Transgression

by Brandy C. Ange

  Achaia smiled at his attempt to cover his mouth as he chewed and spoke. “Seattle had great coffee, but LA has more coffee shops than any other city in the country. Some of those coffee shops had some pretty unique drinks.” She picked around her plate for something that looked edible.

  Emile nodded, attentive to every word.

  Achaia went on, “I liked being outside in Phoenix and Tucson, it’s a different atmosphere there. Houston and Nashville were fun. I hated Tampa. The whole time we lived there it felt like the vacation from hell. I was actually happy that time when my dad told me we were moving again.” Achaia took a bite of pasta salad and just about spit it out, she made a mental note to pack a lunch the next day; if there was a next day.

  “Olivier says you’re moving again?” Emile frowned. “Any idea where you’re heading next?”

  Achaia shook her head. “What about you? Have you always lived in New York?” She asked, changing the subject to him.

  “No, actually I was born in France, I lived there until I was twelve.” Done with his meal, he fiddled with the cap of his water bottle.

  “Olivier never mentioned that! Why did your family move to the US?” Achaia asked, risking a bite of green beans.

  “Well, my mom and dad sent Amelia and me here for school. Olivier was driving them crazy without us, so they sent him not long after.”

  “They sent you to America for this?” Achaia said holding her arms out around her and grandly gesturing to the cafeteria at large.

  Emile shrugged and nodded. “And— It’s, I guess, a sort of extra-curricular program?”

  “So, your parents didn’t move? Who do you live with?”

  “Our guardian, Yellaina’s dad. I guess you could call him a sort of mentor. We do most of our learning outside of school.” Emile said, though he was beginning to look a little more guarded.

  “Well that explains why Yellaina is pretty much already fluent in French.”

  Emile nodded. “She spends more time studying than the rest of us.” Emile smiled. Achaia found herself hoping that he wasn’t dating her.

  “Is she your girlfriend?” She asked cautiously.

  Emile laughed. “No! She is definitely more like a sister to me than anything.” His cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

  “Gotcha, just wondering.” She swallowed hard but tried to move along quickly. “So this program, is that the foreign exchange program Noland was talking about?”

  “Yeah, He and Yellaina were kind of the first students here at the New York Academy. But we can travel to the different Academies to learn from instructors all over the world.”

  “Wow. That sounds expensive. Why would you still go to public school?”

  “Socialization?” Emile shrugged. “The Academy is pretty small, and some Academies only have one student, at times. So we attend public schools so we can interact with local peers. It also helps with language emersion.”

  “Well, I’m officially jealous. How do you get into that program?” She asked, finally pushing her tray away and giving up on her lunch entirely.

  “You basically have to be born into it. It’s a network of families.” Emile tried not to sound smug, but he also sounded like he didn’t really want to talk about it anymore.

  Achaia was saved from coming up with anything further to say by the bell ringing. “Well I’ve got to get to Bio.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got calculous next.” He said collecting his things. Achaia stood, but when she went to grab her tray Emile had already stacked it onto his own. “I’ve got this, you go on. It was good talking to you.” He smiled.

  “You too, thanks for letting me sit with you.”

  “Letting you? You saved me, remember–” He winked at her and took her tray to the garbage and cleaning bins. Achaia smiled and left the cafeteria for class.

  Shael had been walking for hours around the city in circles. He was too weak and slow to lose the demons tracking him, and knew the time had come. He was going to be taken, whether he wanted to surrender or not.

  He made his way back toward Chelsea, looking like a drunk man, the way he kept stumbling and falling over. He caught himself on a trash can and tried to catch his breath. His head was spinning, his stomach was empty, and he felt like he was about to pass out from the pain in his side and headache. Shael shuffled along to the subway to conserve his strength. He got off, and made his way back to the apartment, perfectly aware that he was being followed. He hoped and prayed Achaia had gone to school, and hadn’t stayed home waiting for him.

  He opened the door, and breathed a sigh of relief as the apartment appeared to be vacant. He shut the door and bolted it behind him. He guessed he only had minutes. He leaned heavily against the counter, scribbling a quick note. When they had lived in Washington, Shael had put extra protections around Ira’s home, hoping to protect the old man from any harm. He wasn’t granted a Guardian, but Shael knew how valuable his insight had been in Anna’s life, and he wanted to insure he would be around for whoever rose up in her absence. Naphtali would know this, and hopefully take Achaia there tonight. Achaia would know Ira, they usually spent Thanksgiving with him, and he was like a grandfather to her. He was getting very old now, and Shael liked the idea of Achaia and Ira keeping each other company when he was gone.

  Shael leaned against the hall wall, working his way into his bedroom to get the vial of hyssop Rebecca had given him. He rubbed it on the bite on his arm, and into the cuts on his side. He heard the doorknob shaking violently as someone tried to get in.

  Shael tucked a dagger into his belt, and the hyssop into his pocket, and walked with all of his remaining strength boldly into the living room. The doorknob broke as the shaking became more violent. Shael vaguely heard mumbled voices from the other side. He leaned against the counter and waited. The door vibrated, and the surface of it began to shimmer with condensation. The droplets from the door joined together in the air before him, and shaped themselves into a translucent body, which solidified into a demon made of ice. It looked like a sculpture, but its mobility was not impaired by its frigid looking limbs. More demons followed him. They came through the front door, and the widow by the fire escape. Shael was surrounded by at least ten of the creatures.

  “Greetings.” Shael said, trying to look as if he were casually leaning against the counter, instead of relying on it.

  “Shael.” The first demon to enter spoke. His voice was high pitched and airy. “It is time to stop running and embrace your fate.”

  “You know what, I was thinking that myself, just this morning.” Shael said casually.

  “Then, you will come with us?” The demon asked surprised.

  “Sure.” Shael said, going to stand. His stomach twisted as he thought of the last time he had seen Achaia. He hadn’t gotten to say goodbye, hadn’t ever explained himself. Would she hate him? Would she be afraid? He was leaving her an orphan. His throat grew sore, as he tried to maintain his composure and not show weakness before the demons surrounding him. He wasn’t ready to leave. In all the times he had imagined it, it had never been like this. In his mind, he had always had more time. “Why not?”

  The demon nodded to the demon standing closest to Shael.

  “Oh that’s not necessary,” Shael started, but the demon had already raised its clubbed icy fist. He brought it down on Shael’s temple.

  At the end of the day Achaia looked down the hall to see if Olivier and the rest of them were standing there, but having left her last class a little late she’d missed them. She had somehow managed to push her father out of her mind and focus in her last few classes. But she was glad the day was over. A dark cloud was forming in the back of her mind at the thought of going home. Would her father be there?

  “Hey,” a voice came from behind her. She turned to see Emile walking towards her a few feet away.

  “Oh, hey!” Achaia smiled sweetly as he stopped next to her at her locker. She adjusted her book bag on her shoulder.


  “So, headed out?” he asked smiling. He had thin little wrinkles around his eyes when he smiled. And his forehead wrinkled up, too, with most of his facial expressions, which she found to be endearing about him.

  “Yep.” She smiled turning around to walk with him.

  “So, any plans for this weekend?” he asked politely.

  “Not really, other than repacking what I just unpacked. You?”

  “Yeah, nothing really yet. I don’t really make the plans. I just kind of go with them.” He shrugged the strap of the messenger bag he wore over his left shoulder. He was wearing a black pea-coat but even through the thick material Achaia could tell he was built.

  “Do you play sports?” She blurted out without thinking. “Sorry, that was random.”

  Emile chuckled. “No. No, that’s more Olivier and Noland’s territory. Why do you ask?”

  Achaia didn’t answer; she just looked down at his arms.

  “Oh,” he smiled as they reached the doors to go outside. “Na, I just work out.” He raised the collar of his jacket against the wind, squinting his eyes as it blew. “You’re pretty fit looking too,” he added, squinting down at her. “Do you play anything?”

  “Oh,” Achaia looked down at herself in her puffy white jacket. “Yeah, I don’t know. I guess it’s natural. I don’t really work out or anything. In fact, with the way I eat, I deserve to be fat.”

  Emile laughed a hearty, throaty laugh. It sounded nice. “That’s great.” By this time they’d reached the buses. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later?”

  “Yeah, I hope so,” Achaia said leaving him in a line outside of one bus as she walked to catch another.

  The bus ride to Achaia’s neighborhood was jerky at best. Every little annoyance was setting her teeth on edge; the cuffs on her jacket were itchy, and she was getting a rash around her wrist from scratching. The guy standing in the aisle next to her smelled like cigarettes and body odor, and the freshman girl across from her was listening to Taylor Swift too loudly in spite of using ear buds.

  On top of it all, her stomach was growling incessantly too, since she’d given up on her lunch in the cafeteria. Her stop arrived about twenty minutes too late for her liking. She was sluggish getting off the bus, grateful for the chilly, yet fresh air. As her feet reached the sidewalk, she adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder and took a deep breath to try to settle her nerves. She opened her mouth wide to stretch out her jaw and started walking down the block.

  She took off toward her apartment building at a brisk pace, her mind racing. Would her dad be home? She climbed the stairs in spurts, losing her breath occasionally. She wasn’t as in-shape as she looked.

  When she reached the door to her apartment she stopped a few feet short, noticing that the doorknob was hanging out of the door, leaving a hole which you could see through into the apartment. Achaia pushed against the door with her body. The door was still shut tight, the inside deadbolt was still fastened. Her first thought was that someone had tried to break in.

  Achaia knocked loudly on the door. Her dad had to be home if it was locked from the inside. She felt a cold sting on her leg and looked down to see that something had dripped onto her pants. The doorknob was wet. That’s weird. “Dad, are you home?” She knocked again, even more loudly. “Dad!”

  “Shut up!” A voice called from down the hall, the voice of the cranky old lady from 7B.

  “You shut up!” Achaia yelled back out of frustration.

  “Oh, very nice,” A calmer voice said from behind her, sounding half amused, half concerned.

  Achaia turned to see Olivier standing in the hall, looking rather alert. His weight was distributed evenly between his feet, and his arms hung a little ways from his sides. “What are you…? How did you…?” Achaia stammered in confusion looking from his straight face to her door.

  “I have something to tell you.” He said taking a look behind him. Just then, Emile rounded the corner followed by Noland.

  “What in the…” She started, stopping as Olivier put his hand on her hip, pushing her lightly aside to look through the hole in the door.

  Emile grabbed her gently by the arm and pulled her closer to his side. “Just wait, we’ll explain.” Olivier stood up again and backed a couple feet away from the door.

  “What is he going to…?” Achaia started as Noland came around and kicked down the door. “What are you thinking?” Achaia yelled. “I could have called the landlord, he could have gotten us in. My dad isn’t going to get his deposit back now!”

  “This way was faster.” Noland said taking a few steps into the apartment. He looked around cautiously, and proceeded inside, checking each room for intruders. He stepped back out seemingly satisfied, and Emile moved forward, Achaia’s arm still in his grasp.

  When all four of them were inside Olivier set the door back into its frame and stood in front of the hole.

  “People just don’t do that in real life!” Achaia argued looking from the door to Noland with a very stern look. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Y’all are really starting to freak me out.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Emile said sincerely. He had his arm around her now. With his hand on her arm, he began to rub up and down. It was soothing, despite her anger. “Let us explain.”

  She wiggled away from him and clung to the counter for support. Emile dropped his eyes to the floor with an abashed look on his face. Noland’s mouth flinched in the direction of a smile before he and Olivier exchanged loaded glances.

  Noland walked around the room and yanked something off the refrigerator. “He’s gone,” He exclaimed handing the note to Emile. “We’re too late.”

  Achaia snatched it from him and read it. It doesn’t make any sense; why would he want me to go to Uncle Ira’s? Where is he? Too late for what?

  There was a pounding on the door. “Let me in!”

  “Naphtali!” Achaia called out as Olivier turned to open the door. Naphtali came in, shutting the door behind him. The hinges were barely hanging on and the trim was blown to bits around its edges.

  “Shut up!” 7B yelled again from down the hall.

  Naphtali rolled his eyes at the old woman, but his face was calm; how did he not think this sight strange?

  “Thanks for coming. I knew you could get here before me.” He spoke directly to Noland. “I got here as fast as I could.”

  How do they know each other? Achaia thought looking between the two of them.

  “He’s got him. Finally. He’s been on the run for years. I never thought he’d make it this long.” Everyone around her was nodding.

  “Somebody owes me an explanation,” Achaia said crossing her arms.

  Naphtali looked her dead in the eyes but fidgeted with his hands.

  “Okay, so maybe this would be easier if it weren’t like an intervention,” Olivier spoke up. “Come on, I’ll explain everything.”

  “No, you won’t either,” Naphtali spoke up taking a few steps toward her. He was cautious, as though she would explode at any second. She knew she must look livid.

  Reluctantly, Achaia followed Naphtali to her bedroom, which was still crowded with boxes. He led her over to her bed and sat her down. Sitting on a large packing box in front of her he smiled, but it was obvious he was thinking of what to say first; trying to be sensitive to the fact that she was feeling anxious enough as it was.

  “So, what would you say, if I told you your dad is a supernatural being?”

  “I’d say you’re full of sh—”

  “Or that you were one,” he broke in.

  Achaia stopped short, simply taken off guard by the ridiculousness of his statement. She stood to head for the door. “If you’re not going to be serious…”

  “Wait.” Naphtali stood as she passed him and held on to her arm.

  “What the hell is going on here? This isn’t a great time for jokes.” Achaia stepped back away from him. Tripping over a box, and landing hard on the floor, she brought her knees into
her chest and wrapped her arms around them.

  “Are you alright?” Naphtali asked, looking down at her. He had flinched forward, but had been unable to prevent her falling.

  “What do you think?” She said bitterly. “What are you even talking about?” She choked back tears. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying, maybe just out of frustration.

  “Okay, okay,” Naphtali sat on the floor next to her, putting his arm around her he held her closely.

  “Please, don’t touch me right now.”

  “Alright, let’s just calm down for a second.” He said holding up his hands as if she was holding a gun at him.

  Achaia took a few deep breaths. After her breathing had fallen back into its normal rhythm, Naphtali scooted around on the floor to face her.

  “Have you ever heard of Nephilim?”

  “I don’t know. What, like angels?” Achaia didn’t even try to keep the bite of frustration out of her voice.

  Naphtali nodded. “Kind of, yeah.”

  “I saw something about it on TV, once. Why?” Achaia asked furrowing her brow. She couldn’t help but sound angry and sarcastic, even if she didn’t mean to. This was all just too unbelievable. She fought the urge to look around for a prank show’s hidden cameras, keeping her eyes glued to Naphtali’s out of desperation and curiosity.

  He was looking a little more optimistic with every second, which for some reason made her feel more comfortable. “Well, Nephilim used to be just angels. How much do you know about Satan? God? The Bible?”

  “Not much. Dad didn’t ever want to talk about it. He wouldn’t ever let me go to church or anything,” Achaia said rubbing her thumb back and forth on the knee of her jeans.

  “That’s not surprising. Okay, well, I’m sure you know of the Devil and God, right?”

  Achaia nodded.

  “Okay, well, Satan was banished from Heaven for wanting to be like God, trying to take his place, to make a long story short. There was a war, a battle; Satan had some of the angels on his side. They believed they were fighting for equality. I don’t think many of them realized it was really just a mutiny, an attempt at a hostile takeover. When their battle was lost, they were all banished from the heavens, sent to a prison created especially for them, Hell. After they were banished, many of the angels repented. They realized what they had been led to believe was a lie.