Shattered (the Spellbound Series Book 2) (6 page)

Instead of kissing him on the cheek like I normally would, I turn and walk down the steps to the subway.

The whole ride home, I keep replaying the conversation with Navarro in my head. I feel even more empty than I did this morning. At least this morning, I knew what I was. I’d been born a human being. Now, I have no idea what to call myself.

Then, my conversation with Michael creeps up again, and I remember how evasive he became when I asked if he was a spellcaster. If he’s something other than human, and really my father, that would explain why I am the way I am. It’s a long shot, but it’s all I have to go on. More than anything else, right now I just want answers.

The minute I get home, I turn on my laptop, pacing impatiently while it’s booting up. I turn to Google, and realize as I’m staring at the search bar that I have no clue what it is I’m looking for. First, I try Conduit, but that only turns up results about electrical currents that I don’t understand. Then I remember the other, older term Michael used for people like me. Nephilim.

Nephilim at least leads me to a page that feels relevant. I scan through the paragraphs describing their lore, and finally come upon one that explains what they are. Goosebumps spread across my skin as I read the words, “According to Genesis 6:4, Nephilim are the offspring of the sons of God, and the daughters of men.” I still don’t entirely understand what that means, so I click on the segment ‘sons of God’, which links me to a picture of a man with white feathered wings expanding from his back.

And I gasp.

If I’m right, which I hope I’m not for once, Nephilim are half angel, and half human.

I might be the daughter of an angel.

6

             
My head is reeling. I can almost feel my mind shutting down, everything pulsing, my head throbbing like there’s something inside hammering its way out. I’m human. I have to be, I always have been. I can’t be half angel, that just sounds… crazy. But at the same time, I don’t think I’m wrong. The clues I’ve been handed have all led me here.

              Out of curiosity, and to distract myself from the gnawing feeling that everything I know about myself is a lie, I try researching angels as well. From what Google is telling me, they’re mostly just men with wings. Some women too, but they’re apparently not as common. Next on my list of research topics is Michael, and I’m easily led towards a page showing Michael as a soldier, his wings spread out wide, and a flaming sword in his hand. The painting at the top of the article even looks like him, his blonde hair and golden skin surprisingly accurate for a painting of someone who shouldn’t actually exist. The only thing the artist got wrong was the color of his eyes. My eyes.

              I jump when I hear something moving in the kitchen, and rush over to see what’s going on. I don’t know why I’d been expecting an intruder; I suppose maybe that’s what I wanted, someone to take out my frustration on. But it’s just my mom, making a sandwich for herself. When she spots me, her face lights up, and for a moment I forget that there’s anything wrong. She smiles and says, “Hey, kid. I didn’t know you were home! You hungry?”

              I’m not. In fact, I’m sick to my stomach. And the more I look at my mother, the sicker I feel. The rush of okayness that came with seeing her fades as quickly as it sprang into being. Without thinking, I blurt out, “You lied to me.”

              “I did? About what?”

              At first, I can’t answer. I’d had the courage to start this conversation, but it’s faltering now that we’re actually having it. Before I lose all my resolve, I dart into the living room to grab my laptop, and place it down on the counter in front of my mom, with the page featuring Michael’s likeness still open. My voice shakes a little more than I’d like it to, but I slowly tell her, “I know. About my father… everything you’ve ever told me about him was a lie.”

              My mother’s face pales as my words sink in, and she abandons her lunch to try and hug me, but I back away from her. She lets her arms hang down by her sides, and says, “I wanted to tell you, Heather…”

              “What stopped you?”

              “I was hoping he was full of it, and that you would come out normal. I thought I might be able to protect you if I kept you in the dark-“

              “Wait… you knew? You knew Michael was an angel?”

              “He didn’t tell me until after I had you, but yes.”

              I reach out a hand to steady myself on the counter. It feels like the world is spinning. She knew. She knew Michael wasn’t human, that I wouldn’t grow up normal. What else did he tell her? I have to know. I do my best to look my mother in the eye, and ask, “Did Michael ever tell you his plans for me?”

              “Yes.”

              “And what, you were okay with that? Raising a lamb for the slaughter?”

              “That’s not how it was-“

              “Bullshit, mom!” I don’t normally swear in front of her, but right now, I’m too pissed to care. Other people keeping things from me is something of a pet peeve, but it’s still to be expected. But I trust my mother more than anything, and she’s the one that’s been withholding the biggest secrets for the longest. That’s unacceptable. “If you knew what he had planned, then you know there’s another person like me around. Another ‘Nephilim’. And when we meet, it’s kill or be killed.”

              “What was I supposed to do, kill my own child? I didn’t know anything until I had you, and I asked him to stay away from us afterwards. I couldn’t-“

              “You could have told me! You could have prepared me for this! Or if you wanted a ‘normal’ child so badly, you could have gotten rid of me, hooked up with somebody normal, and tried again!”

              That might have been taking it too far. My mom’s blinking back tears now, but to be fair, I’m in danger of having to do the same. “You wouldn’t understand,” she says, “because you’ve never been a mother. But I loved you the moment I first saw you. And when I first held you, I knew I could never even consider giving you up. Not then and not now.”

              I suppose I should thank her for having a moral objection to giving me up. Maybe even try to forgive her for lying to my face for nineteen years. But I can’t right now. The wound’s too fresh. I slam my laptop shut, and scoop it up as I turn out of the room.

              “Where are you going?,” my mom calls after me.

              “Away,” is the best answer I can manage.

              I can hear the hurt in my mother’s tone the next time she speaks. “Are you coming back?”

              I don’t know where it is I’m going, or how long I’m going to be gone, but I reply, “…Yeah. I’ll be back. I just… Right now, I just need to get out of here.”

***

              I hadn’t planned on taking the subway to Alyssa’s loft. She’s not exactly my first choice for company right now; I’m still a little upset with her, but whether it’s because of how I met her girlfriend, or the fact that she
has
one, I can’t tell. But out of my trusted circle, she’s the only person I can turn to. Right now, I can’t trust my mother any further than I can throw her. The same goes for Nick, after what happened this morning. Rachel would be sympathetic, but she wouldn’t really understand. Jenna would understand even less, considering she’s the only normal person left in my life, and barely has time for me and Rachel between school and her ridiculous work schedule. Krystal is busy handling the Caelestia clan’s affairs, and Landon’s latest work is being put up in a gallery at MOMA, so naturally, that’s how I wound up sitting on Alyssa’s couch, with her cat Gideon sprawled out on my lap.

              Alyssa, for her part, listens quietly while I tell her everything that’s happened over the past few days. I even include the part where Nick and I have sex, even though I’m sure it kills her to hear about us. I can’t help it; once I start talking, everything spills out. Alyssa takes it all in without comment until I’m finished, and the weight of unsaid words is off my shoulders. It isn’t until then that she voices her one observation: “Things tend to get really fucked up, really quickly when you’re involved.”

              “That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”

              “At least your life isn’t boring.”

              “Allie. Helping or hurting?”

              “Sorry. It’s just, there’s not much I can say. You’ve been dealt a shitty hand, but that doesn’t mean the game stops just for you. You need to figure out how to work with what cards you’ve got.”

              “Yeah, I guess.” I frown down on Gideon, who’s looking up at a strand of my hair like he’s ready to pounce. She’s right, of course; the world
isn’t
going to stop for me just because I’m having a shitty week, even when it’s being caused by people I love. And that’s one of the many reasons I like having Alyssa on my side. What comes out of her mouth is often pretty harsh, but it’s always what you need to hear. When I look up, she’s giving me her worried look, so I clear my throat and ask, “What should I do?”

              “About the angel thing? You can’t exactly change your genetics.”

              “Yeah, no shit. Any other nuggets of wisdom you’d like to share?”

              “I don’t know. Maybe there’s a way to contact Michael, and have him teach you how to track down the other Nephilim before they become a problem.”

              Now it’s my turn to fix Alyssa with a worried stare. “Do you know me at all? Allie, look at me. I can’t kill anyone-“

              “You can, easily. You just won’t.”

              “Because it’s wrong!”

              “True. But if Michael’s telling the truth, it would be for the greater good.”

              “If the ‘greater good’ involves killing innocent people, then I want no part in it.”

              Alyssa lets out a sigh, and leans back in her armchair. “Fine. Play hero. See where that gets you. I’m just saying, it’s an option.”

              “What are the others?”

              “Pretend there is no problem until things get out of hand. That’s always worked out so well in the past.”

              I shrug, and look down at Gideon while I scratch the orange patch of fur just under his chin. He starts purring, and I decide that I like animals a hell of a lot more than I like people right now.

              A teapot in the kitchen starts whistling, and Alyssa gets up to take it off the stove. She fills our mugs with piping hot water, and says, “As for the rest of it… I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you need to go easy on Nick.”

              “What?” I can’t believe what I just heard, either. Alyssa and Nick might be civil towards one another, but they’re not friends by any stretch of the imagination. And she’d normally never take his side.

              “Think about it. Last week he knew who and what he was, but now his whole world has probably been turned on its head. Doesn’t that sound familiar?”

              I glare at Alyssa, but I don’t answer. Of course it does.

              “He’s probably having just as much trouble adjusting to things as you are. And when you throw in the fact that his family doesn’t want him around, he’s probably hurting in a huge way. You can’t imagine how much that sort of thing stings.”

              And she’s right, I can’t. But she can; I still remember visiting Alyssa’s mother with her last year, and seeing the degree to which she hated her own daughter. I never would have thought Alyssa and Nick would have anything in common, but it at least explains why she’s being sympathetic towards him. “Fine,” I mutter as I throw up my hands in defeat. “So I’m not the only one going through a lot. I guess I’ll let him off the hook for now.”

              “Good. Now, as for your mom-“

              “No. I wasn’t exactly nice to her, but I’m not about to forgive her so easily.”

              Alyssa comes back into the living room, holding two steaming mugs of raspberry zinger. She takes a seat next to me on the couch, prompting Gideon to migrate onto her lap instead of mine. As I take my first sip, she says, “You can’t keep lashing out at people when they try to protect you the only way they know how. You need to go back and apologize.”

              “How could you possibly take her side on this?”

              “Maybe I wish I could have the kind of relationship with my mom that you do.”

              Using the broken home card was low of her, but again, I know Alyssa is right. I do have to fix things with my mom. But I’m not ready to do so just yet. “Fine. Just, not tonight.”

              “Fine. You can crash here until you’re ready.”

              “Are you sure?”

              Alyssa leans in close, and whispers, “Please stay. I know I needed roommates, but Holly and Joseph are the worst company I could have asked for. People on the outside are the only reason I’m still sane.”

              “What’s so bad about them?”

              “They’re both way too bitchy, and loud. It’s hard to write in this kind of environment. And-”

              I wait for Alyssa to continue her sentence, then realize why she stopped seconds later. Almost on cue, Joseph emerges from his room with a stack of dishes in one hand, and his cell phone in the other. He dumps the dishes into the sink and returns to his room, without looking up from his text or acknowledging either me or Alyssa. As soon as his door slams shut, Alyssa continues, “And they seem to think that just because they’re living in
my
space, keeping it clean is
my
responsibility.”