Mortal Wounds

Chapter Twenty

Invidian's POV

Morning sunlight streams through the window and I awaken to Davian embracing me in his sleep. Gazing at his face, I'm at a loss at what to do. I feel self-conscious of my breath, the idea of him waking up to this making my heartbeat hard against my chest. I wonder if he can hear it beat, feel my nervous twitching when I'm in his warm embrace. I then listen to the rhythm of his heartbeat, slow and steady. I gnaw on my lip, unsure if I should stay or break free.

The warmth in my chest is unfamiliar, and I wonder if this is the feeling Henley meant when she fell for Ethelia. I sit up and he rests his head in my lap, sighing in his sleep. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I grab Virgil's notebook from the side table. It can't be a coincidence he drew angels. I wonder how much he knew. Perhaps he knew about the angelic possessions. Virgil traded places with me, supposedly knowing I would be in contact with angelic beings. There is a reason why he traded places and I believe the reason why is dark.

"Hello, Virgil," I tense when Virgil's father knocks on the door, "Can I come in?"

"Just a moment, I'm changing," I call out, rolling over in Davian's arms. He currently drools onto the pillow, mumbling about mayonnaise on steak. "Wake up."

I slap his face when he doesn't respond. He groans and turns around. I roll my eyes and roll him off the bed. He falls with a yelp, waking up, but he doesn't have enough time to protest when I stuff him under the bed. I rearrange the blankets to hide the gaps underneath the bed and get up, fixing up my clothes.

"Come in."

The door clicks open and Dwaine walks with an odd look.

"Were you talking to yourself? I swear I heard something just now."

"Talking to the voices in my head."

Dwaine rubs his temples in distress.

"It's too early for you to be talking back to me. I came here to tell you I'm going to a meeting with Raguel, Cassiel, Ethelia, Father John, Dr Anson and other officials within this town at the hospital. I want you and Morgana to be up while I'm gone in case anything happens," he explains before arching a brow at the bag of food in my room.

He shakes his head, but the corners of his lips tilt up in amusement. He places a hand on my head.

"I want to remind you no matter what is going on, that I am your father and I will never abandon you. I know what it is like to have a neglectful father. I don't ever want you to feel like that." He picks up a bag of nachos, tsking in disapproval. "It's all full of MSG. I guess I should at least confiscate the nachos."

He takes out a bag of nachos before walking out of the room as if I don't know he is going to pig out on them when no one is looking. When I see Dwaine walking outside through the window, I drag Davian out from under the bed by his feet. The i***t groans in exhaustion and covers his face to block out the sun. I shut the curtains and nudge him with my foot.

"You're the worst bodyguard I've ever had," I grunt.

"Is waking up early to b***h at people a trait in your family?" he grumbles, disoriented with tiredness.

He sits up with a muffled yawn, changing into a new set of clothes.

"We have a narrow time limit. The c*m rags are out at a meeting this morning. Meaning, we can sneak into their stuff," I explain.

"Who?"

"Raguel and Cassiel, obviously."

He climbs to his feet with another yawn.

"Time limits are the bane of my existence," he grumbles under his breath before flinging his arms around me. I tense as his hot breath tickles the back of my neck. "You're letting me help you now?"

"You will follow me anyway," I scoff.

"Yup," he pops the 'p' in the word.

I roll my eyes. I don't think there is getting rid of him anytime soon.

*

Minutes later we cross into the Veil and into Cassiel's manor. Maids and butlers clean up the house, complaining about Cassiel behind his back. It seems he treats them poorly behind everyone's back. They mimic the voice he makes when he yells at them. I would laugh if this house did not remind me of what Henley and I lost, and what they have. This slice of paradise is coming down no matter what. I wave Davian to the base of the staircase, tempted to knock over and burn down everything I see.

"Such a lovely house belonging to such a problematic soul," Davian states as he approaches me.

"The thought of him makes me sick," I affirm, walking up the staircase, "He lives like a king while people suffer beneath his boot. I want him to suffer."

My jaw ticks as I picture Henley's smile when mentioning Ethelia. Such pure happiness died and squandered. Ethelia is marrying the man who concealed how Henley died. I wonder how much or how little she knows. Stabbing someone who loved you is a treacherous type of pain, and this has already evolved into something unforgivable.

"I could sell two paintings on eBay and become a damn millionaire," Davian grumbles as we pass by a group of maids.

We find Raguel's room down the hall next to the study room. The potent scent of gardenias is thick, wafting from the lit scented candles sitting on his study desk. White and blues decorate the queens-sized bed and chest of drawers. I immediately draw to the laptop sitting on his bed. I try to touch it but my hands phase through it. Davian picks it up without an issue.

"It has a password. We'll need to figure out what it is or hack it if we want to see what's in here. Good, it's a Macbook. Its security is s**t," Davian explains, muttering a series of words under his breath.

After a moment, he manages to get into the laptop.

"How'd you learn to do that?"

Ignoring the question, he drags his mouse over the desktop and presses his lips into a thin line.

"There is a hidden file," he mutters to himself. After some typing and a few minutes of clicking random icons, a folder opens up. "Audio files?"

He questions, putting down his documents to pull out an earphone tucked in his pocket. I stare at the ones in his hands.

"Isn't those the earphones from my iPod?" I question, recognizing its rainbow colour.

"I was thinking of trying to restore the iPod in your room. It's an old version so it'll be a pain to find a charger."

He sticks the earphones into Raguel's laptop and sticks one of the speakers into my ear, and he takes the other. He plays the most recent recording. It plays a random conversation of Raguel ordering Chinese takeaway.

"Informative. I always wanted to know what kind of noodles life-wreckers are into," I deadpan.

"I think this is his phone calls. He probably records them in case he needs to blackmail someone," Davian exclaims before scrolling down to find the date Candy's kid was taken.

He clicks on it. A dial tone fills our ears and another recording plays.

"This is Lieutenant Wheldon. Who am I speaking to?" Raguel's voice fills our ears.

"How is sister fitting in? Do the people trust her yet?" a raspy feminine voice asks.

Raguel sighs.

"It will take time. The rouge Revenant is a bigger issue than I thought. I don't know how this one broke its bonds."

"Get it under control. You're embarrassing us."

"Says the one who is not assisting in the least."

The woman chuckles.

"Oh, dear Raguel, I'm helping in my own way. The w***e that died had a son, no?"

"Yes, that monster had a son. The woman also sent photos to BBB new station to slander Cassiel."

"His mother is a shapeshifter. I want to test if he can become a perfectly good Revenant," the woman demands, "He could be a powerful asset."

"He's a monster, Alexa. He deserves to be put down."

"Not yet. I want him. Escort him to my place."

"Alexa, a creature like this is a threat. If kept alive he might grow to avenge his mother."

"I want the thing here in the next hour."

Click. The recording ends.

"Disgusting," Davian hisses under his breath.

"Angels are not even opposed to killing babies, Davian. You can ask my mother all about that," I reply, not shocked by what I just heard.

Davian seems miffed beyond belief.

"And they can get away with it all without any consequences?"

"That is often the way with powerful people."

He shakes in more anger that he knows what to do with.

"What on Earth is a revenant anyway?"

"Revenants are animated corpses who come back from the grave for revenge on those who wronged them. They normally require a tether to the mortal realm. I'm guessing that's where Raguel, Cassiel, and Alexa come in. They are probably using them as slaves."

"Are they going to kill the kid then turn him into a revenant?"

"Sounds like it."

He curses, pacing the room, dragging his hand through his hair.

"Then we won't let them," he grunts, pulling the laptop through Raguel's mirror and into the Veil, "I will find out where this Alexa person lives. By the way, wouldn't it be really obvious if his laptop is missing?"

"We'll see," I answer, pushing him back against Raguel's table.

The candles roll onto the floor. Fire begins to spread on the carpet, running up his desk. Davian casts me a bewildered look.

"What?!"

"It was an accident. Let's check out Cassiel's room before that goes up in smoke," I suggest before phasing through the walls.

I arch a brow when I enter a room that is completely empty. There is nothing. How odd. I wait for Davian to catch up to me before scanning the place. It seems large enough to be a master bedroom.

"This was Beau's dad's room," Davian answers my unasked question.

"They chucked out everything he owned after he died?" I question with a frown.

"It looks like it," Davian nods, "Maybe it's going to be Ethelia's room later?"

Judging by the dust, this room has been empty for around a year. We move through a few rooms that are there for display. From what it seems like Ethelia and Raguel are sharing the same room. There weren't any other used bedrooms. When we begin to walk through one wall, we get zapped and flung back.

"Ow, motherfucking cursed pumpkins, that hurt," Davian curses, clutching the laptop tightly so he doesn't drop it.

I give him a weird look for his choice of words then approach the wall. I touch it with a finger only to be zapped again. I walk out into the hall and touch the room's door. It zaps me again.

"There's a barrier that's keeping us out," I state.

It takes a lot of power to block a room off from the Veil. There's definitely something worth hiding in there.

"How do we get in?"

"I think we'd need to be invited in," I guess with a frown, "Or at least enter through the mortal realm."

That's going to be difficult, but not impossible. The front door slams. Davian and I exchange looks before backing away into the empty room. We wait on the other side of the door, listening out to who this might be. We hear heavy footfalls up the staircase along with sniffling.

"Master Beau, are you alright?"

Instead of responding to the maid, we hear another door slam. Davian and I peek out from the door. Two maids gather in front of Beau's room.

"Oh dear, do you think they had another argument?" one whispers.

The other shrugs with nonchalance.

"Stay out of it, Margret. It's not any of our business."

Nodding in agreement, Margret turns to leave only to stiffen when she sniffs the air.

"Is something on fire?"

They turn, eyes widening with alarm when they see Raguel's door catch fire.

"And that's our cue to leave," I mutter, grabbing Davian's arm.

As we pass Beau's room we hear soft crying on the other side of the door. I stop to scan the door until Davian yanks my arm and rush back to Virgil's room. Davian frowns to himself while deep in thought.

"I didn't think Beau was the type to cry or the type to have emotions," he mutters.

"I guess we'll see."

"Whoa, hold on. You're not going to see him, are you?" he demands, catching me by the arm as I turn to the mirror.

I roll my eyes and shake off his arm.

"What part of needing to get closer to the Evanderous family do you not understand? The dude is vulnerable. He'll be spilling all kinds of secrets if I push the right buttons."

He wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"You're terrible."

"I'm opportunistic," I correct him.

"You're not going to try to make out with him again, aren't you?"

"So, what if I do? I don't give a s**t how I get information as long as I do."

Davian's jaw ticks.

"Why don't you just wait for me to hack this laptop?"

"You can do that while I try to get info."

"I don't want you making out with him!" he snaps at me.

I arch my brow, surprised that he raised his voice at me.

"Why should I care about what you want? You don't own me. I'll make out with who the f**k I want," I scoff, figuring this is what I need to get him to ditch me.

He opens his mouth in disbelief. It surprises me how his eyes begin to glow with hurt, almost as if I betrayed him somehow. He doesn't verbally express it before disappearing. I can only guess he went back to hell.

I press my lips together as my chest clenches with an unfamiliar feeling. He looked more hurt than he should have. I don't understand what he expected from me ever since he started pursuing me. Not ties, no guarantees, yet, I feel weird about this.

Well, this might give him the right idea about me. Like everything, those emotions are temporary. He will have plenty of time to find someone else to swoon over after I'm gone.

*

The staff is occupied with the fire. Margret curses in Italian something along the lines of "return to the depths of hell, motherfuckering flames," as she shoots stuff from the fire extinguisher. My lips twitch into a smirk before I enter Beau's room. He buries his face in his pillow not seeming to give the slightest crap there is a fire on the premise.

"I want to be alone, Margret," Beau grumbles into his pillow.

I toss the comfort food Davian gave me onto the bed before shutting the door behind me.

"You know there is a fire in the house, right?"

Beau snaps his flushed, tear-stained head up, surprised by my presence.

"Oh no, not you again. Haven't you've done enough messing with me?" he demands.

"It's what friends do. It's also a compulsory obligation to listen to emotional blubbering when one is upset. I can't leave even if I want to," I announce, jumping onto his bed.

He sits up, scanning the food warily. He opens it up, wrinkling his nose.

"I can't eat junk food."

"It's not junk. It's food."

"Yeah, but it's not healthy food."

"Food with high concentrations of sugar are needed in comfort food."

"Really?" He sniffles and wipes his nose.

"Well, that's what I've seen in movies anyway. I can get a bucket of ice cream if you like."

"I'm not some chick that broke up with a shitty boyfriend," he grumbles but opens one of the candy packets anyway.

He checks the nutrition box on the back of the panels before stiffly stuffing a few pieces of candy. It then turns into mouthful. He then begins to shovel a whole bunch of 'junk' food with tears rolling down his face. I notice a nasty red handprint on his cheek. Ahh, oh no, he's crying. I f*****g hate tears. I cup the back of his head and guide him onto my shoulder the way I know Davian would have.

"It's ok, get it all out."

He stiffens at the contact but gives in. Beau wraps his arms around my torso and buries his head into my shoulder. He begins to cry harder. It's not until ten minutes later he seems to calm down. I don't blame him. This is probably the first time in a while since he's been comforted.

"Did Cassiel hit you?" I ask him.

His eyes widen but he doesn't deny it. He swallows his food and his face crumples.

"He wants me to start working for him soon," he murmurs, sniffling quietly.

"Why does that upset you?"

He gnaws his lip. I take a chip packet while I examine him. a***e from Cassiel makes sense given his behaviour. I remember he seemed way too worried about Cassiel finding out about him hanging out in Gomorrah's club. Cassiel's behaviour seems controlling, accounting for Beau's fear to step out of what is expected of him.

I suspected a***e when I saw a scar behind his neck when I told him to face his reflection. I wanted to drive a wedge between him and his brother. I want to bring rise to newfound confidence and watch Cassiel's foundations crumble beneath his feet. Nothing gets under my skin than people turning trust into a weapon. Trust is already so hard to maintain in this world. And it's so fragile.

"I see how bitter Cassiel's job has made him and I don't want any part of that," he grumbles, "That's why I don't want to work for him."

"Then don't."

Beau does have the freedom to run away and survive. He purses his lips as if considering whether that's an actual possibility. He sucks in his breath, getting up from the bed to pace around his room.

"I didn't see it before you talked about free will. I didn't want to see it, but I hate who I am. I have no one to depend on, to trust, to care about or anything I really care about but it's not my fault," he begins.

"Bullshit," I doubt, making him pause to look at me with tears of frustration, "Wasn't it you who pushed Davian away and started rumours about him when he was friends with you? You can't expect anyone to be there for you if you treat people like s**t, Beau."

He opens and shuts his mouth a few times before finding words to defend himself.

"But it's not my fault! Cassiel keeps forcing these expectations on me. Always use manners, eat certain food to keep my weight in check, wear a certain type of clothes, don't ask questions, hang out with a certain type of people, be the snobby, perfect gentleman that he is. Be interested in the things he's interested in like business and money. I'm trying but every time I slip up, he gives me this disappointed stare that makes me feel worthless. I know he wants the best for me, and it frustrates him when I'm not putting everything into what he thinks is best but I'm so miserable. I get so lonely in his presence. He doesn't feel like a brother at all," he rants until he becomes out of breath.

"He sounds like a control freak," I agree, "But you are the one who has the power not to care about what he thinks and do your own thing."

He pauses as if he hasn't considered that. With a sigh, he sinks back onto the bed.

"It's not that simple. He's my brother. He's all I have."

"So, you would rather fake who you are than have him judge you," I state, shaking my head when I realise I said a similar thing to Henley, "You care what he thinks even though he hit you."

I guess it makes sense all this bubbled inside of Beau. He doesn't exactly have any real friends to vent his thoughts to. Strangely, he reminds me of Henley and her issues with her family. She couldn't come out to them, so she felt lonely in their presence, mainly because they didn't really know her. It made her depressed, which was another thing she tried to hide from them. Now Beau is faking who he is around his brother. I don't understand why either of them were so affected by their relatives. Clearly, they aren't close to them if they can't let them in on something so personal yet, they still were afraid of their judgement.

Beau balls his fists as if it confuses him also. He lowers his eyes to the bed.

"Alright. Well, we have a couch you can crash on if it becomes too much," I offer, knowing this conversation probably won't make that much of a difference to his situation.

Beau's shoulders slump in relief and he stares at me with glistening yet hopeful eyes. He swallows and nods. I clear my throat. This becomes way too touchy for me.

"Who would you be anyway if Cassiel wasn't interfering so much?"

He shrugs, staring at the floor thoughtfully.

"Cassiel and I never used to be close but he became really unrelatable after you two stopped being friends. He hasn't smiled since you both stopped being friends. Can I ask what happened?"

He scratches the back of his neck. With the way Beau looks at me, he truly thinks that Virgil and Cassiel were close. Virgil was close enough he was at least onto them, considering his angel sketches.

"It's a bit too personal to talk about but you seem like a smart kid to refuse to work for him. Keep refusing him," I encourage.

He gives me an owlish look.

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't trust him," I tell him, deciding telling him everything I've found out isn't an option.

He's the type of person to confront Cassiel about anything I'd say and if that motherfucker catches onto me, I'll be screwed. Beau opens his mouth to ask me why when we hear the front door open again. He winces when he hears it slam.

"Just pretend you're sleeping. I've got to go home anyway. I don't think Morgana knows I left," I brush him off as I jump up from the bed.

He looks like he wants to push the conversation, but he nods in reluctance. When I make it to the door Beau clears his throat. I turn to find him staring at his hands with a sheepish expression.

"Hey, umm, thanks for helping me. But Cassiel isn't as bad as you think. He was just stressed today because of everything that's happening. We have arguments but I swear this is the first time he hit me."

Sure it is.

"You shouldn't defend people that make you feel like s**t. It'll become a bad habit," I warn him before shutting the door behind me.

I rub my temples to soothe away my growing headache. So, Cassiel is already feeling the pressure. He's already lashing out at people close to him. Well, at least I know that at least part of him is human. All I need to do is add more pressure until he'll break.

"What are you doing here?"

I turn to see Cassiel, Raguel and Ethelia walking down the hall. Ethelia wears a grim smile. I'm guessing their meeting was a pain, especially if she had to hang out with Raguel who I realise is the one who asked the question. Raguel scans me with the suspicion of a predator and I smile in return.

Cassiel's face is unreadable. The guy walks past me to approach Raguel's room that is now free of flames. For someone who was supposedly best friends with Virgil, he sure doesn't react to his presence.

"Answer the question," Raguel barks at me.

I've already had it with him and it's only been five seconds.

"I was visiting Beau. He's a friend. You don't even need to be a detective to figure that out," I respond as politely as I can.

Raguel isn't amused by my tone. He looks down at me, clearly trying to intimidate me by the sheer size of him. Granted, he's pretty tall, but I've seen taller. He has nothing on my sister who's 7 feet of pure muscle. He's a mere Chipmunk compared to her.

"You cannot be wandering around by yourself. God knows you're not adult enough to take care of yourself," he reprimands in a snobbish tone that makes my eye twitch.

"Are you bored from the lack of anything you've done to keep GoldVine safe that you've decided to harass villagers?" I question before cutting Ethelia a dry look, "I'm sorry. I just don't understand how hiring someone who 'protects' a city with a high crime rate and a very large poor to the rich gap is a good idea. The ghost of the dead woman in the church would probably scream at me if I gave either of you a vote of confidence."

"f*****g excuse me?" Raguel snarls at me as if he wants to rip off my head.

I offer him an innocent smile.

"People in town are whispering. They're saying they have no idea how you haven't lost your job yet."

Raguel shoots me a seething death glare which would intimidate most people. Gods, I'd love to tear beat the s**t out of Raguel's face right now. He realises he can't use fear to control me and it pisses him off.

"H—hey, guys," Ethelia interrupts us with a nervous smile, "Lets calm it down. Raguel, why don't you check your room for fire damage?"

He glares for a while longer before stalking off to his room. As soon as Raguel enters his room we hear him cursing in another language. It sounds like Enochian.

"You shouldn't be hard on him. He's doing the best he can," Ethelia assures me with a sigh.

I give her a deadpan look. So, this is the girl that Henley fell for. In the midst of her depression, this is the girl who made her feel alive. The one who made her want to turn her life around. The girl with the 'sparkle in her eye.' The one that made her heart beat rapidly.

I wonder if she does ever think of Henley. Does she ever dream of her? Does she have anything that reminds her of her? Any photos? Anything? Does her memory haunt her like it haunts me? Or was it that easy to move on? Once, this woman meant the world to Henley, but now all that seems like nothing. Ethelia seems to be doing fine pretending she never met her.

"You're right, my apologies. I just don't appreciate being called a child," I respond, knowing that it's not in my best interest to irritate her, "I've got to go. Nice seeing you this morning."

I leave the manor before I am tempted to shake her for answers.