Read The Light and Fallen Page 4


  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.

  Chapter 16

  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.

  Chapter 17

  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 he
r 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."

  Chapter 18

  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.

  Document production was just one of the many functions that allowed angels to live undetected. Just one of the many things he had yet to learn about. That was the great thing about being a little more than human. Although he was forced to accept the limitations of his body, the Guardians could supply him with anything he might want or need.

  The gas pump had a small yellow prepay sticker on it, so he headed into the gas station. He flipped through the crisp twenty dollar bills in his wallet and pulled out two to pay the cashier. When he walked back into the parking lot a bright yellow Mustang with white racing stripes and sparkling rims was parked only inches behind him. As he got closer he recognized Jack, the boy from the locker room, leaning against its hood.

  Jack waved lazily as Lucian walked toward him. "Nice truck."

  "It gets me where I need to go." Lucian nodded toward the Mustang. "Is that yours?"

  Jack nodded. "Just got it last week," he said. He patted the hood, then pushed himself up and sauntered toward Lucian. He stretched out a hand and gave him a wide smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I was passing by and wanted to say hi. We weren't properly introduced today, and since we're the new kids in town, we really should stick together."

  Lucian took his extended hand, and Jack clenched his fist tightly. One of his knuckles popped as Jack leaned in closer. "In fact," he whispered, "I think we'll get to know one another very well."

  He let go of Lucian's hand and took a small step back, watching. Lucian stood motionless and met Jack's stare straight on. "Maybe," he said. "Only time can tell."

 

  Chapter 19

  After a few seconds Jack spun on his heel and slid behind the wheel of the Mustang. He revved its V-8 engine before he slammed the car into reverse and peeled out of the gas station parking lot. He sped through town until he hit the outskirts, then pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor and flew down the highway into the darkening twilight.

  After a few miles he slowed his speed slightly and turned onto an unmarked side road. It was narrow at first, then suddenly opened up and twisted to the right. It cut through a wide, manicured field and ended in front of a pair of black security gates. He slid to a smooth stop and pushed a small button next to the gearshift, causing the gates to shudder, and then swing aside. A security camera was trained on the gates and he blew a kiss into the lens as he drove beneath it. Desiree was probably watching him on the security system right now.

  A graceful, white columned mansion loomed in front of him, and he parked the car in an empty bay of its massive attached garage. When he entered the house through a side door, he stepped into a kitchen straight out of a magazine. It was excessive really, he thought, all slick granite and gleaming stainless steel.

  Desiree was sitting at the kitchen island when he walked into the room. He knew she'd heard him come in, but she didn't turn around or acknowledge him in any way. He repressed a small smile as he ran his eyes over the graceful curves of her shoulders. He had stayed with many Guardians over the centuries, but she would always be his favorite.

  He walked around the edge of the island and saw that she was sipping a blood-red wine. He spun the bottle in front of her so that he could read the label and raised an eyebrow. "Expensive," he said. "What are we celebrating?"

  "You tell me." She slid her eyes in his direction and fixed him with a hard, glittering stare. "You certainly look pleased with yourself."

  "It's definitely him." Jack slid an empty glass from a holder beneath the counter and twirled its stem between his fingers. "I shook his hand so hard I would've broken his fingers if he were human. He didn't even flinch."

  "Was that wise?" Desiree spun her chair around and faced him fully. "Positively revealing yourself by crushing his hand? Seems like you threw away the element of surprise."

  Jack reached for the bottle and let some of the ruby liquid trail into his glass. "I don't need surprise," he said. "I just need to get into his head."

  He swirled the wineglass slowly. "It wouldn't take him long to figure it out anyway. We have PE together."

  "Show a little restraint," Desiree suggested. "And put that glass back. You shouldn't be drinking."

  Jack rolled his eyes. "So you're older and wiser now?" he mocked. "Here I was thinking we were the same age."

  "It's not about age," she snapped. "It's about you! You're reckless, just like you always have been." She snatched the glass out of his hand and slid it away from him. "I thought you would age better, but clearly I was wrong."

  Jack slammed his palms onto the counter and leaned into Desiree until he was so close her hair brushed against his cheek. "I am better!" he snapped.

  He closed his eyes as he tried to compose himself, then rocked back on his heels. "I'm the best. No one can track the Light like me."

  "I know." Desiree slid off her stool and sauntered around the granite island, trailing her fingertips over its smooth surface. She was wearing a short black sheath with strategically placed ruffles that drew his eyes down her body to her long, toned legs.

  "You're here because you are the best." She stopped in front of Jack and placed her hands on his shoulders. With the height of her heels he was able to look straight into her smoldering eyes. "But just because you're the best doesn't mean you cannot fail."

  She slid her hands slowly over his biceps and down his forearms without breaking her gaze, and his pulse quickened as his body responded to her touch. She shifted closer to him and her breath tickled his lips. "We're so close," she whispered. "Finally, after all this time. All you need to do is focus. Find out what he's doing here and stop him."

  Chapter 20

  Lucian wished he could know for sure who was human. Not having a way to tell was so inconvenient. Jack had been strong. Almost too strong. Was he human, or one of the Host? And if he was one of the Host, which side was he on?

  He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he drove past Duncan and Sofia's house twice. He
was making his third trip around the block when Duncan stepped out onto the front porch and waved him in.

  As he turned into the gravel drive he was struck by how out of place the house looked. All the surrounding houses were made of light colored brick, had extremely green grass, and sat close to the road. Duncan and Sofia's farmhouse, in contrast, had a sprawling front yard blanketed with moss and ferns. The house wasn't large, but it was graced with an expansive porch overflowing with chairs and pots of vibrantly colored flowers.

  Duncan jogged down the steps as Lucian parked the truck under the spreading branches of a large oak tree that dominated the front yard. "Come on inside," he said. "Sofia saved you a plate." He clapped a beefy hand on Lucian's shoulder and guided him up the front steps and through the screen door.

  "In the kitchen," Sofia called. She was placing a steaming bowl of stew on a scarred table large enough to feed at least twelve when Lucian entered. He fell into the nearest chair, suddenly exhausted and ravenous, and realized that he hadn't eaten all day. He couldn't identify the chunks in the stew, but it smelled delicious, and he shoved a hot spoonful into his mouth.

  "Slow down," Sofia urged him. "It's not going to disappear."

  She poured herself a glass of water and sat down across the table, and Duncan joined her with a slab of chocolate cake and a pitcher of milk. He knew they wanted to ask about his day, but they both seemed content to wait.

  He was struck again by their quiet harmony. They seemed perfectly matched, but there could be few couples on Earth that looked like they belonged together less. Duncan was six foot seven with the broad build of a linebacker, dark hooded eyes, and a large bald head. His ebony skin stretched taut over muscles that bulged from places most people didn't even know they had. Sofia was tall too, only a few inches shorter than Lucian, willowy and slender. She wasn't overtly muscular like Duncan was, but he knew she was strong. Her every movement exuded a deep sense of serenity.