by S.B. Rodgers
“Thanks,” he said, plucking the band from her fingers and sweeping his hair back with his hands. He glanced at Abby as he tied back his hair in a long ponytail. “Hey, want to stay and watch me?”
“Why?” she asked “I was only going to get you to the field…”
“No, that wasn’t our agreement; you were gonna cheer me on, remember?”
Abby paled “Why?” she asked again, this time in a whisper.
“Because we’re friends, obviously.” He shrugged as if it was the most apparent thing in the world and she had somehow missed it.
“Friends…”
“Right, friends—so are you going to stick around and watch me be awesome at soccer, or go home and wish that you had stuck around and watched me be awesome at soccer?” Abby hesitated for a second, silent as he picked up his bag from where he had set it down. “I’ll walk you over to the bleachers, ok?”
Abby nodded, followed him across the field to the weathered wooden bleachers. They passed the cheerleading squad, where Brittany shouted orders. She grimaced as Abby walked by with Gabe and called for the group of girls to stop their practice. The girls wandered leisurely behind them, talking and laughing loudly as they made their way to the bleachers.
Abby went to take a seat on the bottom tier, but Gabe stopped her. “You should go up higher, don’t you think?” he pointed at the field “it’ll be hard to see the game from there.”
“Alright.” She turned and hoisted herself onto the first tier, wavering slightly as she lifted her second leg off the ground. She stiffened as she felt a hand on her elbow, stabilizing her.
“Careful.” She looked back. “not good with heights?” he asked, withdrawing his arm.
“That’s not…not really it, I just lost my balance.” She stammered, feeling her face grow hot. Great, look like even more of a dork in front of him, Abby.
“Happens to the best of us!” Gabe reassured her. “I think the third tier should be high enough for you to see everything. You’ll be…?”
Abby scrambled up the remaining two tiers “I’m fine.” She said with a small smile. He gave her both thumbs up and handed her her bag, then put his backpack down on the ground next to the bleachers.
Gabe quickly slipped out of his shoes and trousers, revealing the sport shorts he wore underneath. “I changed earlier,” he explained. He shoved his feet into a pair of well-worn soccer cleats and kneeled, lacing them up deftly. The coach blew his whistle, gathering the team, who had been doing drills on the other side of the field. Gabe waved to Abby as he ran off. “Wish me luck!” he called over his shoulder.
“Good luck,” she called, quietly.
“Good luck,” a high-pitched voice mocked in front of her. She looked up as Brittany plopped down beside her, shooting her a cruel look. “Come on up, girls!” She shouted. Abby watched in astonishment as the entire cheerleading squad encircled her, sitting on the bleachers around, above and below her. They began to talk amongst themselves loudly, ignoring her existence completely. Brittany watched her for a second with her hand resting on her hip, smirking. “Well, this should be fun.”
* * *
“Line up and listen up, men!” Coach Cooper barked “We have a late tryout—Ward here wants to show us he’s got what it takes to be on the team, so we’re gonna have a quick scrimmage; 3 on 3.”
He looked up and down the line of boys critically, then nodded, pointing and yelling. “Tom, Dominic, you’re with Gabe. Raph, Blaine and Kennedy, you’re opposing—jerseys on.” It was then that Gabe noticed a sweaty and dishevelled Raph glowering at him from the end of the row.
Ignoring him, Gabe wandered towards the boys who now stood off to the side, waiting for him. The taller of the two had short, wavy auburn hair waved at him, an amicable smile on his face. “Gabe, right? Gabe Ward, the transfer kid?”
Gabe grinned “Yeah, that’s me! So you’re …Dominic?” he asked.
“Ah, no, actually. Name’s Thomas, but you can call me Tom. This over here is Dominic,” he gestured with his thumb at the stocky, brown-haired boy to his right. Tom leaned forward, whispering. “He’s kind of a jerk.”
Dominic smirked at Thomas “Maybe I’m just not thrilled to be teamed up with the almighty benchwarmer.”
The coach’s whistle blew loudly. “Centre field, men!”
“Well then, gents; let’s play ball.” Gabe said without a hint of irony, heading towards the centre line of the field.
Chapter 14
Raph sneered as he took his place at the centre line, directly opposite Gabe. What did this guy think he was doing? Showing up, ruining his plans, and now getting involved with his sport. He crouched forward as he waited for the whistle to blow.
Gabe ignored Raph’s searing gaze. How dare he ignore me, Raph thought, gritting his teeth in frustration. Let’s see him ignore this…the whistle blew and he darted forward, lashing the ball to the right. The ball skidded across the grass and Blaine intercepted it. Raph smirked. It wouldn't be that easy for the angel to win; he'd make sure of that.
He tore across the field, backing up his teammate as he made for the opposing goal. He saw a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye and suddenly Gabe was crowding Raph as he tried to outrun him. Raph bared his teeth in a feral grimace, growling something obscene in his mother tongue. Gabe laughed. “That was uncalled for.” Raph didn’t answer, running hard to where Blaine was scrimmaging with Tom.
In a burst of speed the angel rushed by him, smoothly steering the ball away from the two boys. "Damn it!" Raph said, pumping his legs even harder to try and overtake Gabe. He trapped him at the edge of the field before Gabe could move over the center line again. He buffeted the ball with his feet, trying to sweep it away.
Raph was concentrating so furiously that he didn’t notice that the angel was speaking. He glanced up “what?” he asked, speaking in the demon tongue, unsure that he had heard correctly.
Gabe was staring at him intently, a very serious look on his face. “I said, don’t you dare touch her again.”
Raph laughed “Excuse me?” he tried to knock the ball aside, only to be blocked by Gabe’s leg.
“Don’t touch her, don’t talk to her. Don’t even look at her.”
“And what if I do?” Raph goaded.
Gabe kicked the ball out of the way and began running down the field with it. He stopped for a second, looking over his shoulder and staring at Raph. “I’ll only warn you once.” He said before passing the ball to Dominic, who had been hovering around the goal for a while. He wasted no time in kicking the ball into the net, high over the head of the goalkeeper.
Gabe ran over and high-fived him as Tom trailed behind. “Nice job!” He exclaimed. The whistle blew, summoning them back to the centre of the field.
Raph was furious. How dare he, he raged, itching to destroy something. He settled for a loud curse instead, which the coach pretended not to hear. The whistle rang out again, and he jogged towards the centre line with the rest.
* * *
Abby sat on the bleachers, staring at the field and trying to concentrate on the game. She watched the goal and smiled, clapping her hands together hesitantly.
Brittany’s eyebrows shot up in mock surprise “So you’re after Gabe? You know you don’t have a hope in hell, right?” She sneered. Several of the girls nearby laughed. “I’m surprised he even talks to you.” she looked at Abby pointedly “you’re just so…ugly. I guess he’s just really, really nice. Most guys wouldn’t even talk to you, much less hang out with you.”
Abby tried to shut her out, eyes trained on the field. She wanted to tell Brittany that she was wrong, that she and Gabe were…friends, or at least that’s what he had said. She watched Gabe, who stood at the centre line, waiting to kick off again. He was wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm when he noticed her stare and waved at her. The whistle blew and Raph kicked the ball away from him again, taking advantage of Gabe’s distracted state.
“Great, Abby, you’ll cost him the game.” A girl sitting below her said loudly.
“Ugh, why don’t you just leave?” another cheerleader complained. “We need Gabe on the team, and you’re gonna screw it up!”
The other cheerleaders began murmuring in agreement. “Yeah.”
“Yeah, she’s right!”
“Get out of here.”
“Nasty slut.” The last comment sparked a shower of laughter and more insults from all sides.
Abby cringed in her seat, embarrassment and pain welling up inside of her. Brittany leaned in. “Leave him alone. He’s too good for you.”
Abby grabbed her bag and stood up, pushing through the cheerleaders below her. She turned around and glared at the girls. “Our friendship is none of your business.” She said, barely keeping her voice from shaking. She turned and began walking away from them, not even looking at the soccer field. Normally I would never do this.
She was used to biding her time, bottling up her anger inside and ignoring the bullying, but she couldn’t stand them insulting her and Gabe. She didn’t know what to make of him, but she knew that he was getting to be more and more important to her. Just as a friend, she reassured herself swiftly.
* * *
Gabe stopped playing and watched as Abby left the field, followed her angry stride with his stormy-blue eyes. He glanced at the direction she had come from, at the cheerleaders giggling on the bleachers. Brittany waved at him and blew him a kiss. He ignored her, looking back at Abby’s retreating form instead. He was furious with the cheerleaders. He had planned for these soccer matches to be a good time for Abby, and they had destroyed that.
Tom ran by him, shouted about “getting his head in the game.” Gabe saw Raph running the ball towards him. He poised himself to intercept, prepared to kick. At least he knew that she wouldn’t hurt herself today. She was far too angry for that.
Chapter 15
The clattering of her high heels against the cobblestones echoed through the alley, nearly masking the sound of her heavy panting as she ran. She glanced over her shoulder, tight chestnut curls whipping past her terrified hazel eyes. Her gaze darted forward again, a sob escaping her throat as she saw that the alley branched out ahead of her, giving her a choice, a final chance to escape. She hurtled forward desperately, turning sharply to the left at the last possible second.
She had hoped that they would run right by her, not be able to follow her in the twisted backstreets of Athens, buy her at least a few precious seconds…these hopes were dashed as she rounded the corner and nearly ran headlong into a thin, pale man who stood in the darkened alleyway.
He observed her with his head tilted and a small, very unpleasant smile on his face. “Thank you for coming, my dear,” he said in a cold, clear voice that sent a shiver down her spine, despite the warm Mediterranean night. “I hope my dogs didn’t scare you too badly.” He said, gesturing with a sweeping motion of his black-gloved hand.
The girl’s eyes widened as she felt them come to stand on either side of her, heard one of them laughing softly as they sauntered past her. Another man and a woman now stood beside the man, staring at her with the intensity of feral dogs. They bore a striking resemblance to each other, clearly siblings, if not twins. Silky black waves tumbled down each of their backs, though the man had his hair pulled back and secured tightly at the nape of his neck. They shared harsh but striking features; angular noses and wide, delicately lipped mouths complemented their matching deep-blue, heavy lidded eyes.
“Don’t fret, Master.” The woman said, covering her mouth with her hand as she laughed “we didn’t bite, much.” The man standing next to Mammon grinned wolfishly.
“No need for that, you two.” Mammon admonished gently. “Be good. This girl is…” he paused for a moment and looked at the terrified girl who stood trembling before him. “I’m sorry, but what was your name?”
She reacted without thinking, her mind and body both exhausted. “M-Melora…” she stammered out, watching his smile grow ever so slightly.
“Of course. Melora is our guest, and you will treat her as such.” The man and woman glanced at each other. “Fenris, Freja. Bring her to me.”
Melora bit back a whimper of fear. This man…no, this demon meant her nothing but harm. This was her first mission, her first time on earth; they hadn’t warned her about this at the academy.
She backed away slowly as the two advanced, herding her sideways. Her back bumped up against a wall, the sandy brick rough and unyielding. A dead end.
She opened her mouth, drew in a shaky breath and planted her feet firmly. She was still an angel, she thought, bravery clawing through her terror. An angel, and a Guardian. She would not go down without a fight. She shut her eyes for a moment, concentrating as the tattoos wheeled and threaded down her arms, weaving through her fingers and into her palms. The marks wove up her back as well, snaking over her neck and spreading to appear on her face. The tattoos began to glow, as did her eyes when she opened them, silvery-white with the power that flooded her small form.
Fenris grinned at his sister. “This looks fun.”
Freja nodded. “I told you before, little brother. Stick with me, and you’ll never be bored again. Now, shall we begin?” She turned her shaded eyes to him.
“Gladly.” He stuck his hand out and clapped it tightly to hers. The tattoos wound down his arm, hers doing the same, meeting at their intertwined fingers. The marks pulsated, glowing with black fire as they twined together, the mirrored tattoos twisting and matting together, climbing up the arms of the siblings. Their eyes changed, glowing with the same black light. Their hands parted, the tattoos remaining twined and barbed from shoulder to fingertips.
“What do you want from me?” Melora demanded, her voice steady and calm now as the heavenly power flowed through her veins. There was no answer from them. She concentrated her power, feeling it build up beneath her palms.
The brother and sister separated, lunging at Melora from either side with clawed fingers. Their actions were the same, his movements in exact pace with hers. They mirrored each other in perfect sync. Their minds were joined as one, every muscle twitch and thought shared and copied, the tattoos constantly shifting in tandem.
White light flooded the alleyway along with the whooshing boom of the explosion. The demons flew backwards, flung hard by the shockwaves that emanated from Melora’s body. Fenris skidded across the rough cobblestones and smashed headlong into the alley’s wall, which cracked around the point of impact. Freja flew in a higher arc and landed with a resounding clang against a metal dumpster, hitting her head and slumping forward.
The light ebbed as the dust settled. Melora looked at her opponents, both of them motionless. She smirked at them, her confidence growing. “That wasn’t so hard.” She muttered to herself, satisfied with her handiwork. “Perhaps I should put these dogs down?” she said, contemplating drawing her sword and finishing the job. She banished the thought. What was done was done. It was her duty as an angel to show mercy and compassion, even to twisted creatures such as these, she thought, remembering her lessons at the academy.
The tattoos raced over her body, concentrating on her back and flowing outwards as she unfurled her wings. The lines of script were fading to feathers when she felt the black-gloved hand pressing into her neck and the other arm snake around her waist. The cold voice whispered into her ear “Now now, my darling…play nice.” Fenris and Freja appeared before her, both very much alive and neither looking pained. Blood oozed out of a cut over Fenris’ eye, though he stared at her with the same intense gaze as his sister.
Mammon kicked her legs out from under her and Melora dropped to her knees, landing in a heap. He reached down and tipped her chin back with one finger, the black leather cool against her white skin. She looked into the cold eyes that bored into her and felt her heart stop beating for a moment. The eyes were dead, as devoid of life as they were of colour. “You will tell m
e what I want to know. Or would you rather continue to play with my dogs?” He smiled, the superficial curving of his lips never changing his frozen eyes.
* * *
Mammon cracked his neck from side to side, rotated his shoulders stiffly. He heard a scraping, rustling noise behind him “Fenris, don’t play with that. It’s dirty.” The sound stopped for a moment, followed by a short whine of resentment. Mammon sighed in exasperation. “Keep some of the feathers, if you must. But be quick about it. I want to leave.”
“You are too indulgent of my brother, my lord.” Freja said, standing next to him with a smirk on her blood-covered face.
Mammon ignored her, looking down at his hands, the black gloves shining wetly in the moonlight. “Ruined a perfectly good pair of gloves for nothing.” Torturing the girl had produced few results. Even with her wing severed in the most brutal way his dogs could manage, even with the stump torn to shreds of bloody muscle and bone, she had insisted that she knew nothing. That she had never even heard of the girl he was searching for.
The only information she had given that was of any use was in her moments before collapsing into shock from the blood loss. She had, through the screaming and crying and gasping for breath, managed to grit something out about America. America…a pair of powerful guardians stationed in America, for unspecified reasons. It seemed worth pursuing to him, he thought. Even if the lead was false, at least Freja and Fenris would get the chance to be outside. They’d like that.
“Come.” He commanded, walking out of the alley. The siblings were on either side of him in an instant, each a respectful step behind him. Fenris held his hands up in front of his face, looking at the array of beautiful white feathers that he had fanned out between his fingers. “Pretty.” He said in a satisfied voice before shoving them into the breast pocket of his bloodstained camel coat.
Freja smiled at her brother affectionately. “They are, aren’t they? It’s always best to pluck the bird when it’s still alive.”
