Forgotten Self (Forgotten Self #1) (13 page)

“You are intolerable, you know that?” Lucas uncharacteristically snapped at him.

Jonathan held his hands up, though the expression on his face remained pleased. “Hey, man. Maybe it's just not meant to be this time.”

Lucas drop
ped his head into his hands. “I don't get it. I don't know what I'm doing wrong.”

“It's not just you,” Jonathan said quietly. “I can't either.”

This nagged me. What could cause their power to diminish other than something more powerful...

I realized someth
ing. “You know what? Aram said that Raguel and Remiel were
here
. Like here on earth. Do you think they're doing this?”

Both angels instantly closed their eyes at my words. Lucas sat as still as possible while Jonathan tilted his head to the side. It looked
like they were...listening. But to what?

I didn't want to interrupt them, so I kept my mouth shut. It wasn't long before Jonathan made a little sound in his throat. “Yep,” he commented heavily and opened his eyes.

Lucas was slower to acknowledge whatever
it was that they were acknowledging. After a minute he gave a slow nod and looked over at Jonathan. “How could we not have known that?”

Jonathan just shook his head in disbelief. “This is all going down a lot faster than I thought it would.”

I was being le
ft out of the loop. Again. “What were you guys just doing?”

“
Listening for them,” said Jonathan.

“
Uh, like for the archangels? Do you guys have some sort of angel radio station or something?”

He snorted. “Something like that. Their beings are powerful eno
ugh that their energy gives off a sort of sound, like a hum. Faint, but if you're listening...”

Lucas looked up at me from his chair. “If what Aram said is true, then they are absolutely the reason you're stuck, so to speak. It also means that...” He trail
ed off.

“
Aram said that they were helping the demons, you know, scar souls. That archangels don't have to lure their victims.”

He nodded grimly. “Yeah.”

“
It's sickening.” Jonathan paced the room. “It completely defies who – what we are.” A small shudder ra
n through him, and I barely caught him mutter, “Not that we have anyone to answer to anymore.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, Lucas acted as if he hadn't heard, so an awkward silence fell.

A few minutes went by. The kitchen clock could be heard t
icking two rooms away. I eventually walked over and sat down at the table, the specially stained oak piece my mother had so carefully chosen. “What happens now?”

The two angels looked at each other, a message passing between them. “No,” Jonathan stated rou
ghly and shook his head. More silence.

My tapping foot appeared and, correspondingly, Lucas jumped in. “You know how earlier we were talking about restoring your memory?”

My foot paused mid-tap. “Yes. But I thought you said I could lose my soul,” I respon
ded delicately, like I was treading over mined ground.

Lucas' glow shined brightly for a moment, before he seemed to get a hold of himself. It dimmed and he promised, “I wouldn't let that happen.” He didn't look away, his gaze fixed on me determinedly. His
intensity sent chills down my back.

Jonathan began to pace again. “This is insane,” he growled. Then he turned to look at Lucas, his expression one of anger. “You can't do this. You can't offer that to her and make a promise you know you might not be abl
e to keep.”

Lucas stood up and met Jonathan in the middle of the room. “It's her choice. And we need her – you know what the real Abigail would say. She'd tell you to quit being such a p- ”

I cut him off. “Why does there have to be a 'real' Abigail? I'm j
ust as real as her...in fact, I
am
her. Just without memories and a foul mouth – no, I'm probably just as bad there.”

Ah, no laughs at my attempted humor.

As soon as I stopped talking, the two ignored me and focused on each other.

“
Do you actually want t
o contact Paarai?” Jonathan demanded.

Lucas stepped closer to him, as if to meet some challenge. “I have before. I would again.” He granted me a look filled with brilliant emotion. Enter heart skip.

The expression on Jonathan's face was indescribable. He
followed Lucas' gaze down to me, and the anger fled inside and what appeared was...hurt. And a million other things. Things I couldn't understand, nor did I have time to decipher them, for he slumped down onto the couch behind him.

My heart ached for my fr
iend. I wished I knew what would make this all go back to normal.

I opened my mouth to make some sort of consolation, contribute something to this conversation of meaning. But watching Jonathan so defeated and Lucas so intense shut me right up.

I left.

My room was messy. I flipped my radio on – NPR – and bent down to pick up dirty clothes off the floor. My mind was going a hundred miles an hour. I endeavored to distract myself with boring, real-world news.

“
This is Michael Jones and this is
All Things Co
nsidered
. In national news, there has been an alarming increase in crime rates across the country,” the reporter's rumbling baritone voice informed me.

I threw a pile of clothing into the hamper and bent over to gather more.

“
Numbers released today by the
National Bureau for Crime Statistics show a two hundred percent increase from last month. New York City alone is reporting...”

The voice fizzed into the ringing of my ears.

I froze as soon as I heard the report. I knew, I
knew
this had something to do with
Raguel and Remiel.

A violent feeling of rage flooded through me; my vision glazed and my hands trembled. I felt out of control - like  something else was compelling my actions now. The clothes dropped from my hands. Blindly I picked up the baseball bat l
ying next to my closet, the one I hadn't used since 6
th
grade softball -

and began to smash the radio.

Plastic flew at the first hit. Again and again I swung, overwhelmed with anger toward the archangels and what they were doing, overwhelmed with sorrow
for the people being hurt because of this, and overwhelmed with frustration for my position in this situation. What was I supposed to do?

I didn't even notice the bedroom door open. Lucas grabbed my bat as it made another trip down
to the shattered remnan
ts of my radio. I said nothing, just let him pull the bat away. He leaned the bat against the wall and turned to watch me.

After a few minutes, my breathing quieted, the ringing disappeared, and the anger melted.

Eventually I spoke. It was steadier than I
expected after such an outburst. “You were right, you know.”

“
About what?” His voice was soft.

“
You didn't say it, but I could tell. I could tell that you knew I would want the memories back.” Lucas was quiet. “I have to tell you, though,” I continued, “if
I had any choice, any
real
choice in this matter, I wouldn't be an angel. You must know that, right?”

Heavy silence.

“
I know,” he finally said.

The wall's hold on my gaze broke, and I turned to see him, blinking white, distorted shapes out of my eyes.

He
met my stare, so still.

I felt the strong feelings between us and got a bit weirded out. This snapped me out of my stony trance. I backed up quite a distance and leaned against the wall. Clearing my throat, I said, “Anyway, since I have no choice I've got
to do this – or at least try. Nobody deserves to be hurt or have their soul compromised, and if I can help...well, you know. But, Lucas, if this doesn't work - ”

Before I could finish my sentence, that fuzzy feeling came over me. The one that I'd felt wh
en Jonathan gave me those memories of my past. This wasn't just dizzying, however. It was painful.

“
Abigail?” I heard Lucas say and then -

There is nothing. I am nothing.

Then I
am
. I am Abigail. I am...

What am I?
It is still dark, but after a moment
I see a shimmer of light come my way. It doesn't stop moving until it is only a few feet from me.

Hello, Abigail.

Who are you?
I ask.

I am Death. And you are my angel.

“
Abigail?” Someone shook me. “Abigail, wake up.”

A hand was pressed to the side of my
face, and a sudden rush of heat ran through my body, like  a gulp of hot tea. The shock caused me to sit straight up, eyes wide open.

“
Abigail,” the voice said again, urgently. I saw now that it was Lucas.

I squinted at him, which allowed my still-blurry
vision a clearer view. “Um, what just happened?”

His arms slightly tightened around my body as he answered.“I'm not sure, you just fell -”

I stopped him. “No, I mean, what did you just do to me?”

He tilted his head, questioning, and then realized what I w
as talking about. “Oh, that.” He shrugged. “Just an angel thing.”

I groaned again and rolled my eyes. “You people are so vague.”

Then I realized that hot-angel guy was holding me. In his arms. On my floor. I probably looked horrible. Didn't fainting spells
make you look horrible? My heart began to sprint and I attempted to casually launch myself out of his arms.

Casually and launch don't really go together.

I ended up not really moving due to gravity, Lucas' strong hold, and physics. Lucas just offered me a
concerned look as my body sort of jerked. God, he probably thought I was having a mini-seizure. I dropped the escape attempt.

“
Do you remember what happened before I woke you up?” he asked me.

I thought for a second. Something messed up, I told myself...

The memory snapped back into my head. “I remembered something...” I scrunched my nose, trying to think of a way to explain it. “It was like I was being – well, no, it was like I had just been created or made or something.” I actually gulped here. “And it
was Death. Death was there. He told me I was his angel.”

Lucas looked shocked, even a little blanched. “Wow, that's new.”

“
Apparently I am literally death,” I said sardonically. Whoop-dee-do.

He said nothing and slowly helped me move up onto the bed. When
I got comfortable, he sat next to me. “You've never told me about that before.” Even his tone was enigmatic.

“
So, it
is
weird, then.”

His forehead wrinkled. “Sort of. I mean, not really. Well, I don't know what I mean.”

“
I
think you're just trying to be ni
ce.”

He didn't seem to hear me as he talked to himself.“Everything's so different.”

“
Hey.” I snapped my fingers. “Are the other angels of Death not, you know...”

“
Some,” he said absently, lost in his thoughts again.

I
meant to ask more but out of nowhere
I laughed. A bizarrely light feeling came over me, one I'd felt only a few times before, at sleepovers when I'd stay up way too late. Punchy, that was it. Overtired. I couldn't stop laughing. “I'm Death's kid,” I said through the laughter. Tears ran down m
y face. This was funny, somehow. “Death with a capital 'd',” I managed. I looked at Lucas' serious, concerned face. “What's wrong with you? You look like you've seen...” But another round of hysterical laughter took over before I could finish my ironic jok
e.

He waited patiently until I quieted down. It took a while but when I did, he asked, “Are you okay?” I raised my eyebrows and he lifted his hands in acquiescence. “You're right, you're right. Dumb question.”

“
I just want to be alone for awhile,” I told
him tiredly.

He nodded. “Yeah, I'll head out. See you tomorrow at school.”

I was confused. “School? Aren't we going to go street fight some angels?”

“
Not until we can regroup and figure out where to go from here. You as a human isn't exactly conducive to t
he world you're about to be thrust into.”