Guarding Grace

Chapter Thirty-Two

              Grace sighed as she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep, getting up from the rocker she decided to find something to eat. She knew that she had canned goods stashed around the apartment; she had hidden them before she had gone to Annie's, in case she ever had to come back. She started for the kitchen, as she passed by her grandmother's room she heard a soft sound. She grabbed the closest object she could- a poker- and crept to the door of her grandmother's room. Gently nudging the door open, she looked inside.
               She gasped and dropped the poker as she walked in the room, her grandmother's form lying in the bed. Looking the same as she did before she died. Grace sat on the bed close to her grandmother with tears in her eyes. Azael's eyes fluttered open, locking onto Grace's she smiled weakly. "You are so strong." She gently patted Grace's hand. Her smile faltering slightly, "Blindly trusting those around you can be a mistake, my darling. Trust your heart." She coughed and leaned forward, "But remember: even your heart can betray you."
               Azael sat back and frowned, "My brother means well, but he does not know you. Nor does he care for you. The same goes for the others. You do not even know yourself, how can they know you?" Grace began to cry, the pain at seeing her grandmother came bubbling to the surface. "Grandmamma, I don't know what to do. I don't know who to turn to. Why didn't you tell me any of this?" Azael's face changed, in front of her was no longer the kind grandmother she knew but instead laid the fierce determined warrior that Grace had seen in the tapestries.
               "You did not need to know about this war. You need to know now, but I cannot explain it to you." The glint in Azael's eyes hardened, "You will have to kill Him, and you have no choice." Grace looked at her grandmother with pleading eyes, "I do not want to kill anyone!"
               Azael grabbed Grace's hand and held on tightly, "What you want no longer matters girl. Understand that. I raised you because of my fool sons. I knew what you would become."  Grace tried to pull her hand away, but Azael's grip only tightened. "Even abominations have their uses. You will kill him, you will change the way of our worlds."
               Azael let go of Grace's hand and lay back once again. Fading from Grace's sight, "Grandmamma! Please, explain this to me! I don't want to be anything but a normal girl. I don't want this." Azael faded into nothing as Grace cried into the covers. Tears flooded down her cheeks, confusion and anger flowing through her like two raging rivers. Grace began to pound the bed in frustration, the anger building and building until it took over her like a dam had broken in her soul.
               A primal scream erupted from Grace's throat as she beat on the bed, anger at her grandmother for keeping so much from her, anger at Hunter for being indifferent and angry towards her, anger at Gabriel for his intentions to turn her into a pawn for his war, and anger at Sarael for not killing her when she had the chance. She screamed until her throat felt raw and she could do nothing but cough. Collapsing on the bed, she felt every ounce of strength leave her, she could do nothing. She closed her eyes, silently begging that Mabuz or another of his kind would come for her. 
               Falling asleep still praying for death, Grace began to dream.
               Fields of amber and emerald flashed below her, feeling the weightlessness of the air around her; Grace smiled thinking that she had died. She began to feel excitement as she thought of what awaited her. She did not care if it was becoming of the bodies within the piles she had seen in her uncle's realm. Anything that did not involve her having to kill anyone.
               She quietly touched down on a golden courtyard, watching the door in front of her. Knowing this was not her uncle's realm nor was it any realm she had previously seen. Patience not being one of her virtues, she began to walk to the door.
               Grace suddenly bolted awake, realizing she was still alive she huffed. "It was too much to ask." She climbed out of the bed and walked into the living area of the small apartment. She stopped as she realized that someone was sitting in her grandmother's rocker. She squared her shoulders, refusing to be afraid of anyone any longer. She walked around the front of the rocker, sighing as she saw Mabuz in the chair.
               He was looking down, his mouth set in a thin line, he was picking lint off the arm of the chair, "Begging for death is never a good idea. If any of my brethren had heard your prayer, they would have come and collected you." He raised his eyes to meet her, "Do you know what happens to those who beg for death when it is not their time?" Grace shook her head, not knowing if she wanted the answer. Mabuz stood from the chair and came within inches of her. She tried to back away but he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Playthings, that's what they become. My brethren do not care about the sanctity of souls. Our job is to take them to their afterlife...when it is their time." He tilted her head with his hand, "If it is not their time, they take their frustrations out on their souls." A feral smile spread across his face, "Do you want me to tell you exactly what they do?"
               Grace found her courage and her voice; she ripped her chin out of his grasp, "It can be no worse than being used as a pawn in a war you have no knowledge of." Grace turned from him and walked to the hallway that would take her to her old bedroom, "I may have wished for death, but I don't any longer. You heard my prayer, you came. You can leave now. There is no need for you." She stood in the hallway, expecting him to calmly walk away. Instead, Mabuz walked up to her, getting uncomfortably close again. He did not reach out to touch her though. "Watch your thoughts and prayers, Cambion. I am not a friend to you, nor is my brethren."
               He turned and walked away from her, disappearing as he did so.