by Alexia Purdy
“I don’t believe you,” she stated, feeling her certainty crumble with each passing moment. She hoped he wouldn’t keep playing games and waited patiently as the crowd in the room grew thinner and thinner.
Ichiro smiled, knowing full well he had her attention.
“The key leads to the fourth realm, the Skein, a sort of labyrinth-like world. I would’ve thought you’d know more about that realm since you were born there, but it’s obvious your memory does not serve you well. The key can open the portal to the Skein, where there’s so much treasure and magic that those cast from Heaven or Hell would love to retreat into its depths, but there’s no way in without the key. Portal keys which allow one to leave and return as they wish are rare, even in the Skein Realm. The key Ariuk had belongs to a royal of that side and can also open the gate between Heaven and the Skein. There’s only one such key, but first you must enter that realm and find the gate to Heaven. I think Ariuk wanted to try, but he was unable to enter without Skein blood.”
Thalia’s mouth hung wide open, stunned. What did he mean she was born in the Skein? No, she’d been born here on Earth. She remembered part of her childhood. No one had ever mentioned the Skein or her birthplace being other than Earth. Why was he telling her this mysterious place was her birthplace when it wasn’t? What was he up to?
She shook her head. “You’re wrong. You’re lying.”
His scorching eyes flared as a wicked smile graced his lips. The nightmarish persona he’d donned made her skin crawl, and she unconsciously took a step backward. All archangels were corrupt, but Ichiro had to be one of the worst she’d ever seen. Ereziel was saintly compared to this guy, and that realization sat like a rock in her stomach.
The room was three quarters empty now, but the remaining patrons were screaming in fear as Ichiro’s inferno grew. A tablecloth near him erupted into flames, turning to ash as the linen curled away. The wood of the table ignited as though it’d been doused with gasoline. The exits were crowded with people trying to run. They were pushing and trampling one another. Thalia’s attention was pulled to the main exit as Yakuza henchmen began fighting against a group of black-clad men who’d just entered the basement, tossing several civilians aside. Ichiro’s stance wavered as he turned his eyes away from Thalia to observe the new struggle happening behind her.
“Who dares attack my stronghold?” his voice boomed across the room, knocking down the people nearest him. Thalia stumbled back, gasping for air. The others clutched their ears as they attempted to crawl away.
Thalia found herself clasping her ears as well. Ichiro’s power was oddly familiar. It was just like the voice that had assaulted her when she’d tracked the figure who’d been watching her. It was the same magic the disembodied voice had used, she was sure of it. Maybe whoever was following her had learned the trick from Ichiro.
He stopped speaking as one of the attackers lunged in his direction, a large blade in hand. Ichiro grabbed the blade, hissing as it made his skin sizzle, and tossed the warrior aside as though he weighed nothing. Ichiro dropped the blade immediately but reached down to pick it up with a napkin he’d snatched off one of the tables.
“Who dares create swords such as these?” He eyed the weapon, narrowing his eyes in disgust. “The metal is enchanted.”
Thalia knew who dared. She had to get out of there and warn Matt that his blades had been discovered before Ichiro figured out which blacksmith had forged these forbidden swords.
She crouched, finding it easier to maneuver under the tables than through the spaces between them, where men were fighting. A body came crashing into the one she was currently crouched under. She shoved at the dead black-clad warrior. A throwing star was embedded in his chest. The Yakuza were holding their own, and few could get close to Ichiro. This wasn’t the time or place to fight an archangel. Whoever had planned this attack was in serious need of a better strategist.
She got to her feet, bringing her sword out as one of the Yakuza tried to stop her. She swung, shredding his coat, and elbowed him in the jaw hard enough to send him flying backward and into a table. She stalked forward, but one of the black-clad warriors headed her way, a pair of throwing knives in his hands.
Great. Who was Matt selling his wares to? She’d have to make it a point to scold him about the bad company he was keeping. She watched the warrior pull back and toss one her way, which she dodged easily. It wasn’t one of Matt’s magic throwing knives after all. As she heard it thunk into the wall behind her, she gave him a good, solid kick to the knee cap, sending him crumbling to the floor. She bent down and punched him hard at the jawline, knocking him out before he could recover. She left him lying there and made her way into one of the exit hallways, hoping it also led upstairs, because the one they’d used to enter was full of fighters and fleeing patrons. Some of the civilians were fighting back in their suits and ties, but most were hiding under tables while others were screaming and trying to escape. A few unfortunates were lying on the floor, knocked out or dead.
Thalia shook her head. This wasn’t how she’d planned her meeting with Ichiro, but hey, she couldn’t prepare for everything, right? She hopped up a flight of stairs and reached the landing just as a Yakuza came down, blocking her way. He was thin, and part of his face was covered with a face mask. He was also dressed all in black, but he wasn’t part of the invading gang. This one was all Yakuza, down to his jet black, spiky hair and the tiny dragon tattoos on his bare hands. He even had Ichiro’s insignia embroidered on the cloth over his chest.
“You can’t leave, Miss Thalia. Ichiro is not done with you.”
“I’m done with him. He has no right to detain me,” she snapped, bending her knees and tightly gripping the hilt of her sword. She didn’t need an angel-killer to off this one; he was mortal.
The warrior’s eyes narrowed. He glanced behind her, toward the edge of the casino floor. Flicking his eyes back to her, he nodded, bowed, and then ran back upstairs.
What had that been about? Thalia scratched her head but didn’t wait to follow behind him, up onto the first floor where patrons were sitting in the restaurant, looking bewildered. Some were still seated, frozen in place by shock. The smarter ones had left their tables to join the exodus. A haughty few were complaining about not being able to finish their meals. Well, some people had real problems, didn’t they? Thalia sighed as she headed straight through the front door and out into the open air, never more relieved to be above ground.
Once out of sight of the restaurant, she checked herself for injuries. Luckily, the warriors with the angel-killer swords weren’t accustomed to their new weapons. They just couldn’t wait to try out their new hardware, could they? Thalia chuckled, glad she’d escaped Ichiro’s clutches before having to lose a fight she couldn’t win. He had another thing coming if he thought she’d ever willingly give him the locket. Delusional. Regardless, he could make her. A prison of Ichiro’s would’ve been the worst place to end up, and she wasn’t sure anyone would be able to get her out of that.
As she made her down the street, she wondered if the person who’d watched her would be back. She hoped not. Her bones screamed for sleep, and she’d been left with far more questions than answers. It’d been too long since she’d had any rest, and any more interruptions would wreak havoc on her mind and body.
Ereziel had some explaining to do about the fourth realm, her heritage, maybe even about the locket, but in the meantime, she had more important things to do. She passed the street that would take her back to her apartment and bed, but it was not yet time to sleep. She had to warn Matt.
Chapter Eleven
Matt’s shop was oddly busy, with flames sparking and crackling in the forges. He wasn’t anywhere to be found again, unsurprisingly. Thalia glanced around, noting the piles of new weapons sitting atop one of the tables, where the finished blades went. He hadn’t had those out in the open the last time she’d visited.
The bastard was making a business of this angel-killing metal. Wherever he
’d found the recipe to create them, they were obviously in high demand. He should be aware of the dangers he’d put himself in. There wasn’t an angel or archangel in the city who would allow such forbidden weapons to be forged. It would only cause disputes which could lead to an all-out war. That couldn’t happen.
“Matt!” she called out, her voice loud in the echoing workshop. The heat contrasted to the chill she’d just come in from, but it did nothing to warm her frigid soul and ease her panic. “Matt, are you here?”
Please be here. Please be okay.
He emerged from the back room, this time with a different girl at his side.
“Thalia?” He glanced at the girl giggling beside him, tugging on his arm, and had enough sense to look embarrassed. “Twice in two days. How lucky can I be?”
“Seriously, Matt. Who else have you been selling these angel-killer swords to? I just got in a scuffle with the Yakuza and their adversaries”—she pointed to the pile of swords lying on the table—“who were equipped with your blades. Tell me you’re not selling them to the wrong type of people.” She fought back the urge to punch him in the nose. Lord knew he deserved it, looking like a man-whore standing next to Long Legs Louise. Thalia crossed her arms and ignored the girl as he shushed her.
“You better take off,” he whispered to the girl. “I’ve got business to take care of. I’ll call you.”
The girl smiled, her eyes hooded. This made Thalia roll hers as she tapped her foot. The girl threw her a disgusted frown before donning her coat and sashaying out the door.
“Matt, the Yakuza will hang you for making these blades. Ichiro… it won’t take long for him to discover who’s behind them. I come here to warn you, and you’re making more of them and jerking around with some two-bit girl.”
“Relax, Gigi isn’t some two-bit girl. I’ve known her since we were like five. Old neighbors. About the swords… look, I know I should have told you I’d made more than one, but I wouldn’t sell them to anyone if I didn’t have assurances of my own.” He paused, throwing her a disappointed look. “Seriously, Thalia. You don’t really know me, do you?”
“Assurances? What sort of assurances? The Yakuza don’t mess around. They will come looking for you soon. It won’t take them long to find the most gifted blacksmith this side of the Mississippi.”
“I know. I want them to.” Matt’s serious expression made her stiffen.
“You want to die and start a war with the archangels? It won’t just be Ichiro coming for you.” Thalia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Did he have a death wish? Had he breathed in too many fumes from the fires? He had to be kidding, right?
“Let them come. I’ve had enough of their control over the city, over the world. They’re not gods, and they shouldn’t act like they are. They need a helping of humble pudding, if you ask me, and I’m the one who can give it to them.”
“By selling forbidden blades to everyone?”
He shrugged. “I sold one to you, didn’t I?”
“I’m not using it to attack archangels.”
“You would, though, if you had to.”
“Matt!” Thalia didn’t know what else to say.
Finally, a smile broke through the strained features of his face. “So, the infamous merc, Thalia Brennan, has a soft spot for this old blacksmith?”
She groaned. “Come on. I’m not kidding. They’ll kill you, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I risk my own fate carrying this sword. It’s just for protection.”
“Protection? It’s an angel-killer. Just who do you think you need protection from? Think about it, Thalia. It’s they who are the enemy. I’m not in the wrong here.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t agree with you, but you’re asking for war. I can’t have that happen here.”
“So where can you have it happen? Where can we balance the scales of power again? In China? Give me a break.”
Thalia pressed her lips tight, done with the argument. “We have to go.”
Matt began to douse the fires in the forges, extinguishing the flames one by one until smoke filled the room. He grabbed a thick duffle bag and gathered the finished blades. He stuffed the bag with them then zipped it up and held up a hand.
“I just need to get one more thing,” he said, making his way to the back room.
“We have to go. Now. They’ll come here first, I can promise you that.”
“Where are we going to hide?” he called from the other room. “New York is pretty damn big, but not that big. Not big enough to escape a legion of angels and archangels.”
“We’re not staying in the city,” she mumbled. She’d prepared a sanctuary to run to, just in case. She never imagined she’d be taking someone with her, but it was what it was.
“We’re not? Where should we go?”
“My childhood home. One of them, at least. The one no one knows about.”
“What? Where’s that?”
Providence. Where some of her happiest times of her life had occurred. They’d been cut short, but she remembered that place as a safe harbor. “Back home. Providence.”
“Providence, Rhode Island?”
“No. It’s the name of an old farm deep in the woods. No one will find us there.”
“Wow, back home. So, I get to meet the parents?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You know I have none. It’s just a place I’ve kept up without telling anyone.”
Matt reemerged from the back room. He’d donned a jacket over a clean set of clothes. His trucker hat looked worn and faded, but she’d never seen him wear it.
“Did you tell Ereziel about it?”
She shook her head softly. “No. Not even Ereziel knows about it.”
“Wow. I would’ve thought he knew everything about you.”
Watching the fire spark in those deep brown eyes, Thalia felt her stomach swimming. “There are things no one knows about me.” Swallowing down the apprehension sticking in her throat, she turned and headed toward the doorway. She suddenly found herself on the ground, with a massive figure above her. He held a knife in one hand and was dressed in black. The Yakuza’s symbol was embroidered onto the front of his uniform in blood red.
“Matt, run!”
She managed to wiggle a knife out of her belt and flicked it into the guy’s chest. Another knife flew past her shoulder and embedded itself next to hers. The thug fell forward onto her.
“What the…?” She shoved the guy’s weight off and rolled away before jumping to her feet. She glanced up to find the ninja from the Yakuza’s club. Had he followed her there? Shoot, she’d put Matt at risk by coming to warn him.
“Run,” the stranger said. “Now.” He threw her a curt nod before engaging a second attacker who’d come in behind the first.
She nodded back, not waiting to find out why this warrior was now on her side instead of Ichiro’s. Who knew what was going on over there? There very well could be a coup going on in the Yakuza’s ranks. Or this guy was a rogue ninja. She wasn’t sure, but if he’d worked for Ichiro before, his allegiances had now changed.
She grabbed Matt, who’d managed to scramble to grab his duffle bag and backpack and catch up with her. They made it out of the building without further attacks. After they’d traveled several blocks, she changed directions and led him on a winding course toward the rented garage where she kept her car. Once they were inside, she closed the door most of the way but knelt down to peer out through the crack and make sure they hadn’t been followed.
“Who was that guy? A friend of yours?”
“Definitely not.”
“What about the other guys?”
“Yakuza. They all were. I don’t know who our ‘friend’ is or why he’s helping us, but don’t be fooled, he’s also Yakuza.”
Matt tightened his frown as his thoughts darkened his face. “This is my fault. I got cocky. The witch who sold me the spell also gave me one for protection to keep others from discovering who made the blades. She said it might or migh
t not work. I guess we know the answer to that one.”
Thalia groaned. “Wow, for such a powerful witch, she sure fouled up an important spell.”
“Well, she said that’s the price of magic. One spell would work, one might not, and I’d better hope it was the right one. I was just happy the one to make the blades worked. I didn’t think—”
“You don’t think about the future, do you?” she snapped. “Not that there might be people coming after you for what you made. Angel-killer blades are serious business. All the angels might come after you. None of them want to know they’re vulnerable.”
His frown tightened even more, and she immediately regretted her harsh words, but she couldn’t take them back.
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s just… I wouldn’t be able to stand it if they hurt you. I had to warn you.” She sighed and made her way to the car. The old man she rented the space from suspected she was not of this world. At least, she knew he had his theories about her. Some humans were perceptive. They were the ones she had to watch out for. The paranoid people were the most dangerous.
Matt said nothing. Maybe he was mad at her, but there was no time to deal with that right now. They had to get out of town and disappear. Maybe while they were gone, things would cool off with the Yakuza.
“Get in,” she said. “We need to flee the city before the angels find us.”
Chapter Twelve
Thalia shifted in the driver’s seat, grimacing as she changed positions. She reached into the side of her jacket and pressed her hand against her ribs. Warmth and wetness met her fingers, and she withdrew her blood-stained hand and held it out in front of her. She’d let the warrior with the knife nick her side when he’d knocked her down, but so far, the adrenaline and her hard-earned ability to ignore pain had kept her going. But now the wound was demanding attention.
