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Requiem Page 11
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"No!" I wailed, reaching over Bex. I knew trying to escape from him grip was futile, but the explosion had happened less than a second after Jared had reached the stairs, and I was desperate to get to him.
I looked up to Jared's little brother. His eyes were wide. He clearly didn't know what to think. We waited there, and even though the fire roared before us, everything was silent.
I waited for Jared to emerge from the rubble. Every second that passed seemed like an eternity, and panic began to overwhelm any rational thought I tried to have.
"Come on, Jared," Bex said, his grip on my arms a bit tighter.
"Go get him," I demanded, my voice broken and shaking.
"I have to stay here with you," Bex said. He seemed confused and in shock.
I pushed at Bex. "He's in there somewhere! Go get him!" I screamed.
Bex grabbed each side of my face, looking deep into my eyes. "They are here, Nina. They're all around us. I can't leave you."
"Good kid," Jared said from behind us. His hair and clothes were singed, his face covered in soot, and the skin on his cheek bone was scraped and bleeding, but he was alive.
He held up two dusty picture frames; one with the black and white picture of me he took the day he fell in love with me, the other of us playing at the beach in Little Corn.
"Don't do that to me ever again!" I yelled, balling up my fists, and landing them straight into Jared's chest.
He wrapped his arms around me tightly. "I'm sorry. I realized what was about to happen, and I had to go. These pictures were the only things in the loft I couldn't lose."
We turned to watch at our home fall in defeat to the fire. The beams creaked as they gave way, and glowing ash was thrown into the sky, floating all around us. My eyes poured out rivers of tears. I'd never realized how much I loved the loft until I witnessed it dying in front of me. Memories of our first date, listening to our song for the first time, cooking together, laughing, watching Claire and Bex grow a little more each time they entered the front door. It was all gone; reduced to cinders.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
"We have to go," Jared said, gently escorting me to the passenger side of the Escalade.
As he pulled away, I watched the flames and glowing smoke until I couldn't see them anymore, and then turned to face forward. Jared placed his hand over mine, and then Bex put his hand over ours.
"It had to be Donovan," Bex said.
I shook my head. "No. Claire took care of all the humans that might be a threat to us."
"Except Donovan," Jared said. His knuckles turned white against the steering wheel.
Bex leaned back in the seat. "He's the closest human to Shax. Claire left him alive because he's the Taleh of a Half-breed."
"What?" I said, looking to Jared for confirmation.
He nodded. "Isaac. Very fast, very strong, but emotional. He's been known to make mistakes, but he's still dangerous."
I blinked, processing what Jared had said. "So to kill Donovan we'd have to kill a Hybrid."
"Not just any Hybrid," Bex said. "The son of Michael. An angel in the Holy Army. A warrior of God. At His word, they would exterminate entire blood lines, entire kingdoms."
I laughed once. "You're joking."
"No," Jared said, pulling the Escalade down a road leading us out of town. "Michael belongs to a family of angels that embodies God's Wrath, and if harm came to his son, that would be an act of war against Heaven. That is the only reason Donovan is still alive."
The Escalade bounced over the uneven gravel road, and Jared came to a stop just outside a familiar chain-link fence. We walked hand-in-hand to the Warehouse where I met Eli. Jared pushed the button and we waited. Nothing.
"I thought you said he wouldn't speak to you?" I asked.
Jared stood silent, patient, and calm. Twenty long minutes passed, and then we were finally buzzed in. The breath Jared had silently held, he released. "Thank you," he whispered.
Bex led the way through the dusty, cement hall. My footsteps echoed throughout the capacious room the hall opened up to, encased by a hundred dirty windows.
As before, we waited in the center.
Jared's and Bex's faces were marked by soot from the fire. Their expressions were composed, waiting for Eli to decide to show himself.
An hour passed, and still we waited. Jared slid his arms from his jacket and hung it on my shoulders. I hadn't even noticed the cold, but once the added heat was around me, I shivered.
"Patience," Jared said. His words could have been directed at me or at Bex, I wasn't sure.
After another hour, the columns of glass were ignited by the rising sun. Rays of white pierced through, illuminating the elegantly floating dust motes in its path. Glowing yellow squares infringed upon the shadows, and soon the entire floor glowed and warmed with the glorious grace of morning light.
"Nina," a voice called from across the room. Eli walked toward us, his eyes focused only on me. He was dressed in the same attire he wore the last time we met: The crisp, white shirt, the jeans and sandals, and the spiky blonde hair. He made a click noise with his tongue. "You aren't getting enough rest."
"But you knew that," I smiled sleepily.
One corner of his mouth turned up, but it wasn't quite a smile. "I'm sorry, Cupcake. I haven't been much help."
"Can you help us now?" Jared asked.
"We would love to, Jared. We've been instructed not to," Eli said. Compassion was in his eyes, but not apology.
"But...why?" Bex asked, genuinely confused.
Jared watched Eli for a moment, and then frowned. "They won't intervene unless The Balance is disturbed."
Eli reached his hand to me, and I took it. He pulled me into him gently. He towered over me, and I felt like a child wrapped in his arms. Emotion overwhelmed me, and I let myself tremble and weep unreservedly in the quiet sanctuary of his embrace. Jared's hand touched my shoulder; Bex's smaller hand touched my back. A sob that had been hiding somewhere deep within me found its way to the surface.
It felt good to cry. I had just seen my father for the first time since his death. The pressure and horror of being the center of a story Hell took very seriously, and now hearing that Heaven was unwilling to help, hope was dwindling. Crying was a sweet release, and in Eli's arms, it was natural, much like a tearful moment in my father's lap when I was hurt or frightened.
Eli released me, and tenderly grasped a lock of my hair. "You have grieved for your former life, Nina Grey. It is time to rise up as the woman you are: Strong, determined," he smiled, "and stubborn." He walked away from us, looking at the sky through the windows. "Humans see life as so precious when it's fleeting. Add in the defensive instincts of a mother, and you're nearly unstoppable, even in your fragile shell. It's more inspiring each time I see it."
"You know she's not pregnant," Jared said.
"Yet," Eli said, turning with a knowing smile. "Let us visit again when the time is right. At the time when you have no more questions to ask but one."
"What question is that?" I asked, but he was gone. "Damn it."
"We need to get Nina back," Jared said.
"Back to where, Jared? Did you forget your house is toast?" Bex said.
I shook my head, still in disbelief. Jared enveloped me in his arms, warmer and even more inviting than Eli's.
"You have three choices, Nina: Cynthia's, Lillian's, or Kim's."
"Kim's?" I sneered. "Even if I did still consider her my friend, I have no desire to live in the dorms again."
Jared grimaced. "She's the safest, option, Nina, and yes, she's still your friend."
"Why is she the safest?" I asked.
Bex grinned. "They don't mess with her. She's like bug spray."
I smiled. "She would hate that if she heard you."
Bex pulled a gun from the back of his jeans and scratched his head with the barrel. "Okay. Where to, then?"
"I still have things at Cynthia's. We'll go there," I said, taking in a deep breath. Lu
ckily, Cynthia was consistently busy with charities, so she would be out and about more often than not.
"You'll go there," Jared said.
My mouth fell open. "I'm not going anywhere without you. You told me once you couldn't go back to that, again. What happened to that?"
"It's not my first choice, I assure you," he said, an uncomfortable grin twisting his mouth.
"It's my house, Jared. You're coming," I said. I looked at Bex, then. "And there's a room for you, too."
"I have a room, thanks," Bex said.
"Nina," Jared began.
I held up my hand. "If you make me go to that house alone, I will spend all of my time in Jack's office. I'll move my bed in there. I swear to God."
Jared had once told me that Jack's office was the only room in my parents' home that wasn't wired with microphones or cameras. Jared could still hear me, of course, but having to guess what I was doing drove him crazy.
Jared smiled. "Don't swear at Him. We need Him on our side."
I frowned. "You know what I mean."
He sighed. "Cynthia's it is, then."
Chapter Nine
Killing the Messenger
Nothing goes as planned. People say goodbye. Buildings burn, and the impossibility of moving back in with Cynthia Grey after the age of eighteen can actually happen.
As I stood before the colossal home my father left to me after his death, I felt a bit nauseous at the prospect of walking its halls everyday again. Some of my best and worst memories happened within those walls: Jack chasing me down the halls, cooking my first meal, my father dying before my eyes, and everything I thought he was slipping away as I read a hidden file on the second floor.
But it was still home.
The gravel crunched beneath my feet as Jared walked me up the steps to the front door. The sun had hidden behind the thick clouds that were quickly moving in, and the air smelled like a mixture of winter and spring.
I took a deep breath and let it out as the wind blew the blonde strands of my hair against my cheek. "I'm going to get unpacked and organized. I have to go into Titan before they think I've defected."
Jared tossed the keys to Bex. "Update Mom and Claire. I need you back here at six thirty."
Bex nodded once. "You got it."
The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as we walked in, and Cynthia's heals signaled her approach. She stopped suddenly in the foyer.
"Oh! You startled me. Really, Nina, you could at least call if you're going to visit so early."
"We're not visiting. We're moving in," I said, making my way up the stairs.
Cynthia rushed to the first step, looking up at us. "What on earth are you talking about?"
Jared turned to face her. "Donovan set explosives in the loft. Everything except what's in our bags is gone."
Cynthia paused for a moment, a common tactic of hers to calm her voice before she spoke when she was angry or taken off-guard. "Well. I'm glad Nina's safe. How long will you be staying?"
"Indefinitely," I said.
I had reached the top before she spoke again.
"You're filthy," she snapped, her heels clicking to the kitchen.
I smiled. She was always snippy when she didn't want to show emotion--the soft sort.
Trying to find a professional ensemble from my high school wardrobe was nothing short of frustrating. It was then that it hit me that all of my belongings were gone. Everything Jared and I had purchased together, the bed we shared...the downstairs tub. Different items in the loft flickered through my mind. It was strange how each of them, however insignificant they used to seem, were attached to a memory.
Tears pooled in my eyes and escaped down my cheek. I wiped them away and groaned. "I have nothing to wear! What was I thinking buying this crap?" I yelled. "Not a single pair of pumps matches anything in my closet!"
Jared sat on the end of bed, letting me express my anger and frustration with an understanding expression. After the rage-fueled tirade to find the right pair of shoes, I rode with Jared to Titan Mercantile.
We didn't speak for most of the trip. Jared kept his eyes on the road, no doubt formulating a plan for the next step in finding the book. I was too tired to initiate conversation, or to try to find out piece by piece what plan of action he was considering.
"See you soon," Jared smiled.
I kissed his cheek, and then stepped out onto the curb, looking back once more before pushing through the entrance doors.
Beth waited me for me in my office, already organizing my call list in order of importance.
"And don't forget the conference with the Japanese firm at nine," she said, her head down.
"I've told you a million times, Beth. Yawatahama. It's not that hard if you practice."
Beth raised her hands in frustration and then dropped them, letting the papers in her hands slap her thighs. "I sound ridiculous," she said. "Sasha laughs at me every time I try."
"Oh, to hell with Sasha. Ask her to say something German. She sounds like a bloated mule."
Beth laughed out loud, surprised at my mood. "You're not sleeping again, are you?"
Two quick knocks, and then Grant opened my office door wide, keeping his hand on the knob. "The prodigal daughter returns! How was your trip?"
"Great, Grant. I'm busy, what do you need?" I said, putting the phone to my ear.
His expression screwed, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "The Bainbridge group will be here in twenty minutes, Nina. Why didn't you just wear pajamas?"
From collarbone to scalp, the burn of infuriation ignited my face in what I was sure was a beautiful shade of tomato red. My outstretched arm, with a rigid, pointed finger at the end, silently warned Grant to leave.
"Back away slowly, Mr. Bristol. No sudden movements," Beth said.
Grant nodded, stepping backward until he was out of sight.
Beth placed a small bag on my desk. "Foundation, blush, mascara and gloss. Get it on. I'll meet you downstairs in fifteen."
She closed the door softly behind her, and I took a deep breath. Just get through the day, I thought.
My cell phone rang once. "Not now, Jared," I said aloud, knowing he could hear. The second ring cut short. "Thank you," I whispered. I opened the compact from Beth's bag, and looked at myself in the mirror. "Holy Banshee, Nina! Get yourself together!" I said to myself.
Sasha stood next to the coffeemaker in the meeting room. "Miss Grey," she said handing me a fresh, steaming mug.
"Thanks," I said, frowning with confusion at her polar disposition. Wondering what she was up to was not on my agenda for the morning, not to mention I didn't have the time or patience for it. That wouldn't stop me from finding out, however.
The meeting went smoothly, and then I returned to my office, opening the door long enough for Beth to follow me through. I turned to see Grant and Sasha just behind her, but I shut the door. "Not now," I said flatly.
"Okay, Nina. Totally unprofessional," Sasha said, half laughing, half surprised.
Beth watched the door for a moment in shock, and then turned to me. "What the heck's going on with you?" she asked. "And what's that smell? Have you been...camping?" she said, sniffing once.
I puffed, blowing my bangs from my face. "No. The loft is gone. Burned to the ground."
"What?" Beth yelped.
"Keep it down. I don't need a bunch of sympathetic well wishers in and out of my office all day. Do me a favor?"
"Sure, Honey, anything."
I pulled a black credit card from my purse and handed it to her. "Go shopping for me. I need work clothes mainly, and undergarments, and a new briefcase. Makeup. You know what I use. And," I looked down, "I want a pair of those," I said, nodding to her pink satin pumps. Even in my foul mood, I couldn't stop admiring the black lace collar and bow at the toe.
Beth smiled. "Yes Ma'am. You need a place to stay?"
"I'm back at home."
"Yikes," Beth said, her mouth pulling to one side.
"Tell me abou
t it. And, Beth? If you can find anything to get the smoke out of my hair...get it. I don't care how much it costs."
"Lemon juice," she said. "Then wash it out with shampoo. That's what I do after I visit my Uncle."
I nodded. "Thanks."
Beth shut the door, and then I heard a scuffle.
"I said no!" Beth said, stumbling back against the door.
Sasha pushed her way through, and then smiled, smoothing her blazer and hair. "Nina. I need to talk to you."
Beth stared at Sasha as if she'd gone insane.
"Nina," Sasha said with a smile, breathing hard from her scuffle with Beth. "It will just take a minute."
"It's okay, Beth," I said, motioning for Sasha to sit.
Beth narrowed her eyes. "Maybe for you, but if I wasn't at work I would have kicked her bony little ass," she said through her teeth, slamming the door.
"Well," Sasha said, settling in the seat. "So much for southerners having manners.
"Keep in mind Beth holds grudges," I said, thumbing through papers on my desk.
"What do you mean? She's...southern." She said the word with disdain. I could see in her eyes that at least five generations of Eastern audacity had blinded her to how tacky she sounded.
I looked up. "Yes, well...they're polite. That doesn't mean you can't make an enemy out of them."
"Oh," Sasha said, looking back to the door nervously. "I...er...Grant wanted me to ask you about the Christmas party."
I raised an eyebrow. "I have faxes coming out of my ears, and you're shoving your way into my office to talk about finger foods? Don't waste my time."
"No, no...." she fidgeted. "I wanted your permission to chair it this year. I was hoping we could make it into more of a ball."
"A ball," I deadpanned.
Sasha smiled widely. "Yes."
I waved her away. "Check with Jessica on the second floor about the budget. Stay within parameters, and personally, Sasha, I couldn't care less."
Sasha's strained smile barely lasted until she reached the hall.
The rest of the day passed without event, or maybe it was because no one dared to approach with me with anything less urgent than my office being on fire. The consequential spunk the insufficient sleep had graced me with was working. I hadn't enjoyed Titan that much since I moved into Jack's office.