Broken Butterflies Read online

  Snow covered the road and house when Ilisha awoke. She peered out the window and sighed.

  Her hand went to her throat, and she winced. Running to the bathroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Ilisha’s neck was purple and green. Trailing her index finger down it lightly, the skin turned white and refilled with color. She hissed, trying to take the pain.

  “Crap, how am I going to explain this?”

  She looked at her cell phone. “It’s Sunday, mom’s at church.” Ilisha grabbed her robe and ran down the stairs to the kitchen.

  Grabbing a dish towel, she unloaded a tray of ice into it. She lay on the couch with the towel on her neck. “Ahh,” she said, jerking as it hit her skin.

  She flipped through the channels settling on a documentary about angels. Most of it she tuned out, but something caught her attention and her ears perked. Listening intently as the man with the deep voice spoke she propped herself up on her elbow. “Most religions have a form of guardian angels. Sometimes they are protectors; other times comforters. They can also be finders of death angels.”

  Supporting the ice, she dashed across the room to her mother’s computer. She bounced her legs and tapped her fingers waiting for the dial-up internet. “My gosh, what century do you live in, woman?”

  Five minutes later Ilisha Googled guardian angels. A plethora of sites popped up. Clicking on a link for Angels in Our Lives, she scrolled down. “A guardian angel is an angel assigned to protect and guide a particular person or group. Belief in guardian angels can be traced throughout all antiquity. Direct interaction with humans is not allowed. Those that develop relationships with their assignments are considered fallen. Immortality is lost, but their gifts and powers remain strong. Guardian angels can look like any other person. You could encounter them at any time and have no indication.”

  Ilisha’s mouth fell open. “No, way.” she said, staring at the screen.

  She threw the towel and ice in the kitchen sink and ran for the stairs. Throwing on the first thing she found, and getting some makeup on, she heard her mother come in.

  “Crap.” Ilisha sifted through the clothes she bought and found a shirt with a high neck and changed.

  She looked at herself in the mirror to make sure her neck was hidden.

  When she walked in the kitchen Dena was rummaging through the fridge.

  “Hey, how was church?”

  “It was a good service.”

  Ilisha hurried and hid the ice pack.

  “Want some lunch?” Dena asked cheerfully.

  “Sure.”

  She felt impatient and wanted nothing more than to find Bram and question him. Dena whipped up some tuna sandwiches and they played cards for a while.

  “I think I’m gonna take a nap,” Dena said yawning.

  She sat on the couch and wondered how she would even find Bram. Frustrated she picked up a magazine and read. Her mom never came back downstairs and she let her sleep. It was rare that Dena actually slept.

  Ilisha felt bored and as soon as it was dark she changed for bed, which was unusual for her. Going to sleep at nine o’clock made her feel old.

  Large drops of rain began to pound the roof and echoed through the wood floored house. She pulled the curtains back to get a look. Bram stood across the road looking up at her window. Wasting no time, she ran out the front door. “Why are you standing outside my room in the middle of a rain storm?” she yelled over the drops, steam leaving her mouth.

  His black hair flattened in the rain and dripped down his face. “Just keeping watch.”

  “You’re going to get sick, come with me.” Ilisha lead him through the cellar door and flipped on the light.

  The black and white checkered floor stretched the length of the basement and remnants of brown and orange 70’s era furniture lined the walls. Bram looked around uneasy.

  “Give me your clothes,” Ilisha said, tossing him a large towel.

  He hesitated for a moment, but unbuttoned his shirt. A lump formed in Ilisha’s throat. Holy shit, he’s ripped. With some effort, she looked away. He sat down and pulled his boots off. When his hands hit the button on his jeans, she turned her back. His clothes landed in a pile in front of her. She gathered them and tossed them in the dryer, then turned to face him. The towel was secure around him, just below his belly button. Her eyes looked to the side of him, forcing herself not to stare.

  “You can sit,” she said. “Why are you watching me?”

  “Protection,” Bram said making himself comfortable next to her on the couch.

  She forced herself to look into his blue eyes. “Why did you save me on the train?”

  “I wasn’t ready to let you go.”

  “You say that like you have known me for a long time.”

  He didn’t respond to that so she moved on. “Are you an angel?”

  “Yes, but it’s complicated. You figured that out huh?” His hand gently moved the collar of her shirt. He leaned forward and Ilisha closed her eyes opening her mouth. A slight tingle ran through her neck as his lips brushed along the bruise. As he continued the tingle grew to a current. “Better?” he asked, breaking her trance.

  Her eyes blinked open. You’re beautiful, she thought as she stared. She ran her hand down her neck. The pain of the bruise could no longer be felt. “How?” she asked.

  “I masked it, nothing more.”

  They sat in silence for a while.

  “I really need some answers from you,” she finally said.

  “I promise you will get them, but not tonight. There is too much going on. I should get going.” Bram walked to the dryer and pulled his still wet clothes out. Ilisha watched as he slipped his underwear and pants on under the towel. His biceps curling as he pulled them up. Her eyes didn’t blink until the last button on his shirt fastened.

  He slipped his boots on saying, “Sorry I have to leave.”

  “I wish you didn’t.”

  “I’ll be close.” He smiled reassuringly before walking out the door.

  Ilisha ran upstairs and flipped on her bathroom light. Her hand pawed at her healed neck. She touched the spot his lips had been and felt a chill.

  Dashing for the window, she watched as he walked down the street, his clothes already drenched again.

  Ilisha woke to the sounds of loud sirens outside. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she opened the window and stuck her head out. Some people were in bathrobes and pajamas. Grey haired ladies with rollers clambered toward the park while others gathered in groups talking.

  “What the fetch?” Ilisha shoved the window down and ran to the bathroom. She fixed herself up a bit and bushed her teeth.

  Pulling on sweats, she trotted down the stairs and grabbed a pair of Dena’s boots sitting by the door and ventured out in the cold. Tapping the first person she came to on the shoulder, she asked, “Excuse me, what’s going on?”

  The young man turned toward her, his long, greasy hair whipping around. “Dude, someone took out the park.” His friends laughed hysterically.

  The crowd became tighter as she walked toward the park. Elbowing her way through and tripping over feet, she emerged at the front. “What the hell?” she said, tripping over a thick wire thatused to be a fence.

  Not a single blade of winter-dead grass was left on the ground. The swing sets were a tangled heap of metal, curving on one another like a pretzel. Shards of the merry-go-round platform were lodged in the snack shack a few feet away. Animals that sat on coiled springs in the kids play area were beheaded. The slide was across the street, snuggly sliced through a garage roof. Across the park by the baseball diamond, a fire crew sprayed at flames leaping from the dugouts.

  Placing her palm on a wood parking post, she climbed over a pile of debris. Dusting her hand was iridescent powder that made her skin feel like velvet. She held her palm out and ran her index finger through the shiny dust. Some of it was pure white while other parts were pitch black. Neither would join the other. When she forced the particles, the
y dashed across her hand like a breeze caught them. Like polar opposites. Maybe I shouldn’t be touching this. She wiped her hand on her pants and the particles danced away from each other.

  She walked past the mayor, who looked like he threw on the first thing available. He stood amongst the town in a flannel shirt, trucker hat, and sweats. His socks under his sandals made her chuckle.

  “It looks like a tornado came through town. Someone better give me some explanations.” The mayor demanded.

  The police chief stammered, “Sir, we’re doing all we can. There’s no trace of evidence.”

  “Well, the park didn’t destroy itself. Get on it!” The mayor looked at Ilisha. “And what’s she doing in here?”

  “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the park.” The chief took Ilisha’s arm and escorted her back to the street.

  A giant maple tree, which had been therefore as long as Ilisha could remember, lay in their path. It was shredded and snapped as if it were a tooth pick. “I think I can manage from here,” Ilisha said as she turned to avoid a branch. She turned around once and the chief glared back.

  At her mom’s house, she heard someone in the kitchen. Assuming it was her mother, she opened the swinging door that separated the kitchen from the dining room. Instead of her mother, it was Bram. “What are you doing here?”

  He leaned on the counter like he might fall down if he didn’t have the support. “You need to take those pants off and wash your hands.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked, stepping toward him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the kitchen sink. “Hey,” she protested.

  Ignoring her irritation, he flipped up the handle and let the warm water run. “Wash.”

  “Okay geez, why are you being so pushy?”

  “Take your pants off.”

  “I’ll go upstairs and change.” She pointed with her thumb behind her and went to turn.

  “No time.” Ilisha followed his eyes. Winding up her leg, the black powder converged, and began to wrap around her.

  “What the?” Her sweats tightened around her thigh, getting even tighter as she watched. She could feel the pressure squeezing her muscles.

  Ilisha panicked and grasped at them, but Bram caught her hands. “I’m sorry,” he said as he tore the pants from her. In one clean, swift, tug, she stood in her underwear.

  Bram dug through the cabinets for a pot. Finding the one he wanted, fire appeared in the palm of his hand. Her sweats went up in flames. Smoke detectors in the house rang. Bram stuck his palm to the floor. There was a soft thud under Ilisha’s feet as a shock wave traveled through the house, causing the smoke alarms to disable. Everything in the cabinets rumbled for a second. He slumped to the floor, leaving Ilisha to think he fainted.

  “Oh my gosh, are you okay?” she asked, bending down looking into his eyes.

  “Do me a favor?” he whispered.

  “Okay.”

  “Get rid of that pot before your mother comes home—in two minutes.”

  “You know when my mom will be home?”

  He disappeared right before her eyes without answering. She swiped the air where he sat and found nothing but a cold spot. Ilisha stood there trying to grasp what had happened. Hearing the storm door open she snapped to it. She had just enough time to grab the pot and run up the stairs. She shoved it in her closet and grabbed another pair of sweats. Walking downstairs calm and collected, she met her mom at the bottom. “What happened in the park?” she asked, leaning nonchalantly against the rail.

  “I have no idea, but it’s just terrible. Who would vandalize the park?” Dena said her head scrunched up in irritation.

  “I have a feeling who.” Ilisha muttered under her breath.

  “Do you want breakfast?” Dena called over her shoulder as she walked toward the kitchen.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Ilisha bounded back up the stairs and jumped in the shower. She knew she needed more answers from Bram.

  Wrapping a towel around her, she walked out of her bathroom and jumped, stifling a scream. Bram sat on her bed.

  “Don’t do that again,” she said, putting her hand on her chest.

  Bram took in her appearance. “Maybe this was a bad time.”

  “No. You’re not leaving until I get some answers.”

  As she came toward him, he jumped off her bed and walked to her closet. He tossed the first shirt and pair of pants he found at her.

  “O-kay,” she said, walking back to the bathroom to change.

  When she emerged, she was in a button down plaid shirt and a pair of pajama pants with kittens on them. “Not exactly high fashion,” she said, looking down at the outfit. These clothes had been in the closet since high school.

  “Better,” Bram said.

  “Better than what, a tarp?” she replied, chuckling.

  “Better for me. You needed to talk?” he said, sitting back down.

  “You know my thoughts?”

  “No, not exactly; I can see the future.”

  “That’s how you knew about the train,” she said, sitting beside him.

  “Yes.” He took her chin in his hand. “Will you trust me?”

  That familiar shock of his touch ran down her spine. “Of course.”

  “There are things I can’t tell you. It’s for your protection.”

  “What happened to the park?”

  “A fight broke out.”

  “A fight?” She chuckled. “Um, it looks more like a nuke hit it.”

  “Typical angel-demon fight.”

  “What?”

  “Your stalker,” he waited for her acknowledgment, “is a demon. His name is Damon.” Bram looked away for a second when he said the name, uncomfortable. “He made a move for you last night, and we battled in the park.”

  “Why didn’t any of us hear it? I mean, that kind of destruction comes with a lot of noise.”

  “There was noise. I erased the memories of it.”

  “Okay, that’s creepy.”

  “There would be no way to explain it. People wouldn’t accept knowing there are beings with supernatural power.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I still don’t know how to take all this.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “What about this Damon guy? Why does he want to hurt me?”

  “Hurt you? No, he wants to kill you. I interfered with your destiny on that train, and he has come to collect.”

  “Collect what?”

  “Your soul.”

  Ilisha sat back. “What? A demon wants my soul? I don’t even believe in this crap.”

  Her fingers rested on her forehead. This stuff isn’t real. No way.

  “Well, you should believe. I’m sitting right in front of you.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Nothing. I’ll take care of Damon.”

  “That’s reassuring,” she replied sarcastically.

  “I haven’t let you die yet, have I?” Bram said, smiling that perfect smile.

  “Why did you save me in the first place?”

  “I can’t tell you right now.” He took her hands in his. “I promise I’ll protect you.” He stood up.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked disappointed.

  Before she could protest, he was gone again.

  “Great, some crazy demon is trying to kill me and you disappear.”

  Ilisha dressed in more appropriate attire and went to see Amy. The last time she was stalked by a demon, so she decided to drive this time. As houses went by she found herself looking behind every bush, tree, and corner for Damon. When she pulled up to Amy’s incident free, she breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Hey!” Amy said, throwing open the door.

  “Sorry to come without calling.”

  “What’s new?” Amy chuckled.

  Ilisha tossed her coat on the couch. “More than I can understand.”

  She glanced out the window. Bram leaned against her rental car. “Excuse me for a second.”

&n
bsp; “Who’s that? Wow, he’s yummy,” Amy said as Ilisha opened the door.

  As she walked toward Bram he smiled.

  “I don’t want to alarm you, but Damon has recovered from our brawl. You’re going to see me around a lot.”

  “Look, I don’t want any more evasiveness. When my life’s on the line, you owe me explanations.”

  “I’ll find you later.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, leaving a soft chill where his lips touched.

  “So, who’s that?” Amy asked, looking over Ilisha’s shoulder when she came back in.

  “Bram.”

  “Oh no, honey, you’re giving me more than a name.”

  “I met him on the train, it’s complicated.”

  “He’s certified eye candy.”

  “True,” Ilisha replied, smiling.

  “So, are you dating?”

  “No, nothing like that. I didn’t tell you this, but I was involved in that train crash. Bram saved my life.”

  Amy grabbed her arm. “Why would you keep something like that from me?”

  “I’m fine and I didn’t want a fuss made.”

  “Don’t keep secrets from me like that.” Her voice was stern. “I can tell you like him.”

  “I’ve never met anyone like him. He gorgeous of course, but it’s more than that. I feel like I’ve known him for a long time. That sounds so crazy. I don’t know anything about him.”

  “Maybe you just click with him.”

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  The baby cried upstairs. “Must be lunch time,” Amy said and left to get the baby.

  She walked back down the stairs holding Brooklyn with a blanket and bottle. “Here,” Amy said handing Ilisha a piece of paper as she sat.

  “What’s this?”

  “Cam’s parents live in Japan. His dad is a lifelong marine. My parents are dead. If something happens to us I want you to take Brooklyn.”

  “Amy don’t talk like that.”

  “I’m not saying anything will happen, I just want it official.”

  “You know I love that little girl like my own,” Ilisha said.

  “I know you do” Amy responded.

  Cam’s truck pulled up outside. When he walked in he gave a quick hello to Ilisha and planted a long kiss on Amy.