Falter (24 page)

“So because you were in so much pain, it transferred to that man and caused him to react to it?” My heart ached for him—and the poor woman who died.

“Yeah, pretty much. I ran when the police and rescue showed up. It was dark and cold by then. Malach found me at an abandoned playground miles away from the bus-stop, huddled in a ball on the ground.” A smile crept across his mouth. “He was giving off a glow so bright that I had to squint to look at him. When I asked what he was, he told me he was an Archangel.” Gavyn paused, scrutinizing my expression—probably waiting for me to question his confession.

I nodded my head, urging him to continue. There was no way I could deny the claim that Malach was an angel.
 

“He told me about a race of people on earth that were born with gifts. Malach called them
Celatum
—The Hidden. These people come into their gifts at different ages, usually around a tragic time in their lives. Each individual can do different things…has different powers. So it’s almost impossible to know who is a Celata until right before they are aware themselves.”

Sensing the change in my demeanor when I glanced at the floor, he allowed me to soak it in and waited for the questions he knew I was forming.
 

“So that’s why you weren’t sure if I was one of these Celatum or not?” Gavyn gave a quick nod and let me piece more of the puzzle together. “But you
did
know that something terrible was going to happen…and you didn’t warn me?” Anger tore through me like a hot blade. He could have told me something bad was coming, even if he didn’t know exactly what, but he didn’t.

“I didn’t know this would happen, Nevaeh. I swear. I was hopin’ that you livin’ on the streets was tragedy enough.” Regret flared in his eyes. He really had hoped the tragedy of my upbringing had been a sufficient torture for my initiation.

“But what about my gift? Wouldn’t it have shown by now if that was the case?”

“I thought maybe you just didn’t recognize it, yet.”
 

I cradled my face in the refuge of my hands and continued processing while he went on.
 

“Just like we all come into the gifts at different times, the intensity is different, too. These powers are personalized to our souls. Some come into them all at once, others take years to develop. Malach says we vary so much to signify God’s love for the things inside us that make us unique—the pieces of our souls that make us special to him.”

“But I’ve never had a relationship with God. Why would I be given such a gift? Hell, up until now, I wasn’t convinced there was a God…and I’m still not sure I’m on His side.” I let the last few words trail in a whisper, almost ashamed of my lacking faith.

“Just because you don’t believe in Him, doesn’t mean He turns His back on you. He is there whether you accept Him or not, waiting for your soul’s return to its maker.”

“And if I don’t want to accept Him, or this gift?” I asked smugly, showing the doubt I harbored for Gavyn’s Lord.

“Why wouldn’t you, Nevaeh? You’ve seen a glimpse of the players in this game. Why would you choose not to be one of us?”

“Is it really a choice? I don’t remember anyone asking me if I wanted to give up George for some damn power. I didn’t even know all this existed until he got ripped from my life,” I yelled, twisting the edges of the blanket into a bunch. Seeing the surprise in Gavyn’s expression made me realize how close I was to losing it. This wasn’t his fault. I couldn’t blame him.
 

I lowered my voice, composing myself. “Just tell me the rest of what you know. I don’t want to talk about the personal side of it all, yet. I just need the information…
please
.” I drew in a deep, slow breath. Gavyn reached out to offer a consoling touch, but I leaned away, retreating into the crook of the armrest behind me. Could I still trust him?

He sighed and lowered his hand, looking a little offended, but he continued. “All humans are born with purpose—even if it’s only to produce more humans and teach them God’s way.
We
were fashioned to help in the Heavenly War. Our innocent souls are kissed to life. The plans of our lives are laid out on a map, so to speak. God knows the destination of every path we might take, but it’s our choice which path we walk. If we take the path not meant for us, we can direct our lives back towards the original plan. However, we have to suffer the consequences that formed from the decisions we previously made. The plan is always predestined, but never certain. With each new conflict and new choice, the rest of our life’s path can shift.”

“I don’t understand. What does this have to do with the gifts and the Celatum?” I shook my head, attempting to rattle things into place.

“Like every other choice we come across, to accept the gift and how we use it is in our hands. You can deny the gift and move on with your life, but you will never forget what happened. You won’t stop seeing this world of ours. You just kinda float through life dormant, but aware.” He looked to the ceiling suggestively, then back at me, grinning. “Or you can choose sides and be part of a battle that is bigger than anything most will ever fathom.”

“Choose sides?”
 

Gavyn nodded. “He wants us to
choose
him, so he gives us the option instead of forcin’ us. The gift stays with us in the hope that if we join the Dark Celatum, it might remind us of his love every day we are away from him.” He exhaled a heavy breath then slouched back into the cushions, resting his head on the back of the futon. “I guess we are so important that He will let His own weapons be used against Him if it means one day they might return to Him.”

We hushed for a minute, contemplating the grand gesture of God’s sacrifice. Then, I realized that we somehow wandered away from Gavyn’s story. “So…after Malach explained about the free will thing and the Celatum, what happened?”

Gavyn’s expression relaxed. The fact that I was asking questions must have assured him that I wasn’t going to run—yet.

“Malach only came to me because the pain eating away at me was harming others. You see, Archangels don’t usually deal with us on a personal level. Their duties are on a much higher scale than dealing with humans individually, but I was becoming too dangerous to leave unchecked.
 

“He explained that my gift was very useful when controlled but could be disastrous in the wrong hands. To the heavenly beings, it was important enough that they broke their cover and told me about my gift before I came into it completely—and before one of the Dark recruiters got to me. I learned that I had to let go of the pain and channel it into what it was meant for, before I unintentionally killed anyone else.” His gaze flickered with a hint of the guilt buried deep in his heart.

“So do you always control other people’s emotions?” I asked, refocusing the conversation away from his troubled thoughts.

He chuckled softly. “No. And it’s not really controlling. I call it swaying. A little more subtle than a push, but more forceful than an urge.” A playfulness lightened his tone.

“How often have you used it on me?” Images of him kissing me in the hallway danced before me. Did I really like it as much as I did, or was that him
swaying
me?

“Not often. I’ve only used it on you to relieve some of the anxiety during what’s happened in the past few days. It was a very low intensity. I didn’t want to numb you. Just wanted to help you cope a little better.” He looked down at his hands. “Does it help?” he asked timidly.

“I don’t know. How can I tell when it’s you?”

“The times you were angry or anxious then felt calm without explanation—that was me.” His voice was soft and thoughtful. I understood what he meant to do, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about getting my emotions hijacked.

“And the pull I felt with Malach? Was that you?”

Gavyn huffed and rolled his eyes. “No, that was all Malach. They all do that. I felt it too in the beginning.” He finally looked up from his hands and scanned the room as he spoke. “It’s not them that you are attracted to. It’s the Grace. The traits of Heaven they carry with them. The smells, the lust, the yearning...it’s all because, deep down, our souls hunger, on a very primitive level, for anything that offers us even a glimpse of God. Our system can’t handle their pureness and kinda goes haywire. It gets easier though.”

“I thought lust was bad.”

He shrugged. “On a human basis, it’s the initial foundation that leads to genuine attraction. Before two people get to know each other, there’s something that sparks between them, something that reaches out and smacks us in the face. It doesn’t come from a little list of requirements you think that person might meet; it stems from the carnal need to have that person’s body close to yours—the smell of them, the heat, even the thought of them touching you can drive you wild before a word is ever spoken.” He licked his lip, and his eyes drifted to my mouth for a moment. “In a demented, evolved way, lust fuels our motivation to love.”
 

I was speechless. Our eyes met, and the intensity in his gaze wouldn’t allow me to ignore the suggestiveness behind his words. A shiver quaked my body. The notion of “love” floated steadily between us with implication.
 

“Yoo-hoo?”
 

We both jumped at the intruding voice coming from the bottom of the stairwell.
 

“Anyone up there?” Layla called in a sickly sweet tone as her footsteps approached Gavyn’s apartment door.

He lifted his wrist up, glancing at his watch. “Shit, it’s breakfast time already.” Shooting a quick look to the door, he whispered, “There’s more I have to tell you. We’ll talk tonight. You stay and get some sleep. I’ll take care of the rest.”

I grabbed his arm as he stood. “There is no way I can sleep right now. I have to work.”

Gavyn nodded his head, approving my plea to keep busy.
 

Seconds later, Layla strolled into the living room like she belonged here. “Hey, Gav—oh, I didn’t know you had company.” She stopped abruptly just inside the door, her icy gaze locking on me. She threw her hand up to cover her mouth, feigning surprise. The hand dropped from her smirking, apple-red lips and rested on a cocked hip as she eyed me with disapproval. She absolutely knew I was up here.

“Relax, Layla. We were talking about George,” Gavyn said, hurrying down the hall toward his room and then back out with a fresh shirt in his hand. I stared at Layla suspiciously while she ogled Gavyn.

“Hah, whatever, Gavyn. Not my business.” She stretched her arm out in front of her, examining the perfectly manicured nails on her fingertips. “Just didn’t want to interrupt anything,” she added, cutting a sideways glance in my direction.
 

If eyeballs were laser beams, I’d have a hole in my head from the glare she blasted my way. Her fake kindness wasn’t fooling anybody.

“Right,” he responded, clearly not convinced by her innocent act either. “So then, what did you need?”

“I got here a little early. Figured I’d see if you needed any help makin’ breakfast.” Layla’s meddlesome eyes roamed over the room and settled on the vacant pile of blankets. “Uh, what happened to George?”

I kept silent, mostly because I had no clue how to answer her. I couldn’t really come out with the reality of things and say,
Well Layla, to tell you the truth a demon ate his soul, and his body now resides at P.O. Box Heaven
. I pursed my lips at the sarcasm she brought out in me; even in thought I was snarky with her.

“We took him to the hospital late last night. He’s not doing so well.” Gavyn said, subtle worry lines forming on his brow.

She gasped, clutching her hands over her heart. “Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve gone for moral support.” Her shoddy attempt at concern made me want to gag.

“I’m going later to check on him. I’ll let him know you asked about him,” I said with the most appreciative smile I could fake. I could play her game too.
 

Gavyn interrupted our little banter of dishonesty. “Layla, why don’t you go down and unlock the back door. I’m sure Mick will be here soon. You guys can get some prep ready.” He tossed her the keys and took his shirt off to change it.

She blatantly stared at him, focusing on every ounce of muscle she could see. He, of course, paid her no attention. I don’t think he even realized she was screwing him with her eyes. I, on the other hand,
did
realize it and cleared my throat to distract her.

She grinned—obviously pleased with herself—and ignored my gesture while gawking at Gavyn until the hem of his shirt finished trailing down his rippled muscles. I don’t know if I was in more disbelief that he could be so completely oblivious to her, or that I was getting so damn territorial over a man I, as of yet, had no claim on.

Without a single look my direction, Layla turned towards the door and jingled the keys in her hand. “See you in a bit,” she sang.

We waited until her clunky steps reached the bottom of the stairwell and the apartment door closed before we both sighed in relief. “Now what?” I asked, needing some sort of actual plan to get through the rest of the day.

“I don’t know. I guess we just stick to the story that George is sick at the hospital and answer any questions with as little explanation as possible.”

“Especially, Layla’s,” I spat under my breath.

He smirked. “Let’s go get something to eat. I still have a business to run.”