Beckett is the kind of being who lives in the moment. He takes life by the tongue and tells it what he’s going to do, not the other way around. Then a beautiful woman walked into his life, a soul that’s a perfect reflection of his essence. Her soul and his essence complement each other wholly. While they enjoyed keeping each other company, feelings emerged, change happened, then denial set in. Ultimately, Beckett found he could deny it no longer, and his fear tore him apart.
It breaks my heart for the both of them.
There’s a firm knock at my door, pulling me from my thoughts just as quickly as I’d fallen into them. “It’s open,” I announce.
Eric pokes his head past the door, holding it slightly ajar. “Psst! Guess who’s here,” he whispers harshly, excitement begging to be released.
I rock up to my feet, “Who?”
Ezra peers over Eric and whoops, “Oi, Princess!”
“Ezra!” I call out in a sing-song voice. As he enters, I simultaneously jump into his arms. He swings me around in a circle, my feet kicked up. “You’re alive!” I admonish.
He kisses my cheek, then sets me on my feet. At arm’s length, his face screws up at me, “Are you crook? What’s the matter with you?”
I wave my hands wildly, “What are you talking about? I’m fine! I’m great! Are you hungry? I’m starving. Eric, are you hungry?”
Ezra looks to Eric. They share a silent conversation.
“What?” I aim.
Eric tells Ezra, “She’s been like this since they made her purge the Darkness a second time.”
“A second?” Ezra echoes.
“Like what?” I pout. “You mean my eyes?”
Eric gestures at me from head to toe, “No. This… You’re…bubbly.” He runs a hand through his hair, “It’s like Alice…times ten!”
“Well, excuse me for being in a good mood.” I push past, grabbing Ezra’s hand and dragging him along. “Come on, Ezra. Let’s go eat. I’ve got a favor to ask you anyway.”
I show Ezra the new café Jack made, then take him to the new kitchen. I force him to sit at the table while I make blueberry pancakes for us. I gather the ingredients from the cupboards, piling them together on the counter. Ezra is oddly quiet. I prompt, “I never thanked you.”
“For?” he wonders, leaning back in his chair far enough to rock onto two legs. It balances effortlessly.
I begin to mix the dry ingredients into a large bowl, “For being there for us, The Keep, The Gray Legion. You helped us capture Lilith.”
He harrumphs. “It was nothing. I wasn’t going to pass the chance to go down in history.”
I stop whisking the dry ingredients into the liquids, spinning on him. I point with my utensil, squinting unhappily, “You shot me.”
His easy smile falls. The chair touches down on all fours without a sound. Ezra is a ninja. He gives nothing away as I stare him down.
A cunning grin climbs my face. “Good thing you did.” I turn back to the bowl, continuing to whisk the pancake batter. “No telling what I would have done in my state. I never would have gotten away from my oath to Lucifer either.” I still a moment, then direct over my shoulder, “Thank you.”
Ezra jolts from his chair, “You’re right pissed! Nothin’ but rubbish comin’ from ya’!”
I roll my eyes, turning to the hot skillet on the stovetop, “Pfft! It’s not rubbish. I truly owe you.”
He mumbles, “What happen’ to ya?”
A bit peeved, I face him with my arms crossed over my chest. “The Darkness was a part of my essence all along. I gave it up to prove myself to the Light.”
“Never heard of a Dark essence,” he challenges.
I turn back to the skillet. I note, “Nobody has heard of an Angel of Darkness breeding with an Angel of Light before either.” I pour the first set of pancakes into the skillet, watching their edges bubble.
The feet of his chair grate against the floor as he takes his seat again. “Say I believe you. That would mean you gave up a piece of your essence…to prove a point.”
I face him again. “Yes, but I’m perfectly fine.”
He whistles, shaking his head. “For such a beautiful woman, you’ve got gonads.”
“Thank you,” I respond curtly. My brow raises, “I think.” I spin around to flip the pancakes.
“It’s a compliment. Now, what is this favor you need?”
I lean with my back against the counter, crossing my arms again, spatula still in hand. “I need you to find someone.”
“What type of someone?”
I tilt my head and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I wonder to myself if he will believe me. They’re supposed to be extinct. It’s said that Michael had killed each and every one of them. I open my eyes, righting my vision with a huff through my nose. “A Lilim.”
He gives nothing away but excitement. “Fair Dinkum?”
I add, “She’s lethal. No joke. She was pulling me into some kind of dream world. I don’t know what other abilities she has. It may be nothing. Though, you should be aware she’s working with Lucifer and his Fourth Duke, Mephistopheles.” I remove the pancakes from the skillet.
“How do you know this?”
I pour more batter into the skillet. “I had a vision of her storming The Keep with them. I want to prevent that from happening.”
“That’s a big boy,” Ezra notes.
“Mephistopheles?”
“Who else?”
I shrug, “He’s a big baby. We’ve had it out before.”
Ezra snickers. “Who won?”
I flip the second set of pancakes, “I knocked him out in the sand dunes of Sheol and left him there. I imagine he’s a bit upset with me.”
Ezra chuckles. “Do you have any other information on your sister?”
“Ugh! Don’t call her that. Her name’s Cora. We think she was in Red Meadow for a while, but none of the Griffins were able to find her.” I make Ezra’s plate and hand it to him, sprinkling extra blueberries on top. “Do you think you can find her?”
He takes the plate with an excited grin, “Consider it done.”
Chapter 20
It's storming heavily on The Common. We're expecting a category three hurricane to hit us soon. This is just the beginning. I had complained to Camael, hoping we could train in the Throne Room, but he refused. The torrential downpour pelts my skin like a thousand relentless needles. The wind is so intense, I have to conceal my wings. No one should be expected to fly in these conditions. I’m forced to spread my stance wide and lean into the gust. We’ve been battling in hand-to-hand combat for hours without ceasing. My skin is red from the rain and the wind. Strands of hair from my ponytail are affixed to my face. My socks and boots are thoroughly soaked, my clothes are weighing me down, my vision is limited, and I would love some coffee, a warm fire, and a jar of peanut butter right now.
Camael grabs me from behind, locking his hands around his wrists. I know if I throw my wings out, we will both go tumbling and lose control. I have no choice but to keep them in. I hunch over, gripping his right forearm across my chest with both hands as I drop my chin. I sidestep to the right, then plant a solid foot into the mud between the back of his legs. I drive my skull into his nose, throwing him off balance. My elbow meets his chest and his ribs rupture. I twist into him to toss him over my shoulder, using my back as leverage, but the Angel of War has other plans.
He pitches himself backward, coils my back ankle between his crossed legs, and then wrenches his legs closed. I wail as bone is manipulated by bone into distorted angles not meant to be achieved by solid mass and my ankle shatters. I hit the shallow puddle of mud with my face. Light flashes behind my eyes, then quickly fades. The darkness consuming me is an abrupt lack of consciousness rather than the obnoxious malevolent mentality that previously resided within me. For the first time, I find myself grieving for the loss. I quickly correct the thought, justifying its occurrence to my current state of excruciating pain. I’m Teloch. I should be able to
manage without its wickedness.
I’m promptly dragged through the mud by my hair. Camael’s fingers are threaded through my locks, gripping a fistful of my drenched hair at the roots. He stomps the length of The Common as I fight to regain my footing. My ankle is trying to heal itself, but it’s taking too long. The Original roars, “What is the matter with you? Fight!”
Camael lifts me from the ground. My feet dangle past the precipice of the cliff. The waves crashing below are eager jowls of unfathomable monsters, chomping at the bit to devour me whole. My tears are camouflaged by the storm as I weep, “I am!”
He testifies, “Lies! You have rivaled my own strength and skill in the past! This is not your best! Have you given up?”
“No!"
He snarls, “Prove it!” He frees my hair from his grip, and I drop. I’m an anvil of broken emotion.
I have no choice. I release my wings. I’m wrenched into the powerful gust, my eyes wide in fear. My wings are propelled behind me, making me a weightless torpedo. I tumble and twist in the air over the sea. I have no concept of direction and squeeze my eyes shut with the dizziness. Attempting to stop myself, I force my wings forward to cup around my body. The constant wind is too much for them, and they snap back. I tumble backward until I collide with the water.
Below the surface of the ocean, there is tranquility. I sink slowly as I watch the water above me prickle with the onslaught of rain. The caress of the current soothes my numbed skin while my body completes healing my ankle. I pull my wings inside myself and continue to sink. Above the abyss, a restless storm waits. The last thing I want to do is break the surface. I close my eyes and appreciate the peace to collect myself, searching for strength in my resolve.
I’m ripped from the sea. I dangle from Camael’s arms before he tosses me to the ground of The Common like a ragdoll. He paces heavily. I push myself onto my hands, yet remain in the mud out of fear and shame. He stops. His shoulders deflate. He avoids my direction as he voices his disappointment, “You are not Teloch.”
I’m stunned into silence, humiliated with my defeat.
“Teloch is strong, defiant, cunning, passionate.” He locks eyes with me, “Teloch had a backbone and never gave up or gave in.” He presses more severely, “Where is your backbone, Ivy?”
I deserve every ounce of his words. I’m questioning the very things he speaks of. When the day began, I imagined how easy training with the Originals would be. After the first blow from Camael’s foot to my chest, I wondered why it hurt worse than any I had received before. It wasn’t until the third hour of training that I understood that knowing something is much easier than doing it.
I had plans for the day. None of them happened. I was going to prove myself, but I didn’t. Now, all I can do is question myself. What have I done? Did I destroy the part of me that was Teloch? Who am I without the pieces of my essence that make me whole?
Camael walks away, leaving me on The Common. There is nothing left of me but disgrace.
I don’t know how long I stay before the rain and the wind die down. I’m empty and hollow. There’s an urge to run, to fly far away and find myself again.
So, I do.
The Tunnel is amazing. Stepping inside is like falling into a rabbit hole. My core flutters into a frenzy of winged insects—butterflies, ladybugs, dragonflies, moths, and bumble bees—alerting me to the plethora of beings surrounding me. Generally, I would know not to step foot in such a place due to the level of threat potential, yet it doesn’t exist here.
The Tunnel isn’t just an underground club. It’s an escape, a getaway from the everyday pressure of being the creatures we are. There are creatures here I’ve never met before nor truly believed they existed. The music is blaring, vibrating every inch of our surroundings. It’s packed tonight. Every move I make, I’m touched by another being. There’s no malice here. I let my empathic walls down and become intoxicated with euphoria. I lose hours, dancing, sweating, experiencing, and loving every second of it.
My hips are grabbed from behind, and I grind my backside against the bulge of a man’s pants. Who he is, I haven’t got a clue…nor do I care. His hands glide over my body, leaving trails of tingles over my skin. I lay my head back against his shoulder and feed on his emotions while sending my own into him.
Instantly, I’m plucked from his touch and whisked into an open area. Ezra bores down on me, his hand clenched around my wrist, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Ezra!” I cheer, swinging my free arm open. “Come dance with me, Ezra!”
He stares at me as if I’d grown extra heads on my shoulders. “Why are you here? Where’s Jack?”
I shrug. “Did you find my sister? I bet not.” I walk two fingers up his chest with each word until I touch his nose, “She’s. Just. Like. Me.”
He muses, “Not even you are like you.”
I wave a hand. “Who cares? Come dance with me. It feels amazing to just let go for once.”
“No. I’m taking you—”
Ezra’s stern expression falls slack into bliss as I send the euphoric emotions of each being gyrating in The Tunnel into him. I take his hand and lead him back to the dancefloor.
Who knew Ezra had moves? If he wasn’t so busy being a mercenary of the Light, maybe he could find a girlfriend. Thea suddenly comes to mind, and I laugh. Ezra laughs with me. The minutes become hours, then the hours become infinite. Ecstasy is all I feel. It’s all any of us feel inside The Tunnel. There are no worries, no pressures, no responsibilities… And we can stay as long as we want. We never tire. We never stop. Day or night, we don’t care. More beings come, but no one tries to leave. I continue to use my empathic abilities, cycling the exhilaration through the patrons. I create paradise, and we become a unified mass of pleasure.
Next thing I know, a thick cotton bag is slipped over my head, and I’m being dragged down a corridor. All feeling of happiness and delight vanish. I’m left with an acute awareness of indignity, agony, and heartbreak. I scream at my captor, “Let me go! Do you know who I am? I will mess you up! Let me go!”
A door moans open, then a cool breeze hits me. I’m tossed to the ground. Concrete and gravel dig into my hands and knees. There’s a cackling laughter accompanied by the clicking of boots as they approach. I rip the black bag from my head. My hair swarms my sweaty face, sticking to my cheeks. I brush it away with aggravation, and a sense of exhaustion strikes me hard. I’m kneeled in a dark alleyway, surrounded by Fallen. They remain at a distance, allowing their superior to take the reins.
Cora smiles down at me, mocking, “We know who you are.” She puts her hands on her knees, leaning towards me with an overexaggerated pout, “Are you going to mess us up?” She rights her posture, addressing her entourage, “Who talks like that?” The cackling becomes an uproar of profound laughter.
I say nothing in response. I should be able to take her down, yet I should have been able to take Camael. I strategize talking my way out of the situation while she continues to taunt me.
She notes with an air of arrogance, “I know your Griffins were in my club looking for me. I wondered how long it would take you to come for me yourself. I was surprised when you showed up here alone. I gave you twenty-four hours to be sure you weren’t playing me.”
“Your club?”
She nods with excitement. “Nice, isn’t it?” she asks rhetorically. “I supply the drugs, and people simply keep coming. Once immortals discovered it to be a sanctuary, humans began to stay away. It caused a shift in my plans, but it was still a welcome change. The drugs are a hundred times as potent now and just as addictive as they are to mortals.” She winks at me. “Sweet little trick by the way. I wish I could keep their intoxication on a constant loop like that. It would save me from having to supply more drugs.”
I start to rise, but she seizes a fistful of my hair with one hand, lifting me to my feet. I grasp her wrist with both hands, ready to break it in two. I grit through gnashed teeth, “What do you want with me?”<
br />
“I’ve been debating on letting you stay and keeping you as my pet.” Her happy countenance transforms into disgust. “But I fucking hate your existence.”
Cora’s fist connects with my face, tearing a chunk of my hair from my scalp. My left cheek splits open perfectly. I use the momentum of my body to cartwheel, effectively kicking her across the face. I level my stance and raise my loose fists, ready to fight. I contest, “Let’s get this over with then.”
Her eyes whip to me, an eager twinkle within them. She swings, but I parry away, elbowing her in the back. Immediately, she runs up the wall, somersaulting over my head. I jump as she arcs over, wrapping my arms around her waist and slamming her to the ground. Her spine cracks against the ground.
I think to myself, This may be easier than I expected.
Cora roars with irritation, effectively locking her legs around me. I clutch her throat in my hands, attempting to choke her out. She squeezes her legs in kind. I lift her up as I stand, then spin us around. The wall is at her back again, but she clings to me like an ugly wart. I back her into the wall and headbutt her nose.
Blood pours from her sinuses. I ridicule, “A bit soft, are we?”
She spits the blood in my face as a sharp pain slices beneath my armpit. I jerk away. Cora’s knife remains in her hand, sliding from my body like a hot knife through butter. I clasp a hand over the wound, but the blood gushes from me, a cascading waterfall of crimson through my fingers. I become light headed, stumbling backward. I lose my footing and Cora takes her chance. Her foot connects with my jaw, dislocating it. Then it collides with my spine, putting me flat on my face.
Her breath kisses my ear, “Pitiful. No wonder she hated you.”
“Hey!” Ezra bellows from the back door of the club.
Cora’s quick to hide within her followers. One of them must have the ability of evanescence because they disappear in a cloud of smoke.
Ezra rushes to my side, cradling my bloody head in his hands, “I’ve gotcha, Princess. I’m taking you back to Jack.”
The Helio Trilogy: Volumes 1-3 Page 93
