Entice

by Jessica Shirvington

  “No reason. I just met this nice old couple the other day…They were from New York and thought I looked familiar. I wondered if maybe they were recognizing Mom.”

  “Oh.” I could hear Dad choking up. People always told me how much I looked like Mom. Apart from Dad’s hazel eyes, I was supposed to be a lot like her. “Well…I doubt they knew her.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. Have a good trip, Dad.”

  “Sure, honey. Call me if you need anything and remember—no one at the apartment except Steph, and if you need anything—”

  “I know, I know, the Richardsons are just next door.”

  When Dad hung up, I paused, holding the phone, trying desperately to think back to the dream. I don’t know why I’d thought of it at that moment or why I hadn’t tried to figure it out before now.

  Every time I’d woken from the dreams, I’d been so sure that they were real. The first time, I’d woken shivering and sore, as if the raining ice had chilled me to the bone and bruised my skin. The other times, I felt the dream and its contents slipping out of my grasp, but I was always left with a lingering sadness and sense of burden. I was certain my angel maker had shown me the dreams but then, like so many others, I’d let myself forget. Till now. I couldn’t remember everything but I could hear his words. The warning.

  “A traitor,” I whispered.

  • • •

  Desperate to clear my head, I ran myself a bath and soaked for a small eternity. I had to let out the cold water three times to top it off with more hot. It was comforting to lie there and think quietly. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that. I let my hair out of its ponytail, released it into the water, and slid back. The long strands explored the water, snaking around my neck and chest. As the warmth of the water reached through my skin and into my core, I felt some part of myself—a part I had not allowed to surface in a long time—awaken. Silent tears started to trickle from my eyes. I let them. They were not tears of panic, or even despair—just tears, tears of quiet, tears for me.

  Eventually I let my head slide right down the back of the bath. My loose hair floated in the warm water, which enveloped me in a world of both amplified sounds and quietness. I held my breath and let my lips part slightly so I could feel the water move inside my mouth. I waited and waited. I waited for the burn, the urgent need for air. But being Grigori meant it was a slower process than it once was. I could hold my breath for a lot longer now.

  It was a relief to be alone. Even if I was crying and submerged, I still felt a peaceful calm. My hands slid along the ceramic of the bath and then to the place on my stomach where Onyx had rammed his silver sword. I tried not to, but my thoughts went to him. I couldn’t stop them—the memories. As much as I wanted to deny it, there was a part of me that would be forever linked to Phoenix, and it had nothing to do with his physical hold over me.

  A surge of emotion flooded through me as my lungs started to burn with hot ice, and when morning and evening flashed across my closed eyes, I knew the burning in my lungs was not for oxygen. It was everywhere. I bolted upright, gasping for air, my eyes darting frantically about as a gust of chilling wind hit me in the face.

  “Son of a bitch!” I jumped out of the bath and wrapped a towel around me as I charged out of the bathroom.

  “Phoenix!” I yelled to the empty apartment. “I know it’s you!”

  Worst of all, I knew the blast of intense emotion I had felt before he left was a result of the initial feelings he had felt coming from me.

  I secured the apartment as tightly as I could, once again finding the sliding door to the balcony unlocked. I checked everything, pulling across the safety latches on the main door and checking the dead bolts on all the windows.

  Like that can stop him.

  It was more about the active process than anything else.

  I considered calling Steph, but her mother had ordered her back home for a night, and what was she going to do if Phoenix returned anyway? I was stronger without having to defend her as well. I’d already dragged Steph into this world more often than I was comfortable with.

  I wanted to call Lincoln, but I could just imagine that conversation: Yeah, so Phoenix was in my apartment while I was in the bath and thinking of him. I’m pretty sure he felt everything I was feeling. Do you think you could come play protector for me? I don’t think so.

  With no one to turn to, I hauled my giant-sized quilt out to the sofa and slept, if you can call it that, in the living room.

  Phoenix was gone but not far.

  I realized now, he never was.

  I couldn’t sense him as easily as I could other exiles. His human part gave him valuable camouflage, and he could mask his presence much more effectively. I didn’t know if I was more disappointed or embarrassed that I had been refusing to acknowledge the truth, but despite his subtlety, I had definitely been feeling him—never as close as this before, but he’d been there.

  Watching. Waiting.

  I now had little doubt. I had felt his intensity in that one burst of emotion, felt his desperate need to eliminate me. Any glimmer of hope that might have once been there—that somehow Phoenix would change, would be that guy I first got to know—was gone.

  Phoenix will kill me.

  Or I’ll kill him.

  “He cast upon them the fierceness of his anger, wrath, and indignation, and trouble, by sending evil angels among them.”

  Psalm 78:49

  Spence and I had been walking around the aircraft factory for hours. It wasn’t my idea of a joyous Sunday. There was nothing so far that had resembled the mottled feeling the senses had given me at the airport. It was no surprise. Despite Spence’s mumblings, he was right when he said we weren’t metal detectors. The senses are designed to pinpoint exiles, not aircraft carriers.

  I was about to grab Spence, who’d decided to make the most of the excursion and was now having a splendid time checking out all the machinery, when I felt the senses—the type that cause no confusion and were definitely not directing me to an airplane.

  The flavor of apple watered in my mouth, seeping through my cheeks and onto my tongue. Morning and evening, the raw beauty of their power, slid in and out of my vision as I smelled bouquets of syrupy flowers, sickly, like concentrated honeysuckle.

  I welcomed the senses, which were now a part of me that I could, in a way, communicate with. I could hear the sound of wings flapping furiously as if struggling to reach me before colliding into trees. Of all the senses, this was the one that always evoked the most emotion in me. Lincoln had explained to me that the sound of the wings—light and dark for doves and ravens—represents the battle for life, the ongoing effort necessary for any living force to survive. The collision of branches and leaves symbolizes the “everything” that must be faced and defeated if a living force is to continue. It’s the choice to go on.

  The final sensation, a humming energy of cool heat, moved through my entire body, traveling to each end and then beyond. It enveloped me and then released me just as smoothly, ensuring that every part of me was now attuned to what lay ahead.

  I acknowledged all of the senses and allowed them to flow through me, do their job, and then I let them go. It was so much easier than it had once been, and each time I felt them, I had more control.

  I looked toward Spence, who had not sensed the exile yet. Even if he had felt an inkling—I wouldn’t have been surprised if he missed it—he was male, after all, and in an aircraft hangar. He was in boy-toy heaven.

  “Spence,” I said. He turned from an engrossing conversation with one of the mechanics and looked at me blankly. He wasn’t going to make this easy.

  “Ah, Spence. I think we should go look over there,” I said, trying to give him the we’ve-got-a-problem look. He missed it completely.

  “Oh, okay. You head over; I’ll be there in a minute,” he said, brushing m
e off and making the mechanic smile.

  Great.

  I put on a big cheesy grin for the mechanic, who was clearly enjoying the show, then I turned it on Spence.

  “Come on, Spency. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll give you an apple for being such a good boy?” I said sarcastically.

  Spence’s eyes grew wide as he realized what I was saying. I was willing to bet, at that moment, his little taste buds were suddenly getting all apple-icious. His eyes darted between me and the mechanic, like a fool. If I wasn’t trying to concentrate so hard on locating our problem, I might have laughed at him.

  He stumbled through a departure speech which only translated to the mechanic that he was under my thumb. The man teased him as Spence tripped over himself to catch up with me.

  “Nice,” I said, as he fell into step with me.

  “Give me a break. I didn’t know.”

  “Really? I never would’ve guessed. Now concentrate. I don’t want to get jumped by a dozen exiles at the moment.”

  “A dozen! Really?”

  I rolled my eyes, but of course the idea of a dozen exiles had Spence almost jumping for joy.

  “No. Not really. I can only sense one…but that doesn’t mean…Look, things have been odd and when it comes to Phoenix, I can’t be sure of anything.”

  Other than that he wants me dead.

  “Got it,” Spence said, giving me a mock salute. I hoped it was his way of finishing the games and getting serious.

  We walked around the back of a small passenger plane and crouched under the wing. There were no mechanics in this area, but there were no exiles either.

  “In there,” Spence said, nodding toward the next massive maintenance room.

  My mouth was dry as I followed. I had a bad feeling and I didn’t like being on a hunt without Lincoln.

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  I thought about telling Spence, explaining to him the problems I’d been having with my dagger. It was hard to admit my failings, especially a problem even I didn’t fully understand. We both knew if there was an exile on the other side of the wall, it would come down to a fight. Could I really ask Spence to go in there with me after telling him I wasn’t sure that, when it came to pulling my dagger, I wouldn’t malfunction?

  “Let’s go,” I said, making my decision and moving forward. I’d work on being a better person another time.

  Spence moved like a pro, probably an advantage of living in the Academy and training every day to be Grigori. I was a little more awkward, forgetting to always check behind and not arranging myself in the most defensive positions. But I watched Spence and tried to follow his spy tactics.

  We hid on our side of the doorway, which led into a massive area of military planes. Everywhere else we had been housed commercial airplanes or private jets. This room was filled with planes of a telltale army green, and some even bore the splotchy camouflage design.

  A guy was walking around the largest of the planes, taking notes in a book. He had sandy-colored hair that went down to his shoulders and he looked young—too young. Everyone else in the factory looked at least thirty. They were probably all qualified personnel. Most workers would have had engineering degrees of some sort, and getting that kind of stuff took time. This guy, who looked no more than eighteen or nineteen, had on a white lab coat and was flicking through the plane’s outer control box as if he really knew what he was doing.

  Spence gave me a knowing look and I nodded. This was our guy. I was willing to bet that to anyone else, he would look different, older and less striking, but we could see past the illusion.

  Spence turned to me and mouthed, “Just one?”

  I was about to nod when I felt something else. It was very faint and didn’t feel like the senses normally did. It was like I was experiencing a kind of lethargic version of them. I put a hand up in the air to stop Spence from launching into combat. He gave me an impatient look. I raised one finger, pleadingly. He nodded.

  As we watched the exile press some more buttons, the front of the aircraft started to open, the entire nose lifting into the air. Spence’s eyes lit up with delight. I knew something about it opening from the front like that had impressed him. I was starting to think he may not have been the best person to bring along.

  “Whoa!” I gasped before I could stop myself. The senses hit me so fast I had to brace a hand on the wall. I looked over to Spence between flashes of morning and evening and could tell he was feeling it too. We looked back at the plane, and out walked another exile from inside. He was tall, like many of them, but also very slender with slick black hair. He looked like a stereotypical lanky villain.

  The two exiles started to talk.

  “All done,” said the lab-coat one.

  “Yes. This will work. The titanium is all in place. We can send it out once we’ve loaded it with supplies. Where’s this one going?”

  The first one shrugged. “Don’t know yet. They won’t tell us till the last minute; you know that.”

  The tall exile harrumphed. “Yeah, yeah. Get it finished off this month so we can get going on the next one.”

  “Won’t be a problem. The mechanics here don’t know what they’re doing. They just bring in the military planes, do the work in a daze, and then they leave. We even use them to fix ’em up and they don’t remember a thing! No one comes in here otherwise; morons don’t think the room exists. It’s the perfect setup,” said the exile, laughing wickedly.

  Horrified, I looked over at Spence. Correction, I looked over to where Spence was supposed to be…and wasn’t. My eyes darted around frantically until I found him crouched under the tail of a nearby army plane. He was waving me over.

  This is so not going to end well.

  I scurried across the floor, crouching as low as I could and trying desperately not to make any more noise than necessary. It wouldn’t be long until they sensed us. In fact, I was surprised they hadn’t already.

  I stopped beside Spence, who was almost laughing out loud at my commando effort.

  “Shut up,” I whispered. “Why are we hiding under this ugly plane anyway?”

  It hadn’t brought us any closer, just to another viewpoint the same distance away.

  He looked at me like I was an idiot. “It’s a better vantage. We can come up behind them from here. And by the way, don’t diss the plane. This is a B1 Bomber. You have to treat it with respect.”

  “Ah, Spence…I hate to burst your bubble, but this thing doesn’t even look like it can fly.”

  “Ah, Vi! It has no wings yet. When this baby is finished, it will be the baddest thing in the sky,” Spence whispered, putting a reverential hand on the underside of the aircraft and bowing his head in praise.

  Give me a break!

  “Okay, all hail the wingless plane. Let’s go.” Knowing that we only had seconds left until the exiles sensed us, there was no point trying to surprise them.

  I stood up and started to move toward them. Spence followed. I was glad I wasn’t relying solely on the element of surprise when my phone beeped with a message.

  Both exiles spun round with super speed.

  “Jeez!” I said sarcastically. “I thought you guys were never going to notice us.”

  Good one, Vi. Piss off the already mentally unstable exiles!

  “And I thought today was going to be boring,” the tall exile said, as he flung himself toward me.

  I knew he was going to do it. One thing about exiles, they don’t hesitate. But even so, I was thrown off-balance by the sheer speed of the onslaught.

  Spence launched into action against the sandy-haired guy. The sounds of punches and kicks popped and echoed throughout the large cement room along with the squeak and screech of rubber-soled shoes on the painted concrete floor.

  The tall exile got in a few early hits when I was caught off guard, but it did
n’t take long for me to find a good rhythm. I might have been having a problem finishing them off, but overpowering them and generally beating them in a contest of strength and ability came naturally.

  I drew the exile in, allowing him to think he was getting the better of me. It meant I had to take a few solid punches to the gut and one to the side of my face, but I absorbed them, and he was getting cocky. As soon as I saw my opening, I was in. He launched a wide arm at me, leaving the rest of his body unguarded. My foot was in the air before I even thought about it and kicking hard into his chest.

  There was a time, a more human time, when I would never have been able to make a move like that—not in speed or agility. Today, it was just about making it happen.

  The exile went down. He wouldn’t be there for long.

  This is my chance.

  My hand went to my concealed weapon. As it did, the exile looked up at me and his eyes widened as his nostrils flared. Something was wrong—very wrong. He was scared.

  I paused, confused. Exiles do not get scared, not like this, anyway. They fight tooth and nail until the very last moment; he wouldn’t think I’d beaten him just because I was reaching for my dagger.

  His shock transferred to me and our mutual surprise gave him enough time to scurry to his feet and scramble back. His eyes were fixed on me, switching from one wrist to the other.

  I smiled. Tough. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

  “I know enough to know you’re as good as dead,” he said, still backing away.

  “Come on, don’t tell me you’re scared,” I teased.

  I noticed the other exile shoot a glance toward us. He obviously wasn’t expecting this turn of events either. Spence used full advantage and hurled his entire body on top of him in an overly dramatic but effective move that was becoming something of a trademark for him.

  I smirked at my target and raised my eyebrows, daring him.

  His mouth twitched at the corner. I could tell he wanted to go on the attack, but he restrained himself, moving away with each step I took toward him.

  At my back, I felt the glow of Spence’s power and heard him yell out the usual spiel, offering the exile a choice. No surprise, the exile told him to eat shit.