Indebted

by Amy A. Bartol

  “What are my other options?” Buns asks coolly.

  “I can sit here with you and babysit you, if you like, but that won’t help find Brownie or Russell,” Zephyr says and I watch Buns scowl.

  “Fine, Zee!” she retorts with heat. Zephyr relents then and puts Buns down and she immediately crosses her arms in front of her, tapping her foot as she scowls at his face. “When I find them, I’m going to go and get them,” she says in anger.

  “And, I will go with you,” he replies with calm.

  I put my hands to my eyes to cover them in frustration. I inhale a breath and smell Russell on my hands. Pulling my hands back from my face, I lift the sleeve of my shirt to my nose and inhale again. His scent is covering me, like I have been pressed up against him and it fills me with a longing that I have come to know as the yearning of my soul. Buns sees me and says softly to Zee, “I’ll work the phone, you get to your contacts. We have to get them back.”

  “It’s definitely not the Gancanagh that has him,” I murmur, looking up and seeing all of their eyes on me. “Smell me. I’m not sticky sweet, like someone who has been with the Gancanagh. There is something about this smell that is different from how Russell smells. It’s Russell, but it’s something else…something…” I trail off because I have no idea just what I’m smelling. It’s not Sheol because I know what the Fallen smell like: rotten and grotesque. This is something else. It smells like—a gas main smells—like natural gas or sort of like the hallway smelled near the boiler room at my old high school when the janitors left the door open.

  Reed comes close to me again, inhaling the scent from my hair. Stepping back from me, his face pales. He speaks rapidly to Zephyr in Angel and Buns gasps as she drops the phone that she had clasped in her hands. Instantly, she is hugging me, inhaling deeply. When she lets go of me, her eyes fill with tears. Without a word, she turns towards the door and begins to leave. Zephyr steps in front of her quickly, catching her in his arms before she can make it out the door.

  She speaks brokenly to him in Angel as Zephyr sweeps her off of her feet, murmuring to her in her ear. Their reaction to what I just said scares me more than anything else I have experienced today. It’s as if they have just gotten the worst news of their lives.

  “Who do we know?” Zephyr asks Reed, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room. “I haven’t…I have little experience with them. You?”

  “Some,” Reed says faintly. “We will need magic, powerful, ancient…some humans possessed the knowledge—the Bedouins, we would need someone with knowledge of the…” he breaks into Angel, apparently because it does not translate to English. “Or, possibly an Undine…”

  “You want to bring a wraith into this?” Zephyr asks as his frown turns grim.

  “Undines have a natural defense against Ifrits—it makes sense,” Reed replies with equal grimness.

  “What’s an Ifrit?” I ask them, honing in on their conversation. My question is met with silence, and then blatantly ignored.

  “Do you have anyone in mind? Have you had any dealings with Undines recently?” Zephyr asks.

  I want to ask what an Undine is, but I’m holding back because they are working the problem out and I don’t want to interrupt their thought process.

  “Yes,” Reed admits with reluctance. Zephyr’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t say anything. When I look at Reed, he looks a little flushed, like he is blushing. “Sort of—define your idea of recent…”

  Seeing Buns’s phone on the floor, I pick it up, bringing it to her. She doesn’t take it from me when I try to hand it to her. “Aren’t you going to call your contacts, Buns,” I ask in a soft voice, watching her face as she rests her cheek against Zephyr’s chest. She shakes her head no, looking like she is in shock.

  “She can’t involve the Reapers,” Reed says in a gentle tone, taking Buns’s phone from my hand and setting it on the desk.

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “It’s not safe for them,” he replies.

  “Safe?” I say, like it’s a foreign word that has no meaning to me. My head is spinning. Buns was talking about kicking Fallen ass only minutes ago, now it’s not safe for Reapers.

  “That leaves finding them difficult,” Zephyr continues. “We have to be careful regarding who goes. They will have to work in teams—take precautions—have alternative methods to employ if they get pinned down. Dominion should be advised—with such a threat in the area, no one is safe.”

  No one is safe? I hear the words from one of the most powerful creatures in the universe and beyond.

  “What in the Hell is an Ifrit?” I demand, seething. “I have been led to believe that angels are the most powerful beings around, but you act like theses Ifrits are invincible.”

  Reed, looking tense, says, “They are not invincible, Evie, but they are endowed with powers that make it hard for us to kill them. Their skin is virtually impenetrable, so force and strength doesn’t mean much. There was a purpose for that. They are angel hunters—angel assassins. They were created to annihilate the Fallen and they were highly effective. But they grew…disgruntled and stopped hunting just Fallen. They saw all angels as a threat—inferior to them.”

  “Why?’ I whisper, feeling like I’m drowning.

  “Who can say? Maybe they don’t like competition. They have a weakness though,” he says.

  “What kills them?” I ask.

  “Magic,” Reed replies with absolute seriousness. I want to laugh and pretend he didn’t just say “magic.” The very word “magic” makes me want to roll my eyes. “It’s probably only one Ifrit, the princes don’t usually work together—they are not social creatures,” he continues, not seeing the complete unreality of the situation.

  “Princes?” I repeat, latching on to the word.

  “The princes are the only Ifrits left. The most powerful had set themselves up as a monarchy—royalty. With help, we managed to wipe out most Ifrits, but the royals just won’t die. They have pacts with the Fallen now, they work together when it’s convenient for the Ifrits.”

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” I whisper to myself.

  “Yes,” Reed agrees. “The Fallen could have gotten the Ifrits involved to search for you, but that takes things to a different level.”

  “Why?” I ask.

  “That would mean that the Fallen are more afraid of what you are capable of doing than what the Ifrits are capable of doing,” Reed says, watching my reaction.

  “Or they are better buddies than you know,” I reply, hoping we are both wrong.

  Reed blinks slowly, surprised that I’m keeping up with him. I am, but just barely. I have had to brush off the chill that is creeping all through me, like someone is walking on my grave, and an equal feeling that I’m really insane and haven’t taken my meds today.

  “Or, they just want Evie,” Buns says in a soft tone. “She is part human…remember? Maybe they heard of her and want to see her for themselves.”

  Reed’s face turns livid and I think for a second that he might smash something. “I didn’t need that visual, Buns,” Reed mutters through his teeth.

  “Sorry, sweetie,” she says, “but aren’t human women their thing? I mean, they find angels appalling, but they would probably be psyched to run across someone like Evie. She is human with the endurance of an angel. For a dying race, that would be significant.”

  Reed does freak then, he barks out orders in his Angelic language to the angels just outside our room. They are the ones he had ordered to follow us earlier. Then he turns to me, grasping my upper arms. “Promise me that you will stay here,” he says in a tone that he hasn’t used with me in a long time. It’s his icy tone.

  I nod shakily. He leans down and quickly brushes his lips to mine, and then he turns and leaves the room without any other explanation.

  I walk to the bed in confusion. “Did you just tell Reed that an Ifrit wants to make me his baby-mama?” I ask Buns, sitting rigidly on the corner of the bed.

  “Uh hu
h,” Buns replies, letting go of Zephyr and coming to sit next to me on the bed. Taking my hand, she leans her head on my shoulder. “They love human women. They fall in love with their souls…but they usually end up killing what they love because, well, they are freaking monsters and human women are frail. But, that’s not the case with you, is it?”

  “What…there aren’t any female Ifrits?” I ask her.

  “Nope,” she says.

  “So they fall in love with human women?” I ask.

  “Yep, they got it goin’ on,” she says without a hint of humor.

  Goose bumps rise on my arms. “What do they look like?” I ask.

  “Whatever they want,” she says in a low tone, “they shapeshift, but I’m told they have a few…traits.”

  “Traits?” I ask, trying to sound calm so she will continue to tell me what I need to know.

  “They mostly like to be human looking. Since they’re attracted to women, they want to look pleasing to them,” she says and I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. “They have wings, too, but not like ours or yours.”

  “What are they like?” I ask, puzzled.

  “They aren’t separate limbs, like ours. Their wings sprout from their arms. Like pterodactyls would be the best description,” she says. “Or bats.”

  “Sexy,” I say, feeling appalled. “So they can fly?”

  “Uh huh, that makes them dangerous, because they’re hard to escape.”

  “So they’re fast,” I say, listening intently. “What else?”

  “They have an ability to manipulate fire,” she says.

  “Manipulate it, how?” I ask.

  “Oh, well, they can roll around in it…pick it up…throw it… eat it…become it,” she says, not smiling.

  “Hah,” I whimper, and then swallow hard. “Okay, that’s a little scary.”

  Buns shivers in agreement. “Sweetie, if it wants you, it won’t want to hurt you,” she murmurs.

  “That’s a big if, Buns,” I reply. “The first thing we need to do is find out where they are.”

  “I tried calling Brownie, she’s not answering her phone. Neither is Russell,” Buns says and we are both silent for a moment.

  “What if I ask Russell where he is?” I ask in a thoughtful tone.

  Buns’s brow wrinkles. “He’s not answering his phone,” Buns says.

  “I’m not going to call him,” I reply, standing up.

  Zephyr growls and says, “Let’s discuss this further. You want to send him one of your clones?”

  “Yeah,” I nod.

  “If he is with the Ifrit, then you run the risk of exposing the fact that you do, indeed, exist,” Zephyr reasons.

  “Okay,” I say with a shrug.

  Zephyr’s eyes narrow dangerously. “Okay?” he asks, shaking his head like he didn’t hear me.

  “Yeah, maybe the freak will stop torturing Russell if he sees me. I’ll tell Russell to come clean, to tell him about me,” I say, pacing the floor. “I only wish that I could send one that I can control, but I don’t know how I’ll find him that way. When I let them burst out of me, they seem to know where they are going.”

  “We do not know if it will be able to follow the trail of your clone straight to you,” Zephyr says, using logic. “We need to have a back up plan in place in the event it comes for you. You must wait…”

  “No way, Zee,” I shoot back. “You didn’t feel the torture. If there is a way to stop it, I have to try.”

  “What if it kills us all?” Zephyr asks me in a quiet tone.

  “Can one Ifrit kill all of the angels we have here?” I ask, freaking out at the thought of one creature being that powerful.

  “I honestly don’t know,” Zephyr replies. “We should discuss this with Reed. He has the most experience with Ifrits. I do recall him telling me once that he led missions against them in the past.”

  “But it’s Brownie and Russell we’re talking about here, Zee,” I say pleadingly. “The time that we’re killing here might be killing them.”

  “Or, we are keeping them alive because the Ifrit doesn’t know where we are yet,” Zephyr counters. “I will go talk to Reed if you promise not to succumb to your emotions.”

  “Okay,” I say when I see Buns nod in agreement with Zephyr.

  CHAPTER 6

  Undines And Ifrits

  “So, we are in agreement?” Phaedrus asks, searching the faces of everyone around the table. I watch as Zephyr, Buns, and Preben all give their assent. Turning my head to look at Reed, I see that he is sitting stonily, staring at me. He hates this plan. He also completely hates my new ability right now. He made the argument that we don’t know if the Ifrit can track my clone back to me if I release one and send it to Russell.

  A plan B is being put into place to counter the risks. The Undines have been sent for and should be arriving soon. I thought that nothing would surprise me after hearing about Ifrits, but it turns out that I was wrong. I’m in complete shock when I learn that water sprites are coming to perform their magic to defend us against the Ifrit, should it become necessary.

  “Evie will send her messenger to Russell. I will try to track it. If I can follow it, then I will report back their location. If I’m unable to keep up with it, there is still a chance I can find where it’s going. If I can track it like all of my other targets, its heat may lead me to Russell,” Phaedrus says.

  Reed remains silent, not agreeing to our plan. I sigh because I know all of his reasons. He thinks that I’m not able to see the big picture. He thinks that I still look at all of the scary creatures that I’m learning about as myths. He’s wrong. I’m learning that “myth” doesn’t mean what I thought it did. It really means, “based on truth” and the truth is terrifying.

  “It’s all right, Reed,” I say in a gentle tone. “I know what the princes are…and I know what I am. I was created to do this, or else I wouldn’t have been given this ability—this gift.”

  “No, you don’t know the princes, Evie,” Reed states, putting both his hands on the table and leaning across it to glare at me.

  Meeting him halfway, I say in a placating voice, “Well then, this will be my baptism by fire.”

  That is the exact wrong thing to say. Before I know what’s happening, Reed picks me up and flies with me out the door. He flies straight up into the dusky twilight at a speed that I couldn’t have matched if I were running. He takes me up high enough that there is not even a whisper of sound but our breathing.

  Reed murmurs in my ear, “I don’t possess magic. I cannot protect you from the Ifrits. I’m not made to withstand them.” He says it like he is admitting to the worst crime imaginable.

  “Reed,” I whisper back, hugging him close to me as we hover in the air. “We have to trust that this is meant, because I can’t leave them there. You can’t either.”

  We begin to lose altitude as he leans his forehead against mine. “I can’t lose you again,” he says.

  “I will always find my way back to you, no matter what. I love you…just promise me you’ll never let me go,” I say, looking in his eyes.

  “Never. I will never let you go,” he agrees as we begin to slowly descend. “I’m fighting my own war here. I don’t want to tell you this, but I know you haven’t even considered the possibility that we might not be able to save them.”

  “Don’t say that,” I hush him, feeling ill.

  “There may not be a compromise,” he says, searching my face for signs of understanding.

  I shake my head, “I can’t just let them die.”

  “You may not have a choice,” he says quickly. “Bargaining with the enemy is never a good idea. We need to defeat them, but I cannot see a clear way to do that without the loss of the hostages.”

  “We’ll find them and a plan will present itself. We have Phaedrus. He can work miracles,” I say, grasping at any argument that will keep fear from crushing me. I see uncertainty in his eyes.

  “You can send Russell the message,
but you’re not going to them,” Reed says in a way that makes me think that arguing isn’t going to help.

  I try anyway. “But if Phaedrus finds them, then—”

  “Then, a rescue attempt will be mounted, but you won’t be involved,” he says with finality.

  “What if I can help?” I retort.

  “You can’t,” Reed states without a hint of doubt.

  “You don’t know that,” I counter.

  “I will not risk you beyond the messenger. You may send it, but that will be the extent of your involvement,” he replies.

  “Reed, you’re being unreasonable,” I say.

  “No, I’m protecting you,” he says stiffly. I can see that he is completely serious about this.

  “You can’t keep me in the dark—they’re my family. I need to know what’s happening to them. Will you tell me if you find them?” I ask. I want to know how far he plans to go to protect me.

  “I don’t know,” he answers.

  My eyes narrow, “I don’t want that kind of protection,” I respond.

  “I’m not interested in what you want right now. I’m only focused on what you need,’” he says in a calm voice.

  “What makes you an expert on what I need?” I ask him heatedly.

  He points to the symbol of my wings that are branded on his chest, “This makes me the expert and the authority on what you need.”

  I pull my shirt back so that he can see his wings branded on my chest and ask angrily, “Then, what does this make me?”

  “Mine,” he replies. I begin to shake my head and feel him tighten his grasp on me. “You are mine and you will listen to me,” he says as my feet touch back down on the ground in the courtyard outside of the main pagoda. “Do you think that it’s a coincidence that I am as old as I am? That I have lived this long?” he asks. “I know what we are facing. I’ve faced it before.”

  Pulling away from him, I turn and begin walking back towards the conference room. As Reed walks next to me, his jaw sets as he reaches out and takes my hand in his. Looking at his profile, I stop walking and say, “In case you haven’t noticed, I have a brain. I can think for myself.”