The Airel Saga Box Set: Young Adult Paranormal Romance

by Aaron Patterson

  Enraged, she stood and took to the air. Tonight she would fly. It would feel like the old days for a few dark hours.

  She could not fly away, however, from the one thing that caused her heart to beat now. And Anael had stirred it to action. She wanted only one thing. Only this could bring her peace and fulfillment—causing this city to fall.

  CHAPTER XV

  Zurich, Switzerland—Present Day

  FRANK HAD DEPLANED IN Zurich a little baffled. Emerald had gone—he couldn’t find her. It wasn’t as if he could risk waiting around for her to walk out of the loo or wherever she’d gotten off to. While it was disappointing, Frank reasoned that he had bigger fish to fry on this bright and sunny day.

  The buyer, for one. What any fool would want with an old book stuffed with nothing but blank pages was beyond him. Well, they weren’t all blank, were they? There was that very last page, wasn’t there? “But she lived,” Frank said aloud, driving his freshly hired full-size Merc on the wrong side of the road, and on the wrong side of the car, for that matter.

  He chuckled as a low sun in a northern hemisphere winter crested the Alps and began to sparkle off Lake Zurich. Life was quirky. “But she lived,” he said again, and he wondered who “she” was. “Perhaps her name is that word I heard on the beach there,” he said, “when I first picked the book up.” But what was that word? Heiress? No. It was something else.

  Frank Wiseman parked the car along the curb of a street that started with the letter G and got out, scanning at the slip of paper in his fat fingers. He read the address and looked around at the building numbers for confirmation. It was not the worst part of town, but then again, this was Switzerland. There were no bad parts. Such things the Swiss did not allow.

  There. “Building two, number seventeen, G Street.” It was actually Gasstrasse, but who cared. It was a neighborhood of multistory walkups, flats where people either lived or did business, the odd dance studio or naturopathic doctor’s office. Or book buyer. Frank wasn’t sure if he ought to suspect a proper bookshop or a private residence when he rang the bell.

  There came from within a muffled Swiss-German reply. Friendly. Bidding him to be patient, probably. He adjusted his overcoat around his body, checked the pocket—the Stone was there—and clasped his hands together over the book in front of him, looking up at the door, anticipating the face he would see when it opened.

  “Well, isn’t this a pleasant surprise.” Emerald Ruby, the woman he lusted after, stood in the doorway in a painted-on red dress.

  A ruby dress. “I say. Fate has smiled upon us, dear girl. You look amazing, as ever.” Frank felt his blood stir and something in him made whispers from long-forgotten places.

  “Thank you, Mr. Wiseman. And what should bring you to my door? Oh, wait. Don’t tell me. Are you my appointment?” She ran her finger down the bare skin of her neck and let it linger low in the V of her dress.

  Frank had to force himself from the trance in which he found himself. She was beautiful … well, not beautiful, but sexy . . . but she was far too young for him. “I am indeed the seller. You must be the buyer I’ve heard so much about. I never imagined . . . but why do you work as an airline stewardess?”

  She stepped aside, inviting him in. “Rare books are not as profitable as one might think, Mr. Wiseman. And technically, I work with the buyer. You can call me his secretary.”

  Frank stepped inside the dimly lit entry, breathing in the bouquet of her scent as he passed by. She smells like honey and . . . and . . .

  The door slammed shut and something tore behind him. He smiled, allowing his imagination to run wild. She wants me so bad, she tore her own dress off. As he turned around, he saw that he was only half right.

  Frank had no time to scream as her barbed tail whipped around, slicing him across the face. Blood splattered the wall, he dropped the book, and it landed at her feet.

  “Now we get to play,” she said. “Do you like to play, Frankie boy? I do. My momma used to tell me not to play with my food, but I showed her.”

  Frank couldn’t find words for what he now saw. The superhuman strength for which he had cultured a taste left him. He fell to his knees, soiling his pants.

  The demon slithered free from Emerald’s body, and she staggered half naked into another room.

  Black goo dripped from rows of long fangs. The monster spread out one wing and then another, balancing itself. “You have done well, pawn.” The demon’s voice was like gravel, and as its hot breath blasted Frank’s face, he understood that this was all the thanks he would receive. He trembled, trying to stand, but the demon grasped him bodily in one pincer, ripping him in half at the waist. Frank was aware of the pain. He was aware of the shock. He was aware of his feelings that this kind of treatment was unfair to him. His thoughts briefly condemned him with one word—Kimberley. But the pain was too intense.

  And the Bloodstone was free. Frank could see it on the floor on the opposite side of the room. By his legs.

  The demon picked up his bloody legs, popped them into his mouth, and crunched. Blood smeared his teeth and gushed down, splattering on the floor.

  The Bloodstone hummed on the floor in front of the beast. It was calling now not to Frank, but to the beast—it wanted to belong to another.

  So the beast took it and then finished his meal.

  ***

  THE THREE ANTICHERUBIM MANIFESTED in the present day, in the darkness of a desert night in Arabia, the moon above merely a discarded fingernail clipping, cast among cursedly sparkling crumbs of the detritus of the sky. The three crawled up from the pit of a thin place into the blinding light of a black night, the stars set like jewels in a veil of ink above. This was the veil El had drawn to hide himself from those creatures he had made to dwell under the sun. Beauty is hatred; hatred is beauty, they thought together, and then the larger one stopped and twisted its neck around.

  “The Bloodstone has been found. Two of us shall go as one, but you, Magi, must stay to guard this place.” Green eyes flashed and with a flick of her tongue, Magi, the smallest of the three, obeyed without a word. She was the smallest, but by no means the weakest. In fact, she was faster and stronger than the others. There would be none better to guard the thin place, to keep any other creatures from coming through until the appointed time.

  Magi watched the other two anticherubim as they turned west over the sands, seeking the assigned prince who would carry the Bloodstone into battle. They darted above the sand in spastic twitches, flitting like insects, and they were very fast. They would reach their destination very soon, the land where it all started, where the First Dawn had occurred in the First Age.

  The mountains of Hijaz.

  Where Eden once was.

  On the way, their simple assignment was to gather the true heir and escort him to Hijaz, where the new Seer would be anointed with the blood of the Tree.

  Among the many kingdoms of men on the earth, there were rulers who thought the honor of Seer would be theirs. But Magi’s master was the only one who could lay claim in truth, though some there would be those who argued otherwise. The war for which the Brotherhood hungered was coming quickly; the people of the earth would be caught in the middle. But this world was rightfully Brotherhood territory. It was theirs in the beginning when man gave it over in the Garden. Mankind had been deceived for thousands of years, but the time was now here—the dawn of the chastening of man had come.

  CHAPTER XVI

  Boise, Idaho—Present Day

  ONE THING I DECIDED—yeah, Earl Grey’s not my cup of tea. I wrinkled my nose.

  Michael laughed. “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse. Who would like this stuff? I mean, besides Ellie. She’s weird, so that doesn’t count.”

  “I like tea,” Michael said, defending her even though she wasn’t there. “A good black tea with honey in the morning can be quite refreshing.”

  “Ha. You two can have it. I can see why they tossed it overboard.” We sat across from each other in the
Cheesecake Factory. Michael wanted to take me out on a “date” and this was the first place he had ever taken me. But that awesome dress and that naïve life seemed like ages ago. I changed the subject. “So, how is your new foster family?”

  Michael’s eyes darkened and his bad mood returned. “Okay, I guess. I should leave—blow this town and live out on my own.”

  “I know, Michael,” I said, touching his hand, “but we only need to make it to graduation. Then we can go together.” Because Michael was a minor, the State of Idaho had placed him with Child Protective Services until everything with his father got ironed out.

  “I should have skipped out before the cops took all my stuff for evidence. Now I have nothing.” He cursed. I still didn’t understand what was going on and how they could do that to him.

  “What is probate, anyway?” I asked.

  “Who knows. It means I’m broke and have to put up with stupid foster parents.” He made air quotes around this last word. Michael had been distant the past few weeks. I was trying to be supportive and understanding, but it was starting to get old. I had my own problems and I needed him; I didn’t have much left to offer before my heart gave out. I could feel it.

  He gave me his trademark half smile. “It’ll be okay. Besides, you hear all the talk around school? Or the lack of talk—it’s like I grew a third eye or something. Between the kidnapping, Kim’s death, and my dad, we’re the local freaks.”

  “Hey, that’s not true.” I knew it was, though; people avoided even making eye contact with me. I was glad I had Ellie to hang out with so I didn’t look like a total loser.

  “You know it is, Airel. Even the guys on the team are acting weird. I find out about parties the day after, and nobody talks to me anymore in the locker room even though I’m the guy who’s getting us to state this year.”

  “Well, at least they found you a home in the same district so you didn’t have to change schools. And you guys are killing it this year.”

  He seemed to brighten a little when I said that. Since they had “lost” James, their star quarterback, Coach Dennis offered the job to Michael and he filled in, doing better than James had ever done. In Michael’s first start, our team beat Boise High 38-0. He passed and rushed for over a hundred yards each. And yeah, the quarterback’s girlfriend can totally memorize the stats and brag on her guy. I had hoped his growing fame on the field would translate to the halls, but I wasn’t so sure.

  I listened to Michael talk shop, the different plays and all that. I let myself enjoy the moment. He was happy, and even if it would only last until the end of the conversation, I would take what I could get and hope he would get something out of it too.

  It went without saying that Michael and I were important to each other, and that, in spite of my parents’ wishes to the contrary, we were still together. It was also true that I loved him, but things were not the same between us. I had faith that things would get better eventually, but that got harder to believe every day. Mostly, I felt like I was the only one rooting for us. Every time I saw him, it was like he was less Michael and more something else. I worried that he was really depressed, that he wouldn’t be able to pull himself out of it on his own. Worse, I didn’t know how to help him.

  ***

  “DON’T LOOK NOW, BUT guess who?” Ellie had her back to the long row of lockers and was fussing absentmindedly over her nails.

  I dropped a book on purpose so I could see where her eyes were motioning without looking like a total idiot. It was Dirk Elliott, only a few feet away, staring in our direction. I turned back to Ellie. “He sure isn’t shy about liking you,” I whispered. “You should put him out of his misery and go talk to him.”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “He likes you, not me, silly. Besides, I don’t think he likes my blue hair.”

  “Not possible. How could he not like you? He’s in a band, you’re exotic … it’s a no-brainer.” I shoved the rest of my books into my locker and slammed it shut. “Look into my eyes, Ellie. It’s Michael … me and Michael.”

  “You mean demon boy?”

  I glared at her.

  “Sorry … old habit.” She sighed. “Fine, you and Michael, I’ll be good.” She tensed. “Um … oh, wait, uh, Airel.”

  “What? Is the hot hunk of a man standing behind me going to make me go all weak in the knees and fall all over myself for him?”

  Someone cleared his throat behind me. I glared at Ellie and then spun around.

  Dirk was standing there, smiling at me. He had one hand in his back pocket and the other was offering up the book I’d dropped.

  “Oh, hi. Thanks.” I grabbed the book and turned to face Ellie, glaring at her again “I think.” I hoped she could read me loud and clear as I thought, I am going to kill you as soon as I can.

  “My name’s Dirk Elliott.”

  I turned back toward him. “Hi. How are you?” He offered his hand and I shook it, barely managing to keep from laughing out loud. “Here’s the deal,” I said, trying to begin to explain my faux pas. “I was just telling my friend here that all the girls think you’re hot, that you’ll have your pick of the litter.”

  Ellie shouldered her way next to me and chewed her gum in my ear. Are you trying to be annoying? “Hey, I’m Ellie. I’m glad to meet you. So, how’s Boise compared to … where are you from again? It’s some fruit, right?”

  Dirk laughed. It was a nice laugh. “Orange County.” He turned back to me and I felt uncomfortable with how he was looking at me. “What did you say your name was again?”

  “I didn’t, but it’s Airel.”

  “Oh, like the mermaid?”

  I groaned. “No, not like the mermaid. It’s spelled A-i-r-e-l. Airel.”

  “Sorry. You must get that a lot.”

  “No, not really.”

  We all stood there as the other kids in the hall pretended not to be watching the whole thing. Ellie appeared to be enjoying the silence—the very awkward silence.

  “So, I’m a drummer…” Dirk made the brave attempt to start up the conversation again. “I sing a little too, and my band has got this thing on Friday night at the District coffeehouse. I was thinking that since I have the—how did you put it? Pick of the litter?”

  “Oh.” I didn’t like where this was going.

  “Would you like to go to the show? We’ll grab something to eat afterward.”

  “I have a boyfriend,” I said.

  “I know. Michael, right?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Where’s he going with this?

  “Bring him along,” he said. “You should come too, Ellie. We need to pack the place out.”

  “Oh, I …” I felt stupid. Am I not reading this guy right?

  Dirk went on. “I mean, I would much rather go with only you, Airel, but if I have to hang with your boyfriend in order to see more of that stunning face, so be it.”

  Stunned, I clamped my jaw shut. I wanted to slap him. But I smiled instead. “How do I say, ‘No, not in a million years’ in such a way that you’ll never talk to me again?” My hands were warm. Kreios’s training kicked right in; I remembered to hold back my anger so I wouldn’t, you know, accidentally kill something or someone.

  “Easy there. I was only asking,” Dirk said, chuckling. “How could any guy not try? You’re flat-out gorgeous. I mean, look at you.” He smiled with a little too much charm and then walked away. He seemed like he had really thick skin—he wasn’t flustered at all.

  “Hmmm,” Ellie said, “that went differently than I imagined it would.”

  I socked her in the arm. “You can shut it.”

  “What did I do?”

  “You know what you did,” I replied, even though it made no sense. I figured she would maybe guilt herself into remorse eventually.

  Ellie giggled. “Yeah, I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna rethink my age difference rule.” She swatted my butt. “Rawr.”

  I almost fell down laughing. Ellie was like my best friend lately. That realization hit m
e really hard because I had come upon it without my Kimmie. I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry; there was only a wild sea of feelings. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to navigate it successfully. But as I looked at Ellie’s face, as we laughed together about the dumbest stuff, I at least had hope.

  ***

  THE WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS break on a Friday night, when we’d beaten Timberline, I waited for Michael outside the locker room after the game. I only had about a half an hour to get home before my curfew expired, but I didn’t care. I cared about Michael. The night felt so good. We had won. Michael was the star of the victory, and I was his girl, and the lights were still on over the field. Wispy snow flurries swirled into these white-yellow cones of light from out of nowhere; they went from being invisible in the black to shimmering like tiny mirrors in the light, making me feel like I was in a fairy tale. I could see my breath. The grass of the field smelled rich and dense, and the night sky was a blanket that made the world feel very small.

  All I wanted was to live in this moment, for this lush feeling of rightness, of safety, to never end.

  Michael came walking out of the double doors smiling at me. “Hey.”

  “Hey, mister. Good game.”

  “Aw, thanks. I keep hearing people say how good I am.”

  “Well, yeah. How does it feel to be going to state?”

  He shrugged, and I could tell that it probably felt hollow. For a lot of reasons. “You know what a Pyrrhic victory is?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “One that costs too much.”

  His eyes were rimmed with moisture, and the exhalation that came from his nose produced a cloud of vapor that quickly cooled and dissolved into the air. “Yeah. One that costs too much.” He looked at me. “Airel.” He pulled me closer.

  I looked up at him. “Yes.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “Me too.”

  Everyone else filtered out and went away, and then as the moment decayed into nearly an hour, the field lights turned off and the stars became visible high above. We held hands and walked around the field in the dark.