Milayna's Angel (7 page)

“Wait, I should call Chay and have him go
with you, or maybe Muriel.”

“I’m fine. There are lots of people at the
supermarket.”

She bit her bottom lip before nodding. “Okay,
but be careful.”

I kissed her on the cheek. “Love you.” I ran
out the door and to the car before she changed her mind and called
Muriel or Chay to be my bodyguard.

Thirty minutes later, I walked out of the
supermarket with the groceries. My gaze was drawn to an elderly
woman carrying a single bag and walking toward the road.

Everything around me screeched to a stop. The
cars froze on the road. The people talking and moving around the
shopping center’s parking lot stilled. An airplane hung stationary
in midair. Only the woman moved. She slowly inched her way toward
the crosswalk.

In the quiet, I heard the far-off motor of a
vehicle. I watched it move along the road. The cars around it were
like holographic images. It drove right through them, barreling
toward the crosswalk where the old woman stood waiting to cross the
street.

My breathing increased. I tried to
concentrate on the vision, afraid the van was going to hit the
woman. My heart hammering in my head, I watched as the old woman
stepped off the curb. She was slowly making her way across the road
when her bag fell to the ground, spilling what little groceries she
had across the pavement.

She started to gather the items. Folding her
long coat up, she made a pouch to carry her things. She was loading
her coat with her food when she noticed the van. It was coming too
fast to stop, even if the man at the wheel had been watching—he
wasn’t. He wasn’t going the speed limit either. Not unless the
small neighborhood market had been located on the Autobahn.

I sucked in a breath to scream for her to
move. She let go of the edge of her coat and scurried out of the
way of the van barreling toward her. Trying to hurry, she lost her
balance and fell on all fours against the curb. Her hands and knees
scraped and bloodied, she heaved her body from the ground, and
walked safely to the sidewalk lining the street.

She turned and looked at the remnants of her
groceries. The van never slowed down, plowing over her things. A
meager supply of fresh fruits and vegetables were smashed into
puddles on the street. A flattened loaf of bread and a smashed
carton of eggs littered the pavement. A small container of milk
leaked into the gutter, turning the dirty water an opaque tan, like
the color of coffee with creamer in it.

The woman bent down and fished two cans of
soup from the filthy gutter. The only items not ruined. Shoulders
slumped, she shuffled down the sidewalk, stuffing her two cans of
soup in her coat pockets.

I jerked as the sights and sounds around me
came crashing back. I looked around and saw the woman making her
way toward the crosswalk, carrying her one small bag of
groceries—just like in my vision.

“Ma’am, let me help you.” I jogged to catch
up to her.

She looked me up and down, a small frown
pulling at her thin lips, which were covered with cracked lipstick
two shades too light for her mocha-colored skin.

“Let me help you carry your things across the
road. The bag looks heavy, and there’s so much traffic today.” I
reached tentatively toward her bag, trying not to startle her into
thinking I was going to steal her things.

Now that I could see her close up, I realized
how important that one bag of groceries probably was to her. Her
coat was stained and torn. Her stockings had runs and small holes
in them, the soles of her shoes flapping when she walked. She
looked like a lady who lived paycheck to paycheck, barely scraping
by. The type who wouldn’t be able to afford to replace lost
groceries. I wondered what she would eat if I wasn’t able to stop
her and the van destroyed her food.

“I could use some help,” she said quietly.
“The cold weather isn’t kind to me.” I looked at her hands and saw
her knuckles twisted and swollen from arthritis.

“I don’t mind helping. Do you live there?” I
pointed to a small apartment complex on the other side of the
road.

“Yes.”

“I can carry them for you.” She hesitated a
moment before handing me her bag with a small smile.

“Thank you,” she said.

“I’m Milayna.” I swung my canvas shopping
tote over my shoulder so I could carry her bag.

“It’s nice to meet you, Milayna. I’m Mae.”
She turned to step off the curb; I held my arm out for her to lean
on. She grabbed it and pushed off the curb just as the van sped by,
never slowing down, never looking for pedestrians. “My, he’s going
fast.” Mae looked at the back of the van speeding down the
street.

“Yes, he is.”

I walked Mae to her apartment complex. She
leaned heavily on my arm, using me as a crutch as we slowly made
our way down the cracked and crumbling sidewalk. The apartments
were small and rundown. Garbage littered the walkway and cigarette
butts and empty beer cans were strewn across the property. I walked
beside her as she slowly made her way to her unit. While she was
preoccupied with digging her keys out of her purse, I slipped two
twenties and some of the food I’d bought into her bag.

“Thank you,” she said, turning and taking her
bag. “Let me give you something for helping—”

“No, no, I can’t take anything. I did it
because I wanted to help, not because I wanted you to give me
anything. You have a good day. It was nice meeting you, ma’am.”

“Goodbye, Milayna.”

“Bye.” I waved and walked down the walkway,
making my way across the street and back to my car.

Sometimes life as a demi-angel sucked,
especially when you had demons up your butt. But sometimes, it was
the best thing ever, like when I could help someone who really
needed it, like Mae.

“Milayna, where’s the lettuce and tomatoes?”
My mom dug around in the bag. “You didn’t get half of what was on
the list. What happened?”

I told her about the vision. “Oh, and I kinda
slipped your forty dollars into Mae’s shopping bag,” I said with a
cringe.

“That’s okay, Milayna. You did the right
thing. We’ll just have pizza for dinner instead of cooking.”

I wondered what Mae was eating and prayed she
had enough.

***

“What are you doing up?” my dad asked on his
way to the kitchen. It was just before midnight. I was sitting on
the couch in the living room. It faced a large picture window
overlooking our front yard and the street beyond it.

“Texting Chay.”

“You two need to knock off the texting so
late at night. Your fingers are going to get raw from pushing the
buttons.”

“Yeah. Look in the street, Dad.”

“Who is that? He stood in front of the window
and moved the sheer curtain out of the way. “Uh-oh.”

“They’ve been out there for an hour. The
hobgoblins are here too. They run through the front yard every once
in a while, but for the most part, they’re in the back with
Chay.”

“Why didn’t you come get me, Milayna?”

“Chay saw the hobgoblins in the yard and
jumped the fence. He’s out there with them. I’ve been watching Lily
and Jake, and they’re just standing there. I didn’t see any reason
to come get you. Besides, I didn’t want to upset Mom.”

“She isn’t taking this too well, that’s for
sure. She thought we were done with this mess. We all did. You
still should have let me know what was going on.”

“Sorry.” I never took my eyes off Lily and
Jake, who were standing in the street like statues watching our
house.

“Who else did you text?”

“Everyone in the group.”

“Good. I’m gonna call the police.” He sighed.
“What a mess.”

The pain came swiftly, piercing. It felt like
someone was stabbing me between the eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut
and pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers. Bending forward,
I wrapped my arm around my knees.

I felt the phone vibrate next to me.

Chay. He’ll be inside in a few seconds. As
soon as he realizes I’m not going to answer, he’ll come see what’s
wrong.

I was right. It wasn’t ten seconds later that
he barged through the door, nearly knocking into my dad.

“Sir,” he said.

“Son, what are you doing?”

“It’s Milayna.” Chay rounded the corner
followed closely by my dad. “A vision?” he asked me.

“Not yet,” I answered. My teeth clenched so
tightly against the stabbing pain in my head that my jaw throbbed
and the muscles in my neck were corded.

Me. Arms stretching out toward me. A hand
grasping my neck. Squeezing, squeezing. I can’t breathe. My head
pounds, and stars blink in front of my eyes. The person squeezes
harder… The edges of the room start to blur…

I clawed at invisible hands around my throat,
gasping for breath. Chay touched my arm gently; I flung his hand
away. I couldn’t breathe. My head pounded in time to my rapid
heartbeat—like a drum banging inside my skull, pounding out a
rhythm only it knew. My lungs burned, starved for oxygen.

Can I die from a vision? Is some unseen force
really strangling me?

I felt dizzy. Kicking my feet back and forth
against the carpet, I tried to back away from the sensation. My
back pressed deep into the sofa’s cushions. I could hear my dad’s
panicked voice. He sounded so far away.

The hands squeeze harder. I scratch them with
my fingernails, blood oozing from the angry lines, but my attacker
doesn’t let go. I’m going to die.

I heard a blip from a police car, and the
vision dissolved. Falling on my knees in front of the couch, I held
my throat. I sucked in large lungsful of air. Slowly, the room came
back into focus. The stars in front of my eyes disappeared and were
replaced by the rolling red and blue lights coloring the living
room walls.

I looked up and saw Lily and Jake standing in
the spotlight of the police cruiser. The bright white light washed
out their faces and made them look like the gray demons they worked
for. The red and blue lights mixed with the white spotlight gave
them a sinister look. As if they sensed I was thinking about them,
they turned and stared at the house one last time before the
officer ushered them into the back of the police car.

“Milayna! Are you okay?” My dad’s worried
voice broke through my thoughts.

“Can someone die from a vision? I felt like I
was dying. The person was strangling me, and I couldn’t breathe,
Dad.” I rubbed my neck again.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never heard of
anyone dying from a vision, but I’ve also never seen someone have
such strong visions as you.”

“Great.”

“What’d you see? Anything new?” Chay
asked.

I shook my head. “Just the same arms, hands
reaching for my throat. And then the person was strangling me. I
kind of lost track of the vision then. I physically felt the
sensation of being strangled. It was hard to concentrate.”

Chay pulled me against him, hugging me tight.
He stroked his hand down my hair, smoothing it against my back.
“I’m so sorry.”

“For what? You aren’t doing this. Azazel has
found a new way to hurt me. This person the hobgoblins have been
warning me about. He’s behind this somehow. Are they still back
there?”

“They were when I came inside.”

“Good. Let’s go see them.”

Chay walked into the yard before me. Scarface
and Friendly ran over to him.

“Is Milayna okay?” Scarface asked.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because he was here. You should be…”

“What? Dead?”

The goblin tilted its head to the side.
“Well, not alive.”

I rolled my eyes.
In my world, ‘not alive’
means dead. I’m not sure what it means in the underworld.

“I’m alive, guys. And it’s time for you to
go.”

I picked them up by the scruff of their necks
and threw them in the air. Just before they popped out of sight, I
heard Scarface say, “Azazel’s not going be happy.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if Azazel’s happy,”
I muttered.

“Come here.” Chay pulled me into his arms.
His lips found mine, and my body warmed and melted into him. I
sighed. He lifted his head and looked at me, pursing his lips to
hide a self-satisfied grin. “I guess I should go.”

“Probably.”

“Then I’ll just…” He gestured to the
fence.

I fisted my hand in the front of his shirt
and pulled him to me for another toe-curling kiss. He traced the
outline of my lips with his tongue before dipping it between them.
I moaned and pulled him closer, until I didn’t know where one
started and the other of us began.

“Milayna! Come in the house,” my mom
called.

“Busted,” Chay murmured against my lips.

“Foiled again, Batman,” I said with a
laugh.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“It is tomorrow.”

“You’re frustrating this early in the
morning,” he grumbled and tried to glare at me. I laughed. “I’ll
see you later. A movie?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.” I waved at him before
he jumped the fence and walked toward his house.

Damn my mother. Couldn’t she see how great
that kiss was—she had to interrupt it? Then again, she probably
could see how great it was and that’s why she interrupted it.

I smiled. Chay was amazing. He made me feel
safe and loved, and I couldn’t get enough of him.

I’m a Chay junkie.

6

My cell phone rang at nine o’clock Saturday
morning. “Have I failed to mention I’m not a morning person?” I
said into the receiver.

“Nope. You’ve told me a few times, but I just
woke up and I like hearing your voice before anything else,” Chay
answered.

Ugh, how can I be irritated at him when he
says things like that?

“You wanna come over for breakfast?” I wiped
the sleep drool off my cheek.