Kinzer’s gaze met hers, and the sadness in his eyes dissipated. His lips curled up, though she imagined he’d forced the smile to ease her concern about him. As he got in the car, he brushed his fingers through the front wave in his jet-black hair. His shoulders and pecs were tense against the tee he wore.
“All good?” she asked.
He nodded.
As indifferent as Kinzer had seemed about using his body in exchange for information, Maggie could tell it bothered him. It bothered her, too. These sorts of transactions were the perfect representations of that part of humanity that was so heinous Maggie wondered how he was able to have faith in mankind.
“And you’re sure this guy can help us get to Veylo?”
“It’s the closest thing I’ve got to a lead, so I sure fucking hope so.”
She pulled onto the road.
***
“Home sweet home,” Kinzer said.
Maggie could sense the sarcasm, but with it came a bitter reminder of how much time they’d spent in this shitty old factory.
Kinzer flipped on the fluorescent lights, approached an island in the kitchen, and set a sheet of paper from his pocket on it.
He glanced around the bare room that had been their living area since he and Maggie had started their journey—started searching for answers as to where the Christ was.
He walked to the wall-length window on the opposite side of the factory and gazed out at the city lights.
He looked so lonely. She couldn’t say it was very different from when she’d first met him, but it saddened her. He was a compassionate, kind man—well, a fallen. She knew he’d cared deeply for Dedrus, the higherling that had initially held her captive. On nights when they would go to the local bar for drinks, he would tell her of their times together–the times he’d had with Janka, the cruel ex-lover who he’d believed had died, but who had been secretly conspiring with God to destroy the world.
Sharing their drama-filled lives with one another had birthed a deeper connection between them.
“You gonna head to bed?” she asked.
He stared out the dust-covered window and shook his head.
“Nah. Think I’m gonna look this hospital up, figure out how we’re gonna get there, and then maybe work out.”
Work out. That’s all he seemed to do these days. He’d informed Maggie that, since he no longer had his wings, one of his myriad disadvantages was that his body didn’t keep itself up as it once had, as it did for most immortals. He had to work extra hard to maintain his muscular physique. She gave him credit, because he did a very good job, though he never seemed to be satisfied with it.
“Well… ’night then,” she said.
Kinzer nodded, lost in his daze. She wondered what he was thinking about—his loss of Dedrus, the betrayal of Janka, the horrible predicament they were in. So many things he could have been contemplating. Maybe it was all too much to think about, as it was for Maggie on occasion. Maybe, like her, he just stared off, trying to drown out the noise that crowded his thoughts.
She headed into her room and flipped on a lamp, gazing down at a mattress with cotton pushing from tears in the fabric. It had been her bed since they’d arrived there. It wasn’t easy to sleep on. But it was just as good as any of the places she’d slept before she’d met Kinzer. She imagined some women wouldn’t have been caught dead in such a place. After all the backs of cars she’d slept in, rough as this was, it was fine. Although, it was strange falling asleep without having passed out from a trip or drunken spell.
Nice, but strange.
She hadn’t touched crystal since she’d been kidnapped months earlier. She’d been dry, something she’d never thought she’d say. It hadn’t been a deliberate choice as much as part of the natural sobriety that had followed the events of a few months prior.
She removed her shirt and pants and gazed in the mirror.
Her dirty-blonde hair, once naturally straight, waved from her chin to her chest. It was dry and rife with split ends.
Her worn, cream panties and bra clung to odd patches of fat that had remained on her since the pregnancy. She figured some of it would never leave, but it wasn’t vanity that bothered her. It was the recognition that she would always be reminded of the beast she’d carried inside her—the monster that was to end mankind.
Initially, Kinzer and his crew of immortals had believed she was carrying the Antichrist, which would prevent God’s Christ from destroying the world. But they’d been deceived. She’d really been carrying the Christ all along. Veylo, the leader of a gang of fallens known as the Raze, had taken the baby, and since that night, she and Kinzer had embarked on a quest to prepare to hunt the Christ—her child.
She’d never wanted a child before, but since she’d had her child so cruelly ripped from her grasp, she couldn’t help but feel that she had been denied something she’d deserved. Though she didn’t deserve it. Maybe she had in another life, but nothing that she’d done in this one could have possibly permitted her to say she deserved anything.
She would never know what it was like to be a mother. And though she kept telling herself that was for the best, she wasn’t sure that she believed it.
