The Ascended (2 page)

"Rules are rules," she said playfully as she punched the code into the mini-refrigerator sized safe that sat on the floor.

She pulled the heavy metal door open, extracting the cash till for the register. "I'm going to go boot up the register and start the coffee maker. Do you need help with that?" she asked, indicating the last box of books on the floor.

"Nah, I got it. You know me, I like to ogle at the covers before I place them in their new home," I said, docking my iPod onto the radio Joan kept in the stockroom.

Joan smiled at me and headed out the door as the new Katy Perry song blared out of the mini speakers. Keeping music on when others were not around to distract me was a definite must.

Bopping a bit to the music, I picked up the last heavy box of books off the floor and unpacked them onto the book cart with the others, sorting them by genres as I worked. When I started in June, Joan had allowed me to organize the books in the store in a more manageable system. It was a monster task, putting every book in appropriate genre sections, versus the standard alphabetical system Joan had used for years. All the hard work was well worth it though. Now when a customer has a specific book in mind, but can't remember the author or title, I can help without losing my mind.

I finished unpacking the last book when my current favorite song started playing on my iPod. It was an older song that I had discovered by chance shortly after Mark left, and it was as if the singer knew every emotion I was feeling. I cranked up the volume and sank into the chair at the desk as the music filled my head. I knew I was a glutton for punishment for even listening to a country song about lost love, but I couldn't seem to help myself, something about the lyrics spoke to my now empty soul.

Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to summon up Mark's image. I had once heard that when a person lost a loved one that they would often have difficulty recalling what they looked like as their mind began to distance itself. For me, it was the exact opposite. On the rare moments like these when I would allow myself to indulge in thinking about him, his image was so vibrant and strong, it was as if he was standing directly in front of me. I could see every hair on his head that I loved to run my fingers through, the sexy grin that melted me from the inside-out, and the sparkle in his eyes that made my whole body hum. It was on these occasions that a small ounce of hope would creep in. Surely, somewhere inside him, some of these same feelings for me still remained—or maybe I was wishing for the impossible.

My chest began to heave as my emotions finally got the best of me. A lone silent tear welled up and escaped beneath my closed eyelid, followed by a cascade of tears streaming fast and warm down my cheeks.

Pull it together Krista
, I thought, trying to calm down.

I knew I needed to get a grip on myself. Joan could walk in at any moment, and explaining my torrent of tears was just something I didn't relish doing. Of course, knowing I needed to get a grip and actually doing it were two different things, especially while sitting here listening to the words of this
stink'n
song…"You left me all alone in love, and now I desperately long to feel your touch."

I need to stop torturing myself like this
, I thought again.

The song came to a close and I swiped the last of my tears away. Pushing the chair back, I stood up reaching to turn the volume back down so it was merely background noise. I turned around, intending to hit the bathroom to do damage control before Joan caught a glimpse of my swollen face.

I gasped when I saw the tall imposing figure standing in front of me.

"Holy crow Haniel, you scared the crap out of me!" I said, trying to calm my racing pulse.

He raised his eyebrows at my words, but remained silent.

"Well sheesh, if you don't want me to swear you need to stop sneaking up on me like that!" I said, embarrassed that he had most likely caught me crying. Like most things in life, crying in front of others had always embarrassed me, especially in the presence of someone like Haniel. Besides, girls that used their tears as a tool had always annoyed me, and I shuddered at the idea of being lumped together with them.

"You are sad," Haniel said as more of a statement than a question.

I sighed trying to think of how I would explain to someone outside the human realm that the music had initiated my tears.

"The music just made me think about
him
," I said, deciding to give it to him bluntly.

"I see. Well, music is a powerful force," he said, obviously understanding who
him
was.

"Yep, it is," I said, thankful that he didn't push the matter further. "Why are you here? And how did you get in here without Joan seeing you?" I asked, puzzled that he had sought me out at work.

He raised an eyebrow at me, which looked silly on him, but was something he and I had been working on to help him appear more
humanistic,
as Sam and I liked to put it. We had made it our pet project to give him lessons on hand gestures and facial expressions, which he was starting to use appropriately. Joking, on the other hand, still fell flat with him, and Sam and I finally gave that one up as a lost cause.

I knew Haniel only indulged in my efforts to modify him as a means to keep my mind occupied and keep me moving forward each day. He wasn't the only one though that worked to keep me busy. My friends were equally guilty with the activities they had implemented, like Sam's sudden fascination with rollerblading or Lynn's new fetish with the mom-and-pop music store we had discovered downtown. Every other day or so, Lynn would drag me there to listen to countless new and different artists, which ironically, was how I had stumbled onto the country song I had just cried my eyes out to. Shawn had even gotten into the action by deciding that it was almost sinful to live in California and not fly a kite at least once every couple of days. He now had a growing collection of brightly colored extravagant kites that he and I would fly on the beach when the wind was blowing at its most optimal condition.

Even though their ploys were obvious, I was still grateful that they all cared so much that they would come up with ways to occupy me. I valued the alone time I got with each of them. Group outings were nonexistent now, and I knew it was because they didn't want me to feel like the odd man out. I appreciated their consideration though. Moving on was tough, and seeing my friends with their
Links
was painful, not because I was envious, but from the indescribable sorrow of losing Mark.

I was a rarity, being the only Guide in over five hundred years that had survived the severed bond that my Protector and I had shared.

"Ok, so, what are you doing here?" I asked, getting his silent message that as one of the most powerful Angels ever, he could go anywhere without being seen.

"I feel we need to discuss the plans you have been making," he answered simply, not needing to clarify.

I felt my knees give out from under me at his words as I sank into the chair. "I'm going after him Haniel. I have to." I whispered, not wanting Joan to hear me.

"Why?" He asked.

"Because I'm empty without him!"
I said louder than I intended. "I have no purpose on earth with him gone," I added in a quieter voice.

"Krista you're wrong. You don't yet understand the extent of your purpose. Your place on earth surpasses any soul that has ever crossed my path," Haniel replied.

"Can't you understand how it feels Haniel, loving someone that no longer loves you back? I have to know why." I said dejectedly, knowing an Archangel couldn't possibly understand what I was talking about.

Much to my surprise, Haniel simply nodded at my words.

"Does that mean we can go?" I asked, not daring to believe.

"Yes Krista, we can go, but it will be on my terms, with stipulations of course," Haniel stated.