Finding Alice (Alice Clark Series) (12 page)

“How long have I been out?”

“Two days. I’m sure you’re starving.” He smiled an infectious smile. Angel tricks, I assumed. I nodded as he poured me a large bowl of chicken soup. I didn’t know if I should trust him, but my stomach thought I should. Just the right amount of salt with freshly-made pasta and a broth that had to be cooked from scratch. It was amazing and not only because I hadn’t eaten in days. He cleaned up the kitchen while I finished slurping down the bowl for the last taste. I reached for the tea and stop midway, grabbing onto my side in agony. “I missed a rib.” He said it so calmly, as if he were saying he missed a bone in the broth. He walked over and grabbed a hold of me, setting my rib back in place. “I set them all the best I could. I assumed you wouldn’t go to the hospital.” He was right.

“Thank you. Does Cole know what happened to me?”

“Not yet.”

“Please keep it that way.” He nodded. I stood slowly, shoving the cigarettes into my pocket. He handed me the crutches and I limped to the front door. I always imagined as a child what it would be like if I met my birth parents; I could say without a shadow of doubt this did not line up with one of them. He reached to open the door.
Please don’t.
I was weak, broken, battered even, but I wasn’t dead and I needed to feel as if I was at least capable of opening my front door. I struggled with it for a few minutes before finally getting it open. Apparently, having my body flung into it repeatedly had messed up its alignment a touch. I set the crutches against the house and limped like a wounded animal to the spot I escaped death by an angel. I felt him walking up behind me.

“My grass is a little burnt,” I tried to joke.

“I really am so sorry for all of this, Alice.”

“You know the crazy thing is that the first person who ever treated me like they wanted me, like they loved me, was told to watch me and protect me. I was an order for him. Everyone else was perfectly okay with throwing me out with the trash. All those foster families and you. Even God doesn’t love me.”

I felt his shame, his pain for the choices he had made. It made me feel a little guilty for speaking to him the way I was, but only a little. The idea of creating a nephilim, who was mostly angel with a human soul just to delay Judgment Day and their final punishment from God, seemed petty to him in my current state of anguish. I didn’t need a mirror to see that I was ten times over in worse condition than my run-in with Cole’s great-grandfather.

“I am confused about one thing though. Did he die or just hurry back to Heaven?” I asked.

“The bounty hunter?” he said, obviously confused.

“You’re kidding right?” I laughed. It hurt immensely. “You are a little behind. The bounty hunter or as I like to say, my ex-boyfriend’s great-grandfather, attacked me a few weeks ago.” That ripped right through my heart.
Ex-boyfriend.

“You said an angel? I thought you meant a fallen angel. A bounty hunter.” I watched him search his mind for the answers. I wasn’t supposed to be capable of surviving a one-on-one with an angel. They had expected to protect me in numbers. It was strange how all their plans were so easy to read from his eyes.

“Before you strain your ancient brain, an actual angel, not one of you guys, tried to kill me. After beating me into submission, he tried to kill me with lightning. He didn’t even have the decency to use his bare hands.”

“You mean, they came down and attacked you?” He seemed stunned.

“No, he did. As in, only one. One came and attacked me on my front lawn. I moved and hit him into his own lightning attack. I watched his wings go up in flames and then he just disappeared.” Silence. Not even the wind made a sound as he ran through my story again and again. For the first time, I saw a gleam of hope in his eyes. If a fallen angel had hope in his eyes for the first time and was looking at you, you might want to high tail it in the other direction.

“Let’s go back inside. You need your rest.”

“I need to get ready for work.” At least I thought I had to work.

“One more day of rest. You can work tomorrow.”

“Only if you promise to get Cole there. I need to talk to him but I need him to not know I’m going to be there.” Not that he wouldn’t feel my heart racing from the parking lot. “Do not tell him about the attack, please.”

He nodded though his eyes were arguing with me. He offered an arm as I limped toward the door. I took it and we slowly made our way back inside.

I had been sitting on my shower floor way past the water running cool. The bruises were starting to turn to yellows and greens from their black, blue and purple start. There was barely any skin-toned flesh on me. My eyes were no longer swollen, which was a relief, but I still looked similar to a raccoon. I stopped counting after 26 stitches. They were nicely done for an at-home job. They were starting to itch but I did my best to leave them be. Everything inside of me was sore. Too many bone breaks to keep up with, a dislocated shoulder and a few ribs that popped out. I knew it was going to take a while to heal. Penemue made me this weird paste to rub into my skin once my wounds healed or where they didn’t exist to help speed up the healing, even the broken bones. Amazing after all that, my heart still ached the most of all my injuries. I felt as if I had been deprived of an addiction. The one person to ever really love me, at least I thought he really did, I pushed away. I broke both our hearts that night.

I finally got up and out to get dressed. I knew exactly what I could wear and how to put it on for the least amount of pain. I was beginning to become an expert at that. I pulled on a beater and a pair of jeans with my black boots. This time I was not layering clothes on to shield my pain from and for others. I walked into the kitchen and found Penemue waiting to drive me. It was weird to see someone so regal yet rugged fight between calmness and nervousness. I rather enjoyed it, actually. I locked up and walked to my car, a car that looked almost as bad as I did.

“What, you’re not going to fly us there?” I joked.

“Glad to see your sarcasm is back. Get in.” What did he mean,
back
? I raised my eyebrow at him before getting into the car.

“So do you have a nickname or something? Penemue just sounds…ancient, and I’m not calling you dad. Max would freak.”

“Your mother used to call me Paul. Max won’t be there, but I know he would.”

“He’s always there.”

“Your friend Camille took over your shifts. He doesn’t even know you’ll be there.” Camille was working at the bar? How did he know so much about me? All I wanted to do was ask about my mother but I knew I was already on information overload. I laid my seat back and closed my eyes for the drive.

I opened my eyes and looked around my field of gold grass. I started to shake in anticipation of whom or what was waiting for me in this dream world. I started to hear the voices from the woods calling my name. There was no way I was going anywhere near them. I felt the need to help them but was incapable from the crippling effect they had on me. I steadied my breath and tried to focus on what they were saying. So many languages and so many accents, it was hard to detect anything but my name. It sounded like hundreds of thousands of voices calling to me…women’s voices and children’s cries.
Oh my God. The sirens and nephilim
.

As I shot out from my seat, I realized too late I was heading straight for a face plant into my dashboard. Penemue or Paul gracefully caught my face inches from impact. I was thankful for the rescue and for him taking such good care of me. I wondered if those voices haunted him too. “What haven?” I asked, forgetting to thank him out loud.

“Must have been quite a dream.”

“It reminded me of a conversation I had in another one.”

The city is filled with most of us. We’ve taken a liking to the city. Seems ironic to be here in Hell. I’m sure it has a part in what drew you to a place like this. It’s also where our wives and children are buried. At least it’s where their souls are trapped
. I heard his soothing voice inside my head.

“Why does all of this have to be so complicated?”

He laughed this addictive laugh, the kind that makes you smile no matter how badly you try to fight it. We pulled up to the bar. I pointed to a place to park my car on the other side of the parking lot from Jasmine. We got out and I did my best to walk without my limp. If I was in fact walking into a fallen angel haven, I preferred to not look like a beaten dog when I did it. At least, I hoped to not do it twice.

Paul opened the door for me and we entered the bar. I heard Camille squeak as she ran at me. I braced for impact but Paul stepped in front of her before she rammed into me. I sighed, relieved, and watched as she stood in horror looking at my bruised body. He reassured her I was fine and escorted her to Jake, requesting she play pool with him and give me time to relax before bombarding me with questions.

My relief was short-lived for literally a brief moment before my anxiety kicked into high gear. My heart began to race. I could feel Cole cruising down the Street, almost here. I hoped he wouldn’t turn around and just leave. I stepped behind the bar and saw Old Gray’s concern, not pointed at me directly; more so it seemed to be aimed at the presence of Paul. I was thankful I left my thick sunglasses on. They were generously hiding the tears that were now forming in my eyes. No one here had any right to judge me. I heard the roar of Cole’s engine as he pulled into the parking lot. My nerves were officially shot weeks ago. At this point, I was a walking disaster.

I took a shot behind the bar, attempting to calm my nerves. I felt the heat as it slid down my throat, burning all the way down until it hit the bottom of my stomach. A polar opposite from the rush of cool waves that spiraled through the bar as Cole entered. I steadied myself against the bar, hiding most of my body. I think it was a poor attempt to protect what was left of Cole’s heart. I had done enough damage to last us a lifetime. Yet here I was requesting his presence as if I had any right to. He sat down next to Old Gray and stared downward at the bar. I mixed him a rum and Coke and placed it in front of him. I felt his eyes on me when I wasn’t looking. I could feel it breaking his heart. Actually, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me when I wasn’t looking.
Can we talk?
I asked, hoping he wasn’t going to just sit there all night, pretending I didn’t exist. He stared at his drink, spinning the ice around with his straw. I knew I deserved the silent treatment. “Camille, can you watch the bar for a second?” I shouted.

“Sure thing, honey.” She trotted over and stepped behind the bar. Jasmine smiled and wagged her empty glass at her. It was creepy to see her smile; she never smiled. I stepped out, walked straight to the back door, and went outside, having no idea if he would follow me or not. After standing there for five minutes, I was officially feeling like an idiot. I limped to my car and pulled out a cigarette. I leaned against the dent, letting the car hold all of my weight.

“Smoking again?” Cole asked. His voice was mouthwatering. Or maybe it was his lips that were, since I was staring at them while the last word escaped. I let a smile out even though I tried to keep it caged. I knew it pained him.

“I’ve been a little stressed lately. Look, I am really sorry about everything.”

“I know you are. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. You look terrible. Bounty hunter again?”

“You mean your great-grandfather? I wish. This was a worst case scenario event. I should have never asked you to leave. I miss you.”

“Alice, I missed you too but maybe this is for the best. Maybe us together will only complicate things, make us more vulnerable. I don’t know…cloud our judgment or something.” It hurt to have him turn me away just like that, as if we meant nothing and it was easy for him. Staring into his eyes, being so close to him and yet so far from my reach, I felt our souls grasping for each other. No, this was not better for us.

“You can’t honestly think that. I almost let that angel kill me. Without you, I just feel empty.”

“Wait, what? An angel attacked you? You mean a Fallen?” he shouted. I could feel his blood boiling under his skin. Now he was the one with rage and I was the one looking back, begging for forgiveness. My legs felt as heavy as my heart. I clutched my car, trying to stand in front of him, my body fighting me every step of the way.