Page 61
Story: Sweet Evil
Sister Ruth was gone, and with her went whatever knowledge she’d held. Kaidan didn’t glance at me when I climbed back in with the box on my lap. He made a fast turn and exited the lot, kicking up gravel. His mood hadn’t improved.
I wanted him to say something. I ran my fingers along the taped edges of the box, sorting through a list of meaningless topics that could fill the space between us. Sister Ruth’s death only deepened the void.
When we got back to the hotel, we walked to the room together. I climbed on my bed and sat with the box on my lap. I looked up at Kaidan, who was half sitting, half leaning on the table across from me with his arms crossed and his eyes far away in thought.
“May I use one of your knives?” I asked.
“Here, let me.” He sat across from me and pulled out a knife, slicing around the edges. I opened the cardboard flap. Inside was a wooden box so old and smooth that the wood looked petrified. I pulled it out and set the cardboard box on the floor. A small gold clasp held the lid shut. I undid the clasp and lifted the lid. At first I couldn’t process what I was seeing. It was made of silver... no, maybe it was gold... no... What was it? It glimmered with a range of metallic colors from bronze to platinum, as if it were alive.
“Is that a sword hilt?” I asked. Just looking at it frightened me. “What’s it made of?”
Kaidan was leaning toward it and staring with rapt disbelief.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing toward it.
“Go ahead.”
He gingerly picked it up and cradled it in his hand, turning it from side to side. The metal shimmered like nothing I’d ever seen.
“I don’t believe it,” Kaidan whispered.
“What? What is it?”
His face seemed to register the object, and he dropped it back into the wooden box, rubbing his hands together and staring down with awe-inspired terror.
I reached down to feel it myself, but when my finger touched the warm metal, a bolt of energy zapped through my finger and up my arm. I yelled and yanked my hand away. Kaidan sat up straight and stared at me, hair hanging in his rounded eyes.
“What is this thing?” I asked.
“It clearly wasn’t forged on earth,” he stammered. “I think... But it’s impossible. A Sword of Righteousness?”
“What’s that?”
“They were used by the angels in the war of the heavens.”
Now it was my turn to gawk down at it with that same fearful respect.
“But why is she giving it to me?” My heart accelerated.
“Only the angels of light could use them. The old legends say the blade will appear only when needed if the wielder is pure of heart. Anna... it’s the one known weapon that can take out a demon spirit.”
We stared at each other, sharing a secret that could doom us.
“And why is she giving it to me?” I asked again, my heart beating as fast as it could.
I have no idea how long we continued to stare at each other, searching for meaning, before he stood up and moved away from me. He felt for his phone in his pocket and spoke to me as he was getting on his shoes and heading for the door.
“I need to clear my head. Patti called while you were in the convent and I told her about Sister Ruth. Call her on the room phone and I’ll pay the charge.” The door shut behind him and I sat there stunned.
Sister Ruth gave me a weapon. I didn’t know what to do with a sword! Was I expected to kill demons? If only I’d come to L.A. sooner so I could speak with her.
I called Patti with the intention of telling her everything about the visit with my father and what Sister Ruth left me, and then I remembered how careful the nun had been with the information. She would tell me only in person. So I told Patti all went well and I’d give her every detail when I got home. The phone felt unsafe.
“You sound exhausted, honey,” Patti said when I was finished. “Why don’t you go get some rest. We can talk more tomorrow, ’kay?”
I was worn out when we hung up. As I climbed into bed I wondered what Kaidan was doing and who he might be calling, not that it was any of my business. But I was worried about him. I thought about trying to listen for him, but if he wanted privacy he would be more than a mile away by now. Kaidan didn’t come back to the room until after I’d been in bed awhile, half in and half out of sleep.
I tossed and turned all night, even crying out and waking myself once with a dream I couldn’t recall. Kaidan lay still all night in his own bed. I never did hear his deep-sleep breathing.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
UNACCOMPANIED MINOR
I must have finally dozed off, only to be awoken by a screeching buzz. I sat straight up. It was four thirty in the morning. Kaidan hit the alarm.
“We need to get an early start,” he said, sounding wide-awake and just as forlorn as last night.
“Oh. Uh, m’kay.”
It was still dark out as we sped down the interstate. Despite a hot shower, I was still sleepy. The city was calm at this early hour on a Sunday morning. There were hardly any cars on the road. We passed a sign for LAX, which bothered me, because we hadn’t passed the airport on our way into the city.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He cleared his throat and said without kindness, “You’re going home today.”
My jaw dropped.
“Everything’s been arranged,” he said. “Patti will be waiting for you when your flight arrives in Atlanta.”
There it was again—rejection punching me in the stomach.
I wanted him to say something. I ran my fingers along the taped edges of the box, sorting through a list of meaningless topics that could fill the space between us. Sister Ruth’s death only deepened the void.
When we got back to the hotel, we walked to the room together. I climbed on my bed and sat with the box on my lap. I looked up at Kaidan, who was half sitting, half leaning on the table across from me with his arms crossed and his eyes far away in thought.
“May I use one of your knives?” I asked.
“Here, let me.” He sat across from me and pulled out a knife, slicing around the edges. I opened the cardboard flap. Inside was a wooden box so old and smooth that the wood looked petrified. I pulled it out and set the cardboard box on the floor. A small gold clasp held the lid shut. I undid the clasp and lifted the lid. At first I couldn’t process what I was seeing. It was made of silver... no, maybe it was gold... no... What was it? It glimmered with a range of metallic colors from bronze to platinum, as if it were alive.
“Is that a sword hilt?” I asked. Just looking at it frightened me. “What’s it made of?”
Kaidan was leaning toward it and staring with rapt disbelief.
“May I?” he asked, gesturing toward it.
“Go ahead.”
He gingerly picked it up and cradled it in his hand, turning it from side to side. The metal shimmered like nothing I’d ever seen.
“I don’t believe it,” Kaidan whispered.
“What? What is it?”
His face seemed to register the object, and he dropped it back into the wooden box, rubbing his hands together and staring down with awe-inspired terror.
I reached down to feel it myself, but when my finger touched the warm metal, a bolt of energy zapped through my finger and up my arm. I yelled and yanked my hand away. Kaidan sat up straight and stared at me, hair hanging in his rounded eyes.
“What is this thing?” I asked.
“It clearly wasn’t forged on earth,” he stammered. “I think... But it’s impossible. A Sword of Righteousness?”
“What’s that?”
“They were used by the angels in the war of the heavens.”
Now it was my turn to gawk down at it with that same fearful respect.
“But why is she giving it to me?” My heart accelerated.
“Only the angels of light could use them. The old legends say the blade will appear only when needed if the wielder is pure of heart. Anna... it’s the one known weapon that can take out a demon spirit.”
We stared at each other, sharing a secret that could doom us.
“And why is she giving it to me?” I asked again, my heart beating as fast as it could.
I have no idea how long we continued to stare at each other, searching for meaning, before he stood up and moved away from me. He felt for his phone in his pocket and spoke to me as he was getting on his shoes and heading for the door.
“I need to clear my head. Patti called while you were in the convent and I told her about Sister Ruth. Call her on the room phone and I’ll pay the charge.” The door shut behind him and I sat there stunned.
Sister Ruth gave me a weapon. I didn’t know what to do with a sword! Was I expected to kill demons? If only I’d come to L.A. sooner so I could speak with her.
I called Patti with the intention of telling her everything about the visit with my father and what Sister Ruth left me, and then I remembered how careful the nun had been with the information. She would tell me only in person. So I told Patti all went well and I’d give her every detail when I got home. The phone felt unsafe.
“You sound exhausted, honey,” Patti said when I was finished. “Why don’t you go get some rest. We can talk more tomorrow, ’kay?”
I was worn out when we hung up. As I climbed into bed I wondered what Kaidan was doing and who he might be calling, not that it was any of my business. But I was worried about him. I thought about trying to listen for him, but if he wanted privacy he would be more than a mile away by now. Kaidan didn’t come back to the room until after I’d been in bed awhile, half in and half out of sleep.
I tossed and turned all night, even crying out and waking myself once with a dream I couldn’t recall. Kaidan lay still all night in his own bed. I never did hear his deep-sleep breathing.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
UNACCOMPANIED MINOR
I must have finally dozed off, only to be awoken by a screeching buzz. I sat straight up. It was four thirty in the morning. Kaidan hit the alarm.
“We need to get an early start,” he said, sounding wide-awake and just as forlorn as last night.
“Oh. Uh, m’kay.”
It was still dark out as we sped down the interstate. Despite a hot shower, I was still sleepy. The city was calm at this early hour on a Sunday morning. There were hardly any cars on the road. We passed a sign for LAX, which bothered me, because we hadn’t passed the airport on our way into the city.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He cleared his throat and said without kindness, “You’re going home today.”
My jaw dropped.
“Everything’s been arranged,” he said. “Patti will be waiting for you when your flight arrives in Atlanta.”
There it was again—rejection punching me in the stomach.
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