The Saving Angels Series: Books 1-3 (48 page)

Our lighthearted mood was superficial as we made an unspoken pact to place our worries on the backburner. We all knew what was expected of us, and tomorrow we would be Guides and Protectors again. Tonight though, we were just goofy kids blowing off steam.

***

Haniel woke us early the next morning to prepare for the other band's
arrival. Sleeping arrangements had to be made to accommodate twenty of us. It was decided ahead of time that we would be sleeping in two shifts. But even with sleeping in shifts, we needed all the additional space we could get, including the two rooms we had avoided, his father's office and bedroom.

Mark tackled his dad's office like a madman, pushing all the furnishings against the far wall with a careless attitude, slamming each item together with bone-jarring crashes. Once the heavy furnishings were moved, he tossed the heavy leather desk chair on top of the desk with one hand, scarring the deep mahogany exterior as it journeyed the length of the desktop. We didn’t question his methods and felt his attitude was justified.

His father's room though, was another issue altogether. Mark's hand paused on the doorknob, but he couldn't seem to find the inner strength to turn the knob.

"Dude we got this. Why don't you and Krista go get the supplies we're going to need?" Shawn suggested, nudging Mark's hand away from the knob. "We got this under control," he said again with emphasis, giving Mark and me a small push down the hall.

"Yeah, let's go do the shopping," I said, grateful for my brother's suggestion. I hated seeing Mark so torn up and I felt a little alone time was exactly what we needed. "You get your keys and I'll grab my bag," I told him, skipping toward my room, lighthearted at the prospect of alone time. I loved all my friends, but at times I selfishly craved the solitude of just us.

Grabbing my small purse off the bed, I slung the long slender strap around my neck so it crisscrossed my body. Carrying a purse was not a favorite of mine so I bought the most functional purse I could find. The pretty paisley print made up for its function, giving it quite the girly look and keeping Sam's negative remarks about my fashion sense to a minimum drawl. Pausing in front of the dresser mirror, I ran the brush through my hair and swiped a quick brush of lip gloss across my lips. Grimacing at my bland appearance, I finally gave up on making my reflection something it wasn’t.

The ride to Walmart was quiet. At first I tried to fill the silence with mindless chatter as he drove, but when he remained silent during each attempt, I finally clammed up. I couldn't help feeling hurt that he wouldn't open up to me. Blinking away tears, I kept my eyes on the landscape that passed outside my window, struggling to keep my emotions at bay. I was crushed by the chasm that seemed to be growing between us.

We were different than the others by the fact that his father seemed destined to ruin the closeness Mark and I were supposed to share,
I couldn't help thinking to myself, as I kept my eyes firmly turned away from his so he couldn't see the moisture I had to blink away.

Once we arrived at the crowded Walmart, all thoughts of having a decent conversation were out. We focused on maneuvering our buggies between whiney kids begging for toys, harassed parents trying to get their weekly shopping done, and elderly people scooting along on their motorized vehicles.

Our conversation strictly consisted of short sentences.

"Grab a couple extra tubes of toothpaste," I told him, while I threw several packages of toilet paper into the buggy.

By the time we loaded up one of the buggies with air mattresses, blankets, sheets, toiletry items, and extra towels, I was sick of the store.

Still needing actual food items, we headed over to the perishables section of the store. I threw soda, chips, deli lunch meat and all the fixings for sandwiches into the cart without hesitation, hoping to escape the confines of the store as quickly as I could.

The back of my foot was run over twice by shoppers not paying attention and I had to put a restraining hand on Mark's arm when a guy around our age dropped a two liter bottle of soda on my foot and didn't acknowledge it at all. "
It's
fine," I said, bending down to pick up the offending bottle of Mountain Dew and placing it back on the shelf.

Needless to say, by the time Mark pulled out of the parking lot, I wasn’t feeling overly thrilled about the store.

"Well that was a nightmare," Mark said, finally sounding like himself.

I let out a burst of laughter, relieved that at least he was acting normal again. "Um, that's putting it mildly. I can't believe people subject themselves to that torture every week. We would starve if that was our only option," I added jokingly.

"Good thing we're junk food junkies," Mark said, grabbing onto my hand as he steered the vehicle with his other.

"Yep, guess so. It will be nothing but burgers and chocolate for us every single night," I declared.

"And pizza," Mark added.

"And French fries," I threw in for good measure.

The rest of the drive was lighthearted as we bantered back and forth, throwing more and more junk food onto our list. My fears on the drive out seemed silly and immature. Mark obviously just needed a little space to process things without me throwing in my own insecurities into the mix.

Relieved to be back, we arrived at Mark's house to find a white Suburban sitting in Mark's usual spot. We both climbed out apprehensively. It was a surreal experience to know that we were about to meet others like us.

"Well, here we go," Mark said, linking his fingers through mine as we headed up the front walk.

I was surprised that the house was as quiet as a tomb as we opened the front door. Puzzled, I glanced at Mark who had tensed up at the silence. He even stepped in front of me protectively as we cautiously walked toward the living room, hyperaware of our surroundings.

I ran into his back when he halted abruptly in front of me.

I prepared myself for whatever danger awaited us. Frightened of what I was going to see, I peeked around Mark's back. I couldn't help the gasp of surprise that left my lips.

One of the bands had arrived, and they were unlike anything I could have ever imagined. They weren't as imposing as Haniel, but they definitely projected an aura of greatness. They portrayed the very definition of unity as they stood together. To place their age would have been difficult. They had the builds of our youth, but the maturity of a wiser and older generation. They stood together as one. My friends, on the other hand, were scattered around the living room, looking disjointed.

The women were by far the most beautiful I had ever seen. Their hair shimmered in the light that streamed through the French doors. Though they were different heights and builds, they all shared the same honey-colored skin that made them look every bit their Angelic role. The men on the other hand looked like warriors from a gladiator movie. Their builds were broad with bodies that looked like they had been carved out of marble by a talented artist. Perhaps their greatest assets were the adoring ways they looked at their Soul Mates others. There was no question
who
belonged to who.

"Ah Krista, Mark, you have arrived.
Come,
let me introduce you to everyone. This is Amelia and her Protector,
Paul," Haniel said, pointing to the first couple. "And this is Jenna and her Protector,
Keith, Kieran and her Protector,
John, and Grace and her Protector,
Thomas," he said, rattling off the rest of the names. My head spun trying to keep the pairs matched up as I nodded to each of them.

"Hi," I said, bewildered at the atmosphere in the room. I tested the waters, trying to get a sense of it, but it was like the feelings in the room had been snuffed out. My own bewilderment began to fade as I felt the alien blanket of passiveness creeping over me.

Trying to fight it off, I struggled to push it back. My attempts felt feeble, compared against theirs, and I felt my own emotions retreating. I should have been pissed that they overtook me so thoroughly, but I couldn’t seem to muster enough emotion to care, as I sunk down on the couch next to Sam.

"You are witnessing what a united, experienced band can accomplish. As you can see, it can be highly effective when properly administrated," Haniel said.

At his words the blanket left us and my emotions became my own again. Though they were like us, I couldn’t help feeling exposed by their easy access to my inner feelings.

"Ugh, well I didn't like that at all," Sam said, breaking the silence.

One of the women from the other band laughed. "No, it's not pleasant as a Guide to have your feelings tampered with. I hated this exercise when Haniel used to make us practice it with the more experienced bands."

Her words broke the rest of the silence in the room, and soon questions were flying back and forth. Our band seemed to fascinate them, and they peppered us with questions.

"So, how exactly did all of you find each other?" Amelia, the quietest of the band asked.

"We felt the pull of the city," Lynn said. "Each of us had a chain of events that led us here."

"Do you feel disjointed with the absence of the missing pair?" Jenna, the more outspoken one of the band asked curiously.

"What do you mean?" Shawn asked.

"When our band is separated we feel the absence like a gaping wound. It's as if a crucial piece of a puzzle is missing. We prefer it when our band is not far apart," she said.

"Well, I'm not sure if ours is the same, but I know that I worry about the other pair a lot. It tears me up to think of them in the hands of that monster," Sam said, looking at Mark apologetically.

"Me too," Lynn added. "It makes me sad thinking about them. I never thought of them like a missing puzzle piece, but now that you've put it that way, that’s exactly what it feels like," she went on thoughtfully. "Do you guys feel the same?"

"I do," I said. "I've felt that way for a while. Especially once I saw them on the monitor. At first I thought it was because I felt bad that they were being subjected to evil day in and day out, but I think it goes beyond that. My heart aches on a constant basis for them, I've just worked hard at keeping it at bay."

"And you have no idea where they can be?" one of the guys asked. I think his name was Thomas.

I cringed at his question, not entirely sure how Mark would react to it. Mark surprised me, though, by answering calmly. "No, my father was absentee at best, he was never around, and I always felt like he was more of a stranger than anything else. I wish I would have pried more, but I always assumed I was some kind of freak of nature that was stronger than normal and dreamt about some hot girl every night," he said ruefully. "Not that I ever confided any of that to him."

I smiled at his words.
Hot girl
.
Sure, he was biased, but it still made me feel special.

"We are grieved that he destroyed the others.
They were a special, loyal band and we will miss them greatly. We will stop him before he can harm any more of us," John said, clearly the leader of their group. "Usually,
bands
receive more knowledge and training than your mismatched group has received, and yet you have shown tenacity and skills that
leave
me in awe. Your parents would have been proud. I remember meeting them when I was twelve, and they loved you all greatly."

A knot formed in my throat at his words. My adoptive parents had always treated me
as their own,
but hearing that my real parents loved me too, made the loss more acutely painful.

"Your mother included," he said, addressing Mark. "I remember her playing in the ocean with you at the beach they all frequented. She laughed every time you squealed when the water came close to you."

I gripped Mark's hand in my own as I watched him swallow a lump. Knowing he had at least one parent that actually cared about him, I was sure was a welcome change after dealing with his father.

"Do all the bands get together often?" Sam asked curiously.

"Once every couple years or so," Kieran, John's spouse said. "It usually takes some creative scheduling to work around our assignments. Of course, after your parents' tragic deaths, we missed several reunions. My parents grieved deeply and pleaded with Haniel to tell them your whereabouts, but he would never give them the information they sought," she said, sounding slightly bitter as she threw a glare toward Haniel.

I glanced at Haniel, surprised.
Why had he left us scattered when he could have given us to others like us?

Haniel met my stare dead on, but remained stubbornly silent.

"My mother took it the hardest. She worried endlessly about all of you," Kieran continued.

"And does she know about us now?" Lynn asked.

"No, she and my father passed away several years ago on an assignment. They died in the line of duty, as true Links," she said.

"
Links?
"
Sam asked puzzled.

"It's a term we use to describe our bonds. It becomes tedious to always say Guides and Protectors all the time, so instead we nicknamed ourselves Links. It fits the best since we are linked together."