Fall From Grace, page 9
part #9 of the Preternatural Chronicles Series
Following his eyes, I slowly turned to see my hand was glowing white, the air wavering above it like a Texas highway in the middle of summer.
“What the Burt’s Bees…?” I drawled as I moved my left index finger toward the glowing hand. I could feel the immense heat cooking the air around it like sticking a hand inside a preheated oven.
It was then my hand decided it didn’t want to be numb anymore.
“HOLLY JOLLY CHRISTMAS!” I shrieked as I grabbed my wrist and began hopping up and down while blowing on the white-hot hand with quick blasts from heaving lungs. “Affwooo. Affwooo. Affwooo.”
Nurse Isaac repositioned his wand while muttering something under his breath, and a freezing wind glided from his instrument. The frigid air pushed through the wavering heat and began to cool my burning hand with a pleasant light whoosh sound.
The relief was not as immediate as I was hoping for. Even with the ever-present angelic armor, the heat I had somehow created was epic in the literal sense of the word. *Quickly remembers the actual definition.* Okay, maybe not literal. But the colloquial version of it for sure.
“Owwy, owwy, ow-ow-oooooow-how-howwwww!” I exclaimed in an ultramanly baritone and not in a falsetto that could only be replicated by Will Ferrell.
As my hand cooled, I was taken aback to see that the gauntlet had manifested itself, but I hadn’t been able to tell from the glowing white aura that had been almost blinding. It was like my freaking fist had become a star for a few seconds.
“Go-good job,” I winced while placing my free hand on Isaac’s shoulder and giving him a quick nudge of appreciation.
He didn’t seem to notice, instead seeming more interested in the giant hole I had somehow created.
“What’s the meaning of this?!” Elder Gryff demanded as he half jogged down the hall decked out in his battle gear.
“Who talks like that?” I whispered to Isaac before quietly mimicking, “What’s the meaning of this, ah-derpy-derr.”
“Vampire!” Elder Gryff growled in warning, decelerating his jog to a powerful stride, glowing wand still at the ready.
“It’s just John, actually,” I called out with a friendly wave of my slowly healing hand, the gauntlet disappearing since I was no longer in immediate danger.
“Whoa,” I exhaled as my skin went from a charred black to a bright pink in the amount of time it took Elder Gryff to finally reach where Isaac and I stood. “Epic.”
“I don’t think you used that word right,” Isaac helpfully added before stepping back to give Elder Gryff the space he needed to get alllll up in my biz-nass.
Unlike Isaac, the Red Cloak had no compunction about sticking the tip of his wand under my chin and into my skin.
“Heh, just the tip,” I said between closed teeth, Elder Gryff’s wand not giving me any leeway to move my jaw.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded with a voice that was boiling with barely restrained aggression. It was obvious he was searching for any excuse to blow my head clean off with a single spell.
So, me being me, I did the only thing I knew how to do well: stir the pot.
“I, ah, thought you could use some remodeling, Mike.”
The heat under my chin began to make an attempt at matching the record-setting temperature my hand had just been at moments prior, and I knew Michael Gryff was going to kill me.
Just as the spell was reaching the point of no return, I dropped into the fourth dimension and stumbled backward and away from the psychopath. Then again, there was a part of me that understood how rational a desire it was to want me dead. Teehee.
To my surprise, Elder Gryff began moving immediately, his wand orienting toward my heart. As he moved, there was a delay, as if there were ten of him moving in a perfectly choreographed routine.
It threw me off enough that I had to grunt, “Huh?” before the fight or flight part of my brain screamed to duck!
A ball of plasma zipped from the tip of his wand in my direction, and I briefly wondered if his attack would blow up the entire hospital, considering we were in the fourth dimension.
The power ball flew over my head as I pulled a Neo and bent over backward as fast as I could. But what The Matrix had gotten wrong was that it wasn’t cool to just, you know, dodge an entire magazine’s worth of bullets. The cool thing to do was fall flat on your back with an “Omph!” Yup. Totally on purpose.
The ball, which I was sure had enough energy to blow up an entire city block, halted in midair, right above where I had tactically evaded the spell.
“Um, shit?” was all I could get out as the power ball plunged down toward my center mass.
Someone screamed like a little girl, and it wasn’t me…I promise. Guys! I swearsies! It wasn’t me!
Anyhoo, after my masculine bellow…nothing happened.
Opening the eyes I had bravely slammed shut, I noticed my arms had instinctively moved to cover my face. Lowering them, I saw the ball of plasma was being contained within an index finger and thumb. It shook and rattled, trying to break free from a clasp that shouldn’t have been able to hold it.
“That’s enough, Michael,” Hecate ordered with complete finality.
She was standing above me, glaring daggers at Elder Gryff, who relaxed his battle stance with a “Harrumph.”
“Did you really just freaking say harrumph?” I laughed and pointed from my strategic place on the ground.
“John,” Hecate said flatly, never taking her eyes off the powerful Red Cloak.
“Right,” I quickly said, pantomiming zipping my mouth shut and throwing away the key.
The ball of plasma dispersed in a surprisingly small flash of light before sizzling out of existence.
Hecate waved her hand, and the three of us were shifted back to the third dimension where a very confused Isaac blinked rapidly while his eyes flicked from person to person. To his credit, he put the story together rather quickly with a silent, “Ah hah.”
Elder Gryff’s battle robes, which I hated to admit were freaking cool, curled upward and back, leaving behind his standard red cloak with the symbol of the Council at the center.
“Keep a leash on your dog, Hecate,” Elder Gryff demanded before making a show of turning about-face and storming off. As he did, and I shit you not, he puffed out the back of his cloak with his hands, as if a strong breeze had come out of nowhere.
“Is he for real?” I asked once Elder Gryff had turned down an adjacent hallway and was out of earshot. As I climbed to my feet, I elaborated, “I mean, did he just make his cape billow in the wind like Batman?”
“It was a show of disdain. For you…and for me,” Hecate explained, letting her words linger.
“Well, you know what you need to do when the guard dog attacks its owner,” I somberly said as both Hecate and I stared down the now empty hallway.
Isaac shifted uncomfortably where he stood, not wishing to partake in the conversation at hand.
“There are other ways,” Hecate finally responded.
Pulling her attention away from where Elder Gryff had openly defied the leader of the High Council, Hecate noticed the rather large hole in the wall.
I followed her gaze, took off my beanie, and ran my freshly healed hand through my hair, saying, “Yeah. I, uh, was trying to make a glory hole. But I might have overexaggerated my girth.”
As if the universe was a sentient entity with perfect comedic timing, a single brick broke loose from the top of the hole and clattered to the mess below.
“What happened?” Hecate asked as she turned to Isaac, the alarm still blaring. With a quick, annoyed wave of her hand, the red lights clicked off, and the regular LEDs came back to life as the wailing died down.
I was prepared to say how Isaac couldn’t know what happened because I didn’t even know…and I was there! But he spoke before I could.
“Jonathan shifted here, and his hand phased into the wall.”
“First of all,” I exclaimed with a finger raised up, “It’s just John. And second,” I held up another finger, “I…uh…did the what now?”
Hecate nodded her head in understanding and waved her hand through the air toward the giant hole.
Bricks, grout, and dust gently glided from where they rested on the ground and began stacking back into place as if the rewind button had been hit.
Through the sheer amazement I was feeling, I noticed that Hecate didn’t need a wand or to mutter any words to make the spell happen. Then again, this should probably be considered as unimpressive when compared to how she held the fourth-dimension plasma ball with her bare hands.
All I could do was let out a whistle of amazement. Only problem was, my lips were dry, and all that came out was a, “Fffffffft,” where a whistle should have been.
Licking my lips in agitation, I tried again with the same results.
“Ffffft.”
“Lilith damn it! That’s cool!” I finally said, not wanting to try—and fail at—whistling for a third time. I had a reputation to maintain…or-or-or some other excuse!
Moving on.
“Are you here to see Locke?” Hecate asked as the wall finished repairing itself.
“I guess so,” I replied as I replaced my beanie atop my head.
“Good. He is with Hayley.”
“Hayley?” I asked excitedly, not knowing how she was after the battle in Germany.
Turning to Hecate, I jumped in surprise as I saw the scene had changed and I was standing in a comfortable-looking hospital room. Hayley was sitting up in bed while Locke was seated close to her side. Both of them were staring at me in surprise before simultaneous smiles spread over their stupid faces.
“First time?” Hayley asked, somewhat weakly. An IV line ran to the back of her right hand.
“Freaking wizards, man,” I grumbled while snagging a metal chair next to me and intentionally dragging it over the tile to the side of the bed Locke was seated at.
Both wizards cringed at the high-pitched squealing of the chair’s metal feet.
“And now the tables have tide…ed. Tided. Bah! You know what I mean.”
“What did Father Thomes say?” Locke asked, instantly ruining my enjoyment at their torment.
At the question, I lifted the chair the last few feet and gently set it down before easing my behind on it, careful to give my coat plenty of wiggle room.
“Um…where do I begin?” I said aloud as I clapped my hands together and began anxiously rubbing them over one another.
“That bad?” Locke commented.
“What’s going on?” Hayley asked, apparently a little groggy from either the battle or whatever special juice they were pumping into her veins.
“The dynamic duo,” I grunted between clenched teeth, “suggested I go to Faerie.”
Locke nodded in understanding while Hayley asked, “Who?”
“The archangel, Gabriel, and Father Thomes Philseep,” I grumbled while leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest. The Fae silk squeaked like leather, and was music to my ears for a reason I couldn’t put to words.
“Go to Faerie instead of…?” Hayley pressed, waving her nontubed hand in a gesture that said come on already.
“Lily is in Hell,” Locke informed.
“Not. Only. That,” I said sharply, enunciating the words in extreme agitation with an emphasis on the t’s. “But it was them who freaking told her to go.”
“Wh…why would they do that?” Hayley inquired, looking back and forth between Locke and me.
“’Cause they’re dicks,” I exhaled, knowing the words were childish before they left my mouth, but uncaring enough to stop them from getting out.
“O…kay? Wanna elaborate on that, big guy?” Hayley asked.
Letting my arms unfold, I leaned forward in my seat, looked at the ground, and filled them in on the whole story; at least as far as I knew it. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was information that was intentionally being withheld by either the priest or the archangel.
After I finished, Locke and Hayley took several clicks of the analog clock on the wall to digest what I had said. Glancing up at it, I briefly wondered how time even worked down here, in the In-Between.
“So Lily is going to try and convince Ulric to turn on Satan? And…an-an-and she has to somehow make it his idea?” Locke stammered out loud, explaining the situation in his own words both for his own understanding and to make sure I didn’t misspeak.
“Dude! That girl’s got it!” Hayley told both men sitting by her bedside. “You know Lily, right? She’s smoother than silk and sexier than any supermodel. Not to mention smarter than both of you combined! If anyone can convince that man, it’s her.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, nodding at the thought of the woman I loved. “She’s convinced me to do some crazy stuff over the years.”
“I’m not just talking about in bed. Though I would totally do her,” Hayley said with a sly smile that was a challenging poke at me.
“What, you mean play a little rock paper scissors?” I half-heartedly joked. “I don’t think you could handle her.”
Hayley opened her mouth, the cogs smoothly turning in her mind, and I knew she was going to say something snarky about stealing my woman or something. But then I saw her train of thought derail, and Hayley’s face froze in place before the muscles began to move under her skin. Her brow furrowed as her bottom lip trembled, and her eyes flooded with a surge of tears.
I knew exactly where her mind had jumped the tracks.
Locke seemed to notice this as well, and both of us let our faces slowly slink toward the ground.
With nearly unintelligible words that barely squeezed around the lump of sorrow choking her throat, Hayley mouthed, “I miss him so much!” and broke down into loud sobs of anguish.
Even with my face already slumped toward the ground, I had to tilt it to the side and point my chin closer to the wall, as if only the top of my head were able to withstand the palpable pain in the air.
Not knowing what to do, and with my face still aimed as far away from Hayley as possible, I lifted an arm and used memory to rest my hand on top of hers. But where it had just been, only a warm indention remained.
Finally shifting my face so I could see my friend, I noticed she had both hands completely covering her face as she wailed. She was almost screaming, periodically shaking her head as if to wake herself up from her nightmare.
Locke stood up with an expression of helpless pain on his face and stepped in before bending forward and wrapping his arms around Hayley.
I mirrored his action by standing and walking to the other side of the bed where I hugged them both.
Then we cried, the three of us. All in remembrance of our friend, Ludvig.
I felt something gently tug at my waist, but paid it no mind. Right now, Hayley needed comforting, and I think we all needed the release that only sobbing could bring.
Crying is a uniquely human experience. I don’t mean that nonmortals are without the ability to cry. I simply mean it in the most poetic way possible. As Locke and I began our own sobbing while holding Hayley, hers seemed to diminish in intensity, as if we were transferring her pain into ourselves to share. Then the three of us stopped, all at once, and just held one another.
“This isn’t what I meant when I dreamed of being in bed with two guys at once,” Hayley joked through her sniffles.
Taking our cue, Locke and I pulled away while wiping our own tears and smiling at her dumb joke.
Locke pulled on his eyepatch, and a little stream of tears came pouring out and splashed on the bedsheets.
“Ew-hew-heeeewwww. Gross!” I teased while wiping a huge glob of snot from my nose and stealthily transferring it to the back of the raised bed where no one would notice.
“You both are disgusting,” Hayley said while daintily removing any signs of anguish from her face with her blanket.
Something crossed her face, and her features went slack while unfocused eyes stared at nothing at the foot of her bed.
“Hay…ley?” I asked hesitantly. I didn’t like how her face was beginning to scrunch into a mask of rage.
“Hayley, what is it?” Locke prompted, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“I want them dead…both of them, for what they did,” she growled with eyes filled to the brim with hate.
It took me a moment to understand who she meant. Then it hit me.
“Ulric and Samael…” I whispered with building dread. I turned from her bed and crossed my arms while bringing one of my thumbs up to my mouth. I chewed the nail as my mind played out scenario after scenario of Hayley battling either of the men…and dying.
There was only one thing I could do.
Turning to her bed, I uncrossed my arms and stared at her, waiting for her to make eye contact with me. When she finally did, I said, “I’ll help you. But first, we let Ulric kill his master or his master kill him—which, if I were a betting man, I would place my money on.”
“Bu-but for now,” Locke added, not liking the direction the conversation was taking, which would most likely lead to suicide by Devil. “We need to head to Faerie and save Magni before the biblical catastrophes begin on Earth.”
“Right,” I confirmed, nodding my head toward Locke in a gesture that secretly said thank you for changing the subject. He nodded back in understanding.
“Bring me back a T-shirt,” Hayley said flatly as she threw her blanket back from over her legs, scooted out of bed, and gingerly made her way to the bathroom with her IV stand rolling beside her.
Once the door was shut, Locke and I looked at one another before we heard the beginnings of muffled cries once more.
We took the hint and quickly left the room, leaving Hayley to attempt to mend her broken heart by sobbing an ocean of tears to drown in.
14
LILY
A gust of pungent, humid air hit Lily and Greg in the face, like stepping into an overcrowded commercial kitchen on a Saturday night.
Squinting eyes were shielded by hands cupped around them as the pair tried to adapt to the abrupt change in scenery.
