Chapter 3 #2
His room is the same as when I left. Tall arched ceilings make the small room feel spacious, accompanied by a cathedral-like window that occupies most of the back wall—a space wide enough for us to take flight if needed.
A messy bed sits in the far-left corner, large enough to comfortably accommodate two people in true form, and a TV—along with a video game console—sits on the floor in a tangled mess.
“Lowell isn’t the only person who doesn’t redecorate,” I huff, tossing a crumpled T-shirt on the floor. I plop down on the bed, and the softness nearly makes me moan.
“I like my room,” he bites back.
I point to the small gaming system on the floor. “Do you still play those games?”
He huffs. “Hell yeah, I do. And you would enjoy it if you ever tried. Maybe you could release some anger instead of pretending it doesn’t exist.”
I shift in bed, trying to get more comfortable. “I would probably shatter the controller the second I lost.”
He laughs and picks up a few things around the messy room, tossing them out of the way for him to sit in a nearby chair.
“Do you still play with Talon?” I ask.
Shaw smiles with a wink. “Define play?”
“I’m talking about the video game. I’m not interested in your love life.”
Shaw laughs as he falls backward into the chair. “Yes, we play video games most nights. And I wouldn’t call it a love life, Mara. It’s not like I have many options in the Order. Talon is there at the end of the day.”
“Liar,” I say.
He smiles. “I know.”
I laugh with him. “How is Talon? He and his sister are okay?”
Talon and Bronwyn Vale are twin hybrids in the Lyre Order.
They joined the order a year after I arrived, and Shaw quickly became infatuated with Talon—they have been together ever since.
They fit together perfectly, and I envy the way they look at each other.
Bronwyn and I became fast friends as well, and the four of us were a tight group until I messed everything up.
Shaw nods. “They are. It’s been quiet since you left—with assignments and all. We’ve only had a few over the past year.”
“What?” I sit up straight.
“It’s true. Lowell hasn’t asked us to do much. It’s like he was waiting for you to return.”
My stomach flips. “Great.”
Shaw clears his throat. “What do you think Lowell and Carver will be speaking about? I was shocked when I was told to deliver that news.”
I shrug. “How the hell would I know, Shaw?”
My mind travels back to before I left for my last assignment.
Whispers traveled around that something larger was coming—something that was going to force the angels and demons to work together—but everyone shrugged it off as a rumor.
There hasn’t been anything to force that in centuries, but if the Voids are joining together for some reason, it’s a cause for concern, even for the Elders.
“But,” I start. “I know it has everything to do with the Elder’s wife’s passing.”
“I think it does as well,” he responds. “Like I said, things have been quiet since you left, and not a relaxing quiet. One that makes you jump at every noise and makes it uneasy to be alone.”
I don’t respond. Instead, I let that same feeling I’ve been experiencing take over like a wave.
I’ve only been free for a few hours, and I can already tell that something is different.
The conversation dies down, and I look outside the large window.
The bustling city below is loud and unlike anything I’m used to.
It will take some time to reacclimate, and unfortunately, that’s time I don’t have.
“You okay?” Shaw asks, moving to sit beside me on the bed.
“You know I don’t like that question,” I respond.
He takes my hand, demanding my attention.
“Mara, you know that during the mental evaluation, he will ask you whatever he wants. Lowell will expect you to show him, and I don’t want that to overwhelm you. If you fail...” he trails off.
I know exactly what will happen if I fail either the physical or mental evaluation tomorrow. I will become a Void, a nobody—an angel who will spend the rest of their immortal life being hunted.
“I’m ready,” I reply. “I mean, what will be different from when I did this before?”
And just like I’ve done countless times since my return, I lie.
“Hm, slightly more trauma?” Shaw shrugs.
I stand, pulling him to join me. “I’ll be fine.”
He gives me a somewhat unconvinced look, like he knows I’m saying whatever I can to avoid discussing what’s really going on. I've mastered the art of deflection. I return a sarcastic smile and exhale slowly.
“Alright, then,” Shaw says as he walks toward his bedroom door. “Let’s get you settled. You need a shower, and I want my Mara back. It’s been too long.”
“You are an idiot, but I’m happy to oblige. I want this filth off me.” I cross the threshold and turn left, heading toward my bedroom just four doors down.
The hallway is quiet, and the morning hustle of people has faded. Some angels have received their daily duties, some have taken to the sky, while others choose to remain in their rooms, unable to face the fact that we are forced to walk this earth.
He grabs my arm, stopping me from heading in that direction, “Someone took your room while you were gone.”
I freeze and slowly turn my gaze to his. “What?”
He grimaces. “A girl.” Shaw leans in closer. “Even worse, a newbie.”
I cross my arms. “And you let this happen?”
Shaw pulls me toward the right and down just one door. “You are damn right I let that happen, because look.” He extends his hand as if presenting something to an audience. “I got you this room.”
I smile, allowing the emotion to take over my system—joy. Then comes a tinge of annoyance. If I’m this close to Shaw, I’ll never have any alone time. However, after nearly a year in prison, the thought of being alone makes my hands tremble.
“How is a new member on this floor?” I question.
Shaw shrugs. “She’s probably fucking Lowell.”
He retrieves a key from his jeans and fumbles to unlock the door.
With a click, the door pushes open with my assistance.
It’s dark, but the large window begins to fill the space with a mid-morning glow.
I step inside and notice the scent of must. This room hasn’t been lived in, so dust covers the tops of everything.
All the rooms in the Order are similar in ways, and mine looks a lot like Shaw’s—minus the mess.
I see my clothes in the closet, my shoes thrown on the floor, and everything else I left behind.
My instinct is to shut myself in my room for a few days to cope with the overwhelming emotions coursing through me, but I can’t do that.
I have evaluations tomorrow, and I know that outside of showering, there’s little chance of Shaw leaving me alone. And even that might be a stretch.
I turn to look at Shaw, and he watches me intently, waiting for my reaction. A few hours ago, the only thing I had to my name was the disgusting uniform on my back. Now, seeing all my things before me makes me realize that overconsumption is a strong suit of mine.
I walk to the window and throw it open. A breeze quickly sweeps through the room, filling the room with its scent.
Light, air, and freedom—all so foreign to me.
I refuse to let my thoughts turn sour, so I turn to Shaw and say, “You couldn’t have dusted every few months?”
He laughs. “You just came from my bedroom. I don’t clean.”
I return the laughter and walk toward him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Standing on my tiptoes, I kiss his rough cheek. “Thank you.”
He smiles. “Of course, but in all honesty, I don’t enjoy being this close to you right now.” Shaw pushes me away. “Go shower and meet me in my room when you’re done. We’ll get burgers or something. I expect nothing less than amazing the next time I see you.”
He turns and leaves, shutting the door behind him.
I hear the latch click into place, and just as I knew it would, the feeling of isolation begins to creep back into my system like a looming nightmare.
I rush toward the bathroom and throw open the door, revealing darkness.
My chest begins to heave, and I suck in a breath, trying to calm my racing heart.
I stare into the room, and I swear I hear a voice call from the darkness. “Careful of the Grim.”
I quickly flick on the light to reveal a standard bathroom—a sink, toilet, and beautifully tiled mosaic shower.
Calm.
Calm.
And just like the few times before, a euphoric wave of numbness washes over me.
I stride into the room, closing the door behind me, letting the relaxation consume me.
I don’t dare look in the mirror, because I know my reflection won’t be forgiving.
I turn on the shower, allowing the steam to fill the room like a white fog, and I drop my clothes on the ground next to me.
The scalding water hits my skin, and I step face-first into the stream.
What the fuck am I going to do?
And why am I so eager to start?