Authors: Eveline Hunt
I pushed
against them again. I wanted to be alone with Sumi. “Byeeee,” I groaned.
They
glanced down at me, both looking a smidgen amused, before turning to go. Io lingered behind and settled on top of my hair. They were halfway across the courtyard when Sumi came up to our tree, saying hi to me and then turning toward their retreating backs. “Hun-kun!” she called, lifting her arm to wave.
Hunter
spared her a sidelong glance over his shoulder and—much to my surprise and secret satisfaction—smiled at her. He gave her a nod and then followed Ash to the side of the building, where they both disappeared out of sight.
“Oh?” I said, biting back a smile. “What’s this? A budding romance between Le Cold and Expressionless and Le Japanese Bookworm-slash-Hot-Mama?”
Sumi burst out laughing. “God. No.”
“Oh, come on, Sums—”
“Sorry, but art history? Not happening.” She scrunched up her nose as she sat next to me, cracking her paperback open. “Fiction is where it’s at. Particularly YA. With awesome chicks and hot dudes and—”
I laughed and propped my h
ead on her lap. Io slid onto my stomach, unnoticed by Sumi so far. She also hadn’t noticed the snake coiled around Ash as he walked away. Relief swept through me. At least I had one or two normal factors in my life.
Like
a cat with a yarn ball, I played with the neon-pink ends of her hair. “Speaking of,” I said. “How’s your blog?”
Sumi’s Sumo-Sized Bookshelf.
It
was the place where she posted reviews for the books she read. Which were innumerable by now.
Her cheeks went red. “
It’s fine,” she said, burying her face inside the novel.
I laughed again. “Embarrassed? Really?”
“We don’t talk about Triple-S-B in public.”
“I’m going to scream
its name across this courtyard right now.”
She glared at me over the cover. “I fucking dare you, Hazel Lisle.”
“Okay, okay. Fine.” I twisted her silky hair around my fingers. “I won’t do it. If you read to me.”
She stopped. “What?”
“Read to me, Sums.”
“But I’m in—”
She flushed. “It’s a kissing scene.”
“Cheese level?”
“Uh…” She scanned the page. “Around eight out of ten.”
“I’ll try not to puke on you,” I promised.
Her face softened with laughter. She nodded. I closed my eyes and smiled when she flipped to the previous page and, with a voice as soft as a lullaby, started the chapter once again.
“Finally
.” I pulled my hair into a French braid and tucked a couple of runaway strands behind my ears. Hunter had just glided in through the wall of my room as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and his light blinded me through the mirror. “I thought you’d bailed on me.”
“I keep my word.” His voice was back to the androgynous tone.
He came closer, arms crossed over his chest. “Most of the time.”
I frowned at his reflection.
“Could you turn down your halo thing? And why the hell does your voice do that?”
“It’s not a halo. It’s me in my highest form.”
The light rippled away, letting in the sight of his tousled blonde hair and tattooed collar. “All angels have a high form. When we’re in it, we look the same. In order to maintain uniformity, our voice changes, too, so that there is no difference between us.”
My brow scrunched up.
“What?”
He dragged a hand across his perfect jaw.
“We’re all the same. We have the same voice and the same potent halo, as you call it. Basically an army of no-names.”
“So i
f your voice is that…non-gendered thing…” I turned around. “You’ve spoken before. In my head. Right?”
He
stared down at me. It was an angel power, I guess, to be able to speak in my mind. I could figure out that much, so I wasn’t wondering about that. But I
was
wondering about something else.
“Who, uh…” I
curled the end of my braid around my index finger. “Who likes me?”
After a moment, he pressed his lips together.
“You kept saying…” I continued.
“I know,” he said. “And I miscalculated.”
“What?”
“Don’t pay attention to what I said before. I didn’t know what I was talking about.”
“O…kay?” Was that a stab of disappointment I felt? Damn. “Okay, well. I’m—um—I’m ready to go.”
“Good,” he said.
And then he swept me into his arms, arched his wings, and up we went into the sky.
Flying was the scariest
thing I’d ever done. In my entire life.
Going through
the ceiling was no discomfort compared to what I felt now. Stomach dropping, a rush of air, warm arms the only thing keeping me from plummeting down. Hunter glided through the air, his deadly wings giving one giant, silvery beat.
Breathlessly, I said,
“Don’t d-d-drop me.”
“
Who do you think you’re flying with?” he said against my ear.
“An asshole.”
“Is that the only word you use to describe us?”
Us. Him and Ash.
“Bastards?” I tried.
A quiet laugh.
“Much better.”
Talking was good but it wasn’t enough. Trying not to heave, I focused on his wings.
Sunlight bounced off his sharp feathers, outlining them in gold. I would’ve appreciated the sight if I weren’t having three heart attacks and a half. The air grew colder the higher we went, nipping at my cheeks and frosting the tips of my lashes.
I squeezed my eyes shut and involuntarily pressed tighter aga
inst him. “C-Can’t they see us flying above them?”
“No.”
“I mean—me. Can’t they see me?”
“As long as you’re in contact with me, no.”
“So they can’t see you.” My anxiety was making me talk in circles. I just needed to distract myself right now.
“Humans can’t.”
“But I can.”
“
You’re Nephilim, so yes. Of course you can.”
“
And you can—you can go through things. Through walls. And…ceilings.”
“Yes.”
“I can, too?”
“Only if you’re in contact with me.”
Made sense. “Okay. Um—can normal people—can they see demons?”
“Only if the demons want to be seen.”
“What?”
“For the most part, they like to remain unperceived. But if they want to create fear, they show themselves to the person
whose soul they’re trying to steal. Or whose heart they want to eat.”
I
didn’t get a chance to respond.
Hunter plunged to a patch of woodland
below, and my stomach rose to my mouth. I swallowed back bile. Giving one final beat of his wings, he set us down in a clearing lined with balding trees. As soon as his feet touched the grass, I scrambled out of his arms and tumbled to the ground.
“Oh, God, the
floor has never looked so good,” I said, rolling over like a fallen bowling pin. Orangey leaves crunched under me. “I can feel the worms under me. Moving. Screwing. Running. Who knows. It feels so damn good.”
He
looked amused as he stretched out a hand toward me. After another moment of burrowing into the earth, I took it and let him help me up.
He nodded at my thighs. “Might want to brush yourself off.”
“Oh. Right.” I gave him an embarrassed smile and patted the dirt away. “Thanks. You should warn me before we go into the air.”
“Not as fun.”
Sweetly, I said, “We’ll see how fun it is when I puke in your hair mid-flight.”
“Was that a threat?”
“Everything I say is a threat.” Without waiting for his response, I stepped around him. “What is this place?”
When he said nothing,
I turned to him—and stopped on my tracks. A long rectangle floated in the air, invisible except for the silvery streaks lining its edges. He plucked a feather, caressed it, turned it into a short blade. Then he set it down on the glassy pane.
Another feather was
morphed. This one was longer and sharper, shaped more like a stake. On and on he continued until a sizable array of weapons were on display. I edged closer and bent down to look under the angel table-thing, tapping the underside of its invisible surface. A ripple radiated from my fingertip and melted away.
“This is brilliant,” I said, marveling at it. “Did you make this?”
Silence. When I looked at him, he tapped four evenly-spaced points in the air, keeping them nice and close. A small dot of light was left in the wake of his touch. Then he grabbed two at a time and distanced them from each other, drawing them out into a perfect square. Imperceptible lines stretched along the edges of another floating pane. It hovered there, perfectly invisible except for its crisp contours.
“
Ceahel
,” he said. “That’s what we call it.”
“How did you…?” I stared up at him, awed
. “That’s really,
really
cool. Is that an angel power? Something all of you can do, or…?”
“
Some of us can. I taught myself.”
“You know what, Slade, I’m impressed.”
“Not rocket science. Just rearranging atoms, messing with the elements.” He nodded at the
ceahel
stocked with blades. “Now. Choose your weapon.”
Interlocking my hands behind my back, I
stepped toward the hovering selection. “What am I choosing it for?”
“I want to see how much you know. Pick whatever you want and show me your skills.”
I glanced up at him and looked back down when I saw him watching me already. Tucking a flyaway strand behind my ear, I eyed the shortest blade, the one which most resembled a knife. It had a finely decorated hilt, dark steel inlaid with cryptic circles and elaborate curls. But when I moved to grab it, he eased my hand aside and picked it up. He pricked the tip of his finger, and a startlingly red dot welled against his skin. Then he reached out and pressed his bloodied fingertip against the line of my lips.
I stopped
on my tracks.
“
Open your mouth,” he said quietly.
I didn’t open my mouth. What kind of
vampiric fuckery was this?
“Do you want to wield
the weapon or not?” he asked, looking as though he could stand there forever, waiting for me to comply. “I told you there’s a procedure. This is the only way.”
Crossing my arms, I grudgingly let my lips part. Just a little. But enough for him to slip in and press his warm fingertip against my
tongue, letting it linger. His blood burned and tasted saltier than sea water in the summer, but seconds later it turned unbelievably sweet. It took everything for me to not bite his finger off.
“Like it?” he murmured, catching the half-blissful look on my face.
“
Mmm?” I eased his fingertip out of my mouth. More redness trickled out of the cut, and I leaned in to lick it off. There was something sensual about the act, something personal and way too friendly. Hunter didn’t stop me. I didn’t want him to.
And then
I paused. What the hell was I doing?
I s
tared at him, wide-eyed. Then, ashamed of myself, I lowered his finger and wiped it with the hem of my sweater. “Did you just—” To be honest, I felt gross. “Did you just—turn me into a vampire?”
He looked amused.
“I was sealing the deal. You need to have my blood somewhere in your system to be able to use the swords.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“It’s for my safety. Demons can’t consume pure angel blood—their bodies right away reject it—so using my weapon would be out of the question. Double the protection.”
“If
they reject it, then why…?” Scrunching up my eyebrows, I looked down at the stocked
ceahel
. “Nephilim blood, then, shouldn’t…”
I didn’t know how to phrase
it, but Hunter understood. “No one is sure how it works,” he said. “But they say its human component tricks the demon’s body into thinking that it’s only mortal blood. It’s not fast enough to reject it. And that’s when it kind of just…”
“Makes the demon go poof,” I murmured, picking up a longer sword.
Wan light winkled off its metal edges.
“Yes. But if it
only makes contact with their external skin, it won’t have any effect. It has to go into their system. Cutting into them with a bloodied blade should be more than enough.”
I picked up another weapon.
“I don’t get it, though. Nephilim blood can kill, I understand that, but—”
“
It doesn’t just kill them.”
I looked up at him.
His
gaze was steady. “It destroys them, Hazel. Forever.”
“I…” What? “I don’t understand.”
“When my sword cuts through them, it only affects their physical body. A wound is left behind and they eventually go back to Haelvia, where they can slowly regenerate.” He leaned forward and rested his hands on the
ceahel
, his eyes level with mine. “But when you kill them with Nephilim blood, they’re gone. Forever. They can’t regenerate. They can never come back.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed.
“Your blood is lethal to them,” Hunter continued. “That’s why they hunt you down. They want to kill you before you have the chance to use it against them.” He cocked his head to the side. “Angels, unfortunately, don’t care. There’s no law in Sielae that says we’re required to protect you. When a demon comes after you, you’re on your own.”
That was comforting as fuck. Not.
I leaned forward and braced my palms on the
ceahel
, meeting him halfway. The light surface was steady under us. Not letting go of his gaze, I asked, “So why did you help me?”
Was it me, or was amusement playing along the lines of his lips? “Why?”
“You’re not required to do anything, apparently. Why go out of your way to save little old plain-faced me?”
“Hmm,” he murmured. “Skip.”
“Skip what?”
“Just—s
kip.”
Fine. “What about humans?”
“What about them?”
“Are they on their own, too?” Unable to handl
e our closeness, I straightened and tightly pressed my lips together. “Demons come and go. Try to eat hearts and steal souls. Do you angel assholes sit there and let it happen?”
“We have no problem if
they eat hearts or any other part of the human body. Just as long as their soul is secure. And once humans die, it remains locked inside them—no demon could ever get it out.”
“Really,” I said, taking a step back. This angel business wasn’t so pretty. Maybe I’d rather stick with Ash.
“In any case, we do protect them. But only because the human soul is tethered to the angel world. We’re dependent on it for energy.” He crossed his inked arms over his chest. “More specifically, we’re dependent on it for flight.”
I stopped. “What?”
His wings flicked up behind him. “This,” he said, “wouldn’t be possible without its existence. We run on its energy. If a couple of human souls were eaten, the weakest of us would lose our ability to fly, and those demons would inherit the power we’d lost.” He tilted his head at me. “So, yes. We look out for humans. To an extent.”
I started to pace
. Dry grass crunched under my boots. “Only because you’re tethered to their souls.”
“Angels are painfu
lly selfish creatures. So yes. Only because we’re tethered to their souls.”
“And demons are lazy.”
“Hm?”
“Angels are selfish. And demons are lazy.”
“They’re very peaceful. Lower demons aren’t, and that’s because they’re hungry and always want to rise in power.” The corner of Hunter’s mouth twitched. “Most demons may not like their Queen, but Haelvia is truly a nice place to live in. To be honest, not many are willing to go out of their way to come to Earth.”
I froze. “Queen? Haelvia is a…
monarchy?”
“Yes. So is Sielae.” He started to pace, too, walking a slow circle around me
and the
ceahel
. His wings trailed after him, their sharp tips rustling against the ground. I turned to keep track of him. “Even though angels aren’t allowed in Haelvia and demons aren’t allowed in Sielae, both kingdoms are diplomatic toward one another. In fact, the Queens have political meetings all the time. In Aiere.”
“Where?”
His gait was graceful and lazy and I wanted him to stop. It was dizzying. “The Inbetween. Neutral land. There’s nothing there, and neither demons nor angels have the incentive to try to build cities on its grounds. The Queens have a castle, of course, and that’s where they meet.”
“What about the kings?”
“There are no kings.”
I frowned.
“Neither of the
Queens chose to get married,” he said, looking amused. “Romance is not at the top of their priorities.”
“That’s…nice?”
He stopped. “I could show you some images. If you’d like.”
The colors
trickled in before I said yes. He was making me see what he wanted me to see, I realized, and the clearing faded to a blur. Another sight took its place: sleek skyscrapers, a blue sky, and a slew of angels flying to and fro. Wings of all hues: yellow and soft purple and petal pink and white, which was the most popular color, it seemed. They were not as spiked and monstrous as Hunter’s, but were set in a gentler, more familiar shape.