Instruments of the Angels (Hallows & Nephilim: Waters Dark and Deep #1)

by Monica Leonelle

  She could feel Rykken breathing softly next to her, could practically hear him trying to solve her in his mind. Her stomach twisted with dread; she had a feeling Rykken wouldn’t let go of his question about her whereabouts. He would corner her after class and demand that she told him where she had gone. And then, he would rat her out to her brother.

  When the class ended, she bolted out of her seat so she could be the first one out the door and hopefully disappear into the sea of students in the hallways, before Rykken could catch up to her.

  “Brie!” she heard him call out. Blood rushed through her body as she dodged between two students, hoping the halls would fill up before he could reach her.

  “Brie, you left your notebook.”

  She stopped, torn between not wanting him to have her notebook, and not wanting to get interrogated by him.

  You should talk to him anyway, a small voice in her head said. Avoiding her brother’s best buddy wasn’t going to stop him from telling said brother what he’d seen earlier that day. She was the only one who could convince him not to.

  She turned around slowly, facing Rykken as he cut across hallway traffic to reach her.

  “You left this in class,” he said breathlessly. “What is it? A poetry book or something?”

  Oh, no, she thought, mortified. “Did you read my notebook?"

  “Not purposely,” he said, holding up a page. “This just fell out.”

  She took the piece of paper from his hand.

  She was a winter violet

  He burned orange like the sun

  And when she tried to bloom for him he knew it wasn’t done

  “Who is this about?” he asked. He seemed genuinely curious, but she still felt upset that he had read her notebook at all, even if it wasn’t his fault. Her cheeks grew hot. She couldn’t believe she had been so careless.

  “Old boyfriend?” he asked hesitantly.

  “No,” she said quickly, because she definitely didn’t want that to get back to her brother. He wasn’t exactly pleasant to her potential suitors, and usually scared them away before they could even ask her out.

  “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Not a real one, anyway.” She shrugged uncomfortably. She didn’t know why Rykken was asking about this. She didn’t know why his full attention on her was making her so nervous again. “It’s just a… a love story,” she explained, reading through the words on the paper again. "A sad one.”

  His eyes narrowed, but not unkindly. “It has a good ending, doesn’t it?”

  She frowned. “She never becomes what he deserves,” she pointed out.

  “But he never stops loving her. He never gives up.”

  “They’re just lyrics,” she said, pulling the notebook from his hands and stuffing the piece of paper between the folds. “I have journals full of them. None of them mean anything. They’re like… doodles.”

  His eyes followed her, like this somehow fascinated him. “How many songs have you written?”

  “None,” she admitted. “I see… little scenes dancing in my head. Specific emotions and colors. I can’t explain them exactly—I just try to describe them on paper. But I don’t know how to write songs, not like my dad. These are more like snippets, seconds suspended in time. I never finish them.”

  She didn’t know why she was explaining this to him. She had never explained it to anyone else, but Rykken seemed so interested, it had just rolled out of her.

  “Maybe you should finish them,” he said softly.

  “Maybe.”

  She looked up, realizing that the hallway was thinning out, and they were nearly the only two who hadn’t made any progress toward their next classes. “Listen,” she said. “You and I both know that Pilot will kill me if he finds out that I cut school at lunch.”

  “About that,” he said, shifting from one foot to the other. He seemed serious now, all business, completely different from just a second earlier. “Are you going to tell me where you went? Who that blonde girl was?”

  “She was nobody,” Brie said. “And I—it was stupid. I’ve been having a tough day—“

  “Because of the Zoey Fromme story?” he asked.

  “Exactly,” she said, trying not to blush. It was incredibly embarrassing that he knew about that… and if he knew, Pilot had surely heard too. "I just wanted to get away, you know? So I got lunch off campus with a few cool girls I met.”

  He pursed his lips, watching her. “It seemed like you were chasing someone.”

  She still wasn’t sure exactly what Clara did, but she wondered if she could get Clara to completely wipe this day from Rykken’s memories… if only to keep her from wondering if he was thinking about her chest.

  “I—I don’t know who she was,” Brie admitted. “But you told her that you thought you knew her.” Rykken’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.

  “What did you mean by that?” she asked, now curious.

  He was silent for a moment, as if he had to think his answer over. Finally, he spoke. “She looked familiar, but only because she looked like you.” He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his backpack.

  Brie frowned, confounded by this information. Her own blonde doppelganger? “She was no one,” she reassured him. “It was just a coincidence that she was there at the same time.” She paused, looking down. “I was wondering if you could just… not mention it to Pilot?"

  Now it was Rykken’s turn to frown. “I’m not going to lie to you brother for you.”

  “Not a lie,” Brie said. “Look, no one knows that I left, and Pilot already worries about me so much. What’s the point of him worrying about this, too?”

  A warning bell signaled to them that they had a minute left to get to their next classes.

  Rykken sighed. “I won’t tell anyone.” He looked worried. “If you’re in trouble—“

  “I’m not,” she said quickly. Her face flushed as she shook her head. “I’m sorry I made you late to class.”

  Rykken shook his head. “You can always talk to me, Brie.”

  The way he said her name gave her both a jittery stomach and chilled skin at the same time. “Thanks for this. And thanks for returning my notebook.”

  Before he could say anything else, she turned and walked in the other direction, hoping she was trusting the right people.

  As she walked to her next class, she replayed everything that Rykken had said. She needed to know more about the blonde girl still. Someone who looked like her, like her mother? It was too much to be a coincidence.

  She was more sure now than ever that blonde girl had the answers she was looking for.

  Chapter 9 - Pilot

  Milena walked up the steps toward the club with the huge neon sign, Trinitas. She stood in line, waiting for the bouncer to let her through.

  Each person in the line before her pressed his or her index finger to a pad the bouncer was holding. He nodded once, letting each of them in, one after the other.

  When Milena reached the front of the line, she pressed her finger to the pad ever so carefully, making sure that not a drop of her own blood escaped. She wore a thin layer under her finger, pre-filled with the blood of another.

  The bouncer nodded her in.

  She made her way through the club, past the front bar lined with stools and seedy men, each one who turned to leer at her, looking her up and down with obviousness.

  She passed the booths where people were drinking, laughing, and having a good time.

  She took the stairs down, walked past another two bars, through another weave of booths, until she reached a second bouncer.

  “I need an audience with a hunter,” she told him—as she always did, every single night.

  His mom separated from him, jumping in front of him. She turned around, making eye contact with him. “We need to find Sigh Reh Nah,” she whispered.

  She charged ahead of him, and he ran after her down the winding and twisted hallways. He knew what was coming next, if he couldn’t keep up. He knew she would disappear
on him.

  “Wait!” he called after her. “Mom, stop, please!” He pushed himself, forcing his legs forward. “Don’t leave me,” he begged her.

  She turned again, laughing. “Follow me,” she commanded.

  “I can’t,” he told her. “You’re running too fast, I can’t keep up.”

  “You have to follow if you wish to lead,” she told him playfully. He hadn’t seen her eyes light up like that in real life for so long, he knew he had to be dreaming.

  “I don’t know what that means,” he told her.

  She shrugged her shoulders, just as she always did. She started running again, and he pushed himself after her, though it felt like he was pushing against a torrential wind to get to her.

  He thought back to what Justin had said earlier that day. Trust me, you need to get rid of these dreams.

  “Just tell me why,” he yelled after her angrily, as she pulled ahead of him, so close to disappearing into the darkness again. “Why do I keep dreaming about you? How do I let you go?” He stood up, opening his mouth wider. “How do I make it stop?”

  “Stop?” she repeated, as if she was confused. Her voice dipped to a whisper. “Do not fear the unveiling, my son.”

  He shot up in his bed, his sheets and pillowcase damp from his sweat. Every portion of his dream was the same as it ever was, except for the last part.

  Do not fear the unveiling, my son.

  Unveiling of what?!

  He was officially freaked out, now.

  He threw his comforter and sheets off, completely awake. He walked into his attached private bathroom and twisted some knobs in the shower. He stripped down completely, stepped in, and let the lukewarm water run over his face and head for a minute.

  Do not fear the unveiling, my son.

  He felt absolutely crazy, puzzling over seven simple words. He had gone through his dream so many times, over and over again, to the point where he had it memorized. It played out in the same vivid detail every few nights and always ended before his mom reached her destination.

  He always lost sight of her.

  And neither of them had ever gone off-script, until now.

  The unveiling… the unveiling of what?

  He finished soaping and rinsing himself and turned the water off. He reached for a towel, wrapping it around his waist as he stepped over to the mirror.

  He had given up trying to interpret the dreams before, but this new information had completely blown his mind.

  He could control the dream… he could maybe even reach the end destination in it,... if he could only figure out the right questions to ask his mother.

  It was like there were locked boxes within boxes. He just needed to use the right keys to go deeper.

  Or… maybe it was like Justin said, and he was reading way too much into all of this. Maybe he was giving over his mind to something that he had made up entirely by himself. Maybe the whole thing was just a coping mechanism, a way of keeping his mother around, even though she was gone forever.

  He wanted it to be a message from his mom… one last message, one last connection to her.

  Justin had called it.

  He was attached to the dreams.

  He hated them… and he needed them.

  Like an addict.

  He stared at his blurry-eyed face in the mirror, searching for answers, and secretly, deep down, knowing what he was going to do.

  He slowly, opened the medicine cabinet where he had hidden the pills earlier that day. He pulled out the small, yellow, unlabeled container, uncapping it, and slowly tipped it toward the toilet.

  Each small white pill slid out, landing with soft plunks in the toilet bowl, until the container was empty.

  He tossed the container in his trash can and flushed the toilet.

  Chapter 10 - Thessa

  “Speak lightly,” she said, hiding behind one of the massive pillars in the Great Library. It wasn’t a secure connection, and with so many people around, she never knew who was listening in.

  “Why are you still there?” Clara asked. “We need you. Now. Her powers are coming in, and she’s strong, Thessa. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Thessa sighed, her eyes peeling across every inch of space around her. She had been a young Hallow when this library was built, and a little over 300 years old when it was moved underground. She was far more skilled at evading watchful eyes than others of her kind, but the Great Library held so many nooks and secrets. She did not want anyone to know she was there.

  “Hello? Thessa, are you hearing me? Kind of need you right now.”

  She forced herself to refocus on her hysterical daughter. “She will have to wait a few more days for my return. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s not the only problem we have,” Clara said.

  “Oh?”

  “Her aunt is here. She came to the school, and she saw her.”

  Thessa pursed her lips. “Well, I suppose that’s not surprising.”

  “And there may be someone else here… I’m not sure. There were markings that didn’t make sense to me.”

  “I won’t be much longer,” Thessa said. “A few days. You can handle this situation for a few more days. Just… watch her. Keep her secured.”

  “No, we need you. We can’t train her without you, and if there’s someone else who knows about her—”

  “I know,” Thessa said. She sighed again. “But the two of you can protect her for now. Si—” She paused. “Her aunt is not a threat to her. She’s likely just curious. And even if there is one other, you and your sister are strong. You can protect her. It’s just a few more days.”

  Clara didn’t respond. “What am I missing?” she finally asked. “What could possibly be more important than this?” She paused again. “Or is Vega making you stay? Thessa, if he’s holding you hostage, I can come to get—”

  “No,” Thessa said. “He’s not. We had a good meeting. Now, don’t worry about me. I just need to check on something before I leave here. I’ll be back soon.”

  She ended the call without waiting for Clara’s response, feeling only a small twinge of guilt over it.

  Clara couldn’t know what she was doing; she wouldn’t understand. Cora, maybe, but Clara… she had a clear cut view of what was right and wrong. She wouldn’t understand how Thessa had broken the Hallow laws to protect them… and how she was determined to do it again.

  She only had to blend through two more hallways to reach her goal, but they were the most crowded with people.

  She took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the pillar, trying to blend in. Buzz had spread about her presence in the capitol, and she didn’t want to be recognized, especially not in the Great Library, attempting to enter the classified section.

  She reached the end of the second hallway and entered a wide open space with a statue in its center, of Michael striking down Luci from the heavens.

  She quickly ducked behind it and waited.

  Several minutes passed before someone with classified access walked through. The door opened easily for him, likely recognizing his blood.

  As it swung closed, Thessa focused her mind on the door, slowing it down just long enough to slide through the open space without coming into contact with it.

  Now inside, she immediately ducked between the two closest bookshelves to avoid being seen. She wouldn’t be able to transport through the rows of shelves to get to the section on blood magic, but she could duck through each shelf to keep from drawing attention to herself.

  She did this several times, wondering if it was too easy. The classified section was quiet and empty, just the way she needed it to be. Still, if this was all the security that the capitol could throw at her, she wondered if things were worse than President Vega had let on.

  She had seen it happen many times before; the Hallows who survived the hard-fought wars had children who grew up in peace. Those children stayed soft, making them ill-prepared for the battle that was always to come.

&n
bsp; There was always another war to be fought, as the world tipped to one side or the other, Hallows, Nephilim, Hallows, Nephilim… on and on it went like a wheel, spinning, spinning, neverending.

  Thessa could tell that the current tenor of the city was peaceful and unassuming instead of alert as it should be. These were soft children, not war-worn ones. They had lost their vigilance somewhere along they way, which could only be good for her larger cause, the one she had started on with Bes so many years ago.

  But for now, she needed to get that recipe.

  She scanned the shelves, walking all the way down the aisle, looking for the most advanced among the books about blood magic. When she finally reached the end, she spotted the book—a book she hadn’t seen in about a hundred years, since the first time she retrieved it for Selena Coristou-Michael, the last daughter of Michael to rule the Hallows.

  Therapeíes tis Psychís.

  Cures of the Soul.

  She reached up, pulling the brick-like book from the shelf, allowing it to fall open in her arms. It was heavy, heavier than she remembered. She materialized a table next to her and set it down, laying it flat. She flipped to the very back, scanning the handwritten index for the blood of Michael.

  Michael’s blood was the only thing strong enough to have kept her and the twins hidden for all of those years. It was so rare that there were only two people left who had it: Milena’s sister and Milena’s daughter, the latter of whom she was now charged with keeping safe.

  She thought back to the day Milena first presented her with the elixir she’d made, fifteen years earlier. “This will keep you and your girls safe,” she had said, “As long as I’m alive.”

  “I can’t use this!” Thessa had told her. They had been dodging the New Order for years on their own… or at least they thought they had. Until Milena confessed that she believed her mother had used the same elixir to protect her children and any who helped them.