by White, L. C
“Beth,” Tristen calls, as every single eye seeks me out, waiting for me to sprout angel wings and kick-ass.
I nod my head in refusal, which is evidently a mistake, because Tristen is now marching toward me. I make a fist at my side, though after what I witnessed him do, my fist has no chance of getting within a foot of his face. He stands right in front of me, and holds out the hood. My nervous eyes peer up into his insensitive gaze.
“You need to feel the Shade,” he says. “Listen, touch, and learn its weakness. Take the hood.” I nod a no again, as he leans down to my ear. “It’s not real, Beth. It can’t hurt you. You need to overcome your fear of it,” he whispers in frustration with me.
I breathe in and out, my view lowering to my feet. He is right. I do need to get over my fear. But this is so scary. I can’t use a sword, and I don’t have any magic. What the hell am I supposed to do up there?
“I’ll be right with you,” he says softly.
Gritting my teeth, I grab the hood off him, and stride toward the stage steps.
I swallow down, squinting through the warm spotlights on my face. I can’t see Tristen, or the others. The light is blinding up here. My fingers squeeze the hem of the hood. I count to three in my mind, and whip it over my head.
The warmth of light is replaced by the icy air. Even though I am in the darkness, I opt to close my eyes tight, like I do at home.
“It can’t hurt me, it can’t hurt me,” I repeat to myself.
My hands tremble as I feel the tentacles of the Shade against my ankle. I bravely hover my hands out to my sides, as a gust of wind knocks my torso forward. I yelp out, showing how weak I am.
I’m straining to remain upright as I’m surrounded by the chilling unknown. This was my nightmare, night after night for years. It’s impossible not to be drawn into this simulation as though it is real.
My lips part, breathing in the fabric of the hood. A single tear drops over my cheek and soaks into the cloth. I’m shoved left then right, and have to stagger backward to regain balance. The Shade suddenly wraps up my arms. In fear, my feet cross each other and my laces get tangled up. I stagger and gasp as I feel myself falling to the floor. I bring my hands out to protect my body from impact, but I’m not fast enough, and my face plants the stage, hard. My nose throbs, and the pain causes me to cry out.
“Shit, shut it down Scott,” I hear Tristen’s voice yell.
I push my body up so I’m sitting on the floor. The hood is suddenly whipped off my head. Blood from my nose trickles down my throat, as Tristen lifts my face to examine the damage. I sniff up, my eyes watering. I have just made an utter idiot out of myself.
“You standing your ground against the Shade, and you trip on your goddamn laces, Beth,” Tristen snaps, dabbing my nose with the hood. “You’ll live,” he says in a sigh.
“Sorry,” I whisper, so no one can hear but him.
“No, I am. We’re going to have to go slow,” he says with the hint of a cheeky smile.
“Like stop altogether. That’s great for me.”
“No.” His hand runs over my cheek. “Kylie,” he calls out. “Take Beth, and clean her up.”
Tristen springs up to his feet, taking hold of my elbows to help me up from the floor. With the black hood pressed against my nose, I walk down the steps with Kylie’s arm linking mine. I’m so glad that dome is behind me. It wouldn’t bother me one bit if I never saw it again.
Chapter Fourteen: Abandoned
Beth
I have every single book and piece of paper from Michael’s trunk, scattered across the bed and floor. For two days I have been here now, and it feels like my head is going to explode with bizarre information I still don’t understand. There are a few things I’ve learnt. There are several grades of Shade. Grade three are the most powerful and evil, the ones that cannot escape the inner circle of hell. Grade two, are the drifters in-between. And the grade one, are those who claw their way out, to haunt and possess mankind. According to scripture, the grade ones are like rats, they cluster together, and the most evil of hell require them to collect souls, to weaken a tear in the boarders of hell. Some terrorize people while they sleep. And some possess, to walk among mankind, making man lose their morality to become hardcore criminals. Those are the ones hunted by the Sentinels. Right now on earth, there is a hidden bloody battle between heaven and hell, and humans have no idea. It’s crazy.
A slight tap comes from my door as it squeaks open. Kylie pops her head inside with a slight smile. She’s been doing her best to keep my spirits up, but it isn’t working. In some ways she reminds me of Kim. She’s chatty and always tries to see the light side of everything. She and Scott have been the only ones here, who have gone all out to make me feel welcome.
“You been burning the midnight oil?” she asks as she enters, lifting up a book from my bed that give step by step instructions, on how to exercise demons. “This is just a pointless text book, Beth. You need to learn anything, you should come to me.”
Kylie is two years older than me, and she comes from a long line of gypsies. After what she did in the dome, I had to find out more. The Shade doesn’t touch her. She can read it. Feel it. And she knows it like the back of her hand. I thought my childhood ordeal was bad, but my horrors pale in comparison with hers. She was only five when her entire family was murdered by a Shade. The creature possessed her mom. For weeks she watched her mom fighting possession, but the Shade had its claws firmly stuck into her, using her like a puppet.
She witnessed her own mom, slaughter everyone she loved. Until the Sentinels arrived she thought she was next. But they saved her. She was adopted by the church of St Michael, and like Tristen, at the age of twelve, she began her training.
“There is too much to learn about all this,” I grumble, swinging my legs out of bed, knocking several books and Michael’s sword onto the floor. “Where’s Tristen… Bennett?”
I know he’s had Kylie trying to keep me busy, and out of the way. I didn’t see him all day yesterday, and he doesn’t seem to be interested in training me anymore. After I face-planted the floor in the dome, he probably thinks I am a lost cause. So I’ve been left to my own devices, with Kylie coming and going on the hour.
I’m getting homesick. I have a hollow sensation inside my belly, and it feels like I’ve lost something. I miss Jake most of all. Whenever I felt down in the dumps, he had this way of lighting the day. It was his innocence, and his way of making the most dismal circumstances, nothing to worry about. He’d probably love it here. He’d treat it like one huge adventure. What I’d give to have his kind of mindset right now. I’d even settle for seeing Bennett, for one of our pointless counseling sessions. Anything that reminds me of home, I’m craving.
“He’s with Scott in the mess hall… it’s respite,” she replies.
“Respite?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here, to drag your ass away from all of this.”
I grumble under my breath. Why is Tristen avoiding me? The only positive thing about me being here, is that the Shade can’t get to me. That’s it, everything else sucks.
“We get one day off, every seven week,” she says. “No training. No orders to follow. No Sentinels topside. We are all equal on this day, and get free-rein. So come have some fun.”
“Fun.” I snigger.
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think Sentinels know what fun is,” I say.
“You’d be surprised.” She smiles at me. “Beth, I know this is all weird to you. I’d feel the same. And I know you’re angry about Tristen just dumping you here. But if word gets out he’s been with you, you have no idea how severe the consequences will be. He has to be careful.” She walks right up to me and perches on the bed. “Give me your hand.” She wiggles her fingers.
“What for?”
“Just give me your hand.” She blows out, pulling my hand from the bed to squint down at my palm.
She begins to hum, running her finger up and down my palm like a
quirky fortuneteller.
“You see this line here,” she says, concentrating. “Well this is the line of petulance, and yours my friend.” She giggles jokingly. “Is solid.” She drops my hand so it lands on my lap. “Now come on, you can risk a smile for a while.”
***
I hear loud deep bass music, watching the double doors vibrating as dots of light dance through. It sounds like there is a wild party in there. Maybe the Sentinels do know how to have fun after all.
Kylie swings open the door with a huge sly smile on her face. I remain on the other side of the threshold for a second, gazing in disbelief. The mess hall is heaving with bodies dressed in black, dancing, chatting, and drinking. Surely this is not how angels are supposed to behave. This is how rebellious students act at my school. Oh jeez, I’m starting to think like my mom here. There’s nothing wrong with letting your hair down once in a while. I’m just finding it odd watching Sentinels do it.
“Told you. It’s let loose day,” Kylie says, as I slowly pass by her.
My eyes are searching for Tristen, though it’s useless. It’s dark, the lights are disorientating, and it’s a huge space with far too many Sentinels to search through. They’re all wearing black, so looking for Tristen in here is about as pointless as searching for gold, on the Fort Carson riverbed.
“Hey,” a voice calls behind me.
I turn to see Liam holding out a clear bottle, of what appears to be water. Kylie snatches it off him and takes a swig, as she waves her hips side to side in a slow motion. I frown at her behavior. It’s like she has left her angel outside on the corridor.
“Is this what it’s like every time you get a break?” I yell over the music, up into Liam’s ear.
“This is only the beginning.” He winks at me.
Kylie holds the bottle out to me, but I wave my hand to refuse. She tilts her hips and pouts, tapping her foot.
“You really ought to try it. Angel moonshine is the best.” She more or less presses the bottle against my nose. “Go on.”
I whip the bottle from her hand and smell it first. I was wrong, this is not water. This is most definitely alcohol. Strong alcohol, with a sweet fruity cold aroma, that is so fresh, it makes me sigh out.
I quickly take a small reluctant swig. First it warms my taste buds, then they pulse as the sweet sparkle descends down my throat. Wow, I have no clue what liquor is in this bottle, but it’s delicious. Wiping the side of my lips with my wrist, I grin, holding the bottle back out to Kylie.
“You know what we should do,” Kylie says to Liam. “We should get Beth here, inked up.”
I look on as both Liam and Kylie’s eyes light up at the thought. I cringe at the idea of a needle digging into my skin. I hate the dentist. I hated having my childhood immunizations. I even have this thing about wearing badges. I love the look of tattoos, it’s artwork on skin. It shows a person’s individuality. I love Tristen’s inked skin. But I never thought of myself having it done.
“Liam, go get more drinks,” Kylie orders. “Beth.” She dances in front of me. “Come with me.”
She grabs my hand and yanks me across the dancefloor, pushing and shoving through the Sentinels. For some idiotic reason, I haven’t opened my mouth to tell her I don’t want this doing. I’m being dragged like a frightened puppy on a lead, going to the vets.
We arrive at the very end of the mess hall, to stand before a set of flappy doors. The music is quieter over here, and I can hear the buzz of a tattoo needle. I halt still and refuse to take another step.
“Come on, Beth.” Kylie tugs on my arm.
These Sentinels have no fear of anything. A tattoo is a big decision. Something you’re stuck with for the rest of your life. A life I don’t seem to have any control over at the moment.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. All Sentinels are inked,” she says. “It’s protection, honor, a symbol of what we train and fight for.”
“If she doesn’t want inking, she doesn’t have to.” Tristen’s voice resounds behind me, and makes me almost stumble forward as I turn to him.
I glare right up at him. The stranger. The abandoner. The guy who has left me here to rot. But still, he makes me weak at the knees. It’s his eyes, they mark me as his.
“Beth, do you want to ruin your body with ink?” he has the nerve to ask me in a patronizing tone.
“I might.” My eyes roll at him, pretending to be tough.
“I’ll just leave you two to it.” Kylie slopes away as I continue to eyeball Tristen.
“Do you want me to come in there with you then?”
“No, why don’t you just vanish. You’re good at that,” I say, sarcastically. “Why did you even bring me down here?”
An irritation flashes in his eyes. He takes my arm and strides through the flappy doors, dragging me behind him. For a moment my heart booms in my neck, convinced I’m going to end up like the Sentinel cringing at a table, with bloody ink on his arm. But no, Tristen is now opening a door out onto another long gray dark corridor.
He releases my hand and closes the door so we’re in silence. The ringing in my ears from the loud music fades as I gawp at Tristen.
“Tell me what you want,” he says. “Do you want to go back?”
Oh god. I have no idea myself anymore. I’ve only just begun to understand the workings of this place and the Sentinels, and there is still so much to learn.
“You said this is the safest place for me to be right now. You said you needed to find out what was happening to me.” A long breath flows from my nostrils. “Have you?”
“Bennett is working on it.” He angles his head in disappointment.
“In the real world?”
“Look, Bennett will figure out what Michael wants. He’s the only one that knows how to talk to Michael,” he explains. “And Bennett will tell us.”
“How can you be sure Bennett is not with him right now, telling him you’re not following orders?” I begin to panic.
“Because I know how much Bennett hates all this. Michael has torn his damn life to shreds.” He angers. “Bennett sees you as his daughter, Beth. He understands what comes when you’re chosen for the so called higher purpose.”
“Oh god!” I growl out, covering my face with my hands.
“Do you want me to take you back?” he asks again.
I swallow, sliding my hands away from my face. He slowly walks to me, and his fingers fiddle with mine down by my sides.
“Train me,” I say, like I’ve had a sudden bold epiphany. “If I’m going to be here, then it’s no good twiddling my thumbs in that room.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think I’ve been avoiding you?”
“Because you’re an asshole.” My brow rises.
“Apart from that.”
“Tristen… I don’t know!”
“You weren’t made for this like us, and I feel like I’ve got to give you preferential treatment,” he says, his jaw biting down.
“No you don’t. You were sent to watch over me, well, I want to be able to defend myself,” I say firmly. “I want to be strong enough to not fear the Shade, and to tell Michael exactly what I think of him.”
His lips curl into a cunning side smile. “Okay. Go and get your weapon of choice, and meet me back at the dome.”
“What, right now?” I squeal.
“Yeah, right now.” He bends over, kisses my head, and marches away.
Chapter Fifteen: Tension
Tristen
She makes her way to me like a frightened lost little girl. Her whole persona does not suit that angel blade she awkwardly carries. She has no idea what she holds in her hand, swinging it back and forth by her side like she’s holding a shopping bag. That blade is the only one of its kind, and only the archangel Michael had the power to use it. It’s time-old. A metal crafted by god and given to Michael. It may not look much to her, but the sword, once pared with the right power, can kill a thousand Shades with
one swipe.
I’m going to have to start with the very basics of combat and defense. I’m going to have to go easy, and for me that’s asking a lot. I was raised by nuns and priests until I was recruited. As a child I wasn’t taught the compassion of Michael, but the power and the wrath. I was chosen by those up high to be a leader; my task to train other Sentinels to walk the earth, and eradicate the Shade, by force or exorcism. Then when it was time, to watch over Beth. Over and over I have thought about why she wasn’t raised like me, to prepare her for enlightenment. Why those up high insisted she be human. It makes no sense. But I’m only a soldier in all this. I have no right to question, and that fact has changed me. I now know there are many things I’m not being told, and my faith is dwindling away.
“So.” She waves the sword around with a sexy smile. “Where do you want me?”
“Shit Beth!” I march up to her and take the sword from her hand. “You’re wafting this around like it’s a goddamn flag.”
I take a step back, the history of the sword running through the handle, and into my hand. I’ve never met Michael face to face. I don’t even know if he has a face. When he walked the earth before Beth was born, he resembled a man. But that, like my identity in Fort Carson, could have all been planted. An illusion created for the cause. For all I know he could just be a big giant ball of energy. I smirk to myself, realizing I have never really known who all this is for.
“What’s wrong?” Beth’s voice pulls back my anger.
“Nothing,” I mumble, glancing at her. “This isn’t any normal weapon. It was Michael’s right hand on earth. It’s supposed to have a line directly to god, and only Michael could use it.”
She puckers her lips, innocently. “It looks like it belongs in a museum to me.”
I hold out the blade and squint down, feeling the perfect balance of it. I lift my wrist and flick to perform several basic figure of eight motions, cutting through the air, then stop. Beth steps back with a terrified expression, and it makes me smile. Shit, that is one of the easiest moves to learn, and she has her mouth wide open like I’ve just performed magic. How the hell am I supposed to get her ready to fight?
