by Megan Linski
Cairo swallows. “You mean he won’t succeed?”
Christopher swirls the wine around in his glass… it’s really starting to annoy me. “Ultimately? He will fail. But the question is…” Christopher sips his wine again… “How many lives will he destroy before the Almighty considers it time to remove him? That answer falls on mortals. And your kind.”
Cairo puts his glass down on the bar. “Help us, then. Stop Roman from taking more lives than necessary. Help us bring him to an end before God has to intervene.”
Christopher shakes his head slowly. “I cannot help you defeat Roman. It is not my place, nor my duty.”
He pauses. “Though… there is something that can.”
Christopher finally puts his glass down. A good thing, too, because I was going to snatch it out of his hands and break it.
“I trust you have a copy of this?” From underneath the bar, Christopher pulls out a thick, leather-bound book. I recognize it as the same tome I stole from Cairo back in high school that I used to figure out what he and Thames were. We lost it when the bunker went up in smoke.
“The Book of Nephilim,” Cairo breathes. “Yes.”
“It is actually part of a much longer work called the Angelic Codex,” Christopher informs him. He presses the book into Cairo’s hands and states, “The Angelic Codex was composed by Biblical authors from the Church long ago. It was a guide— everything they knew about angels and demons, and how to kill them.”
I can tell Thames is dying to say something. I step on his foot, to keep him quiet. He glares at me, but I jerk my head toward Christopher and insist he listen.
“The angels wouldn’t allow such a thing to exist,” Cairo says. “They’d destroy it.”
Christopher nods. “Correct. And so, centuries ago, that was our mission. We attempted to burn the Codex, but magic had been put upon it, preventing its demise by angelic kind. And so, each of the angels took a certain page of the Codex and hid it around the world, so neither humanity, nor demons, nor Nephilim, would ever be able to find it.”
Christopher stares forward with that passionless expression of his. “The page that was assigned to me was the one that had instructions on how to destroy angels.”
“Do you have it?” Cairo takes a step closer. “If you do, it changes everything.”
“The page of the Angelic Codex I took is hidden in an ancient Mesopotamian temple outside Jerusalem,” Christopher tells him. “Called the Temple of Infinite Wonders.”
“I know that place!” Lena outbursts, and I cringe. “Athias talked about it in my Ancient History class!”
“Yes.” Christopher doesn’t seem amused— he doesn’t even look at her. “It is deep within the crypts there, though getting to it will be difficult. The temple has a guardian, hidden inside.”
“Will you go with us to help obtain the page?” Cairo asks hopefully. Seeing that gleam in his eyes, that prayer… it hurts.
Christopher shakes his head. “I will not. I belong here, with the angels.”
It’s like Christopher took a bat and started beating Cairo with it. The expression on Cairo’s face… god, I want to kill this dick.
“Can’t you just tell us how to kill Roman? You had the instructions,” Thames snaps. I can’t blame Thames for reacting. Christopher is hurting his brother.
“You have no right to speak here, demon,” Christopher warns. His wings appear again, beating in a threatening way. “You’re very fortunate that I allow you to stand here on holy ground. If you shared no blood with my son, your life would be mine.”
“Answer the question,” Lena snarls. Great— now she’s starting to lose her cool. “I’m a Nephilim. You must answer me.”
Christopher curls his nose at her before replying, “I was forbidden to look at the page. So I did not.”
Of course. He’s an angel… no free will to do so. He’s forced to follow orders.
“That isn’t anything to go on,” Lena replies, irritated.
“You’re lucky that I told you where to locate the only piece of information left on earth that tells you how to destroy our kind,” Christopher says sharply.
Cairo tucks the book under his arm. He seems calm still. Amazingly. “Before I leave, just answer me one question,” Cairo says.
Christopher purses his lips. “Anything.”
Cairo licks his lips. “Why didn’t you stay?”
The words hover in the air. Everyone in the room is affected by them… except his father.
“I made a mistake,” Christopher says. “I committed a sin, and repented for it. I never should’ve been with your mother. It was a temporary lapse of judgement, and I did not wish to make my ledger blacker by raising you, a child birthed out of wedlock, in a union that goes against nature.”
Cairo holds his breath.
Christopher’s final words are harsh, and cruel, though I doubt he perceives them that way. “Your conception was an accident that should’ve never taken place. That is the honest truth.”
It’s like… glass shattering. And the fragments are what Christopher is using to cut his son to pieces.
Cairo told me after we met my dad that watching him torment me that day was the most painful thing he’d ever gone through. At first, I didn’t understand. Now I do. I would give anything to stop the rampant destruction Christopher is wreaking inside Cairo right now.
From the moment I met him, Cairo has considered himself an abomination… a freak… a sin. I’ve spent years trying to convince him otherwise. Now this jerk has undone everything and made it ten times worse. His own father thinks he’s a mistake.
If I knew it wouldn’t hurt Cairo, this guy would be in pieces underneath my spear right now.
“No.” Thames pulls away from Lena, and strides toward his brother. “Fuck no. Screw this guy, Cairo. You aren’t a mistake.”
Thames grabs his brother’s arm, but Cairo’s not listening. He’s staring at the floor like he wishes he could melt into a puddle onto it.
Thames is two seconds away from firing up. Alexander captured me, tortured me, nearly killed me… but at least Thames’ dad admitted he loved, and still loved, Clara. Christopher won’t even admit there were feelings at all.
Christopher looks my way. He raises an eyebrow and says to Christopher, “Is this your mate?”
I don’t know how angels refer to significant others, but apparently Cairo does. “Yes,” he says. “She is.”
“Then you’d better start planning her funeral,” Christopher replies. “She has a matter of days, now.”
The book drops out of Cairo’s hands and slams onto the ground. He lunges forward, grabbing Christopher by the edges of his suit. His self-control is completely gone.
“What?” he hisses. “What did you say?”
“She’s been bitten by a Jikininki. I can smell it on her.” Christopher is not affected by his son’s outburst. He doesn’t even spill his wine. “Jikininki venom is poisonous to a half-mortal. If you do not find an antidote, she will die.”
My mind, so muddled for the past two days, clears. The thick poison in my stomach. That’s what it is. The Jikininki venom.
I’m dying.
“How do we save her?” Cairo lifts his father into the air, shouting. “How!?”
“I do not know. The answer may lie with another immortal. But hurry.” For the first time, Christopher glances at me. “You don’t have much time.”
This asshole is talking about my death like I’m not even here! Cairo, for the first time in all the years I’ve known him, loses his temper. He tosses Christopher into the air and launches him into the bar.
Wine flasks and glasses shatter. Cairo turns his back on his brother. He extends both of his hands for us to take.
Thames quickly snatches the Book of Nephilim that Cairo dropped. All of us grab onto Cairo without another word. The whirling around us is quicker, like a tornado. We appear back in our cottage quickly, the scent of the sea still hanging on our clothes.
Cair
o collapses onto the couch. He bends over, head between his knees, and puts two hands over his ears. He starts rocking back and forth.
It looks like he’s about to start screaming.
“Lena, come on,” Thames says, taking her arm. “He needs space.”
“But—”
“Lena, now,” Thames growls. He drags Lena to the door and slams it behind him. I lock it, and Cairo and I are left alone… or rather, I’m left to pick up the pieces.
Cairo starts crying. It’s not sobbing… Cairo doesn’t cry much… but it’s a few gentle tears. I ignore the foggy feeling in my head and run to the couch. I sit beside him and wrap my arms around his body.
“I knew not to expect much,” he says. His voice is riddled with hurt, pins and needles. “Angels don’t think like us, their emotions are different…”
“Ssh,” I say. I rub his back in circles calmly. “He just doesn’t understand. He doesn’t have the capability to.”
Cairo’s body shudders beneath my fingertips. I let him cry for a minute, because really, there’s nothing I can say that will make this better. Tears are the only thing that’ll get Christopher’s crappy words out of Cairo’s system.
The worst part about the whole thing is that Christopher isn’t even a bad guy. It’s just… he considers his own agenda more important than his son’s.
I guess you can still be a good person, but a shitty parent.
“What about you?” Cairo raises his head. He’s stopped crying, but his face is blurry. “You’re sick, Cassia. You’ve been poisoned. I can’t lose you. You’re the love of my life, my reason for existing. If something happens to you—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I say, though it sounds like a noose is being drawn around my neck, tick tock, tick tock. I grab his head and pull it to my chest, holding him. “We’ll… we’ll find a cure.”
Cairo seems terrified, but I’m not. I’m not afraid of death… I don’t even believe I’m going to die. The reason?
Mala. She said I would make two decisions to sacrifice myself, one that was right and one that I’d regret, before it led me to my demise. A few days isn’t enough time for that prophecy to pass, especially if I’m sick and confined to my bed.
Unless Mala’s just freaking nuts and I’m just in denial.
Cairo starts kissing my neck. His lips trail along my collar bone and dip downward. “I can’t lose you. I can’t…” he trails off weakly, his hands running through my hair.
“You will never lose me. No matter what, I’ll always be with you,” I say.
Cairo’s lips move upward, to mine. We kiss lovingly, fiercely. His drying tears are wet and cold against my cheeks, insistent and pleading.
Taken over by a sudden passion, I pull off my shirt and let it drop to the floor. I undo my bra and toss it aside so I’m in nothing but my jeans. I’m still kissing Cairo, whose eyes are still closed shut.
This is it. We’re doing this. We’re…
But when Cairo’s hands start to move downward, onto my breasts, images replace my sight. Visions of a darkened, dirty room, a bare mattress, harsh smells. Cairo’s smooth face gives away to an unshaven one, his soft designer shirt changing into a stained and dirty coat…
Suddenly, it’s not him who’s touching me. It’s Eric. I’m back in Ann Arbor, I’m in Eric’s house, and I’m being violated.
“Stop, stop, STOP!” I say. I scamper away from him, clawing my way to the other end of the couch. I hastily grapple for my shirt and pull it overhead, sliding it on and wrapping my arms around myself.
Cairo’s eyes are open. The way he’s staring at me… I sigh, but it sounds more like a hit to my chest. I’ve wounded him so badly. Again. At a time when he’s more vulnerable than I’ve ever known him to be.
Panic fades. I slide back to the other side of the couch, now in the cottage and no longer back there. I reach out to touch him… he flinches, but I wrap my arms around him anyway.
Cairo’s voice is dull. “I’m not that monster.”
I press my lips into his wonderful, golden hair. “I know, Cairo. I know.”
Cairo rests his face into my chest. “You can’t die. I can’t live without you, Cassia. I won’t.”
“Don’t worry.” I kiss his hair again, and the sickness in my belly leaps. A foreboding feeling creeps over my skin as I feel the poison growing, creeping up my throat, down into my intestines. You don’t have much time. “We’ll find a way.”
“Lena, you need to go home.” Thames nudges my arm and I raise my head off a dusty encyclopedia. “You’re not helping.”
I blink and look around. We’re in the Immortal Legion’s library, combing through every book and scroll we can get our hands on about immortals.
No good. Only a few mention the Jikininki at all, and none of them say anything about venom. Not even the Book of Nephilim has any answers.
Roman taught me everything about identifying demons and killing them, but nothing about how to save yourself if you were poisoned by one.
I guess he assumed I was good enough at killing them I’d never need to know.
“I have to help you guys,” I argue. “Cass—”
“We’ve been up all night. We’re not about to fail her now,” Thames says gently. “Go spend some time with her. Cairo and I have got this.”
Cairo’s eyes are bloodshot. He doesn’t even hear us. He’s too engrossed in the book.
I suppress a yawn and say, “Okay, Thames. Call me if you find anything.”
Thames briefly brushes his fingers over mine before he returns to re-reading the Book of Nephilim. We’re desperately searching for anything that’ll provide an antidote for my sister, but so far, there’s nothing.
I don’t allow myself to think of what will happen if we’re too late. I prefer not to deal with bad stuff until it happens.
I stop by Cassia’s house to grab a few things, thinking she’ll need them at the hospital, but I’m shocked to see her curled up on the couch underneath a blanket, a cup of warm tea in her hands and a heavy, gray-knit sweater of Cairo’s swallowing her whole.
“Hey. I thought you were at the hospital?” I ask. I sit beside her on the couch and pull the blanket over my own knees, tucking my legs next to hers.
She shakes her head. “They can’t do anything for me. I told them I didn’t want to spend my last days at a hospital, and they let me go.”
“Don’t say that. We’ll fix you,” I insist.
She shrugs. I peek behind her. A trail of black feathers have been left in her wake all around the house, scattered in thin patterns.
Cass’ feathers are falling off. That only happens to a Nephilim when they’re near death.
“I don’t think I’m going to die,” she says, as if interrupting my thoughts. “I just feel awful.”
She can say that again. In the past twenty-four hours her condition has worsened significantly. Her face is hollow, and her pasty skin sticks to her bones, thin and taut. We can’t get her to eat. She doesn’t want to.
“If this is goodbye, I want to say goodbye to Cairo. The right way, before I lose my chance.” She gives a sad smile. “Not that I could, now. I’m too weak.”
“What do you mean?” I ask. I snuggle into the blanket and pull it up to my nose.”
She sighs. “Thames has probably told you that Cairo and I haven’t had sex yet.”
“I don’t believe Thames. He can exaggerate sometimes.”
She raises an eyebrow, and I laugh. “Okay, all the time. And I doubt he’s hiding in your closet just waiting for the right moment to watch.”
She laughs. “You’re right.”
Then her cracked lips fade, turning downward. “But it’s true. We haven’t.”
“Why? You guys have been dating for—”
“Three years.” She puts her head on the couch. “Pathetic, I know.”
“It’s not pathetic,” I say. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Who cares if you sleep with Cairo or not? Go at your own pa
ce.”
“Cairo’s never had sex before, so he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Cass plays with a stray thread on the blanket. “And all my experiences with it were traumatic, so I have nothing to go on.”
“Don’t blame yourself,” I say. “It’s not like this is abnormal behavior. Anyone would struggle to move on from what happened to you.”
“I feel so bad,” she says. “We’ve tried so many times, but I always end up freaking out before we get anywhere. And then he feels awful, and it makes the next time even harder.”
“It’s not your fault. It wasn’t like it was just one time, was it?” I ask, kinda scared.
“Eric tortured me for months and months.” Her eyes grow darker. “There were so many times. When I think back on it, I can hardly remember it… it’s like I’ve blacked it out of my memory.”
She looks at me. “What about you? Have you and Thames had sex?”
“Oh, I see. Trying to get the scoop on Thames junk?” I ask playfully.
“Sorry. I know it’s not my business to ask.”
She backpedals, and I don’t like it. I want us to be open.
“I’m joking,” I laugh. Then I turn serious. “No. I don’t really know why we haven’t, yet.” I sink further into the cushion. “There’s no complicated answer like with you guys.”
“You’ve only been dating seven months,” Cassia replies. “Give it time.”
“I want it now,” I complain, and Cassia laughs louder.
“For real, though,” I add when she stops cracking up. “Thames is the hottest dude alive. Like, have you seen him without a shirt? Totally sexy.”
“Careful, you’ve got drool on your chin,” she teases.
“Shut up,” I bark back. “Anyway, he’s handsome, and sweet, and the nicest guy ever.” I cross my legs. “It doesn’t make sense that I’m afraid to jump his bones.”
“I figured it was because he doesn’t want to curse you,” Cassia says. “Drag you down to hell with him for sleeping with him or something.”
“What?” I sit up. “Did he tell you that?”
“No. But I know Thames.” Cassia finally rips the stray thread out of the blanket. “He wouldn’t want to damn your soul by accident.”