“Okay, I’m ready,” Sophie broke in, suddenly feeling the urge to be through with the task. She started to step forward into the mist when a hand gripped her wrist.
It was Adam, and when she looked back at him, he immediately released her, shoving his tattooed hands into his back pockets, “Sorry. I just...it’s going to be fine.” His face was a little redder than normal and he let himself hunch over a bit. His eyes were battling to stay on her, but kept finding the floor, and she realized he was telling himself more than her.
She smiled, “I know.”
They all continued on together until they could make out the very faintest shadow of a building in the distance. It was a short structure with a few others surrounding it, very square and very simple. Unlike the little brick house, it did not remind her of anything on Earth. Instead, it looked almost like a cartoon, or as if someone had been told to build a house without having ever seen one. Around the buildings, a short wall ran, and two figures haphazardly lounged against it.
“It’s a bit more lax than I remember,” Adam dropped his voice to a whisper.
“Is that...music?” Mona screwed up her face as she gazed upward, her ear toward the camp.
Sophie began to hear it too, a far-off, spirited sound, not completely unfamiliar.
“Oh,” Adam had found the sound as well, “Oh, this is great. They’re having a party.”
Mona snorted, “Excuse me?”
Adam smiled and shook his head, “Every now and then the bases would throw themselves get-togethers. Especially when they’d become interested in certain human things,” he looked thoughtful for a moment, “They especially enjoyed doing Christmas once.” Sophie watched him reminisce then come crashing back into the present, “Anyway, this is perfect. They’ll be paying even less attention, and the commanders are likely gone.”
Sophie took a deep breath, “Okay, this is it.” She stepped forward quickly, so as not to be stopped again, and found herself free of the mists almost immediately. She bit her lip and squinted as she walked toward the buildings and the figures there, fighting the urge to glance back at the safety of where Mona and Adam hid.
She began to make out the characteristics of the two just to the side of the only break in the wall. A tall man leaned with his chin against his chest and one foot crossed over the other. Dark hair obscured his face and he appeared unmoving. Beside him, atop the wall, a woman was sprawled out with her eyes closed and mouth hanging open. If Sophie hadn’t thought better, she would have sworn the woman were asleep.
Yet, neither moved as she took another step in their direction. Of course, they weren’t looking at her, or really anywhere. She glanced about for other guards, but this seemed to be it, and she cleared her throat timidly.
The man shifted but was otherwise unaffected.
Sophie furrowed her brow and spoke in a delicate whisper, “Um, excuse me?”
“What’d you say, Ariel?” mumbled the man without raising his head.
The woman grunted, “I didn’t say nothin.”
Sophie balled her fists and placed them on her hips. This really was ridiculous. “That wasn’t her, it was me.”
The man lifted his head, drowsy eyes beneath a fall of black, curled hair. When they focused on her, they widened, and he pushed himself up to his full height. In a swift motion, he took up a long spear that had been sitting camouflaged atop the wall and leveled it at her, its massive axe blade falling inches from her chest.
“Demon, demon!” the woman’s voice called out as she suddenly thrashed against the wall, losing her balance and falling off on the far side. Without hesitation, she popped back up and tried to throw herself over the stones but slammed into an invisible barrier, falling backward. With a little screech, she scrambled to her feet and hurried around and through the opening in the gate, coming up beside the man and going for the sword strapped to her side.
“Stop.” The man held out a hand to the woman, the other holding his halberd aligned with Sophie’s heart. “This is not a…” his voice quieted and he narrowed dark eyes at her, cocking his head, “I’m sorry, what’s your name, darling?”
Sophie glanced down at the halberd then back up at him. He smiled, full lips on an angular, hard-set jaw adorned with the dark stubble of a few day’s neglect, and drew back the weapon. She let out a short breath and searched her mind. They’d come up with a pseudonym for her, but what was it? Her heart raced and her mouth went dry. “Sara.” That had definitely not been it.
“Ah,” the man gestured to her, “See, Ariel, this is not a demon, it’s a Sara. Or, as you’d more likely call it, a human.”
“No,” the woman’s jaw dropped and her whole, round face lit up, “Well, hello, you cute thing!” She reached out and pat Sophie’s head, her green eyes sparkling from below heavy, cat-like lids. She had dark skin and a wide, rounded nose with a mane of untamed brunette hair. She and the man wore the same outfit, a pair of black pants and a light gray, high collared jacket with a line of thick buttons up its middle, but it fit her differently, tight against her full hips and exposing an inch or so of her stomach. She wore the jacket closed to her neck and it stretched taut across her breasts as opposed to the man whose top four buttons were undone revealing the tanned, olive skin of his chest.
“Hi,” Sophie swallowed hard and tried to smile.
The man replaced his halberd onto the wall, “I bet you’re a little confused as to where you are.”
“Yes!” Sophie responded a bit louder than she intended then quickly dropped her voice to a hush, “Um, yeah, I just kind of was here suddenly.”
“Let me guess,” he squinted at her and placed a long finger against his lips, “Car accident?”
“What?”
“Wait, could you please just,” he twirled his finger, and she spun around slowly as directed.
“Hm, perhaps someone stabbed you?” he asked offhandedly, his voice low and thick.
Sophie stuttered a moment, “I, uh, I don’t know what you mean.”
“Never mind,” he waved his hand at the air, “This is just a dream, so you may as well enjoy it while you’re here.” With a grand gesture, he offered her his arm.
Sophie gently took his elbow, fighting the urge to look back into the mists for her friends.
“You mean we’re taking her inside, Sraosha?” The woman called Ariel popped up on Sophie’s other side
“Of course!” he smiled broadly, “We’ve got to report this to the datha right away. And get someone to take over our post.”
“Yes!” Ariel jumped in place and clasped her hands in fists before her then shot a shrewd look to Sraosha, “Anything to see Tabbris, huh?”
He took in long breath through his nose and started walking toward the building, “Ah, yes. But first, some fun.”
The music became louder, a mix of horns and thumping drums, and Sophie could see the brightness of the lights shining from below the double doors ahead of them. There were voices too, all jumbled together with raucous laughter. The sounds could not have prepared her, however, for what she saw when the doors were opened.
Music and lights hit her and she would have stumbled backward if she hadn’t been linked arm in arm with Sraosha. It was loud, incredibly loud, and bodies were flying everywhere, men and women both somersaulting and tossing one another through the air. Despite the force with which they were propelled, they landed on their feet and returned to an anxiously waiting partner to continue. They shouted wildly across the room, cheering their counterparts on and clapping in rhythm with the music. These were angels.
After the initial shock, Sophie’s senses allowed her to focus on the individuals and specifically their fairly militant clothing, though starkly different from Sraosha and Ariel’s, about half of them wore. Regardless of gender, khaki, button up shirts with matching ties and wide-legged trousers were the outfit of choice for many, and only a few had succeeded in keeping the corresponding khaki hats on their heads as many laid strewn about the floor. The o
thers were dressed less soldierly, in high-waisted pants or knee length, billowy skirts and short sleeved blouses, leaving little to the imagination as they flipped through the air.
“You caught us on a good day,” Sraosha spoke into her ear above the ruckus, “We won the war!”
“What war?” She looked over at him and, with a wide an unapologetic grin, he shrugged. He too was suddenly dressed as the others in khaki from head to toe, and a quick glance at Ariel proved she had somehow also changed. “How did you?” she pointed at them with her mouth hanging open.
Ariel shrugged and grabbed her hand, repositioning her finger to point at herself and Sraosha laughed, “Dreams are unpredictable, Sara.”
Sophie’s clothing had been replaced. She had felt nothing, seen nothing, but there she stood, suddenly and inexplicably adorned in a navy blue and white polka dotted dress that fell just below her knees. Before she could ask for an explanation, Sraosha had guided her out onto the dance floor, holding both of her hands in his and began pulling her toward him and twirling her away in time with the music. Ariel was beside her, a grin plastered across her full face, and she too was dancing with another, a woman in red and white stripes. Sophie’s breathing quickened as she stumbled slightly and then was caught. She growled to herself, how was she letting this happen again?
“You’re not too bad,” Sraosha shouted to her over the music.
Sophie offered him a weak smile before he reached out and grabbed her hips, lifting her up. She flailed, snatching at his shoulders as he raised her above his head. The angel laughed, letting her down, and she grabbed handfuls of his shirt, shaking her head.
“Are you all right?” he managed between barely stifled guffaws.
Sophie released him, taking a sharp breath, “Uh, bathroom. Please.”
“Oh, yes, you might think you need that.” He directed her to a hall jutting off from the main room, and she went down it. As she reached the door marked ‘Dolls’ she glanced back and could see she’d stepped out of his line of sight. Biting her lip, she tiptoed past the bathroom entrance. A corridor ran left and right at the hall’s end, and she slipped around the corner unseen.
The walls here were stark white and lit by a glaring source. The sounds of the dance hall were muffled into near silence, and even Sophie’s footsteps sounded distant as she made her way down the narrow enclosure. Predictably, when she glanced at herself she was again adorned in her bloodied shirt and jeans. That room, she could only presume, was somehow enchanted, and she was glad to be out of it. As she came to another corner and turned, she saw Adam passing into one of the rooms off of the hall. She quickened her steps and turned into the room, her mind reeling, “Oh, Adam, am I glad to see you.”
He turned, and Sophie’s jaw dropped. The man was not, in fact, Adam at all. He had copper hair and blue eyes, a rounded jaw and the same prominent chin, but his nose was straight, his skin was pale but without freckles, and he was only slightly taller than Sophie. She stared a moment longer then clasped a hand over her mouth, squeaking out between her fingers, “I’m so sorry. Accident,” and backed out of the doorway.
“Wait.”
She froze. She could run, return to the dancehall and conceal herself in the mass of bodies there, or she could try and hide herself in the restroom, waiting for him to pass. Then there was the option of the unknown, any one of these clinical hallways and their plethora of doors. But he motioned for her to come inside, and she obliged him.
“Who are you?” he questioned, his voice so similar to Adam’s but authoritative and devoid of emotion. He wore the uniform she had first seen Sraosha and Ariel in, but buttoned to his chin and tailored perfectly, and he was staring her down with icy blue eyes.
She stuttered and chewed on the inside of her mouth, “Sophie,” then gasped, remembering the name she’d given the guards, “I mean, Sara.”
His face didn’t change, and he stepped toward her with a stiff, long stride, “What did you call me?”
Her heart raced. He exuded authority, commanding the truth from her, and she nearly blurted it out until a thought struck her. She snapped her head up to the ceiling, plastering a bewildered look on her face, “Where am I? I don’t think I’ve ever been here before.”
The man snorted and opened his mouth, but a sound from the hall interrupted him before he could start. Sophie turned to see Sraosha rush past. He threw out a hand and grabbed the doorway, pulling himself back to them and catching his breath. He was addled for a moment then relaxed against the doorway, casually swinging one leg over the other, “Datha,” he cleared his throat, “Hey, I see you’ve met our stray, Sara. Sara, this is the datha, Tabbris.”
“Stray?” the man lifted an eyebrow as he looked her over.
“Yeah, you know, a little lost human. Just wandered up to us while we were on duty.”
“And who’s on duty now?”
Sraosha stared blankly at him until Ariel appeared in the doorway at a run. Sraosha grabbed her before she passed and mumbled to her to find replacements for them immediately. After she disappeared, he offered the red-haired man a grin and again relaxed against the doorway.
“So she’s a detached soul, then?” Tabbris asked, stepping up to Sophie. She thought her heart might burst out of her chest if he came any closer.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sraosha was the picture of repose.
“Tell me, Sraosha,” Tabbris pointed to Sophie’s forehead, “When did human souls start sweating?”
The angel scrambled off the wall and put his face beside Sophie’s. She could suddenly feel the bead of sweat run down her temple, and she quickly wiped it away, smiling broadly at the two men.
“We’ve got intruders,” Tabbris spoke firmly to Sraosha.
“I’ll alert the—”
“No,” he commanded, “Find them and keep them out of sight.”
Chapter 8
“I should run you through right here.” Sophie could hear Sraosha growling as she was led by Tabbris into the storeroom. “Tabbris already risked his life for you once, I’m not going to let you—”
“Enough.” Tabbris announced their entry and Sraosha immediately pulled back his halberd, though the sneer on his bristled face remained as if it were cut in stone.
Mona and Adam stood beside one another, she slightly alarmed and he solemn, amongst boxes, trunks, and weaponry. As Tabbris moved toward them the resemblance was striking, their hair the exact same ruddy hue and their eyes both bright. It could not be a coincidence, Sophie told herself.
“They were in here rooting around,” Sraosha reported eying them, “Maybe planting something, a weapon?”
“We certainly weren’t,” Mona sneered at him.
He extended an accusatory finger at her, “That one’s a strigori, as if she can be trusted.”
“Hey!” she went to move forward and Adam grabbed her arm to stop her. She wrenched away from him.
“Please,” Sophie spoke up, afraid of Mona’s short temper, and tried to appeal to Tabbris, “My friend is dying. We needed something from you to help her. I’m sorry we snuck in like this, but she’s in trouble.”
The angel looked Sophie over. She had hoped to convince him with their plight, but the hardness never left his face. He stood militantly before them wearing a look she couldn’t possibly imagine ever on Adam. He was an angel, though, she reminded herself. An angel, for Heaven’s sake. But then she’d now seen a horde of them, seen their power, and for what had it been used? An aimless party and some dangerous fun with what they believed to be a lost human soul?
“Listen,” Adam scratched the back of his head, “I—”
“What do you need?” Tabbris was short, formal almost.
Adam inhaled deeply and pointed to a small box atop a counter to his right. Tabbris walked to it and removed a single vial from it, tossing it to Adam. With a wide swing of his arm, Tabbris knocked the box and the rest of its contents to the ground, the glass inside shattering and a pale, iridescent liquid pouring out. “Ariel wa
s cleaning,” he pointed at Sraosha, “You helped her.”
Sraosha looked as if he wanted to retort, but kept his mouth shut.
Tabbris eyed Adam again, “Is that all?”
He nodded.
“There is a zone five meters from the back of this building where you can peregrinate. No one is stationed near there. Go now.”
Adam continued to stare at him.
“Now!”
He cringed at the angel’s voice then moved quickly, taking Sophie lightly by her upper arm and guiding her and Mona to the back of the room. She wanted desperately to thank them, to say anything, but something urged her not to. Instead, they rushed outside to a large, bare spot and, without a word, tore back into the plane.
***
"The sooner we put this to use, the better,” Adam spoke with haste as he made his way back into the little brick house, the other two in tow.
Sophie wanted to stop him, if only for a second, to get any answer she could about what had transpired with his so similarly looking acquaintance, but he rushed around too quickly. He was good at that.
Adam placed a hand on the crystal coffin and tiny fissures began to spread out from beneath his palm. They crawled over the surface and climbed down the sides until the entirety of the enclosure was covered in minute incisions. He gave it a gentle push and a resounding crack filled the room, the case bursting like a balloon, sending tiny fragments in all directions. Sophie went to cover her eyes, but as the pieces sailed off they disintegrated leaving behind only Verrine’s very still body on the wooden floor.
Sophie knelt beside the girl as Adam uncorked the vial. He poured half of its contents directly onto her cuts, “This is quite powerful stuff, so be forewarned: if it works, she’ll come out of it pretty quickly.”
They sat, breath baited, and stared down at her. The serum swam across her skin, finding its way to the slashes and climbing inside. Sophie nervously leaned forward wanting anything to happen, for the girl to show any sign of life.
The Nephilim: Book One Page 8
