Watcher 4j6p25

Watcher

KARIANNE SILVA

Copyright © 2014 Karianne Silva.

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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

WestBow Press A Division of Thomas Nelson & Zondervan 1663 Liberty Drive Bloomington, IN 47403 www.westbowpress.com 1 (866) 928-1240

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby

disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

ISBN: 978-1-4908-3851-9 (sc) ISBN: 978-1-4908-3852-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014909424

WestBow Press rev. date: 06/26/2014

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Special Thanks

To the ones who always believed in me.

How could I have done this without you?

“For He will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.” Psalm 91:11 English Standard Version

Prologue

Some people are able to live their lives helping others – feeding the poor, building orphanages, helping homeless people. Many have high ambitions to reach the world. I had never given much thought to it previously, but at that moment I realized how selfishly I had lived. At age 16, I assumed I had the rest of my life to do those things but instead there I was, forever trapped in that cave. A captive never amounting to anything. I couldn’t even save those I love.

The shaking in my leg was getting worse, so I attempted to mentally prepare myself for the fall. I counted to three, pushed off the wall, and tried to land in a crouch to a roll. Of course, life seldom happens like we plan. I could not even land correctly. Instead of the perfect landing I had envisioned in my overlycreative mind, I landed with my right foot on the leg of the table, managing to roll my ankle. Either my crouch saved my left ankle, or the throbbing pain from my right side outweighed any issues with my left side.

As I rolled on the floor failing to minimize the ache with pressure, I thought of my dad and Tim. They would not recover if I did not get out of this. It had been all of us together that had enabled us to make it through my mom leaving. I knew with every fiber of my being that being held captive for life was not an option if I wanted my dad and brother to go on with their lives. They would spend eternity chasing me, selling their souls to the devil if they believed it would get me out.

Millions of people live in pain daily. Around the world, people in agony are dying every minute. Children die with hunger pains. I had never known such excruciating suffering prior to that fall. My veins felt like a tangled mess of rattlesnake poison, spreading rapidly from my ankle until my whole body was a dull throb of misery. Above all was the emotional pain of failure. I could not

move, therefore I could not rearrange the pile of furniture. Sariel would know I was trying to get higher and would search me for a tracker of some sort. Without a doubt, I knew he’d skin me alive to eliminate the threat to his happily ever after. It was over. I had just ruined my only chance at helping my dad find me.

After about five minutes, I could no longer even sulk due to the increasing anguish. Sariel would not be back yet for approximately another twenty minutes, so I was on my own. Feeling my bones rub together when trying to push myself up, I collapsed and finally – as the pain washed over me – I blacked out.

Chapter 1

“When dealing with the insane, the best method is to pretend to be sane.” ~Hermann Hesse~

Wake up. Wake up! WAKE UP! NOW, CODA, WAKE UP! I sat up stick straight in my bed, waiting for my heart to drop below the 200 beats per minute mark. Not that I could move even had I wanted to do something different, but it was still an uncomfortable sensation. While waiting, I glanced at the calendar above my desk. April 24th. Three months, one week, two days since it had begun. By this point, it was routine to wake up after a couple hours of sleep.

Growing up, I was never one to my dreams. Not as in, they’re hazy and brief glimpses; I just never ed anything at all. I went to bed and then woke up. Nothing in between. That all changed on January 15th. I have no idea why or what happened, but after that date I woke up every night with the same nightmare. Sometimes multiple times if I tried to go back to sleep. I don’t think it’s the type of nightmare that other people have had either. At least, it’s not similar to any book or movie I’ve read or seen or even heard about for that matter.

My nightmare went as such: I’m walking in pitch-blackness. This light-defying darkness is the type where I can’t see my hand a centimeter in front of my face. I trip over something, but when I look back to see the obstacle, all I see are these big green eyes in the darkness. It’s like they are warning me to keep going. “Never look back and never stop running,” they seem to say to me. Those eyes fill me with such a dread I can’t even explain. They cause my heart to clench and my lungs become unable to fill with air. It’s at that point that I would hoist myself out of unconsciousness – if that were what you can call a dream-state. Night after night the same succession occurs.

4:35 a.m.

Another thing that had changed in the previous three-plus months was my appearance. I had grown constant plum bruises under my eyes and had lost fifteen pounds, which I did not have to spare to begin with, due to the fact that I

no longer slept. Were I to fall back asleep, the nightmare would skip through my brain, over and over, like the broken record it was. I no longer tried to get back to bed and was content with the couple hours of sleep that I got.

I lay back and was immediately encaged in fresh lilac-scented goodness. Knowing I loved it, my dad made sure to use it every time he washed my sheets. Against my beloved feather pillow, I fruitlessly wondered again what had changed. My doctors – yes, my father had brought in trained medical help – thought that it was part stress and part remnants left from “un-dealt-with childhood issues.” Come on, everyone has childhood issues, and very few have dealt with them by their sophomore year of high school!

Nothing else had changed in my daily living. I hadn’t all of a sudden gone through puberty, nor had I met my soul mate. I had not changed towns or schools or anything since I was five years old! Knowing I would not fall back asleep, I decided to saunter to the bathroom and begin my day. There is nothing that a nice bubble bath and scented candles cannot fix. Well, ok, there are a lot of things that they can’t fix, but at five in the morning, nothing else could be better.

Quietly I walked across the hallway to the bathroom. Turning on the light, I instantaneously shied away from my reflection. I already knew I looked like a walking corpse. Sunken cheeks, gawking black eyes returning my stare where once vibrant blue shone bright. Even my wonderful hair looked dull, as if the lack of sleep had somehow stripped the sunshine from its golden strands. It was my only redeeming quality and, because of the horrible nightmares, even that was being taken from me. I no longer recognized my reflection.

By 6 a.m. I was bathed, dressed, had triple checked all of my homework (a benefit of going to bed at two and waking up only a mere two and a half hours later) and was eating a nice bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

“TIM! If you are not up in three minutes, I will leave you to take the bus.” Technically, since my brother was older, our 15-year old, well-loved Honda Accord was still his until he left for college, but I could always threaten.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

“Morning, Dad.”

The smile that met mine melted my heart. My father. Even though he was left by his wife, our mother, when I was five, he never let a day without flashing his award-winning smile. My father is over six feet tall and looks like a Greek god. This isn’t in the weird, Freudian sense either. He just is good-looking. I should know; I did not inherit any of it besides the hair. Tim took all of the looks and I got the leftovers – pouty lips, normal blue eyes, blonde hair, and a nose too big for my face.

“Are you going to come in to work after school today?” He used to ask me how I slept and all the other common, routine morning questions found at any breakfast table. Not anymore. We try to stay away from the sleep (or lack thereof) topic as much as possible since it only added stress to our otherwise completely stress-free relationship. The three of us had always been close. Tim and I went at it every once in a while, but we never had a fight that lasted more than a day.

“Uhh, yeah. If that’s ok. I need the money.”

“Work” was just through the front of our house, at the used bookstore that my dad owned. Typically it involved running the cash or restocking and

shelving books.

Another smile to make my troubles disappear followed my reply. It was as if I had made his day by wanting to him in the bookstore. “Of course, Coda. I love it when you’re there! Besides, we’re finally at the end of this season and I’m running out of almost everything. I could use the help with restocking.” My dad never failed to provide for our family, often putting in long hours to do so. During childhood there were many nights we’d him in his office to eat supper, enabling him to stay open a little longer. He wouldn’t have imagined us eating alone in the same way as he never dreamt of remarrying. Instead it was always the three of us. My dad always claimed he gave my brother and me all the love that was in his heart. I ired my dad for that and he knew it.

“TIM!” I knew that yelling wouldn’t make a difference, but it was still fun. Tim only did what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it. In Tim’s book family came first, so I was ok with him doing what he wanted.

“What? Geez, Coda, if you could make any more noise, you’d take out the town by an avalanche! What’s wrong with you?”

Tim, for all his love and loyalty, had never been a morning person. Neither am I for that matter. The problem goes away quickly when one has been up for over two hours and has already had a bubble bath. Grabbing the Pop Tart that shot out of the toaster, Tim walked out the door. Apparently he had already put his shoes on in his room. With the days warming into the high 50’s and, every once in a while, even the low 60’s, he hadn’t even bothered with a jacket. He must be coming home after school because there’s no way he wouldn’t need a jacket later on this evening.

“Well, I guess that’s my cue. Love you, dad!”

Chapter 2

“I live in my own little world. But its ok, they know me here.” ~Lauren Myracle~

The brisk pine-scented breeze slapped me as soon as I left the bookstore and walked out on the front porch. In a month, we’d be able to put up our ever-socomfortable Brazilian hammock. None of those uncomfortable netted hammocks for the Irin family! For now, at least we had the chairs back out. Even with winter coming to a close, I was glad I had taken the time to throw on my jacket. Tim must have frozen!

Encomed by the Rocky Mountains, Stanton was just a narrow valley. Built in the late 1800s, it was originally a mining town. Like most other towns of this area, when the mines dried up, it switched to tourism. The updated redbrick road guides one down our main drag, (ever so cleverly named “Main Street”) which is the only one in town with stores. The couple of side roads that leave Main Street turn into dirt tracks beyond the first few feet. I guess they got tired of replacing cracked pavement after every winter. These side streets lead to a few charming houses and to our schools. Only Main Street actually remains paved all the way to civilization. The other end leaves town and becomes gravel on its way up Red Mountain.

I loved this place. Even when the skiing season is in its final stages, and the streets are crowded with gawking tourists, I still love it. There is nothing like living in the mountains. Some don’t like mountains because it makes them feel small and insignificant. That is exactly why I cannot live without them. Looking over my shoulder, I’m always speechless at the magnitude of what looks back at me. I liked knowing that there is something bigger than me out there. With how confused and scared I had been feeling, I ached to know that someone or something was looking down at me and had some sort of plan amidst the craziness that had become my life. Still, at other times, I am no longer sure I share the sentiment that the former me had.

Tucking my jacket in a little closer, I made a dash for the car. Dad splurged last Christmas and got Tim and me a remote starter, so the windows were already clear and the car was warmly waiting. A light dusting of snow had fallen over the night, but it would be gone as soon as the sun breached the eastern ridge.

“Do we have to get Anthony? Because if we do, we’re going to be late you know.” I shot Tim an accusatory glance that held no merit. I am in no way a perfect student. It was not that I was a bad student; I just didn’t care enough. I probably could pull a 4.0 if all I did was study, but really, who does that? I brought in A’s and B’s and did my homework, but I also took and still continue to take advantage of my “sick” days, which were usually spent on the slopes or in the back of the bookstore with a good new release.

“Anthony drove himself.” Tim looked strangely focused on the road while saying this. I understood that to mean it was a closed subject, so I left it. Anthony and Tim were best friends. The Johnsons live across the street from us, and seven year-old Anthony had made it a point to come over before we had even gotten out of the moving van. The two had been inseparable for the eleven years since. I wasn’t worried about it. Most likely, Anthony had been cheering for some team that Tim was against. They’d make up by lunch.

I noticed belatedly we had turned into school. Why we had to go to school was beyond me. Learning out of a book was simpler by far, and I learned more at home anyway. Besides, we had to go for five days of school and then only got two off. What kind of system is that? I’ve heard we have it easier here, as we have a month off for winter break and then another two weeks in the end of March (I guess other people only have a week break in the spring), but still we make up for it. We only have two months off in the summer!

“Ow! Watch it!” That was all I had caught of the artificially platinum blonde’s rebuke followed by some four-lettered words that a pretty mouth really had no right to be saying.

“Oops. Sorry,” I automatically replied.

Arguing for my rights within my head was dangerous! I had ended up walking face first into Breah Thomas. Breah was our “Ms. Perfect.” Perfect face, perfect body, perfect boyfriend, perfect friends, perfect family, pretty much perfect everything. She is a “popular girl,” though I would still dispute that no one could be unpopular in a class of only 48 students. Because of her popularity, she thinks it gives her the rights to treat the rest of us like scum. Her father owns half the town, so somehow because of this she is automatically the queen bee of the high school as well. I really didn’t care. It would take far too much work to be the queen bee.

She, however, is not as “perfect” as she’d like to think. And this is besides her obviously-fake hair color. I smiled a knowing smile to her as I walked quickly away. She knew better than to start anything with me. Last summer, while her “perfect” boyfriend was traveling in Europe, I saw her hooking up with a perfect stranger. Then, I saw her and the stranger continue on to steal some trinkets off Mrs. Jeffers’ art fair booth. She knows I saw her and that I happened to have a few nice pictures as evidence. I have them on my phone, computer, and on a disk drive which is hidden in an undisclosed location. Someday, I will need those pictures.

“Finally!” A vampire-white arm grabbed mine and dragged me into the nearest bathroom, her multi-colored claws barely refraining from drawing blood.

“I didn’t realize I needed to go,” I laughed as my best friend looked exasperatedly at me.

“Not funny, Coda Irin! You know how important today is, and you can’t make it to school an extra five minutes early to calm my nerves?” Her one hand was still clutching my arm, but her other fingers noisily drummed the sink. A pitter-patter of rain crashing again and again on a porcelain roof.

“Ash, you’ll make the part. You always do. Today’s tryouts are not any different then the previous million that you’ve gone to. And may I remind you, that you landed the lead roles in all of them. Not half, not one, ALL.” Pulling her hand away from the sink, I held on until the tension of her other dropped from my arm. The tardy bell had already rung, so I tugged her out the exit and towards our lockers.

Ashley was a drama queen. Literally. The girl could act like no other. I ed all the plays but only to be backstage and do the fun things like painting the set and running the lights. None of the front and center stuff for me. Besides, if I weren’t “in” the plays, I would never see Ashley.

“I still could have used the hug and reassurance.” I recognized her quick response for what it was – avoidance. Knowing it would push her away if I tried to address her nerves, I gave her what she wanted. Sarcasm.

“I had to ride with Tim to school. You know my brother. My extremely morninghating brother? You have met him before, right?”

That earned me the small smile I had been hoping for. “I know. I just can’t ever calm down without you around. It’s like you give off this peaceful vibe that no one else has. That and I always look better when standing near you. You know, beautiful by association?” She quickly kept going to avoid the argument she knew I was preparing. “Please, please, puhleease just come to the AV room with me? I’ll buy you a Nutty Bar at lunch!”

Her chestnut eyes visible only through a curtain of bangs swooped to the side. The rest of her unruly light curls framed cheeks pink from the brisk wind. I

never understood her lack of confidence, when every tryout had landed her with lead roles. She was the best.

“Oh, alright. Let me first put my books away at least. I don’t want to look like a nerd in front of Mr. Donahue.” There were very few times I’d said “no” to Ashley. She was my Anthony. After putting in my combination and a quick punch to the already dented blue door, my locker sprung to life. “How is he, anyway?”

“Who?”

Of course, her mind was locked on the Sound of Music. I knew I wouldn’t be getting a good conversation out of her all day. “Never mind. Let’s go.” I’d find out about Mr. D. soon enough. I quickly followed the brief glimpse of corduroy pants, rounding the corner Ashley had already disappeared behind. That girl could move when on a mission.

The way to class was met with the normal smiles, scowls, and plain old ignoring looks from our fellow classmates. All of us had gone to school together our whole lives. Even I, having moved when I was five, only missed the first month of kindergarten. You would think that after eleven years of class together some might have broken their unfriendly shells, but no. It was still basically Ashley and me against Stanton Valley High School. Or, at least it was still the two of us against the sophomore class.

When we moved to Stanton, there were rumors that had flown ahead of us. I never understood how, but by the time we got there everyone had labeled us as that “unfortunate single-parent family,” or as “that family whose mom ran off,” or, even worse, as “the family that was so bad their mom left.” The latter one was the source of many post-kindergarten-day tears. It was always Tim who

would rock me in his lap (even though most seven year old boys still fully believe in cooties) and tell me how untrue it was. My father would then tell us a tale of an angel who got called up to heaven and had to leave her heart behind because it hurt too much to take it along. She hadn’t wanted to leave but, because she loved her little angels and needed them to be safe, she left. It was those fairy tales that got me through my childhood waterworks.

Chapter 3

“Civilised life, you know, is based on a huge number of illusions in which we all collaborate willingly. The trouble is we forget after a while that they are illusions and we are deeply shocked when reality is torn down around us.” ~J.G. Ballard~

“Ms. Montgomery, Ms. Irin, you’re cutting it a little close.” Ashley looked abashedly at the floor while I shrugged and walked over to my favorite teacher. Mr. Donahue was my hero. He taught drama as well as our sophomore and junior English classes and was full of life. He was pushing eighty years old and hunched over. His typical plaid shirt was tucked tightly into his polyester dress pants that were pulled up to just under where once would have been pecs. After completing school with some of our grandparents, he had gone on to instruct parents and now our generation. Loving what he did, he worked ionately as if he were freshly out of college. He hadn’t even looked up when we entered. It was as if he had taught in this room for so long, he had grown an affinity with it and could tell who entered and when.

“Good morning, Mr. D. How was your weekend?”

“Good, good.” Distracted wouldn’t even begin to cover his demeanor.

I grabbed the clipboard next to him and quickly left to take my seat by Ash, carefully stepping over her Converse to make it through the tight rows. As I was looking at the class attendance list, the final bell rang. Not to my surprise, everyone was already there, bouncing eagerly in his or her seat. It was always like this on try-out days. I expected it. And since I was the only one in drama class that did not like to act, that made my job of taking attendance much easier.

“Mr. D.” Approaching him in the early stages of madness could be a or fail, so I decided to just rip the Band-Aid off and go for it. “What would it be like if we pushed the performance up a week earlier? I checked with the office and there are no other obstacles on the calendar. It’s just that we’re scheduled for mid-May and the rapids open the beginning of May.”

As soon as the glare turned its way to me, I had to think of another tactic. “You know, I was just thinking that everyone else will be working, and we’d have such low numbers in the audience. It seems silly to put forth all of this effort and not even have a crowd or bring in any revenue.”

I could see the wheels turning, so I left him at that and took my seat again. The rest of the period ed quickly. For the next three periods, I had to listen to a constant batter of what would happen if Ashley did not make the part of Maria. More than once I nearly blew up, but I held my tongue knowing how much she wanted this. Believe me, I had been forced to sit through “The Hills Are Alive” more times than any human could bear. I finally got her to stop talking about it by singing Santana’s “Maria, Maria” every time she said the name Maria. It only took three times for her to get the point.

The student body at SVHS is split into A and B. All the A’s have the same classes and lunch. Same goes with the B’s. I guess it’s just the school’s way of categorizing us into popular and unpopular from the beginning of middle school. I’m sure that Breah’s father (who is on the school board) set ours up exactly how his perfect daughter wanted. That was OK with me though, as all of my friends were in B. Also, my brother was in B. This was kind of ironic because he was student president, the football quarterback, and the captain of the ski team, but, hey, who would have predicted that when he was beginning middle school.

The rest of the morning was routine. As Ashley and I were finally sitting down with our lunch trays, I was able to let go of a bit of the tension that had been building since waking that morning. Of course, my other half caught the sigh.

“What’s wrong with you anyway?” I sunk a bit under Ashley’s penetrating stare. She could read me like a book.

“Nothing, I’m just not sleeping much.”

“Coda, nice try. You haven’t been sleeping for months. What makes today different?” Turning towards her tray, she demolished half the pizza with one bite.

“How can you eat that?”

“Really? Well, first let me say that you didn’t answer my question and we’ll get back to it. Second, you do realize that those pizza sticks are really just this rolled up?” She emphasized her point by kissing the end of my lovely pizza stick with her greasy slice.

“Are not. This is a breadstick with a bit of sauce and cheese inside.” I hurriedly shoved a bite in my mouth to avoid the offending grease machine coming back for a second smooch.

“Ok. Now that you’re talking again, what’s going on today?”

“Ash.”

Nibbling a smaller bite this time, she wouldn’t break eye .

“Fine.” Sighing again, I tried to rearrange the thoughts and words in my head to form coherent, intelligent phrases. “I’m just feeling antsy. Like something is going to happen but hasn’t yet. It sounds stupid, but I feel like I should be aware

of whatever it is and ready to fight. And I am feeling unprepared because I don’t even know what it is!”

“You do realize that you’re 16 and in high school, right?”

“ASH! What does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re a body full of hormones. Of course you feel underprepared! Welcome to my world. You’ve just gotten off the hook so far because you’re gorgeous, very protected, and loved. The rest of us have felt antsy since fifth grade.”

“You are too! And I don’t think this is hormones.” Ashley had a way of making everything seem normal. Usually it made me feel better when she used her “it happens to everyone” argument, but at that point it was just frustrating me. “It is not normal to get only a few hours of sleep a night and to wake up with the same ridiculous nightmare.”

She read right through my whisper and into my insecurities buried deep within. “Babe, you’re going to be ok. Aren’t those drugs the latest shrink prescribed working?”

Avoiding her gaze I looked out the balcony windows to Red Mountain. It wasn’t the biggest hill around, but it was my favorite. I loved to go hiking and camping up there.

Built like a ski lodge, the large pine deck of our cafeteria stretched out with a wonderful view of my mountain. It was built like this because of the tourism industry and how they wanted our town to look. I guess that tourists do not want to believe that our resort town would have something as common as a high school. This time of the year the snowcap was quickly disappearing, quietly inviting me to come play in its many over-flowing streams.

Looking at Red Mountain usually calmed my fears. There were too many good memories attached to it to be upset about life. Not this time. There was something off, something different. It was almost as if it was too bright or too infocus. Something was causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on high alert. As I scanned the horizon, a pair of green eyes caught in my peripheral vision.

The world stopped. I knew those eyes. I had been seeing them in my nightmares for the past three months and, now, here they were, just outside of my high school. In the brief millisecond it took me to turn my head for a second glance, there was nothing there. It’s possible you imagined it. Even though the pragmatic voice in my head brought me back to reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“Coda, hello? Earth to stupid.” A slap across the back of my head brought me back to reality. Of course, my brother always had the nicest things to say to his little sister in the middle of the cafeteria.

“Sorry. Oh, hey, Tim. What do you need?”

My brother may be a jock, but he’s not stupid. He may have not known me in the girly, best friend sense that Ashley did, but he knew me just as well, if not better. Just one look at me was all it took. “What is it?” he asked, ready for a fight. “Is it

Breah again? I swear, if she were a guy, I would have his face permanently imprinted in my fist.”

As much as I liked the visual, I couldn’t throw Breah under the bus on this. She did enough to throw herself under the bus and, for once, it wasn’t her. “No, it’s…” What could I tell him? Not only was I having terrifying nightmares that would wake our entire family up with my screaming, but I had begun hallucinating as well? “It’s nothing. I’m ok. I guess I’m just zoning out. I’m starving.” Emphasizing my point I practically choked over my last bite.

I could tell he didn’t buy it but wasn’t going to press here. “All right, well, I just needed some money. I used mine and was wondering if I could borrow some.” I swallowed a sigh as he tossed the change I gave him up in the air, and smoothly caught it before turning away.

Any other day I would have berated him about spending his on no doubt, nothing good, and then sent him on his way with empty pockets. Any other day, but not after what I just saw. I didn’t have the fight in me. My bones had turned to Jell-O, so I just handed him a $5 in addition to the change, and told him I’d see him after school. Without words, he squeezed my shoulder protectively as he threw a concerned look my way before walking away.

Nothing more happened during lunch, and my blood pressure was back to normal by afternoon classes. As the week ed without any further green eye sightings, I completely talked myself into believing it was a product of my overactive and extremely stressed imagination. Days went on as normal. Well, as normal as one’s day can be with three hours or less of sleep a night.

The days went as such: wake up screaming – take a bubble bath – redo homework – school – work – play rehearsal – homework – couple hours sleep –

wake up screaming again. Rinse and repeat. Were it not that my eyelids automatically fell when I had any down time and the fact that I was becoming immune to the affects of caffeine, I could get used to this routine. At least I could know what to expect.

The final bell rang announcing the end of another school week while I was emptying all my schoolbooks from my locker. You would think that I liked studying, but, in actuality, I just did not like sleeping. Thinking about what additional homework I could keep my self busy with left me ignoring my surroundings. Unfortunately, this was the moment he decided to sneak up behind me. I felt his warm breath on my ear at the exact moment his hands hit my hips. Without thinking, I spun and was about to send him sprawling down the hallway. I stopped myself with my hand on Anthony’s chest, barely in time.

“Relax, Beautiful. It’s me.” He never let go of me. He had this annoying habit of touching. It must be from a hidden romantic side or something.

“Geez, Anthony, ya know I could have really hurt you. What do you think you’re doing anyway?” I relaxed into his protective, brotherly grasp.

My dad, for as quiet and ive as he is, had insisted on enlisting us in self defense classes since arriving in Stanton. The sheriff’s department gives one course a year, and we had been to every one for the past eleven years. It is to the point that they no longer will accept payment, and Tim and I practically teach the class.

“I was just wondering how you were doing. And besides, it was supposed to be funny.” The last part was added under his breath, and I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear it or not. Pulling a baseball out of his windbreaker, he began fiddling with it.

“Well, it obviously wasn’t funny,” I responded edgily as I stilled the ball in his hand. “Be careful; if this new kid was not here, I would have grabbed you and thrown you into his locker, effectively poking out both of your eyes in one smooth movement.”

Out of mock hurt over my joke, he finally let go of my waist. “Oh, you know you love me,” Anthony purred as he completely byed me, closed, and leaned against my locker. It was hard to stay mad at Anthony. He has this ability to bring a smile to my face at anytime. Even when he had just shut my extremely difficult-to-open locker. I jumped at the thud of the baseball hitting a locker, before it once again found Anthony’s hands. What a jock!

“Not in your wildest dreams.” Exasperated, I once again stilled his hands. “Will you quit that!”

“How else am I going to get you to hold my hand?” Rolling my eyes, I dropped my hand from his like it was on fire.

Anthony was by far the cutest guy at school. His baby blue eyes and gingerbread highlighted dirty blond hair had all of the girls crushing. He has high cheekbones and somehow manages to sport a light 3 o’clock shadow that gives him a toughboy look as well. He makes it work. It was too bad he was like a second brother to me. Well, since he wasn’t remotely interested in me like that, I guess it was a good thing. We worked as the surrogate siblings we were. Anything else would have just been weird. His pseudo-flirting was a bit over the edge, though.

Pulling my attention back to the reason I wanted to talk to Anthony, I turned to him. “Anyway, I was going to ask what you and Tim have planned for this

weekend. I wanted to go up to Hunter Creek and hike.”

“No can do, Kiddo. We’re hitting the slopes. It’s closing weekend.” He actually looked bummed about this, so I didn’t give him the additional hard time I was planning on giving.

“Oh, no problem. Maybe I’ll get Ashley to go.” He rolled his eyes but didn’t say any more. We both knew that would never happen. Ashley hadn’t been on a trail in over four years.

Even though she was extremely beautiful in my eyes (and to anyone who knew her at all), Ashley had a little weight problem. She didn’t care though and wasn’t about to “submit to the lifestyle those glamour girls have.” In other words, Ashley liked theater too much to give it up and start exercising and watching what she ate. Even that, in it’s own way, made her more gorgeous. She loved who she was, even though she only made the mile in gym class because our grade depended on it.

“Well, gotta go. Hang in there, girl.” And with that, he was lost in the crowd of departing students, leaving me looking after him.

“I would have let you.” The deep voice scared me so badly that I smacked my head on the locker. Typical, Coda – not only are you not ready for defense, but you’re making yourself look stupid as well.

“Excuse me?” I couldn’t believe it – the new kid, Jeremiah! His locker had been next to mine for two months, and he had never even uttered a word to me. In the beginning I tried to be nice and say “good morning” and “hi” in-between classes,

but never got a response. In fact, my good manners were flat-out ignored. Because he had that Italian dark hair and bronzed skin that definitely wasn’t from Colorado, I ended up telling myself that he was an international and couldn’t speak English. At least it helped me avoid feeling snubbed by a complete stranger.

“I would have moved to let you slam your boyfriend into my locker.” Ok, definitely unexpected. He was not only clearly and fluently speaking English, but we went from never talking to slightly joking; this day just kept getting weirder. I tried to place his slight accent but gave up. It seemed eastern European with some vowels sounding more like Shakespearean English.

Wait, what? “My boyfriend?”

“Yes. That boy who was touching you. He is your boyfriend, right?”

“Anthony? No. Anthony is definitely not my boyfriend. He’s like a brother to me. My brother’s best friend. Nothing more.” I wasn’t sure why I suddenly felt so vehemently about defending my single status and decided to cut myself off before I kept babbling.

It was then that he looked up at me. Underneath his just-longer-than-needing-ahaircut, ebony locks were the deepest blue eyes I had ever seen. Mesmerized, I stood there staring. A part of my brain knew that it was rude and that he was waiting for me to say something, but, for the life of me, I couldn’t even what that something was.

“Wait, you are talking to me, right?” I realized then that he could have been

talking to someone behind me and I would have effectively embarrassed myself further. Casually glancing over my shoulder, I saw the hallway was almost completely empty.

“Yes. Sorry, I wasn’t meaning to be rude and listen in on your conversation. It’s just that you mentioned me being here, and it caught my attention.”

“No, that’s fine. It’s just, I don’t know…” How about sorry for being rude by ignoring me for the last two months? I stopped myself before rambling further than I could backpedal. And why can I not look away from your bottomless eyes? Are there black and gold speckles in them as well? I vowed to figure that out sometime when he wasn’t looking back at me, noticing how strange I was acting. “Sorry. It’s just that I tried to talk to you for almost a month with not even a ‘hi’ or a smile in reply, and now you’re talking as if nothing happened.”

I wanted to tell him off and walk away. If he had done something like that to Ashley, or even Tim or Anthony for that matter, I totally would have. I am much more forgiving when it is me being wronged. Unfortunately also, for some random reason, I couldn’t tear myself away from the unknown who stood in front of me.

“I know,” he looked genuinely contrite. “I wasn’t allowed to talk to you. Well, see you Monday.” And with that, he shut his locker and left. For the second time in less than five minutes, I was left gazing at a boy’s back retreating down the hallway.

“What on earth just happened?” Of course, by then I was the last soul standing in an empty hallway and very clearly, talking to myself.

Chapter 4

“The chief beauty about time is that you cannot waste it in advance. The next year, the next day, the next hour are lying ready for you, as perfect, as unspoiled, as if you had never wasted or misapplied a single moment in all your life. You can turn over a new leaf every hour if you choose.” ~Arnold Bennett~

“Wait, who said what?” Fifteen minutes after our conversation started and Ashley was as bewildered as I was. I could hear her begin to pace her room. She was like that, needing to move to think.

“The new kid, Ash, the new kid said he wasn’t allowed to talk to me. What on earth does that mean? And how is Jeremiah his name? It definitely feels too American. Too normal.” I hadn’t told her about his eyes or how I lost myself when looking in them. I didn’t know why not. I mean, I told Ashley everything. It just seemed too unlike me, too petty of me to be spellbound by a good-looking guy. It felt like it happened to someone else. I mean, come on, down to earth, Coda, falling for someone because of his eyes?? Not that I was falling or anything. Oh, you fell. The annoying little voice in my head was quickly getting old.

“Yeah, really. What does that mean? And why is he talking to you now? Wait, didn’t you say you were talking with Anthony? What if he likes you and was so jealous he broke the rules and began talking to you?”

Of course, Ashley could find a love story in the midst of anything. Romantic to the core. But the truth was, I hadn’t even thought about why he now began talking. If he wasn’t allowed to talk to me, what changed to allow him? Or was he going against the “rules?” And what kind of person would put up with not being allowed to talk to a person? Immediately my wild imagination went to how Breah may be involved in this.

“I don’t have any idea. I hadn’t even thought of why he now is speaking; I was so hung up on the fact that he wasn’t allowed to before.” That, and his eyes, but I definitely didn’t add that part in.

“I bet Breah has something to do with this. It has her stink all over it. I bet her dad has some type of hold on him. Maybe if he is a foreign exchange student, her dad sponsored him to come over or something and forbade him from talking to you.” She was thinking along the same lines as I had been.

The next hour was spent going back and forth with ideas, but in reality, we knew nothing.

“Hey, Coda, I’m falling asleep here.” She was right; it was 1:30 in the morning.

“Ash, will you do me a huge favor?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Her sleepy response was all I needed. The only way I could trick her into this was if she was half asleep and I could hold her to her word.

“Come up Hunter Creek with me tomorrow?”

“Coda, I’m tired but I’m not that out of it yet. You know there’s no way I could do that trail. Besides, I need to go over my lines.” I gave up. It had taken all the courage I had in me to ask her, knowing in full reality that she was going to turn me down. Knowing that she couldn’t physically do it didn’t stop the hurt in my chest when she once again turned down something that meant a lot to me.

“Ok, no problem. Talk to you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“’Kay, night Coda.”

With that, the first of our many brainstorming sessions about the mysterious new kid ended.

The rest of the weekend I found myself in the store. I was fine with that though. I wanted the bucks to spend over the summer and it was relaxing. Ashley came over Saturday night and we watched The Wedding Singer, laughing before all the funny parts came on and reciting all of the lines. Having seen that movie at least a thousand times before, we were free to discuss the new kid while watching.

“Let’s call him ‘Bob.’ At least until he decides to introduce himself. I can’t see him as a Jeremiah.”

“Ok, I think you should just go up to ‘Bob’ on Monday morning, slap him and walk away. End of story.”

It was late enough that we were giggling at practically everything. That comment had me rolling. “Ash, like I would ever do that! And, really, who are you to talk?”

“I know, you’re far too sweet. Only if you thought you were sticking up for the underdog would you do that. But, really, you HAVE to say something. It’s just not right.” To her credit, she did try for a straight face.

I grabbed some popcorn and threw it at her. Even though it was true, I wondered why I never considered myself the underdog and stood up for myself. Knowing my brother, if he found out about any of this, there’d be a “meeting” in the parking lot that same day. The poor kid would find out about older, protective brothers. Maybe that’s why I didn’t have any friends.

“Coda? What if he really likes you, and you guys will fall madly in love and live happily ever after? I mean, you both are absolutely beautiful and would really be doing the human race a favor by having kids.” More popcorn hit her forehead causing her to stick her tongue out at me. “See? Billy Idol gets it. I don’t know why she doesn’t get it.”

“Really, Ash? You’re going to drag movie quotes into this one?”

Laughing she just shrugged. “Hey, it was the perfect timing!” Shrugging on her coat, she walked out the door.

Stanton was small enough to be completely safe, even at midnight. Even knowing this, we always walked back and forth with our finger on the speed dial for the other person, so, if something happened, we could call immediately. The other restriction was that we would call to say we were home safely. Our parents had put the rules into effect when we first walked home at night at eight years old. For some reason, the rules still stuck. Old habits and all that. Ashley called five minutes later, complaining about the cold and saying she was home.

Sunday morning I went to church with my family, and, since the store is closed on Sundays, I snuggled out on the front porch afterwards with Jane Eyre. Of course, I’d read it a million times, but I adored the story! I had found a cool old copy in one of our donated boxes that was published in 1892 and was dying to read it while taking in its old fragrance. Even though I have been called weird

many a time, I still think that the smell of old books is my favorite. There’s just nothing like the woody tang, mixed with must, that, like an old friend, greets you upon entering any old bookstore.

My dad is a firm believer that if people visualize other people sitting and reading in front of a bookstore, they are more likely to come in. Sometimes, when the store is empty of customers, he will send me out to the porch and I get paid to read. Tim is forever throwing a fit over it but my dad ends his complaining, saying “You are more than welcome to do the same.” Tim hates to read so much he won’t even read for money.

My gaze soon left the porch, trailing Main Street through town. One did not need perfect vision to see to the end of town. We joked that you can take a breath and miss it. We do not have any stoplights or even stop signs on Main Street. I sometimes liked to walk through and make up stories of all the people who once lived their lives here. Finding the best part of town, I inspected the church. It was one of the first structures in Stanton, coupled with its quaint, neighboring cemetery. Last summer, a group of us took a week to sand and repaint it, from the lowest windowpanes up to the steeple with the still-functioning, original bell. It’s a good thing most of it was brick, because, as only a few of us showed up, it would have taken all summer otherwise!

Stanton was built like any other picturesque Colorado town that caters to tourists. All the red brick storefronts, each with its own quaint awning above its second story window, stare at each other across Main Street. Town hall has four towering pillars along front, from the ground to the top of its second story. Nothing changes in town. Besides an awning color (needing to be approved by the township) or a refurbishing of a building, nothing ever looks different. One can look at pictures in Town Hall taken in the 1800s, early 1900s, and the mid1900s, and, besides the color of the photograph, (or painting in some cases) they would look the same.

The surrounding mountains change in regards to the seasons only. Layered in the horizon from lush and green, to a reddish tint, to white-capped. In the summer, the white cap completely disappears. Our Red Mountain isn’t the most grandiose one in Northern Colorado. Most people would not even know of its existence. Its anonymity is what draws me to it. If a star is shining but is surrounded by other stars shining brighter, one never even acknowledges that the original star is shining. That’s how it is with Red Mountain, with well over 100 higher peaks in Colorado alone. It doesn’t matter that it is higher than the highest point of 37 states in the U.S. Not even reaching the tree line, it is all-but-invisible to any but those who live here.

Towards the south, you can almost imagine the craziness of Aspen. Ski resorts, tourists galore – I don’t even like going to Aspen and only go when absolutely necessary. To me, skiing is not important enough to fight the crowds. My brother, lives and breathes skiing and therefore fights the crowds every weekend with Anthony.

While gazing at the mountains beyond my personal confines of Stanton, I almost became resentful. I just wanted to be out there. I didn’t want to sit and read, but I knew it is stupid and crazy to try to go by myself. Not to mention the haunting green eyes, there are normal dangers like bears, mountain lions, and becoming lost in the dark. Too bad I am such an introvert and don’t have other close friends to invite along.

“Are you going to be brooding all day?”

Startled out of my reverie – yes, I was daydreaming and not brooding – I looked over to the shadow now falling over me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked him.

“Well, hello to you, too, Coda. How has your weekend been going? Mine has been peaceful, thanks for asking.”

“I would say hi, but I wasn’t sure if I would get a response. Besides, we’ve never even been introduced.” It was amazing I was able to sprout out a semi-coherent thought with those glorious eyes staring down at me. And, yes, shades of azure and navy speckled the deep blue along with a green-gold starburst that sprang from around the pupil, as if particles from the sun glistened there.

The laugh that followed startled me. His deep chuckle not only lit up the dull afternoon, but it brightened his whole face as well. I didn’t realize my comment was that funny, but I found myself smiling in return. I couldn’t help it; his laugh was of a contagious kind.

An outstretched hand appeared in front of my face. “You can call me Jeremiah and you’re Coda. There, now we know each other.”

“Whatever you say, but I’m pretty sure I know nothing about you, and I’m positive you know nothing about me.” Something about him made my mouth speak before my brain caught up. Here was a gorgeous boy, standing in front of my house, trying to talk to me, and I was shutting him down royally. There is playing hard to get, and there is completely destroying your chances. I think that I was on the latter end of those.

“I’m sorry,” I began to try to make amends, “I’m just kind of in shock that you are standing on my porch.” Somehow – might I add – silently, he had moved from the sidewalk to the chair on the far side of the porch. I didn’t him moving. Man, I have got to keep my brains or I am going to end up getting

hurt really badly. There is no way a boy of this magnitude could be interested in me. The fact that he is even talking to me is probably proof that he is trying to rebel against the rule of not being allowed to talk to me. Obviously it’s like that saying – if there were a red button and a sign saying “don’t push the red button,” you’d want to push it.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve been completely rude to you, and I came to apologize.” Scuffing his Docs was an amazingly unconfident gesture for this specimen who generally bled assurance. “I still am not supposed to talk to you. Do you want to go somewhere?”

What? Who tells to someone that they aren’t allowed to talk to her and then asks her to go somewhere?

“It depends,” I decided that I really knew nothing about Jeremiah, “I don’t really know. I have to talk to my dad.” Wow, I just made myself look so young and insecure to him. He’s going to leave and never come back! My inner dialogue was becoming longer than my spoken words, and the silences stretched between our conversation.

“You don’t trust me. And you have every reason not to. I promise I will not hurt you. I just want to get to know you and let you know me. You so clearly pointed out that we do not know each other, and I wanted to rectify that situation somewhere with less prying eyes.” I didn’t miss the slight tremble of his hands as worried the hem of his shirt. He’s nervous!

“Ok, let me grab my coat.” If I did not go then, I wouldn’t have ever gotten the courage to go. I was inside in half of a second, through the store, and yelling that I would be home later in the final half-second as I scurried out the door. I figured it was better to not have my dad give him the million-question exam prior to just

hanging out. We will at least leave that for a real date, assuming that he will ever ask me on a real date sometime that is.

Chapter 5

“The quieter you become, the more you can hear.” ~Baba Ram Dass

Running out the door at full speed is never a good idea when someone is waiting on your porch. Without a second’s warning, I ran smack into Jeremiah. Completely humiliated, I plucked my face off of his chest. Why do I feel so safe all of a sudden? It was as if nothing could hurt me. I had not even felt that in my dad’s arms for a few years. Man, I have to figure out how to chill my emotions. I had never felt like this before, and it was bound to end in trouble.

“In a hurry?” His chest rumbled against my cheek as he laughed that worldbrightening laugh again.

“I just didn’t want to keep you waiting.” I hurriedly bent to tie my favorite Converse shoes to hide the traitorous blush on my cheeks.

By the time I looked up, he was already down the walk. So much for chivalry. I belatedly realized what was waiting for me at the end.

“Are you serious?”

“Uhh, yeah. Do you have something against my car?” What waited for me was not “a car.” It was a piece of heaven that had fallen from the sky and landed at the end of our sidewalk. It was a sparkling candy-apple red, ‘65 Mustang Shelby. It was my dream car. Cars did not interest me in the least. None, but this car.

“Is it real?” I still couldn’t get beyond the fact that my favorite car was sitting in my driveway.

“Yeah, it was a gift,” he nonchalantly replied. “Do you like it? I’m not much of a car person myself, but it’s in good shape for its age. I don’t think it will break down on us.”

He completely misunderstood my meaning, but I shrugged it off to embark on the next portion of my fantasy – to ride in a moving ’65 Mustang Shelby. The final part of that dream would be to drive one, but I wasn’t about to ask and push my luck. I had been getting shot down a lot lately and did not feel like pressing.

A change of discussion seemed like the best way to go. “Where are we going?”

“Well, you said that you liked to hike right? It’s too late to go anywhere far, but there’s a short trail I like to take when I need to just get away. It’s only about a mile hike, and we can make it back to the car before dark.”

Good thing one of us was keeping a level head because I hadn’t even thought of that. I would have been deep in bear country, in the dark, with a stranger. From the quick feel my cheek got of his chest, he was in good shape, too, and could probably outrun me if a bear did decide he needed an early spring snack. As the saying goes, you don’t need to outrun the bear, just the person you are with.

The purr of the engine pulled me out of my bear worries. “Wow.” I was beyond words. “Someone gave this to you? What kind of person gives away a ’65?”

“The kind who cares about me more than material possessions.”

I hadn’t realized I said the last part out loud until Jeremiah put me in my place, once again. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. It’s just that this is my alltime dream car. And you own it. And I’m riding in it. Right now.” Yeah, I was babbling but couldn’t stop. It seemed like a recurring theme when I was with him. Either I stood there staring like an idiot or I ran my mouth. Nice, Coda.

“It’s ok. I was giving you a hard time. I kind of caught on to the fact that you liked it when you practically crawled around it and kept saying, ‘wow’.” I had no recollection of ever doing that. I had done a lap around and looked at the original body, but never did I crawl. Well, maybe I crouched down to look at the whitewalls, but my knees did not touch the ground!

“I did not!” The light slap against his leg felt natural; something that I would have done to Tim or Anthony, and I did it without thinking. It wasn’t until his arched eyebrow caught my gaze that I quickly withdrew my hand. What am I thinking? I barely know him! Another moment dragged on.

“So, where are you from, and why did you move to Stanton?” I had to say something to get over the awkward silence after grabbing his leg. Ok, no “grabbing” happened, but I feel like I slightly molested this stranger. After all, I wouldn’t want a stranger grabbing my thigh.

“Haha, you get right to it, don’t you?”

“Sorry,” I mumbled. I was not getting anywhere with this whole dating thing. I guess now would be a good time to it to myself that I had never been on a date before and, based on my actions so far, probably wouldn’t ever again.

“No,” he was still chuckling. “It’s fine. It’s good. I don’t like all the small talk that everyone seems to need and would like to get it over with. I feel like I know you already and want you to know me.”

While I was trying to figure out what he meant by “knowing me already” he continued.

“See, here’s the thing. You are just going to have to trust me. I can’t tell you much about me. I could make up a whole story but I do not want to start off our friendship on a lie. You are going to have to believe that there are things that I not only can’t tell you, but that would put you in danger by knowing them.”

A quiet settled over the car again. What on earth have I gotten myself into? I ran his words over in my head again. A second and third re-run didn’t help clarify anything. You’re going to have to trust me. Put you in danger. He had stopped the car in a lookout, and his blue eyes were staring straight at me.

“I’ll take you home if you want.”

I should have said, “YES.” I should have gone running and screaming, yet I couldn’t and would not to this day, even if I were able to. Sometimes life puts people in your way to trip over. I had tripped and fallen smack on my face. On the side of Red Mountain Road, at age sixteen, my life was coming to a climax. How did this happen? Why was I even thinking about spending time with deep blue eyes, when he was probably in some Mafia family and couldn’t even make his own decisions?

Looking out, I noticed we were at the base of Red Mountain. The view wasn’t

the same as from the top, but it was pretty spectacular anyway. I wouldn’t have chosen this as a “trail” to go to get away, but maybe he was a city boy and thought this was the best. There was about 100 feet of gravel until the lookout. Well, it will be a quick and easy walk. I can at least hear what he has to say and decide later.

“No,” I hoped he hadn’t heard the pause and suspected how much I was talking myself into staying. “No, I’ll stay.”

A relieved sigh escaped his lips prior to him saying, “Ok, let’s go.”

“Go where? We’re at a lookout. There aren’t any trails here. Believe me, I know the trail map for this area like the back of my hand.”

“Then it’s time to practice that trust thing.” The sparkle of his eyes was dulled by tentativeness that I found alluring. It was this hesitancy that made my feet move.

Jeremiah’s idea of hiking was on a game trail that started just beyond the guardrail. With him leading the way, I was able to enjoy an uninterrupted view of him. For the first time that day, I noticed what he was wearing. His fitted white t-shirt over well-worn carpenter pants drew the eye to the golden skin underneath. I found myself wondering if he had worn them in himself or if they had been bought that way.

We walked in companionable silence. Both of us, lost in our own thoughts. There is a certain point in every person’s life when they make that life altering choice. Whether they choose yes or no or not to choose at all (which in and of itself is then a choice) does not matter. What matters is that, at that point, they

claim their life. They stop being an actor and begin writing the script. My choice happened when I got into a car. I would never be the same, nor would I want to go back to my prior life. No matter what happened or will happen in the future, the good that I was blessed with makes it all worth it. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a closet masochistic. I wish that things could work out. I want the girl to get the boy and live happily ever after. Unfortunately, real life typically doesn’t follow the Disney script. Definitely not my real life.

Besides stumbling along an unknown path with a possible Mafia-associated hit man, the day couldn’t have gotten better. It had only taken a casual, half-hour walk to reach our destination. The sun was out, so, even though most of the walk was under a thick pine ceiling, there were moments that the world would stop as the warm golden rays caressed my face. An additional set of rays reflected off of the raven hair in front of me, sending another bit of goodness onto my clammy winter skin. Whoever decided the sun was bad for you never lived through winter.

“Close your eyes, Coda.” The way he said my name was like it had a godly importance. Without knowing it, my eyes involuntarily closed. With this, Jeremiah grabbed my hand and led me forward. As anxious as I was to see where we were heading, I would have stood on my head if he had asked. His hand was warm and he held on with a firm grip, as if afraid to let go. It only took a few more steps to hear, “Ok, now open!”

I was speechless. How did I not know about this place? Surrounding us was a peninsula bordered by a tiny stream, not even two feet across at the largest point. The stream, probably a snow runoff, originated from directly in front of us, where a tiny waterfall was falling down a side of a forty-foot or more cliff face. There was maybe a total of ten feet of land. It was quaint and beautiful. A spot I could have imagined myself escaping to, as if it were made especially for me. The surrounding forest created such a noise buffer it was practically silent beside the gentle crash of the waterfall.

“Wow.” Once again I was astonished by the use of my extended vocabulary. It seemed that near Jeremiah, I would always sound like an idiot. To cover up my recurring embarrassment, I pulled off my jacket and placed it on the ground. I then sat down on it, enjoying the mattress of soft moss underneath, pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. I once read how sitting or standing different ways portrays the amount of confidence a person has in himself. Anything with your arms across your chest signifies you are afraid and trying to protect your vital organs from damage. I wondered how much fear a person has to have to sit with not only her arms around her chest but her legs drawn up as well.

“Hey, what is it?” I felt slightly transparent with him squatting down at eye level with me. His ability to read my expressions was slightly unnerving. That and his apparent concern for me. For as long as I , I could count the people on one hand that cared about me: my dad, Tim, Anthony, and Ashley. Sometimes I even questioned Anthony, as I felt like a tag-along little sister. I supposed my mom would have been on that list originally, but obviously she could have cared less about a 5-year-old’s list of important people.

“I’m not sure.” That was the truth at least. I could say that much without sounding like I was in need of a serious padded room because of nightmares and green eyes.

“You know, you can tell me. I promise not to laugh or think you are crazy or anything. You are safe with me.”

His eyes told me that was true, but I still wasn’t ready to bear my soul and said something to that sort. He soon sat next to me, and we reed our companionable silence. The next hour flew by. I enjoyed the non-awkward quiet that stretched throughout. Because I am such an introvert, with few true very close relationships, there are not many people who energize me. It seemed Jeremiah was trying to be one of those few. The question was, would I let him?

That was the only hour I have ever spent with someone without talking. It seemed we grew closer together than what could have been accomplished with a thousand conversations. I now knew that he liked peace. He cared enough for me to know that I not only liked quiet at times, but also needed it very badly. He took that upon himself to give it to me and I appreciated it more than words could express. We both needed to get away to think. I typically referred to it as “needing to get away to breath,” which is something I felt I could not do with people pressing in on me. He managed to be with me without pressing in on me. I learned all that, but somehow beyond that, I was still clueless about the boy I had come with.

I belatedly realized that we had both ended up lying on our backs, looking up at the cloudless sky. His shoulder was less then a centimeter away from mine, warming my arm with his sun-kissed bare arm. I had taken my jacket off to lie down on and was getting chilled. I knew we had to go but was extremely reluctant to say so.

“We need to get back.” At least I wasn’t the one to break the silence.

“I know.”

Neither of us moved.

Finally he stood and held a hand down to me. Never in my life had I felt like I had dainty hands. My hands were larger than every girl that I had ever compared them to. By third grade, I stopped comparing. My fingers are as long as Tim’s. Of course, my hands are much skinnier and my knuckles are smaller than theirs, but not even holding my dad’s or Tim’s hands makes mine feel girly. Jeremiah’s

hands swallowed mine like a NBA player palming a basketball. He easily lifted me up and then held on for a few seconds after I was on my feet. Turning suddenly, he began toward the trail. “I’m sorry,” he muttered as he glanced back to see if I was following.

I had no idea what he was sorry for. I wasn’t sorry I had come. Maybe it was his ignoring me that he was apologizing for. Maybe it was that he couldn’t tell me anything. I briefly wondered if it was an “I’m sorry for what I’m about to do… leave you here to die” but couldn’t imagine that was it. Besides the fact that I could easily find my way out, I felt a need from the core of my being to trust him. Logically, I could find many reasons not to trust, but illogically my heart didn’t count those as good enough. Somewhere in my gut, I knew I had no other choice but to trust him now.

“Coda.” We had finally reached the car and he was unlocking my door for me, “I have to tell you something.”

“Ok.” That sounded ominous, but it was fine. Even if he said that he had to go back to not speaking (or acknowledging my existence at all), I was fine without a man in my life. I would continue to work at the store and count down the days until summer. I had Ashley and Tim and, well, Anthony, too, when they were free. I had my dad. That’s right, keep telling yourself you’ll be fine and maybe you’ll believe it. I decided to say it for him. “You can’t talk to me. Today was a mistake. I’m sorry you feel that way because I had a wonderful time, but I understand. Well, not really, but for whatever reason you can’t speak to me again.”

“No! That’s not it at all! Wait, you had a wonderful time?” Why this surprised him, I have no idea. “Never mind, we’ll talk about that later.”

There is going to be a later? That didn’t really fit into my never speak to you again hypothesis, but maybe I had miscalculated something.

“No,” he nervously shifted from foot to foot while stammering, “I know what’s causing your dreams.”

WHAT?!?!? Did I just think I didn’t spill my guts but really did? I could have sworn that the hour ed without conversation. Was I completely losing it?

He must have read the confused and partially terrified expression on my face because he was quick to interrupt my internal sanity issues. “Coda, I know because that is why I am here. You are not crazy. I want you to open up to me, but I understand your hesitancy. However, I do not feel like we have the time to wait until when you decide to talk to me about it. I want to be as honest as I can.”

I couldn’t do this face to face. I just couldn’t look into his eyes when he realized how crazy I was and went running from me. Also, the sun had set, and my dad would begin to worry really soon. Is it wrong for me to want one normal day? To go on a nice, quiet date – essentially, my dream date? How come my dreams had to ruin my daylight hours as well?

“Can I call you later to talk about this?”

“Yeah, of course.” I handed him my phone and he quickly put in his number. My inner dialogue had not gotten over the shock enough to congratulate me on how assured I sounded compared to how unsure I felt.

When we pulled in front of my house, he took my hand. “Oh, and Coda? It’s vital not to tell anyone we spent the afternoon together. You can say I saw you walking and gave you a ride. It’s not exactly a lie.” I nodded, but inwardly questioned why that statement needed the same gravity as a marriage proposal.

Chapter 6

“The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them.” ~Ernest Hemingway~

“Where were you?” The voice I heard was not whom I had expected.

“Anthony?” Why was Anthony upset and not my dad?

“Who was that?” Tim’s voice was muffled as he tried to untangle himself from the living room curtains. I should have known he would be at the only window in our living room with a view down Main Street.

“What? What is going on?” I expected my dad to have questions and possibly a complaint from Tim for having to wait on dinner (I knew my dad wouldn’t eat without me), but I was totally lost. “What’s with the Spanish inquisition?”

“That’s what we’re wondering!” Anthony obviously chose to ignore my last question.

I’d always heard of stories of overprotective fathers and brothers and could even imagine my dad being one, as he had shown by the continual self-defense classes. But never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed it’d be coming from my brother and his best friend!

“Boys, chill.” Finally a voice of reason chimed in from the stairway. “Coda told me she was going out for the afternoon. What’s it to both of you anyway?” That was exactly what I was wondering.

He said the last part to their backs going up to what I assumed was Tim’s bedroom. With how they had been behaving though, they could have been going

to toss my room for a nonexistent diary.

“Sorry, Sweetheart. They have been worried since the sun went down. They thought you might have tried to do Red Mountain on your own. Where’d you go anyway? You sprinted out of here faster than I could ask.”

It was time for the guilt. I had never lied to my dad before. Never. And I couldn’t now. I wouldn’t lie to him. “I went down the most amazing trail! I heard about it from a guy at school. By the time I got back to the trailhead, it was dark. A new kid at school was there and gave me a ride back into town.” There, no lies – exactly. Thank God because I couldn’t have done it any other way. He would have seen straight through an outright lie.

“Ok, Honey, I believe you. Next time though please watch the time. And for God’s sake, take the satellite phone! It’s why we got it. We were worried. All of us.” It wasn’t until then that I saw the crease between his eyes. I had worried him.

“I’m so sorry, Dad.” And I meant it from the bottom of my heart because somehow, I knew things were going to get worse before they got better. This time though, there was nothing I could do to stop it. I had already made my choice by getting into the car. The avalanche was already rolling, gathering anything in its way, and I would soon be swept up as well.

I quickly bent into my dad’s outstretched arms, thankful for a place to hide my despairing expression. Sometimes I just felt like something was going to happen – whether it be good or bad – and it usually happened. My intuition was typically right on, and knowing that made a pit in the bottom of my gut. While tucking my head into his chest, I thought I saw a flash of something green outside the front window. Not wanting to know, I buried my face and didn’t let

go.

“Alright now, how about some food?”

I quickly gathered the necessary plates and silverware for the table while my dad took the lasagna out of the oven. It was a good thing I had gotten that at the store the other day because I was starving and it was fresh out of the oven!

“TIM! ANTHONY! DINNER’S ON THE TABLE!” No response. “TIM!” Even my loudest shout, though it shook the chandelier, did not get any response from up the stairs.

Groaning, I hoisted myself back out of my chair at the table. “Go ahead and start, Dad. Who knows how long this will take, and I don’t want to hold up your dinner any longer.”

Knowing I had to put out this fire before we could enjoy dinner, I started up the stairs. “Tim? Anthony?”

“In here, Coda.” I knew it was bad when my brother used my name. I was always “Kid,” “Kiddo,” “Squirt,” or one of many other nicknames, but never “Coda.”

Cautiously opening the door helped none as I saw they were both waiting for me.

“Look, guys, I’m sorry.” I figured apologizing upfront would help soothe the situation.

“Oh, she’s sorry. Hear that Tim? She’s sorry.”

“Anthony, I mean it. I’m sorry. Although, I don’t really understand what the huge issue is. I know I was after dark and you all were worried. I’m sorry. But really, isn’t this a little extreme over a delayed dinner?”

“Do you really think that is what this is about?” Anthony’s sharp retort was so unlike him I couldn’t help the angry tears that filled my eyes.

“I DON’T KNOW! What is it about?”

I was completely caught off guard when strong arms pulled me close. I began to calm down as his smell of Pac Sun’s Issue No. 1 and Dove soap enveloped me. “I was really worried, Kid.” Tim’s whispered statement into the top of my head held no answers.

“Tim, what is going on? This is not like you guys. What else happened today?”

Before he had time to answer, I was yanked out of his arms and into another set. Still angry with Anthony, I resisted a bit but soon gave in. He was almost as much of a brother to me as Tim was and he was obviously worried as well.

Once released and able to breath, I probed again, “What happened?”

They shared a glance overflowing with hidden messages prior to Tim shrugging. “I don’t know. Maybe Anthony’s hitting the steroids too hard.” And that was the whole explanation. I was soon ushered out of the room with a “We’ll be watching you” and a “Don’t even think of sneaking out.” Seriously? Who would I even sneak out with?

Dinner turned out to be just my dad and me. Him with a new Consumer’s Report magazine that had come in the mail earlier that day, and me with my beloved Jane Eyre. It was relaxingly normal, and I loved every second. After dinner, he washed while I rinsed and dried the dishes.

Collapsing on my bed had never felt better. I needed to think long and hard before calling Jeremiah. He knew things. Things about me. There is some knowledge that once gotten, you can never get rid of it. It will change your life. It will change you. Did I want that? I liked who I was. Well, at least I had prior to the nightmares. My family loved me and I them. Can I risk even that? Will I have to?

I had always felt different from the rest of the kids at school. My family was different from other families. Maybe I could find out why Mom left. I had no idea where that thought had come from, but deep down inside of me, I knew that by embarking on this train, I would eventually find her. The problem was that I had no idea if that is what she would want. She did leave us.

It was a little late to plan my whole speech, so I called prior to losing my nerve. “Hello?”

“Coda? I didn’t think you were going to call.”

“Just some trouble with overprotective boys at my house. We’re all good, though.”

“Ok. Just a minute.” The phone clicked.

He had just hung up on me. I was sure it was a mistake and waited for him to call back. By three minutes later, I was pacing my bedroom floor, wondering if it would be presumptuous to call him back, when there was a knock. I opened my door, but no one was there. “Tim?”

He stuck his head out of his room, “What?”

“Nothing. Never mind.” Was I now hearing as well as seeing my hallucinations?

Immediately after closing my door, there was another knock. I realized this time that it was at my window. Rushing over, I flung it open. “What are you doing? And how did you even get up here?”

Jeremiah’s casual smile caused my heart to flutter before regaining its normal rhythm. “We needed to talk. And I climbed.” I looked down at the two-story drop before ushering him in and shutting my window.

“How did you know I would be alone?”

“Well, I figured you wouldn’t call me until you were. Also, I looked in your window to make sure prior to knocking.” I realized then that he was trying to hold back a laugh. “And it was all worth it, seeing you walk confused to your door.” There was no longer any holding back and his amusement poured out.

“Shhh. Quiet! I should throw you out right now. I could have been changing!”

The quiet banter died down to a slightly awkward silence. It was at this point that I realized I had never had a boy in my room before, my dad and brother notwithstanding. I quickly and nonchalantly tried to glance around to see if any embarrassing undergarments were strewn about. Like I thought, there were none. I’ve read so many books where a girl is all of a sudden in her room and has to kick a pile of underwear under her bed or take a bra off the back of her chair. I guess I have never been that girl. Not that I am a neat freak in any sense of the word, I just wouldn’t leave embarrassing things around. Maybe it’s because I’ve been the only girl in the household growing up.

“So, remind me again why you hung up on me?” The quiet had gotten to me. I typically liked quiet but I was slightly out of my depth being in an enclosed space with a boy that I was crushing on. His presence took up too much space in my small room. I reached over and opened my window a crack. The cold air helped clear my head a bit.

“I don’t trust modern technology.”

“Ok, well, would you like to sit down?” I quickly shoved my book bag off of my desk chair, leaving it to fall with a thud on the floor. We both held our breath for a few seconds.

“Nice. Next time you should just yell, though; they’ll come running faster.”

“Har har, I could easily disable you if I so wished, and I’m pretty sure I could at that point throw you out my second story window. You may survive the fall but definitely with a few broken bones.”

That earned me a smile. I found myself wondering if he had had braces earlier in life. His teeth were too straight and too white not to have had them as well as a professional whitening session recently. “Did you have braces?”

“What?” Yeah, I guess it was kind of random. He wasn’t privileged to my inner monologue, iring all parts of him.

“Sorry, I was just envious of your straight teeth, and it would make me at least feel a little better if you had to work to get them to do that.”

Again I received the 100-watt smile. “Nope. Sorry to burst your bubble. No braces. I just came this way.”

So, it was yet another way he was naturally, God-given better looking than any guy I’d ever seen. Who was I kidding; there was no way I could come close to being with him. He would never stoop this low, and who was I to even dream of it?

“Ok, I’m done being random. Talk to me. How do you know about my dreams,

and why should I believe you?” I felt like King Nebuchadnezzar from that Bible story, and my Daniel was now going to tell me what I dreamed and hopefully what it meant.

“You’re dream actually happens. It is a prophecy. Sometime in the near future you will come in with Sariel. You-”

“Who? Is that the green eyes? Because if so, I hate to rain on your parade, but I have seen him a couple times, and it’s never in the pitch black that enfolds my dream.”

“YOU’VE SEEN HIM?”

“Shhh!”

After a few strained moments, he continued in a hushed whisper.

“When, where? Something more is happening that we are missing. He is completely going against all the rules that are set in place. I don’t think I can leave you. It’s too dangerous.”

“Excuse me, but you lost me. Who is going against the rules? And who set these proposed rules in place anyway? And of course you can leave me! You have to. I have my life, and, up to now, I’ve been fine.” I understood he was trying to help, but it was just making me indignant.

“Pardon me. I forget that you are still learning. Yes, Sariel has green eyes. It would withstand to say that he is the one from your prophecy. Sariel is a fallen one.”

“A fallen what?”

“One of the fallen angels. There were two groups of fallen angels. One group followed the Angel of Light – or the Devil, as he is often known now – and fell because of pride. The other group fell just before the time of Noah. A band of angels chose to live among mortals and fell from heaven to do it. Not all of them went for the women, but most went because they lusted after mortal women. Others ed this group because they are comionate to a fault and believed they could better the mortals. Not understanding God’s plan, they too fell when they disobeyed.”

He’s nuts. How can I continue to ignore his insanity? Can I pretend that this night didn’t happen?

I plopped down onto my bed. It was too much. Was he serious? He spoke as if he were in pain over the whole subject. As if he felt bad for the so-called “fallen angels.” He looked at me earnestly as he squatted down in front of me. What was it with Jeremiah and direct eye ? One of these days I was going to lose control and try to kiss him, effectively ending a potential friendship. I wondered what his lips would feel like against mine. I had nothing to compare it to, as I had never kissed anyone before. Would it be soft and heavenly, as I’ve read about in novels? Coda, you NEED to stop that train of thought right away. My mental slap did not help.

“Coda? You’re looking quite pale. Can you call for some water?”

“Yeah, I’ll get some. Hold on.” Call for water, what century was he in anyway? Did he think I have ladies in waiting? I’m lucky if I can even get into the bathroom most days to find a cup for some water. It looked like luck was on my side then because not only was the bathroom free, but there was a clean cup on the sink. I was back in less than a minute.

Jeremiah was studying the pictures on my dresser as I entered. He looked completely at ease in my room. I was sure it was because he had been in a million girls rooms before, doing plenty more than what he was doing in mine. Not turning around, he simply stated, “You don’t believe me.”

“No, I’m sorry. I want to, but it’s a little far fetched. I don’t even know what to think of you at this moment. I want to think you are considerate and mean well, but then that draws us to the conclusion that you are more than slightly delirious. The other option is that you are a jerk and are telling me stories to make fun of me. With that option I will have to revert back to throwing you out of my window.” I left out the part that I would also have to somehow fix my broken heart.

He was in my face before I knew it. I tried to take a step back, but ran into his hand at my lower back. My heart began to race, no longer with fear being the reason. Betrayed once again by my heart, I lowered my eyes.

“I need you to trust me.” It was as if he were trying to will it into me.

“And what if I do? Then what?” I did not want him to leave. If I called him crazy, or if he was a jerk, both would cause him to leave. My only option in getting to spend just a little more time with him would be to go along. I would

decide on the other two options later and probably never speak to him after tonight. But for my sake, I needed tonight.

“Are you humoring me?”

“Maybe, but just tell me. What if I believe you?”

“Well, Coda. Then we go and talk to your father.”

What?!?!? That was so not what I was thinking, nor what I was hoping for. I was hoping something a little more private, a little more he and I, a little more personal. My dad? What does he have to do with this? He had me going to shrinks just because a dream. He’d have Jeremiah committed and taken away from me before we could finish saying, “fallen angels!”

“Uhh, I don’t think that is such a good idea. You see, they were all very mad when I showed up to the house tonight after dark. I don’t know what is going on, but the men in my life are being way overprotective of me right now, and I can only imagine what they would do if I walk downstairs from my bedroom with a boy following me.” Especially one that did not enter through a door.

His fingers grazed my lips to stop me from talking. I had to bite down on the inside of my cheeks to keep from kissing them. This kid, no this man, radiated sexuality. I was way out of my league.

“Trust me.”

Again with the trust. Doesn’t one have to build trust in a relationship? I mean, I could play along with the fallen angels and mafia-like rules, but he kept demanding trust that I couldn’t give. When one’s trust is given and ripped out (especially at a young age), it was no longer given as easily ever again. Sure, Erikson says that “Trust” is built in the first two years of a person’s life, but he doesn’t go on to explain how that trust can come crashing down shortly after it’s built.

Trust was not freely given in my life. One had to earn it. Jeremiah must have seen the resolution in my eyes, for he backed off and sat down on the floor, facing the bed. It was all I could do to slide down my bed to the floor, ending up directly across from him. We were both completely hidden by the bed from anyone who may have walked in my door. I hadn’t even thought of locking it before then.

“Ok.”

“Ok, what?”

“Ok, we won’t talk to your father yet.”

“Thank you.” I did not realize how much I had wanted his trust as well. I knew my dad, and I knew how horrible of an idea that was.

“But you have to agree to some precautions.”

Chapter 7

“One person’s craziness is another person’s reality.” ~Tim Burton~

Jeremiah’s idea of precaution differed significantly from mine. He demanded:

1. NOT BEING SEEN TOGETHER – I countered that if I had a constant bodyguard it would mean less danger to me. He claimed it would work as the opposite and would draw this Sariel character in faster. I didn’t understand, but whatever.

2. KEEP TO CROWDS. IF I WAS TO GO ANYWHERE IT HAD TO BE WITH EITHER FAMILY OR ASHLEY – I had to fight to get her added on that list. Really, who did he think he was trying to keep a girl from her besty?

3. HE WOULD ALWAYS BE WATCHING. IF I WANTED TO CHANGE AND NOT HAVE HIM SEE ME, I WAS TO GO IN THE BATHROOM. – Creeper! I told him that was psycho-stalker crazy, and I wasn’t having it. At that point, he opened my door. As I raced past him to avoid World War III at the Irin household, I carelessly agreed.

He even went as far as leaving a list on my desk, just in case I happened to forget.

I thought most boys were terrified of a potential girlfriend’s father. His blasé attitude of wanting to talk to my dad was even more verification of the fact that he looked at me like a friend or possibly even a charity case and definitely not a

potential anything. By the end of the night I was exhausted. Felt belittled. Stalked. And on top of it all was nursing a broken heart. Since there was no one else I could talk to, my whining was beginning to get on my own nerves. So much for starting the week off well.

“WAKE UP, CODA! WAKE UP NOW! Come on, you can do it!” I lurched upright in my bed and searched for him in my bedroom. I was alone. My nightmare was different. Instead of screaming at myself to wake up, it was Jeremiah’s voice that drew me out of sleep.

Friday. It was finally the end of another long week. My already fried nerves could not handle being ignored anymore by Jeremiah. Knowing why he was doing it did not stop the knife from piercing my chest with every ignored hello and overlooked glance. Ok, so in reality I didn’t adhere completely to the “not being seen together” part. How could I have, with his locker right next to mine? Even worse was that it seemed not to affect him at all.

Instead of being with Jeremiah, I spent my week discovering who he was. From around school, I found out that he was a junior and in A block. I was still sure Breah was involved somehow with that. No one seemed to know where he moved from but that he lived in Stanton with a distant relative on the outskirts of town. He was an only child and was orphaned. He didn’t play any sports yet at SVHS, so if he played any at all, it would have been football, soccer, or basketball. The rest had been or were in season while he was enrolled.

Having gotten mad over his “precautions” seemed slightly insignificant after I found out how alone he was. I often felt betrayed by my mother, but at least I had my dad and Tim. I couldn’t live without them. He must be so deserted to live life by himself! And from what he says, he is turning away a potential friend – me – for my safety. Poor guy!

What with it being Friday and all, I resolved to talk to him at school today. At least I would text him and leave the ball in his court.

-Chng in dream. Talk?-

I figured that was coded enough for his not “trusting of modern technology.” I finished getting dressed – in the bathroom of course – only to walk across an empty hall. This is ridiculous! I rethought that line of thought upon entering my room and finding Jeremiah sprawled on my bed.

“You should recheck numbers 3 and 5. Otherwise, it looks good.”

I picked up my fallen geometry homework as I glared at him.

“What was different in your prophecy?”

I couldn’t believe him! “Oh, hi, Coda,” I mocked. “How was your week? Did you enjoy being ignored, because I sure had fun ignoring!”

“Do you really think I enjoy this?” There was no humor found in his soft voice and I reminded myself that he was still a stranger to me. Being in my room alone may not have been the smartest place to accuse him of things. “, I was the one who wanted to talk to your father. You chose this. I would rather do anything than hurt you but I WILL NOT take away your ability to choose what you want!”

I didn’t realize his arms were around me until he finished. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. He didn’t want to hurt me? Ok, I guess that was a friendly thing. I hate it when I hurt Ash and would rather do anything than continually hurt her like he was doing to me.

“I guess I just wanted things to be different.” I couldn’t meet his eyes. I was such a fool for falling for him. “You woke me out of my dream. It was you shouting for me to wake up this time. And stop calling it a prophecy. It creeps me out.”

Silence followed.

After what could have easily been eternity, I felt his hands under my chin. “I guess that means that I will be helping you then. Look at me, Coda.” He had not left much choice in this matter, as he was pushing my chin up. “I want things to be different, too.”

And with that he brought his lips down to mine. It was quite a process. He was taller than I had even realized, definitely over six feet. Maybe 6’1” or even 6’2.” At first he simply lightly brushed his lips to mine, gauging my reaction. On their own accord, my hands wrapped around his neck, molding my body to his. Running his tongue across my lower lip, I opened them freely. His left hand pulled my lower back closer yet as he deepened the kiss.

It felt like it had been hours when he pulled back, placing his forehead against mine. We were both breathing heavily when my alarm clock jostled us back to the real world.

“See you at school, Coda. And try to look for the little things.” With a sparkle in

his eye, he was out my window.

I slammed off my alarm and skipped down the stairs. That had been my first kiss, and I couldn’t have dreamed for a better one.

“Little things. Little things.” I had been repeating this mantra since the beginning of the school day and still had no idea what that meant. How can I look for something if I had no idea what it was? I began putting my combination in my locker when a warm hand slid down next to my arm.

“Sorry.”

Oh, those little things. I shivered as the memory of Jeremiah’s warm hand stayed on my arm. All of that week I had been annoyed at how close our lockers were. If only he were further away, it wouldn’t hurt so much when he ignored me. It drove me crazy when he bumped into me or caught my eye, only to look away. Now I realized it was Jeremiah’s way of trying to give me assurances that he was there, even though we could make no outward expressions towards each other.

“No, it’s fine, Tim, I’ll just walk.” Whatever had the guys spooked about me coming home late, definitely had not worn off by the end of the week. Tim and Anthony were going somewhere and couldn’t swing by the house to drop me off. As all the slopes were closed, I had no idea where they were headed. Luckily, school was less than a mile off Main Street. With the school-day ending, the road was definitely well traveled at this time. I wouldn’t consider myself breaking the “stick with crowds” rule as all the “crowds” were leaving school and driving home.

“Thank you so much, Squirt! I owe you.” I watched Tim sprint off before I gathered my backpack, shut my locker, and started the trek home. The jingle as he nervously twirled his keys my only indication of his uncertainty on leaving me alone. What is wrong with everyone?

Stanton Valley High School isn’t actually located in the “valley.” It’s uphill from town, which meant that my walk was downhill. I was extremely grateful for this, as I was carrying my load of schoolbooks. I belatedly noticed I should have at least made Tim take my bag and leave it in the car.

I hadn’t realized spring had come until I stepped out of the school’s parking lot and into the explosion of wildflowers. From golden banners to the columbine to the false dandelion – definitely my favorite – they littered the meadows on both sides of the road. Pinks, yellows, oranges, purples; it looked like a crayon box had exploded. This, above everything else, made winter worth it. The sun wouldn’t feel as good had there not been dreary days between. And nothing could beat the smells whirling around me!

Wanting to walk through them, I cautiously stepped off the shoulder gravel, to the grass below. The temperatures had risen higher than I expected, causing me to pause and strip off the coat I had been wearing. A whisper of breeze hit my neck, resulting in a long shiver. I tried for nonchalance as I glanced around, but could not shake the feeling of being watched. Nothing was there, not even a squirrel. No green eyes at least.

As I began walking, the urge to run grew stronger and stronger. I knew something was wrong because I hated running! Every August, the cross-country coach would call my house, asking me if I wanted to the team. I never understood why, since I had not shown any interest in wanting to run for the past four years! When I was not even a football field away from the parking lot, it hit me. I was going to die today. Instead of running like every cell in my body was screaming, I turned. There’s no way I am going down without a fight. Fight-or-

flight, and this girl will choose fight every time!

A dark mist began swarming towards me. At first, I couldn’t make out any defining shapes within until, at last, I saw the things of my nightmares. Two green eyes stared out at me. Finally it shifted to begin taking on the shape of a man. A very tall and absolutely stunning man. I began backpedaling as fast as I could. There was no way I would take my eyes off of him, but I wasn’t going to just stand there and wait for it. I no longer liked my fighting idea, as the thing I wanted to fight couldn’t have possibly been human. I have to get out of here, and FAST!

“Coda.” The unexpected pleasant voice gave me pause. “Coda, wait.”

Once again, the world was figuratively shifting under my feet. Was I supposed to wait? What did I know about these eyes besides what Jeremiah told me? He could be the bad guy. No, I knew that wasn’t right. Something was whispering thoughts in my ear, and I wasn’t going to have it. I unlocked my phone inside my pocket and pushed 9.

Not sure if he could read minds, I kept moving. If it knew I had just called in reinforcements, I was sure it would be over before it began. I was dead.

“What do you want?”

The mist had completely gone, leaving a well-dressed man looking to be in his mid-thirties. His brown hair was gelled and slicked back over his head. He could have been a basketball star, as he was probably 6’6” and stick skinny. His wellfitted gray suit couldn’t hide the way his bones seemed to want to crawl out of

his skin. Obviously he was not human. I still did not completely believe Jeremiah’s fallen angel theory, but even I could see that something was definitely wrong about this thing.

“You. I want you.”

“Well, you know,” I tried for casual joking but it came out strained and pitchy. “I’m kind of seeing someone. Had you introduced yourself about two weeks ago, maybe we could have given it a go, but…”

A blast of wind hit me hard enough in the chest to send me collapsing on my backside. Instinct snapped in, causing me to try to keep the momentum and do a backward summersault, with the hope of ending upright on my feet. Instead, my backpack caught on the gravel, forcing the back of my head to whiplash into the ground. I rolled to my side and staggered onto my knees. I had to have had a concussion, as the world was slightly hazy on the edges and a splitting headache tore my skull in two.

A bright light furthered the proof of a concussion. Get up, Coda. If you’re going to die, you will look it in the face and spit before you go. Somehow, my inner voice had more sass than my outward motions. Even so, I managed to look up just in time to see someone squatting down in front of me.

Reflexively, I quivered back while managing to throw a nice right hook.

“Ow! Is this how you treat all your rescuers?”

“Miah?” I contemplated how hard I hit my head. “Why are you here?”

“Well, believe it or not, you called me.” I vaguely ed pushing the number he assigned himself on speed dial in my phone. “What happened?”

“It was him, Sariel. He came out of a cloud.” Out of everything that happened, I could not get over the fact that he was something other than human. Jeremiah looked at me expectantly, so I shuddered on. “He said he wanted me. He really can’t take a joke. Somehow, he pushed me with air and I fell.”

Goodbye, wonderful lavender sheets, hello bleached psycho ward sheets. Why I had itted to him that I was pushed with air made no sense. My concussion apparently disabled the “holding information back to keep myself sane sounding” part of my brain.

Jeremiah chose to ignore the air comment and began at once examining my head. “I think you have a slight concussion. We need to see your father. I can’t keep him out of this any longer.”

Instead of the typical feeling of worry over WWIII, I actually agreed that we should see my dad. He would know how to fix this. He always fixed my problems. Well, everything until the nightmare, but that wasn’t really life threatening. Ok, so neither had my other problems, but it would definitely make me feel better not keeping this from him.

I was so shaken up, I scarcely noticed that we were once again driving in my most desired car. Jeremiah had carried me to the enger side, batting away any arguments. By the time I had taken off my seatbelt upon arrival, he once

again had my door open and had me in his arms.

The bell announced our arrival into the store. Most people would have stopped there and waited for directions, but Jeremiah continued walking through the back as if he knew where he was going. I was finally put down on our well-loved, second-hand couch. I looked up just in time to see my dad’s furious face in the bookstore door we had just walked through.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? AND WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY DAUGHTER?”

“Dad! It’s my fault.” I had never seen my dad so furious! I blamed my concussion again for the fact that it looked like my dad recognized Jeremiah.

“Penemue, you knew someone had to be sent.” I became conscious of the fact that they were not only ignoring me, but that they seemed to know each other.

“Yes, but you, Jeremiel? Why you?” I was pretty sure that my dad called Jeremiah, Jeremiel. I wondered absently why Jeremiah lied to me about something so petty as his name. If he lied about that, what else had he lied about? And when did anyone ever call my dad by his first name? My dad’s name is Penemue, so one can see why most people call him Mr. Irin or Frank, which is his middle name.

“I understood the situation best. You know, Penemue, you are not as disliked as you like to believe. You have many cheering for you. Especially, in regards to your family. Your daughter is hurt; see to her.” Jeremiah’s tone had left the friendly zone and became orderly. Who was he that he thought he could boss my

dad around?

“WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW ABOUT FAMILY, JEREMIEL?” With that last bellow, my dad finally looked over at me. Go, Dad!

I’m sure I was as white as I felt, however it was less the concussion and more from the scene unfolding before of my eyes. “Oh, Honey, I’m so sorry. What do you need?” My dad’s demeanor changed instantly upon seeing me. He became the father that I loved and respected. He turned back into the man that I knew. I noticed though, that he took the long way – away from Jeremiah – to get to my side. I didn’t know what history they had, but I was going to find out.

Chapter 8

“Nothing weighs on us so heavily as a secret.” ~Jean de La Fontaine~

I didn’t realize until much later what an importance that conversation held. As I lay on my bed, pondering it all, I had many more questions than answers. The afternoon was spent on the couch, resting, with my father’s hand on my head. I was sure it was a sort of ownership thing, as Jeremiah kept shooting his hand dirty glances.

After it was decided that I did indeed have a concussion - I’m not sure where my dad got his medical degree, but both guys practically ripped my head off when I suggested a doctor – my dad closed up the bookstore. He put a sign up saying,

“FAMILY COMES FIRST. SORRY WE HAD TO CLOSE EARLY.”

It was professionally made, making me wonder for how long he had the sign and just how well I knew my father after all. He obviously expected something to happen to us sooner or later and was prepared for it. Did he have our bags packed in the trunk to grab us and run when the Mafia came?

The afternoon did me well though, and by six o’clock I was starving. We ordered a few pizzas and were eating when Tim and Anthony came home. And exploded.

“What’s he doing here?”

“Who are you?”

“What happened?”

“Why did you close the store?”

“Is anyone hurt?”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“Who is this?”

Between the two of them and the rapid fire of questions, I had no idea who was talking or whom to answer. To avoid having to speak, I quickly shoved another bite of Hawaiian pizza in my mouth. My dad, who was usually the epitome of manners, merely looked at Jeremiah. I couldn’t believe it! Who was this and where had they taken my dad?

Jeremiah didn’t look phased at all, “I’m Jeremiah. Coda was walking home from school today and got jumped. I scared off the guy and brought her home.” I guess he knew better than to add that the one I was “jumped” by was a fallen angel and that I had called him to my rescue instead of any of the three men in my dining room.

As soon as he mentioned, “walking home,” my brother’s ashen face looked even worse, and his gaze quickly dropped to the floor.

“I am hereby calling a family meeting tonight at 8 p.m. It gives us all some time to cool off and gather our thoughts. Eight sharp, living room. Of course,

Anthony you will be here, and I guess we now have to include Jeremiah as well.” I suppose if my dad had turned and spit pizza in Jeremiah’s face as well, he could have been a little ruder than he had been.

“I would be honored to attend.” Jeremiah didn’t seem to notice my dad’s lack of control. I did not understand why Anthony was invited at our family meeting, but if it meant Jeremiah could be there, too, then I agreed.

With Jeremiah’s agreement, I had grabbed his hand, stood up, and practically dragged him up the stairs after me. Only by chance did I glance back and see Anthony dishearteningly staring at the two of us.

“Before you ask, no, it’s not my place to tell you. I’m sure he’ll enlighten you tonight at the meeting. If you have further questions after that, I will fill you in. Your father needs a chance first though, to tell you himself.”

I assumed he would answer that way but was still a little upset that he wouldn’t tell me what was going on. I had no idea who my dad or my family was, and my world was eroding around me. I would tumble over the side if I did not find some answers soon.

“Why me?”

“Coda, come here.” He was lying on my bed, patting the empty spot next to him. “You shouldn’t be worked up. Concussions can lead to much worse things if they are not taken seriously.”

I gladly accepted the spot on the bed and nuzzled into the crook of his arm. My life had definitely changed. Feeling safe had been a no-brainer for most of my life. I lived in a small – no, tiny – town in the middle of a giant mountain range. I lived with my dad and an older brother. I had a surrogate older brother as well. A girl could not be much more protected without a 24/7 bodyguard. On top of everything, I had just laid down next to this said bodyguard without a second thought. As if I had done it a million times before.

And somehow I felt safer with him than with my former lifelines downstairs. Speaking of 24/7, “Why did I have to call you today? I thought you were going to be watching me.”

No answer. He could have been deaf, staring at the glow-in-the-dark constellations on my ceiling. Oh no, I am getting some answers. “Hello, Miah? Where were you?”

“I’m sorry,” he regrettably sighed as he looked back down at me, “I let you down. I got an emergency call and left you. I was outside when I saw your car leaving. Figuring you were in it, I followed Tim and Anthony most of the way to Aspen before you called. When I realized you weren’t with them, I floored it home. You called when I was almost here, but I could have been too late.” Lost. That was how he looked.

Turning into him, I put my arm around his chest. “I’m here. I’m ok. And it’s because of you.” I did not completely understand why he felt so guilty, as I had just met him, but he was taking this bodyguard thing very seriously.

Silence followed, but knowing guys, it was a silence that needed to not be broken. He needed to deal with the issue on his own and move on. The sooner the better. I was awakened a half-hour later by him turning to face me. “You

need to stay awake after a concussion.”

“So help me.”

The rest of the evening was spent enjoying each other’s company and trying to learn as much as possible about who he was. He kept me talking, which enabled us to develop a sort of friendship outside of stressful and life-saving situations.

“I like it when you call me, ‘Miah.’”

“Oh, yeah? Sorry, Jeremiah is so long, I got tired and decided to shorten it. Also, I was half unconscious when I said it. Speaking of names, why did my dad call you Jeremiel?”

“My name is too uncommon for here, so when I moved I changed it to Jeremiah. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you my real name. I would have, but just didn’t think of it.”

Hearing his answer, I felt bad about getting suspicious. After all, he had saved my life today, this I was sure of.

“And how do you know my dad?”

“Let’s wait to see what he has to say, please? I don’t want to step on his feet any more than I am required to do so.”

Required? What? Knowing any more questions would go unanswered, I decided to find out more about him instead.

“Do you play any sports?” The question seemed out of place after the seriousness of the day, but I wanted to know him.

“I would like to, but I have never had the opportunity to be on an actual team.”

“That’s horrible! Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a jock, but if you like something, you should go for it.”

“I agree.” He had thrown his left hand up over his head, and began to stroke my hair.

“You have no idea how relaxing that is. My mom used to do it to get me to fall asleep. If you want me to stay awake, you should stop playing with my hair.”

Why did I just breach the subject of my mom? There was no going back now. I knew his next question would be about her, and I was not disappointed.

“What happened to her?”

“She left when I was five. It was like she was there one morning, went for a run,

and never came back. We checked her closet, and her clothes were gone. She even took the family pictures from their frames, leaving us with no physical memory of her. I think the only picture we have is one that my dad had in his wallet at the time. Tim was in second grade, and I was in kindergarten. My dad picked us up at school, and we came home to an empty house.”

The memory of my dad screaming, “NOOOO! YOU CAN’T TAKE HER FROM ME!” still haunted me to this day. It was as if he was crying out with every cell of his body, screaming for his missing soul mate. The universe either never heard him or never cared enough to return her.

For some reason, I ed every sound, every smell, and every scent of that moment. The moment we discovered that my was mom missing. My dad’s screams were the one thing that I had wished over and over that I could forget. They echoed like sirens in my skull. Realizing that I had stopped in the middle of my story, I began talking again.

“And that’s about it. We packed up the house and moved within a week. We came here, started a new school where everyone knew each other already, in a town where we were marked with our own version of a scarlet ‘A’ on our clothes.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. It was not fair. But, it made you who you are. You know, you are so much stronger, more loving, more loyal, more disciplined, more honest, more you – all because of growing up without a mother. And you never know, maybe she did not want to leave either.”

No one had ever reacted to my story like that. Most people would pour out all this fake empathy and talk about how horrible it was. They would finally question how a mother could ever leave her children and move on to a new

subject. My past made them feel uncomfortable. One of the main reasons I never told people – well the few that didn’t already know – was because I hated getting those pity looks. It amazed me that he didn’t respond in the same manner. Instead of focusing on the leaving part, he focused on the now part. And since when did he know me well enough to know that I am loyal or any of those other things he mentioned?

I knew he was trying to make me feel better, so I let the comment slide about her not wanting to leave. She obviously wanted to leave. There was no sign of a struggle. My dad did not even call the police. It was apparent to all of us – even me at five years old – that she wanted to go and not be found.

I plopped down on the loveseat at 7:59 p.m. I figured Jeremiah would sit next to me, but he stood against the wall near the store door. Tim and Anthony were already waiting on the couch, watching some college basketball game. My dad walked in less than 30 seconds later and decided to sit in the only other chair in the room. He took the rocking chair that my grandfather made, which faced the wall where Jeremiah was standing behind me on the loveseat. Only my dad has the guts to shut off the TV when two senior guys were watching a game.

Expecting a squabble from the Boy Scout team on the couch, it surprised me when no one said anything.

“So,” my dad uncomfortably looked at me and then back at his feet, “I’m guessing you want an explanation.”

I didn’t understand why this conversation was directed at me and not at all of us. “Uhh, yeah. I guess I think it would be beneficial for me to know why someone tried to kill me today.”

“Well, Coda, to begin with, he wouldn’t have killed you. He would have taken you, and, well, let’s just say you would have been better had he killed you if that had happened.”

Ok, when I thought this couldn’t get any weirder, it did.

“What?” Thinking of a more in-depth question was completely out of my realm of possibilities at that point.

“Ok, let’s start from the beginning. Do you the stories I used to tell you about your mom? About her being an angel and being forced to leave?” I hesitantly nodded. “Well, it wasn’t a story.”

I waited for the punch line. I waited for everyone to laugh about how gullible I was and tell me what really happened. No one moved. I took a second and looked to Tim. His guilty face told me the horrible, wonderful truth.

“You knew?” And Anthony, too? “EVERYONE KNEW, AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO TELL ME, HEY, YOUR MOM DIDN’T LEAVE YOU BECAUSE SHE HATED YOU?”

Somehow I had ended up on my feet. I was so furious, I was shaking, and my tears were threatening to spill. They do that when I am angry.

“Coda,” Tim looked like a bus had run him over and then backed over him again

for the fun of it, “I just found out last month on my birthday. Apparently, they thought we could only handle the truth when we turned 18. Anthony only found out on his birthday two weeks ago.”

This explained the severe reaction when I didn’t show up at home on time. They knew Sariel was after me. And no one told me. No one except Jeremiah. I turned to him, “Where do you fit in with all this?” and waited expectantly.

“I told you we’d give your dad his chance. Give it to him, please.” The added “please” was the only reason I sat back down and turned my tear-streaked face towards my father.

“If you are going to react like that, I’m afraid of what you will do with the rest of the story.”

“Tell her, Penemue. She deserves to know. At this point, her life may depend on her knowing. And you are not the bad guy you think you are. There is still redemption available.” It seemed like that last part was for my dad’s ears alone.

By 1 A.M., the story had finished. I sat staring at the red embers, which was all that was left of the fire next to where my dad had rocked. Most of the fault for the elongating of the story was mine, as I couldn’t go more than two minutes without stopping with a question. Many of them were only answered by, “We can’t tell you,” or “We don’t know.” Whoever it was that determined what they could and could not say certainly kept them on a tight leash!

I had no worries about nightmares that night, as I knew I would never be able to fall asleep. My dad put a parental stop to letting Jeremiah up to my room, as he

said it was after midnight and unacceptable for a “man” to be alone in my room anyway. Knowing that if I really wanted him, I could always call, and he’d show up shortly, I didn’t put up a fight.

Apparently, I was part angel. I never found out how my dad and Jeremiah knew each other, but I would pester Jeremiah over the weekend for that information. I would not go without it.

My dad explained to me that the information was a give and take kind of thing. He would tell me all he could, but he physically would be stopped at some point. I asked if he could just say it quickly, and he’d say more before “they” caught on, but I got a scowl. I guess you can’t cheat the system. Well, my mom found a way to do it once; I will again.

I had thought previously that my world was rocked; well, it was plum spilt all over the cracked desert sand now, the last few drips dissolving quickly. Few people go through troubled times in their lives only to realize later that it was all falsified. All those nights crying because my mom didn’t love her family enough to stay were in vain. She was probably watching me the whole time, wishing she could mop my tears.

Apparently my mom loved me more than her own happiness. She was an angel. She somehow came down to earth, met and married my dad, and had Tim and, two years later, me. For whatever reason, she was allowed to live with us for five years before being “called” back.

My tears had spilled freely when the conversation arrived at this point. The guys looked extremely uncomfortable sitting there, watching the waterworks. Jeremiah even left the room. I thought he was gone for good until he returned carrying a cup of my favorite ion fruit tea with a box of Kleenex. How he

knew my favorite tea, I did not know nor care at that point. The gesture was so beyond what any of the other three men in the room had done. My dad and Tim sat sheepishly throughout the whole episode, watching me doctor my tea and drink. I felt betrayed beyond words at my dad. He held me so many times, watching my hurt, watching my self-esteem never develop, because really, who’d love someone whose own mother didn’t love her?

Tim looked pained. He had never before kept something from me and had been protecting me my whole life. So many people have horrible relationships with their siblings – not Tim and me. I could go to him with everything. As if sensing my thoughts, he looked up at that moment and mouthed, “I’m sorry.” He then looked back down and didn’t say a thing until “Goodnight, Kiddo.”

I couldn’t hug any of them before rising and going to bed. I do not a night, going to bed so alone. I had always had a hug and a kiss on my head from both Tim and my dad. If Anthony was at the house, he was included in that ritual.

For most of the night I didn’t realize why Anthony was there or why he would be privileged to information about my family prior to me. Mid-way through the night, I had only grasped that we had moved to Stanton for our protection and that there were other “Nephilim” families. That’s when I finally recognized that Anthony’s must have been one of those families.

The word “Nephilim” itself brought a whole new round of questions. Evidently, Nephilim were people containing some angel blood in varying degrees, as some were half, quarter, eighth, etc. Some dated back thousands of years and wouldn’t even really be conscious of their Nephilim status were it not for their family’s good records. My dad actually pulled out his black, leather bound, Bible to show me the word in Genesis 6, where angels came down to be with the “daughters of men.”

Coming to the conclusion that Sariel wanted the same thing with me, I shuddered. Hasn’t anyone told him that things have changed in the past few thousand years and that women get a choice these days? Apparently not.

Biting the bullet, I agreed to what they were saying. I did not want to believe in fairy tales about angels and fallen angels, but I had seen Sariel with my own eyes. He was not human. It was at that point that I asked about where my dad and Jeremiah fit in. My dad opened his mouth to speak, left it open a few seconds, and closed it again.

“I can’t tell you.” Jeremiah did the same movement and finally nodded his consent with my dad.

CRASH!

The vase on the coffee table next to my dad had hit the floor, scattering in a million porcelain pieces across the room. Following the direction of everyone else’s eyes, I stared at my dad. He was shaking. I had never seen him even yell in anger, and we had just witnessed him throw a lamp!

“Why not? Sariel is here. HERE, Jeremiel! We all know how ruthless he is! He wants my daughter. We can’t give her enough information to even begin to prepare. Can’t you do anything?”

“I’ve been trying! Believe me, I’ve been trying and been told to wait. Where do you think I went today when I thought she was safe with her brother?”

I guessed that coded messages were the only additional information we were going to get. Why is my dad looking to this teenage boy for the answers to our problems? Who is Jeremiah? Should I be afraid of him?

“Stay posted for additional meetings and training.” Without another word, he turned and bounded up the steps to his room, two at a time.

Did my dad literally just say that? My dad, the pacifist, quiet, bookstore owner was talking like he was in the military. I knew that no good could come out of that.

As the sun sank over the horizon, my heavy lids finally fell. It must have been the concussion, stress, and information-overloaded day, because for the first time in months, I slept five hours without a dream.

Chapter 9

“I like this place and could willingly waste my time in it.” ~William Shakespeare~

I woke the following morning to the smell of brunch. The aroma of biscuits, gravy, eggs, and bacon drew me downstairs so fast that I only managed to pull on my slippers prior to leaving my room. This meant that I was heading down in one of Tim’s old football T’s and a pair of gray yoga pants. Yoga was undoubtedly not my thing, as both times I had tried it I almost fell asleep, but I loved the pants!

Bouncing off the last step, I rounded the corner only to find a table full of people. Screeching, I pulled back towards the steps only to be trapped into a body directly behind me. A firm hand clamped over my mouth. I spun around as Tim began berating me.

“Coda, chill.” Tim’s hand quickly dropped, “Really, who sounds like that first thing in the morning? What’s wrong with you?” Ugh!

I was glad the sorrowful, brooding Tim from last night was gone. “Oh, Tim, I forgive you!” He smiled and pried my arms from around his waist.

“I’m sorry, kid. I couldn’t tell you. You saw how it was. I did everything I could to save you though. I’m just glad you know now. It would have killed me to go two years without telling you!” I hadn’t thought of that before, but I was glad, too. “Come, on, let’s get some grub.”

“No way! Half of the town is there, Tim. I haven’t showered or even brushed my teeth!” I hissed.

“You look beautiful as always.” Jeremiah’s voice startled me from behind.

“Eeek!” I whirled and nearly punched him in the stomach, only managing at the last second to land it on his arm instead. “You scared me!” Covering my mouth, I sprinted back up the stairs, calling down, “I’ll be down soon.”

Being the only girl in the household had taught me to be quick in getting ready. I was back downstairs in seven minutes flat – showered, brushed, and dressed. I decided to go for comfy and kept the yoga pants, but I at least put on a shirt that fit me.

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” The same kiss, look, and smile that had greeted me every morning I could came from my dad. If anything, I felt that there was a freer expression on his face. “Come meet the group.”

Anthony and Mr. Johnson were there. Mr. Montgomery, too. Of course, my best friend’s dad is here. I briefly wondered how incidental my friendship with Ashley really was. Mr. Smith, who owns a hiking store down the street, Mr. Goodman from the library, and three others I recognized from church but didn’t their names looked at my from across the table. I am horrible with names if I do not use them on a daily basis.

I looked around the room and realized I was the only girl. I knew for a fact that Mr. Smith and Mr. Goodman both have daughters over 18. Ashley was the oldest in her family, so it was obvious she wasn’t “inducted” into our secret society yet, but why were the others excluded? Are girls not allowed to be Nephilim? Other than my mom, I had only heard of male angels. This could be problematic. Not that I minded guys, but I really didn’t want to be the only girl in a boys-only club. Especially since it seemed like I was already given privileges by being let into the club early.

Sinking down into my seat, I mumbled a “hello” to the group and began digging into the food that had magically appeared on the coffee table in front of me. I sat with Tim on one side and Jeremiah on the other. Good thing I was little because our couch was also holding Anthony on the far side of Tim. Conversation had stopped when I entered the room but gradually began again when I started eating.

There was an undercurrent of tension throughout brunch. After everyone was finished eating, and the dishes piled for me to enjoy washing later, my dad took center stage. “Most of you know my children and their importance. We also know that Sariel is in the area and now it has been confirmed that he is after Coda.” With that statement, a few pairs of eyes landed on me. I shrugged a little deeper into the cushion behind me, placing both of my shoulders behind the guys’. “Because of this recent development, she has been allowed to know who and what her mother is. She knows she is Nephilim and now, knows that you are, too. Like the rest of us, she will be unable to speak of this to anyone outside this room.”

With that last statement, he looked to me. I couldn’t read his expression, but it was almost painful, as if he knew firsthand the pain behind not being able to share information with a loved one. At that moment, I forgave my dad with my whole heart. I knew he couldn’t have told me. I did not accept the “rules” and was still going to find a way around them, but I did not hold it against my father. It isn’t in his makeup to challenge authority, and I loved him for how he was. He would have told me if he had been able to.

“Ok, now that we know each other, let’s open the floor. Any ideas on how to keep my daughter safe?”

Jeremiah flew to his feet. A few murmured, “Who is that?” But neither Jeremiah nor my dad answered.

“We already spoke about this and agreed that I was handling the safety department.” His jaw was set and his eyes slightly drawn together. Were it not that I was obviously obsessed with watching him and his facial expressions, I never would have caught the challenge he directed at my father. Apparently, my father new him well enough to have noticed it as well.

“Jeremiah, when we allowed you to come to this meeting, you agreed that I was leading it. I am merely opening the floor to other ideas. We may have overlooked something. She is my daughter, and I WILL do all I can to keep her safe.”

He stood a second longer, then finally nodding once, Jeremiah sat back down and very deliberately took my hand. For a brief second, I thought of snatching it back. Let him fight his own battles with my dad. I was not property to either him or my dad and could make my own decisions. Resolving to talk to both of them about that later, I left my hand where it was, as I was a bundle of nerves and appreciated the hand to hold.

For the next hour, I rehashed the story of my attack no fewer than five times, instinctively knowing to leave out the call to Jeremiah. It was obvious that these men did not know Jeremiah and definitely did not trust him as far as they could throw him. They were only putting up with his presence, out of respect for my father.

We concluded to do the same thing that we had been doing. Well, without my walking home on my own. Now that I was in on the secret, Tim and Anthony would be pardoned for any tardiness in getting to training, ensuring that I was home safely prior to heading out. I found out that there was some sort of Nephilim school and training, which is where they were rushing off to on the day in question.

With caffeine in my blood and a new lease on life, I was bouncing in my seat. A couple times Jeremiah casually laid his hand on my jumping knee, saying so quietly I hardly heard, “Soon, we’ll go. Soon.” Had one more person asked me to repeat of my attack story, I may have snapped. That morning I got a first-hand look at how a police interrogation feels, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out who were the good cops and who were the bad.

I’m sure that people wanted to talk to me more, but as soon as the meeting was adjourned, I pulled his still-connected-to-mine hand and we went out to the bookstore. Once through the door, I yanked Jeremiah to me. The lights were not on in there, yet the sun found its way to his hair, the reflection making shadows around his face. I needed something constant and – funny as it may be – right then it was Jeremiah. Somehow, he had rearranged my priorities, my cornerstone of life. It used to be my family. Now it was he. I briefly wondered and hoped that I would not regret that decision later down the road.

“Coda, tell me what you need right now. Everything is changing around you. I don’t want to make decisions for you. What do you want to do today? What do you need, for your sanity’s sake, to do?”

I paused to give him an honest answer. There were many things I wanted to do, including kiss him until I forgot about everything else in my world, but what did I “need?” I hesitantly put my hands on each side of his face and pulled him towards me. When he was less than an inch away from my face, I stopped pulling.

“First, I am going to kiss you,” I whispered, my nose touching his. “Then I want you to take me somewhere.”

I do not know where the boldness came from. After all, I had only been kissed once before. All I knew was that my world was swirling in chaos. My living room was filled with strangers who knew more about me than I did. I needed a reminder of happiness before I lost myself to terror.

He closed the distance between us without pause. I forced myself to forget all about the men in the room on the other side of the wall and about my part-angel status. I concentrated on his smell, the muscles in his upper back, the way his lips earnestly searched mine. As if I had the answers to a question only he knew.

After a minute, the door behind us closed quietly, and I pulled him toward the side door. I knew the front door would jingle the bells hanging there. “Come,” I whispered without letting go of his hand. Not wanting to stop for any additional conversations, we fled from whoever had entered the bookstore.

Once reaching the sunshine and grass of the side yard, we broke into a run. Although I beat him to the car by half a second, I was strongly suspicious that he could have easily beaten me had he wanted to. Does being an angel make you fast? If so, why am I so slow? He arrived and had the door open for me before I could even his presence. “Let’s go.” He closed my door and quickly slid into his side of the car. “Now, where was it you wanted to go?”

“Surprise me. Take me somewhere else I haven’t been. I loved the waterfall and now want to go somewhere else. Take me somewhere unfamiliar.” I couldn’t bear to go to any familiar places, as I had recently changed so drastically myself.

He turned onto Main Street and then toward Smuggler Mountain Rd. It was as if he had a repertoire of romantic settings planned, just incase he may need them one day. Sitting back against the surprisingly comfortable bucket seats, I again focused my attention on the present. The rose morning sun flooded the car, its

rays revealing the dusty streaks that arced across the windshield. A few nonthreatening clouds gathered in the sky, although I guessed we would have rain by the next day. I did not question where we were going, as I did not want to know. I wanted to trust Jeremiah.

So many things had changed, including the fact that I was aware he physically could not be completely transparent with me. And how was it going to help me – or the universe for that matter – if no one could be forthright with me? I was not sure how I felt about that. Could a relationship really work without laying it out there? Everything I had ever heard said otherwise, but what if it was involuntary? What if physically he couldn’t tell me certain things? At least I knew he wasn’t lying to me. He was merely incapable to tell me the whole of it.

Jeremiah did not surprise me when he rolled the car to a gentle stop on the side of the road. I expected it and probably would have been disappointed if our destination were anywhere marked. Directly across the road I saw a large circular mirror that helped people see around the sharp switchbacks. I had figured that we would at least go down to the lakes and start from there, but we had only made it partway down the dirt road before we pulled over. The car barely stopped moving before I flung myself out, breathing in the crisp air. There was something about mountain air that always seemed so clean.

The shoulder backed up directly into the aspen forest that bordered Smuggler Mountain Road at that point, their white trunks like posts on God’s fence to the rest of the mountain. I could only imagine God’s sign saying, “I built this. You mess it up, beware.” The dirt road was a nuisance to him, but allowable. Nothing more would be accepted.

I looked questioningly at Jeremiah, who smiled his mischievous smile and pointed ahead of us. I wasn’t sure if this trail was a game trail or an actual trail. There are also many mountain biking trails through this area, and since this one looked more used than a game trail, I was betting on it being the latter of the

three.

After his offhanded gesture of the trailhead, I decided to lead the way. Gathering myself, I began an easy pace on the slightly sloped trail. It wasn’t long until we left the aspen forest and entered into the pines. The smell of pine trees always made me feel at home. Many a winter night we had pine logs roasting in the fireplace, while we sat nearby reading or playing games. The television was rarely on in our house growing up, and even now it was primarily only used to watch a sporting event.

“Why were there no girls at my house?” I finally broke the silence to draw attention to the odd breakfast and meeting that had taken place.

“I’m not sure. I had wondered that same thing. There are women angels, so I would assume that Nephilim can be either sex, but I could be wrong. It could also be this group of Nephilim’s way of protecting their daughters.”

That made sense. It was most likely their protection, as I had seen first-hand how overprotective they could be. The memories of Tim and me growing up were beginning to make more and more sense. I always thought that we were merely a close family, but I was beginning to see how my dad encouraged our relationship all along. He would always be coming up with games or activities for us.

Typically it would be something that I could not handle completely on my own and Tim would have to help me. Like the time we went rock climbing when I was eleven. Instead of having us go on the children’s rock, my dad kept insisting for us to get on the intermediate level. We had two ropes, right next to each other. Tim had to give me a boost at least three times, as I was not physically tall enough to grab the next hold. The workers kept muttering “I told you so” but my dad ignored them, only enthusiastically cheering as we eventually both made it

to the top. Without words, my dad was teaching Tim to always look out for me and for me to want his help.

Or how Tim and Anthony were always with Ashley and I. It was a very rare time when just the two of us girls would leave our houses alone. I had always thought it was because neither of us had our own car and that it would change once the boys left for college, but now I began wondering if it would have really changed.

A hand lightly touched my elbow about a half hour into our hike, bringing me back to the present. Turning, I saw Jeremiah smile and motion to the left. I had never been that way, as it was off the trail and away from the lakes, but I trusted him. Unintentionally and irretrievably I had fallen for him. Now, to find out a bit more about this specimen that was taking my heart.

“Where did you move from?” My question echoed around us.

“Chicago.”

That was not at all what I was expecting, but I had guessed somewhere distant. I was just thinking more European. His English was flawless, but at certain times I almost caught an old-English accent, reminding me of Shakespearian times or something. “Why did you come here?” It wasn’t meant in a demeaning way; I was just curious.

He opened his mouth – eyes betraying his frustration – and closed it again. Opening it again, “I can’t” seemed to breathlessly escape.

This was not going well. I thought that I could do a relationship, knowing that some things were not going to be known. I had figured it would be like dating a CIA operative or an undercover cop. It should have been exciting and adventurous. Maybe I was not fit to do those things either.

“Miah, I can’t do this. I can’t have a relationship with someone that I don’t even know. Someone I CAN’T know.” Of course fate would give me the perfect guy, who for whatever reason seemed to like me, and not allow us to be together.

“Relationship?” Man, I could not believe I was so dense. I made the worst mistake any girl could make, bringing the “R” word into things.

“I mean, I just want to get to know you. And I can’t even know why you moved? Who makes these dumb rules anyway?”

He could tell I was backpedaling from the relationship comment and came to my rescue. Turning me to face him, he grabbed me by my waist and held fast. “I am not scared of a relationship, Coda. In fact, for the first time in my existence, I actually would like someone to know me. I want to open up to you. To have you know me – the best and the worst – well, it would be nothing less than a reason to continue living. I know that you are upset and that it doesn’t make sense, but please don’t give up on me. If it’s any consolation, I’m upset, too. But I learned the hard way a long time ago, it is always better to trust that there is a bigger and better plan in play.”

I gave up trying to hold onto my argument while looking at him. I could not stand against those eyes, so I stared over his shoulder instead. “I don’t want to give up on you, I just don’t know how to go on. How can we begin a relationship that is so one-sided? You know, or at least can find out, everything about me. I ask a simple question about your background and get shut out.”

No longer upset at this point, I solely felt sickeningly discouraged. This was doomed to fail. I hadn’t even realized where we were until I felt Jeremiah stiffen next to me. “I guess this kind of ruins the day, huh?” He broke away from me at that point and, faster than I could track, punched a nearby pine. The boom shattered whatever calm we had acquired.

Staring incredulously, I slowly approached his shaking form. He tensed before relaxing when my hand came in with his shoulder. The tree had fared much worse. There was a hole straight through it. The inside edges of the hole were darkened and looked burnt. Jeremiah caught my hand prior to me touching it. “Don’t, you’ll get burned.”

“Wow. What in the world?”

“I’m sorry, Coda. I had no excuse to lose my temper like that. And especially in front of you. Forgive me.”

Words were beyond me at that moment, so I stared into his troubled eyes. What just happened?

I had no idea, but I did know that above all else, I hated seeing him like this. He was the one who had been getting me through all of this insanity the past week. The thought of possibly talking with him or a sly glance had been my happiness. As much as I didn’t want to be hurt and I felt like I was getting into something bound to fail, I also am not one who gives up easily. Many call it stubborn. I call it persistent. At this point, I did not know anything about him besides rumors and that he came from Chicago. How long he had been in Chicago and why, I had no idea.

“Ok, here’s how it is. I don’t want to let someone else run our lives. I don’t know who or what you are, but I want to. However long that takes and in whatever form I can get it. We’ll have to think of how to get around the rules.”

“You can’t.”

I chuckled at that. His depressed tone illustrated exactly how little he knew me.

“Watch me.” With that, I finally looked around us. Besides the holey tree, the place was picture-perfect. No waterfall this time, but a stream cutting through about an eight-foot patch of flowers. I was afraid to move, knowing that doing so would trample many. I pictured an elderly couple, coming to this exact spot every year, scattering thousands of wildflower seeds just because that is what they did, and it made me smile involuntarily. Their end result, I continued to imagine, being this small meadow that now grew naturally with an overabundant amount of glory. With that thought, I ed I was not alone. There were others out there, struggling to survive, but all the while trying to make the earth a more beautiful place.

Chapter 10

“Let’s take a walk. You can show me some of your memories and I’ll show you some of mine.” ~Adam Berlin, The Number of Missing~

“So, I have a theory.” His uneasy expression had me hurrying to continue. “No wait, hear me out here. I think that the big man upstairs may not want me knowing certain things that could change how I act in situations. But they say hindsight is 20/20, right? So, what if I just process out loud or ask questions about what has already happened?”

“Coda, we tried this. You were asking what I did before when I got shut up. It wasn’t the future.”

“Let’s try, Miah.”

Uneasily he mumbled, “Okay.”

“So. Before you couldn’t talk to me but now it’s ok. Why?”

“Your dad moved you here for a certain reason, Coda. This town in particular. He’s trying to keep you and your brother hidden amongst the masses.” The living room full of people that morning came rushing to my memory. “The angel who is after you, Sariel, is a lower class of angel. He wants you to up his status, for lack of a better description. In the beginning he did not know that you were the exact girl he wanted. I was sent to keep watch, but had I begun spending all my time with you and watching you, we would have signaled to Sariel that you were the girl he wanted.”

I almost lost my train of thought at the sly smile he threw me. “But the distance thing didn’t really work, did it?”

“No. Sariel has somehow found it is you in particular that he needs – hence the attack after school. When it was found that he was targeting you specifically, I was told to guard closely. I am thinking of sending Sariel a “Thank You” card or something, as I have gotten the better end of the deal.”

Pulling me close, I caught myself thinking his idea wasn’t so bad. I have definitely gotten the best end of this whole thing, though. My eyes closed as I relaxed into his embrace and didn’t open again until my legs began protesting standing still. I once again took in the beauty around us. Jeremiah was watching my face expectantly.

“Thank you. It’s so serene and calm and once again, it’s just what I needed. How did you know?”

“You need to that good always triumphs. For how much bad is in the world, you can always find good if you look enough. I know because I often need the same reminder.” With that profound statement, he slipped his right arm and caught me under my knees. I fell back with a laugh and a squeal only to be lifted like an infant into his arms.

“There’s no use trampling it with two sets of footprints.” With one leap we were on a tiny strip of sand that I had not even noticed existed next to the stream. About 20 feet upstream there was a bubbling spot where it was being fed by some underground source.

He set me on my feet again and pulled a backpack off of his back. I hadn’t even seen him put it on. He must have been dying, trying to keep up with me on the fast pace I had set coming here, but he never once complained. Further thinking

of it made me notice that, when he had picked me up, he was not sweaty in the least. I prayed my Secret shower fresh deodorant was holding up to the task.

“Take this,” a corner of a red and white plaid blanket was thrust in my face. I don’t know of anyone outside of a TV show or movie who actually had a picnic on a red and white plaid blanket. We set the blanket down and he proceeded to pull out desserts. All desserts. Oreo cheesecake, cherry pie, Jell-O, and the fudgiest brownies I had ever seen. A large piece of each sat in a clear Tupperware container. Jeremiah held out a spoon to me. “Dig in,” he smiled.

It was the best picnic I had ever had. He had even brought a thermos of cold milk and another of hot coffee! We washed the last crumbs down with our coffee prior to packing up. The flowers had all but closed as the sun was setting, and I was starting to get chilly.

“What’s your favorite color?”

Startled out of my reverie, I responded on instinct “yellow.” Man, he must have thought I was such a sap. Why couldn’t I say blue or red or even purple? No one’s favorite color is yellow. “It makes me feel happy. Like sunshine. I love the mountains because I am that much closer to the sun.”

“Makes sense.”

Why does that make sense? I chickened out of saying it.

“What’s yours?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about it before.” Well, at least I got an answer from him.

“Where is your favorite place to be?” At some point he had snatched my hand, and, with his question, held my gaze while walking next to me down the narrow path.

“There aren’t many places that I have been. I would have to say here. I like the quiet, the stillness of the mountains. I can’t imagine living without them. I do want to travel though. I’d love to go to Italy. Venice specifically, but sometimes I think of running away to the Italian Alps. I’d have the mountains and Italy all in one. Of course, I could never leave my dad or Tim.”

“Someday we’ll go to Italy. I think you’d like it very much.”

“You’ve been?” I was so jealous. Jeremiah had done so many things. What on earth he saw in me I could not even guess.

“Only ing through. Prior to this, I haven’t lived in any place for a long time. I had forgotten how much I liked to settle.”

“I thought you were in Chicago?”

“I was, for a night. Paris the night before that, Moscow before that, the list keeps going.”

“Is there anywhere you haven’t been?”

“No. But it’s always a sad occasion when I am somewhere. I am not a wellliked” I thought he would continue with “person” after that, but he didn’t continue. By the time I looked up at him, he too strongly stressed, “I’m not wellliked.”

I wondered what he was going to say. He’s not a well-liked what? I knew the gaps in his speech were bothering him though, so I kept on as if I had not noticed the missing article when he repeated his sentence.

“Who on earth couldn’t like you? And WHY? How would they even know they didn’t like you if you were only there a day?”

A pause followed prior to him saying, “Looks like it’s against the rules to answer. I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times I can say ‘I would if I could’ before you will go running.”

Gently compressing his hand in mine was the only reassurance I could give. The truth was, I didn’t really know myself. I wanted things to work but could feel the growing frustration. If only I could punch holes through trees. That had to have been a good stress-relief!

“Ok, your family?”

“I’m alone now. Have been for a long time.” How come I got the feeling his “long time” was way beyond a normal “long time?”

“How old are you?” I ignored where I was walking, knowing he would lead me safely, as I watched his face. I was not let down.

He scrunched his nose and pulled down his eyebrows prior to replying, “Old.”

That one word held such significance. At that point, I realized a few things. The first was that I could get answers from Jeremiah. I only had to learn to read him better and to pay attention to what his body language was saying. After all, they say verbal communication is only 10% of communication. I needed to understand his face as a blind person would. Through touch and feeling I would know him. The second thing I realized was that he was not only mature for his age, as I had thought prior. He was at least as old as my dad, and possibly very old. Was he hundreds of years old?

The third realization: I was way out of my league.

Chapter 11

“In Heaven an angel is nobody in particular.” ~George Bernard Shaw~

My dad greeted us upon our arrival into the kitchen. “Coda, go put your coat in your room.”

“I don’t have my coat, Dad.”

“Just give us a minute please, Sweetheart?” Knowing that his exaggerated tone would soon lead to anger, I opted to obey.

“Okey-dokey.” I was about to find out if my other information-getting plan would work. I knew they couldn’t talk to me about things, but what if I overheard them talking to each other? Originally I was going to set a recorder in the living room and kitchen, but the new situation opened up a possibility of sitting on the steps, out of sight, instead.

“Jeremiel, tell me the truth. Why are you here? Are you going to take her from me? I will fight to my death, and I do not want to hurt you.” His protective words sounded more deathly resigned than I liked. What on earth was he talking about – Jeremiah taking me, and why would he have a conversation like this over our dining room table?

“I only know that I am to protect her. There was nothing of the future, so I cannot tell you one way or another without lying. At this point though, my instructions were that Sariel was a danger and was beyond control from his powers-that-be. So, our side had to step in and protect the innocent. I do not know why I was sent.”

“I am no longer on your side, you forget.”

“Penemue, you are closer than you believe. I bet that you will be back on our side before long. I see how you love. That is not a sign of the fallen. You know this intellectually. Rely on that and not emotions.”

“Hello?”

Crap!

They must have figured out someone was listening, so quickly I took my leave, making sure to miss the creaky fifth step on the way up. Bying my room, I entered the bathroom, where I proceeded to press a warm washcloth across to my face. I breathed in the moist, hot air through the cloth and ed a trip we once took to Disney. Life was so simple then. It was still supposed to be simple, but somehow, at sixteen, I was thrust into the middle of an ageless war.

Florida – maybe life would still be easy in Florida.

My dad had gotten a timeshare from one of his long-standing customers, which put us right outside of Disney World. To save money – I wondered if it was also to keep our names off a flight manifest and off the radar – we drove the whole way there. We had never done anything like that before and never did again. Looking back, I could now understood that our lack of experiences throughout childhood was purely for safety’s sake. That trip, though, was one I have always reflected on with longing. The vacation itself was simple. The three of us stayed in the timeshare, went to the pool, one day drove over an hour to go to the ocean, and another day went to Disney. We didn’t have the money to go to Disney every day, but Tim and I were overjoyed with the one day we got.

“Coda?”

Jostled out of a 5th grade Disney dream, I nearly dropped the cold washcloth. I had been in there longer than I thought. “Yeah, I’ll be right out.”

When I got out, Jeremiah was no longer in the hall. I figured correctly though, because when I opened my door he was staring at me from my bed.

“My dad’s ok with you up here now?”

“I guess so. He didn’t try to stop me.” His smile always caught me off guard. I put my arm against the doorframe, aiming at casual, but, as usual, I’m sure he saw through me. “You were listening.”

I did not feel remotely bad for listening nor for being caught. “Yeah. And I learned more than I could have from either of you had I asked.”

“It’s a good plan. I shouldn’t have doubted your ability to get around rules. I’m sure your mother left you the book within your genes.”

The mention of my mother twisted my stomach in a way that I did not want to re-examine at this moment. I knew I would need a front and center look at his face before I asked, so I sat Indian-style facing him on my bed. “Is my dad an angel as well?”

The question popped out of my mouth before I could examine from where it actually came. I had been running the idea around in my head for a while, only finally putting it completely together at the same time as speaking it aloud. He had to have been an angel. That was how my mom knew him. Why my mom had to leave and he got to stay was beyond me, but in the bottom of my soul, I knew that my dad was an angel as well. Jeremiah’s next word though, was another world shaker.

“Fallen.”

Just like that, the sliver of hope was completely gone. How could my dad be like Sariel? No, he must be wrong. But he wasn’t. I read it in his face even before I heard the word come out of his mouth. My dad was a fallen angel. I didn’t know what happened or why, but he was lost. No, I refuse to look at my dad as “lost.”

“Wait, you said he was close. Is that what you were talking about? Is he close to redemption? Can that even happen? How? What can I do?”

“Yes.” He wanted to say more but couldn’t. I was guessing that the “yes” then went for the questions that could have been answered by a “yes” or a “no.” I will just have to figure out what I can do on my own to help.

“I guess that’s all the information for tonight, huh?”

I got a small smile and nod at that. He hated this as much as I did. I took the clue and stretched out beside where he was sitting on the bed. “Lay with me.”

A few minutes ed in a heavy silence. If my mom is an angel, and my dad is – or should I say “was” now that he is fallen – does that make me an angel? Do angels really have baby angels like the cherubs that you see all around on Valentine’s Day?

The bed dipped as he settled in prior to me trying again.

“Does the group that was here know that I am full-blooded angel?” I figured I would try a different line of questioning and see if it got me any further conversation. Is full-blooded angel even a thing?

“No!” I did not have much time to dissect why he was so assuredly saying “no” before he continued. “I do not think that there are many in this world that do. I have no idea how Sariel found out, but I can only guess it was from some record of your mother’s when she was here. That woman and her journals. Why anyone keeps one is beyond me. It’s just asking for trouble!”

“Why do they think that he is after me then? And how is it that my dad is in their Nephilim club?” Since they knew my mom was angel, they must have thought my dad was normal. That way, I would be only half angel and not full. Maybe they did not even know my mom was fully angel and only thought we were descendants of Nephilim. If they did not know the rarity of my blood, why do they think Sariel is after me then? My questions were following my mind in jumping from one topic to the next.

“Well, that goes back to why I think the reason they don’t allow women into their group is for the protection of the women. And that, I believe, is why your father chose this town over any other Nephilim group. He wanted to keep you

safe and apart from the spiritual world. Especially you. He is allowed into their group because he has Nephilim children who no longer have their angelicblooded parent. This is all speculation on my part, but knowing your dad like I do, I would guess I am correct.”

“You’ve known him for a while, huh?”

“Yeah.” The silence stretched again as I watched him drift inward towards his memories.

Twenty minutes later, when Tim hesitantly knocked on my door, we were still lying there, taking in the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling and scrutinizing the deeply intelligent topic of why Adam Sandler was a far better actor than Jim Carrey.

“Dad said you’d be here.” He looked as if he wanted to do some major damage on Jeremiah but held back. I was glad, because if any of my theories were correct, Jeremiah could seriously hurt Tim, and there was no way I was going to sit back and let that happen. He may be overprotective, but he was my older brother, and I could be a bit overprotective of him as well.

“Did you know Dad was a fallen angel?” Figuring the only way to avoid any uncomfortable topic Tim was bound to bring up, I cut right to the chase.

This information brought him up short. “No, you’re wrong.”

“Oh really? Go ask him. And make sure you have a view of his face because I’m sure he won’t be allowed to answer you directly. Look in his eyes, Tim.”

“I will. Later. I just wanted to check on you.” I could tell he wasn’t trusting of the situation like my dad was and wouldn’t leave Jeremiah and me in my room alone unless I placed a severe kick in his behind.

“Tim. I’m fine. Nothing even PG rated is happening. Please trust me and get out of my room. I love you, but really…”

He must have seen the promised violence in my eyes, because he quickly turned and left without another word. At least he had the self-control to quietly close my door behind him.

“He just loves you, you know. He’s worried that I don’t deserve you and that I will end up hurting you. He’s right to worry.”

“Hey, now, no moping allowed. If it’s anything, he’s wrong because he has it backwards. I in no way deserve you. But I trust you will not intentionally hurt me. If we all spend our lives trying to do everything to prevent getting hurt, we will also never love. It would be a boring, straight road to nowhere. Life can’t have ups if there aren’t any downs.”

I had watched people grow up in that town, grow older, dream big dreams of white dresses and getting out, all the while never even leaving to go to college. They were so afraid of what might be out there that they spent their lives looking at the world by through their TV screens. They may never even get any version of a white dress because the men their ages had all married or left town.

It did no one any good to live life afraid of being hurt. Life was going to hurt at times and one had to accept that because, without any pain, love would never be so good. You cannot have the good without the bad. I had a bad feeling I would be regretting the profoundness of my statement soon.

It was another few minutes before either of us spoke. “Coda, what if I hurt you? I have two options, and from what I can tell, both will hurt you.”

“Then don’t choose. We’ll figure it out. , I am the queen, well the princess, of bending the rules.”

He replied with a smile, a quick kiss on my cheek, and an “I’ll see you tomorrow at church.”

“Fourth pew from the front on the left.” That got me an additional smile prior to the door closing on his back. I figured I had a few minutes to change, so I hurriedly threw on some yoga pants and a T-shirt of Tim’s and jumped back into bed. Quicker than I expected, I fell asleep to Jack Johnson singing about waking up slow.

“AHHHH!” My cry was less of terror and more of sheer frustration. Will this never end? I was so tired. “GOD, give me a break! Please!”

I had six hours till church started so I began my routine slowly. Finally, I was shaved, moisturized, manicured, pedicured, and had absolutely nothing to do. I had just crashed back against my pillows as a light knock came on my door. Leary, but curious, I was surprised when my dad’s tentative “You up, Baby?” came through.

“Yeah, come on in dad.” He obviously knew I was awake, and I was longing to talk to him anyway.

How someone so graceful managed to look apprehensive, I was not sure. “Look, I hate to pull the dad card, but we got to talk.”

I patted the bed next to where I was lying and waited for him to go on. Once he got settled, he continued.

“Sweetheart, I’m worried. I know that you care for Jeremiel and are growing to care more. He is a likeable - - well it’s plain impossible not to like him once you get to know him. He and I used to be very close.” I did not miss the pause after “a likeable” and again wondered how Jeremiah fit into this. My dad was struggling for the right words, and not because of some higher force. This was pure, dad-daughter talk uneasiness.

“Dad.”

“No, I need to keep going or I won’t ever be able to. I’m not good at this, Coda. You’ve always made it so easy. You just did the right thing.” Quickly backpedaling, he threw in, “Not that you are doing the wrong thing now, it’s just that no boys ever seemed to catch your attention before. I never had to worry about things, and now that one has caught your attention, you fall for an angel.”

“WHAT?!?!?” The cat had just flown out of the bag. There was no graceful fall of this cat. And I had NOT seen it coming. “Jeremiah’s an angel? Is that what

everyone has been hinting around but could never say?” I should have figured it out. My dad was one and now my kind-of-boyfriend was one. According to blood, I guess I was one too. I had always thought Jeremiah was just some type of liaison between the angelic community and humans. Trying to imagine my dad and Jeremiah with wings, walking on streets of gold, only made me come up with a stained-glass version that I am positive wasn’t reality.

The crickets outside my window screamed into my otherwise silent room. It looked like my dad would have walked out and tried to forget the whole conversation, had he been able to. I do not think that he expected to be able to say it and therefore did not think he would have to monitor his words. My dad and Jeremiah knew each other for a long time. Yeah, like eternity. Jeremiah was an angel. What was I? “Am I an angel?” I looked him straight in the eyes as I said it.

“Of course, I explained about your mother.” Of course, like there was nothing unusual or wrong about this picture.

“No, Dad. Am I a full-angel?” Even though I already, from the bottom of my heart, knew the answer, I still examined his face while asking.

“Yes.” The completely dejected way in which he spoke broke my heart.

“Oh, Daddy!” I threw myself in his arms. “It’s going to be ok. Jeremiah thinks there is a way that you can get back, well, not be fallen anymore. Wait, is he fallen?”

Again, the cut-off face. I guess it was more information than I was used to getting and I should have been happy about that, but I wasn’t. It just triggered million different questions.

“Dad, when did you fall?” It felt weird talking like this to my dad. We had always been open but how does one approach their dad about a topic of his own downfall from grace? And I thought it had been uncomfortable that one time when I asked if he had ever smoked pot. I wanted to look at my dad like the hero he always had been in my eyes. I hated to see him so downtrodden.

“We measured time differently back then, but I believe they are saying that it was about 2450 BC. This is a little different for me, as I have never talked openly about it before. Tim never really asked questions regarding my past, and he did not know until recently that he was an angel. He just thought that he was Nephilim. I believe I have you to thank for divulging the truth. Thank you, Sweetie. He needed to know as much as you did.”

It was true. The amazing, caring, self-sacrificing man that raised me – my father – was a fallen angel. Hearing it from his mouth was almost as bad as when I first found out. The jagged rocks in my gut cut into my insides. My brain checked out as my body continued without acknowledging the lack of information from above. It felt as if I were looking in on someone else’s life.

Having the energy zapped out of me, I collapsed on my duvet, turning to lay my head on his lap. My dad still felt the same. His fingers in my hair were the same as they had always been. I refused to believe that he could have done something so bad as to get him kicked out of heaven. “But, why? I mean, why did you fall? I know that the Bible talks about angels falling for women, but what about Mom? Didn’t you know her? Why would you leave heaven and her, for earth?”

“I didn’t want to leave your mother, nor did I want to leave heaven.” The longing was clear as day, as he looked into my eyes. One would think after thousands of years he would feel differently, but he still did not feel at home here. It hurt me more than it should have that he ached so for her. I knew my jealousy was irrational, but how could he miss something else so much when Tim and I were right here in front of him?

I tried to quiet down my jealousy to listen to him continue. “And yes, she always has been my other half. These past eleven years have been the best and the worst of my life. You see I have you and your brother. That is something that I couldn’t have even dreamt of before. But, I am completely isolated from your mother. It seems I am without my soul. It broke my heart to watch you hate her.”

I did not want to get onto that subject with him, so I steered him back on track. “Why then? If it wasn’t the women, why did you fall?”

“Knowledge. Reading. Literature.” Waiting for him to collect his thoughts, I tried unsuccessfully to decode what he was talking about. Knowledge? How is knowledge bad? “You see,” he absentmindedly twirled a strand of my blonde hair “I could not stand seeing them without knowledge. That was my sin. I taught man to write. I wanted them to record their history and stories. They needed to learn from their mistakes, or so I thought. Instead, as He knew it would, it made them thirsty for knowledge alone. They ignored God after that, only longing for their own ions. That was my sin, my downfall. Assuming I knew better.

“For thousands of years I wished to take it back. I begged, cried, and screamed. I do not know of anyone – well possibly Jeremiel – that repented as I. But then she followed me here – I saw her for the first time in forever, outside of my dreams. Somehow, your mom found a way around my banishment. And she gave me Timothy. Then she gave me you. Now, even though I miss her more than I could begin to express, I can no longer wish to take back my sin. Because

without having sinned and fallen, I wouldn’t have you two. You know you both are special. You are the only angels who have ever grown up. You are full-blood angels, yet somehow being born on earth you inherited the ability to live and have free-will as humans do.”

Not knowing what to say, I lay there without moving, mesmerized by him playing with my hair. It was as if I were a kid again and we had not just had a life-shattering, obscure conversation about heavenly beings.

“You know your mother always said your hair was a piece of heaven brought down to earth.”

Not wanting to talk about my mom, I did not respond. He either did not get my hint or ignored my silence.

“She loved you more than life, you know? I am sure, were there any other option besides to fall; she would have been here with you. She only did not take that option because she knew I would take care of you both.”

There are certain conversations that I do not want to acknowledge, yet need to at the same time. It’s like someone saying; “Don’t think about pink elephants,” and then all you can think of is pink elephants. My dad knew me well enough to know that I had been avoiding imagining my mom as a caring mother. He also recognized that he had planted the seed in my mind, and I needed my own time to digest it. Thoughts of my “pink elephant” swam through my mind. Time ed slowly but peacefully with him twirling my hair. I wished we could have stayed like that forever, never having to face the day. He again broke the silence, but this time with a much less mind-boggling topic, well given the unusual situation.

“I used to be a healer. I wanted to heal their ignorance. But I messed it up more.”

I took a minute to process this. For some reason, the night I had no dream popped into my head. “Did you heal my concussion?”

“Yes.”

“Did you know that you also healed my dreams for that night?”

“That’s impossible. I couldn’t have. I haven’t had that much power for millennia.” I knew, though, that he was wrong. How else had I gone all night without a dream when it hadn’t happened in months and nothing else had changed?

“Dad, why would it be bad for me to be with Jeremiah? It seems you think very highly of him and he is the ONLY person in the whole world who would understand what I’m going through.” Yet no one seems to even like him. I am the only person in this house who cares beyond tolerance.

“I think you should ask him. Since I was allowed to tell you he is an angel, I’m guessing he’ll now be allowed to elaborate.”

Church took the same amount of time my dad had been on this earth. Millennia. My dad had actually shot me a couple “quit it” glances as I fidgeting through the whole service. I had even managed to shove the angel subject into the back of

my head. Instead, I was preoccupied with Jeremiah and why on earth I had seen him whispering with my archenemy – Breah.

Practically jumping out of the car before it was parked, I had run into the small, schoolhouse-looking white building. Upon entering the foyer, I immediately saw the back of Jeremiah’s to-die-for ebony locks and started for him. It wasn’t until I was about three feet away that I saw he was cornered with Breah, earnestly talking about something I could not hear. Stopping abruptly and turning away, I strode to our seat and planted myself directly between my dad and Tim. With my dad being on the outside of our pew, and Anthony sitting by Tim, it left Jeremiah to sit two people down from me when he arrived a moment later at our pew. He kept trying to catch my attention, which I very pointedly ignored, instead landing him on the receiving end of many displeased looks from Anthony.

Jeremiah could tell he was in the doghouse, because immediately after church he approached and asked my dad if he could take me to lunch. Since Sundays were usually a family day, I counted on my dad saying no and did not break my silence by responding. Unfortunately, my dad let me down. Shooting my dad a glare, I followed Jeremiah to the car in silence. Even after he started it and began down the lane leading to Main Street, neither of us said a thing.

“Ok, what? What’s wrong? I can’t handle this silence.”

“We spend a lot of time in silence, you’ve never said anything before.”

“Yeah, we do. We spend a lot of time in amicable silence. We have yet to spend time in angry silence. I am not unintelligent Coda. What is it?”

Who says “unintelligent?” Can’t you just our century and say “dumb” or “stupid?”

As we sat there, my anger went from betrayal to irrational. I skirted around the real issue and merely grunted, “Are you fallen or not?”

“What? How do you know I am either?”

Even though I was angry, I managed to make it through my conversation with my dad that morning and his accidental slip about Jeremiah’s of angelic status.

“He was right to let me talk to you. I didn’t think my respect for him could grow, but it grows daily.”

“Yeah, he’s the best.” Why was he not answering my question? What was the big problem? A yes or a no would suffice. I mean, I had a parent in each category, so who was I to judge?

“I am no longer fallen.”

“No longer?”

“You know how I said before that there was hope for your dad? Well, there is, and I am an example of it. I had fallen prior to the flood. Immediately regretting it, I spent approximately the next 2,000 years trying to atone for it. I did every

good thing I could possibly do. I listened and obeyed everything. Finally, after offering my life for a man who hated me, I was given grace. I was restored to my previous status and given my old job back.”

That was not so bad, if anything it had given me a hope for my dad. “Why were both you and my dad nervous to tell me that?”

“It’s not that part that makes me nervous.” I stilled his hand before he tore the hole in the knee of his pants any bigger. I would have grabbed the steering wheel for fear that he was going to break it with his grip, as his knuckles were white, but I restrained myself from leaning over and placing both of my hands on his. After all, I was still angry about the Breah betrayal.

“Ok, well spit it out.”

“Did you know I am also called Remiel? That is the name that I am most called in heaven. Have you ever heard of the archangel Remiel?” After a quick shake of my head, he continued. “My name means the ‘mercy or hope of God.’ I have a few jobs, including giving home to the faithful who need.” The dramatic pauses were killing me!

“The other job I have is to guide the good souls to heaven. I am often called the angel of death.”

“So you are the shining light they see before they die?” Either I was completely missing something important, or they did not understand what would upset me at all.

“Coda,” I could tell that he was exasperated by that point and my lack of response. He even pulled off the road to face me. “Coda, I was sent to watch over you.”

“And?” He just stared at me.

It felt like an hour of him watching me and not saying anything before I finally understood. They were worried that the proof I was soon going to die was that Jeremiah was there. “Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not dying. I am just fine here and will not just roll-over.”

A small smile escaped the corner of his mouth. “I guess you aren’t mad?”

“Oh, I’m mad all right. In fact, I’m beyond words. But not because you’re the angel of death, or that you were fallen and are no longer, or that my mother is an angel or that my father is a fallen angel, or even that my brother and I are the only angels in existence who are like humans in every other way.” I pushed his calming hands away from my face. I did not want to be calmed at that moment.

“I don’t understand.”

No, he wouldn’t. Guys never did understand. I realized that they never would unless you spell it out, and right then, I just didn’t want to take the effort.

“Well, you may as well start driving again and think while you drive. I’m

hungry.”

I could tell he was offended, but I didn’t care. Let him figure it out.

“Help me. Please.” Twenty minutes later we were pulling into a town where no one would know or notice us, and he had yet to figure it out.

“Think this morning before church.” With that, I slammed the door and walked into the Chinese restaurant. I wasn’t sure if he wanted the Chinese restaurant or the burger t next door, but I did not give him an option to choose. I rarely get angry, but when I am, everyone knows it. Particularly the one who has angered me.

Chapter 12

“Any fool can know. The point is to understand.” ~Albert Einstein~

Jeremiah recovered and made it to the door. Even through his frustration he was forever the gentleman, as he opened it and ushered me inside. His polite ways only infuriated me more. I was having difficulty staying angry when he kept being so nice. That annoyed me.

I didn’t even say thank you, but instead said “Table for two,” when the hostess appeared with menus. To prevent me from saying “preferably two tables,” I bit down on my tongue so hard I tasted blood when I swallowed. We walked behind the hostess to our table and sat on opposite sides of the booth. I think the hostess was trying to set us in a romantic setting, because it seemed we were in the darkest corner of the building, snuggled next to a roaring fireplace. Only in Colorado are there fireplaces in a Chinese restaurant. I had hoped there would be a buffet to help me avoid his piercing gaze, but there was none.

“Coda.”

I stared at the swinging doors, hiding the kitchen from the rest of the restaurant.

“Coda.” This time, he was an inch away from my face. I had to look at him. “Did you see me talking to that girl at church?”

“Give him a star!” He actually figured it out on his own.

“And that’s what this is all about?” His incredulous tone further infuriated me. I was so furious my eyes were watering. Turning my face away to hide my tears, I gave myself a minute to gain control.

“Have you ever heard about her and me?” Realizing at that moment that he had only been here for two months, I wondered what he actually knew. I had all these suspicions about him being in A because of her dad and not being allowed to talk to me because of her family, but in reality, maybe he didn’t know anything. I may have just started our first fight over absolutely nothing. But why were they whispering then? Did he like her?

“What? No!” I grasped a second too late that I had blurted those last questions out loud, making me look like an extremely jealous girlfriend. “No, I like you Coda – just you. I thought I had made myself clear on that, but I can see you still don’t understand.”

“Why were you talking to her?”

“Seriously? I was talking to her about you. I knew you were in the same class and hoped she knew you. I wanted to find out more about you. Instead she spurted off all this hate-Coda stuff and tried to get me to ask her out. She was so horrible to talk to, I left her standing there to come and find you.”

“So, you’ve never talked to her at school before?”

“Truth is, I don’t really go to school. I only go where I can protect you. I’m at our lockers, and the other time I’m watching you. You are the reason I am on earth right now, literally, and I take my job serious. I know what it’s like to mess up.”

“I feel like such an idiot.” I am a jealous girlfriend – or whatever I was to him. Man, what is happening? I am becoming every girl that I said I would never be!

“You are.” When the full-on smile emerged, I knew I was forgiven.

“I’m sorry. I guess I don’t really have to hide my self-esteem issues anymore.”

“Scoot over, Beautiful.” He ed me on my side of the booth. “And Coda, you have absolutely no reason to have low self-esteem.”

What had originally been a splinter in my thumb now became exactly what the wonderful hostess had meant it to be – a quiet, romantic dinner. We ate, laughed, and tried to stay away from topics like angels or death.

Death however, continued to be a main topic on my mind that day. My death, my mom’s, life after in general. I could not stop thinking about it all. Try as I may, I don’t think I fooled Jeremiah. It was at the point where I was wondering if my mom actually died or was just “snap,” taken back, when I finally gained control of my thoughts. I didn’t want to ruin our carefree afternoon, so I not only forced my thoughts on the present, but I also never asked his opinion.

Upon getting into the car after ice cream and feeding the Canadian geese in a park, my newfound reality hit. My “I’m a regular girl out on a nice date with her boyfriend” feeling was stolen away with an “I’m being watched and am next in line for this serial killer” hard-hitting punch in the gut!

I was about to sit down in the Mustang, when I felt the hair on my neck stand on end. I went rigid, but tried to hide it by quickly dropping into the car. Jeremiah was in the car in less than a second, so I don’t think I hid it well. Apparently, either I was a horrible actress or he was just so attentive to me that he noticed the smallest things. Playing like I was only putting on my seatbelt, I looked over my right shoulder and saw him.

He was dressed in the same Armani gray suit, staring at me from a park bench not 25 feet away. Not wanting to set off a fight and nervous as to what Sariel would do, I said nothing to Jeremiah. In my peripheral vision, I saw him waive to me at the last second. Creepy!

It wasn’t until we were twenty minutes down the road that I told Jeremiah.

“WHAT?!?!?” I immediately became worried that either my head would fly off my shoulders, or I would get severe whiplash from stopping so fast. My hands slapped the dashboard to prevent my face from making a much more crunching sound.

“GEEZ MIAH! That hurt! You may be invincible, but it remains to be proven that I am. Try slowing down at a reasonable rate next time.” Rubbing my red palms, I looked into his furious eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you were going to react like this! Also, we were leaving. And I may be a coward, but I don’t want to face him. Even more so, I don’t want you to face him. He’s bigger and much meaner than you are. I think he wants what he

wants more than you, which gives him an emotional advantage.” What Sariel wanted most was me.

“Believe me, he definitely does not want what he wants more than I do.” At least he had let his foot off the brake and had started driving again by that point.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” And really, how could you want me that badly? The man is stalking me and wants to kidnap me! Not wanting to offend him, I did not share my latter thoughts.

“You are the unknown, Coda. No one knows what the rules are around you. We angels live and die by rules. It’s how we are. You can’t begin to fathom living forever. There is no time – solely existence. Our guidelines - our rules – are what make us. We know what we can and can’t do. That was one of the things that was so astonishing about man and caused us to fall. There are rules, but humans can choose to ignore them. We had never thought of going against what was before the first fall.

“I am going through a falling for a second time. It’s different this time because I don’t know the rules. You see, I’ve fallen – for you, Coda. Bad. But since you are not a human, I have not broken any ‘rules’ by loving you. That, on top of your possible death, makes everyone nervous in allowing me near you.”

Jeremiah had just said he loved me. But I wasn’t sure if I loved him. I knew that I liked him a lot and couldn’t imagine my life without him at this point, but was that love? What about the rest of my life without him? Just because he understood me at that moment did not mean that he would forever. Can I fall in love at sixteen? Realizing that he was waiting for any response from me, I only replied, “This sucks. Why is it that humans are allowed free-reign and angels have all these rules? Why can’t I just like without worrying that I am the reason

you would become a fallen angel, damned for eternity?”

The battering of my brain should have been audible. I did love Jeremiah. But if I said those three words, would he expect eternity? And how could I promise eternity (or say something that would make him assume it) if it was something I couldn’t even wrap my mind around? What does eternity even mean?

It was at that moment that I realized something. I wasn’t sure if he was my soul mate or if I loved him as such, but I could not allow him to fall because of me. When angels originally fell, they fell for women. Everything I had read or heard said so. Some fell for other sins – like my dad – but the majority fell in love with human women. Both of my parents are angels, so as an angel, it would be acceptable for he and I to fall in love. The problem arose when considering the fact that I was also human to an extent – at least I was allowed free will like the humans did – not to mention the fact that I had never seen angelic wings sprouting out of my back. There was no way we would know for sure that Jeremiah could wholly love me without falling from grace. It was a gray area in a black and white existence. Even though I may not be ready to say that I loved him for eternity, I knew that I definitely cared strongly for him. It was because of this that I also grasped that I would do anything to prevent Jeremiah from falling a second time. He did not deserve that, and I would make sure he definitely would not go through that because of me.

“Jeremiah, we can’t be together.”

“What?” I guess I had abruptly changed the face of our conversation.

“I won’t allow even a slight possibility of you falling again, especially because of me. If the same rules apply to me as humans, then you will fall.” There was no way I could finish my thought. If he knew how much I cared and was only

pushing him away for his protection, he would never have allowed it. I did not have the strength to say anything beyond that.

It was as if I had timed it perfectly. The car had just stopped in the driveway so I jumped out, slamming the door. He was out of the car, but I ran by his stunned figure, raced around the store and into the house. I made it through the door and into the kitchen before falling to pieces on the daisy patterned linoleum.

I had no idea what time my dad finally came in, but he scooped me up and deposited me on my bed. He gave me a box of Kleenex and a cup of tea. I cried even harder at the reminder of Jeremiah making the same motions not too long before. The phone rang and he left. I turned on some music and tightly cradled my knees over the hole in my chest.

“That was Jeremiah.” I had never heard my dad call him Jeremiah. “He told me what happened.”

I made no move to reply, so he went on, “Coda, I know this hurts, but it had to happen. One day maybe you can be with him. But without prior approval and knowledge of what you are risking, it isn’t worth it.” With that, he slid off the bed and quietly closed the door.

Slowly time ed. It kept moving, whether I did or not. I didn’t sleep that night, instead content to watch the sun rise through blurry eyes. I stared directly into the sun, as if the pain in my eyes could somehow give a physical of the pain in my heart. Finally, I turned over. I couldn’t fight Sariel if I was blind. And he was going down. That much I knew. If I had to hurt that bad, I was going to make someone else hurt, too. Since I couldn’t even think of touching the big man upstairs, I’d go for the peon right here.

Chapter 13

“There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.” ~Willa Cather~

Sorrow is a personal thing. Not only does every person confront it differently, but they also choose whether or not to dwell in it. After that first night, I chose to ignore it. Well, I told myself that, but in reality, at night, when the lights were off, I let it overtake me. When I slept, my dream stayed the same. It was my only solace. For the first time since having it, I longed for my terrifying nightmare because at least in it, I was able to hear the sweetest voice on earth. Jeremiah still shouted at me to wake up. My solution was to fall back asleep for no other reason other than to hear his voice. Sometimes I endured the dream three times a night. It was my consolation in a starless existence.

On top of it all, I was upset at myself. I had once been so sure of everything. I knew who I was and whom I loved. Now, I felt like my world had collapsed, as if I could no longer walk and could barely crawl. Some days it was more of a “dragging myself through life” feeling. All over someone with whom I had spent so little time. Talking sense to your emotions seldom works, and it was no different this time. My world looked bleak, and, outside of begging Jeremiah to take me back, there was nothing that I could do differently.

I flat out refused to go to school the first three days. Not wanting to put on a fake smile and face the world, I completely dissected my room instead. I cleaned every nook and cranny and reorganized once every day. Pushing my dresser and bed around my room gave my arms the ache that compressed my heart. My room had originally only been something to do, but as soon as I began, I knew I needed to change it. Everything inside reminded me of Jeremiah – which was ironic as he had only been in it a couple of times. Once my bed covered the place where he had sat and my dresser covered where he leaned against my wall I could at least feel like it was my room again. Prior to that, the ghost of an angel had haunted it. How ironic.

Once I read about the different stages of grief. Even though he had not died, I felt like by losing Jeremiah I had lost the chance of a future that I did not even realize I had begun to imagine. Unfortunately, my subconscious had dreamt up a whole life with this angel and was throwing it back in my face. I was grieving

for not only the man, but also for the future that now would never be. My grief was over possibilities because, after all, who could marry an angel?

Ignoring the ache during the day was at least a bit easier. After those initial three days of barricading myself in my room, I threw myself into school and the store. Music and books only reminded me of what I had and had chosen to lose, so instead I worked hard at my mindless tasks. The store looked great – it was stocked and clean. Dusted and alphabetized. Typically my dad cooked dinner, but I cooked every night. I even cleaned up afterwards and did the dishes (something that the cook never had to do in our family). That left me the evenings to do more homework and finally allowed me to crash into bed.

Physically, I began looking a bit better. Ironic as inside I was ugly and rotting away. Because I was thrusting myself into sleep instead of avoiding it at every cost, the dark spots under my eyes receded and, for the first time in months, disappeared completely. No matter how I tried though, I could not put on weight. I even lost some more. Food tasted bland, like straw or hay. Trying to make believe I liked it never helped either. I just couldn’t stomach it. My dad watched me like a hawk, so I tried to eat some, but often dumped half my plate in the trash when I was cleaning up. I don’t think I was as sly as I wished. How do you get something past an angel? What I did eat felt like a ton of bricks in my stomach.

I felt eyes on me everywhere I went. Choosing to believe it was Jeremiah and not Sariel, I imagined a fantasized love and comfort instead of an irrational terror. Truthfully though, I didn’t think Jeremiah was even around. I hadn’t seen him since I raced past him in my yard two weeks prior. My dad made comments in the beginning about seeing him, probably to gauge my reaction, but when he saw that it made me clam up and leave for my room, he stopped.

Saturdays were the worst. It was the third one since I threw my future to the pit, and, as usual, I was hiding in my room. Business had slowed down since the ski

season was over, which meant my dad was back to his summer hours. The bookstore was closed Saturdays and Sundays. Originally he had tried closing it a weekday as well as Sunday, but found that too many people wanted to do outdoorsy things on Saturdays and were not coming in to shop.

I am typically not one to be overly dramatic, but I was pretty convinced that I had ruined any chance of falling in love in my lifetime. Brooding in my room, I could not see how I would ever find someone compatible again. Over those three weeks, I had finally come to with who I was. I am an angel and besides Jeremiah, who else in this world – or heaven for that matter – would halfway understand the life I was thrust into? Not to mention the small issue of possibly living forever.

Jeremiah not only understood angelic matters, but he also made me laugh more than any other guy besides my family. He was quick to call me out on things that I would have rather not faced, often much to my chagrin. Thinking of our conversation about my mom, I soon realized that he also knew exactly when I needed him to back off and give me time to process things. How does he know me so well when we just met and how can I get around him falling if we fall in love? I was not appreciating the irony of the phrase “falling in love.”

The past three weeks had not been in vain. I had searched the whole store and my dad’s personal library in addition to berating him with thousands of questions on whom I needed to talk to about these “rules.” Much to my disappointment, I not only did NOT find my mom’s journals, but it also seemed the big man upstairs was not open to talking to little guys like me. So much for being special and one of a kind. A lot of good it does me. To make matters worse, as far as I could tell, Jeremiah would be the only person – or angel actually – that I could bring my issue to in order for it to be moved further up the line. That was not going to work, as I had to keep a hard façade up, or I would completely crack. As it was, I didn’t think being in his presence would be possible without a breakdown on my side.

“Alright, I’ve had it.” I turned over to see who was standing in my doorway, although by the voice I already knew it was Ashley. “Seriously, these guys in your life say they are sure that you will snap out of it eventually and be ok. But in reality they are just too afraid of upsetting you to say anything. This needs to stop now.”

“Ash, I’m fine.” Her fingernails tapping steel drums on my door were already giving me a headache.

“Yeah, right. And I’m anorexic. You think you can be best friends with someone for eleven years and not know them?”

I did think that in fact. At least I had hoped so. Ashley was the hardest person to explain the situation to. I couldn’t tell her why I broke it off with Jeremiah. So I had taken the cowardly route and hid from her.

To begin with, she didn’t know we were even that close, as we couldn’t be seen in public. Then, we finally are seen in public (well, at church at least), and I end things. It’s for the best. This chant had been my constant companion over the prior two weeks and six days. If I wasn’t doing it for him, I never would have held my resolve for this long.

Not knowing what to say, I had ended up telling her that I liked a boy but then I ended it. My story was that he was leaving for college in the fall and I didn’t want to get attached and have him leave. It was the best I could do without sharing any angel details, which I physically couldn’t share even had I wanted to. Believe me, I tried. This was something that I begged to be allowed to get off my shoulders. Ashley could have helped me through.

Even though I could not go into any life details, at that moment I realized she was just what I needed. The lazy, thought-provoking Saturday was growing monotonous, and she provided a perfect distraction. Turing back toward the window I shielded my eyes from the sunlight pouring in. How I had failed to notice it prior to her arrival was beyond me. Somehow dawn had fallen on my darkest hour. But the golden orb flung in the sky was futile in lightening up the darkness inside me.

I quickly shut my eyes to block the tears as looking out made me think of quiet afternoons with Jeremiah somewhere remote. The waterworks episodes had been happening for almost three weeks, hence the reason I was sitting on my bed on the last Saturday of May.

“You can ignore me all you want, Coda, but I’m not going away.” She plopped down on the bed next to me and started fumbling with my radio. “So, what about a new boy? You got to get your mind off this college guy. What ever happened to that new kid that spoke to you at school? Why don’t you go for him? He’s cute.”

This far too insightful girl sitting next to me had hit the nail on the head and I couldn’t even tell her. She knew anyway. Only the best of friends would give you an opening line like that without flat out telling you they knew what you were refusing to tell them. Too bad I was not refusing to tell her anything but was being prevented from telling her. I was getting a taste of what my dad and Jeremiah had gone through with me.

“I am sure someone who looks like that could never be interested in me,” I feigned. Especially after what I’ve done to him.

“I’m going to pretend not to hear that ridiculous comment coming from my best friend who, might I remind you, knows she’s gorgeous and confident and smart

and will never let anyone tell her otherwise. Now quit with the pity party and get over it.”

“I’m not. I’m awkward and too mouthy and shy. I am the only person in the world who somehow manages to be both mouthy and shy at the same time! the time in public speaking when I couldn’t even practice my speech in front of you? I had to lock myself in your closet and tell you it through the door. I barely ed! That is not a confident person.” With all my lack of sleep and reoccurring nightmares, I am veering further and further from prettyville. I knew if I wanted to keep my head, I would never say something like that to Ashley.

“Look, I’m not going away. In fact, we are going to go out to the back yard right now, sit in some nice lawn chairs, and drink the coffees I got on the way over. Which, may I remind you are no where near ‘on the way.’ AND THEN, you are going to tell me about this Jeremiah.” With that, she was up and off my bed. She grabbed my iPod stereo and practically danced out the door. Knowing her as well as I did, I knew it would turn bad quickly if I did not follow. She’s like a category 5 hurricane that can take out all of Florida with one swipe. Her current mission was me, and I needed to go with it in order to survive.

I glanced down quickly, figured it was still a bit too chilly for a bathing suit, and decided I was ok in the shorts and tank top I had on. Besides the many rows of necklaces and the rainbow of bracelets that always covered Ashley’s arms, we were practically wearing the same outfit. Our Old Navy striped tank tops and cut-offs were nothing to write home about, but they were a comforting reminder that I was not alone. Smirking a bit at our lack of individualism, I realized it was probably the first time in weeks that my face had lifted from its frown.

As we rounded the kitchen, I shot my dad a pleading glance. He knew that I couldn’t tell Ash anything and that this was a disastrous plan to begin with, but he just responded with an encouraging smile and mouthed, “You need this”

before the door shut off my view of him. Once again, my dad was letting me down. I knew he meant it for the best – like he did when he cancelled family day to let me go out with Jeremiah – but really, would it have changed anything if I had spelled it out for him?

Stunned, I followed Ashley into the yard, where sure enough, she had pulled two lawn chairs out of the shed and placed them facing the sun. We had not gotten them out for the summer yet, so she must have helped herself. I turned around to grab some towels from the house only to hear, “I already have them. Come sit.”

Sometimes it’s scary how a best friend can read your mind. Not only do we answer unspoken questions, but we also finish each other’s sentences. Ashley had spread a big beach towel across each chair. Knowing she would want the orange one, I chose the chair with my favorite – the yellow.

The constant feeling of being watch intensified once I was outside, causing me to shiver. I looked behind the cute, single level brick house to my left and sure enough, I saw a haze building. Only there was something different about this one. I couldn’t pinpoint it until a second later; I noticed the eyes staring at me were not green. Instead, my eyes met the gaze of a piercing set of blue eyes. My insides felt warm, and I had a hard time pulling my gaze away from his. I had never seen Jeremiah in his non-human form, and it was a sight to see. It shocked me so much that I did not even think to question his sudden appearance.

He radiated love, warmth, and comion. He was a million tiny dewdrops, each reflecting the sun from a different angle. Near where his eyes were, the drops became packed closer together, like a pointillism painting that the artist spent his lifetime trying to perfect. It seemed like the most wonderful place to be encomed in its warmth. Were I not grasping the chair so hard my knuckles were white, I would have raced over to him in a heartbeat.

From one glance, I felt loved, safe, and forgiven. How he could tell me so much with only a look, I didn’t understand. Suddenly, his eyes trailed beyond me and took on a harder look than I had ever seen. It seemed the temperature dropped instantly. I followed his gaze. To my terror, a dark cloud gathered with two green eyes glaring my way. I quickly turned away. Ashley was just settling herself in her chair. I thought about calling to my dad, but I figured that Jeremiah would take care of me should something happen. Trying to relax, I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. The sun soon began encircling me in its warmth, helping ease my worry about our audience.

“Ash,” I figured if I started her talking first, I could get out of talking about Jeremiah in front of him. “How’s the play?”

I had dropped the “Sound of Music.” Mr. D. said that as long as I worked on the sets during class and came to dress rehearsals and performances to help out backstage, I was fine not coming to all rehearsals.

The sun was so bright I had to turn onto my right side just to see her. This set-up was fine with me though, as I was far more comfortable with Jeremiah watching my back than Sariel.

She briefly glanced up before hiding behind a pair of bright orange-rimmed sunglasses that I had never seen before. Like a punch in the gut I realized how unfair I was being to Ashley. I was so consumed with my own grief that I had left her to fend for herself.

“It’s ok. Josh keeps forgetting his lines and causing us all to wait. He makes a horrible Captain von Trapp but does have a nice voice.” She went on for five minutes with only the occasional “uh huh” or “really?” from me before she noticed that I was once again sidetracked. There were times that I could keep her

chattering on the phone like this for an hour, but it was harder in person. Especially when one has two angels battling with their eyes over you.

“And you’re not even listening, so I am going to stop talking now.”

“I’m sorry, Ash.” I couldn’t play dumb anymore. There had to be a way for me to tell her the truth. “Do you ever feel like you are being watched?”

“Here we go. Seriously, I don’t know what to say anymore, Coda! We used to be inseparable. We told each other everything! Now I feel like a chasm has opened in between us and I can’t reach over it. I just don’t know what happened. Did I do something?” The paint that once covered each nail flaked to a pile on her chair as she picked it off. Insecurities mirrored in neon colored slivers.

“No, really. It’s not you. Ashley, I think someone is after me.” I was surprised I was able to say that much and expected my mouth to go dry and mute at any moment.

“Coda, I’m pouring my heart out here, and you’re going to pull this lame distraction.” Her hazel eyes were burning the secrets from the depths of my soul.

If she were any faster, I would have missed her, but I managed to jump on her lap and pin her down prior to her grabbing her things and leaving. I couldn’t believe it. Not only was I losing sleep, my appearance, and boyfriend, but now the one constant in my life – besides family – was going as well. I clung to her.

“Ash! I’m not making this up. There is this guy from my dad’s past life that apparently wants me. He has some weird, sick attraction to me. You want the honest truth?” Sitting back on her lap I saw the nod before continuing. “I broke it off with Jeremiah because of this. I didn’t want to, but I knew that had this other guy seen us together, Jeremiah could have been in some serious danger.” I had not even thought of this side before, but as I was explaining it to Ashley in human, jealous , it sunk in. It was true. Miah couldn’t talk to me at first because of Sariel’s jealousy. I wasn’t proud enough to assume that it was the whole story, but at least I figured out part of the problem.

Jeremiah must have figured this out from the beginning, and that’s why he set the no public rule, even after we talked. Had Sariel seen us together, he would have flown into a jealous rage, thinking that Jeremiah “got to me” first. So, in reality, I was not only protecting Jeremiah from becoming a fallen angel, but I was also protecting him from Sariel. It was as if he read my mind, because as soon as I deciphered this, Sariel made his move.

Barely catching the slight movement, I threw my body against Ashley’s, causing us both to fall over backwards on her lawn chair. We landed, my chest against hers, pinning her to the ground and putting my back open to the world. The fallen lawn chair an ineffective barrier between the world and us.

I heard two trains crashing at the same time as I saw an atomic bomb going off in my backyard. From the lack of debris, I figured that it wasn’t an actual bomb, but I knew having a human present for collateral damage wouldn’t be good. Angels apparently are loud when they fight! As soon as I could stand on my shaking legs, I jumped to my feet, dragging Ashley behind me. The back door was open, worrying me for a brief moment, but instinct kicked back in quickly, and I pulled Ashley in and shut the door behind me.

We skittered to the living room, putting the store between us and the front, and the kitchen to block us from behind. Lying on the floor, Ashley finally looked at

me “You weren’t lying to keep us apart, were you?”

An involuntary chuckle escaped my lips. Only Ashley would have a conscious that goes through something like that and causes her to completely ignore the death defying moment. “No. I wouldn’t do that. You know me, Ash! Why would you even think that?”

“I’m sorry.” With that, she lay back down on our plush carpet and went into a semi-conscious state. She definitely was not built for stress. I grabbed the throw from the back of the couch and threw it over her.

Tim came racing down the steps at the same time as my dad rounded the corner from the kitchen. It hadn’t even been a minute since the original explosion. “What was that?” Of course, Tim looked at me like it was entirely my fault. My dad came to my rescue.

“That was what it sounds like when two angels collide. Jeremiah needs you, Coda. Go to your room. I’ll look after Ashley.”

I raced up the steps but became nervous upon actually reaching my door. I slowly pushed it open and peeked inside. From my viewpoint at the door, I only saw Jeremiah’s black docs against my lavender duvet. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the door the rest of the way, nearly falling over at what was before me.

Jeremiah was propped on my pillows and duvet, looking like a polar bear that had taken a roll in the mud. His pallor was so pale I wondered if he had any blood still pumping throughout his body. I was not in the least worried about my bedding at this time. Forcing myself to look at the rest of his body, without

meaning to I gasped. His left arm and leg were gone. Immediately I was reminded of that scene in Monty Python where the black knight is fighting and gets all his limbs chopped off. My brain works like that. The more scared I am, the more I find humor in the situation because, if not, I would be utterly useless.

“It’s so bad you can’t look, huh?”

His voice startled me. The confident, strong man that I had become used to hearing was rasping and very clearly in pain. Get over yourself and take care of him! I forced myself to meet his eyes, not even realizing that my gaze had drifted to the floor.

“I’ve seen worse.” My smile must have looked forced because his barely creased the corners of his mouth. In reality, I couldn’t tell if it was a smile or a grimace from the pain.

Swallowing the bile that was building in my throat, I looked at where his left shoulder should have connected with an arm. The shoulder was completely torn away, leaving a mass of ligaments and broken bone protruding gruesomely. Thankfully, his jeans completely covered his leg, leaving me to only see the indentation where his left hip had been torn away, causing his dirty jean pant leg to lie flat on my bed. It was a disturbing sight that would stay with me forever. I was sure that if my dreams were not already plagued with a terrifying nightmare, it would have haunted them as well.

I staggered around to the other side of my bed, using the footboard as a . What was dad thinking sending me to help him? We need to get to a hospital, stat! I had no idea how I was supposed to help Jeremiah. My dad was the healer, and yet, he sent me up here.

“Lay with me.” He still sounded raspy and hoarse, but at least he was talking. It was more than I could say for myself. Making sure not to touch him, I very carefully climbed in next to his right side.

“Umm, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do here.” I figured at that moment, his healing was far more important that my pride.

“You love me.” The way he sounded so sure made me wonder just how many of my tears he actually did witness.

“Uhh, yeah. But, I mean about your body. And we’re not getting into relationship issues right now. You need medical attention.” I would have told him anything at that moment to help him feel better. The gray pallor of his skin was scaring me. “I think I need to call my dad.”

His cold hand grabbing mine stopped me. “No, love heals. Coda, you are an angel. You have to have inherited some of your parents’ skills, so having a healer for a father should help. Beyond that, though, we can all heal to some extent. Even humans. It’s love that heals. We, as angels, are love. It’s what we are built with – the matter that holds us together. It enables us to heal much faster than humans; also giving us the ability to heal from what, in a human body, would be a deadly injury. Having you here with me will fix me within the hour.”

I tentatively relaxed into him. Not being able to stomach touching where his left side should have been, I held his right hand with both of mine. We stayed that way for a while before he slipped off to an uneasy sleep. Assuring myself that he was actually asleep, I quietly left the room and headed to the bathroom. Shutting the door behind me, I finally could let go. The silent tears left tracks on my

cheeks as I slid down the door to the floor. I rocked myself a bit, crying for all that had happened. I cried mostly out of absolute fear – for Jeremiah, but also for my future. How am I going to get away from someone who can do this to an angel? And what if he had died? I didn’t know if angels could die, but the thought put a ten-ton brick in my stomach.

It took more than five minutes to finally snap myself out of my stupor. Breaking down wasn’t going to help anyone. I leaned forward to grab a bucket out from under the sink and crawled over to the tub. Turning the water to a comfortable temperature, I filled the bucket with water and cucumber breeze scented bath soap and finally returned to my room.

Jeremiah was awake when I came in. “I thought you left me.” He seemed so tired and anxious.

“Never.” I meant it. That day had shown me something that a year of silence between us couldn’t show. I did not know if I could live without Jeremiah. This was not a melodramatic, high school crush, nor merely a happening of circumstances. God had placed us together for whatever reason, and together we would remain. “Now, let me clean you up a bit.”

His shirt was ripped down the front, so I simply had to pull it off his good shoulder to reveal his bare chest. So focused on his injuries, the sight of his perfectly sculpted chest did not even give me pause. His arm was ripped off from the shoulder down. It looked like a bear had gotten to it, eating it completely off – bone and all.

“I took on human form before he hit me. That’s why it’s this bad. I didn’t want Ashley to see. I jumped in front of you; he hit me, and then took off. I think it was a sort of warning. The only thing he really did was really displease me.”

Jeremiah almost always spoke with a common slang, easily blending in with the people around him. His saying “displease” showed me how upset he really was. I knew he was trying to make me feel better, so I didn’t comment.

Wetting the washcloth in the basin, I began wiping the caked dirt off of his forearm. “Well, at least you don’t have to wash your left side.” This joke was awarded with a smile that broke my heart.

“This is my fault. I’m sorry. I pushed you away.” I only wanted to do what I thought was best. I wanted to save him. And look at us now. He’s hurt worse than I could have imagined. The only thing I did was break us apart. Would we be stronger working together? What about the falling issue? Am I willing to risk it? I guess it wouldn’t matter if he were dead, so first things first – together we stand.

He couldn’t grab my hand, as I was scrubbing dirt off of the only arm he had, but he turned to catch my eye. “Do not do that.”

“What?”

“Do not blame yourself. I was there because I wanted to be. I never let you out of my sight.” My insides began burning at this information. “You have something that the rest of us never had. You have a free will. I am not sure how far that goes, but I will not make decisions for you. I will let you choose. But believe me, whether you send me away or not, I will always be with you.

“Coda,” I had looked down as soon as my cheeks started burning but was forced by the intensity of his voice to meet his eyes again. “Angels are made for one partner. We only have one other, like your parents. They were apart thousands of years and are again, but they are still soul mates. They will never have someone else.

“Like with everything else, you are an unknown. I do not know if you will love like we do. But for the first time in my life, I know that I will and that I do. I love you with everything in me. It is impossible for me to stop loving you. It would be outside of who I am – of what I am made for.”

He was contemplating something, so I remained in silence and let him continue after a pause. “I did not want to come here. I have never had an assignment where I had to remain in one place for so long, and it made me uneasy. I didn’t understand why some warrior like Michael was not sent to protect you. I am not typically appointed for protection duty, which is why we all figured you were not long for this world. I now know, I was sent because of who you are and not what is happening in your life. I was sent to you because you are my other half.”

I had no idea how to respond to this, so I did the only thing I could. I leaned down and kissed him. His arm wrapped around me and pulled me against his tight chest. He was firm underneath me, yet somehow I fit exactly. I did not care that he was covered in blood and dirt. Nor did I care that I would soon be as well.

Searching his mouth with mine, I felt the warmth of our bodies ing together. When we pulled apart, I noticed that his arm was now formed down past his elbow.

“I love you.” There was no more explanation needed with him. He somehow

knew that I understood all he was telling me. He also knew that I loved him with all that was in me but also that I did not know how to even begin to feel about the forever aspect. It was purely beyond my thought process at that point in my sixteen years of existence.

Chapter 14

“The little reed, bending to the force of the wind, soon stood upright again when the storm had ed over.” ~Aesop~

I decided I liked the angelic form of healing. At least if it involved healing Jeremiah. It was the first thing in my entire life that I was good at without trying. And, of course, it was the one thing that, had I not been good, I could have enjoyed it even longer. It only took a little over a half hour for Jeremiah’s limbs to “grow” back. It was astonishing to watch. The ends of the missing limbs were hazy, like he was when he was in his cloud form. Unless you were watching, you didn’t notice that the haziness was gradually going downward and above it a new bit of the missing limb had formed.

Jeremiah decided that it was too distracting having me wash him, so after his arm, neck, and face, I was forced to stop. That is why I was alone when I walked back downstairs a mere 45 minutes after going upstairs.

“Oh sweetie, I thought you could do it. It takes practice, though. I’ll go up to him.” I quickly caught on that my dad thought I hadn’t been able to heal and had come down to get him to help.

“No, Dad, Jeremiah’s showering and will be down in a bit. Tim, I hope it’s ok that I let him borrow a pair of basketball shorts and a T.”

Tim nodded his approval without looking up from his burger. Apparently my dad had made burgers, which was great because I was starving by that point. ing my non-angelic best friend, I looked over to where Ashley was curled up fast asleep on the couch under the blanket that my mom’s mom had made – or at least I had thought so previously.

“Hey, Dad, who really made that blanket and the rocking chair and everything else that we were told our grandparents made?”

“We did. Your mother and I.”

I had always been led to believe that my grandparents had died before I was born. It made sense now, as before Tim and me, angels did not have parents and therefore, cannot have grandparents. Except for Tim and I – at least we had parents.

The second week after we had moved there, it was Grandparents’ Day at school. Every kid in class had a grandparent there except for me. Not only was I the new kid without a mom, but I also did not have a grandparent to bring in. I felt so left out all day that my dad allowed us to skip Grandparents’ Day from then on. Come to find out, if I wasn’t different enough by my grandparents being dead, not having grandparents at all was just about as bad as it got. The only thing worse would be not having a belly button or something!

“Dad, do you have a belly button?”

“What?” At least I got eye again for that question. “Of course. I am in a human form. What good would a disguise be if I wasn’t the same as others?”

Again, made sense. I guess in his angelic form, no belly button. “What does your angelic form look like?”

“Let’s hope you don’t have to see. At least not for a while and until he is no longer one of the fallen.” I hadn’t heard Jeremiah descending the steps, but he jumped into the conversation as if he belonged. My dad shot him a relieved

glance and went back to his burger.

“Sweetheart, finish getting those burgers and dig in. You can ask more random questions while we eat if you want.”

I already had two plates off the shelf and handed one to Jeremiah. The burgers were still warm and the buns lightly toasted. There were toppings for the burgers and nothing else. Noticing how manly the meal was, I turned to the pantry and pulled out a bag of trail mix and potato chips. At least we could have some sides besides the cow.

“So, what did you tell Ashley?” Jeremiah and I had taken our places at the oak table my dad had made three years ago. Half of his first burger was already gone. I guess angels’ metabolism is the same as high school boys.

“The truth.” Tim finally looked up from his now empty plate. “She had to know. She does not know that we are full angel, though. She knows of the Nephilim and that we are descended from angels. Unlike the other girls, when she turns 18 she will probably be made aware of being Nephilim herself.”

It took me a minute to catch up, but then I ed seeing her dad around our table for the Nephilim meeting. Tim must not have noticed that I was trying to catch up on what he said, as he didn’t even pause for a breath.

“For our safety, we are not able to mention to anyone that we are descended from only angels. We had to tell her a bit of the truth though. There was no other way to explain the sound of a bomb exploding in our backyard. Also, being your best friend, she’s automatically dragged into this. Way to go, anyway; now you

put a target on her head.”

“What? What are you talking about?” I had followed everything he said, up until the target part.

It was my dad who answered, no doubt nicer than Tim would have responded. “It wasn’t your fault. Any one of us would have reacted the same, were we in your situation.”

“That’s why the rest of us only hang out with Nephilim, knowing they at least have a chance at defending themselves.” I wasn’t following all of what my dad and Tim were saying, and I had a feeling I was missing an important part.

“Timothy, you only found out Anthony was Nephilim recently and yet you hung out with him. Don’t go pointing fingers when you did the same thing. Just because you are an angel does not mean you stop loving those people who you have loved for years.” Regret and disappointment showed from my dad’s clear eyes. Tim must have known what he would he have seen there, as he didn’t look up after my dad first called him by his full name.

“Umm, I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand.” I wanted to get them back on topic – the supposed target on Ashley’s head.

Tim sighed dramatically before getting up to fix himself another burger.

I turned to my dad instead. “Hun, when you defended Ashley, placing yourself in

danger instead of her, you showed Sariel that you care about her. You showed him that you would put her life before yours.”

“I was already sitting on her. I could not have done anything different! Besides, of course I would save her!” I looked around the table, trying to figure out why this was a bad thing. Last I checked a little chivalry went a long way.

“Coda,” Jeremiah ed in to try to give it a shot, “he will use her to get to you. He may even take her and then try to bargain for an exchange with you.”

“And it finally penetrates her thick skull.” Tim had reed the table and was seeing the same horror on my face that the others were also witnessing.

“You mean,” but I couldn’t finish. The thought of Ashley being taken by Sariel was so astronomically horrible I did not have the vocabulary to express it. She was far too innocent for this. Not that I was not innocent as well, but I had thick enough skin to handle this. Ashley had been sheltered her whole life and knew nothing of pain or hurt. She was just about as innocent as the newborns in the hospital. I had lost my appetite and pushed my plate forward to enable my head to drop to the table in front of me.

“You know I would do it.” I didn’t even bother looking up, knowing they were all going to be angry. “I would trade myself with Ashley without a second’s hesitation.”

“You can’t!” Jeremiah and Tim exploded at the same time as my dad calmly said,

“I know that’s why she now has to be protected as well.”

“We don’t have the manpower to do that, Penemue! We have a hard enough time keeping track of Coda!”

“Squirt, you can’t even think of giving yourself up. I won’t let him have you. You have no idea of the horrors that he has planned for you. It’s not worth it.”

“Tim, you would do the same thing if it were Anthony.” Lifting my head to face his eyes, I could tell he agreed that he would but was not going to let go of this fight.

“Yeah, but that’s different. As soon as he gets you, what’s to stop Sariel from taking her, too, just for kicks? You ever think about that? He’s sick, Coda. He’s not right.”

I wasn’t going to sit and argue with him over this, because I knew who I was. And I definitely could not let an innocent take my place. I’d die first. Well, from looking at how things were turning out, that could actually be a possibility. My dad and Jeremiah were still discussing the protection issue when I cut in, “Why doesn’t she just stay with us?”

All eyes flew to mine, as if I had made the cleverest comment ever. My eyes seemed to roll on their own accord. How come guys need things spelled out so simply? “Well, she could! School ends this coming Thursday, and it’s only exams. We’re practically together the whole week anyway, studying until we

crash. She can just stay here. In school we’re always together, and since you’re already watching me, it’s nothing more.”

“Coda,” I looked into his deep indigo eyes, knowing I would not like what he had to say. He took a deep breath prior to continuing but never broke eye . “If it comes down to saving her or you, I will save you. Every time. It’s in my make-up. Even if I wanted to change, I wouldn’t be able to change that instinct.”

I paused and processed this information. There was no point in being angry because I have certain people that I would choose above all others as well. Understanding him completely, I grabbed his hand under the table. “Ok, then I guess it will be up to me to save her. The rest of you can worry about my behind.”

I watched the faces of the three men around the table. Each of them would save me without a moment’s question. They would go to Hell, giving up an innocent, to keep me safe. I knew that without a doubt. What they didn’t equate into all of this was that, like them, I cared far more for their safety than my own life. And Sariel ed that. I wasn’t sure how much he understood of self-sacrifice, but he knew enough. Out of the four people in my house that moment, I understood one of them would be my downfall. If they all made it out of this alive and safe, I could live with that. I would even die, were it necessary, content that they were safe.

“I don’t get it, Miah.” We were once again lying side by side on my bed. He had been watching Ashley and I study for hours. Since my eyes were only seeing a blur of words, we had decided to take a break, and Ash went down for a snack.

“I’m going to need a little more info to help you “get” whatever it is you’re

thinking of.”

“How can something be done for love and still be wrong?”

Shifting to look at me, he gave thought to my question. I loved how he didn’t treat me as inferior or spout off an “of course” answer. Jeremiah gave me his complete and honest attention – always.

“Well, I once saw a judging of a woman. She had a hard life. Her husband left her, taking the kids and everything during a nasty divorce. He lied and planted false evidence, stating that she used drugs. Moving far away and changing their names, he eluded her for years. She ended up killing him. He deserved that and worse and she did it to save her kids from his abusive ways. It was done in love – for her children, but it was not her place to judge. I know it’s an extreme situation, but the point remains – we don’t see the big picture and don’t know enough to make those decisions.”

“But isn’t He – God – the one who judges?”

“Yes, in His time. Coda, if He had judged the fallen a millennium ago, I would have been sentenced to damnation.”

I processed that before responding. “So maybe others will change as well.” Shivering and snuggling closer at the thought of him being sent to Hell, I breathed his scent in and assured myself he was really there. The moment ended a second later though, as Ashley opened the door.

“Ready for more? Every right answer we get a peanut M&M!”

Laughing as I ed her back on the floor, I merely replied, “Of course you’d find a way to break your diet.”

Her pink tongue was the only response I got.

“SCHOOL’S OUT FOR SUMMER!”

“Watch it!” Ashley shot daggers at the junior who ran by us screaming down the hall. “You’d think we were in a torture dungeon, having our fingernails pulled out or something. Geez, it’s only summer.” I was surprised she hadn’t also stuck out her foot to trip him. For as dramatic as she is, she sure can’t handle anyone expressing themselves.

When Operation Ashley (as I so cleverly named it) went into effect, we moved her stuff into Jeremiah’s locker, enabling us to be together all the time. It was now Thursday, the last day of school, and we were standing outside them stuffing the remaining paraphernalia into our backpacks. Jeremiah watched from somewhere nearby. I could not see him, but I would have bet my life that he was near. In all reality, I was betting my life that he was near because, had he not been watching, Sariel would have taken his place as super–stalker.

The last day of school had finally come. I usually counted down to this day, but this year it was different. For starters, there was my roommate. I loved Ashley and everything, but at times I needed a breather. As close as my family is, one would think that we spent all our time together, but it is not so. We often have our own downtimes, alone in our rooms. Among all of us, I knew it would be

hardest for Tim to have my roommate living with us. He does not have the frame of mind to handle vivacious, theatrical Ashley for long. Not surprising me in the slightest, Ashley had taken the news of moving in very well. “It’d be like when my parents went on that cruise and I stayed with you!” I vividly ed torturous forms of “girly” things like waxing and exfoliating every night.

“No, Ashley, it will be like boot camp, except studying for exams instead of the early morning work-outs.” She had gotten a little gloomier after that but was still excited about the whole idea.

The week had gone well – better than I had originally expected, however the weekend was going to be a bit tougher. Opening night for the “Sound of Music” was Friday, followed by two shows on Saturday and one on Sunday. We had never reached an agreement on how to handle the weekend.

Walking out to the car, I felt Jeremiah’s eyes on me. Ever since first seeing him in the cloud form, it was as if a connection were made. It could have been all in my head, but I swear I could feel his warm, comforting gaze on me throughout the day. One day I will ask him about that and if it is the same with all angels. I shivered, imagining the slimy feeling I would feel as Sariel watched. Shaking away a new, disturbing thought, I noticed Anthony and Tim were waiting for us as soon as we exited the building.

“Congrats!” Anthony picked me up and twirled me around like a kid. “You made it to your junior year of high school!”

Laughing as he finally set me back down on my feet, I barely responded, “If I ed all my exams,” before another bear hug engulfed me. I let myself collapse into Tim’s arms. It was one thing to laugh and joke with Anthony, but there were very few places that I found more comfort than wrapped in my big

brother’s arms.

“Congrats, Kiddo,” he whispered directly into my ear without letting me go. I knew precisely how he was feeling. Our life used to follow a simple track. When Mom left, we lost one rail, but somehow our train still stayed straight – riding the one track alone. In the last few months, both of us had our trains not only topple off the remaining rail but be blasted away by tornado-force winds. Most people would at least have family as a constant throughout life-changing times, but not in the Irin household. Finding out your parents both are angels tosses that out the window, leaving only daily routines of school and work as a constant. Now that summer was here, that final constant was removed. He was scared. I was, too, for that matter.

“It’s going to be ok. I have faith.” Now if I can just get myself to actually believe what I say. I pulled back to peer up at my brother. Public affection wasn’t completely unheard of in the Irin family, but Tim typically wanted to keep his “cool” status, and I was definitely far on the nerd side of that scale. Apparently, liking to read was the equivalent of “nerd” status, instead of a person having actual brains.

“Yeah, I know. I just wish that the Guy we are supposed to have faith in would be a little more forthcoming with information.” So, he was just as annoyed as I was with the censoring of information. I gave him a half smile, knowing exactly how he felt.

“Who’s up for ice-cream?” We definitely deserved something normal. “We can go into Aspen and chill for a bit.”

Apparently, they all agreed with me, as I was chorused with “Sure!” “Yes” and “Of course! But we need to at least tell Dad first, otherwise it’ll be our hides.”

My dad said he had better not close up early, but gave us some money and sent us on our way. Jeremiah met us by the car and jumped in the backseat of our slightly cramped Accord. None of us minded though, as it was summer, the sun was shining, and we were free.

Tim, Anthony, Ashley, and I used to spend a lot of time together as the four of us and we quickly slipped back into the easy bantering friendships. Jeremiah was mostly quiet on the way there, seemingly content to just hold my hand and stare out the window. Hoping that he wasn’t feeling left out, I tried to pull him into the conversation a few times, but he seemed happy to just be there. I soon gave up and enjoyed the chit chat.

We were at Ben and Jerry’s before we knew it and all tumbled out onto the warm pavement. I took a minute, turning my face into the sky to let the sun pour into every part of my being.

“You know that’s an angel thing, right?” Of course, Jeremiah was watching me.

I noticed the others had already entered and was glad for the moment alone with him. Slipping my arms around his waist, I stole a quick kiss. Some nights I would lie in bed and wonder how something so abnormal was beginning to feel normal. On top of all angel matters, I had a boyfriend and didn’t hesitate to grab a kiss in a parking lot.

“What? Lots of humans do this. You can’t steal the joy of sunlight from humans.” It was hard enough itting to myself that I was an angel, as absolutely nothing had changed about me. I was not ready to give up all the “human” joys that I had thrilled in all my life and say that I only liked them

because I was an angel.

Tickling my lips with his laugh against them, he pulled back an inch. “Not the joy, but the rejuvenating effect of it. The sunlight is the purest form of God’s glory that we can get from this earth. It recharges us. Makes us happy and content.”

I still thought that humans could be rejuvenated and happy from the sun, but decided it wasn’t worth the argument. Instead, I closed the inch and kissed him again. My insides were close to melting when we heard, “Are you guys going to be ing us or should we get a table for three?”

Pulling back embarrassed, I merely glanced at Anthony before turning my traitorous rosy cheeks towards the ground. “No, we’re coming. We were just enjoying the sun.”

“Sure.” With that, he closed the door practically in my face and walked over to where Tim and Ashley were already seated.

“That was weird. He’s never like that.”

“He likes you, you know.”

“Yeah, just as much as he likes ice cream. Sometimes even less.”

“No, Hun, he likes you as much more than a sister. It’s obvious.”

I smiled at the “Hun” comment prior to getting the last word of the argument. “No, he doesn’t. Come on, I want ice cream.”

He let the conversation die and politely opened the door for me and even bought me my Coffee Coffee BuzzBuzzBuzz waffle cone. I wondered where angels got their money. Did they get an allowance from God? It was such a funny thought, I almost choked on my ice cream and managed to spit some on Tim.

“Nice, Coda. What a lady you are turning into.” His blue eyes were mirrors of mine and glistened with a joy that I hadn’t seen in a few weeks.

“Oh, please. Since when do you want me to be a lady?”

I had him at that, so he just shrugged and turned back to his Banana Fudge Royal Sunday. I was going to have to keep a notebook in my pocket to remind me of all the questions I wanted to ask Jeremiah about angels. He’s turning me into Nancy Drew!

We arrived back at home in time for dinner, waving goodbye to Anthony before going inside. He had some family dinner so wouldn’t be ing us for the Italian we had picked up in town. It was definitely on the pricey side, but it was so worth it! We all put in some, and it ended up not being that bad.

“So, what are we doing about this weekend?” I had waited until we finished and

the last plate was in the sink before mentioning the elephant in the room. Knowing guys, it probably was an issue for Ashley and me, as men in general do not let anything distract them from eating. Especially great Italian food. Noticing that Ashley had curled up on the couch, probably asleep, I conceded that it was only my elephant in this room. Ugh!

Setting his empty cup back on the table, my dad looked over at me. “Well, you’re not going to be behind the stage, that much is already set. I talked to Mr. Donahue today and explained that we had some family issues, and I can’t have you tied up in other responsibilities. He said not to worry and to make sure you know that your grade won’t be affected.”

There had to have been some angel mojo involved in that, but I just left it as there were more pressing issues.

I cleared my throat. “Ok, so since none of you have any ideas, I am going to tell you what is going to happen.” Three sets of raised eyebrows greeted me, but, since none spoke, I continued. “We are going to go to the school and see all the shows. I am going to tell Mr. D. that I can still help out and that I even brought help. Jeremiah and I will be back stage with Ashley any time she is not in front of the curtain. Dad, you and Tim will go and watch the performances. You will sit in the front and be ready for action any time she is on stage. There. You see? Simple.”

“Well, I guess it could work.” My dad obviously did not want to it that I created a better solution than any of them had thought of.

“No. Never in a million years! I will not sit through three showings of the ‘Sound of Music!’ Not going to happen!”

“Four.”

“What?”

“There are four showings this weekend.”

“Coda, even more so! I can’t!”

“Fine, Tim, stay home. When Dad tries to take on Sariel alone because he was the only one in the audience, it’s your conscience that you’ll have to live with after.”

“There has got to be a better way, Squirt,” his brows furrowed in concentration. It’s amazing how he got through high school when he had to work so hard for a simple solution. “Hey, what if Anthony and I each take two showings?”

“That’s a good idea, Son. You should call him.” With that, Tim was gone for the evening, dragging Anthony into watching the “Sound of Music.” I guess “misery loves company” is quite high in Tim’s book.

“Why so quiet?” It did not escape my notice that Jeremiah hadn’t said one word since my suggestion.

“What is the ‘Sound of Music?’ Should I be afraid?” For looking, feeling, and sounding so human, Jeremiah was far from human. It was so easy to forget.

I quickly proposed, “Here, let me show you.”

Rolling his eyes, my dad interjected, “You do not even want to know.”

Smiling innocently, we went into the living room, woke Ashley up from her post-dinner slumber, and popped the DVD into the player. We had gotten all the way to the dinner-pinecone scene when Jeremiah got up and proceeded to walk out, completely ignoring the pleas of both Ashley and myself. I guess “Sound of Music” doesn’t even work with angelic boys.

Chapter 15

“Childhood is measured out by sounds and smells and sights, before the dark hour of reason grows.” ~John Betjamen~

By Saturday evening our nerves were stretched thin. Ashley, Jeremiah, and I were sitting backstage, trying to avoid people in general. Were it not for the looming threat, we would have wanted to avoid each other as well. The three of us were in the dark, squeezed on the loveseat hidden behind a curtain in stage left. We still had 45 minutes until the curtain rose for our third performance. Ashley already had her makeup done and was in her wimple and gown, with a rosary hanging around her neck. She was polished and ready, with no place to go.

“This is ridiculous! He isn’t going to do anything in a huge crowd. We should just relax.” It was ironic that I was the one complaining, since, even if Sariel weren’t after me, my weekend would have gone the same way. Typically I don’t mind performance weekends, but I was tired of the Von Trapps and ready to put on some comfy pajamas and watch a movie. Now that was an ideal Saturday night!

“Relax. Only one more tonight and we can go home.” Jeremiah pulled me into his lap and began rubbing circles on my back. I was glad that my back was away from Ashley. Not because I was embarrassed, but just because I wasn’t sure how Ashley was going to handle the whole boyfriend issue. Even I felt a little weird sitting on a boy’s lap in front of her. She had always been the girly girl, moving from one crush to the next – most often someone famous and far from accessible. I, on the other hand, had never spoken of any crushes – much to her disappointment – and definitely had not dreamt of the possibility of dating someone in high school. We knew everyone in our class, and there was no one that even remotely interested me.

In addition, for most of our lives, it had been Ashley and me. If we were spending time with anyone else, it was only Tim and Anthony. There wasn’t ever anyone taking my attention from her. Deep down, I believed Ashley liked that we did not have any other friends. She could have; she was from here and knew everyone. She was outgoing, energetic, and beautiful. Ashley’s bubbly personality was contagious. Her parents were friends with all of their parents,

but she chose to only be friends with me. Being the drama queen that she was, she loved the complete attention of people, myself included. I was worried how it would transpire in regards to my relationship with Jeremiah.

Thankfully, Jeremiah had kept his distance for most of this week. I think that he still had other angelic duties, and while I was under protection of my dad, he was expected to be elsewhere. I didn’t ask because I hated not getting an answer. Since it would bother him as well, I just avoided the subject.

“Ok, kids, doors are opening in two. You know the drill. No one backstage when that happens. You can go to the green room or hang out in the back hallway. No peeking. If you can see them, they can see you.” Really, you would think that after the first two performances, Mr. D would have figured that we knew how this worked. Not to mention, most of us have been in his plays since childhood and had heard that same speech before every performance.

“We should go,” Ashley groaned as she rose stiffly from the couch. It was a reminder that between long nights of studying and the two of us sharing my bed, we were both running on fumes. Jeremiah and I followed suit, down the back stairs, across the hall, and into the “green room.”

I’ve heard of larger schools who have real “green rooms” off the side of the auditorium, complete with changing areas and make-up stations. Ashley’s dream come true. Not us. Not at SVHS. We had an art room, transformed into a “green room.” This just meant that the large tables were covered with cosmetics and wigs and any paraphernalia pertaining to the era of the play that was being performed. We had dollar store mirrors set up around in random places where some people were still stationed, putting the final touches on their make-up. The boys would go down the steps and behind the half-wall to change amidst the pottery and kiln. Some parents had complained, but none of them wanted to pay the tax increase it would take to upgrade our drama department. Hence the art room/green room luxury.

“I need to breathe for a second. Wanna stand out front for a minute?” Not knowing why I even asked, because if I were going to go they would have to as well, I looked expectantly at my two constant companions.

“You go. I’ll be fine.” I really hoped it was nerves from the performance and not the beginnings of the to-be-fit over Jeremiah. Knowing I wasn’t going to get Ashley to budge and that I was the only one who was going to protect her, I sat down on the stool next to her.

“Here, let me help.” I took the eye shadow from her as she turned my direction. Noticing that Jeremiah had keenly stepped to the front of the room, I breached the subject. “Ash. What do you think of Jeremiah?” I was going to ask her how she was feeling about my relationship with Jeremiah, but I opted to go a more open route and let her bring it up herself.

“He’s great, Coda. I’m really happy for you.” Man, one did not need a Lie to Me education to read that body language. It was clear from her tone that she was not happy.

“You know this isn’t going to change you and me, right? I mean I’m always going to be your best friend.”

The summer prior, I worked on a whitewater raft. It was a summer full of long, fun hours. I worked with a girl named Samantha. She was fun and spunky. She actually reminded me a lot of Ashley, only without the mood swings. Samantha also did not have the loyalty of Ash, and so I wouldn’t have dreamed of telling her anything I didn’t want the world to know.

Ashley chose only to see how much fun I had when I was with her, drawing herself into a frenzy over our “soon to be ending” friendship – or so she thought. Samantha had come down to Stanton a few times to hang out, outside of work. After the third time that Ashley had gotten up and walked out of a movie and ice cream, we decided that three was a crowd. I hung out with Samantha at work and an occasional weekend, but not much more. Ashley wasn’t the “sharing” type of person. Normally I considered myself luckier than anything because of this, but now I was beginning to wonder if her insecurities in herself were to blame.

“Ash,” I tried again. “Jeremiah can never replace you. I need you. You know that, right?”

“Sure. Whatever.” This was going nowhere, fast.

“I --”

“Let’s go people! Were on in five!” I had mixed emotions about the interruption but couldn’t do anything about it at that moment. I grabbed Ashley’s hand, smiled, gave her a big hug, and said, “Let’s go.” She knew that I really meant “we’ll talk about this more later.”

There’s something about being backstage before a performance. Your nerves are roused and there’s static in the air. As I looked around, I noticed everyone going through his or her routines. A few had their heads in their scripts, trying to memorize everything that they already knew. Others were reciting their lines, their mouths in a silent race of movements. A few were praying, some were trying to pull on parts of costumes, and finally there were those with their pocket

mirrors, still touching up their make-up.

We were stage right, as that’s where the pulley was for the curtain and also where Ashley would enter for her first scene. In the scenes that she was to exit to the left, Jeremiah would stand in stage left and wait for her but then wait till the curtain was closed to cross. This was because he flat out refused to go behind the back curtains, as he would lose sight of me for a few seconds when crossing.

Whatever my dad had said to Mr. D was beyond necessary, as he suddenly thought I was an invalid or something and only let me sit on my stool to operate the main curtain. I typically would be running around, arranging props and helping people change in and out of costumes. Not for this play. I think that part of my grumpiness was that my rear was asleep, and I had worn an imprint in the stool by the end of the first performance.

The applause was deafening. The play had gone perfectly. Saturday nights were always our biggest crowd, and this one didn’t disappoint. They had to open the partition between the cafeteria and the auditorium to make extra room for folding chairs. Ashley was glowing after her final bow. At least she was until she looked over and saw my standing ovation. Had I not known her as well as I do, I would have completely missed that her smile changed from pure joy to a forced recognition.

“Finally.” I jumped as Jeremiah’s whispered voice sent shivers up and down my spine.

“Quit that!” He and I both knew I didn’t mean it, as he proved by leaning in and kissing my earlobe. “Really, you are supposed to be a good angel.”

“Alright. But only because Ashley’s coming, and I am more than ready to leave this forsaken place!”

“YEEEEAH!” Ashley squealed as she threw her arms around my neck. I only hoped that her mood stayed like that. The ups and downs were driving me crazy!

“You were GREAT, Ash! I’m so proud of you! Let’s go celebrate!”

It was another forty-five minutes later when we finally walked out of the high school only to notice it was a torrential downpour.

“Will you please go get the car? I can’t afford to get sick for tomorrow!”

When I saw his look, I knew it would take some prodding. “We will stay right here by the doors. I will stay with Ashley the whole time, and it will only be a second, Miah. Please. Let us have some girl time.” The last sentence was a whisper, and, by the look on Ashley’s face, she hadn’t heard.

Unconvinced, he kissed me briefly, yelling, “Thirty seconds, tops! I mean it.” I only saw a blur as he pulled the hood of his black Element sweatshirt over his head and took off running. His chivalrous side outweighed his practical side. The rain was coming so thick; he was out of sight within five seconds.

“You did so well, Ash!”

“Don’t. Coda, don’t patronize me.” She completely caught me off guard, so it took a second for me to respond. Oh yeah, she’s mad at me.

“What? I meant it. You were phenomenal out there! I’m sure CU will be offering full-ride scholarships by the time we’re ready to go.” Since 7th grade, we had planned to attend Colorado University for college. We have changed the decorations of our future dorm room at least once a year since then.

“I can’t do this. Not right now. Don’t ruin my night.” I stared after her as she stalked off towards the car. Trying to figure out what had just happened, I missed him coming from behind the school. I only sensed his approach a second before his cold, clammy hand touched my shoulder. It felt exactly like what I would have expected a fallen angel’s hand to feel like.

“She does not understand how much you care nor does she deserve your love. None of them do. That’s why I am going to save you from the heartbreak of their rejection.” His cool breath on the back of my neck invoked a completely different shiver than Jeremiah’s.

Making up my mind to kick him where guys are most vulnerable and make a run for it, I turned. That was as far as I got, because he was not in a human form. He was much more than human, and I was stopped dead in my tracks. Whoever says that fallen angels lose their beauty has obviously never seen a fallen angel in their angelic beauty.

Sariel’s lofty form stood in the falling rain, yet somehow the rain was not touching him. Standing well over six and a half foot tall, his cold emerald eyes stared down into mine. His hair was slicked back, as before. The stubble on his chin added a roughened look to his high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. The chiseled square shape of his chin hardened his evil grin. You could tell though,

that behind this stunning figure, something was very wrong. At least I could.

Sometimes I will meet someone and get a bad “vibe” from him or her. I had always thought it was because I read people easily, but maybe it had something to do with my ancestry. Maybe all angels could feel evil because, at that moment, I sensed the evil pouring out of Sariel. It was as if it were eating the beauty, like a black hole consuming everything around it. It was a thick tar, completely coating the beauty with which it came in – first Sariel and then anything in his vicinity. Had I trusted him enough to close my eyes around him, I could only imagine the black ooze I would have seen corroding out of open wounds throughout his perfectly sculpted body.

On top of everything though, he was still so terrifyingly beautiful. It was no wonder the first words from all of the angels’ in the Bible were, “Do not fear.” In that frozen second, he made his move. Before I could gather enough breath to scream, he had me pressed against his hard chest.

It was then I noticed his wings. With a silent wisp of air, he unfurled them. I had no idea how he had kept them hidden before that moment. When you consider all the Valentine’s Days, Christmases, Easters, in addition to church and Sunday schools, I had seen hundreds, perhaps thousands of angel pictures in my life. None prepared me for that. His wings were huge. Raising them so that the tips were barely an inch above the ground, they towered high above us, at least doubling his already prominent height.

They were white, like summer clouds against an azure sky. I had been expecting a fallen angel’s wings to lose their purity, to darken to a gray or even black like so many of the books I had read. They were pure white but did not shine. Having grown accustomed to Jeremiah’s glossy bronze skin, I felt slightly disappointed from the lack of sheen. Snap out of it, girl!

“Why aren’t you glowing?” I did not expect to talk – only to act – and I never would have thought that the topic of his shininess would come up, but those were the only words that popped out of my mouth.

As his daunting smile disappeared, I grasped that I had said the wrong thing. His wings wrapped around me like a cold, wet, silk sheet. They were soft as the feathers they were made of, however confining and claustrophobia inducing as their iciness chilled my bones. It had only been a minute from him initially speaking to me being completely enclosed and unable to see or do a thing.

I kicked, punched, and, finally – much to my absolute horror – bit, but all to no avail. As my feet left the ground, I began to earnestly panic. This was not supposed to happen. Why didn’t I chase after Ashley? Why had I let Jeremiah go? Why didn’t I go with him in the rain? How are we flying when his wings are around me?

They say that people think of a random thing when in a stress-inducing situation. I heard of people who had gotten into a major car accident and the first question they ask the paramedic is if anyone had seen their coffee. Well, the thing that mocked me most about the situation is that I love the rain. Tim and my dad continue to ridicule me to no ends because even at 16 years old, I would still run out into a summer storm to dance in the rain. For as much as I loved the sun, there was something renewing about the rain. It washed away all the bad, all the grime that collects during the sunshine hours. The rain mends the bad and replenishes anything struggling to grow. And there I was, getting kidnapped in it. Talk about irony.

To say being pressed up against Sariel was unnerving would be the understatement of the millennium. I quickly noticed that he enjoyed my fighting, so I forced myself to be still. His derisiveness made me want to be as complacent as I could, if for no other reason than to upset him. It worked. As soon as I stopped fighting and lay quietly in his arms, I felt him stiffen. It wasn’t long until

he gripped my arms with a hold that would leave permanent bruises. At that moment, I resolved not to speak, cry, or beg. He could take me physically, but I would die before giving up my spirit. It was all I could hang on to against a bigger, stronger, and more experienced foe.

Having been completely confined, I had no idea the direction we were going. In our self-defense classes, I scored top in figuring out lefts and rights when blindfolded in a moving car. This, however, was never tested. There were no turns, as his flying was fluid. Chuckling a little, I imagined myself walking into the sheriff’s station, requesting a flying section to be added to the abduction portion of our self-defense classes.

It was all I could do to the time. I estimated about twenty minutes had ed before we finally landed. He, however, did not let me go. Patiently waiting, I did not move. He grew more and more agitated until finally, he threw me away from him. I landed on an inflexible, granite floor.

Wanting to look anywhere than him, I inspected where I was. It was all but impossible as there were no windows, and the only light came from a few lamps, but I finally concluded that we were in a cave. It was either that, or an enormous dungeon. Besides the fact that I did not think we had made it all the way to an ancient castle in Europe, the stalactites that hung at least fifty feet above our head were what swayed me towards the cave option. Their blues, purples, and crystal light was reflected on all the walls, making it feel as if a disco ball threw up. Had I not been kidnapped and imprisoned to this place, I would have found myself in awe.

It was luxuriously furnished inside my underground jail. This I had not been expecting at all. Steel bars and a cot – yes. The huge bed with the softest looking thick, down-filled comforter – not in my wildest dreams. It was beside this enormous bed that I found myself. The cavern was one large room, sectioned off by furniture alone. The “living room” was the farthest from me on my right. It

had Victorian couches that looked like they belonged in a museum. Considering the fact that I was with a fallen angel, they just may have come out of a museum. Their high backs and little cushions definitely did not look inviting. Give me a comphy couch anyday.

Furthermore, since it was there that I found Sariel sitting, I knew I would not be lounging nearby anytime soon. The “kitchen” was ahead of me, with a small table and two chairs. It also had a sink, a little stove and oven, a microwave, and a small, dorm-sized refrigerator. I wondered if there would be knives in the drawers, or if he would have been human enough to think of removing them. Finally, my gaze turned to what I could have only imagined would have been the bathroom. To my left what I found was a large hole in the ground, easily big enough to fit five grown people, with a natural hot spring in it. My tired muscles ached in anticipation as I watched the steam pouring off of it. There was a small partition beyond that, which I assumed was a toilet.

“Well, is it sufficient for you?” I turned to find Sariel intensely searching my face. ing the vow I made to not speak, I said nothing and looked away. “I found the best of everything for you. What is it that you humans say? Oh, yes! ‘Only the best.’” He seemed proud to what we “humans” say.

“Ahh, but of course that would upset you. You are not a human. A thousand apologies, my love.”

He obviously had missed the fact that perhaps it was his kidnapping me that had upset me and not his furnishing. And did he really think he had the right to call me his love? Who did he think he was? I wasn’t sure how long I could keep my silent routine, as I so very badly wanted to run screaming obscenities that I had never dreamed of saying prior in my life!

Instead, I curled my knees to my chest, put my face in my knees, and practiced breathing techniques. In-two, three, four, out-two, three, four, in-two, three, four, out-two, three, four. I thought about Jeremiah. After seeing Sariel in his angelic form, I prayed that Jeremiah would not come after me. It seemed that, at least for now, Sariel wanted my approval and health. He had not hurt me so far, but I could only imagine the damage he could do to Jeremiah. I too-vividly ed what Jeremiah’s body looked like the last time Sariel had gotten close to him and prayed he would stay away. I trusted Jeremiah but I did not think he was from a fighting stock of angels. He was too caring to be able to inflict that much damage to a person – well, to an angel.

Knowing this was a frivolous thought, I began trying to rearrange my mind towards something more helpful to the situation in which I found myself. Being the realist that I am, I seriously doubted Jeremiah’s and my dad’s ability to track me to the cave. This meant that I was on my own in getting out of there at least. Perhaps we would be somewhere near where I could call them during phase two. Patting my pockets, I realized that – of course – my cell was missing.

I quietly stood and, feeling Sariel’s gaze on me, kept my eyesight anchored to the ground in front of me.

“This is your home now. You are welcome to look around and do whatever you wish. There are plenty of books, and, whatever you need, I will acquire for you. I am not here to hurt you. I could never hurt the one I love. You will be mine to take care of for all of eternity.”

That last statement said so pompously was my last straw. “ARE YOU STUPID?” He had the audacity to look hurt. I briefly wondered if anyone had ever spoken to him like that before but squelched the thought quickly. “DO YOU THINK THAT YOU CAN COME INTO MY LIFE, KIDNAP ME, TAKE ME TO A DESERTED CAVE, AND THAT I AM GOING TO BE OK WITH IT? I AM NOT, AND I NEVER WILL BE!”

I seldom cry. There are very few who have ever seen me cry. I could count them on one hand. However, when I am livid, I cry. I was shaking so hard, I had to sit back down. I collapsed back into my position of cradling my knees, put my head down, and let the tears fall silently. He may have known I was crying, but I was not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing my brokenness. I cried my heart out, my shaking shoulders the only sign of my silent turmoil.

I sat on the hard, polished rock for what could have been hours. Finally, only after the numbness had spread from my rear to my knees did I shift to lie on the floor. Sariel must have been watching my every move, because before I could fall to my side, his hands were under me and had taken me to the bed. I had no strength to fight, so I let him place me on the heavenly comforter and fell asleep before I fully settled into it. I did not dream.

Having no windows or clock to look at, I had no idea how long I slept. As soon as I was semi-conscious though, I felt grimy arms around me, causing me to practically throw myself on the floor. Luckily, a woolen rug cushioned my fall. It would be just my luck that I would be one of the 450 people that die annually from falling out of bed.

“Why do you hate me so?” I couldn’t understand why he thought I would like him. “If you wish me to, I will sleep in the sitting room for a few nights to help you acclimate. However, you may as well become familiar with sleeping with me, as you will be doing it for all time.”

His dark promise chilled my bones.

Chapter 16

“You know that place between sleep and awake, the place where you can still dreaming? That’s where I’ll always love you. That’s where I’ll be waiting.” ~J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan~

Time ed. It crept along like the snail it was, slimy and slow, refusing to stop even as the tornado that had become my life tried to knock it off its path or stop it altogether. I was originally planning on carrying out a food and water strike, however when this resulted with me stretched out on my back on the floor and Sariel sitting on me, forcing me to drink, I rethought my plan. It was not a smart plan anyway as I needed to keep up my strength. Deep down I knew I had only tried it in order to gain control of one aspect of my life, even if it meant starving.

Even though I had told myself in the beginning that I would have to get myself out of there, I had secretly hoped that some knight in shining armor would show up. Jeremiah would show up in a cloud with grand declarations of true love being his only guide. My dad and Tim would drop down from above, talking about family being the com of life. As the days ed, I realized I was on my own. No knight was coming.

I had always been creative in getting what I wanted. It came with part of the youngest child/only girl territory. With enough creativity, I knew I could get out of there as well. The main problem – or at least that I could see at that time – was that there was no door. After scouring the cavern during one of the few times that Sariel left, I soon found that not only was there nothing around that could be used as a weapon, but smooth stone circled the walls of the whole cavern.

I spent a few hours trying to find a hidden door until I belatedly ed that my captor had wings. Of course there aren’t any doors. After two days of gazing at the ceiling, I finally found a sun-reflecting bunch of stalactites, hanging like a chandelier from the ceiling fifty feet above my head. Later, those same stalactites were dark. The light had to be leaking in from an opening somewhere. Ecstatically, I examined the walls for a way up, only to be disappointed. There was no way I was going out that way. It was just too high. The only benefit from this discovery was that I began to keep a count of the days by scratching it with a spoon on the underside of the bed. Go me.

Thinking had become my pastime, although I always had a book in front of me to pretend I was reading. Sariel had only left twice that week, presumably to get food. If he had waited an eternity for me, how much longer would he wait? Does that make a person – angel – super patient or tired of waiting? Those thoughts were foremost on my mind. I jumped at every move he made, imagining the worst – that he was finally going to “claim me” as his own. I knew I needed to get out and quickly. If not for the prominent danger than for my sanity’s sake.

In the beginning of the following week I made a discovery. On the bookshelves by the couches – which were exactly as uncomfortable as they looked, effectively forcing me to read on the bed – I found over fifty books on angels. Some were in languages I had never seen before, but as soon as I picked them up, I understood them. Weird.

The first week, I did not say a word to Sariel. This not only infuriated him, but it also did nothing to further my escape. After that discovery of the library, I decided to change my tactic. I had found the angelic books and was reading through them as fast as I could, however I had no way to know if these were just his collection of what humans think angels were like, or if they were actual, historically accurate s of angelic activity. I had found a section in the fourth book, speaking of the “language of angels.”

It read:

Being made in the image of the Almighty, all his eternal worshipers shall speak the language of the angels. Likewise, they will have complete fluency in any language that they shall encounter.

Figuring that the eternal worshipers were angels, I had to assume that what I had just begun to experience was common to angels. It would have been nice to have known this trick when I was struggling through my Spanish classes for the previous three years.

“Is this true?” I held out the leather-bound, handwritten, (what I guessed to be 15th century) ancient looking book that I had just finished reading.

The surprise shown in his eyes upon hearing my voice flashed almost too quickly to notice. He merely replied, “Of course. Why would I keep rubbish?”

Briefly I wondered if he was excluded in the “keep Coda out of the loop” clause. I decided it wouldn’t hurt to test it. “How were you able to hold me with your wings and fly at the same time?”

The look he cast my way was one of uncertainty. It was as if he was questioning whether I wanted to know or was just poking fun of him.

“Really, I want to know.” Anything I know about you will only give me an edge later when trying to escape this place. I tried my most trustworthy face.

“Well, I used one set to hold you and the other to fly, of course.”

WHAT? “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I am following. You have two sets of wings?” The stability in my voice surprised myself.

“Of course. And I am starting to wonder if I liked the silence better than the idiocy of your questions.” Apparently he could tell me things, but thought it petty to do so.

And we were back to square one – me hating him and him putting up with me only to get something out of it. I tried not to think that the “something” was most likely full-blooded angel children. Square one wasn’t quite right though. I had gained a good piece of information in the knowledge that he had two sets of wings. If anything, it seriously diminished my chances of hurting him enough to prevent him from flying.

A modern book caught my eye a few shelves above where I was returning the previous to its spot. Curious, I pulled it down, and began to read.

“and Sariel the course of the moon….”

“Is this you?” His annoyed sigh didn’t deter me in the least. “Well, is it?”

“Oh, yes.” The green eyes that haunted me for months, brightened as he eyed the book. “Unfortunately, I do not have any of the originals from Enoch’s own pen, but I have found the modern translation sufficient.”

Nodding, I looked down and kept reading. I could tell he was itching to tell me more, so, I kept my silence – more to annoy him, than for any other reason.

“You know, I am most skilled in the knowledge of moons and stars. It would

behoove you greatly to know what I do. We shall start an instructional period during our days within the month.” His voice rose along with his self-assurance.

I didn’t give him the benefit of seeing my eyes roll. Behoove? Really? A few quiet moments ed with the crinkle of pages turning our only sound.

“Wait, who are the Watchers? I saw this same word earlier.” No reply. I guessed he was upset at my lack of enthusiasm over his knowledge, so I decided to read Enoch’s book aloud to get his attention.

“And on the day of the great judgment he shall be cast into the fire. And heal the earth, which the angels have corrupted, and proclaim the healing of the earth, that they may heal the plague, and that all the children of men may not perish through all the secret things that the Watchers have disclosed and have taught their sons.”

I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was missing something. Going back to the section on Sariel, I reread the page.

“Oh, you won’t find the information there, my dear.” I imagined ripping his hair out of his head, while he smugly kept his eyes on the book in his lap. “That useless book does not state how your father was one of us, nor, does it show how he was one of the few that originated the whole concept of leaving heaven. Really, were it not for him and a few others, we wouldn’t be here now. The other Watchers falling was only a byproduct of what he began.”

He was watching my face closely, so, I kept my expression closed down, even though my heart was in a million pieces. Here was the information I had been

begging for, so why was my heart in a million pieces somewhere in my gut? Was there any hope for redemption for my dad, when he was one of the founding fallen angels? Don’t let Sariel get to you, Coda. He could be lying. Taking solace in this thought, I tried to focus once again on the book. Something nagged me though. He sounded too smug to be lying.

“Did you notice your beloved Ramiel – or Jeremiah, as you like to call him?” Startled, I met his gaze.

“What are you talking about?” My cheeks were beginning to hurt, so I unclenched my jaw.

“Only bringing up the questions they did not want to answer, my dear. Your inquiries, . Not mine. You wonder where they fit into this all.” The pressure of my legs, resting on my fists, was the only way to prevent my not-sosudden desire to slap him. The self-satisfied smirk crossing his face did not help my resolve. “But I’m sure we will go over that later. Let’s just say that your ‘Mr. Perfect’ and I used to be very close friends. Pity, he was much more entertaining back then.”

And, with that the conversation was over. My thoughts pinballed around each other for the rest of the day, but I wouldn’t give Sariel the satisfaction of knowing that he had upset me. Oh, Jeremiah, why didn’t you tell me? How much were you prevented from saying and how much did you keep from me because you were worried about me knowing? By the end of the day, I had determined that it did not matter. Jeremiah was forgiven and the past was just that – past. Clinging to that resolution, I allowed myself to fall asleep that evening.

The following day I found a quote handwritten in yet another, more modern journal. According to this one, angels could even have up to six wings.

“’Above it stood the seraphim: each one and six wings; with twain he covered his face, and with twain he covered his feet, and with twain he did fly.’ Well, at least they got the wings part right.”

I wondered where he or she was quoting from, but after being so rudely dismissed the previous day, I decided to research my questions myself instead of voicing them.

“I was beginning to doubt that you would ever find her writings amongst the rest of these. Such a careless mistake your mother made.”

By the time I restarted my heart and turned to respond with something snappy, he had moved away. I looked back at the book in my hands. Its worn covers were a faded brown with a simple white etched lily on the bottom right-hand corner. I rubbed the leather fabric covering the most inner thoughts and feelings of the woman who had given birth to me, raised and loved me, and then was taken away too soon. Hugging it closely, I turned my fury towards Sariel once again.

“HOW DARE YOU? You talk about love, yet you do not have the slightest inkling what the word means! You stole my mother’s journals and used her to get to me!”

“How else would I have known you existed? It is not like I go about policing my fellow fallen angels and their lives. Although, seeing how you are here, it makes me wonder what other surprises I may find, should I begin to search.” His casual response only infuriated me further.

“THESE ARE MY MOTHER’S!” While he was talking, I had picked up two other identical books and was clenching the three to my chest.

“Very good observation. It is, after all, why I kept them for you.”

Stunned, I chose to ignore him. He obviously didn’t perceive this though, as he continued speaking.

“You know, I will not lie to you. After all, it would be pointless, as you will never leave me.”

Sariel was way out in left field when it came to seducing a woman – as he so often claimed he was doing with me – or even simply manners in general, but again I pressed to find out more information.

“Why did my dad bring us here?”

“Well, he sure didn’t bring you here.”

Sighing and wringing my hands together, I visualized strangling him. “Sariel, why did he bring us to Stanton?”

“Oh, well, because of the others, I’d imagine. I would say to ask him, but I am

sure he would not give you a response. That and the fact that he is not here. Those who care are prevented in certain matters of speech. I, of course, will tell you anything. There is no hidden longing of mine to be on the side of the righteous.”

How he slurred “righteous” gave me chills, but I continued on. After all, he may have done it purposely to see my response. But how could someone, anyone, not want to do good? Doesn’t everyone have an inner conscience of some sort?

I had to pause to think back to what he was saying before asking, “What others?”

“The other fallen, of course.” If he said “of course” one more time, I might have decided to ignore my own conscience and go for bodily harm.

“Obviously, I do not know, so you can cut out the ‘of course’ on the end of every statement.”

“My pardons.”

What?!?! Did he just apologize? As awkward as he was, Sariel was willing to give me more information than anyone else had at this point.

“So, there are other fallen angels in Stanton?”

“Yes, my dear, it is one of our, how would you understand it, one of our

headquarters? Yes, one of our headquarters.”

EWWW!! Gross! I forced my brain to go the “my dear” comment in hopes of finding out more. The conversation was becoming more stressful than I could deal with.

“I don’t understand why it would help my dad, though. He was trying to keep us hidden.”

“I forget that you do not know anything of us. You have been kept in the dark. Too far in the dark. I will help you see who you are. They only prevented that.”

Looking at Sariel, I could see the man he once was. Or, angel. His slender build may attract some women, and he did have decent cheekbones after all. If someone didn’t ever look into his eyes and see the darkness of his soul within, he may be seen as good looking. Just being near him, though, caused my skin to crawl. I wonder if it is me knowing somehow that he is a fallen angel? I shook my head to focus.

“We can sense other fallen angels. Your father moved among us to prevent us from finding him. It really was marvelous how he hid in the last place any would look. If there were a stray fallen one in an area with no others, suspicions would have arisen. Especially one with children. We tend to stay together and even more so, to keep our children together. He, however moved into the city with the highest ranking fallen member – under Lucifer of course – to keep up his disguise. To the Nephilim – yes, my dear, we know of your little hidden group and really could not care less – he was a normal human. We assumed he told them your mother was angelic to keep his cover. Many of us have done that over the millennium. Little do they know, he was actually telling the truth.

“Do you really think he could have lived in a normal American town and kept the name Penemue? He could do that in Stanton because we all know him as that. In any other town the people would have immediately wondered who he was and why he was named something so unique.”

Processing this, I barely caught that he was still talking, “Now, I will be out for a while. Please try to bathe.”

I missed how Jeremiah and my dad made a valiant effort in keeping up with the times regarding their speech patterns. Who in their right mind thinks that they can end a conversation about stolen articles of one’s parents and fallen angels with “please try to bathe?” As soon as he left, I threw myself on the bed and sobbed. I did not have the energy to read the rest of her words, but I was not about to let my mother’s journals out of my grasp. And to think, we lived in a town of fallen angels. What if they found out who I was? What if Sariel told someone else? Finally, I fell into yet another restless sleep. Since arriving, my nightmares had stopped, only to be replaced by another. I was plagued with visions of Jeremiah.

That night Sariel tried to sleep with me for a second time. “How can you be so utterly ridiculous? We are meant to be together and WILL BE TOGETHER.” It was obvious by his intonation that he didn’t mean we will “sleep together” but that we would have a far more intimate relationship. I had assumed this to be his ultimate goal but had tried to hope for the best. That hope plummeted in the bottom of the deep well that encomed my soul.

Without a word, I slipped out of bed and found my way to the throw rug. I had really liked the big bed, which in and of itself disgusted me, so I welcomed the uncomfortable scratchy wool under my face, with my hip-bone crushing into the granite floor. I did not want to like anything about this situation. Not the bed, not

the books, nor the information. Pain helped me to that I was a prisoner there and not happy about it. Sariel let me go this time without even a response. I suppose he thought that I would eventually give up and come back to bed. He would soon discover the severity of my stubbornness.

Chapter 17

“Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none.” ~William Shakespeare, Alls Well That Ends Well~

“Coda, my love.” It was the first time I could hear him in my dreams. Time seemed to stop around me by the speed in which I was in his arms.

Sobbing, I clung to him. “Why? Why is this happening? Why can’t God just let me be happy? First my mom, now my dad, Tim, and you? I hate him!”

“Shhh,” rubbing circles on my back like he did to ease my discomfort before the play, he tried to quiet my sobs. “Shh, Angel, shh. There is a greater plan in all of this. We will get you; do not fear that.” The dark intensity with which he said it forced me to tremble.

“Ok, I’m ok. I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” I took a shuddering breath and tried to calm myself. I wanted to enjoy every moment with him – even if it was only in my dreams.

“Don’t be. Never, never be afraid to show your insecurities around me. You can try to be tough for the world. You can act like you have it all together for them. But not with me. I love you. I love every part of you, including the parts that need me. I have failed you; I don’t even deserve to be here with you now. I need to know that you still need me at least in some way.” I was worried I would soon lose him in a pit of guilt.

“Stop. Jeremiah, look at me.” I pulled his head back down to mine and rested my forehead against his. His breath tickled my face as he tried to control his emotions. Noticing how his casually messy hair had turned disheveled and purplish marks matching my own cast shadows under his dark eyes, I continued cautiously. “I have no idea how long we have, but I need you. I will need you forever. Please, don’t leave me now.” It scared me how much I had meant every word.

“Coda.” He said my name like a lifeline. “Are you really here?”

“If by here, you mean in this dream, then yes. I would like though, to actually be with you, so get to talking.”

“Right. Sorry.” I knew he was apologizing for far more than the conversation, but I kept it light.

“Don’t let it happen again.” Rising slightly on my tiptoes, I pressed a kiss against the tip of his nose and went on, “How can I get out of here?”

“I need you to give me any clues on where you are.” I tried not to let my disappointment at their lack of information play like a neon light across my face and reminded myself that I knew I was on my own.

“While he flew, I was completely surrounded by his wings, so I have no idea where we are. Which, by the way, thanks for the warning that he has two sets of wings! I was totally not expecting that! It took about 20 minutes to get here though. I counted every miserable second.” I shuddered and hid my face into his warm, comforting chest with that last whispered ission.

His arms tightened around me, “I will personally throw him into the fires of Hell for this.” I knew he would, too. “Has he…” he stopped, tightening his arms to the point of hurting my ribs, “has he touched you in any other way? If he has, it won’t change any way I feel about you. You are still pure and innocent, and I will love you. I just need to know.”

The eyes that held my stare were midnight blue and shown with such a ion they could have been black. I knew he meant every word, and my heart swelled with love for him. I kissed him with a hard, needing kiss. I needed to feel him. He was my reality, my future, and I needed this reminder. “No,” my breathing was ragged, “no, he hasn’t touched me. He tried to sleep by me, but I left his grimy arms and slept on the floor.” I knew it would not help the situation to it that I had fallen once asleep in those filthy arms, not because he would be mad at me, but because it would make him feel even guiltier and angrier knowing what I had to go through. Jeremiah was just like that.

“Miah, you need information.” We finally pulled apart and for the first time I noticed our surroundings. We were at the small waterfall where he had taken me the first afternoon we spent together. The gentle breeze lifted my shirt and he took advantage, placing his warm hand against my lower back. With this, he continued pulling until we were lying on the ground. “Or, maybe we can get to that next dream.” I was enjoying this significantly. Captivity could easily be dealt with, as long as I got to dream like this.

“Yeah,” he didn’t look like he was going to hold to his conviction, but finally pulled himself into a sitting position, cradling my head in his lap. Running his fingers through my now very dirty blond hair. He continued, “What else? Coda, think. Were there any sounds?”

“Nothing. It was all muffled from in there. I have nothing.” I tried to look down in disgrace, but was held in place from a fistful of hair. “Hey, quit pulling my hair!”

“I am not pulling anything. You are the one who is moving away. It is not my fault that it is stuck in my fingers.” It was hard to be mad at him when he was so cute, so I gave up trying.

“I can describe the cave.”

“HE HAS YOU IN A CAVE?!?!”

“Wait, chill. It’s furnished like a museum, complete with a hot spring-fed bathtub and everything. Maybe you can look up local hot springs? Is there some database for that?” His hands stilled prior to me figuring out how that sounded. “Not that I’ve taken a bath, as you can tell from my hair.” I was not about to drop my clothes in front of Sariel. Even when he left, I was imaging him looking down and waiting for me to get naked to show up and try to me. No, thank you!

Jeremiah relaxed a bit. “You look dazzling, as always.” I had never been called “dazzling” before and especially not with how I looked then. Purposefully looking my worst was one of my many efforts to keep Sariel away. That comment made me slightly question Jeremiah’s sanity. Even my own father would be revolted by how I smelled and looked.

“So, anyway. The cave is pure granite. Completely. Topped by stalactites about fifty feet up. The only way in and out is through the ceiling – hence the fact that I have yet to escape.”

“’K, what else?”

“Umm, it’s big. Like a hundred yards diameter, but it’s not a perfect circle, which makes me think that it is not man-made. Or angel-made for that matter. I think he would have made it perfect to try to impress me.”

“Wait, granite. That would explain the GPS issues. Large. Mountain. Fifty feet.”

He was mumbling to himself, and I barely caught any of it, “Did you say GPS? What GPS?”

“Oh, sorry. Your dad had a tracking device implanted in both you and Tim when your mom was taken away. He knew that he couldn’t track you to heaven, but at least would be able to track you on earth. Obviously, he didn’t think it through all the way. Maybe had he gone with some advanced military-issued…”

I let him continue without paying attention. GPS. Here I was thinking I was totally on my own, but my dad had been trying to prepare for something like this for years. How horrible it must have been for him to let us live a normal life. I would have had a heart attack every time my kids left my sight, knowing what we were and the dangers that awaited us. More and more I respected my father. For being a so-called “fallen” angel, he was one of the purest and best men I knew. Granted, I only knew three angels – one of which was practically the devil – but I was sure he was the best out of all of them.

“My dear, you’re fading.” His voice snapped me back to reality. Well, dream reality at least.

“NO! I can’t go back. I need you!” I had shot up and was now sitting on his lap, straddling him like we playing spider on the swings in first grade. Never in my life would I have thought I’d be screaming those words to a guy. I never wanted to be that needy girlfriend, yet here I was, begging him not to leave me.

“Love, you have to wake up and act as if you never saw me. We will find you. I need you to be strong.”

“I don’t want to be strong anymore!” I was ruining his Tide-scented Ripcurl shirt, but for once I did not care how snot or tears would leave a permanent impression of me. I only wanted this dream to be my actuality and my nightmarish reality to be solely that – a nightmare.

“I love you.” His words were a warm breath on my neck.

I woke up crying. This was no different than every other morning though, so I curled into myself and tried to calm down. Not knowing how Sariel would react to the fact that Jeremiah could reach me in my dreams, I was exceptionally careful to disguise any differences in my demeanor. I had no idea myself how Jeremiah was able to do it, but did not think to question him in my dream. One day I would though. I was going to ask my questions and I would get answers.

“You need to bathe.” Whipping my head around, I shot Sariel a glare like none other. I was sitting on the floor eating my Cheerios and doing my best to avoid him, essentially acting like I had been since arriving in this furnished jail. I refused to be at the table with him, therefore my floor routine. The previous night I had thought about bathing but decided against it. My Sariel repellent was working well, and I would never have given him the satisfaction of obeying his command so easily.

“I will, but not while you are here, or if there is any chance that you will arrive while I am in the middle.” You sick pervert. I hardly stopped the thought from coming out of my mouth and bit my tongue in the process. The taste of blood at least covered the sour bile flavor that rose in my mouth at any thought of what his plans of “us” were.

“I will leave for one hour today. I trust that will be enough time?”

“Where are you going?”

“I will be meeting with someone. You are much wanted, and I need to ensure that others cannot find you. There are many who would not be as kind to you as I am. You will do well to keep that in mind.” He stood statuesque, muscles clenched from his defined jaw to the white knuckles on his fists. Sariel was obviously not happy about the meeting and that intrigued me.

Even more than his body language, was the fact that he answered me. I wasn’t expecting a reply at all, and his shocked me. It is true that any fallen angel would probably want me as a “mate,” however I had been so preoccupied with keeping away from Sariel that I had not given it any thought. What if someone higher (or would it be lower) on the evil food chain caught up with me? How long was this nightmare going to end? Plagued by these thoughts, I only caught the end of what he had said,

“…is that alright?”

“What?”

“I said,” he didn’t need to sound so exasperated when repeating himself, “I will leave in ten minutes. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Five minutes after he left was all I had to spare to see if it was a trick. I even bent beside the hot spring and splashed around, watching to see if it would draw in my perverted captor. When it yielded nothing, I quickly grabbed the soap and shampoo from behind the partition, left my dirty clothes near the clean white sundress that I had found in an armoire by the bed, and eased into the tub. If all went according to plan, I knew I would be found soon. And, in reality, I was beginning to give myself a headache from my own stenches.

As the divine bubbles raised to my neck, my knotted muscles finally relaxed. I could have unwound in it forever but I did not have that luxury. After quickly soaping my hair and myself, I rinsed and then went about cleaning my clothes. I had never thought, when I got dressed in my black yoga pants and T-shirt for the Sound of Music, that I would be wearing those same clothes over a week later. Out of absolute abhorrence to the idea, I had changed my undergarments with ones I found in the armoire daily, but only under cover of the small area behind the partition. My clothes were laying rigid in the exact way they had fallen from my body to the floor when I began my washing task. If I didn’t have hope of getting out of here, I would have asked for a washing machine.

Ten minutes later, I was out of the water and dressed with my own clothes hanging to dry. I had forty-five minutes until Sariel’s proposed time of return and much to do. Like a caged lion, I had walked the perimeter of the cave early that day under the watchful eye of Sariel. Unbeknownst to him, I was actually not pacing out of frustration but inspecting the walls for any footholds. I found one, about five yards to the left of the bed and about 5 feet above the bed’s highest point.

The bed soon proved to be immovable, so it was time for plan B. So as not to leave any incriminating scuffmarks, I carefully lifted the small table from the kitchen and placed it where I needed it. The whole idea would be in vain if

Sariel had any idea what I was up to, so I had to make sure that nothing scraped the floor in any way. I was less afraid of hurting myself and more afraid of making a mark and giving myself away. There couldn’t be any indication leading Sariel to question and find my GPS tracker. I could only imagine the bloody scene of him cutting it out of my arm.

I returned with a chair and set it on top of the table. Finally, I climbed up the table and the chair, pushing myself to a standing position on top of the slightly rocking structure.

The handhold in the wall was finally at chest-level, and I was actually able to get a good grip. Pushing myself up, I managed to hold my weight on my right hand positioned by my waist, enabling my left foot to scarcely hit another jutting rock slightly to my left. It was a good thing Tim and I enjoyed rock climbing, or I never would have made it this far. Even had I been able to move the bed, I would not have been high enough to reach the second rock for my foot.

Placing weight on my trembling left leg, I pushed off and put all the weight I could against the wall. It’s now or never. No backing out. My feet were at least fifteen feet off the ground by that point. I reached over my head with my right hand, reaching as far as I possibly could in the air.

When I was in the tub, I had carefully inspected every inch of my body. For as much hiking and climbing as we had done, I was basically scar-free. I healed quickly and had yet to have an injury that required a doctor. Knowing my dad’s healing abilities, I now questioned how many bones I had actually broken and he had fixed without me realizing the extent of my injury. Hopefully, he would be able to fix me again, because I knew I would soon fall. The only scar I had found was a small, two-centimeter, raised scar on my right forearm. It had to be the tracker.

I figured that if I could get high enough, the GPS would pick up. I was sprawled against the wall, half-way to the ceiling and it was the best I could do. There simply were no other handholds. I had carefully inspected the areas around the higher furniture like the bookshelves and armoire, but the granite was polished a good fifteen feet above and around those.

Some people are able to live their lives helping others – feeding the poor, building orphanages, helping homeless people. Many have high ambitions to reach the world. I had never given much thought to it previously, but at that moment I realized how selfishly I had lived. At age 16, I assumed I had the rest of my life to do those things, but, instead, there I was, forever trapped in that cave. A captive never amounting to anything. I couldn’t even save those I love.

The shaking in my leg was getting worse, so I attempted to mentally prepare myself for the fall. I counted to three, pushed off the wall, and tried to land in a crouch, followed by a roll. Of course, life seldom happens like we planned. I could not even land correctly. Instead of the perfect landing I had envisioned in my overly-creative mind, I landed with my right foot on the leg of the table, managing to roll my ankle. Either my crouch saved my left ankle, or the throbbing pain from my right side outweighed any issues with my left side.

As I rolled on the floor failing to minimize the ache by applying pressure, I thought of my dad and Tim. They would not recover if I did not get out of this. It had been all of us together that had enabled us to make it through my mom leaving. I knew with every fiber of my being that being held captive for life was not an option if I wanted my dad and brother to go on with their lives. They would spend eternity chasing me, selling their souls to the devil if they believed it would get me out.

Millions of people live in pain daily. Around the world, people in agony are dying every minute. Children die with hunger pains. I had never known such excruciating suffering prior to that fall. My veins felt like a tangled mess of

rattlesnake poison, spreading rapidly from my ankle until my whole body was a dull throb of misery. Above all was the emotional pain of failure. I could not move, therefore I could not rearrange the pile of furniture. Sariel would know I was trying to get higher and would search me for a tracker of some sort. Without a doubt, I knew he’d skin me alive to eliminate the threat to his happily ever after. It was over. I had just ruined my only chance at helping my dad find me.

After about five minutes, I could no longer even sulk due to the increasing anguish. Sariel would not be back yet for what I figured would be another twenty minutes, so I was on my own. Feeling my bones rub together when trying to push myself up, I collapsed, and, finally, as the pain drowned me, I blacked out.

Chapter 18

“Each morning we wake up, we get to choose between hope and fear and apply one of those emotions to everything we do.” ~Karen Marie Moning~

I awoke to a cold cloth pressed against my forehead and soothing fingers in my hair. “You’re here.” Somehow, within my delirium and pain, I was able to vocalize.

“Yes, relax and I will try to heal you.” A little late, I became conscious of the fact that it was not a cloth, but a cold, soggy hand across my forehead. Something was seriously wrong. I tried to shoot out from under his touch, but instead managed to immediately grow dizzy from pain and fell, head first, to the floor. I ended half-on, half-off the bed, with my shoulder and cheek against the rug and my injured, largely bandaged ankle on the bed. It would have been comical, had I been able to laugh without intensifying the pain.

“I SAID RELAX! You will injure yourself more.”

Sure, yelling is going to help me. I wish I had said it, but at that point I couldn’t have managed a whisper.

Much to my loathing, he quietly placed me back on the bed. I knew how to handle fighting with Sariel but a caring Sariel was beyond my ability to handle. “I have not cared enough to heal in over two thousand years, but I will try.”

Apparently, if you do not love, you cannot heal. My pain-ridden brain knew I would want to know this information later. It was soon proved evident by Sariel’s pathetic tries. “I AM THE SECOND MOST POWERFUL FALLEN ONE, AND I CAN’T HEAL!” With that, he stormed off the bed, threw open his dominate wings, and soared into the dark, night sky. It was only then that I realized how long I had been out.

I wanted to get ready for my saviors’ arrival but was unable to move. Taking a sip from a glass of water next to me was about all I could do before collapsing into the pillows. I must have fallen back asleep because, the next thing I knew, cold fingers were prying my eyes open.

“Wake up. You need to take these.” I realized he held some pills in front of my face.

“Not a chance will I take a drug from you.” My whispered reply sounded far from the antagonizing taunt I wished it to be.

“You will, whether I have to force you to or not. You were very stupid to try to escape. I am disappointed in your reasoning skills. I thought you better.”

At least he only thinks I was trying to escape. A wave of relief washed over me. I don’t know why I had it in my mind that he would automatically jump to a GPS conclusion. He seemed to have followed a more logical path of reasoning, thinking that I was trying to climb my way out of this prison. Well, if my cavalry is coming, I need to be out of some of this pain.

“Fine, but I won’t take them from your hand like an injured bird. Give them to me and get me some more water.” He scowled at the command but did as I requested without further comment. I barely even noticed the scratch as they went down my throat before falling back into a drug-induced sleep.

“CODA? WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU???” I never thought I would like being yelled at by my boyfriend – or whatever he was – but the sound of his voice was the sweetest song I could have imagined.

“I fell.” Even in my dream world, I couldn’t escape the pain. It cascaded throughout my body as I tried pulling him towards me.

“NO! DON’T MOVE!” I instinctively stopped moving. Knowing he had my best interest in mind, my body didn’t even question obeying. “If you hurt too much, you’ll wake.”

If I had any intention of pushing my I-am-woman-hear-me-roar, it was far-gone. I needed to stay sleeping. “Did it work?”

“Coda, I’ve been waiting for you for two days! What happened?” When I had seen the dark sky, it must have been even later than I thought – two whole nights later.

“I tried climbing the walls. Literally. I wanted to get high enough that the GPS signal would pick up.”

“We have been getting false blips from all over the area for the past three days now. What time did this happen? And why would you put yourself in danger like that? You could have injured yourself further.” He gingerly inspected my ankle. “You shattered both of the bones and sprained the other ankle as well. Please do not move unless it’s a life and death situation. The bone fragments can do some major damage. I’m sorry. I can’t heal inside a dream. You will have to wait until we can get you.”

“Wow, both huh? That must be some sort of record!” Trying to lighten the mood

didn’t help. I was quickly learning how much it bothered Jeremiah to be helpless. “Sorry. It was the morning after we spoke. Probably around an hour after I woke up. I had eaten and then Sariel left. I took a bath and got around to my plan. We’re in luck though, because Sariel thinks I was just trying to escape. He has no idea whatsoever about the GPS.”

My optimism had come out of nowhere. There are times in your life when things are so crazy, you sit back and laugh. There is just nothing else to do. Other times in a person’s life are so deep and dark, that you have to look up. When you’re sitting waist deep in the muck at the bottom of the pit, there is just nothing else to do but be optimistic. Maybe this was me growing up.

“I had wondered why your clothes didn’t crunch when I sat down.” I smiled into him. Of course he caught the bath part of the whole speech.

We were on my bed. Not the bed in my prison, but my lavender bed at home, with him sitting carefully beside me. I wished to curl up in his lap like I had in my last dream, but could do nothing more than lie there. After he was done diagnosing the extent of my injuries, he began massaging the tension from my hands. Coming from a family of two boys plus me, I never got to do the girly things like manicures and pedicures. Ashley was always trying to get me to do them with her, but it seemed more work than relaxation. And there was nowhere close to go besides the ski lodges’ “spas,” which charged an arm and a leg. Having never gotten one, I had nothing to compare it to, but I would have said that Jeremiah knew exactly where to massage on my hands to make my whole body relax. Kind of like those guys in the mall claim to be able to do.

“Why can you massage my muscles and get them to loosen in a dream, but not heal?”

“I wondered that same thing, but do not know. It is just how it is. Something about physical versus spiritual most likely. When healing, I don’t physically touch and fix the problem.”

“Yeah, and why again, can you even be in my dream?”

“That’s the other thing that I do. Mostly it is sending visions to people. Visions of encouragement, visions of hope, sometimes even prophetic visions.” He shot me a knowing look. “Since I have to guide those visions, often I enter them, but always in the background. You are the first person that I have ever been able to center the vision around myself.”

It took my disheveled mind a couple seconds before I grasped what he was saying.

“Wait, you brought me my nightmare? And you never told me?” I struggled to sit up, needing to look him in his eyes. “Why? Those months destroyed me. I don’t even know how to describe how much it hurt, Jeremiah.” I wanted to say that he hurt me, but couldn’t bring myself to say it.

“I did not know you when I first started the cycle to show every night.” Rushing on when he saw my furious look, “Not that it makes any difference but it was just another job. The visions themselves don’t even to me. It was one of the billions I’ve delivered. When I got to know you, got to love you, I tried stopping it. There were many times that I almost outright disobeyed to save you from that torment.”

“But disobeying would mean you fall!”

“Yes, but if it put you out of distress, I would do it in a heartbeat. It was your dad that stopped me. He said that you would need me later and that I would be of no use fallen. I got permission to have it lifted for the one night that you needed to physically recover and heal from your concussion.”

So that’s why I didn’t have it that night.

He began playing with the drawstring of my hand-me-down and oh-socomfortable sweatpants.

“I hate saying this, hate using this excuse, but I did try telling you. On a couple of occasions I tried and was stopped.” His shoulders slumped further with this last ission.

Once I choose to trust someone, they will have that trust forever. It is a good quality, but also a fault. Choosing to see the good in that person sometimes causes me to excuse the bad. I took a few minutes to process this information. Again, a trust issue was thrust in-between us. Do I believe that you really tried to tell me? The question that it all broke down to circled round and round my head. Yes. I do. More than anything, I believed him. My basis being that my dad trusted him and called him good. I would dive into any situation headfirst if my dad said it was good. Of course, my emotions also longed to believe he was good and was not lying. Time would tell.

Bying the trust issue was the angst playing across his eyes. Somehow, my soon-to-be savior and personal angel was the one to need my forgiveness in this relationship. Sure, it was me he was hurting, but knowing his insecurities made him feel real to me. If there were not insecurities on his side, he would be perfect

and all knowing. There would be no way I could have even stood before him, much less be in a 50/50 relationship.

Stilling his hands with mine, I caught his glance. “I forgive you. You did not have a choice, and I believe you tried telling me. I wish things were different. I wish we could be a normal couple. But we aren’t. And I love you. If I didn’t, believe me, I would not put up with this monitoring.” Someday, this has to end. It will.

“Thank you.” The whispered words warmed my heart. “You are going to wake soon. I will look through the logs and find where the GPS pings came from at that time. We’ll be together soon, and I promise I’ll fix you.”

I could tell he needed to redeem himself before me. “Hey, Miah?” My vision was getting fuzzy – a sure sign that I was waking, so I needed to speak quickly. “Tell my dad and Tim I love them, will you? And that no matter what happens, tell them they need to go on. Promise me you’ll make them. Promise me you won’t let them fall, trying to get me back.” He understood what I meant and that even though my dad was already fallen, he was close to redemption and needed to stay on that track. “Oh, and Miah? The same goes for you.”

I waited until I heard his soft “I promise” before letting my bedroom completely fade from vision.

It had been a complete week since I had arrived in that hole. Generally, I was an active person. For as much as I loved to read, I also loved change. I could read 24/7, as long as I was changing my surroundings. My room, the store, a hidden nook in the forest, any way to change the scene was fine. Being locked inside this beautiful, but dark and echoing cave was about to drive me insane. On top of it all, I was no longer just stuck in the cave, but stuck in that bed. My prison

walls were gradually closing in.

My company no longer kept his distance, but instead insisted on being next to me at all times. Sariel brought us both meals in bed, and, as I could not tolerate moving, he ate next to me. I could not eat with his pasty arm touching mine and pushed more food around my plate than I ate. Any movement was torture, so even my usual spot to eat on the floor was not an option.

He brought me books to read in bed and read alongside me. I did not want to be, but I was at grateful for the help. He could have left me to manage on my own (or not manage as the case may have been) but was helping me instead. On the outside my guard was as high as it had always been, but I could see the angel that he once was and wondered what or who it would take to crack his bitter shell.

I had just begun hobbling over to the partition, when a shining light from above caught my attention. At first I thought it was a reflection off of one of the stalactites, but it was much too bright.

“Hey! Help me!!!” The words were out of my mouth before I thought twice, bringing Sariel instantly to my side.

His slimy hands clamped over my mouth quieting any further sound I would have made. “If you would like to live, you will NEVER do anything like that again.” I did not know if someone was really out there or if it was merely a reflection from a ing plane, but I hoped against hope that someone, anyone had heard me.

By the following day, still nothing had happened. I was close to losing my last sliver of hope. It seemed that almost every day I felt as I was losing the last thing I had left to look forward to. Then something would happen to make me lose more, and I would realize I was still holding onto something. At that point, there was almost none left.

Taking comfort in the fact that Jeremiah promised not to fall or let anyone else for that matter, I contented myself with a life in the cave. Things could have been far worse for me. Sure, I was stuck with an ancient, slimy, fallen angel but at least he was attentive and seemed to care for me in his own way. He had gotten upset when I hurt myself, so at least he cared for my health. He wanted to make me comfortable to the extent that he furnished his prison-cave with the most expensive furniture I could imagine. Sariel was not the devil by any means.

It was high noon as I sat in the center of the room, soaking in the stalactite reflections of the sun that I had come to believe I might never see again. Since Sariel had left somewhere, I had cautiously moved all the pillows from the bed to the floor and made it as far as to where I was lying before collapsing. Gradually, as the pain dulled back to a constant throb, I began to enjoy myself.

My eyes were closed in a sun-induced daydream when my forehead was smacked by something. Instantly on defense, I gazed around trying to see what had hit me. I was in no shape to defend myself, but I still wanted to be aware of what was going to attack me next. This intention was hindered by the fact that I could only move as far as my hips could pivot. I completely missed the dark figure that was descending the rope behind my back, until I heard a thump and an “Agh.”

“Coda, you’re ok! Come on girl, let’s go. Get up!”

“Anthony? I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE HERE!”

“Hey, Sweets! Yeah, I’m here.”

Displaying love and comfort, his azure eyes stared into mine. These eyes mesmerized me, as if he could see into my soul by his gaze alone. He stood ready to jump back on the rope and leave. At that point, I wanted nothing more than him to hold me as any big brother would, and tell me that it was going to all be ok.

That thought reminded me, “Where are my dad and brother?” The question sounded less interrogating because of the tremendous joy that had overcome me at seeing someone familiar.

“Oh. They’re up on top. Let’s go. We’ll see them in a minute.”

At some point in a person’s life they need to be coddled. Most people at that point would choose a parent. Whether it’s their mother or father, they need to be held and to be told that everything was all right. That the world was still round and the stars still shone. I was far beyond wanting to be coddled or wanting my dad. At that point, I needed my dad. My very existence seemed to depend on it. He would have known that. He would have insisted on being the first down the rope to get to me. Knowing I was hurt would only increase his fervor.

Something was amiss. “Wait, why aren’t they here? Yell for them so they can come down and help us. I can’t do this on my own.”

“Come on, Sweets! We don’t need their help right now. They’ve got to stay in the get-away van. Who knows when that monster’s coming back! Let’s go!”

“I can’t. Didn’t Jeremiah tell you? I can barely move.” Even though something was definitely not right about this situation, I knew if it got me out of that cave, I would go with anything. Well, almost anything.

“Oh, yeah. He mentioned it.” I got the feeling that he had no idea what I was talking about and determined it would be really smart at that point to not offer up additional information. He was still standing next to me, as if he were expecting me to jump up and him climbing the rope. Anthony was acting weird, giving wings to my suspicions. The joyful tears that had been brimming my eyes a moment prior, quickly dried.

Anthony then looked me over. When his gaze finally landed on my ankles he couldn’t stop the anger from lashing in his eyes.

“Coda! What happened?” His surprise soon followed the initial fury. “How are you going to climb?”

“Well, I would say you have to carry me, but I don’t have the slightest idea how that will happen.”

“Ok.” After a quiet minute ed, he continued, “I’m going to make a loop at the end here. I’ll climb up and you will have to sit in it and let me pull you. Can you do that?” Anthony had always been a quick thinker. It’s why as a kid I always liked to be on his team.

“I think so.” In reality, I had no idea. If I fell, it would most likely be to my death. I wished that I had time to fall asleep and somehow meet Jeremiah to ask him what the heck was going on, but it was now or never. I need to hold on to the rope because of my dad and Tim. They need me. It was that thought that solidified my decision. “Yes. I can hold on.” I have to.

“Good.” He had finished the loop with a fisherman’s knot and reached down to brush the hair from my face. “We have much to talk about. I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” What else could I have said? He was beginning to worry me in more ways that I knew how to describe.

“Wait, Anthony!”

“What? We need to go!”

“No, it’s just I can’t leave without those.” I pointed to my mother’s journals that sat next to the bed.

He quickly ran over and grabbed them before returning to my side. “Good now?”

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

With that, he finally squatted down to give me the hug I had been wanting since his arrival. He then picked me up and helped me into the low-lying knot. He had placed it on a chair, so I would just have to sit until he was up and ready to pull. I tried to argue that I could hobble to the chair, but he had already had me cradled in his strong arms. I let my head fall against his chest and breathed his familiar scent. He smelled of his mom’s cooking. He smelled of childhood memories. Instead of losing myself in memories, I managed to grab a pillow and throw it into the loop underneath me.

With a feather kiss on my forehead, he was scurrying up the rope. I noticed there were knots in it, easing his ascent. I had a moment’s panic when he disappeared over the top, but relaxed when he appeared back, calling, “Clear. You ready?”

“As much as I will ever be,” I responded bravely.

“I’m sorry Coda, but this will probably hurt.” The unusual usage of my given name was all the warning I needed of his seriousness.

The rope began to rise, taking me with it. As my weight settled into the sharp line of rope under my thighs, a sheering pain shot into my ankle. Pure will was the only thing that kept me from blacking out. I managed to stay awake until I finally felt the sharp rocks and began pulling myself to the safety of the ground. The last thing I feeling was Anthony’s big hands safely holding me.

Chapter 19

“Fearless is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again…. even though every time you’ve tried before you’ve lost.” ~Taylor Swift~

Waking in a new place and with someone touching you is always disorienting. Add a kidnapping and prisoner situation to that equation and the disorienting circumstance turns downright terrifying. As I regained consciousness, I quickly tried to assess my situation prior to opening my eyes. A warm body was pressed to mine as comforting hands combed my hair.

“Miah.” His name was a whispered song from my lips. It wasn’t until the body next to me stiffened and stopped combing that I opened my eyes a fraction and realized my error.

“No, it’s still me. Plain-old Anthony. You know, the one who just saved you when no one else could.”

“Anthony!” I tried my most excited voice as I turned into him and threw my arm around him.

Apparently I had become a better actor than I was before, because he graciously began stroking my hair again, and the tension left his body.

“I thought you were gone for good. I couldn’t have lived with that.” His body shuddered involuntarily at his whispered ission.

It was my turn to stiffen. I did not like where this conversation was going. I had neither the emotional nor physical strength. “Shh. Anthony, I am going to be ok. Just get us home, and my dad will fix it all.” Where is my dad and why isn’t he here?

“No, Coda, don’t hush me. I need to say this. I have needed to say this for the past eleven years but never got the courage. Then someone came and tried to steal you away from me. Coda, I love you. I have always loved you. You belong with me. It’s how it’s supposed to be. We’re the same – you and I.”

“Anthony, can we please talk about this later?” I was beginning to be aware of my surroundings and did not like them at all. We were lying on a mattress in the back of some van. I knew that the Johnson’s did not have a van, which meant that Anthony was working with someone else or had rented the van – both very traceable options. “We need to go. Sariel will definitely be looking for me.”

“That’s all you have to say?” His eyes poured with pain. I never meant to hurt him, but I could see I’d wounded him far beyond my intentions.

“No, I mean, we can talk more later. I promise. We need to move! We need to get away from him. Please, Anthony! I’d rather die than go back with him!” My hands rose on their own accord and cupped his face. I lightly ran my thumb over the crinkles by his eyes until the stress left them. He finally closed his eyes and leaned into my familiar hands.

“Shh,” the rest of his anger dissipated upon seeing my distress. “You were out for over three hours. I carried you to the van and we left. We are at a rest stop off of I-70, just past Grand Junction. I would have kept going but I needed to reassure myself that you were ok.” He had quit touching me when he began his ever-lasting love speech but had sunk down next to me again, tracing circles on the t-shirt covering my stomach. His close proximity had never bothered me before, but I was beginning to feel the same claustrophobic feeling I’d had in Sariel’s wings. I needed to play this cool, but I knew I could never express my undying love to him. He was like a brother – I loved him as such and nothing more. I owed him the truth. Apparently my uneasiness got a hold of my

emotions and speech before I could rein it in because I lost all gentility and focus. The only thought I could decipher was that we were moving away from my family.

“What?!?! Why are we in Grand Junction? I want to go home! I need to go home!” Why didn’t he think to assure my worrying family that I was ok?

“No. We can’t.” His hardened tone frightened me almost as much as the fact that he no longer looked into my eyes. “I was allowed to get you, but only if you are never heard from again. We are allowed to start over; begin anew. Just you and me, Coda. The way it was always supposed to be. With no Jeremiah.”

No Jeremiah. I knew that my world would be meaningless without him. For as much as I wanted to shy away from “forever,” somehow, a forever with Jeremiah had wormed its way into my soul. He was right. I needed him like air.

“Anthony,” he turned into my hand when I laid it on his face again. Gentle Coda, be gentle. “Anthony, we can’t run away. It would kill my family. You your best friend, Tim? You know as well as I do that he wouldn’t survive if someone took me away.” I managed to regain my calm and tender approach. Reminding him of people he loved would soften him to my requests much more quickly than a fight, which was bound to happen had I mentioned Jeremiah. I knew Anthony.

“I’m sorry, Beautiful.” The regret surrounding him sucked me in too, leaving an ache in my gut that I thought I had left in the cave. “We can’t.” With that, he scooted to the end of the mattress, pushed some buttons into a lock, opened the back doors, and got out. I stared at his back, speechless. “I am sorry. You know I love them like my own family. But I love you more, and I can’t risk you.”

With that, he closed the doors, and I heard the locks click back into space. He should thank his lucky stars that I am injured because I never would have gone willingly otherwise.

“My Love, what have you gotten yourself into now?” Prior to responding, I opened my eyes to make sure it was actually Jeremiah talking. I had mistakenly thought it was him twice and instead woke up to another man in bed with me. Seeing his shimmery form becoming solid, I finally relaxed. Also, I was back in a dream.

“I didn’t do anything!” Was he serious? I was being kidnapped for a second time, and it was my fault? The angry tears came before I could think twice. “I did what I had to do to get out of the cave. I am sorry that I did not suspect my brother’s best friend for having a sketchy agenda.”

Realizing his error, he quickly crossed to me and placed one soothing hand over my mouth. The other, he ran under my eyes, catching the betraying tears pouring out. “No, Love, don’t cry! I was joking. None of this is your fault. Babe, stop crying! Please.” He gently kissed both of my closed eyes while pulling me into his lap. “You know I can’t handle your tears. Tell me what to do!”

“Ahhh!” My dream world was starting to fade, so I quickly sucked in a breath and tried to numb the pain.

“I’m sorry, did I jostle your ankles? I tried to be careful! Once again I am not doing anything right!”

“No, you’re not.” It was more of a chuckle, though, than fighting words. “Just love me. Hold me. And for God’s sake, please come and rescue me! I’m tired of waking in a bed with other men next to me!”

That thought sobered him quickly. “What?”

“Nothing, just when I fell and ed out, I thought you had seen my signal and rescued me. Instead it was Sariel I woke up to. Then, when I ed out this second time at the top of the cave, I thought you all were waiting there for Anthony and me. Both times I woke thinking I was in your arms.”

“Anthony? You mentioned a brother’s best friend earlier? What has he done now? Are you with him? Where are you?”

“Well, I was minding my own business in my cave home, when he popped in for a visit. I suspected something because none of you were with him and because he didn’t have any idea I was injured, but I figured it couldn’t be that bad if I got out of the cave. I am just one step closer to being home. I need to be home, Miah!”

“You will be soon.” I didn’t know if it was a prophetic proclamation or just determination, but I liked the sound of his guarantee. “Now that you are out of the granite, the GPS will have a positive, solid signal. We’ll be with you in a few minutes.”

“It’ll be longer than that. Anthony has gone completely crazy. He says that he made a deal with someone to get me out, but I can never be seen or heard from again. We’re driving away. Last I knew, we had ed the state line into Utah.

Who knows where he’s heading, but he thinks we’re going to live somewhere, together, forever.” I didn’t mention the undying love part, as Jeremiah had already told me weeks ago that Anthony liked me, but I was too blind to see. Maybe if I had listened, I wouldn’t have been in a van, driving cross-country. No, I still would have been, as I would have gone with the devil himself to get out of my granite prison.

“Ok, I need to go then. We’ll start driving and bring the laptops along. We can at least start out. He’ll have to stop and sleep sometime. And, for his well-being, I pray he doesn’t try to sleep with you. I don’t think I will be in a forgiving mood when I finally get to you.”

“Miah. When you get to me, you will be preoccupied with me and not able to worry about petty things like Anthony.”

I didn’t tell him how my heart ached for Anthony, nor about how I wished that I was the right girl for him. He deserved to be loved like he loved me. But I couldn’t give him that. Even with the kidnapping included, I still loved Anthony like a brother. Sure, he had made a mistake, but families forgive each other. I still trusted Anthony with my life and knew without a doubt that the only thing we would be doing in the back of that van would be sleeping. He wouldn’t dishonor me in that way. I knew he would wait forever for me if I gave him the slightest hint of a possibility. Breaking his heart would break a piece of mine as well.

“Ok, but please be careful. You don’t have to do anything now. We’ll get you before you know it. Just rest and get better. Take some of your pills and relax.”

“I can’t. They’re in the cave. Oh, and Miah, we’re in a van. The inside is white, so I’m guessing the outside is as well. There are not any windows in the back and it’s big enough to have a twin mattress. Also, he has the back doors locked

with an electronic code that he put in. I can’t get out, nor can you get in without that code.”

“Coda, do you not know who you’re talking to? I can easily tear the doors off the back of the van to get you out. I could fly there much faster, but I have no idea exactly where you’re at, so I need to at least stick with your father and brother until we do. But believe me, I will get you out.”

“Have I told you today that I love you?” I could feel the pull of the real world taking hold.

“No, but I love you too. Hang in there.” With that, he was gone and I was back in the rear of a moving vehicle. Strange, how I seemed to have traded an extraordinarily luxurious prison for this van down by the river.

Laughing at myself, I imagined Anthony tending a fire by a river and me sitting in this van, with my bare feet hanging off the end. I chuckled a bit more before falling back into a restless sleep, plagued with nightmares of caves, wings, and falling. My subconscious no longer needed to make scenes, as I had lived enough nightmares to last a lifetime.

We were slowing when I woke next. Anthony’s comforting face appeared with a halo of light behind his head, almost immediately after we stopped. He could be an angel. The thought came out of nowhere.

Climbing to where I was lying, he rested his head on his arm and turned to face me. Capturing my restless hands in his large one, he was still for a moment. It was a peaceful moment that brought back dozens of other similar ones.

“Shh. Don’t cry.” Even at eight years old, Anthony could not stand the sight of my tears. I could see the broken pieces of his heart in his eyes.

My six-year old self had woken to yet another dream of my mom. As much as my conscious denied her existence, my dreams never let me rest in peace.

“Coda, no one will ever hurt you again. I’m here.”

I let my head fall against his small chest and imagined a world that would let Anthony keep me safe. That was the first time, at six years old, that I realized I loved my brother’s best friend.

The morning came too quickly, and the four of us woke in a tangled mess of arms and legs on the living room floor. Anthony and I never spoke of the midnight comforting sessions, nor did Ashley or Tim ever suspect anything during our many sleepovers.

My focus could never be on escape if I thought of Anthony as the little boy I once loved. I needed to view him as, yet, another captor, and detach my heart. Sure, good luck with that Coda. Turning away from him, I noticed that the back windows there, painted white. Because of this, I could tell that it was pitch black outside, with an occasional pair of headlights ing by like slowly moving spotlights. I guessed we at another rest stop. Definitely needing a bathroom, I was determined to make a run for it.

My plan was shot by the fact that we were not at a rest area but a gas station.

This meant that the keys, which Anthony had to ask the attendant for, were on a huge wooden keychain and were for a little door on the side of the building. This door led to a one-room bathroom. No windows. No back door. Anthony carried me into it, setting me carefully down near the toilet before leaving and closing the door behind him.

Hearing the sigh he released as his back rested against the door almost made me lose any desire to escape. I could be happy with Anthony. The love I had for him was as much a part of me as anything. Before we had gotten out of the van, he had quietly stroked the side of my face while saying, “You know, I don’t have any memories without you? The earliest memory I have is when you opened the door for me, proceeding to scream in my face.”

Smiling, I knew just what he was talking about. I had opened the door, excited to find a friend. When I saw it was just a scrawny boy Tim’s age, I yelled “TIM,” and proceeded to walk away. I don’t think I even said “Hi.”

Mentally shaking myself, I took care of business and then reached to lean on the sink while dragging my bum leg behind me. Even this jostling sent stars to my vision and the edges turned black. How come when I really need an angel, none are around? Grimacing at the shooting pains, I washed my face and hands before calling Anthony. I hated being so dependent (especially on someone who had kidnapped me after all – talk about Stockholm syndrome!) but had no other choice. I could barely take a few hobbling steps without ing out. It looked like I would be taking Jeremiah’s advice after all, as it was impossible for me to run away.

No longer in the mood to play nice, I stopped us on the way to the van. He was lucky that there was not a soul in sight. The gas station looked closed for that matter. The attendant was no longer inside, and it was dark. Lucky – again – for Anthony, because with the swelling pain in my foot, I would have totally yelled and gotten him hauled off to jail. I would have regretted it later and felt horrible,

but I was ready to do anything to get rid of my pain.

“You know, I will go with you willingly if you let me say goodbye to my family.” I didn’t clue him in to the fact that Jeremiah was included as “family” to me, nor did I mention that my family would never let him take me, even if I wanted to go.

“Nice try, Kid, but no. We’re way away from any of the Irin family, and it has to stay that way.”

“I am a member of the Irin family.”

“Not for long. I plan on heading south, and we’re going to be married at some nice beach resort in Mexico. I know how much you love the sun. We’ll spend our honeymoon there and then, together, we’ll decide where we are going to spend the rest of our lives.”

I was far from being in the mood to be told what I was going to do and where I was going to do it. “EXCUSE ME!” I finally lost it. “I’m pretty sure that I was never ASKED to be married! Nor do I even want to be married! I’m only 16! I do not want to go to Mexico, I want TO GO HOME! Why can’t you understand that?”

The darkness hid his eyes, but I could see from how his forehead scrunched together that I had hurt him. His lips formed a tight line as he fought off whatever words he did not want to say. After all I had said, he was still protecting me – even from his own harsh words. I felt the strain in his arm, as he guided me along.

We had reached the van and he set me gently on the bumper to unlock the door. “I do understand that; I want to go home, too. But I am willing to give it all up for you. A little gratitude would be nice! You know, I practically had to sell my soul to the devil to get you out and even then only under restrictions. He will kill both of us if we go back. There’s no other way here, Coda. SO DEAL WITH IT! I’m trying to. At least we’re together!” His voice had gone from soft to matching mine in a matter of seconds. We did that – fed off each other. He couldn’t hold in his anger forever.

“DON’T YOU DARE YELL AT ME! I feel nothing for you! I used to think of you as my brother but not even that anymore! You’re just as bad as Sariel! You made your own choices and it is not my fault! Anthony…” My shoulders slumped as I looked away. His eyes drew me in too far for me to keep a level head. I lowered my voice a bit, “…please, let’s go home! We can deal with anything! I mean, you’re part of the angel club and everything.”

For a second I worried I had pushed him too far, but instead of hitting me, he merely used his white-knuckled fist to swipe the bangs off his face.

“Nephilim.” His jaw was set. Teeth clenched. Anthony had always been stubborn, but this time he really had his feet dug in.

“Yeah, whatever.” Anthony had no idea I was full angel, and I was glad at this point. For the first time, I felt relieved that God was guarding our speech and not letting us say things. If not, Tim would have told Anthony for sure, and I have no idea what he would have done with that information. “We can fight off whoever ‘he’ is that you keep worrying about!”

“In the van, Coda.” Well, that conversation went well.

“Not a chance.” With that, I lunged forward and tackled him to the ground. It felt like acid pouring down my right leg, but he had hit the pavement hard. I pushed up with my hands, only to be pulled back down again. Without knowing what was happening, I was spun around so that Anthony was now sitting on me.

“H-, AHH! CODA THAT HURT! I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.” He was furious. There was fire in his eyes as body held me in place. “Ok, here’s how it is going to go. I am now going to tie you up. I’ll get you a bucket to do your business and not open those doors again until we’re deep in Mexico. I had hoped you would embrace me and work with me. After all, I saved your life back there. Your precious Jeremiah was not going to find you. I did.”

I froze at the mention of Jeremiah. Not only was it cruel, but those words that he had uttered were the same fears that had been running through my head for the past week. How had Anthony found me? And how had Jeremiah not? Is it because he doesn’t want to? Squirming, I couldn’t help but scream in his face. “TALK ABOUT JEREMIAH AGAIN AND I’LL KILL YOU.” The words flew out before I could sensor them. The stress of being kidnapped – twice, being held against my will – twice, and now having my secret uncertainties thrown in my face had pushed me from livid and to outrageous. I said no more as anything I said would have been even worse than threatening him to kill him. And, even my anger didn’t fully erase years of loving Anthony.

Jumping off of me, he thrust his hands under my shoulders, dragging me back to the van. My ankles screamed in agony, and once again I saw stars. Tears blurred my vision and I twisted to see Anthony’s own were pouring down his face. Not wanting to know how much this hurt him as well, I flung my arms, trying to get free. How can you do this to me? The pain was too sharp to let the words fly off my tongue.

I figured he was trying at this point to knock me out, so obstinately I stayed awake. Barely. Once at the van, Anthony threw the right door open, pushed me up the bumper, so that my back was against the left door, and held me in place by placing his knee between my legs. I was forced to sit on his leg. Without the patience or the gentleness that usually radiated off of my former friend, he pushed my right side so I toppled into the open door of the van. I landed half-on, half-off the mattress. He grabbed my feet and sent them flying in over my head, doubling me. I felt the van rock with the force of the door shutting right before I let the pain take me to nothingness.

“Forget me, when you see him, just kill him.” I knew Jeremiah was near. There was warmth coming from behind me that only came when he was around. I wondered if it had something to do with being in God’s presence.

He immediately went on alert. “WHAT HAPPENED?”

“Please don’t yell. I can’t handle anymore. Just hold me.”

Without delay, he snuggled in close. We were both on our right sides, with my back pressed up against his chiseled chest. “I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry.” He lay close for what felt like an hour, the only sound being that of our pounding hearts and soft breathing. He kissed my hair and gently rubbed up and down my arm. He held me like this until I broke the silence.

“I’m sorry.” At any moment the tears would fall. My emotional calm was coming to an end.

“Don’t be. I should be more aware of how you are feeling. I am sorry. I am so upset that I can’t find you and tired of being away from you, that I am beginning to lose all self-control. I told you. Angels don’t do well away from their mate. The only reason your dad contained his self control and didn’t do something worse is because of you and Tim. He endured being apart from her to love and raise you. Now, will you please tell me what happened? Please?”

“I didn’t listen to you. I tried to fight him.”

“Well, of course you did. I knew you would. It’s part of what I love about you so much. You will not go down without a really good fight.”

With that, the dam broke. Shaking my whole body, I sobbed for the pain. I sobbed for my childhood and for the unfairness of my differentness. I sobbed for Sariel and for Anthony and the good that I could see in both of them, even though it was covered by mistakes and wrong doings. Finally, I sobbed for Jeremiah. As much as this hurt me, I knew it hurt him more. He was not used to caring for anyone besides fellow angels and God. He was also used to being in control and, from what I read in Sariel’s books, commanding thousands of angels. He was a heavenly boss, reduced to waiting and wondering if he would ever see the one he loves again.

Jeremiah held me close and whispered sweet nothings in my ear. Other than that, he let me cry. At least he knew of pain and of the need to release emotion. I wondered if he had cried like this after his fall. Had he wept for days, for years, for centuries?

“Miah, did you cry after you fell?”

“Oh, Coda, yes. You could have filled an ocean with the tears that fell. I cried for many more years that you could imagine. But looking back, I know that had I not fallen, I would know nothing of redemption. This is the reason why I now do my job so well. I understand the human race on a level that my brothers and sisters do not. It hurts now, but you are strong. Believe me, you will be ok. We will be ok.” He sounded like he was trying to encourage himself as well. And I let him.

“We sure are a messed up pair. Both of us – the only of our kinds. You the only fallen-turned-good again, me the only girl angel with human abilities.”

Alone, unless together. Did we ever have a choice or were we made to be together? Was I all right with not having a choice in who I loved, if the end result was better than I could have ever imagined? It was in that moment that I made up my mind. I would stop focusing on my “choice” and begin focusing on the overall outcome. Maybe my choice did not matter since I could not see the bigger picture anyway. After all, I was happy and falling in love. Now, if we could get beyond the kidnapping obstacles and back together, I would be even happier.

“Yes, we are.” I felt him silently chuckling and tried to turn towards him, only to be stopped by a building pain from moving.

Before I could blink, he was in front of me. “Is this what you were wanting?”

“Yeah.” I kissed him before he could say anything more.

Chapter 20

“One of the most tragic things I know about human nature is that all of us tend to put off living. We are all dreaming of some magical rose garden over the horizon instead of enjoying the roses that are blooming outside our windows today.” ~Dale Carnegie~

There was tension in the air when I awoke the following day. I couldn’t have told you where or why, but I knew someone was preparing for battle. Personally, I was feeling worse than I ever had. Only my legs hurt after my initial fall, but that had changed. After my skirmish with Anthony, my head hurt, my shoulders hurt, my ankles still throbbed consistently, and most of all, pieces of my heart had been left back in that gas station. Only after opening my eyes did I realize why my head and shoulders hurt. I was positioned where Anthony had thrown me into the van, only shifted a little from the drive. The top part of my body was now on the hard metal floor, with my hips and everything lower up on the mattress. I was sure every bump the van hit had bounced another concussion into my head.

Trying to move my hips and upper body without moving my ankles was tricky, but I eventually managed to heave the rest of my body onto the bed. Sighing, I had just laid down to rest when the van slammed to a stop, effectively sliding the mattress into the partition between the back and the front. My head cracked against the metal partition, and, for the countless time in a few days, I saw stars.

Prior to this whole new life, I had never blacked out, never broken a bone, never jumped anyone, and never threatened to kill anyone; I was an honest, good girl. Now, I was readying to inflict some serious hurt to someone. They taught us in self-defense classes that it was not always the most experienced or the biggest that won a fight, but the most determined or the angriest. Well, in this fight, I figured that was me. I had the most reason to win – it was my freedom afterall!

I banged on the partition a second time, only this time with my fist. “LEARN TO DRIVE IDIOT!” Great, I have resorted to name-calling.

Instead of answering with a typical, Anthony-like sarcasm, I heard the drivers’ side door slam shut. A second later, the back doors were flung open. Shielding my eyes from the bright light, I saw a large silhouette in the door coming

towards me. I pulled myself into a sitting position, trying to reach around the floor for any weapon. I seriously needed to go back to self-defense classes. So far, I had not defended myself once!

“Coda, you’re ok! Oh, my baby, we finally found you!”

“Dad?” Questioning my sanity did not sound like a bad thing by this point.

“Shhh, honey. It’s me. You’re going to be ok.”

With that, he placed his hands on my right ankle. I wanted to believe him – I really did – but for some reason I couldn’t. This whole experience had changed my view on life. I no longer trusted my own instincts. My own father’s touch should have created an environment of safety, but instead it was panic-inducing.

The warmth spread as healing began to numb the searing pain, causing a druglike dizziness to overcome me. My overworked senses sprang to life with a fever I’d never known prior. I can’t out! Who knows if this is all a dream and if I out I will never see my dad again!

“Daddy? Are you really here?” Just keep talking and you’ll stay awake.

“Yes, Sweetheart. I’ve got you. Now, rest.”

“NO! I can’t go or I will miss this dream! I need to talk to you.”

“Sweetheart, this is real. I am real, and I need you to rest so I can heal you properly. It’s me.”

“Prove it.” I was imagining all sorts of things, but primarily that this silhouette was really the “he” Anthony made a deal with, who changed his mind and came back to finish me off. The only way I could make that fear dissipate was to somehow have proof.

“Ok. On the day your mom left, you were wearing jeans and a T-shirt. From that day until 8th grade, you refused to wear jeans again. You told everyone you had a denim allergy, but in reality it was because they reminded you of her.” He did not even sound exasperated, like he completely understood the need for reassurance.

“IT IS YOU!” I could no longer control the tears that sprinted down my face and splashed into my lap.

“It is. Now sleep my baby girl. I’ll still be here when you wake.” With that, he slid me down onto the mattress, placed his hand on my forehead, and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Pure confusion. I woke to absolute and utter confusion. I had no idea where I was, who I was with, or whether I was in danger. The only thing I could hear was the pounding of my heart. Its bass beat, completely drowning out any outside noises, compelled me to know I would have to open my eyes to get any understanding as to where I was.

Slitting my eyelids, I saw lavender. My eyes flew open to take in more and confirming my earlier suspicion, I found myself lying in my room. Just a second later I saw Jeremiah in a seat next to the bed. He was doubled over in his chair, with his forehead and face on my bed. This was the first time I had seen him sleep peacefully – in an uncomfortable chair no less. The only other time I had seen him sleep was when he was injured and he was plagued with pain and not at all peaceful. I wished I could view his face, but I instinctively knew that trying to touch him would rouse him instantly. Instead, I comforted myself by examining the way his ebony hair fell casually over his head and the gentle rise of his shoulders with each breath.

Trying to move as silently as possible, I slipped off the bed to go relieve myself.

“You’re awake.”

I groaned as my effort was for naught.

“Go back to sleep,” I whispered. “I’ll be right back.”

“How do you feel? Is the pain gone?” Of course, he had ignored my questioning of his well-being and only focused on mine.

“Completely. Now, go back to sleep.”

“No, I don’t want to miss time with you.”

I knew arguing was futile. “Ok, let me go to the bathroom first.”

Quietly, I closed my door and entered the bathroom. It only took a couple minutes to wash my face, brush my teeth, go to the bathroom, and get back into my bed. It was a good thing, too. I was far more exhausted than I originally thought! There was no pain left, but I could tell my body had gone through quite an ordeal.

“Come here with me.” Jeremiah was way too far away in the chair where he sat. I needed his solid form to assure me that he was really there and not an illusion. I thought he may get under my comforter with me but resigned myself to disappointment when he only lay on top.

Once again, it was as if he could read my mind because he pulled me close and began rubbing soothing circles on my back. Not wanting anything else at that moment, I pressed my face into his chest and breathed in his smell. The mixture of Tide and the sweet, musky smell his body gave off intoxicated me. How he managed to smell like a clean, old bookstore was beyond me.

“Am I dreaming still?”

“No, you’re awake and here. You are…Coda, I…” I waited patiently while he figured out how to say whatever it was he wanted to say. I was simply basking in the fact that I was home. My dad and Tim were nearby and safe. I would go and see them in as soon as my body decided it could move again.

“Coda, I don’t think I can allow you out of my sight again.”

“What?” Before my anger got too carried away, he started again.

“No, please. I’m not saying this right. It is not that I think you would do anything or that you need me. I just am not strong enough to lose you again. I was so close to breaking. Had you been gone for even a week longer, I think I may have chosen an easier path and made a deal with anyone to get you home safely – even Lucifer himself. It scares me senseless to think of falling again, but I could not bear to live, knowing you were alive and living through that. Does that make sense?”

How does one respond to that? He did not care for his eternity, were I not happy. From what I gathered, he would be content with Hell if he knew I was ok.

“What if we couldn’t be together if you fell? We do not even know if there is a way for me to fall, since apparently I can sin and ask for forgiveness like a human is able to.”

His breath caught. I was glad that he was giving my question the thought it deserved. Finally he answered, “I would hurt for eternity. I would have given up my God as well as my love. I can see that here and now, but I was not thinking clearly when my mind was preoccupied by the horrors you could have been facing. But even now, after thoroughly thinking it through, I would still do it.”

I had not been ready for this answer.

“But why? How could you do that to me? You would not only condemn

yourself, but condemn me as well. Because there would be NO WAY for me to ever get to you!”

“I would do it because it would ensure your safety.”

“Fine,” I needed to sit up to get this point across “Jeremiah, I love you. But this relationship will be fifty-fifty. We will not make decisions for each other. You need to trust me. You do not get to choose to make me alone for eternity. It will not work like that. If you think it is going to, there’s the door.”

I felt my shoulders collapsing in as I dropped eye . There was no way I could keep my composure if I was staring into the gateway of his soul. I managed to keep my face stoic, even as my heart broke. I needed him to realize how serious I was. I would end things. It would probably destroy me, but better now than later.

“I don’t know if I can do it.” His whisper tore into my façade. “I want to be able to be the man you want me to be, but I could not stand by if someone were torturing you.”

Without allowing it to happen I met his gaze once again. The honey-colored specks of his eyes had almost disappeared under the cloud of emotions fogging the sapphires that typically greeted me. I had to reassure him.

“Miah, no one tortured me. The only injuries I sustained, I did to myself.”

“But they could have.” I had to lean only an inch away from his drooped head to hear him.

I kissed the crown of his head prior to tilting him to face my eyes.

“And you would make me live through you being tortured. Even if you sold your soul, I could still be taken again, and then we would not have anyone one our side. We need to have the hope of being together one day. Without that hope, I never would have made it through these last weeks. I need to know – without a doubt – that you will be waiting for me. I doubt that you can redeem yourself after falling twice. I am not willing to bet our future on that slim possibility. You need to stay the good little angel that you are, ready to welcome me into heaven one day.” Hopefully alive, but hey, we’ll cross that bridge later.

The silence stretched. What am I going to do if he won’t agree?

“Fine. I promise. But only because I will be better suited to save you later on should the need arise. I will be doing everything in my power though, to stop it from ever happening again.” Somehow, I felt that his power wouldn’t be enough.

I fell into his waiting kiss, trying to ignore the knot that had formed in the pit of my stomach. After a short embrace I pulled back.

“I know you need to see Tim and your father.” It was eerie how he could almost read my thoughts.

“I will be back.”

“I know.”

I was at the door before he spoke again. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” Knowing he would not want a scene, I smiled against the door and quickly let myself out.

“Tim?” Noticing it was after midnight, I kept my knock soft in case he was already sleeping.

“Come in, Kid.”

Pushing his door open, I found him at his desk, reflections of the computer screen saver shooting fireworks across his face.

“I thought I heard you guys talking but didn’t want to interrupt anything.” Tim and my wall bordered each other, and we often could hear conversations through them.

“We were just talking, you know.” Instantly my hand covered the mouth that had just kissed a boy, betraying any innocence I was claiming.

“I know, Squirt, I was just giving you a hard time.”

He had briefly looked up when I entered, but had long since gone back to the fireworks. Arms resting on his desk, his fingers buried in his hair. This was not the man I knew. I had not seen my brother this distressed since our mom left.

“Tim.” I stilled his bouncing knee before he tapped a hole through the floor. Leaving my hand on his leg, I willed his eyes to once again meet mine.

“Sorry, I guess I’m not in such a talking mood. Come here,” he finally gave me his full attention and held out his arms. “I am glad you’re safe.”

For the second time in one day, I was nestled with my face in a boy’s chest. This chest, even though built so similarly to Jeremiah’s, held a completely different feeling. Having Tim hold me made me feel absolutely safe, like being consoled after falling off my bike in 1st grade. I sat on his lap and held on to my anchor.

It was then that the tears began to fall. I had kept it together through talking to Jeremiah but managed no longer.

“Shhh, it’s ok. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” Most guys shy away from tears like a cat from water, but not Tim. I guess he became desensitized from all the years of drying mine. Maybe he would shy away from some other girl’s tears, but when I broke out the waterworks, he only gripped stronger.

“I was so scared.” My whispered confession was the first time I had itted it

out loud. Realizing how true it was brought on a new level of hysterics. Tim let me cry it out, only letting me go for a second to reach for some Kleenex on his nightstand.

After a while, I began to think of things beyond my fear and myself. It was not until I ed Tim staring at the computer screen saver that it hit me. “Oh, Tim! I’m so sorry!”

I did not need a response because I understood his grief. His best friend had betrayed him. And this betrayal was not even just a cold shoulder; it was a pure, stab in the back. “You know he thought he was saving me.”

“I will not make excuses for him and neither will you, Coda! He tried to kidnap you! He hurt you!” Because of the 18-year guy Tim was, he stopped short of adding “He hurt me, too,” that I knew was attached to the end of his outburst.

It was my turn to hold Tim. Technically, I was still on his lap, but he went limp and I took the advantage to wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. I could tell that he had already cried on his own about this and would not in front of me. It was not that Tim wanted to look tough in front of me, but I knew that my brother would not want to add additional stress on my shoulders. He would not want me worrying about him. Little did he know, I already did and would continue to till the day I die.

By the time I finished talking with Tim, my dad was fast asleep. I quietly let myself into his room, kissed his forehead, and slipped back out, whispering, “I love you, Daddy” before shutting his door.

“Well, that’s it.” Jeremiah zipped shut the suitcase that I was sitting on in one swift, easy movement. I had been struggling with shutting it for five minutes. At least it had felt that long.

It was Friday, two weeks and a lifetime after my first kidnapping occurred. After a night of reacquainting myself with everyone, I was exhausted and slept for most of the next couple days. My dad informed me later of the extent of my injuries. He claimed that, had I not been pure angel, I never would have had use of my right ankle again. The bones were not only shattered the first time, but the muscles and ligaments around them had torn every time I had made major movements from then on.

“Are you sure? Do we have to go?” I looked from my dad’s somber eyes to Jeremiah’s.

“We’ve been over this sweetheart. You and Jeremiah need to go and lay low.”

“But why can’t you and Tim come? They’ll use you to get me to come out of hiding.”

“As far as we know, only Sariel has figured out who I am and who you are. He wanted you to himself and because of that, kept you off the radar of any other fallen angel in the area. We will be fine. But to be sure, I need you to be safe. I trust Jeremiel with my life. He is the ONLY one besides your mother that I would let you go with.”

“Oh, Daddy!” I threw my arms around his waist and waited for him to tell me this was just a joke and that we could stay. My heart knew otherwise.

While my dad was healing me, Tim and Jeremiah interrogated Anthony. I had not ask what that entailed because I did not want to know. They found out that he had gone to Samyaza, who, apparently, is the top dog of the fallen angels. My dad and Jeremiah later had a huge fight over the fact that it appeared that this Sam guy lived close by. My dad said something about how safety is knowing where your enemy is at all times and being under the radar, whereas Jeremiah thought that my dad should have moved us to the other side of the world.

Which brought us to leaving. My belongings were in two fifty-pound bags, ready to be put onto the airplane. Jeremiah and I had cash in hand and were going to take the first flight overseas to wherever that may take us. Knowing that my cover had been blown, my dad agreed to Jeremiah’s suggestion that the two of us should leave.

Since Anthony had not told (because he did not know) Samyaza that I was pure angel, we felt comfortable enough to go home for the week and rest. Had that information been known, all four of us would have left immediately for places unknown. We never would have seen our house, the bookstore, or any of our belongings again. I would not have been able to give Ashley my tearful hello and goodbye. Again, I was thanking God that Anthony did not know and that Ashley thought that we were merely Nephilim, so she was completely safe from questioning.

“Well, what’ll it be?” The two of us stood looking at the departure screen in Denver International Airport terminal west.

I had said my goodbyes at home with closed curtains, not wanting to alert any possible watchers that Jeremiah and I were leaving. Jeremiah and I had then left my house hours apart from each other. We had even taken two rental cars from two different agencies and took two routes to the airport. I was convinced it was

overkill but did not say a thing. Better safe than sorry.

Leaving Tim was hard, but he was already going to leave for school in the fall and I had been preparing for that. What I had not prepared for was leaving my dad. Ever. Yet, there I was, staring at departures with a guy that had been in my life for less than five months, ready to take on the world.

“How about Venice?” It felt like forever had ed since I told him I wanted to go to Italy.

He leaned down to give me a feather kiss, “Sounds lovely.” Stopping at my forehead to kiss it as well, his breath tickled my hairline. “And there’s a lovely school in the mountains we can attend in the fall.”

Sometimes things in life turn out much differently than we would have planned or even dreamt. Looking at all the people ing by, I caught myself wondering how many of them were running away as well. My future may not have looked too bad – considering most people do not have the loving safety net I have, but the uncertainties of it all had been keeping me up at night. How can someone expect me – a 16-year-old girl – to leave my family and travel across the world? Please keep them safe. I had begun to pray this prayer quite ritualistically.

Grabbing Jeremiah’s hand, I pulled him towards the counter. Even with all that had gone wrong, I had found him. And any future with him involved would eventually turn out ok. I had to believe this; if I did not it would have been the final rock knocked out of my foundation, and I would come tumbling down.

Special Thanks

Coda’s story would have never gotten out there, were it not for many people helping me along the way. For starters, a big “Thank you!” to God. Without Him, I am nothing. He gave me words; all I had to do was write it down. Secondly, thank you to my wonderful family. To Ronny, for all the nights he went to bed alone, while I stayed up writing. To my kids, for putting up with a mom who has scenes and random conversations running through her head at all times. To my parents and siblings, who always believed in me.

Next, I’d like to thank all my proofreaders. You guys are the best! Larissa, Heather, Carrie, Barbara, Leah, and Amy – just to mention a few. You spent countless hours pouring over my book, and again, without your help this wouldn’t have moved ahead. To everyone else that I’m forgetting right now, please do not think you’re completely forgotten. I often think of you and thank God for you in my life, as well as your help with this book. I’d also like to shout out to all my Kickstarter funders. Watcher would still be a file on my computer, were it not for your generosity.

Finally, my readers. THANK YOU!!!

Coming soon…

An apollo butterfly is a sight to behold. Extinct in most areas, the red circles staring at me from the bow of our gondola should not have been in Venice. Watching its silk wings flutter, I thought about change. If only I were a butterfly. Transformed into something beautiful.

But I wasn’t a butterfly. Instead I was the baby turtle. Hatched and left alone on the beach. Fending for myself while predators swooped in from above, near enough to startle the sand into my infant eyes. Finally reaching the water, only to find a whole new swarm of predators waiting for me there.

Cringing in fear I felt the weight of Jeremiah’s arm softly land on my shoulders. He fathered my temple with a kiss before whispering, “We’ll be alright.”

It wasn’t his reassurance but his companionship that finally snapped my view back to the reality of the gentle waves lapping against our gondola. We had finally made it to Venice.