Forgotten Self (Forgotten Self #1) (11 page)

Jonathan's face is drawn. “You understand, then, that you need to make a choice. We've run out of time, again.” Here I remember the dining room scene Jonathan revealed to me.

I bite my tongue in frustration. “I don't know what to do!” Um. Stall. I n
eed to stall. “Uh, one of you needs to restore my memory or...I'm not making any decisions. I will sit right here and wait. Until the end of time, if I have to.”

“
So stubborn,” Jonathan groans.

“
Well, it's nothing new,” Lucas comments wryly.

I sit right d
own on the cold concrete and, after a moment, they both walk off a ways to talk. Honestly, I just need a minute to myself. And as I wait for them, my thoughts turn to my other life. My human life. I haven't talked to Danielle in hours. She's probably wonde
ring where the hell I am. My cell phone is in my pocket and I slide it out. Four missed calls and two text messages. Three of the missed calls and both texts are from Danielle. The other missed call is from my aunt, probably wondering where I am. She usual
ly calls later in the evening to check in, make sure that I'm okay and home safe.

Not tonight, dear auntie.

I text Danielle back, letting her know that I've just been away from my phone. She won't understand how that's possible, I know. Constant communic
ation is her religion. One weekend, back in sophomore year, I dropped my phone and wasn't reachable for a day. Danielle drove to my house in the middle of the night and barged in, scaring the hell out of my parents on one of their rare stays at home. I rem
ember how she made no apology. “Abby's got to have someone look out for her,” she'd said to them. My subtle best friend. I grin for a second before hearing the boys' footsteps on their way back to me.

They both look solemn.

“
What is it?” I ask, just as se
rious.

Lucas and Jonathan look at each other before Jonathan says, “We've decided that restoring your memory is a risk we will take, if we have to. A decision needs to be made by you, and if this is this only way...”

“
Then we have to do it,” Lucas finishes
firmly. “But you need to understand the potential consequences here, Abigail. We could permanently damage your human body or, even worse, your mind. But if you die...” The two look at each other again.

“
What?!” I raise my voice.

Jonathan tightens his lips
in an agonized way. “Abby, if you die as a human, you will become a lost soul.”

“
What?” I whisper.

“
It's how it works...there's no one to greet you on the other side. Only human souls are reaped.”

Ugh, the rules of this world are bizarre.

“
I need time to
think, guys,” I inform them. “Take me back to my house.”

So they do.

10

First hour starts much like any other day. Mr. Lehman stands in front of the class and lectures in his usual, boring way. And then, as the class begins
to silently read the assigned textbook chapter, he looks at me.
Looks
at me. The uneasy feeling from yesterday flares up in my belly. He's amused. I meet his stare with a look of “what?”, hoping my insolent attitude will deflect him. Nope. Instead, a litt
le smile turns his lips.

WHAM. The realization is a slap in the face. He knows something. I don't know for sure if it's the angel-demon stuff, but he
knows
. The man's not just being creepy – which would be preferable. I don't know what to think about it, s
o I break our gaze and pretend to read the meaningless words in front of me.

One thing's for sure, I won't be aiding for him today. Or ever again until I talk to Lucas or Jonathan.

After class, Madison invites me to go shopping with her after school. I i
nstantly agree before  remembering that I shouldn't. It's not like an epic war between angels is about to commence. I rescind and we reschedule for some indefinite date.

As I walk out of the classroom, Mr. Lehman stops me. “Abigail, instead of meeting me
in class today, would you please make your way to the auditorium? I have a special project in progress for the Homecoming dance.”

Ah, the dance. I'd completely forgotten about that. Absently, I wonder if I'm going to be asked.

“
Yeah, see you there,” I agr
ee suddenly. Intense curiosity has overtaken me, and the words just tumble out. I'm sure it's fine, I mentally convince myself. I mean, I've known this guy for years. What could really go wrong? If he does know something...I shake my head and, smiling, wal
k away. Let this just be a normal day, I say a little prayer to myself.

Second hour goes by slowly – math is my worst subject. Of course I'm repeating Calculus. Who makes this stuff up? I find it utterly useless, but whatever. School is school. When the ag
ony finally ends, I make my way to the auditorium. Jonathan and Lucas aren't here today, and I definitely feel the weight of their absence. Despite all the awfulness that seems to come with who I really am, the remembrance of my oldest friends has given me
abstract comfort. Though, I'm pretty sure 'just friends' isn't really the right term here. I sigh.

The auditorium is empty and a single light on the stage is illuminated, making it quite dim in the room. “Mr. Lehman?” I call out. My voice seems to echo a
round, but there's no answer. I try again. “Um, Jonah? You here?”

This time there's a response. “Over here, Abigail. Behind the side curtains.”

I jaunt down the main aisle, my footsteps padded on the old carpet. I don't hesitate as I ascend the stairs to t
he stage, and quickly find my way behind the black curtains that hide the areas of the stage reserved for props and equipment. Mr. Lehman is standing with his back to me, looking down at something in his hands.

“
Hey, what's going on?” My voice seems muted
back here compared with the rest of the auditorium. My words seem too casual.

“
Abigail,” he responds slowly, deliberately. He doesn't turn. “You seem...different.”

The unease is back. My hope for normality vanishes and a sort of an alarm sounds in my head.
But something keeps me there.

“
How's that, Jonah?” Jonah...suddenly the name rings a bell. Something from a long time ago. These partial, fuzzy memories float through my head at random intervals now that I've been reminded of who, what I am.

He pivots ar
ound, a creepy expression on his face. A more complete memory invades my mind, one of me and Jonah standing across from each other much like this, only in another time and place.
Arguing. Something in my expression must give my jolt of recognition away bec
ause his grin becomes wider.

“
Yes, much different. I suppose the memories are making an appearance. That pesky boyfriend of yours must have triggered that.”

Of course
this can't be a normal day.

“
Boyfriend?” I repeat stupidly, advancing the dialogue that
should've caused me to flee.

“
Yes. Though, I've never been really sure which it was. Lucas or Jonathan? Both of them would die to have you, of course. Did you ever bite the bullet and make a decision?” He raises an eyebrow in interest.

Demon, I realize.
This is a demon standing in front of me. I push my shaking hands into my jeans pockets. Don't run, don't run...

“
I have no idea.” Inside of me, a switch flips on. One of confidence. “Now, Jonah – it is Jonah, isn't it?”  I am channeling that girl from my e
ncounter with Gaash so long ago. A snap of my fingers...

Jonah nods shortly. “It's one of a few, but Jonah will do for now.”

“
Well, Jonah, I think we should get right down to business, don't you?” My boldness unnerves me. As a human, I have no power. Lucas
said so himself. I should probably be trying to be careful. “Why don't you tell me who you are, since my memory escapes me. Then we can go from there,” Or not. I know he is a demon, and something within me is filled with contempt. He is beneath me.

He ha
ppily smiles again. “Oh, how I've missed the angel Abigail. Dealing with you as a human has been tiring, to say the least.”

“
Hurry it up before I spit on your shoes.” Ouch...My 'zingers' aren't exactly clever.

“
Oh, yes,” Jonah laughs in content, “I've miss
ed your fire. But, as you say, let's get down to business. First of all, I'm here as a friend.”

I'm skeptical. “Is that so?”

“
Why, of course. I cannot lie, you should know that if you've been told anything.”

“
So what's your angle, Jonah?”

“
That brings me t
o my second of all. You and I have a mutual end goal. We both would rather not see R and R taking power, am I right?”

I click my tongue as that old light bulb goes off. “Well, well. You've just connected the dots for me.” I have no idea how, but the knowl
edge enters me with a swoop. “You are Jonah, of course. But you and I know each other much better as Abigail and...
Aram
.” I tilt my head in interest “And while I do agree that you and I have – or had – a common interest, one tiny thing gives me the smalles
t, most miniscule pause.”

Aram is eating this up, more than enjoying our banter. “And what's that?”

“
I guess it's that I just have no gosh darn idea why you want to help us. I mean, we are eternal enemies after all.” I nod to myself.

He shrugs casually. “
It's true. But in my vast experience, I've found that sometimes two sides have to work together. Unfortunate, but true. Especially in this situation.”

I fold my arms – more to hide my shaking hands than anything – and narrow my eyes. “You still haven't ans
wered my question.”

Aram laughs a deep, booming laugh that chills my insides. This man, my teacher, my mentor even, has always been a demon. Biding his time, getting close. Why wait so long to make a move?

“
Sweet Abigail, hasn't anyone ever told you not to
look a gift horse in the mouth? All I did was confirm crucial information at a very crucial moment in time. I don't care to upset the balance of things anymore than you do. Nothing more.” His tone is very light. He moves closer to me, until he's standing
only a couple feet away. “Besides, we've talked about this before, Abs.”

Honestly, I don't know half of what's going on. There's subtext here that I can't read, owing to the fact that I don't know what my relationship with him was like. Enemies, sure. But
had we met over all these years? Or were we just now talking after the note he'd sent me so long ago in Jerusalem?

After I don't respond, Aram is more than happy to continue the conversation. “Great, I'm glad we have that cleared up.” He claps his hands on
ce, very loudly. “Now, as to the other matter I've called you here to discuss. I have a message to give you.”

“
What's that,” I wryly ask. Cold sweat has broken across my brow. I hope he can't see it.

His eyes gleam unnaturally, like a predator. If I look c
losely, I can see the hint of shadow around his outline. And it has nothing to do with the poor lighting.

“
It's more of a tip, really. Raguel and Remiel have left heaven, if you weren't aware.”

“
I was.”

“
They've been hopping around
elsewhere
for a while, b
ut somewhat recently they've returned.”

“
To heaven?”

“
No, my dear.” The creepy grin is back. Well, great. This won't be anything good.

“
Don't tell me.” The words roll dryly out, unheeded. “They're here.”

He claps his hands a few times in glee. “Yes! One p
oint for Abigail.”

I'd been pretending that Aram would correct my guess. Now I just feel sick. “What are they doing here?”

“
Helping us. Well, us as in demons. And them as in not me. Remember, I enjoy the balance being even-keeled.” The corner of his mouth
twists upward. “The good news about them being here is that their power is massively weakened. Perhaps even that soft-hearted Jonathan could take them out. The bad news is that as they scar souls in a rather timelier manner than demons – who must tempt the
ir victims – we now have less time before the real battle begins. I would prefer that battle not commence at all.”

“
Get to the point.” My voice wavers the tiniest bit, but Aram doesn't miss it. The gleam in his eyes practically turns into a twinkle.