Sweet Peril (The Sweet Trilogy #2)(10)

“You have nothing to be sorry for. And you don’t have to talk about it unless you want.” She pulled away and touched my cheeks. “Are you still up for our movie date?”

I sniffed. “I guess.”

“No spirits tonight?” she asked.

I shook my head.

She went to the kitchen to make drinks and pop popcorn. Her guardian angel, who was usually very still and focused, sort of bobbed next to her, expectant. When he stared down the hall I got up to see what was there, but it was empty. I sat again, considering asking her angel what was up, though I knew it would be a waste of time. Those spirits wouldn’t peep unless they’d been given higher permission.

I closed my eyes, trying to relax. My chest tightened every time I thought about that nasty Marissa acting like she owned Kaidan. And how he went without argument, hating himself for what he was about to do—what he was probably doing at this very moment.

My stomach turned.

“You okay?” Patti called from the kitchen. The scent of popcorn wafted my way.

“I need to wash up.”

I stood over the bathroom sink, contemplated being sick again.

As I leaned my palms against the cool ceramic basin, a sudden peace flooded every pore of my body. I took in a cleansing sip of air and became wholly aware of one fact.

I wasn’t alone.

“Be of cheer, little one,” said a soft voice inside my mind.

I opened my eyes and turned too quickly, knocking the hand soap off the counter. A spirit’s wizened face hovered near mine, as sheer as a mirage. No trace of malevolence could be found.

Was this my mother? My heart leaped . . . but she didn’t resemble the angels I’d seen. She didn’t have wings. All I could do was stare.

“You okay in there?” Patti called.

The spirit nodded and I opened the door. Patti looked at me strangely before closing her eyes with a hand on her chest. As a human, Patti could not see spirits, but she was a sensitive woman and knew they existed.

“What’s going on, Anna?” she asked. “I feel so . . .”

“I have a visitor,” I whispered, reaching out and taking Patti’s hand.

Patti looked toward the open space, marveling. Her guardian angel was smiling—something I’d never seen him do. Like most guardians, he was always so serious, but at that moment he seemed to know something we didn’t. Something that gave him great joy.

I turned my attention back to the surreal spirit as she began to speak into my mind.

“It has been difficult to navigate the earth in this form, especially when the pull heavenward is so strong, but I’ve finally found you. Finding you was my task, in death, if not in life.”

My eyes widened and I sucked in a deep breath.

“Are you . . . Sister Ruth?”

Patti gasped and smacked her palm over her mouth, wide-eyed.

“I am.”

Unbelievable. A giant grin spread over my face and I nodded to Patti. Tears pooled in her eyes. The spirit nudged closer to me.

The nun I’d traveled to California to see one year ago had died before I’d had a chance to meet her and find out what she knew about me. And now she was here. She must have perceived my elation because her laughter was like the tinkle of silver wind chimes drifting into my conscience. I wished I could hug her.

“Don’t make her stand in the bathroom,” Patti whispered at me, waving us out. She drifted behind us into the living area, but when we got there neither of us could sit. The room felt unfamiliar, as if we stood on a mountaintop with clear, fresh air, more relaxed than ever. We clung together.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get there in time,” I began, but she shushed me gently.

“I must speak quickly because I can no longer ignore my calling to the afterlife. I must tell you a story, dearest Anna. It has been my family’s purpose to keep this story, passing it down through countless generations so that it could be told. To you. My family line stopped with me, so I gave my life to the Lord, forfeiting an earthly family of my own. What I’m going to tell you could not be written. If it had fallen into the wrong hands, it could have been disastrous. And you will do well to guard it yourself.”

Prickles of anticipatory sweat beaded on my skin.

“Know this, Anna: if a demon or Satan himself were to hear what you are about to learn . . .”

“I understand.” I took deep breaths to calm my heart so the rush of blood wouldn’t muffle her soft voice in my mind.

“So it goes: In the year of our Lord 62, while the apostle Paul was under house arrest in Rome, a messenger angel was sent from heaven to speak a prophecy unto Paul as he slept. The apostle awoke in the dark and carved the words of the prophecy into the dirt floor with his fingers, bleeding into the earth. He covered the words with straw, hoping they would be found by someone trustworthy. The very next day he was beheaded. Only two souls besides Paul and the messenger angel knew the prophecy: his own guardian angel, Leilaf, and a demon spirit of the night. The demon had seen the messenger angel descend upon Paul’s prison quarters. When Paul was taken, the demon spirit entered the empty cell and saw the words. He briefly possessed the body of a guard in order to destroy the prophecy. We do not know what became of that demon afterward.

“Once the angel Leilaf had seen Paul’s soul safely to the afterlife, he was given special permission to return to earth. Having found the written prophecy destroyed, Leilaf took it upon himself to enter the body of a shepherd whose life was just ending from an untimely illness. He then took a human wife and had a child: an angelic Nephilim child. He told the prophecy to this child. And so it has passed through each generation. I had no siblings, and I felt strongly led toward the sisterhood vows, so I would have no child with whom to pass along the prophecy. I am the final Nephilim child in the line of Leilaf, guardian angel of the apostle Paul.”