Johnathan had been on the verge of success, slicing open an Angel’s feather for his ritual to open a Door to Hell. But something inside of me had connected with the single drop of silver, Angel’s blood inside the feather, and I had been infused with strength like I had never imagined. That surge gave me the power to break free of my chains and kill Johnathan.
But in his dying eyes, I had seen something sinister. A shadowy figure with wings like shards of glass and shadows, sitting on a throne in a world of fire. And he had looked pissed.
The surge of Angelic power had faded somewhat since that time, but part of it had remained… like a whisper in the back of my mind. I no longer felt invincible, and my shoulder blades no longer ached, but I knew I had felt something back there, and the suspicious part of me had imagined wings.
My magic now had the potential to turn white when I was particularly emotional. And when that happened, whatever spell I was performing was… well, a hell of a lot more powerful than it should have been.
Had the Angel’s blood reacted to me because my biological father had been a Nephilim?
But the stranger part was that Nate Temple also had this white-colored magic when he so chose. And that concerned me. Because he wasn’t tied to the church at all. Not even remotely. He hadn’t even heard about us before. And he definitely wasn’t related to any Nephilim.
These thoughts had pestered me daily since that night, but I was no closer to finding the answers. My only option was to find Amira, the demon who had worked with Johnathan, and make her squeal. And to retrieve the Spear she had stolen, of course.
But I had struck only dead ends, there. I had retraced Johnathan’s steps, and come up with nothing. I had even tried prayer, reaching out to Angels or Nephilim in hopes that my supposed bond with Heaven somehow gave me a direct line to the God Squad.
It hadn’t.
So, I meditated. To stay sane.
I cleared my head of all distractions, all fear, all stress, all sensation, and imagined a single white feather rotating in the center of nothingness. As each sensation struggled against me, trying to catch my attention, I rolled it into the feather, and the feather responded with a light ruffle, as if catching a breath of air. Soon, all was still, and I let the sensation of peace roll over me as I focused on my breathing.
The feather began to darken in my vision, and then it ripped apart violently as dark whispers suddenly coalesced, screaming, shouting, and warning me to move.
Not knowing why, I listened. I rolled to the side and heard a heavy thwack strike the mat where I had been kneeling. I came to my feet fluidly, kamas of magic abruptly crackling in my fists as I slowly opened my eyes. Roland stood before me, grinning madly as he twirled a staff. Then he let out a laugh, seeing my kamas, and tossed it aside.
A dark purple, almost black staff appeared in his palms, seeming to make the very air groan as he slowly whirled it in a circle around his body before settling into an offensive stance.
I wanted to scream at him, to attack him, to ask what the hell? But I kept my face blank.
“I’m getting ready to go back to the Vatican,” he said, watching me, “to meet my associate.”
I began to nod until my brain registered how he had said it. “Your associate…” I repeated.
“The mole you’ve been searching for. The one who sold you out to Johnathan. He works for me. Did you really think the world was so complex? I worked for Johnathan, Callie. I let myself be harmed to give him a chance to get to you. After all, I couldn’t very well get in his way, could I?” He chuckled. “I’ve always known you were special, that there was more to you. Not until Johnathan came did I realize just how special. But then you killed him,” he said, frowning. “This made my job much more difficult. I had to seek out his partner, Amira. It took some time to persuade her, but I think my last task will finally earn her trust.” He smiled savagely. “Bringing her your head will speak volumes.”
Chapter 12
His words hammered at me like a storm, but I dove back into my calm mental state, knowing if I focused on them for one more second, I would go insane. It just couldn’t be possible.
And then he attacked with enough force to kill me, nothing like our usual sparring.
I met his staff with double strikes of my kamas, knowing his strength was way too intense for me to stop with only one blade. Sparks erupted, and I arched my back, guiding his spear over my chest as I played limbo to his staff, letting it sail over my head. I twisted my hips at the last second, and slashed out with my blades, slicing through the meat of his thigh.
He grunted at that, but it didn’t slow him down. The smell of burnt meat filled the air as I stared him down with cold, dead eyes. He took a step back, studying me thoughtfully.
His confession whispered past my control, threatening to break me. I couldn’t fathom it. That he had been behind it all, that he had sold me out to a demon…
But it made a hell of a lot of sense. Maybe it even explained why he’d been so cautious around Nate Temple, fearing that Nate would see through his ruse.
Roland swung his staff wide, the tip whistling as it sailed at my hips. I swiveled so that it struck only air, and flung one of my kamas at him. The blade screamed as it spun like a tomahawk, but he batted it aside with his staff, and was attacking me again, just as the Kama reappeared in my hand.
Rather than hooking my blade against his staff, I simply batted it to the side, using his momentum against him as I spun on the balls of my feet, leading with the tips of my kamas to stab into the side of his neck. Right before contact, my blades struck an unseen force, and I went flying backwards.
I instantly unleashed twin blasts of fiery light that resembled screaming crosses before I tucked my legs and flung out my hands to break the force of the fall onto my back.
Like Roland had taught me.
I slapped the mat with my palms, and kicked off with my feet, to turn my fall into a backwards roll, which I executed perfectly, landing in a crouch with my kamas out before me.
Roland’s chest smoked where my crosses had struck him, obviously too fast for him to deflect, and he looked pissed. Then again, maybe they had hurt him because he was working with the demons.
When those events had started a few weeks ago, we had been fighting wolves, and they had behaved very oddly, even injuring Roland. And when he had retaliated, the wolf had been pinned to the tree in the shape of an upside down cross. Had even that been a sign I had been too thick to notice? How naive could I be?
Roland was chuckling as he approached. “You’re beginning to see. To realize. To connect the—”
I threw both kamas, and then rapidly flung out a cord of power behind him, tugging it towards me so that it hit him in the back of the legs, sending him crashing to his knees as he focused on blocking or dodging the kamas, not even noticing the power behind him.
But I had started running before his knees touched the ground.
He lunged out with his staff in both hands, which suddenly had a horrific looking point at the tip. I jumped, almost horizontal to the ground as I batted it down with my left forearm – accepting the painful burn of its magic – and continuing my momentum to roll to safety over the staff. My feet touched down right where his knees met the ground, but I didn’t stop moving. I pivoted on my left foot, spinning to my right again as I raised my right leg high up in the air. He dropped his spear, and grasped out to latch onto my base leg, but I was already too far into my movement, and my right leg came hammering down like an axe to strike the back of his neck. Rather than letting him take the full blow, I hooked my leg around his neck, the back of my knee pressing into the spine near his shoulders.
Then I let myself fall backwards, taking him with me. I grasped my right ankle with both hands as we fell, trapping his neck in a knee lock. One twist and his neck would break.
I stared into his eyes, panting, and watched as his face changed from disbelieving shock to…
Approval.
Then h
e tapped the mat.
I didn’t let go, continuing to stare at him, not understanding.
“Callie, let him go,” a nervous voice said from the corner of the room. I flinched, having forgotten Claire was here. She was staring at me nervously, as if fearing what I was about to do.
I turned back to Roland. “What the hell is going on?”
“This was a test,” he rasped, throat still constricted by my knee lock. “To see if you could use your wits when everything that you stood for and knew as a solid foundation was shattered. You didn’t cry, beg for an explanation, or yield. You acted. Defending yourself against your teacher, even though that betrayal should have broken your magic, rocking your trust. You overcame your emotions and reacted.” He smiled at me. A light smile, but a very genuine, heartfelt smile.
“Swear it on your power as a Sheph—” I hesitated, changing my demand, “as a wizard.”
He nodded slowly. “Very good, Callie. Even now, you prove your resolve.”
“Fucking do it, Roland! Or so help me god, I’m about to sin all over this fucking place,” I snarled, feeling my eyes burning, and my voice shaking.
But my knee didn’t. Neither did my hand, ready to squeeze the life right out of my mentor.
“I swear on my power that I have never worked with the demons, never will, and have never done anything against your best interest, especially not the things I mentioned a few minutes ago. If I lie, may I go to hell and forfeit all knowledge to wander eternity blind, deaf, dumb, and powerless,” he rasped, since I had subconsciously increased the pressure in my rage.
I let go, accidentally clocking him in the head with my heel as I released him. Then I accidentally stepped on his wrist as I climbed to my feet. Then, while tripping, I accidentally stomped on his crotch before regaining my balance.
Roland had twisted to protect his goods, but took the other blows with a grunt. Then he let out a low chuckle as he waited for me to get out of reach. His spear had crackled out of existence the moment I had solidified my victory over him. I stomped over to Claire, and accepted the blessed water bottle she handed me. I was shaking, and managed to spill a good chunk of the water down my chest as I tried to take a drink. Claire stared at me, sickened with pain at the look on my face. I ignored it, dumped some water over my head for good measure, and then slowly turned back to Roland.
He stared back at me, his arms folded over his knees as he sat on the ground. He looked both proud and sad as he nursed the fingers of the hand I had stomped on. I frowned over his shoulder, and he quickly turned to look. A Kama materialized in my fist and I threw it as hard as I could.
It stabbed into the mat all the way to the base of the haft, right between his legs – and microscopically close to his crotch. Then it began to burn the rubber mat, and he jerked back with a hiss. He finally looked up at me, an instinctive glare on his face, but then it faltered, and he let out a low sigh, nodding his head in understanding.
“I hate you, Roland,” I whispered, trying not to cry. Then I turned to Claire. “Let’s go take you to the bears.” I began to walk away as Roland spoke.
“I’ve already spoken with Armor, and told them I will drop Claire off on my way to the airport,” he said softly.
I slowed, breathing heavily as I kept my back to him. “Come on, Claire,” I repeated.
Claire made a pained sound behind me. “I think it’s best I go with him,” she whispered meekly. “Especially if the bears are expecting me that way. And…” she hesitated, so I turned to look at her. She averted her eyes. “If you already had a rough morning with them, maybe it’s best that you aren’t the one to hand me off to them, reminding them of the embarrassment they faced this morning…”
I clenched my fists, and tried not to scream. Not at her. Not even at Roland. At the fact that she might have a point. I didn’t want my introduction with them this morning to taint how they felt about Claire.
To be fair, my mind had literally just been fucked by the one person I thought I could always trust. But because of his twisted sense of honor and dedication, he had used my trust as a blade to test my resolve, seeing if I would have the strength to stand up to my mentor if it felt justified.
Because he wanted to make sure I was safe while he was in Italy.
I slowly nodded and turned an arctic look on Roland. “Get to the Vatican, old man. Find my answers, and return with a full report. Better yet, call me with information as soon as you get it, because if they find out what you’re really doing, you might end up dead before I get what I want. If I don’t hear from you, we’re going to have words. Short, sharp, burning words. And then I’ll carve off your ears.”
“Callie—”
“NO!” I shouted, suddenly gripping crackling white energy sticks in each fist. My hands were shaking as I glared at him, and he actually scooted a few inches back, face a grim mask at whatever he saw in my eyes. I let the sticks pop out of existence, but didn’t lower my gaze. “I trusted you… And I don’t think you ever realized what that means to me,” I whispered.
And then I Shadow Walked back to my apartment.
I ran into my room, fell face-first onto my bed, and began pounding the mattress with my fists as I let the tears out, my jaws actually aching where I had managed to clench back the outburst until now. I don’t know how long I did this, but at some point, I felt something fuzzy touching my face. I peeled open an eyelid to find my stuffed unicorn staring at me.
I latched onto it and squeezed it like a lifeline, inhaling the very faint smell of black licorice.
Chapter 13
After a few failed attempts, I appeared before a giant wooden door with the Temple family crest emblazoned on the wood so that each of the doors held half of the symbol. I glanced behind me to see bonfires on the property, but since they all looked carefully controlled, and I could see several figures tending them, I dismissed them. I did take a moment to stare at a giant white tree on the property, easily hundreds of feet tall. But I didn’t have time to gawk.
I pressed the doorbell, and a video feed sprang to life on a small screen – high and to the right of my head. An older gentleman in a suit looked at me, and then frowned. “Greetings, Miss…”
“Penrose. Can you take a message for Nate?”
The man looked perplexed, as if not exactly sure what to do. I heard shouting in the background on the screen, and spoke up as the confused man turned to acknowledge it.
“Tell Master Temple that the roof of the Ambassador is simply breathtaking this time of afternoon. Thank you,” I said. I took two steps back, winked at the man’s puzzled face, and then Shadow Walked to the roof of the Ambassador Hotel in Kansas City – the hotel where Nate had been staying when he had visited a few weeks ago.
I had never been to his house in St. Louis, but it really hadn’t been that hard to find. Other than the odd resistance when I had tried to Shadow Walk there, which I had never felt before, it had been a breeze. Maybe he had the place warded or something, and I had been able to break them somehow.
Probably a result of the Angel blood in me.
I sat in one of the two chairs before the table, and waited.
A circle of fire erupted a dozen paces away, and Nate Temple burst through with a whip of white electricity in one fist, a bulging satchel in the other, and a murderous scowl on his face. His tee wasn’t all the way on, revealing chiseled abs.
His eyes darted about wildly as if searching for a threat until he saw me sitting at the table smiling at him. He blinked, lowered his satchel, and released his whip, letting out a heavy breath. The ring of fire extinguished behind him, and he fixed his shirt. Then he walked towards me on bare, tanned feet. He wore casual jeans, and his shaggy hair brushed his ears as he watched me.
He dropped the satchel beside the chair, sat down, and then rummaged inside without speaking to me. I waited, enjoying this.
He pulled out a dusty bottle, inspected it, and then blew on it. A patina of dust sailed into the wind, and he tore off
the foil covering the top before twisting off the cork. The smell of heavy whisky suddenly permeated the air, and he took a drink straight from the bottle.
He silently handed it to me, still glancing about with a thoughtful frown.
I accepted it, took a drink, and instantly felt my eyes water. I pulled it away, coughed, and read the bottle. I didn’t really understand much of it, but one thing I noticed was that it said 1937 on it. I looked up at him, and then tried again, this time ready for the smoky burn.
I took a big sip, pulled it away, and breathed what felt like fire for a moment. Then I settled the bottle on the center of the table, and nodded appreciatively. “I’ve never had anything like that. Do you always bring an ancient bottle of Scotch with you… to battle?”
He grunted, scooping up the bottle as if to use as a weapon. He scowled at it before taking a quick sip. “You damned well know how to cause an uproar, don’t you?” he muttered. Then, he shook his head with a faint chuckle. He took another drink, stared off into the distance again, and began to laugh harder, until he was almost doubled over and panting.
I smiled at him curiously. “What’s so funny?”
He sighed, finally turning to look up at me. “You. Just… you being you, I guess. We’ve got some nasty stuff going on back home, and my butler suddenly runs through the house like a Paul Revere impersonator, shouting about a white-haired wizard named Miss Penrose appearing at my front door,” he flashed me a stern look from under his eyebrows, “past my wards, I might add… And something about the Ambassador on the roof.” His shoulders seemed to relax as he leaned back, resting the bottle on one knee. “Damn near caused a war. I had a line of people trying to come with me, thinking it was a trap related to our own problems. I had to bat them away with my satchel to come here alone.”
I smiled back, and jerked my chin at his satchel. “Why did you bring the satchel and come here ready for a fight?”
He studied me for a long moment, eyes like green fire. “I thought you were in danger, but couldn’t risk taking anyone from their rounds.”
Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 1 Page 33
