“Of course,” I said.
“Well, some of us have better control over our humanity than others.”
I should have been scared. After all, I was in a car with two wolf shifters, one who had just admitted that some of them struggle with control over their humanity and that they eat people.
But I wasn’t scared. Because I trusted that Noah and Sage were good. They had my back. I believed them that not all shifters were good, but I knew in my gut that they would never hurt me.
“Okay.” I kept my voice steady, wanting him to know that despite what he was saying, I trusted them. “So since I had to wear the ring to cover my scent in the compound, I’m going to guess that not all the shifters in the Montgomery pack are in full control of their humanity?”
“Bingo,” Sage said. “I’m sure you noticed that my brother Flint is the alpha of the pack, right?”
“I could tell he was the leader,” I said. “Is he the one who… struggles with his humanity?” I initially wanted to ask if he was the one who ate people, but I held myself back. The idea was too gruesome to say out loud.
“As the alpha, his wolf side is strong,” Noah said. “Like most shifters who live in civilization, he has it under control for the most part. He wouldn’t be able to live in the city if he didn’t.”
“His trouble is in his sleep,” Sage continued. “If he’d smelled your fresh human scent in his sleep, his animal side might have risen while he was unconscious, and…” She trailed off, letting me come to my own conclusion. That he would have attacked me. “The ring kept you safe,” she said. “That’s what matters.”
“Right.” I nodded—it was a lot to take in. But even though I trusted them, I had to ask my next question for my own protection. “I don’t have anything to worry about when you both are sleeping, do I?”
“No,” Noah said quickly. “That’s a problem unique to alphas, since their animal sides are so strong.”
“I’m surprised you’re not an alpha.” The words came out of my mouth before I realized what I was saying. “I just mean that you seem like such a take charge type of guy.”
“I already told you.” He leaned back, his eyes going distant. “I’m a lone wolf.”
“Of course.” I wanted to ask more. But it was clear that mentions of his past made Noah shut down, so I focused on other questions as we drove out of LA and into the desert.
I had a lot of other questions, and as we started off our drive to New Orleans, I learned a lot about the supernatural world and the creatures within it.
The first thing I learned was that the three main types of supernaturals in the world were shifters, witches, and vampires.
Shifters weren’t immortal—they had the same lifespans as humans. They were numerous and lived in packs all over the world. The animal they could shift into was the strongest predator of the region they lived in. Some packs had integrated with society and remained mainly in their human forms. Others lived in the wilderness, their animal sides having taken over completely. Those were the dangerous ones—the ones who would eat any prey they came across, including humans.
Vampires lived mainly in one of their six designated kingdoms—one kingdom in each continent. The kingdoms were all different, but each one was extremely powerful. From what Noah and Sage said, most vampires were pretty pompous and interacted with the rest of society as infrequently as possible. There were a few rogue vampire covens living amongst humans, but not many.
Strong witches were rare. The strongest of them lived in the vampire kingdoms, like royalty. Others, like Amber and her circle, lived in society and charged hefty fees for their services. But most witches weren’t strong, and were only capable of small party tricks. Those witches had pretty much integrated with human society completely at this point.
“Do you think that’s what my mom could be?” I asked. “A weak witch?”
“No.” Noah sounded absolutely sure of it. “Even the weakest witches still smell like witch. And as her daughter, you would have inherited her magic no matter what.”
“What about the Nephilim?” I asked.
“What about them?” he asked in return.
“So far you’ve told me about shifters, vampires, and witches,” I said. “But there are also Nephilim. Rosella mentioned them herself. Where do they fit in with all of this?”
“The Nephilim are an extinct race,” Sage said. “Well, almost extinct. Annika—the Earth Angel—was the last one left.”
“But Nephilim are the only ones who can kill greater demons,” I recalled what Amber had said back at her mansion.
“They are,” Noah said. “Which is why Annika is creating a new army of Nephilim.”
“By having humans go through the Angel Trials?”
“Yep,” he confirmed. “When Annika was turned into the Earth Angel, she was given the Holy Grail.”
“The Holy Grail?” I interrupted, shocked.
“Yes.” He laughed. “The Holy Grail. It has the power to turn humans into Nephilim.”
“Which is why I’m going to Avalon.” My stomach felt hollow with the intensity of it all. “To go through the Angel Trials and become a Nephilim.” The thought terrified me. But if I let myself think about it too much, I’d go nuts. So I needed to know more. “What exactly are the Angel Trials?” I asked, hoping Noah would at least know something. “I want to be as prepared as possible so I’m able to get through them.”
“I don’t know,” Noah said. “I’ve never been to Avalon.”
“And I already told you that I don’t know,” Sage said. “I’ve never even met the Earth Angel. Everything I know about her is through Noah.”
“How do you know her?” I twisted back around to face Noah.
“It’s a long story.” He ran his hand through his hair and gazed out the window. From the far off look in his eyes, it was clear he didn’t want to share that story.
“We’re road tripping from LA to New Orleans,” I said. “I think we have enough time for a long story or two.”
“I barely know her.” He returned his gaze to mine, as if that answer should be good enough. “I only met her once—when she gave me the task of killing ten demons for entrance to Avalon.”
“That wasn’t a long story,” I said. “It was two sentences.”
He shrugged, saying nothing.
He was hiding something from me, and I was determined to find out what that something was. But I also knew not to push it. We had a long journey ahead, which meant a lot of time to build trust. He’d tell me when he was ready.
In the meantime, I was getting the vibe that it was time to change subjects.
“So, shifters can only imprint on shifters,” I started, noticing how Noah noticeably stiffened the moment I said the word “imprint.”
“Yep.” He sounded bored. He was also purposefully not looking at me.
“But like you said before, there are various types of shifters—wolves, coyotes, lions, bears,” I said. “Can wolf shifters only imprint on other wolf shifters? Or can they imprint on the other types too?”
Sage glanced back at Noah. She’d been letting him do most of the talking so far, but she must have picked up from his body language that he didn’t want to discuss it, because she was the one who answered me.
“We usually imprint on shifters who share the same animal nature that we do,” she said. “But not always.”
“What happens then?” I asked.
“Like I said, it’s rare,” she said. “It only happens to a handful of shifters each generation, if even. But when shifters choose a mate, the two of their minds, bodies, and souls become connected. This process changes both people—and it allows those rare shifters to both be able to shift into both their natural animal and their mate’s natural animal. They’re called dyads. There aren’t many dyads, but those that exist are revered amongst our kind.”
“Wow,” I said. “So if a shifter and a bear mated, both of them would be able to shift into both a wolf and a bear?”
“Y
es,” she said.
“And what about their kids?” I asked. “Would they be able to shift into both animals too?”
“Nope,” she said. “When we mate, the couple joins the pack belonging to the more dominant of the two. So if the wolf and bear joined the wolf’s pack, their kids would only be able to shift into wolves, and vice versa.”
“Interesting,” I said.
“Not really.” Noah finally decided to speak again. “And not relevant to you.”
“Someone’s touchy,” I muttered.
“Don’t mind him,” Sage said. “He doesn’t like being in cars—he says they make him feel closed in. That’s why we got the motorcycles.”
“All right.” I was starting to wish I hadn’t brought up imprinting and mating again in the first place. “So, why don’t you tell me more about those potions you brought with us? If I’m going to be helping you kill demons, I might as well know what we’re working with.”
“You’re not helping us kill demons,” Noah said. “You’re standing back and staying safe while Sage and I kill demons. Big difference.”
“I can help.” I crossed my arms and glared at him. “I’m not useless, you know.”
“You’re human,” he said. “Compared to supernaturals, you’re pretty useless in a fight.”
I took a sharp breath inward, his words stinging. Is that what he really thought of me? That I was useless?
That was a load of bullshit.
“I’m not useless.” I turned back around, refusing to look back at him again.
At least Sage didn’t think I was useless. She wouldn’t have given me that knife if she did.
“You said some of those potions were in pods that you could throw,” I said to her. “I can use them if I know what’s in them.”
“First of all, you should know that potions are defensive, not offensive,” she said. “They can help in a fight, but they won’t do any fighting for you. Still, there’s no reason why you can’t learn about them.”
I smiled back at Noah in victory.
He just looked out the window, pretending that both of us weren’t there.
Fine by me. I had better things to do—like listen to Sage as she taught me about the different potions and how to use them.
There was no time like the present to prepare for a demon hunting journey.
Raven
It was a twenty-nine hour drive, straight east on the 10 to get from LA to New Orleans. The majority of the trip so far had been through deserts. I’d known the country was big, but I never realized how much open, empty land there was until driving through it. It seemed like the desert went on forever and ever, with no end in sight.
Since we couldn’t afford to lose any time by stopping for the night to sleep, we drove in shifts. Well, Noah and Sage drove in shifts. Neither of them let me take the wheel, despite my offers.
Apparently, they thought humans were useless at driving, too.
Once Noah took the wheel, Sage fell asleep pretty soon after hopping into the back. Without her constant chatter, awkward silence settled between Noah and I.
I tried to ask a few more questions about the supernatural world, but he kept giving me short, single word answers. He clearly didn’t feel like talking anymore.
Soon after the sun set, my eyes started to droop, so I gave in and fell asleep.
I woke up as Noah was pulling off the freeway toward a gas station. A quick glance behind me showed that Sage was still sleeping in the back. She looked mighty comfortable under the blanket she’d retrieved from the trunk.
“Where are we?” I said quietly to Noah, not wanting to wake Sage.
“Dunno.” He shrugged. “Somewhere in the desert.”
“That’s helpful.” I rolled my eyes. “Did we cross into New Mexico yet?” We’d just passed Tucson, Arizona—where we’d stopped for dinner—when I’d fallen asleep. A glance at the clock on the dashboard showed that I’d slept for four hours, so I figured we must have crossed the state border by now.
“Check for yourself.” He motioned to the phone, which was plugged in as it tracked our route. “Unless that’s too difficult a task for you?”
Someone was touchy. And I didn’t feel a need to garner his rudeness with a response. So I checked the GPS on the phone and saw that yes, we’d crossed into New Mexico a while ago and were currently nearing the Texas border.
“If you want to take a break, I can drive for a bit,” I offered once he’d pulled up to the pump.
Judging by how cranky he was, he was in desperate need of a nap.
“I’m good for another few hours, and then Sage will be up to take over.” He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a credit card. “But if you want to help, you can pump the gas.”
“Seriously?” I crossed my arms and glanced down at the card, not taking it. “You won’t let me drive, but you want me to pump the gas?”
“You were the one who said you weren’t useless…” he trailed.
Anger simmered in my veins. Of course I wasn’t useless. But not letting me drive and then asking me to pump the gas felt so degrading. Like I was some kind of servant.
I wanted to say that that no, he could pump his own gas.
But if I didn’t pump the gas, I was definitely being useless.
It was a lose-lose situation.
“Fine.” I snatched the credit card from his hand, flipped my hair over my shoulder, and stomped out of the car to pump the gas. As the tank filled, I heard a howl in the distance—a coyote? Whatever it was made the hairs rise on my arms.
Once the nozzle clicked that it was done, I got back in the passenger seat and handed the card back to Noah, not saying a word.
He started up the car, nodding when the needle pointed to full.
“Did I do a good enough job of filling the tank up for you?” I didn’t bother keeping the sarcasm from my tone.
“Fantastic.” He pulled out of the station, stopped at the intersection, and looked to me for guidance. “Which way do I go?” he asked.
“You go east on the 10…” I trailed. “The same way we’ve been going for this entire drive.”
“I know that.” His jaw tightened, his knuckles turning white as they held the steering wheel. “Just tell me which way to turn.”
I looked ahead at the two signs that clearly stated which freeway entrance led east and which led west. “Follow the sign that says east.” I casually motioned to the signs ahead of us. “Unless that’s too difficult a task for you?” I smirked in amusement. Throwing his own words back in his face might have been childish, but it was so, so sweet.
“Just tell me which way to turn.” His tone was clipped, and from the way he was glaring at me, I feared he might whip out his claws at any moment.
“Do you have a vision problem?” I asked, suddenly worried that I was a passenger in a car with a driver who needed glasses. “Can you not see the signs?”
“I don’t have a vision problem,” he said. “Shifters have enhanced senses. My vision is far superior than that of a human.”
What he really meant was clear—that his vision was far superior to mine.
“Yet you can’t see the signs right in front of us.” I narrowed my eyes at him, suddenly suspicious that he wasn’t being honest with me. But he’d shown no signs of vision issues in the past.
So what could he possibly have to lie about right now? Why was he commanding me to give him directions?
As I studied him, the pieces started to come together.
Sage had said he was the world’s worst co-pilot. He’d refused to check the map on the phone. He’d all but forced me to pump the gas for him. Now he didn’t know which sign was east and which was west.
“You can’t read,” I voiced my suspicion out loud. “You can see the signs, but you don’t know which way to turn because you don’t know how to read them.”
The way he straightened and gripped the wheel tighter, all while refusing to look at me, confirmed my suspicion.
> I sat back, baffled. I’d never met someone who was illiterate. What kind of life had he grown up in where he hadn’t been taught how to read?
Up until now, his refusal to open up about his past had annoyed me. But with this revelation, my heart went out to him.
“Left,” I said softly. “You take the entrance on the left.”
He did as I said, turning up the radio as he entered the freeway. Sage stirred but didn’t wake. We were in the middle of nowhere, and there were no other cars on the road but ours.
It didn’t take long for the questions to build up so much inside of me that I felt like I was going to explode if I didn’t say something.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” I finally asked.
“Here?” He laughed. “No. Wolves don’t live in deserts. At least, not my species of wolf.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I said, since of course I knew he wasn’t from the desert. “I meant from California. LA. Well, from a city in general.”
“You want to know why I can’t read.”
“Yes,” I said, but then I pressed my lips together, realizing that might sound harsher than intended. “Well, I’m curious about where you’re from where they didn’t teach you how to read.”
He was silent for a few seconds, as if debating what to tell me.
I so badly wanted to ask more questions—to lead him on a process of elimination to figure out what state he was from—but I held my tongue.
One big thing I’d learned about Noah was that he held his cards until he was ready to show them. So I waited, tugging at the ends of my sleeves as the question lingered between us.
“You’re right,” he finally said.
“About what?” That wasn’t the answer I’d expected, but I was intrigued nonetheless.
“That I could use some rest,” he said, and I deflated at the realization that he wasn’t about to share details about his past. “Do you want a turn at the wheel?”
I wanted to say no—that he could keep driving if that meant we could keep talking.
But then I remembered the Chariot card I’d drawn from the tarot deck.
Get behind the wheel and be the driver of your own destiny.
The Angel Trials Page 13
