Conduit (19 page)

            “Where…are we?” she
asked, her voice suddenly soft and shy as she glanced around.  “I don’t
remember any of this.”

            “Miles from where the
dybbuks
held you captive, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

            She slowly sat up, all
the while carefully avoiding Lev’s gaze.  He reached out to help her up, but she
ignored him, which wasn’t like Elizabeth.  She could be as furious as a tornado
ripping through a town and she’d never not acknowledge him. 

            “You might want to take
it easy.  You’ve been unconscious for a while,” Lev offered, frowning as he
hovered close, just in case.

            “I’ll be fine,” she
argued.

           
Now that does sound
like the old Elizabeth,
Lev told himself, allowing a surge of hope to flood
through him.  Of course that didn’t make him feel much better as she stood,
seemingly without any problems, something he didn’t understand.  Shouldn’t her
body have been less forgiving, considering what she’d been through? 

            As he struggled to get
his feet beneath him, he felt muscles he didn’t even realize he had.  Everything
ached.

            He licked his lips,
wondering if he should call for his father.  Evan would definitely want to know
Elizabeth was awake, but Lev wasn’t sure he was ready to share her, not until
he’d figured out what exactly was going on and made some kind of sense from it.

            “Elizabeth, what’s the last
thing you remember?”

            She blinked and cocked
her head to one side—a very Elizabeth thing to do when she wanted to remember
something specific, and he wondered what she would say.  How much had the
dybbuks
erased, and could those memories ever be regained?

            “I was with you at the
house.”  She pushed a strand of hair from her eyes.  “We were watching a
movie.  Then everything just sort of goes black.”  Swallowing hard, she risked
a direct look at his face, and in that moment, he saw something in her eyes
that disturbed him.  Normally there was an expressiveness to her that she
couldn’t hide.  No, he might not be able to tell exactly what she was thinking,
but he would sense all the emotions cartwheeling through her.  

            But these eyes seemed
different-devoid of that—and what seemed worse was that he’d always recognized
himself when he’d stared into those eyes. Suddenly, though, even that was
changed.  She was different, and he didn’t yet know the parameters of this new
identity and what it meant to Elizabeth, only that it lacked the warmth which
had always been there.

            He swallowed hard,
knowing he should’ve been comforted by the fact that her memory still seemed
intact but knowing that didn’t change the fact that something was still very
wrong.  Once again, he felt helpless and more than a bit foolish.

            “I don’t understand what
you mean by
dybbuks
.  What are they?” Elizabeth asked, her gaze
furtively shooting around.  What was she looking for, and why wasn’t it him?  She
seemed to simply tolerated his presence when once she would’ve collapsed into
his arms.  Besides, she seemed more panicked than previously.

            “The creatures that took
you from me.”  Unable to stand the distance anymore, Lev stepped into her path,
stopping her.  He would’ve settled his hands on her shoulders—a gesture meant
to calm her when little else worked—but she suddenly jerked back, almost as
though she expected him to strike her.

            The motion was so out of place
and character that Lev found himself at a loss, trying to understand what had
caused such a reaction.  He’d never so much as touched her out of anger, and he
never would, so where was
this
coming from?  And why now?

            What exactly had the
dybbuks
done
to her?

            “I’m sorry,” he said,
fumbling the words.  When had he lost the power of speaking fluently, he
wondered.  “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

            Instead of acknowledging
his apology, she stepped back, again averting her eyes.

            “I just don’t want to be
touched.”  She swallowed hard, her body stilling.  She waited for him to make
the next move.  Suddenly he felt he was in the middle of a dance and didn’t know
what the next step was supposed to be. Part of him wondered if it really was
that she didn’t long to be touched or if it possibly had to do with the fact
that she didn’t want
him
to touch her.  Perhaps the thought was crazy,
but she wasn’t acting even remotely close to the person he’d expected to find
on waking, and until he knew what was driving those changes, all bets were off.

            “It’s just that I’m
really glad to see you.  You gave me quite a scare.”  He shoved his hands into
his pockets just to give them something to do.

            “Can you take me home?”
she whispered, her body trembling.  He’d have to be blind to think she was
well.  She might be standing and talking coherently, but that didn’t mean
anything.

            “I don’t think that’s a
good idea.  The
dybbuks
will be looking for you.”

            She sucked air in with a
hiss and shook her head.  “Of course they will.  Because of you and the connection
that binds us.”  Tears pricked her eyes and deepened her voice.

            “Calm, down, Elizabeth,”
he tried to keep his voice even while reflecting on what she’d just said, but
his heart was racing.  He found himself reaching for her, and as his hand
collided with hers, she jerked away.

            “I don’t want to be
calm.  I want my life back—the life I had before you and all the other angels,
the life I had with Jimmie and some kind of normal that I’ll never have again
because you ruined it.  It’s your fault!” 

            She narrowed her eyes
disapprovingly at him, leaving him grappling with the storm of words she’d just
hurled at him.  She might as well have used knives.  The blood wasn’t
invisible, but it was there.

            Lev wanted to say
something, but words failed him as she took off running.  He knew he should try
to catch her, but his feet wouldn’t move.  He was doing well just to keep
breathing.

            Tears blurred his vision,
but even so he could clearly make out her form as she vanished from sight
behind trees, leaving him bearing the weight of love—a weight he’d hadn’t asked
for and now couldn’t struggle from beneath.

            He was no longer an
angel, and no longer loved—no longer Elizabeth’s.  What purpose did he serve
now?

            As the blood thundered in
Lev’s temples, he felt his shoulders cave and the beat of his heart speed up
until he couldn’t stand its thrumming anymore.  He had to find something to
drown it out.

            Knowing she wasn’t going
to come back, he broke into a run.  He didn’t know where he was going, and he
really didn’t care.  He just had to get out of where he was before Evan and the
others got up to tell him, “I told you so.”

            He didn’t think about the
danger facing him or Elizabeth.  In his fragmented mind, he somehow felt that
the damage inflicted was far worse than anything else they could do, so why
worry about it?  Time had already destroyed something he felt had been
unbreakable.  What else could it shatter?

            Running was as close to
flying as he could ever get again, so he pushed his body as fast as he could,
avoiding running along the highway because he knew the others would try to find
him.  Only Evan would take the path leading away from easy tracking; then
again, there probably wasn’t a place Lev could go where Evan couldn’t find him
if he suddenly went on a manhunt for him. Most mortals thought they had it bad
with fathers who saw and knew everything, but those teens didn’t have a clue
how bad it could be living with someone who really did see and know everything—or
pretty much everything, or at least a whole lot more than mortal dads did.

            Despite Lev’s aching body,
he kept running, ignoring the way the tall grass tangled about his calves. It
was only when he found himself faced with a deep, narrow gorge that he
stopped.  Lev bent low, struggling to catch his breath, aching from everything
he’d been through the last few days.  Part of him wanted to fall down, but he
knew if he did that, he might never get up, and that wasn’t an option.  He had
to keep going because going back simply wasn’t possible, not now.

            Sweat dripped down his
face, and he used the back of his hand to try to wipe it away, not that it
helped.  His shirt stuck to him like a second layer of skin.  He didn’t expect the
tears which came mingled with it.   

            As an angel, Lev had
experienced many emotions, but he wasn’t prepared for how much more intense
they suddenly became when he was human, and this gut-wrenching sadness was no
exception.  It clawed at his very being where the bond with Elizabeth had once
been.  It was still there and always would be.

            Not knowing what else to
do, Lev took a deep breath and finally took a good look at the massive opening
in the earth before him.  Surprisingly, no guardrails stood sentry around the
rim of the gorge to protect the innocent or stupid from falling into it, and at
a depth of approximately a fourth of a mile, such falling would hardly be a
good thing.

            Lev didn’t know why, but
at that moment, he looked up and mentally asked why—why let him become human
after all this if things were going to ultimately end up as they had?  Why push
so hard for him to learn to love humans if this were the end result?  And why
let him feel so helpless and useless when everything came down?

            He thrust his arms wide,
grappling for understanding, something to combat this pain.  Tears streamed
down his face as he watched clouds overtake the sky in a slow, rolling motion. 
Then, even as he still stared skyward, it began to sprinkle—just a few drops at
first, but then the heavens opened up, pummeling him with hard, driving rain.

            The rawness in Lev’s
heart would not be denied.  Lev slowly lowered his arms and gazed down into the
abyss, the bottom of which was no longer visible.  At one time, Lev could’ve soared
across; now, the most he’d ever be able to manage was a single, meager leap.

            “So be it.” He stepped
off the edge.