The Unveiling

Chapter Ten

By the time we made it back to base camp, Chase’s knee was twitching  no doubt he was as stressed about being out with me. Even though he was a Fae Prince, there was still the chance of political fallout. Internally, I wondered if I hadn’t made my situation worse. I thought that I would feel better after seeing Shay, but in the afternoon sunlight, I felt worse - much worse. 

He left me at the front door of our house, with a nod. It looked like I was set to face laundry duty and the ever charming Laurel by myself. I changed out my clothes for something more comfortable. I somehow needed to distance myself with the meeting I had just had with Shay. The look of hope he portrayed when he realised I was the angel that everyone was talking about had me scrubbing myself down in the shower, wanting to claw out my own skin. As if somehow that meeting confirmed that I didn’t fit. I didn’t belong. I knew I wasn’t less. I knew I wasn’t unworthy. But, the more time I sat with this, the more I knew that I didn’t actually belong here. 

And honestly, what hope could I provide these people? I wondered as I scrubbed my scalp, lathering it with copious amounts of foam. I mean, I couldn’t even save my own mother or provide her with hope - and I lived with her for Source’s sake. 

As I applied on a thick layer of makeup, and outlined my eyes in a dark cat-eyed formation with a flick of my wrist, I decided then and there that if the opportunity came for me to somehow make things better, I would, but not at the expense of giving people false hope. 

I walked towards the grey building dressed in jeans, converse and a large oversized maroon knitted jersey. 

Laurel was already there, squatting down in front of one of the machines, loading in some laundry. 

“Hi,” I spoke to her back as I stepped in the room. 

“You’re late,” was all she replied. 

Off to a great start then. 

I sat on my haunches beside her and started bundling a different basket of laundry into the machine next to hers. 

We worked in silence for a long time, and while it wasn’t companionable, it wasn’t awful either. Rather the tension and uncomfortable nature of Laurel was ignorable. 

As we worked on the last basket, we both reached into grab the remaining item of clothing.My hand brushed hers and she jerked up, startled at contact. Pulling her hand away, she snarled. And that’s when I saw it. Her right eye was puffy and swollen and purple in colour. As I looked I realised that she had been crying, because both her eyes were bloodshot. 

“Laurel, are you okay?” 

“Don’t ask me that!” she growled. “You have no right asking me that when you don’t even know how things work around here, or what’s expected of you.”

She ripped the item of clothing out of my hands and threw it into the dryer. 

“Don’t you dare look at me like that!” she spoke, louder this time, “I don’t need your pity, and I certainly don’t need the sympathy of the angel that will waltz out of here just as quickly as she waltzed in.” 

I sat there stunned. 

“Laurel,” I spoke softly, trying to calm her, in the same way you would try and soothe a broken animal. 

“Don’t” she snarled, teeth clashing. 

“Fine,” I shrugged. 

We worked once more in silence, only this time the tension could not be ignored. 

I remembered one of my mother’s old boyfriends sitting at the breakfast table, waxing lyrically on the importance of salesmen in ‘this day and age’. Although one of his lines had stuck with me, even after all these years. “God helps those who help themselves Reya,” he would tell me with a quick pat on the head. And I supposed that while our world was entirely different, the sentiment remained the same. 

But I still believed that some people may be in such darkness, consumed by such despair, that they themselves wouldn’t know how to help themselves. And when someone shone a torch into their darkness, they might even turn away because the brightness may simply be too much for their eyes after spending all that time in the dark. Does that mean that they didn’t want help? No. It simply meant that you needed to give their eyes time to adjust. 

So, while Laurel was quite possibly my least favourite person here, I simply said, “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it,” before leaving the laundry room encompassed in rage, grief and sorrow. 

Chase still wasn’t back by the time I returned and I wondered how badly the meeting with Mayor Winters could have possibly gone. 

I sat at the small table, eating a quick microwavable meal, as I pondered the events of today. Shay didn’t reject me, but he also placed a weight on my shoulders I hadn’t been expecting, and was neither prepared for. How naive had I been to think that me being part Angel wouldn’t impact anything? Did I honestly believe that I would simply be able to move back into our loft apartment that was falling to pieces? That I would once more be able to stare at the night sky and ponder all the universal questions that a philosopher's mind wanders over? I felt the cold metal fork bend beneath my fingers as I gripped it slightly too hard, reminding me that I wasn’t all Angel - I was also half shifter. But what animal was my shifter blood? The rage that ran through my veins spoke of vengeance, rage and justice, and I knew intrinsically, that those traits were not wholly shifter either, although a beast certainly rumbled beneath my skin. 

I shut the blinds, refusing to look at the sky, the night too imposing, as if it saw me for who I really was, and didn’t look away. 

For once I actually made it to my bed, each night was colder than the last as the autumn air stood as the usher for winter. 

It didn’t take long for the dreams to arrive. 

A round wooden table stood in the centre large circular room with the constellation engraved on the floor, the night sky looked in, highlighting the lack of a roof or ceiling. It should have felt odd, but instead it felt as if this is how all rooms were supposed to be - ceilingless. The universal night sky and the formal room somehow blended seamlessly. 

Around the table sat three creatures. They were striking in their appearance - and all male. Although human-like in appearance, their large wings, jutting out from each of their shoulder blades made it clear that they were anything but human. Their beauty was the type that was mesmerizing. 

“I won’t do it!” the dark haired man slammed his hand onto the table. 

“Be reasonable Gabriel,” the blonde man spoke, “we can’t simply renege on the agreement.”

“The agreement isn’t honourable in itself,” Gabriel argued. 

“What is it that you propose we do?” The bronzed man asked - the question directed towards the blonde man. 

“We don’t renege,” he answered confidently, “we simply only hand over one sample.” 

“One?” Gabriel asked. 

“Yes, one sample,” the blonde man answered. 

“Michael, don’t you think that will enrage the others further? The Fae have contributed fifty thousand samples, and your solution to this mess is one sample. They would see it as the insult that it is.” Gabriel spoke. 

Michael smiled, his blonde hair slipping into his face, “But we won’t be reneging on the agreement.”

“That’s true,” the bronzed man spoke. 

“And what of this one?” Gabriel asked, warming to the idea. 

“We judge it when the time comes. It may be in our interest to have at least someone with our bloodline in this world, if only so we can keep an eye on things and play our part.” Michael clasped his hands together in thought. 

“We don’t leave our own out in the cold,” the bronzed man abonished. 

“Oh Please Seraphim, we hold our own as individuals in battle, I’m sure that whoever emerges from this sample we send can hold their own in this realm,” Gabriel argued. 

“Perhaps,” Seraphim - the bronzed male - said, “but we will also have to see what this world becomes and how this experiment plays out.” 

Michael stilled, “Do you think that there’s a chance for real peace?” 

“For a time,” Seraphim c****d his head to the side and continued, “but I fear that when the veil is lifted and these new beings realise that they have ties to other realms, it will simply create a different sort of divide.” 

Gabriel nodded, pushing forward, “So it’s agreed then? One sample?” 

Seraphim nodded, “One spark, maybe it will set their whole world ablaze.” 

I woke, the sheets wrapped around my legs as I fought them for freedom. 

Chase stood in my doorway, “Are you okay?” he asked. 

He looked half asleep himself, and as I took him in I realised that he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His hair was mussed from sleep, his pyjama pants rode low, outlying the sharp vee that disappeared beneath the band of his pants.

I sat up, clutching the blankets to me. 

“We’re a f*****g experiment to the other realms?” I hissed. 

His eyes flickered in surprise, “The angels told you?” he asked, moving forwards into my room. 

I sat up, pulling my knees towards my chest. 

“I don’t know,” I spoke softly. 

Did they want me to know? Is that what that was? A message? 

“Wel, what did they show you?” Chase asked, seating himself at the edge of my bed. 

“Is it true?” I asked, my voice horse, “are we simply an experiment of peace between the realms?” 

He swallowed audibly. 

“Yes,” he spoke clearly, with a note of sorrow in his voice. 

I shut my eyes, engulfed by a wave of sadness. 

“We had such high hopes,” he spoke softly, “this realm was supposed to encompass the best of all of us.” 

My eyes sprang open. 

“What went wrong?” I asked. 

He shrugged, “I suppose you can’t eliminate our core nature, or characteristics belonging to each race that came through as traits. Those differences were still glaringly apparent, and I guess differences are still differences I suppose.” 

I watched his breathing shift, and suddenly realised that he was far older than he appeared. 

“Were you there when the agreement was made?” 

He scoffed, “No,” he said as he shook his head. “My grandfather was part of the council in my realm that made the agreement.” 

“How old are you?” I asked, almost afraid. 

He glanced up at me, his silver eyes almost hesitant. “Eight Hundred and Two.” 

Definitely much older than I thought. 

“How long have you known about the agreement?” 

“My whole life.”

“So it’s just us then?” I demanded, “It’s just us who don’t know that our whole world is an experiment?” 

He sat silently, watching me. 

“Does the President know?”

“Yes.” 

“Miss Winters?”

“Yes.” 

“I see. So it’s just the citizens who don’t know.” 

“We didn’t make those rules Reya, your world shaped itself and has governed itself since day one.”

It was my turn to sit in silence. 

“What was the message?” he asked softly.

I sat still for a little while longer before I answered, “I’m the only one.” 

“That doesn’t make sense,” he gritted, “Even if they only sent in one sample, over the years it should have multiplied through generations.” 

I shut my eyes, reliving my dream and the additional images that Seraphim had shown me. Micheal handing over the sample, and demanding that they - like all the other races - be in charge of releasing their own sample. The races were angry. They felt tricked and argued that the Angels were acting in bad faith and playing the superiority card, Michael in turn argued that they were still adhering to the agreement. 

And yet, when all the other races release their samples within the veil of this world, the angels held back and simply watched. 

Years passed, and I was privy to the cycle of the sun setting and the moon rising millenia over. And finally, they released the sample. As the world sat on the brink of exposure, they released the sample, waiting to boast a defining moment within the unveiling. It was all a game of strategy to them, and I was unsure if I was set to be their champion or pawn. 

“Was there a timeframe on when they needed to release their sample?” I asked carefully. 

Chase swore in understanding.