Saint of Sinners

by Devin Harnois

  They puffed themselves up and tried to back me farther down the hall. I stood where I was until the lead jock was inches from me. “What are you gonna do, take on all of us?” He got several chuckles.

  “I could.” I gave him my best I-will-fuck-you-up stare.

  He took a step back before he caught himself and glared down at me. “You’re full of shit.” Then he took a swing at me.

  I ducked and he completely missed, almost sending himself off balance. With a growl he swung again and I sidestepped. Another miss, and from the look on his face he wasn’t going to stop trying. I could keep playing duck and dodge, but even if I tapped into my inhuman speed I didn’t have much space to move in, and either he or one of his pals would eventually get lucky and land a hit.

  “Fuck it,” I muttered. I’d fought Satan and won. I wasn’t going to let a bunch of jock assholes push me around. When the lead jock swung at me again, I ducked under his fist and punched him in the gut. Not hard enough to do any permanent damage, just enough to knock the wind out of him. Gasping, he doubled over. I kneed him in the jaw, sending him slumping into the wall.

  One of his pals came for me. I grabbed his fist and pulled, throwing him into the wall behind me. When he staggered back I tripped him, knocking him to the floor. Calm. I had to stay calm and not let my powers leak out. I wanted to beat these guys enough to make them leave me alone, not kill them.

  Lucky numbers three and four came at me at the same time. I shifted away from one and gave the other guy, who was just a little taller than me, a solid punch to the jaw. He went down and I turned to give an uppercut to his buddy. His teeth clicked as they knocked together and he stumbled away, dazed.

  Two more left. One of them helped the dazed guy out of the way while number five rushed me like he was going for a tackle. I let him hit me. He drove me back into the wall, almost stumbling over one of the other guys. It hurt, but I’d been taking beatings most of my life, so it didn’t faze me. I grabbed him in a headlock and kneed him twice in the gut. He grunted and sagged, and I tossed him aside.

  The one fresh guy and dazed jock number four ran at me. The dazed guy I just grabbed and shoved hard at the far wall. The last guy I gave a sloppy but effective roundhouse kick to the face. He went crashing on top of one of his friends.

  It took maybe two minutes for me to lay out six guys, all of them bigger than me. Some wide-eyed kids stood a safe distance away. Just as I was about to get the hell out of there, a few adults pushed their way through.

  “What’s going on here?” one of the school security guards asked.

  I glanced at the jocks around me—dazed, coughing, or passed out. “They were picking on me.”

  ***

  We all got three days of suspension for fighting. First week of school, and I was already in trouble. The principal gave me a big lecture and I sat there and took it, on my best behavior. As annoying as it was, it was way the fuck better than what I’d had to deal with at home. I even apologized.

  Of course I missed the bus, so I used my shiny new prepaid cell phone to call a cab. I’d never had a cell phone before, and it made me feel like a real modern teen. I even had numbers on there—my demigod friends. No more having to send messages through animals or hop through Gates at cemeteries. I could just call them.

  When the cab dropped me off, I called Stefan to see what he was doing that weekend. He’d started his first year of college a few weeks before and had made a few friends, so I thought he might be busy. He wasn’t though, and he suggested we all get together tomorrow. So we made a round of calls and got everybody to agree to come over to my place on Saturday so we could hang out.

  Mew-Mew and I had dinner and then I practiced my teleporting. I’d been practicing several of my powers since leaving home, not just because they were awesome, but also because I knew I had to be ready when the devil came back for me. I didn’t know how long Joshua’s protection would last and I didn’t know if I could keep casting Satan out.

  Besides, eventually I didn’t want to have to cast him out at all. I didn’t want him to come after me, period. In the back of my mind, I wondered if he’d ever really leave me alone or if I’d have to kill him. Kill the devil? Was that even possible?

  I could try, at least. My sword, Animus, had done some serious damage to him. I asked Mew-Mew if he’d made me a sword that could kill Satan, but he didn’t know. His intent was to make me a strong weapon, with as much power as he could get from the animals and ghosts. I still wasn’t sure what exactly my sword was capable of.

  I’d taken her out for some practice, too, far away from any people just in case. I’d found a really nice clearing in the woods in one of the national parks for testing some of my powers, and another place out in the desert to test stuff that might kill the trees.

  That evening I went out to the desert so I could work on both my fire and ice powers. First, I called up an image of the place and pulled on whatever power inside me let me teleport. I had to try it a few times, but it finally worked. I’d gotten a lot better at teleporting in the last few months, but I still wasn’t as good as Stefan. My goal was to get better than him before spring and to get wherever I wanted by next year. Just like a full god.

  The desert was blazing hot and it took me a few minutes to get used to it. Late afternoon in the desert is not the most comfortable time, but it did present a nice challenge for my ice powers. I’d gotten pretty good at them but I wanted to get even better. Everything had to be in top form if I wanted to fight my father. So making it snow in the desert on a late afternoon in September? That was a nice challenge.

  I pulled on the force inside me, thinking of cold, and the air around me immediately changed. It got first cool and then cold, and I kept pulling on it. After a few seconds, I could see my breath and I got a little shiver. A few seconds more and the sand grew a light coating of frost. It took a minute or two, but then a flake drifted in front of my eyes, and another and another. Snow in the desert.

  I laughed and held out my hand. The snow came out of the air a few feet above my head, out of nothing. Nice fat flakes that melted in my palm. The first time I’d done this a few months ago it had been an accident in my mother’s dining room. Now I could control it. I enjoyed the snow for a little while before getting serious. Snow wasn’t going to do anything against my father.

  Icicles could do damage, though. Thick, sharp ones thrown through the air like knives. Or my new trick, pulling them up out of the ground like spikes. After half an hour practicing that, I shifted to fire.

  Fire was easiest for me, the most natural. Fireballs and streams of fire, rings of flame that built a barrier around me, walls of fire, fire whips, and fire built into a crashing wave. I had serious intent, but it was also tons of fun. By the time I finished, the sun was sinking on the horizon. Time to go home and spend some quality time with TV and the Internet.

  Saturday was for hanging out with my friends, but Sunday I was going to try flying.

  Chapter 3

  I went to the cemetery to pick up my friends. Stefan could teleport and he was bringing Elliot with him. Emily and Colin would take the Gates from their cemetery to the one near my apartment. One by one they showed up. This was the way we’d gotten together for over a year now, ever since we’d first met.

  Only two months ago we’d saved the world, not once but three times. Things had changed between us. Sometimes it felt like we were closer, like these were my real friends and not just people I hung out with, but once in a while there was this vibe like something was between us.

  Elliot was the most changed. It always took a lot of coaxing to get him to come with us. He’d always been the nervous type, but it had been worse lately. I guess I didn’t blame him after my dad almost killed him. Elliot wasn’t a fighter, despite his dad being the war god, Ares.

  Sometimes I worried that he’d stop hanging out with us. Part of me thought, Well, good riddance, we don’t need a weakling. But the other part of me felt fiercely protective and I
wanted to help him get braver somehow.

  “So how was your first week?” Emily asked after everyone arrived.

  I sighed. “Well, I got suspended.” I told them about the bullies.

  “Way to lay low, Alex,” Stefan said.

  I rolled my eyes. “Hey, I didn’t kill anybody. No divine powers, either.” Just a little extra speed and strength that I always had.

  Colin laughed. “I guess for you, that is restraint.”

  I shoved him. “On the other hand, I made a friend. I think.” I told them about Casey.

  Stefan chuckled. “Defender of the world, protector of the weak.”

  I tucked my hands in my pockets. “I know, seriously. They’re gonna revoke my Evil card.”

  After a week playing human, it felt so good to be myself. We walked around the park while the sun went down and messed around in the playground for a while since there weren’t any kids around. Stefan told us about his new college friends and how he was struggling a little with the homework and studying.

  I wondered if I wanted to give college a try. Some place not too fancy. Definitely not Harvard. That was where my parents had planned to send me because it would look really good when I started my political career. My networking was supposed to start there, rubbing shoulders with the kids of the rich and powerful. Barf. But that didn’t totally put me off the idea of college. Although, considering how my first week of high school had gone, it might not be a good idea.

  Emily had mixed feelings about school. One of her friends had moved away and she was feeling the void. Colin thought one of his classes was tough, but otherwise, as he said, “School is school.”

  “Hey, Elliot, what about you?” I asked. He sat on a swing, mostly looking at the ground.

  He shrugged.

  “C’mon, it’s your turn.” I was worried about him.

  “What’s wrong?” Emily asked.

  Elliot shrugged again. “Some kids picked on me,” he muttered.

  “Well, what the fuck? You’re half god. Just kick their asses and tell them to leave you alone,” I said.

  He looked up at me where I was perched on top of the slide. “Not everyone likes to show off like you.”

  “Show off? This isn’t about showing off. You can’t let people pick on you.”

  “Alex has a point. Not about kicking their asses, but they will keep picking on you,” Colin said. “Tell a teacher or administrator.”

  “I guess.”

  “You know what else works?” Stefan said. “Confidence. If you have an air of confidence, people are less likely to pick on you.”

  Elliot kicked at the sand. “Can we talk about something else?”

  So we did. We took the bus downtown and had dinner, my treat. Then we went back to my place and played a few Xbox games until Elliot reminded us he had a curfew. “I’ll take you home,” I offered.

  “Stefan can take me,” he said.

  “Come on, let me take you. I need to practice teleporting.”

  Elliot made a face. “I don’t want to get lost.”

  “You won’t. Trust me. I’ve gotten much better.”

  He looked at Stefan.

  “Go with Alex, you’ll be fine,” Stefan said.

  Elliot still didn’t look sure, but he sighed and got up. “Okay.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. I’d been to his house a few times and got a firm picture of it in my head. It took a few tries, but then I felt the lurch that meant we’d teleported. I opened my eyes, and there was Elliot’s house. I turned to him. “See, I told you.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “I thought we might end up in Antarctica or something.”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, thanks.” He took a step.

  “Hold on a sec.”

  He gave me a wary look.

  “Since you won’t stand up for yourself, how about I do it for you?”

  “Alex—”

  “That sounded bad. I mean, I can scare the bullies so they’ll stop picking on you.”

  “I don’t want you to kill them.”

  “I’m not going to. I won’t hurt them, either. Just scare them.”

  He gave me a long look. “No.” He turned toward the house.

  “C’mon. I feel like I owe you for dragging you into saving the world. Especially going up against Satan. You could’ve gotten really hurt, and you were there because of me.” The others had convinced him too, but it was mostly me.

  Elliot stopped and his shoulders lifted as he took a deep breath. Then he turned to me. “You’re not doing this because it’s fun for you?”

  “What?” I stared. “No. I want them to stop because I hate the idea of them picking on you. I fucking hate bullies.”

  “You really won’t hurt them?”

  “No.”

  “Or get in a fight?”

  I shook my head.

  He took another deep breath. “Okay.”

  “Great. We can do it Monday.”

  “Monday?” he repeated with a bit of a squeak.

  “I’m suspended, so I’ve got nothing better to do Monday.”

  ***

  Sunday I tried flying for the first time. I’d scouted a good location earlier—an open, remote area with a nice big oak I could use as a launching point. Mew-Mew came along. He said he wanted to watch and encourage me, but I knew he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to laugh when I fell.

  I’d gotten good at summoning my wings, and if I wanted them to stay, they stayed. I wanted to make sure of that before I tried flying. I didn’t want them to disappear mid-flight. I’d picked a good day, blue skies and warm with just a little breeze.

  The leaves on the oak shifted in the wind as I walked up to it. I lengthened my fingernails into claws and sank them into the bark. I climbed up to the lowest branch and went as far out as I dared. This one was a little farther out than the rest so when I stood up I didn’t get tangled in any other branches.

  With a thought, I summoned my wings. A bit of an itch in my shoulder blades and a few seconds later, I had black, leathery wings. I stretched them a little and gave a few experimental flaps, telling myself I wasn’t stalling. Nope, not at all. And the ground wasn’t that far away.

  Good luck, Mew-Mew said.

  Thanks. This was it. I took a deep breath and jumped off the branch.

  I managed one flap, but it didn’t seem to do any good. The ground came up really fast and I hit it with a thud, knocking the wind out of me. “Ow,” I managed as I gasped. I rolled carefully onto my back and did a quick check to make sure I hadn’t broken anything.

  Are you okay?

  “Yeah. Just a little stunned.”

  Mew-Mew laughed. We should get a camera and put this up on YouTube.

  Fuck you.

  I gave myself a minute to recover, then got up to try again.

  I hesitated a little the second time, remembering how not fun it was to hit the ground. This time I started flapping my wings before I jumped and kept flapping as I fell through the air. I fell slower, but I still hit the ground. And it still hurt. Mew-Mew only chuckled this time and didn’t make any cracks about YouTube.

  Two more tries and I’d succeeded in getting better at falling. It didn’t hurt as much when I caught myself and rolled. I rubbed at my sore back after my fourth attempt.

  You have an audience. Mew-Mew sent me an image of crows gathered in the branches of the nearest trees.

  I looked up at them. They must have been deliberately quiet so I wouldn’t notice them, because I’d never known crows to be so silent. “Enjoying the show?” I shouted.

  That got them flapping and cawing. They laughed and teased and I glared at them, but I wasn’t too mad. They weren’t being mean; it was just part of their nature. After a bit they quieted down and one of them spoke up. You’re doing it wrong, Alex.

  I wasn’t that surprised they knew who I was. I’d met a few crows in the area the other times I’d come here scouting for a good flying spot, and crows w
ere majorly chatty, so they would have told all the others who I was. “So what should I be doing?”

  Go up higher. You need more room. Several crows spoke up, agreeing.

  “So I can fall farther? No thanks.”

  Go higher. That’s how most of us learned.

  One of the crows flew over and landed on my shoulder. I craned my neck to watch him as he inspected my wings. I don’t know how you can fly with these wings. They’re too small.

  “I’m part demon. The wings are more… metaphorical.”

  What’s metaphorical? Crows didn’t get concepts that were too abstract. They weren’t as smart as ravens.

  I sighed. “It means I should be able to fly even if they’re too small. It’s magic.”

  Magic! Magic! Magic! The crows chorused. Then believe you can fly and you will. Try again!

  The crows kept shouting advice at me as I climbed the oak, higher than the low branch I’d been using. They egged me on until I was at the highest branch that would hold my weight. Several crows flew over to the tree and called to me from above, below, and every side. I carefully made my way out to the end of the branch.

  “Shut up!” All the noise died. “I need to concentrate.” I was way higher than before and the ground was awfully far away.

  Well, fuck it. I’d done more dangerous things than jumping out of a tree. I flapped my wings a few times and jumped as high and as far from the branch as I could. The crow chorus started up again, this time shouting, Fly, fly, fly!

  I didn’t quite fly and I didn’t quite fall. I made a rough landing on the grass below, the crows calling out more encouragement and a few of them praising me on a good try. I dusted myself off. That was definitely my best attempt. I was making progress. I smiled and went to climb the tree again.

  I did a little better each time, much to the excitement of the crows. This was a thrilling game to them. Some of them demonstrated flying for me, leaping from the oak shouting, Like this!