Grounded! More Confessions of an Angel in Training (9781310362958) Read online

  I’m heading the wrong way. Like, really, really wrong. Why did I start daydreaming? The door opens, sounding like it’s as disgusted with me as I feel, and I have to get pushy, fighting against a wave of the new passengers getting on board. As the train pulls away, I glance at the time.

  I’m going to be late. I curse my hair and all its offspring. There’s not a snowball’s chance in Hell that I’ll make it to…

  Wait! I can bi-locate, putting one version of myself at the theater. Then, another version can ride the subway and we’ll hook up later. Not even a lot later. Yeah, that’ll work.

  Thanks be to The Old Man for creating this Power. It’s about to save my butt, and I’m pretty sure this qualifies as using it for my Mission.

  Moments later I’ve got a split personality.

  }{

  I open the heavy metal door and step into the quiet, seemingly deserted theater. It’s mostly dark, my footsteps echoing as I head for backstage. Small dimly lit sconces light the path to the dressing rooms. I flip the switch, and the globe bulbs light up, surrounding the mirror. In the reflection, I gawk at the disaster that is my hair.

  A figure appears over my shoulder. Who?

  I jump. And hold in a scream. It’s the girl who was sitting with Izzy during the audition. I lay a hand over my racing heart. “You scared me to high Heaven.”

  She laughs. With her chin barely tilted up, she scans me up and down. “You’re the new back-up singer. Grace, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. Grace Lightbourne.”

  “You’re early. You know that, right?”

  Early, um…not exactly. “Well—first day, good impressions and all that jazz.” I fight with everything I have to maintain my Angelic Poise but feel my shoulders droop. She makes me uncomfortable and self-conscious, like I get around Seraphim or Thrones.

  “You don’t need to make a good impression on me,” she says, still using a haughty tone of voice.

  It ruffles the feathers I haven’t gotten yet. “And you are—?”

  “Cherish.”

  }{

  As the other half of me rides the subway, my mouth drops open. I didn’t realize she was that close to Izzy. Definitely didn’t realize that I’d be working with Victor’s ex.

  We reach Times Square, and I follow the signs, although I’m pretty sure they’re not divine, for my transfer to the Broadway line. As I wait for the next train to arrive, I cross-examine myself.

  Why would Michael have picked me for this Mission? Really, any Mission, but especially this one? And how likely is it that we’d all get thrown together? Doesn’t seem like pure coincidence, but I can’t make sense of it either.

  Taking my seat, I glance over at the rider next to me. And…this day just keeps getting weirder and weirder. It’s the guy from Grand Central. Not the homeless one, but the guy who rescued me. He hasn’t noticed me, so I study his face. An eight o'clock shadow covers his cheeks and jaw. Pale skin. Deep set eyes. Dark, closely cropped hair. He’s slight, not much bigger than me. It’s my chance to thank him. I barely touch his forearm. “Um…”

  He turns to look at me, and then smiles with his eyes crinkled in a welcoming way that makes me feel like I’m the only other person on the train. “What a nice surprise! You survived Grand Central.”

  “I did!”

  “So, now are you enjoying your visit to New York?”

  It’s great to have a familiar face in the midst of a nameless crowd. He seems like such a great guy. “I’m not visiting—”

  }{

  “I plan on staying for a while,” both versions of me say.

  But it makes no sense to Cherish. Of course it doesn’t, because she didn’t ask me a question, much less say anything about a visit. I couldn’t help myself. He’s just so darn appealing.

  Cherish tilts her head slightly. “You're bi-located, aren’t you?” One side of her mouth draws into a curious smile.

  One of the rules in The Angelic Code of Conduct called for honesty, and answering doesn’t undermine my Mission rules. At least I don’t think it does. “Yes.”

  Cherish laughs. “Well, aren’t you a clever little Angel in Training. Did you sleep in?”

  I’m not sure I trust her but I stick with the honesty is the best policy mantra. “Bad hair day. And wrong-way subway.”

  Cherish rubs one finger along her chin. “So your other self is on its way?”

  I nod.

  “Better hope she gets here before Izzy.”

  }{

  “I plan on staying for a while,” I say to the guy on the subway.

  “Really?”

  My gut is telling me to be careful, to mind The Rules and not give away my Angelic status, but my head tells me to stop being silly, and relax. He’s a nice guy. We chit chat for a bit and I learn that he’s only here temporarily. He fills me in on all his favorite spots and mentions the ones I should be sure to hit because the bands are great. Finally, I confide to him, “I’m a back-up singer for Izzy.” I stand as the train pulls into my station.

  “Never heard of him,” he says, though I swear I hear him mumble, but I will. Before I can ask another question, I’m swept along in the wave of people exiting the train.

  I dash up the steps, get my bearings and run toward the theater, my bag banging against my thigh. Breezing through the front door, I crash into Izzy, who’s huddled with Cherish.

  She gets that curious grin again. “Hi, Hope.”

  I’ve got high hopes, all right. Hopes that I don’t get caught.

  “Her name is Grace, Darlin.’ I hope she’s ready to sing. Gracefully.” He laughs at his own lameness.

  “No, Iz, Grace is already in the dressing room. This is her twin sister.” Cherish places her hand on Izzy’s arm in a way that’s very intimate.

  I’m grateful for the cover.

  My other self shows up, already aware of the Sodom-slash-Gomorrah situation my Mission has become. She’s ready to take charge. I just hope Michael doesn’t turn us into a pillar of salt.

  “Hi,” I wave weakly at Cherish, Izzy and myself. Grace number Two waves back.

  Izzy runs both hands through his hair. It stays sticking straight up. Good to know I’m not the only one with wayward hair. “Wow. You two are crazy identical.” He looks from me to me and back again. “I can usually tell the difference.” He pause, and smiles. “You know what would be amazing? To have both of you as back-up singers. I bet the harmony would be incredible.”

  Just then, because the situation wasn’t already bad enough, Victor walks up. He takes one look at both versions of me, raising an eyebrow at the original, stroking his chin at the copy. Naturally, he smirks at both of us.

  “Vic, would’ya look at ‘em? Beautiful, huh?”

  “I’ll say,” he replies, still smirking.

  I need to get control, but my other self speaks first. “Um, actually, Hope doesn’t sing. She’s more athletic.”

  As if to prove my own point, I make a muscle and point to my bicep.

  Dorky much?

  Victor laughs at Hope. Or me.

  Or both.

  “That’s too bad.” Izzy shrugs. “Ah, well, everything for a reason.”

  My head snaps around to look at him, because that kind of strong faith could make my job easier.

  Cherish lays her hand on Izzy’s shoulder, but her eyes never leave Victor’s. “I gather you two have already met.” She nods in my other self’s direction.

  Izzy answers before Victor has a chance. “We took her to The Burger Joint, luv. After the audition.”

  “Well. It’s so nice that everyone has hit it off so quickly,” she says, ushering Izzy away.

  Friendly words. Except her tone is as bitter cold as this morning’s weather.

  }{

  I follow myself to the dressing room, Victor tagging along, probably to harass me. Once the door is closed and I have some privacy, I re-combine and immediately my cell phone rings. Victor picks it up from the vanity. “Who’s Mr. Big Wings?” he asks
.

  Isn’t it obvious? “Michael.” I snatch the phone from his hands and stare at the screen. Voice mail would be best, I think. And Victor seems to agree.

  “You’re not going to answer that? Are you?”

  I put my hands on my hips. “There’s no time. I have to rehearse.” This isn’t precisely true. I could freeze time and not keep Izzy waiting, but sometimes a split-second decision to rationalize is the only way to go.

  Somehow, the rehearsal is decent. I manage to forget about Michael’s call and get lost in the music. Weird. Even though I don’t like singing in Gabriel’s choir, this is different, because…well, I’m not really sure why. Maybe I like the songs better.

  Cherish sits next to Izzy, giving herself a manicure, and the only time she seems aware what’s going on is when Izzy gets into a disagreement with Roger. She and Stevie, the guy with the ponytail, settle things down quickly, and Roger disappears.

  We wrap up after three hours, and as I’m leaving the theater, Izzy says to us, “Why don’t you use Roger’s driver to get home? We have to meet, so he won’t need the car for a bit.”

  Cherish slips into the limo, but Victor says, “Grace and I are both headed up town, and Cherish is going the other way. We’ll walk, and I’ll show her some of the city.”

  “Gotcha,” Izzy says, leaning in to give the driver instructions and closing the door for Cherish, who, by the way, does not look happy. The limo pulls into traffic, and Izzy says, hands on hips. “I don’t get it. How can you afford the real estate up there on what I pay you?”

  Victor shrugs. “I don’t know about Grace, but I was lucky enough to inherit my apartment.”

  “I’m staying with a friend,” I say. Which is a surprisingly good answer, because it’s honest and believable, and most especially quick thinking.

  “Have fun,” Izzy winks at Victor, who drapes his arm over my shoulder.

  “We will,” Victor replies, and it makes me wonder if sightseeing is all he has planned. My heart races and I wipe my palms along the sides of my legs. Alone time with victor always makes me a combination of eager and anxious.

  He and I walk north for a couple blocks without speaking. “Are you okay?” Victor asks. “You’re not usually so quiet.”

  “I’m taking it all in and—” with a sweep of my arm I say, “—there’s a lot to take.”

  “There is. My second Mission was ancient Egypt, about twenty-five hundred BC, give or take fifty years. They were building the Great Pyramid and that was intimidating, but not nearly as busy as this.” He lets me sightsee for the next couple of blocks before asking, “Since when is Aisha your friend?” There’s a smile in his voice, like he’s teasing.

  “Since the last Mission. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but I never could figure out why the two of you finally started getting along. One minute she made you crazy and then the next thing I knew it seemed like you were friends.”

  “It was when we went to Michael’s to buy float supplies. She—” I stop myself, because it was during that errand that Aisha showed me a memory of Victor and Cherish. Up until that point, I’d always thought that Aisha and Victor had a past. And they did. But rather than some Aisha-Victor attraction, the past involved feeling protective of her roomie-sister, kinda like how I’d feel if someone hurt Mercy.

  “She told you about Cherish,” Victor finishes my sentence.

  How did he know that? I stay silent to avoid betraying Aisha.

  “It figures,” is all he says. “She never lets me forget it, even though I paid my dues. Faced quite a bit of payback.”

  “Dues?”

  “I was stuck as a child Guardian for, oh…something like two hundred Missions. Not particularly easy or fun or well-suited to my talents.”

  How strange! I’d asked Aisha if she ever had to serve as a child. It never occurred to me that Victor would’ve.

  “I thought the Big Guy was forgiving. Two hundred Missions is practically forever,” I say, remembering how he let me have my books and robes when I goofed big time before school started.

  “He is. That’s why I wasn’t a child-Guardian for all eternity.”

  Oh! ‘Practically’ being the key word there. I guess his mistake was a lot bigger than mine. Still, this Mission seems strange. I haven’t figured out who Victor is guarding. Or Cherish either, for that matter.

  As we reach Times Square it’s a cacophony. Chaos and horns honking and lighted advertisements two or three stories high. It’s hectic, scary and thrilling and oh-so human all at once. This has to rank as one of the top ten things that I love about Earth.

  “It’s something, isn’t it?” Victor asks.

  “It’s awesome.” I feel like spinning around to take it all in.

  Victor stops and faces me, resting his hands on my shoulders. “I’m glad I got to see it with you. And very glad that our Missions overlap.”

  My heart twinges like a plucked guitar string. I take a deep breath. Stay cool. “I’ve been curious about that. Don’t you think it’s strange that we ended up on a Mission together? And that Cherish is here, too? That so many related people needed Guardians? Do you and Cherish get thrown together all the time?” I don’t take a breath between questions. I’ve probably asked too much.

  Victor strokes his lip. “I requested you as Izzy’s Guardian, but you should know this is the first time since Cherish became a Muse that our Assignments have overlapped.” With that revelation, we start walking again.

  Duh! I smack my forehead in my mind. I’d completely forgotten that Aisha told me Cherish had asked for re-assignment as a Muse so that could avoid Victor. So, she’s Izzy’s Muse, huh? And here I’d been trying to figure out who she was protecting. I steal a glance at Victor. “Will you tell me why she became a Muse?”

  Victor watches me from the corner of his eye. “Aisha didn’t tell you?”

  “No, she did, but I wanted to hear your version.”

  Victor takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, like he’s trying to figure out where to begin. I stuff my hands into the pockets of my coat, and Victor reaches out and puts his hand into the pocket, entwining his fingers with mine, as he speaks. It’s warm and comforting and solid. “We were trainees together, and the attraction was…undeniable. After we got our wings, we kept ending up on Missions that overlapped. I don’t know, but sometimes I think if we’d had a break from each other, everything would’ve turned out differently.”

  “Did you ask to have her on the same Missions as you?” I ask, thinking of what he just told me about requesting me to be Izzy’s Guardian.

  Victor’s eyes open wide. “No. It just happened again and again and again. Maybe it was a test. If so, we both failed.”

  We walk another block in silence. I don’t think I’m getting the whole story—his story—but I don’t know which questions to ask.

  “Anyway,” he starts again, “I went and spoke with Michael. He said he’d take care of it with Destiny Goodewind and that we would be placed ‘on opposite ends of the Earth.’ I told Cherish about the conversation, and she got angry. Really, really angry.”

  “Why?”

  “She hated that I did everything without talking to her first. She thought we should have gone to Michael together for a solution. She said I was trying to control her, but that wasn’t it at all. I’ve always hurried to get things accomplished; it’s one of my biggest flaws.”

  Yeah, I get that. Me too.

  “So, when she was still angry with me, she asked to be a Muse. I told her that didn’t take care of anything, that we could still bi-locate and be together, and that she was meant to be a Guardian. In the end, it didn’t matter because Michael and Destiny stayed true to their word. This is the first time there’s been an overlap of our Missions.” “So you never saw her after that?”

  “I never knew where she was working. At first, I tried try to get information from Aisha, but you can imagine how that went. She would never tell. Then, over the years, I heard rumors every so of
ten. Once in a while, I’d hear a song or see a painting and feel like she inspired it.” He shrugs. “Finally, I gave up.”

  But for me, that is definitely not it. We skirt along the outside of Central Park. The nature of it slows our pace. “But what about now? You’re seeing her every day.”

  “It was a long time ago,” Victor says as we turn onto 57th just in front of Central Park. I gasp. There’s a tall, broad-shouldered figure in a long wool coat walking rapidly toward us. Michael? What’s he doing here? We stop walking; Victor lets go of my hand.

  “Victor. Grace.” Michael nods and stares at the spot where our hands were clasped just moments before. “I trust the Missions are going well.”

  “Yes, sir,” Victor answers with confidence.

  “I think so,” I say to the figure towering over me.

  “Good. Are you studying, Grace?”

  I know he knows the answer to this. I’ve done better than my last Mission, but my schedule with Izzy makes it tough. Still, he doesn’t like excuses. “I’ll be catching up this afternoon,” I say.

  “You’ll have a chance to work ahead, Grace. I suggest you take advantage of it and avoid distractions.” Michael looks at Victor when he says distractions. Before I can figure out what he means, an arctic blast of wind comes out of nowhere. Michael raises the collar on his wool coat. “You’d both better get going. The weather’s changing and I’m off to battle it.”

  I shiver when he says this, unsure if it’s the chilly wind or his tone. He walks away without goodbyes or handshakes or hugs.

  Victor arches an eyebrow. “I wonder what brought him to Earth? It’s pretty unusual to see him on a Mission.”

  With my limited experience, I can’t even begin to guess, but I feel like I need to get back to Aisha’s apartment. The temperature feels like it’s dropped ten or twenty degrees since we ran into Michael. A few minutes later we’re there. I step into an arched alcove, out of the frosty wind, followed by Victor.