Falling (The Falling Angels Saga) (23 page)

I looked into his eyes. They were my eyes. His nose was very much like my nose, with nostrils that flared a wee bit more than they should. Yet on him it looked good. I opened the door wider to get a better look at him. “Dad?”

“Yes. It’s me. I’m back.”

*

I awoke in my bed, my eyes slamming open like a window shade with a broken spring. I bolted upright, Amanda leaping from the covers near my chest to the floor. I glanced around. Guy was in the chair across the room. He was gaping at me.

“Guy, please tell me it was
last night
I asked you not to guard my dreams. It was
last night
I told you I have to do this.” I was staring back at him my eyes wild.

“Yeah,” he replied, his tone cautious. “You said those things to me last night, and I told you I’d be nearby. Did you… see him?”

I jumped out of bed, ran across the floor and dove into his lap. “Oh, Guy,” I said, pulling him close. I buried my head in his shoulder, taking in his sweet fragrance. “Yes. I saw him. I confronted him, and he showed me things,” I said, my words muffled in his armpit.

“What kind of things?” he asked, trying to get my face where he could hear me.

I obliged, pulling back so that I could meet his eyes with mine. “He showed me what he’d do to the people I loved if I didn’t give in to him. And then…” I paused a moment. “And then he showed me something I’d secretly wanted since I was a little girl. The one thing I’ve wanted all my life but assumed I could never have. He showed me that I could get to know my father,” I said. My voice was nearly cracking.

“Your father?” He seemed surprised. “You’ve never mentioned your father to me.”

“I know. But I’ve thought about him. I’ve thought about him a lot. Not so much lately, but over the years.” My words trailed off.

Guy pulled me in closer. “Sweetheart, he knows your weaknesses. He knows just which buttons to push to make you have doubt, to make you feel insecure. He’s been at his malicious games for thousands of years.”

“I know,” I said. It felt good being cradled in Guy’s masculine arms. I felt safe there, that no one, not even Satan, could harm me as long as I was in his arms. I also knew I couldn’t stay in his arms forever. I had to get on with my life. I had to get on with my plan.

Satan had given me an earful, more than I wanted to know. He was very explicit on why he wanted me, and even more explicit in showing me what would happen to those I loved if I didn’t comply.

I told Guy everything that had happened since I’d fallen asleep, including all of the visions Satan had shown me. Telling him of my night with Satan unburdened me, and by the time I’d talked myself out I felt much better. I actually felt stronger and more sure of myself.

“I think he’s frightened,” I said. “Well, maybe not frightened, but very concerned. The last time he was here, he tried to bully his way into getting what he wanted. But now that I’m part of his insidious plan, he’s not sure how hard he should push me, especially since he’s transferred some of his power to me.” I told Guy of Satan’s reaction to the blasts of cold air.

“He wonders if he’s met his match,” Guy said with a wry smile. “Knowing you, I think he has.”

“Let’s not get cocky about this, Guy. He’s still Satan. He’s still powerful.”

“Of course,” he replied without letting go of his smile. The arrogance that had once exasperated me, but that I’d come to love, was again shining through.

Soon after, I started getting ready for school. I called Maudrina and filled her in on my night with Satan. I needed to catch her up on my eventful night before we were around our classmates.

By the time I emerged from the bathroom, clean and fresh-faced and smelling of lavender, Guy had already departed. The lavender was just for him, but I knew he’d be out front in his Mustang waiting for me. I also knew I’d get close enough for him to smell it on me.
Oh, yeah!

When I got outside, just as I’d suspected, Guy’s car was at the curb. The temperature had risen drastically during the night. It was going to be a hot one. Welcome to southwestern Indian summer.

I started down the walk feeling pretty good about myself. While seeing my father for the first time since I was five years old had definitely taken an emotional toll, I knew that Satan had only chosen the visions in an attempt to sway my decision. He was pulling out all stops, attempting to sow the weeds of doubt.

As I neared the car, Guy rolled down the passenger window and smiled his smile. “Hurry up, slow poke.”

It was always the simple things—a smile, a teasing remark, a “righteeo” that reminded me of how much I loved him, how much I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Guy had given up heaven without knowing if I still wanted to be with him. With all that had been going on when he’d told me, I hadn’t had time to seriously consider his sacrifice. Now that I was staring into his smiling face, I realized I loved him even more for it.

The throaty groan of a nearby motorcycle snagged both our attention. Across the street, Orthon sat atop his rumbling bike. Despite the heat of the day, his hoodie was cinched up, framing his face. His dark glasses shielded his eyes and hideous features from the world. Even though shades were covering his eyes, it was obvious they were on me. He revved the bike again, the growl of an angry giant. My stride stiffened, slowed. I was certain Orthon was here because of my confrontation with Satan. Guy was already out of the car.

“How dare you show your face, or whatever you call that hideousness, around here?” Guy raged. He slammed shut the car door and started across the street toward Orthon. “Haven’t you upset her enough already?”

“I can’t believe that an angel would be foolish enough to allow Satan to once again enter Megan’s dreams. But then again, it isn’t just any angel is it? It’s
you!
” Orthon snarled, his voice laced with disdain. He climbed off the bike, his fists balled at his sides, ready for a fight.

“Stop it!” I called and started after Guy.

The two of them met in the middle of the street, facing off like a couple of cage fighters waiting for the bell to ring.

“You may fool everyone else with your pretense at friendship, demon, but you do not fool me,” Guy thundered, getting in Orthon’s face.

“Stop, Guy, stop! I told you before, I trust him.” I ran out into the street and tried sandwiching myself between them.

“That’s because you’re sweet and trusting,” Guy said, softening his gaze as his eyes fell on me. “But Megan, he’s here because he’s working in league with Satan, who wants to know how the dreams have affected you. He’s a spy.”

“No, Guy,” I replied, my words turning tender. “He’s here because he’s looking out for me. Just as you’re looking out for me, Orthon is looking out for me, too.”

“That’s ridiculous!” snapped Guy.

“Listen to the girl,” coaxed Orthon.

“Why?” Guy asked, turning hard eyes on me. “Why in God’s name would a demon want to look out for you?”

“Because,” I said softly, willing myself to complete the sentence, knowing full well the truth would not set me free. “Because he loves me.”

The words slinked from my lips, yet Guy took a step back as if he’d been slapped in the face. He gazed at Orthon and then at me. “What?” The word was an incredulous whisper. He tried laughing it off, but he couldn’t. He was reeling from the blow.

“It is true. I was sent by Satan to do his bidding. But being here with Megan has changed me. It has changed both of us. We love one another.” Through the shades I could tell Orthon was gazing at me tenderly.

“
That
is
not
true!” I said, my voice filling with outrage. “How can you say such a thing?”

“You know how I can say such a thing. Megan, the time for pretense is over. There is much at stake,” Orthon replied. He removed his glasses so that I could see his eyes.

“What?” I heard Guy say again, his voice even smaller.

I faced him. He had taken another step back and was now staring at me as if I was a riddle he had tried and failed to solve. “Guy, it’s not true,” I rasped. “You know it’s not true. I love
you
.”

“Then why do you defend him so?” Guy’s voice had turned hard, his gaze accusatory. Hurt and confusion had sprung up within him like a fast growing weed. The pain on his face was so heart breaking, I could barely look him in the eye.

“Because… because he’s my… friend,” I replied, my voice faltering.

“Ah. A friend.” And with those words, I could feel the door to his heart closing on me.

“Orthon, don’t do this,” I said, turning to him, my eyes practically pleading. “I told you before I love Guy and Guy alone.”

“I do not believe you. And neither does he,” was Orthon’s steely reply.

I once again looked at Guy, his face a ball of confusion, and I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that things between us would never be the same.

*

Guy drove me to school in silence. I tried explaining my relationship with Orthon, but he wouldn’t respond. He sat rigid behind the wheel, nodding occasionally, but never looking at me. He got me to school in record time.

“I love you, Guy,” I said as I climbed from the car. Still no response. Without so much as a glance in my direction, he politely pulled the car door shut and sped out of the student parking lot as fast as he could without making a scene. No kiss. No smile. No “see ya later.” Nothing. Gone.

A lie of omission.

But it wasn’t a lie of omission. I had planned on telling him the previous Saturday when I returned from Dagenhart Castle. Yet with all that had happened since, I hadn’t found the time.

Or is it that you aren’t sure about your feelings for Orthon?

A voice in my mind stabbed pin holes in my rationalization, attempting to plant seeds of doubt. But I
was
sure. I loved Guy and only Guy. I’d never been more certain of anything in my life. Then why the voice? Was it Satan, once again worming his way into my consciousness? Or was it… me?

I watched the car exit the parking lot, bouncing out into the street and speeding away. An ache sprang into my heart. It felt as if a hand had clenched the left side of my heart and was applying gentle pressure.

Breathe, girl, breathe.

I told myself it’s not that bad. He’s upset. But once he’s had time to cool down and think about it, he’ll realize I love him as much as he loves me. This is just one of those things that lovers go through. A lover’s quarrel. Growing pains.

I had to find a way to settle my emotions. I had my school day ahead of me: classes, a meet the candidates rally, and I still needed to talk to my statistics teacher, Mr. Percival, about my failing grade.
First things first,
I told myself.

With the growing pressure around my heart, I forced a smile to my lips (“A smile is the curve that sets everything straight”) and entered the building.

As I moved down the corridor, I noticed a crowd hanging in the locker area—too large a crowd for this early in the morning. Something wasn’t right. The hum of gossip vibrated in the air like swarming bees. The assembled students reminded me of vultures gathering on the Serengeti. As I got nearer, I could see my locker hanging open.
MY
locker was hanging open, and two of the school’s security guards were standing by.

The pressure on my heart increased.

The crowd gawked at me as I approached, eager to turn a lazy Tuesday morning into a Saturday night thrill, a reason to tell any classmate who’d decided to ditch that “you shoulda been there.”

A girl in the crowd—it sounded like Heather McNamara—said: “There she is.” All eyes moved to me, instantly propelling Megan Barnett to the top spot on the Weekly Gossip List.

I continued toward my locker, hanging onto my smile even though I knew my lousy morning was about to get even worse. “Someone broke into my locker!” I said as I arrived.

“Megan Barnett?” one of the security guards asked, blowing right past my words of concern. He had on a black long-sleeve tee shirt with the word “security” across the front in white block lettering. A credential hung ominously from a lanyard around his neck. A clutch of wrinkled loose pages were in his hand.

“Uh-huh,” I replied, dry mouthed. I tried hanging onto the smile. I wanted to hold onto the smile because I knew that that smile was the only thing keeping me from losing my dignity.

“You need to come with us to Principal Lockhart’s office,” he said.

My smile evaporated. Like an ice cube placed on the hot desert floor, it never had a chance.

“What happened? Do you know who broke into my locker?” It was a pretense at outrage, my attempt at clinging to the miniscule shred of dignity I had left.

“That would be me,” the other security guard replied, holding up the large pair of bolt cutters he’d used to clip my lock. He was similarly attired, with a similar all-business demeanor. “Let’s go,” he said in a low, commanding tone. “No need to make a scene.”

As much as I wanted to stand my ground and continue to pretend being offended, I realized I’d become an actor in the GU Tuesday morning theater, and the longer I stood there, the longer the embarrassing show would go on.
Time to bring the curtain down
, I thought. I nodded, and without another word, followed the men away.

“Serves her right,” I heard a girl say. It sounded like Ashley Scott.

As I moved along, I observed that, overnight, the corridor walls had been plastered with school election posters. Some were expertly done, featuring cartoons with clever captions—but you’d expect that from the Poplarati. Then, I spotted an amateurish poster on orange construction paper, featuring crudely drawn sheep being led over a cliff by a crudely drawn girl that one had to assume was Ashley Scott. The poster caption read:
Don’t follow her down. Vote for Megan Barnett.
And to make sure we all knew who was behind the clever poster, it was signed—the only signed poster in the entire corridor—Tran Phung.

Leave it to my “campaign manager” to turn crude into an indictment against the establishment. Brilliant—although I doubted if most of the Poplarati would even get the subtle implications. However, I got it, and despite my lousy night, leading to my disastrous morning that was concluding with a visit to Principal Lockhart’s office, I smiled, not the fake smile I’d worn earlier, but a genuine one that went from ear to ear. The pressure on my heart was gone.