Page 107 of Crimson Promises
“Everything, huh?”
“Yeah, everything.” He leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on my forehead. I watched him turn the long-forgotten keys in the lock and slip silently inside.
Angel, human, work, school, Riley, Bennett. I was trapped in a field of landmines, afraid to take the next step because I didn’t want it all to blow up in my face. Eventually, one would. I just didn’t know which one that would be.
* * *
I kept my word and went straight to my condo, but headed inside through the parking garage—the last thing I needed was to get caught in a conversation with Victor. I looked a little worse for wear, and he would have questions. Questions I wasn’t prepared or ready to answer.
As I stepped back into familiar surroundings, I couldn't help but feel like everything had changed. The walls of my home shifted, the colors appearing more muted and duller than I remembered. Even the air felt different, thicker as if it was pressing down on me. I'd been thrust into a new reality—one that was unfamiliar and scary. One with angels, demons, powers, magical abilities, hierarchies, and wars.
Before, it was easy to ignore the healing gifts, but with all of these revelations, it was not something I could push to the back of my mind anymore. I had to face it, and the scary truth was I wasn’t sure that I was brave enough to. I was no Lara Croft or Zelda. I was the nerdy sidekick, not the leading lady. Living my life out of the center of attention had done me well. There was no one to disappoint that way. When you’re depending on yourself, it’s safe.
Bennett saw me differently. He saw a woman who wanted to follow her desires, but embracing a new world differed from trying to date a boy. Leagues different.
Looking down at my hands, I realized dried purple blood was caked underneath my fingernails. I sniffed my underarms. Yuck. I stank. To think I almost stayed with Ben. My ears felt hot. God, that would have been so embarrassing. I walked into the bathroom and stripped off everything I was wearing. Garbage. There was no chance I was ever wearing that outfit again.
Stepping into the shower, I turned on the hot water and let out a deep sigh, feeling the tension in my body start to melt away. The steam quickly filled the small bathroom, enveloping me in a warm embrace.
The hot water cascaded over me, and I closed my eyes, letting the sensation of the water on my skin bring me back to the present moment. I tried to clear my mind, focusing only on the feeling of the water and the sound of it hitting the tiled walls.
But it was no use—my mind kept returning to the demon. I started to feel overwhelmed. A knot formed in my stomach. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, but my thoughts kept racing.
The heat of the water intensified, and I felt a sense of relief as the warmth spread through my body. I try to let go of the thoughts, allowing them to flow through me without judgment.
Continuing to stand there, lost in thought, the water started to cool. I switched off the tap and stepped out of the shower, feeling better.
* * *
I should have been resting. Instead, I was up to my ankles in clothes: running outfits, dresses, sweaters, jeans, pants, blouses, slouchy sets. After my shower, I tried lazing on the couch watching reality television. That was usually the solution to my typically overstimulated, super analytical brain, but I couldn’t get comfortable and after twenty minutes, I was done. Then I tried tackling schoolwork. I wasn’t ignorant to the fact that while the universe decided to throw me endless amounts of curveballs, I was still a student at ACU, and I would highly doubt that my professor would be accepting of the fact that I just discovered I’m half human, half angel as an excuse for why my paper was late.
For one of my English literature classes, I had to recreate the opening of Romeo and Juliet. Halfway through the first page, there was already a love triangle between a dark-haired prince (my own version of Romeo) and a blonde foe who was trying to win the fair maiden’s hand. When I read it back, I immediately deleted everything. How sad was it that my life began sounding like a Shakespearean tragedy? In my state, anything I wrote for school would make zero sense. There went that idea.
That landed me here, keeping my mind busy by organizing my closet. The worst I could do was mix up seasons, not flunk a term paper. Pulling everything out to lay on my bed sounded like a wise decision. By seeing what I had, I could quickly narrow down categories into fall, winter, spring, and summer. Plus, I knew I had a bunch of clothes that I didn’t wear anymore. Purging sounded like a sound way to lighten the soul.
At first, there were organized piles, but the deeper I got into my closet, the more my bedroom looked like a bomb of clothing exploded. I sank to my knees on the threshold between my closet and the bedroom. Could nothing go right today?
In the distance, I heard a faint ringing. Shit, where did I leave my phone? I jumped to my feet as I began rummaging through the piles of clothes, determined to answer the phone call before it ended. It wasn’t underneath the jeans or running outfits.
By the time I reached the phone, I had missed the call. It was from Jean. I wondered why she was calling. I wasn’t scheduled to be at work for a few more days, and I was ahead of schedule for cataloging the recent shipment. My hand hovered over the button to call her back. She didn’t leave a message or anything, though. Probably a butt dial.
As if Jean heard me, my phone started ringing again. I yelled, “Hold on a sec, Jean.”
I rolled across the bed, opened the drawer of my nightstand, and popped on my AirPods.
“Hello, Jean. Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you, Aurora,” Jean said. There was something about her accent that I found soothing.
“How are you doing?”
“I’m alright. These buggers from USD are driving me absolutely mad. All the work we’ve done cataloging the current collection needs to be redone. One of the books we have yet to work with is a crimson hard-covered book with gold leafing around the edges. Familiar with that one?”
Goosebumps erupted on my body. I knew the exact book Jean was referring to. I did my best to give myself a wide berth from that one. There was something different, almost otherworldly, about it. It called and drew me in like it knew things about me.
“Yeah, I remember the one you’re talking about,” I responded past the dryness in my throat.
“I knew you would! Exactly why I hired a bright, sharp mind such as yourself. Anyways, they want that book to be the center of the collection. Apparently, it has garnered specific interest from some swanky individuals from Seattle. Listen, I hate to ask this of you, considering I know you’ve already completed your weekly hours, and I know how swamped everyone is with assignments,” she paused.
