Conduit (8 page)

“It doesn’t seem to matter where I
am, does it?” Lev snapped. 

“That’s what you think?  And what
happens if the
dybbuks
suddenly appear here?  I’m willing to bet you
aren’t even carrying your weapon.”

Evan stepped forward.
“
We’re
not alone. We should get inside.”  He slipped his arm around Lev to guide him
back to the house.

“Did you deliver my request?” 

“Yes,” Evan said softly.

“And?”

Evan’s bowed his head.  “The answer
was no.”

“Of course it was.  Why am I not
surprised?”  He tried to jerk free, but Evan refused to let go.

“Okay, so this isn’t what you wanted
to hear.  Still, it’s not the end of things, Lev.  At one point, you wanted
more than anything to be human.” 

“Yeah, that was when I had a reason
to be human.  That reason is now missing, and all I am to her like this is dead
weight.  I can’t save her. I can’t even save myself, so what’s the point?”  He
glared at Evan, open hostility on his face.

“Maybe that’s what you have to figure
out.  There’s a reason for everything, remember?”

This time Lev did jerk away.  “Yeah,
so maybe there is a reason for taking away the human who changed me from an
angel who didn’t care about humans to one who realized what compassion was. 
Maybe there was a reason for that, but you know what?  I don’t care.”

Lev charged forward, back to the
house, knowing Evan would just follow him.  He just couldn’t fathom why.  After
all, he’d become a huge liability to his family, and while they might not admit
it, keeping quiet wouldn’t change the truth.

“You can’t just go running off like
this anymore, Lev,” Evan called. 

“Why not?” Lev growled back, whirling. 
“With any luck, maybe I’ll save everyone a whole lot of grief and get myself killed. 
Wouldn’t that simplify everything?”

Evan rushed to him and grabbed his
shoulder.  “Don’t even think that,” he hissed.  “Don’t make me shadow your every
move.  All that will do is slow down any efforts I could put into finding
Elizabeth, and that’s not something we want.  Time isn’t on her side.  We need
to find her now, not later.  So don’t give me a babysitting detail and think I
can’t follow through on it.”

The two glared at one another, and
while Lev thought he could stare his father down, he saw the anger and hurt in
those blue eyes and suddenly felt a fresh wave of shame wash over him.  Evan
wasn’t making a promise he couldn’t keep.  He would protect Lev at any cost,
even that of Elizabeth’s life, which was a price Lev could never afford,
regardless of how stupid he might presently be.

“I’m sorry.” He hung his head.  “I
never thought it would be like this.  I expected when I became human my
supernatural days would be over.”

“I know that.  We all did, but when
you became human, none of us knew how things would change.  “I’ve never met an
angel who had taken human form permanently, and I’ve been around much longer
than you.  But I still have faith there is a reason for all of this, and you
can’t let your human emotions get the best of you.  You have to keep faith in
spite of how dark things seem.”

“I know.”  Lev looked at the sky in
time to see a shooting star, and in that moment he made a blind wish.

In silence they made their way to the
house, side by side.  Lev couldn’t help but see that Evan was constantly
looking at the sky, searching for
dybbuks
, yet nothing seemed out of the
ordinary to Lev unless he counted the gaping hole in his heart.

Chapter Eight

The next day, Lev found himself in a
small cemetery just inside the city limits.  Normally, it would have taken
longer for planning the service and all, but as time was of the essence, Evan had
used his powers to persuade the funeral home to work more quickly and the
investigating officers to let things go.  Evan rarely did that—manipulated
humans that way—but considering they needed to find Elizabeth as soon as
possible, he hadn’t had much choice.

In silence, Lev waited for a preacher
to complete the last leg of Jimmie's human journey.  Naturally, it was a rainy
day, cold in the sudden bluster of the storm which so unexpectedly rolled
through.  Mud caked his dress shoes, and he felt stupid in this getup--like he presenting
himself at some formal dance, not this horrible place.

While Lev had attended other
funerals, this was his first human experience with such things, and he found he
hated every moment of it.  Although he'd known much about humans before he'd
ever been one, the thing he could never have prepared himself for was the way
the physical form itself seemed to be in constant conflict with the spiritual
one, making it much harder just to keep his faith in the things he, as a former
angel, knew to be valid and true.  As such, it should not have been such a
struggle to accept Jimmie's passing, but he was no longer an angel capable of
grasping the infinite nature of the soul, just a human struggling with the
mortality of the flesh.

The empty feeling of the cemetery
graveside service only made Lev feel that much worse.  He now wrestled with a
dozen demons.  His whole body stiffened under the imaginary wings pressing down
on him.

Even though a waterproof awning
sheltered them from the downpour, Lev still felt rain blow in from the sides,
soaking into the white button-down shirt he wore.  Perhaps he should've kept
the jacket on, but it had felt so confining.  As an angel, he'd never paid much
mind to how tight human skin felt because he'd always known it would only be
temporary.  It had always just been a disguise, not whom he’d really been...until
the day he'd woken in the hospital and found out what had been temporary had suddenly
become permanent.

Since then, he'd become far more
selective about what he wore because he felt he couldn't breathe in certain
clothes, and days like today, he'd rather feel the rain rushing in at him.

Evan stood to one side of him and
Celia on the other, with Griffin standing close to her.  Since the sparring
incident, Griffin head been wary of him, and Lev couldn't blame him.  Just
another of Lev’s failings as a human. 

"Where's the preacher?" Lev
asked, scanning the grounds, which wasn’t easy considering the endless
rainfall.  He squinted, struggling to make out anything through the sheet of
rain.  Lightning arched across the sky—a violent, jagged lance of searing light—and
the thunder boomed around them.

"On his way, I'm sure,"
Evan replied calmly.  "The storm may be causing traffic delays."

Griffin shook his head.  Although he,
too, preferred much more casual clothing, considering the jeans and t-shirts he
usually wore, the black suit, obviously expensive, fitted him well.

“Lizzie
should be here,” Griffin muttered, his gaze alighting on the coffin.  “It’s
going to kill her when she finds out Jimmie’s gone.  She never got to say
goodbye.”

Celia
grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.  “No one feels worse about her not
being here for this than Lev does.”

“Yeah,
right,” Griffin scoffed.  He might have said more, but the sudden appearance of
the preacher, suited in a heavy black raincoat, silenced him.

Part
of Lev wanted to make some comment about how stupid it was that Griffin could
be sarcastic in front of angels but not a man of God--it seriously made no
sense—but Lev knew it wasn’t worth it.  As such, the silence continued as the
preacher—a man in his fifties with grey hair and blue eyes—tried to shake the
water off.  Taking them all in, he offered a solemn nod.

“Will
there be others attending?” he asked in a parched, cracked voice.

Evan
stepped forward, taking it upon himself to speak for the group.  “No, Reverend,
this is all.  We are a very tight-knit and private group.”

“I
see. Very well then.  Let’s get started before the storm gets worse.”

Evan
looked at the sky again, and Lev couldn’t help but feel that he saw more than
the rain.  Were there
dybbuks
hovering close at hand to finish the
damage they had already done?  If Lev were still an angel, he’d be able to tell
but not like this.

            The
preacher pulled a Bible from where he’d tucked it inside his jacket, and taking
a deep breath Lev listened to the preacher praise a man he’d never known,
probably using words Evan had provided him.  The sentiments about Jimmie were
true.  That was one way Lev understood where the words had come from, and, like
Griffin, he wished Elizabeth were here to say goodbye to the man who had, for
all intents and purposes, been her father.

Although
Lev tried to focus on the words, they all slurred together like the endless
rain, and all he could really think about was Elizabeth, wondering where she was
and hoping she was safe.

As
the preacher read from his Bible, Lev stared into the open grave.  He wondered
what he would say when she finally came back and asked about Jimmie.  Then
again, part of him wondered if they would get her back at all.  He wanted to
believe it would happen, that a miracle would occur and they’d come to know how
to save her, but so many mistakes had been made, and so many more to be made. 
The question was, when would they stop? Would they?

While
staring at the grave, Lev thought he saw the lid moving, almost as though it
were being pushed to the side—something which definitely shouldn’t have been
possible considering it had hinges keeping it in place.  It wasn’t built to
open like that, yet there it was, the lid sliding askew right in front of him
to reveal the casket’s lined interior.  Lev’s eyes widened as he saw not
Jimmie’s body but Elizabeth’s.

He
sucked in air, reeling at what he saw. It wasn’t possible.  It couldn’t be.

“Lev,
is something wrong?” Celia asked. 

Although
he opened his mouth to answer, nothing came out because her eyelids slowly
fluttered open, and her eyes immediately found his.

“Please
don’t let me die,” she moaned.  He shouldn’t have been able to hear her over
the preacher and the rain, but he did.  In fact, her voice was all he could
hear save the violent beating of his heart.

“Elizabeth?” 
Her name came out a soft, desperate breath.  He blinked, trying to drive away
what was right in front of him, but it refused to leave.  Part of him knew she
wasn’t there, but that didn’t convince the rest of him.

Evan
turned to him, trying to gauge what was going on and how serious it was.  
“What’s going on?” he whispered, leaning close.

Although
he heard Evan, Lev ignored him and kept staring.  He felt sweat beading on his
forehead, and he shivered from a chill that had nothing to do with the cold. He
felt each breath become more labored until he could scarcely breathe at all and
the world around him tilted, taking on a surreal amusement park feel he
couldn’t shake.  What was happening to him?

Lev
felt everyone staring at him, even the preacher, who had suddenly ceased speaking,
shaking his head slightly and no doubt trying to puzzle out what was going on.

“Is
there a problem?” the preacher asked, his voice now soft and soothing as though
it alone might help deal with the crisis which perhaps he felt was imminent,
waiting to calm Lev if needed.  He lowered his Bible, one hand resting on the
inside of the open pages.

“Lev?”
Celia whispered.  “You have to snap out of this.”

Her
words might have been able to get through to him had Elizabeth’s eyes not been
so plaintive—so pleading—and, at the same time, so accusing.

“I
have to get to Elizabeth.” 

“Elizabeth?”
the preacher repeated, confused.

“That’s
a friend we’ve recently lost as well.  He’s not over her,” Griffin offered, his
voice heavy with forced neutrality as he refused to look at Lev.

“She
isn’t here, Lev,” Evan said, his voice slow and deliberate.  He tried to make
his son look at him, but couldn’t.