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Angel, Page 42

L. A. Weatherly

Page 42

 

  “If you help me up. ”

  Now that we were actually getting out, I felt almost calm. I put my hands on the sill, and Alex gave me a boost, lifting me up by the waist. I went through the window and twisted around. Holding on to the sill, I dangled my legs down and then dropped to the ground, stumbling a little as I landed on the screen. I shoved it out of the way, along with our bags. The window was more of a squeeze for Alex, but a few seconds later he had squirmed out and jumped down beside me.

  “Can you close the window if I lift you up?” he said, looking back at it. “Just in case he gets in — he might think that he somehow missed us going out the front. ”

  I shook my head, almost smiling. “You think of everything, don’t you?”

  His mouth twitched. “I try. Here, get on my shoulders. ” He bent down. Resting a hand on the hardness of his shoulder, I straddled his neck; he looped his arms over my legs and lifted me up as lightly as if I didn’t weigh a thing. Stretching upward, I slid the window shut, trying not to notice how it felt to be so close to him.

  When I was on the ground again, Alex glanced out toward the road. “You’d better stay here while I go for the car. Will you be OK?”

  We were in a small grove of pine trees, partially hidden. I nodded. “Yeah, I think so. ”

  He hesitated as he gazed down at me, his eyes troubled. “I don’t suppose you’d take my gun if I gave it to you, would you?”

  The thought sent chills through me. My eyes flickered to his waistband, where I knew the gun lay under the gray T-shirt hanging loosely over his jeans. “Uh — no. I seriously couldn’t use a gun on anyone, Alex. ”

  He sighed, shoving his hair back. “No, I didn’t think so. Look, just keep out of sight, OK? Keep safe. I’ll be back as fast as I can. ”

  “Be careful,” I said. My throat felt dry suddenly. “I mean — please, be really careful. ”

  “I will. ” He turned and walked out toward the road, his hands shoved casually in his back pockets. A few minutes later, he had turned the corner and was gone from sight. The trees seemed to fall very still. I put my sunglasses on and sat leaning against the outside wall of the motel with my arms wrapped around my knees, trying to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. It was warm, even here in the shade; I could feel the back of my neck growing damp.

  The minutes passed, stretching out. I tried to count them, wondering if Alex had had time yet to reach the garage. Oh, God, please let him be OK, I thought. Please let whoever was watching us think that we were still sitting in the room, eating too-sweet donuts and drinking awful motel coffee.

  After a while my legs started to feel stiff. I stood up, leaning against the rough gray bark of a pine tree as I stared anxiously out at the road. He must have gotten there by now. What was taking him so long? Across the road, a woman wearing a bright yellow sundress sat waiting for a bus. There was a baby stroller next to her; as I watched, she peered into it, laughing and shaking her head, and then reached in as if she was adjusting her baby’s blanket. She looked so happy that my nervousness faded slightly.

  The woman glanced up, her expression startled. I followed her gaze, and my heart faltered.

  There was an angel flying toward her.

  The bark dug into my cheek as I pressed against the tree. I didn’t want to watch, but I couldn’t stop. The angel appeared female, with long hair that flowed past its shoulders. Its robes swayed gently as it landed, its glorious wings spread. The angel folded them behind its back and started forward. Light streamed from its fingers as it rested its hands on the woman, who was gazing up at it with awestruck wonder. And then it began to feed.

  The woman’s life energy came into my view. I could see it draining, collapsing in on itself, fading from a vibrant pink and violet to a dull gray. But the woman just sat there on the bench, staring up at the angel with an expression of such love and gratitude that I had to duck my head away, screwing my eyes tightly shut. From what seemed a great distance, I heard her baby start to cry.

  The sound of a car approaching, then slowing down. I forced myself to look. It was Alex, pulling over to the curb. Across the street behind him, the angel was still feeding, its wings slowly opening and closing like a butterfly on a flower. Its halo gleamed; its beautiful face was tipped back, smiling.

  Move! I shouted at myself. You have to! My legs felt wobbly and unsure of themselves. Ignoring them, I grabbed our bags and ran for the car. As I came out of the shade, the angel seemed to explode into brilliance, sunshine bursting off its white wings. Alex leaned across the seat, opening the door for me; I shoved the bags in, and he swung them into the back. I threw myself into the seat and slammed the door. “Hurry — let’s get out of here,” I said, my voice shaking.

  He pulled away from the curb, looking sharply at me. “What is it? Did you see someone?”

  I shook my head. And I didn’t want to, but I had to — I twisted to look over my shoulder. The angel was gone; there was a woman standing in her place with long black hair and a pretty white top. As I watched, she touched her victim on the shoulder and drifted off down the sidewalk. The woman blinked, looking dazed. As we rounded the corner, I could see her reaching for her baby, and then she passed from view.

  “Willow? What is it?” asked Alex.

  “Nothing,” I managed, turning forward again. “So, you made it to the garage OK. ”

  He nodded, shifting gears as we came to a stoplight. “Yeah, it was fine. I think we got away clear — I saw the guy still standing there watching our room as I drove past. ”

  “Thank God. ” Relief rushed through me, followed by something almost like guilt, that I could feel relieved for myself after what I’d just seen.

  Alex was watching me; he frowned in concern. “Willow, come on, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  I didn’t want to say it. My fingernails dug into my palms as I let out an unsteady breath. “There . . . was an angel, feeding on a woman across the street from the motel. ”

  He winced. “Oh, Christ. No wonder you looked so upset. Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine. I doubt that the woman is. ”

  “Yeah, I know,” he said in a low voice.

  There was a pause. I gazed out the window, still seeing the angel’s wings moving back and forth and the woman’s life energy fading away as she sat there smiling. “How come I’ve never seen that before?” I asked thinly. “Up in Pawtucket?”

  “There aren’t that many angels in upstate New York,” said Alex. “I don’t know why; there seem to be some regions they like better than others. ”

  “But — the Church of Angels in Schenectady is huge. ”

  “It only had one angel, though, from the sounds of it. They kept mentioning our angel during the service. ”

  I went cold. “One angel and . . . all those people?”

  Alex glanced at me. Sounding reluctant, he said, “Some of them really like variety. They might feed on a dozen different people a day. ” The light changed to green; we started forward. I sat in silence, and then I felt his gaze on me again. “Listen, I know how hard it is when you see it happening, but try not to think about it, OK? There wasn’t anything you could do. ”

  The words burst out of me. “Yeah, and how exactly am I supposed to not think about it? Alex, do you know how I knew there was someone outside our room? I was having a dream that I was flying, and I knew I had to go outside, and I saw him — I had wings, just like that thing back there. Except that it wasn’t a dream at all, was it? I did have wings. I —” I broke off, my mouth tightening. No, I wasn’t going to cry. I was not.