by A. Catherine
She could already spot Jared, Polly and a few other Reapers and Thrones flying to them from the shore.
“Isn’t that what the insubordinates are for?” Uriel mocked.
Azrael glared at Uriel’s still amused demeanor.
“Can you at least attempt to show some respect? This isn’t a game, or entertainment.”
Uriel rolled her eyes, waving her off. “Whatever, Azrael. Send me a message when you’re ready to talk business.”
Without giving Azrael a chance to stop her, Uriel soared upwards and then was gone in a wink of flashing light. Typical of her to leave when the fun ended, heaven forbid she actually help with the aftermath. Uriel could be a spoiled thorn in her side sometimes.
Azrael pinched the bridge of her nose, taking in a deep sigh. Not all of the archangels could be perfect, she supposed. In fact, none of them were. But Uriel was just annoying.
TWENTY-ONE
Heather
I WAS OUT FOR ALMOST TWO DAYS.
The last memory I had was of Daevas and I venturing into my family garden. And then he was gone, and I was living my memories out like dreams . It didn’t feel like two days, but when I awoke it was clear that I had missed out on a lot.
I was on the lower floor of the warehouse, watching from a bench as Iaoel and Seere sparred in the center of the blue training section.
They told me about everything that had happened since my memory walk with Daevas. Gabriel’s outburst, the information they learned about so-called relics that might be behind Mason’s death, and the release of the primordials.
And then there was the little bit of information that I might be half-angel.
“A Nephilim?” I asked.
Seere chuckled as she ducked and weaved around Iaoel until she was behind them. Iaoel pivoted to block the new swing sent their way.
“No matter how many times you say it, you always sound just as shocked as the first time, chickpea.”
Chickpea. Seere’s new nickname for me. I’m sure it won’t be the last one I receive.
“You can hardly blame her.” Iaoel stated as their blades clashed together in a loud ring.
Both of them were small in stature, but clearly that had no effect on their combat skills.
Seere wasn’t even breaking a sweat.
“Sure, but at this point if we tell her she’s actually a squirrel it wouldn’t be any different,” she teased.
I tried to not take that as an insult.
I don’t know how, but today I felt less overwhelmed by everything. I woke up feeling more comfortable in my own skin, and the butterflies in my stomach no longer bother me when I was around the angels and demons.
Maybe after so much shock, I just started to be numb.
Iaoel continued to keep Seere’s blade from moving an inch, but Seere had other plans. Before Iaoel could react Seere’s fist connected with their nose and they quickly retreated back. Not one for playing fair, I guess.
Seere didn’t miss a beat before retracting another blade, one that looked like an eastern scimitar. How many weapons did she have on her?
She kicked off her feet and immediately began running towards the shocked Iaoel. And when Iaoel saw her coming they bent to prepare, but Seere leapt over them, spinning her body mid-air.
Iaoel didn’t have enough time to react until Seere’s feet were once again on the ground behind her, and both her blades were poised against her throat.
Iaoel chuckled. “I see your reputation held no falsehoods,” they said.
Seere smirked and retreated her blades back into their sheaths.
“You should see me when I’m actually trying,” she joked.
It was a decent distraction to watch them spar. The demons and angels were faster than humans, so catching any small glimpse at their combat strategies was as exciting as watching a sporting match.
It helped ease the impending consternation that prickled my skin when thinking about what ran through my veins.
Iaoel grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from their brow.
“So, if I’m half-angel, does that mean I have abilities, like…powers?” I asked warily.
What would it be like to have the power to summon light like Gabriel? Or even fire like Kale? To alter emotions and memories like Daevas? I didn’t even know fully what the others could do, if any potential power I had would match them.
If I did…would I even want that?
“Your angel parent was a Nymph, with an affinity for nature and basic magic. It’s unlikely that the diluted version of their power would be significant. More likely than not you may have acquired the ability to perform magic, maybe even use runes and sigils,” Iaoel explained.
Seere looked like she was ready to go again, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.
“But the only evidence we’ve seen that suggests that you have any angelic grace is that you understand our languages. Your grace also might have been why you saw Mason die, the Guardian bond would’ve been amplified by it,” they concluded.
Angel grace.
Iaoel had explained it to me earlier. An essential piece of the almighty’s soul that fueled angel power. The only way I could comprehend it was to visualize it mentally. I imagined it like a silver fluid that mixed with regular blood.
I wondered if it were possibly to actually see it outside of the body.
I watched Seere and Iaoel reset the sparring ring back to normal. Seere’s aura never appeared to me like it did with Gabriel and Kale.
The only hints I got that she wasn’t human was the unnatural stillness, the predatory gaze she sometimes gave me, and the ever so subtle smell of burnt rubber that trailed from her when she walked by.
I sighed. “I guess I was hoping for something with a little more umph.”
I rested my cheek on my fist, casually browsing through my journal for the fourteenth time.
Seere twirled a long sword around her limbs as if it couldn’t touch her.
“We can’t always be that lucky.” She observed me, and probably saw the helplessness there.
I was half-angel and all I had to show for it was being a language translator. How pathetic. Especially with creatures like the vetala running around.
She pointed at me with her blade. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m practically as powerless as you, and I still get by just fine.”
I huffed. “Yeah, you still have quite a few advantages I think. A demon is a lot better off than a weak human.”
“You are your only weakness,” she stated, even Iaoel glanced at her at that. “If you want, I can teach you a few defenses.”
Iaoel stiffened and spun so fast their head might have fallen off. “That. Is not a good idea.”
“Why not? She’s already been attacked more than once, that happening again is inevitable, it wouldn’t kill her to know a few moves that will at least give her a chance,” Seere explained.
Iaoel rubbed their temples. “Even so, she still has human reflexes that will slow her down. If anything, she’ll just keep her opponent entertained as they tear her to pieces. You’d be teaching a mouse how to fight off a bobcat.”
“That doesn’t matter. An advantage, no matter how small, can mean the difference between life and death. Even against the supernatural. Besides, she is only half-human, her odds are already better.”
Seere looked at me with a wolfish grin on her face.
“What do you say?”
I gulped.
Having at least some things under my belt couldn’t hurt, I supposed. But after watching the two of them tussle, maybe Iaoel was right.
“Um, I guess.” I conceded.
Seere flicked the blade upwards motioning me to stand. I put my journal on the concrete floor and dusted off my pants.
I was wearing jeans and a blouse. Not exactly fighting attire. I gestured to my clothing.
“Should I change?” I asked.
Seere waved me off, putting the large blade down so that her hands were completely fr
ee. She walked onto the sparring pads.
“Your attacker isn’t going to wait for you to change. You should learn how to fight in any article of clothing, even nude if you must. If you want to keep going after this, we’ll spend a day in gowns so you can learn to fight like that.”
“Charming,” I grunted as I walked slowly onto the sparring pads.
“She’s right. It’s one thing to prepare for a fight, it’s another to have no choice in the time or place,” Iaoel chimed.
They sat cross-legged on the edge of the sparring ring, perching their face on their wrapped fists.
I looked at Seere, who looked like she was in her element. The wild grin on her face was unnerving, and the churning in my stomach began to make me regret this decision already. She tilted her head to the side, scanning my posture.
“First thing to know is you need to stay grounded, losing your footing in a fight is the quickest way to lose. Spread your feet and bend your knees. Good. Now it is important to take in as much information about your opponent as possible in split seconds. Note the sides they lean most of their body weight in, look for any potential weak spots.”
She began walking towards me and I stiffened.
“Relax, I’m just going to point some out.”
She put a hand on the small of my back and pushed. I adjusted my posture, and she released when I reached her approval.
“You won’t likely be able to out-fight your opponent, you’ll need a lot more training to do that. So for now, you should be thinking about ways to disable your opponent long enough to run away. Aim for high-nerve areas that will slow them down. These can change depending on your position. For example…”
Her foot hooked underneath my ankle and in one swoop I was on my back. She stood over me and lifted her feet to point out her ankles.
“If you’re down, and you have a blade go for the Achilles heel. Supernaturals will be able to heal, but an injury like that will slow them down enough for you to get away. As soon as you do that, roll and bolt away from them as fast as you can so they can’t grab you,” she explained.
I noted it and nodded. I sat up and she put out her hand to stop me from rising all the way.
“If you don’t have a blade, or if you’re tied up, use their balance against them. Throw them off, shove between their legs or kick the back of their knees. If you have to, as they bend over to catch their balance, shove your fists or even your head upwards with all the force you can muster to break their nose.”
“It’ll hurt, but you’ll live, and it could give you the time you need,” Iaoel added. “You’d rather break a bone than end up dead.”
I nodded. Seere reached down and gripped my hand—lifting me till I stood with no effort.
“Soft spots, an easy way to remember them is by using what I call FAST KING. Fast—F is fingers, A is ankles, S is solar plexus,” she tapped the spot just at my stomach. “T for throat. King—K is knees, I for eyes, N for nose, and G for groin. Got it?” she asked.
“Fast King. Fingers, ankles, stomach, throat. Knees, eyes, nose, and groin. Got it.” I repeated.
“Good. Retain that and you just might survive,” she teased.
I recited it in my head over and over. This certainly wasn’t knowledge I ever thought to learn, but my always-eager mind slurped it up like fine wine.
“Now if you’re standing and your assailant has a hold of you, and you’re facing them, gouge out their eyes. Don’t be afraid to inflict as much damage as possible. If they let you go, don’t be shy and jab them in the nose with this.”
She lifted my hand and pointed out the area at the connecting point of my wrist and palm.
“Humans in the military learn to do this to kill their assailant, in a supernaturals case, you’ll be lucky to break their nose. But a quick and hard jab to the throat will also incapacitate them. If after all that they still have a hand on you, a hard knee to the balls will do the trick.”
She recited all this information and it was truly fascinating how natural it all seemed to her.
Remind me to take a self-defense class when I return to normal humanity. I thought to myself.
“If they’re holding you from behind, use your heel to step on their toes, elbow to jab their stomach, and the back of your head to break the nose. Do all of them immediately after the other, don’t stop hitting and jabbing until they lose their grip on you,” she instructed.
Seere turned me around and wrapped her arms around me to trap me.
“Okay, now get out of my grip.”
“Wait, what? Like, right now? Full force?” I asked.
“How else will you actually learn?” she asked, as if it was obvious.
I noted the way her hand gripped my wrist and her arm tightened around my torso.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
She laughed and my face filled with heat.
I guess it would be silly for a human to care whether they hurt a demon or not. Even Iaoel appeared to grin with mild amusement.
“Trust me, chickpea. I’ve been hurt far worse, this will be the equivalent of a paper cut for me.”
Geez…makes me wonder what sort of hell she went through growing up.
Hell, that’s what, stupid. My inner monologue joked.
I sighed and readied myself to jab her.
“Remember,” she said, “—fast and unexpected. Preparation is your enemy in this case.”
I nodded and then stomped my heel down, but it only met concrete. I then tried to jab my elbow backward, but it met open air.
Shit.
“Nice try. A for effort. Don’t anticipate your moves, or at least don’t make it obvious, otherwise they’ll see it coming a mile away. If you’re taking a breath just before a blow, they’ll know it. If you’re choosing to do something, don’t think about it long enough for them to anticipate it. Just act,” she stated.
Seere released me and spun me to face her. She grounded herself and then gripped both my wrists.
“Get out of my grip,” she instructed.
I only had a split second to think about my strategy. I shoved all my energy into shoving my hands downwards, but her grip held and when I shoved them back into the air her hands went up with them, still holding.
“Nice. But you gotta—”
I didn’t give her a chance to continue before I hooked a foot around her ankle then kicked.
It threw her off, but I didn’t think about the direction it would go. Instead of her falling back and losing her grip on my hands, instead she dragged me down with her.
She landed on her ass and I fell on top of her. She quickly spun us, never loosening her grip on my wrists, and then she was on top of me, straddling me.
Her legs hooked backwards and pinned mine down, and then she crossed my hands until they formed a cage across my chest, pinned to the concrete on either side of my head. She was laughing, and I was panting.
Well, so much for that.
“Excellent! You threw off my balance, I’d call that progress. But you didn’t think about your own. A lesser fighter might’ve fallen for it enough to give you another opportunity to break free,” she explained above me.
From this angle I could see all the many tattoos that covered her neck, the side of her head and trailing down her arms. They were different from Daevas’.
His were of tentacles, snake heads and fire. Seere’s were barbed wire, bones and words, demonic languages written in every crevice.
I could also see the scars. Some rippled and bubbled from burns, some were sharp cuts from blades. Others were jagged and deep. Her piercings and tattoos covered them from a distant eye, but up close they were stark against her skin. I couldn’t even imagine the amount of blood loss she suffered. Underneath them though, there were freckles and beauty marks.
Seere was already a beautiful being in a unique way. Without those scars—she might have rivaled the angels.
Seere noticed me staring and her brown eyes flickered an ash gray color. “I d
id say I’ve been through worse, didn’t I?” she asked quietly.
“How much worse?” I countered.
Her eyes were lethal, but something else lingered there, a speck of suffering that I didn’t understand.
She didn’t answer, that told me enough.
Her eyes glanced sideways, distantly and then she was lifting off me. She extended a hand to help me up and I took it. Iaoel was watching us closely, but no worry was written on their face, only keen observation.