by Alexia Purdy
She glanced over at Matt. He was fast asleep in the passenger side, as he’d been most of the trip. She imagined he’d been working on those blades a lot lately and hadn’t gotten much sleep. Judging by the weight of the bag in the backseat, she was sure this was the case. He’d worked overtime to make as many of those weapons as he could. Nevertheless, it had cost him his peaceful life. She hoped it had been worth it.
They were hours out of the city and were now driving through the darkness, to her hidden sanctuary. Luckily, there were medical supplies there she could use on her wound. She wondered if she could drive the whole way without losing too much blood.
“You got hurt, didn’t you?” Matt stated, causing her to jump. She squeezed her fingers on the steering wheel to keep it straight, knowing her facial expressions were giving away her pain. It was just a small nick, but it throbbed like crazy. She threw another glance his way. He’d spoken, but his eyes remained closed.
“I thought you were sleeping,” she muttered, keeping her eyes on the road. This late at night, the lack of traffic seemed strange, but at least there was no one nearby to bother them.
Matt yawned and stretched. His body was too big to stretch all the way out, but he made due. His joints popped as he strained his back and rolled his shoulders.
“I wondered if you were injured, but you acted as though nothing was wrong. You rarely ever complain unless something is seriously wrong, and I heard you grunt a couple times while you were driving.”
He nodded toward her blood-stained hand on the steering wheel, which she promptly wiped on her jeans. She was going to have to do some laundry when she got to the Providence property. Luckily, it was equipped with every modern amenity one could need plus an emergency supply of food, clothes, and medical items. As a bonus, it had the biggest advantage of all: privacy.
“We’re close to where we’re going, but honestly, I think I need to wrap this up and take a pain pill.” She pulled the car over to the shoulder and hopped out, wincing. Her body protested at every movement, reminding her of the ordeal of the past few days. In the back of the car were duffel bags of emergency supplies and weapons. She reached for a first aid kit.
Once she’d found what she needed, she zipped up the duffel bag and made her way back to the front. Matt had gotten out of the passenger side and had already hopped into the driver’s seat. She got back in and began to work on the wound, cleaning it before dressing it with a thick bandage. She was struggling to do it all by herself. Matt watched her and shook his head. He knew she’d hate it, but before he started the engine, he reached over and helped her tape the back of the dressing until it stayed put. She bit her tongue as a protest tried its best to slip out. Honestly, she was grateful he was with her. There was nothing worse than being alone while injured.
Her shirt was ruined, and her jeans were drenched at the waist with sticky blood. She probably needed to shower before she could change the bandages again.
“You know you could have just asked me to help you do that,” he said, pulling the car back out onto the road. “Why is it always so hard for you to ask for help?”
She started to laugh, but it made her side scream in pain. She stopped immediately, ripped open the small packet containing the pain killers, and swallowed them down.
“You, first of all, you don’t know who I am. You think you know what my day-to-day life is about, but you don’t. I never ask for help. It just isn’t in my personality. Second, did it ever occur to you that I don’t really need any help? You just make my weapons, and that’s pretty much it. You don’t know anything else about me. Not really.”
Matt sucked in a sharp breath as he flinched from her acidic words. He couldn’t deny any of it. She felt bad for snapping at him, but she seemed to do it every time they spoke. She couldn’t help it. For whatever reason, he pushed her buttons. They truly didn’t know each other at all. Why had she ever thought they were compatible? She had to admit that he was handsome, and he probably thought she was cute too, but that only went so far. One didn’t build a relationship on looks alone.
Love is difficult when there are angels and demons chasing you. With such a thin line between sanity and chaos, happiness wasn’t an option. These fine lines, which she’d carefully avoided her entire life, were becoming blurred. She didn’t know who she truly was, where she’d come from, or what she ultimately wanted from her immortal life.
She slipped a hand into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out the locket, which shined silver under the scant moonlight. Running a finger over the intricate designs carved into the metal, she admired its handiwork for a moment before tucking it back into her pocket once more.
Matt didn’t look like he had noticed. It was probably for the best. She didn’t need any more questions about any locket, or key, or the Skein. She wanted to know more about them, but there didn’t seem to be anyone who could help.
Maybe Ereziel could, but he was out of the picture for now. She couldn’t go to him, not without risking exposure. More than likely, the Yakuza had already paid him a visit.
The silence was terrible as Matt brought the car up to speed and set the cruise control. “So, where to?” The warmth had drained from his voice, leaving him sounding cold and impersonal.
“Just keep going straight. In about ten miles, we’re going to pass through a small town. After that, you’re going to see a road come up quick on the right; it’s unmarked. Turn right onto it, and then we’ll follow it for about four miles before it forks. There, we go right again, deep into a forest until it clears up, straight into Providence.”
Matt wrinkled his eyebrows.
“And you said Providence is a farm?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s the farm I grew up on. Well, I didn’t technically live there long. My parents lived there at one point because they worked for the landowner. But it’s the one place where I can remember being happy. After I discovered who my parents were, some of the memories came rushing back. I went looking for this place after I visited their graves. I never told Ereziel about it; we weren’t speaking at the time.”
Matt appeared surprised. “You and Ereziel didn’t always get along?”
She shook her head. “No. We had a falling out years ago, and I avoided him as best I could at that time. When I found Providence again, it was still intact but run down, and the owners were looking for money, so I bought it off them. I spent years restoring it, turning it into my own little fortress. I have a caretaker who takes good care of the place for me, with no questions asked. I think he suspects I’m an immortal. His parents were the previous caretakers, and he took over when they died. I basically moved the contract to him and acted as though I’d just bought the place just so I could show up and check it out. I think he knows about me, but it doesn’t truly matter to him.”
“So, the demon killer has a place of her own, far from prying eyes.” Matt chuckled as she threw him a wry look. “What about the flyers? Do any angels know where you live?”
She shook her head. “No. I’ve never seen angels fly over this place. That’s why it was so appealing to me in the first place. It’s remote and secure. Plus, no one can really see in through the windows; they’re one-way mirrors. I’ve also set up surveillance cameras for miles around. We’d have plenty of time to hide or run if there was someone coming. Luckily, this place is out of the way. Most angels stick to the cities where there’s luxury and mortal sin to partake in. They don’t like rural areas.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Matt laughed. k¸1¸2
When she didn’t laugh or smile in reply, he fell silent until they passed the town she had mentioned. He took the turn she’d indicated and continued to drive down a dirt road full of bumps and craters. It wasn’t well-maintained on purpose, which kept a lot of trespassers at bay.
Thalia hadn’t told anyone else about her fortress. Could she trust Matt? Not that she had anything against him; it was just the reality of it all. Just how well did she know him?
“S
o, what about you, Matt? You got any secrets that I should know about? Since we’re going to be roommates for a bit, we might want to get to know each other better so we can figure out what best to do.” She closed her eyes, the painkillers barely touching the throbbing ache on her side. The knife had probably nicked a rib or muscle, or it wouldn’t be hurting as badly.
“Well, I’m pretty much an open book, but I do have one secret you might be interested in.”
She lifted an eyebrow, opened one eye, and glanced his way. “Oh? What’s that?”
“Remember when I told you a witch gave me the recipe to make the special metal for the angel-killer blades?”
She nodded.
“That’s not exactly true. There was a witch, yes, but she’s more of a spellcaster than a witch. Also, she was my mother, and she didn’t tell me anything about this spell. I learned it from her journals after she passed away. I found them stuffed into a crevice in the apartment above the forge. The building has been in the family for decades, but after my father died, we stayed and lived there until she died. She buried her journals in the walls. I guess she didn’t want anyone to know about them, but I discovered them when I expanded the apartment and knocked down the wall where she’d chosen to conceal them.
“Once I figured out the recipe to enchant the metal, it took me several tries to get it right. Once I folded the steel just so, well, I was able to make the angel-killer swords dipped in the concoction my mother had written about. I was working on a spell to keep my enemies from finding me, but apparently, my first attempt failed in a big way. I’m not a warlock. Heck, I’m not even close to being a witch or spellcaster. I’m just a regular guy, a mortal fooling with powerful magic that shouldn’t be used. I just wanted to help keep humans safe, and I’m good with metals, so….” He shrugged.
“You thought you’d give humans a weapon that works against immortals.”
He nodded, scratching his short brown hair. He kept it just longer than a buzz.
His story made sense. She wondered what other secrets he held, but it was good he’d trusted her with this information. It made her feel a lot more comfortable around him, a lot more like friends. Maybe this getaway would be a good thing for them, a chance to develop their friendship. The idea of getting to know Matt better grew on her, and she smiled to herself. Spending a few days at Providence would be good for her soul and, if she was lucky, her heart.
Matt turned the car down the last turn off and cruised through the woods, deep into the forest, where the road was almost overgrown with vegetation. At last, they reached a clearing. The farmhouse stood on a slight rise, the lights on, warm and welcoming. The caretaker was not there; he came about once a month to check on the place and keep things stocked. Otherwise, everything was automated so people would think somebody was living in there, recluse or not. The place did look lived in and well kept. Thalia couldn’t wait to lie down in her bed and get some much-needed rest in a place where she felt secure.
Safety was not a luxury she was often given.
Chapter Thirteen
“Who did you say takes care of this place when you’re not here?” Matt asked.
Thalia always carried a key to the Providence house on her person and had just opened the door and walked into a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Shutting and locking it behind them, she faced Matt before dropping her bags of supplies. She carried only a light one since Matt had taken the other one along with his own duffel bags of supplies and weaponry. Her injured side was killing her.
“A man named Paul has been the caretaker since he was in his fifties. He’s older now, and I’m sure he has figured out that I’m immortal, though I have changed the name on the house deed at least twice.”
Matt’s eyes widened, impressed. “Wow. I guess he doesn’t mind working for immortals.” He scanned the foyer, his eyes landing on the stairs and the two areas off each side of the stairwell. “This place is nice.”
“He’s got a budget for repairs or any extra help he might need. He also gets a rotating housekeeping staff to keep it dust free and well-stocked. When I’m not here, what he says, goes. I do let him know when I’m going to stay here for a period of time so he doesn’t bother me. I texted him while you were asleep in the car and asked him to get things ready. But it’s been a while since I’ve returned. He’s probably wondering what’s going on.”
Matt listened quietly as she relayed the information, glancing into the sitting room to the left, where a large fire was roaring. Beyond it was a dining room, where food had already been set out for dinner.
“How long do you think we’ll need to hide out here?”
“One sec, let me get my phone, and maybe we’ll be able to figure that out.” She fished it out of her pocket, tapped on it for a few moments, then handed it to Matt. He stared intently at the live streaming video.
“Is that my—?”
Thalia took the phone back. “Yes. That’s the forge.” She clicked the phone screen off, not wanting to watch the fire blazing at Matt’s forge. “They destroyed it for creating the angel-killers. I told you they’d come after you. I’m so sorry, Matt. I hope you grabbed everything you needed.”
He nodded slowly as the shock passed across his face. It told her he’d been smart enough to grab everything of value, but the whole place had been of value to him, and seeing it burn was probably more than he had expected.
“How did you know they were going to do that?” He glanced up at her, looking sick with grief. “How did you know they were going to come after me?”
She hoped he wasn’t getting paranoid. She’d already told him how she’d known, but apparently, the shock of it all had caused him to forget her words.
“I told you, the warriors who attacked the Yakuza were clumsy with your weapons, and the archangel, Ichiro, noticed how the blades burned him when he touched them. You’re the best blacksmith in New York City… of course they would be coming after you. I’m sure you weren’t the only blacksmith to suffer these consequences, though. They probably went after several of them just in case it was more than one of your profession developing these weapons. I feel bad for anyone else caught in the crossfire, but you’re the only one I could save.”
The only one she’d wanted to save. She looked away while making her way farther into the house.
When she finally glanced back at Matt, he remained pale, but color was already returning to his cheeks. He walked into the living room and slumped down into one of the chairs, staring at the flames with the suppressed bitterness of an old, jaded man.
“I’m sorry, Matt. I really am. But it’s better if we stay here for a little while, where it’s safe. No one knows I own it, not even Ereziel, who’s pretty much been my sponsor.”
“Do you always keep secrets from those who have helped you?” Matt asked.
His words stung. She knew he was wondering if he could trust her to be under the same roof as him. How could anyone be safe from an archangel? They seemed all-knowing, and yet there were often things which caught them off guard. She knew this better than anyone, for she had lived with one. She had loved one intensely and had been up close and personal. Maybe Matt didn’t need to know this to trust her, but as they sat and stared at the flames, she knew there was still some trust to be earned on both sides.
“It wasn’t intentional, but I had to keep myself safe. I have no way of knowing who killed my family—who killed me, when I was human. It could’ve been an archangel, an angel, or demons. Who knows? All I really know is that I’m trying to find my way back to Purgatory from where I might be able to pass through the gate to Heaven and be with my family again. That’s my only goal, and that’s why I made this sanctuary away from everything. Nobody can trace it back to me. In my line of work, you must have a backup plan. This is it.” She waved a hand around, wincing as a stab of pain hit her from her wound. Whatever had been on that blade wasn’t letting the cut heal correctly. She’d have to clean it, add some salve, and hope for the best.
&
nbsp; Matt glanced her way, looking calmer. He even followed her into the dining room when she suggested they get a bite of food before cleaning up. The food was already laid out, hot and ready, but growing colder by the second. The cooks and servants must have left it ready at Paul’s instructions and left the house right before they arrived.
“You have to make sure there’s nothing lodged in there,” Matt said. “You’re not looking so hot.” He picked up a turkey sandwich and began chewing.
She agreed, eating slowly, for breathing was difficult with the injury. It was probably the bruising which was the worst part. The bleeding had nearly stopped—it was only slightly seeping—but she was sure there was nothing lodged in the wound. It was far from mortal. She was lucky that she healed more quickly than humans, but it was nothing compared to the angels. They could heal themselves instantaneously, just as Ichiro had done with the angel-killing blade. Even though the spell on the blade could kill a regular angel, it had only burned Ichiro. By now, his wounds would be completely gone, as though nothing had ever happened.
She watched Matt as he finished his dinner. He offered to clean the plates off the table and took them to the sink to scrub them. He seemed to know full well there would be no housekeepers coming while they were there.
Matt returned and crossed into the living room. He grabbed one of his bags, came back with it, and plopped it onto the table. He pulled out a small, well-used, leather-bound journal and flipped it open.
He looked up and eyed her with concern, for she had barely moved for the past several minutes. “Hey, you want me to check the wound? Then you can shower and change. Your clothes are nearly ruined.”
She nodded and pointed to the bag of first aid supplies by the door. “I need to clean it then put some Esther salve in the wound.”
