The Second Sign (23 page)

It was late. Music wafted out through the sliver
under the door in Jenna’s room. He crept through the hallway toward
his room, feeling lucky to have missed her attention. She was
always acting like the dad since their parents were so easy with
him, letting him do whatever he pleased. Jumping off of bridges,
and out of airplanes...sure, no problem. “Jake,” Mom’d say, “just
be sure to call me.” He once considered calling her while he did
the jump, but fear of losing his phone from the sheer g-force made
him think twice.

Passing Jenna’s room, he glanced toward his parents’
room. The door was open, the light off, and the bed sheets askew.
The whole room looked a mess as if someone were desperately looking
for something. The King James Bible was propped open, though Jake
had never remembered seeing it before. His parents were atheists.
They didn’t believe in religion, and their only spirituality
revolved around a few murmured prayers for Jake’s safety. Jake
still wasn’t sure who they prayed to.

He meant to go back to his room until he heard the
faint whispers coming from the heating grate in the room. He knew,
after getting caught in the basement trying to light a torch, that
the vent echoed whatever was spoken down there. Light on his feet,
he went back down.

To this day, he wasn’t sure what drove him to go
down there. He certainly didn’t want to catch his mom and dad in
any type of action. Their relationship often made Jake want to gag
while Jenna thought it a dream. But the whispered echoes drove him.
His pulse quickened as he bounded down the stairs. He froze for but
a second, his eyes reaching past her hanging body where a
shimmering glow cut the darkness, and then winked out.

Jake found his legs and rushed to his mom, trying to
lift the dead weight and bring the chair she had kicked out from
under her. But he couldn’t. He knew she was already dead the moment
he touched her and felt her cold flesh. He felt something in her
clutched hand and pulled out a piece of paper, stumbled back, and
fell. He drew up his knees and hugged them against his chest,
rocking himself. His vision veiled by tears.

His father didn’t see him when he made his
appearance as if he knew what had happened. A low cry escaped his
lips. “No. No. No,” he muttered over and over. His father took the
chair and stepped on it to cut her down, holding her weight as if
the dead didn’t have substance. Jake never thought his dad was
strong enough to carry a child. He settled her on the ground,
cradling her head and rocked rhythmically back and forth, touching
her face, his own face marred by pain. Jake realized the depth of
his father’s love though too late to make much of a difference in
his life.

His father wiped away his tears, angry, and one name
escaped his lips before he realized his son was sitting in shadows
next to him. One name Jake had forgotten.
Max
.

When his father finally noticed him, a wave of
emotion rushed through him. He asked Jake to keep it from Jenna.
Noticing the paper clutched in Jake’s hand, his father reached out
for it, but Jake opened it before he could snatch it away. It was a
page of the Bible referencing the Second Seal circled in red. He
handed it to his father who sobbed.

When Jake broke through the woods and into the road,
Gabby was pacing, her phone in her hand. She turned to him worried
lines etched on her face. “Where did you go?”

He felt tired, heavy. “Get in.”

She did.

“The road service is going to be here in fifteen
minutes. Where were you? I went to look for you,” Gabby said, and
drew her brows together.

He looked at his watch. It was almost ten.

“Jake, what happened? You look like you saw a
ghost.”

He squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles
turned white, and then met her gaze. “Who is Naite?”

She turned away from him and looked out the window.
“I don’t know anyone by that name,” she responded.

Lie.

“What did Kyle tell you?” he asked, feeling a dead
weight settle in the pit of his stomach.

“He told me he doesn’t remember.”

Lie.

“Where do the souls of people who commit suicide
go?”

She whirled her gaze back to him, her expression of
fear and pity. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Where, Gabby?” His tone hard, the steering wheel
kept him from taking hold of her and shaking the truth out of
her.

“Nowhere. They just die.”

Lie.

He sat in silence for twenty minutes until the road
service arrived with gas and he drove her home.

He didn’t bother asking her about Max. He wanted to
leave that question for his dad.

He pulled up in front of her house.

“Jake, I want—”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Gabby.” He turned to
her, her scent embedded in him. It took all his resolve not to
reach out and touch her. To be lost in her hair, eyes and flesh
would be bliss. It was the only thing that kept him grounded. It
was real for him. But he didn’t reach out to her, just gave her a
cold look that sent his heart on fire. “Go. We’re done.”

Her chest rose and fell with every inhalation of
breath. Her hands began to tremble, and she wiped her palms on her
jeans. His mind screamed at him to stop her. To retract all that he
had said. But before he could do it, she bolted from the truck. He
watched as she rounded the house and went for the veranda, where he
had first seen her. In the darkness he could no longer make out her
smooth features, she was lost to him. He drove home before he lost
the nerve to end things.

Gabby had not trusted him enough to tell him the
truth. Good and evil meant heaven and hell, angel and demon. Gabby
knew this, but still couldn’t trust him. When he opened the door to
the house, he heard his father in the kitchen with Jenna. He saw
them, Jenna the spitting image of his mom. His father something
else entirely. They both looked at Jake. Jenna’s lips drew tight
while his father tensed.

“Hello, Dad,” he said. “We need to talk.”

More Lies

Gabby stumbled just as she rounded the corner,
unable to go inside the house. The darkness seemed to swallow all
the oxygen and she couldn’t breathe. Why didn’t she tell him the
truth? Naite must have revealed herself to him, so why didn’t she
warn him? She heard the truck echo away and she fell on the steps,
brought up her knees, and rocked herself. She couldn’t tell him
about Kyle because it had been her fault. She couldn’t tell him
that souls who commit suicide go to Hell because of his love for
his mother. She needed to protect him. She wanted to rip out of her
own skin, to be different. She didn’t want to know about angels and
demons. She didn’t want to believe in Heaven or Hell. She wanted to
be ignorant in all things ethereal because they were all lies. The
reality of Jake was her truth. And yet, she couldn’t hold on to
him.

She hit her forehead on her knees. Jake meant more
to her than anything. Feeling the small box in her jacket, she
pulled it out. Charred, it crumbled in her hand as she opened it.
Inside slept a silver anklet with a small crucifix. Tears blurred
her vision as she pulled it out and squeezed the cold metal in her
hand. She had to fight for Jake because he loved her and she loved
him. But she didn’t know how.

She noticed Adler’s Mini Cooper parked in the
driveway and before thinking how in trouble she would be, she
shoved the anklet in her pocket, jumped behind the wheel, and took
off onto the dark road. She would go see Elle. A sanctuary, Elle’s
curio shop protected people like her and Max, a place they could go
to seek refuge. And answers. Elle manipulated old magic when truths
were hidden within the power of the elements. Elle would know what
Gabby should do about Jake. Elle would be able to explain why Gabby
needed him. She had to.

The lights were dim inside, but Elle had an
apartment in the back of the shop. She tried the door and it
opened. The air pulsed around her with kinetic energy she could
feel. The hairs on her arm prickled. Gabby often felt something
similar when around Max and Adler, but this feeling hung thick in
the air, a hundred times as potent. Her flesh reacted with a steady
vibration against the unnatural force seeping into her pores. She
closed the door behind her and stepped into the small apartment
leading deeper into the store. She walked toward the sound of
voices and stopped when she heard Pat. She crouched behind the
counter, hidden by shelves of trinkets and watched.

Pat had been a mystery to her. One of the Fallen,
she wasn’t exactly sure what side he had chosen. If he had chosen
at all. Another of the long list of mistakes under her belt, Pat
exuded conflict and hate, but she had also caught a glimpse of hope
and despair.

“Hello, Elle,” he said as he made his way toward the
curio in the center of the perfectly squared room. As one of the
angels, Pat was perfect, his stature prominent, his body taut and
muscled, his flesh unmarred except for the circular scars on his
palms. And perfect except around his eyes. Pat’s blue eyes were
rimmed with a shade of darkness that made him look aged. Gabby
could only imagine what caused the rim of death. What had he seen
in his long years as a Fallen? What had he done?

“Hello, Pat. I wondered when you would come to see
me,” Elle responded, breaking Gabby from her thoughts. The tall
woman turned leisurely around to look at him. Her thin, dry lips
cracked, spilling a black viscous substance when she smirked. Gabby
had always thought Elle was human. Max had mentioned sanctuaries
around the world for people like them. But they were run by human
Magis. Elle didn’t look human, at all.

Pat took a step toward her and stopped near the
angel stand. “I've been meaning to visit sooner, but I couldn't
find you.” He turned the stand around, unconcerned by the mounting
force Elle splurged into the room.

Gabby felt it crawl up her skin.

He found the angel with the mother holding a child,
porcelain. The one Jenna had liked.

“Why are you here?” Elle snapped, the edges of her
face pulling down, a twitch under her left eye.

“You betrayed me.” Pat didn’t look at her.

Gabby felt the ebbing of pain settle just over her
flesh. The sensation of pinpricks edged their way up her leg to
settle on her stomach, amassing an army that made her sick.

“Millions died because of you, millions! You started
a war!” Elle hissed, stepping further away from him.

“No! It wasn't my fault. Men are evil. They don't
understand the meaning of peace,” Pat snapped at her, his face a
grimace of pain.

Elle scrutinized him, her black eyes wide filled
with hate. “You were sentenced—”

“Unfairly!” He took a step closer, his hands balled
into fists, his eyes glued to her face. “I came to you for
sanctuary, sanctuary!” his voice boomed in the room, the glass
cases shivering under his thick tone. “And you betrayed me for your
own soul.”

Pat smiled, though it marred his eyes.

“You think I don't know what you and your traitor
sister are?” he laughed. “What would Senn give me for your soul, I
wonder?”

Elle licked the black substance from her lip.

“Drop the shields. Let us fight here under the dome
and safely away from humans and I'll let your sister live.” He
pulled the small mother with child angel out of the curio. “Or not
and I'll kill you both. But I'll keep you in the wreath and let you
watch me send her soul to Senn. You choose.”

Gabby walked out, falling into step between Elle and
Pat. Pat’s eyes widened, but Elle curled her lip and Gabby couldn’t
help but to feel afraid of her. She looked like a slab of
stone.

“What fight?” She turned to Pat.

He bit down hard, clenching his fist. “It is not
your concern,” he said through gritted teeth.

Elle’s cackle ripped through Gabby’s mind, forcing
her to wince.

“Ah...but it is
her
concern,” Elle said. Her
flesh began to blister, which burst, leaking ooze down her chin.
She didn’t seem to notice. “Tell her, Pat. Tell her why you chose
her life over your own. Tell her why you remain a Fallen.”

“Shut up,” Pat hissed.

Gabby shook her head. She wanted to know what Elle
meant, but the woman continued to bleed stone and Gabby couldn’t
take her eyes off of her. “What are you?”

Just as the words left her mouth, Elle charged at
her, clawed hands outstretch. Gabby felt Pat grab her and pull her
out of the way. He snapped his wrist and sent a thick cloud of dust
toward Elle.

Elle shrieked, her face a feral mask. She cupped her
face in her hands and brought them down slowly. Gabby held her
breath.

Elle’s flesh rippled, jagged cracks split the flesh,
a fissure of broken tissue and tendrils peeled away in a sinew of
blood. It clung to her true form underneath before sliding to the
floor. One clawed, leathery wing ripped out of her back, followed
by another that tore out of her flesh, beating the air. Her bones
snapped, rearranging themselves into shorter, thicker ones, forcing
her to crouch. The flesh on her face slid off. Her human eyes
slipped off her face, dropping onto her black skeletal frame
revealing black, round, lidless disks for eyes.

Pat stepped back, shoving Gabby behind him. “Golem.
And I
know
the angels have no clue,” he said, a firm smile
on his lips.

Elle snarled, “Magic enchantments that protect this
sanctuary protect me as well.”

“Interesting,” he said, doubt creeping into his
voice. ”It matters not. It won't protect you any longer.” He held
out the mother-child figurine Gabby had sold to Elle. “Had she
known the power of it, she would never have sold it,” he said,
squeezing the figurine until the porcelain mask fell away, and it
turned to dust in his hands.