Anathema (Sojourner Book 4)

Chapter One

I dreamed of them again, those angels with unnatural wings and eyes that haunt me even now, in this waking world, where visions of the night should be forgotten.  They chased me into a dark wood, their white robes and pale skin glowing ethereally in the night, yet all I could see were their bony fingers reaching for me, exploding with light.  Then the pain struck, and I sprawled atop the soft, damp ground, blanketed by moss and leaves.

I screamed as they advanced, unable to move except to writhe in pain from the light that enveloped my body, their voices booming inside my head: “You must stand judgment for your crimes against us.”

That’s when Griffin wakes me by shoving at my shoulder, his gaunt face pale in the moonlight.  When he realizes my eyes are open, he stops prodding and sits on the bed next to me.

“You scared the hell out of me with all that shouting,” he rants, raking his fingers through his hair.  “I thought someone was killing you.”

I’m about to tell him that so far as my dream is concerned he isn’t far off, but there’s no point in vocalizing that fear.  Whoever those angels are, at least for the moment they’re gone from my head.  Griffin has enough trouble dealing with his own Jayzee-sized demons.  Even though we think she’s dead, it’s like she’s still keeping some kind of  hold on him so he really doesn’t need to add my problems to the mix.

“Sorry I woke you,” I murmur, brushing the hair from my face.  “Please tell me that at least Jimmie is still asleep.”

He nods.  “Since he fell asleep on the couch, he’s farther from your noise than I am, and I haven’t been sleeping too soundly, remember?”

“Yeah.”  I keep blinking as though that will drive away the nightmares, but those angels refuse to leave.

“What did you dream about?”

I shrug.  “Don’t remember.” 

“Lizzie,” Griffin warns.

“Seriously, I don’t,” I argue, brushing my hands up and down my arms, trying to drive away the goose bumps rising on my skin.

“You were ready to fly out of that bed,” he counters, shaking his head.  “You remember, and you really don’t spook easily.  Hell, when Maguire was pointing that gun at you, you were completely calm, or seemed to be.”

“I was petrified!” I say, hoping to distract him from the subject.  “Maybe you couldn’t tell, but I was freaking out, Griffin.”

“Just like today, when I woke you up.”

“It’s nothing,” I snap, standing and walking to the open window, where a slight breeze stirs the night around us.  The parted curtains billow inward, and a gust toys with the hair hanging over my shoulders, lifting it and tossing it back.

“Why won’t you tell me?” he asks, rising.

“It’s nothing.”  That’s all I know to say without complicating everything beyond measure.

For a moment, Griffin just stands there, waiting.  When silence answers him, he shakes his head.

“Fine.  Have it your way.”  He walks away.

* * *

By morning, I’ve convinced myself the dream is just that; it’s easier that way.  The last thing I want to believe is that those kinds of angels do exist.  I have enough problems with angels who look like humans.  The others are just plain scary.

After I get out of bed, I peek into Griffin’s room.  He’s still in bed, but at least this time he’s not thrashing around and calling Jayzee’s name, which, in its own way is just as scary as the angels haunting me.  Part of me wants to ask Lev about them but I know better.  Things have been going too well between us to open that can of worms.  And if I ask, he won’t let it go until the truth comes out, and I’m not sure where it will go from there.  I don’t really want to find out.  Right now, figuring out what’s happening with Jayzee is more of a priority.  Until that is resolved, I don’t think there’s any way Griffin is going to heal.