Authors: Heather Terrell
Fallen Angel (15 page)
“Who are you?” I asked this “Ezekiel,” as I tried to shake off Michael. Why was Michael holding me in a vise grip so I could listen to this guy?
“Ellspeth, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ezekiel. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, although I apologize for the circumstances.” Zeke—or Ezekiel—said, as if we were being introduced over high tea at Bar Harbor’s finest hotel rather than on a deserted beach on a freezing cold evening while my boyfriend held me down. All the while, he kept that strange smile pasted on his face.
“Where’s your friend, Missy?” I asked, as I struggled to free myself from Michael.
“I am sorry for my unfortunate association with your classmate Missy. I entered into that relationship with the hopes it might provide me with an easy introduction to you and Michael. Sadly, that was not to be the case. But I stayed with her because I saw she could serve other purposes.” His language had a formal, almost antiquated, feel to it.
Suddenly I understood why Missy had been so friendly to me at the beginning of school. It was an effort by this Ezekiel to get to us through her. And I thought I knew what he meant by the “other purposes” that Missy served.
“Did you put Missy up to the Facebook stunt?” I asked, having seen him in those flashes. Not that he’d know about them, of course.
“You showed yourself to be quite the savior in that incident, Ellspeth. And you showed me quite a lot about yourself in the process.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Did you orchestrate that whole sickening thing?”
He sighed, as if disappointed by the inquiry. “No, Ellspeth. I did not force Missy to perpetrate the Facebook stunt, as you have called it. Missy did not act outside her own nature and she did not act at my behest. I will admit to fostering her nature and her Facebook plan as the incident afforded me an important insight. . . . It allowed me to see how you would behave when faced with a truly soulless act. And I saw that, while you were willing to sacrifice yourself to protect the potential victims of Missy’s game, you were not immune to the lure of the darkness that emanated from it.” Ezekiel smiled, evidently pleased by his remote handiwork and my reaction to his test. “But you should know that I was no puppeteer of Missy, Ellspeth. You must have seen that she acted of her own accord—in your visions.”
Like ice, my blood froze in my veins. “How did you know about those?”
“I know what you are and what you can do. Therefore, I assume you saw how her plan unfolded, Ellspeth.”
Michael finally spoke. “Ellie, listen to what Ezekiel just said. He knows what we are and what we can do. He can help us understand who we are.” Was this the reason that Michael was acting so deferentially toward this Ezekiel? Even if Michael believed that Ezekiel had the answers, it was no excuse for his iron grip, for his betrayal of me.
Ezekiel interjected, his tone still becalming. “It is quite all right, Michael. I think you best release Ellspeth from your embrace.”
As if obeying a command, Michael’s arms slackened. I faced Ezekiel alone, thoroughly exposed to his fear-someness.
Ezekiel spoke to Michael, but stared directly at me. “Ellspeth’s reaction is perfectly understandable. She does not know who I am. She does not even know who she is. Yet. But I am very much looking forward to sharing with her the uniqueness of her—”
“I don’t need you to tell me who I am.” It was my turn to interject. Thanks to my parents, I had some understanding of my identity. Some.
“Ellie, please,” Michael begged me—to listen and defer. I felt like I didn’t even know Michael. He seemed almost drugged by the very presence of this Ezekiel.
I spun around toward him. Drugged or not, how dare he? “Why should I? You’ve dragged me to Ransom Beach under false pretenses—once again. I have no reason to trust you, or him.” I was so thankful that I hadn’t shared my parents’ secrets with him.
Michael started to stammer out another objection, but Ezekiel interrupted. “Michael, of course Ellspeth is mistrustful. Once she learns everything that you have learned, she will undoubtedly relinquish her suspicions. She will come to understand—as you have—that I am only here to help you both.”
Even though my instincts told me to flee, I knew I would stay. I wanted to hear Ezekiel’s explanation of my “uniqueness,” to compare it with the story my parents had told me. So I stood firm in the face of his devouring gaze, and waited. I would listen to what he had to say but I would not react. I would take the knowledge I’d garnered from him and return to my parents—with my new information in hand. And they would help me make sense of everything; they would tell me all the details they’d withheld last night. That was my plan, anyway.
Ezekiel acknowledged my momentary acquiescence with a self-satisfied smile. It was the smile of one used to getting what he asked for.
He began. “Last night, I came upon Michael. Alone. He was scared and full of queries, so I answered them. Much as a parent answers the pleas of his child. Because, in many ways, Michael is my child. As are you, Ellspeth.
“You and Michael are born from the same source as me. You fly. You can read and influence the thoughts of others, through touch and blood. You know you are different from the others. Better. But what are you?
“Michael tells me that you have resisted the label of vampire, though all the characteristics seem to fit. How right you were to resist this moniker. The name ‘vampire’ is given by humans to beings such as ourselves—out of ignorance. You can see, of course, from whence the vampire legend sprung. The flying, the blood, the sheer incomprehensibility of our powers, would give rise to the fairy tale of the vampire.
“But you and Michael are not vampires. Nor am I. Ellspeth, we are select beings, born to lead mankind. And I will show you and Michael the way.”
Ezekiel paused dramatically. I guessed that he wanted me to swoon or gush excitedly over his speech. Maybe those were the reactions he usually received. But, in truth, it sounded like the story my parents had told me the night before. Minus the bit about leading mankind. Yet that bit was beginning to give me a good sense of who Ezekiel was. He was sounding more and more like an unrepentant fallen angel, and I was getting more and more frightened.
As Ezekiel waited for my response, he stared into my eyes. “Your parents have told you a different tale about your origin,” he finally said. It wasn’t a question; it was a statement.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“It is certainly not as if they told me. It has been years since I’ve had contact with your parents, and they have no idea that I’ve been in Tillinghast. I know that they’ve told you a different tale about your origins because I have had centuries—no, millennia—of experience reading faces. I can see that you are not surprised by what I am sharing with you. Your parents are the only ones who could have told you part of this tale.”
“Her parents?” Michael asked, as if jolting awake from his trance.
Ezekiel turned to him. “Ellspeth hasn’t told you?”
“No,” Michael said slowly.
“I had planned on telling you, Michael. Before you sprung all this on me,” I said defensively. I didn’t know why I felt the need to justify myself to him, after the stunt he pulled.
“Be wary of what Hananel and Daniel tell you, Ellspeth,” Ezekiel said. “After all, they are not your real parents.”
Hananel. That was what Michael’s mother had called my mom. “Of course they’re my real parents.”
“To be sure, they have raised you since your birth. From the looks of you, my dear, they have performed that role wonderfully. But Hananel and Daniel played no hand in conceiving you, carrying you, or birthing you.”
“You’re lying.”
He sighed, as if it pained him to bring me such distressing news. “I wish I were lying, my dear Ellspeth. But you see, I was there on the day of your birth. And neither Hananel nor Daniel are your parents.”
I needed to know for certain if he was telling the truth. Even though I shivered at the thought of getting close to Ezekiel, I needed to touch him. I needed to see inside his mind.
I wondered if he would allow it. Then I remembered my dad’s description of the fallen angels’ powers of persuasion and realized that Ezekiel was probably trying to gain control over my mind. Just as he’d seemingly done to Michael. Ezekiel was continuing to use that sing-song voice, certain that he was influencing me.
I saw my opportunity. Acting as if he swayed me, I approached him.
“There have always been inconsistencies in their stories of my birth, discrepancies that never made sense,” I said.
“I am not surprised.”
“They are not my parents? Really?” As if convinced by his words, I allowed my eyes to well up with very real tears. Tears I’d been holding back from Michael’s betrayal.
“Really, dear.”
“So I can’t trust what they’ve told me about myself?”
“No, Ellspeth. I am sorry to tell you that you cannot trust the representations of Hananel and Daniel.”
“But you will become a parent to us? Michael and I will not be alone? You will show us the way?”
He smiled; this was the reaction he sought. “I will indeed, Ellspeth.”
I smiled back at him and drew even closer to his blond hair and blue eyes and his unusual, incense-like scent. “I’m so pleased,” I whispered.
“As am I, my dear,” he whispered back. Then I touched him.
The hatred I witnessed in the hearts and minds of my classmates after the Facebook incident was kindergarten stuff in comparison to the darkness of Ezekiel’s spirit. Even the malice I’d seen in Missy could not compare. Through his eyes, I watched scene after scene of dominance and degradation, where he’d concocted ingenious and sickening ways to ensnare the attention—and then the souls—of mankind. He was relentless in reaching his nefarious tentacles into human beings’ lives—births, marriages, illnesses, deaths, educations, businesses, governments, technology, warfare, money, you name it. Ezekiel would not rest until mankind’s thoughts and desires were his own.
He delighted at each conquest, no matter how small or large. For each victory turned another soul away from any hint of goodness. Ezekiel was a fallen angel, and if you bought into the biblical tale, he was punishing God for casting him out. And he would never, ever stop.
His was the darkness that had crept into my soul and mind after the Fall Dance. I wondered if it had crept in through my tasting of Missy’s blood. Had she sampled Ezekiel’s, and did she carry his blood in her veins?
I did not think I could tolerate the malevolence of Ezekiel’s thoughts or, worse, his deeds anymore. He’d performed and arranged countless acts of betrayal, deception, seduction, even murder—some with his own hands, some using the hands of others. I couldn’t survive the onslaught a second longer. Then suddenly it stopped. Ezekiel realized what I was doing and shut down his mind.
I opened my eyes and looked directly into his. In that moment, he understood that I saw him—as no one had every truly seen him before. Why couldn’t Michael see Ezekiel’s evil? Had Ezekiel corrupted him before he had a chance? If Ezekiel had frightened me before, he now terrified me.
But the flash had given me a moment of clarity and freedom, and I flew.
I had never flown as fast or as high. Propelling upward, I sped past the boulders that comprised the sheltering cove, the sharp rock face into which the path was cut, and spiky precipice that made up the cliff top. I desperately needed to make it to the level rock overlooking Ransom Beach before Ezekiel or Michael. Otherwise, the vantage point of the Ransom Beach cliff top would provide them with the precise direction of my route. Once I figured it out.
I touched down on the top of the cliff. For a moment, I saw nothing but gray skies and grayer rocks and the black asphalt of the highway. No silvery-white of Michael’s or Ezekiel’s hair. I exhaled in relief.
Too soon. I felt the earth shudder beneath my feet, and suddenly Ezekiel was there.
“Ellspeth,” he said with his awful smile; it was like seeing the skeleton under his skin. “Where do you think you are going, dear?”
When Ezekiel walked toward me, I realized that he wasn’t alone. Michael stood to his right.
They were converging on me. Slowly but deliberately. As I backed away, I realized just how much they looked alike. It clouded my thinking for a minute, but then I refocused. My choices were limited: move backward to the cliff edge from which I’d just alighted, or head out onto the deserted highway. I opted for the road and the slim chance that a car would appear. Not that a vehicle and driver could stop this duo.
“Ellspeth, there’s nowhere else to go. Nowhere else will you be understood and appreciated for who you are,” Ezekiel said.
“We are your true family,” Michael echoed Ezekiel. What was happening to him?
“You belong with us, Ellspeth. You were born to rule, with Michael and me at your side.” Ezekiel kept using that lulling tone, despite my read of him. I bet it lured a lot of people to him, but just now it wasn’t working. Not that I’d point that out. I’d hate to see what tactic he’d try instead.
“Please, Ellie. You know that you and I were meant to be together,” Michael piped in. How could he have joined up with this monster? Did he not see what I saw?
I kept retreating as they continued their slow advance toward me. I didn’t know how to fend them off or where to go. Unfortunately, comforting thoughts of home kept penetrating my consciousness before I could lock them out. I longed to be with my parents, and Ezekiel must have read the yearning on my face.
“Do you think of returning to Hananel and Daniel, Ellspeth? They can no longer protect you. And your presence will only bring them harm.”
“What do you mean?” I stopped.
“Didn’t they tell you their little secret while they were divulging yours?”
I shook my head, sick at the thought of what he was about to say.
“No? Hananel and Daniel surrendered their immortality when they agreed to raise you as their child.”