Grounded! More Confessions of an Angel in Training (9781310362958) Page 9

  It makes no sense. None whatsoever. I fluff my hair, and swipe on more lip gloss. This seems to be some kind of sign, so I’ll just pay attention. And introduce him, because I do think that could help with my Mission. One deep breath for courage and composure, then I glide out to Angel-walk Annex over to the sofa. In my absence, Izzy has arrived.

  Roger is with him. He raises his hand in salute then grasps Annex’s hand, shaking it like they’re old buddies. “I see you’ve already met Grace.”

  Already? If Annex knows Roger, why did he ask me to introduce him to Izzy?

  Annex’s face draws into a tiger’s grin that, weirdly, makes me feel special and uncomfortable at the same time. “Yes, we bumped into each other, again,” he says.

  Victor stands, offering his hand and wedging his body between mine and Annex’s. “Victor,” is all he says.

  “Nice to make your acquaintance. How do you figure into all this?” Annex makes a circle motion with his finger, indicating everyone in the group.

  “I’m a bodyguard.”

  “Well, then. I shall have to watch out for you.”

  It seems like they might be talking about more than Izzy. I’ve never really seen Victor act like he’s my Guardian. He’s always encouraged me to take care of myself.

  Confession: I’m not sure I like this side of him.

  I step out from behind Victor’s shoulders. “Izzy, I’d like to introduce you to Annex. He really enjoyed your music, especially the new song.” I give Izzy an intense look, putting extra emphasis on the last part, so that hopefully, Roger picks up on it, and hand him Annex’s business card. When Izzy’s eyes light up, I know my Mission has rocketed forward.

  }{

  In the wee hours of the morning, most of the guests are crashed. It does remind me of Lacey’s float party. Izzy is curled up on the sofa, using Cherish’s lap as his pillow.

  Victor strolls up, gives me one of his lopsided grins, and pulls me close. My heart beats out the rhythm of an Izzy song. “Wanna play Seven Minutes in Heaven?”

  I’ve re-played that scene in my mind over and over and over again. In the re-play, Aisha doesn’t open the door. “There’s no closet,” I tease.

  “I don’t need one if you don’t.”

  “I, uh, don’t think—

  He kisses me, and then I can’t think. When he pulls away, he takes my breath with him.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he sighs.

  Really? I’m not so sure. Last night, my envy of Cherish made me completely focused on every move Victor made. While that kind of obsession is really, really, really unhealthy, I noticed that he didn’t pay as much attention to Cherish as I thought he would and he followed Stevie around more than I’d ever noticed before. I give him a quick peck on the cheek and squeeze his hand. “You’re guarding Stevie, aren’t you?”

  When he says, “I always underestimate you,” I know that I’m right.

  “He’s sick, isn’t he? You’re healing him.”

  Victor bites the inside of his cheek. “He has Parkinson’s. There’s no cure.”

  This stops me in my tracks. “Then why does he have a Guardian?”

  “Because his wife asked for one. She loves him and wants to make sure that he doesn’t have to deal with a lot more than his disease right now.”

  “Like?”

  “Like Annex taking his job before he’s ready to stop working.”

  Wouldn’t you know it? The person most likely to help my Mission succeed is the person most likely to interfere with Victor’s. I seriously don’t know how The Big Guy keeps it all squared away without the everyday conflicts of life bringing this world to a screeching halt. For the first time, I think a pair of scales could actually come in handy.

  Chapter 10

  This is how my day has gone so far.

  I had to wake up way before any self-respecting rooster would crow. Not that they have roosters in NYC, mind you. Then I had to commute to a warehouse in SoHo. Then layers—and I do mean layers—of makeup were applied to my face, arms and hands. Then I was squeezed into a crushingly small dress with heavy, feathered wings attached to my shoulders. Then I was hoisted twenty feet into the air by some kind of strange, pulley contraption. Then I was made to sing “You’re My Angel” over and over and over. Then…

  There are no more thens. This is where I am at the moment, launching into the song for the fifty-seventh thousandth time under hot lights. We’re making Izzy’s video.

  When Izzy first asked me to be in it, I said sure, because as his Guardian I need to make myself available to him all the time. A little later, I caught up with Victor and asked, “What’s a music video?” He explained it all to me, and Aisha had me watch a bunch on YouTube. At that point, the idea seemed exciting.

  Confession: Reality is not the same thing as an idea.

  Roger’s daughter Candace is hoisted up at the other end of the stage. Izzy kept the peace with this compromise. Most of the band is here—Desmond, Adam and Robbie. Plus Cherish. Plus Victor. And oh yeah, Annex. He’s become a regular part of our little entourage, offering up all kinds of great advice to Izzy. I swear he’s kind of interested in me, too. And, he’s pretty good looking. And, apparently heaven sent. If Victor didn’t already have the key to my heart, he’d be a temptation to be reckoned with.

  We’re about to start another take when Roger struts in and tosses a Billboard onto a table that’s pushed up against the floor-to-ceiling window. “Number five with a bullet.”

  Robbie reaches out to grab the magazine and starts paging through it. “Awesome, man.”

  Stevie claps Izzy on the back, and Cherish kisses him. Annex says, “I never had a doubt. This’ll get us that invitation to the UMAs that you’ve been hoping for.”

  I watch all of this from my bird’s eye view up near the rafters.

  Izzy laces his fingers together, resting his hands on top of his head. “I always thought this would happen. Hoped it would, anyway. But it’s gone so fast, it doesn’t feel real.” He pauses to look around at everyone, clearly overwhelmed. “This video is coming together at exactly the right moment. It’s like all of this is happening at the same time, like fate is finally smiling on me.”

  “Well, fate is gonna need to get a move on then, because we only have a couple of hours of light to shoot the graffiti scenes today before there are too many shadows,” one of the videographers says to Izzy.

  “Leave those shots ’til tomorrow,” Izzy suggests with his palms out in supplication. “I know, I know I’ll have to pay you for another day, but I’m number five. With a bullet. I can afford that. Let’s finish with the footage of Grace. I’m sure you’re ready to come down, right, luv?”

  I was ready two hours ago, but according to The Code of Conduct, patience is a virtue worth cultivating, so I just nod.

  The videographer shrugs. “You’re the boss.”

  Izzy laughs. “I am, aren’t I.”

  Annex sidles up to Izzy. “I bet it feels good to say that.” There’s something slimy about his words that makes my stomach roll, because gifts like the ones Izzy is receiving come from The Producer—He giveth and He taketh away. “How badly do you want it?” Annex asks Izzy.

  Victor practically flies across the room to them. He takes Annex’s arm and shoves the sleeve of his sweatshirt up to his elbow, twisting his arm to look at the tattoo on the back of Annex’s wrist. “Locust,” Victor spits as the director says, “Action.”

  What just happened?

  “Peddle your feet, dear. Faster,” the director says.

  Locust? I move my feet to look as though I’m riding an invisible bike. Annex has moved across the room from Victor.

  “Now flap your arms. Slower, slower.”

  I want to tell him that real Angels flap their wings, not their arms. Sheesh. I’m still trying to figure out Victor’s comment. I thought the tattoo was a grasshopper. Do locusts have wings?

  “Okay. Peddle again.”

  Singing. Peddling.
Flapping. If I wasn’t a Celestial Being, I’d probably pass out from exhaustion. I’m trying to focus on the director’s instructions, because this video is one more thing to make Izzy famous, but I keep coming back to the exchange between Victor and Annex. I’m in the middle of a furious peddle—both speed-wise and emotion-wise—and look down to see what’s happening. Annex is staring at me, his lips moving silently.

  Locust?

  The cable that holds up my right side snaps. I hang by the other, off-kilter, canted to the right. Victor’s eyes open wide. And then I’m falling.

  I need to Time Bend. Now.

  Thump. Crack.

  Too late.

  }{

  I wake up to a mechanical beep, beep, boop sound in a dark room. There’s a tube attached to my left hand that flops into my face as I touch my forehead. My other arm feels heavy. I can barely lift it off the bed. A familiar silhouette hovers nearby. “Victor?” I croak.

  “How’s your head?” He lays a hand on my forehead.

  “It’s fine,” I say, trying to be brave. Victor narrows his eyes at me. “Okay, it hurts a little.”

  “You whacked it pretty good. And your arm’s broken.”

  I look at my right arm and see why it felt so heavy. In the dim light I can make out the white cast that stops just past my elbow.

  “I alerted Michael as soon as you fell. He’s going to re-ascend you as soon as you’re released.”

  What? “Why would you do that?”

  “They’re waiting for the results of the x-ray on your skull,” he says, dodging my question.

  “Why did you tell Michael?”

  “You gave everyone a scare.”

  I flip on my halo so I can see his face. “Why aren’t you answering my question?”

  “It scared me, Grace.” His eyes are soft. “You can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous.”

  That makes no sense. “I feel fine and, in case you’ve forgotten, I have a Mission. I can’t go back to Heaven now. Not before I complete it.” I sit up quickly to make my point about being fine and feel woozy.

  “Guardians have Heavenly protection. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  My heads still feels funny, so I’m hazy on exactly what he’s saying. “It was an accident,” I say, no longer one hundred percent sure.

  “If I find out Annex had something to do with it, I’ll be first in line with a flaming sword for his wing amputation.”

  Annex is an Angel? Why didn’t he tell me that? Is he a Guardian? Who’s his Assignment? It can’t be Izzy. He’s my Mission. This seems completely ridiculous. Maybe that bump really did do something to my head. Maybe I’m dreaming. “Victor, am I awake? Are you really here?”

  That makes him laugh. He pats himself all over then perches on the edge of my bed. “I think so, but let’s make sure.” He leans in and kisses me. Okay, so if this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up yet. His hands cup my face and he kisses me again, immersed. When he breaks away, he says, “Does that usually happen when you’re sleeping?”

  I keep my eyes closed. “I’m not sure. Maybe we should do it again.”

  But before he can draw near, the door opens. I quickly shut my halo, hoping no one noticed the glowing orb. The figure in the doorway flips on the room light. It’s Aisha and—oh, great—she brought Cherish with her.

  “I came as soon as Cherish told me.” Aisha crosses the room with all haste, her poof of hair bouncing. “Have you contacted Michael yet?” she asks Victor.

  It seems like calling Mr. Bossy Wings in this situation is protocol.

  “She’ll go back as soon as she’s released,” he tells Aisha.

  “Thanks for handling that.” Aisha hauls a chair from the far side of the room over to my bed, plops into it and smiles at me.

  It’s so frustrating. They haven’t asked what I want to do, and I want to stay.

  Victor stands, a sad expression in his eyes. “I need to get back. Don’t worry, Grace. I’ll keep an eye on Izzy until things get sorted out and he’s under protection again.” He turns and leaves.

  Confession: One more kiss would’ve been nice.

  Cherish settles into the other chair, while Aisha takes my hand and pats it. “They’ll release you soon, and we’ll get you back home, safe and sound.”

  Even though I’ve never heard of, or seen an injured Angel, I’m not really worried about me, I should be freaking out, but deep down I know I’m going to be okay. I’m not sure how I know that, but I do. What I’m actually worried about is everything that’s happening with Izzy. “Can’t I stay and hang out?” That way I’ll be up to speed after I’m mended.

  “You know,” Cherish says more to Aisha than me, “sometimes I think The Good Guy made a mistake with the Free Will Rule. Wouldn't the world be a better place if He made sure it was a mirror of Heaven? We wouldn’t have all this drama and pain.” She looks at my cast as she says the word pain.

  “What! No, it would not be better. Then humans would be no more than slaves, or like back-up singers supporting His performance.”

  “Well, that’s what we are. Back-up singers. Just ask Grace.”

  “You know we still have free will, but we're supposed to do His…just like humans.”

  “Remember the Rebellion?”

  It’s like I’m eavesdropping on their conversation. I can tell from the way they talk with each other that they’ve been friends a long time. I can also tell from their tone that the tension between them right now is as taut as one of Izzy’s guitar strings.

  “That was so long ago. Why would you bring that up?”

  “I don’t know, Ish. Maybe because it made things such a huge mess. Maybe if I’d stayed a Guardian I’d see it like you. Working as a Muse, I have to be inspiring, but I’m rarely inspired.”

  “That was your free will. You chose to switch. Don’t blame that on Victor or anyone else.”

  Cherish’s face turns red. “I did it for love.”

  I haven’t made a peep, but one quiet word slips out. “Love?”

  “Yes. Love isn’t rainbows and unicorns and cupcakes with sprinkles. It isn’t smiley faces on your school work for L’Academie.” She locks her arms in front of her chest.

  I don’t know about that. They all sound like love to me. Especially cupcakes with sprinkles.

  “Real love hurts. Real love means you might have to say or do something that you’d rather avoid. But you do it anyway, because you must. That’s what it means to be a Guardian. Believe me—you won’t earn your wings until you love like that.” Her mouth twists, and I can’t tell if she’s angry or about to cry. Maybe both.

  “That’s enough, Cherish. Grace has had a difficult day.”

  I’m emboldened by Aisha sticking up for me. I didn’t ask Cherish a real question; the word snuck out. And then I get this reply that’s more of an attack? She’s not very pleasant.

  Truly. What did Victor ever see in her?

  “I believe the Angelic Code of Conduct calls for us all to be kind.”

  “Nice and kind are not always the same thing. Is Michael always kind?”

  Well, he is, but he can be a real hard-ass too, and I guess I sort of get what she’s saying. I nod, but not very convincingly.

  “Just remember that temptation usually sounds nice.”

  With that she sweeps out of the room, and I give Aisha a what-did-I-say? look.

  Aisha shakes her head. “Don’t worry. Everything is okay, or at least it will be. It’s been hard for her recently, seeing Victor again. I think it’s opened up some old wounds, but you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  Well, I guess that’s a relief, but I’m more confused than ever about kindness and envy and Izzy and the answer for him and my feelings for Victor and this Mission and what it will mean to go back to Heaven. And when will I get my wings? Because Cherish made it sound like they aren’t right around the corner.

  “I’m not sure I believe in The Free Will rule either,” I say.

  “What? Grace you know
better.”

  “Do I? Nobody’s giving me the choice to stay here, are they?”

  Aisha’s eyes soften and she reaches into her coat pocket, holding the vial of holy water in her outstretched palm.

  I want to take it; I really do. But the infinite wisdom of our CEO wants me back in Heaven. I shake my head, and say, “I know somebody who needs it more than me.”

  Chapter 11

  Right after I’m released from Mount Sinai—the hospital, I’m hardly Moses—I land in Michael’s office. He’s working behind his desk, totally unruffled to see me pop into his life. He takes his time finishing an A-Mail he’s composing and then takes off his glasses. “Sorry to bring you back, Grace, but we’ve already made an exception to let you school in this unconventional way. I can’t allow you to ‘hang out’ there. Especially with the unanticipated danger associated with this Mission.”

  It hurts to have my words parroted back in a way that makes me sound silly. “I understand. Will I be allowed to go back?”

  “Not for this Mission, I’m afraid. After you’re healed, if you’re still needed, we can see if there’s another Assignment that makes sense. For the time being you’re grounded.”

  Grounded! In more ways than one. Thrown to the floor and broken. Now stuck here, unable to really fly. I’m sure our Head Surgeon could heal me in a snap. Why won’t He?

  Without my help what will happen to Izzy? I bite my lip to hold back tears and nod once.

  “You’ll start back in your classes next week. See you Monday.”

  That’s my cue to leave.

  Confession: I’d rather spend the night with the guy in Grand Central Station than have to face Faith with a re-ascension.

  }{

  “Hail to the Chief! What happened to you?” Faith says when she sees my cast.