The Haven....chapter 7

(Author's note: Hey, I'm not sure how many people are reading this, but if anyone is, you're going to notice that I switched perspectives for the narrator. Basically,I was going through some stuff and just sat down with my notebook to get away from it all. And somehow, instead of Zoe, I found that Malachi had a lot to say.I'll probably have Zoe narrate the next chapter again, but Malachi will probably make a return sometime in the future. I like being in his head too much to let it go. I hope you do too.)1

Malachi2

I sprinted down the stairs, taking them 3 at a time. It was effortless to me, but I could hear Miranda and Ace panting behind me, trying to keep up. One would have faired better in a distinctly more marine activity, and the other was always sick and never explained why. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why I, the guy who belonged nowhere definite but always adapted somehow, was in the lead.3

Normally, I would have slowed down for them. Miranda was like my sister, a fact she never shut up about...Hell, everyone in the Haven was like my family, the permanent residents especially. And sometimes that was a problem. But I knew these people better than anyone else-their emotions and thoughts were permanently meshed with mine. But I couldn't stop, couldn't slow down. I was chasing something far more important.4

This was about Zoe. 5

I felt my adrenaline increase, my feet speed up so that they barely touched the steps as I thought her name. It was almost like I was flying. Behind me, I felt Miranda's worried-annoyance with Zoe turn into tired-annoyance with me. “Show off.” she muttered, low but audible. Ace, the last in line, was silent as always, focusing on the throbbing in his bandaged arms and legs and the sweat running down his unhealthily pale face-the signs of his limits. But I could sense him wondering why: why was I going so far for this girl we barely knew, that my somewhat girlfriend obviously hated, etc, etc.6

As my limbs and heart pumped almost automatically, leading me closer to the street, I was glad he didn't ask, glad he knew me so well, too. Because I didn't know how to answer.7

It was my heritage to protect people, but I had my lines that I refused to cross. If God and his little council weren't going to grant what I had worked so hard for, what I yearned for, then I wasn't going to go out of my way either. So I restricted myself to the bare minimum in my guardian duties; I stopped the impending rape in the dark alley only when it was clear that the jerk wasn't going to change his mind, and then I beat him up so bad there was no question him not regretting it. I would give the kind old man in the middle of a cardiac arrest the benefit of my touch only when I was certain the ambulance wasn't going to make it in time. And when I escorted the ones who couldn't be saved to meet the “real” angels, I made sure I hated every minute of it. This was my chore, with no possibility of change. I might as well see it as such.8

But Zoe was different. It was like I didn't have a choice. There was no hard, solid, definite proof that she was in trouble-not with the vampires and their possible contract with the Belial, or when she freaked out the first time she saw me. She could have been just dealing with the pressure in the kitchen, and now as well. But I just couldn't pass her by.9

I had been a mess while she slept, wondering if I'd screwed up when I saved her, if I'd been too late. For once, I felt lucky that everything in the Haven was constantly breaking down-it took my mind off of her for a little bit. And then when I saw her again, it seemed like there wasn't anyone else in the room. Just me and her, my ward.10

And now I was chasing her, trying to save her again, even though I couldn't prove to myself that she was really in trouble, that the Belial would capture her, or that she even wanted my help. In fact, on that last point, I was pretty sure the opposite was what was true. But she was just too important. I had to protect her.11

I burst out of the stairwell, into the lobby that remained from the days when the Haven served as an upscale apartment building. But I paused, and Miranda and Ace barreled into me. The three of us toppled over onto the threadbare blue carpet, finally still.12

“What the Hell was that!?”Miranda complained. “I don't even care if you're okay or not, this is what you get when you don't communicate!”13

“Get off of me and I will!” I growled, my cheek smashed against the floor. Ace had already jumped up, thankfully, and was standing a few feet away staring at our heap with a horrified look on his face. If it had been anyone else, I would been a little confused, maybe even offended. But that was just Ace. Physical contact, for whatever reason, was a big “no” for him.14

“So talk!” Miranda ordered, rubbing her scaled and swallowing as she climbed to her feet, a sign that she was getting dehydrated. Ace only sighed. He was tired, too.15

“I don't think she's down her.” I said slowly. “Sorry, Ace. It was a good idea, but I just don't feel it.”16

“Oh, I get it! She's an unrealized something-or-other with an unrecognized penchant for invisibility and she's hiding out in the stairs!” Miranda snapped sarcastically.17

I shook my head. “Think about it: You were the one who said she was probably the most powerful on in the Haven. So why don't we feel any traces?”18

Miranda opened her mouth, and closed it. Her eyes shut, and she stood motionless, her scales becoming more evident on her skinny, pale arms.19

Anyone or anything with magic in them can sense magic in another, kind of like the way I could feel the emotions of the people I spent the most time with. And what's more, magic in one brings out the magic in the other. With Zoe, it was especially true. The moment you were near her,it was like you had been hit with a pleasant kind of lightning, and made stronger than before. It wasn't something you could easily ignore, and yet that's what we had been doing.20

Miranda's eyes popped open. “The Library!” she proclaimed happily. “She's with Sam!”21

“Exactly.” I grinned at her and turned back to the stairs. Both of their hearts sank.22

I looked at them as I opened the door. “It's okay, I've got it.” I said casually, shrugging like I didn't care. “Meet me up there when you're feeling up to it.”23

Quickly, I ran up the stairs before my best friends could get that my Good-Old-Malachi routine was fake, that at the moment I couldn't make myself care that Miranda was about to turn into a fish girl or that Ace was getting so tired he would probably have to touch Miranda (gasp!shock!).24

The only thing on my mind, besides the guilt, was Zoe.25

Hurriedly, I climbed flight after flight of stairs that I really needed to fix, wondering if it was lucky or unlucky that the elevator had given out today, of all days. And also wondering what Sam could be telling her, as I made my way to the one room in the Haven that wasn't on my to-do list.26

After a few minutes, I reached the 6th floor, walking down the quiet hallway and pausing before the ornate Library entrance.27

I raised a hand, to knock or something, I didn't really know. But my hand froze in midair, as I heard their voices echoing in the room.28

As I heard Zoe say my name.29

“I still don't understand! Why does it matter what Malachi is, or Miranda, or Nero? And what am I then? And...”the angry, bell-like tones of her voice hesitated, “...what are you, Sam? You feel so human.”30

My breath caught in my chest. How could she know? But Sam only laughed.31

Something barked behind me. Startled, I jumped and whirled around, my hands curled into automatic fists.32

It was a tiny dog, sitting on the scraped wooden floor. Not much bigger than a lap-dog, the most unusual thing about it was the fur; bright, bright orange, sticking out in tufts from its otherwise thin body.33

And it was glaring at me, with a look in its unnerving amber-yellow eyes that implied that I had singlehandedly ruined his day.34

I sighed. “Look, buddy,” I muttered, “I spent weeks fixing up this door. I've earned the right to eavesdrop.”35

The dog only growled, like he could actually understand what I was saying and didn't approve. Which wouldn't have been the craziest thing to happen in my world. This was the Haven, after all.36

Groaning, I strode over to the opposite wall and leaned against it. Stupid dog.37

As if on cue, the door opened and Zoe appeared, cupping Sam carefully in both hands. Her eyes widened when she saw me, turning into perfect spheres of sky-blue.38

“Zoe,” I greeted her, walking over with my hand outstretched. “Sam.”39

He jumped across recklessly, his 2-inch body landing neatly in my palm. “Good morning, Malachi.” he replied, formal as always.40

The dog wandered over, his nails clicking against the floor. Zoe reached down.41

“Careful! He's not the nicest-” but the dog wagged his tail and jumped into her arms contentedly, letting her stroke his strange coat.42

Ha ha. His look was smug. She likes me.43

Zoe was silent for a few minutes. “Can I keep him?” she finally asked.44

“That depends. Would you be staying here, then?” I tried to keep my face composed. In my hand, Sam was wordless.45

She looked up at me without a trace of the awe, the wonderment, the maybe-I-belong-here I had seen in the kitchen. Instead, there was only hints of fear, and pain. “Yes.” she answered simply.46

Ace and Miranda suddenly pushed tiredly through the stairwell door. “There you are,Zoe!” Miranda complained loudly. “If I wasn't so dehydrated, I would kill you!”47

I turned my face away so she wouldn't see me smile. But who was she kidding? They were already friends, already close.48

And I could have sworn I saw the corners of Zoe's mouth twitch. Like she could feel it, too.49

“I'm sorry.” Zoe said sincerely, tucking a strand of light brown hair behind her ear and staring down at her feet. Miranda's shoulders slumped as she relented. Who could blame her?50

“Fine. But remember, if we had been swimming, I would have crushed all of you!” She pointed a finger at me and slipped her other arm through Zoe's. The orange dog jumped down the the floor and trotted behind the two girls as they walked back to the stairs, Ace following just out of reachable distance.51

Already, they had bonded. I couldn't help but feel jealous.52

I looked down into Sam's tiny, wise face. “What did you say to her, Sam?” I asked, carrying him back into the beautiful library that made up his world.53

“She had questions, and I explained the answers to the best of my ability.”he answered. “Why she couldn't go home, why she should stay...”54

“I heard her say my name!” I hissed.55

Sam shrugged. “She doesn't know what she is. Her earliest memories are of an Irish orphanage, and even those are foggy. So I gave her an overview of some random Haven residents, and recommended she contact The Agency.”56

“Random?!You told her what I am!”57

He looked at me calmly through his glasses. “What is wrong with what you are, Malachi?”58

I dumped him unceremoniously on his desk and glared out the window. “You're human,” I retorted. “You wouldn't understand.”59

The words had burst out before I could regret thinking them, and now I could feel Sam staring at me, utterly shocked. His story ran through my head; Wakahisa Isamu, the son of a Japanese samurai in the 15th century who had offended a demon and been cursed into his current predicament, minuscule and immortal. So had begun 600 years of living in a variety of pockets, from now-famous to obscure, either being treated like a pet, a curiosity, or as a very unlucky, yet intelligent being. He had learned everything he knew about anything firsthand, before The Agency sent him here, lumping him up with all the other creatures they had to 'help'.60

After an eternity, Sam broke the silence. “Kneel down next to the chair please, Malachi.”61

I did, staring down at the ancient carpet, wondering if he was going to hit me or something(not that it would hurt from someone that size) ,while he jumped deftly to the top edge of the chair no one ever used. Suddenly, he pressed a small, warm hand against my forehead.62

“I'm sorry, Malachi.” He whispered, breaking out of the psychologist/doctor/teacher mode he always occupied. “I'm sorry, Nephilim.*”63


I didn't want to talk to anyone else after that. I crept up to the stairs to the room I shared with Ace and Nero, hoping to avoid Heather. I really couldn't take her unpredictable reactions then more that ever, either yelling at me for caring about Zoe or acting like she was more into me than ever before. My head, my heart was too full already.64

But for some reason, I paused outside the door that now belonged to Zoe, as well as Cassandra. She didn't fit into the same category as everyone else-I wouldn't mind talking to her. I wanted to ask her how she was coping, if she really was going to keep that dog, what exactly Sam told her that changed her mind and made her stay. I wanted to demand what she thought of me, the son of angels and men who belonged to neither group. 65

My fingers twitched, wanting to knock. But what would I say first?66

The door was cracked, and I could see Zoe lying on her bed, stroking her dog. Maybe I should start by reintroducing myself to both of them....67

Just then, Cassandra came in from the balcony she had turned into a garden. I could see twigs and leaves embedded in her wild red hair, and I focused on them as I hesitated on the doorstep. I was pretty sure Cassandra still hated me for not letting her grow a forest in her room, but she spoke even less than Ace did, so I wasn't sure....68

Zoe sat up, like she had been waiting for her to come in. The dog yipped at the interloper, and Cassandra froze.69

“Hey,” Zoe said carefully, “I'm going to be staying here for....awhile, I guess. I hope you don't mind.”70

Cassandra only stared at her blankly for a few seconds, and I wondered if she had even heard the statement. She spent so much time in her own world, trying to avoid the places she didn't want to go, didn't want to remember, that maybe she had lost connection with reality entirely. Then she extended a long, dirty finger toward the dog.71

“He better stay out of my garden.” She said in her quiet, ethereal voice. Abruptly, she walked back out onto the balcony, grabbing a watering can off the floor and slamming the French door behind her as she went.72

Zoe looked down at her knees, and reached out to stroke the dog's coat once more. “He won't,” she said softly. “But you already knew that, didn't you?”73

In the hall, my heart froze mid-beat, and I walked down the hall to my room. How could this girl know so much, sense so much? I was more confused than I had been since the nonsensical day had begun.74

And this was just the beginning, wasn't it?75

*Nephilim-the children of fallen angels and human women. 76