And then there was her gifts.
At this point, there was no way denying what was part of her. She was different, a blue sock in a sea of red. Something, she didn’t dare say magic, flowed in her veins. For every explanation she could logically come up with for the events in her life, four more tied to the impossible were more likely. Fire didn’t just normally shoot from human skin. Normal humans couldn’t manipulate other people into forgetting and thinking different things.
So what was she? Tegen had said so himself, that others existed like her. Did that mean she could find them, or did that mean that Tegen knew them? Turning a corner into a less-traveled area of the city, Rinae slipped into a small coffee shop to briefly warm up.
The shop was tiny, and at best could only seat a dozen. Chairs of various styles sat at several small, round mahogany tables decorated in various menus and stand-up ads displaying special drinks for each week. Cream colored walls trimmed with dark brown framed the small front room, each side covered in different paintings and posters until no wall space was left. It screamed of small town charm, but sported drinks fit for even the city’s biggest, strongest caffeine addict.
Looking up and down the small room, Rinae spotted a set of booths alongside the grand window at the opposite end. She’d taken two steps forward when she stopped, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Seated at the farthest booth from the door, a familiar olive-skinned boy with black curls sat with a cup of tea and several books.
She narrowed her eyes to slits, drawing up her chest and stomping up to his table. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides, and she struggled not to strike him in the jaw right then and there.
“Are you following me?”
His lips brushed the edge of his cup, steam rising from the scalding dark liquid. “Interesting theory, Watson. Have you evidence to back your wild, frivolous claim?”
Rinae’s cheeks flamed red. Scooting into the booth across from his seat, she kept her eyes narrowed. “This is my spot. You can keep your pretty little face if you leave, or I’ll give you a nose job free of charge.”
“My, that’s quite the temper you’ve got there. Tell me, is it a front you use to look all big and intimidating, or are you really sharpening your tongue on razorblades?”
“Get out,” she growled. She wasn’t going to play his games; punks like him got a black-eye, robbed in the night, and tossed into the dumpster for good measure. Right now, all three of options sounded fantastic, maybe even better if she could wipe the smirk off his stupid face.
For a moment, Tegen simply stared. The tiny white china cup in his hand stayed steady and true, hovering in front of his hitched smirk. He took a careful sip, pinky raised in the corniest of fashions. “Seeing as how I was the first one here, having a grand afternoon with tea and fresh literature, I believe I will pass.”
“Tegen-”
“In fact,” he continued, smirk growing with each syllable. “I’d even go as far as to say it might be you who is following me. You really should reconsider your nickname from Slayer to Stalker, you enchanting little creeper.”
White hot rage boiled under her skin. Rinae pursed her lips, trying to think of something, anything, to smack back at the infuriating idiot sitting across from her. But all she wanted at this point was answers, and Tegen was the only one who could provide them.
She could feel herself struggling to say the words out loud. They seemed to wrestle with her tongue. “So, what happens now, exactly?”
“That depends,” he said calmly, setting his cup down on the table. “On if you are ready to believe or not.”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you willing to open your eyes and accept the world for what it really is? Are you willing to open your eyes and accept yourself for what you really are?”
“I...” Rinae hesitated. “I don’t know.”
Steepling his fingers, Tegen leaned his upper half across the table, bringing himself nose-to-nose with Rinae’s fearful, doubting gaze.
“Then I can’t help you.” He withdrew himself as quickly as he had leaned forward, picking up the tea cup and sipping once more.
Silence stretched between them, a finality ringing in the air. This was it, the only chance she may have to take a new path, a new life.
Subconsciously, she touched the spot where the warm velvet pouch rested under her shirt. It reminded her that technically she was given a new life, it was just rougher than most.
“I was seven,” she began, feeling the memory bubble to life in her mind. “The first time I played with fire.”
Tegen had gone from casually watching her, to setting his cup down once more. He rested his elbows on the table, leaning forward to catch her faint, trembling voice. “What happened?”
She let out a harsh, bitter laugh. “I had been in the foster system since birth. No one really had any record of me, but someone once said that my mother was a druggie and probably died after having me. I was found in a dumpster, you know.” Rinae blinked, willing herself not to cry. “My first foster home was terrible. By the time I was three, I had been beaten enough to know that death would be kinder. Can you imagine that, a three year old wanting to die? Being teased and taunted day in and day out that you’re a worthless, damned monster that no human could ever love.”
The words started to come out faster, like a river breaking free of a crumbling dam. “They placed me in a new home when I was five, and it was great. I lived with four other kids, all girls, and the parents, Judy and Caleb, were perfect. Everything was perfect, until I had to go and screw it all up.”
“Rinae,” Tegen frowned, sadness in his stare. “You were just a child, how could you screw it up?”
“Easy? I set Cecily’s dress on fire.” Her hard smile had turned cold. “We were playing in the back yard, all four of us, when Danielle and Marisol went inside. Cecily and I continued to play in the yard, arguing over which doll was the prettiest. She had this blonde-haired doll with a purple dress, and mine was a redhead with a green gown.” The picture flared to life in her mind, fresh as if it had happened only minutes ago; two little girls, each wearing matching yellow sun-dresses, shouting in a patch of green under a bright, warm sun. “When I didn’t say hers was the best, she shoved me to the ground. I remember being so mad, and the sun was burning my eyes, that I had wished she would feel that kind of heat. That’s when I grabbed her dress, and where I touched it lit on fire.”
Closing her eyes, Rinae took in a shuddering breathe. She could still perfectly recall the smell of smoke, the screams, and the nightmare that came later. “In the end, she lied and said I stole matches and tried to light her on fire. It was the only way to explain what had happened, so they kicked me out of the house. At least, they were planning on it. I took off a few days before they could relocate me to another foster home, and spent time on the streets bouncing from shelters. All I had to do was cling to a woman and pretend they were my mother for the night, and no one asked questions.”
“Is that how you’ve been living?” Tegen asked in disbelief, horror draining the color from his face. Cautiously he reached for her, then seemed to think better of it. “Please, tell me you haven’t been bumming it on the streets.”
“Yes, I have,” she said, watching his face turn an eggshell white from the thought. “But at the same time, I haven’t. I’ve been living with a group of kids in a... safe place. It’s no five-star hotel, but there’s a roof over our heads, and most of the time we eat.”
“Funny, you don’t look like it.” He seized the chance to drop a joke, and sized her up. “I may need to start force-feeding you cheeseburgers.”
Against her better half, Rinae laughed. “Seriously? I just told you about the nightmare in my life with these stupid powers, and you’re talking about feeding me food?”
“Got you to stop and think though, didn’t it?” He winked, picking up one of the books perched on the edge of the table. Casually flipping through the pages, he spared her a small glance. “I�
��d say the words ‘I told you so’, but then I’m sure you’d try to light me on fire.”
A skeptical eyebrow rose as she tilted her head to the side. “You told me so? Told me what?”
“Don’t you remember what I said the night you killed the vampire?”
She paused, rumbling through the events that had transpired that night, and it hit her right in the face.
“It’s your choice. I won’t follow you, but when you’re ready, you’ll know where to find me.”
Eyes wide, Rinae looked at Tegen in shock. “It wasn’t coincidence I came here, was it?”
He settled on a spot in the book, running a finger down the paragraphs with mild interest. “No, it was not. The Watcher-Nephilim bond is a unique one, and keeps us in each other’s radar until something bad happens.” He looked up at her through lowered eyes. “Like death.”
The back of the booth pressed between her shoulder blades as Rinae sat back. She was speechless; how was this possible? Did she really have no choice in the matter at all? Perhaps once she had given into her, dare she say it, destiny did things simply work out? It couldn’t be this easy, or could it?
“Is that what I am? A Nephilim?” She asked tentatively. When he nodded, she pressed for more. “What is that?”
“It’s a half-angel, half-human. A being of immense inner strength and power that keeps the balance of light and dark in harmony. If a Nephilim survives long enough, they ascend into a full sweep of their powers, and eventually join a rank of elite angels destined to protect the innocent for eternity, or a Guardian Angel as humans call them.”
Her head swam, spinning to the point of nausea rolling her gut. Waves of hot and cold made her body shiver. “I think I’ve had enough for today,” she said, clamping her lips. The nausea was growing, her vision growing hazy and dim. She had to get home, fast. “Can we meet here a few days?”
“Sure, sure,” Tegen waved her off, nose buried in a book. “Just give me a second.”
Rinae ignored him, standing up and making for the door, thinking the fresh air might do her good. She’d taken two steps before the ground and ceiling traded places, and suddenly she found her face pressed against the cool wooden floor as the room spun out of control around her.
Slipping hands under her arms, Tegen pulled her up to her feet. “Shit, Rinae,” he cursed, pressing the back of a hand to her forehead. “You’re boiling.”
“I’m fine,” she insisted. The room continued to spin, swirling in a tangle of color. Nausea gripped her stomach, forcing bile in her throat.
Yanking a pile of crumpled bills from his pocket, Tegen dropped them on the nearest table and helped Rinae outside, down the street in a huddled mass. She was wrong, the cold did nothing for her. If anything, it made the urge to vomit worse.
“This corner, here,” she tried to push him in the direction home, but he deftly steered her the opposite way, shuffling down several near-vacant streets away from the overbearing noise of the city. “I’m fine, really.”
“You’re not fine, you’re greener than algae, darling.”
“Don’t say that color,” Rinae managed between short and shallow breaths. “Or I might-”
She pushed him aside, turning to the nearest plot of steps and heaved. What little breakfast she had managed between the last day returned with a vengeance. As soon as she stopped, she stumbled backward into Tegen’s steadying arms.
“Hurl,” he finished for her, looping an arm around her shoulders. “Alright, you’re coming with me. Come on, just a few more houses.”
She welcomed the steadying grasp, but that didn’t help for long. Rinae stopped two more times to heave, and by the time they reached Tegen’s home, she was past the point of weak. Inside, she felt like her entire body was cooking, that at any moment she would spontaneously combust.
Pushing open the door, Tegen dragged the both of them inside, shutting the door behind them. He guided Rinae to the right, past a petite dining room into a lofty living room sporting two plush, cream couches and a variety of small decor.
Tegen gently sat Rinae down on one of the couches, pressing her to lay down. Holding up a finger, he made for the kitchen, and after a few moments he returned with a small bowl of cold water and a rag.
“Where are we?” She managed, keeping her mouth and teeth clamped shut. The bad, rotten taste of acid coated her tongue. “What’s happening?”
Dipping the rag into the water, he wrung it free from loose water before pressing it against her scalding temples. “It’s my grandmother’s home, well, was. She passed a few years ago, and the family hasn’t had the heart to get rid of it just yet.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, and genuinely meant it. “Must... have been nice, to have family.”
“Depends on the day of the week,” he half-joked, fighting a grin. “Jesus, Rinae, you feel like a freaking inferno. Here, take off your hoodie.”
She did as he told, sitting up just enough to slip the worn maroon item off her shaking, sweat-drenched body. No disease had ever hit her like this, not even that time she spent two weeks shivering under blankets with Jake worried out of his mind. She wanted to tear into her skin, pull out every vein inside of her, go back to the empty feeling she’d come to accept.
“You’re coming into your power,” he said, answering her earlier question. “There’s no book to say how it happens, or how long, but my guess it when your fever breaks, you’ll be done.”
A small nod made her head swim all over again. She grit her teeth tighter, then forced herself to speak. “I... did some research. Before I met you.” She sucked in a sharp but shallow breath. “Almost every half-breed creature in mythology goes... through a transformation. Guess that means this... is like puberty for the gifted.”
Tegen’s eyes glowed, clearly impressed. “Could be worse, it could have made you hormonal as hell, too.”
“It ain’t over yet.”
“Not until the fat lady sings?”
“More like set on fire.”
Tegen chuckled, the sound enchanting to her ears. “Rinae Decante, Slayer of grand Opera singers.” Dipping the rag back into the bowl of chilled water, he started to wring out the cloth once more. “Why do they call you that?”
“Hrmmm?”
“Slayer,” he said, gently dabbing at her face. “Why do they call you Slayer?”
“Punched a kid so hard, he flew backwards like the bad guys did in that vampire slayer TV show.” A happy sigh tickled her with glee at the memory. “I was eight, he was fifteen. Took a hit like the biggest wimp I’ve ever met.”
They laughed, voices mingling like into a perfect blend of high and low. After a while, Rinae closed her eyes, trying to ride out the wild burn in her chest and limbs that scorched her past any burn she’d ever sustained. She felt Tegen continue to dab at her face, pausing only to refill the bowl with fresh cold water.
Hours passed, slow and drawn. Rinae could feel herself start to panic; how was Jake, Delphine, Loyal, and Carson? Would any of them notice if she didn’t come home that night? That was a joke, she knew Jake would be out first thing in the morning, scouring the streets for any sign of her trademark red hair blowing in the breeze. He’d check their safe-points, ask the other street kids, jump from club to club to make sure she was still alive, still okay.
“Tegen...” Rinae called out to him, fluttering open her eyes. Nighttime had darkened the sky to a pitch black screen outside the windows, not a star or light in sight. “Are you awake?”
Her eyes traveled the room, passing over framed photos of a young and curly haired boy with his grandmother, outdated magazines, and tiny trinkets that came from across all the states. Tegen stood at the far end of the room, leaning a shoulder into the frame built into the wall. His hands flipped through something, pages of a worn and broken-in book.
“Tegen,” she called again. This time, he looked over and saw she was awake. “I can’t see them anymore, can I?”
He crossed the room, book still held in his
hands. It shut with a snap as he took a free hand to press against her forehead. “How are you feeling?”
The fire still burned deep inside her, but it was lessening, receding. “Good, but I’d feel better if you’d answer my question. Can I still go home after this?”
“You can,” he said, mulling over the thought. Each word seemed carefully chosen. “But you would forever put them at risk.”
“Risk, how?”
Kneeling down beside her, Tegen brushed a damp strand of hair from her face. “Do you remember when I told you that there are others like you?” He waited for her to show she had before he continued. “Both have lost their families as a result of what they are. Because the mythical world has been taught that you are a poison, not a cure.”
“But they wouldn’t know about-”
“Jake?” Tegen sighed, his expression unreadable. “You called out his name for hours. He must be important.”
Closing her eyes, Rinae found herself fighting to keep her emotions in check. “I owe him more than you know.”
“Enough to risk his life?” Tegen challenged, rising back to his feet. His shoulders bunched, body turning stiff and rigid. “Enough to watch him die?”
“I can’t just leave them without saying where I’m going,” she screamed, throwing her hands into the air. A groan sounded from her mouth as she struggling to sit upright. Pain shot through her body. “I will not put them through that, I don’t care what you say.”
Pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, Tegen swore. “Fine, tell them. Put them all in danger by letting them know you can create fire because you’re a god damned Nephilim!”
“You don’t understand, do you?” Rinae spat with a growl. “This is more than just some stupid powers. I’ve had those all my life, if anything, I’ve put them in danger for nearly seven years. This is about Jake, and how I need to make amends for screwing with Jake’s head.”
Ethereal: An Illumine Series Novella (The Illumine Series) Page 5
