“That’s beside the point.”
Jenna rubs her temples, and says, “Whatever you’re up to, I want no part in it.”
“We’re not asking you to kill anyone, Jenna. We just need help locating someone.” Jenna looks up at me, and I quickly add, “It’ll help Nick get over his past.”
“That’s still none of my concern.” Jenna folds her arms over her chest, but I can tell she’s considering it. There’s a distant look in her eye, as if her mind is elsewhere. A moment passes, and she asks, “What’s in it for me if I help you find this person?”
“I’ll owe you a favor.”
“It better be a big one.”
“I’m the most powerful spellcaster this city has ever seen. I can do anything you need me to do.”
“Fine,” Jenna mutters after a moment’s deliberation. “Fine, I’ll help.”
“Alright! When do we start?”
Without another word, Jenna gets up from the sofa opposite Nick and I, and motions for us to follow her to her basement door. She unlocks it with a key that she seems to have pulled from thin air, and flicks on a light all the way down the stairs. What must once have been a regular basement has been converted into an armory; the weapons on display upstairs are nothing compared to the cache hidden underground. There are more guns, knives, and swords than I’ve ever seen collected in one place. “Why do you have all this?,” I ask.
“Different jobs call for different tools,” Jenna explains. She picks up a set of interlaced iron rings, and says, “These, for example, can help dispel a spirit until we can destroy what’s tying them to this plane.”
“What about these?,” Nick asks in reference to a wall of daggers.
“These are to even the odds against greater demons. Each of these blades have been dipped in holy water, it’s the only way to get rid of them. The lesser demons can be stabbed, too, but an exorcism usually does the trick.”
“There are demons, too?”
“Yeah. All the stories are based at least partially in fact. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, witches, faeries, demons, they’re all real. Angels too, but we have no idea how to kill them. We don’t have any reason to, either.”
Nick and I exchange a look, and I quickly ask, “What are these silver daggers for?”
“Those are our most powerful tools against everything in the shifter family. That’s everything from shapeshifters to werefolk. We also have silver bullets, and silver powder to incapacitate them, but crushed wolfsbane is easier to come by.” Jenna stares wistfully at her tools, and adds, “It’s a shame there’s no equivalent for vampires. There’s no subtle way of weakening them; for the most part, they’re either dead, or… well, undead.”
I pick up one of the silver daggers to inspect it closely. “Have you tried vervain?,” I ask.
Jenna just rolls her eyes at me, but doesn’t answer. She understands the reference, but she doesn’t seem to be in a joking mood. Jenna when she’s in Hunter Mode is not someone I enjoy being around.
There’s only one set of items down here that seems out of place. I reach out to touch the gold bangles hanging from the wall, and ask, “What are these for?”
“Those are for storage,” Jenna replies. “Part of our job is being incognito, and openly carrying around all these weapons would definitely draw attention to us. So we carry everything we need in these.” To demonstrate, Jenna flicks her wrist, and a pistol appears in the palm of her hand.
Nick and I gaze at her in awe. “How do they work?,” Nick asks.
“Apparently, it’s a two-way summoning spell on a loop, with the bangle used as the nexus point.”
“But, you’re not a spellcaster,” I point out.
Jenna shrugs. “The inventor said these devices can tap into the user’s hidden power, regardless of whether or not the user can consciously do the same. It’s a blend of technology and magic.”
I’m tempted to ask for a bangle of my own, but Jenna’s doing enough for us as it is. And besides, I don’t have any weapons that I would need to conceal.
The real reason Jenna brought us down here waits on the back wall of the basement, lighting up as Jenna’s fingers brush the keyboard. The computer itself is normal sized, but what happens on the tiny screen is projected against the wall for all to see. Jenna quickly clicks through a few command prompts, and pulls up a database that I’m assuming is full of info on known metahumans. “Give me a name,” Jenna says over her shoulder.
Nick had brought the file along just in case, but he has her name committed to memory. “Evelyn Brenner.”
Jenna types in the info, and says, “This program will take her name, and cross reference it against everything in our databases AND on the internet at large. With any luck, she’s on some social networking site somewhere, or has plenty of friends that we’ve heard of. That’ll make locating her much easier.”
“Thank you,” Nick whispers as he watches the screen. “How long until we have an answer?”
“There’s a lot to sift through, so it could be a few hours if she’s good at covering her tracks. But we’ll find her. We always do.”
“Well, great. What should we do until then?”
“I have a couple of ideas,” I mutter under my breath. Nick throws a confused look my way, and I stare suggestively at him until he gets the idea. To Jenna, I say, “Thank you for doing this, I’ll make it up to you someday.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Jenna answers.
I wave at her as I take hold of Nick’s hand. I’d normally take the slower way home, but now that Jenna’s in on the secret, it doesn’t matter. And, at any rate, the sooner I get Nick alone, the better. So as she waves back, I concentrate on an image of my bed, and in the blink of an eye, that’s where my spell takes us.
There’s so little downtime between our arrival and when I throw myself against Nick, for a moment I’m almost unsure if we’ve left Jenna’s basement at all. Nick’s body responds almost as quickly as mine does, lifting me up and holding me against the wall as easily as he could when he was still a vampire. If this is how strong he is now, he must have been holding back a lot when we first met.
I’m not sure where this sudden hunger came from on my end, but when his mouth presses against mine, my ferocity far outshines his. My fingers find his hair, and his dig into my back as he carries me to my bed. Nick lets me down gently, then crawls on top of me, his lips brushing over my jawline before finding my jugular. I’m just about to pull his shirt over his head when there’s a knock at the door.
Both of us freeze. Nick pulls away from me slightly, and in a labored voice, I ask, “What is it?”
My mother’s voice answers from the other side of my door. “Heather? Can you come out here?”
I look up into Nick’s eyes, his disappointed expression mirroring mine. “Is it urgent?”
“See for yourself.”
Nick and I climb out of bed, rearranging ourselves so that it doesn’t look like anything was amiss. Not that it matters; we’d assumed no one was home, so we weren’t exactly being quiet. I grin sheepishly at my mom when I crack open the door, but the smile fades when I notice Michael standing over her shoulder. Instead of the warm greeting I had in mind, I glare at Michael, and ask, “What do you want?”
“Peace, child. I only came to speak to your mother.”
“What about?” I push my way past them into the living room, where there’s more space.
“You’ve been tainted,” Michael says, avoiding the subject. It’s such a random statement to make that it catches me off guard. When I don’t answer, he clarifies, “Your blood has been polluted with the venom of a lower being.”
“That lower being would be me,” Nick says. “Or, was. I’ve kicked the habit.”
“You must be Nicholas. I’m Michael, Heather’s father.”
“A pleasure, sir.” Nick offers his hand for Michael to shake, but Michael’s stays where it is. I’m not sure if he’s being rude, or if he’s unaccustomed to human intr
oductions.
Michael’s attention turns to me again. “Heather, if you’d like, I can remove the taint from your system. I’m sure having even a drop of vampire within you must have wreaked havoc on your daily life.”
Remove the taint? Michael’s words play over in my head, as if I’m trying to grasp the meaning. Clearly, he’s talking about getting the vampire venom out of me, so I don’t know why I’m fixated on the words. That’s when I realize that it’s my choice; the way Michael worded his offer, it sounded like he was offering me the choice to remain as I am, or be who I once was.
It’s a little out of character for him. The last time we spoke, we spoke of destiny and ultimatums. I take a moment to consider my options. On one hand, the vampire venom has served me well. It’s activated in time to save Nick’s life twice, and I can see it being a useful aid in the future. But on the other hand, it’s more power than I need. I don’t need to be any faster than I already am, nor do I need the night vision, or the enhanced senses. Not to mention the magnetic pull I felt towards warm, pumping blood yesterday…
No, I already know my answer. “Do what you have to do. Being half-angel is hard enough, I’d rather not have vampire in the mix.”
“Very well.” Michael places his hand on my cheek, and I’m shocked by how warm he is. His skin is blazing to the touch. He closes his eyes, and his heat spreads through my body until it feels like my blood is boiling. Maybe that is his solution to my predicament. A few seconds later, a soothing cool sweeps over my body in absence of the sudden heat. I don’t feel any different, but I assume that whatever Michael did must have worked.
For a moment, I wonder if Michael’s treatment will have an effect on the baby. The moment after, I wonder why I even care.
Michael removes his hand, and studies my face with curiosity. “When we spoke, I never told you I was an angel,” he says.
“I’ve done my research,” I respond with a shrug.
“Clearly. I’m impressed.”
“And I’ve spoken to Lucifer…”
“Oh.” Michael frowns at the sound of his brother’s name, and asks, “What news from the outcast?”
“We just had a good talk about God, and your plans for me… there’s a lot you left out of the story.”
Michael’s jaw tightens, and a muscle in his face twitches slightly. “I told you everything you needed to know.”
“Lucifer told me that, and more. About how this is all a game for the heavenly throne.”
“You would take the word of the devil over the word of your own father?”
“What other choice do I have? You told me practically nothing, and most of that nothing was a lie!”
“I had my reasons-“
“Right, because how do you explain to your daughter that you’re basically raising her for the slaughter?” My hands are shaking as I speak, but I force myself to keep going. “How do you look her in the eye, and tell her that she’ll have to kill someone because her father wants so badly to be king that he’ll sacrifice his own flesh and blood? How do you explain to her that you conned her mother into spreading her legs for you, just to achieve your own twisted end-“
“ENOUGH!” I’m knocked backward onto the floor by a huge gust of wind, and I cover my eyes to protect them from flying debris. When I uncover them, I can’t help but to stare open-mouthed at Michael, and marvel at his transformation; two massive wings protrude from his back, covered in pure white feathers. They’re folded slightly to fit within the space he inhabits, but stretched out, they must extend at least three times the length of his body on either side of him. He seemed to take up the entire room with his mere presence, but now, his body easily does the same.
Michael’s voice is unnervingly calm as he says, “You know nothing of the bond your mother and I shared. Do not make assumptions.”
I try my hardest to sound defiant from my spot on the floor. “Then tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you didn’t just use my mom as a brood mare to get the little warrior you needed.”
Michael looks over his shoulder at my mother, and his face relaxes ever so slightly. “You’re wrong,” he says. “Before you were ever conceived, I came to love your mother, as she came to love me.”
“She just happened to serve a purpose, then.”
Michael’s head swivels back to face me, his eyes blazing as he speaks. “Learn to watch your mouth.”
“You don’t scare me.”
“I am an archangel of the Lord, commander of the first garrison, the very last of the eight strongest warriors Heaven can offer. You would do well to show not just fear, but respect.”
“Sorry, but in this century, respect is earned. Not freely given.”
“I am your father, and you will-“
“I will do nothing, Dad. The fact that we’re blood related means nothing to me. It takes more than hooking up with my mom to make you my father.”
Maybe that was pushing things a little too far. Michael clutches his chest as if he’s actually been wounded; for all I know, maybe my words really did hurt him. His wings fold in on themselves until they’re pressed against his back, and I can see where his suit was blasted apart by their emergence. “This is the thanks for the many gifts I’ve given you, then?”
I can’t find it in me to answer, not without yelling in my father’s face. Luckily, I don’t have to. My mother puts her hand on Michael’s shoulder from behind, and says, “Maybe you should go.”
“You might be right.” Michael squares his shoulders, and levels his gaze at me. “Listen well, young lady. Your insolence may serve you at the moment, but there will come a day when you’ll wish you had allowed me to be a father to you. I could have shown you my ways, strengthened you, taught you everything I’ve learned. And on the day you realize you needed me, I will be there to say… What’s the common phrase now? I told you so.”
“Just get out,” I mutter.
Without a word, Michael dips his head to Nick, kisses my mother’s hand, and walks towards the front door, vanishing on the spot just before he reaches the end of the hall.
15
Surprisingly, some part of me feels bad about talking to Michael the way I did. I may not consider him a real father, nor do I care about him in any other respect, but he seemed genuinely hurt. He could just be disappointed by the fact that I refuse to be his obedient little pawn. Or, he could actually want to help me, step in and be a father now that he considers his presence necessary. Either way, I’m not apologizing, not that I could. If Michael really wanted me to change my mind and accept his aid, he would have left me with some way to keep in touch.
Between my mother and Nick, I can’t tell who looks more amazed; they’re both watching the spot where Michael just stood with shocked expressions. I have no idea what’s going through Nick’s mind, but I’m sure my mom is wondering exactly how she wound up conceiving a child with a living, breathing, terrifying angel. I’m mostly just wondering if I’ll ever have wings of my own, but unlike them, I’m hiding my wonder behind the same mutinous mask Michael makes me want to wear during our little talks.
A few moments of silence pass, which are only interrupted by the sound of my voice. “Was he telling the truth?,” I ask my mom. “Did you two actually love each other?”
“We did,” she answers. “Well, I loved him, and I’m not sure if his kind even can love, but he certainly felt something as well. He was a lot more gentle back then. Or, maybe I was just lucky enough to see the softer side under the macho façade.”
I shrug, and push myself up from the floor. The living room is a mess; when Michael’s wings emerged, the surge of power radiating from him tossed everything around. I wave my hand, and the room begins to set itself right. Pieces of broken lamps gravitate towards each other until they solidify into a whole, scattered magazines return to the piles from whence they came, and the fallen pictures return to their rightful places on shelves and walls around the room. In a matter of seconds, the living room looks undisturbed once again.
“It’s not a mess, it’s self-expression. An untidy room is a sign of a busy mind.”
“It’s a sign of a lazy brat.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. Before I forget, I pull my mom into a hug, and tell her, “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“For telling him to leave. For being on my side.”
My mom returns the hug, and whispers into my curly tangle of hair, “I’ve always got your back, kid.” We hold each other briefly, but tightly, and for the first time since I yelled at her, everything between us feels the way it used to.
“What did he want from you, anyway?,” I ask as we pull away from each other.
“Just to see if I could talk you into ‘fulfilling your destiny.’ He knows we’re close, and that you’re more likely to listen to me.”
“And?”
“And I told him that if he thinks you’re going to do anything you don’t want to do, then he’s in for a rude awakening.”
That brings a smile to my lips. I suppose that has become my reputation, and I can’t say I mind.
My phone buzzes, and I dig it out of my pocket to look at the new text. It’s a message from Jenna: “Are you guys still in the area? I think I found what you were looking for earlier.”
I have to fight back a triumphant smile as I show Nick the text. He takes my phone, and I tell my mom we’ll be back later. When she asks where we’re going, I tell her, “We’re going to track down an old friend. We’ll be back later.”
I grab Nick’s hand, and he closes his eyes as my living room fades to black around us, only to be quickly be replaced by Jenna’s living room. Nick groans and clutches his stomach, while I look around for the basement door. It’s been left open for us, so I pull Nick down the steps along with me, and find Jenna against the back wall, watching a mazelike screensaver projected on the wall. “Took you guys long enough,” she says as we draw near.
“There was a lot of traffic,” I reply with a shrug. “What have you got for us?”
Shattered (the Spellbound Series Book 2) Page 11
