been. I was about to confront a demon, but I wasn’t, not one bit. Guy owed me an explanation, and I was hell bent—excuse the pun—on getting one. Several minutes after the wind had died down, I went back out onto the floor and finished my shift. When it was over, I said a calm goodbye to my coworkers.

“Get some sleep,” Bob called.

“I will. Tomorrow I’ll be back to my old self.”

I plastered a smile on my face, calmly walked out the door, and without stoking the fire that was once again raging within, made a beeline for school.

*

He was sitting in our spot in the bleachers.

I saw him there, in his stupid tee shirt and dumb jeans, before I started across the field. The breeze sprang up again as if out of nowhere. The term
ill wind
, came to mind. It accompanied me across the field, rippling my clothing and mussing my hair. I didn’t try to stop it. I allowed the wind along, as if it were a suitor that I’d put off and was finally giving in to. The track and field were empty, no one around for my mood to harm except for Guy.
So I let the winds blow. And if he gets hurt—good.
It would be nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

A smile appeared on his lips as I neared. “Crazy weather we’re having,” he called. It was a cautious smile, and I could tell from the look in his eyes it could vanish at any moment.

“It’s like a storm of lies,” I called back as the wind gust tossed his hair. “I see my cat didn’t destroy you. Shame.”

He winced, ever so slightly, yet clung to the smile so as not to give me the satisfaction of wiping it off his face. “I love you in that uniform.”

It was then I realized I hadn’t changed out of my Insomniacs’ tee shirt and apron. I reached the foot of the bleachers and stopped. “You said you wanted to explain,” I snapped, not giving him the satisfaction of small talk. “Explain.”

“Yes. Of course.” The smile eased from his lips. “Would I be overstepping my bounds if I invited you to sit?”

“You would. I don’t sit with demons.”

Try as he might, he could not hide that my words had torn into him like a shard of glass. He let out a breathy sigh as the wind continued ripping through his hair. It rattled the bleachers.

“Why, Guy? Why?” A swarm of questions had been hovering at the forefront of my mind all day, ever since I’d known the truth. I couldn’t hold back asking them any longer.

“To begin with, I am not your angel, Guy Matson. I am the demon, Orthon.”

“You’re not Guy?” I could feel the noose around my heart loosen just a bit. The wind whipping the air around us ceased. “You’re not
Guy
?” I repeated.

“No,” he replied. His voice was firm, yet filled with remorse. It was the first time I‘d seen his dreamy eyes without any light behind them. “My particular skill is shape-shifting, which is why Satan chose me for the task.”

“Where’s Guy?” I demanded.

“I don’t know. Still recuperating in heaven, I imagine.”

I could hardly believe my ears. Guy, my Guy was still out there somewhere.

“So he’s… safe?”

He nodded. “As far as I know.”

“What is this task?” I snapped. Hearing that my Guy was safe, I was now eager to push on.

“I had been charged with encouraging you to use your abilities.”

“Why?”

“Please, sit,” he said patting the bench next to him. I didn’t move. “I plan to give you a full explanation, and it’s going to take a while. Your legs will get tired.” He patted the bench again.

I climbed into the bleachers and moved two rungs above him, where I sat and folded my arms across my chest. “Explain yourself… demon.” When I said the word he winced. I vowed to myself to use the word every chance I got.

“This deception began during your battle with Satan.”

“I defeated Satan.”

“You did,” he replied. “But winning a battle is not the same as winning the war. No one understands that better than Satan. He loses many battles. One might say, he loses most battles, and yet he is always poised to win.”

“Stop bragging about Satan and get back to your story, demon,” I said in a harsh tone. His eyes quivered in pain.

“When it was clear that you had
The Book of Calls
and he could not win, that you had defeated him, Satan performed his most dastardly trick. He imbued you with some of his power.”

“He did that on purpose?” I slid to the edge of my seat.

“Yes, he most certainly did.”

It was hard to believe. All this time I’d thought the power had rubbed off by accident. “I don’t get it. What could he gain by empowering me? He must know that I’ll use my power for good.”

A desolate smile appeared on his lips. “He knows that very well. He’s counting on it.” He looked into my eyes. “Megan, he’s not some thug off the street. He’s Satan. He is cunning. He is calculating. He knew that you would underestimate him. Mortals always do. He counts on it.”

“But if I use the power for good, he doesn’t benefit.”

He sighed as if exasperated with me and ran a hand through his hair. “Satan’s power contains all the darkness of hell. It is
his
power, evil power, and each time you use it, it draws you closer to him. That is why you must promise me you will never use your abilities again.”

I could feel outrage darkening my skin. “First you tell me you were sent here to get me to use my abilities, and then you tell me not to use them. What kind of trick is this, demon?”

“Encouraging you to use your abilities was indeed my mission. But, Megan, dearest, I abandoned that mission the moment I fell in love with you.”

Members of the football team emerged from the lockers and began jogging around the track. Summer practice would be starting up soon. Time to get in shape. I watched the runners circle the oval. They were just like my thoughts, on a hamster wheel, running in circles inside my mind. My thoughts were crashing into my emotions as they went around and around.

I looked at the demon seated two rungs below me in the bleachers who looked like Guy and smelled of cinnamon. I sniffed the air and realized the cinnamon was there to mask a foulness about him. “Don’t speak of love, demon. Explain why you don’t want me to use my abilities.” I again saw the effects of my words on his face. Good.