Keepers: A Timeless Novella Page 2

  From down the hallway, a voice shouted, “Who used all the hot water?” This was followed by a snicker.

  My water and electric bill for this month was going to cost me a pretty penny. Maybe my boss, Tom Morris, the director of Paranormal Investigations at the FBI, would reimburse me. I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on. This place had turned into a circus. Angels, Fallen Angels, one of the Empyrean Guard, and my fiancée and her daughter were all staying here for a few days to discuss the current angel situation with Homeland Security and the FBI. Though, if anyone were to blame, it would be me. Yes, you heard that right. I had stupidly offered to let them stay here. What had I been thinking? I must have been out of my mind to agree to this. Sometimes it sucked being the good guy.

  Andrew came into the living room then, wearing one of my old T-shirts and a pair of pajama bottoms. “Joseph, do you have any of those bubbly drinks?” he asked.

  Jenna and I exchanged a look. “Champagne?” I wondered, taken aback by the question. Why would he be asking for that? “What are we celebrating?”

  Andrew shook his head. “No, not wine.” He paused, looking thoughtful. “Did you know champagne used to be called le vin du diable?” The way it slipped off his tongue in a perfect French accent surprised me, though many things about the angels had.

  Again, Jenna and I looked at each other and back to Andrew.

  “The devil’s wine,” he clarified.

  Gabriella came in from the kitchen and tossed Andrew a soda can. He caught it with ease. “He wants a Coke,” she explained, grinning.

  Andrew and Gabriella were sickeningly in love. He saved her from dying in a horrific plane crash, and the rest was history. He saved my life too, so I had no right to complain. If it weren’t for Gabriella and her love bunny, I would have never met Jenna. Maybe that was why I had offered my home as a place of refuge. Or maybe it was because I believed in their cause to protect mankind. Seemed important enough.

  “Thank you,” Andrew said gracefully to Gabriella. “Is this the same drink I had before?” He turned the can over in his hand, analyzing it.

  I had no idea what they were talking about, but I could only guess Andrew had experienced his first taste of soda while with her. Gabriella nodded, amusement tugging at her lips.

  “Just be careful opening it,” she added.

  “He’s never had Coke out of a can?” Jenna asked cheerfully.

  Andrew shook his head while flipping the can around, trying to figure out how to open it.

  “Shut the front door!” Jenna exclaimed.

  Andrew disappeared into the foyer, and when he returned, his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. “The door is shut?”

  He was truly confused by Jenna’s remark. I bit my cheek to stop from laughing. Jenna and Gabriella, however, didn’t bother holding in their mirth. They giggled until they turned red in the face. This was typical for them, as they usually found everything hilarious. And yeah, okay, I might have occasionally joined in; it was hard not to.

  Andrew stared at us as if we’d lost our minds. He smiled too, but it was clear he didn’t get that the joke was on him. The thing was, Andrew didn’t understand most common sayings. To make a long story short, he died in Italy around 1750 and came back to life in 2009. He learned faster than anyone I’d ever met, but slang terms were still new to him. This made for some entertaining conversations.

  “Oh,” Andrew said suddenly, his golden eyes lighting with knowledge. “I understand now.”

  He shared a look with Gabriella, and I knew she’d explained telepathically why we were laughing. While in Hawaii last year, they bonded, and now they were linked. I pushed the thoughts away, not wanting to picture Gabriella and Andrew doing the naked tango. Some things were better left unseen. Regardless, it still unsettled me when they communicated like that, but it was useful during battle, as was Andrew’s mental connection with the rest of the Guardian angels.

  Taking a seat, Andrew finally figured out how to open the can. His first sip gave him an expression of disgust and delight all rolled into one. He continued drinking, reveling in the taste. To be appeased so easily . . .

  “So Andrew,” Jenna started, leaning forward conspiratorially. “Are you as head over heels for my sister as Joseph lets on?”

  Andrew stared down at his feet, then desperately glanced at Gabriella. They did the silent conversation thing again before Andrew answered, “I love Gabriella very much. She’s my kindred soul.”

  Jenna went slack-jawed and turned to her sister. “That was cheating.”

  Gabriella sat on the other side of Jenna, crossed her legs, and pointed at herself, all innocent eyes. “You asked it that way on purpose,” Gabriella accused.

  “Just because you’re bumpin’ uglies with him doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun.” Jenna grinned. I swore she looked this stuff up just to tease Andrew. Once he figured out the slang, he usually got a kick out of it. I’d even heard him a time or two using some common phrases.

  Gabriella leaned back and waved a hand. “All right, get it out of your system.” She made a motion as if zipping her lips and then her head as if to close off their mental link.

  “It’s no fun now,” Jenna griped.

  “Joseph, you’re out of clean towels.” Lucia poked her head into the living room, the rest of her hidden behind the wall. Her red hair dripped water onto my wooden floors.

  “She’s in the buff.” Jenna guffawed. Gabriella rolled her eyes, beaming.

  I rose. “Go back to the bathroom. I’ll bring you a towel,” I ordered Lucia. She disappeared down the hall.

  “You have naked angels running around your house,” Jenna continued through her laughter. Gabby laughed louder.

  Seriously, it wasn’t that funny. I turned to Gabriella and Jenna. “Put a sock in it, you two.” I grinned at them and walked away.

  Before I shut the door to the garage where my washer and dryer were, Jenna shouted, “Elvis has left the building.”

  I chuckled. I knew I loved that woman for a reason.

  <>

  The following morning, I awoke to total chaos. Ever since we returned from Italy, we’d kept a low profile. Now that the whole world knew angels existed, it was only a matter of time before the press would discover Gabriella’s location. Images and videos of her, Andrew, Ehno, and Lucia went viral after the press conference announcing their existence.

  It started with a phone call. Jenna grumpily poked my side until I answered it. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and my alarm clock read 4:32 am.

  “Hello?” I mumbled. Whoever was on the other line was lucky I didn’t start shouting because five-year-old Jules was sleeping on the other side of Jenna.

  “Is this Agent Joseph Carter of the FBI?”

  I didn’t recognize the female voice and sat up. “Who’s asking?”

  “This is Rachelle Conway from CNN.”

  Before she had a chance to say another word, I hung up. I got out of bed and dressed, cursing the whole time. The phone rang again at the same time someone pounded on my bedroom door.

  I opened it a crack to see Chris. The Empyrean Guard’s massive frame took up the width and height of the hallway like the hulking beast he was. “There are hundreds of people outside,” he murmured, looking over my shoulder to the two sleeping forms.

  “Give me a second,” I whispered to Chris. He nodded, and I shut the door. The phone stopped ringing.

  Jenna rubbed at her eyes. “What’s wrong?” Jules didn’t stir—she could sleep through a gunfight.

  I went to Jenna. “Nothing, sweetie.” I kissed her and Jules on the forehead. “Go back to bed,” I whispered. “I’ll handle this.”

  The phone rang again, and I unplugged it from the wall. That was when my cell phone started to vibrate. I snatched it up and left the room. Everyone was awake and in the living room, though they all appeared haphazard and half asleep. On the coffee table were four phones that someone was smart enough to unplug.
My cell phone, on the other hand, continued to vibrate. I glanced down to see my boss’s name.

  I answered. “Director?”

  “Why am I seeing your house all over the news?” he barked. “I thought I told you to keep a low profile.”

  “We have,” I insisted. “Anyone who was seen on the news has stayed indoors. I don’t know how anyone found out they were here.”

  “Well someone messed up,” he snapped. I pulled the phone from my ear as he shouted, “This is a disaster!”

  “I’ll take care of it,” I promised, though I wasn’t sure how.

  “You better.” He hung up.

  I stared at the phone for a second before I realized everyone was watching me. Director Morris was right: this was a disaster.

  CHAPTER 3: GET THE HELL OUT OF DODGE

  I spent the majority of the morning on the phone with the FBI while everyone else made sure all windows and doors were locked and covered. This whole situation weirdly reminded me of a zombie apocalypse, except replace the zombies with the media. I wasn’t exactly sure which one was scarier. The sounds of a cartoon played in the background as Jules and Firen watched TV in the living room. With how crazy we were all acting, I had to find a way to distract Jules. The TV in my room, however, continued to flip between news stations. And guess who was the topic of conversation on every channel?

  Firen sat with her back ramrod straight, which was typical for the Fallen Angel. Jules had the rest of the couch to herself, but she still sat as close as she could to Firen. I didn’t understand their bizarre relationship, but Firen had proven herself to all of us when Empyrean Guards broke into my house and attacked any angel they could find.

  In my bedroom, I heard the channel change again. The news reporter was interviewing someone outside my house. I recognized the voice, but I couldn’t place it. That’s when I heard Gabriella shout, “It’s your nosy neighbor. Get in here!”

  I ran to my room in time to see my neighbor confess to a worldwide audience that he was the one to call the media.

  “I told you,” Gabriella said. “He’s nosier than an FBI agent.” That last part was muttered.

  My phone vibrated again. “Agent Carter,” I answered.

  “Turn on CNN,” Director Tom Morris responded, sounding tired.

  “Already there.”

  “I had this guy’s file pulled this morning, along with the rest of your neighbors. His name is Desperado.”

  Pause. A few seconds passed. He was waiting for my reaction.

  “Did you say Desperado?” I couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that bubbled to the surface.

  “Yeah,” the Director confirmed. “He changed his name when he turned eighteen. It was Melvin.”

  I was still laughing. “’Cause Desperado is so much better than Melvin.”

  Gabriella’s eyebrows flew up at that, and Andrew’s lips twitched. I gave them an ironic smile and left the room. Tom remained quiet as I reigned in my laughter.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked Tom.

  “Legally there’s nothing we can do, but maybe you could talk some sense into him.”

  “And say what?” I asked. “Could you not call the media? It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

  The Director cleared his throat. “True, but you could ask him not to give any details—” His words were abruptly cut off.

  “Joseph?” Gabriella called, her tone a mixture of anger and disbelief.

  Whatever she saw on the TV, so had the Director. Great. What now? Phone still against my ear, I went back into my bedroom. Photos were displayed on the TV screen. I sunk to the bed beside Jenna, and she took my hand. The Director said something in my ear, but my mind was focused on the TV. Gabriella plucked the phone from my hand and spoke quietly to the Director, then hung up.

  Gabby had been right all along. A story unfolded before my eyes in the form of photos, dates and times, and even a few videos. My neighbor wasn’t nosy, he was an intruder in our lives, a leeching insect who’d crawled under my windows to sneak a peek. He had recorded everything he ever saw like a spy with the NSA would. My stomach churned at the images. The media outside had gone quiet, and I’d bet every person capable was watching. My life, Jenna’s life, along with so many things that had gone on here was displayed for the world to see. My private life was now public.

  “How many are watching this?” Andrew whispered.

  I didn’t have an answer, and I honestly didn’t want to know.

  Firen and Jules came in then. Jules ran to the TV, grinning. “That’s Uncle Ehno!” she exclaimed.

  Firen took in our expressions and understood with a single glance that we were upset. She stood in the doorway to watch as more and more of our personal lives were displayed on the TV. I was sick. I wanted to turn it off or look away, but it was like a train wreck; I couldn’t. I didn’t want to confront my nosy neighbor—I wanted to bury him under six feet of dirt and pee on it.

  Images of Chris, who looked like a giant, were compared to fuzzy ones taken after the Empyrean Guard attacked Avella, Italy in a battle that shook the core beliefs of many religious followers across the world. I knew where this story was leading, and seconds later a newscaster said the dreadful words.

  “What isn’t the government telling us? They say they were fighting to protect us, but maybe they have another agenda. Why is an FBI agent harboring one of these giants? We want answers—we deserve answers.”

  A few quiet seconds passed as they compared more images, as if the silence would be what hammered the last nail into the proverbial coffin. The media outside my house went wild.

  When I was a teenager, I had a serious temper problem. I could go from cool to enraged in two seconds flat. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but there it is. There were two things I did regularly to reduce my stress: run and swim. After my first year of college on a swimming scholarship, I rarely felt anger, and usually any emotion I felt was mild to downright cheerful. I chalked my temper up to teenage hormones and left it in the past. After graduating college and joining the FBI, there’d been little to spark my ire. Even after everything that had happened since I met Gabby, I was still able to handle it all with a joke or some witty quip. Then Jenna and Jules entered my life, and I fell for them, hard. How could I not? And because of that, the wild temper I thought I’d put in the past had come back with a vengeance.

  After watching CNN, my blood was boiling. My muscles were wound so tight that at any moment they would recoil like springs. The image of my fist connecting with my neighbor’s face played over and over in my mind like a broken film of sweet pain. The idea became more and more appealing. Jenna carefully watched as a slew of feelings went through me. Usually I liked to keep a passive expression when intense emotions were involved, but I failed around Gabby and completely crumbled when it came to Jenna. Though I had an inkling it didn’t matter who I was around right then. My anger had shone through like a beacon of light in the dead of night.

  Jenna, trying to lighten the mood, said, “Guess we need to get the hell out of dodge?”

  This time the idiom didn’t do anything to alleviate how furious I was. I was going to have a talk with my neighbor, all right. I was going to kill him. My fists clenched, and I rose to my feet. Jenna’s half-smile disappeared.

  CHAPTER 4: BITE OFF MORE THAN YOU CAN CHEW

  My neighbor should count his lucky stars because Jenna saved mister Desperado’s life. I was about to wring the guy’s neck like a farmer would a chicken. That image in my mind was still rather clear and appealing, but I’d promised Jenna I wouldn’t kill the twerp. That was the nicest name I could come up with while Jules was in hearing range. Jenna didn’t, however, rule out a nasty and thorough tongue-lashing, even though I thought the guy deserved a lot worse. Missiles all aimed at his house might have crossed my mind, or at least a good tire slashing. Now that I thought about it, she didn’t forbid me from damaging his property. That did open a door to a whole slew of possibilities.


  Gabby sat creepily still, eyes unblinking, in a state of shock. She hadn’t reacted to our conversation in any way and continued to stare blankly at the TV, even though it was turned off. Andrew’s hand was on her knee, and the intensity in his gaze let me know he was mentally communicating with her. Lucia and Ehno looked stressed, and Firen had a look on her face that made me actually worry for my neighbor. The violet in her eyes seemed to ominously swirl, and the silver markings on her face accented the fierce emotions sparkling in her eyes.

  “I’m going next door,” I announced, my tone seething. I almost asked if Firen wanted to tag along.

  My abrupt statement was greeted with silence. Jenna stared warily at me but nodded ascent. She knew I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—let this go. I’d reached my limit on patience and understanding.

  No one stopped me when I left the room, and I didn’t think any of them really wanted to anyway.

  For the first time in days my house appeared absent of people, though I knew they were all crammed into my room, trying to process this new development in their reality. Before this, we all understood revealing the angels would cause some wild responses, but we’d hoped there would be more praying than pitchforking. We should have known better—prepared ourselves for this possibility. But how could we have known my neighbor thought he was some super secret spy watching our neighborhood. I mean, was watching Mrs. Jones across the street watering her flowers every day at sunset that interesting? Who knew how long he’d been spying on everyone on the street. Before the angels, my life had been downright yawnful. When had he taken such an interest in my life? Surely we weren’t the only people upset about this guy. Some of the families on my street had teenage sons and daughters. If Melvin—Desperado, whatever—had been this intrusive with all of them, he’d been more than nosy. I shivered at the thought of the creepy peeping tom, because that was exactly what he was. What else had he seen through my blinds that wasn’t shown on TV? My thoughts fueled every step I made.