Part 3 (1/2)
Simon dropped the pen on his desk, stared at the letter he was writing to console yet another veteran's family. He rubbed his eyes, fighting the despair these letters always dredged up. Too many memories, too many friends he'd lost, both in war and on the force.
He thought entering the priesthood would help soften that grief. And for a while, it did. When he had been immersed in his religious studies, the real world faded into the background, along with the pain he carried. But once he was a.s.signed to his first church, life invaded, and he understood it would take more than prayer and solace to heal the wounds on his soul.
Time helped, and the care of people he respected. Claire and her friends had been a surprising addition to his life. But his connection to them led him here, to Santa Luna, and a congregation that not only listened but supported him. Even after learning about his past, his ability to see power.
Pus.h.i.+ng to his feet, he went in search of coffee, and a break from his task, to ease the weight of the grief. The time on the kitchen clock surprised him; it had been more than an hour since Claire stopped by. She usually called when she was done, and she didn't expect this job to be an actual haunting.
Simon pulled out his cell and tapped in her number. It rang once-then static poured out of the phone.
He jerked it away from his ear. And dropped it when the static began to form words. In Latin.
”G.o.d-what did you walk into this time, Claire?”
Simon grabbed his car keys, the duffle he always kept beside the door and ran for his car.
Claire backed away from the figure, the shotgun at her side, looking as harmless as possible.
”What do you want with a child? Did she ask for your help?”
He paced her, step for step, the black s.h.i.+rt and trousers setting off his height, his shoulder length golden brown hair. His bare feet made no sound on the old oak floor, where Claire made each wide plank squeak with her weight. Rage surrounded him like a gathering storm.
”You question my presence?”
”I question you scaring the h.e.l.l out of a little girl, telling her that you want her life-”
”I meant nothing of the sort. I want-” He swung away from her, hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. Claire took the opportunity to move as fast as she could to the stairway, gripping the banister just as he turned back to her. ”No-you will not leave my sight.”
”I only need to make sure my friends are safe-”
”You dare accuse-”
”Since you've already frightened a child, and sent her mother searching for help, yes, I accuse. But I will also listen, once I know they are all right.” White light flared from his mark, and she froze. ”There is no way for me to leave from the second floor.” She kept her voice even, low, wanting to soothe the rage that poured off him. ”Let me see them. Please.”
She jumped when his fist slammed into the wall beside her. After an endless moment he stepped back, blue eyes fierce. ”Go. Try anything, and I will hurt whoever I have to in order to regain your cooperation.”
Nodding, Claire limped up the stairs, careful to keep the shotgun lowered until she was out of sight. She almost collided with Annie as she rounded the corner.
”G.o.d above-”
”Are you okay?” Annie grabbed her shoulders, narrowed brown eyes studying every inch. ”He didn't-”
”You were listening.”
”d.a.m.n straight. I wasn't going to let him touch you without suffering for it.”
”Annie . . . thank you, for wanting to cover my back. Now I need you to help me get Regina and Hillary out of here.”
The grip on her shoulders tightened. ”What are you-”
”I'm going to distract him. I want you to take them out of here while I do.”
”d.a.m.n it, Claire-I am not leaving you-”
”Yes, you are. They are more important. And he won't hurt me.”
”How do you know that?”
”He's a guardian, Annie. A guardian angel. If he harms any mortal, he is punished. Severely. Their mission is to help, to guide, not to do harm.”
Annie let her go, paced across the hall before spinning back to her. ”What about his threat-wanting Hillary's life? Wanting to live her life? Does that sound like the gentle request of a guardian angel? I won't leave you with him.”
”You will. Get them out, Annie. Please.” Claire touched her wrist. ”There's something wrong here, something I can't pin down yet. But he is angry, enough that he may lash out before he can control it. I won't have them hurt by him. And I won't have him face punishment for it, when I can avoid the situation.”
”d.a.m.n.” She let out a breath. ”Fine. But if you don't follow us out in a timely manner, I am coming back for you. No argument.”
”None given. The less time I spend with him, the safer.”
”Oh, G.o.d-does he know-”
”Not yet. And I plan to keep him from finding out. He already feels a-difference, with me. I don't want to give him time to pursue it. Now,” she rubbed the bridge of her nose. ”Go ready them, and let's do this.”
Claire left the shotgun with Annie, knowing now it would do no good, and simply inflame the guardian's already unstable temper. He waited for her at the bottom of the stairs, arms crossed, fear and a desperate need layered over the anger.
”Is she-” His voice lowered, fear edging out the anger. ”I did not harm Hillary. I only want-”
”She is frightened, and confused.” Claire moved past him, careful to keep her distance. ”And so am I.” Stepping down into the living room, she slowly backed away from the staircase, as if she were retreating. Her goal was the doorway behind her, which she hoped led deeper into the house. ”Why did you choose Hillary? You had to know you would terrify her by what you're doing. And no matter how badly you want it, or how much you threaten, it isn't possible for you to have her life.”
”Her pain drew me. I understood her need to be free of it.” Just as she hoped, he followed her across the room. ”It is not her life I want. I want to live, to escape the bonds of being caught Between. I have been there for so long, and it seems as if all the good I do means nothing to them.”
”You had a life.” Claire softened her voice, knowing she tread on shaky ground. ”How you chose to live that life is the reason you ended up Between. There will be forgiveness, when whatever debt you have has been paid-”
”It will never be paid!” He raised his fists toward the ceiling, an angry prayer. ”They will never free me, never forgive what sins they believe I have committed.”
Claire saw movement behind him, kept her focus on him, drawing his attention back to her. ”What is your name?”
Panic skated across his face. ”Why is that important? I will have whatever name I choose, once I have my life. You do not need to know-”
”I would like to call you something other than *hey, you.' If that's all right.” She smiled, tried to keep her voice light. ”You don't have to give me your real name-”
”Zach.” He whispered the name, as if saying it out loud defied the forces he blamed for his confinement. ”My name is Zach.”
”It's a pleasure, Zach. My name is Claire.” She held out her hand, wanting to lure him closer, away from the staircase-where she could now see Annie, keeping herself in front of Hillary, Regina just behind her, as they crept down, step by step. ”It is considered polite to shake someone's hand when you meet them.”
”You think I don't know that? I have been among you mortals for-”