Page 13 of Fallen
Turning my head, I inhaled deeply. Only one person smelled like that.
Lucian.
I immediately fingered the tablet for the pause button and tore out my earbuds.
“Lucian?” I asked, turning my face toward the scent.
“Yes.” A dry chuckle broke the silence. “Your hearing is superb, Anna.”
“You came this time.” I wasn’t sure if I meant my sentence as a statement or an accusation. I’d prayed to him many times over the past several days, but my dark angel never appeared.
“Listen. You can’t just summon me whenever you feel like. I’m the Prince of—”
“I needed to know.” I drew my knees to my chest, pulling at the hem of my nightgown to make sure it covered my legs, then wrapping my arms around the material. “I haven’t heard from you in a long time. I told another kid in class about you and he laughed. He said I wasn't just a cripple, but I was also stupid for making up a story about an angel.”
His shoes paced across the floor, causing the loose board to squeak. A breath of air left him, as if he sighed in exasperation or annoyance.
I rushed on. “I thought…I thought maybe I imagined the whole thing, that I reallywasa stupid blind girl.” My cheeks burned from embarrassment. Even at ten years old, I felt older than the other kids in school, and when the entire class had laughed at me, I’d wanted to run away. That day, I’d been glad I couldn’t see their faces. “I was afraid maybe he was right, that youweren’treal.”
“You are not stupid, Anna.” His wings rustled as he shifted. “I wish this wasn’t real,” Lucian whispered under his breath. The sound of his fingernail scraping across my dresser told me he stood three feet away. “You’re still in this damnable little room? Has the orphanage no extra space?”
“It’s okay. I never have visitors, so I don’t mind.” I let go of my knees and patted my hand across the comforter for my tablet. When they encountered the cool, smooth surface, I lifted the device toward him. “Hey, look at this, Lucian. The church found enough money to buy it for me.Andthey said I can download any book I want within my age and reading level. Isn’t that wonderful?”
I continued holding it in the direction I was sure he was standing.
Finally, after several seconds, the weight of the device left my hand. “Yes, Anna. It’s just grand.”
Twisting toward him, I let my legs dangle from the mattress, the tips of my toes brushing against the cold wooden floor.
“So, what have you been doing this year?” His voice was pleasant, reminding me of some of the narrators of my books, its tone smooth and low.
“I’ve been learning to paint.” I smiled, then dug a hand between my mattress and box spring, searching for my prize. A thin panel met my fingertips, and I clutched the edge tightly, bringing it out and flipping it so that the textured side faced Lucian. “I don’t know if it’s very good, but Sister Carrie helped me learn how to tell which color is which by touching the wet paint, and again after it dries. Cool, huh?”
For a moment, I couldn’t hear any movement from Lucian, not even his breathing or the rustle of his wings.
I lowered the picture, suddenly mortified I'd brought it out for him to see.It must be so terrible he can’t even speak.
“That’s”—he cleared his throat—“quite impressive.” Gently, he took the painting from my grasp. The rasp of the pads of his fingers brushing the surface filled the space between us. “But who is this, dear Anna?”
“You, silly.” I giggled, wondering how horrible the picture must be if he had to ask who I’d painted. “I’m sorry it’s not very good. I don’t know what you look like, so I based it on how you make me feel, which is safe and protected.”
A snapping noise told me his wings stretched outward.
“I tried to get the sisters to take me on this year’s art museum trip, but Sister Mary said no, that one blind girl wasn’t worth the trouble when she couldn’t even see the art anyways.” I shrugged, trying to push down the shame and hurt her words had caused. “But it’s okay. When I’m an adult and get out of this place, I can go by myself.”
He set the painting onto my lap, and I stuffed it under my mattress. For some reason, it was special to me. It was the only painting I’d never shown to Sister Carrie. By keeping it hidden, it was like Lucian somehow belonged to me, even though I knew coveting was a sin, just like stealing.
“Change out of your night clothes,” he said in a gruff voice.
“Why?” My head tilted to his voice.
“Because we’re going on our own field trip.”
“Really?” A thrill of excitement shot through my limbs, and I shot up to stand, clapping my hands.
“Yes. I’ll be back in a few minutes. I expect you to be dressed for the outdoors. It’s cold and I will not have you sick on my account.”
The pressure lessened in the room, telling me he’d given me privacy to change, so I counted the steps to my dresser and began rummaging through the drawers. After wrapping myself in a thick sweater and jeans, I stuffed my feet into boots and shrugged into a coat.
