Oh, readers. I wish that I had had Brid’s help tonight, or Inca’s, or even Lubos’s. Any one of my sisters or brothers might have helped me to avert the disaster.
I saw it coming—I knew that he was wrong for her! And yet I only realized the danger when it was too late. Now two of my charges are suffering from wounds that I could have prevented.
It was a fiery night with Shannon and Thomas. They were arguing when I came upon them, and I very nearly left again, seeing the anger and tension coiling between them. Usually their arguments resolve into passion—part of their attraction to one another comes from the fire of anger and the struggle between two proud people. But something made me linger, something different that felt darker than usual.
I soon gathered that Thomas had arrived in a sour mood, and Shannon had picked up on the fact that he wanted to use her to make himself feel better. She did not feel charitably inclined toward this notion.
“—all you ever want from me is sex!” she was screaming, bright red in the face.
“And I thought that was all that you wanted!” he retorted. On the surface he was calm, but his words were sharp as knives, and anger boiled in his chest. “You said it yourself, right? No strings, huh?”
“And just who the hell would want to be tied to you in any way?” she demanded.
He clenched a hand around the base of a lamp, keeping his back turned to her. “You only wish you had it so good, baby,” he said.
“Like hell,” she sneered. “I have wasted every single second I’ve spent with you. Now you better get out right now, and don’t you dare come back because I don’t ever want to see your fucking face again. You are an egotistical prick is what you are, and I can’t even call you a manwhore, because a whore would be good in the sack!”
Thomas abruptly lifted the lamp from the table and, in one smooth arc of his arm, hurled it against the wall. The bulb shattered, and the shade went flying across the room.
I was alarmed, as was Shannon, though she would rather have died than show it. “You’re paying to have that replaced,” she said, folding her arms.
Thomas turned, and now the anger was on the surface, like scalding water overflowing. “Oh, am I?” he asked, and strode toward her.
I did not have any idea what he was doing. Shannon did, but she didn’t believe he would actually do it. Though her heart increased speed, she stood her ground, snapping, “Don’t you dare lay a hand on me—”
But he did. In the same smooth motion he had used to throw the lamp, he swung his arm around and struck her across the face, putting the entire weight of his shoulder behind the blow. Shannon fell sideways, struck the back of the couch, and crumpled behind it, gasping with shock and pain. I felt similarly breathless—how could he have done such a thing?
Thomas reached down and took Shannon by the arms, hauling her back to her feet. “Bitch,” he said, shaking her. “No one talks to me like that—”
That was as far as I let him get.
Danit tells me that both he and Shannon believe that she pushed him away in that moment, but she was still too stunned to move. It was I who pushed him back, the whole of my anger becoming a physical force. For suddenly I was angry, more angry than I was when Pamela found out about Daniel’s wife, or when I read the words that bullies used to hurt Mary. I was filled with wrath, and I turned it against a human.
“This woman,” I said, and to my own ears my voice rang with shock and horror and rage, “this woman with whom you have shared the most intimate bond, this woman who has given you her trust and her affection—you would strike her? How do you dare to cause her harm? How do you dare—”
“Asa’el.”
The voice was sharp and cut through even the fog of my wrath. I turned away from Thomas, who had fallen back a step, momentarily cowed by the rage his mind could not understand, and found Eburnean behind me, the whiteness of their wings outspread and glowing.
“Restrain yourself,” they said, eyes fierce on my face. “Your rage is not needed.”
I wanted to argue, but they were correct—Shannon was already gathering herself, magnificent in her own rage. “Out,” she said to Thomas.
He clenched his jaw, trying to regain control of the situation.
Shannon, with one hand pressed to her swelling face, bent and picked up the broken lamp with the other hand. Holding it like a sword, she advanced on Thomas. “Out!” she screamed.
He fled, and Shannon slammed the door behind him. She locked it, threw the lamp back to the floor, and went to get some ice for her face. With it applied, she sat down at the table and called Thomas, and told his voicemail—for of course he was too cowardly to answer—precisely what she would do to him if he ever set foot in her vicinity again. She used a voice as cold as the ice against her cheek and went into lurid detail.
Listening, Eburnean raised one brow. “This one does not need much protection.”
“She deserved more than I gave her.” Now that the anger was gone, the guilt was setting in. “I should have prevented this.”
“She will be all right, Asa’el,” Eburnean said. “She is strong.”
I am not so sure. Certainly Shannon seemed to be faring just fine, but what will happen when her anger fades? Sometimes anger is the only strength we have. It certainly feels like the only strength I have.
When I was certain there was nothing more I could do, I turned to Eburnean. “Have you come to bring me to my seniors, then?” I asked. “Cupids are not meant to use such force against humans.”
Eburnean studied me. “Are they not?” they asked. “I merely came because it seemed that you needed assistance. But if that is so, we should go back and talk to your seniors. They will be waiting.”
They were waiting, but they were not angry. I was grateful; I had already been angry enough for all of us, and I could still feel the anger twisting with guilt inside me whenever I thought of the bruise growing on Shannon’s face. I feel it even now.
Eburnean, to my surprise, defended me, though perhaps that is simply their nature as a Guardian. They said that I meant only to protect my charge, which, they said, is not a bad thing. “If Asa’el had not acted as he did, she may have been harmed worse than she was. His intervention was minimal, and it gave Shannon the time she needed to defend herself. And I have seen that neither of the human witnesses believe it was anything out of the ordinary.”
Zezette sighed. “Still, it was a rash action. Perhaps we should restrict Asa’el to heaven for some time, and allow his charges to be tended by others.”
“No!” I protested. “Zezette, please, I have made such a terrible mess of things. Please allow me to go back and mend some of it if I can, please.”
Danit turned to Zezette. “I believe to punish Asa’el would be counterproductive in this case,” she said. “He has suffered two setbacks in the past few days, and he feels the wrongness of his actions more painfully than we could inflict upon him. If he believes that we no longer have faith in him, it could be even more harmful to him.”
Zezette considered Danit, and I believe they exchanged words that were not for my hearing. Whatever was said, it brought them to agreement. “Very well,” Zezette sad. “Asa’el, you will not be punished for your actions tonight, but you have been warned. You are a Cupid.” As she said this, she looked at Eburnean, who lifted their chin in response. “Such forceful manifestations are not our way. Please remember that in future.”
I bowed my head and said that I would, relieved beyond words that I would not be restrained from my charges. But now I wonder if it might not have been best for them to have done so. Perhaps my charges would be better off with another angel to guide them. I have failed Grace, and I have failed Shannon—who will be next?