read
out loud one of the tape labels. “Street of Rain.”
“You need to go home to your wife.”
Chuck gestured with the tape. “You were
assaulted. It was horrible. Are you okay?”
“It was a long time ago.”
The bond Chuck felt with Everett in the
regression didn’t seem to translate into the real word. “We just
lived through it. I was there.” But he hadn’t been there; it was an
illusion. “What have you done to me?”
“I am not brainwashing you, if that’s what
you’re thinking. The process just keeps me honest. If I told you
beforehand, would you have agreed to regress with me? Go. In time,
you will know what I know, but many hours have passed. Your wife
will be worried.”
Chuck shut the case and, realizing the
implications of the daylight, pulled out his phone. “God. It’s
almost nine. We went through the whole night.”
Grimes stood up with a grunt of effort.
“What happened? With that woman, I mean.”
They left the regression the moment Everett got into the stranger’s
car. “Was she connected to the House of Cabal? And what’s inside
the box?”
“Tomorrow. Eight AM. We will continue and
you’ll get your answers. Now go. And next time, wear something more
comfortable.” Grimes paused at the doorway without looking back. “I
don’t like suits. Now get out of here.” He left Chuck to find his
own way out.
III
As Chuck drove home, he listened to the
recordings about that stormy night in Portland back in 2000 and
relived Everett’s traumatic memories. While listening to the
attempted rape, he started to cry uncontrollably and had to pull
off an off ramp, half blind, and over to the side of the road. It
wasn’t just a story. He was there. He witnessed it firsthand.
“What have you done to me? What have you
done?”
His whole body felt limp and exhausted by the
time he stopped crying.
“Okay. I have to get home.”
He had witnessed Everett’s past. He didn’t
know it, but I had witnessed it with him.
The regression was a way for me to follow
Everett’s destiny thread without needing to see the actual thread.
The two of them hadn’t arrived at the House of Cabal yet, but it
was only a matter of time. By hitching a ride on the humans as they
explored using the regression, I could witness the events of the
timeline without actually exploring the timeline myself. I wasn’t
sure how it worked, but that too would become clear eventually.
This was something new, something no other angel had experienced,
and it was my salvation.
I had found my way inside.
Chapter 7
Chuck, having regained his composure during the rest of the drive,
stepped through the front door of his suburban home, anxious to see
his wife Meredith.
He put down his briefcase by the door. Biff,
a Labrador and Shepherd mix, padded up and licked his hand. Chuck
wanted Meredith’s comfort but also knew she would probably be upset
that he’d gone missing for a night. With Biff at his heels, he
rushed into the front room.
She wasn’t in her Gustav Stickley rocking
chair, where he thought she would be.
She received the heavy, oak, Mission style
rocker as a gift from her daughter shortly after the twins were
born. It was two-hundred and fifteen years old and symbolized
Meredith’s transition to grandmotherhood. Meredith rocked in it
whenever she was anxious. She’d even taken up knitting. The black
and white scarf she was working on was much further along than it
had been yesterday.
Maybe she was tired of waiting and went
shopping or to the college to grade papers. Her class wasn’t for a
few hours, but she could have gone early.
He would make it up to her somehow. He would
take her into his arms and tell her how sorry he was for neglecting
her. That would be a start at least.
There was a noise from the back of the
house.
“Meredith?”
It sounded like it was coming from his study,
like an intruder was ransacking his work.
It was Meredith rifling through his
files.
“What are
out loud one of the tape labels. “Street of Rain.”
“You need to go home to your wife.”
Chuck gestured with the tape. “You were
assaulted. It was horrible. Are you okay?”
“It was a long time ago.”
The bond Chuck felt with Everett in the
regression didn’t seem to translate into the real word. “We just
lived through it. I was there.” But he hadn’t been there; it was an
illusion. “What have you done to me?”
“I am not brainwashing you, if that’s what
you’re thinking. The process just keeps me honest. If I told you
beforehand, would you have agreed to regress with me? Go. In time,
you will know what I know, but many hours have passed. Your wife
will be worried.”
Chuck shut the case and, realizing the
implications of the daylight, pulled out his phone. “God. It’s
almost nine. We went through the whole night.”
Grimes stood up with a grunt of effort.
“What happened? With that woman, I mean.”
They left the regression the moment Everett got into the stranger’s
car. “Was she connected to the House of Cabal? And what’s inside
the box?”
“Tomorrow. Eight AM. We will continue and
you’ll get your answers. Now go. And next time, wear something more
comfortable.” Grimes paused at the doorway without looking back. “I
don’t like suits. Now get out of here.” He left Chuck to find his
own way out.
III
As Chuck drove home, he listened to the
recordings about that stormy night in Portland back in 2000 and
relived Everett’s traumatic memories. While listening to the
attempted rape, he started to cry uncontrollably and had to pull
off an off ramp, half blind, and over to the side of the road. It
wasn’t just a story. He was there. He witnessed it firsthand.
“What have you done to me? What have you
done?”
His whole body felt limp and exhausted by the
time he stopped crying.
“Okay. I have to get home.”
He had witnessed Everett’s past. He didn’t
know it, but I had witnessed it with him.
The regression was a way for me to follow
Everett’s destiny thread without needing to see the actual thread.
The two of them hadn’t arrived at the House of Cabal yet, but it
was only a matter of time. By hitching a ride on the humans as they
explored using the regression, I could witness the events of the
timeline without actually exploring the timeline myself. I wasn’t
sure how it worked, but that too would become clear eventually.
This was something new, something no other angel had experienced,
and it was my salvation.
I had found my way inside.
Chapter 7
Chuck, having regained his composure during the rest of the drive,
stepped through the front door of his suburban home, anxious to see
his wife Meredith.
He put down his briefcase by the door. Biff,
a Labrador and Shepherd mix, padded up and licked his hand. Chuck
wanted Meredith’s comfort but also knew she would probably be upset
that he’d gone missing for a night. With Biff at his heels, he
rushed into the front room.
She wasn’t in her Gustav Stickley rocking
chair, where he thought she would be.
She received the heavy, oak, Mission style
rocker as a gift from her daughter shortly after the twins were
born. It was two-hundred and fifteen years old and symbolized
Meredith’s transition to grandmotherhood. Meredith rocked in it
whenever she was anxious. She’d even taken up knitting. The black
and white scarf she was working on was much further along than it
had been yesterday.
Maybe she was tired of waiting and went
shopping or to the college to grade papers. Her class wasn’t for a
few hours, but she could have gone early.
He would make it up to her somehow. He would
take her into his arms and tell her how sorry he was for neglecting
her. That would be a start at least.
There was a noise from the back of the
house.
“Meredith?”
It sounded like it was coming from his study,
like an intruder was ransacking his work.
It was Meredith rifling through his
files.
“What are
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