Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:
By the time I reached the house I was soaked. I pictured myself walking in like a wet cat, with my make up on verge of smearing, my hair flat as a pancake, and my heavy clothes clinging to my chilled skin. It occurred to me that it would have been a good idea to bring an umbrella, but I enjoyed the rain too much, no matter the aftermath. I stepped inside, cringing when the rubber soles of my shoes squealed against the floor. Unsure of what to do at this point, I stood in the foyer and looked around. As far as I could tell, there was nobody home.
“Hello?” I called tentatively, but there was no answer. I stood there for another minute, but still no one appeared.
I didn't like this new development, and I felt too stubborn to give up now. I decided that I would wait for them to show up, and take advantage of the time to look around a little more.
I stepped under the bridge of the second floor, seeking the large mysterious room to explore. I was surprised when I noticed a hallway branching off to my right, one that had previously been obscured by the stairs. It wasn't easy to see in the dim light, but I did make out the form of a carousel horse resting against one wall of the hallway. It wasn't a cheap plastic one, but wooden, hand painted and decorated with bits of real glass that glittered in the darkness. It stared at me through beady black glass eyes, discomforting enough to draw me away. I continued forward and stepped down into a living room type area. I made out the back wall of the house now. The portion backing this particular room was dominated by a massive two story window invisible behind a heavy velvet drape. Most of the light in the room was the little that escaped around its edges. I tried to recall what was behind the house as far as I had been able to see from the street, but only came up with a large fenced off yard. Whatever was back there was hidden from view from the outside world, and there wasn't a back door within sight. I considered trying to peek behind the drapery, but there was an ornate couch that I would have to kneel on in order to reach it and I didn't dare get it wet.
There were two more chairs in the living area, ornate Victorian ones like the couch. They all had the same worn red velvet upholstery and carefully carved wooden frames. A rug underfoot carpeted the area, matching the furniture with an intricate design and surprisingly rich colors for its age. And opposite the couch in a corner all its own was a beautiful grand the likes of which I had never seen.
It was obviously an antique, covered in panels of ornate carved wood and stained to a rich dark brown. It looked like the sort of instrument that belonged in a king's palace, not an old, run down house like this. I couldn't resist at least listening to it. There was nothing better than a beautiful acoustic piano with a rich tone. I moved over to sit on the bench and gently lifted the lid from the keys, which, I observed, looked like real ivory. I tapped middle C a few times, then slowly and carefully went up and down a standard scale. Surprisingly, it sounded like it was in tune. The lid over the strings was propped up, so I watched in smitten awe as the hammers struck each respective string, emitting a clear, cool note. I let my fingers wander gently over each note on the keyboard, starting with the lowest and richest, and ending with the highest and the clearest. The sound was so beautiful, I didn't want to ever leave it alone. Next I started playing a slow, bitter song that I had written with Amelia in Seattle. It sounded so much better on this lord of instruments, I just couldn't resist adding the lyrics to the song. It was story about taking a walk in autumn, and two people in love as they shared a first kiss. However, as soon as I reached the chorus, I froze, my fingers hovering in mid air over the next notes. I felt an empty, gaping sadness as memories played in my head.
“Why have you stopped?” I wasn't surprised to hear the deep voice of the dark one. Where could he have been but here? Still, knowing that I wasn't alone brought the pain even closer to my heart.
“Because Amelia isn't here to sing the harmony.”
It took me a moment of sitting there with the pressing silence and my hands perched over the keys to realize that warm, salty tears had replaced the colder droplets of rain on my face. There wasn't much in Seattle that I missed, but Amelia was the worst of it all.
When I felt his warm arm wrap itself around my body from beside me on the bench, I realized how cold I was and pressed myself against his warmth. I didn't care that I hardly knew him, I buried my face into his chest and let the tears come. It was only a minute before the tears stopped and I managed to compose myself a little, but it still felt like far too long. There was a twinge of guilt in the back of my mind for putting someone through this who probably didn't care, but he had presented himself and I had accepted without question. When I finally pulled back, I tried to avoid eye contact.
“I'm sorry,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. “I've had kind of a... sentimental day, and I guess the music just got to me.”
His free hand lifted up and his warm thumb smoothed itself over my cheek, wiping at the mixture of tears and black make up. He then patiently moved to the other cheek, repeating the procedure. “It is alright,” he finally replied. “I do not mind.”
I felt terribly embarrassed, but the tone of his voice sounded sincere. At last I ventured to look at his face, and I realized that I had never seen him so close before. I was near enough to take in the small details, like the pattern of his pores and the oil of his skin. Immediately I was drawn to his eyes; they were exotic in their shape, which was punctuated by the glittering, flecked gold of his irises. I was intrigued, and wanted to see more, but the scarf obscured the rest of his face.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked, and I noticed that I had furrowed my brow. Rather than reply, I simply pulled the scarf down from his face, and was pleased with what I saw. Despite his oddity, he was handsome.
For a moment he was surprised by my move, but then a hint of humor pulled at his lips. “Why have you returned, Cleo? I was certain that you would be too terrified of us to ever come back.”
“I...” I hesitated, not sure how to word everything that I wanted to say. “I just... I wanted to apologize. I know that I've been a lot of trouble lately for all of you, and I shouldn't have stuck my nose in your business. Last night especially... I sort of freaked out a lot more than I had the right to, and you guys didn't deserve my craziness.” I bit my lip and hoped that he would say something, but he was digesting my words, so I continued to explain. “Back in Seattle, a couple of years ago, I had this boyfriend. He was too old for me, and he did a lot of things he shouldn't have done. I did a pretty good job not getting dragged into it with him, but it had its price. He got angry at me a lot. Sometimes...” I stopped for a long moment, and decided to let the sentence hang. “Last night when I saw Reba on the floor, it brought back some memories that I didn't want to face. It brought back a lot of pain, and I was a little delirious from lack of sleep and the cut in my foot, and all the anger that I took out on you, well... you didn't deserve it.”
When I finished and met his gaze again, I was surprised to find sympathy waiting for me. His eyes carefully scanned my face, and it didn't take long for me to feel awkward.
“Please say something,” I said with a cringe.
“Cleo,” he said, brushing his hand along my face and tucking my wet hair behind my ear. “You have absolutely no need to apologize. Quite frankly, you are the most fun that any of us have had in years.”
I was stunned for a moment, but then a small, disbelieving laugh escaped my throat. “What? You... you don't think I'm annoying or... or crazy?”
His lips slowly parted to a grin and he shook his head. I noticed that his teeth were well taken care of, but it almost looked like he had a set of fangs growing. They were twice as long as the rest of the teeth, and particularly pointed. The grin faded quickly, however, and I knew that he must have noticed my glance.
“What's your name?”
“Djibaaji.”
“Jee-bah-jee.”
“Close enough.”
“Djibaaji,” I began, turning my body to face him on the piano bench. “Will you tell me the truth about something?”
He considered the question for a moment before giving me a gentle answer. “I would never lie to you, Cleo.”
“What are you?”
He paused, and I saw his gaze wander down my body and back up again. However, it wasn't the same smoldering, lustful look Dante had had in his eye when he'd looked me over. I didn't know the thoughts running through Djibaaji's head at that moment, but I got the feeling that it was more of an evaluating glance. “I am a demon.”
“A demon. Like, from hell.”
He cocked his head slightly, considering. “It is somewhat more complicated than that, but yes.”
“Complicated how?” I pressed.
He sighed and stared at me, and I knew that he didn't want to continue, but he did anyway. “Thousands of years ago, the war in heaven separated its inhabitants into two factions. One was the angels, and the other was the fallen angels that became demons. Things were clearly cut in those days. An angel was good, a demon was evil. But the passage of time and generations changes even the hearts of those that time should not be able to touch. In recent years, there are more and more angels cast out of heaven and demons cast out of hell. There are fallen angels and demons who seek to do good. I am one of those who have been cast out for betraying my blood.”
“That's complicated.” I took the liberty of summarizing for him.
“I would not want you to think that I could ever mean you any harm.”
I looked him over, the first bona fide demon that I had ever met. “Well, that explains why it looks like you haven't been shopping in a while. What about Felix and...?”
“Felix and Cain? Felix is of angelic descent, and Cain is human, like yourself. However, he is no ordinary human. He is a mage.”
“A mage.”
“He is capable of performing magic of a very powerful nature.”
“Sure. Right. Of course.” I furrowed my brow and stood up, stepping away from the piano bench. “If that's true, then why are you willing to tell me this?”
“You are particularly strong willed, Cleo. I am comfortable divulging this to you because in my opinion, even if I did not, you would find some way of learning it anyway.”
Strong willed. That was a good way to phrase numb-skulled. “Good thinking,” I said. I turned around with a grin, but was startled to find him closer behind me than I had expected. I was humbled by the sight of him standing directly in front of me- he was taller than I had thought before. As I fought the urge to shrink away from his imposing figure, he reached up and cupped my face in his hand. The long nails of his fingers rested softly against the flesh of my cheek, and he bent down to bring his face much closer to mine. I wasn't sure what he was going to do. And I never found out, because at the moment that his eyes had just begun to delve into mine, my phone went off in my pocket.
Startled, I jumped away from him and brought out the phone. It was Kennedy.
“Hey, my Biznatch. Reba filled me in on last night. You've got to be freaking kidding me. You guys burst into a house of hot creepers and you didn't tell me about it this morning? How dare you!”
“I... uh...” I put a hand to my head, trying to bring myself back to reality. “I was a little confused about it, and I don't think either of us really knew what to say.”
“Yeah, well, we're on our way to pick you up. Be ready to go in fifteen minutes.”
“Go where?”
“The house, duh. I wanna see this baby up close and personal!”
“I'm, ah, already there.”
“WHAT??” Kennedy's voice raised to such a decibel that I had to pull the phone away from my ear.
“Ow!”
“You went there without us?”
“I just wanted to figure some things out, and I didn't want to bother you guys with it.”
“Bother us? Chickadee, this is the most exciting thing that's happened in forever! We'll be over in five minutes.” Without giving me a chance to respond, she hung up, leaving me stunned.
“Do not let them come here,” Djibaaji said with a warning tone in their voice.
“Why not? If it's safe for me, then it's safe for them.”
“No, you are wrong. The magical world upon the Earth is a dangerous one, and one that is kept separated from the world of the mortals. The curtain cannot be broken from our side, only from yours. And once a mortal initiates themselves into this world, there is no taking it back.”
“Then I'm already initiated, and so is Reba.”
“But she is not,” Djibaaji answered, gesturing toward my phone.
“If you think I'm headstrong, you don't know Kennedy. We couldn't keep her out of this if we had the entire National Guard on our side.”
“Don't bother trying to convince her, Djibaaji,” came a voice from the passage that led to the front door. It was Cain. He stood there watching the two of us, and considering how oblivious I had been to his presence, he very well could have been there a while.
“I cannot willingly submit her and her friends to the dangers they will face if they are pulled into this,” Djibaaji said firmly, turning toward Cain and folding his arms.
“No matter what protective measures we take, they will all be initiated. Their fates demand it.” Cain moved toward me then, giving me a scrutinizing look. “Cleo Hellbusch, isn't it?”
“Yeah...?”
“Hmm.” And then again I got the appraising elevator eyes look. It was starting to bother me, actually, and from the look on Djibaaji's face, it was bothering him, too.
“You know, I think I'll go wait for the others,” I said, quickly extracting myself from the situation.

Chapter 6

Chapter Six:
In the morning when I woke up, Reba was sitting awake on the couch while Kennedy still danced in dreams with Batman. Reba was sipping a mug of coffee stolen from my kitchen, but I didn't begrudge it of her. She was probably feeling a lot of strange things right now. Looking at her, I tried to see things from her point of view. There had to be plenty of fear, confusion, anger... and of course, wondering if it had even been real.
Then I remembered the cut on my foot. With a wrenching feeling in my gut, I pulled my foot up to look at it. I cringed at the blood stained bandage wrapped around it, then tried to pull the edge aside to check on the cut. But I never found the cut. I had pulled the entire bandage off before I realized that the cut wasn't there.
“What's that from?” Reba asked, taking another sip of her coffee.
“I... uh... cut my foot on a piece of glass last night,” I answered, running my fingers along the smooth, perfectly healed skin.
“Really? When did you do that?”
“When I was looking for you,” I said, twisting to look up at her from the floor. She answered me with a puzzled expression.
“You... don't know what I'm talking about?” There was a moment of silence when understanding flashed in her eyes, but she looked hesitant to believe it. “Last night when you wandered off to the house, I followed you. Then Dante and Gabriel showed up, and Gabriel brought you back to the house.”
Reba froze for a long moment, staring at me. The mug sagged between her hands and I wondered briefly if she was going to drop it, but she kept her grip. “That never happened. I had a dream that I went to that house, but that was it. Just a dream.”
“Yeah? Well, let me guess a little bit of what it looked like, then. Big foyer up front, with two staircases coming down from a bridge that connects the second floor. Big empty room behind the bridge where you can't really see anything because it's always dark. Doorway to the left in front of the staircase. Umm... lots of old stuff from different eras. Dried flowers in the vases. Different aged pictures-”
“Alright, stop,” she said, holding out a hand and then bringing it up to pinch the bridge of her nose. “I don't remember it that well. I was only there a minute or two before they found me.”
“And then you passed out.”
“I didn't pass out. They did something...” She froze suddenly and looked up, as if abruptly remembering more. “It was the one with the... the wings. He did something.”
I searched everything that I knew about the house and the men that lived there so far, but I didn't recall anything with wings. “What do you mean? What one with the wings?”
“There were three men that just looked like normal people. Weird people, but people. And then there was a fourth one... he had gray hair and these big black wings. You know, like angel wings, but they were black.”
I remembered the figure I had seen at the top of the stairs. Human, but misshapen somehow. That had to have been him. The lumpiness of his body hadn't been a defect, it had been wings.
“Give me some of that coffee,” I said, reaching out.
Reba recoiled, refusing me any of the java goodness. “Get your own damn coffee,” she replied, the hint of a smile tugging at her face.
At least she could take it lightly. I smiled, feeling a bit of relief, then headed into the kitchen to throw away the old bandage and pour myself a mug of coffee. The storm that had blown in the night before was starting to pick up. The droplets of rain were small, but the wind was still strong and threw the water around in torrents.
“Don't you people believe in breakfast?” Kennedy shuffled in from the living room, staring at me as I watched the rain with my coffee.
“Not really,” I answered. “But make yourself at home. I'd love some if you wanna cook.” I gestured to the kitchen. “It's all yours.”
Kennedy heaved a sigh, looked around, then sighed again. “Just because I'm really hungry,” she said as she took a pan down from the hanger and lit the stove. “Eggs?”
I went to the refrigerator and got her some eggs, along with cheese, bacon, and instant biscuits.
“Mmm, breakfast,” Reba said as she joined us in the kitchen. “Kens, you're the best.”
“I know,” she answered, picking at the eggs with the spatula.
The three of us were relatively quiet over breakfast. We were all recovering from the party we'd had the night before, and Reba and I were trying to digest the events at the house. Every once in a while I had flashes of memory where I saw her lying on the floor and recalled bruises that had long since healed, but I pushed the thoughts away as they came. After breakfast, Reba and Kennedy decided to go home, Kennedy so that she could sleep some more and Reba because she needed some alone time, so I bid them goodbye. After they were gone, I cleaned up our entire mess- an uncommon ritual for me- and did some extra tidying up elsewhere. It was eleven o'clock, an hour later, when I found myself sick of cleaning, so I sat on the couch and watched the rain through the sliding glass door for a while. At some point during that time I came to a resolution, and had I thought about it for any length of time I would have immediately decided it was a stupid idea. However, I didn't want to let that happen, so I set about getting dressed before I could change my mind. It was a mechanical, unthinking process. I went through the motions and poured my concentration into them. I forced myself not to think, because I knew what it would do.
* * * * *
“You did not,” I protested disbelievingly. I was nine. I was at my home in Seattle, sitting at my piano with Amelia. We had decided that we were going to be the next sensational worldwide rock stars, but we had gotten distracted from our song writing by stories of bungee jumping.
“I did,” she answered smugly. “It was a one time thing, you know, the fair was only in town for a couple of days. So I wanted to do it while I had the chance.”
“What was it like?”
She grinned. “Totally terrifying. We got up there and I was second in line. I kept looking down and thinking that I was going to die. But the boy in front of me was a kid from school that picked on me all the time, and I couldn't let myself get scared out of it if he could do it.”
“So you just jumped? That's it?”
She shrugged. “Yeah. It got to me in line, and the longer I stood there the more I realized how scared I was. Then they started counting to three, and I kept thinking, 'Just jump, just jump, just jump'. It's one of those things that you have to do without letting your head get in the way, or else you won't be able to.”
“Wow. I don't know if I'll ever be able to do anything like that.”
* * * * *
As I got dressed that morning, the memory of the two of us at the piano kept playing through my mind. I was trying so hard not to think about what I was doing, so instead I focused on what she had told me. “Just jump,” I said to myself as I looked in the mirror. There was a moment where I felt fear curl up in the pit of my stomach, but I forced it away and reaffirmed my resolve. I didn't have the motivation to pick out a complicated outfit, so I went with a plain black shirt and jeans. It looked too plain, so I added a bright red plastic heart pendant, some red jelly bracelets, and a red headband. Yes, I was distracted and worried, but I couldn't let myself walk outside without being satisfied with what I was wearing. It was a habit that had been burned into me through my years of being a fashionista on the top of the high school food chain. Or, what all the other girls considered to be the top of the high school food chain.
Once I was done I stared into the mirror at my reflection, trying to see myself through their eyes. What was I to them? A pest? Some awkward teenage wannabe that just kept getting in trouble? If I was the girl I had been two years ago, some of that might have been true. But I had changed. Moving away from Seattle I had tried to cleanse myself of the life I had known there. Sometimes it really hurt missing what I had left behind, but I kept working at it. All I knew was that since leaving that place I had been so much happier. For the first time since I was a kid, I felt free. In Seattle it had been difficult for me to sleep without nightmares, unless Amelia was with me. She could make them go away. Now that I was here in Salt Lake, away from all the demons that had haunted me in that life, I hardly ever had those dreams.
I grabbed my bag and left my room, heading for the front door. When I reached the portal to the outside world, I once again stood in uneasy contemplation. Watching the rain usually did that to me. But this time, rather than worrying about what the others thought and falling back to my past, I found myself wondering about the future. What was going to happen now? Who were these people, and what were they going to do? I had a brief vision of myself sitting and laughing with all my friends in the house with the inhabitants there. It felt like a beautiful thing, and for a moment my heart wrenched with desire. But at the same time, I couldn't see it ever becoming a reality. Besides, in the scene I had pictured Amelia had been there, and I knew that wasn't ever going to happen.
Looking out at the rain that now fell in steady, heavy drops, I knew that something was going to happen. I could feel it coming like fate reaching out and placing its cold fingers on my spine. The sensation scared me a little, but I knew that I couldn't avoid it forever. There was no use being afraid of the future, because how could it be worse than the past? I wasn't that girl anymore, and as long as I didn't box myself into a trap, the present and future would be whatever I made it to be.
With this resolution firm in mind, I stepped out into the rain.

Chapter 5

Chapter Five:
During the night I woke up to a cold breeze flitting through the house. I thought it was strange, because we hadn’t opened any windows. The back door was shut tight. I furrowed my brow and stood up, groped through my purse for the small flashlight that I carried with me, then shone it around the house. First I double checked the windows. Then, as I was stepping over the others to check the front door, I realized something that made my heart contract with fear.
Reba wasn’t there.
Panicked, I moved into the hall, and I felt my stomach drop in dread as I saw the front door hanging open. I didn’t have to look around the house to know that that was where Reba had gone. Not caring that I had no shoes and it was freezing outside, I ran through the door and out into the frigid night. The darkness was stifling and when I cried her name the shouts were lost to the wind. I went further and further and still didn’t see her, so I headed toward the house across from the coffee shop. It was the only place she would have gone.
I ran down the sidewalk beside the empty street and fell to the cement as a sharp pain stabbed into my foot. When I looked to check, the glass from a shattered beer bottle had cut into the sole of my foot. At this point, the frightening house was closer than my house so I tentatively stood up and limped the rest of the way. It was painful and difficult, but after a few minutes, I was gingerly stepping up the stairs to the wraparound porch and the heavy wooden door. It was hanging open.
I pushed on the door and grew weak as it swung wide. Reba was laying motionless on the ground in the large foyer. I dropped to my knees and shook her. She wouldn’t wake up, so I checked her pulse. She was alive, and didn’t look injured. But seeing her there, laying on the ground, reminded me of my past in Seattle. It was a part of my past that I had suppressed and tried to forget, but it was brought forcefully back to my mind now.
“She fainted,” someone said. When I looked up, I saw that it was an older man, probably in his forties, with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a few days’ worth of stubble on his face. He looked tired; beyond lethargic, it was a tiredness that went deeper, as though he was tired of life itself.
“What happened?” I asked with tears in my eyes. I could hear that my voice was hysterical, but I didn’t care.
“What’s-” Felix’s voice appeared from a hallway upstairs. He stopped at the top of the landing when he saw me. “Cleo,” he said, sounding surprised.
Another figure followed him from the hallway, paused at the landing, then suddenly he was hurrying down the stairs. It was the man who had been here the first time I came. The older one put an arm out to bar his way.
“She is injured!” the mannequin man protested.
“Let me help her,” Felix offered, coming down the stairs.
“Don’t touch me!” I yelled at him, cradling Reba. He stopped on the stairs and the three of them stared.
“What the hell is wrong with you people?” I was aware when my voice was suddenly quiet and broken, but I didn’t care. I just wanted Reba to wake up.
There was a long, quiet moment when no one knew what to do. Suddenly, the door burst open again and in stormed Dante and Gabriel.
“Djibaaji!” Dante cried. His face spelled out fury like I hadn’t seen from him, and his knuckles were white clutching the silver top of his cane. Spotting me on the floor, Gabriel knelt and gently took Reba from me to check on her vitals. I huddled into a ball without her. A moment later I felt someone wrap their arms around me- I assumed it was Dante- and I collapsed against him. I hadn’t realized I was crying, but the fabric of his suit was wet.
“She’s alive and breathing, at least,” Gabriel said quietly.
“I already told Cleo,” the older man said, advancing with his hands held out to him like a dangerous animal. “She just fainted. She was a little surprised by what she saw, that's all.”
Gabriel furrowed his brow at the man, standing up. “If she had only passed out she would have woken up by now. Something knocked her unconscious.”
The other man cast a nervous glance up toward the shadowy hallway upstairs. As if taking a hint, Gabriel moved to converse quietly with the three that were standing there. I got the impression that he was asking them questions about Reba to see if she had suffered any injury, but I didn't really care to listen. I just stayed there with Dante, who was making comforting sounds as if I were a child. “It's alright, Cleo,” he said in a low, gentle voice. Then, with an even, calm tone, he asked, “What happened to your foot?”
I looked down at my foot. It was covered in blood and had pooled in a small puddle on the floor. The pain had become a constant stinging sensation from the moment the glass had entered my skin, and I had forgotten about it in the passion of the moment. “I stepped on some glass on the way over,” I answered, trying to wipe away some of the dampness from my face. He pulled a handkerchief from a pocket- an actual cloth one, which briefly surprised me- and handed it over.
“Cain, do you have a first aid kit?” Dante asked the older man on the stairs. His tone was even, carefully controlled.
“Yes,” Cain answered with a furrowed brow. He descended the stairs and moved under the bridge to the large room beyond, where he disappeared into darkness. A moment later, he returned with a small blue box that had a big red cross on the top. He moved to help Dante with it, but Dante snatched the box away from him, prompting Cain to move back to the stairs where he continued talking to Gabriel. Cain and Gabriel both looked frustrated, Felix was silently watching the two of them, and the dark one was watching Dante.
Dante carefully extracted a few things from the medical kit. “Let me see your foot,” he requested. I angled my body so that I could set my dirty foot in his lap- which in any other circumstance I might feel embarrassed about- and he put a steadying hand over the top. “This is going to hurt,” he told me apologetically. I felt him inspect the shard of glass, and after a moment he pulled it out quickly. I bit down hard on my lip, but didn't make a noise. I saw him get out an alcohol wipe to clean the wound- which stung horribly, but I still didn't let myself groan or cry- and after it was clean he wrapped a bandage around it. “Good girl,” he said with an attempt at a smile.
“Owwww...” I finally allowed myself a long, drawn out word of complaint. His smile briefly flickered in his eyes, then he stood up and walked over to the group on the stairs. Resigned to the idea that I probably wasn't going to hear what they were saying, I lay down on the floor and tried to think of something other than the pain. Like Reba. She was still passed out on the floor next to me, and I wondered if that was normal.
I looked over to the stairs as voices raised. Dante was a good actor- after all his calm dealing with me, he was furious again. The conversation Gabriel had been conducting with Cain had escalated. Suddenly Dante stood back and grabbed his cane as though he were going to break it in half- but instead of breaking it, he pulled on the handle and a gleaming sword came out of the base. He drew the weapon with a flourish and the others went silent, as shocked as I was. The dark one glanced over at me, and I realized I had sat up when Dante drew the sword. “We warned you,” Dante said.
Gabriel was the first one to move. He put his hand on Dante's shoulder and glanced over toward Reba and myself. “Now is not the time,” he said.
Dante followed his gaze, then dropped his eyes to the floor, as if he was suddenly ashamed. He slowly slid the sword back into its cane scabbard, and looked up at Cain, Felix, and the other one whose name was too difficult for me to remember. I could tell that there was communication in that look, but I couldn't see from this angle.
“Come on, Dante,” Gabriel said. He moved away from the stairs and gently lifted Reba off the ground. Without another word, he took her out the door. I didn't know where he was taking her, but somehow I trusted him. And I wasn't in a state to be worrying about what he might do.
There was a tense moment where Dante hesitated, then he moved to me and swept me up from the floor into his arms. I took another look at the house as he carried me out, and I noticed something on the opposite end of the bridge upstairs. It was a figure that almost appeared human, but it was misshapen somehow. I wasn't sure how long it had been there, but I hadn't noticed it there on previous visits to the house.
The trip home was silent. I clutched myself as tightly to Dante as I could, frozen, tired, and in pain. I felt guilty that he had to haul me all that way just because I had been too stupid to put on a pair of shoes before I ran out the door, but he didn't seem to mind. His face was stoical the entire way, but it was an easy silence, and held none of the tense anger that had been there before.
It felt like forever before we reached the house. When finally we did, he moved up the steps toward the door. “Dante,” I said, stopping him. “I... don't want to go inside yet...” It felt strange to return home after such an unusual experience. What had just happened was so unreal to me that I wasn't sure I'd believe it if I returned to normal life. Besides that, I was still unnerved from the memory of Reba's body on the floor, so much like myself two years ago.
Dante hesitated, then carried me back to the cement steps and gently set me down. Then he took off his jacket and positioned it around my shoulders.
Something moved in the darkness in front of the house, and I might have jumped were I not suddenly so exhausted. As the shadow came closer to the house, I saw that it was Gabriel. He gave a questioning look to Dante, and Dante gestured for him to go away. Gabriel had probably been waiting for them to return together. But on the motion from Dante, he turned without hesitation and made his way out of the neighborhood.
When Gabriel was out of sight, Dante sat beside me on the step and we remained silent for several minutes. I was shivering and exhausted and in terrible pain, but I didn't want to go into the house.
The wind only continued to pick up and in the dim light of the waxing moon, I could see the vague shapes of storm clouds being blown in. It looked like it would probably rain tomorrow. Apart from the wind and the clouds, everything was still. The leaves of trees shuddered with every gust that blew, and somewhere a few houses down a dog barked.
“Dante,” I finally managed to ask. He looked at me and we locked gazes for a moment. I mused on the fact that those crystalline blue eyes of his seemed to hold so many things. When we first met, they were smoldering and lustful; when he had burst into the house tonight, they had been fierce and held a torrent within their small orbs; now, as he looked at me, I saw only concern and gentle care. There was not lust, but a tentative love, as any parent might hold for the hurt child of a stranger.
Finally I broke the exchange and looked down to the cold cement. “What's going on?”
He sighed and didn't answer for a long time, to the point that I almost wondered if he wouldn't answer at all. “You don't want to know that, Cleo,” he told me.
I was willing to argue that point in my mind, but I didn't say anything. He moved to plant a kiss on my forehead, then picked me up again. “Time for bed, Cleo,” he said, then he carried me inside and laid me down where I had been sleeping before. I was out before he even put me down.