Still, the face that held the haunted look that was his last memory of life held no true meaning to him as he sifted through new knowledge.
It was said that all answers came in death. If that was the case, then why was he still confused and unsure of what had happened. No, there had to be something that he was missing.
James thought back again as he continued to float—was he flying or floating—along out of time and space. It felt more like flying than anything, and the memory of having wings came back to him as well.
With a stretch, the wings returned to their place on his back, though they weren’t the same color that he thought they were before. More grey than black, and they had a shimmer to them that made them nearly impossible to see when the light hit just right. He looked like he was part angel, but that was impossible. Angels were—
A blast of fire seemed to ricochet through him and he curled up in sudden pain. His memory was bombarded with images, sounds, smells and brief flashes of barely recollected moments as he forced himself to make sense of them all.
He painted a picture with them, taking a voice from here and a scene from there as he continued to fly in the nothingness. It was like building a puzzle with no picture, slow going, but possible to do. And he had all the time in the world to work on it. Slowly, the image he was building took shape, the memory of a life lived and a second chance nearly wasted. There were a few pieces missing when he had thought he had finished, but there weren’t any remaining in his hand or head. James stared at it, intent on having it make sense before he continued on his way.
The pain shot through his body again and he remembered.
Brigett.
Anahita.
Drinking the blood of an angel that was freely given what seemed a lifetime ago—and maybe it was.
Angel blood. Blood that was still within him and kept him from fully dying when he thought that he was gone in a flurry of glowing ashes. Blood that kept his memory safe, his soul intact. James turned around, looking behind him for the first time. The parking lot was there before him as he floated above it. Diu, a devilish, yet gentlemanly smile on his face, stood in front of Anahita, before Brigett, knife in hand. She was on the ground, on her knees, forced to kneel before him by others of his once family as they held her there, immobile.
Angel blood spilt on the ground as Diu’s knife bit into her neck and all James could do was watch.
But blood called to blood, and James found himself drawn closer until he was touching Brigett’s back with a hand, comforting her. She stared up at him, eyes losing the light that had once shone bright in them, and smiled. “Do not weep, James,” she told him quietly. How she was able to speak with her throat slit was a wonder to him, but it was a wonder he did not question.
“How can I not,” he questioned. He took her hand in his and squeezed.
“Belief,” she answered. “Belief that this is not the end. That we are not finished. Do you believe me? Do you believe we can still win this?”
Kissing her hand, he rose from his place beside her, taking her forgotten sword with him. “Yes.”
The single word pierced the night air. Anahita died as Diu turned around. Shock, disbelief, emotions with no names rushed across his face and across those who still remained with him. “You are dead!” he yelled at James, his calm exterior coming undone at the sight of something which had no explanation. “I killed you myself!”
“Creation rises once more,” he found himself saying, unsure of where the words came from. “Blood keeps me here longer than I should be. Blood, freely given out of love from an angel who meant to save me.” James grinned a boyish grin. “Didn’t she tell you, Diu? This was never about you.” He cast Anahita’s sword to the side, away from him. It clattered to the ground and stopped skidding at the feet of a very small red-headed vampire. “Emaline, will you come with me?”
Footsteps.
A small hand placed in his outstretched one in some of the last moments before a sunrise the Court
didn’t realize was so near.
“Yes,” she told him. Her small voice carried weight that was impossible to measure in the false dawn.
One word, but it spoke of promises and love and death and life.
James walked to Anahita’s fallen body and took it in his arms. Cradled to his chest with one, he raised the other in a mockery of a benediction towards what remained of Diu and his Court. “Rest now. Rest, eternally.”
He took Emaline’s hand in his once more and unfolded wings. The sunlight crested over the nearby hills and struck them, snow white against the black pavement. A burst of them, and the three of them took flight. Above was the new day’s sun, blue sky and, James hoped, a place where they might rest.
Below him, James caught sight of Diu darting around in an attempt to find a shadow that he might hide in. In the empty parking lot, the Court that had once been as family burst into flames and fell to ash at the sun touched them. And the man who had once been as his father found no safe place to name as refuge.
He saw Diu close his eyes and hold his arms out to his sides as he greeted the new day.
The elder vampire felt the sun’s rays hit him for the first time in three centuries. With his last actions, he uttered old words he had grown up with, forced himself to forget because they made him weak, but still remembered. “Kyrie eleison,” James heard him murmur, and watched as Diu crossed himself even as he turned to ash.
XI- Beatitudo
The boy and the girl had been in love for as long as they could remember. Sometimes, it felt like forever in their minds. They had gone through more than most could ever think of, changes that ended with core beliefs being shaken, thoughts that the other had been dead for years.
But events had come to pass in such a way that they found each other once again. The smallest of their group grew in a world that knew compassion, wisdom, and a simple grace that came from doing what was right even if it resulted in an end.
It was a world full of miracles that she had seen, the reemergence of a family she had thought lost.
James was content for the first time he could remember. Belief, he was told, was what had brought Brigett back to him. Compassion was what had kept her from leaving him completely. The angel blood within her made her spirit immortal, though her body was not. She returned to him a few days later, new body, old soul, and remembering how he had grieved at her loss and how Emaline had kept him from killing himself as well.
For though he had angel blood within him as well, his second chance and his miracle of rescuing Emaline had exhausted what had remained in him. Were he to die now, it would be true death, and all that came with it.
Others came to see them, each with their own tale to tell, though the story of the two lovers was one that seemed to grow with every telling until there was not a spirit nor demon in the world who did not know their name.
He wondered what would happen to him after his death, for he was not one who had lived a good life in his tenure on Earth. Brigett simply smiled at him when he shared his grief with her, his worries and his pain, she said, were nothing compared to what he had done for good.
Still, she kept a secret from him all through their time together. Though it ate at her, she knew no good would come of it were he to ever find out the truth about her journey to earth that had brought them together. He had thought that it had been about rescuing Emaline. When she had told him that was but a happy happenstance that had occurred during her mission, he had smiled and nodded, thinking he understood. She knew that he thought it was about redeeming himself.
It never had been.
As an angel, she had done the unthinkable and lied.
She had told Diu that it had never been about him.
Brigett smiled softly.
It was a secret she was glad to keep.
***
If you would like to learn more about the author, please visit her at inkblabber.wordpres
s.com
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends