Inescapable (The Premonition Series) (17 page)

“Oh, you don’t have a soul?” I ask him in surprise.

“No, only humans have souls—until you, that is. You’re the only angel I have met with a soul…you’re unique,” he says tenderly.

“You’re saying that I’m a living, breathing paradox?” I reply, feeling stunned.

“A hybrid,” he reasons kindly.

“An irony,” I say pessimistically.

“A divine compromise,” he counters.

“An abomination,” I say bleakly.

“No. Never,” he says with his jaw tensing.

“You said that your first impulse when you saw me was to destroy me,” I say sadly, thinking that he may’ve been justified to feel that way.

“I’m sorry, Evie,” Reed sighs, “but angels are jealous creatures,” he explains. “You may recall as well that I said I also wanted to love you and protect you, all at the same time.”

I frown in confusion. “You were jealous of me?” I ask with skepticism.

“You have a soul,” Reed says as if that explanation is enough.

I wrinkle my nose. “And?” I ask.

“And, what do you think our war is about? It’s about souls,” he replies.

My brow unfurls. “Oh, so you would like a soul?” I ask.

“Isn’t that what I just said?” he replies with a sensual tilt of his lips.

“Why don’t you just fly off to Heaven and ask for one? It seems that they might be handing them out now?” I ask, gesturing with a flick of my hand toward the sky.

His smile falters. “Evie, I can’t go to Heaven unless I’m called,” he explains with a note of longing in his tone that I’ve never heard from him.

Crossing back to the sofa, I sit beside him and stifle my sudden urge to press my lips to his to try to kiss away his sadness, mainly because I don’t know how he’d react. “Oh, so how often do they call you back?” I ask, thinking he must’ve been away for a while because he seems almost homesick.

“Evie, I’ve never been called back,” he states evenly.

My eyes widen, and I ask breathlessly, “Never?”
That would mean he has been here nearly forever.

Reed’s voice sounds hollow when he replies, “Never. I have my mission. I’m aware of what needs to be done.”

“Let me get this straight. Are you saying you’ve been here, on Earth, since nearly the dawn of time?” I ask, trying to grasp the concept of that kind of time.

“Yes,” he affirms.

“Doing what?” I wonder aloud.

“Doing what I’m created to do,” he says, while his hand begins to rub my arm in a comforting way.

“And what’s that?” I ask, waiting for his dreadful answer.

I’m not disappointed; it is extremely dreadful to me when he says, “Destroying evil. Fighting the legions of the Fallen damned. I’m a soldier, Evie, an assassin…I told you that.”

“Holy crap!” I squeak.

“Yes,” he smiles at the irony. I can hardly breathe as my heart beats out of control with a mixture of panic and awe. “Evie, are you okay?” he asks me soothingly.

“No.”
I’m not okay. How is any of this okay? He’s a real angel.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, touching my cheek lightly so I’d look at him.

“Ha!
What could be wrong, Reed?” I snap. “You’re a freaking angel, I’m a…I don’t even know what I am…I could be a Trojan horse for all I know. Maybe we should crack me open and see if a bunch of men in skirts jump out of me,” I say in exasperation.

“Don’t be ridiculous, there is nothing in you but you, I would know,” he says patronizingly.

“Of course you would, because you’re an angel!” I whisper-shout at him.

“Shh…Evie, it is okay,” he says, while smoothing my hair behind my ear. “It will be all right. You have a soul. That means that you are capable of redemption. So, no matter where you came from, you have that gift.”

Tentatively, I ask, “So you’re saying it’s possible for me to get into Paradise, even if my dad’s a fallen angel?” I couldn’t bring myself to say demon, preferring the less morose term of fallen angel.

“Yes,” he says, like a caress.

“Because of my soul?” I ask, feeling a modicum of relief.

His expression darkens, “Yes, however—” he begins before I cut him off.

“What?”

Reed sighs reluctantly, “There are certain…drawbacks to an angel possessing a soul.”

“There are…what would they be?” I ask with a sinking ache in the pit of my stomach.

“There are many who would covet your soul and try to destroy you in an attempt to obtain it,” he says, watching my face for signs of distress.

“So, you’re saying I’m a target?” I ask as calmly as possible.

“Yes, for some. For others, you are more like a prize or a trophy, and for the truly damned, you could be a solution to a desperate situation,” Reed says softly, his eyes training on mine.

What kinds of monsters are out there just waiting for something like me to come along?
I shudder inwardly.

The hair on my arms prickle as I whisper, “My soul would be a ticket out of Hell…I mean Sheol?”

Reed pulls me to him, hugging me protectively. “Precisely,” he says as if he’s proud of me for coming to the correct conclusion. I, however, am wishing that I could go back to being blithely ignorant.

With my head resting against his chest, he says, “Your soul is capable of surviving in an angelic body. I haven’t seen that before. I’m certain that no Fallen have seen you yet…they would be so attracted to you, for many reasons. You represent the ultimate danger; you are what had always been forbidden to them. I don’t want to know what one of them would do to you if he found you, and I wonder how you could have remained a secret for so long,” he says, squeezing me tighter as if he would protect me even now.

A small sliver of hope sparks inside of me, showing me just how bleak my world has become, and more importantly, how much I need him. As my mind races, the spark flickers, like the phosphoric-glow of a firefly, so I murmur, “But before, you said you might have to destroy me.”

Reed’s voice sounds serious as he replies, “I have since reasoned that your soul changes everything. You have redemption, and it will not matter from where you came. You have free will, like a human,” he rationalizes for me. “You are also having premonitions which may be divinely inspired.”

I stir uneasily to see his face, asking, “But if protecting me will be dangerous for you, why would you take on that responsibility?”
He’s crazy to get involved with me.

“Evie, do you know how old I am?” he asks me broodingly.

“Old,” I surmise generally because I have no concept of the kind of old he is.

“Yes,” he agrees. “I’ve been here for a long time, evolving along with humans, but not being one of them. I have fought alongside other angels. We’re good soldiers, brutal assassins. We do not behave like family; our friendships are militarily based for the most part.”

“I see,” I say, trying to imagine his evolution.

“I am a soldier…I kill… I do
not feel,”
he says the last word like it is an affliction as he struggles to explain. “But then I saw you, and emotions that I have never felt before…” He glances at my face, trying to see if I understand what he is saying. “You are like a siren who calls to me, and I feel…” he trails off.

“What do you feel?” I urge him, placing my hand gently against his cheek.

“Do you know why I came looking for you today? How I found you sitting on the steps?” he asks, leaning into my hand.

“No,” I breathe, fascinated by the smooth perfection of his face.

“It is your heart. It sings to me; it calls to me. I know when you’re afraid, when you have nightmares that wake you up in the middle of the night. I know when you’re happy. But, you scared me today. Your heart stopped singing. It slowed down, and I could barely hear you. I had to find you…” he says, and moves his face so that his lips brush against my palm tenderly.

“You can hear my heart from far away?” I ask, and think the organ in question might just stop beating from over stimulation when he nods. “And you still have the fluttering, like butterflies?”

“Yes,” he replies.

“This must have happened to you before. I can’t be the only person who has had…” I stop when he shakes his head no. Elation courses through me for a moment until I think to ask, “There has been no one for you?”

“Not on Earth,” he affirms, and my heart breaks for him. To exist for eternity without love…

“It doesn’t make any sense; you’re perfect, and I’m a mutant. What can God be thinking?” I ask him.

“You are not a mutant, and I am not perfect,” he murmurs. “There is one thing I have learned in all of the time that I have been here, and it is the best lesson I can teach you. It is this: never presume to know the mind of God.”

“Yeah, well, that’s an easy lesson for me because I don’t have a clue,” I state with conviction. I think about what he had just said about my heart, and being alone for most of his existence. What could that have been like for him? “Aren’t there, you know, girl angels?” I ask, blushing.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Well, what are they like?” I ask him, feeling somewhat jealous of the divine creatures that I know nothing about.

His green eyes soften as he looks into mine. “Excellent warriors,” he replies.

I sigh. “I mean, what are they like when you’re not fighting?” I probe, hoping to get a glimpse into his world.

His smile turns smug as he asks, “You are asking me how they are different from you?” I nod, wondering if he could tell that I’m jealous. He shrugs, saying, “The ones that were sent to Earth to destroy the Fallen are tough, like their male counterparts. There is almost no femininity to them. They lack the mystique that human women seem to possess, the allure. Some angels do pair up here, but it is for comfort. Rarely do we stay together as partners.”

“You’re kidding?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “We are warriors; we don’t have emotions like humans seem to have, at least, not until recently.” He sounds irritated by the admission. “There are other types of angels that are not warriors. They have other missions and are softer, but I have not been attracted to them either.”

“What about human women? Not one of them has ever attracted you?” I ask incredulously.
What are the odds of that?

Reed’s expression turns askance. “Human women are much too fragile, too breakable; one would have to use extreme restraint to…” he trails off and begins again, “I am extremely strong, and I could…but I have never been tempted to try… there has been no one who…”

“Sings to you?” I ask, taking pity on him and saving him from having to stammer on with his explanation.

“Yes,” he breathes in relief that I’d saved him from having to say more.

“What about me? I’m half human. Am I too fragile?” I hedge my question, being unable to broach the topic fully.

“You are fragile right now. I could shatter you easily, without any effort at all. But soon, that will change, and you will be strong, like an angel,” he replies confidently.

“You act like I’m going to spin a cocoon and undergo a metamorphosis or something,” I say, hoping against hope that I am wrong.

“No, nothing that drastic…well, maybe metamorphosis is a good enough description,” he says thoughtfully.

“How do you know that I will change?” I ask suspiciously.

“We all start out weak and then evolve around your age,” he explains knowingly.

“When?” I ask, my voice hush.

“Soon,” he says softly.

“How soon?” I utter.

He shrugs and says, “When you’re ready.”

I roll my eyes in frustration. “Will I look different?” I wonder.

“Not to the unobservant, but there will be subtle differences.”

I could kick him for not elaborating. It’s like pulling teeth with him sometimes. I would say typical male not to give any details, but there is nothing typical about Reed.

“Painful?” I ask worriedly.

“That’s all relative,” he replies.

“Pain is not subjective,” I say stiltedly.

“Really? How does this feel?” Reed asks as he pinches my upper arm.

“Ouch! That hurt!” I exclaim, pulling my arm away from him and rubbing the abused appendage vigorously.

“You may be in trouble,” he says, and he has the audacity to sound amused.

“You know, I could turn out to be stronger than you. What are you going to do then?” I pout.

He just chuckles at me like I’m joking, or maybe because he’s kind of happy. That seems to be it; he’s happy about my inevitable transformation into a stronger being, a being that would be able to keep up with him…and he’d be the only other being I would know that would be capable of keeping up with me.

“Reed?” I ask.

“Hmm?” he replies.

“If I’m not fully human, and I’m not pure angel, then how am I supposed to know what rules I have to follow? I don’t know any angel laws. I only know some of the human ones, and I’m not even sure about those half the time,” I say.

His brow furls, “I don’t know, Evie. Some of our laws don’t always coincide with the human laws,” he says with a perplexed expression.