by G. K. DeRosa
“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here.”
Something unreadable darkened his emerald irises. He sighed and closed his eyes.
“Ash, is everything okay at home?” His jaw twitched, and a thick vein pulsed in his neck as he opened his eyes. I sat back down beside him. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
He pressed his lips together and hissed. “Some things aren’t worth talking about.” He stretched out lengthwise across the couch and shut his eyes once more. “Goodnight, Liv.”
Sighing, I stood and turned off the remaining lights, leaving my best friend to the darkness.
The following morning, Asher’s shouts woke me from a fitful sleep. I sprang out of bed and raced to the living room where he and my parents sat in front of the TV.
“What’s going on?” I panted. Leaning over the back of the couch, I attempted to tame my crazy bedhead by sweeping the dark strands behind my ears.
“They’re fighting,” my dad muttered.
Across the screen, thick dark clouds had settled over Manhattan. Flashes of light zipped across the sky as the angels circled the island. A new reporter appeared, standing in front of Brooklyn Bridge once again. “It’s been like this all night, ladies and gentlemen. It looks like the angels are engaging the vampires. According to reports, the angels are wielding some sort of fire-blasting sword, which kills the vampires. Or should I say incinerates them.” He paused and adjusted his earpiece. “I’m just getting in another report. It looks like we have some live footage. Again, I caution our viewers that due to the graphic nature of this video, viewer discretion is advised.”
The screen flickered, and a dark shaky image flashed on the display. A shadowy figure huddled over a still form in a back alley. From the angle of the shot, it appeared that the video had been shot from above. A bright light whooshed across the screen, blotting out the darkness and landed a few feet away from the other two forms. The camera refocused, zooming in on what I could only describe as a warrior angel. I sucked in a sharp breath, my pulse quickening.
Glowing white wings stretched out from the man’s back, bathing the murky alley in a heavenly radiance. Once I was able to tear my gaze away from the unearthly, feathered appendages, it settled on the man himself. Lustrous golden locks rested on his broad shoulders, the gleam of which was only outdone by his metallic armor. The gilded breastplate covered his sinewy chest, leaving thick, corded arms exposed. The man held a blazing sword, blue flames licking the long blade.
It was as if time had slowed while I took in every breathtaking detail of the beautiful creature, but only a second had passed. In that moment, the dark form huddled on the floor looked up. Deep red blood trailed down his chin, a startling contrast to his milky white skin.
My stomach roiled. Oh God, it’s true. Every gruesome thing I’d ever seen about vampires in the movies came to life.
The monster hissed, baring his fangs and the angel thrust his sword at the vile creature. It seemed as if they were talking, but the camera wasn’t close enough to catch the words. All of a sudden, the vampire lunged.
The angel spun to the left, easily dodging his attack but the vampire circled back before I could blink. Raising his gleaming sword, the warrior brought it down in a fiery arc. The vampire ducked, somehow avoiding the lethal blow. He was so fast—even faster than the angel. He darted across the alley in a blur.
The angel flew through the darkness, illuminating the street with his magnificent wings until all that remained was a glowing orb in the distance. The video abruptly cut off.
I released the breath I’d been holding, and my shoulders slumped forward.
“That was incredible…” hissed Asher.
The video sparked back to life a second later catching me by surprise. The angle had changed; it seemed as though the cameraman was right at street level now. A dark blur zoomed by followed by a brilliant flash of light. The camera panned out and focused on the back of an alley. The vampire was cornered against a tall brick wall. He hissed and snarled as the angel advanced with his sword ablaze.
A trickle of sweat slid down my back as the angel stepped closer to the fiend.
“This is my last warning, son of Satan. Leave now or face the wrath of my sword.” The angel’s voice boomed across the still night.
“It’s too late,” the vampire hissed. “The humans are ours. This is vampire territory now.”
The snarling creature leapt forward, but the angel was ready this time. Thrusting his muscled arm, he buried his magnificent sword into the vampire’s chest. An earsplitting shriek ripped from the demon’s mouth as white-hot flames consumed his torso. The fire ravaged every inch of him until nothing remained but a burnt corpse. I blinked and the remains flaked away, leaving nothing but a pile of sooty ash in its wake.
The broadcast flashed back to the reporter whose jaw hung open, mirroring my expression.
“Did you see that?” Dad interrupted as the correspondent began to speak. “It just burst into flames…”
“Just like in the movies,” said Asher.
Mom continued to stare at the screen, her eyes wide and mouth forming a capital O.
“I guess that means we’re saved, right?” I glanced back and forth between my parents.
As if the reporter had heard my words, he echoed my exact sentiments. Then the broadcast cut to the white-dressed mob from yesterday. Hundreds had gathered in front of a church just steps from the bridge into the city. The crowd held their arms up in supplication—some chanting, others praying, and most with tears streaming down their faces.
A streak of brilliant light zipped across the display, and a thundering explosion vibrated the air. The scene blurred, static filling the screen, and then it went black.
“What the hell was that?” Dad moved closer to the TV as if that would help him see more.
After a moment of heavy silence, the reporter appeared once again. The poor man’s face was pastier than chalk. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. It appears we’ve lost the feed from that camera. All we know is there’s been some sort of explosion.”
“That looked a lot like the angel fire,” Ash interrupted.
I nodded, too numb to speak. But why would the angels have attacked that church full of innocent people?
The newscaster abruptly signed off, and we were left with the reel of grisly home videos from the past two days. I didn’t need to see those again. “Anyone hungry?” My stomach was in knots, but at least making breakfast would give me something to do.
My parents both shook their heads, matching expressions of disbelief across their faces. “I have to make a phone call,” said Dad as he headed toward his study.
“I could eat.” Asher stood up from the couch and followed me into the kitchen.
I opened the refrigerator and scanned the overflowing shelves. That was the plus of living on a farm, we always had a fully stocked fridge. “Eggs? Bacon? Pancakes?”
His lips twisted into a grimace. “I’m not really that hungry. You got cereal?”
“Yup.” I grabbed two bowls from the cabinet and filled them with the crunchy oats and milk. Sitting beside Asher at the table, I shoved a spoonful in my mouth. My usually favorite cereal tasted like ash. There was something about the frighteningly beautiful angel that had anxiety uncoiling in my gut.
Ash sat silently beside me. Judging by his furrowed brow, ominous thoughts must have been brewing in his head too.
Dad walked into the kitchen a few minutes later and squeezed my shoulder. “I just got off the phone with Xavier.” Asher looked up from his bowl of cereal at the mention of his dad. “He and a few of the other guys are coming over again today. After yesterday’s conversation and now after this—we’re going to take some precautions.”
A chill snaked down my spine. “What kind of precautions?”
“Nothing to worry about, honey. We were just thinking it would be a good idea to fortify our basements and sto
ck up on some supplies. In case of an emergency.” He kept a small smile on his face, but it never quite reached his eyes.
“Did you hear from Marty again?”
He shook his head, his tight smile vanishing.
Ash cocked his head toward my dad, speaking around a mouthful of cereal. “I can help too—whatever you need.”
“Thanks, son.” He patted him on the back. “It’ll be a community effort. All the local farms will pitch in, and we’ll make sure we’re all safe.”
I stared across the way to the calendar hung on the wall. There was a big red circle around the date September 5th. That was the day school would start. It had been looming over me for the past few weeks as I counted down the last days of summer. Now I feared the day would never come.
Chapter 5
The thud, thud, thud of the hammer reverberated across my eardrums, drowned out only by the occasional sharp buzz of a saw. Lowering the book I was reading, I pressed my palms against my ears hoping to muffle the noise. It was no use. They’d been at it all morning.
Scooting off the rocking chair, I jumped off the front porch and circled around to the back of the house. The metal doors leading into the basement were propped open, planks of plywood sticking out. Ash leaned against the wood-siding munching on an apple. He flashed me a smile as I approached, and I couldn’t help the flip-flop of my heart.
“How’s it going?” I asked.
He swallowed a big bite and shrugged. “Okay, I guess. We’ve gotten all the windows boarded up and now my dad’s helping yours build some shelves.”
“For what?”
“Supplies.” He took another bite, and his brows drew together. “Your dad is really taking this seriously. He’s turning your basement into a bunker. With the amount of shelves he’s building, he’s planning for enough supplies to last months.”
I gulped. The idea of being trapped in the basement with my parents and Duke for an extended period of time had my nerves ratcheting up.
“I wonder if your dad knows something we don’t.” Asher’s words caught me by surprise.
“Why wouldn’t he tell us?”
“Maybe he doesn’t want us to freak out.”
Had he heard from his friend Marty in the city? Was there more going on than what the news reports were telling us? No. Dad wouldn’t lie. “Did you ever get a hold of Annabelle?”
Ash shook his head, his eyes intent on the dirt between his sneakers. “My uncle’s driving into the city today to see if he can get in. I wanted to go with him, but Dad wouldn’t let me.”
I exhaled a quick breath, the air shuddering through me. I didn’t want Ash anywhere near those monsters. “You were going to go without telling me?”
He glanced up, his eyes not quite meeting mine. “I would’ve texted you on the way.”
Ouch.
“Asher, get down here. Break’s over.” His dad’s deep voice drew me from my dark thoughts.
“Gotta get back to work.” He tossed me his apple core and winked as he descended the stairs.
I watched him disappear into the dark basement, my chest heavy. He hadn’t even said anything about our missed date. It was stupid, I knew. The world was coming to an end, and I was worried about something so frivolous. But now that I’d gotten so close to a chance at something more with Ash, I couldn’t help it. It felt like everything was slipping through my fingers, and I was helplessly grasping at air.
My parents and I sat around the dinner table, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I shoveled a spoonful of peas in my mouth and swallowed numbly. There hadn’t been a single new report all day, and the anxiety looming over the living room was suffocating.
The last thing we’d seen was that explosion. Did anyone survive? Had it really been angel fire?
A jumble of questions clamored in my mind—and none that I could answer. But there was one that had been bothering me all day. Dropping my fork, I lifted my gaze to my dad. “You swear you haven’t heard from Marty?”
My dad’s jaw clenched around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
“Liv!” Mom snapped.
“What? The way he’s acting—it’s like he knows something awful is going to happen.”
“Something awful already has happened, Liv.” She pointed at the TV across the room, which still replayed the events of the past few days.
“I know, but I think Dad knows more than what he’s saying.”
Mom opened her mouth to object, but my dad lifted his hand, cutting her off. “Don’t, Emma. She’s right.”
My mom’s eyes narrowed as they flitted over my dad’s guilty face. “What do you mean?”
“I talked to Marty this morning.” He raked his hand over his face and through his dark hair, which suddenly seemed to have more gray than I’d remembered. “Marty and his wife have been hiding out in Brooklyn. They were hoping to get back into the city to collect the boys’ remains.” He paused and swallowed thickly. “He and a couple guys snuck through the Brooklyn-Battery tunnel. There aren’t that many people trying to get into Manhattan, most just desperate to get out.”
I gasped. “The police are keeping people trapped on the island?”
“According to Marty, they’re afraid to let anyone out. No one knows what’s going on. It’s hard to distinguish between fact and science fiction. They’re worried if they let people out—”
“They’re scared they’ll turn into vampires?” I interrupted. The disturbing thought zipped across my mind. How did you turn a human into a vampire?
He nodded, pressing his lips together.
“So they were able to get back into Manhattan?” Mom asked.
“Yes. And what they saw… That’s why I felt it was necessary to prepare and urged our neighbors to do the same.”
I leaned forward, sitting at the edge of my seat. “What was it, Dad?”
“The angels are battling the vampires, but the fiends are fighting back and sometimes winning. Marty found some dead angels—torn apart just like the humans.”
A chill raced down my spine, and goose bumps rippled over my skin. I didn’t think angels could be killed.
“And worse,” he continued, “the fighting is destroying the city. In just one night, half of downtown has been demolished.”
“What?” If they could cause so much damage in one night, what would happen if this fight got drawn out? What if it spread?
My mom drew in a sharp breath and clasped her hands together on the table.
My dad’s expression grew more serious. “This is why we need to be prepared in case the fighting moves beyond the city.”
“But how could it?” Mom asked. “The military has the island on lockdown, right?”
My head spun with these revelations, but I tried to organize my scrambled thoughts. “Angels can fly and vampires move freakishly fast. There’s no way they’ll be able to contain them.”
Dad nodded slowly, confirming my worst suspicions. “All we can do now is prepare for what’s to come. If it doesn’t—great. At least we’ll be prepared.”
Chapter 6
The next day, the first images of a devastated New York City were leaked on the Internet. Ash and I sat on my bed huddled around his phone as the shaky camera panned across Rockefeller Center. A hushed voice detailed the destruction that had swept through the famous plaza, but I couldn’t focus on the person’s words. My eyes scanned the scenery in shock. The huge gold statue of Prometheus had been toppled over, the great titan’s head lobbed off at the neck. The iconic flags that flapped in the wind were tattered, some poles teetered to the side while others no longer stood at all. Crater-sized chunks of wall were missing from the building itself, windows shattered and black soot covering the famous façade.
The whispering voice caught my attention, drawing my gaze away from the devastation to allow his words to sink in. “This isn’t the worst of it.”
“Damn…” Asher hissed as the video cut off.
His thoughts had to be on his cousin and uncle. Mine w
ere, and they weren’t even my family. The hollow look in his eyes warned me not to bring it up, so I opted for an easier question. “Why aren’t the news channels showing this?”
“They don’t want mass panic.” He raked a hand through his short buzz cut. “Which is exactly what would happen and will happen once more of this gets out.”
“What are we going to do, Ash?”
The tendon in his jaw ticked as he stared at the black screen of his phone. “We’re going to be ready, just like your dad said.”
I’d told him everything as soon as he’d come over this morning. We all deserved to be prepared for what was to come.
“My dad went to Wally World today to stock up on ammo,” said Asher. “He even bought two more rifles.”
“Do bullets even hurt vampires?” Because they didn’t in the movies.
He shrugged. “Maybe not, but at least it’ll slow the bastards down.”
“And what about the angels?”
“Who knows? Aren’t they supposed to be on our side?” He flipped his phone back and forth in his palm.
“Rumor is that all those people at the church are dead.”
His shoulders strained, and he sat up straighter. “I heard.” The tremor in his voice was so un-Asher-like it scared me.
I wrapped my arm around his waist and leaned into his shoulder. “I’m sure your uncle and Annabelle are okay.” I knew he didn’t want to talk about it, but it couldn’t hurt to offer reassurance, right?
He grunted. “Maybe.”
I slid under his arm and pulled him into a hug. His warmth cocooned me in a familiar bubble of safety. He smelled like cedar chips and apple orchards, like my Ash. With my head nestled against his chest, the pitter-patter of his heart echoed across my eardrums. The beat was calm and soothing, until it wasn’t. His pulse abruptly accelerated, and a part of me was sure I was imagining it.
Tipping my head up, emerald green eyes locked onto mine. His full lips were only inches away. My tongue darted out, licking my suddenly dry lips and his intense gaze followed the movement. He inhaled sharply, and I could practically taste his minty-fresh breath swirling between us.
