Meant to Be (The Saving Angels 1)

I blinked at the sudden light that filled the room. I was disappointed that the dream had not eased the ache in my heart, instead realizing that I was feeling sicker than before. At this point, I guessed we had been separated for more than 24 hours now.

I tried to raise my head but, laid back down acknowledging the fact that my strength was sapping away. Maybe my violent bout of sickness had escalated it, but I was getting worse by the moment.

My musing was interrupted as the door to my room was opened.

“They want to see you back in the laboratory,” Bruno said stepping into the room.

I sighed and tried to sit up, my body fell weakly back down to the cot. Bruno reached down and with one hand and pulled me to my feet. I tried to steady my balance, but my water like legs made the effort useless. They gave out from under me, but before I could hit the floor Bruno scooped me back up in his arms.

I was grateful for his help, but could not express it as I laid my head against his arm and closed my eyes as he carried me out of the room.

I dozed off for a moment during the walk down the hall, but was awakened by the many voices and activity in the room when we entered.

“I don’t think she can handle another round of whatever you did to her last night,” I heard Bruno say. “She was too weak to even hold her head up.”

“Yes, the testing can be quite rigorous, but when the others join us, it will be well worth it. We have to see how far she can be pushed,” Russo said.

“I just feel tha…”

“I’m not paying you to feel, or think for that matter! Just do your job and leave the thinking to me, understand!”

I tried to make sense of anything that I was hearing. Push me for what? I thought. Could he really be responsible for my dreams? What about Sam and Shawn?

“Why are you doing this?” I asked in as strong a voice as I could muster, not wanting to give them the satisfaction of knowing how weak I really was.

“Why? Because, it’s the most logical way to test my theories.”

I looked at him in dismay. He was still talking in riddles.

Noting my confusion, he sighed.

“Well, I did promise you some answers, and it’s obvious you don’t have much longer. Though I am quite disappointed that my experiment failed, I expected the injection to have a stronger effect at this point, but I shouldn’t be surprised. You women have always been weak. It’s a wonder we didn’t die out centuries ago,” he said disdainfully.

“Where to begin,” he started. “I guess the best place is the beginning.”

“In the beginning…”

Was he kidding? It sounds like he was quoting the bible.

“There were many of us through the years and we all converged here in Santa Cruz.”

“Why?” I asked trying to process both his statements.

He looked at me like I was a disobedient child for interrupting him.

I clamped my mouth closed not out of respect, but sensing he would stop talking if I didn’t act like the puppet he wanted me to be.

“We are drawn here because Santa Cruz is what you would call Holy Ground. ”

“What do you mean Holy Ground?” I asked.

“Can I continue or are you going to act like an insolent child?” He asked in the condescending tone I was beginning to hate with a passion.

“Holy Ground, meaning that celestial beings are drawn here, or more accurately, Guides and Protectors are drawn here.”

My head reeled at his words. ‘Celestial Beings?’ ‘Guides and Protectors?’ My religious background was sketchy, but I did know that ‘celestial beings’ meant angels or something like that, but I had no idea what he meant by ‘Protectors’ and ‘Guides.’ A million questions raced through my head, but I held my tongue.

“In fact, Santa Cruz means Holy Cross,” he continued. “For centuries, our kind gathered here and were then dispersed by arch angels to go out and ward off the evil that plagued the earth,” he said with bitterness dripping from his voice. “We were paired with soul mates, creating a predetermined connection between a Guide and a Protector. Plus, our reproduction ensured that our kind would continue from one generation to the next. “The Guides,” he said looking at me bitterly, “were created to use their emotions to find the evil that lurked in the human spirit and use that emotional power to try to sway them to the good side, instead of the path they were on. Protectors were sent to protect the Guides at all cost. The trick is that one cannot survive without the other. I’m sure they felt we would cherish the bond that tied us together. I, however, was the exception. I survived the loss of my weaker companion and became stronger despite the severing of our bond. I plan on making the remaining Protectors like me. Meaning, the life of a Protector will no longer rely on that of a weak companion that is susceptible to every human emotion. So you see my dear, I will fix God’s mistake. Of course, I had hoped that the injection I gave you would make you stronger; giving you better control over your emotions, but science sometimes takes time doesn’t it? Unfortunately for you however, time is a luxury you no longer have. I’m sure your death will destroy your Protector, just as every other Guide’s death has before you.”