Page 88 of Crimson Promises
“Aurora, I wasn’t going to leave things like that.” He padded across the grass as if approaching a rabid and wild animal.
“There’s nothing more to discuss. I don’t trust anything you say. Let’s leave it there.”
He drove his hands into the back pocket of his jeans. “I owe you answers. Will you at least hear me out? If you want nothing to do with me after that, I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”
So many questions, accusations, and insults rose to the tip of my tongue, but my curiosity won.
“Fine, but you can sit there and explain.” I pointed to the spot he was standing in, now four feet from me—the length of the boardroom table in Jean’s office. I kept my arms wrapped around my middle. I’d treat this like a business meeting. I would get the answers I required, and our arrangement would be terminated at the conclusion of this encounter. “If I suspect any bullshit, I am going to get up and walk away, and I never want to see you again. Do I make myself clear?”
Ben nodded his head solemnly. He took off his jacket, placed it on the ground, and used it as a blanket to sit on. “I’m sor?—“
“No apologies. Only facts, whatever your name is.”
“First off, my name is Bennett. When you were younger, it was safer for you not to know anything about my true identity. You weren’t even supposed to see me.”
“That makes no sense. I can see you now. You go to class. I hate to break it to you, angel, but everyone can see you.”
“Yes, but that is because I will it.”
I gave him a dazed look of bewilderment. “Huh? Can you explain that in English?”
Ben cracked the knuckles of each hand.
The sound brought my shoulders to my ears. Ihatedthat sound with a passion I reserved for few things.
“When an angel uses a simple concealment enchantment, they become invisible to humans. For the most part. Very few of those I have encountered in my lifetime have what we call ‘The Sight.’ It is the name we associate with mortals who notice the presence of an angel that appears invisible to others.”
“And I have this sight thing you’re talking about?” My mouth hung open, absolutely flabbergasted.
“Yeah,” Ben said. “I had suspected you did when your eyes would track me as a baby, but I knew for sure when you were around four. We were in your playroom, where you had set a place for all your stuffed animals for a tea party. You looked me dead in the eyes and asked if I would join. It had caught me so off-guard, so I nodded yes. Stephen had walked into the room and looked straight through me, telling you dinner would be ready in a few minutes.”
A trace of a smile pulled up on my lip.
“I remember that so clearly. You sat hunched over at that plastic purple table, crossing your body to fit into that tiny seat.”
“My butt was sore for days after that.”
The tree bark dug into my back, reminding me I shouldn’t be bantering with him. The only thing I needed from him was answers.
“If I have The Sight, how come I stopped seeing you around? There were periods I was convinced you left, but then I could have sworn I sensed your presence around me a few times.”
“It was one thing when you were a child, Aurora. Anytime you brought my existence up, people chalked it up to an overactive imagination or an invisible friend. If you had started announcing my presence to those around you when you were older, people would have thought you were delusional. Most likely, you would be committed to some institution. I couldn’t let that happen to you. I watched from the shadows instead. Look at what happened when you tried to tell your dad and nurse about what you saw at the hospital.” He held his chin higher as if that example provided his point.
“You were at the hospital?” I balked.
He uncrossed his arms, the only response I got from him.
“Why were you around ‘watching’ me in the first place?”
“Whatissignificant is that I was and have been tasked with maintaining your safety for a number of years. The why thatisparamount is—whyhave I been responsible for watching over you for so many years? I have been trying to piece this together myself. I doubt that you are an ordinary mortal. The rare healing gift you possess is—wait.” He held his index finger to his mouth to indicate for me to remain silent.
Ben snapped his fingers, and a golden sphere enveloped us.
“There, now we can speak openly again,” he stated.
I raised my eyebrows in question.
“I cast a secrecy sphere with angelic magic. It keeps our conversation or anything that happens within the confines of the bubble silent from anyone on the outside. You never know who or what is listening, and it’s imperative the things we are about to discuss remain between the two of us for now.”
