Redemption (Stand-Alone, Spin-Off to Reaper Series), page 5
“Whoa,” Eve said, staring around at everything. “Bit of a hoarder, isn’t he?”
“I think he prefers being called a collector,” Isaiah said, smirking.
“Call it what you want, but he’s got a crap-load of stuff,” Eve said.
Isaiah grinned, then looked at his watch.
“Damn,” he sighed. Then, looking back up at Eve, he said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”
“Oh, you’re going?” Eve asked, and then immediately wished that she had managed to hide the disappointment from her voice.
Isaiah nodded. “Yeah, Mr Javan has a lot on his plate right now, we’re all working overtime. So, uh, yeah, Mr Javan said you can wait here for him, he shouldn’t be too long. He’s just finishing up a meeting in the labs. There’s food in the kitchen, drinks, you can help yourself to whatever you like. Mr Javan said that his home is your home.”
“Oh, okay,” Eve said, this time sounding more nonchalant, wondering what the Hell was wrong with her. “Thanks. It was nice meeting you.”
“Yeah,” Isaiah said, smiling. “You, too.”
Isaiah held to his hand to shake Eve’s once more. Eve smiled back at him and took his hand in hers.
“Ow!” she gasped, pulling her hand back.
“Oh, dammit!” Isaiah said, sounding aghast. “I’m sorry, I think my ring just cut you, are you okay?”
Eve looked down at her hand and saw a small red scratch on the palm of her hand where the carved edges of Isaiah’s steel ring had cut her. As she looked at it, however, the scratch quickly began to fade and mend itself. In only a couple of seconds, it was completely gone, the skin smooth as though nothing had happened at all.
Glancing up at Isaiah, she hoped he hadn’t noticed her Angelic healing ability kicking in, and was relieved that he hadn’t. He simply looked disturbed at the prospect of having hurt her. Smiling, she held up her hand so that he could see her palm and then waved her fingers at him.
“No problem,” she said. “All good.”
Isaiah seemed to sigh with relief. “Good. I’ve cut people with this ring before. I should really wear it on my left hand.”
“Or stop attacking people with it, whichever works best,” Eve grinned.
Isaiah smiled back at her, his blue eyes almost sparkling at her. He began to head back towards the elevator, but seemed to hesitate, lingering for a moment as he looked at Eve. Eve got the feeling he wanted to say something, but before either of them said anything else, Isaiah said one last goodbye and stepped back into the elevator. However, he and Eve maintained eye contact, both smiling, as the doors slid shut.
Eve let out a sigh, but for what reason, she couldn’t say. She felt both relieved and disappointed that Isaiah had gone, but wasn’t sure why. She barely knew him, so there was no reason for her to be feeling so… whatever.
Forcing herself to turn away from the elevator, Eve began to slowly wander around the suite, taking a closer look at everything. She stopped for a moment to appreciate the amazing view of Toronto that Javan had. The sight of steel, concrete, and glass didn’t greatly appeal to Eve, as she preferred the sight of trees, mountains, and green grass, but she could still understand the beauty others would see in this view, looking out over the Toronto skyline.
Turning away from the large windows, Eve happened to glance at a row of paintings hanging close together on the wall. She had initially not noticed them, as she was distracted by all the numerous other artifacts and paintings that filled the suite, but now that she saw them, she was surprised she hadn’t immediately noticed them before. Staring at the paintings, she walked around the large, leather, modular sofa, feeling compelled to study them closer. Eve stood right in front of the paintings, staring at them in wonder.
There were five canvas paintings in total, hung closely together so that the images in each, when looked upon as a whole, made up one large painting. The canvases were all different sizes, being rather narrow in width, but tall, each one being a different height. The two shortest of the canvases were hanging on either side of the row of paintings, getting taller as they progressed towards the center image, which was the tallest.
The image Eve could now see was one she did not expect to find here. As she studied the paintings, she saw a large pair of green eyes, surrounded by locks of flowing, bright red, hair.
Eve looked at her own eyes in the paintings, studying them closely. They had been painted so well, so meticulously, that they looked almost real, like they were more of a photograph than a painting. She could even see an emotion in her eyes. Sadness. Her painted eyes seemed to be full of sadness. Looking closer, Eve could even see the glisten of forming tears in the corners of her eyes. The painter had captured her eyes perfectly, and even managed to paint them in such a way that Eve felt like they were staring right at her.
“Do you like it?”
Eve tore her gaze away from the canvases and saw Javan standing nearby. She had been so surprised and captivated by the painting that she hadn’t noticed the elevator arrive. Javan was wearing another flashy suit, this time consisting of a gray jacket and pants, with a red shirt and tie. He was smiling at Eve, looking pleased with himself as he glanced from her to the paintings and back again.
“I painted them myself,” Javan said, gesturing to the paintings.
“You’re very talented,” Eve said. “Are they supposed to be my eyes?”
“Of course,” Javan said. “Who else has eyes so green?”
Javan moved and stood beside Eve, staring up at the painting with his arms crossed over his chest. Eve watched him study it for a moment, and was briefly reminded of how he used to stare and consider things.
“I imagine you’re wondering why I would paint your eyes?” he asked Eve. “Well, it’s simple. I wanted a reminder. See, your eyes, the way they are in these paintings, are the very last time I saw them before you showed up in Vegas yesterday. It took me a hundred years to capture your pain so well. The pain I had caused. The pain I had placed in your eyes… it has haunted me for more years than I care to count.”
“Javan, you don’t need to-” Eve began, but Javan turned suddenly from the painting to look at her, his expression serious.
“Yes I do, Eve,” Javan interrupted. “I really do.”
Javan sighed and turned back to the paintings.
“I’ve tried for a long time to undo the damage I did,” he said sadly. “I know the repercussions of my actions have echoed through history to the present. So I probably won’t ever be able to fully make up for what I did. But… I can try. That’s why I’ve devoted my immortality to helping people. To making the world a better place. I only hope that one day I’ll be able to change the world completely. Heal the world from its sickness. So that everyone can live in peace. And without suffering.”
“That’s great, Javan,” Eve said. “And you’re doing it. Just look at all you’ve done here. You’re changing so many lives. Isaiah told me how you helped him.”
“He did?” Javan asked, surprised. “What did he say?”
Eve shrugged. “Well, not much. Just that he used to live on the streets, but you gave him a job and a new life.”
Javan smiled. “Yes, I suppose I did. Now, enough about that. Come on, let’s sit. Do you want a drink? I’ve got some amazing gin imported from Australia. Made in a small distillery called Nonesuch. For there is no equal.”
“Alcohol?” Eve smirked. “Doesn’t really have an effect on me, you know. I guess Angels can really hold their liquor.”
“You say that like you’ve tried,” Javan grinned as he sat down on the sofa.
Eve sat diagonal from him, a mischievous grin on her face. “Me? Never!”
Javan laughed loudly, throwing back his head. “It is so great that you’re here, Eve! Just like old times.”
“Well, not quite,” Eve said, gesturing around the suite.
Javan nodded. “Yes, we’ve come a long way in only two million years.”
“One-point-eight,” Eve corrected, intentionally trying to antagonize Javan now, but he waved it off.
“Details,” he chuckled, but then his expression changed, as though he had suddenly remembered something important. “Speaking of which… Eve, I just had an idea.”
“Oh boy,” Eve sighed.
“No, nothing troublesome,” Javan laughed. “No, what I have in mind is a little more… world-changing.”
“I’m not sure that sounds much better,” Eve said.
“Hear me out,” Javan said, leaning forward on the sofa. “When the Global Revelation happened, I thought that the world would finally change. That people might understand that there is far more out there than we can possibly understand, but they don’t. The world hasn’t changed, only the arguments. People are still fighting over which religion is right, why the Angels attacked, who that Azrael was who spoke inside all of our heads… Anti-Angel extremists have been popping up all over the world ever since. Did you know that there are even people who deny the invasion was from Angels at all?”
“Seriously?” Eve asked. “What the Hell do they think the people with wings were? Mutant pigeons?”
“There are lots of theories, each one as ridiculous as the last,” Javan said, clearly frustrated at the thought of them. “But what I’m trying to get at here is the fact that I know one sure-fire way of shutting all these people up once and for all.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
Javan grinned before replying.
“You.”
“Me?” Eve repeated, sounding shocked. “What about me?”
“Here’s my idea,” Javan began. “I’ll arrange a press conference. And you can speak. You can explain what the Angel invasion was about, answer some questions, put everyone at ease. You can teach them, just like you once taught me.”
“Javan,” Eve said slowly, feeling uncomfortable. “I can’t really do that. That is definitely interfering.”
“How?” Javan asked. “Seriously? The whole world knows that Angels exist. It’s not like you’d be changing anything, you’d just be giving people information. Nothing more.”
“I don’t know…” Eve said. “I can’t. I shouldn’t.”
“Eve, listen to me,” Javan said, reaching over and taking Eve’s hand in both of his own. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity here. The world is falling into chaos, more so than ever before. People need to know exactly what is going on in the universe. And that there is an entire race of immortal Angels looking out for them, staying just out of sight, but ready to help. Guiding them in ways they don’t even know.”
“I really don’t think I can, Javan,” Eve said. “My father wouldn’t like it.”
“Wouldn’t he?” Javan asked. “You know millions of people died during the invasion, right?”
“Yeah, but my father brought them back to life,” Eve said, getting annoyed.
“Exactly!” Javan grinned. “He brought them back to life. Brought them back from the dead. Do you think he stopped to consider the impact that would have had on them? How confused they would have been?”
“Well, I’m sure he… I’m sure he understands,” Eve stammered.
“Yes, I am, too,” Javan nodded. “But that doesn’t change the fact that these millions of people died, then suddenly found themselves alive and well, with no explanation, no answers, nothing. The world has always been full of people asking questions, Eve, that will never change. But there are a lot of questions that we can’t answer for ourselves, now. Only you can answer them.”
Eve fell silent as she thought. She knew that most other Angels, if not all, would not like the idea of standing up in front of a large number of humans and spelling everything out for them. Telling them all about Angels, and Heaven… and the Garden.
“Javan, I was punished the last time I interfered,” Eve blurted out. “When I made you sentient. My father was… he was disappointed. Because of me, I nearly doomed humanity.”
“That was my doing, Eve,” Javan said softly. “Not yours. I have spent close to two million years trying to make up for that.”
“It’s not just that,” Eve said. “It’s just… Well, you know all the stories about… about the Devil?”
Javan nodded. “Yes. And?”
“Well…” Eve said slowly, hesitant to say anything. “The stories had to come from somewhere, right? And, well… I guess I inspired them.”
“You inspired them?” Javan repeated, sounding dubious. Suddenly understanding dawned in his eyes and he looked shocked. “My God. Eve… The first man… The apple! My God, Eve, are you saying that…?”
Eve nodded. “Yeah. Look, let’s say for a moment that I agreed to your conference idea… How do you think people would react when they found out that the one answering all their questions was… the Devil?”
Javan shook his head. “You are not the Devil! And I won’t allow anyone to say so, including you.”
“I don’t think everyone would see it that way, Javan.”
“Well, screw them,” Javan snapped. “I don’t care how the idea of the Devil somehow evolved from you trying to help a poor human survive a night that would have definitely killed me. You are a good person, the best. But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll make sure that no one is able to make that kind of connection. We’ll take only pre-approved questions from the media. You can personally choose which ones to answer. If there’s anything there that you feel uncomfortable with, or you feel might break your oath to not interfere, you can just not answer it. Leave everything else to me and Isaiah. We’ll make sure the whole thing runs smoothly. All you would have to do is stand up, answer a couple of questions, and flash everyone your winning smile. Just one look at that smile and I know everyone will just turn to mush.”
Eve grinned and rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
“I speak only the truth,” Javan smirked.
“That’s great and all, but I still don’t know if I can,” Eve insisted. “And really, who would even want to ask me questions?”
“Pfft!” Javan snorted. “How about the whole world? I know for a fact that Isaiah would want to ask you a whole bunch of questions if he knew you were an Angel.” Javan paused, then grinned. “Actually, I ran into him downstairs, coming out of the elevator. I got the feeling he’d like to ask you a few questions regardless. I think he’s a bit taken with you.”
Eve immediately felt herself blush. “What? Shut up. He is not!”
Javan’s grin seemed to only grow wider. “Okay, you have some reservations about the conference, I get that. But please, just think about it, okay? Take a couple of days and get back to me. Actually, I have a better idea.”
Javan let go of Eve’s hand and sat back on the sofa, crossing one leg over the other.
“I’m throwing a charity benefit in a couple of days. I’d really like if you could come.”
“What, like your date?” Eve asked sarcastically.
Javan rolled his eyes. “Please. Like I need the media running a story like that. No, this is a homeless benefit. Raising funds for people living on the street. All the money raised goes directly to improving their lives. I’d really like it if you would be there. Then you could see how much I’ve changed.”
Eve nodded. “I can see that already. But I’ll be there.”
“Excellent!” Javan grinned. “And I don’t want to push, but please think about the conference. I know you think it would be interfering, but it could change everything, Eve. You could change the world. You could save us all.”
6
LOOKING BACK
W
hen Eve was gone some time later, Javan stood in his living room and stared up at the painting of her eyes, his hands clasped behind his back. As the sun set over the Toronto skyline behind him, casting rays of red across the sky, Javan remained motionless, just staring into Eve’s painted eyes. Remembering.
It was almost two million years ago. He had long since lost count of the precise number of years that had passed. Javan had been out on a hunt with the other members of his tribe when a sudden and powerful storm blew in. The wind was so strong it bent the tops of the trees and blew the rain sideways. Javan could hear nothing else but the roar of the wind and the rain. He bent into the wind and looked around, squinting through the rain that painfully stung his eyes. He couldn’t see his hunting party. Somehow he had become separated and was now wandering through the jungle by himself, clutching nothing but his spear, his long hair flying wildly around in the hurricane.
Javan pushed into the wind and continued to walk. Simply taking a single step was difficult, as the hurricane seemed determined to lift him off his feet and carry him away into oblivion. Javan bent his head low and continued to walk. His progress was slow and he didn’t know if he was walking towards the safety of his tribe or not, as the rain was falling so hard and thick, it brought visibility down to only a few yards in any direction.
Following only his instinct for survival, Javan pressed on. He had no concept of time back then, so he could not say how long he walked, but he knew he was cold. So cold… The rain was like ice and the wind even more so, soaking through the pelt he wore and making his limbs go numb. He later knew that he was dying, but at the time, he simply walked into the freezing darkness.
