Page 64 of The Deer and the Dragon
The comfort of Fauna’s calm irreverence evaporated. All that remained in its wake was the sickening injection of cortisol as my heart thundered. The smell of bleach was overpowering. The home closed in on me as I demanded, “Canyouget out? Can you go?”
“Yes,” Silas answered for her. “She can go back to the Nordes. She can visit the Sumerians, the Greeks, or seek refuge with the Hindus. She can go straight to Hell if she wants. She can step into any other realm. But her guardianship over you is done.”
She’d done it. My mother had successfully pulled the thread. I cracked as it released the pieces of me that I’d spent so many years pulling together and became a child once more. My heart bled against years of buried terror as, small and helpless, I shattered into a powder of nothingness before her.
“I have not given up on your soul, even if you have,” Lisbeth said. “I will force the demons from your life, whatever it takes. Now the angel—”
I swallowed against the cotton in my throat. “Mom, you don’t know this guy like I do.”
“I’m a chosen, faithful servant. I’ve been speaking with angels of the Lord my entire life. He arrived as an answer to prayer. Neither the Lord nor I have given up on your soul,Marlow, even if you have.”
“I’m still willing to make the bond, Marlow,” he said quietly. He didn’t look angry or hostile or violent. Fractals of sadness reflected in his golden eyes as he looked between my mother and me. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, but there was no other way to get to you. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ve already proven my worth to you. I’ve saved you three times already, and I’ll continue to do so. Just”—he extended his hand exactly as he had that night in my apartment—“make the bond.”
“Commit your soul to the Lord,” my mother commanded as she looked between the angel and me. “God is always reaching out his hand to you! Can’t you see that? How can you spit on this chance at salvation?”
“So that’s it?” I asked. My voice sounded so far away. “I choose a realm right now? My decision is now?”
The silent, watery-eyed apology on Fauna’s face broke my heart.
“Marlow.” He repeated my name, his quiet plea the voice of reason juxtaposed against her rising hysteria.
Then, something clicked. The world stopped spinning. The suffocating, sterile smell of cleaning products vanished. The only sound was that of my own heartbeat. I looked at Fauna with complete certainty as I said, “Step into another realm.”
Silas’s golden eyes flashed at my command. The tendons on his forearm pulsed as he flexed his fist.
“I won’t leave you.” She planted her feet, voice swelling with her resolve. “I can’t throw you to the dogs—”
The beats between seconds stretched like taffy as time slowed. My pretty mother with her ugly heart surrounded by the opulence of her blessings and her jackass of an angelic counterpart blurred as I focused on Fauna alone. The roar in my ears sounded like the ocean’s relentless pounding as blood thundered through me.
“Do it, Fauna!”
“I’m not going to abandon you,” she repeated through gritted teeth.
I plunged my hand into my pocket, fingers digging through the bits of handkerchief until they touched the cool, silver treasure. Her eyes shot to my pocket, then up to me, and I knew she understood. I said all I could with the intensity of my eyes as I shouted, “Then don’t leave me!”
Fauna’s hand was on my bare skin in an instant. I heard a deep, masculine cry as the angel dove for me, saw a glint of glitter, and watched my mother’s eyes flare all at once.
Silas’s gold winked out as the world went utterly black.
Chapter Twenty-One
The impact took my breath away as I landed on my hands and knees, crying out as I struck the cobblestones. Cold rain hit my face, my hands, my neck. Nausea rolled through me as pain-induced stars erupted in my vision. I rolled onto my side, wincing at what I knew would be enormous, purple bruises on my kneecaps. I lifted my eyes through the dark and shadows that pressed in around us to barely make out Fauna picking herself up and extending her hand.
She shouted over the rain. “Come on. Let’s get out of the cold.”
Gone was the smell of bleach, the clean daylight, the white walls, the beige furniture. My mother and her dickhead of an angel were nowhere to be found. I looked around at the enormous buildings that stretched on either side down the long, ancient street. Through chattering teeth, I asked, “Are we in London?”
“Ha!” She laughed, the sound a bright, genuine joy. “No, but you bet your ass I’m going to tell every English person I ever met that you said that. Let’s get moving.”
I grimaced as I took her hand and got to my feet. I took shaky steps, heels wobbling as one nearly slipped into the space between cobblestones. Iron lanterns lined the sidewalks; dim candles flicked within them as if we’d stepped into thepast. Against the overcast sky, the silhouettes of Gothic cathedrals and old-world stone buildings intermingled with the glass, marble, and steel of modernity. I grabbed her hand and allowed her to pull me down the street.
“Where are we?” I asked, using my free hand to wipe the rain from my face.
“Welcome to Hell,” she said, grinning like a tour guide.
I stopped so fast I nearly yanked her shoulder from her socket. The floodgates opened as decades of Christian fear filled me. I whipped my head from side to side, searching for Cheshire-cat parasites, gnashing teeth, talons, bats, and venom. Nausea returned as my heart skipped uncomfortably. If it weren’t for the cold, rhythmic rain dripping down my face, I wasn’t sure I would have stayed conscious.
I was going to be sick.
