Chapter Twenty-Nine
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She was sitting on the edge of the bed when Edward woke. He'd been having a lovely dream about Bella and pancakes and syrup, but it faded from his memory as he looked at her. She looked bad ... very bad. Her skin was a sickly gray and she had dark smudges under her eyes. He would bet that she'd lost ten pounds during the time he'd been gone. He'd noticed that last night, that he could see her ribs beneath her skin and that her hipbones had poked up into his. Her headache was terrible, even with Edward taking half of the pain. He didn't want to admit it, even to himself, that something was terribly wrong with his Bella, but he was beginning to accept that she might not have the long, full human life that he wanted for her. He grieved for it already.
She must have heard him move because she spoke without turning around. "Did you know that Amun is a cherub?"
Edward sat up. "He's the Guardian?" The possibility had never occurred to him, but it made sense in retrospect: the ability to dampen the powers of those around him, the fast healing, the way he'd never quite fit into any of the categories that Edward tried to assign to him.
"Yeah, he said 'Guardian of the Gate', or something like that."
Edward raked his hands through his hair. "I had no idea." He sent a silent request up to the Highest One to equip future angels with the ability to correctly detect and identify supernatural creatures.
"But you know what a cherub is, right?" Bella asked. She blinked several times. Her vision was slightly blurry and she was trying to force her eyes to focus. He hoped it was just the extreme exhaustion she was feeling.
"I knew that there was one, created to guard the veil between worlds, but I never heard what happened to him once the Gate was shut."
"He said that God sometimes needs evil things done for fate to play out as its supposed to. Does that mean he's evil?"
"He wasn't created to be," Edward said. "Neutral, I guess would be the best way to describe it. If he's evil now, it's because he chose to go in that direction."
Bella shuddered. "The idea that he might have chosen to become evil is even more scary than him being created that way." Her thoughts streamed through his mind, her fear that she was making the same choice, that she was slipping down a sloping path into evil herself and her guilt over the ugly promise she'd forced from him.
"If it's a choice, he can come back from it." He hoped she would take this to heart and know that even if she strayed from the path, she could always return to it.
"But wouldn't being evil do something permanent to your soul? Like, damage it in some way?"
"Yes, but if he's the cherubim, he has no soul."
"Dave thinks he's evil. The 'black man', he called him. So, what should we do? Use the Pup-O-Matic Evil Detector to see if he's still 'black' or merely a dark gray now?"
Edward pondered. He took the end of one wing in his hands and began to preen it. His back was sore and itchy where his wings had been reattached, but they were healing well. "It would take a while for him to come out of it," he said. "And evil can be addictive."
That sent his Bella back into thoughts of what she had done to the people that hurt him and he hastily spoke to take her mind from it. "He could change, with the right incentive."
"Incentive? Like what you said about Alice leading Collin back to the light? That he might change for her? I don't think Amun really loves me, Edward I think he wants me and he admires me, and he's calling that love."
"The cherubim was created without human emotions, or at least that's what I was told. It was intentional, to keep him from taking pity on those with sad stories who wanted to slip through the gate and to keep him from being distracted or weakened. If Amun really is the cherubim and he's telling the truth about his feelings for you ... I don't know what to think."
Bella rubbed her temples. He was carrying as much of her pain as he could, but it was still severe. Edward was grateful that there were no plans for today. Bella needed the rest. He was pretty sure she hadn't slept at all last night.
"I'll be right back," he told her, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Pants!" she called. Edward chuckled and pulled on the pair of sweatpants he took from the drawer. He had the feeling he might spend the rest of Bella's life on earth and still have to be reminded to wear clothes.
He went out into the hallway and knocked on Collin's door. He heard a rustle and then a soft giggle. Footsteps. Collin opened the door and stuck his head out. "What?"
"I need something for my Bella's pain, something that will make her sleep."
Collin sighed. "She's not doing good, huh?" He opened the door wider and Edward stepped inside. Collin went over to the red metal toolbox he used as a medical kit and began to rifle through it. The bedroom door hadn't been closed all the way and Edward caught a quick glimpse of a female form walking past the opening, a form he instantly identified from the tiny size and dark, spiky hair. Alice. She was wearing a man's t-shirt, and below it her legs were bare.
Collin held up a little glass bottle and poked a syringe into it. He drew out the fluid and when he had enough, he disengaged it from the bottle and tapped it with flicks of his middle finger. He pressed the plunger until a bead of liquid appeared at the top and then slipped a plastic cover on it. "This'll take care of her. It's the shit that killed Elvis."
Edward became alarmed. "I don't want-"
Collin cut him off with a laugh. "I'm sorry, man. It's slang. Just an expression, you know. It means 'this is good shit'. It'll put her under for a good six hours and the painkiller lasts a couple more hours on top of that. I'll come 'round at ..." he glanced at his watch, "... around four o'clock or so to check on her and give her another hit if she needs it."
He took an alcohol swab packet from the top of the kit and offered both items to Edward. Edward took them. "What do I do?"
Collin shrugged. "It's intramuscular. Stick it in her arm or her backside about this deep." He pointed to a spot on the needle. "And then slowly press the plunger. Okay? Now I'd love for you to stay and chat, you being my favorite angel and all, but I'm really very busy." Collin nudged Edward toward the door.
"What about side effects?" Edward asked. He had seen enough drug commercials on television to know that medications sometimes caused bizarre and awful reactions.
Collin pushed him inexorably out the door. Edward looked dubiously at the syringe in his hand. "She'll be fine, I promise. I gave her this shit while we were on the ship and she was okay. Go on now. Shoo."
Collin shut the door firmly and Edward heard a feminine squeal a moment later. He wondered if she should tell his Bella about Alice and Collin. Alice wasn't the kind of girl to sleep with a man without feeling some kind of commitment toward him. He knew Bella would be disappointed. She wanted Alice with her brother, but Jasper had backed off when he saw Alice's interest in Collin. Edward had coaxed him to be more assertive and show Alice that he had feelings for her, but Jasper thought the battle was lost before it even started. He now watched her from the sidelines, ready to swoop in if she should need anything, but otherwise only a lonely shadow on the periphery of Alice's life.
Edward went back down the hallway toward his suite. Jane stepped out of the one she shared with Esme with Dave in her arms. She had a white plastic grocery bag in one of her hands. She wore a pink sweatsuit and a matching headband that made her look like the little girl she was.
"Hello," he said to both of them.
"Don't worry," Jane said. "We're going to the front of the hotel, right in front of the bellhop stand." Simultaneously, Dave was telling him about how Edward's puppy took him outside and then picked up his waste with the white crinkly thing and then threw it into various receptacles that had many interesting smells. He thought that Edward should be proud that she was protecting them by marking the boundaries of their territory with Dave's scent. Edward gave Dave an affectionate pat.
"Be careful," he cautioned Jane. "Maybe you should wait until one of the guys-"
"Edward, I'm not helpless," Jane reminded him. She glanced down at his hand. "What's that?"
"A shot for Bella, to help her sleep."
Jane nodded. "Yeah, she needs it. Honestly, I don't think she's slept since you were kidnapped, but that can't be possible because I read somewhere that people go nuts after just a few days' without sleep."
Edward gave Jane a hug. "Thanks for taking such good care of Bella while I was gone."
Jane flushed a little. "No biggie. Just make sure it doesn't happen again, 'kay?"
"'Kay," he repeated. He kissed the top of her head and Jane set off down the hallway toward the elevators.
Edward went the opposite direction, back to their room. He took the little keycard out of the pocket of his sweat pants and inserted it in the slot. No matter how many times he did this, he still enjoyed it. He yanked the card out and the light turned green. Edward grinned and considered doing it again, but decided against it because he needed to get his Bella her medicine.
He found her sitting in the living room, staring at the television. The Nebraska earthquake was still the top story. "Let me see your arm," Edward said.
Bella didn't object when he pushed up the sleeve of her t-shirt. He rubbed her skin with the little alcohol pad. He took the cap off the needle and pushed it into Bella's arm. She winced a little and it hurt his heart that he was the one to cause her pain, no matter how slight.
"What is it?" she asked. Edward withdrew the empty syringe and patted the tiny drop of blood that welled up in its wake with the alcohol pad.
"I don't know the name, but it's supposed to help you sleep."
"That's good," Bella said and turned her attention back to the TV.
"Bella, come lie down with me," Edward coaxed. "I want to cuddle."
She rose and shambled like a zombie into the bedroom and sprawled on the bed. Edward pulled the top sheet and blanket up over her and got in on his side. (He always slept on the side nearest to the door for her protection, so that any enemies would have to go through him to get to her.) She molded her body into his own, like two puzzle pieces joined, and they both sighed with pleasure.
"I think I'll dye my hair back to its original color," she said, apropos of nothing.
He nodded. "I've missed your hair. You always look pretty to me, but I like the real Bella the best."
She smiled and her eyes looked soft and dreamy. It was a look that he missed. Since she began using her Gift as a weapon, she'd been hardening herself, trying to insulate her soft heart. He hoped that when this was all over, they could peel off those layers she'd built up and she could be herself once more.
"You have to be the sweetest man alive. Do you know that?"
"I love you and I think you're the most beautiful woman in the world," he said with complete honesty. Bella had no idea how beautiful she really was. Deep in her mind, she still recalled the cruel taunts and put-downs from the kids at school. He wondered if it was a peculiarity of Bella's mind that she readily believed the worst about herself but struggled to give any credence to compliments, or if all humans were that way.
She was silent for a moment as she gazed at him. Her mind was such a whirl of thoughts that he struggled to follow them. "Edward, are you okay?"
"Sure," he said.
"No, really, are you okay?" she asked insistently. "You went through a very traumatic situation. They hurt you."
"The worst part was being away from you."
"Dr. Michaels told me what they did to you." Bella's speech was a little garbled and she seemed to struggle to properly form the words. The drug must be taking effect.
"I wish you didn't know," he said. "I don't want you to have to think about it."
Her eyes filled with tears. "I can't believe that anyone could hurt you like that. It makes me so angry that-" She cut off and closed her eyes.
"I know," he said softly. "I could feel your rage."
"All of Nebraska felt it," Bella mumbled.
He kissed her forehead. "Sleep now, Bella."
She didn't argue. He felt a swooping sensation in his mind: hers tumbling into sleep. He waited until she was deeply under before he slid from the bed. He kept a mental ear cocked in her direction. She wasn't dreaming; she may have been too deeply asleep for that, but he wanted to make sure any dreams she had were pleasant ones.
He left their suite and went to Amun's. Amun opened the door before Edward could even knock. "I wondered how long it would be before you came down here. Come on in. I ordered breakfast."
Edward stepped inside and saw that Amun's dining table had been set, with two silver covered dishes waiting. Edward took a seat where Amun indicated and lifted the cover. Pancakes! He slathered them with butter and dumped the entire contents of the small porcelain pitcher of syrup on top of them before he remembered his manners and said, "Thank you."
Amun looked slightly amused. "You're welcome."
Edward consumed three large bites before he said, "You are the cherubim?"
Amun nodded. He had ordered a rare steak and eggs for his breakfast but he poked at them listlessly with his fork instead of eating.
"What I don't understand is that you say you have feelings for Bella, feelings you're not supposed to be capable of having."
Amun sat back in his chair. "Trust me when I saw that I'm just as surprised as you are. An eternity of existence untroubled by sentiment, until now. I can't say that I'm particularly enjoying the change."
"Why now?" Edward asked.
"I don't know. I wish I did."
Edward gazed at him steadily and Amun's coal-black eyes didn't waver. Edward couldn't read him, couldn't determine whether or not he was telling the truth. He'd told so many lies about what he was that it was difficult to accept anything he said. Edward returned to his pancakes.
"I know she loves you," Amun said. "And I know I can't change that, as much as I wish I could. I envy you, which is also a new experience for me. I long for what you have. And I hate you for it."
Edward nodded. He speared the last bite and swirled it in the remaining syrup before popping it in his mouth.
"I'm going alone to take care of Aro," Amun told him.
"But you said-"
Amun waved his hand. "I'll find a new crew. Maybe I'll take Quil with me."
"Why?"
"Because I don't think Bella will survive much more of this." Amun tossed down his napkin on the table and dropped his fork atop his uneaten meal. He put the cover back over his plate and shoved it to the side. "Body or spirit."
"She thinks that this is her mission from God," Edward said.
Amun snorted. "Humans have a way of putting words in God's mouth and they often find that, coincidentally enough, the Almighty wants the same thing they want. Bella wants the Theta Project destroyed, not because God told her to do it, but because of her own feelings about it."
"How would you know?" Edward challenged. "Perhaps God is guiding her in a way he knew would work."
Amun's black eyes glittered. "She's going to die, Edward. And it likely won't be from a bullet or blade, but from her own fucking brain melting in her skull."
"From what I've seen in her memories, you urged her on."
Amun rose to his feet. "This conversation is over. I'm leaving in the morning. Tell Bella ... Well, tell her whatever you wish."
Then, they both heard a scratching sound at the door.
The winged-man's puppy put Dave down on the grass and he began to sniff, looking for the perfect spot. It was a difficult choice. There were so many scents out here that he should cover with his own, the scent of other dogs, the scent of peoplefeet, even the scent of a cat. He had barely finished with his business when one of those metal roaring beasts with the sunshine eyes rolled up beside them. Its side opened and humans spilled out, humans with shiny-bangs. Baddogs! He knew it the instant he saw them.
The puppy screamed as two of them grabbed her, and Dave growled. The baddogs released her as soon as they'd touched her, clamping their paws to their heads and howling. They fell to the ground and one of them landed in the pile Dave had left behind.
One of the humans who stood behind the tall box by the den opening ran toward the baddogs, vocalizng loudly. One of the baddogs raised his shiny-bang and the sound of it was so loud that it hurt Dave's ears. The human clamped a paw to his abdomen where blood gushed and fell to the ground with that terrible stillness of deadthings.
The baddog pointed the shiny-bang at the puppy, so Dave sprang into action. He charged the man, barking as loudly as he could and lunged at his leg. He clamped his teeth down hard and the baddog yelped. He shook his leg to try to dislodge Dave. The puppy ran for the den and the man pointed the shiny-bang at her and the noise of it was deafening. The puppy fell down, blood soaking her flatfur.
The baddog kicked his leg so hard that Dave flew off and slammed into the tall, smelly thing where the puppy put Dave's waste. Dave flopped to the ground, whining. It hurt. He forced himself to his feet but fell back down when he tried to put weight on his front leg. It didn't seem to work any more. He saw the puppy rise to her feet and glare in the baddog's direction. Dave limped forward, growling his most fearsome growl. And it worked! The baddog clamped his paws to his head and screeched. All three of the baddogs were now on the ground, rolling as they clutched their heads. Dave was startled but proud. It was a very ferocious growl, after all.
Dave reached the door and the puppy scooped him up. Dave whined at the pain of her hand on his ribs, and he fought the instinct to bite. The puppy didn't mean to hurt him. Humans had surrounded her, vocalizing in alarm. They tried to hold her in place and Dave growled again, prepared to bite more ankles. She pushed them aside and ran through the den, limping herself, leaving a trail of red dots of blood. He hoped the baddogs weren't good hunters.
The puppy took them into the magic box, punching her paw hard at the glow-spots. The magic box intrigued Dave because when the doors opened, they were always somewhere else, even though they had stood in one place. The doors closed and the puppy huddled against the corner, her chest heaving. She made odd choking sounds and water streamed down her face. Dave reached up and licked her face. It tasted like the Big Water where he had waited for the winged-man.
The door opened and they were in a different place, but here he could smell his pack, their dens all in a row. The puppy reached her own den and opened the covering that kept baddogs out. She put Dave down on the floor and opened the smallest den, the one where the humans stored their flatfur. She crawled inside and shut the covering. Dave thought she must have forgotten him because he was outside it. He whined and pawed at the covering with his good leg, but she didn't respond. He could hear the puppy's gasping chokes. It sounded like she was having trouble breathing.
So, Dave did the only thing he could do. The covering to the row of dens hadn't closed all the way yet. He darted through the opening and followed the freshest trail he could find for the winged-man, surprised that it led to the den of the man with the black aura.
Dave sat down in front of the covering and scratched at it with his good leg.
Edward threw the door open and found Dave on the floor in front of it. He was holding one paw aloft. When he saw Edward, he stood up respectfully, but still held that paw up off the floor.
"Are you hurt? What happened?"
Three baddogs tried to take our puppy, Dave told him. But I growled and they fell down. He showed Edward a mental image of the events and when Dave came to the part where Jane was shot, Edward scooped up Dave and ran for Jane's room. "You are a very good boy," he told Dave. "Good boy for coming to get me, and for protecting our pack's puppy."
Dave wagged his tail feebly.
Edward knocked on the door of the room Jane and Esme shared. "Jane! Jane! It's Edward. Let me in."
There was no answer and Edward's heart clenched in fear. He put Dave on the floor, backed up and slammed against the door, busting the lock and one of the hinges in the process. He pushed it aside and entered the room.
Jane was still hiding in the closet. Edward slid the door open an inch or so. "Jane, honey, it's Edward. I need you to come out so I can see how badly you're hurt."
"No!" Jane cried. Her terrified sobs were painful to hear.
"Can I come inside with you, then?" he asked.
Jane hiccuped and there was a long pause before she said, "Okay."
He slid the door open and crawled inside. Jane had her hand pressed to her stomach and her pink sweatsuit was soaked red. "Were is Esme?" he asked her, his voice calm but his insides a riotous jumble.
"S- she went t-to the d-drug store." Hiccup. "Sh- she should b- be back soon."
"Edward! What on earth?"
At that moment, Esme's voice was one of the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard. He backed out of the closet. "Jane is hurt. Shot." He spoke in a low, fast tone and Esme's bewildered expression became one of brisk efficiency, an expression one would see on the face of an experienced nurse dealing with a sudden influx of patients.
"I've got to tell the others; we have to get out of here," Edward said.
Esme nodded. "Go."
Edward dashed back down the hall to Amun's suite. He was still standing in the doorway, watching curiously. "Emergency evacuation," Edward said. "They know we're here. Jane was shot."
Amun whipped out his cell phone. "Grab Bella," he said. "Be on the roof in ten minutes." There was a sound of sirens and Amun darted over to the window. He peered out and punched at the buttons on his phone. "Make that five minutes."
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A/N: "Better Angels" has been nominated for "Fic of the Week" at The Lemonade Stand. I'm awed, flattered and deeply appreciative to the person who nominated the story and anyone who voted for me.
