Revelation: Trinity Part 1

by Gemma Humphrey

  “You know what I mean, Elle,” Nate huffed.

  “No, Nathaniel, I don’t.” She drained her glass. “When the Guardian stopped playing by the rules I sent you in there to win the girl to our side. You were my siren, my irresistible lure… but it failed. Plan A, Somehow…” her brow creased in confusion, “Failed.”

  Nate switched Elle’s empty glass with his full one, knowing she was right. They sat in silence as Elle sipped, thinking.

  “You know more about the girl than anyone,” she said, softly. “I trust you when you say the May Ball is the best time and place to end this,” the sympathy in her eyes hardened as she shrugged. “But I have other weapons.”

  “You mean better weapons?” he shot back.

  “Don’t pout Nathaniel, its ugly.” She slid from her stool, and Nate knew the conversation was over.

  She paused in the doorway, “Not better,” she amended, “Better placed.” She shrugged as if that solved all his problems, and smiled. “Now come back upstairs so I can wipe that glum look off your face. I want you to see me in my Valentines outfit.”

  Nate sighed, stepping off the stool and walking to where Elle stood, knowing it would do no good to push the point. Not yet.

  “Good boy.” The edge to Elle’s smile slid into an entirely real smirk. She took his hand and began leading him away.

  “Oh, and did I say see?” She threw a devilish look over her shoulder. “I meant do.”

  In the pit of Nate’s stomach, as he allowed himself to be lead up the stairs, a newly familiar feeling arose; in the weeks he had been living with Elle, he had become very used to it.

  A feeling of hate, of loathing his body for its reaction, of abhorring the chemicals in his brain for their instinctive response.

  He despised himself, as they entered the bedroom, for throwing Elle onto the bed. Hated wishing her hard body was softer, that her forced laughs weren’t natural giggles.

  But he hated, most of all, that he glared into Elle’s eyes not with hunger, but with the need to prevent the image of another from entering his mind.

  ***

  Rose looked up from her studying to find Christian watching her from his spot beside her, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

  “What?” she asked, meeting his gaze. Ben and Ana looked up from the armchair near the fire, books and blankets strewn across their laps. Wind and rain clattered against the window, but the apartment was warm and cosy, the fire crackling merrily in the hearth.

  “Nothing,” Christian said, shaking his head, adding, “I was just thinking about your abilities,” at the look Rose shot him.

  Rose set down her highlighter. “What about them?” she prompted, as Ana untangled herself from Ben’s long legs and headed for the kitchen, filling the kettle with water from the tap.

  “Well,” Christian continued, “You seem to learn faster when you … experience things for yourself,” he began, deliberately not mentioning what they were now referring to as the ‘Nate incident’. “So I thought we should try to see if you can figure out anything new,” he grinned, “Through meditation.”

  Rose raised her eyebrows. “You’re not about to go all Bohemian free spirit on me are you?”

  “I just want you to sit quietly for a minute,” he said. “Humour me,” he added, with a grin. Ana returned with a tray of mugs, placing it on the coffee table.

  Rose shrugged. It was better than studying, at least. Shifting so she was upright and no longer touching Christian, she closed her eyes. She concentrated on her breathing.

  Reaching out with her mind, she felt her consciousness touch the glimmer of white that was Christian’s aura, recognising it easily from her attempts at thought projection. She reached out a little further until she found Ben, being careful not to intrude. Ana was close to him, as always, and Rose carefully settled around the feel of her mind.

  “Okay,” she kept her eyes closed, concentrating. “I can feel you all. Now what?”

  “Can you feel anything else?” Ben spoke up, his tone implying that he didn’t fancy being a test subject again.

  Rose smiled and Christian chuckled quietly at her side. She pushed her mind out further, searching for anything else that she might be able to work with, and found herself drawn to an energy almost directly in front of her.

  It didn’t feel alive, in the sense that it had no conscious thought, but it seemed to breathe, consuming and releasing energy in the process. She felt it flicker and writhe before she realised – the fire in the grate, burning up the last remaining piece of wood.

  She studied it for a moment, noting how effortless it was to sense the flames, how simple it felt to track the progress of a flare as it licked at the wood, leaving charcoal in its wake.

  Her eyes popped open as she had an idea. Ignoring the others, she moved closer to the fire, easily locating the small flare that had caught her attention as she kneeled in front of it. She focused on it, absentmindedly noting that the others had moved to join her.

  Reaching out again, she nudged the flame, watching in satisfaction as it sparked slightly, colours flickering. She tried it again with a little more force and it grew bright for a moment.

  “Can you do it the other way around?” Christian asked, fascinated, as he leaned against the mantle to watch.

  Rose concentrated, trying to figure out how to do it. She played around with it for a long while, pushing and pulling to influence it in different ways– eventually noticing it gutter as she pulled it in on itself.

  Once certain that she understood how it worked, she began to influence the whole fire, watching as it moved and writhed where she willed it. She was surprised to find that her strength rose up to meet her as she worked, coiling around her veins, purring in her ear. She pushed the flame further, causing it to ripple along the wood, left to right and back again – like a Mexican wave or the pulse of a heart monitor – before pushing it, hard, experimenting with the level of control she had.

  She watched in satisfaction as it flared out of the fire, causing the others to jump back in alarm. They chuckled behind her, as she continued to manipulate it to her will, before she sagged. The sudden headache that struck made her stop.

  “I think that might be enough for the day,” she said, mildly, her hand coming up to her forehead.

  Christian, feeling her discomfort, took her hand and pulled her back to the sofa, sitting down next to her. Rose leaned into him, feeling dizzy.

  “That was awesome,” Ben said, with a grin. “Terrifying of course, But still awesome.”

  Rose smiled as Ana handed her her tea. “How did it feel?” she asked.

  “Effortless,” Rose smiled despite the headache, sipping her tea. “Natural. Like I’d always been able to do it.”

  Christian looked thoughtful. “You only seem to struggle with influencing people,” he mused. “Perhaps that’s not what your power is intended for?” He looked to the fire as he considered it. “Fire is an element…” he murmured, staring at the flickering shadows created at the back of the grate. “I wonder –”

  “No.” Rose looked up sharply, hearing his tone. “I’m done for the day.” She sat forward, facing him with a mock-stern look. “So whatever it is you’re thinking, it will have to wait.”

  Christian smiled, holding his hands up in surrender, before pulling her back into his arms, where she settled with a weary, but satisfied sigh.

  22

  Rose sat in the deserted reading room, her pen twirling in front of her, dust motes whirling in the eddy of the stale library air that she controlled to make it spin. The final draft of her end of year paper sat on the desk, untouched.

  Since her success with the fire, Rose had discovered that she could, to a certain degree, play with the elements, and had been finding time to practice and hone these new skills despite the end of term looming. Unlike her previous attempts to wield her power, these ‘Elemental’ abilities were a far more natural outlet for it to manifest, and she had relished in the sense of achievement tha
t finally controlling her power had brought.

  “Whoa. Hello Hermione.” Ben paused as he rounded the corner of the library.

  Rose looked up, her pen dropping to the desk with a clatter.

  “Hi,” she greeted, as he pulled out the chair in front of her before sitting down.

  “Are you finished?” Ben asked, as Rose shuffled her papers out of the way.

  “Pretty much.” She smiled as she realised she was almost done with Paradise Lost.

  Ben reached out for it, skimming through. “You’ve written an argument for Eve’s innocence?”

  “Why not?” She shrugged as Ben looked up in question. “It’s something I can relate to: Eve is given a glimpse of an exciting new opportunity, and she has to decide whether to continue as she is, or eat the apple. What’s so wrong in my believing that she did it to fulfil her purpose?” Rose asked, smiling at Ben’s amused look. “Maybe she was meant to eat the apple for the greater good – even if she was betrayed by a poisonous snake.”

  Rose ignored the trickle of frustration that always followed whenever she thought of Nate. “As I said, I can relate.”

  Ben raised his eyebrows. “So I see.”

  Rose smiled at his expression as she turned back to her reading. Ben, who had pulled the script for Agamemnon out of his bag, settled in to read too – both comfortable in silence together. Eventually Ben looked up, turning his book upside down to keep his page.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  “What?” Rose looked up from correcting a spelling mistake on her print out.

  “I’m sorry,” he repeated. “For not dealing with… all that’s happened very well.” He shrugged. “You’ve been going through stuff. Epic stuff. And I’ve been afraid to talk to you about it.” He held her gaze. “So I’m sorry.”

  Rose reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’re good,” she said, easily. “This thing? – It’s mad. I can understand you being afraid of it. I am half the time.”

  “That’s just it,” Ben seemed determined to get this off his chest. “I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to be able to talk to me about anything. To rely on me –”

  “Stop,” Rose interrupted him, tugging on his hand. “You don’t need to explain.” She said, earnestly. “You never stopped being my best friend.”

  Ben squeezed her fingers. “So much has changed.” he sighed. “This time last year we were just two kids going to University. This year you’re a Demi-God with super powers who’s out to save the world – and I have a girlfriend.”

  Rose smiled. “Better get used to it. It’s only going to get weirder.” She frowned as she considered exactly how much weirder it could get – wondering, not for the first time, when anybody was going to make a move.

  “You’re worried,” Ben stated.

  Rose sighed, pushing her fringe out of her face. “Let’s not talk about that,” she said. “Let’s talk about you.”

  Ben raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

  “You, Ana, Agamemnon –” she nodded to the book lying on the table between them. “Anything but the fact that my life is one big drama.”

  “Your life has always been one big drama,” Ben grinned at the glare Rose shot him before picking up the book in front of him. “Did you know,” he asked, toying with the spine as he thought of things to talk about. “That Cambridge is celebrating its fortieth Triennial Greek play this year?”

  Rose smiled. “I did not.”

  Ben tapped the book in his hand. “This year they are staging Agamemnon.”

  “Ahh,” Rose nodded sagely as she understood. “You’re auditioning?”

  Ben looked up in consternation. “I auditioned months ago, Rose,” he admonished with an amused look in her direction. “I’m one of the Chorus,”

  “The Chorus?” Rose thought back to what she knew of Agamemnon. “As in the old guys who tell Agamemnon what to do?”

  Ben smiled at her description, “Something like that.”

  “Huh,” Rose huffed, realising how detached she’d been from the world around her. The idea that Ben had been included in that left her sad. What else had she’d missed? She wondered. When had she become so self-absorbed? “Now I guess it’s my turn to be sorry,” she said, knowing he’d understand that she didn’t just mean about the play.

  Ben’s face softened and he put the book down, reaching for her hand. “You’ve had a lot on your mind.” He nodded, and Rose could tell he’d accepted it a while ago. “Its fine,” he shrugged. “And anyway, we’ll be done with our first year in a few weeks. The Ball is coming up – not to mention Suicide Sunday.” He shot her a wink, attempting to lighten the sombre mood. “You should take a break. Party. Get drunk. Act like the average student you’re pretending to be.”

  “I’ll have you know,” Rose sniffed haughtily, hiding her smile. “That there was never anything average about me in the first place.”

  “You’re not wrong,” Ben sighed in feigned exasperation. “But, seriously,” he continued, “You’ve worked hard and got this far without anything terrible happening. Why not take some time to enjoy it?”

  Rose nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right,” she said, “We deserve a break.” She smiled, at the thought. “Okay, Cinderella,” she grinned wickedly at him, “We shall go to the ball!”

  ***

  Christian sat at his desk, toying with the corner of the paper he was marking, lost in thought. He was thinking of Rose’s face when she’d asked if he would like to go to the May Ball – and he had simply handed her two tickets that he’d purchased previously. He’d been intending to surprise her, but she’d beaten him to it – as usual, and he chuckled as he recalled her stunned expression, before she’d thrown herself at him in delight.

  “Something funny?” Roc’s voice drifted out of the air as he appeared beside him. “Do share.”

  Christian frowned, his good mood evaporating as he turned to regard the dark haired man. “Roc,” he greeted, not bothering to hide his irritation at the unexpected visit. “What can I do for you?”

  Roc smiled as he ran a gloved finger along the window ledge, checking for dust as he looked around the room. “I think perhaps what you should be asking is, what can I do for you?”

  Christian’s head snapped up. “You have news?”

  Roc nodded as he moved over to the sofa, fingers sinking into the leather. “Something is coming.”

  “We already know that,” Christian pointed out, standing up and turning to face him.

  “Soon,” Roc said, without looking over, “You need to be ready.”

  “How soon?” Christian asked, suddenly tense.

  Roc had moved over to the bookcase and made a great show of reading the spines. “Sooner than we were expecting.”

  Christian’s eyes narrowed as he realised Roc wasn’t being deliberately vague. “You don’t know,” he stated.

  Roc looked uncomfortable – something Christian had never seen before. “We are… lacking in some information, yes,” he said, begrudgingly.

  “So why are you here?” Christian asked. “If you don’t have anything new to tell me? Or are you here to help with my marking?”

  Roc turned to consider him, hands clasped behind his back. “Whoever is running this is keeping very quiet,” he admitted, eventually, “We’ve been lucky to pick up on what we have.”

  Christian leaned back against his desk. “What are you going to do about it?” he asked.

  “Do?” Roc said, in surprise, “Nothing.” He waved his hand in Christian’s direction as he turned back to the shelf he was perusing. “You can handle it I’m sure.”

  “So you’re not providing extra protection?” Christian was stunned, “At all? Does He have anything to say about the –”

  “If by He,” Roc interrupted, spinning around, eyes blazing despite his calm exterior. “You are referring to Our Father – your Lord and Master,” he glared pointedly. “Then He has not been informed.” Roc turned back to the bookcase, seemingly intent on readin
g every title, “We do not bother Him with such trivial matters.”

  “Trivial matters?” Christian growled, striding forward to confront him, “His Daughter on Earth being hunted by the Fallen is a trivial matter?”

  Roc stepped up to him, seeming to tower over The Guardian despite Christian’s height advantage. “That is not your concern.”

  “But –” Christian protested, arms tense at his sides.

  “Are you implying that you cannot protect her?” Roc’s dark smile was enough for Christian to remember his place and he took a step back, eyes lowered.

  “You know that’s not what –”

  “Do your job,” Roc stated, “And leave me to do mine.”

  “Roc,” Christian pleaded, his mouth set in a firm line.

  Roc exhaled from his nose, his shoulders dropping the tense stance he’d adopted at Christian’s outburst. “There is support in place for when the time comes,” he said quietly, his eyes fluttering in irritation. “Don’t think to rely on it,” he warned, as Christian looked up. “You are to protect her – first and foremost. No exceptions.” He glared, his eyes firm, “Do you understand?”

  Christian fought to keep his anger in check, knowing it would do no good. “Perfectly,” he muttered, through gritted teeth.

  “Good.” Roc smiled, coldly. “I shall see you soon, no doubt.” He blinked out of existence, leaving Christian alone once more.

  Christian took a calming breath as he focused on the importance of Roc’s visit. The Fallen had stepped up their game. It was only a matter of time before Rose would be put to the test.

  He sighed, sinking back into his chair as he tried to predict the next move. Nate’s disappearance had been ominous. Christian had no doubt that he would be somehow involved in whatever plot was afoot.

  Not for the first time, Christian contemplated taking Rose away. Of their hiding out in some remote place where he could be sure to keep her safe. It suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

  Rose would think him overprotective of course, she always did, but she would be safe and, as far as Christian was concerned, that was all that mattered. If she could just get through the last weeks of college, they could attend the Ball and hide out for the summer. He could even tell Rose it was a holiday. He smiled at the thought of a whole summer alone together, nodding thoughtfully as, drawing his laptop to him, he began to organise.