Divinity (26 page)

“Maybe Michael is right about the shoes,” she groaned.

She hit the power on her TV remote and the eleven o’clock news came on the screen. Julia hated watching the news. It gave her such a heavy heart. The anchorperson was talking about a woman who had gone missing from Dulles Airport. Julia turned up the volume and listened with increasing alarm as it was revealed that the missing woman had been on the same flight as Julia.

“She was last seen here, on the airport security camera, leaving the baggage claim area. If you have any information relating to the whereabouts of this woman, please call…”

Julia stopped hearing the newscast when she saw the man following the woman out the door of the baggage claim area. It was the man she had spoken with earlier, JJ. One hand slapped over her mouth as the bottom dropped out of her stomach. She had to pry her fingers away from her lips to reach for the phone and dial the number on the screen, but stopped short.

“Damn it!” She tossed the phone onto her coffee table. “What would I say?”

She knew she couldn’t call the police and just tell them some guy talked to her on the plane and gave her a bad feeling. She’d sound like an idiot! She listened to the news anchor continue the story, announcing that the woman was the third similar disappearance in so many days. Julia stood. She didn’t know what she was going to do, but she felt she had to do something.

“You must not interfere, girl.”

Julia spun to face Michael. “Why not?”

“You live in a human world,” Michael said, “and must, for the time being, do things the way that humans do. If you feel the need to interfere, you must call the police and deal with the matter as a human would.”

“They’ll think I’m nuts!”

Michael only nodded and folded his arms.

A typhoon of anger built up inside her and she clenched her fists tightly to keep from tearing her townhouse apart. She lifted her chin and spoke through her ceiling to the sky, where she was certain Gabriel would hear.

“Damn you for making me into…this!” She fixed her glare on Michael. “And damn you for not letting me be who I really am!”

“Now you begin to understand,” Michael said softly, “what it is to be one of us. Always seeing, and rarely able to interfere.”

“That woman will die—or worse—because I did nothing.” Julia sank to the couch and leaned forward, burying her face in her hands. She pressed her face tightly with her palms, as though that would keep her head from exploding.

“Choice has always been as much a curse as it is a blessing, girl,” Michael said. He moved to sit beside her, and though she wanted to stay angry with him, his presence calmed her. “You have choices now. You may call the police and report what you know.”

“I can’t do that without telling them what I sensed,” Julia muttered through her hands. She eased the grip on her face, then straightened and faced Michael. “Can’t you do something?”

In the flicker of less than a second, Julia was certain she saw regret in Michael’s eyes, but he hardened them and shook his head.

“It is a hard lesson, but we must allow the natural course of events to play out.”

“It’s hard sometimes,” Gabriel said with a heavy voice.

“What is?” Michael answered, his brow furrowed.

“To stand by and let them harm each other.”

“It is the way it has always been, Brother.” Michael’s strong voice was contradicted by his sad eyes. “We don’t always stand by, either.”

Gabriel nodded, his attention divided between Michael beside him and Julia below. She sat in her living room, watching news updates into the early hours of the morning.

“I know,” Gabriel agreed. “Sometimes our children become their champions.”

“Would it help you if I listed them, and gave you the numbers they saved?” Michael rested one hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Gandhi alone…”

“I know, Michael, but I am concerned. How well are we maintaining balance? Are we giving them enough miracles to level out the inherent evil that stirs within them?”

“In the end, Gabriel, we do all we can within our limits. If she can be what she is supposed to be, the balance will be restored.” Michael let out a long breath and waved a hand, revealing another scene below. “We don’t always have to sit idly by, either.”

Gabriel watched in silence as the man, JJ, traced the tip of his blade along the skin of the young woman he had abducted from the airport. Her eyes were wide with terror, her hair matted to her forehead, slick with sweat. The duct tape placed firmly over her lips quivered with her attempts to scream. Her arms were stretched out above her. They looked like they might pop free from their sockets, and her hands were purple. The ropes around her wrists had cut off her circulation hours ago.

Michael entered the scene, stepping into the woman’s body. The ropes fell from her wrists and ankles, and the tape fell away from her mouth. Her mouth worked as Michael’s voice poured out from it.

“You chose the wrong flight today.” The pitch of his voice was so powerful that JJ’s eardrums burst. He clutched at his now-useless ears, shrieked, and fell to the floor.

Wearing the woman’s body, Michael stepped over the floundering man as the blood pooled on each side of JJ’s head, then he walked out the door. He picked a blanket off the couch in the next room and wrapped it around the shoulders of the woman, then made his way out the door. He walked her up the street and hailed the first taxi he saw.

“Where to, lady?” the cabby said without looking behind him.

“Police station, quickly.” This time, Michael used her voice.

When he slid out of her shell, she collapsed in the seat. She would arrive at the police station unconscious.

“I think that balanced out nicely, don’t you, Brother?”

Gabriel’s gaze was dark, but he couldn’t hide the curl of his lips into the slightest hint of a smile.

XXVI

A
FTER
a long night pacing the floor, Julia curled up and slept for a few hours. The first thing she did upon waking was check the news for updates.

She listened intently as a breathless reporter detailed the heroic woman’s escape and unconscious arrival at the police station. The reporter described in detail the way the body of James Johnson, a local realtor, was found in his home when the neighbor’s dog dragged its owner to the door during their morning walk.

Throughout the interview, the traumatized neighbor kept repeating, “He was so quiet. He seemed so normal.”

The victim was said to be recovering in the hospital and was not available for comment.

Dammit. Julia felt like the rope in a tug of war between two rock giants. Every time she thought of something she loved about her life, or about people in general, she saw something that made her loathe humanity and its incessant need to harm one another, to hate one another. If only she could figure out how to use her so-called powers to stop them. If only there was a way to do that without landing herself in a room beside Maria.

Julia switched off the television and sat back, still staring at the screen. “I think it’s a good time to get away,” she said out loud, her voice echoing in the empty apartment. “And I know just the place.”

The car glided soundlessly over the newly paved driveway. A perfectly manicured lawn, sprinkled with wildflowers, surrounded a cottage built with rounded stones. It had a steeply sloping, clay-tiled roof and quaint blue shutters on the windows. A cobblestone path led from the driveway to the steps of the veranda, which wrapped around the whole house. There was a front porch swing to the right of the door.

Julia’s eyes welled with tears as she remembered telling Alex almost six months before what her ideal front porch would be like. She could see the lake in the back around the side of the cottage, a wooden dock jutting into the water at the bottom of a small hill. The far side of the lawn was edged with trees. It was everything she had ever wanted.

Anger boiled through her veins. She should have shared this moment with Alex and she should have spent time with him sitting on the porch swing. She wanted time with him sipping sweet tea in the shade on a hot summer day, watching him sleep at night, mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest, secretly adoring his peaceful features, and strolling along the lake hand in hand, only letting go to skip stones along the surface. The anger ebbed, giving way to sadness and loss. She wished she had some memories of him here that she could revisit.

She stepped up to the door and inserted the key into the lock. It turned smoothly and the door opened to a beautiful entryway. The flawless oak flooring was enhanced by the antique entryway table, which had delicately carved legs, curling at the bottom to meet the floor. Sitting on top of it was an envelope, propped up against a small box.

On the front, in Alex’s handwriting, was her name. With a trembling hand, Julia picked up the envelope and turned it over. She wasn’t sure why she lifted it to her nose and inhaled until she let out a disappointed breath when she realized it didn’t smell like him.

“Well, I suppose not,” she said, wiping her eyes. “It’s been almost three weeks since he died, and who knows how long before that when he wrote this.”

She looked at her reflection in the beveled mirror that hung over the table, saw the dark circles under her eyes and thought, not for the first time that week, that she needed to start sleeping more, and chasing old ghosts and angels less. She let her eyes drift back down to the envelope in her hand and carefully opened it. She pulled the letter out, took a deep breath, and began to read.

Not for the first time since she had watched Alex’s lifeless body slump to the ground, Julia wept. She threw her head back and howled. Her grief felt as though it were seeping into her marrow and cracking her open from the inside out. She fell to her knees, her shoulders slumped forward as sobs wracked her.

“Oh, Alex, how can I live with what happened?” Julia said to the paper in her hand. “How did you know? Why didn’t you tell me?”

She held the letter away from her face so it wouldn’t get tearstained.

“Why? Why you? Why now?” Julia shouted at the letter through her choked tears, shaking it for emphasis. When she realized she was damaging the paper, she got to her feet, pulling herself up with the table. She placed the letter on the polished top and flattened it out.

Wiping away her tears, she picked up the small box. It was silver-blue, with a purple satin ribbon. She slowly untied the ribbon, steeling herself for another heart-wrenching discovery. When she opened the box, there was another box inside—this one a hinged jewelry box.

A warm smile touched her lips as she opened the lid, revealing a beautiful platinum necklace with a teardrop pendant. It looked black and solid, but when she held it up to the light, it was translucent. There was a small note card stuck to the lining in the top of the box with only two words upon it: “Apache Tear.”

Julia gasped, both for the beauty of the gift and for the thoughtfulness. Julia and Alex had visited a gem store a few months before. Alex had marveled at the story of the Apache women spilling their tears for their fallen warriors. Julia loved the hidden transparency, and the healing qualities the stone was said to have—specifically for grief and emotional distress.