Author's note: If you happen to be an impatient sort of person, you might like to know that I've been posting smaller, more regular bits of this over on my blog: hasu-hime. livejournal. com :) Also, I'd just like to thank everyone for their comments! It's good to know I'm doing something right. This chapter's a little bit heavy towards the end, but rest assured it won't continue so. It just wouldn't be realistic if it steered completely clear of sadness after everything that's happened, you know?
Gabriel smoothed his thumbs tenderly over her wrists, knowing he'd startled her. She peered up at him, but he saw no fear as her shoulders relaxed. He couldn't say why he held on, but it wasn't until she nodded in accord that his grip loosened and her hands sank to her sides. She didn't run, or even flinch, and he realised that it wasn't he, himself that disturbed her, but that which he stood for.
He glanced at the bloody pile of metal and leather at his feet. There was a time when none of this was necessary, he thought wearily. What has become of us?
A low, rumbling growl interrupted his reverie. He turned to Audrey, who chewed her lip in embarrassment, one hand pressed to her stomach as if it could quieten it and her eyes focused on the floorboards.
"Um... do angels eat?" She asked.
He couldn't help himself. Levity fizzed in his chest as he laughed, particularly at the hopefulness in her voice.
"There's an open suitcase in the room next door," he told her, wiping away the fresh trail of blood his amusement had caused and nodding in the direction of which he spoke, "and a pool outside. Take what you need and bathe; the water will be warm. I'm sure your body must ache." He strode towards the door. "I won't be longer than an hour."
"Wait... is that a yes, then?" Audrey called after him as he rounded the corner and out of sight. He merely chuckled again in response.
Rubbing her empty belly in mild irritation, she wondered what kind of clothes the suitcase might have in it and stepped out into the narrow corridor to investigate.
"While I'm gone –" She gave a shrill squeal of surprise to find Gabriel just inches from her on the left of the door. As she spun in shock to look at him, she lost her balance. A vast, black wing erupted forth and she stumbled into a wall of soft, black feathers. Its owner reached out to pull her upright and held her by the shoulders before him.
"Don't go into the poolhouse," he warned earnestly, then released her and left without another word.
Audrey was rooted to the spot; she suddenly felt very exposed. When God had been the enemy, Michael was there to protect her. When her parents were both gone, Charlie and Jeep had taken her with them. As she lay in the middle of a desert road, dying faster than the darkness, Gabriel had been there to save her. Now she was alone.
She twisted to face the small, grimy window that offered the dim corridor a shaft of daylight to better flaunt its hideous, peeling wallpaper. A small, rectangular swimming pool filled the courtyard below, between the continuation of the main building either side, and what looked like a large shed made of rusty, corrugated iron at the back. The water looked like a swamp; the surface was thick with algae and topped with dead leaves. She dreaded to think what other dead things might be in it. I am not getting in that, she thought tenaciously.
Gabriel was down there now. He approached the edge of the green goop and stooped to one knee. What is he doing? A second later, she fought with her gag reflexes as she found out. He dipped his fingers in, looking up at her, and smiled at her horrified face. Great, green globules of gas began to appear on the surface, popping messily like blisters as they came more frequently, until the centre of the pool bubbled and frothed, lighter and lighter in shade. The white foam oozed across every inch of slime, then died away to reveal crystal clear water. Audrey's eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline.
"Well shit," she muttered to herself as Gabriel stood and kicked off from the poolside into the air. "Show-off."
After watching him circle and swoop up over the roof above her, she turned to the closed door behind which the suitcase supposedly lay. Her footsteps were muffled by the grubby carpet; No wonder he snuck up so easily, she thought absentmindedly.
With her hand around the brass doorknob, she paused, her heart hammering. She remembered Gabriel's assurance that the battle against Heaven's creepiest bastard emissaries was over, but after all she'd seen in the past two days, she felt pretty justified in her trepidation.
Counting to three, she flung the door open; it hit the wall inside with a thud. It looked exactly the same as the room she'd awoken in, except lived-in. Laughing at her stupidity, she went inside.
CRASH. Audrey shrieked and whirled around, her back slamming against the wall. A shattered picture frame lay propped up against the skirting board, surrounded by broken glass. Her over-energetic entrance had obviously knocked it down. Clutching at her chest, she slid down into a crouch.
"Fuck," she breathed.
As she looked around, she could see that it had accommodated a woman. Lacy, colourful undergarments were strewn across the floor; cosmetics littered the dresser-top below the mirror. A gold crucifix necklace hung from the bedpost, along with a dainty charm bracelet: a heart, a butterfly, a padlock, a tiny key and a feather.
She moved forward for a better look, examining each of them in turn. The butterfly was embossed with beautiful, intricate patterns; the lock featured a tiny, lavender gem. When she picked up the heart, she noticed it had a hinge on one side. As she opened the little locket, a scrap of folded paper fell into her lap. Curious, she looked inside. Forever yours, it read, in minute, hand-written letters. Audrey put it back, speculating about who it might have been from.
She got up and paced across to the mirror. A packet of makeup wipes lay among the clutter; peeling back the seal, she took one to clean her face. She was more than a little aghast at the state of it when she looked up: the rain and her tears had created faded black circles around her eyes and dark smudges and streaks intermingled with dried blood, which seemed to have originated from somewhere amongst her mousey-brown hair - it was thoroughly matted into one side. She could feel tight veins of crimson crust down the back of her neck, too, tugging on her skin as she moved.
Erasing the mess, she explored the opposite corner of the room, where the suitcase lay on the floor, lid open, supported by the wall. At first glance, its contents looked like the belongings of a lawyer.
"Ugh," Audrey huffed, rolling her head in exasperation and dropping into a squat. Rifling beneath the top few garments, however, she found a wide array of more casual clothes: a button-down dress, a pair of skinny jeans, t-shirts, tank tops and summery, girly skirts. She glanced around; there was no sign of any worn blouses or pencil skirts about, which made her wonder if the neatly pressed business attire had been a ruse.
She pulled out a pretty, white top and held it up in front of her. It had a smock seam across the chest, above which was lace, with tiny trims around the shoulders for sleeves. It wasn't really her kind of thing, but she'd spotted a pair of dark denim mini-shorts and shrugged to herself as she pulled them out.
At the bottom, she discovered a couple of large towels and various pairs of shoes, only a size bigger than her own. She took an ivory bath sheet and laid her cleansing wipe on the floor as she weighed up her options. Sandals or boots? The sandals were flat and tan in colour, with a string of gold beads down the front, but she figured the size difference might be less noticeable in the brown, leather cowboy ankle-boots and added them to the bundle she held in one arm.
Reaching her arm into one of the zip-pockets in the lid, she found folded underwear and socks. No way, she thought, making a face; I'd rather go commando.
In the next pocket there were bottles of shampoo, conditioner and shower gel, and, having everything she needed, she made for the door. As she passed over the threshold, though, she hesitated, looking back over her shoulder at the jewellery on the bedpost. Her feet carried her back inside and next she knew, she was peering down at the crucifix resting on her fingertips.
Gabriel's instructions had been clear. Take what you need.
"I don't need a murderer."
Audrey left the little box room, full of bitterness and poison. Her fiery fury overpowered her consternation about the vacant motel as she came to the end of the corridor and skimmed down the stairs that had led Gabriel outside. They brought her to a wood-panelled room with a desk, presumably reception, small and filthy like everything else she'd encountered thus far. The only window was the frosted one in the wine-red door, which she marched directly for, ignoring the eerie hissing coming from the radio.
She found herself on a narrow path running along the side of the building. Next to the entrance, on the right, stood a tall, iron gate, its black paint blistered and peeling. Beyond, the pool's sparkling waters beckoned.
Dropping her pile on the flagstone floor, which looked cleaner than the plastic loungers surrounding her, she kicked off her shoes. The desert sun warmed her bare shoulders but she scowled as she stood the bottles by the poolside and laid the towel next to them. She wondered where all her own belongings were now; whether the moving van had ever reached the new house in Palm Springs, or if it, too, found itself stranded in the middle of fuck-knows-where, lost and purposeless.
The zipper on her tattered skirt came down easily and she let it fall around her ankles, but the laced front of her corset-like camisole took more patience than she currently had. Fumbling with the knotted ribbon, she only pulled it tighter. In temper – one of Audrey's most reliable traits – she yanked on the straps and snapped them like strips of paper. It took a fair bit of wriggling, but she finally got the rigid top up over her head and hurled it across the courtyard, panting.
The offending article hit the poolhouse above the door and disappeared behind where it stood ajar. She stared, unseeing, as angry tears welled in her stinging eyes. Letting them come, unchecked, she removed the remainder of her clothing and eased herself into the warm water, contemplating absently how long angel parlour tricks lasted.
It was so quiet; over the years, she'd garnered a forbearance for ambient noise, her parents' quarrels being so frequent and raucous. Her mother had been a proud creature, her father less serious and totally unconcerned with the opinions of others. She recalled his question about her outfit in the diner and laughed through her heartache as she lathered the clumps of blood in her hair with shampoo. She'd known it wasn't his discrepancy; he'd made that clear by saying her mother wanted to know. If it had, she'd have been upset.
Her dad had always been resigned to let her be herself, knowing that she'd work it out in the end, and she loved him for it. To make her own mistakes was to learn, firsthand, the importance of sense and sensibility. She valued the freedom of self-discovery highly; he'd taught her to, because blind reliance on others got you nowhere.
Salty droplets rolled down her heat-flushed face and splashed into the water below, sending ripples gliding among the floating suds around her shoulders. She closed her eyes as a cool, soothing breeze swept by and the scent of macadamia and aloe filled her nose. Drawing a deep breath, Audrey leaned back, letting her hair fan out around her under the swaying surface, and her body float to the top, buoyed by the air continuously expanding and deflating her lungs.