Angels & Demons: The Series

by Megan Linski

  “Hey! Get up!” I pound on their door as loudly as I can. “Clara’s out of surgery!”

  The locks click. Thames opens the door, wearing nothing but a pair of old jeans. Lena is behind him, looking cozy in Thames’ t-shirt and a pair of fluffy pajama pants and slippers.

  Guess they found the new clothes. “Get dressed,” I tell them. “And hurry up.”

  “Forget it,” Thames grumbles. “We’re coming.”

  Thames only bothers to put on a shirt. Lena stays in her pajama pants, but grabs her wallet. We knock on Athias’ door, but he’s not there. He must already be at the hospital.

  Sure enough, when we get there Athias is sitting next to Isolde. Both are across from Clara. She’s in bed and appears okay, though I know the surgery bandages are hidden underneath her medical gown. She doesn’t appear as pale, but is still weak.

  “Mom.” Cairo rushes to her side. Thames does the same. Lena and I hang back to give them some space.

  “Are you okay?” Thames takes Clara’s hand. It seems frail and brittle.

  “I’m all right, boys,” Clara says. “They stopped the bleeding, and removed most of the shrapnel, though some of it will stay in my body forever. I should be ready to go home in a few days.”

  She tilts her head. “Though I’m not quite sure where home is, now. Where are we?”

  “It’s a long story,” Thames says, and he glances at his brother. “Let’s just say we have more friends than we thought.”

  “Do you guys want some time alone with your mom?” Lena offers.

  Thames nods. “That would be great, doll. Thanks.”

  Thank God for Lena. She’s so much better at reading these kinds of situations than I am. I just feel awkward.

  I look at Cairo, as a question, and he says, “You girls have some fun. We’ll meet you later.”

  I force a smile. “Sure. You want to come with us, Isolde?”

  She stands, wavering. “I suppose so. I’ve had a very long night.”

  “We can show you the houses,” Lena says. “They’re so cute, you’ll love them.”

  “Don’t trouble yourselves. I’ll take her back,” Athias offers, and he extends his arm to Isolde. “She’s had quite a night.”

  “Yes. Thank you, Athias.” Isolde smiles as she grabs his arm. “I would like that very much. You girls go tour the town. Enjoy yourselves, for once.”

  “Get some sleep, Isolde,” I tell her. I close the door cautiously on our way out of the room, and take a peek at Cairo through the glass. He seems more relaxed than he was yesterday, but only just.

  He’s worried about meeting his dad. I don’t blame him. The last meeting we had with a parent didn’t go so well.

  The four of us part in the hallway, with Isolde and Athias taking the exit nearest to them and Lena and I walking the length of the hospital to leave through the main exit into town. A sharp gust of spring air blows our hair back as we leave the hospital and step outside.

  I haven’t had much alone time with my sister recently. The boys are always there.

  “You look famished, Cass.” Lena makes a face. “And I know I haven’t been eating like I should, either. Come on. Let’s get some breakfast.”

  The village is much more active during the daytime. Now the brick streets are crowded we can hardly walk through them.

  People here are dressed differently than I’ve seen anywhere else, the women especially. They wear flowing skirts in purple, red and blue, light scarves around their heads and flowy white shirts. Hardly anyone wears shoes, but many of the women wear crowns and necklaces woven from spring flowers that compliment golden bangles and charms. Unlike in the real world, people here smile when you look them in the eye.

  They look like me.

  The people of the Immortal Legion aren’t afraid to be who they are, to live and let live. It’s wonderfully breathtaking.

  The one thing all of us do have from the bunker is money; we kept personal identification and cash on our persons at all times just in case a disaster happened. Luckily, at the bank, we exchange the American bills we have for the Immortal Legion’s currency… small gold coins.

  Lena and I stop in a small café for eggs, which, I notice, both of us have to shove down.

  “Lost your appetite?” I say when she pokes her yolk with a fork for the fifth time in a row.

  “It’s hard for me to eat when I’m stressed.” She cuts open the egg and takes a bite a toddler would find sufficient.

  “Another thing we have in common,” I say. I swallow my egg. It’s like a rock sliding down my throat.

  “Though it’s hard to be stressed here.” Lena looks around. We’re sitting outside, at a small table… her gaze follows the colorful array of pedestrians as they walk past. “It’s so peaceful. Like no other place on earth.”

  “Thames would call them hippies.”

  Lena snorts. “Yeah. I guess he would.”

  After breakfast, we continue our tour through the village. We find our paths end at an open field, some sort of training area. There are dozens of people there, men and women, standing in straight lines and wearing the same unisex combat suit that Lavonne wore last night.

  Lena and I watch from a distance as the soldiers follow the movements of a singular leader at the head of the group. Each of them have matching, duel-wielding short swords. The leader stabs a sword forward, and in the same movement brings the other blade down. The initial exercise begins a pattern of incredible, complex combat techniques that cause the swords to blur and bodies to become weapons.

  As if they’re one, the warriors kick, backflip, and jump together. They move nearly as fast as a Nephilim.

  I notice Lavonne is with them, at the corner of one of the lines. How did I not realize she was such a badass?

  “Hippies or not, they sure know how to kick ass,” I mutter to Lena.

  “You said it.” She lets out a small whoosh, impressed. “I didn’t think mortals stood a chance against our kind, but these guys might stand a chance.”

  I’m tired of watching fighting. I’m tired of war, morals, laws— all of it. “Come on,” I say, turning my back to the training session. “Let’s go.”

  The merchant district of the village is much happier and bright. Colorful fabrics, along with beautiful-sounding wooden instruments, delicious breads and hand-crafted artifacts, create a picturesque scene. The area is bustling and cheery, full of music and life. It nearly looks like a medieval square, like we’ve gone back in time.

  There are other things, though. Potions, powders, spell books and charms. Things I’ve never seen before— that are strange to me.

  “Hey, Lena,” I ask, and I grab her shoulder. “What religion does the Immortal Legion follow? They know Nephilim are real, so they must believe in God.”

  She shrugs. “I don’t know. The Roma people usually followed whatever religion was most popular in the region they settled in. Lavonne said the Legion is in search of the Divine.”

  “Yes, but what is that?” I say, frustrated.

  Lena isn’t listening. She appears to be thinking about something else. “Hey… Cass?”

  “Hm?”

  “Do you… what do you think it would be like to stay here?” she asks.

  “Permanently?”

  “Yeah. And not fight Roman.”

  I’m quiet for a moment. “I don’t know, Lena,” I say softly. “I don’t think we can.”

  Lena’s head droops. I immediately feel guilty. I should’ve said something positive, given her a little hope. Even a happy lie.

  I used to lie to myself when things got too bleak. One small untruth wouldn’t hurt. So why can’t I be anything but honest with my sister when she needs me the most?

  We pass by an old woman sitting on an upside-down wooden washtub. At first my eyes glaze over her, and I don’t pay much attention… but a second glance prompts me to look closer.

  The woman is near eighty, lines carved throughout her face. But she wears the lines with pride,
not shame, as if she has earned each one of them throughout years of hard grief and strife. Her skin is dark, hair even darker, curling down her back in long tendrils. Most of her hair is covered by a long scarf. Her dress is patchwork, made of many different colors, and her leather slippers are worn with holes.

  Despite her dark skin and hair, her eyes are blue… the richest blue, a deeper color than the ocean, or sapphires. She seems more ancient than the earth itself. And the noblest woman I’ve ever set eyes on.

  I make the mistake of pausing for a few seconds before her. She looks up— when she does, her gaze widens. Quick as a viper her fingers snatch out to grab my wrist.

  “Let go of me,” I say. I could beat this old woman easily in a fight, but still, I’m afraid of her… she seems to have a power within her that’s stronger than mine. I attempt to wrench away, but her feeble fingers hold. In a trembling voice, she speaks.

  “Cassia Delamore,” she gasps. “You are in terrible danger.”

  “How do you know my name?” Cassia gapes. The old woman doesn’t let go. I’m prompted to do something, to get the woman’s hand off my sister, but something stops me. This lady knows something.

  “Come with me.” The old lady shakily stands, then turns, hand still clenched on Cassia’s wrist. She pulls her into the shop behind her. I follow, but the woman makes no attempt to stop me. It’s as if… she wants to me to come, too.

  Darkness shrouds us as we enter the shop. The only light brims from collections of candles placed randomly. There are a variety of odd things inside… the skeletons of animals, essential oils, crystals and gemstones, hand-crafted jewelry, … and feathers that I feel aren’t from birds.

  Incense is burning in a holder nearby, filling the room with smoke. The old woman brings Cass to a long table, covered with a sparkling amethyst cloth and surrounded by antique wooden chairs. She finally lets go of my sister’s wrist and shakes her hands at us, indicating we sit.

  Cassia and I take a seat close to each other as the elderly lady sinks into a chair of her own across from us. She ruffles under the table for something unknown.

  “Are you sure we should be doing this?” Cass hushes under her breath. The old woman appears not to hear. “This is creepy.”

  “We can handle an old lady,” I whisper to her. “Let’s just see what happens.”

  The old woman straightens up. In her hands is a velvet bag with a golden drawstring. “My name is Mala. It is the only name you will need to call me by.”

  She opens the bag and tips it upside down. Out comes a collection of twelve dice. The dice are milky white in color, and painted with strange symbols.

  I lean in. Upon closer inspection, I find that the dice is made out of—

  “Angel wing bones,” I say, the words coming out in one breath. Mala doesn’t correct me.

  The woman takes a wooden cup. She scoops up the dice and shakes them, looking at Cassia. “I’ll read you first.”

  Mala spills the angel bone dice onto the table. As they land, Mala hovers her right hand over the dice. She closes her eyes, and stays silent for a moment. When she drops her hand, she looks to Cassia.

  “It is as I said. You are in terrible danger,” Mala says. “But the enemy is not one easily seen. Your greatest foe lies within yourself.”

  “Myself?” Cassia gapes. “What do you mean?”

  “The dice are clear. You are about to risk your life, not once, but twice. The first time will be necessary, the second a mistake.”

  “So what do I do? When will this be?” Cass leans forward, on the edge of her seat. The candlelight glows ominously over her face.

  “I know not, only that you cannot save yourself. Your destiny lies in the hands of others,” Mala says. “You have no control over your fate.”

  The blood drains from Cassia’s face. I reach out to grab her hand under the table. It’s cold as ice.

  Mala looks to me. She scoops up the dice and shakes them again, spilling them out onto the table once more. This time, she uses her left hand to glide over the dice. Her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head as she finishes.

  “You have the true soul of a Roma,” she tells me. “If you allow yourself to wander, you will be safe, but stay in your cage and everything you know will be lost to you forever.”

  “What do you mean? I don’t even know who I am,” I say in frustration. “I’m just looking for answers. I want to know where I belong.” I blink. “If I’ll get my wings back.”

  “You no longer need them. As such, they were taken from you.” Mala sweeps the dice back into her bag. “When things look most bleak, look to your ancestors. They will guide you back to where you belong.”

  Mala stands, clutching the bag in her bony fingers. “The right hand can get by without the left, but they are best together. Only in union can darkness be defeated.”

  “You’re talking in riddles,” Cassia says. She’s tense. “We don’t understand.”

  “Thinking is not understanding. You must feel,” Mala hisses, and she shakes the bag at us. “All life is sacred, all cultures accepted. This is the meaning of the Legion. You do not understand.”

  “What do you know?” I ask. I stand up and push the chair away. “Why should we listen to you? We don’t even know you.”

  Mala’s eyes darken. It is as if a storm cloud is brewing behind the old woman. I regret opening my big, fat mouth. “I have lived to see our children enslaved, our women raped and our men beaten. I have seen our kind be burned alive, be mutilated, be chased out of warmth and starved of food… all because of our skin, our heritage, and the name they’ve turned into a slur— gypsy.”

  Mala’s crooked back straightens, until she is standing proudly. “Why should you listen to me? I am you. I am Romani. And I have lived through millennia to watch the Roma people cry out for change again and again. The change starts with you. Do not have the cowardice to stand by while our people continue to suffer.”

  With astounding speed for an old lady, Mala shuffles away into the other room. I’m left quaking… what she said to me shook me to the core.

  Cassia stands. “Let’s go,” she mumbles. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

  We exit the shop. To our surprise Cairo and Thames are standing at the other end of the street, led by Lavonne. Thames waves to us. We cut through the crowd to join them. Though it’s a warm day, I shiver as we approach them. I feel like I’m being haunted by a ghost.

  “I see you guys met our local fortune teller,” Lavonne says with a smile. “Looks like Mala likes you. She doesn’t usually read people until they’ve been here at least a month.”

  “Fortune teller?” Cairo’s tone is accusatory. “Cassia, I can’t believe you participated in something like that. You’re opening the door to something evil.”

  “Here we go,” Thames sighs. “Read them the riot act, won’t you?”

  Cassia inserts herself between them, which she’s prone to do when the boys argue. I’m trying to break her of that habit. When the brothers get into a fight, I’m just willing to let them at it.

  “I’m serious,” Cairo says. “Tarot cards, crystals, spells, all of it. It’s bad news. Magic can only come from the light or the dark, and if it’s not from heaven, it’s definitely from hell. These people don’t know what kind of stuff they’re messing with.”

  “Hey, Cairo, your Pharisee is showing,” Thames says bluntly. Cairo gives him a loathsome look.

  Lavonne doesn’t seem bothered by Cairo’s opinion. It’s almost like she’s willing to accept this point of view, though I can tell she doesn’t agree with it.

  “She knew my name,” Cassia says. She’s still very pale. “How?”

  “Mala knows everyone,” Lavonne replies. “She’s the founder of the Legion.”

  “The founder?” Thames asks curiously. “That means she has to be…”

  “As far as we know, she’s the oldest Nephilim alive,” Lavonne says. “Her family left with the original Roma gypsies when they departed Ind
ia centuries ago. She’s been everywhere and seen everything. She has the gift of prophecy.”

  Cairo shifts uneasily. “She could be a prophet, but she’s still dabbling in things she shouldn’t be.”

  “Cairo, I don’t feel so well,” Cassia says. “Can you take me back to the house, please?”

  Cairo’s tone instantly changes. “Of course.” He offers an arm to Cassia, and she takes it. The two of them leave the group abruptly without saying goodbye.

  Lavonne is on her phone. She seems to text a lot. “I’ve got to go. Keep an eye on Cass, okay? Mala’s prophecies have a way of getting to people.”

  “Okay. See you later,” I say.

  Lavonne hurries off, her nose still in her phone, fingers flying furiously over the buttons. Who is she talking to that she has to respond so urgently?

  “What’s that all about?” Thames asks, jerking his thumb in Cassia’s direction.

  I hesitate. Should I tell Thames what Mala prophesied about Cassia? It seemed like something private.

  I decide Cassia’s prophecy is hers to tell, so I say, “I’m not sure. But do you want to hear about my reading?”

  “Sure. You wanna go shopping?” Thames motions his head in the direction of the stores. “I really don’t feel like going back and being nagged by Mister Holier Than Thou.”

  “A boy who likes to take his girlfriend shopping,” I say with a happy sigh. “Could I have gotten any luckier?”

  “Hell no.” Thames laughs. “I’m literally the best, and you know it.”

  “Oh, shut up,” I say, and I smack his arm as we go walking.

  Thames opens the door for me into the nearest shop. It’s a clothing store for women. I take my time browsing the racks and telling Thames about my fortune, though he doesn’t seem to mind waiting.

  “I don’t know. Do you think it’s real?” I ask, pulling a long skirt off the rack. “The angel bone dice seemed very powerful.”

  “I don’t know if I believe in it, but in our world, anything’s possible,” Thames says. “I’m more open-minded than Cairo. If Mala’s as old as Lavonne says, she’s either crazy, or she’s got more power than any of us could imagine. I would listen to her.”