I had to admit his determination was impressive and so typically human. I wriggled closer to snuggle under his arm.
“Let’s not talk about it anymore tonight,” I suggested, reluctant to ruin the moment by discussing things we didn’t have the power to change. For now, it was enough that he wanted me to stay and that he was prepared to take on heavenly powers to make that happen. “We’re here together right now, let’s not worry about the future. Okay?”
Xavier nodded and responded when I pressed my lips against his. After a moment the tension seemed to slip away, and we fell back onto the sand. I could feel the contours of our bodies fitting perfectly together. His arms wound around my waist as I ran my fingers through his soft hair, stroking his face. I’d never kissed anyone before him, but I felt as if a stranger had taken over my body — a stranger who knew exactly what she was doing. I tilted my head to plant kisses along his jawline, down to the base of his neck and along his collarbone. He stopped breathing for a moment. His hands came up to hold my face, stroking my hair and tucking it behind my ears.
I wasn’t sure how long we stayed that way, tangled together on the sand, sometimes locked in an embrace, sometimes looking up at the moon or the rugged cliffs above us. All I knew was that when I became aware of the hour, more time had passed than I’d thought. I pulled myself up, dusting sand from my clothes and skin.
“It’s getting late,” I said. “I have to get home.”
The sight of Xavier, sprawled on the sand, his hair ruffled, a dreamy half-smile on his lips, was so alluring that I was tempted to sink back down beside him. But I managed to compose myself and turned to head back the way we’d come.
“Uh, Beth,” Xavier said, getting up. “You might want to um… cover up.”
It took me a moment to realize that my wings were still fully visible through my torn dress. “Oh right, thanks!” He tossed me his sweatshirt, which I pulled over my head. It was way too big for me and reached halfway down my thighs, but it was warm, comfortable, and smelled deliciously of him. When we finally parted, I ran the rest of the way home feeling like he was still beside me. I knew I would sleep with his shirt on that night and commit the scent to memory.
When I reached the overgrown backyard of Byron, I raked my fingers hastily through my hair and rearranged my clothes in an attempt to look like I’d been for an innocent social stroll rather than a secret tryst on a moonlit beach. Then I slumped down in the heavy wooden swing, which creaked under my weight. I rested my cheek against the rough rope that was looped around a gnarled branch of the oak tree in our yard and looked toward the house. I could see through the window to the living room, where my brother and sister were sitting in the lamplight, Ivy knitting a pair of gloves and Gabriel strumming his guitar. Looking at them, I felt the icy tendrils of guilt wrapping around my chest.
There was a full moon and the garden was awash with blue light, illuminating a crumbling statue that stood among the high grass. It was of a severe angel, looking Heavenward, its hands folded over its chest in a gesture of devotion. Gabriel thought it a poor replica and somewhat offensive, but Ivy said it was sweet. Personally I had always thought it was a little eerie. I wasn’t sure if it was the light playing tricks on me or just my imagination, but as I gazed at the statue in the semidarkness, I thought I saw one of its stone fingers twitch in accusation and its eyes roll forward to look directly at me.
The illusion lasted but a second, long enough for me to leap off the swing, causing it to collide with the tree trunk with a resounding thwack. Before I could examine the angel again and determine whether my sanity was in question, I was distracted by the sound of the glass doors sliding open. Ivy came out onto the deck, looking like a wraith. The moonlight pooled across her snowy skin, highlighting the blue-green veins in her arms and chest.
“Bethany, is that you?” Her voice poured out like honey, and the expression on her face was painfully trusting. My stomach twisted into a knot and I felt sick. She spotted me half hidden by the shadow of the tree. “What are you doing over there?” she asked. “Come inside.”
Everything was reassuringly familiar in the house. The yellow lamplight reflected off the floorboards, Phantom’s pawprint-patterned bed was in its usual place beside the sofa, and Ivy’s carefully arranged selection of classical art books and interior-decorating magazines sat on the low coffee table.
Gabriel looked up when I came in.
“Have a good night?” he asked with a smile.
I tried to return the smile but found that the muscles in my face were frozen. I felt as though the weight of what I’d done was pressing down on me, like a wave crashing over me, forcing my head underwater so I couldn’t breathe. When I was with Xavier, it was easy to forget that I had any other place in the world, that I owed allegiance to anyone else.
I didn’t regret revealing the truth to Xavier, but I hated subterfuge, especially where my family was concerned. I was terrified of how my siblings would react when they found out what I’d done. Could I somehow make them understand why I’d done it? But most of all I was afraid that the powers in the Kingdom would end our mission or demand my immediate withdrawal. Either way, I would be taken away from earth, away from the one person who mattered most to me.
Gabriel must have noticed I was wearing Xavier’s sweatshirt, but he refrained from comment. Although part of me wanted to confess everything on the spot, I forced myself to stay silent. I apologized for being late, said I was tired and excused myself, refusing the offer of cocoa and cookies that Ivy had baked that afternoon.
Gabriel called to me as I reached the foot of the stairs, and I waited as he strode over. My heart fluttered in my chest. My brother was frighteningly observant, and I was sure he’d noticed that I wasn’t myself. I waited for him to examine my face, ask awkward questions, or make some accusation, but all he did was lay one hand against my cheek so that I felt the cool metal of his rings and gently kiss my forehead. His exquisite face looked so at ease that night. His blond hair had escaped from the band he sometimes used to tie it up. His rain-colored eyes had lost some of their sternness, and he was looking at me with brotherly affection.
“I’m proud of you, Bethany,” he said. “You’ve made great progress in such a short time, and you are learning to make better decisions. Take Phantom up with you — he was fretting for you earlier.”
It took all my resolve to hold back my tears.
Upstairs, as I lay in bed with Phantom’s warm body beside me, I let them spill freely. I swore I could feel my lies slithering inside me like snakes, wrapping themselves around me and constricting. I felt they were squeezing the air from my lungs, tightening around my heart. Aside from the raking guilt that was coursing like a poison through my body, there was also a terrible fear. When I woke up, would I still be on earth? I didn’t know. I wanted to pray but I couldn’t. I was too ashamed to speak to Our Father after the sins I’d committed. I’d only held on to my secret for a few hours and already I was undone.
Mingled with my guilt and shame was a new latent anger at the thought that my fate wasn’t mine to determine. Xavier had put that idea into my head. My relationship with him would be decided for me, and the worst part of it was that I didn’t know when it would happen. My time on earth came with an unknown expiration date. What if I didn’t even get to say good-bye to him? I kicked off my bedclothes, even though my skin felt as cold as ice. I was beginning to think I couldn’t envisage an existence without Xavier. I didn’t want to.
Hours later my thoughts were still raging, and nothing had changed except that my pillow was damp with tears. I drifted in and out of sleep. Sometimes I woke and sat bolt upright, scanning the darkness for a sign of something or someone come to deal out my punishment. Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord. At one point I woke to see a hooded figure that I imagined had come to seek retribution, but it turned out to be my coat hanging from a stand next to my door. I was afraid to close my eyes after that, as if doing so would make me more vulnerable. It was irrational to feel that way. I knew that if they did come for me, it wouldn’t make any difference whether I was asleep or awake. I would be utterly powerless.