Goddesses Don't Get Sick (18 page)

You should have taken my wings, damn you. Why’d you have to take
her
?

Eventually, he heard a new set of cries, joining his own. Lifting his head, he looked at the newborn, staring at it dumbly for a long moment before he moved. Getting up slowly, as if in a dream, and reaching for a towel that was sitting on top of a pile of laundry in the corner, the Angel lifted the crying baby from the bloodied mess on the bed, and carefully began to clean the afterbirth from it…

From her; Angela had had a daughter.

He held the creature in his arms and stared at her in wonder.
I helped make you
, he thought dully, not yet sure if the knowledge brought love, or anger. The child appeared to be a perfect human being, but Tuyen could see beyond that. Although she had no physical wings to speak of, there was an aura of them that was as physical as a real pair. They glowed softly to Tuyen’s eye, beautiful even though he could not bring himself to accept it. When the child had flexed them inside her mother, it had ruptured her body beyond any repair, killing her from the inside.

The one trait of Tuyen to inherit that would be death to the mother, and she had done just that.

Only Angels would see the aura of those wings. Others might feel it, but they wouldn’t see what the child really was. Already, she was showing signs of not being entirely normal.

Although more than a month premature, the baby looked healthy and fully grown. The umbilical cord had fallen off with no aid, and the child stared up at Tuyen with blue eyes that already seemed as ageless as her father, its birthing cries long forgotten as it seemed to scrutinize the Angel, fascinated by his scar.

Realizing that his wings had tracked blood around the room, Tuyen pulled them back into his body, until there were only the scars once more, a stray feather lying in a puddle of blood.

This was how Jason found them.

FORTY-FOUR.

“ANGELA?” JASON CALLED OUT
as he let himself into the house. The silence that answered him sent a shiver of fear down his back. “Babe?” Jason began to hurry down the hall, turning the corner to his bedroom and skidding to a halt at what he found.

Angela’s body lay on the bed, utterly lifeless. The sheets were soaked in blood, the excess spilling out to the floor, and some of it even splattered on a nearby wall.

As a sob tore its way out of Jason’s throat, it took a moment for him to realize he was not alone in the room. A figure, dressed only in dark trousers and with two long scars down his back, stood in the corner, holding something in a bloodstained towel, his hands also stained.

Jason stared at the man in confusion, a thousand questions racing through his head, until he plucked at one in desperation.

“What did you do?” He choked. The man turned and stared at him, eyes tear-stained yet expressionless, an angry, red scar across one side of his face.

Jason staggered further into the room, some part of him blindly hoping that maybe Angela was just unconscious. Seeing that she was truly dead as he approached the bed, he let out a small wail and fell down on his knees, crying hoarsely as he cradled her head in his arms.

Tuyen watched the widower, weeping as he had done not so long ago, and for a brief second felt a kinship with the man before it was replaced with a dull resentment of Jason’s place in Angela’s life.

At least you are allowed to mourn her properly
, the Angel thought bitterly.
At least you can say you had a life with her.

Holding the child in his arms, still unseen by Jason, Tuyen looked on impassively as he waited for Jason’s sobs to abate. Tuyen was not looking forward to what he knew was going to come next, as soon as Jason’s tears abated enough. When they did, as Tuyen knew would happen, his misery turned to anger and focused on the stranger.

“What did you do to her?” He demanded. Tuyen shook his head sadly and went to speak, before Jason interrupted.

“You killed her!” He got to his feet slowly, hands balled into fists, but frozen at his side, trapped by his emotions. Tuyen winced and closed his eyes for a moment, bowing his head.

“Maybe,” he spoke softly. “But she lives on.”

Holding out the child, Tuyen noted the look of wonder that stole over Jason’s face, as he gently took the tiny infant into his arms. He stared at the baby in rapt amazement, afraid to believe that she had survived. Tuyen watched Jason’s reaction with a new kind of jealousy. The Angel knew the pregnancy killed Angela, and why. All Jason would ever know was that it had been difficult. He would never know how his wife died; he would never know he wasn’t the father. But Tuyen knew, and could never forget.

You lucky fool
,
Jason…

“What’s her name?” Tuyen asked softly. Jason looked up at the stranger in vague surprise, distracted from his focus on the child.

“Uh…” He stuttered, trying to think. He turned his eyes back to her, remembering something Angela had once said when she’d been reading about Greek mythology again. About the Trojan war.

Jason had missed it the first time she’d said it, looking up from his own book only to hear her finish her statement “…nice name if it’s a girl.”

Jason had missed it the first time, but he never forgot it after Angela repeated it.

“Cassandra.”

Tuyen nodded to himself.
May her life not be so cursed
, he thought sadly. He turned to go, before he stopped and went back to the body. He looked one final time at the face of the woman he loved, now set in a peaceful smile that jarred with her surroundings, before he reached down and removed the feather that still lay around her neck.

Turning back to Jason, he wrapped the chain loosely around one of Cassandra’s pudgy forearms. That done, he stepped out of the room and began to walk down the hall.

Jason stared at the figure, knowing he should be pressing for more answers but unable to think beyond the knowledge that his wife had died in childbirth. Hesitating, he followed after Tuyen, puzzling at the scars on the stranger’s back.

“Who are you?” He finally asked. “What were you doing here?” At the front door, Tuyen turned and gave him a bitter smile. “A friend of Angela’s,” he said softly, turning his gaze briefly back to the infant before he closed his eyes and turned away. Opening the door, Tuyen walked outside and up the street, a solitary figure on the quiet, midday road. His hands hung limply at his side, still stained in the blood of his love.

Jason watched the stranger go, brain moving sluggishly over the events that had just happened. Angela was dead. He couldn’t seem to acknowledge this fact—he was aware of it, and heartbroken, but it just didn’t seem real enough. He felt like he’d been hit in the head, like he was in shock.

In his arms, Cassandra gurgled and waved her arms erratically, causing the chain wrapped around one of them to jingle softly and attract Jason’s attention. He looked down at her again, and for a brief moment felt exactly as Tuyen had; unsure whether to love or hate this tiny creature. But, without the knowledge that the Angel had, he found it much easier to shake the thought from his head.

Don’t be ridiculous,
Jason chided himself.
She can’t be blamed, she’s just a child.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jason carried Cassandra through to the nursery, finished only the weekend before. Placing her gently in the crib, he hesitantly touched her cheek, before he drifted back to the kitchen and called the hospital.

FORTY-FIVE.

TWO DAYS LATER,
the funeral was held in the same church where Jason and Angela had wed so few months before. Contrary to stereotype, the day did not dawn overcast. Aside from a chill wind, it was clear and sunny; just another summer day.

After the ceremony, the group then moved on to the cemetery for the burial. As the crowd of black-dressed mourners surrounded the grave—some weeping, some numb, but many with tears in their eyes—no one noticed the silent figure that watched from a distance, face hidden by dark hair, and the shadow of the tree he stood under. Tears trickled down his face as he waited for the priest to finish, and for the crowd to disperse.

After everyone had gone, Tuyen walked up to the freshly filled grave and looked at it mournfully.

I’ve probably cursed you to damnation for what I did, my Goddess
, he thought unhappily, fists clenched by his side.
I would give anything to have saved you
.

Reaching into the suit jacket he wore, Tuyen pulled out a feather that he had removed earlier. Its tip was stained crimson with Angela’s blood: no matter how hard Tuyen tried, he could not remove the plasma’s hue from his wings. Like the scar on his face, it was just another painful reminder of what he had done, and the price he had paid. Kneeling by the grave, the Angel gently placed the feather next to a bouquet of roses that had been left.

The roses had been from Sharon. She’d remembered how much Angela loved roses, and it hadn’t gone amiss to her that Jason didn’t seem to know this. It felt like a hopeless gesture, but it was all Sharon could think to do after she heard the news.

Tuyen stayed there for a moment, his hand resting on Angela’s tombstone, before he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on the cool marble.

“What were you doing there?”

Turning and standing quickly, Tuyen met Jason’s eye, noting how much older the young man appeared to look; as if fifteen years had passed since the last time they’d met. His normally neat appearance was dishevelled and he looked haggard, worn out.

“What were you doing in my house?” Jason repeated softly. Tuyen turned to leave, but Jason grabbed him by the arm to stop him.

“The front door was locked when I arrived. How did you get in?”

“Angela called me,” Tuyen said quietly.

“After she called me? Before?” Jason persisted, refusing to release his grip.

“After, I think.” The Angel sighed. “I was closer. Something happened after she called you, and she panicked. She called me, and I came.”

“And what? Climbed in through the window?”

Tuyen turned his gaze to Jason and said nothing; eyes impassive, but at the same time raging.

“Why did she call you?” Jason’s voice took on a pitiful whine, “I don’t know who you are, and she’s never mentioned you at all, so
why did she call you
?”

“What does it matter, Jason?” Tuyen snapped. “What do you want to hear? That I’m her secret lover, and we’ve been trysting while you were at work?” The Angel let out a bitter laugh as Jason flushed hotly. “Give yourself
some
credit, you fool! You know Angela wasn’t like that!” Wrenching his arm free, Tuyen turned back to look at the grave as he struggled to control his temper. Jason stared at the back of his head for a long while.

“We were old friends, from when she was studying,” Tuyen said eventually. “I’ve seen her maybe once since you two got married. But she knew I was close by. She called me, and I came, Jason. That’s all you need to know. I came, and I watched her die, and there was nothing I could do about it.”

Tuyen turned his head and fixed Jason with a cold stare that chilled the man, as if it saw into his soul. “Be glad you never had to see what she went through.”

Without waiting for a response, Tuyen stalked off, leaving Jason alone by the grave. He looked down at the flowers resting on the fresh earth, and noticed the crimson and ivory feather.
She always seemed to have feathers…

Shaking his head wearily, he turned and walked slowly back to the car, where Vera waited for him with Cassandra in her arms.

FORTY-SIX.

PACING THROUGH THE WOODS
that bordered the cemetery, Tuyen removed his jacket and shirt as he walked, dropping them onto the ground where they disappeared instantly. Reaching a small clearing, the Angel spread his wings, pumping them as he leaped into the air. His expression was dark as he soared beneath the afternoon sun, brooding on his final conversation with Jason.

He just wanted answers
, a quiet voice in his mind prompted.

What he wanted was someone to blame
, Tuyen answered the voice bitterly.
Just because it’s my fault, I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. At least he
had
her.

Shaking his head to dispel the thoughts, Tuyen banked in the direction of his cliff, desiring the solitude. Seconds after he had landed upon it, he heard a familiar rustling sound settling on the edge behind him.

Sighing to himself, he turned to face the Sentinel—only one this time—that stood before him.

“Come for my wings, now?” He asked hotly. “Or was damning her soul enough for them?”

The Sentinel regarded Tuyen sadly, and shook its head. It reached out to touch Tuyen’s burn but he stepped back out of reach, wings mantling protectively about himself.

“Why did this happen?” He asked angrily. “It’s always been prevented before; what was so different this time?”

~They needed her.~

The words were spoken directly to Tuyen’s mind as the being stood before him; its sexless form evolved beyond the normal range of speech. Tuyen shook his head, dissatisfied with the answer.

“But why? Why now? Why
her
?”

~We do not question. You know that.~

The Sentinel watched Tuyen and felt his anger, waiting to see if he would respond. When he made no movement or sound, it seemed to sigh softly, and continued.

~She was needed. The little one has a part to play. We needed you both to complete the task.~

Slowly, the higher Angel reached forward and placed its hand across the burn on Tuyen’s face. There was a sudden flash, light completely immersing him. And in that moment, he understood. He understood why Cassandra was needed. Saw the good she was to do. Saw the lives she was destined to save, and the reverberations her actions could bring in the years to come.

In that same moment, he also saw what would happen
without
Cassandra’s influence.

As the being removed its hand, Tuyen’s own reached up to touch his cheek. The burn was gone.

“I was…
made
to love her?” He asked. The Sentinel nodded, shook its head and shrugged all at the same time.

~It is not ours to say. But it was needed. You have both been appropriately rewarded for your pain.~

“She…isn’t damned?” Tuyen asked hopefully. “Paradise?” The Sentinel nodded once. Immediately, Tuyen spread his wings to take off, but the being grabbed his shoulder and shook its head.

~You cannot see her.~

“What?” Tuyen looked at the Sentinel in confusion, wings still spread. “But—”

~You cannot see her. Laws were still broken. You must pay for that. They have another task for you.~

Sighing wearily, Tuyen folded his wings, too tired to argue the paradox.

“Will I ever get to see her?” He asked plaintively. The Sentinel seemed to sigh again.

~It is not ours to say. Perform your Duties. Then, they will decide.~

“What is their task, then?” Tuyen did his best to swallow his anger, fists clenching at his side.

The being seemed to laugh then—as if the answer should be obvious—before it pointed back down to civilization.

~Raise your daughter.~