Wars & Wings

by Kristin D. Van Risseghem

  The blast is so powerful that my wings cannot hold me in place. The lava radius covers more than 100 miles. The ocean answers the volcano’s cry with its own sizzling and dancing as the molten liquid joins into its body.

  Every time a volcano flares up, I feel it in my wings. More than 450 volcanoes erupt within the same hour.

  The deafening silence of souls brings a smile to my face.

  I’M EUPHORIC WHEN I return to the vocivus room to spy on her.

  Zoe’s ending her stretches and is about to meditate. I know her routine by now since I’ve been watching her for the last couple of weeks.

  Her powers are emerging faster than they should. It’s still weeks before her birthday. There is nothing normal about this girl.

  She doesn’t seem to know I’m there. I have caught her a few times glancing around the room as if she could feel my presence. But that’s impossible. There is no other angel on earth like me. I have eons of practice to mask myself. A newbie like her couldn’t possibly detect me.

  Could she?

  Doubts creep into my mind and thus ending my glee from my trip.

  I need to get that feeling back; it’s like a drug. I should find another soul to annoy, but she is right here, and I love baiting her.

  Without further thought, I interrupt her quiet time. Her eyes are closed as she sits on the bed, yoga style. I tuck my wings behind me and wait against the wall. My appearance is barely visible.

  I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest, it becomes erratic. A muscle on her face twitches. She tucks a stray hair behind her ears. A loud sigh escapes her lips.

  “Hello, Aiden.” She opens her eyes. “Come to torment me some more?”

  “I’m hurt.” I mockingly place a hand over my heart, that she can’t see.

  “Then you’ve come to gloat about something.”

  “Boy, you are getting to know me so well.”

  How did that happen? Maybe she’s becoming astute to her surroundings. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be visiting her like this. I should leave her alone.

  “I know nothing about you, actually.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “You are different today.” Her eyes become slits. She’s suspicious. “What’s changed?”

  I let myself become visible to her and remain in my ghost-like form. “If you don’t want to ask me anything, then I’ll leave.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “I’ll give you a chance to ask me three questions. Anything you want.”

  “Anything?”

  “Yes. I might not answer the question, but that’s the risk you’ll have to take. Think of it as an early birthday gift. Now, what’s your first question?”

  “Why did you kidnap me?”

  “Getting right into the meat of this.” I motion for her to follow me to the couch and chair and for her to sit in one of them. She chooses the sofa. “You told me in your backyard that you were the Redeemer. If that’s true, when you turn eighteen you’ll get wings. And if you fight for Heaven, you’ll also receive a Mark. If you get those two things, you are the one in the prophesy; the lone girl who will start Armageddon.” Needing to solidify my body, I cross my ankle over a knee. “The cage that Sammael is being held in will open. He’ll lift the Veil between Hell and Earth and allow demons to pour into your realm. You and your friends will try to stop that from happening, and I can’t allow that.” I stare at her. “Next question.”

  “You’re a demon?” She doesn’t miss a beat. Her head tilts to the side.

  Should I answer that? She’ll know more about me. What could it hurt? I think of all the possibilities. She could tell her friends, but they’ll find out eventually and tell her. The demon world is a bunch of back-stabbing traitors. Someone will leak something.

  “Yes,” I say.

  I’m sucked into watching her brown eyes try to sort something out. She fidgets with that stray piece of hair that always comes untucked from behind her ear.

  “Are you the Prince of Hell?” she finally asks.

  “I’m called many things by many beings.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  “And that is a fourth question and I won’t answer.”

  I fade from her view.

  THAT WAS CLOSE, TOO close. Zoe is smarter than I thought.

  Time to start phase two of my plan. I think Quinn’s ready. It’s been six weeks of solid training with her. She’s mastered the control of her wings. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was a natural at this. I chuckle at the thought. All Nephilim are good at a lot of things. They need to be superior and at the top of their game all the time. It didn’t surprise me that Quinn wasn’t any different.

  She learned flying with ease. I showed her defensive maneuvers and aerial tactics. Never once did she question me. I think she wanted to be special and part of something bigger.

  Little does she know that she’s in the center of things and critical to my plan. Today, I’m going to show her the art of weaponry. I pull out my phone to send her a text.

  Me: Come over after school

  Immediately, my cell chimes with an incoming text.

  Quinn: OK, can’t wait to see what we’re doing today

  I couldn’t stand the thought of going back to that dreadful place they call a school since I managed to secure Zoe in the vocivus room. Oh, hells no. High school was the last place I wanted to be, so I dropped out. Who is going to stop me? My sister? Nope. I outrank her, and if she runs to daddy, well, I’ll deal with that later. And really what’s he going to do about it since he’s still stuck in his cage? If and when he gets let out, I’ll worry about that later. I’ll take my chances that he doesn’t find out I disobeyed him.

  The basement is stocked like I’m ready for World War Three. Racks and cases are filled with daggers, knives, swords, and guns. As I wait for Quinn to arrive, I select a variety to use for training.

  She will need to be proficient in using them all and more. I don’t expect her to grasp everything today, but I also need to see which weapon calls to her. So far, her Nephilim Sword has not appeared, and I don’t know why.

  On the far wall that runs the length of the house, I place bows and arrows on top of a small table and drag straw targets to the opposite end of the room. Right above the bales we’re using for the arrows, I hang paper targets and set up a table with guns, amo, and magazines. Using a tiny bit of Light, I conjure a ten-inch thick foam board and place it behind the paper, propping it up against the wall. In one of the spare rooms, I tow a sword-training dummy and hang a sword rack. Gently, I set a long blade, broadsword, katana, and a claymore onto the display.

  Now, the basement is ready for her training to begin.

  “Hello? Aiden?”

  “Down in the basement,” I say.

  Footsteps echo as Quinn steps down the stairs. She stops on the last step and gazes at everything. “Whoa,” Quinn says. “Are you getting ready for the apocalypse?”

  Oh, hells, she’s intuitive, too. Maybe I have underestimated her.

  “No,” I quickly say. “But today we start your next phase in training: weapons. So, I laid out a bunch to see how you do with these. Maybe if you find something that fits you, it will force your Nephilim Sword to appear.”

  “Do you have a Nephilim Sword?” Her fingers graze over the table of smaller daggers and knives. “I’d like to see it.”

  “I do. When you need it, it appears.” I reach behind my back to where an invisible holster crisscrosses, holding mine. I draw it from its scabbard. The black blade glimmers from the ceiling lights, making shimmering dots dance all over the room like a disco ball. One hand covers the hilt and my other balances the blade.

  Quinn reaches to take the sword from my hands, but I quickly pull it away. “You can’t touch it. You’ll burn yourself. This one is special to me as yours will be to you. Part of your essence will be taken to create it.” What I don’t tell her is that mine was also dipped in the River Styx’s
Hell Fire, so the blade can cut through any Nephilim or guardian angel. “Since you have an interest in the bladed weapons, let’s start there.”

  I proceed to advise her about each blade, length, and what sort of fighting they would be good for. She picks up each and makes stabbing motions, feeling each one in her hands. We move onto the knives and practice throwing them at the targets.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  The perfect timing of each toss finds its marks in the bull’s eye. She’s a natural, just as I thought she would be.

  On her own, she selects the katana and removes it from the sheath. The blade is long and has a slight curve. I watch her feel the balance and swing it a few times. She moves gracefully, as all Nephilim do. Her head turns toward me and I nod.

  Curling my finger, I wave her into the spare room where the dummy is set up. “Take a few whacks at the body so I can see your swing.”

  “Like this?” Quinn asks. She cuts the blade across the mannequin’s jelly chest, taking a step back and driving the blade into a shoulder.

  “Good.” I slide behind her and lock my hand around her wrist, guiding the sword. My body is pressed against her back as I lean forward and force her to do the same. “Throw the force from your center and not just the arm. Your core is where balance resides.” I step away and let her practice more swings. “Widen your stance a bit.”

  “Is this too much?”

  “No, perfect. You’re catching on quickly.”

  “It’s like I was born to do this.”

  “You were. You’ve always been a Nephilim; you just never knew or were trained. Most are found at a very young age, and their training starts immediately. But we don’t have that luxury.”

  “Why not? It’s not like I’m ever going to need to use this, right?”

  “Actually, word on the street is that there’s evil present, and everyone must choose sides. All warriors will fight.”

  “As in good versus evil?” I nod. “But good always wins; plus, that’s the side we’re on. How could we lose?”

  This is going to be epic. In the first time in history, good will not prevail. I won’t let it. And with Quinn at my side, Zoe and her friends won’t ever know what hit them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Zoe

  FRIDAY, JUNE 1, THIRTY-two days after prom.

  I’M LOSING TRACK OF the time. Days and weeks have passed since I’ve been kidnapped, and my cell phone ran out of juice a while ago.

  Aiden only has physically visited me in the vocivus room twice. The last time was when he confirmed to me that he is all the evil my mind has made him into and yesterday.

  What changed? He seems different somehow.

  I feel his presence in the room almost daily. I wonder why he’s spying on me?

  I’m still consistently being fed.

  My life has become a monotonous existence.

  With nothing else to do, I flip on the Light to the mirror and catch up on what my friends are doing. It makes me sad that I’m not with them and if I think about it for too long, seeing them all makes it worse.

  I haven’t watched the mirror in a couple of days, ever since I saw the mass flooding and Sidelle trying to stop the water all on her own.

  Sidelle appeared near a body of water, and I didn’t know where or what she was doing, until the water came down as a torrential downpour and didn’t seem to want to stop. The streets flooded with vehicles being swept away. I witnessed people drown and others become stranded within their homes as the water rose at least ten feet. My heart broke, and my only consolation was that they weren’t alone when they died. I was there in spirit. My heart ached for all the people who were saved or rescued.

  But now I want to know. No, I need to know what else is going on in the world. I wonder what Shay’s doing while the weird weather events kept Sidelle and Kieran busy.

  Today, a desert appears on the screen with a city’s lights in the background. It’s dusk or dawn, I can’t tell which quite yet. Reds, pinks, and yellows color across the vast sky. The sun peaks above the horizon, casting much needed light on the area. The famous “Welcome to Las Vegas” sign is still lit. Warm light crawls, brightening up everything in its path. Blue skies above gently kiss the land. I briefly wonder who’s in the Sin City and why.

  Heat waves rise from the ground, creating mirages of hope. It’s too early in the morning for such temperatures. The wind picks up and blows sand and tumbleweeds across the flat landscape.

  The sun is soon high in the sky, and the city’s lights flicker. Some shut off and stay dark. It’s like the timestamp on the mirror is in fast-forward mode, moving ahead hours at a time. The earth cracks of dryness. Flowers wilt. Grass turns brown and shrivels.

  Hardly any people are parading around as the Vegas strip is scanned over. I thought it’s a city that never sleeps, but today it’s too hot. In the alleys and under bridges, the homeless die first. Their skin leathers to dark brown; their bodies cannot stand the heat any longer. Hospitals are filled to the brink of patients needing to cool down. The generators can barely keep up.

  More lights turn off as if to say, “I’m dying.”

  I’m still wondering why it’s showing me this city when a black SUV comes into the frame. The license plate says: BELLATOR.

  Vash?

  The windows are so dark I can’t see in them, so I don’t know if there’s a passenger or not. They are driving out of town, nearing the airport. But they don’t go to the main terminal; instead, they head toward a smaller one with a waiting private jet.

  Of course.

  The passenger side door opens and out steps Shay.

  He’s wearing all black. Gosh, he must be baking in that. His hair is a bit ruffled and strapped across his back I can see his Nephilim Sword. In fact, his arms and legs are also strapped with knives or daggers. He rakes a hand through his blond hair and pulls off his black shades as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand.

  Vash speaks to him and Shay nods. They meet in the back of the SUV and unload two bags. Someone grabs the gear and places them into the belly of the plane. I watch them board and close the door.

  The screen changes back to the city in a panoramic view.

  The extremely dry air has cracked the earth open. It looks like a turtle’s shell. Valleys are forged, and the earth breaks apart. My heart sinks at the thought that the land is dying from the extreme lack of water.

  The stars of twilight give no reprieve.

  Now, there are no humans on the streets or sidewalks.

  The final lights are turned off, and the city is blanketed in darkness, expect for the eerie glow from the moon.

  The mirror zooms out, and more cities are turning dark. Power is being lost on a massive scale. Soon, it could reach Los Angeles.

  Small towns are showing people huddled inside their homes, eating what they have left on their shelves. Water from faucets drip into bowls as they ration it within their families.

  The reservoirs are dry.

  People will die of heatstroke, thirst, and hunger.

  I have no idea how many days it took for the heatwave to claim so many lives, but the mirror is littered with tiny dots floating toward the Heavens. I stop counting because I know what they are and what it means.

  The purple Light flickers off, and I sit on my own bed in darkness. My shoulders heave from crying. And I cry harder, thinking that’s what those people needed, water from my own tears.

  How can Aiden let all this happen?

  “Aiden, you get your sorry wings in here this instant. If you know what’s good for you at all, you better not ignore me.” I stand and get ready to glare or fight as soon as I see the black of his feathers. “How can you do this? Why are you keeping me here?” I scream at the top of my lungs, letting all my frustration and sorrow release from my body. “I know you can hear me. Stop being a scaredy cat and face me.”

  “You rang, my Sweet?” Aiden’s form appears. “You can lower your voice. I think all of—oops. I
almost told you where you are. No one else can hear you but me, and you only have to whisper for me to hear you.” He leans against the wall. “Now, what did you want?”

  Usually, I can see through his body but not now. Is he a solid form? “I know it’s you who has been destroying the cities with flooding and droughts.” I take a menacing step closer to him.

  “Oh, and don’t forget that all the world’s volcanoes erupted and spread toxic ash into the skies and smoking lava coats the lands.” He wags his finger at me.

  “Why? Why would you do this?”

  “It’s in my nature.” He shrugs. “Why not? I can, so I do.”

  “But you haven’t always been evil. You weren’t when we first met.”

  “You don’t know me, or what I’ve done in the past.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It’s what you do with the present to change your future that matters.”

  “You’re such an optimist.” He picks his perfect fingernails, bored.

  “And you’re a pessimist.”

  “I am what I am. Nothing will change that. Not even if I wanted it to.”

  “That’s not true. If you want to be different, you can be.”

  “Not for me.”

  “All those people and animals.”

  “They die. It’s the circle of life.”

  “But you ended their lives early.”

  “And who’s to say that it wasn’t their time?”

  “I saw the masses of souls leave Las Vegas.” I shuffle a couple steps closer. “I know what it means. They died, and it’s your fault.”

  “It is,” Aiden agrees. “You don’t understand.”

  “Tell me and help me understand.”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Yes, it is.” I stand in front of him and reach out, grabbing the sides of his lips. “You move your mouth like this.” My fingers land on his smooth face and do not go through his form. A numb, tingling feeling spreads down my arms and into my chest. “See, it’s that easy.” If sparks could fly out of my fingers, I think they would.