The Broken Angel (14 page)

Read The Broken Angel Online

Authors: Monica La Porta

BOOK: The Broken Angel
3.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“It must have been beautiful.”

“To me, it was a gift every time I delivered a new soul into the world. To be able to do my job, I was also allowed a certain degree of detachment from the One, and I was free to have time alone. Time I spent on Earth, flying over mountains, and plains, and oceans. Earth fascinated me. Between deliveries, I traveled from one corner to the other of your planet. One day, I met Sahadeva and my world was turned upside down. I wanted to be with him more than anything else, and I renounced myself—” Samuel looked over Martina’s shoulders, at the panels of the window letting in only darkness. And yet, his heart had never felt so light.

“But he didn’t want you.”

“No, he was a prince and he needed a wife to produce an heir. He would’ve probably kept me as his lover. I think, in his own way, he had loved the angel, but when I came back like this—” His chin tilted to his right shoulder, he raised his wing and fanned it for her. “I was damaged goods.”

“You deserved better.”

“Thank you, but, with time, I learned to appreciate the silver lining in my situation.”

“Which is?” One corner of the comforter slid to the floor and she pulled it up, securing it under her heels.

Samuel wanted nothing more than to replace that piece of fabric with his body and envelope her in his arms. He wished he could transfer his thoughts into her mind and be done with it. “When I renounced my nature, I didn’t know I would be punished and sent to the Middle Plane. Even if Sahadeva had welcomed me back in his life, we would’ve never been together. I prefer he didn’t suffer for me. Had he loved me, the separation would’ve been excruciating for both of us. This way, he had a beautiful life and his wife gave him twelve kids. In a way, it was a blessing.”

Martina’s eyes were filled with tears. “Oh, Samuel.”

“It’s okay. Really. When I was sent back here, in exile, a hundred years had passed already. I went to India, to cry at Sahadeva’s mausoleum. There I discovered what had become of his life. When the pain for his loss subsided, I travelled back to Europe. The first thing I did when I finally settled in Rome was to have a tattoo inked on my arm. Over time, the original design was replaced by slightly different patterns, but the idea of the wing remained.” Every century, he commemorated his falling by having a small detail added to it, something significant to him. Something physical that would accompany his perfect memory, like the little curlicue for Sahadeva’s initial in Sanskrit. When the décor on that arm was done, he would start with the other. One day, he would be covered in ink all over his body. Who knew what the world would look like then? It sure was a different Earth he inhabited now compared to the one he had once flown upon. He would be alone though, that was a certainty.

Martina made a sound, like a small laugh, and he came back to her, making an effort to shake away the darkness from his thoughts, reminding himself he had now. “What’s so funny?”

“You must’ve thought I was so naïve. I can’t believe I thought you needed my help—” She covered her face with both hands.

Unable to resist the urge any longer, Samuel left the couch and kneeled by her side. “You are the bravest woman I’ve ever met. You risked your life for me, for a stranger. You are amazing.”

“And then I thought you… couldn’t...” She sniffed and hid under the comforter. “But you just don’t like women.”

He heard a nervous laugh coming from the bundle. Carefully, he lowered the blanket and put a finger under her chin. “Where did you get the impression I don’t like women?”

“Well, you just told me about your lover, and last night, you didn’t want to make love to me.” She shook her head and laughed a nervous laugh, as if embarrassed. “Before I knew about your orientation, I thought your handicap extended to… you know. Instead you’re just not attracted to women.” She averted her eyes, hoisted the corners of the comforter up again, and covered half of her face with it. She whispered something about looking for a silver lining, without knowing he could hear her. With a sad look, she took a ragged breath and said, “Above all else, I’m glad you’re fine.”

Samuel couldn’t help but smile. He caressed her cheek, lowering the comforter down so he could see her. “Okay, I can understand the misunderstanding. But why would you think I don’t like women?”

Letting go of her shield, she opened her hands before her and regarded him with a frustrated look. “You’re in this situation because you fell in love with a man.”

“So?” He wanted to kiss her, but she was getting angry, and he didn’t understand why. The teapot hissed and he raised his finger for her to wait. A few minutes later, he was back with the tea.

She was staring at him, perched on the edge of the couch. “Are you gay or not?”

He pushed the leather ottoman closer to her and rested the tray on it. “I am not.”

She backed on the seat. “What are you then? Bisexual?”

“Neither.” He poured the tea for her and handed her the cup.

She didn’t look at the cup and didn’t reach out for it, but kept her eyes locked on him.

He didn’t understand why she was getting tense, but felt the need to explain himself to her. “I’m not human. I’m an angel. I am attracted to individuals, not their genders.”

She frowned, but seemed to think about his words for a few seconds. “It would’ve been the same to you if I were a man.”

He inwardly groaned. The headache that had loomed since using his residual powers to erect the occlusion shield had progressed to full migraine in the span of a sentence. Exhausting his residual powers backlashed in physical pain. “No, it wouldn’t be the same because it wouldn’t be you.” He massaged his right temple, then sighed. “I have fallen in love with
you
.”

Her eyes open wide and her mouth formed a perfect “o.”

“It’s you I’ve been dying to make love to.” He turned toward his couch and heavily sat on it.

“You want me.” She looked at him as if he had sprouted horns and not wings. “You.” Again, she encompassed him with a flick of her finger. “Me?”

“What are you getting at?” The tea was already cooling in his cup, but he had lost any interest in it.

“I’m plain. You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes upon. You could have anyone. And you want me?” She shook her head. “I mean… you’re an angel for goodness sake.”

“I guess there’s only one way to show you how much I want you, my anything-but-plain Martina.” He was tired and could barely focus, but he would set
that
record straight tonight.

“What are you doing?” Martina squirmed when he leaned over and hauled her in his arms, cradling her against his chest as he took her to his bedroom.

“What does it look I’m doing?” He only answered after throwing her on the bed.

She scooted to the right side of the mattress as he lowered himself on it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s an excellent idea.” He took her by her waist and pulled her close.

“I think we should wait.” She gently pushed him away.

“Why?” He could feel she was shaking.

“Because I don’t know you. My friend Samuel, the one I was falling for, is gone.” She looked around, over his shoulder. “My whole world is gone.”

“Your world isn’t gone. There’s just more to it than you thought. That’s it.” He made to reach for her waist a second time, but she moved on the bed until her back was resting against the headboard. Her eyes on him, studying him. “Ask me whatever it is you’re dying to ask me.”

“I don’t even know where to start. I can barely believe what I’m looking at.” She pointed her chin at his wings, then massaged her forehead.

“You have to understand that it feels strange to me as well to have to justify my existence to you. Paranormals stick to paranormals for this very reason.” He stretched his wings, and the feathers at the end of the left one brushed her legs.

“How long do you live?”

He gulped down the dread he felt. He feared every truthful answer he gave her would be the last she was willing to listen to. “Forever. Unless my creator decides otherwise.”

Martina’s eyes moistened, she grabbed one of the pillows scattered on the bed and hugged it. “Can you fly?”

Samuel shook his head. “Not anymore. In fact, my nickname is Broken Wing Sam.”

She tilted her head and gave him a small smile. “That doesn’t sound nice.” She stretched her right hand on the coverlet and let it rest close to his shoulder. “Do you have powers?”

He yearned for her touch. “I was created with a sparkle of divine essence, and before the fall I was almost omnipotent. Now, I retain a modicum of the powers I once held, but it’s a shadow of what once was. It drains my strength to exercise any of my powers for a long period of time.”

“Do you miss being that powerful?” She moved her hand until her fingertips hovered over his hair.

He leaned his head into her caress. “I miss flying.”

“I’d miss that too.” She passed her fingers through his hair. “And what about the other angels here on Earth? Do you meet with them often?”

“No, I don’t. Ever.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“They shunned me. I am everything they despise the most. Not only had I renounced my holiness, but I decided to keep my memory intact and my truncated wings.” He moved on the bed to be close to her again.

“And why would they be so upset about that?” She softly brushed his feathers.

At her touch, warmth spread through Samuel and made it easier for him to answer her. “In their eyes, it’s like I want to flaunt my status, as if I were proud of being fallen. As if my decision wasn’t about love, but about not wanting to be an angel anymore.”

“But it’s not like that.” She kept her fingers hovering over his wings.

“No, it’s nothing like that.” He shrugged, melancholy possessing his heart for a moment. “Only they don’t care. They see my mutilation and recoil in disgust.” A few memories of his first years on Earth came back to him. His dark ages. Before meeting Alexander and Ophelia. Before knowing he wasn’t meant to be alone and despised by his brethren. “I’m better without them in any case and I keep as far away as I can from the whole lot.”

“But shouldn’t angels be more tolerant?” She bit her lower lip. “I mean they are
angels
.” She slightly shook her head. “I imagined them beautiful and good. Like you.”

One look at her worried expression and he smiled. “Nah, they might be beautiful, but nothing like me.”

She smiled back. “So, I’m not missing anything.”

“No, you aren’t.” He laughed. “They’re a bunch of pompous jerks who believe they are better than anyone else and treat the rest of the world like garbage.” He walked his fingers over the coverlet and reached for her leg. “There isn’t a single paranormal species who can stand them.”

She looked down at his hand and drew a long breath when he caressed her skin. “I hope I never meet them.”

He laughed harder. “I wouldn’t worry about that. Being associated with me has reduced your chances of ever meeting them to zero.”

“Good.” She leaned to give him a small kiss on his nose, then stood quiet for a long moment before adding like an afterthought, “That’s good.”

He felt the change in Martina’s humor, and tilted his chin to meet her lips with his. “But?”

****

Martina bumped her forehead against his and sighed. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to all of this. I’m waiting to wake up from this strange dream.” She moved away from him, then looked for the pillow she had discarded to her side and hugged it back. “Beside a whole universe I didn’t even know existed, there is you—”

“What about me?”

Letting the pillow fall on her lap, she opened her hands. “You are magnificent.”

“Thank you?”

She couldn’t help but laugh a little at his comeback, but sobered immediately. “It’s hard for me to reconnect what I see now with what I used to see when I looked at you. You were already beautiful to me. I thought I could see through your exterior and I liked what I found inside. But you…” She brought her knees up. “You are too much. This whole situation is too much.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” He wound his arms over her shoulders and leaned his head over hers.

She felt the longing in his touch and it matched hers. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

He let out a long breath. “We’ll find a way to make it work.”

She eased into his embrace and rested her head on the hollow between his shoulder and neck, accepting his slow caresses on her arms. She felt minuscule compared to him. “Now I finally understand your fixation with big and sturdy furniture.”

He chuckled. “I’m too heavy and I break things easily.”

She had felt his laughter echoing in his ribcage and it had sounded like a roar. “I thought you kind of overcompensated…” She snuggled closer to him. “How would it work between you and me?”

He had slightly moved and was now angled so he was looking at her. “What do you mean?”

Too embarrassed to clarify her statement, she couldn’t help but blush.

“Oh,
that
way.” He lowered his lips to hers for a peck. “I’d be very gentle.” He took her pillow away and with one hand on the small of her back, he pressed her body against his. “I’d cover you with kisses.” Lowering himself down to the mattress and pulling her with him, he started trailing brushes all over her face.

“And what if I was too scared?” She was shaking, but her tremors weren’t for fear.

“I’d cuddle you until you relaxed.” His fingers traced circles on her arms, then slowly found their way under the hem of her shirt and stopped on her bare skin for a full heartbeat. He raised his head to hers.

She looked down at him, at his lips, wanting nothing more than to forget how truly different he was from her and give in to the moment. “I’ll be just a blink for you.”

“Never think that.” He pushed himself on his elbows, his face coming close to hers, their lips almost touching. “I am eternal, but I live for those blinks. Nothing else compares to this moment, to the way I feel, wishing you’ll let me make love to you, but not knowing for sure. The anticipation alone is worth risking your refusal.” He caught her wrist with one of his big hands and brought it to his mouth, teasing its inner side with the tip of his tongue. “That skip in your heartbeat you just had, it’s worth everything to me.”

Other books

Lucy the Poorly Puppy by Holly Webb
War 1812 by Michael Aye
The Sight by David Clement-Davies
St. Albans Fire by Mayor, Archer
Not to Disturb by Muriel Spark