The Light and Fallen (5 page)

She stuck her chin out in a mock pout, then
quickly shifted her attention and reached across Bethanny's lap to
pat Samara on the knee. "Speaking of hot!" she said, "How about
that new guy? Isn't he just the most gorgeous thing you've ever
seen?"

She jabbed Bethanny in the ribs. "Have you
seen him?"

Carin gestured flamboyantly toward the boys'
side of the gym without waiting for an answer. "He's over there. In
the back. The one that looks like a sexy woodsman."

Samara met Bethanny's eye and choked back a
laugh. "Why a woodsman?" she asked.

"I don't know…. He looks muscular; he's
wearing plaid. He can swing my ax any time!" Carin nudged
Bethanny's knee with her elbow and giggled.

Bethanny rolled her eyes. "I can only guess
what that's supposed to mean," she snorted.

Carin leaned closer and lowered her voice
like she was about to reveal a secret. "I don't know which one I
want to go out with first," she whispered. "Lucian Smith or Jack
Stone."

Jack stood alone in the center of the boys'
locker room. He wrinkled his nose as he looked around at the
chipped green lockers, mostly still empty and hanging open on their
hinges, and the industrial metal benches that were bolted to the
floor. A stiff sock lurked in a back corner, and he suspected it
was just a small contributor to the overall funkiness of the
room.

Coach Dobbs had sent him in to look for spare
shorts. He knew the Coach was trying to be nice, but it was
pathetic really. As if he would touch an old gym uniform worn by a
some overgrown jock who probably didn't wear underwear and never
washed his clothes. The whole idea made him want to heave.

He was far more interested in himself. He
walked over to one of the grimy, full length mirrors hanging on the
wall and saw the reflection of a tall, broad shouldered boy. He ran
a hand down the contours of his arm and watched his gray t-shirt
ripple as the muscles moved in response. When he lifted the edge of
his shirt slightly at the bottom, he revealed a smooth, muscular
stomach. He flexed his abs experimentally, then dropped his shirt
and leaned in close to study his face.

This wasn't his favorite body. It was too
young to legally do some of the things he most enjoyed. It was,
however, undeniably attractive. And really, he smirked, when had
legalities ever stopped him?

He traced his fingertips along the hard line
of his jaw and across the high, chiseled cheekbones reflected in
the mirror, then turned his face from side to side and looked at
his thick honey colored hair. He looked wholesome. Innocent.
Like a frickin' All-American
, he thought.

The most arresting thing about his face, what
he knew he would use to his advantage, were his eyes. They were a
deep, smoky gray and framed with lashes so lush and dark they would
make any girl jealous. No, this wasn't his favorite body. But it
would definitely do.

Footsteps echoed in the concrete hallway that
separated the boys' and girls' locker rooms, and he turned away
from the mirror and pretended to look in one of the open lockers.
When he heard the door slam shut behind him he turned and arched an
eyebrow. "Looking for shorts?" he asked. "They're all yours."

Jack pushed past Lucian and headed back down
the hallway to the gym. When he stepped through the low doorway a
few of the more athletic looking boys in the bleachers gave him
hostile looks. He knew they were intimidated by his height and
muscular build. They were so easy to read, like dogs looking down a
losing fight for alpha.
They should be intimidated
, he
thought.
More than they already are.

The girls were watching him too. He could see
them in his peripheral vision, staring at him. He was framed in the
dim light of the corridor, and they were devouring his silhouette
with their eyes. He stretched in a nonchalant way that flexed a few
of his new muscles and smiled. There was a lot to hate about these
bodies, and he did hate them. He would trade every skin he'd ever
had for a true form. But even he couldn't deny that being human had
a few pleasures.

Lucian watched the clock and waited for the
final bell to ring. The last class of the day seemed to creep by
more slowly than a whole year outside of time. He inched forward
onto the edge of his seat as he watched the minute hand creep
closer to three o'clock, and felt impatient for the first time in
his existence.

He longed for a quick glimpse of the
Timeline, just to see if anything had changed, but he knew that was
impossible. Forbidden. He had never known so little about what the
future might hold.

He felt like he had never known so little in
general. He was a Higher Order, and Higher Orders were only called
down in drastic circumstances. It had only been necessary a few
times before; there weren't many problems the angels already on the
Earth couldn't handle. Now that he was here, he wasn't sure what to
do or how long it would be necessary for him to stay.

Most of the Light that crossed planned to
stay on Earth for hundreds of years. There were even a handful that
had crossed after the Great Flood and never returned. Protecting
humans became their passion. They gave up their true forms, lived
like humans, let themselves age. Their bodies slipped away and they
were reborn over and over again.

Lucian knew that his presence, the fact that
he
had to cross, meant that something was seriously,
frighteningly wrong. Something bigger than all the Warriors and
Guardians on earth could fix. Something big enough to make the
future disappear.

His mission, and apparently the answer to the
darkness, was the key. It was the most important thing in the
world, and he had no idea how to find it. He tapped his fingers on
the desk in front of him as he turned the idea over in his mind.
That could mean anything. It, whatever it was, could be
anywhere.

He tapped his fingers faster, drumming them
hard against the desk as he tried to form some sort of plan. His
fingers were flying, a blur, when he realized that the girl sitting
to his right was glaring at him. He choked back a growl of
irritation and glanced at the clock.

Four minutes had passed.

He quashed an intense urge to get up and
smash the clock with a book. Instead, he clenched his hands
together into a tight ball and forced himself to sit still. He was
startled by the burst of emotion that coursed through him. The
force of his impatience was wild, hot and primal. For a second he
was lost, all skin.

He held onto the edges of the desk until his
knuckles turned white, and after a few seconds the rash impulse
began to ebb away, replaced with the calm serenity that he normally
felt. He slowly allowed himself to relax as his sense of control
returned. Human emotions were definitely going to take some getting
used to. He had known they would, but he hadn't been prepared for
their strength.

He snuck another glance at the clock and saw
that only a minute had passed. He was embarrassed to admit to
himself how annoying being forced to wait for a few short minutes
could be. It seemed ridiculous, considering that he had existed for
such an infinitely long time.

After thirteen more torturous minutes the
bell finally set him free. He leaped to his feet and hurried out
the front door. He had done what the Guardians had asked; he'd
wasted almost eight hours sitting in a little desk. Now, finally,
he could focus on the key.

He had just pulled open the door to his truck
and thrown his bag into the passenger seat when he saw Samara. She
had pulled her hair back into a ponytail and was sitting in her car
fiddling with the radio. Another rash impulse flashed through his
brain.
Go over
, it nudged him.
Thank her for talking to
you at lunch. For helping you find the gym.

Lucian considered it for a moment, but then
he shook his head. It would be foolish to spend any more time with
her. He had already thought about her too much today. And told her
she was beautiful. And intriguing.

Why did I do that?
he chastised
himself. It was true, but he shouldn't have said it. He should've
let her walk away.
She's just a distraction
, he thought. He
turned away and swung himself into the truck. A distraction was
something he definitely didn't have time for.

Samara plugged a CD into the player and
backed into the line of cars exiting the parking lot. She turned
the radio up as the line inched forward, and considered whether or
not she should stop to get groceries on the way home. She knew she
probably should, but instead she turned out of the parking lot and
headed towards home. There was always a chance that her mom had
cooked today.

When she turned the corner onto her street
she sighed. She pulled into the driveway and parked directly behind
an ancient wood paneled Plymouth whose front two tires were off the
concrete and had weeds growing up against them. She was blocking it
in, but it didn't matter. Her mom still hadn't left the house.

She jogged up the steps and gave the front
door two quick raps before unlocking it. "Mom?" she called. She
stepped into the dark entryway and flicked on the lights. "Mom,"
she called again, "where are you?"

She headed to her parents' bedroom without
waiting for an answer. When she pushed the bedroom door open she
could see her mother leaning against the windowsill. The afternoon
sun shone brightly around her, and threw her unmoving figure into
shadow.

Samara flipped on the lights and tossed her
backpack on the floor. "Hey," she said. "Do anything exciting
today?"

"Not a thing." Dina turned and gave a forced
smile. "Are you home early?"

"Nope." Samara pointed to the digital clock
on her mom's dresser. "It's 3:45."

Dina focused on the clock and blinked. "I
guess it is."

Samara walked slowly across the room and
stood beside her mother at the window. "What do you want to eat
tonight?" she asked. She ran a hand across Dina's hair and smoothed
it behind one ear. "And don't say you're not hungry. I don't want
you wasting away on me."

When Dina didn't answer, Samara followed her
sightline into the backyard. She was staring toward the back fence
where a large willow tree with long, ethereal branches grew. She
grabbed her mother's hand and tugged gently. "Come on," she chided.
"You can't stay in here looking at a tree."

She propelled her mother out of the bedroom
and into the kitchen and settled her into a slatted wooden chair,
then turned to the pantry and dug for something to turn into
dinner. After a quick search of the empty shelves she grabbed a
mostly full box of pasta and the remnants of a bottle of olive
oil.

"How does pasta with garlic sound?" she
asked. "There's not a lot here, but I can stop at the store on my
way home tomorrow and pick some other things up for the rest of the
week." She pulled out a large pot and started filling it with tap
water without waiting for her mother to answer.

Dina got up and came to stand beside Samara
as the pot filled. "Here," she said. She turned off the water and
took the pot from Samara. "I'll do that."

She put the pot on the stove and turned the
burner on high, then reached into the cabinet and pulled out a
smaller pan for the garlic. "I know you think I'm crazy," she said.
"It's just that I remember when he planted that. It was such a
beautiful day.

"You were four, and we had just moved into
this house. We watched him dig this huge hole, and then when I went
around front to get the tree, you tried to put all the dirt back."
She laughed softly. "You were such a mess! Do you remember?"

She sniffed, and Samara saw her swipe her
eyes with a dishcloth before she tossed the garlic into the pan.
When she turned around there was a smile on her face, but it looked
thin and fragile. "There," she said. "That's done. Now tell me
about you. Tell me all about the first day of school."

Samara weighed how much to say before she
answered. She didn't want to lie to her mother, but she definitely
didn't want to say some people seemed afraid to talk to her, and
she knew if she mentioned Lucian her mom would want to know every
detail. She couldn't talk about him yet; she wasn't ready. Their
whole conversation in the library had been so wonderfully surreal
she couldn't even explain it to herself.

"Well," she said, "I'm working in the office
first hour. With Carin, do you remember her? We went to junior high
together. And I met a few new people..." She let her voice trail
off and played with the edge of a napkin. Dina was already gone,
staring into space. "So nothing too out of the ordinary," she
finished. "Just a regular day."

Lucian turned onto another side street and
rode the brakes. He was driving aimlessly, and his gas gauge was
hovering on empty. When he pulled up to a stop sign he glanced down
at the dashboard clock and was surprised to see that it was after
six o'clock.

He'd been eager to start searching for the
key when school got out, but he had no idea where to begin. This
was his first mission, but he'd thought the way it worked was that
when he made himself willing and available he would be led to the
key. Or a clue. Or something.

That hadn't happened. He hadn't come up with
anything. He had just driven around a lot, and now he was out of
gas.

He could see the bright lights of a gas
station a few blocks away, and he pulled in to fill up. He had the
money and credit cards from Duncan in his wallet, along with his
new driver's license. He still wasn't sure where his license or
other personal documents had come from, or who had delivered them
to Duncan and Sofia's house. Or, for that matter, how his various
personal details had been selected. He assumed that this was one of
the jobs that members of the Light filled.