Sword's Blessing (8 page)

Samantha was quiet for a long moment, and finally sighed. “I don’t know. It would take something big. Re-ascension, becoming a greater Damned, certain Inbetweeners have awoken because of past-lives and near-death experiences. But we can’t control any of that.”

Giselle tried to nod, but she was fighting tears, and covered her mouth, trying to stay composed. She had to keep faith in Armand. She had to recall their life together, the love they’d shared…

Samantha reached over to pat her shoulder. “Stranger things have happened. Don’t give up.” She paused. “Besides, now that the question of a full-blooded angel child is out of the way, couldn’t you pursue something? It might help.” She held up her hands as Giselle swung around and gave her a half-horrified look. “Just saying.”

Giselle stood, cold and now numb with fury. Pursue something with this Manas who just happened to
look
like Armand? It wasn’t the same. If anything it was betrayal! She tried to keep her voice even, but her words were heated. “I’ll think about it.” She stalked out.

* * * *

They drove in silence. Armand watched out the window with a satisfied smile, and Giselle contented herself with watching him. When he turned and caught her, he only smiled wider. “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

“What?” she asked. Eli’s head bobbed along to the radio. Samantha napped.

“The countryside here. Look at the vines covering everything. So much green.”

She glanced out, trailing dark greenery of the pine trees and brighter color of the vines. “It’s better than many places we’ve been.”

“Is it?” He tilted his head. Giselle clenched her hand slowly, feeling each muscle contract, each nail in her palm so she did not have to think of her mistake. Of course, he didn’t remember. He took her hand and squeezed gently. “I suppose I never noticed.”

“You don’t remember.”

“No.” Armand’s thumb gently slid over her fingers. “I know you’re right. In my bones.”

She glanced at their hands and then forced her gaze away, back out the window. “You don’t even know my name.”

“I don’t think a name is that important. It can change with very little effort.”

“It’s still important.” She kept her face turned out at the passing trees. How could he say her name wasn’t important!? How dare he?

“Even if I remember your soul?” he asked softly. “I know they are to be trusted,” he nodded to Samantha and Eli, “but you…you are special.”

Giselle swallowed. “Not now,” she whispered, finally glancing up at Eli, who was still nodding as if he had no notion of their conversation. She might have counted him a great friend for the forbearance. “I can’t do this now.”

“All right.” Armand kept her hand. She did not shake it off. “I’ll wait for you.”

* * * *

“Eli, lets pull off before we get to the city highways. No telling what traffic’ll be like, might as well get food and gas before then.”

“And directions, as I’ve heard it, it’s easy to get lost down by the stadium.”

“This is why you drive, and not me,” Samantha turned to Giselle and Armand. “I don’t think we’re crossing the river so it might be okay, but neither of us has been here.”

“Neither have we,” Giselle said. “As I hear it Bourbon Street is…distasteful.”

“Mother says it’s the best mix of ancient gluttony and modern sensibilities,” Samantha beamed. “I can’t wait.”

Eli snorted as he pulled off into a gas station complex on their side of the divided highway. “Your mother has the strangest sense of humor. We’ll go to the oracle first. She might be able to find us a better room. Do you know where her shop is?”

“Something like half-way down the street,” She glanced back again, gaze trailing over where Giselle and Armand were still holding hands. Giselle swallowed. Would she say anything? Thankfully she didn’t, glancing back at their faces. “How about we take half an hour to do whatever and then meet back at the car?”

Armand smiled peaceably. “Sounds great.” he said, and glanced at Giselle. “I feel like a walk anyway.”

Giselle caught her breath as his gaze stayed on her, but she could not meet his eyes, and let them trail back to their intertwined fingers. Why would he tease her like this? He knew–he must know–how it hurt her he remembered nothing. Looking at him was like staring at a black hole. She knew something beautiful and wonderful had been there before, but now it was just a gaping, sucking nothingness. Worse than a simple loss. Loss would have meant she could grieve and move on. Loss meant she could work on forgetting his face. Loss meant she didn’t throw away the blessings of her sword. Loss meant he was gone.

This was looking at his face and knowing he wasn’t there. This was him saying the wrong name when he looked at her. This was the same hand holding hers, the same eyes looking on her face, but lacking the recognition of everything they had been through. It was love. It was familiarity, but something… something wasn’t right! It wasn’t all of him.

The door slammed, and Giselle started, realizing Samantha and Eli had exited the car. She glanced at Armand. He smiled, and her heart seized. How could she had longed for his loss, or categorized it as better than this. She was divine. She was an Angel! If anyone should have faith in love it should be her. “Armand…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He squeezed her hand and nodded, then slipped out of the car. Giselle pressed her hand to her lips, keeping herself from crying out. She’d practically wished for him to die. How could she?

The door on her side opened, and Armand held out his hand. “Come on, Ada. Let’s take a walk.”

At first, she couldn’t bring herself to take his hand, not because she didn’t want it, but because she wanted it badly. He waited so sweetly though, that soon it seemed a greater insult not to accept his hand than to touch him when she had recently thought of his death. He pulled her up, shut the door, and finally slid his hand around her waist. She couldn’t speak, still caught up in guilt.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He touched his forehead to her hair, nuzzling as he had done for years. Her heart surged with mixed anguish and joy. He was so close and yet so far away.

“I–” She choked, cleared her throat, and tried again. “I just–” She tamped down tears and looked away. This was too much. What if she’d lost him forever? “I don’t know who you are.”

“It’s okay.” Armand smiled. “I don’t either.”

“How can you be calm about it?” Giselle asked. “You don’t remember anything and yet you don’t worry? You don’t fear?”

“Now, I didn’t say that.”

Armand pulled her closer as they ambled down the frontage road. Cars zipped by without pause or thought, and Giselle almost wished to dive into one. She couldn’t see an end to this discomfort, this awkwardness. Unconsciously, she leaned into him, shivering.

He rubbed his hand along her arm. “I worry about you. You’re still having trouble with the cold, and it must be ninety degrees. I worry about that look on your face like you’ve witnessed the world end. I fear you’ll regret staying with me.” He kicked a stone. “I fear you’ll leave.”

“You don’t even know my name.” She blinked away tears. “It isn’t Ada any more.”

“Isn’t it?” He paused, reached over and wiped her cheek. “When did we get new names?”

“When Gabriel blessed us,” she said. “After we died.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded and drew her close, arms wrapping around her back and just under the base of her wings. “I see. I suppose, technically, you are still Giselle, since you still have the wings.”

“I suppose.”

“But I’m Manas.” He brushed back a curl, smiling. “Is it a terrible a name?”

“No!” Giselle grabbed for his hand, shivering. “I just…I just remember vividly…”

He tilted his head, and finally nodded. “Was it cold, then?”

“I…I think one of my toes fell off.” She bowed her head. “We’d been running for so long when the Damned came for us.”

“But they didn’t get us. We escaped?”

“Yes.” She clung to him. He smelled similar to how he always had. Myrrh and olives. Suddenly she recalled what Samantha had suggested. She swallowed. No. He didn’t know her. Not really. She started to explain their ascension again, describe it to see if he recalled anything, but a laugh stopped them both in their tracks.

“Oh goody. I found you.”

Giselle jumped, Armand frowning as he looked around her shoulder.

“A Damned,” he squeezed her hand. “That’s what they’re called, right?”

Giselle turned and looked. Behind them was a lithe youth, jittering with energy, with the stark white skin and jet black horns of a Damned. She frowned. How had it found them?

The Damned answered her question before she could voice it. “I mean, he said you’d be here, but I never expected to actually find you! I thought he was pulling my chain.” He cackled, jumping from foot to foot. “Oh man, this is gonna be awesome! I’ve heard Angels give a huge rush when you rip out their throats.”

Snarling, Giselle pushed Armand behind her and drew her sword. “First you’ve got to beat them,” she said.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” the Damned said, his hands trembling. “Let’s go!”

Giselle let the Damned make the first charge. It was always better to get a handle on one’s opponent. As she spread out her wings in preparation to take off and avoid his initial attack, she realized Armand had no way to get out of the way. That was fine. “Hold on.” She sheathed the sword and grabbed him around the waist.

The Damned was faster than she’d anticipated. If she recalled her training correctly, they started out fast and vicious, like Savannah cats, and slowly grew in power and prestige until they found themselves at the lion’s helm. She was prepared, and popped a squat before launching up. Manas whooped.

The Damned headed for a wall, and leapt up, cackling. Giselle lofted higher, still holding Armand in front of her, sword at her hip.

“Giselle.” Armand gasped. The Damned was running
up
the wall, propelling himself up the drywall of the building using his claws and strength. As she glanced, he planted four limbs and sprung out, facing them thirty feet in the air.

“See? I can fly too!”

Her wings were made for strength, not agility, and for a sinking moment, Giselle was certain he would land the attack. Armand folded up his legs, arms bracing on hers, and kicked both feet out straight into the Damned’s face. He careened back and slammed into the ground.

Giselle let out a breath. “Thanks, can I put you on the roof?”

“Just watch the wall,” he said with a grin. “You’ve got this, love.”

She blinked, but didn’t let the expression shake her focus, and set him gently on the roof, then drew her sword. “Damned, I hereby release you of your debt to hell, and free the souls within–”

“Shut up and fight!” the Damned screamed, and charged the wall again. Giselle set her sword, determined to defend her post and end the battle.

Before the Damned could make it even five feet off the ground, a whip of fire wrapped around his ankle and tugged him to the ground. He fell, screaming. “What the fuck?”

“Looks like you got a whelp nipping at your wings, Giselle,” Eli said, striding behind Samantha with the origin of the fire in his right hand. “Mind if we take a look?”

Giselle frowned. “I had it.”

“We know,” Samantha said, waving. The Damned was bound and gagged with a soft yellow glow. “We’re wondering how he found us. Sheer luck is fine. Someone knowing where we’re headed, not so much.”

Giselle frowned, glancing up to be sure Armand was all right. He waved. She waved back. While the Damned was still around, she wasn’t taking chances, and left him there as she spoke to Eli. “He said ‘he told me you would be here’. You’re right, we might have a problem.” She took a few steps backward, letting Samantha work. She sure didn’t want to be caught in any strange soul manipulation. She moved back again, out of sight of Eli and Samantha, just to be sure. A pair of arms clamped around her wings and mouth. With hardly a moment to fear the marble pale arms, power overwhelmed her, and Giselle passed out.

* * * *

“Shit.” Eli growled. There weren’t many people who could direct a Damned, much less find them. “He who?”

“I’ll never tell!” The Damned cried out, and then began to snicker.

Eli rolled his eyes. Young Damned were worse than teenagers.