MJ’s fussing over me even more now. He made a huge lunch, and now I’m sitting on his lap in the living room. He keeps asking if I’m okay, even though his essence is constantly checking too. I keep telling him I’m fine even though I’m anything but.
And I keep thinking I’m getting better at this—at accepting the whole Heaven and Hell package that comes with MJ. But I’m not. My knowledge of him and his world is equivalent to an ant hill sitting on Mount Everest; I will never be able to take it all in. I’m not sure I want to.
His essence has been battling with my fears. I tried to push them all down—hide them away from him—but there are too many.
I don’t like lying to MJ about where I went. It creates knots in my stomach. Even though I want to undo the lies, the words won’t come. She forced me to lie to him. I think she compelled me, even though no one else can compel me.
I should hate her. She’s given me more than enough reasons too. But . . . I can’t. It’s not because of all the good things she’s done for me in the past. Or the things she’ll do in the future. It’s just that despite all the wrong things . . . I miss being connected with her.
MJ whispers something in my ear again. I think it’s Norwegian. I don’t know what it means, but from the tender way he says it and the kisses and nuzzles afterward, I think it’s a nickname. Something like “my baby” or “my sweetie”—but better. More from the heart. Something similar to what he said last night—that I am at the very center of his heart.
He rarely talks of his previous life. And from the expressions on his teammates’ faces, I don’t think they’ve ever heard him use his native language. I like that he says it for me.
Alexander and Tamitha seem nice, now that they’ve had a real chance to introduce themselves. They’re sitting on the love seat making faces at each other—trying out their new emotions.
I guess I’m not the only one adjusting to new things.
Suddenly MJ, Tamitha, and Alexander turn their heads toward the kitchen. A half breath later, Tamitha and Alexander disappear.
My heart races as my head snaps toward the kitchen too.
The door in the kitchen opens, and laughter fills the house as my family returns from shopping—an “idea” MJ gave them to get them out of the house while I was recuperating from the incident at the park. I hear Hannah run upstairs and my parents putting away some groceries.
Even though it’s great they’re home and happy, I feel nervous again.
During lunch, MJ told me my family’s memories of the past few days have all been altered. Mine haven’t. If I say something they don’t remember, then they’ll question me in their minds. They may even question their own memories. Guardian Angels monitor people after demonic attacks to make sure the new memories stay intact. If they suspect someone remembers the truth, MJ said the Perfugae will be brought back to investigate.
I stiffen at the thought. MJ said the Perfugae were Archangels that fell from Heaven after Lucifer. But when they saw how horrible life in Hell was, they tried to return to Heaven. They were turned away. Then they tried to return to Hell, but Lucifer shunned them too. Every day since, they’ve tried to make amends with and win favor from both sides. Their penance is to prevent mortals from discovering the existence of angels and demons.
MJ erased my family’s memories to keep the Perfugae away from them—really, to keep them away from me. I think they’re the same beings Justin was afraid of last night. I can’t do something stupid and mess this up. I have to go along with their new memories.
I wish I could have these last days back with my family. Even though many horrible things happened, there were many good things too. I finally started connecting with them. I even told Hannah I loved her. Now that memory is gone for her. I hate it.
I’d never said that out loud before. I’d never said it out loud to any of them. Even just thinking the words felt like a lie for some reason. They’ve been my family for almost seventeen years, and I love them. But I still can’t bring myself to say those words again.
Deep down, I think a part of me has always suspected I’m different from my family. And now I realize I’m not just different from them. I’m different from everyone. It’s not just about being adopted anymore. All sorts of normal people are adopted. But me, I’m . . . some sort of an emotionally unstable supernatural time bomb. I’m different. I’m not normal.
I shake my head. It doesn’t matter.
I won’t let it matter.
“Oh, there you two are,” Mom says as she enters the living room. “Did you kids have a nice—”
Mom stops midsentence, eyes wide. Coming in right behind her, Dad takes one look, then sucks in a breath so fast, he breaks into a fit of coughing. Mom slaps his back while her eyes stay glued to my face.
I stare back at them in complete confusion—until it finally dawns on me.
I’m still sitting in MJ’s lap, his arms still wrapped around me.
If I hadn’t almost died several times recently, I would wish for death now.
MJ quickly lifts me and sets me on the couch, then jumps up to help Dad—not understanding that his lap and the fact that I was in it is what spurred my dad to choke.
I was never serious with Ben. We didn’t hold hands. We rarely kissed. And I never sat in his lap—even when we were alone. MJ might as well have rented a billboard that said “WE’RE DATING—IT’S SERIOUS!” in big neon letters and placed it in the front yard.
Dad recovers. His face is blank, but the brow above his green eye is arched. It’s a look I know well. He’s too polite to voice his opinion in front of MJ, but he has something to say about this. I’m sure we’ll have a family meeting later. I hope I can convince MJ and the other angels to give me some actual privacy for it and not just be watching from the Veil of Shadows.
But then I realize the masked demon and her master will be watching too. Nothing is private anymore . . .
My worlds collide. The lines between reality and fantasy have crossed over so many times lately that I can barely distinguish between the two. Here they are—my family—unknowingly interacting with an angel. And he’s pretending to be mortal while he interacts with the people he believes are my birth parents because I haven’t—and now can’t—tell him the truth.
The only thing I know for sure at this moment is that I love them all, regardless of who or what they are.
Incredibly, my knees don’t wobble as I stand and join the three of them. They’re all silent, unsure of what to say. Mom and Dad look at me expectantly.
I can’t tell them he’s an angel. And I can’t tell them that snuggling up with him on the couch made me feel better after I’ve been through Hell—literally. Not unless I want them to think I’m on drugs. But I have to say something.
I open my mouth and hope words will spill out on their own. “Umm . . . MJ’s from Norway,” I say, then shrug.
“I see,” Dad says.
“Oh,” Mom adds. “So you’re a foreign exchange student?”
They both turn to MJ, and I nod my head, hoping he’ll play along.
“Yes,” MJ says.
I release my breath.
“Oh, well . . . isn’t that neat,” Mom says.
Awkwardness drips off the walls, oozing over me as I shift from foot to foot.
“It’s a wonderful opportunity,” MJ says. “And although I’ve heard it can be difficult to adjust to a new culture, Maddy has been a wonderful help while I acclimate. You’ve raised a remarkable daughter. You should be very proud.”
Dad and Mom smile.
“That she is,” Dad says, relaxing a bit. “Have you eaten yet, kiddo?” he asks me, wrapping an arm around Mom.
“Not since lunch.”
“Good,” Dad says. “How’s dinner out sound? MJ, you’re welcome to join us too.”
“That’d be great,” MJ says. He squeezes my hand. “I’ve never been on a double date before.”
I stand there, gaping at MJ, hoping he didn’t just call eating with me and my parents a double date. Maybe I just imagined it. But I glance at my parents, and they’re gaping at him too. He really said it.
I rub my neck, trying to ease the tension in me and the room. “When did you want to eat?” I finally ask, smiling as if this weren’t the most mortifying moment ever.
For a moment, my parents don’t reply. Then Dad says, “We’ll leave in twenty minutes.”
Thankfully they leave the room, but not before casting one last glance back at MJ and me.
I take a deep breath, turn to MJ, and say, “Yeah. Next time your ‘angel sense’ is tingling about my parents coming, make sure we’re not doing anything more than holding hands. And please don’t say stuff about dating and whatnot in front of them either. Okay? I don’t want to get ‘the Talk.’”
He tilts his head.
I rub my brow and sigh. “There’s this whole speech parents give when they think their kid is in a serious relationship, and I don’t need to deal with that. And for the record, no one goes on a double date with their parents. Ew. Double dates are with friends.”
His own brows furrow as he nods. “What’s this speech about? Parents are very wise, and yours love you a great deal. You should listen to them.”
I can’t even look at him. The only thing more embarrassing than having the Talk with my parents would be talking about the Talk with MJ.
Thanks to my half semester of health class last year, I already know what I need to do to stay off the latest “teen mom” show—not that I considered doing any of that, then or now. But MJ hasn’t had health class. Depending on how long it’s been since he dated, relationships and . . . intimacy . . . could be way different.
“If you really want to know, use my computer to look up the phrase ‘the birds and the bees’ while I get ready for dinner. But just know that I’m not ready to have that sort of relationship with you. Okay?”
MJ’s eyes widen, and he takes a step back. His cheeks flush. “I’m familiar with that reference. I came across it while doing research into you last weekend.”
“What sort of research would have led you to that topic?”
“Well . . .” He pauses, running a hand behind his neck. “I was brushing up on my knowledge of a particular skill set I hadn’t utilized as a Protector before. That phrase was in several books I read.”
A laugh sounds, and Alexander suddenly reappears. He clamps a hand down on MJ’s shoulder. “What this bumbling fool is trying to say is that he’s a dummy when it comes to dating you. In fact—”
“Shouldn’t you be in the Veil of Shadows?” MJ interrupts. A red hue flows up his neck and face.
Alexander just laughs some more. “You and I both know Maddy’s parents are in their bedroom and can’t hear me.” He gives MJ a playful shove. “As I was saying, he’s a dummy, and I have proof: Dating for Dummies was the book he was reading when I found him in the Immortal City library.”
MJ looks away as his head and shoulders slump. Alexander chuckles, then disappears with a wink.
MJ’s embarrassed. That’s incredibly sweet. Not wanting him to suffer any longer, I change the subject. “Heaven has a library?”
“Yes,” he admits, though he doesn’t look up.
“When were you there?”
“Sunday,” he mutters.
Now it makes sense. He truly didn’t know what he was doing on our date that day, but he tried for me. He didn’t even know my name then.
I throw my arms around him and kiss his cheek. He gasps and stumbles backward.
“Thank you,” I say.
Before he can say anything back, I leave the room to get ready for dinner.