“Oh, Creator.” A loud, frustrated sigh followed the exclamation. “Don’t pay her any mind. We aren’t going to hurt you,” came the voice from before, the other male. “Clara is just warming up to you. Isn’t that right?”
“Shut up, Seven, before I break both of your legs…again.”
As for him, now that the music had stopped, he was regaining more control over his body. His legs began to feel like something other than wet noodles. The heaviness was still thick on his body, like he was made of lead, but his vision was clearing. Clara must have known that because she jerked Aiden out of the car and shoved him roughly towards the sidewalk. He stumbled and she caught him, but nothing about it was gentle. Aiden began to think that Clara wasn’t warming up to him…to anything.
He blinked a few times, clearing the last of the fog in his vision, and looked up. It was a warehouse.
George’s Tire World?
A woman with long bright red hair, dark lipstick, and dark eyes, saddled up to him right as they approached the warehouse door, slipping her arm around his waist and pulling him from Clara. “Are you nervous? Don’t be nervous. This is going to be romantic!”
He recognized her voice and connected her to the name “Sheeda.” Aiden tried his mouth. “Ro– romantic?” Aiden licked his lips. “This isn’t romantic. Can you just let me go? If you do, I can help you,” he tried.
Sheeda tilted her head. “Now, you know I can’t do that, sugar,” she said, tapping his nose with a ruby manicured finger. “You sure are popular! There are a lot of people who are looking for you. People who want to use you. Of course…we want to use you too. Me, especially,” she whispered, grinning. “But this is a war. So with this battle, we’re the winners because we got you! Yay, right?”
Aiden didn’t share her enthusiasm. “Who is we?” Aiden asked, eyeing the blue door. The driver was standing in front of it, shuffling through keys nonchalantly, grinning when he found the correct one. He was a funny looking dude, standing out even in a city where that was hard to accomplish. It had to be the Mohawk, the red eyeliner and the thick leather pants he wore–in the middle of spring.
“That’s a lot to explain. Once we get that head of yours straight, then I’ll explain everything… although, you might not want to be my friend once we’re done,” Sheeda finished, pouting. “Want to be more than friends?”
“Sheeda!” the driver said, exasperated, as he opened the door. “For The Creator’s sake, relax!”
She giggled. “Kevin is just jealous.”
“Sure, that’s what it is,” Kevin huffed, rolling his eyes. “Jealously.”
They led him through the warehouse entrance and Aiden could see that it was a two-part building. While he was sure the big metal roof section was a warehouse, the place he was looked more like a shelter. There was a board full of information such as job postings, soup kitchen locations, and a room assignment map. Another blue metal door with a sign that read OFFICE was to the left of him, and if they kept going straight, it would lead them down a very long hallway.
They went left and through the office door. He was greeted with a large but plain room, Spartan and unimpressionable. The office smelt dank and the air was thick with the smell of stale cigarette smoke. There was a long green couch, the back of it towards them, with rips in the fabric. In the corner was a tall military style locker, and along the wall, a small kitchenette. The only other pieces of furniture in the office were a card table pressed up against the wall and a folded up chair parked next to it.
Kevin walked over to the card table, grabbed the chair, and placed it in the middle of the office. “Sit,” he said, his head jutting towards the chair.
“Look,” Aiden said as he stood taller, hoping that the intimidating aura he tended to give off would help him. “I’m not sure who you people are but I’m sure you know that I’m a federal agent and–”
Kevin tsked at him. “You’re on leave remember? You have no gun and you have no badge.”
“That does not change the fact that I am a government official and there are laws, serious laws that you are breaking by kidnapping me!”
“Another technicality. Is it really kidnapping if you jumped in my car?”
Aiden frowned. “Yes, moron.”
“Great,” she hissed, her tone irritated. Clara flashed a pair of brown eyes at Kevin and Seven as she ran a hand through her pale blond hair. The same tattoo that was on the back of Kevin’s hand was on the back of her’s. “Now he has his tongue back.” She placed a hand on Aiden’s shoulder and pushed him down until he was sitting. “Get up if you want to. I dare you.” When Aiden moved to stand again, she pushed her navy blue jacket back, revealing a very dangerous looking silver Glock. “Don’t get brave, cowboy,” she warned.
Aiden inhaled, deep, filling his lungs and mind with patience, all in an attempt to keep his anger in check and decided that instead of trying to muscle his way out of the situation he could try and cooperate to de-escalate it. As he sat, Clara removed one of the handcuffs and repositioned it around the arm of the chair before slapping it back around his wrist, making sure they were tight enough he didn’t try to move again. She turned to Sheeda. “You’re no Del, but hurry up, make him talk. We can’t linger around here too long; the Fox runt has been following him around town.”
Sheeda pulled a face. “Not talk. Remember.”
“Whatever! Just do it,” Clara whined.
The two men exited the room, leaving him with Clara and Sheeda. Clara moved next to a back door, her eyes sparking with threat. Sheeda stood in front of him, her long black figure-hugging dress and high heel boots filling his vision before she crouched down in front of him.
“We are going to make this easy, okay, doll face? I’m going to ask you some questions. If you answer correctly, I’ll let you go. Then you can run straight to the police and tell them about wittle ole me “kidnapping” you? Deal?”
“Not that I believe you, but I don’t really have a choice, do I?”
Sheeda sighed then smiled. “She picked someone so smart, too. I’m going to be so sad when you remember!”
Aiden had no idea who this “she” they kept referring to was or what he needed to remember. He’d ask but at this point, he was sure Sheeda was deranged.
“Do you,” Sheeda started as she ran a hand up and down his thigh, “remember what you were doing on October 4th at eleven-forty two p.m.?”
What a weird question. It had been around six months since then, but it was not so far back that he shouldn’t remember. But, he realized with dawning horror, that he couldn’t. He couldn’t remember the night at all. Not even a smidgen of a memory.
“I,” he frowned. “I must have…”
Sheeda’s smile softened and her head tilted as if she pitied him. “It’s okay if you don’t remember.” She stood and circled him like a shark would its prey. “There’s a lot you won’t remember, such as…the fact that for four years you lived in Apartment 4c.” Aiden had heard that before because he’d spent half the afternoon trying to correct a detective who believed the same thing. He even had his lease papers faxed over to dispute the fact.
“No. That’s incorrect. I’ve lived in apartment 3c since I came to New York.”
“Is that right?” Sheeda said as she circled back in front of him. “Do you remember why you moved to New York in the first place?”
“Of course. I was working a case.”
“Why would you be working a case in New York when your jurisdiction is in Seoul?” Aiden was silent, refusing to explain, but Sheeda tapped him on his nose as if any answer he gave wouldn’t have been sufficient. “Think, Aiden. Think of everything. All the questions you’ve had. All of the doubts. Why something seems missing. Why everything seems scrambled and rearranged. Why Jon looks at you sometimes and you can’t understand what’s reflecting in his eyes.”
“How do you know Jon–?”
“Jin Amaris,” she wondered out loud. “Do you remember Jin Amaris?”
; Aiden looked down, wincing as a headache formed right over his eye. “She…she was a witness. Testified for the state against…the um…,” he shook his head to clear it, “the Five Star Mob. But…she’s dead. She died. Retribution murder.”
Clara laughed, the sound heavy in the silent empty office. “Oh, they really fucked you up, didn’t they?”
“Are you surprised?” Sheeda asked, her voice sad. “They only care about the bottom line. The ends justifying the means. You should be so much more than an unintentional roadblock to what they really want. You’re a human. We protect humans.”
“Not all of them apparently,” Clara disagreed, staring at Aiden.
“Why do you all know so much about me?” Aiden asked, turning away from Clara.
“Because we care, Aiden,” Sheeda declared, looking at him with sympathy, maybe pity. “Everyone you know has been lying to you.”
Aiden’s anxiety returned but it was hope, not adrenaline. He had questions…he’d always had them. He just didn’t know what questions to ask. They were always right there, at the edge of his mind, on the tip of his tongue–what he should say, who he should look for to answer them, but they would flutter away before he could grasp them. If these people could tell him something…anything, he’d take it! “Explain,” he pleaded, “Why does it feel like everything in my life is wrong?”
“It is wrong!” Sheeda cooed. “But we’re here to help you, baby. Help you remember! Help you understand why they would separate you from the woman you love and help you get back to her! She’s being held someplace and there are people who can help you. They want to help you. They are waiting for you to ask!”
“The…woman I love?” The headache intensified the longer he listened.
“Yes.” She caressed his face and kissed his forehead. “The woman who died for you.”
CHAPTER SIX
Location: Unknown
Time: Unknown
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick...tock.
Jin gasped, inhaling after what seemed like an eternity of her holding her breath. Glut’s waves had knocked her off her feet and dragged her under. She tried to fight it, to resist its pull, resist its power pulling her down,
down,
down.
Everything was blue, everything was black. She opened her eyes. She saw nothing but white.
She was dry, no longer surrounded by water and darkness and a desperation to breathe. She was safe. She couldn’t help the note of
unsurety rising at the end of that sentence. She was safe? She…was safe? Her muscles pulled, sharp and painful, when she tried to move, and she groaned as she sat up in her bed, her movements slow and groggy. She looked around, blinking because of the brightness of the room.
It was her room, her and Aiden’s room.
Aiden.
The thought of him washed over her like a warm breeze, coloring the room beige for a faint moment. Would she ever get to see him again? Did he miss her? She reached beside her and caressed the sheets, where she expected champagne softness to be. It wasn’t. It was their exact room, down to the blinds…except everything was white.
The sound of the ticking caught her attention. Her gaze dragged across the white walls until they landed on a large clock, white as its surroundings except for the grey, metal hands. The clock was useless, the hands moving bizarrely, speeding up and slowing down, sometimes standing still, sometimes moving so fast that all Jin could see was a blur. Still, the steady rhythmic sound of ticking was prevalent.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
The ticking scared her. Nothing good came from that sound, nothing. Her hand came to her chest.
The pain was fierce and white hot. Her chest felt like it had been set on fire.
When she pulled it away, her hand was dry, and there was no red staining her palm. Aria healed me. Remembering, her eyes darted around the room, erratically.
Where was Aria? She was on the bridge. She was on the bridge with me and then the wave came.
Her panic heightened, towering over her like a giant with a club in its hand, ready to bash her head in. Where is–
Jin's panic was interrupted, sharply, when the sound of a something mechanical buzzed above her head. She tilted her head back and looked up. Two clear panes of glass, wide as her bed, descended from the ceiling, the sound of mechanisms whirring and gears turning high above until they came to a gentle pause in front of her. The screens switched on and the glare made her squint and shield her eyes. When the brightness dimmed, Jin peeked through her fingers. A person appeared, the image emanating between the screens, and Jin remembered the face.
A holographic screen floated over the fountain, a friendly female face centered over the continuously scrolling words. A History; The Gospel of High Caeli.
The same face and the same words appeared before her. The woman’s modulated voice began to fill the room with sound.
“And the angels who did not keep their positions of authority but abandoned their proper dwelling—these he has kept in darkness, bound with everlasting chains for judgment on The Great Day.”
The screen filled with an image of angels amongst humans on every corner of the Earth, the only signifier of their race was a glowing fleur-de-lis across their backs.
“Two hundred Caelian years after the Angelic Decree, Khavah Dantò, Divine Matriarch of the Twelve Noble families of the Glory Beyond, spoke with The Creator, encouraging them to reverse the Judgment Day curse and allow Nephilim and Root Watchers a home. From there, she became the Great Mother, and The Creator allowed her to rule over the dominion of Pure.”
The image switched again, this time showing the dominion Pure. It was very plain looking; quite the opposite of what Jin would imagine a heavenly world to look like. It reminded her of the desert, hot and scorched, the sands red and the land dry.
“Pure was split into three realms; Caeli, Antris, and Discord. In addition to Gaia, The Earthen Plane, Nephilim were only given access to those three amongst the thousands of others. The Great Mother, with her duties in The Glory Beyond, chose four descendants of the Twelve Noble families. Their duty, when they became of age, was to descend to Caeli and serve as The Above–the High Commanders.”
The woman paused and looked right at Jin. “Continue?”
Jin hesitated before nodding.
“Antris and Discord were left whole while Caeli was split into four territories. Elysian was made the capital of Caeli, the new center of civilization for Root Watchers, Nephilim and their mates. Through The Above, Elysian became a thriving metropolis and military hub for what would later come: The Fallen Council, The Mutare Ranks, and MATE. Aeon Terra, the bordering territory was left uncultivated, to remain as it was, while Later Ụwa became the home of the E’phors and was transformed into a tropical landscape, full of danger and mystics. Au Courant became the seat of rule for The Above.”
The voice paused again. Instead of the option to continue, the screen filled with faces floating over blue rippling water. “Choose,” she commanded.
Jin scanned the faces, recognizing some, such as the faces of The Above. She sneered at them for a long withering moment before she moved on. Others, like the face of the woman who’d scared her at the Dome, Mishil, she recognized with faint remembrance, like people who’d seen each other in passing enough to know that they knew each other, but not how or when or why. Towards the bottom, she landed on a category entitled “Leaders of The Fallen.” Of the many selections available, four were highlighted, the last four in a long line of others. One face she didn’t recognize at all. The name “Shemhazi no Semjâzâ–the Ewe” was centered under him. The last two she remembered as well because she’d seen them at the graduation but it was from across the Dome floor, so the recognition was hazy at best. The names “Kano Dantò –The Griffith” and “Penume Labbim–The Dialect” were under their faces. But it was the face sandwiched in between Shemhazi and Kano that resonated with Jin the most. It was the face in her dreams, the face she’d seen on t
he bridge, the last face she saw after Ahn stabbed her.
Aria.
Without another moment’s hesitation, Jin jabbed her finger on Aria’s picture. It bloomed to a full-size portrait of her, equipped with wings as she gazed over a rocky cliff, looking every bit of a warrior angel. Her long twisted hair hung over her shoulder and the hilt of a sword poked out between the thick strands.
They say that if you saw yourself in person you wouldn’t recognize yourself. It made sense–the only time we really see our faces is in the reflection of a mirror or on the gloss of a photograph. The digital age said you can even view it in 3D but, no, you wouldn’t recognize your own face in a crowd. Yet, this was different. She did recognize her own face–the soft lines of her cheekbones, her full lips, and the point of her chin. It was her face.
“Aria Jinni of Kokabiel–The Lioness,” the woman said, the sound resonating around the room. “The Pedagogue, Sekhmet Reborn and Former Leader of The Fallen. Honorary Nonpareil, Rank 5, Inactive. Born to Seraphim angel Yofiel and Seraphim angel Selene Okoro of the Eliyah clan. Siblings, none. Mate, Choe Yeong. Children: [CLASSIFIED]. Former Residence, Aeon Terra. Killed in Caelian year 97005. Buried on Antris at Choe Yeong’s request.”
The voice stopped and four options appeared on the screen: Aeon Terra Raid, The Battle of Blood Bay, The Defection of Azrael no Semjâzâ, and The Treaty of Mercy. Jin reached out to touch the one that read "The Aeon Terra Raid" and the screen flashed “[CLASSIFIED].” Jin grimaced. She glanced at the one next to it–The Defection of Azrael no Semjâzâ–and her finger hovered over the screen but she paused and withdrew her hand when her bedroom door creaked open. As unhurried as it had lowered, the screen began to ascend back towards the ceiling, disappearing behind a set of hatch doors that Jin was sure had never been installed in her real apartment.
A woman stood in the doorframe and stared at her, devoid of emotion, as if Jin were a science experiment she wanted to hypothesize upon and test and take apart and cut into. She was the color of shifted black sand and her obsidian complexion contrasted with the white backdrop that was Jin’s room like black kanji on rice paper.
A Third of the Moon and the Stars Struck Page 6
