Covenant (13 page)

For a moment, we just look
at each other, and the world is filled with the awkward silence
flourishing between us. She waits for me to speak, but I’m not sure
what she wants me to say or even if I want to speak at
all.

When I don’t, she finally
steps toward me. “Theresa sent me to give you a
message.”

“
You always cut right to
it,” I say. “That’s one thing I like about you, Jayzee.”

She laughs loudly. “You
think you like me? Right. You have lost your mind? We don’t have a
great history together, you realize that right.”

“
I guess I’ll have to take
your word.” I slowly sink to the ground, staring at the nothingness
just ahead of me. “What’s the message.”

Jayzee steps toward me.
“Theresa seems to think she’s figured out how to break the warding
Evan has set up so your memory will be free.”

“
How?” I ask, for the first
time meeting her gaze head-on.

“
I don’t know. I didn’t
ask.” She peers out into the gathering darkness like she would
definitely rather be flying through it than standing here, talking
to me.

“
Okay.” I realize she’s got
a good point about not asking. After all, it’s never really wise to
ask a question you don’t want the answer to; you just might get it.
“What do I need to do?”

“
Show up at our place
around midnight and she’ll get your memory back, just like you
wanted.” She turns to leave, but I stand and quickly catch her by
the arm.

“
So what’s the catch,
Jayzee?” There is an edge to my voice, but even that doesn’t seem
to bother her.

She glares down at my hand .
“What catch? I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“
Why would you help do this
when you can’t stand me?”

She jerks free.
“
I
didn’t help
you, Lev. That’s Theresa. I’m just the messenger, nothing more. So
you don’t have to worry about owing me one or any other stupid
thought. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t even be having this
conversation.” She exhales loudly in relief. “And remember,
midnight. Don’t be late, or the deal is off.”

She dives into the ocean
below, her body diving into the nothingness spread below,
disappearing amid the darkness.

What are you doing,
Lev?
I ask myself, wondering if I should
be trusting someone who is connected to Jayzee when it’s obvious
she’s one angry angel with a definite grudge. Then again, what
choice to I have in any of this except to sit back and trust Evan.
Somehow I just don’t believe that.

Chapter Ten

Moonlight pours into
Elizabeth’s bedroom when I slip inside. It’s about eleven, and
she’s already lying there, her gaze tilted toward the ceiling. Her
body lies so still that except for the blinking and chaos I feel
swirling within her, I’d wonder if she were even conscious. One arm
lies snuggled under her blue-and-white comforter. The other rests
atop, and every so often I see her fingers twitch.

Part of me wonders if she
can feel me in this room like I can feel her. I can’t explain the
connection. It’s almost supernatural and something that almost
seems like I’ve had with other angels. I’d like to say I’ve never
experienced it with a human before, but since I don’t have my
memory, that’s definitely making a leap of faith. I can’t begin to
tell anyone what I’ve experience.

I glance at the clock above
Elizabeth’s bed and think,
Well, that’s
about to change. No more secrets about what my life has been like
and what role Elizabeth has played in it.

Elizabeth abruptly rises and
flips on the small table lamp next to her bed. Although the bulb
isn’t much, it is enough so that if my concentration isn’t strong
enough, the blending won’t take, and Elizabeth will see me, which,
until I know exactly what has transpired, isn’t the best course of
action. I focus harder, determined not to be seen.

For a second, Elizabeth
peers around the room, searching. Her nostrils flare slightly and
she seems to latch onto me with her gaze. Our eyes lock, and I
wait, wondering whether I have been able to do enough to conceal my
presence or if she senses me just as I sense her in a way there is
no blocking.

I’m pretty much convinced
I’ve failed at blocking just as effectively as I’ve failed at
sojourning when Elizabeth finally turns to a small notebook and pen
beside her. She flips the spiral open and starts writing. Relieved
she can’t see me, I edge to the bed to I can read the words she
inks on to the page in a beautiful, painful script. Her long hair
cascades over her shoulder toward the page, and I have to decipher
through it to read all the words.

No one understands this.
Not Jimmie. Not Griffin. No one. They think Lev has died, and yet
he was never human to begin with. This isn’t grief, not like what
they believe. It’s a different kind of loss, and it eats at me
every waking moment. I’ll never be able to do this without him.
Never. I thought after…he’d come back to me, but the days have
turned into weeks and the weeks into months, and he’s still gone.
Doesn’t he want to be with me? Has he forgotten the moments we
shared? I hate the emptiness that has become my life, and it all
hurts too much. Perhaps I should have taken the bullet and let him
carry my soul away. Then it wouldn’t be like this.

Tears stream down her face
and I gasp, jarred by the words. They should not be there. They
should be different, not words of death and pain, specifically pain
that has something to do with me.

Had I fallen in love with a
human?

That concept staggers me,
and I stand, trying to adjust to a thought that doesn’t make sense
to me. Then again, neither does the connection between
us.

The spiral and pen drop from
her hand, and she draws her knees to her chest as the sobs rack her
body. The sound of grief is buried deep, and even though I know I
shouldn’t, I can’t seem to stop myself from drifting back to her
side and setting my hand on her shoulder. I want to comfort her,
but I don’t know how, and I still am trying to figure out how all
this happened. How could I have fallen in love with a spirit I was
meant to carry? How?

“
Lev?” Her voice trembles,
and I shoot off the bed, aware that perhaps I have not been as
guarded about my blending as I should have. Still, she has not seen
me since I entered, so why would she know I was here
now?

Because it matters to
her.

“
Lev?” Her tone is more
desperate, and that’s when I realize she probably hasn’t sensed
anything. It’s just something that she wants so badly she can’t
help but hope for it.

I stare at her tear-streaked
face, and I feel enough pain for us both. Seeing her like this
makes me wish I had all the answers she wants, but I don’t even
have my own answers, let alone hers. My memory is a colander—all
the details have fallen through the holes Evan set in place, which
I guess is easy enough for him. He doesn’t have to look into
Elizabeth’s eyes and know he has failed somehow. No, that’s my
job.

“
You weren’t supposed to
die, Lev. That bullet was meant for me, and now all I can do is
think about all the ways I miss you. I’ll never be whole again, and
it doesn’t even matter. Nothing matters without you.”

Her gaze turns glassy-eyed,
and she lies back down, turns onto her side, and flips off the
light even though her spiral still lies where it has fallen open on
the bed, the pen resting atop the paper.

I stand in the shadows and
watch stillness collect on her as grief runs its course, and it’s
only when she’s finally stopped crying and her glassy eyes are
blinking for longer and longer periods. I look at the clock. I know
I should head off to find Theresa and get my memory back, but I am
unwilling to leave, at least until I know Elizabeth has finally
found the bliss of unconsciousness and has slipped into its dark
stream. Moonlight shines on the long hair that splays around her
head in wild tendrils. Even though her eyes are getting heavy, I
can tell she is fighting sleep, unwilling to submit to the night
and dreams she can’t control.

The chaos swirls around her,
and I feel the beacon rising within her, the one that does seem to
want a sojourner, and that thought sends a panic through me. I have
to find a way to ease this brokenness, especially until I can
remember what happened between us—I realize I have only one
choice.

I walk back to her and kneel
where she lies so our faces are only inches apart. I reach out and
gently set my hand on her chest just under her throat. The minute
my hand touches her, she jumps as though she feels the contact, but
she doesn’t react in any other way, which is really a good thing. I
jump, too, but that’s only because I feel both the connection we
have and the raging turmoil inside her. At that moment, I realize
how good a thing it is I am doing this. She’ll never be able to get
control of her emotions alone. They are wild and frightening to
her, and they have taken her to depths she’s never anticipated
falling into. She needs my help to guide her through this moment of
darkness, and while I typically don’t take the guardian role, I’ll
do it tonight in a heartbeat if it will ease the pain blossoming
inside of her.

“
All is well,” I whisper,
more for her than me. “Rest.” I focus on quieting the chaos within
her and absorbing some of the pain she can’t shed. It only takes a
few seconds, and then I see that her eyes have indeed grown heavy
and she is drifting toward the blue-black jet of unconsciousness. I
can only hope that since I have eased some of her anguish her
dreams will be kind. It’s the least I can do since it would seem so
much of her pain stems from something I did or did not
do.

I wait until her eyes have
finally closed and she is still and peaceful before I lift my hand
and stroke her cheek. Perhaps it’s unwise to touch her, considering
the connection between us, but I just can’t seem to help myself.
Even though I don’t remember, my thoughts are still cluttered with
images of her, and each time I see her that pain grows.

Her breath stutters. She
seems to know I am here, watching over her, and for the thousandth
time, I wonder what my actions have done to her and what they have
done to me. The sensation of stroking her skin seems to calm the
chaos roiling within me, and somehow this human brings me peace.
Such a strange reversal.

One last glance at the clock
reveals my time is short, and despite the pleasure I derive from
taking Elizabeth’s company, I force myself to stand and slip into
the night, focusing on finding my way back to Theresa’s
house.

The world has dwindled to
stars and moonlight, and I let myself bask in the warmth instead of
completely shielding myself from it, and once I finally drop off
into Theresa’s back yard, a sheen of sweat covers my being and
soaks into my shirt. Touching down in the backyard, I see lights
blazing through the sliding glass doors, and I walk to them. The
same assortment of angels seems to be present as I slide open the
door. Theresa stands next to Colin, talking in low tones, while
Jayzee and Sarah sit next to each other, both of them staring off
into space with bored transfixed expressions. Bob and Kane stand in
the kitchen, both of them holding glasses. It appears a
normal-enough scene; no one would ever suspect any of them of being
angels. Then again, we are taught to blend very early because
humans aren’t supposed to recognize our presence, and while there
are a lot of reasons for having duties switched, revelations can be
one of the biggies. Then again, that could be another reason Evan
bleached my memory—perhaps I had revealed too much to Elizabeth.
Even so, just taking my memories out of the equation wouldn’t solve
the problem, would it?

Steeling myself, I step
inside and try not to stiffen as all of them, and I do mean all,
turn toward me. The wall clock says I’m about five minutes early,
so I know they must have been expecting me, but I’m not sure why
they keep staring at me as though this is a surprise.

“
Jayzee said you’d found a
way to help me get my memory back,” I finally say, leveling a gaze
a Theresa.

“
Yeah, I think I know how
to reverse the effects of Evan’s warding, if you really want that.”
She folds her arms across her chest, and her long, dark hair spills
down her chest, almost concealing the cleavage. Part of me flinches
at the way she is dressed. Another part wants to assume it’s just a
way of trying to fit in.

“
Why wouldn’t I want it?” I
ask, shutting the sliding glass door. “Isn’t that why I
came?”

She nods. “Granted, but your
last mission was just a little more complicated than normal, and
there are things that you are going to find out that aren’t going
to make dealing with those memories particularly easy. I just want
you to keep that in mind.” Her voice holds quite a cautionary tone,
and I wonder if she’s having second thoughts about all this. I
mean, all of us know Evan is powerful, but he is also just, and
perhaps she doesn’t really want to interfere, after all.

“
Are you having second
thoughts about this?” I ask, stepping nearer so I can check her
chaos level. I feel a slight swirling of it, but nothing out of the
ordinary.