by R.K. Ryals
~Bezaliel~
“Sleep,” Marcas prompted after I’d indulged myself heartily on the food left behind by the member of the SOS.
The plate left for me was scrumptious, a pasta dish I didn't recognize with a velvety cheesy tomato sauce I was wary about at first but enjoyed despite my reserve. I stretched out on the bed and stared up. There were faded religious frescoes on the ceiling. The building must be older than it appeared.
“Is it even night anymore?” I asked Marcas.
He looked down at me. He was still sitting back against the headboard.
“Does it matter, Blainey? There will be few opportunities for sleep before long,” he said distantly.
I knew he was right. There was something terrifying coming. I could feel it in my bones. It made me shudder even as Marcas’ heat made me drowsy. My eyes grew heavy, and I dozed.
The dream immediately came to me: my father teaching me about the light, the sudden change to rain, the pain, and the fall. I felt myself waking up, and I fought it. I wouldn’t run away this time. I refused to keep letting this dream win. Darkness engulfed me as I fell and then, without any warning, there was light. Brilliant light. It surrounded me from all sides. It made me blind. I’d found it.
“Dad? I found the light,” I whispered.
It cushioned me, and I gave myself over to it. I felt warm. I rolled over and found myself waking up . . . on Marcas’ chest? What the . . .
“The dream has changed,” Marcas said from beneath my ear.
I pushed away from him and moved a safe distance away. He hadn’t moved which meant I had been the one to lay on him. I wasn’t a lax sleeper. I moved like crazy. My cheeks burned.
“Do you seriously not sleep?” I asked him shortly.
My embarrassment made me sour. Marcas looked up toward the ceiling.
“Sleep is a human need. Those things don’t sustain a Demon,” he muttered. I sighed, my thoughts irrevocably on the books I'd read in the past. In many of them, supernatural beings didn't need to sleep. And he'd said I read too much.
“Gotcha,” I mumbled as I slid from the bed. I’d had enough rest.
“Clothes were sent up for you,” Marcas said from behind me.
I stared at the dresser and saw a pair of blue jeans and a long sleeve black shirt folded neatly on top along with intimate apparel and a pair of socks. I’d have to keep the boots. I looked around the room.
“The bathroom is to your left,” Marcas pointed out.
I glared at him over my shoulder.
“Could you just shut up?” I asked him frostily.
He raised a brow, and I saw an emotion pass briefly over his face that made me pause. Had he smiled? Even just a little?
“Spoken by the Angel who doesn’t know the meaning of silence,” Marcas said unemotionally.
I had to grit my teeth to keep from flipping him the bird. I’d learned my lesson about biting my tongue. I moved into the bathroom and closed the door.
The room I found myself in was made up of Tuscan tile with latte colored walls. There was a large claw tub in front of a arched stained glass window. I twisted the knobs and sighed as steam began to filter into the room. I shed my clothes and sank into the water. I had hoped the bath would help with the anxiety I’d been feeling since arriving at Alessandro’s home, but even the hot water couldn’t ease the fear from my body. It infiltrated every pore. After a few minutes, I gave up on relaxing and ducked under the water just long enough to wash my hair, scrub, and jump out of the tub. I pulled on the clothes I’d grabbed off the dresser and was pleasantly surprised to find the jeans fit well even if the shirt was a little on the big side. The sleeves were too long, and I rolled them up hurriedly.
“What do we do next?” I called out to Marcas as I opened the bathroom door.
The bed was empty. I looked around the room. Nothing. The bedroom door stood open.
“Marcas?” I called out as I moved cautiously into the room. The emptiness made me nervous. Why had Marcas left me? I made it to the open door and peered out into the hall.
“Marcas?” I hissed as I sidled into the corridor. I kept close to the walls. Where the hell could he have gone? I hissed his name again.
“He’s with Alessandro,” a young male voice said patiently from behind me, and I froze.
“Uh . . . ok,” I answered lamely without turning around. I didn’t want to ask him to show me where they were because then I’d look dependent and weak, and I wasn’t having any of that.
“I’ll be glad to show you the facility if you like,” the man behind me offered helpfully.
I turned around slowly and found myself staring open mouthed at the lean blonde-haired man that came into view. He looked at me rather sheepishly.
“Ethan?” I asked in a whisper.
Ethan Jacobs shrugged and leaned back against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest. The gesture was so much like Monroe I wanted to cry. And here I thought Monroe’s oldest brother was away at college.
“What is this?” I asked.
He looked up and down the hall before motioning me back into the bedroom. If it had been anyone other than Ethan, the move would have been a suspect one. I followed him back in.
“I’d ask you the same thing except I suspected you were the one brought here after mom called about Monroe disappearing,” Ethan said calmly.
I just stared at him. He noticed my confusion.
“I work for the SOS, Dayton. I’ve been with them ever since I left home. Our family, on my father’s side, has been involved with them for years,” he said softly.
I just couldn’t quit staring. I thought Monroe’s dad was Wiccan too. Or maybe I’d just assumed that. He had always been gone a lot. And when Monroe talked about Circles, she always chirped on and on about her mom.
“Does Monroe know?” I finally whispered hoarsely.
She would have told me if she knew. I was sure of it. Ethan shook his head.
“She didn’t, but I am sure mother has clued her in by now. Monroe chose mom’s path into Wicca so it seemed unnecessary to reveal anything to her about dad’s occupation."
I sat down on the nearest chair I could find in the room. Why is that people always assumed it was better to keep something hidden rather than be honest? It wasn't protecting anyone from anything. I suddenly felt bad for leaving Monroe. She had as much surprising information to deal with as I did.
“Start from the beginning please,” I begged in astonishment.
Ethan moved over to the chair and leaned down in front of me.
“I assume you know what the SOS is, so I won’t start there. Our group is everywhere. Mainly we are sent where the need for spies is greater or for protection of Solomon’s artifacts. My father was stationed in Lodeston because of your aunt. The Sethian sects can be suspicious at times and your aunt’s order was at the top of our list. Her religious eccentricity was making waves and when the SOS became aware of her involvement with a Demon some years ago, it made us worry,” Ethan explained.
My whole body had gone cold with fear. I didn’t know how to feel about the whole revelation. Had the SOS had spies in the Order? If they had, Marcas and I were screwed. Another thought came to me. Had Monroe revealed the truth about Marcas and me to her family? If she had, Marcas was in serious danger. I fought to play it cool.
“Your father works for the SOS and married a Wiccan?” I asked suspiciously.
Ethan smiled widely and the corners of his eyes crinkled attractively.
“Dad always said there was no saying no to mom. Mom’s side of the family is as deeply entrenched in Wicca as dad’s is in the SOS. They make their religious differences work,” Ethan said with a chuckle.
I’m sure he was imagining his parents. It made me smile too despite my fear. My history with the Jacobs family made me comfortable with Ethan, and I decided to take the plunge.
“How much do you know about me?” I asked Ethan as coolly as possible. <
br />
He stared up at me searchingly.
“Not much. That’s what I came up here to find out. You totally surprised us all, Dayton. Mom mentioned that Monroe had been worried about you recently. She didn’t know why and then you and Monroe suddenly disappeared from Lodeston along with Conor Reinhardt in the company of a Demon. Maybe you should tell me why."
I read the slight censure in his eyes, and I looked away. I’m sure he’d heard about the supposed romantic interlude between Marcas and me. In his eyes, I wasn’t an innocent anymore.
“Have you talked to Monroe?” I asked him unsteadily. I kept avoiding his gaze. I heard him sigh.
“I have. And I’m not exactly happy with her reply or her circumstances."
His tone made me look his way.
“Her reply?”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed.
“She told me to ask you,” he answered.
I almost sighed with relief but looked away instead to hide the smile in my eyes. Trusty ol’ Monroe. My body relaxed.
“I wasn’t happy to find she’d been left with Lexi and Luther. I don’t trust either of them further than I can spit which is why I’ve sent for both her and Conor. I feel safer knowing Monroe will be here with me,” Ethan said almost irritably.
He sounded accusing, but I wouldn’t feel guilty. I didn’t have room in my emotions for that right now. I thought about what he’d said instead. Monroe and Conor were coming here? The thought made me both uneasy and excited. Ethan’s hand came to rest on my knees.
“I need you to tell me what’s going on, Day. Right now, you and your Demon are security risks to us all,” Ethan said imploringly.
I looked down at him. He had no idea. I adopted Marcas’ emotionless expression. My Demon? He was soooo far off.
“I didn’t know he was a Demon when we first became involved,” I said bleakly.
I hated the look Ethan gave me at that word. But, at the same time, I felt surprisingly more forward knowing he thought I was tarnished.
“Involved?” he asked.
I nodded and looked away again. I had to get used to this lying thing.
“I met him at Everett’s on my birthday. I shouldn’t have gone, and most certainly not alone, but if it hadn’t been for Marcas I wouldn’t have discovered what I was,” I said softly. Only part of that was a lie.
I looked back at Ethan. He was watching me closely.
“A Naphil,” he said.
I nodded, and Ethan closed his eyes briefly. I’m sure he was telling himself it was impossible I existed too. I was getting used to knowing I wasn’t supposed to be alive. Or, at the least, not supposed to be sane.
“So Marcas didn’t lie to Alessandro?” Ethan asked.
I shook my head. Not entirely. Ethan stood up and ran a hand through his hair.
“My God, Day. Part Angel? Your aunt really has covered up way more than we anticipated,” he said in agitation.
She hadn't hidden it that well. The Demon Lilith had known. She'd even sent her son to kill me. Ethan looked down at me.
“And Amber?” he asked. He didn’t have to say more. I shook my head.
“We don’t share the same father. We do in looks, but not in make-up."
I hope he made sense of that. I didn’t have the heart to re-tell the story I’d been told about Bezaliel’s assumption of Daniel’s identity. Ethan nodded. I guess this was not unusual for fallen Angels. He stopped next to me and leaned against the wall beside my chair.
“Why the Demon?” Ethan asked me seriously.
I looked down at my hands. How did I answer a question like that? I thought about Marcas a moment. It made my heart feel funny.
“Because, despite what he is, he’s been straight with me where most have lied,” I said honestly.
This time, I wasn’t lying. I stood up and faced Ethan defiantly. The meek Dayton was going to have to go. If Marcas could play this game, I could too. I had come into this situation unhappy, sullen, and unsure, but I was going to leave it by making my own decisions. Choosing to stay with Marcas was up to me now. And I knew we needed that ring.
“What about you, Ethan Jacobs? How much more am I going to have to be faced with? What is Lodeston? The psycho capital of the world? Or the melting pot for religious disorder? How many people in my life are not who they seem to be?” I asked him angrily. Ethan looked surprised. His gaze wandered over me.
“You’ve changed, Dayton."
I glared. “I’ve had to. Answer my questions,” I ordered harshly. Ethan frowned.
“It isn’t just you who’s been surrounded by organizations and people who are involved with things the general public aren’t aware of. You’ve just been dragged into it. Are you even aware how big this is? How big the interaction between Heaven and Hell can be? Earth is the platform for their disagreements and the vacation spot for Demons’ ugly deeds. There is a constant battle for the human soul. We are minute compared to this,” Ethan argued.
I watched him begin to pace. He had grown a lot since the last time I’d seen him. He’d been eighteen when he’d left home. He was twenty now, but he seemed older. He wasn’t as carefree as he used to be. I took in a deep breath. He was right. There was no telling what was going on out there in the world. If I wasn’t a Naphil who’d been bound to a Demon by his insane brother and an eccentric aunt, I’d still be blissfully unaware of it all. Ethan came to a standstill.
“I can’t forget why I’m here,” he said almost to himself.
I stood up straighter. I knew what he was after. He was here to gather information. I’m sure he’d been ordered to confront me as soon as the SOS had discovered his sister and I were close friends. He looked up, and I met his gaze unblinkingly.
“What is your aunt doing with Damon?” Ethan asked pointedly. I shrugged.
“I honestly don’t know. Ask her,” I lied before moving toward the door. Ethan followed me.
“Who is your father, Dayton?”
I turned on him just inside the open door way.
“Bezaliel. Any more questions, Ethan? I’d really like you to take me to Marcas and Alessandro now,” I said bitterly before turning to walk back out the door.
I’d taken only one step when I came face to face with Marcas. He was leaning casually against the wall next to the bedroom.
“I’ll take this from here,” Marcas said flatly as Ethan exited the room. His words were for Ethan, his stare was for me. I met it without flinching. Ethan started to speak but Marcas interrupted him.
“Alessandro could use you now. Demons are approaching. They will be here by nightfall,” Marcas ordered. His gaze never moved from mine. Ethan glanced between us then shook his head before moving away. He was down the stairs before Marcas finally spoke to me.
“You have friends everywhere don’t you, Blainey?” he asked. I shrugged.
“Unexpected ones, I assure you,” I answered him icily. He shoved away from the wall.
“There’ll be more surprises, I’m sure. Come with me, Blainey. You have a lot to learn before tonight."
I stared after him wide-eyed.
“You’re going to teach me how to use my powers?”
My surprise was evident. He nodded slightly. I followed him as he moved down the hall.
“I’m going to fight too?” I asked hesitantly. Marcas paused and turned.
“Maybe, maybe not. But I don’t want you unprepared if you discover you have to,” he answered.
The look in his eyes remained cold. Did he care about what happened to me or was he afraid my being injured could injure him? I didn’t even attempt to discover an answer. It was pointless. Marcas didn’t reveal anything until he was ready to. I let that be my first lesson. I was determined to become the same way. I waited for him to start walking away again, but he surprised me. His gaze searched mine before suddenly moving toward me. I hated when he got close. He towered over me. I stared at his chest. Thank God it was covered. He leaned down and brought his lips clos
e to mine. I almost screamed. What was he doing?
“Are you going to kiss me, Craig?” I asked him shrilly. His expression didn’t change.
“I’d ask you if you wanted me to, but I honestly don’t care, Blainey. We need to find the carpet tonight after the fight,” he whispered against my lips.
My heart was beating so fast and my body was so tense that it took me a minute to realize he was doing this so he could speak to me privately. I swallowed.
“Assuming we make it through the fight,” I said softly. Had I brushed my teeth? I couldn’t remember. Marcas put his hands on my arms. I had to work at staying relaxed.
“We’ll make it through the fight, Blainey. This is just the start of the Demon war. The first wave won’t be as strong as the one coming. I know where the carpet is. Tonight we fight, then leave. Follow my orders explicitly,” he commanded before placing a soft, quick kiss on my lips and moving away. My own lips burned. I wanted to touch them but didn’t want to get caught doing it. It had been a peck, damn it! How great a kiss could that be? I looked up at Marcas expectantly.
“Then you have a lot to teach me and little time to do it in.”
Chapter 31
An Angel’s powers are unique according to the type of Angel. For example, God’s Enforcers have entirely different powers than Guardian Angels. Each Angel must learn to use his abilities accordingly. There has never been a sane Naphil. The type of powers she could harbor is unknown. Many fear her abilities.
