Revelation: Trinity Part 1 Read online

  Rose turned her face away, rubbing her eyes. “Surely you’ve seen me cry before,” she said, embarrassed.

  Christian moved then, stepping forward from the desk to sit next to her, a guarded gap between them.

  Gently, hesitantly, he reached out and cupped her cheek in his palm.

  Rose was trapped in his gaze, her world narrowing to the barest touch of his fingers, as he lightly wiped her tears away.

  “I’ve always been there when you have,” he said, quietly. “I’ve never been the one to make you cry.”

  Emboldened by his touch, Rose leaned forward until her forehead hit his shoulder, feeling his arms go around her uncertainly, resting lightly on her back.

  She exhaled a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding, turning her head into his chest as his arms tightened. She breathed in the scent of him, finally recognising it from the memory that echoed in her mind – the warm-cinnamon scent that she’d always associated with strength and safety.

  She thought of all the times in her life that she’d wanted to be exactly here, in the arms of her angel, and the tears began to fall freely – a bittersweet mix of a little girl mourning her loss, and elation at having found him again.

  Of course it was him. There could be no doubt. Finally, she was where she belonged.

  ***

  Christian watched as Rose dreamed.

  She’d cried for a long time, eventually falling asleep, safely tucked in his arms. He’d been content to just hold her, grateful that she’d not run from him, that she’d chosen to trust him.

  He thought of the times he’d watched her cry over the years – over anything from bruised knees to a broken heart –desperate to give her the comfort she’d needed, the comfort she’d begged him to provide. He was glad that he’d been given the opportunity, even if he was the source of her tears.

  He thought about how things would change now that she was aware of him, wondered if she would think of him differently. Would it be for the better? Would she feel comfortable in his presence? Or would she shy away from him, no longer sure?

  He remembered the look on her face as she’d asked him who he was, seeing the tension, the confusion. She’d looked at him like she was afraid, and Christian had decided right there and then that he would tell her anything – would tell her everything; two-thousand years of training no match for the desire to stop the pain that had bloomed in her eyes.

  Now, watching her sleep so peacefully, he realised how foolish, how selfish, he’d been. Horror washed over him, as he understood that, in that one single moment of weakness, he’d set her down a path from which she could never return.

  But perhaps there was still a way to stop it.

  Christian considered each option, weighing every result, realising that there was a way he could tell her just enough. That, in being honest about who he was, he could perhaps avoid the questions about who she was – or what she had the potential to become.

  It was far from ideal – he knew Rose was too curious, too stubborn – but he had to try, had to correct his mistake.

  Even if she hated him for it, he realised. Even if she looked at him in fear and scorn every day for the rest of her life, blamed and resented him for keeping his secrets – he would suffer it gladly, to keep her safe.

  Decided, he shifted Rose’s weight, and tugged back the quilt on her bed. He laid her down and pulled the duvet up to her shoulders as she curled onto her side. He watched her tenderly for a moment, before leaving her to her slumber, and disappearing into the night.

  9

  Rose woke the next morning, feeling better rested than she had done in a long time. She’d slept in, she realised, glancing over at the clock on her bedside as she stretched. Feeling odd, she pulled back the covers to find that she was still fully dressed, and stared in confusion until the events of last night flooded back in.

  She bolted upright as she remembered sobbing in Christian’s arms, the conversation, the revelation…

  She stilled, waiting for the panic to start, but it never did, and instead she felt calm, sure; knowing that the one thing she’d spent her whole life doubting – that Christian had saved her life so long ago – had finally been proven true.

  The thought made her smile, even as tears threatened, and she got out of bed, needing a hot shower to wash away all trace of the tear-stained, creased mess she currently embodied.

  She had just returned, clean, changed and feeling much better for it, when there was a knock at her door. A guilty looking Ana waited on the other side.

  “Hey,” she greeted, warily.

  Rose said nothing, contemplating shutting the door and going back to bed, before the desire for more information had her moving aside to let Ana in. She crossed the room to sit back on her bed, leaving Ana to perch meekly on the armchair.

  Nothing was said for a long moment. Then Rose sighed, knowing she should just get it over with.

  “So how does this work, then?” she asked coolly. “You and Christian? Are you one of them?”

  “What… did Christian tell you?” Ana asked.

  Rose remained pointedly silent.

  “Technically, I’m half,” Ana said, eventually. “My father was… like Christian.”

  Rose nodded, accepting this. “So this was just… a job,” she stated, having assumed as much.

  “What?” Ana looked astonished. “Rose, no – is that what you think? I’m just a student,” she insisted. “I hadn’t even met Christian until he showed up at matriculation, I swear!”

  Rose glared sceptically even as Ana looked away.

  “I know what it looks like,” she conceded. “But when we met, I didn’t know. I didn’t expect you to have a Guardian or be anything other than the girl in the next room. I would have never –”

  “Am I supposed to believe you?” Rose cut in, icily.

  “Rose, please –”

  I thought we were friends,” Rose continued, “and you’ve been lying to me.” She got up off the bed, unable to stay still any longer. “I trusted you. Ben trusts you. I told you personal things, private things. Things I don’t tell a lot of people.” She paced across the room. “Did you tell him everything?” Humiliated tears sprung in her eyes. “Was it a big joke for you both?” She blinked them away angrily as she slumped into the chair, her anger already spent.

  “I didn’t tell him anything,” Ana murmured, after a pause. “Nothing private – I promise.”

  Rose looked up from where she’d been staring at her hands, as Ana turned to face her.

  “I thought I was helping,” Ana offered. “I thought that I could help protect you. If I’d have known that this would happen, that you’d find out like this…”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Rose asked, simply.

  “It wasn’t my place.” Ana sighed, shook her head. “I wanted Christian to tell you,” she insisted as Rose scoffed. “That’s what we were arguing about. That’s what you heard.”

  Rose blinked, realising that she was right. She’d been so caught up in what their conversation had meant for her, that she hadn’t actually processed the argument between them – recalling it now put Ana in a different light.

  “I don’t know what to think,” she admitted.

  “I am so sorry, Rose,” Ana said, her eyes wide and imploring. “Of course I should have told you, but I got so caught up in it all.” She smiled timidly. “It’s quite an honour, to be a Guardian. I thought that I was doing my bit. But that doesn’t make it right. I’m sorry – I can tell you anything you want.” She reached out and covered Rose’s hand with her own. “Please, she asked. “Let me make it up to you.”

  Rose sat quietly for a moment, thinking.

  Christian had hidden from her for ten years, had lied from the moment she’d met him – and she was already looking forward to seeing him again, had forgiven him for everything he’d done with barely a thought. The idea caught her off guard and she frowned, wondering why she couldn’t help but trust him.


  In light of that, could she really be mad at Ana? She trusted her, Rose realised, despite not knowing her for very long. She believed her when she said that their friendship was genuine.

  With a sigh, she turned her hand around and grasped the blonde girl’s fingers in her own. Ana squeezed it hard, all the tension draining from her shoulders as she exhaled.

  “Okay,” Rose said. “Let’s start this again.”

  Ana nodded gratefully, the green of her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “Tell me what you know,” Rose asked, softly.

  ***

  Later, Rose was still just as confused as when she started. She stared blankly at Ana, who smiled patiently at her expression.

  “Okay,” Ana said, “One more time.” And began again, as simply as she could manage.

  “Not all celestial beings are equal,” she explained. “They exist within a hierarchy that determines their roles and responsibilities – a bit like ants, I guess, each one born with a specific purpose. There are nine orders split into three groups known as choirs, but I’ll stick to the third choir for now,” she said, “since it’s a little complicated.”

  Rose was relieved. She’d been struggling to follow Ana’s convoluted descriptions – talks of eyes and wheels and beings Rose could not comprehend.

  “The third choir are the most involved with the Mortal Plane, so it’s the most relevant anyway,” Ana explained. “I doubt you’ll ever need to know about the others – I’ve never seen any, only been told about them.”

  Rose nodded, letting her continue.

  “So the princes – the principalities – are the highest ranking member of the third choir,” Ana began.

  “What do they do?” Rose asked, envisioning the traditional fairy tale image of men dressed in armour on white horses.

  “They watch over the Mortal Plane, and provide guidance to the world through all religion. When people pray – to whichever god they follow, they’ll be the ones who’ll listen,” Ana said. “They also have the task of managing the duties of those below them. You mentioned Christian’s boss? He’s likely to be a prince.”

  Rose nodded, storing the information for future use.

  “Then there are the archangels – the Guardians,” Ana continued. Rose looked up in anticipation.

  “Their task,” Ana said, carefully, “is to protect all that have a divine purpose or some higher task in life.”

  “So… I have a divine purpose.” It was a statement, rather than a question, but Ana nodded anyway.

  “It’s likely.”

  Rose considered the possibilities, unable to comprehend it.

  “Finally,” said Ana, to distract her, “come the angels. They act as messengers, through the choirs as well as to man.”

  Rose nodded, processing. “Where do you fit in?” she asked.

  “Me?” Ana smiled, “I told you, I’m Nephilim; a half-angel. My father was a Guardian like Christian, and my mother is mortal.”

  “Can you do the things Christian can?” Rose asked, intrigued. “Teleport? Do you have wings, too?”

  “No, I’m pretty boring compared to him,” Ana said, with a grin. “Basically mortal, except I live a bit longer, and I can see auras.”

  “Auras?” Rose asked, “Like colours?”

  Ana nodded. “More like bands of light around a person that show how they are feeling, what they are.” She shrugged. “Different beings have different auras. Mortals are blue, angels white, and nephilim are somewhere in between.”

  Rose blinked, trying to picture it.

  “Here,” Ana grinned, seeing her confusion. “I might be able to show you. It doesn’t work all the time, but…” she trailed off, closing her eyes and taking a breath.

  Rose watched, wondering what she was doing, before a blue tinge seemed to creep over Ana’s skin. It grew brighter, a haze of sky-blue that lingered in the air around her, before it spluttered and seemed to spring back into her body.

  “Did it work?” Ana asked, breathless. Rose nodded, staring in amazement.

  “How did you…?”

  “It’s a sort of projection,” Ana explained, “I have to focus really hard on the bit of me that is nephilim, and kind of drag it out of me.” She smiled, looking pleased. “Most people can’t see it, but I figured with you having your divine purpose and all…” She shrugged.

  Rose tried to smile, but must have failed, because Ana’s face fell.

  “Oh, Rose, I’m sorry,” she exclaimed. “I’ve freaked you out, haven’t I?” She reached out, taking Rose’s hands in her own.

  Rose shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “It’s just a little…”

  “Weird?” Ana supplied, with a knowing grin. “Come on, let me treat you to breakfast, it’s the least I can do…”

  With that, she dragged Rose to her feet, and led her out the door.

  ***

  Later that day, Rose headed to her lecture, thinking of her morning with Ana. They’d gone out to a little café on Green Street for breakfast, indulging in a moment of normality as Rose processed all she’d learned.

  It had left her feeling better; coming to realise, as they chatted about classes and various topics, that Ana was no different to the girl she’d met at the beginning of term. Rose just knew a little more about her now.

  Rose arrived at the lecture hall and made her way up the stairs, finding Nate in the seat next to hers.

  “Hi,” she said, as she reached him. “Decided to take in a class I see?” Nate shrugged. “I wanted to see you,” he said, simply.

  Surprise fluttered through her, and she smiled, settling in beside him and unzipping her bag. If she was honest, she’d forgotten all about Saturday night. The club, the dancing – even Nate – felt like a long time ago, after the events of yesterday.

  Nate watched her unpack her books, seeming to be waiting for her to say something, but, as Rose turned to look at him, Christian walked through the door, and her attention was entirely diverted.

  Watching him as he made his way to his desk, nodding in greeting to those he passed, Rose wondered how she had ever convinced herself that he wasn’t her Christian. It seemed so obvious now. Not just in the way he looked, or the way he moved, but more the way something inside of her seemed to know exactly where he was, and reached out to him – as if she were a compass, and he were north.

  He looked up, perhaps feeling her gaze, and smiled, his eyes meeting hers. Rose smiled back, and for a moment their shared secret seemed to hang in the air between them, shimmering with promise. He stepped forward to address the class, and Rose settled in to listen, oblivious to Nate, who still waited patiently beside her.

  “William Blake once said that Milton was of the Devil’s party without knowing it,” Christian began, his voice carrying easily across the room, “because of the way he cast Satan as a hero, pitting himself against an unjust God. From your assignments,” – he waved a handful of papers – “I can see that you agree – or, most of you, at least.” He paused, looking up to meet her gaze once more, and Rose smiled at the warmth in his eyes.

  “Today we’ll begin looking at book three,” he continued, brisker now, “and Heaven’s point of view, so let’s see if any of you change your mind…”

  ***

  Nate rolled his shoulders at the end of the lecture, stiff from sitting too long in the wooden seat.

  Coming to class had been a waste of time. Rose had barely said two words to him, seeming enraptured by the professor as he discussed the merits of Milton’s Heaven – much to Nate’s disgust.

  Throwing his stuff into his bag, he stood as she did, following her down the stairs.

  “Rose,” he called, and she turned in surprise. It was clear from the look on her face, she’d forgotten about him, and he paused in consternation, before hastening to regroup.

  “What are you doing right now?” he asked, watching carefully as she smiled at him. It was distracting, half-hearted, and, unused to being ignored, he had to co
ntain his growl of frustration.

  “Right now?” she hedged, her gaze focusing on a spot over his shoulder. Nate turned to find the professor handing out papers, a short distance away.

  “I thought we might get that coffee?” Nate tried again. “I seem to remember I owe you cake…” He was pleased when warmth flashed through her gaze and she smiled. “That sounds amazing.”

  Nate exhaled, satisfied that they were back on track.

  “But do you mind if I rain-check?” she added, “I just have a tonne of coursework to catch up on and…” She trailed off. “Another time?”

  Nate nodded, too surprised to do anything else. “Sure,” he managed, “Another time.”

  Rose smiled, already turning away, leaving Nate to make his own way out – and he walked out of the lecture hall, utterly confused.

  Nate had left Rose on Saturday night feeling smug, confident that his advances were being well met.

  She had seemed happy as they’d spent the morning together, responding to him exactly as he’d hoped. Nate had even had a chance to rub it in the face of the professor as they’d returned, seeing the exact moment the Guardian had seen them together as they’d crossed the courtyard. It couldn’t have worked out more perfectly.

  Then, later at the club, she’d seemed keen – one might even say eager. Nate smirked as he recalled the way she’d kissed him; there had been no problem there at all.

  Why then, was she brushing him off this morning? What could have got her so turned around in such a short space of time?

  He sighed, rubbing his temple. It wasn’t a setback, he decided, not yet. Mortals were renowned for getting upset over the slightest thing, and she could genuinely be concerned about the level of coursework she had – it didn’t have to have anything to do with him.

  Realising that he would have to put his plans on hold until she was ready, he resigned himself to wait.

  Rose would come around, he reminded himself, as he strode away.

  They always did.