Read Covenant Online

Authors: Maria Rachel Hooley

Tags: #Angels, #maria rachel hooley, #paranormal romance, #sojourner series, #urban fantasy, #Young Adult

Covenant (9 page)

There’s a stoop to her
shoulder as though she carries the weight of the world, and her
steps are slow like she isn’t sure she can make it to the bed.
Celia frowns, and I can feel the old woman’s chaos. She’s never
been one able to watch someone else in pain. Before I know it, she
stands next to the woman and takes her hand to help guide her
toward the body. No, the woman won’t realize that an angel has
helped her take those impossible steps. All she’ll know is what’s
in front of her—a younger woman, probably her daughter, who wasn’t
supposed to die.


Amy.” The word is more of
a breath as she reaches the bed, her trembling hand reaching to
touch the dead woman’s face. In that moment, I see all the love
wrapped up in her, a slight caress of fingers against her hair so
sweet in pausing I feel her chaos stirring within me, and part of
me aches in a way I’m not sure I ever have.

It is in that moment of
grief I really see things from the human side and know that what I
do for them means something to them, even if they do not realize it
because they can’t see us. But I also realize I can’t stay in this
limbo forever. I have to unravel this mystery of my forgetting. If
Evan and Celia won’t tell me the truth, there is only one other
angel I can go to who probably knows the truth—Jayzee.

Chapter Seven

Flying over the ocean, I
find myself heading toward the mountain where a massive waterfall
looms in the distance. Even from here I can hear the rumble and
crash of the falls against the ocean. The world is distorted in
rising mist as I fly directly toward the falls, heading for the
Central Gathering Place, the location all angels go, especially
sojourners and guardians. The sojourners take their souls there.
The guardians take breaks from the human world there so they can
recharge their spirits.

The waterfall is rather
intimidating even for angels, but I zoom through it and land on the
invisible floor, watching as the ocean rushes beneath my feet.
Then, I look up and see all the images of humans flashing on the
backside of the water fall. This pictures are mostly for the
guardians, not the sojourners so I ignore them and try searching
for Jayzee amid so many angels I don’t recognize, and that’s pretty
uncomfortable. It’s like being a foreigner without landmarks to
guide me.

Amid the group, there are
three angel who are just a little disturbing—they tower over all
the rest, and they appear so foreign I feel unsettled. The three
turn toward me and give me these looks that say I should recognize
them, but I don’t. It only makes me wonder how Evan accomplished
putting up the wall, and how certain things transcend his efforts.
Those things I’m pretty sure are deliberate.

Scanning the crowd, I
realize that Jayzee must be on a mission, and since she and Sarah
seem to know me well, and I had something to do with their training
to become sojourners, I might be able to sense them. I should know
where they are because I should be working the same area. Usually,
it’s only the guardians who shift from the initial groupings. There
are those who have functioned as both sojourners and guardians;
it’s rare but not unheard of.

So, before I run into Celia
or Evan, I fly to the Lower Realm, trying to keep myself open to
the presence of those who have served with me. At first, I feel
nothing, so I force myself to focus harder, searching for even the
smallest inkling that will lead me in their direction. For a moment
I think I might be sensing something, but it occurs to me I am
going about this all wrong. It’s probably not so much about sense
as it is instinct. It’s not like the calling I usually notice with
those who are near death. No, it’s more of an intuitive thing I
shouldn’t have to try so hard to find.

Frowning, I know perhaps
parts of my memory are still intact or I wouldn’t have realized
this. Once more with selective holes, thanks to Evan. Isn’t that
the reason I’m trying to find Jayzee?

As I wing toward the Lower
Realm, I feel the sun’s warmth, at least until I need to blend with
the sky. All during the flight, I focus on the sense of familiarity
I feel with Evan, hoping that will guide me.

Of course, where it leads me
is a cemetery. Part of me wants to laugh at the irony as I land
right next to a statue of a cherub. Shaking my head, I stare at it,
well aware just how wrong humans get things and why they don’t get
to see the big picture most of the time. You don’t trust a Da Vinci
to just anybody, if you get my drift.

I look at the statue for a
moment longer, taking in the small wings and vacant eyes, wondering
what the sculptor was thinking in creating this fantasy. Is it the
wings that bring humans comfort, or the feeling that angels have
powers they will never possess?

I close my eyes and think of
Elizabeth, and even in my memory, I feel her reaching for me. It’s
like I’m the only one who can save her. Trouble is, I don’t know
what I’m supposed to be saving her from, and why her salvation
depends on me. A million whys that I never get answers to. Until
now. Jayzee is bound to be around here somewhere. I just have to
find her.

As I look around, I realize
this probably isn’t the best day to be looking for someone in a
cemetery. There’s at least two grave-side ceremonies going on at
different ends of a very large area, and while I am looking to the
inner guide that will tell me which way to go, I feel myself tugged
in both directions, which is no help at all. And the really
ridiculous thing is that no one appears to be needing any
sojourners. Whomever is being buried is far past that point, so why
is my internal sensory system acting up?

In fact, this whole place
seems familiar, but for the life of me, I can’t fathom why. Beyond
all the statues and graves, there is a small house nestled at the
back of the cemetery. Of course, there’s this old wooden bridge
that spans a river, and even before I realize it, I’m already
heading that way. It’s pretty safe to say something is luring me
toward it, but I don’t think it is a connection to the other
angels. It’s something else entirely, something I’m not sure I can
name. Stepping forward, I hear the sound of a pastor giving a
eulogy at one of the services. Looking back, I see there are about
twenty people standing before the open grave, and although I allow
my attention to wander that way, I feel the chaos within the humans
gathered there. It’s normal, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t
affect me. It shouldn’t, but it does. On the contrary, it almost
bowls me over, and I reach to clutch the rail of the bridge as I
struggle to shield from misery I am not set up to
handle.

Despite the shield, the pain
keeps coming like spikes of agony, and I don’t realize I’m slipping
to my knees until I drop hard on the rough planks.

Block it,
I tell myself.
You know
how to do that.
Yet it would appear
knowing and doing are two different things, and right now the
“knowing” is useless. The pain sucks at me, draining my energy, and
I feel lost as my form sinks lower and lower until I lie on the
hard wood, unable to do anything except curl up into a ball like a
human infant.

* * *


Hey, you all
right?”

The voice is distant, and at
first I think it’s coming from a human. I start to open my eyes,
bracing for the onslaught of pain, but only the bright sunlight
haloing another angel’s face greets me.


What happened?” he asks,
offering me a hand up.

I blink and try to sense
whether I know him. Probably not. I do pick up on a sort of bond,
but it is distant, suggesting perhaps we have worked in the same
areas but it has not been a close bond, not like that shared with
Evan or Celia; I feel his spirit is much older than
mine.


I don’t know,” I finally
manage, sitting up. “One moment everything was fine; the next,
there was this overwhelming sense of loss.”


You’re in a cemetery,” he
says, offering his hand. Once upright, I realize just how much
taller my current corporeal form is than his. He comes to my
shoulders, and he appears as an old man with a receding silver
hairline. While his spirit is old, it’s hardly that old. Likely,
he’s just using that form because it is currently the most
useful.


Yeah, I guess I am,” I
say, looking around. Of course, all the people have gone, so that
pretty much explains why the emotional overload has finally
vanished.


How long you been
sojourning, anyway?” His blue eyes stare expectantly, awaiting an
answer


Centuries.”


Then I would have figured
you might have mastered shielding just a little better than
that.”

I frown and think back to my
training with Evan. The fact that this isn’t the first time I’ve
been overwhelmed doesn’t make me feel very confident in my
abilities, yet when I think of Evan, I know he is a consummate
sojourner. While I might not have known about shielding, I’m pretty
sure he would have thought about it, and, when the time came, he
would have taught me. Evan would not have left out such an
important aspect of my training; he would leave nothing to chance,
I’m quite sure.


I’ve been having some
glitches here and there.” I look toward the house, wondering why I
am drawn to it. I sense there is an importance to it, but I don’t
know what it might be, and that bothers me.


You might want to get
those ‘glitches,’ as you call them, worked out before you come into
contact with humans. They almost saw you until I came over and
helped you with the blending.” He looks back at the grave where all
the mourners had been standing and watches as a backhoe pushes dirt
into the hole.


Thanks, by the way. I’m
Lev Walker.”


Don’t mention it.” He
turns back to me. “I’m Roberto Moralez. So what are you doing here?
It’s not like there’s a need for a sojourner right now. Not even
close.”

I fold my arms across my
chest, realizing there’s probably no point in hiding my purpose.
This angel has more than enough years of experience to be able to
ferret out the truth if he really wants, so I shrug and say, “I was
looking for someone.”

He nods. “Okay. Maybe if you
want to give me a little more information I can help. Got a
name?”


An angel named
Jayzee.”

His eyebrows arch. “What do
you want with Jayzee?”


Just to talk. I had a
few…questions… I thought she might be able to answer. Do you know
her?”


Sure. I can even take you
to her if you like.”


Yeah, I’d love
that.”

Roberto nods to the sky.
“It’s going to require some flying. How are things in that
department?”


Just fine,” I say, looking
at a blue sky aching to be travelled in. “I’ll follow
you.”


All right. Here we go.” He
leaps toward the sky, and his wings, which have been invisible
until now, suddenly appear, large, white, majestic. His motions are
far more careful and deliberate than mine. Just another indicator
of his longevity and how far I have to go.

Still, he flies at an easy
pace to keep up with, and even though It try to fathom where he
might be leading us, I don’t remember enough about Jayzee to tell
me. Still, the flight is short, and we end up in the back yard of a
single-floor ranch house that has definitely seen better days.
Although the outer structure is covered in rust-colored bricks,
there is one window that is covered in cardboard, and numerous
shingles have disappeared from the roof, leaving bare spots that
can’t be good when it rains.

The grass we touch down in
isn’t thick, but it does reach my knees, and I wonder what is going
on. One of the first rules sojourners and guardians are taught is
to blend in, and unless this neighborhood is really crappy, this
isn’t blending on any scale. Of course, the broken mower in the
corner, only half-concealed under the corner of the house, suggests
it’s not been an option, really, and angels aren’t supposed to use
their powers in routine situations, so miraculously fixing the
mower would be frowned upon. Still, I glance at the yards that face
this one with only an alley to separate them from this yard, and I
see pretty much the same thing—lots of tall grass and broken
mowers, not to mention wooden fences with slats broken or missing
altogether. I won’t even go into all the junk around the yard,
which answers my questions about fitting in.


This way, Lev.” He
gestures to the back sliding door, and I follow him, hanging a
couple of steps back as he enters. Although I can’t remember the
type of relationship Jayzee and I shared, I’m willing to bet it was
just sour enough so she’s probably not going to be happy to see me.
Still, she’s got the intel I need.

Roberto slips into the house
and gestures for me to follow, but before I can even get anywhere
near the door, I see Sarah suddenly appear and block my entrance.
“What did you bring him for?” she snarls. “He doesn’t belong with
us and you know it, Bob.”

Roberto shrugs, and that
makes him look like a harmless old human despite the power tied to
his being. With angels, looks are very deceiving until they
demonstrate what they are truly capable of, and by that point, you
would probably wish you hadn’t seen the truth because it means your
life is about to change or, more likely, it’s over.

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