by Lola StVil
“You seem like a nice kid, so I thought I’d warn you.”
“Kane said he killed Ella. Is that true?”
“Ella didn’t tell Kane, but she started researching and trying to figure out who his parents were. Kane was raised by various assholes. They found his powers useful and so they used him as much as they could. When he was old enough to take off, he did. He’s seen things I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Ella thought if he knew where he was from, maybe he’d find some peace. At least that’s what she said when she approached me about helping him find his parents. I told her to leave it alone.”
“I take it Ella didn’t listen?”
“No, she didn’t. She stumbled into information that she thought was important—important enough that she flew to meet with someone who said he could confirm her findings. They met in an abandoned church just outside of Rome. In a message she left on Kane’s voicemail, she said, ‘Holy crap, Kane, I know who your parents are and where you can find them. I just need to see the woman in red and have her confirm my suspicion. Then, I’ll tell you what I know. Kane…this news will change everything!’”
“What happened?” I ask.
“When Kane heard the message, he took off for Rome. He was furious with Ella. He never wanted anything to do with the family that gave him away. But he was also worried. In the Shadow world, it’s safer to assume the being in front of you is your enemy until they prove otherwise. You can’t trust anyone. Ella meeting with some ‘woman in red’ was a bad idea. She should have known better.”
“What happened when he got there?”
“The woman fled from the church just as Kane got there. Kane was about to take off after her, but he heard Ella cry out. He rushed in and found her on the floor, bleeding from her stomach. The woman in red had stabbed Ella with an Infinity Blade.”
“Wait, what’s that?”
“It’s a blade that drives you to madness once it cuts into you. It twists itself inside you in slow, deliberate torturous circles. It wraps your guts around its blade and keeps going for what seems like forever, hence the name. No one has ever survived an attack by an Infinity Blade. The torment is overwhelming; people just kill themselves to get it over with. Ella was in so much pain she was squirming on the floor, trying to crack her head open.
“She begged and begged for death from Kane but he couldn’t do it. He told her to hold on and that he’d get her help, but he knew she’d never make it. He picked her up off the floor and sat her down on a church bench. ‘Please, please. Mercy. Pleaaaaaaaase. Meeeeeeeercy!’ she cried out. Kane couldn’t let her suffer anymore. He snapped her neck and ended her torment. He then flew her back to Chicago and paid for a lavish burial.”
“Damn… How long ago was that?”
“Three months. He’s still missing that old lady. It’s obvious by his wings,” Pest says.
“What does that mean?”
“When grieving, wings turn gold, as do all powers. Once the initial grieving is over, they will return back to their normal color,” Pest says.
“So they’ve been gold for three months now?”
“Yeah, it hasn’t been an easy three months. That’s why he went to Sadie, so she could make him a kettle of Cactus tea. It’s a tonic made by a powerful witch that rids you of the feelings of loss and grief.”
“Does it work?” I ask.
“Normally, yes. But for some reason, it didn’t work on Kane.”
“But the fact that she made it for him means he owes her a favor, right?”
“Yes. And I take it getting you safely to the Alliance is the favor?”
“Yeah. Pest, did Kane ever find the woman in red?”
“No.”
“So that’s why he wants to have Sadie make a spell so he can see Ella again. To find out what she knew about his past and who killed her,” I say softly to myself.
“He was on an insane hunt for information—at first. Then, when he realized it wouldn’t bring her back, he started drinking Sum every day. In fact, he spends more time in the back room of dive bars than he does anywhere else.”
“I guess he blames himself,” I reply.
“People who are sensitive to Shadows and can see paranormal beings are often too afraid to say anything. That can be a good thing. That fear keeps them alive. But Ella was a ballsy woman; she dared enter the Shadow world. And in the end, it took away her life and, with it, the last drop of Kane’s humanity.”
***
Kane wakes up not long after his tonic is ready. Pest makes him drink it. He barks about how foul it is and thanks Pest for making it. Against his doctor’s orders, Kane gets up and makes his way to the living room. He’s a lot better. His color’s back and he’s no longer in pain. However, his gold wings are not all healed yet. When he flaps them, he winces. When he enters, he finds me on the sofa, looking over one of Pest’s books about the history of witches.
“You should be in bed,” I say as our eyes meet.
There goes yet another shiver down my spine. Damn it!
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
“Yeah, but I left the pouch that Sadie gave me.”
“You don’t need Kerr. I’ll make you dinner,” he says simply.
What?!
“Are you sure you’re up to it?”
“As long as I don’t try to fly as I dice, I should be fine,” he says as he heads to what I’m assuming will be the kitchen. He’s right. He seems much stronger now. We enter a small but well-kept room with a stainless steel island countertop along with two barstools. There’s a rack of various sized pans hanging above the counter.
“Should we ask Pest to join us?”
“Sorry, Princess, he went out to get some more oils to torture me with. He won’t be back for a while. You good with that?” he replies. I shrug my shoulder casually and pretend like the thought of the two of us being alone doesn’t affect me.
“Are you okay with a little spice?” he asks. I look at him, expecting his usual suggestive attitude, but he was seriously asking me.
“Yes, that’s fine,” I reply, not sure what to expect. I watch as he turns on the stove. The blue flames burst through the burners. He grabs a skillet from overhead and places it on a burner. He then starts gathering his ingredients from the double door refrigerator. He places them on the wooden cutting board on the counter, adds olive oil to the pan, and starts on the vegetables. He chops them up with perfect rhythm. He chops them quickly, skillfully, and with great ease.
“What are you making?”
“Ella’s favorite: jambalaya.”
“Where’d you learn how to cook?” I ask.
“She taught me.”
“Oh, I thought you two just played cards,” I reply. He looks over at me. That’s when I remember that I’m not supposed to know that.
“Sorry, Pest told me—don’t be mad at him. I forced it out of him,” I assure Kane.
“Yeah, I’m sure he took a lot of convincing,” he says dubiously as he continues to chop.
“So Ella also cooked with you?”
“One day I came over to her place, I was pissed off about something. I wanted to cut into something—badly—and she could sense it. So, without saying much of anything, she handed me a bowl of vegetables and said, ‘Dice.’ That was her: give orders without explanation. I guess she thought it would help me channel my rage.”
“Did it?” I wonder. He looks up at me and smiles a little. Then goes back to chopping.
“I wish I could help, but I suck at cooking. My mom said we shouldn’t feel bad about not being able to cook. She said ordering out all the time was our way of helping the economy.”
“So basically you are responsible for an entire nation?” he says, nodding his head.
“Basically, I’m Captain America,” I conclude proudly.
“Alright, ‘Captain,’ grab a knife and start dicing the tomato,” he says, signaling towards the drawer where the knives are kept. In the meantime, he places celery, onion, and green peppers i
nto the pan. When they hit the hot oil, a chorus of sizzling sounds can be heard throughout the kitchen.
“That smells amazing,” I announce as I select a knife from the drawer.
“In Cajun cooking, almost everything starts with the holy trinity: celery, onions, and green peppers,” he says.
“I thought Ella was from Chicago,” I reply.
“Yeah, but her family grew up in New Orleans. It wasn’t just Cajun, she loved all kinds of foods—usually the ones that were bad for her. I’d come inside and she’d have a cookbook open to a certain page. We’d cook silently and then head back to the table, play poker, and wait for the food,” he says with a hint of sadness in his voice.
“She sounds really kickass. I’m sorry she’s gone,” I reply. He looks straight ahead and his face darkens. He’s livid, but not with me. I think it’s mostly with the world. I don’t want him to dwell on his anger, so I try to move on.
“Okay, I’m ready,” I reply, standing before the plump, bright red tomatoes. I start chopping them and Kane watches. I’m too focused on trying to gather the bits of badly cut tomatoes to note that he’s moved towards me. By the time I do, he’s already behind me. He places his arms over mine and slowly starts to guide my hands. I feel him behind me; having our bodies touch makes me light-headed. I can feel goose bumps running down my arms. He places his large hands over mine and controls my movements.
“Grip the tomato but be gentle. You don’t want to bruise it. It’s very delicate and if you use too much force, you’ll tear through the skin.” he says as he guides me. When we’re done, he lingers behind me. I don’t know how to deal with the surge of longing that’s gripped me. I need to reach out to him, to grab hold of him and feel him against me. Instead, I reach out and latch on to the edge of the table. I don’t dare turn around to face him head on. I don’t know what I’d do if he were that close.
What is happening to me?
He studies the nape of my neck. He swears softly under his breath and he steps back. I exhale deeply, not even realizing that I was holding my breath the whole time. Once he is a safe distance away, I go around to where the barstools are and sit down, placing the stainless steel island counter between us. He continues to cook as I watch. When he’s done he places a bowl of the fragrant rice dish in front of me. He then grabs two bottles of beer and places them on the counter.
“It’s Sum. It’s beer to my body but for you, it will have no more effect than say, root beer, since you are human.”
“But I am starting to have Sadie’s powers,” I remind him.
“Yes, but your physical makeup is still that of a human being, so you should be fine,” he says. I take the bottle from him and say thank you. He sits on the stool next to mine and waits for me to taste the food. I pick up the spoon he placed alongside the bowl and dig in. It tastes divine. When I tell him that, he lights up.
Damn! This rice is so good, I can’t even be “ladylike” about it. “So, is this how you romanced that girl in the motel?” I ask as I chow down.
“Cree? No, I didn’t cook for her,” he says.
“But you do normally cook for girls, right? I mean, is this a routine?”
“Nothing is routine about this.”
“Yeah, you’re right—oh my goodness—taste this!” I reply as I scoop a spoonful of rice and place it into his mouth. He chews it and says he thinks she’d approve. When we’re done, we head up to the roof and look down on the city.
“I am trying not to think about it, but whoever Arken chooses to be the new Keysu, they could stop everything before the quest even starts,” I tell Kane as I look out at all the colorful homes below us.
“Arken is known for choosing the worst of the worst,” Kane says.
“What happens if I don’t finish the quest? I mean I know the world ends, but how? Will the army just kill us off one by one? Will they use fire and brimstone like in some religions I’ve heard about?”
“You can still walk away from this,” he says.
“I gave Sadie my word.”
“So what? This is your life. Even if by some miracle you got your hands on the first four items…what about the fifth one? You are willing to die for this quest?”
“If I don’t do this, I’ll die anyway, along with everyone else.”
“Maybe, but you won’t spend your final year on Earth getting chased by the worst of the worst. Atlas, you have no idea what’s coming for you.”
“You want me to say I’m scared? Well, I am. I’m fucking terrified. But I’d rather go down fighting. Can we stop talking about this now? I mean…I’d rather not think about it. You’re an angel, aren’t you supposed to bring cheer and merriment to all?”
“I think that’s what mall Santa’s are for. And speaking of angels—”
“Can I see your sword?” I ask.
“Wow, just like that? No foreplay?” he says.
“Why do you do that?” I ask.
“Do what?”
“Make everything about sex. Are you not getting enough?” I ask.
“Sex is usually the endgame,” he admits.
“It doesn’t have to be—at least not every time.”
“Really? What are my options?”
“You could stop being a ‘wall’ and start being more of a…bridge,” I confess.
“Bridges are a bad idea.”
“I guess it depends what’s on the other side,” I reply.
We lock eyes and find ourselves mesmerized and unable to pull away. He reaches out for me with one hand and stops just short of touching my face. The sharp disappointment that comes with him pulling back is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. It physically hurt to have him withdraw his hand. At this very moment, I need to feel his hand on my skin more than I need air in my lungs. He sees the disappointment on my face.
“Fuck it,” he says as he pulls me into his arms. Our lips are inches apart when a stream of electric volts land right in Kane’s chest. The charge sends him flying into the air and crashing to the ground. I look up to the sky to see who is firing at us. There are six angels hovering in the air, ready to attack.
“What the hell did you do that for? You could have killed him,” I shout as I race to check on Kane. The team of angels land on the rooftop. Kane is already up and has his sword out. The guy I met in the kitchen is gone. He’s now the brutal, stone-cold killer I encountered in the forest.
The first angel to speak has intense gray eyes that remind me of stormy skies looming over gray shorelines: wave after wave of nearly colorless tides rolling in. Yet they don’t make me feel sad or hopeless; instead the warmth and fierceness of his focused stare makes me feel deep, profound tranquility. At least it would if we weren’t under attack.
“You need to step away from Kane, right now,” he orders.
“What? No. I don’t even know who you are.”
“Atlas, I’m Mason Mills, leader of the Maitoe.”
“Okay, Mason Mills, why are you shooting at another angel?” I counter.
“Trust me, he’s no angel,” Mason replies as he glares at Kane.
“Are you saying Kane is a demon?” I ask.
“No. He’s not ‘a’ demon. He’s the demon,” Mason says.
“What are you talking about?” I reply.
“Atlas, Kane is the new Keysu.”
I feel hot and cold at the same time. Once again the world has been put on mute and made to stand still. There’s a huge lump in my throat, trying to prevent me from asking the question I need to ask. I turn to Kane and look him in the eyes. The eyes that were so captivating, they paused my world only hours before.
“Is it true? Are you the Keysu?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Did you know that when we met?”
“Yes,” he replies as he steps towards me; I back away. Mason takes out his sword. It’s beaming white with symbols engraved on it. He places it at Kane’s throat. Kane isn’t focused on the impending death before him; he doesn’t even look at Mason
. All his attention is on me. Our eyes are locked on each other’s, but not like the other times. We’re not held in place by wonder and fascination; instead it’s confusion, anger, and betrayal. Kane goes to take another step towards me.
“I will take your head off, right now,” Mason promises venomously. Kane turns his attention to Mason for the first time.
“I seriously doubt that,” Kane counters, showing no fear. The two rivals glare at each other. The air is thick with tension and hostility.
“We can’t do this here. The sun is almost up. There will be humans everywhere,” one of the angels says. Mason turns his attention to me.
“You need to come with us. Now,” he demands. I don’t move. I just keep looking at Kane while the anger and bitterness bubbles up inside me.
One of the angels comes towards me. Her skin is so black, it’s almost blue. She’s absolutely radiant. I think Orah took whatever he had left over from making “nightfall,” and made her. Her long hair is up in a carefree, windswept ponytail that swings behind her. She has big bright brown eyes and high cheekbones, and she accents her full lips with a hint of shimmering rose-colored gloss. Her long elegant neck and slender frame enhance her beauty.
“Atlas, I’m Saudia Reed. I know this is really confusing and you have a million questions, but right now, you need to come with us,” she says gently. I nod and then look over at Kane one last time. The Maitoe angels take me into the air. I look back down and Kane gets smaller and smaller until he fades completely.
***
We land on Gold Street, in downtown Brooklyn. We’re only a few blocks from the bookstore. I know this street very well. I daydreamed about being able to afford the property on the corner someday. It’s a factory that’s been converted into a three-story loft. When we enter, I’m instantly taken by its rustic charm and open floor plan.
The loft has high ceilings, exposed red brick walls, dark hardwood floors, and large panel windows that look out onto the East River. The black metal spiral staircase and oversized comfy furniture make the space feel cozy despite its large size. The color palette consists of rich red, browns, and hints of gold. In the center of the living room is a large heavy wooden trunk that serves as a coffee table. The living room also sports a fireplace and chandelier. It’s as if someone designed it right out of my dreams.