Exalted

by Ella James

  She didn’t give Dizzy the satisfaction of screaming, but her body instinctively tried to flinch—useless since she was all tied up.

  Dizzy giggled, a gross, high-pitched sound that reminded Julia of a Disney villain.

  “Are you scared, little One?” Dizzy was on her knees on the bed that was right in front of Julia's chair, leaning forward, over Julia's lap. Her long, dark blonde hair had been chopped above her ears, so she looked like an evil, skinny pixie.

  She dragged the gun down, pressing it between Julia’s boobs as her free hand squeezed Julia’s shoulder, and Julia felt terror bloom inside her. Her mind screamed Cayne! But he wasn’t there, and she couldn’t afford to need him in this moment. Not if she wanted to live to find him.

  “Dizzy, what do you want?” Her numb lips and chattering teeth garbled the words a little, letting her know it hadn't been long since the snowy scuffle.

  Dizzy released her with a shove and sank down cross-legged at the foot of the bed. She rested the gun in her lap, and Julia frowned. “Are those my shoes?”

  Dizzy’s Converse All-Stars were hot pink, and the sight of the shoes made Julia sit up straighter. She glanced down at herself, trying and failing to stick out her tied feet.

  Dizzy laughed, mistaking Julia’s shoe check for something else. “You won’t get loose. I had Shea tie you up, and that little bitch is good at everything. You’d think she was The One.”

  Shea… That was her name. The deaf girl from the dish room. The one who’d turned the tide in the fight on the mountain.

  “What did she do to me?” Julia asked hoarsely.

  Dizzy shrugged. “I dunno. Didn’t ask. Don't care.”

  Julia remembered the pit in her stomach when they’d found Nathan and his crew waiting at the bottom of the path. It had quickly filled with anger, and she’d gone Super Julia, blasting everyone she saw. Then Shea had appeared, and everyone she saw had been Shea. All the Sheas rushed her at once, and then…she couldn’t remember. She had woken up to Dizzy.

  Julia cleared her throat and tried to project a little confidence. “Where am I?”

  The room around her was…weird. Plastic walls, a metal bed with shimmery silver bedding, a gray recliner in a corner.

  “Where do you think?” Dizzy asked, pressing her lips together. She stared at Julia with her hate-filled gray eyes.

  Julia exhaled. “I have no idea.”

  “We’re in an airplane. You really can’t tell?” Dizzy asked with a wave of her thin arm.

  That made sense. It explained why she had sensation of moving.

  “Do you feel like a captive, little captive?” Dizzy crooned. She was leaning forward again, wide-eyed, with a small smile, like she was examining a bird she had wounded.

  Julia tested the binds around her wrists and ankles, finding them not so tight that they impeded her circulation, but too tight to escape. Still, she scanned the room for a way out, figuring when she didn’t find one that the door must be behind her.

  Julia glanced at the gun still held loosely in Dizzy’s hand, and wondered why the crazy girl had it in the first place.

  “Dizzy…you mentioned your dad earlier. Who is he?”

  Dizzy’s thin lips pulled into a straight line, and she stuck out her chin, looking petulant.

  “Remember when you hurt me during our dagger fight?”

  It took Julia a moment to realize Dizzy was referring to Marilee’s death.

  “What’s that got to do with your dad?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Julia hadn’t been interested when she brought it up; she just wanted to keep Dizzy talking, and hoped she’d be able to squeeze more information out of her. But the half proud, half guilty look on Dizzy’s face made her curious.

  “You mentioned him earlier, though. Is it a secret or something?”

  Dizzy folded her birdlike arms. “It shouldn’t be. I’m his daughter, not you. I’m his only daughter.”

  “Is that supposed to be a clue?” Julia asked as patiently as she could.

  “I think you know who I mean.”

  When Julia realized what the girl was implying, her jaw dropped. “Are you saying that your father…that he’s Methuselah?”

  “I’m not allowed to say that.” Dizzy ran a palm over her short locks. “But I think you get my drift.”

  “Methuselah is your father.” Julia nodded, trying her best to keep her face neutral. She didn’t understand what game Dizzy was playing. Methuselah was thousands of years old, after all. Could he even…do that?

  Dizzy licked her lips. “The One is supposed to be his ambassador to Heaven. The One is supposed to free all of the Chosen. And it’s me, not you!”

  Dizzy jumped up off the bed, and at the same time, the plane bounced a little. The girl almost fell, but she stuck out her arms and grinned. “See that? I’ve even got excellent balance. But I have something else you don’t. Let me show you.” Dizzy turned away from Julia, looking down at the pink All-Stars Julia now figured were imposters (her feet had thawed, so she could feel them inside her own shoes), and all of a sudden Dizzy was pulling off her slick, weatherproof gray pants and lifting up her gray sweater.

  “See this?” she asked as Julia averted her eyes.

  “This,” she said, now pointing to the huge birthmark that covered her bare butt and back, “is the mark of The One. Methuselah has the mark all over his lower body, or so my mother said before she died.”

  Julia grimaced, and Dizzy, misunderstanding, said, “He only poses as an old man. His body is actually still young.”

  She pulled her pants back up, pulled her sweater down, and turned to glare at Julia. “Look at you. You’re pathetic. I’m not sure you’ll make it to Alexandria at all.”

  “Alexandria?”

  Ignoring her, Dizzy stepped closer, trailing a finger over Julia’s hair. “Without you around to trick him, I think my father will see that I’m The One.”

  Dizzy smiled a sly cat smile, and Julia held her gaze. “Untie me, Dizzy. Cut my binds and let me up out of this chair. Now.”

  Dizzy looked uncertain for a minute, like Julia’s words had the effect Julia had hoped; then she smiled. “You’re not Nathan, you know.”

  Dangit. Julia exhaled. “You know, I don’t even want to be The One. If you want to take my place, I’ll help you. We can…I don’t know. Or hey…better yet, why don’t you just let me go when the plane lands? I swear I won’t come back. Why did you even bring me here to begin with? You know I don’t want it.”

  “It wasn’t my choice,” Dizzy sighed.

  “Whose was it, Nathan’s? We can see if maybe he could talk to your—your father. They’re kind of friends or something, right?”

  Dizzy shrugged. “Nathan’s almost as bad as you are. Distracting him from me.” She pulled out the gun again, picking at the nose with her long, pink nail.

  “Maybe I could cut your birthmark off,” she mused. “Maybe they’re what give us our gifts.”

  “I don’t think so,” Julia said when she could find her voice.

  “You wouldn’t.” Dizzy rolled her eyes and leaned down, her breath warm on Julia’s face. Then everything went topsy-turvy.

  Chapter Three

  Carlin was the youngest child of her mother, a writer for a Spanish soap opera, and her father, a real estate developer. She had two older sisters, one from her mother’s marriage to another man, and the other from her father’s marriage to another woman.

  Her father’s daughter, Rita, was ten years older, and when Carlin was five years old Rita was fifteen. Rita sometimes would tease her, calling her the little fool. She thought of that name now, as she studied the plane, finding nothing that could help them escape.

  Little fool!

  It was true, she did not have the power Julia had, but she was strong, and she had not done a good job of showing it. On the snowy mountain in St. Moritz, after she had first became wounded in her passion to throttle Nathan, she had then allowed herself to be t
ouched by Adam.

  But what was worse, she had allowed herself to be fooled by Edan. It seemed obvious now, flying on a plane bound for The Three, that Edan had been the real betrayer. Nathan had never pretended to be on their side, but Edan had.

  She should have been more skeptical, but no. She had been wooed by a pretty face and body. Little fool!

  Carlin leaned her left ear to her shoulder, as she had found that pressing on the shoulder caused a little pain, and that would take her mind away from the big pain, deep inside her shoulder, in the bone.

  A bitch of a Chosen had shot her, and though the bullet had gone through her and out, it hurt like hell.

  She had bitten her lip until it bled because she would not moan. Meredith, strapped into the seat behind Carlin, was crying sometimes, and Carlin did not blame her. A while ago they had trusted Nathan, at least some, and Meredith had gone on trusting him because Nathan was kissing her and tricking her. Of course the girl was upset.

  In front of Carlin, there was Drew. Sometimes he turned around to look at her, and Carlin would snap, “I am fine!” and Drew would show her his worry through his eyes.

  The cabin was small, with a few rows on the left, and on the right, a table and a recliner. In the seats it was only the three of them, and behind them, in the recliner, there was a Shepherd with ugly red hair.

  Carlin had no idea where Julia was. She’d been in so much pain, she had not noticed anything when they were loaded into trucks and driven to a waiting plane.

  There was a sheet of fabric that partitioned off the nose of the plane, like all private aircraft. Nathan came through the sheet right then, and he was looking bruised and battered. That was good.

  She had intended not to say anything to Nathan the Bastard, but as soon as she saw him, Carlin spoke her mind, taking care to do it in English so he understood. “You are a bastard, Nathan, you are very ignorant!”

  He had the nerve to look upset, like she had hurt his feelings. “What a little pussy. Why don’t you say you’re sorry and why don’t you give us Julia back? Oh I forgot! Because you are a pussy. Do you like pink panties?”

  Carlin had a cousin, a male cousin, who liked to wear panties and dresses, and she didn’t mind that, not at all. She even felt a little bit bad for using panty-wearing as an insult (she wore them too, after all), but mostly she felt only rage. Nathan walked over to her and he leaned down, looking at her shoulder.

  “I’ll find someone who can heal that for you,” he said softly.

  “I would rather take the pain, thank you Nathan. Or better yet, find me Julia. She can heal this!”

  Nathan shook his head, acting as if he was sorry. “I can’t do that.”

  “Is she in this plane?”

  Nathan’s jaw flexed. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his dark gray pants and he shook his head. “Julia’s fine.”

  Carlin laughed. She nodded at her shoulder. “You are not really a shepherd, but the wolf!”

  “I must agree,” Drew said, straining in his chair to look at Nathan. “Can you release us, Nathan? We’re not much of a threat at 30,000 feet.”

  The bastard shook his head. He beckoned the red-haired bitch Shepherd. “Come here, Clarissa. I need you to cover for EcKland so Gabby’s not flying solo.”

  EcKland? Carlin remembered him only vaguely. Blond hair, and ugly. “Are you too afraid to show your face to us, who you betrayed?”

  Nathan ignored Carlin, ushering the redhead bitch through the sheet. He whispered something to her as she went.

  Then he turned back to Carlin, Drew, and Meredith.

  “I have questions,” Drew said, “and I think I deserve to have them answered.”

  Nathan’s eyes flicked behind Carlin, to Meredith, who was crying again, and he nodded once as his mouth pulled down. “Shoot.”

  “I want to,” Carlin snarled.

  “Where is Julia?” Drew demanded.

  “I can’t tell you that,” Nathan said. “It’s a matter of security.”

  “I’m a Shepherd.”

  Nathan’s face hardened. “You’re a deserter, Drew.”

  “You’re on the wrong side, Nathan.”

  “It hurts me to hear you say that.”

  Carlin laughed out loud. “Pussy,” she hissed.

  “How did you find us?” Drew asked.

  “That’s not important.”

  “You made a deal with Edan, didn’t you? Where did he take Cayne?”

  Nathan frowned. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t believe you do.”

  Drew did not reply to that. “We watched Julia struggle with being away from The Three. She had headaches. They gave her those, and they’re killing her. It's obvious to anyone. She’s not safe there.”

  “She’s safer there than anywhere else.”

  “She should not have to go back!” Carlin cried. “None of us should.”

  Nathan nodded. “If that’s how you feel, as soon as Julia does what she has to do, you guys can go. We only have you now so you don’t cause any more trouble. Julia’s role is very important. More than you realize.”

  A croaky voice came from behind Carlin: Meredith. “Enlighten me,” she said.

  “This isn’t common knowledge,” Nathan said quietly, stepping closer to Meredith, “but the oldest of The Three is actually Methuselah. He was an angel who came to Earth on behalf of The Alpha to protect humanity. The Alpha erected a barrier to keep the Demons out of Earth, but it kept Methuselah here, too. Over time, Methuselah’s descendants became an army who could help him return to The Alpha. That’s us,” he said quietly. “If Methuselah can bring down that net The Alpha put up, we can all consort with the Authorities. Those are angels.”

  “We know that, idiot!” Carlin wished he spoke Spanish, as it would have been much easier to express her disgust in her native language.

  “Did you ever consider that The Alpha didn’t want Methuselah back in Heaven?” Meredith asked.

  His eyes widened. “That’s preposterous.”

  “Why doesn’t he just open the barrier and let Methuselah through?”

  “He meant for the barrier to stay up forever. But he didn’t know Methuselah couldn’t get back through. He didn’t know it would trap us. It was all a mistake. Methuselah needs Julia to help make everything right. After she’s done, she can live her life however she wants.”

  “That’s a lie,” Drew said. He snorted. “It even sounds like one. A bad one only a fool would believe.”

  “It does not!”

  “None of this explains why he needs Julia,” Meredith said.

  “That is right!” Carlin agreed.

  Speaking to her as if she were a child, Nathan said, “Methuselah is old, Carlin. His body is too feeble. That’s why he needs Julia. He’ll give her some of his power, she’ll take down the net, and then she’ll be free to go. He can’t use just anybody. It has to be the strongest Chosen available. His power is Celestial, and it takes a strong body to hold it. Even his sons can't hold it, because they're old, and their bodies aren't as strong as Methuselah's—he is a deity—so he has to use the strongest Chosen.”

  “Oooh, yes.” Carlin rolled her eyes. “I think he wants to go to Heaven, to challenge The Alpha, and he is using Julia.”

  “We’d all benefit,” Nathan insisted. “He’ll do away with the Demons and the Nephilim. He plans to cast the net down over them, trap them in Hell, and free the Earth to consort with Heaven.”

  “Why didn’t Methuselah just tell us all this?” Meredith asked, sniffing.

  “It’s an offensive plan. They can’t go telling everyone. There are spies, like Monte. Remember what the Swiss rebels did? They wanted to kill Julia. We don’t want to. We only want her help.”

  “They didn’t attack a bunch of innocent Chosen at a resort,” Meredith said in a voice trembling with anger. “You did. You and Adam and Dizzy and all the rest.”

  “I didn’t want it to happen that way, but it’ll work for the best for all Chosen. Yo
u’ll see, Meredith.”

  “All I see is that I was stupid to trust you.”

  “You weren’t.” Nathan looked sad, his smaller lip poking out like a stupid child.

  Then the fabric swished, and the tall, fair-haired ugly man walked in.

  “EcKland,” Nathan said.

  “You needed me?”

  Nathan nodded. “I’ll talk to you later, Meredith.”

  “Don’t bother, Nathan.”

  “It’s not a bother. EcKland,” he said, motioning toward the back of the plane, where another fabric sheet hung. “Why don’t you come back here with me?”

  Chapter Four

  Julia was starting to feel like a drug addict. Or at least like she thought a drug addict would feel. She was there one minute, gone the next. Like Henry from The Time Traveler’s Wife. Remembering the book, one of her favorites from another life, made her want to cry—and that was before she got her bearings.

  She’d had a vision at Rosa’s house, a vision of herself on the Amtrak she and Cayne took to Washington. But in the Amtrak vision, there had been a tunnel—a dank, muddy tunnel that had housed a far-off light, a candle that burst into flames, some primitive drawings, and a freakish, hissing puff of wind that had knocked her off her feet.

  Goosebumps spread across her skin as she inhaled the same dank, stale scent that had filled that place—a deep-underground kind of stink. An old, dead smell that made her want to cry for Cayne, or for Suzanne. It occurred to her, as she floated, flat on her back through what looked like a narrow mud tunnel, that she was still a child if she wasn’t sure whether to cry for her mother or her lover.

  How could it have come to be that there was no one to save her? That her fate had come to claim her? She was only seventeen.

  Julia inhaled incense, the scent of boiling tea leaves overpowering the dirt smell…and she could tell now that something fabric-like was pressing against her from behind, that she was being carried on some kind of stretcher.

  Deeper and deeper into the earth.

  Tall, shadowed figures were carrying her. She could hear them breathing, could feel their movements as they shifted, lifting her over their heads as they carried her through the hall. As she came around more, she could see the flickering of torches and feel the damp kiss of fog—just like the vision from Rosa’s house.