I thought about what it would be like to sleep with Evey. I thought about touching every inch of her body and running my hands through her brown hair, getting lost in her brown eyes… being inside of her… her warmth.
I shook my head, trying to displace the thoughts of her naked body… in my arms. Such a beautiful woman Evelyn had become. “No, I can’t.”
“How far is your place?” she asked.
“Just up the way, a couple of blocks.” I was beginning to sober up.
“You don’t want to come up for coffee or something?” she asked again, her expression hopeful.
I waited for a moment, listening for something—Mona, my conscience, God, anything—but there was nothing. “Okay fine.”
I was well aware that I was making a huge mistake. I couldn’t disappoint her though. Not when the two us were seeing each other… finally.
Zack’s first rule and most commonly talked about was: never show them who you really are.
She motioned for me to go inside. Once I was in the entryway of the building, I stopped and waited for her to lead the way up the stairs.
“You okay?” she said, passing me in the stairwell.
I cleared my throat. “Yes.”
“You’re about to puke, huh?”
“No. I’m okay.”
Once inside the apartment, she stopped at the kitchen. “I’ll grab you a water. The living room is down there.” She pointed me in the right direction.
I walked to the living room and flipped on the light. The apartment was empty. The pigsty adjacent to the living room—otherwise known as Brooklyn’s room—was also eerily quiet.
“No one is here,” I called out.
Evey walked up holding a glass of water. “Sit down. My roommate should be home soon.”
I took the glass and sat on the couch. “Thank you.”
When I glanced out of the window, I saw Zack on the stoop across from Evey’s building. He was glaring at me, making a neck-slicing motion with his hand.
“Fuck,” I said, watching him.
“What are you looking at?” Evey asked as she sat on the couch as far away from me as she could.
I turned my entire body toward her. “Evelyn, I want to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“I’m an angel.” I didn’t know what came over me, but being there, in plain view, made me feel like purging two thousand years of pent-up frustration.
She didn’t hesitate. “You seem sweet. I know you’ve had a lot to drink, but I’m not worried.”
“Well, you should be, dammit. Honestly, Evelyn, inviting a drunk stranger up to your apartment at two a.m.? I’m appalled.”
“What? You don’t seem drunk anymore.”
To my relief, she was finally showing some signs of fear and self-preservation by stiffening her body and moving farther away from me. At that point, she was hugging the arm of the chair like she was about to jump up and bolt.
“I’m an actual angel. I’m not saying I’m sweet, although I’d argue…” I waved my hand around, vaguely. “Never mind.”
Her mouth was turning up into a smile. She stood cautiously and started to back away from the couch. In a really sweet voice, wearing a kind smile, she said, “Have you been to see a doctor, or maybe spent time in treatment?”
“What are you talking about, like rehab?” I mean, I knew I had been drinking a lot but…
“Um, um, psychiatric,” she said, softly.
“You’re kidding. I finally tell someone, and they don’t even believe me.” I stood from the couch, a bit wobbly, and took a deep breath. Being free finally did feel amazing, but I wanted her to believe me. I wanted to tell her everything. I held my arms out and said, “I feel liberated. It feels so good. Really, Evey, I’ve been carrying that shit around for eons. I’m glad I told you.”
She laughed with the frightened kind of hysteria, so I smiled warmly at her. She took three deep breaths, and then her laugh turned into something more amused, like she was talking herself out of being scared.
“Well, won’t you get in trouble for outing yourself? I mean, won’t God be upset with you for telling me?” Now she was playing along.
“I don’t know. I’ve never met him. He’s kind of a private guy, and I’ve heard he has a temper.” I smirked. The truth was that I had no idea what was going to happen to me. I could still see Zack, but now he was outside of Evey’s window and miming different versions of a violent death. I pointed toward the window. “Can you see that, Evey?”
She looked outside, and then back at me. “See what?”
“Nothing,” I said.
Zack wouldn’t have done anything that stupid. After all, he was the one constantly blabbering about the rules.
“So, Lucian, ha! Great name, except that it sounds a bit like Lucifer.”
“He’s my cousin and he’s an ass, okay? The rumors are true. He’s not someone I associate with. Seriously, it’s a family name; it means nothing.”
Evey buckled over laughing.
“Hypothetically, Evey, say I wasn’t a celestial being created for the sole purpose of protecting ungrateful people like yourself, would you think it wise to taunt and tease me? A lunatic you picked up off the street and decided to invite into your apartment?”
“Hypothetically? Oh my gosh, you’re killing me. This is actually kind of fun. I’ll play along.” She sat in a chair near the fireplace and tapped her index finger on her chin. “So how do you know what your orders are if you don’t talk to God?”
“I have a liaison named Mona.” I looked at the ceiling. “How do I explain it? She’s basically like an overpaid consultant.”
“Overpaid consultant?” Evey was smiling and nodding, eyebrows arched.
“Uh, more like an overpaid supervisor.” What I really wanted to say was that Mona was the bane of my existence, a controlling, condescending bitch.
“Interesting,” Evey said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “What is she paid in… gold halos?”
I rolled my eyes. “No, she’s paid in money, silly. Have you not learned anything about the way the world works? I thought I taught you better than this.”
“Okay, so your consultant gives you advice on how to be an angel?”
“Something like that. She’s supposed to convey and interpret information. She’s a messenger, like a bike messenger, but high maintenance and obnoxious and not as athletic.”
“I see, so she’s the messenger kind of angel. What does that make you? Are you an archangel or something?”
“Do you really think I’d be drinking myself to death in shitty bars and sitting in your apartment having a redundant conversation if I were an archangel?”
She laughed. “I’m sorry I’m boring you. Why haven’t you told anyone until now?”
“Well, you know…” I smiled and opened my eyes wide. “You know, Evey. Come on?”
She shook her head, looking around. “What? No, I’ve no clue.”
“You know I could be sent”—I pointed at the floor and whispered—“down there.”
“Oh, I see. To burn in the fiery depths of hell for an eternity with your cousin Lucifer?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“So there is a hell?”
“I can’t be sure, but who would want to risk it?”
“This is fun, Lucian. You have quite the imagination. My life is complete now. I’ve met an angel who sits in bars, binge drinking and playing stupid songs on the jukebox.”
I chuckled. “I was bored. This is the second-most boring job in the universe, especially since I started following your ass around.”
“What’s the first? Wait a minute, did you say following my ass around?”
“The first most mind-numbingly boring job is being God of course. You’ve created everything”—I waved my hand back and forth, gesturing around the room—“so you know how it’s all gonna end. What’s the fun in that?” I shrugged. “Oh, and I follow you around because I’m a guardian angel. I’m your
guardian angel.”
Now Zack was hanging from an imaginary noose outside the window.
For a moment, it looked as though Evey was thinking about something serious, like perhaps she believed what I was saying or at least considering it, but then she laughed sarcastically. “So am I your only one?”
“You mean pain in the ass? Yeah, you’re the only one. They’ve been giving me a light caseload lately.” I shook my head, still in disbelief that my centuries of fucking penance hadn’t gotten me off probation.
“Why is that?”
“Nothing.” I didn’t feel like sharing my stupidity with her at the moment.
“Tell me, I’m dying to know.”
“Are you really dying, Evey? I’m very literal.” I shook my head. “I know you’re being sarcastic, so I’ll keep my career woes to myself, thank you very much.”
Her expression softened. “I’m actually curious to hear what you’ll come up with.”
“It wasn’t even my fault. One of my souls—Joan.” I sucked air in through my teeth. “It didn’t end so well. I had too many to handle at the time. I did fail her, but in my defense, she was an even bigger pain in the ass than you are. Now I’m on a probationary status, which makes an already boring job barely tolerable.”
“I’m totally appreciating your quick wit even though I know you’re completely full of shit. So this Joan woman, what happened?”
“It was a long time ago. She kept going over my head.” Even I was beginning to find humor in what I was telling her.
“Oh, haha! That’s hysterical. Joan of Arc, I get it. You should write this stuff down. Okay, so how long are you going to keep up the act?”
“It’s not an act, and honestly, Evey, I’m a little disappointed in you right now… in your faith and your bad choices tonight,” I said, looking pointedly at her.
“You are a strange person. I’m kinda hoping my roommate will come home soon, but you can just leave if you want. How were you wasted an hour ago—you could barely talk or walk—and now you’re sitting here making up elaborate stories? I thought you’d pass out the second you hit the couch.”
“Oh, well that’s easy to explain. My metabolism is a lot faster than yours. I can eat and drink a whole bunch.”
“Are you bragging, or are you saying you have some special angel quality that allows you to drink more alcohol?” She smirked.
“I’m not human. I don’t sleep—I can’t. I wish I could because you bore me to tears and I have to watch over you.”
“Uh huh. So you don’t sleep, but you get wasted?”
“There’s no rule about drinking and flying last time I checked, but I wouldn’t be much of a guardian angel if I slept on the job, now would I?”
“You’re a bit arrogant and completely insane, but you are definitely creative, I’ll give you that. Do your wings sprout out of your shirt when you take flight?”
“No, they’re always there. You just can’t see ’em.”
“I bet they’re big, huh?” She rolled her eyes.
“They’re huge. Did you see the size of my feet? Thirteens.” I pointed at my boots, bit my bottom lip, and wiggled my eyebrows. “All the other angels say size doesn’t matter, but wait till you see me in action.” I was still a little drunk. I was flirting with her. I was despicable.
“Great, so my guardian angel is a perverted narcissist.”
She’d left out that I was a drunk as well, which was a relief.
“Not a pervert, just stating the facts. Anyway”—I stood, took a step back, and waved my arms around—“all of you agnostics want proof, so I’ll give it to you.”
I was tired of hiding, lying, sneaking. I wanted her to know. I wanted to push the envelope and see if Mona would swoop in and banish me. The truth was that I couldn’t watch Evey anymore, not when she was dating, falling in love, hanging out with moronic apes. Mona refused to reassign me—she wouldn’t even let me plead my case, so I was done. I had been pushed too far, driven to alcoholism.
Come on, an alcoholic angel? I was a cliché. I hated myself. “I’m not gonna sit here and spew facts about every stage of your colorless, insipid, shallow life that I had to so painfully watch. I’m just not, okay? They always do that in movies, and I think, ‘Why not disappear and reappear? What’s the deal? We’re angels.’ I could turn into a fire-breathing dragon right now if I wanted to.” She suddenly looked terrified, so I held out my hand. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to scare you.”
“JUST GONNA POP out…”
He seemed to believe what he was saying. I wondered if he was an actor. And then, like an absolute dream—nope… nightmare—he clapped once and disappeared into thin fucking air.
I gasped. “Oh my God! Oh my God!” I fell to the floor and held my hand over my chest. I was having a heart attack. I was sure of it.
And then he reappeared. “And… pop back in,” he said, stumbling to the side. “Shit, I need to work on my reentry.”
“Oh God! Oh Lord,” I kept chanting.
“No, it’s Lucian. Why is everyone so obsessed with that guy?” He looked at me steadily, and then I think he saw the terror in my eyes, finally. “Shit.”
Lucian turned into Mrs. Obernickle, my preschool teacher. “Now, dear, don’t be scared.”
“This is not happening, this is not real. I’ve been drugged. I’m dreaming. Did you drug me so you could kill me?” I said to Mrs. Obernickle as I stood on shaky legs.
“Oh no, of course not, dear.”
As horrifying as the situation was, I found her voice and smell comforting. Still, my heart was beating out of my chest. I looked into her crystal-blue eyes, and I saw him. I whispered, “Lucian?”
He turned back into himself. “You rang?”
I just continued to blink at him until tears flooded my eyes. His expression softened; he braced my shoulders. I was scared at first, and then warmth rushed through my body. My knees buckled, and he swooped me off my feet as if I were as light as a feather. The warm feeling was familiar. He had done that to me before; I just hadn’t known it at the time.
I remembered once, when my mother forgot to pick me up at school, I had waited in the dark. I was terrified and cold. I started to cry, then that now-familiar warmth filled me. I remembered it because it was strange. When my mom had finally arrived, I told her I thought I had a fever. Lucian holding me in my apartment was a fever dream—it had to be—but I was starting to believe he had been there with me whenever I felt scared or alone.
I felt warm and safe as he carried me effortlessly over to the couch. Without words, he set me down, walked to the kitchen, and returned a moment later with chamomile tea.
“I put honey in it… the way you like it.” He smiled, seeming unsure as he handed it over. Then he stood back, took a deep breath, and ran his hand through his longish dark hair.
“Thank you,” I said.
“I’m really sorry about that. I just felt so free after telling you, I didn’t think about how it would make you feel.”
He lifted my legs, sat down and then pulled them up on his lap. He rested his head on the back of the couch and rubbed my shins in soft strokes. Warmth coursed through me the moment he and I made contact. I felt like I was in a bathtub. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
After twenty minutes of silence, I felt completely relaxed.
“More tea?” he asked.
I sat up. “Actually I think I want another drink.”
“It’s late.” Something had changed in him. He seemed resigned, but I felt absolutely at ease, even though my brain was still processing the impossible events that had occurred in front of my eyes moments earlier.
“Do you want a little red wine?” he asked.
“Mmhmm, but I don’t think I have any.”
He took his glass of water and handed it to me. The moment it was in my hand, the water became wine.
“I bet you have a lot more questions?” he said.
“Well, it’s not every day…”
r /> “Fire away.”
“So you’ve been watching over me my entire life?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
My eyes shot open. “So you’ve seen me…”
“Oh no, I don’t spy on you. I’ve never seen you naked. Except that one time.” He shook his head. “Never mind.”
“Were you Mrs. Obernickle?”
“Not all the time. Only when you cried at school… to comfort you. For a preschool teacher, she was kind of a cold bitch. God her perfume made me nauseous… still does.” He made a weird gagging sound and shook his head. I smiled, and he smiled back. “I liked it better when you were making fun of me and didn’t believe a word I said. I’m sorry I scared you, Evey.”
“Who else have you been in my life?”
“Um, the old guy you played chess with in the park.”
“Charlie? You were Charlie?”
“Only once you started getting good. He wasn’t challenging you anymore.”
“Ha! So where did you come from? Do you float around? Do you live somewhere?”
“I basically just follow you around. Sometimes when I know you’re all right, I take off and do my own thing.” His demeanor was sweet, almost shy now. “I followed you home earlier and saw you looking out the window. I thought you were going to bed, but then you showed up at the bar again.”
“So why didn’t I see you outside?”
He seemed to be pondering what he should tell me. “Did you see the woman walking a little white dog?”
“That was you?”
“Yeah. I’m whoever, whenever I need to be. I got lazy at the bar when you were with that guy. Honestly, Evelyn, that guy?” He scowled. “You were all swept up in him, so I didn’t go to great lengths to disguise myself. Not that it would have mattered.” His tone was strangely bitter. “We’re not supposed to reveal what we really look like to our souls.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re just not. It’s hard to explain.”
“Try me.”
“Do you know what transference is? Like with patients and doctors?”
“I think I do. So you think that I’d fall in love with you or something because your job is to protect me?” It wouldn’t be hard. He smelled delicious, looked incredibly sexy, and his touch was spellbinding.