“Hamburgers, with all the fixings. I love hamburgers.”
Alan shook his head, still in disbelief as he stood in awe, muttering, “Mind hamburgers.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“So when do I get a cool name like yours?”
“What do you mean?”
“Yeah, Angelica is Angel, Danielle is Valkyrie, then we have Arch and Guardian. I mean those can’t be your real names.”
Guardian looked at him with a measured stare as they walked out of the warehouse and into the afternoon’s setting sun. The warehouse district was abandoned, leaving the two men alone and free from any prying eyes. “You are correct; my real name is Jacob Johns. Guardian is the name I earned when I was chosen. Arch is Arther Penmore.”
“Great, so when and how do I get my name?”
The tall, muscular man looked Alan up and down with something similar to disapproval, and Alan nearly recoiled from the stare. Guardian was nothing like Angelica or Arther; his two teachers before were friendly and warm. Even while Angel was tossing him to the floor, she had done so in instruction.
“You will earn your name in time. It’s important to us all to use our chosen names while out and in the presence of the enemy. If they knew who we really were, they’d seek to hurt families, friends, those we love.”
Alan thought about who in his life could be affected by his enemies knowing his identity, and he drew a blank. Well, I guess there’s an upside to having no one who cares about you.
“I was informed that you’ve already discovered your gift of speed.”
The judging tone Jacob used was a clear indication that he was well aware of Alan’s sticky fingers and questionable shopping habits. “Yes, that’s right.”
Jacob fixed Alan with a hard stare. “Well, let’s see what other skills our organization has deemed fit to bless you with. Doing this will require a high level of emotional and mental strain. What was happening to you? What was going through your mind when you first found you could run faster than any human alive?”
Alan placed both hands onto his hips and looked at the ground. He knew the answer to Jacob’s question all too well. “I was alone, scared, freaked out, and angry.”
“Those are powerful emotions. Left unchecked and allowed to rule you, they would destroy you. However, through training and willpower, you can choose to harness those feelings and use them for something good.”
Alan would have rather sat at the kitchen table for hours on end, or have even been thrown through the air half a dozen more times, than talk about his broken emotional past. He forced himself to make eye contact with Jacob. The man was a few decades older than he was, though despite this, he rivaled Alan for size. A strong jaw and a scar that ran from the corner of his left eye and down his cheekbone made him look more like a professional mob enforcer than a Nephilim.
“Do you understand what I’m saying to you, Alan?”
“Yes.”
Jacob’s voice softened the slightest bit. “It brings me no pleasure to discuss things that’ll no doubt be painful for you to admit. But to learn and harness your skills, we’ll need to strengthen you from the inside out. Now, think back to the moment you found your speed. Relive the events and feel the emotions that pushed to the surface. Control them, and I want you to hit me.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Alan took a deep breath and approached Jacob.
“I want you to hit me in the chest as hard as you can.”
“Okay, I would say ‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ but you know what you’re doing.”
Jacob didn’t respond. Instead, he placed his muscular arms by his sides and motioned for Alan to strike. “Remember, relive the events that made you who you are today.”
Before Alan could second-guess Jacob’s tactics or remind himself how wild this entire situation was, he assumed the stance Angel had shown him that morning. Fists up, he sent out a strike toward Jacob’s chest, rotating his hips to make sure the full force of his body was behind the punch.
Fist collided with chest, making a loud thudding sound in the quiet afternoon air. Mild pain shot through Alan’s hand as he pulled back and looked to Jacob for instruction.
Jacob shook his head. “If this is going to work, I need you to commit, Alan. The fear, the pain, and the anger. I need you to experience it all. I need you to be there again. Take yourself back to the place where you’d first discovered you were meant for something more than an ordinary life. Come on, once more.”
Jacob had asked for Alan to open the mental barriers Alan had placed around his childhood. So, trying not to think about the things he’d fought so hard to bury deep in the dark recesses of his memory only made them surface faster—the night of the only dance he’d ever been to; the beating he’d endured at the hands of the school bully. Alan closed his eyes, trying to forget.
“Good,” he heard Jacob say. “Don’t fight it. Remember it. Feel it once again.”
Eyes closed, Alan remembered being laughed at and called names like “dork,” “weirdo,” “nerd,” “zero”…
“All those years you thought you were alone,” Jacob’s voice filled the silence. “All the pain, loneliness, depression, bullying … they’re all a part of you, but you can choose here and now to not let them define who you are today. Use it, Alan. Use that energy and aggression, but now know you are not alone. There is hope; there is redemption.”
Alan’s body shook as heat poured out from some hidden well of strength deep within. He could hear Jacob’s voice, but even more intensely, he could feel the power surging within.
“You’ve endured only as much as you were meant to. All those years of hardship have made you stronger, Alan. They’ve made you into something few people are. Left without hope and purpose, you’d be consumed by those feelings. But you aren’t alone. You have hope now, and more importantly, you have purpose. Now hit me!”
Alan didn’t know he was throwing more than one punch, but by the time he was aware of his fists flying, he’d stricken Jacob on the chest multiple times. Wildly, he marched forward, sending strike after strike echoing into his target. Tears of controlled emotion flooded with his consent, and all Alan could see was the pain he’d endured for so many years, the pain he still struggled to overcome. Now, though, he had hope and answers; now he wasn’t alone.
“Enough.” Jacob’s ragged gasp made Alan shudder.
Embarrassed, he wiped away the moisture from his eyes. Jacob was doubled over with a painful expression. Alan instinctively moved toward him to help, an apology on his lips.
“No.” Jacob warded Alan off with an outstretched hand. The older man straightened with a wince. “No, I’m fine. You did well. Next time, I’ll have to use my own powers.”
Alan’s curiosity piqued. “What are your—”
“Um… guys?” Alan and Jacob turned toward the entrance of the warehouse, where Danielle stood in the doorway, motioning them to come inside. “You’re going to want to hear this.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
“My brothers and sisters of the Fallen race. Thank you for your willingness to hear what I have to say and for joining me on such short notice.” The room was silent, as she knew it would be. The eleven other seats placed around the large, circular table were taken up by the most powerful members of her species, members would who not see it necessary to affirm her thanks with a response.
Both male and female members were in attendance. Some lounged quietly in the shadows, while others smoked cigarettes or exchanged curious glances with their neighbors. “I am sure you are all wondering what I asked you here for—”
“Yes, yes, Ardat, enough with the dramatics. What is it that’s so important you summoned us to this ‘history-altering’ meeting? I was in the middle of a rather delicate nuclear missile deal.”
Ardat turned her dark eyes on the speaker, his conceited tone already revealing his identity. Nevertheless, she wanted to skewer Belmore with a menacing look.
<
br /> “Oh please, woman, save your looks for your Nephilim. I don’t fear you.”
She hated the smug look on his baggy face. The way his thinning hair fell off his spotted, balding head. She wanted nothing more than to walk over to his seat, tear his stupid arms from his stupid body and beat him to death with them. Yet, she’d come too far now to let her legendary temper get the best of her. “Of course. My guests, you all know our predicament here on Earth. For much longer than I care to remember, we’ve been sentenced to this cell, waiting our day of judgment.”
Disgruntled murmurs and mutters echoed throughout the room.
“What if I were to tell you that our waiting is over? What if I were to say that I have found a way to tip the scales in our favor?”
Those lounging in their seats sat up straight, and side conversations were silenced as every member in the room looked to her for an explanation.
Ardat let the silence hold for a bit longer, allowing herself to revel in the moment for only a brief second before she continued. “We are here with no chance of escape; the bloody angels and their Nephilim make sure of that. The angels are much too powerful for us to compete with, but what if I were to tell you that I’ve found a book. A book that would enable us to craft weapons to not only even the odds, but also allow us to finally kill the guards so unjustly keeping us caged here on Earth.”
“How?” The voice came from a small woman with curly white hair. Her shark-like teeth showed through every time she spoke. “How will a book help us against our enemy?”
Belmore scoffed. “Please, Triana, you’ve never before been interested in an uprising. In fact, I’m surprised to see you here at all. For all of our sakes, do not indulge Ardat further. She’s obviously on a journey to find self-worth and praise among her betters.”
Ardat’s rage built in her chest at Belmore’s words. It was true; Triana’s presence at the meeting was unexpected. Throughout the centuries, Triana had lived a life of seclusion from her kind. Now, not only her presence but also her boldness to voice a question caused Ardat to think twice about the woman’s true intentions. “There is a book, and this book contains the knowledge to forge celestial weapons that no longer exist, and that will place us on top of the food chain where we belong. We’ll finally have a way to kill angels.”
The room sat silent, stunned. Ardat knew they wanted to believe her. They’d all heard the legend of such a book, but until now, it was only a legend spoken in wistful thoughts or passing disbelief.
“How did you find the book, dear?” Triana said. Her voice was soft and slow, trying to mask the urgency of her desired answer.
Ardat made a mental note of Triana’s interest. In a room full of demonic beings, multiple strategies were always at play. “I’ve been searching for over a hundred years. Finally, I was able to narrow in on the exact location by tracing the family tree of the humans who were entrusted with the knowledge. When the war in Heaven was over and our sentence was carried out, all of the weapons capable of killing an angel or a demon were destroyed, but the knowledge of how to make these weapons was not. The book was entrusted to humans to protect. Why? I don’t know. All I know is that I’ve found it.”
“And do you have it now?” Triana’s voice quivered. “May we see it?”
Ardat shook her head. “My most trusted Nephilim are retrieving the book as we speak. It will be in our possession at any moment.”
“Pshhhhhh…” Belmore scoffed as he rose from his seat. “You called this meeting because you supposedly know of a magical book that will make us weapons?”
Ardat slowly began to walk around the large table to where Belmore stood.
“What’s even more, you expect us to believe and trust you that this book exists while you have no proof?”
Ardat kept a firm smile in place as she traveled the last few steps to stand next to Belmore. The fool had no idea what she was about to do. Instead of running in fear, he just stood there, spittle running from his sloshing lips as he continued to rant. “The angels cannot be killed. They are twice—no, three times more powerful than any one of us. They—”Ardat firmly grabbed Belmore’s left arm and, with a flesh-tearing rip, twisted it, separating it from his body. Black blood spewed across the table like water from a broken sprinkler. The look on Belmore’s face was priceless; shock more than pain glazed over his bulging eyes. Unable to kill him without the aid of a celestial weapon, Ardat knew over time his arm would be mended back to his body and Belmore would live. But this knowledge didn’t stop her from finding delight in her actions as she used his arm as a club to knock him unconscious.
The room fell silent once again. Ardat cleared her throat as she tossed Belmore’s limp arm down on top of his body, which now lay sprawled on the table. “Excuse me. I have such a temper; sometimes I just can’t help myself. As I was saying, I will have the book in my possession very soon, and when I do, I will start forging weapons right away. Soon, my brothers and sisters, very soon, we will overrun our enemy and usher in a new era: our era.”
Ardat let a small smile play across her mouth as eager eyes and words of affirmation met her ears.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Alan and Jacob followed Danielle inside to her own special section of the warehouse: a room filled with computer monitors and high-tech equipment, whose functions were well past Alan’s knowledge of technology. Arther and Angelica were already inside. Arther was sitting comfortably in a dark chair, rocking himself backwards and forwards without any clear physical sign of movement. Angelica was examining one of the many flickering monitors in the room.
Danielle wasted no time in walking to a large monitor and clicking buttons on a keypad. “So I’ve been monitoring phone calls in and out of all the known places where the Fallen have stationed their dark Nephilim—pool halls, strip clubs, bars, night clubs; you know, all of the upstanding, classy places.”
“Wait a minute,” Alan said. “You’ve tapped into their phones? How many?”
Still hunched over her keyboard, Danielle looked over her shoulder with a smile. “All of them, actually. We can listen to anyone’s conversations. I have a specific algorithm that tracks the known hangouts for the Fallen and their minions.”
“Isn’t that against the law?” Alan asked.
“That’s what I said.” Arther’s voice joined the conversation in a singsong way that made Angelica chuckle.
“It’s imperative that we stay one step ahead of the Fallen,” Jacob said. “The cost of them attaining the upper hand would mean death and destruction on a horrific level.”
Alan shrugged. He didn’t like the fact that they were eavesdropping on the general population, but he could see the need, and besides, he had nothing to hide.
“Anyway, a program I have running flagged a conversation, and I thought you guys should hear it.” Danielle pressed one last key, and a nasally voice conversing with another rough, gravelly one spoke over the room’s sound system.
“Yeah, she said she finally found it,” the nasally voice remarked.
“I know that’s what she said. But do you really think she has it right this time?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her so sure. Drencher, and maybe some of the others, are going to retrieve it tonight.”
“I heard we’re supposed to report to the main headquarters later for a special project. Wonder what it is.”
“Well,” said the nasally voice, lowering to a near whisper, “if she really has found the missing Chronicle, I’d imagine she’d want us to start forging weapons right away.”
Danielle stopped the recording. “That’s it. They go on to talk about sniffing paint and tripping out on the latest reality TV show.”
“Sniffing paint?” Angelica said. “Do people still do that?”
“Demon Nephilim these days,” Arther said. “What do you think, Jacob?”
All eyes turned to their leader, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest and a dark look on his face. “I think we have bigger issues n
ow than huffing paint. You all know the story of the Chronicle. If they have found it, then we are in very serious trouble.”
Just as Alan made to voice that he had no idea what anyone was talking about, Danielle saved him the time. “The Chronicle is an ancient book on making celestial weapons capable of killing either angels or demons. We thought it was lost over the years; until now, it’s just been a story, a myth.”
“But if there’s any truth to what we’ve heard…” Angelica’s voice trailed off.
“Then we need to pursue the lead,” Jacob finished. “Danielle, where did the call come from? It sounded like Infinity talking to another of the Fallen’s Nephilim.”
Danielle turned back to her keyboard. Her fingers flew across the keys like a master pianist giving the performance of a lifetime. “Got it. The call was made from the Sunny Mead—and you’re right. It was Infinity on the line. I’m not sure who he was talking to, though.”
Arther let out a low whistle as his chair ceased to rock. “You’re going to want to go, aren’t you, Jacob?”
Jacob nodded. “I hope you’re ready, Alan. This isn’t going to be easy.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“It just looks like a normal bar,” Alan said as he exited the sleek sedan into the cool night air. Jacob had taken the car from a warehouse next to their own where, to Alan’s surprise, an army of automobiles and aircrafts were stored for their use. Jacob, Angelica, and Arther piled out of the car behind him. From the look on everyone’s faces and from the general mood on the ride to the location, Alan would have guessed they were walking into Hell itself.
Instead, what greeted them was a midsize bar with the picture of a large flagon of beer and a sunrise behind it. “Don’t judge the Sunny Mead by its outward appearance,” Danielle spoke into Alan’s earpiece. “It’s one of the most dangerous places in the city; it’s a known hangout spot for some of the very worst Demon Nephilim, and Infinity himself is no joke. We’ve tangled with him before.”
The Complete Archangel Wars Series: A Shared Universe Series (The Archangel Wars) Page 9