Ashes of Eden 2: Uprising (18+)

By Seven Everson

Connor and Emma have removed the threat of Ethan. But now, nine Elder Angels know how to bring the End of Days.
And they intend to do it.
This is an 18+ version. It contains some sex scenes. An under 18 version exists.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Seven Everson
• Release date: Jul 14, 2020
• ISBN: 9780994624345

Seven Everson

Seven has been writing since she was 12.She has written all kinds of books, but right now she is concentrating on paranormal romance novels. She likes to write intelligent, interesting tales for readers who like to be challenged. She believes that through fiction, readers can gain an insight into the bigger world around them.Seven writes romance that has less lust and more longing. As a lover of big books, her novels are not designed to be read in three hours, but to be read across a weekend.Her favourite writers are Tolkien and Stephen King, both of whom tell long tales that treasure the strength of friendship and test the mettle of their characters.

Book preview

Published by Seven Everson 2020

Copyright © 2020 Seven Everson

All rights reserved.

Description:

Connor and Emma are finally free from Ethan and his scheming. The problem is, now there are nine Angels who know exactly how to bring Connor down.

And they intend to.

The scanning, uploading and/or distribution of this book via the internet other means without permission of the author is illegal and punishable by law. You may use extracts that do not exceed one page length without the author’s permission, but authorship of the extract must be credited to the author where the extract appears. Extracts over one page length must have author permission.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely co-incidental. Not to mention highly unlikely.

ISBN (ebook): 978-0-9946243-4-5

Smashwords Edition

This book is intended for adult readers aged 18+

It contains several sex scenes which,

although mostly lovely and romantic,

are graphic in nature.

If you are under 18 and have bought

this version of the book in error,

please purchase the under 18 version

and contact Seven Everson

[e-mail].

I will either arrange a refund or

provide you with a free copy of Ashes of Eden 3

when it is released.

1

Connor didn’t wait until the end of the last song.

Just before the music finished, someone took a photo of us dancing in the foggy laser light. Connor turned his back on the photographer. He took me by the hand and led me through the mass of closely moving couples towards the exit.

As we reached the gymnasium exit, he took out the tie that Mr. Knovokovich had loaned him and tossed it to the History teacher. Mr. K. caught it, grinning.

Then Connor Harman and I walked outside into the cool night of the school grounds.

I didn’t mind leaving. As much as I would have liked to stay with my friends and celebrate the final moments of my senior year prom, I knew Connor would never do it. It was enough that he had danced that last dance with me, that he had kissed me in front of everyone.

Finally.

Because having to keep my relationship with Connor secret for the last few weeks had been exhausting.

It had been difficult enough not being able to tell my best friend (although Sarah would understand, now that the secret was out), but trying to keep it from Ethan had been worse.

Not that Ethan was going to be a problem anymore.

Because Ethan had been sent in a screaming fiery ball back to God.

Connor’s grip was warm and firm. He led me down to the car park. There were groups of students milling about, some kissing, others covertly smoking. Others were swigging from silver flasks tucked away in jacket pockets. None of them had any idea that only ten minutes earlier, the world had almost Ended.

The limousine that Bart had driven was still sitting with its lights on in the car park, where Bart had left it when he rushed to help Ethan. Bart was never coming back to get it.

What car did you bring? I asked.

I’m taking Ethan’s car. It needs to disappear. Connor started towards the red Mustang.

Ethan’s car? The irony. I wondered if from up in Heaven, or where it was that Ethan was, he could see us now. Was that how it worked? Would everything Connor and I did from now on be on show? God, I hoped not.

Behind us, the music finished. The gymnasium erupted into cheers and hoots.

What about the limo? I asked. We can’t just leave it here.

Connor shrugged. Not my problem.

But we should get it back to the owner.

We can’t help everyone.

If it stays here, people will ask questions, I said. About Bart and Ethan. And Frank.

I’ll fix it.

Emma! Ingrid flew down the pathway. She paused breathlessly behind us, keeping a wary distance from Connor. Her green sequins sparkled in the overhead lights.

Where are Bart and Frank? She frowned at the empty limousine.

Ingrid hadn’t seen the whole confrontation. She didn’t know.

I twitched uncomfortably. They’ve gone, I said quietly. Back to God.

Ingrid looked at Connor in horror.

He stared her down. His expression said: you have a problem with that?

If Ingrid had a problem with it, she wasn’t going to tell him so. She looked at me. But do you have to rush away? You’re safe now, can’t you just stay? She glanced at Connor. Everyone’s going crazy inside.

"Hey, Emma! Where the hell do you think you’re going?"

I turned to see Sarah striding down the path, dragging Brandon Kilbey after her. Behind them, Angus was indignantly in pursuit.

Connor looked at me. I don’t do this.

He turned to Ingrid. Get the limo back to its owner. I’ll make everyone here forget we took Ethan’s car.

He led me towards the Mustang. Behind me, Sarah caught up to Ingrid. Ingrid said something that stopped Sarah from going after us.

The Mustang’s top was down. The car was probably locked, but Connor opened the door for me anyway. Then he leapt over the door into the driver’s side. The car started when he gripped the steering wheel. He reversed up and roared out of the car park.

I didn’t turn around to wave goodbye – none of my friends would remember me leaving. I leaned back in the seat and let the cool night air flow over me.

God . . . prom had been nuts. How had it become so insane?

Twelve weeks earlier, the plan for the prom had been that I would go with my group of friends to share a few dances and have a laugh. The last hurrah of the Nobodies of Stamford High, before we dispersed to the world and went on to meet the challenges of College.

Then Ethan had tried to step up from friend to boyfriend and made us a prom couple against my will. Turns out his plans for me went way, way beyond the prom.

And then into my life came Connor Harman. Aloof, dispassionate, rude Connor Harman. I hated him at first sight.

Ethan despised him. Because Ethan knew.

I looked across at Connor now, driving Ethan’s car through the night. He was the same guy still, black leather jacket, black jeans, fingerless gloves. His hair streamed back into the night, exposing his cheekbones and almond eyes.

He was exactly the same guy, but nothing about him was the same now, not for me. I knew who he was, what he was. I knew what he had to do and why. It broke my heart, every moment of every day, but I would endure it to be with him.

And he would endure his pain in order to be with me.

Connor looked over at me. You okay?

I nodded.

I can’t be their friend, Emma.

I’ll deal with them, I said. I’ll make it clear that you’re still . . . you. I’ll keep them away.

It wouldn’t be hard, I knew. There were only three days of school left anyway. Nobody expected Connor to suddenly be up for back-slapping and lunch sharing just because he kissed me at the prom.

Do you think . . . I looked to him. Do you think Ethan might ever come back?

Connor took a moment before answering. Maybe. I hope not.

Can he see us, from where he is?

No. It doesn’t work like that.

Two minutes later we pulled into my driveway. My parents had left the outside light on for me. They would be in bed, I knew: Ethan had Charmed them into not waiting up for my return.

Because Ethan hadn’t planned for me to return that night.

I shivered, as Connor came around the car and opened my door.

He eyed me.

I’m okay. I said. "I was just thinking about how this night might have gone."

He didn’t say anything. We both knew that we, and the world, had escaped disaster by the thinnest of margins.

Worse, I knew it was all my fault. My fault because I had accidentally let slip to Ethan how close Connor was to giving up, how easy it would be to beat him.

My fault too, because I had wanted Ethan to Turn me Immortal at the prom, pretending it was for him, when all along I was doing it to be with Connor.

I had died and Connor had nearly Ended the World, because of me.

Connor thought that it was his fault that he couldn’t save me from dying, that, if not for Ingrid’s help, I would have stayed dead.

But I knew better. I had brought this upon all of us.

And yet, as guilty as I now felt, if I could have changed anything, it would be that Ethan could have Turned me before Connor arrived.

Because now I would be Immortal, and it would be easier to convince Connor to let me bear his pain.

Connor led me up the stairs to the landing and we stood under the light. I slid my arms under his jacket. His body was warm. He felt good.

I’m sorry, I started, I wanted to -

He kissed me.

I kissed him back, melting into him, drinking in the realness of him, the warmth of his body, the strength in his arms. He was real and I was real and we were both alive.

When we finally parted, Connor looked at me from under his hair.

What’s done is done. We move forward. Come to my place tomorrow; there are things that need to be seen to.

I frowned. What things?

He rolled his eyes. Tedious, annoying things. Three Angels don’t get wiped off the face of the earth without questions being asked. Come at three. Stay for dinner.

I squeezed him and he squeezed me back. We kissed again, for a long time. Finally I had to let him go.

I didn’t want to let him go. I wanted to take him upstairs to my room and lay with him on my bed and do what my body was demanding that I do with him.

But both of us were too responsible to ever let that happen. Not because my parents were hoping that I was still their sweet seventeen-year-old and I didn’t want to let them down; the lure of Connor Harman was far too strong for that.

We didn’t go up to my room, and we couldn’t, because to give in to one another could bring the End of Days.

So I kissed him on the cheek and fumbled in my purse for the house key.

Here. Connor touched the door and the lock clicked open. I smiled and rested a hand on his chest.

Tomorrow. I made myself say, instead of come up to my room.

Connor kissed the back of my hand. He walked down to Ethan’s car.

I watched him go. Only when the taillights turned off Glenbrook Road and vanished into the night did I go inside and let the door close behind me.

I thought sleep would come easy. After that whole week, after the intensity of the night, after everything that was knowing Connor, I thought I’d just collapse.

But instead I lay staring at the ceiling.

Because Connor had let me die.

I know I asked him to, begged him to. At the time it was all I wanted.

But maybe in that moment I’d also thought that, somehow, since Angels were real and God was real and it seemed there might be some kind of plan for us all, that there would be a fairy-tale ending where at the last moment, Connor had let me go, then drawn deep, found a well of strength and love he didn’t know he had and used it to save me.

I know it was dumb, even naive to think that, but I couldn’t help feeling a little betrayed that it hadn’t happened.

I guess it had kind of happened; Connor had killed Bart, despite his pain. That had given him the strength to kill the others.

But still . . . I’d died. Actually gone to God.

And Connor had let me.

Because I begged him to, remember that.

I knew it, but it was like surviving a car crash by some fluke . . . it was hard to stop reliving it over and over.

I couldn’t help hearing his words:

one day the true horror will hit you and you will go.

Was this part of the horror too? Beyond knowing who he was, what he did, was the knowledge that in the end he would let me go if he had to; that saving the world was actually more important than saving me?

Which it has to be. I knew that, of course I knew that. There was no point in my living if it meant the end of the world – I would be dead anyway. And seven billion people mattered a lot more than one girl.

I guess it was just my foolish teenage notion of what love actually was. Now that I’d found love, I felt the whole world was only about us and that nothing else mattered. I thought that our lives would forever be one of those romantic movies where everything works out for the best.

Mom once told me that when a girl falls in love, all common sense flies out the window. At the time I thought it was just another one of those dumb things that moms say, but now I actually understood it. Up until now I felt that my love for Connor had been quite well grounded, especially given the truth of who he was.

I thought I’d dealt with it and was quite prepared to help him do whatever it was that he needed to do, so long as we could be together. I’d thought that no matter what happened, he’d always be able to save me, would always want to save me, and that we were unbreakable.

But we weren’t, really. He’d spent ten thousand years saving this world and it was clear that, whatever he felt about me, he wasn’t about to let me get in the way of that.

I got it, I really did.

It’s just that, despite the fact that he’d saved the world and I’d wanted him to do it, I was hurting.

I tossed and turned and tried to reconcile it all, but there would be no happy revelation, no neat and tidy ending.

This too, was part of the horror of knowing Connor. It was never going to be a simple love . . . I could see that now.

2

The bling of an SMS woke me. It wasn’t going to be from Connor - he didn’t own a phone and even if he did, he would never text.

Or call.

It wasn’t going to be from Ethan either, because he was no longer living in the world. Wherever he was, they didn’t have phones.

I already knew who it was going to be. I picked up the phone and read:

OMG! Will be there at 10! Don’t say no ;)

I smiled. Sarah.

I was going to have to do some serious explaining. Sarah had known that I had a secret boyfriend, but nobody knew that it was Connor. Except for my mother.

Now, everybody knew.

Laying on my bed, I looked up at the mobiles floating above. My favorite one with the silver moon and golden stars. The purple and pink unicorns. The rainbow array of smiley faces.

Gifts from a much simpler time when unicorns might have been real for me, when smiley faces seemed so obvious and straightforward. The world had been a happy place.

Now I knew that unicorns weren’t real.

And the world was not always a happy place.

I sighed. Sarah was coming and I had to get my story straight. It had to be the same story for everyone and it had to make sense – particularly the part where Ethan just vanished from the prom. I didn’t know what kind of covering up Connor and Ingrid were going to do but I had to say something in the meantime.

I stayed in my bedroom until I had everything worked out in my head. When I was ready, I showered and dressed and went down for breakfast. My father was out, Ben was mooching around the sitting room watching cartoons. My mother was at the countertop, reading the Saturday paper.

She looked up as I entered.

"So . . ? Was it everything a prom should be? Apart from the fact that the boy you went with wasn’t your boyfriend and your actual boyfriend didn’t even go, I mean."

I rolled my eyes. Way to take the gloss off, Mom.

She shrugged. It’s not my fault you made things so complicated. She rose to reheat the kettle.

I opened the cupboard and ran my finger along the cereal boxes. I didn’t really feel like cereal – what I really wanted was one of Louise’s breakfasts; muffins and pancakes and berries and fruits.

But that wasn’t going to happen today. I settled for something chocolaty and poured it into a bowl.

Mom waited beside the kettle, watching me expectantly.

I took the milk from the fridge and filled up my bowl. Then I sat down and contemplated my spoon.

It was different, I admitted. "But it all worked out in the end. Ethan got to have me as his prom date, which had been his plan all along. Angus had a great time with Ingrid - I think he’s already fallen in love with her.

Not hard to do, Mom said. Ingrid’s lovely.

Sarah and Brandon did a lot of kissing for a couple who’ve only just got together, and Rob and Toby officially came out, so now everyone knows.

"Rob and Toby came out? Mom was gleefully horrified. Good God - how did that go?"

I smiled. They danced together and most people thought it was kind of a joke. But during the last dance, they kissed. And then everyone got it.

"They kissed? In front of everyone? What did everyone do?"

I don’t really know, I said, because at the same time they were doing that, Connor and I were having a kiss of our own. I think everyone didn’t really know which was the biggest freakshow – the gay couple or Connor kissing me.

Mom eyed me. Connor turned up at the prom? I thought you said he’d rather die than go.

I shrugged. At the last minute, he just came.

He came to save my life and ended up blowing Ethan and his cronies off the earth, and I died, but those are just details.

Mom frowned. I bet Ethan wasn’t impressed.

He left in a huff – I haven’t spoken to him since. Connor brought me home.

Mom softened. I wouldn’t have thought Connor the type to do the whole romantic last dance thing.

I smiled. He so didn’t want to, but he did, for me.

I wandered dreamily into the memory. Not all of the prom had been horrific. Not the last five minutes, anyway.

Mom turned a page of the newspaper. Well I’m happy for you, dear. I just hope Ethan isn’t feeling too bad about all of this.

I resisted rolling my eyes - I knew how much my mother adored Ethan. After three years of having the golden haired, blue-eyed boy visit her daughter, to suddenly find Ethan not even in the running had been disconcerting, to say the least. And then to find out that I had instead given my heart to the new kid on the block, the rudely aloof and inscrutable Connor Harman . . . that had been a huge upset.

Mom thought Connor was a major hottie, but she still hadn’t warmed to him as a person, or to the idea that I was so deeply committed to him. I had the feeling that my parents were just biding their time, waiting to see if my sudden infatuation would wear off.

Good luck with that, I thought.

Anyway, I said, I’m going to Connor’s this afternoon and staying for dinner, if that’s okay with you.

You just saw him last night."

"For one dance, I pointed out. After not seeing him all week. He was in pain all day, every day. This will be the first proper time we’ve been together since last weekend."

Mom sighed. Fine, whatever, but it would nice if Connor could come here for dinner one night, now that he’s officially your boyfriend. It is official now, right - since you kissed in front of the whole school?

I nodded. It’s official. But I’ll work on the coming to dinner idea for a little longer, if that’s okay.

Will he be coming to your party, at least? Do you even know what you’re doing for your birthday?

I shrugged. I’d been so busy worrying about Ethan and Connor and the End of Days and the end of school that my eighteenth birthday had kind of faded into the background. I hadn’t thought about it, but I’ve got loads of free time now – once school’s finished.

Mom snorted. As if you’re going to learn anything in the last three days - it’s more of a social event from this point on. I don’t know why they bother bringing you back after the prom.

Crossing the T’s, I guess. Anyway, I like it – it’s our last chance to catch up all together and say goodbye. A week from now we could all be anywhere.

Mom narrowed her eyes. Have you heard back from any of the colleges?

No. I knew I wouldn’t, because Ethan had fixed it so that no college would take me. I was just lost in the system. In truth I wasn’t sure I even wanted to go away to college. I wanted to stay with Connor. Given a choice between helping the world by doing social sciences, or helping the world by keeping Connor alive, I’d take Connor any day.

Well, I’m sure you will, dear. Everyone does, in the end.

I took my cereal and went into the sitting room. I flopped down next to Ben on the sofa. He frowned at me.

He had every right to, I supposed, it’s not like I joined him to watch cartoons on an average Saturday. But right now, mindlessly watching TV was easier than facing any more questions about the prom, or my future. I took a mouthful of cereal.

Ben called back over his shoulder: "Mom, Emma’s chewing too loud."

I looked at him. Are you serious?

Emma, Mom called out, close your mouth while you’re eating. Ben, stop being jealous of your sister – you’ll get your own prom soon enough and then you can stay up as late as you like too.

Ben cold-shouldered me and turned back to the TV.

I kind of really didn’t care. In the old days, the pre-Connor days, I would have launched into a full-scale war with my twelve-year old brother – a war that I would have won, eventually.

But now, faced with the day to day reality of all the Evil that occurred in the world, and faced with watching Connor writhe in pain while he bore the burden of that Evil, somehow the petty grievances of a younger brother seemed irrelevant.

While Ben sulked about me getting to stay up late, whole villages in Nigeria were being destroyed by militia. Chinese dissidents were being tortured by their own government. Women and girls were suffering unspeakable crimes under fundamentalist rule. Men were murdering their brothers, their wives . . . total strangers.

Name a crime and it was happening somewhere in the world. I knew this now, understood it only too clearly.

Knowing it was the price I paid for wanting to be with Connor.

So I curled up on the sofa and ate my cereal silently and laughed at the cartoons, because I understood now how important it was to enjoy each moment.

At ten o’clock the doorbell rang.

I opened the door, already grinning.

Sarah squealed in delight and jumped into a hug. We bounced up and down, holding each other, giggling.

This, finally, was the release I had been waiting for. I couldn’t tell Sarah everything, but I could tell her enough.

OMG! She exclaimed. "You will apologize and then you will give me all the goss!"

From the kitchen Mom called out: Hi, Sarah.

Hi, Mrs. Hart, Sarah grabbed my hand. "Bedroom, now."

Inside my room we dropped onto the bed.

Apology first, I said sheepishly. Sorry for not telling you.

Sarah threw up her hands. "Connor Harman, girl! Who would have thought it?"

I know.

All this time I thought you despised each other and last night he’s kissing you in front of everyone!

I smiled. I know.

Tell me from the start, Sarah said, because the day you met him you hated him on sight. What happened?

I sighed; the memory still made me feel warm. That night he stayed over because of the storm - when he rescued the Tinkmeister for me. He was rude and he didn’t want to help, but he still did. Then at his house, when I met Louise, She told me that he was sweet.

Sarah frowned. I don’t see sweet.

Neither could I, I agreed. But because she talked about him like he was a nice person, I began to see that underneath, maybe he was. He’s rude and obnoxious to keep people away, but he’s not actually like that. Underneath he’s . . . a good guy.

Sarah shrugged. I’ll take your word for it. Although he did look a bit sweet last night, kissing you on the dance floor. She snorted: But all this time you were keeping it secret even from me! You couldn’t trust me with that? I wouldn’t have told Ethan.

I felt bad, but Ethan could read minds; what else could I have done? Ethan’s not an idiot - he was already looking for it. I know it wasn’t fair on you, but sooner or later you and I together would have given it away. I just needed him not to lose the plot until after prom.

Have you seen him? After Connor showed up he was just gone.

I shook my head. Connor wasn’t supposed to come to the prom - I think Ethan took it badly. He’ll call and we’ll argue about it and it will be over.

So what’s Connor really like? Sarah asked. Under all that prickly arrogance? Is he a good kisser? Have you -

She eyed me carefully. "Have you, you know?"

I shook my head. No, not going to happen any time soon. But yes, the kissing is nice.

I didn’t really want to say too much about Connor. He had maintained his intense privacy for millennia and for me to keenly give away his closest personal secrets seemed wrong. Girl talk about boys was supposed to be secret and explicit, but somehow it felt like a betrayal to talk about him in that way.

Sarah shook her head. "He’s not really my type, not like Brandon, (she sighed his name), but I guess I can see the attraction from your point of view. Is he, you know, as intense as he looks?"

Name something about Connor that isn’t intense.

I can’t really describe him. He wouldn’t want me to, anyway. On Monday, you have to treat him like you always do. He doesn’t want the whole new boyfriend treatment.

Sarah pouted. "But this is so major."

I shrugged. Not really, not compared to Rob and Toby coming out, I think the school will be more distracted by them. I’m a Nobody and Connor’s a Lone Wolf and I think most people can’t be bothered with us. But if you see Angus and the others first can you let them know to leave him alone?

But what about double dating? Can we do that?

I shook my head. The price I pay for being in love with Connor is not sharing him with my friends.

Sarah bit her lip. Have you actually said the L-word, to him? Did he say it back?

I nodded.

She gasped. Oh . . . wow. Intense.

Yeah, pretty much.

Sarah had no idea. Sarah could never have an idea. I didn’t think that she should have to bear the burden of knowing about Connor and the Angels. I loved Sarah, but I wasn’t sure that she was the kind of person who could actually deal with that knowledge.

And, as Connor had told me, once a person knew who he was, the knowledge could never be erased.

I didn’t like the thought that if one day I and Sarah were no longer such close friends, she would still have to live on knowing that such things existed in the world. It might seriously mess her up.

Anyway, I said, I don’t want to talk about Connor. Tell me about Brandon, right from the moment he picked you up.

My being with Connor was big news, but for Sarah the biggest news was Brandon Kilbey suddenly asking her to the prom. She was only too happy to switch topics and stay on the subject of Brandon for the rest of the morning.

I was only too happy to let her.

3

At two-thirty I caught the bus to Connor’s house. I walked down Van Wagenen Avenue in the sunshine, enjoying the summer warmth, enjoying the freedom of not having to worry about being Watched by Angels.

As I walked past Ingrid’s house, I saw a silver Ford sedan parked in Ingrid’s driveway.

My heart skipped a beat.

Please don’t let it be another Angel, I thought, not so soon. Please, just let us have some space.

I walked up the long driveway to Connor’s house, under the shade of the cherry trees, and walked around the side of the house to the rear entrance.

As I rounded the house, I was surprised to see Connor sitting outside. He was on the top step, his arms folded across his knees, gazing out at the garden. He was wearing the black corduroy shirt that I loved so much, with a red t-shirt underneath. Always the black fingerless gloves and the black jeans.

If Lucifer has a uniform, I thought, this would be it.

But it was just so him, and it told the world what he wanted the world to know:

Stay. Away.

As I drew closer, he turned to me.

And there he was, the guy that saved the world. The guy who had killed thousands, but saved the cat from my roof. The guy who loved me, but had let me die last night.

He didn’t rise as I approached, so I sat down silently next to him. Connor didn’t do cheerful greetings and schmaltzy reunions.

He waved a hand towards his garden. Towards the massive expanse of manicured hedges and the long vine-covered arbor that ran from one side of his property to the other.

A girl I know once told me off for not appreciating my garden, he said. So here I am.

I nudged him. What level?

He shrugged. One.

Maybe the bad guys have worn themselves out after last week.

Maybe.

I looked around. Is Louise in?

We have business first. Connor rose and offered me his hand. He helped me to my feet.

I expected him to lead me inside, but instead he led me down the steps and towards Ingrid’s house. I wanted to ask why but didn’t: Connor hated dumb questions and I would find out soon enough. I just hoped that Ingrid knew we were coming.

Ingrid apparently did know we were coming, because she met us at the rear door. She grinned excitedly when she saw me, then fell into subdued silence as Connor followed. As far as I knew, it was the first time Connor had been inside her house. He’d been in her garden before, just once, but this was different:

This was Ingrid’s personal space; her refuge.

Not that anywhere was a refuge from Connor.

As we walked into the open, bright sitting room, I saw a Japanese man seated on the sofa. The man was around fifty to sixty, in a black suit, with long gray hair neatly tied back. A briefcase rested on the coffee table and beside it, several ledgers. Sitting on top of one of the ledgers was Ethan’s cell phone.

As we approached, he rose and bowed.

Mr. Harman. His tone that implied that he and Connor had met many times before, and not always under favorable conditions.

Akira Sa, Connor shook his hand. This is Emma Hart. She’s with me.

She’s with me. The straightforward admission to the world that we were together. It gave me a little warm glow inside; it made me feel safe.

Maybe not as safe as I once thought I was, but still . . . safe.

Miss Hart, Akira politely shook my hand. He motioned to us to sit on the sofa across from him. Ingrid came from the kitchen with a tray of tea and sodas and set it on the table. She chose to sit near Akira rather than sit on the same sofa as Connor. She tucked her legs in tightly and nervously twisted her hands in her lap.

Connor leaned back into the sofa and waited.

So, Akira said, bit of a messy one. I thought these days were long behind us.

I didn’t start it.

You certainly finished it.

Connor shrugged.

Akira patiently wrote something down in one of the ledgers.

Bart and Frank I can deal with, he said. They weren’t here very long and they didn’t really interact. But Ethan’s the tricky one - I need everything you’ve got.

Connor rested a hand on my arm. Emma knew him for three years.

Akira looked to me. Then, my dear Miss Hart, I shall turn my sole attention to you.

I looked at him blankly.

Akira smiled. I’m the Cleaner; I clean up the messes that the Angels make. He looked at Connor. "Some Angels make more mess than others."

Connor only blinked at him.

Akira went on: Ethan’s disappearance leaves unanswered questions. I’d like you to tell me everything you know about him – where he lived, who his friends were, what sports teams he was a part of, places he may have frequented. The kinds of things I need to know so that I can clean up the details in the wake of his sudden departure.

I nodded: I could help with that. If anything, it seemed a very ordinary, Mortal kind of task.

Akira picked up his pen. We’ll start with his address. Do you know where he lived?

I told him. Beside me, Connor rose. He motioned to Ingrid to follow him.

Ingrid paled. Reluctantly, she trailed upstairs after him. Before she rose out of sight, she threw me a helpless look.

I gave her a reassuring smile but it didn’t work: Ingrid was far too afraid for that.

I could tell Akira a lot about Ethan’s life, as it turned out. I could name the people that he knew at school, the people he talked about online, which gym he had a membership with and all kinds of information that I didn’t realize that I knew.

I met his father only once, I told Akira, although that doesn’t really make sense now – it can’t have been his actual father.

Akira nodded. Another Angel. We cover for one another all the time.

But I’m sure he called him his father. Which means he must have lied – and Angels can’t lie.

The Cleaner shook his head. Angels consider themselves one large family, so to speak. We refer to one another as brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers - like the Mafia. We can use those terms and it’s not lying . . . technically.

The Mafia. That was ironic. Given Ethan’s recent dealings, I didn’t find the comparison so far-fetched. Not all Angels were angelic.

I could hear voices from upstairs: Connor, insisting on something and Ingrid, arguing weakly against it.

I’ll be checking his police record, Akira said. Anything you can think of that may have drawn their attention to him?

Ethan? I shook my head. He was always the good guy, you know, until the end. I don’t think he ever even got a speeding fine.

Well, he wouldn’t. None of us ever do.

There were more questions, as Akira poured tea and I drank the soda: what teachers might be expecting work to be finished in the last three days, would any of them be concerned enough to call Ethan’s father, which of his friends might drop by his house to see if he was there.

I also explained about my actual relationship status with Ethan – how Ethan wanted to be my boyfriend and had assumed that it would happen (despite my not sharing his feelings), and how Connor’s arrival had ruined his plans.

When I finished by explaining how Ethan had just vanished from the prom, Akira assured me that a suitable cover story would be created.

I’ll use his Facebook page to tell everyone that, in the light of his recent heartbreak he’s chosen to move to college early. It seems the easiest play.

It did seem easy. It made perfect sense. Given Ethan’s emotional intensity in the last few weeks, no-one would be surprised that my sudden appearance with Connor would drive him away.

Finally, Akira seemed satisfied. He took a sip of tea.

Now, he added, in the interest of future expediency, I would also like to record your details. We might as well do this now, rather than . . . after.

I frowned at him.

Akira merely shrugged. "You’re Mortal, Miss Hart. In my experience, Mortals who become caught up in the crossfire between heaven and hell, figuratively speaking, don’t fare so well. I’m sure Mr. Harman means well, but for you, nothing is guaranteed anymore. You must understand that."

I wanted to argue back that Connor would do everything he could to protect me, and that I would do whatever it took to protect myself, but Akira looked as if he already knew that.

Knew it, and didn’t care.

"I will point out that you did die, last night, he reminded me, so perhaps a little paperwork right now will save us all some trouble later."

I didn’t want to give him my details - it seemed like already admitting defeat. But the thought of how my parents and friends and might feel if I died or disappeared without answers was unbearable. Helping The Cleaner now would help the people I loved if the worst did happen.

So I gave him my address, phone numbers, Facebook and Instagram accounts, friends, family, everyone I knew, all the while hoping that no-one would ever need to use them.

When he was finished, he wrote the letters MM at the top of his notes.

I was intrigued. What does MM mean?

He smiled at me. It’s a memory trick, to remind me of your name – not that I imagine I will forget it, whilst you remain with Mr Harman. He tapped the letters: MM: Mere Mortal, and onomatopoeia for your name, Emma.

It was clever, I admit to admit, even if in his eyes I was only mere.

This information, I said, when we were finished, you won’t ever give it out to another Angel, will you?

Akira pursed his lips, clearly amused. My dear Miss Hart, you don’t imagine that the Angels don’t already know who you are, do you? In his entire existence, Mr. Harman has never entertained a relationship, not one anyone cares about, at least. He set his pen down on his ledger.

Now here you are. You are very much the topic of conversation of Angels all around the world, trust me. Some more than others.

I regarded him warily. Do you know about those ones? I asked. The ones that worked with Ethan?

Akira blinked at me. My task is to clean up the messes that Angels leave behind, so that the world goes on about its business in peace and ignorance. I do not judge nor do I take sides. And I do not discuss one client with another.

How long have you been doing this?

He closed his ledger. Thirty-seven hundred years, give or take.

Is it harder now? I asked. With everyone hooked into social media?

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, it is. A thousand years ago if an Angel wreaked havoc on a village, it was very much contained to that one village. Anything left unexplained simply became rumor or conjecture or superstition. Now the world is one giant village and everyone knows everyone."

He sighed. It’s a great deal more work. I’m thinking of taking on a personal assistant.

An Angel wreaking havoc, I eyed him. Did you mean Connor?

Akira allowed a smile. "Not always. Some Elders have a lot to answer for too. But in his time, Mr. Harman has been a very busy man." His eye twitched.

I knew what Connor had done. There had been a time when the pain and the power drove him to megalomaniacal madness. He had destroyed whole kingdoms, whole civilizations. He had hurt thousands of people, millions. He had earned every one of the terrible names he had been given by Man.

And he had finally learned, in the end, that the pain would always come, no matter what he did. Destroying and hurting and killing would make it less, but it could never make the pain go.

And so he had made himself small again, overlooked and unheeded by the Mortals, suffering in silence and ignominy. Bearing the Burden on behalf of the world.

That was the Connor I had fallen in love with.

Upstairs, the argument ended. Connor appeared at the top of the staircase and started down.

Akira put the ledgers and Ethan’s cell phone into his briefcase and stood up. Thank you for your co-operation, Miss Hart, it was a pleasure to meet you.

He offered his hand. I rose and shook it. His grip was firm, capable.

Connor came down and shook Akira’s hand.

Akira bowed. Take care, Mr. Harman. Hopefully I won’t have to be back this way for a while. He looked pointedly at me.

Connor didn’t reply. He saw Akira to the front door.

I started up the stairs to go and see if Ingrid was all right, but the sound of voices made me pause.

"She’s Marked, Connor."

Really.

Their voices were clear, rebounding off the wood and stone of the entrance and back into the living room.

You shouldn’t have allowed this. You should have kept her away.

I tried. I couldn’t . . . A pause and then: I won’t.

You think yourself above God’s laws?

"It’s love, Akira. The rules don’t apply."

I think in this case they might.

I don’t care.

There could be repercussions.

"It’s me."

And there it is, the old arrogance. Not mellowed after all this time.

Connor snorted. You’ve worked with me long enough - you’ve seen the worst of what I’ve been. I do God’s will. I do what has to be done. In return for that, I appear to be given a certain latitude.

Apparently so. But in this case . . .

God would deny me this? Ten thousand years and this is the first time I dare love someone. Connor’s voice was a low growl. Whoever tries to take this from me will pay.

And if that’s God?

"Then bring it."

Paused on the step, I shivered.

So be it. I wish you well.

The door opened and closed. I looked upstairs to see Ingrid hesitantly coming down. She looked miserable.

You okay? I asked.

Ingrid folded her arms and pouted as Connor came back into the room. He glowered up at her.

‘What’s going on?" I asked.

Ingrid’s going to London. Connor said. To discover who the Nine Angels are and where I can find them.

Ingrid stomped down the stairs and flopped onto the sofa. He wants me to betray my own kind. I don’t agree with what they did, but he’s going to cold-heartedly destroy them.

I sat down beside her and looked to Connor. He stood aloof and dispassionate. As far as he was concerned, the matter was settled.

I was torn. I knew that Ingrid couldn’t just betray the Angels and she shouldn’t have to. But the Nine Angels would come for both Connor and I, if Connor didn’t get to them first.

Ingrid, I said quietly, I know what Connor’s asking feels wrong, but . . .

I struggled to find my way. Ingrid was always so good at finding just the right words to help people. I didn’t want to fail her.

I went on: What Ethan and those Angels did was wrong too. They hurt people, hundreds of people, just to give Connor pain. They’ll do it again if Connor can’t stop them. It’s not like they’re doing to die - they’re Angels, they’ll go back to God. I watched Ethan go, it was okay.

It hadn’t been okay. Ethan had been sent screaming in agony back to God in a flaming ball of unholy fire. At the time, I felt he’d deserved nothing less.

Fortunately, Ingrid hadn’t seen that part – she’d come only after all three Angels were dispatched.

Ingrid wrapped her arms around her knees. I rested a hand on her back.

Look, I said softly, just the other day I came here alone and hurting and you looked after me. You helped me. You told me I had to look past all the moral choices and the ethics and just feel my way through it.

I looked over at Connor. He watched us, unmoving.

Waiting.

I knew what he was doing. He could make Ingrid go and do his bidding, but he was giving me the chance to help her reach that decision herself. He would rather that Ingrid was persuaded, instead of compelled.

So would I. You knew how much I wanted to be with Connor, I whispered. You taught me that love was the only way through it all.

Ingrid looked up at me.

I went on: I think that maybe it’s the same for you now. You have to make choices that on the surface seem bad, but if you rise above them, to where the love is, you might be able to work through this. What Connor has to do is a bad thing, but it will bring about a good thing. None of us want the End of Days, him least of all. He’s the one who has suffered the longest to stop it from happening. He knows more than anyone else how much it hurts to keep us all safe.

I met Connor’s gaze.

He loves us, Ingrid. I said quietly. He loves all of us so much that he’ll do whatever it takes to keep us here.

I looked down at her. "But the Nine Angels will come for us and if they win, everyone dies."

Ingrid sighed.

I hugged her. She felt so fragile in my arms. I loved her so much; I wanted to squeeze her until she popped.

But it feels so wrong, she murmured.

Connor seems wrong too. If you say his names to any Mortal, they hate him without question. But we know the truth of what he is, and we have to trust that, after all this time, he’s the only one who really knows what to do.

Ingrid said nothing.

Remember his pain. It could have killed me – maybe you too. He bears it for us.

Ingrid lifted her gaze to meet Connor’s.

I could see her remembering, how the pain burned her soul, how through Connor, she witnessed all the Evil in the world . . . felt how he bore it to save the world.

How the only thing that had saved her from it had been me.

Connor said nothing. Did nothing to try and convince her.

Finally, Ingrid let go a long, slow sigh. I hate this, she said softly. I hate being caught up in this with you. I just want to be the Angel on the other side of the world who hears about it afterwards, not the one caught between the Lucifer and the Elders, having to choose which side I’m on.

She looked down at her hands. But I’ll do it.

I let go a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. Thank you.

"You go