Angel Dreams (An Angel Falls Book 2) Page 13

  Strange does not begin to describe what it’s like to have to remember she can see me when I’m not in the physical. After I died, it took years to remember that people couldn’t see me and to let go of common human courtesies because they’re irrelevant to an invisible angel. With Jules, I’m relearning to pay attention again. I can’t watch her unseen like with everyone else. Well almost everyone else, I correct. Her odd medicine man friend, Chris, he also sees me. Unlike Jules, he doesn’t like what he sees, making the situation altogether different.

  I’m hesitating, I realize. Her brother is the most important person in her life. Is it fair to tell someone in advance that their closest relative will no longer be a part of their life? Of all the countless loved ones I’ve assisted over the last twenty some odd years, who of them would have wanted to know when their mother, or father, or husband, or wife, or sons and daughters, was going to leave them forever? Who would really want that burden? Knowing exactly when time was going to run out? No, there’s no simple answer to death, or time. Like the individuality of every soul that has ever crossed my path, there isn’t only one answer to satisfy them all. My truth is there can’t be any secrets between Juliana and me if this is going to last.

  She’s sleeping when I peer through the door. I go over and sit on the edge of the bed and wait. Gravity doesn’t have a pull on me so she shouldn’t feel me sitting next to her. She shouldn’t, but then again, she shouldn’t even see me, and yet she does. I run over and over all the ways I might tell her about Jared and none of them make me feel any better about what I have to say.

  Her face is turned toward me, and framed with her dark hair. I catch myself staring at her pale skin, so satin smooth. There are faint lines of old scratches across her forehead. My eyes wander to her lips. They always do. They’re exquisite. If I have ever had to describe anything with that word, her mouth is it. Lush and perfect, and God, the way they feel is indescribable.

  “No one has ever had this effect on me before,” I whisper to her.

  I came to her in her sleep before, and she said she remembered our conversations with full clarity. Could I tell her something as important as this in her sleep? Would that be the route of a coward?

  “I came back to you,” I start over.

  She rolls over onto her stomach hiding her face under waves of hair.

  “Do you want me to leave? I’ve asked you the same question so many times, but it’s difficult for me to accept I have someone as perfect as you in my world.”

  I see her chest rise and fall in a deep breath like she so often does when she’s processing something important. It encourages me to keep whispering to her.

  “The first time I was in this room,” I say, thinking about the moment when I made the worst, and best, mistake of my afterlife. It was from the first glimpse that I couldn’t stop thinking about her; when I was supposed to be doing what Marcus is doing now. This may be the only way I can explain what is coming for Jared. To start at the beginning. “I only saw you,” I say.

  “Jared was in here, playing his guitar, and I thought maybe you knew I was here, but I wasn’t certain. You didn’t see me the way you see me now. Something changed for you at Castle Hill. I hope you don’t regret it, because you see me Juliana. The real me.”

  “I want you to know that whatever happens in your future, I want to be a part of it. But you must promise to tell me when you’ve had enough? I love you enough to walk away if I’m bringing you despair.”

  She stirs after I say this, rolling again, this time onto her side. I wonder if I’ve gone too far and awakened her. One of her hands brushes the hair out of her face and then settles half curled under her chin. Her eyelids flicker and I can see the orbs shifting under the thin skin. She frowns and then her eyes squint up tight. Her head begins to shake slightly against her pillow as if she’s struggling with a bad dream.

  Concern that I’m the cause of her distress makes me shift closer to her.

  “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot,” I whisper.

  Her head shakes no and a whimper escapes from her throat.

  “I’ll leave. Sleep, love.”

  I start to stand. I can wait downstairs with Corrine. She jerks to a sitting position, with her gaze cast down.

  “No,” she calls out, but doesn’t look up.

  “I didn’t mean to wake you. Forgive me.”

  She looks down farther hiding completely beneath her hair.

  “Was it a bad dream?” I ask.

  She still doesn’t answer as she turns away and faces the wall by the bed.

  “I’ll see you downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

  This appears to upset her further and she begins shaking her head again. She raises her hands and she presses her palms against her temples.

  Worry and fear grip me like a monster. “What’s wrong?” I form my physical body and reach out to her.

  “Juliana, what is it? Please say something.”

  Then as if nothing were wrong at all, she drops her hands to the bedspread and throws it back, exposing her body. She’s wearing a blue tank top and I get a glimpse of the white flesh around her hips and a flash of black under-things.

  Stepping back from sheer surprise at her change of reaction, and a need to give her some privacy, I turn my head, staring down at the floor. We’re new at this, but she has always had a sense of modesty, which is rather cute and innocent. I like that about her. God knows I want to see her in nothing but a thin clinging T-shirt, but out of respect I look away.

  “I’ll wait downstairs,” I say.

  I hear her slide out of bed, on the far side next to the wall, and then the soft padding of her bare feet. No reply.

  By the door I hesitate, “Juliana? Do you need anything?”

  Then, as if I’m drowning inside a sinking ship, there’s intense pressure on me from all sides. Drowning in the Arctic Ocean with nothing but ice over my head would be heaven compared to what I think is happening right now.

  She doesn’t answer. I hear her take a deep breath, heavy on the exhale. I sneak a look at her. Her back is to me as she stands by the window. Straight black hair nearly to the curve of her backside and those long legs are even better than I had imagined.

  She turns to look at me over her shoulder. I’m caught, but God, it’s worth it. Creamy flesh, long and slender, and curving in all the right places. Only it’s not worth it. She stares through me. Her eyes pass over the doorway where I stand and then move onto something else. She sees me not. Death inside death. Who knew? It’s over. The gift of having time together is gone. Just like that.

  No!

  I will not accept this. In as little as a few hours apart, she no longer sees me. What in God’s name happened last night!

  “Juliana, I’m right here. I promised I’d return. What’s going on, love?” I take a desperate step forward.

  Her shoulder twitches once as if shaking off a pestering fly, but she shows no other response to my desperation.

  Walking across the room makes no difference, and as I step in close enough to touch her, she sidesteps away from me and moves to stand in front of the closet. No other expression on her face could be worse than one of no acknowledgment at all. I could take anger, or tears, or her telling me to go straight through the nine circles of Hell with a one way pass, but to be completely ignored is worse than I could ever have imagined.

  Her hands move over the clothes hanging in front of her, searching for something to wear, while completely unaware to the fact I’m standing right behind her. I close my eyes and try not to wither.

  I can never give up. I have to know what happened to change her. Can someone lose the ability to see angelic beings overnight? What could cause such a thing to happen? Is she sick? Marcus said she was doing drugs last night. This information directly from Marcus is the only way I would believe it. Jules hates drugs, and she hates that her brother does them. Juliana was doing drugs last night. Is this a side effect? Has her mind been altered by the toxic effects
of the drugs? AHHHHHH! I scream inside, and then I slam my hand onto my forehead. How can this be happening?

  I relinquish my body. She can’t see me. I must conserve my energy.

  “We’ll figure this out,” I tell her. She doesn’t turn to look at me. It causes another wrench in my chest, as if clamps have just been tightened around my heart.

  Juliana takes a black shirt from a hanger and then pulls a pair of shorts out of the dresser drawer. I place my back to the wall and turn my head respectfully as she dresses.

  Marcus may have more to tell me when he returns. And there’s Corrine as well. She’s been here since I left. It may be time to introduce myself to my client.

  Juliana walks past me and out the door. She was three inches from me, and not a flicker of recognition. I’ve become invisible to the one person who matters. A hole the size of the moon takes the place of where meaning and happiness lived inside me only moments before. No, I shake my head in denial. We will figure this out.

  Chapter Eleven: Faces of Fear

  Nathaniel

  Downstairs I watch as Juliana makes nice with Corrine. It’s awkward and unsettling between them, but I can’t explain exactly what it is. Let’s just say, Corrine looks like a mouse trapped in a corner facing a pair of green cat eyes, Juliana’s eyes.

  “Did you get enough rest last night, sweetie?” she asks. “Eat anything?”

  “Yeah, I ate. Jared said to help myself. I hope it’s okay,” Corrine says.

  She’s tucked into a small ball on the couch and watches as Juliana slips on some shoes by the front door.

  “You should come with me to do an errand. It won’t take long. I’m sure you’re ready to get out of here for a little while, aren’t you?”

  Juliana squats down to tie the laces on her tennis shoes. Her eyes flick up to watch Corrine as she waits for an answer.

  “I’m still not feeling too great. You know the bleeding from yesterday. It’s better but not gone. Can I wait here for you?”

  “The fresh air will be good for you. Come with me. All you have to do is sit in the car anyway. Not a big deal,” Jules says. She stands back up and takes a few steps toward Corrine.

  Corrine shrinks back into the cushions and, oddly, I get a similar urge to move away.

  Where is she going and why does she want Corrine to go with her?

  “Come on. You can’t stay here by yourself. My mom will be here any second and I don’t want to have to tell her why you’re here. She won’t like it,” she adds with an edge of irritation.

  I get a distinct impression that Juliana is lying about her mom. The Juliana I know isn’t a liar. Nothing feels right around here.

  Corrine’s pale blue eyes stare out the front windows for a second and then she unfolds her knees and inches off the couch.

  Her tiny body looks even more fragile today than I remembered it being.

  “Sure. Let’s go,” she says.

  The blank expression on Corrine’s face, although somewhat solemn, looks like a mask of indifference, but I suspect she’s really freaking out inside. I wonder if my face looks the same as hers.

  ∞

  “Where did you say we’re going?” Corrine asks.

  “I have to stop by a friend’s house,” Juliana answers.

  She turns the corner from one dirt road onto another. Corrine’s hand curls into a small tight fist around the armrest on the door panel. I’m not sure where we’re headed either, but by Corrine’s physical response she seems to have an idea.

  With more than a little desperation, I sit in the back seat and make myself stay silent. Neither one of them can see me and I need to play my cards right if I’m going to approach Corrine. For now I have to observe and pick my time to make another appearance with care. The last thing Corrine needs is to be shaken by an unexpected appearance from an Angel of Death.

  “Why would you bring me here?” Corrine asks with despair in her tiny voice.

  Juliana slows the car as we pull down a narrow driveway toward a desolate looking house. Now I recognize it. This is Corrine’s house. There’s nothing really wrong with this place from the outside. If it wasn’t for the cars, it would look uninhabited. The curtains are all pulled shut and grass has taken over the flower beds. Not one sign of life is to be seen outside the house, not a trash can, or a lawn chair, nothing personal. As for maintenance and up-keep, I don’t think anyone has done a thing to the place for the last twenty years.

  Jules parks next to the two BMW’s in front of the house and shuts off the engine. She turns to face Corrine.

  “He told your brother last night that you needed to come home, so I brought you home.” Corrine shudders and her somber blue eyes fill with tears. Juliana doesn’t seem to care. “Go on. He knows we’re out here.”

  Corrine doesn’t open her door, but sits still as stone, blank faced and unblinking at the small brown house. Juliana climbs out and comes around to open Corrine’s side.

  “You do live here, don’t you? It can’t be that bad. I’ll even come inside with you.”

  Corrine moves as if her spirit has already left her body. A hollow shell on legs. My heart aches for her. After getting her away from her maniacal stepfather, I thought there was definitely some hope for her mental well-being, but now Juliana has driven her straight back to him.

  “It will never end. I told you he would never let me leave. He always finds a way.”

  “Well, he is your father,” Jules says coldly.

  “Stepfather,” Corrine mumbles.

  When we enter through the front door, Travis is nowhere to be seen. A chill passes through me as I stand at the entrance. I’ve been here before, of course, with Corrine but we mostly stayed in her bedroom. My hesitation comes from the fact that I haven’t been back here since he attacked me. Or should I say, the thing he was wielding attacked me and shredded my side into raw agony. The house has a new nightmarish quality. And I have a much clearer understanding of what Corrine has been living with.

  We don’t see Travis Dawson in the bleak living room, but like the smell of day old fish, I can feel his presence lingering from somewhere inside.

  Corrine ignores the two of us and settles into the corner of a gold-brown couch. I suspect the couch and the other hodge-podge pieces of seventies looking furniture came with the house. Juliana sits on the opposite end and the two of them could be playing a game of who can be the quietest the longest.

  Before I can decide whether or not this is the most bizarre, or the most terrifying situation I’ve ever been in, sounds from the hallway alert me to Travis’s whereabouts. Quickly, I step into the kitchen and out of sight of the hallway. I’m still able to hear and see most of the living room — including Juliana on the couch. If anything happens, I want her in my reach, whether she can see me or not. I don’t want another battle with a demon, but I’ll protect her and Corrine at any expense to myself. Previous to our encounter by the rock caverns, Travis seemed to have no interest in me, and if it were up to me, I would keep it that way. Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s the case any longer.

  “Glad you made it home safe, my little seeker,” he says.

  The condescending sneer in his tone makes me want to wring his neck.

  “Cook dinner tonight. Patrick will be home later and you two need to eat.”

  There’s a silent pause and then Travis interjects. “Did you hear me, Corrine?”

  “Yes,” she says without emotion.

  “Good. Now, are you going to introduce me to your friend? Your mother would frown on such rude behavior if she were here.”

  “Where is my mom?” I hear Corrine ask.

  “Where is my mom?” Travis mimics in a horrible grating impersonation of his stepdaughter. “I’ll tell you where. She lives with Satan in the pits of Hell.”

  He laughs as if he’s told some hilarious joke. “Now stop keeping me waiting. Who is this beautiful friend of yours?”

  No one should ever have to deal with a parent as disturbed a
s Travis.

  “Travis this is Jules. Jules, Travis. I think you met yesterday.”

  Jules turns wide appraising eyes to the opposite side of the living room where I can’t see. The corners of her wide precious mouth turn up slightly. “It’s my pleasure, Travis,” she says.

  She moistens her lips with the tip of her tongue. I have to close my eyes to the sight of her staring at the nefarious man with a hint of what, seduction? It can’t be, but what else can I possibly call that look? A retching sensation, something I’d forgotten about in this afterlife, turns my stomach into a heaving knot. I would vomit now if I could. Corrine’s petite voice interrupts my anguish.

  “Can I go to my room for a while before Patrick gets home?”

  “Of course. You look tired. Try to rest. We still have to finish our excursion.”

  I open my eyes and see that Jules doesn’t follow Corrine.

  Can a person taste rising bile when they don’t have a body? Yes, yes they can.

  A door closes, and then Juliana stands up. She moves out of my line of sight.

  “So Travis, have anything to keep a girl entertained while her friend takes a little nap?”

  “I’m sure we can manage some form of entertainment for you, Night Siren.”

  A tinkling laugh escapes from Jules which sounds like her, and yet doesn’t sound like her. It is her voice, but it’s not a sound I’ve ever heard her make before.

  “Hmmm, I like that. What else will you call me?”

  “I can think of a few choice suggestions, but first let me have a look at you.”

  The laugh again. “I wondered if you would recognize me.”

  The bile that has risen now sinks to the pit of my stomach and churns with some unknown substance. The effect is unsettling to say the least. What happened to my Juliana?

  “It’s not bad. Quite the opposite really. I’m loving the change,” Juliana says.

  “It’s not as convenient though,” Travis says.

  “We’ll make it work. I’m starved. Think you can help a hungry girl out?”