by L. L. Wright
“I think you’re right,” Leo sighed. “I’ll do it tonight.”
“We’ll do it together,” Collin said before ending the call.
It was midnight when Leo stepped out of his car onto the familiar gravel that edged the West Creek cemetery. Collin walked up beside him and stood with his hands in the pockets of his black pants. They stared at the wrought iron gates for too long before Collin spoke.
“Let’s get this over with. The elders creep me out,” he said, leading the way. Leo matched his pace and side by side they walked to the mausoleum at the center of the cemetery. The descent into the crypt sent a shiver through Leo's spine, and when Collin stepped up to the statue of Michael, and ran his hand along the blade of the sword, dripping blood onto the floor he remembered why he hated this place. He stepped forward and performed the same blood ritual, and the wall behind the statue faded away. Only darkness was visible ahead.
The Faction used archangel blood to form the boundary, ensuring that only angelic blood could remove the seal and access the city of angels. While rogue angels roamed the earth, The Faction had been tasked with guarding the access points. But once the original fallen angels were snuffed out, and only demons and mortals walked freely, the guard had been deemed unnecessary. The statue wouldn’t accept impure blood.
The elders were already waiting when they crossed the boundary into the city and stepped into the hall of truth. Leo’s skin turned cold as the weight of the situation became real. The elders had the authority to save or condemn Emmie Clark, and he had never seen them or any other member of The Faction pardon a demon. She's not a demon, he told himself, she can't be, and whatever she is has to be the exception. He looked between the four angels and waited for someone to speak. Knowing how dangerous extra words could be in the one place where lying was impossible.
“Your request was quite vague,” Chamille said with a smile. She was easily the warmest of the elders, having spent years on earth amongst the humans. She had been a leader of the hunt before being sanctioned back to the city to take the place of a lost elder. Hailey, Leo thought, realizing that he hadn’t let himself speak her name, not even in his mind since his last trip across the boundary. The distraction of her memory was overwhelming and he felt a wave of relief when Collin began to speak.
“The situation is complicated, and we wanted to avoid confusion by discussing it in person,” Collin said, glancing at Leo, who was still standing silently.
“You have our undivided attention,” Chamille said, gesturing for Collin to begin.
He explained everything, starting at the beginning and sparing no detail. His story ended with Emmie disappearing into thin air on an otherwise empty jogging trail. Once Collin had finished, Chamille took a deep breath and looked at Leo, “You have spoken with the girl?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think? You’ve been a hunter for as long as there have been hunters, you must have some feeling on the matter,” she said.
“I’ve never encountered anything like this,” Leo said. He shook his head, lost for words. "It's like..."
"Go on," she urged.
"It’s like she’s nothing, and everything all at once. A human and an angel and a demon," he said, shaking his head at the absurdity of his own words. "It's impossible."
"Impossible things become possible every day. Have you learned nothing from your time amongst humans?" she said.
"Enough with the cryptic elder crap. You don’t seem surprised by this at all," Collin said suddenly. "Did you know this could happen?"
"Yes," Chamille said, bound by the angelic purity of the room.
"You have said enough," another elder snapped.
"These are our best hunters. If we can't trust them with the truth we will never survive this next threat," Chamille said, looking to the others for support before continuing. "There has been a storm building on the horizon for many years. We hoped that the threat was just a rumor spread by demons to give their ranks hope and purpose, but that doesn't seem to be the case."
"What threat? We haven't heard of any looming demon threat, and what does this have to do with the girl," Collin asked angrily. Leo placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping it would be reminder enough that the city of angels was not the place to lose your temper.
"The demons have moved underground to evade us, and while they've been rebuilding their numbers it is rumored that they have been experimenting with things that could tip the scales in their favor. Injecting angel and demon blood into humans, creating hybrids," Chamille said, her tone flat and diplomatic as she delivered the information.
"That's ridiculous. Where would weak sewer demons have gotten angel blood?" Collin scoffed.
"You can see why we dismissed the rumors," another elder said.
"Unfortunately, this girl is proof that the rumors are true," Chamille said. "We need to question her, she must be brought to us."
Leo's stood silently, his hand still resting on Collin’s shoulder. His thoughts were spinning and he struggled to make sense of what his mind was trying to tell him.
"Where did they get the angel blood," Leo asked quietly, repeating Collins unanswered and seemingly forgotten question.
Chamille closed her eyes and breathed deeply before she answered.
"There is only one angel unaccounted for."
Hailey.
"You told everyone she was dead. You said you felt her light flicker and then extinguish. Now you think she's being held by demons to create some kind of super demon? How could you have gotten it so wrong," Leo fumed, running his hand through his hair.
"We did feel her soul extinguish. Her light dimmed, and went dark."
"So then how do you explain this?"
"If Hailey is the source of their angel blood they either drained her blood when they killed her or they injected her with enough demon venom to extinguish her soul without poisoning her blood. I am sorry, Leo. She was one of us, and I wish things were different, but there is no scenario where she comes home and rejoins our ranks. Your Hailey is gone," Chamille said.
Leo stormed out of the chamber. The world around him was a blur until he crossed the boundary and returned to the mausoleum. He pounded his fist into the stone wall until his knuckles bled. Your Hailey is gone, he heard the words again in his mind as he sank to the floor, shaking. After all this time you would think that the pain would dull, but it never does.
16
Emmeline
Emmie strained against her heavy eyelids, finally pulling them open and looking around.
“Where am I,” she croaked. Her voice was dry and hoarse as she pushed herself up to sit and the room spun. She pressed her eyes shut against the pounding in her head and the nauseating movements of the room. I blacked out, she remembered. Her mind traveled back to the coffee shop and the dark jogging path, someone grabbed me but then I blacked out, she thought.
“Hello?” She coughed against the burning in her throat. Emmie stood up and looked around, she wasn't outside anymore. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she was still in West Creek. She turned, looking in every direction of the room, it is a room, right? What else would it be, she asked herself. Just breathe Emmie, just breathe, she told herself instinctively, realizing that this was just the sort of thing that could set off her anxiety, and magic. She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing, it was still slow and steady. She looked down at her hands, relieved by the absence of power. Shifting gears, Emmie took a closer look at her surroundings and immediately noticed that the strange room appeared to be carved out of stone. The walls were cold and rough, and bright white light poured in through the skylight above. The walls were solid, except for one stone archway that stood open, behind it was nothing but darkness. Emmie slowly walked toward the doorway, tilting her head and straining her eyes to see something, anything beyond the pitch black. Where am I, and how did I get here? Emmie wondered. She shuddered as she remembered the feeling of fingers grasping at the back of her arm, and the scream she never
heard leave her lips.
“Are you Emmeline?”
Emmie spun on her heels, startled by the sudden voice in a room that she was sure had been empty a moment ago. On the other side of the room stood a tall woman with perfect ebony skin and a long braid draped over one shoulder. She opened her mouth to ask the woman who she was, but an answer came out instead.
“Yes,” Emmie replied, unsure why.
The woman nodded and folded her hands at her waist.
“Where am I, and how did I get here,” Emmie asked, looking over her shoulder at the darkness that lay beyond the doorway.
“This is the hall of truth,” the woman said. “How about if you tell me how you got here.”
“I have no idea. I was on my way home, and someone was following me so I started to run, and when I felt a hand on my arm I screamed, but then everything went black. When I woke up I was here, just lying on the floor.” Emmie said, surprised again by the words that she spoke. “I just wanted to go home.”
“My name is Chamille,” the woman said, slowly crossing the room. “Do you feel different at all, Emmie,” she asked, her face marked with curiosity.
“Yes,” Emmie said, angrily. She was beginning to understand why unintentional words were slipping through her lips, the hall of truth, literally.
Chamille nodded her head thoughtfully, staring through intense brown eyes as she closed the distance between them.
“Do you want to know why that is?” she asked. Just a few feet separated them now.
Emmie clenched down on her back teeth and threw her head back.
“Ugh! Yes, I do,” she growled, unable to avoid the questions.
“The hall of truth can be frustrating. I can appreciate that, but you were brought here for a reason, and I think I’m beginning to understand why,” Chamille said.
“Do tell,” Emmie said, narrowing her eyes.
“The hall of truth is a pure place. It’s free of sin, and evil. Demons can’t cross the angelic boundary. Dozens have been incinerated trying. But you, Emmeline Clark, you didn’t cross the boundary, not technically. We could say you used the back door, which doesn’t actually exist, by the way. But using loopholes usually comes at a cost. In this case, the price was time. Many hours have passed since you left that path in Connecticut, and you will lose more when you leave this place. But because of your journey, instead of being incinerated by the boundary, your demon blood was simply checked at the door, like the baggage it is to you.”
Emmie took a step backward, bracing her hands on the sides of the stone archway. She shook her head and furrowed her brow involuntarily.
“Did you just say ‘demon blood’,” Emmie asked, her voice trembled slightly.
“Yes, do you believe in demons, Emmie?”
“No,” she said, flatly.
“Only the truth can be spoken in this hall. Known or not, a lie cannot be uttered within these walls,” Chamille explained.
“I can see that.”
“Emmie, do you have demon blood?”
Emmie opened her mouth to answer, but the words wouldn't come out. She swallowed and tried again, but there was only silence.
“I don’t understand,” Emmie whispered.
“You can't answer the question because your understanding doesn’t align with the truth. Your power comes from the demon blood running through your veins,” Chamille said. “But your humanity and your conscience and the pure heart beating within your chest. Those things come from the rest of you. From your human body and the angelic blood that also courses through you. I believe that is how you ended up here today.”
“What do you mean?”
“One of the first things you told me was that before you came here you wanted to go home. For the angelic part of you, this is home,” Chamille explained.
Emmie released her grip on the doorway, and slid to the floor, leaning her back against one side of the cold stone. She took a deep breath and noticed for the first time how clean and fresh the air was in the hall.
“How can I have angel blood and demon blood? How is any of this possible?” Emmie asked. She looked up into Chamille’s dark eyes searching for answers. “What am I?”
“I don't know,” she said, crouching beside Emmie and placing a hand on her shoulder. “But I would very much like to find out.”
“Is there a way to get rid of it? The demon blood.”
“I don’t know that either But if that’s what you want, we are your best chance.”
Emmie nodded her head, what other choice do I have, she thought, wiping a single tear from her eye before it had the chance to fall.
“What am I supposed to do now?”
“Go home, go back to school. I will speak with the other elders and we will come up with a plan.”
“So, you're really an angel? An actual angel,” Emmie asked, as her mind began to process and accept everything that had happened.
“Yes. The angels of The Faction are all around you,” she smiled.
Without warning the room around her began to shimmer and blur. She blinked, sure her mind was playing tricks on her, a result of shock and mental trauma. Through her eyes, It looked as though the room were slipping away, but Emmie felt as if she were the one sliding out of existence. She reached out for Chamille, but it was too late, her own hand shimmered in the light, passing right through. She tried to keep her focus as she reached for something to grab hold of, something to ground her, but she felt nothing, and all at once everything slipped away into darkness.
When Emmie opened her eyes again she was met with the familiar sage paint and dark cherry wood of the second-floor landing. She groaned quietly and rolled onto her side before she sat up, bracing herself against her bedroom door. I can definitely feel the difference, she thought, silently answering Chamille’s question for a second time. My body feels heavier. Sluggish and damaged. Have I always felt like this, or is this an effect from the magic or whatever just happened?
“What the hell,” Emmie whispered as she dropped her head in exhaustion.
“I was about to say the same thing,” a voice said from the staircase
Emmie jolted upright, relaxing when she realized it was only Lisa.
“What are you doing here?” Emmie asked, their argument still fresh in her mind.
“I don’t know. I went for a walk to clear my head and I ended up here. I was standing on the sidewalk when I saw a flash of light through the window. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”
“As you can see I’m perfectly fine,” Emmie said sarcastically.
“What happened,” Lisa asked, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands.
“I seem to remember you opting out of my drama, or have you forgotten that?”
“No, I remember,” she said quietly, continuing to fidget with her sleeves. Lisa took a deep breath and pulled her attention away from her hands. “I don’t know why I said those things,” she shrugged. “I’ve replayed it over and over in my mind. And I just don’t know where the words came from. I feel horrible, and I’m so sorry for everything I said. I swear I didn't mean any of it.”
“Yes you did,” Emmie said, resting her sore muscles against the door. “How could you not? For five years you’ve lived in this dark oppressive bubble with me out of a sense of loyalty. And then you finally met someone normal that you can go to parties with and don't have to worry about and take care of all the time. I can’t imagine what a relief that must be, and I’m happy for you. I really am.”
“No, Em, you’re completely wrong. I haven't stuck around because I’m a loyal friend who feels obligated to be here. I’m here because I want to be. Sure, you have powers that go a little crazy sometimes, but I have parents who are a little crazy all the time. They are constantly at each other's throats. The one and only thing they ever agree on is me needing to try harder, and be better. So while you’ve been thinking that I’m doing you a favor by sticking around through your magical meltdowns, in reality, you’re the one who h
as saved me from feeling completely inadequate. You always make me feel important and good enough, and that means the world to me. I really don’t know why I said those things, but I didn’t mean any of it and I’m really sorry,” Lisa said. She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her oversized sweatshirt, smearing the gray sleeve with mascara.
“Do you want to stay over,” Emmie asked. She barely had the energy to move from the spot she was in, but she could tell that Lisa needed her tonight.
“I didn’t bring a bag or anything, I won’t have clothes for school tomorrow.”
“It’s Saturday,” Emmie said, raising an eyebrow.
“No, it’s Sunday,” Lisa said, pulling the phone from her pocket and sliding it across the floor. Emmie grabbed the phone and looked at the top of the home screen. It’s eight o’clock on Sunday night. I was gone for almost an entire day. How is that possible? How is any of this possible? She heard Chamille’s voice in her head and remembered the warning that the price of her trip would be time, Twenty-four-hours. Emmie pulled her own phone out of her pocket as a panicked thought crossed her mind. Her fingers moved frantically across the screen, unlocking it and checking her missed calls and texts. Twelve missed calls and twenty-two texts. Mom must have been freaking out, Emmie thought momentarily until she opened the logs and saw that one text was from her mother and the rest were from Collin.
Mom: Something came up at the office, big trouble with a big client. All hands on deck until tomorrow night, I’ll be late. Call me if you need anything.
“It’s not a big deal, were basically the same size, I’ll just borrow clothes,” Lisa said, as she got up and pulled Emmie to her feet.
“I have to tell you something,” Emmie said as they walked into her bedroom and she closed the door behind her. She took a deep breath and began to tell Lisa everything that she could remember from the last twenty-four hours. When she had finished with the last detail, she and Lisa lay on their backs on the bed staring at the ceiling.