“Don’t even think about it! I am so going.”
“It’s not what you’re used to,” he replied.
I bit back a retort of “Well, duh.” I needed to state my case without turning it into a battle of wills. I’d point out that it was his idea to have me scouting the world for Neph in the first place. Now, faced with a dangerous situation, he wanted to become a protective dad and throw Kope to the wolves all by himself.
“Look.” I spoke calmly. “I’ll research the culture before I go. I’ll dress however the women there dress. Plus, Kope will be looking out for me.” I looked across at Kope and he nodded, deciding to finally speak up.
“Damascus is liberal, as far as Arab cities are concerned, is it not?” He faced my father, who cleared his throat, realizing he was losing ground.
“It’s a bubble of liberalism in a conservative country, yes. But there will still be scattered hard-core conservatives and radicals who frown on Westerners. Not everyone in the city approves of men and women mingling.” He closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.
Patti patted the table in front of her. “I know exactly how you feel, John. I’m scared for her, too. But . . .” She stopped long enough to let out a breath of reluctance before facing Dad again. “You know as well as I do that she can handle this.” He grunted. “She needs to be active, and it sounds like she might be able to help this girl in Syria.”
Dad exhaled a raspy sigh of defeat. I shared a victorious glance with Kope, sensing he was as excited as me.
“All right then,” Dad said. “I’ll arrange everything. You’ll leave five days from now. You’ll have forty-eight hours to convince her. I don’t want you guys there any longer than that. I know I’ve told you this before, but do not ever, under any circumstances, pass important information over the phone or internet. Only in person when you know the coast is clear. Don’t travel out of Damascus. I’ll have a watch kept on Sonellion while he travels, and if for any reason he heads home early, I’ll find a way to let you know so you can clear out immediately. I can’t guarantee you won’t see any whisperers, but if you do, try not to be spotted. How’s that ankle holster holding up?”
I lifted the right pant leg of my jeans to show him the Velcro strap and leather pouch holding the lightweight hilt. It stayed with me at all times now, even though wearing jeans in summer was hot as heck. I even wore it at parties. During showers it rested on the edge of the tub where I could see it. Demons wouldn’t be able to recognize it in its case.
“We know metal detectors and X-ray machines don’t trace it, but you can’t keep it on you in case they need to pat you down at the security checks.”
“I’ll find a way to hide it in my carry-on,” I told him.
“You’ve got your passports?” Dad asked. Kope and I both confirmed that we did. “Well, then. Looks like you’re both heading to Syria.”
I let out a squee and clapped my hands. Kope flashed a dimpled smile.
“Kopano has to fly home to Boston first thing in the morning,” Dad said to me, “but we’ve got the whole rest of the afternoon, so the two of you should probably hang out. Talk strategy. Maybe go catch a movie or something. I’ve got some things to take care of.”
Kope and I shared a surprised glance. Talking strategy and seeing a movie didn’t seem to go hand in hand in my book, but I wasn’t opposed to hanging out with Kope. There was only one problem.
“It’s Friday,” I told him. I didn’t need to clarify what that meant.
Dad crossed his arms over his chest.
“Most of the spirits will be in Japan tonight, which is why it’s safe for us to be here now. They’re having the eastern regional meeting, just like we have U.S. meetings every year. You two go have fun. Behave. Anna, you can drop him back at his hotel afterward.”
Kope and I looked at each other again. A night off with no threat of whisperers? Hanging out with one of my Neph friends? Heck, yeah.
Patti kissed my cheek and shook Kope’s hand good-bye. “Y’all have fun,” she said.
I grabbed my purse and we were out.
CHAPTER SIX
NON-DATE
It was not a date.
And yet, there was something very date-ish about walking into a movie theater with a guy, no matter how hard I fought against the idea. He’s your friend. Friends go to movies together. You and Jay used to go all the time.
Yes, but Jay never had a crush on me like Kope did once upon a time.
Well, I didn’t think about Kope like that. My head still spun from the encounter with Kaidan and my heart was way too fragile. Besides, I had bigger, more important things to think about than boys.
We stood at the ticket counter, looking up at the listings. He nixed the romantic comedy right away and I nixed the war film. We decided on an action-adventure and both reached for our wallets at the same time. He looked appalled when I snatched Dad’s credit card from my purse and slid it onto the counter before he could.
“This one’s on my dad,” I said. “You know, since it was his idea and all. I mean, not that I’m not glad to be here.” I cleared my throat and felt the skin on my chest warm with embarrassment at my big, dorky mouth. I took the tickets and Kope followed me.
“Let’s get popcorn first,” I said. “We can’t watch a movie without popcorn. It’s, like, a necessity, you know?”
He grinned and shrugged. “I did not know. This will be my first film.”
My jaw dangled open. “You’ve never been to the movies?” When he shook his head, I linked my arm through the crook of his elbow and pulled him toward the concession stand. “Come on, I need to school you.”
“Anna!”
Aw, crap. Three couples from school were walking toward us and I automatically sprang into party-girl mode.
“Oh, hey!” I said. I hugged each of them, eliciting smiles and laughter from the group, and even puffs of lusty auras from two of the guys. I was conscious of my lack of makeup and the fact that they kept slanting their eyes toward Kope. It wasn’t every day that a Cass High girl was seen out with a huge, gorgeous African man.
“This is my friend Kopano,” I said. He gave them all a nod and they stared. “Uh . . . he’s originally from Malawi. He goes to Harvard.”
“Wow,” said one girl.
“Awesome,” said one of the boyfriends.
More staring.
“So, what movie are y’all seeing?” I asked. I hoped we wouldn’t be in the same theater, and I was in luck. They were all seeing the romantic comedy.
“Well, have fun,” I told them. “Are you guys going to Ashley’s thing tomorrow?”
They glanced around at one another, unsure, and one girl asked, “Are you?”
“Yeah, you know I’ll be there,” I said with a smile.
They glanced around again, this time nodding their heads with sparks of orange excitement lighting up their auras. “Sure, we’ll go,” the girl said.
If there was one thing I’d learned in the past seven months it’s that popular people don’t need superhuman powers to make people bend to their will.
“Cool. See you then.” We walked away, followed by lingering stares.
I felt Kope looking at me, but I couldn’t meet his eyes just yet.
We got to the front of the line and I ordered a medium popcorn with a Cherry Coke for me and a Sprite for Kope since he didn’t do caffeine.
“Do you want butter on the popcorn?” the cashier asked.
“Yes,” I said, just as Kope answered, “No.”
We looked at each other and quickly spoke again, me saying no, and Kope saying yes. Then we both laughed and the cashier rolled her eyes.
“Aw, come on,” I said to Kope. “We have to have butter. I think you can handle a little fat.” And to prove my point I pinched his waist. My hands met the hard resistance of muscle, and his intense hazel gaze landed on me. My stupid face heated again. I pulled my hand away and switched my attention to the cashier. “Ju
st a little, please,” I told her.
Note to self: I could not innocently touch Kope like I could Jay. I’d hoped his feelings would have passed after all this time, especially since he knew how I felt about Kai, but based on that heated glance it seemed not. My heart dropped a little. I wanted to be able to be friends with him without worrying about leading him on.
I was glad to sit down in the dim theater minutes later with the popcorn between us. Kope was far more polite than me. I dug right in during previews while he took handfuls and munched quietly.
With his eyes on the screen he said, “You are very popular among your classmates.”
The popcorn suddenly tasted stale.
“Yeah.” I felt him angling toward me.
“I meant no judgment.”
He kept watching me like he felt bad.
I took a drink of soda to wash the saltiness of emotion from my mouth. “Look. The movie’s starting.”
His watchful gaze stayed on me a moment more.
The worst part about the encounter with my peers was that I didn’t have to mention the party. It had become second nature. And the way they bent so easily to my suggestions . . . it was satisfying in a way that made me crave guilt. I needed guilt. I needed for my angel side to rise up and balance my demon side so I wouldn’t skid out of control.
I tried to put all that from my mind.
During the movie I liked taking peeks at Kope as his eyes darted around the big screen and he laughed at the funny parts, the dimple softening his cheek.
I found myself wondering if Kaidan ever went to the movies. Did he take girls and sit in the very back where it was dark and private? I crossed my legs and arms, then glared at the screen. Sometimes an imagination was an impediment.
After the movie our moods seemed to unwind in the warm night air. I’d parked around the side of the building.
“What are you doing?” Kope asked. He motioned toward my hand clutching my purse, the other hand partially inside. It must’ve looked weird.
“Oh,” I said. “I didn’t even realize I was doing it. It’s part of my self-defense training.” I pulled out the hot pink pepper spray.
Kope gave me a half grin. “I am glad to see you are prepared to defend us.” He said it jokingly, like he didn’t really think I could.
I stopped in the middle of the lot and faced him. Nobody was around. I felt a little punchy after all the tension in the theater and the giant soda. I shouldn’t goad him, I knew better, but I so wanted us to be friends. And friends had fun.
“You don’t think I can fight, do you? Try to take me,” I dared him.
His dark eyebrows came together in surprise and he chuckled.
“We are in public.”
“So?” I said. “Nobody’s around.”
“The asphalt is rough. I do not want to hurt you.”
I put my hands on my hips and scoffed, “Whatever. You’re afraid of a girl. I see how it is.” I wouldn’t push him to play along if he didn’t want to. It had been a bad idea, anyway.
I reached into my purse for my keys so I could unlock the car. During that second of distraction Kope pounced. I yelped as he pinned my arms behind my back, hardly exerting any energy at all while I squirmed. The hold he had on me felt different from the ones my instructor used, so I was frantic for a moment as I tried to decide how to get away.
I went for the foot stomp. His pained grunt showed he hadn’t been expecting it, and he widened his stance to protect his feet. I threw my head back, but his face was turned to the side so I only caught the side of his jaw. He chuckled low at my failed attempts.
I leaned forward, using my hips to throw him off balance, and it worked. He sort of crashed into my back and had to drop his arms to steady himself, grasping my waist. I froze at the intimate contact and sound of his breath in my ear. Yikes. Playtime over.
It was at that inopportune moment that a male voice with a Southern twang rang out near us.
“Hey! Get your hands off her!”
Kopano’s hands flew out to his sides and he backed away. Two guys in their early twenties stood there with angry expressions. Kope eyed them evenly.
“It’s okay,” I told the guys, still breathing hard. “He’s . . . my friend.”
They narrowed their eyes as if searching for a trick.
“We were just playing around,” I assured them.
“Yes,” Kope said in his rich accent. “We enjoy wrestling.”
We enjoy wrestling? It was a bad time to laugh, but a tiny cackle escaped from the back of my throat and I bent over at the waist, unable to help myself. The guys’ eyes widened at Kope’s obvious foreignness and my sudden burst of laughter. I tried to talk, but only managed to babble and wave a hand around. The guys shook their heads like we were crazy.
“Whatever.” One of the guys waved us off with a flick of his wrist. “Freaks.”
They left us there and Kope let out a laugh of his own now.
I pointed to him and said, “Freak.”
“What did I say?” He put up his hands. “I was enjoying the wrestling.”
“Stop!” I sputtered and laughed harder. “You’re crazy. And I was seriously about to take you down before they showed up.”
“Maybe next time,” he said as he walked to the driver’s door and opened it for me.
Climbing in, I shook my head and he shut my door with an uncontrollable grin. I was still giggling after I dropped him at his hotel and headed home.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DAMASCUS
After a great deal of cultural research, Kope and I decided to act as if we were strangers on our trip, though we’d stay in the same hotel. Parts of Damascus might cater to tourists, but I planned to err on the side of caution.
As I waited outside the Damascus airport for Kope to get through customs, I reached up to make sure the hijab was staying in place around my head. Patti had purchased the pretty black head scarf with ivory flowers, and together we learned how to wrap it and tuck it into the collar of my shirt so that only my face showed.
I held my bag close, relieved that it’d made it through the customs search. I dared not travel without the hilt, which was currently nestled in the middle of a big bag of individually wrapped candies. We’d even taped candies all around it, and superglued the bag so it looked unopened. What a humiliating disguise for such a powerful artifact.
Like the Atlanta airport, this one was bustling with people—some wearing turbans and robes, others wearing chic, designer clothes. Auras were a mix of oranges and grays, a flourish of travel anxieties. The scent of spicy foods carried along the air combined with fuel exhaust. Unfamiliar Arabic writing hung on banners up and down the walkway.
Kope would be in charge of changing money for us the next morning. When I knew he was safely through customs, I hailed a cab.
We’d chosen a middle-of-the-road hotel near the old city, within walking distance of where Duke Sonellion and his daughter Zania lived. Once in my room, I dropped my bag and slumped deliriously on the bed. I took a moment to run my fingers over its plush red headboard and golden comforter before stretching my supernatural hearing to the other corner of the hotel where Kope had been sent. I knew he would be listening for me with his extended hearing as well.
“Kope?”
“I am here,” came the quiet rumble of his voice.
“What time should we leave in the morning?”
“Let us meet at nine thirty in the hotel courtyard.”
“Okay, I’ll see y—Oh crap!” I pressed a hand over my mouth and fell back on the bed, banging my head against the wooden edge of the headboard. A demon had soared into the room and now hovered in my face. A prick of fear stabbed my chest. The spirit was dark and eerie with frightening feline features. I kept my mouth shut and breathed hard through my nose.
Appearing too afraid could make me seem guilty, so I jutted out my chin and met his beady eyes. “What do you want?”
Staring at it, waiting for some sort of attack
or haunting message, I realized it looked familiar. All I could think was that we’d been caught before we’d even started the mission. The spirit’s mouth lifted at the corners, revealing pointy teeth, but if it was attempting a rabid snarl, something was off. This was more like . . . a really unpracticed smile. I recognized it now—Azael—an ally. I hadn’t seen it in six months.
“I will alert Belial that you have arrived safely.” Just as quickly as his scratchy message seeped into my mind, he was gone, flying swiftly through the wall into the heart of the hotel.
I shuddered. Couldn’t Dad somehow teach them to knock? Anything less jarring than dive-bombing toward my face unexpectedly.
I sat back up, remembering that the conversation with Kope had been severed during my momentary freak-out. When I nudged my senses around the space of his room and called to him, there was no response. I sent my hearing to the hall and found him outside my door. I leaped off the bed and let him in. His wide eyes made a quick inspection of the room before raking me up and down.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It was one of my father’s allies making sure we made it safely.”
“That is an ally of Belial?!” He pointed at the wall.
“You saw it?”
“I did. Did you not recognize it?” Kope asked with uncharacteristic awe in his voice.
“Not at first . . .” I touched a finger to the back of my head and winced.
We stared at each other, standing close, neither of us daring to say the demon’s name or title out loud: Lucifer’s personal messenger.
By all accounts, Azael was deeper in hell’s pocket than any other demon, and yet my father trusted him. Kope and I stood there a moment longer, joined in fear but also trusting that Dad knew what he was doing. He’d better, or we were all in trouble.
In a movement of slow affection, Kope lifted his hand to cup my shoulder. His palm was so hot that I almost flinched. He removed the hand and his brow tightened as he shuffled a step back.
“I am sorry,” he said, dropping his eyes.
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