Broken Faith: Spiritual Discord, 1 Page 7

  “After I killed the hound, I started running. Well, more like stumbling and crawling. I knew others would be coming and in the shape I’m in, I knew fighting another one would end with my death. I had to escape. But my injuries were so great that I did not make it that far. That’s when Sabrina found me. She brought me here, temporarily, to heal.”

  “So, you’re a fallen angel running from hell hounds out to kill you. She,” I point at Sabrina, “is a vampire, created from one of Lucifer’s blood children and also running from the hell hounds and also the angels, but not you. Do I have that right?”

  “Yes.” Kayson confirms with a little worry. I’m sure he hears the lingering disbelief in my voice.

  “And your blood is gold because you’re an angel. Even though you’re a fallen angel.”

  “That’s correct.” There’s a flicker of hope on his face. I’m about to squash that like a bug.

  Maybe Sabrina can sense I’m about to leave. She stands and walks by. I figure she’s going to try snacking on my neck again, but she shoves me to one side as she walks to the door.

  “If you don’t believe him, then believe this.”

  She thrusts her exposed arm out into the sun. Immediately it starts to burn. Her skin turns black as smoke rises up from the exposure. Pulling back her arm, she opens her eyes. They are blood red. Then I notice her fangs are extended.

  “Believe us now?”

  I watch in shock, my heart hammering, as Sabrina’s skin starts to heal. What the? Finding my voice, with no argument to be had, I scream.

  Chapter Seven

  Falon

  I walk through the streets of this quaint little town, disgusted. Disgust always filtered through my body when I look at the perfectly-trimmed houses with their pretty rows of flowers, surrounding the happy glow that comes from inside the home. Where is the trash, the black linings, the hidden anger?

  Emery flanks my right, sniffing the air. “The trail is everywhere but it ends in the same spot. Behind this house.”

  “Do some more scouting. Go to the police station. If any strange activity has happened in the last few hours, they will be talking, especially in a small town.”

  Emery gives a slight bow before jogging away.

  I turn back to the house. A low growl rumbles through my chest at the force of love emanating from the area. I wasn’t created to love. I was created to destroy love. Once, I was devoted to Him, and His cause. But I soon learned the errors of my thoughts and am happier for it. Turning my back was the best feeling in the world. To go against the rules and cause destruction, well, there is no better high than that.

  Evren approaches me from the shadows of a tree with a low bow. “I believe this is the place too. What would you like me to do?” I give Evren a skeptical look. Could I trust him to not cause a ruckus until one needed to be made? According to past history, I highly doubt it.

  Better to give him a low profile task. “I want you to find out who lives here. I want their history, everything.” Evren bows again before slinking back into the trees.

  Time to find my lookout post. I am going to do my own surveillance. I just need a quite low-key spot to hide. I smile as an old lady comes out of her house to water her flowers. Right next door should do. I straighten my shoulders, and with the confidence I carry with me everywhere I go, I approach the little lady.

  “Excuse me, can I use your phone?” I give the lady a sweet enticing smile; one her loving husband gave her years ago. I know the ways into a person’s soul, and where it can all go wrong.

  It doesn’t take her long to give in to the smile. “Sure. Come on in.” She opens the door to her home with open arms. I smile back at the lady. If she only knew of the hell she is allowing into her home.

  Chapter Eight

  Emma

  I sit up in my old room, hugging my teddy bear for comfort. After freaking out in the shed, I left, came upstairs, and have been sitting up here in shock, staring out the window. How could this be happening? I didn’t believe in this stuff. This was for movies and books, not real life.

  I watch the sun start to descend against the horizon, continuing to ask myself how? Just how? The same question keeps running through my mind as I watch the world spin into darkness.

  I left the shed both convinced and unconvinced. I didn’t know what to think. The evidence is there but in my mind it isn’t there. Sure, Kayson had showed me his scars on his back, but those could be injuries from anything. I had seen Sabrina’s skin catch on fire, but what if that wasn’t real either. What if that was just an illusion? Her fangs and eyes could be contact lenses and implants or something. Yet, no matter how much I deny it, the fear of it being real, and the feeling it is real, lingers in my thoughts, making my body shake.

  It wasn’t easy for me to agree to let them stay. I wanted them to leave and take the crazy with them. But when I went to tell Kayson he had to go elsewhere, I stopped. Guilt had set in on me as I stood before him, looking down at his bandaged, banged up body. If it was true, what would my family and friends think of me if I turned away an angel, even if said angel is fallen? What would his creator think? He was in obvious pain with no other options for the time being. Making the decision I was sure I would regret, I told them they could stay but that they needed to find another place to stay for the long-term. Before leaving the shed, I told Kayson I would be back to check on his injuries. Sabrina had scoffed at me. It was very clear I was not her favorite person. But what did she expect? That I would open my arms up, welcoming them for busting into my parents’ property then feeding me crap stories?

  The sound of my phone ringing makes me jump. My thoughts scatter through my mind as I look over at the nightstand where my phone sits. I’m so on edge right now every creak sends a jolt through my body. When I pick up the phone and see it’s Briston, I sigh. Crap, I forgot we are supposed to meet.

  “I’m so sorry,” I try to make the apology sound sincere but even I can tell it sounds forced.

  “What happened?” Briston knows I would never ditch him without calling unless something major happened. I’m hoping just this once he won’t see through my lies.

  “Oh nothing, really. I fell asleep after watering my mother’s ten-acre garden. I swear that woman has an obsession.” I cross my fingers hoping he buys it.

  “Who are you talking to Emma because I know it’s not me. Now come on, what’s going on?”

  I knew it. I knew lying to Briston was a waste of time. I am going to have to get better at that if things are going to continue to unravel around here.

  “Really Briston, it’s no big deal. Everything’s fine.”

  “Fine, if you won’t tell me over the phone then I’m coming to you. Where are you by the way? Are you still at your parent’s place?”

  Okay, Emma, act cool and calm let the lie naturally roll off your tongue. “No, I’m—”

  “I’ll be there in thirty.”

  The line goes quiet as Briston hangs up. Great! Now what was I going to do? I can’t tell him—or anybody—what is going on. Even if I’m not sure it is real, I don’t want them to think I have gone all psycho and am letting crazy people stay in the shed.

  That reminds me; I need to call my mom to tell her everything is fine. I dialed her number, focusing on being calm and collected. Mom isn’t as good at picking up my lies like Briston, but she can be perceptive at times.

  “Hey mom, how are you and dad?”

  “We’re fine honey. Are you back at your apartment?” Oh no! I should have known mom would ask that question. She always does. What do I say now? If I told her I was at my place and she talks to Mrs. Porter my lie will be blown to bits. Mrs. Porter always keeps my mother informed about who is where. The first thing she will mention to my mother is that my car was parked outside the house all night.

  “No, I’m still at your house. I think I’m going to stay the night.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yep, I’m just a little droopy-eyed.” Which is les
s than the truth; I am tired. Exhausted, really.

  “I thought you had to work tonight? And what about your early classes?” Well, there is another important matter I have forgotten. Work. I glance over at the clock to see it’s almost six. I’m supposed to start my shift in ten minutes. I guess another phone call needs to be made after this one.

  “I called in a sick day.” At least I will. “And my class doesn’t start until ten, so I should be good.” Was I even going to go to school tomorrow? How could I, knowing what was lurking in the backyard.

  “Okay, honey. If you need anything just call.”

  “I will. Love you guys.”

  “Love you too.”

  I hang up the phone with a relieved sigh, before making the dreaded call to my boss. Jim can be a cool guy but if you push his buttons or if he’s stressed, you learn real fast to stay clear. When he answers the phone I know this is not a day to displease him.

  “Where are you?” He snaps.

  “Um, hey Jim, I’m sick and I won’t be able to come in today.”

  “Why didn’t you call in earlier?” Jim’s voice is filled with aggravation as he questions me. I guess I can’t blame him. He’s already short on staff at the café, and with me giving them a ten minute notice puts him in an even tighter jam. What can I say? I’m sorry Jim but a heavenly outcast is in my backyard suffering from injuries made by Lucifer’s hell hounds. Yeah, that would work. Work to getting me fired.

  “I was going to come in but I fell asleep with a fever. I just now woke up. I’m sorry.” We sit in silence for a moment. I can hear Jim on the other line releasing a heavy sigh.

  “Fine but you’re not getting compensated for today. Will you be here tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely.” I have every intention to be. The bills aren’t going to get paid if I don’t.

  Jim tells me to rest and feel better before hanging up. I softly mumble, “I’ll feel better when things go back to normal.” I toss my phone on the bed and walk to my parent’s bedroom. I’m restless, and the comfort of the familiar room is welcoming. Even if they’re not here, their presence lingers. Plus, they have the best view of the backyard and the shed.

  I sit on the handmade quilt my grandmother made for my mom before she passed away. The lavender, mauve, peach and rich purple squares, interspersed with cloth swatches with a green and yellow Victorian-style ivy print shows my grandmother’s beautiful talent. The stitching perfect. The colors all picked from my mother’s long list of favorites. When my grandmother had died, my mother sat bundled up in this quilt for days, reminiscing in the moments she shared with her mother. I don’t know how my grandmother knew her time was coming. I wonder if you get a type of feeling that your time is near before you die. It was strange that she gave my mother this quilt two days before she died in her sleep. It was as if she meant it to be a last gift of remembrance before she moved on to wherever we go next.

  I gaze out the small window next to the bed. White lace curtains frame the window, contrasting against the darkness that has fallen. Where did my grandmother’s spirit go? Was there a Heaven and Hell? Sure, I went to church every Sunday. I listened to the pastor tell stories of God and Lucifer. But it never seemed real to me. I never felt a special reason to believe they were anything but stories. Some say they can feel the peace and serenity of God, and see the evil that Lucifer tries to inflict. I just never have. It all seemed too farfetched.

  But what if it is real? What if God and his angels really did exist? Kayson said he was a fallen angel, and had been very detailed in his story of angels, realms, and Lucifer’s children. But couldn’t that just be a story? Some people can let their imagination spiral away, creating new worlds that aren’t real, but which they can make seem real.

  I flop back on the bed, frustrated. Closing my eyes, I take deep breaths to try to calm my racing mind. Breathe Emma. Calm yourself or you will be on a one-way street to the nut house just like Mr. Robinson. That thought grips my chest with a fierce tight jab, making me bolt to my feet. Images swirl through my head of Mr. Robinson walking through the streets of downtown warning people that Hell was upon us. He claimed that demons had infiltrated his thoughts and made him cheat on his wife. It was sad. Mr. Robinson had been on the city council and the editor of the town’s newspaper, and had also been an admired youth leader at the Baptist Church.

  He had been an upstanding citizen in Sterling Hollow, but that had gone away after he’d returned home from a business trip in Salt Lake City. He came home pleading for his wife’s forgiveness, after telling her of his sordid affair in Salt Lake. Of course, she left him, and told the whole town what he’d done as well. Mr. Robinson crumbled soon after. He’d soon been removed as youth leader and the city council had voted him off, just before he quit his job at the newspaper.

  Things became worse after that, but the line had been drawn when he saw members of the school’s drama club wearing devil horns and handing out flyers to the haunted house for Halloween the year before. He had grabbed one of the students by the shoulders, shaking her, and warning her against letting the demons in. The police had stepped in at that point, arresting him and holding him in custody until the medical team from UNI came to get him. Everyone watched as they loaded Mr. Robinson into the medical van, fully strapped to prevent self-harm.

  I couldn’t let Kayson’s far-fetched stories and fears drive me to insanity like they did Mr. Robinson. I was just going to have to tell Kayson and Sabrina that they had to find some other place to stay. But what if everything they said was true? What if Kayson is a fallen angel and I turn my back on him? What will become of my soul?

  The doorbell rings, sending my heart into overdrive. It must be Briston. Maybe I can talk to him about his beliefs, something we’ve actually never discussed before, and figure this out. Of course that means it could lead to me telling him everything. Gulp.

  As I make my way out of my parent’s room, I look at the pictures of my family, neatly arranged on the wall. My mother placed them in a timeline fashion, starting with my great-grandparents. A picture of them in New York hangs on the top left of the wall. On the top right is a picture of them and my grandmother. My grandmother was their only child. From there, a semi-circle arches down and around, connecting the two pictures with other frames holding pictures of my grandparents with my mom and Uncle Brian. Picture of my parents, my brother, and me follow another semi-circle underneath in an immaculate line. The framed portraits of our happy family encompass a beautiful ceramic angel, whose wings are outstretched as if protecting our family, with her hands stretched out to the sides.

  I know my parents are strong believers in Heaven. They never pushed their beliefs on me but were more than happy to have me come to church with them whenever I asked. I wish I had their faith and strong belief. Then maybe this whole situation wouldn’t seem so far-fetched. Then again, I think anybody would freak out if they found a fallen angel in their backyard.

  Shutting off the light, I walk downstairs to answer the door. I peek through the peephole and see Briston on the other side. His worried, nervous face makes me smile. He cares so much about me. I open the door to greet him.

  “Hey, I didn’t—” My sentence is cut off as he bustles through the door, rushing past me, looking around the house for something unordinary.

  “I got here as soon as I could. What’s going on?”

  With a flick of my hand, I shut the door. “Gee, it’s nice to see you too.”

  Briston turns around from his inspecting. His brown hazel eyes are filled with so much concern. His tousled dark blonde hair that’s tipped with curls from being too long falls in a mess over his eyes. With unease, he pushes his hair back as he looks at me. “I’m sorry Em, but I knew something was wrong and I just freaked out.” He gives me the faintest tip of a smile. “It is nice to see you.”

  I playfully push his shoulder before pulling him into a hug. “My hero. Here to save me once again from my complex thoughts.”

  Briston pulls back fro
m the hug, nicking my chin with his finger. “Always will be.” Why couldn’t my brother be more like Briston? Siblings are supposed to be there for one another, to help each other get through the crazy times. Once there was a time when I could depend on my brother but that seems like forever ago. I guess that’s why I unofficially adopted Briston as my step-brother. Briston means just as much to me as my family does. He may not be related to me by blood but he is still family, just family I got to choose. Ah, the best kind.

  “Well, I’m fine as you can see.” I sweep my hand through the air.

  “Okay, but what about in here?” Briston taps the side of my head with his finger.

  I sigh. “First, I need something to eat. I’m tired and starving.”

  I pull Briston behind me into the kitchen. The smell of herbs wafting through the air is a nice welcoming fragrance. I rummage through the cabinets and pull out two boxes of macaroni. Turning to Briston, I hold up the boxes. “Fake powder cheese or creamy Alfredo?”

  “Alfredo.” I smile, knowing that’s what he’s going to say. We’ve made this so many times together that my mom always keeps the pantry stocked with our favorite comfort food.

  After cooking the noodles and adding the sauce, we carry our bowls back to the living room along with sodas and cookies. I settle in to my father’s worn out suede recliner, while Briston sits on the matching couch. Silence follows as I inhale my first few bites, which helps, since I’m still grasping for a way to approach Briston about his beliefs. If I directly ask him, he will know something’s up. I need an offhand subject to start off with. Where were Braylee or Harper when you needed them? Oh yeah, frolicking through the mountains.

  “So, why didn’t you want to go with Braylee and the bunch?”

  Briston shrugs his shoulders, “Didn’t feel like it. I had some stuff on my mind.” Briston peers up from his bowl, giving me an odd look.

  I squirm under his stare. “Like what?”