The Rising

by L F Seitz

  I moved to the kitchen and set my bag on the counter. My stamina was wasted on fighting that Nephilim when I should have saved it for this. Who knows why he’s here, but he was alone, so I guess that meant he didn’t bring his people here to kill me.

  “Out with Cindy,” my voice deadpan. He didn’t deserve any more of an explanation.

  He didn’t speak, and I didn’t know what else to say. I mean, he disappeared without a word for days, and now he’s here standing in front of me, with the nerve to demand answers to my whereabouts? I wanted to be angry, but at the same time, I just didn’t have the mental strength. What I truly wanted was for someone to hug me, to tell me things were going to be all right. That tonight wasn’t entirely my fault – even though I knew it is.

  I let out a slow, shaky breath, using the counter for stability as I tried to keep myself together. I have never felt so lost and so alone than in this moment. All this supernatural ability lying dormant under my skin, and I was the only one who knew about it. I couldn’t tell Cindy – she was human, she wouldn’t believe me, and it would ruin everything I’ve started to build with her. I can’t tell Micah – I can’t trust him, I don’t know what he’d do if he found out there was even more wrong with me.

  Tonight, someone was killed because of me: a Nephilim like Micah. One of his people. I glowed violet with such immense power I literally collapsed the walls around me and nearly killed hundreds of people. My lip began to quiver, and my chin shook as I felt my shoulders curl in. I can’t break now, not with Micah here. I can’t let him know something is going on with me; he’ll start asking questions. If he finds out, he’ll kill me without a second thought. I took a few steady breaths before straightening up and promising myself I would let it out later.

  “What do you want, Micah?” I asked, opening up one of the cabinets in search of something to eat. I wasn’t even hungry.

  “Hospitality isn’t your strong suit.”

  “You left days ago without a word.” I slam the door to the cabinet, and he flinched at the sound. My fear and sadness morphed into something dark and rage-filled. I had too much raw emotion to keep bottled up. “You left after something dramatic and unexplainable happened to me.” I stomped across the space between us and poked a finger at him. “Not you, me. It happened to me, and you just left.” I really didn’t want to be near him, despite getting in his face. Twisting on my heels, I moved across the living room to get away from him in the small apartment. “Obviously not a single care as to how I would handle it on my own, since you stayed away for five friggin’ days. I figured you were gone for good, or if you did come back, it would be with your people to kill me. So if you’re back, and alone, that means you want or need something from me. Am I wrong?” Micah said nothing, and I didn’t bother turning around. It was true: I was angry for him leaving, but all this hostility was just me redirecting the anger and fear I had for myself. I huffed, clenching my jaw, and put out the fire in my heart.

  My head still replayed the purple glow, the vibration in my body, and the man being crushed into nothing. If I told Micah I killed one of his people, he’d kill me on the spot. I couldn’t tell him about what happened now. It’s not about trust anymore; it’s about survival.

  Peering behind me, I found Micah studying me. His hands slowly moved from his sides to the pockets of his jacket. Once he noticed me watching him, his gaze shifted to his feet, where he proceeded to tap one against the other, knocking the dirt off the bottom and onto the floor.

  “I had to do more research, see if I could find anything on a species like you. There isn’t anything in the books we have. I researched that word, Trigenus, and found nothing. I did research on Orias, and I found him.” His tone was robotic. His eyes were closed as he leaned against the wall near the door, his head tilted toward the ceiling. It was a pattern with him whenever the conversation got too personal or emotional. He didn’t apologize, but he did give a reason. That was probably the best I was ever going to get with Micah.

  “You found him,” I repeated, downplaying my interest, still bitter from our last interaction.

  “He has a corner booth every night at a place called Aria Lounge, out by the interstate. I need to lure him out.”

  I leaned against the windowsill. It sounded crazy. Beyond crazy. “You want me to be bait,” I said. “Why can’t you do it?”

  “I can’t get as close as you can. You’re a Cambion and a woman, so it’s less suspicious. If he knows a Nephilim is close, he’ll disappear and we won’t be able to get more information on The Rising.” He pulled his hands from his pockets as he brought his cell phone to his face, reading a message on the tiny glowing device.

  I so badly wanted to tell him no, that I wasn’t ready to interact with anyone else from this world yet. Why should I agree to help him? Why should I put myself through this for him? Would this uprising his speaks of affect me at all? The memory of that security guard falling to his knees before me came to the front of my mind, and my breath hitched. I crossed my arms, pulling them in tight. Do I have the right to deny him when I was responsible for the death of one of his people? That could have been Micah, I could have killed him and I would have never forgiven myself for it. Damn it.

  “I’ll be there; you just won’t see me. If you get him to follow you home, I can grab him in the alley and take care of him from there,” he explained.

  “I don’t have anything to wear.” I didn’t want to be some Cambion harlot, but I didn’t really have an excuse not to be. I did say once before that I wanted to help, that I wanted Micah to see me as an equal. After tonight, I also needed to repent for my actions, even if it wasn’t entirely my fault. That could have been Micah in the library. I glanced at him sideways. He was typing on his phone, not noticing my indecisiveness. He probably couldn’t care less.

  Yet here I am, wanting a hug from him even after all he has put me through. Just a glimpse made me weak enough to do whatever he asked of me because of what I did tonight, and because of these underlying feelings for him I couldn’t shake. The guilt was an unforgiving, savage beast.

  He counted cash from his pocket and held it out to me. “This should cover it. I’ll be here tomorrow evening around six. Be ready.” I didn’t take it so he set it on counter and walked toward the door.

  Maybe I wasn’t the only one who thought I was expendable.

  “Thanks for being so kind to me. You really know how to make someone feel good,” I snapped. He paused as he opened the door then closed it behind him without a word.

  Twelve.

  I WALKED BACK TO THE plus-size section of Kohl’s, where the clothes get visibly more depressing compared to the general woman’s clothing area. Damn these mother-bearing hips of mine. How much money did Micah actually give me? I pulled the wad out of my purse and counted the 50s. He really wants me to look good. I suddenly felt the pressure. I’m mediocre at best, and more awkward than a dolphin learning sign language. How am I supposed to make this demon follow me home? I combed the racks but didn’t see anything not covered in floral patterns. I should wear black. Sliming on everyone, and would create a great mysterious vibe when paired with my ebony hair and dark eyes, right?

  By the fourth rack, I was discouraged. These clothes would either not make me sexy, or Micah wouldn’t approve – meaning, not sexy enough. Out of desperation, I picked up a flowing black dress with a belt and a small, deep purple dress I knew wouldn’t fit me. What if neither of these fit? What do I tell Micah? I’m not hot, I’m sorry, you would honestly have a better chance seducing him. He probably would, too, if I was being truthful. I will most likely fail miserably.

  The first dress fit fine, something I could see myself going out to dinner in. I slouched. Will I ever go out to dinner? Will I ever be on a date? I shook off the questions that might lead to a life crisis and focused again on the racks. I pulled on the purple one. It was super tight, but when I turned to look in the mirror, I found myself smiling. This one showed more than I was OK with when it
comes to curves, but I guess that meant it’s the one. It looked good from the side, except for my small boobs, and when I faced forward, forget it: my hips looked huge.

  It was already noon, and I needed to get back home to shower before Micah showed up. True, he’s coming at six, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up early, expecting me to be ready. I sped over to the shoe department and walked right to the heels, making myself turn away from the flats. I read once in “Cosmopolitan” that sophisticated girls wore painful heels, not flats. Heels made the butt look better. Most of the heels were way too high for me to walk in. I tried on a black pair with spikes coming off the heel, but one step and I tumbled into the shoe shelf. Immediately I kicked them off. I found a pair of black suede, thin Mary Jane strappy heels a bit shorter than the others, and I could somewhat walk back and forth in them. I rushed to the front of the store to check out.

  The department store was crowded as I walked through the jewelry department. My claustrophobia threatened to lash out as I moved through the chaos, squeezing in between people and bumped into racks. I suddenly spotted a black medallion necklace with matching earrings. It looked very modern vampire. I snatched it up without so much as slowing down. Walked past the purses toward the checkout, a black satin clutch caught my eye. I grabbed it as I continued to walk. Might as well use most of the money he gave me; he’ll likely ask for the rest back.

  “That will be $164.57,” said the older gentleman behind the counter, with more wrinkles than expired fruit. I handed him the cash as he bagged my items. “Have a date tonight?” he asked with a smile.

  “Something like that,” I said, nodding.

  With the receipt and my bags, I ran up to the bus currently stopped at the bus stop. “Does this go past 58th Street?” The large driver sitting behind the wheel filing her nails looked into the air for a moment to recall, then responded with a yes.

  Back at home, the hot water calmed my nerves as I shampooed my hair and thought of a plan for tonight. I had never done this before, so how do I seduce a demon? Or anyone, for that matter? Does Micah expect me to just know how to do this? He has to know how awkward I can be. Impending doom filled the steam around me. Searching for anything that might help, I reverted to movies I’d seen about this kind of thing. It was usually men seducing woman – like James Bond, or Will Smith from Hitch – so how was I supposed to do it as a woman? Should I just be forward and walk up to him and be like, ‘Sup, big daddy?’ I howled in amusement at myself. I would probably break out laughing before I got the word daddy out.

  I got out of the shower to find Lux standing by his food bowl squinting at me. I had forgotten to feed them this morning. I threw some food in their bowl, more than I should have, and decided to eat as well. I thought I deserved my favorite, the one I had been saving: the chicken, broccoli, and noodles with alfredo sauce. I breathed in the smell as I watched it turn on its lit pedestal in the microwave.

  “Yum yum in my tum tum,” I sang over and over. The microwave alerted me to dinnertime with three beeps. I took the dish out without letting it cool and ate fast. I hadn’t noticed how hungry I was. After this, I’d have to get ready for the night, and I didn’t think I’d be hungry for a long time afterwards.

  ✽✽✽

  I finished getting ready a half hour before Micah was supposed to arrive. I didn’t have a full-length mirror to see my outfit all put together, but I felt like a sex worker. My dress was so tight it basically looked painted on, not to mention the super-risqué amount of leg I was showing. No one would think twice if I walked up to them and asked if they were looking for a good time. I put on some darker makeup, trying to look more seductive, but I worried I only resembled a clown. I made sure to use the green goo Micah gave me to cover my onyx markings, but something told me this demon would be able to tell who I was regardless. I didn’t want to get cat hair all over my clothes and didn’t want to stand in my heels for 30 minutes waiting, so I sat on the counter. As I strapped on my shoes, I noticed Nox sitting below, regarding me intently. ​

  “Don’t think about coming up here.” I pointed at him. He licked his lips and walked back to the bedroom where Lux was most likely already asleep. As I sat there in the quiet, my mind slowed, and that’s when I felt the tiredness again. My body was wired, but my mind was exhausted, like I hadn’t slept in days, though my body had. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to help Micah, though I knew I owed him: I owed him because despite what he saw that night, his attention to the slight difference in my demonic appearance kept him from killing me. He took a chance, and now I have to take one: I have to trust him, and I’m not sure I’m ready to. I also need to make up for that man at the Boys and Girls Club who never made it out, the one who is no doubt dead now. Micah doesn’t know about it, but I still feel the need to repent, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me.

  My skin grew warm and flushed a moment later, and I knew it was because Micah was close by. After another minute or two, he opened the locked door and looked out into the apartment, not noticing me on the counter.

  “You made yourself a key to my apartment?” I asked.

  He showed little surprise. “Didn’t see you there,” he said. I scooted off the counter and met him at the door. He scanned my frame. Though it was quick, it left me vulnerable. I adjusted my dress and could see him still surveying me, something clouded in his eyes I couldn’t read.

  “Just say it.”

  “Excuse me?” He asked, perplexed.

  “I look like a prostitute, Micah. I know you want to say something rude,” I said, a hand on my hip.

  He cracked a smile and shook his head. “If there is such a prostitute who is modest, and wears matching jewelry.” He stepped closer, close enough to smell his warm vanilla essence, and pushed a stray hair from my forehead. My mouth went dry with the action. Micah wore a black, loose-fitting sports jacket with matching pants and dress shoes.

  “You look nice,” I said. Though, to be honest, I liked his tighter fitting outfits. Micah stepped back at my words, and I suddenly regretted them.

  “Here’s your ID for the night. Leave your real one here.” He handed me a plastic card with the photo from my real ID, but showing my age as 21. I’m definitely keeping this one. “Leave any other cards that have your real name on them as well. You can use what’s left of the cash I gave you.”

  Micah turned to the side as he opened the door, motioning me to walk through. When we got outside, there was a gray Honda parked in front, with the word Taxi printed on the side. “Where’s the driver?” I asked, scanning the sidewalk. Micah walked to the back door and opened it for me. I studied him for a moment and snorted. “You’re the driver?”

  A crooked smile formed on his lips as I stepped into the back seat. He got behind the wheel and started it, taking off toward the lounge. I met his eyes in the rearview mirror.

  “How did you get this taxi?”

  “The Nephilim are very resourceful,” he said.

  “So, before we get there, I have a question. How exactly do I one, get him to notice me, and two, come home with me?” I stared at the back of his head intently as I waited for a response. Micah rolled his eyes as he huffed in what I assumed was annoyance.

  “Really, you’re going to sigh like you’re disappointed? I don’t do this kind of thing,” I snapped, I almost rubbed my face, ruining my makeup, but caught myself in time. “I’ve never even been on a date before.” I should have never agreed to this in the first place.

  “I was hoping you knew something about it.” He reply was clipped, his lips forming into a hard line as I watched him in the rearview mirror. His hands gripped the wheel tighter as he checked his mirrors.

  “Well, I’m sorry, I’m not the confident actress you wanted me to be.”

  Our conversation fell short, the soft music playing on the radio swelled. The piano grew more intense as the singer belted out her pain. The Honda smelled like fresh leather, and judging by the seats, it wasn’t used often. This
was going to end so badly, and all I could do was hold on and hope Micah would be there, hope he would pull me from any harm if it came to that.

  “So, here’s the plan, then.” Micah detailed how I’d sit at the bar and ask the bartender what the guy in the corner booth was having. He described Orias as a man with a dark complexion, black hair, and yellow irises. Micah’s informers had told him Orias would be smoking out of a blue hookah with women sitting on either side of him. I’d tell the bartender I wanted to buy the man a drink, but I shouldn’t look over as he delivered it. The bartender would tell me Orias wanted to meet me, and this was my in. I’d flirt with him, and since this was all make-believe, I wouldn’t have to think of the real consequences of asking him to come home with me. I’d tell him I had something at my place we’d both like, something to pique his interest but stay mysterious. He’d follow me, and when we got close to my apartment, Micah would grab him.

  He spotted me in the rearview mirror, no doubt noting the color had drained from my face. I felt nauseated. “When you’re ready to go, I want you to play with your necklace. That will signal me to go get the car. Once outside, you guys can get in my taxi.” Despite his irritation from before he sounded as if he’d thought this through.

  “You’re going to be there.” The inside of my mouth was tacky. “And I’m supposed to just –” I wiped my clammy palms on my thighs. How was this supposed to work when I wasn’t even confident enough to make prolonged eye contact with anyone? “Can’t we do this another night, maybe regroup –”

  “There is no doing it again,” he said. I stared at the back of Micah’s head in awe, wondering how I’d let things spin out of control like this. How did it get this far when I was against the idea this whole time?

  We pulled up to a building where the words Aria Lounge were spelled in illuminated pink lights. I swallowed hard and opened the door. Longing for some last-minute advice, I caught Micah’s glance in the rearview mirror, but knew it’d be pointless. He said nothing.