Few Are Angels Page 2

  My memory repressor must have been on the fritz, because my parents made their way into my head. I tried to sit up, but winced in pain from my red puffy hands. The pain was welcome. It helped keep my mind off the past.

  Sarah looked at me, her eyes silently urging me to let her in, to talk to her. I didn't know how to respond to the voiceless demand. Should I tell her I was hearing voices and thought fresh air would help? I wasn’t sure it would matter. She had already made up her mind that I wasn’t coping as well as she and the doctor had hoped.

  “It’s okay.” Sarah patted my shoulder and stood. “I’ll get you something warm to drink. Maybe if you hold the warm cup, some of the sensation will return to your hands.” Sarah headed toward the door.

  I worried about what had happened last night, and what she thought had happened. I didn’t want my actions weighing on Sarah, so I knew I had to ease her mind.

  “Sarah.”

  Her eyes were miserable and hollow as she turned to look at me. I hadn’t thought much about her feelings—how sad she must’ve been to see her dead best friend’s daughter broken and depressed in her son’s old bedroom. She must have felt helpless, knowing there was nothing she could do to fix me. Her teary eyes suddenly made sense; it was me she was worried about. I guess all the pretending and faking I’d been doing hadn’t been enough. I had two choices: try harder or leave.

  “I wasn’t trying to, you know, hurt myself or anything. I was just letting Max out. He was scratching at my door, and I couldn’t sleep, so I let him out.” I prayed that she would believe me; no one ever believed me—not since “the breakdown.”

  She smiled, a small sad smile, one I’d seen plenty of times since the funeral. It was the smile that said, “I’m sorry you’re so broken, and I can’t help.” Sarah rested against the door, crossing her arms over her chest. “Okay, but why were you out there for so long?”

  So long? It didn’t seem too long. Though the cold had crept into my bones, numbing my hands and legs completely, it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes. Even that was stretching it. I sat up, wincing at the sharp pain that vibrated throughout my legs. “What? I was only out there for ten minutes or so.” I tried to remember exactly what had happened, but the memory was fuzzy, and it seemed as if certain pieces weren’t there. “I called Max, and he wouldn’t come, so I went to get him.” I tried to see past the fog of last night. Sarah stared at me, and I saw a flash of disappointment on her face, but she quickly recovered. My anger surpassed my confusion. I wanted some answers—if not from my memory, then from Sarah.

  “What, Sarah? How long do you think I was out there?” The question came out angrier than I had intended. She flinched, and I instantly regretted my outburst.

  Sarah started to talk, picking her words cautiously, as if not to upset me further. I didn’t want her to feel as though she needed to fear or baby me, so I decided to listen calmly. “Lea came to my room to say that she heard the front door open. You weren’t in your room, and I thought that you just needed some air. I went back to bed and told Lea not to worry and to let me know when you came back in the house.” Lea was the Carltons’ ten-year-old daughter. She was the only person who didn’t look at me as if I were some fragile piece of china, but that was just because she didn’t know all that had happened to me. Sarah tugged at her shirt, a nervous habit she often displayed. “More than an hour passed, and Lea hadn’t come back, so I got up to check your room and you still weren’t there.”

  “An hour!” I gasped. “There’s no way I was out there that long!”

  Sarah hushed me and told me not to worry. She left to make me some hot tea.

  Maybe my condition was getting worse. I hadn’t been taking the medicine the doctor prescribed. I knew that I had passed out by the shed, and that I’d heard someone call my name right before I had fallen in the snow. I also remembered that Max had red smudges on his nose. The red smudges on Max’s nose were the least of my worries, but I wasn’t looking forward to disposing of a bloody, frozen squirrel.

  I let out a puff of air and resigned myself to lying in bed until I could get up and make a plan. Staying with the Carltons wasn’t working. I had added considerably more stress to their lives, and I’d only been there a week. Sarah, Eric, and Lea were a great family, and I appreciated their help, but we felt like strangers, even though we’d known each other our entire lives. Sarah taught history at Virginia Tech and had taken two weeks off to stay with me to help me get adjusted. She planned to send me to Virginia Tech once I was “better,” and that was fine. I wanted to go back to school, but I wasn’t going back to my old college where the incident had taken place. I was too embarrassed. School was stressful enough; the additional burden was guaranteed to bring back the voice and visions.

  Sarah returned with a steaming cup of tea. The apple-spiced scent hit me before she placed the cup in my hand. After last night, I worried that Sarah would feel the need to take more time off from work. I hoped not. I enjoyed her company, but I was sick of people walking on egg shells around me. She would head back to work soon, and my days would be free from sad smiles and wishful sighs.

  Five hours, four cups of tea, and a nap later, Lea and I sat at the dinner table while Sarah dished out garlic mashed potatoes. My hands and feet were still sore, but better, and my stomach was speaking louder than the fire crackling in the background. Lea looked at me from across the dinner table as if seeing a ghost. I worried that the one person who treated me normally would start to treat me like everyone else did. As Sarah dished out the food, I wondered if I would ever feel normal again.

  “Eric getting in tonight?” I asked. Eric also worked at Virginia Tech. He taught World Literature and Creative Writing.

  Sarah looked at the clock and frowned. “I’m sure he will be here soon.”

  I wanted to thank Eric for bringing me in last night. I had gotten the whole story from Lea about how Eric saw me face-plant into the snow and brought me inside. She also told me I had been staring at the barn as if I could see right through it. I didn't remember any of those details and hoped I wasn’t starting to have blackouts. The somber mood in the room was depressing, and I decided to bring up the one subject that would make Sarah and Lea happy—Alex. It was the end of October, and he would be home soon for Thanksgiving. The oldest Carlton child, Alex had left for college in New York. My family and the Carltons used to go on vacation together every winter. Alex and I would trade secrets by the fireplace when everyone else was asleep or out skiing.

  “When is Alex coming home?” The smile that lit up Lea’s face was proof that I’d moved the conversation in a positive direction. I couldn't help but smile myself. I missed Alex just as much as they did. We had planned to go to the same college, but those plans changed when he was offered a full scholarship to NYU. Lea sat up higher in her chair; her big hazel eyes ignited when I mentioned her older brother. I pushed back the jealousy that slithered into my stomach. My family was gone, but she still had hers and had every reason to be excited about seeing Alex.

  “He’ll be back for Thanksgiving break,” Lea said and then added, “Alex said that he would take me to the lodge when he comes home.”

  Sarah smiled and shook her head. I shoveled food in my mouth and sipped water. When I had sat down, I was starving, but I was full after a couple of bites. I felt a sudden pressure in my head and saw a flash of the barn, which reminded me that I still needed to go out there. I could barely hear the conversation, so I tried harder to focus.

  “Maybe, Lee-Lee. I’m not sure if we’ll be able to go this year,” Sarah said. She snuck a glance at me, and through the fog in my head, I realized that I was the reason those plans were ruined. My face flushed, and I quickly tried to hide it, along with the growing discomfort that snuck its way into my body. Lea’s squeal caused a sharp pain to radiate from my skull to the tip of my spine.

  “C’mon, Mom. Please? I really want to go.” Lea leaned back in her chair and sulked.

  Sarah gave her a look o
f disapproval and continued to eat quietly.

  Lea looked as if someone had kicked her dog, and that someone was me. She bowed her head, obscuring her face with golden waves of hair. I wanted to tell Sarah that they should do everything they’d do if I wasn’t there and not to treat me like an invalid who couldn’t be left alone.

  I pulled my mind back to the conversation, willing my brain to work properly. “I think that’s a good idea. You guys could use the vacation.” Using all of the false excitement that I had allotted for the rest of the night, I smiled and hoped it would be enough.

  Sarah looked up and smiled, but I could see the skepticism on her face. I wondered if she was worried about me or worried about the memories the lodge would bring back. “Maybe,” she whispered.

  Had I known that bringing up Alex would put everyone in a worse mood, I would have just kept my mouth shut. We finished dinner in silence, and I headed upstairs to my room. I lay on the bed and wondered how long it would take for them to start hating me and all my baggage. I was an intrusion in their home and I didn't want to stay and disrupt their lives any longer. Eric was spending a good deal of time away from home so that he wouldn’t have to see me. I was a constant reminder of the best friend he’d lost.

  Eric and my father had met because of the two women they’d married, but they became friends on their own through common interests. Golf was an every-other-weekend event with the two of them when we all lived in Virginia Beach. My mother and Sarah used golf weekends as an excuse for girl time. The memories kept pouring out of the vault in my brain that I’d had spent so much time trying to keep locked up tight. There had to be a way to stop remembering.

  An hour later, I heard Eric’s SUV pull into the garage. I mentally followed his nightly routine as he moved throughout the house, making certain noises in each room he entered. It was the same every night: the front door closing, the footsteps up the stairs to the bathroom, then back down to the kitchen to reheat supper. Sarah usually joined him in his office if she wasn’t helping Lea with homework or putting her to bed. I sat in my room, wishing the past didn't exist.

  Max scratched at the bedroom door, and I got up to let him in. He had the same look on his face as he did the previous night. As much as I wanted to go outside to see what he’d killed, I decided it would be better if Sarah let him out.

  Downstairs, Sarah and Lea were perched together on the couch, watching a TV show on the Disney channel. The animated yellow blob on the screen was yelling at a friend about his ripped pants. Lea and Sarah were mid-laugh when I interrupted them.

  “Sarah, I think Max needs to go out.” I made my way to the other sofa and sat down. Max followed suit, planting himself in front of me. I pulled my feet up and pushed them under me for extra warmth.

  Sarah looked at me, then at Max. I could see the apprehension plastered over her face. She was torn between asking me to take out Max or doing it herself and interrupting mother-daughter time. She might have been worried that she’d have to get Eric to come and find my frozen corpse from the snow.

  “I can do it if you want,” I said. I stood to head upstairs to get dressed in my snow gear.

  When Sarah started to move off the couch, I shooed her and told her I’d be back in a few minutes. Sarah sat back down and continued to watch TV with Lea, who hadn’t paid attention to our conversation and was still laughing at the TV program.

  I rushed up the stairs and dressed as quickly as I could. I worried that if I took long, Sarah would take the dog out herself. If I was going to pull off this “normal” girl routine, I would have to try harder.

  Once Max and I were outside, I made my way toward the shed. The snow crunched beneath my feet, and the noise echoed in my ears and dominated any other sounds. Max was already by the shed, so I picked up the pace to stop him from getting into whatever he had killed the previous night. Once I was around the corner, it was much darker, and my eyes had a hard time adjusting. But my ears worked well enough to hear the noise that came from inside the shed. I suppressed a shiver of fear and turned toward the sound.

  On the other side on the shed, I could see the house in full view. The lights were still on in the living room where Sarah and Lea watched TV. I had to be quick or she would send Eric out to get me. I moved farther behind the shed and got on my tiptoes to look inside one of the two windows that lined the back of the shed. I was five-foot, six-inches tall, but I couldn’t see inside. It didn’t help that frost, dirt, and snow blocked my view. I looked around for something to stand on and heard the noise again.

  I went still and held my breath so that it was completely silent around me. Ssst, ssst. I heard the noise again. It sounded as if something was scooting across the floor inside the shed. I thought about running to the house and telling Eric that there was some sort of creature in his shed. But then I remembered the blood on Max’s muzzle, and I worried about the poor creature that was probably inside, hurt and freezing to death. I looked around, wondering where Max was. I still couldn't see that well behind the shed because the front porch light didn’t reach that far.

  I heard the faint sound of snow crunching beneath what I hoped was Max’s feet behind the winter-frozen bushes to my right. When I looked up, Max’s tail was waving eagerly at me as he sniffed behind the barren bushes. I turned my attention back to the shed and pressed my ear to its frozen side. I couldn’t get in the door because it was locked. The windows were too high and large for me to open on my own, but one was open just enough that I could get my fingers under it to pry it open.

  “What are you doing?” Eric asked.

  I whirled around and nearly stumbled. Eric’s dark gaze and Max’s pale eyes stared back at me with concern. “I thought maybe you needed me to come get you again. I’m glad you didn't. That was scary.”

  I struggled to catch my breath after the shock of Eric’s appearance. I wondered if he was going to tell me I’d been out here for an hour again.

  “What are you looking for in there?” He moved past me to the shed window. As he peeked into the frosted glass, I moved aside to make room.

  I wondered if I should tell him that the last time I was out there with Max I had felt a strange pull to the shed. No, I didn’t even want to admit that to myself, nor did I want to be scrutinized under Eric’s hypnotic stare. I opted for the watered-down version.

  “Last night when I let Max out, I think he injured something, like a bunny or a squirrel.” I pointed at the shed. “I think it got in there.”

  Eric looked at me closely. I could tell he was weighing his options, thinking about what I said.

  I tried to suppress another shudder as a stiff cold breeze struck me in the face and ruffled my hair. We stood there in silence for several long moments. He didn’t look at me as if I were broken. He stared right at me. It felt bizarre to have him look at me and not be able to tell what he was thinking. It disturbed me, and I felt exposed under his stare. Did Eric see the true stranger that I’d become? Did he see that there was no fixing me?

  “Let’s go inside, Ella. It’s late and freezing out here.” He walked toward the house. I followed, but not too close. His silence spoke volumes, and I wondered if he had finally realized that it had been a mistake to invite me to live with his family.

  Chapter 3

  * * *

  Absence diminishes mediocre passions and increases great ones, as the wind extinguishes candles and fans fires. —Francois de la Rochefoucauld

  * * *

  The soil is wet and soft beneath me. It accepts me into its welcoming embrace. The only comfort I will find here is in this damp earth. The screams and silent prayers swarm, burning my ears, and I know that I am being watched. I can feel the diseased vampire’s stare. I shudder, not from fear, but from disgust and shame. I am braver now, braver than I have been in the few days that he’s kept me here in this prison. The knowledge of my death tonight soothes and reassures me that he could never use me again. Villages had been burned to the ground because of me, countries torn apar
t, men captured and tortured. Women and children were without their husbands and fathers because of me and my sight, or my gift as he calls it. It had taken everything from me: my home, my family, even my ability to picture a life without pain and suffering.

  Rats no longer reside here. The sickly sweet stench of death and sorrow is more than they can bear. The smell drifts to my nose, taking residence in the back of my throat. I don’t retch or even try to escape it. I deserve to lay here and wait for my death as many others have—all because of me.

  My true regret was that I couldn’t save Kale; they killed him. I knew it. I could feel it. Why would they let him live? There was nowhere for us to run they couldn't find. I had no understanding of how they could find us, but they could. There was supposedly a bond that kept Laurent and I linked, but I could feel no connection to anyone other than Kale. I try to picture his face, his smooth tan skin, sharp features, and soft lips, but all I can see is how they beat it bloody and swollen. I caused so much pain in the lives of others, but I couldn’t bring myself to end my own. I was a coward, but that would be taken care of for me very soon. In a way, I had taken my own life by pretending I no longer had second sight, that my ability was gone because I was no longer pure. I knew that would result in my death.

  The screams and whispered prayers stop and I know it is because he is here. The Dark Prince, Laurent, had come to take me. I hear his boots as he moves toward my cell and the unmistakable scrape of his left foot, injured in battle long before he was granted immortality. The scent of ash and death follows him, a fingerprint I alone I can decipher.

  “Child, you most know that this is for your own good.” His voice sounds like a hissing snake.

  I once found his accent charming, but now it reminds me of what a naïve child I was to have ever believed a word from his mouth. I’m glad I’m in a cell because it stops him from touching me and turning my skin turn to ice. He disgusts me, and my body will never allow me forget it.