24 My Love (Glove)

The scientists said it was a freak instance of continental plate movement. Off-the-charts magnitude, a catastrophe. Hundreds killed in fires, thousands homeless from collapsed apartments, Buckingham Palace nearly destroyed. The world mourned for London, and Hortense started a relief fund for the capital's reconstruction.

I walked campus with dead eyes, stones on my shoulders. My guilt weighed me down, and the only way to alleviate it was to study, study, study until I bled amino acid groups and whispered the steps of poly-ubiquitination in my sleep. Memorizing notes was my punishment, slaving over the potter's wheel my penance.

I realized what a masochist I was the morning of my genetics final as I stared into my bedroom mirror, my hair a rat's nest, bruises under my eyes. I touched the mercury's reflection and traced my weary face.

I hadn't bathed for days. I trudged down the hall in a bathrobe and slipped into the shower. The water was scalding. I rubbed myself raw with a loofah and let my skin burn under the faucet. I emerged red as the Devil and trudged back to my room.

Rosanna was up, brushing snarls from her hair. She dropped her brush onto her desk. "Jesus. You look like a lobster. You okay?"

The secret I'd been keeping for days burst past my lips: "People died because of me."

She picked up her brush. "What are you talking about? Are you sick?"

I sank onto my bed. "Remember how the earthquake was on my birthday?"

Rosanna paused. "No. You couldn't make a natural disaster like that happen."

I hugged my legs to my chest and choked back tears. "Raziel made me open another seal. He tortured me."

Rosanna flew to my side. "Why the hell didn't you tell me! Why didn't Samael stop him?" She hugged me, hard.

I sniffled. "Sam couldn't. Raziel was going to hurt me. I just wanted the pain to stop. I wasn't thinking."

Rosanna hushed me. "Cariña, this isn't your fault. It's that piece of crap Raziel's. Dios mio, I don't want you to hurt anymore. You're a martyr for Samael – he keeps making you put your life on the line, and for what? So you can get hurt? The hell is wrong with him?"

I shook my head. "I don't know – everything's a mess, and I feel like I'm drowning in it. My actions have serious consequences, and I can't handle them." I stared out the window, at the deceptively cheery college green. "All those people that died – their blood is on my hands. I feel like Lady Macbeth, with a stain that won't go away."

Rosanna smoothed her hand down my back. "You need to stop letting Samael manipulate you. Every time he asks for your help, something awful happens."

I rested my chin on my knees. "It's not his fault. It's mine. I'm the one that broke the first seal. I have to fix this."

"Stop trying to go it alone. Divya and I are here to help you. You keep all your problems to yourself, and you never ask for support." Rosanna squeezed me tight. "You're going to get yourself killed."

The genetics exam blurred together with my ceramics final and ecology test. Before I knew it, it was the night before my departure. I stripped my room bare, took down my David Bowie poster, and rolled up my Sylvia Plath quotes. Packing was therapeutic.

Rosanna, Divya and I went out for one last hurrah at the Golden Dragon. We promised to call each other over the summer and send postcards of our trips. Divya was leaving for a study abroad program in Australia, Rosanna had an internship at a publishing house in New York City, and I was headed to the Amazon in a week with Dr. Crane and Arietta.

My parents parked their van by Trothman Hall early the next morning. After loading the car, my family went out to brunch at a quaint bed-and-breakfast on the Chesapeake. We sat on the porch and soaked in the May warmth. Mo drizzled syrup on his pancakes. He ate so much, as if his body was playing host to four men. Maybe he had a tapeworm.

For the first time in a week, I felt at peace. Maybe I was getting used to the horrors of immortals, or perhaps I was too jaded to give a damn anymore. London's victims and Raziel's touch still haunted my dreams, but during the day, my nightmares slept at the back of my mind, leaving me to at least pretend I was okay.

"How did your exams go, kiddo?" Dad asked, sugar powder from his waffles dusting his upper lip like a mustache.

I shrugged. "Okay. Genetics was hard, and I probably got a B on my ceramics project. But I'm sure I passed everything."

Dad looked at Mo, who was mid-bite into a strawberry. "And you, Mo? Straight C's again?"

Mo coughed on his food. He thumped his chest with his fist.

Mom laughed. "Ernest, don't be hard on him. I'm sure he did better this semester."

Mo was silent. "I don't know. I've been feeling weird lately."

Redmont County was the same as I had left it last summer - northern Virginia suburbs interspersed with horse country. Our old farmhouse was tucked into the woods on Redmont's outskirts. Dogwood trees and azalea bushes bloomed in the front yard. Oak and maple branches swayed in the breeze, and cicadas hummed like a choir. I lugged my suitcase and boxes upstairs with my family's help and set to unpacking.

I put my spider containers on my dresser and synced up 'Starman' by David Bowie on my speaker. Clothing unpacked and other essentials stowed away, I finally came to my backpack. Samael's hourglass spilled onto my bed when I unzipped the main pocket.

"Damn it," I said. I picked up the gift and, without meaning to, thought of Samael.

The sand in the hourglass swirled. Samael was at Damien's with Beelzebub, nursing a cup of coffee. He looked up, eyes making contact with mine. "Shannon?"

I startled and dropped the hourglass. "You can see me?"

Samael nodded. "Of course. It's my hourglass."

Beelzebub gave Samael a skeptical look. "You're talking to yourself again."

Samael took a sip of his coffee. "I'm not. Shannon's checking in on me. Isn't that sweet?"

I set the hourglass upright. "I didn't mean to. I just got home. I can't deal with you right now."

Samael slumped. "Deal with me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means she's sick of you," Beelzebub said.

I sat on my bed. "Look, I just had finals. I don't have time to deal with supernatural crap. Whenever I'm with you, shit hits the fan. I need a break."

"A break?" Samael repeated.

I smoothed the bed's cover. "Yeah."