Angelfire
Page 84
He didn't answer.
"Guess not. I know you needed to eat after the fight tonight."
"I real y don't want to eat right now."
I smiled. "Don't move." I went to the kitchen and explored my fridge. I was lucky to find a half-empty two-liter bottle of root beer in there, and a carton of vanil a ice cream in the freezer. I made a float, smiling fondly to myself as I stuck a spoon and straw into the glass and I took the sugary concoction upstairs.
Wil stil hadn't moved.
I stopped in front of him and held the float out. He looked up at me, his eyes flashing, and he grinned.
"El ie . . ."
"You aren't going to pass up a fabulous root beer float, are you?" I winked playful y.
He gave a gentle laugh and took the glass. I sat down on the bed beside him and watched him eat.
"Since I made it," I said, "I get a sip and a bite."
That beautiful smile widened. "Agreed."
He gave me the spoon, and I took a bite of ice cream and then sipped a gulp of creamy root beer to wash it down.
"Mmm, that had better be the best damn root beer float you've ever had."
"It is, trust me." He watched me for a moment before he took the straw back and stirred. "However, it's even better when the ice cream melts. Just a little trick for you."
He stirred until most of the ice cream was dissolved and the root beer had turned a milky brown color, like hot cocoa.
"Try it now."
He held the straw stil while I took another sip. The root beer was softened with creamy vanil a and the carbonation was almost al gone. The result might have been the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted.
"It's amazing," I said, and took another sip.
"Told you."
We shared the last of it and I set the empty, frothy glass on a coaster on my nightstand. My heart pounded as I turned around to him, feeling the heat of his eyes on my back.
"Thank you," he said. "I feel a lot better."
"You couldn't fool me." I eased up to him, and my heart sank when the worried expression returned to his face. "Wil , do you regret it al ? The fighting? Kil ing the demonic reaper?"
"I don't regret it, no."
"But it bothers you," I said. "That's why you wear the crucifix your mother gave you. And because you miss her."
He looked up at me and his brow softened. "I guess you can read people better than I thought."
I smiled warmly at him and smoothed my hand over his hair. "Only you. Hard as you try, you can never fool me."
"I suppose not."
My smile faded. "You know there are higher powers and Heaven and Hel out there, but you don't seem very religious."
"I think religion is based on faith," he said. "I don't need faith to know what I deal with every day. I know that there is a God and that Lucifer chal enges Him. I know that there are the Fal en and there are angels who fight them. I know that there are creatures who drag innocent human souls to Hel to prepare for the Apocalypse and that I was designed to fight those creatures. Faith has nothing to do with my existence, but yes. You're right. I don't like kil ing, but I have to do it because it's my duty. Protecting human souls is the duty of any angelic reaper. Protecting you is my duty. I'm a soldier in a war, and the only difference between our war and the ones between humans is that this fight has been going on since time began and it's not likely to be over any time soon."
"Why would your mother give you a crucifix if reapers aren't very religious?"
He did that lip thing again, and my stomach flipped. "My mother was very devout in her belief that what we're doing is the right thing. She fought hard against the demonic, and I think wearing a cross made her feel closer to the archangels she served and to God. We get very lonely sometimes, and we lose track of our goals after so many centuries of fighting. I think it kept her grounded."
"Does it keep you grounded too?"
"You keep me grounded," he said. "And this crucifix reminds me that there are bigger things happening out there than just you and me. That there is a world beyond protecting you, even though you're al I real y know. You asked me if I regretted any of it, and the answer, truthful y, is yes. The only thing I ever regret is failing you, letting you die."
I continued to stroke his hair and said nothing. To be honest, I didn't real y know what to say.
"And yes," he continued, "I do miss my mother."
"Do you think she's watching over you in Heaven?"
He tensed and didn't answer me right away. "Reapers don't have an afterlife. Heaven and Hel are for human souls. When a reaper dies, that's it. So, no. My mother is gone."
My heart kicked in my chest and sadness blanketed me like heavy, freezing cold snow as the blood drained from my face. I'd always felt a smal comfort knowing that when I died, my soul would be safe. Nothing frightened me more than the possibility of the Enshi destroying my soul so that after my death, I would disappear. And here, this entire time, for Wil 's entire life, he knew that if he were ever kil ed, he would end the same way I would if my soul were eaten. My Guardians before him had al died for me and ended their existences. Wil had known al along that his ultimate sacrifice for me would only bring him eternal nothingness, and despite knowing this, he stil risked his life for me every night, every battle. If he died protecting me, fighting for me, he'd give up everything. There'd be no Heaven for him to rest and find peace in. Al he would ever know was war and death and loss and sadness.
"Guess not. I know you needed to eat after the fight tonight."
"I real y don't want to eat right now."
I smiled. "Don't move." I went to the kitchen and explored my fridge. I was lucky to find a half-empty two-liter bottle of root beer in there, and a carton of vanil a ice cream in the freezer. I made a float, smiling fondly to myself as I stuck a spoon and straw into the glass and I took the sugary concoction upstairs.
Wil stil hadn't moved.
I stopped in front of him and held the float out. He looked up at me, his eyes flashing, and he grinned.
"El ie . . ."
"You aren't going to pass up a fabulous root beer float, are you?" I winked playful y.
He gave a gentle laugh and took the glass. I sat down on the bed beside him and watched him eat.
"Since I made it," I said, "I get a sip and a bite."
That beautiful smile widened. "Agreed."
He gave me the spoon, and I took a bite of ice cream and then sipped a gulp of creamy root beer to wash it down.
"Mmm, that had better be the best damn root beer float you've ever had."
"It is, trust me." He watched me for a moment before he took the straw back and stirred. "However, it's even better when the ice cream melts. Just a little trick for you."
He stirred until most of the ice cream was dissolved and the root beer had turned a milky brown color, like hot cocoa.
"Try it now."
He held the straw stil while I took another sip. The root beer was softened with creamy vanil a and the carbonation was almost al gone. The result might have been the most delicious thing I'd ever tasted.
"It's amazing," I said, and took another sip.
"Told you."
We shared the last of it and I set the empty, frothy glass on a coaster on my nightstand. My heart pounded as I turned around to him, feeling the heat of his eyes on my back.
"Thank you," he said. "I feel a lot better."
"You couldn't fool me." I eased up to him, and my heart sank when the worried expression returned to his face. "Wil , do you regret it al ? The fighting? Kil ing the demonic reaper?"
"I don't regret it, no."
"But it bothers you," I said. "That's why you wear the crucifix your mother gave you. And because you miss her."
He looked up at me and his brow softened. "I guess you can read people better than I thought."
I smiled warmly at him and smoothed my hand over his hair. "Only you. Hard as you try, you can never fool me."
"I suppose not."
My smile faded. "You know there are higher powers and Heaven and Hel out there, but you don't seem very religious."
"I think religion is based on faith," he said. "I don't need faith to know what I deal with every day. I know that there is a God and that Lucifer chal enges Him. I know that there are the Fal en and there are angels who fight them. I know that there are creatures who drag innocent human souls to Hel to prepare for the Apocalypse and that I was designed to fight those creatures. Faith has nothing to do with my existence, but yes. You're right. I don't like kil ing, but I have to do it because it's my duty. Protecting human souls is the duty of any angelic reaper. Protecting you is my duty. I'm a soldier in a war, and the only difference between our war and the ones between humans is that this fight has been going on since time began and it's not likely to be over any time soon."
"Why would your mother give you a crucifix if reapers aren't very religious?"
He did that lip thing again, and my stomach flipped. "My mother was very devout in her belief that what we're doing is the right thing. She fought hard against the demonic, and I think wearing a cross made her feel closer to the archangels she served and to God. We get very lonely sometimes, and we lose track of our goals after so many centuries of fighting. I think it kept her grounded."
"Does it keep you grounded too?"
"You keep me grounded," he said. "And this crucifix reminds me that there are bigger things happening out there than just you and me. That there is a world beyond protecting you, even though you're al I real y know. You asked me if I regretted any of it, and the answer, truthful y, is yes. The only thing I ever regret is failing you, letting you die."
I continued to stroke his hair and said nothing. To be honest, I didn't real y know what to say.
"And yes," he continued, "I do miss my mother."
"Do you think she's watching over you in Heaven?"
He tensed and didn't answer me right away. "Reapers don't have an afterlife. Heaven and Hel are for human souls. When a reaper dies, that's it. So, no. My mother is gone."
My heart kicked in my chest and sadness blanketed me like heavy, freezing cold snow as the blood drained from my face. I'd always felt a smal comfort knowing that when I died, my soul would be safe. Nothing frightened me more than the possibility of the Enshi destroying my soul so that after my death, I would disappear. And here, this entire time, for Wil 's entire life, he knew that if he were ever kil ed, he would end the same way I would if my soul were eaten. My Guardians before him had al died for me and ended their existences. Wil had known al along that his ultimate sacrifice for me would only bring him eternal nothingness, and despite knowing this, he stil risked his life for me every night, every battle. If he died protecting me, fighting for me, he'd give up everything. There'd be no Heaven for him to rest and find peace in. Al he would ever know was war and death and loss and sadness.
