Grim Echoes

Chapter 25 - Maeve

Maeve sat as her eyes darted around. The last thing she remembered was the stunning, shimmering angel that attacked Ander and spoke to her. It'd asked her what she was doing there. She'd never met or seen an angel, so how could it have recognized her? Guardian angels were real? But that angel didn't seem interested in protecting anyone. It wanted to hurt Ander and Will. Her shoulder still hurt and was stiff. With wide eyes, she searched for Ander and Will.

She spotted Will at a round dining table. His hand hovered by the gun strapped to his side. The familiar sight brought a slow smile to her lips, glad he was ok. His body sank back in the chair and he picked up his beer on the table. Maeve tilted her head up. The ceiling height was at least ten feet, maybe more. No finished ceiling, just pipes that ran in different directions. Everything was very industrial. Two walls made up of dilapidated brick and the other two seemed to be concrete block. Several fluorescent lights hung down, but none were on. She scanned the unfamiliar surroundings and then returned her gaze to Will.

He'd finished the beer and placed the bottle on the table. His impassive expression plastered to his face. Maeve changed to a sitting position on the couch and put her hands together in her lap, and ignored the urge to touch her shoulder. With a deep breath, she considered her options. Once again, she had no idea where she was, what time it was, or what'd happened. Ander had been angry with her, and Will's current expression was ominous. She bit her lip and peered at Ander. He sat near the table, his back to her with squared shoulders.

Movement in the corner drew Maeve's attention. The woman, Mason, from the motel room yesterday with the grim expression, scrutinized her. She felt exposed and vulnerable under the older woman's gaze. It was humorous because Mason was small in stature. Maeve couldn't tell her exact height but it looked to be just above five feet, with a tiny frame and warm tawny brown skin. Her eyes flicked to the book the woman was reading; it was a cozy mystery of all things. Maeve recognized the title because her mother loved cozy mysteries. She was supposed to be with other soldiers and yet Will and Ander were there.

"I need coffee." Mason stood and left the room.

"You feel ok?" Will's deep voice reverberated in the room's silence.

At the sound of his voice, relief flooded Maeve. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm glad everyone is ok." she looked at Ander.

Ander adjusted in his seat and picked up something metal off of the table. It reflected the light from the lamps in the room. Not looking at her or his hands, he began to twirl it around absentmindedly. Her eyebrows furred together when she realized he was covered in blood. It looked dry, but there was a lot. She stood and walked to his chair.

"Ander are you ok? I mean, were you hurt?"

In the few seconds it took her to move closer, he'd changed from playing with the knife to holding it aggressively towards her. She watched the recognition of her words sink in and he lowered the knife color in his cheeks.

"Yes, I am fine," his voice confused.

"But all of that blood..." her voice trailed off. Something was wrong. He didn't feel right. She recalled his expression when he grabbed her arm in the parking lot, he'd been offended by her ability, by her.

"Oh," Ander lowered his eyes to his clothes.

Will snickered. Maeve didn't see the humor.

"That is not my blood," he whispered. His right hand rubbed the leg of his pants.

"Your sure you 're ok? I mean when the angel - I was worried it was going to hurt you, that's why I," she stopped unsure of what she'd done.

He gazed at her with glossy green eyes. A strange pull, similar to the one in the library, but it had nothing to do with her ability. An urge to brush his bangs back, touch his face, filled her mind.