The Bringer

Page 31

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain all. But please dress first,” she says, gesturing to me.
I glance down at my half-clad body and tighten the towel around my waist. I grab the t-shirt that’s hanging on the radiator beside me. “Tell me,” I say, dragging the t-shirt on over my head.
“She’s in a hospital in Sydney –”
“Australia?” I say incredulously.
She nods curtly, her red hair falling across her face. She pushes it back. “She’s fine physically. She’s human now, but she has no memory of who she used to be, of anything . . . of you.”
I rest up against the wall, my body suddenly weary, all my urgency halted. “How?”
She sits down on the edge of my bed. “From what I’m guessing she was made a mortal by Arlo and he took away her memories.”
“Arlo? Who the hell is he?”
“Arlo is an angel like me – like Lucyna used to be, and well . . . also like you once were.”
I laugh awkwardly. “What? I used to be an angel?”
She nods casually.
I feel nothing if not casual. Uncomfortable – yes. Casual – not so much.
I make a noise that was supposed to be another laugh but this time it comes out sounding strangled. Nothing’s registering at her words. I mean you would think if I used to be something like that it would spark some sort of recognition, wouldn’t it?
I push my damp hair off my forehead. “You must have got it wrong – I can’t have been an – an angel.”
She regards me silently for a moment. “No, I am correct,” she says, certainly. “You were Arran. You and I knew one another. You look different now, but you were definitely him.”
“How?” I ask.
“You left behind your immortality to become a mortal three hundred years ago at your own request, so you could be with a mortal woman.”
I’m starting to feel jittery. Circuits are firing off in my brain. And this conversation is making me feel distinctly uncomfortable. “Was Lucyna the women I left to be with?”
“No.” She shakes her head irritably. “Lucyna was an angel at that time too.”
My brow furrows. “So you’re saying I knew Lucyna all that time ago?”
“Yes.” She hesitates. “Well you and Lucyna were together, but you left her to be with the human. And not long after you left Heaven, she disappeared along with Arlo. I have not seen any of you since, well until six weeks ago when Lucyna’s essence registered with us on the day she changed form – from, surprisingly to me, a Bringer – to save your life.”
I listen intently as she continues.
“I was sent here to monitor her, well the both of you – I must say I wasn’t in the least bit surprised the moment I realised who you were, that she had saved you from that car wreck. Lucyna loved Arran immensely. And when she vanished again a few weeks ago without trace, I was concerned, so I have been searching for her ever since. There has been nothing, well not until yesterday when I fortunately became aware of a story being broadcast by the humans about a woman found in Australia recently with no memory of who she was – and low and behold it was Lucyna.”
After hearing that you'd think I’d be shocked, stunned in fact, but with all I’ve heard and seen recently, I’m way past the element of surprise.
“How did she end up in Australia?” I ask this calmly, and God knows how, because I feel anything but.
“I don’t know for sure but I believe Arlo may be somehow responsible.”
“And this Arlo – why would he do this to Lucyna?”
Her face falls. “I have my own theory . . . but I don’t know for sure.”
I narrow my gaze. “And your theory is?”
She looks out of the window. “Inconsequential.” Her tone is brisk. “The important thing is that I find him which I can’t do.” Her voice trails off and she is silent for a moment. She looks back to me. “It seems he doesn’t want to be found and that he didn’t want Lucyna to be found either as her essence is being masked. Her mind has been blanked of all memories. I can’t see anything, it’s as if there’s been a wall built up in there and it’s too dense for me to penetrate. The only way I’ll know anything is if she’ll allow me to try and release the memories locked in her mind. But she has to consent to this, and even then I still may not be able to break through because the magic Arlo has worked – if it is him, is strong.”
I stare out the window at the cool clear day, my mind frantically working away, trying to figure this all out.
I take a deep breath, looking back at her. “Okay,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest, “so let me get this straight in my mind. You’re telling me I was an angel called Arran, and me and Lucyna were together, but three hundred years ago I left her to be with another woman, and then she left Heaven with this Arlo, became a Bringer, found me – Arran . . .” shit this is confusing. “. . . disappeared again possibly thanks to Arlo, and has now turned up in Australia, human, with no memory of who she was.”
The corners of her lips turn up. “Basically, yes.”
I press my lips together. It all sounds so . . . hmm . . . confusing, mind-bending, a bit on the crazy-side . . . need I go on?
I suddenly have a thought. “Who was the woman?”
Isabel looks at me inquisitively.
“The woman, Arran – I mean, I –” I shake my head, “fuck, this is confusing! Sorry,” I add when I realise that I just cursed in front of an angel. Isabel looks at me blankly and says nothing, so I carry on. “Who was the woman I left Lucyna to be with?”
“I don’t know,” she says indifferently, crossing her ankles. “It wasn’t a matter I cared to look into. You made your decision, end of story.”
Okay. So that’s me told.
“Has it ever happened before, an angel becoming mortal?”
She purses her lips and nods formally. “It has happened, not many times. Arran was one of a few. We don’t really spend time around the living to attach ourselves emotionally, but sometimes curiosity can get the better of us.”
“You?”
She laughs, a genuine laugh. “No. I hadn’t been to earth in a very long time, not until I was sent here to watch you and Lucyna. There’s nothing here of interest to me.”
I uncross my arm and rub my forehead with my fingertips. “Have you spoken to Lucyna?”
“No, I wanted to speak to you first. I didn’t want to turn up there and scare her with this announcement. She’s unlikely to be reasonable, as she’s already feeling very scared and alone.”
Isabel’s words make me feel sick to the pit of my stomach. I can’t bear the thought of her being there all alone and frightened, and also very fucking angry at who put her there.
“And I thought if you came with me –” Isabel continues, breaking me out of my pensive thoughts. “– it could be the key to help me unlock her mind. She might not be aware of it, but the emotional tie she has to you is undeniably strong, that’s been proved once already. She may listen to you because I can’t even attempt to return her memories without her consent.”
I meet her eyes. “There would never have been a moment I wouldn’t have come.”
“Good.” She rises gracefully to her feet. “Let’s go, then.”
I nod, but there something I need to ask her first. It won’t make a difference to anything, but I have to know. “Isabel.” I pause. She looks at me curiously. I clear my suddenly hoarse throat. “Did Lucyna know who I used to be when she saved my life?”
“No, she had no clue of who you were, who she used to be, or of your history together.” She regards me warmly for a moment. “At that point she loved you.”
“Because I used to be him?” I think out loud.
She flashes me a tight smile. “Maybe . . . partly.”
Now I know I’m not so sure how I feel about it but I push it aside as there are far more important things to think about, mainly how quickly I can get to Lucyna. The rest I can sort out later.
I push off the wall. “Right, I’ll just pack some clothes and get my passport –”
She laughs condescendingly, halting my words. “James, we’re not travelling by human transport. I will take us.”
Okay, so now I feel stupid for even speaking.
“But I’m going to need you a bit more mobile than that,” she adds, pointing a finger at my leg.
Almost immediately I feel a warm tingling sensation running through my broken leg and hear a crack. I watch in astonishment as the pot crumbles to the floor. I look down at my bare leg in shock. The pain is gone. I bend it slowly. It feels fine, well better than fine.
“It’s fixed,” she says off-hand, like she’s just glued a cup back together, or something trivial like that. “And put some trousers on. I don’t think turning up to see Lucyna in a towel will help matters.”
I grab my jeans off the chair by the window and pull them up under the towel, instantly realising the ludicrousness of the situation I’m in. I’m half-naked dressing in front of an angel. Hmm? I twist my lips, forcing the smile from my face, as I button up my jeans. It must be hysteria or something which, given the situation, I think is a perfectly reasonable thing to feel.
I push my feet into my trainers. “Okay, let’s go,” I say fervently.
Isabel comes over and holds her hands out. I take hold of them. “Close your eyes,” she instructs, “and don’t open them until I tell you to.”
“Okay,” I say, a touch apprehensively. Well, truth be told, I’m absolutely shitting myself but if it gets me to Lucyna, then I’m prepared to do just about anything. I close my eyes and open them straightaway. Isabel sighs, impatiently.
I look straight into her green eyes. “Lucyna’s not going to know who I am, is she?” I say, my voice sounding tinny as I suddenly realise the calamity of the situation.
She looks back at me regretfully. “No.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to get her memories back?” I ask, hopefully.
She smiles a tight smile. “I can’t promise anything.”
My heart sinks. I compress the pain down and close my eyes.
“Ready?” Isabel asks softly.
“Ready.” I instantly feel a shuddering sensation run through my hands, up my arms, spreading throughout the whole of my body.
Within a matter of seconds I hear Isabel’s whispering voice say, “You can open your eyes, James. We’re here.” She releases my hands.
Nervously I peel my eyes open and sway slightly on my feet, feeling unsteady. I press my feet into the floor whilst quickly casting my eyes over the moonlit room.
Isabel silently points over my shoulder and I turn to see Lucyna. She’s asleep in bed. My heart nearly explodes with relief. Six weeks I’ve waited for this moment. Six fucking weeks. And now I daren’t move.
I force my feet forward and, very nervously and very quietly, I tread over to the bed.