Shadows in the Silence

by Courtney Allison Moulton

  “I told you ‘in a manner of speaking.’”

  I glared at him. “It’s extremely annoying that you have to give me the most confusing response possible every time.”

  “I’m old and bored and running out of hobbies. This is a new one.”

  “Who are you, Ethan Stone?” I asked in a very serious tone. “Or should I say, what are you?”

  He smiled. “That is the question, isn’t it?”

  And then it hit me. “The bloodline in America that Nathaniel told me about…you’re one of the scions, aren’t you?”

  His smile widened. “I’m happy to know that I’m not descended from a moron.”

  My brain reeled as I circled him, gaping at him, studying him, picking out resemblances in his features that I saw in my own. I saw everything now. This was why Lauren had detected my presence in his psychic signature on the envelope, and why the energy was so intense and violent. She’d had a similar reaction when she used her abilities to sense a connection between myself and the sarcophagus Sammael had been entombed in. only an angel had that kind of power. It made perfect sense for Nathaniel to keep in contact with Ethan Stone, and why he knew so much about our world even though he was psychic. But he was more than a psychic mortal. My power—angelic power—was in his blood.

  “How long have you known?” I asked him, still breathless.

  “Even as a young boy growing up in Surrey, England, I’ve always known I have abilities that normal people don’t,” he said. “But it wasn’t until my mother introduced me to Nathaniel that I knew what I was. Your angelic blood has flowed through my mother’s side for over three hundred years. Nathaniel had kept track of my entire family tree, since you married a mortal man and bore a child before that incarnation of yours was killed in battle.”

  Despite the incredible discovery of one of my descendants, this information stung ripe and raw. I hated thinking about the men I’d loved who weren’t Will. If I’d known how he felt about me, I never would have even considered anyone else. I remembered what Will had told me when he found out Cadan had feelings for me: “For centuries I’ve watched you with everyone but me.” Thinking about his words now made me so angry with myself, but he never told me he loved me until the night after we’d thrown the sarcophagus into the sea. If I’d known…

  “Ellie?” Ethan Stone’s voice shook me from my thoughts.

  If I’d known and given my heart only to Will, then Ethan Stone wouldn’t be here. His ancestors—my descendants—never would have lived. I couldn’t regret what I’d done that gave life to others. I was the archangel of new life. Nothing was more precious to me. I was more than willing to give up my own to save all life on Earth.

  Ethan Stone laid a hand on my shoulder. “That’s a lot to absorb. I understand.”

  He didn’t understand everything, but it was a nice gesture.

  “Actually, I do,” he said. “You and your Guardian fool no one, not even an old fool like me.”

  “Is being a creepy mind invader your only talent?”

  “Of course not,” he replied. “I’m also a talented smartass.”

  “That one has been apparent enough,” I grumbled. “Nathaniel told me that my scions can’t control angelfire, so what else can you do?”

  “Enable my inherent laziness,” he said with ease. He lifted his right hand and small objects zipped around my head toward him, very nearly nicking my skin. The objects—small rocks collected from the debris littering the ground—settled into his open hand. “I could have merely picked them all off the ground, but I don’t need to. Brilliant, I know.”

  “In all seriousness, it is,” I said, marveling at the rocks in his hand. I touched one and it prickled my skin with energy, like static electricity. “How strong is this ability? Can you pick up things that are heavier than little rocks?”

  “Like a person?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Could you pick up me?”

  “I can do more than lift you,” he replied. “When I was younger, I had less control over it. I had to learn quickly.”

  I cringed. “Did people get hurt?”

  “They had it coming,” he said with a dismissive wave. “Most of them, anyhow.”

  “Could you defend yourself from a reaper?” I asked. “Like if you were attacked?”

  He shrugged and then he backed away several paces. “Rush at me.”

  I gaped at him. “What?”

  “Attack me.”

  “Again, what?”

  “Just run at me!”

  I lunged toward him, but I only took three steps before his hand flicked up and my body was hurled in the opposite direction. My feet hit the ground the same instant his were lifted. Will had wound his entire hand around Ethan Stone’s throat and he now held the man high over his head.

  “It was just a friendly demonstration, I assure you!” Stone gargled, barely able to breathe.

  “You attacked her,” Will snarled, adding just a hair more pressure to make the man’s eyes bulge.

  “Will!” I shouted at him as I caught my balance. “Let him go. He wasn’t hurting me—just showing me his powers. He’s one of my scions.”

  That didn’t seem to make Will want to pummel Stone any less. In fact, Will glared even harder, but I understood. This human was descended from me and a man other than Will. Will had no reason to like him. Even so, he set Ethan back on the ground on my order and folded his arms.

  “Thank you,” Ethan said, and smoothed out his suit and his hair. Will didn’t give him any room. I rolled my eyes. The stupid macho crap would never end.

  “What do you want?” Will demanded.

  “To help you!”

  “He knows where the Naphil is,” I explained. I turned to Stone. “Which is…where, exactly?”

  “The Temple of Solomon,” Ethan Stone said. “You really liked Solomon, I must say.”

  “But no one knows exactly where that is,” I told him. “It’s the same temple that protected the Ark of the Covenant for a long time. No one has ever been allowed to excavate the Temple Mount. If there’s a Naphil buried alive in there, then there’s no way to get to it.”

  He seemed unconcerned. “No, no. The temple in Jerusalem was sacked by King Nebuchadnezzar—completely plundered and destroyed. But there were two temples built. The one in Jerusalem protected the Ark of the Covenant, and a second in Aleppo, Syria, housed the last Naphil.”

  “Ain Dara,” Will said in a low voice.

  I stared at Stone, confused. “But that temple was built by the Hittites, not the Israelites.”

  “Parts of it, yes,” he replied. “The twin temples are nearly identical if you look at the excavated ruins of Ain Dara and the descriptions of Solomon’s Temple on Zion in the Hebrew Bible. The Hittites in the area Ain Dara was built believed the Naphil was one of their more destructive gods, a storm god called Addu. They worshipped him, built gigantic basalt lions and sphinxes around the cherubim reliefs, and carved enormous footprints into the earth leading toward the Sanctum, which is the inner holy room of the temple.”

  “Solomon built twin temples,” I repeated, astonished. “Can you take us there? Can you help us find the Naphil?”

  “I can do that,” Stone agreed. “I have contacts in Israel and Syria.”

  “Will,” I said, and caught my Guardian’s attention. “Once we’re finished at Ain Dara, we can head to Har Megiddo.”

  Ethan loosed a long whistle. “That’s really where it will all end, is it?”

  “It is indeed,” I said dimly. “I’m tired of playing tag with the enemy. I’m doing everything I need to do in order to give our side the best chance to win this war and then I’m heading to Armageddon to face Sammael and end this once and for all. I’m just afraid that we won’t have enough soldiers to help us fight Sammael’s army. He will have thousands of demonic reapers to fight us there.”

  “All of the demonic spawn to meet the angelic,” he mused. “We need more angelic soldiers. I’m certain my mercenaries would be deli
ghted to fight with you. I don’t believe they’ve ever battled an army of reapers before. It’ll be like Christmas morning for them, the bloodthirsty beasts.”

  “Ava and Marcus can rally the angelic,” Will suggested. “My mother has her contacts, as well. While we find the Naphil, they can gather our friends and allies and their friends and allies. We can build an army within a week—days. We’ve all been waiting for this.”

  With a beam of hope, I realized that maybe we could do this after all. “Do you know where everyone is?” I asked. “Let’s get the group together and figure this out. While the idea’s fresh in our minds, we can organize how we’ll assemble as many angelic reapers as possible.”

  “We can fly to Syria later this evening,” Ethan offered. “We’ll take my private jet into a military base I used the last time I traveled to Ain Dara. A lot of money can persuade many men to be very uninterested in our business. I warn you, this won’t be any milk run.”

  “For now, let’s get some rest,” I said. “A lot is about to happen for all of us.”

  For the first time in a while, Will smiled at me.

  I gave him a skeptical stink eye. “What?”

  “Nothing,” he replied. “Just proud of you, that’s all.”

  Then I smiled back at him.

  28

  DESPITE HOW EXHAUSTED EVERYONE SEEMED, they were very alert while listening to my explanation of our next plan. While Ava, Marcus, and Madeleine rallied their allies, Cadan would call upon his own friends. I’d be surprised if Cadan had any other angelic friends, but he appeared confident nonetheless. Ethan Stone was already on the phone with his men and the pilot of his jet. Things were falling right into place.

  I fell asleep on the ride back to the hotel, but I woke long enough to follow Will into the elevator and to our room. I lay sprawled on the bed wishing I could return to blissful unconsciousness, but Will wouldn’t let me until we’d ordered room service and gotten some food in our stomachs. one meal a day wasn’t cutting it for either of us. If I survived this war, I’d go back to Michigan and inhale some real food cooked by my nana. Even though the hotel only served breakfast at this hour, I ordered an omelet. After having had real Belgian waffles, I wouldn’t waste my time ordering some cruddy hotel version. Unless I came back to Belgium, I’d never be able to eat waffles again, to be honest, now that I’d been spoiled. That was quite heartbreaking.

  I couldn’t remember when I fell back to sleep—or if I’d fallen asleep with my face in my breakfast—but I woke hours later to Will nudging my shoulder. I’d slept until after midnight, but now it was time for us to meet Ethan Stone and fly to Syria. I took a quick, cool shower to wake myself up and finish packing before we took our luggage down to the lobby. Ethan Stone was already waiting for us, leaning on a sleek black limousine. His driver grabbed our bags and set them securely in the trunk. He rushed around the limo to open the rear doors for us to climb in.

  “We ought to arrive just after dawn,” Stone explained. “This will allow us to travel safely through the desert. The sun is too direct for any demonic reaper to even consider attacking us during daylight.”

  “You are officially invited on all of our adventures,” I told him as I slid across the seat and stopped next to the window. Will took his place beside me.

  Ethan eased onto the seat opposite ours, sank deep against the cushions, crossed one leg over the other, and waved his hand over the panel under the windows. The panel slid away—a result either of a display of his power or the device being motion-activated—and a tray lifted into its place with a lazy hum, displaying crystal glasses, a pitcher of ice, and a bottle of brandy. Stone tipped the bottle over a glass.

  “And we’re off,” he said, and grinned at us.

  Ethan Stone’s private jet was small compared to most commercial aircrafts, but it flew smoothly and in just a few hours we landed at a tiny airfield in the middle of the desert. The runway ended in a barrier of ten-foot-tall chain-link fence topped with barbed wire. on the opposite side of the airfield was a rickety, dusty building shadowed by a manned guard tower. I had a strong feeling there was more to this military base than we were told.

  Stone exited the aircraft first and greeted a man brandishing a very large assault rifle. They spoke as if they were old friends, chatting in fast, happy-sounding Arabic to each other. Suddenly the man with the gun guffawed loudly and slapped Stone on the back so hard he lost his balance and frowned in pain. Ethan waved up at us and we climbed down the ramp, Will out in front like a bodyguard. The sun was insanely bright and hot, and I felt like my skin was frying right off my arms, even though I wore a thin shirt over a tank top and linen cargo shorts. Cadan, though he had braved daylight for me before, would never be able to handle this. Stone had been right that we’d be safe from demonic forces until nightfall.

  We passed by groups of rough-looking men with so many weapons dangling from their uniforms they looked like twisted Christmas trees decorated by the Godfather. What kind of maniac were we traveling with who kept this sort of mafia-esque company all the time?

  I tried to ignore the curious, leering gazes of the men, but I imagined they didn’t have seventeen-year-old girls passing through too often. Stone’s men took our luggage, but knowing that we’d be investigating ancient temples, I kept a backpack stuffed full of bottled water, food, a flashlight with batteries, and an extra change of clothes, just in case. We followed Ethan and the man he’d been chatting with toward the dusty building. Just past it, a Jeep was parked in front of a closed gate surrounded with more armed guards. This had to be our ride and I was more than giddy to get out of this sketchy “airport.”

  Stone exchanged a few more words with the man, handed him a fat envelope of what was likely cash, and returned his attention to Will and me. “Climb in,” he instructed. “Yusri will escort us to our destinations today.”

  “Another driver?” I asked, peeking over the seat at the man in the Hawaiian-print shirt behind the wheel. He turned around and gave us a pleasant smile. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but I caught a glimpse of a gun sticking out the waistband of his khaki shorts.

  “Of course,” Stone replied. “Don’t be silly. I never drive myself anywhere.”

  I studied the GPS on the dashboard as Yusri configured the map. “Aleppo? Why are we going there first? I thought we’re headed to Ain Dara. You’d better not try to bamboozle me, Stone.”

  “No bamboozling, I assure you,” he replied. “The surface of Ain Dara has been reduced to rubble. There’s no way to access the underground channels there. We’ll be going in through a different door.”

  Will made an impatient noise. “Can you be a little more specific?”

  “Ain Dara’s underground system connects with the temple of the storm god Addu in the Citadel in the center of Aleppo. This temple is five thousand years old, older than the ottoman palaces, the fortifications constructed by Ghazi after the Crusades, the Byzantine churches, the colonnades built during Alexander the Great’s conquests…. It’s older than everything built atop it. The passageways beneath run for miles and miles.”

  I nodded, understanding the plan. “So we will access Ain Dara from underground.”

  “I hope you brought walking shoes.”

  I frowned down at my sandals. “Meh,” I mumbled in response. At least I had my backpack full of supplies.

  “We’ll need plenty of propane lanterns,” he said. “It’s dark as Hell down there.”

  Aleppo could only be described as a city built of gold—of golden limestone and sand brick, that is. The streets were a vibrant mix of languages, of people wearing Western and Middle Eastern clothing, and the scents of oils and spices. We navigated toward the ancient Citadel in the center of the city, past tourists and locals, automobiles, and carts pulled by donkeys. The Citadel, sitting atop a gigantic hill, was never out of sight so we’d never get lost, even though Stone seemed entirely sure of his path through the winding streets. We entered the same way the tourists did, across a gra
nd stone bridge over what was once a moat and toward the towering entrance gate.

  Ethan Stone pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. “We’re here. See you shortly.” And he hung up. He led us past groups of tourists and their guides, and past open areas of excavations by archaeologists. The Citadel was an array of different levels of excavations, some sections cleared and others barricaded from visitors, and we had to hop up and off short ledges when there weren’t any stone steps. The walls of some buildings still stood with little damage to their structure, while others had been reduced to rubble, though leaving clearly defined floor plans. We passed through archways of stone of alternating colors and through magnificent colonnades lined with gorgeous Hellenistic columns. The entire city, with its rich variance in ancient styles, was incredible. I wanted to veer off our path and go explore so badly, but we had a mission to see through. I wondered, for a fleeting, sad moment, if when I became an archangel again I’d even care about the beauty of the Citadel.

  “Hello!” an attractive woman in her midthirties called out to us and waved. Dressed in khaki shorts and a wide-brimmed sun hat, she looked like she’d meandered off the set of an Indiana Jones movie not five minutes ago.

  “Rebekah,” Ethan Stone greeted her, and kissed both her cheeks. “Ellie, Will, meet Dr. Rebekah Massi. She is an old friend and accomplice on many adventures. She’s treated me to archaeological finds not available to regular visitors, including some passageways still being excavated.”

  She flipped her long braid of dark hair over her shoulder and smiled at us. “It’s wonderful to meet you,” she said, accent thick. “Ethan has told me you’re interested in climbing down into the tunnel system beneath the Addu Temple. It’s really a very exciting maze of a system. The tunnels are still mostly intact. We haven’t run into many that have collapsed.”

  My eyes bulged and my stomach turned. As claustrophobic as I wasn’t, I had no desire to be buried alive in Syria. or anywhere.