by Carol Oates
“She wants to get close to you. Whatever her agenda is, it involves you.”
Candra rolled her shoulders back with determination and refocused her attention on the stage where Lilith had re-taken her seat. “Well, then, we are just going to have to find out exactly what that is.”
Father Patrick excused the congregation, reminding them again that the school provided a counseling service for those in need. Lofi and Candra had barely managed to shuffle to the end of their row before Lilith and Father Patrick were there, blocking their way.
“Ms. Ember, may we have a word?”
Lofi’s fingers tightened around Candra’s forearm, hidden by the proximity of their bodies. “Actually, Father, we’re both a little shaken up by your emotional sermon.”
Father Patrick’s lips curved into an indulgent smile. “This will only take a few minutes, Ms. Duarte, and as much as we are delighted to have you back with us, I’m sure Ms. Ember can speak for herself.” His tone left no doubt that it wasn’t a request and he had no interest in arguing with Lofi.
Candra guessed it was Lilith’s influence and made a mental note that it seemed to be dominant over Lofi’s. That nugget of information came as a surprise to Candra, considering that Lofi had once been a high-ranking angel and one of Sebastian’s lieutenants. Then, Lilith had outsmarted the Arch…possibly more than once. Evidently, Lilith was not to be underestimated. Despite that, Candra remained convinced that Lilith underestimating her was a definite advantage.
Candra needed to figure out what Lilith wanted and how far she would go to achieve her goals. She reached into Lofi’s grip and unwound her fingers from her forearm.
“It’s okay, Lofi. I’ll follow along in a few minutes.”
“But, Candra—” Lofi started with a fake smile and showing too many teeth. “I promised I would stay with you.”
Candra knew there was a vital word absent from that sentence—that word being Sebastian. Lofi had promised Sebastian she would stay with her. She also knew his slightly irrational mind would blame Lofi for separating and not, rightly, her. She could deal with that later. She was as much a part of this fight as anyone, and she had as much responsibility to take action when an opportunity presented itself. Candra told herself that she wasn’t one of Sebastian’s subordinates—she was a weapon, and until someone could define what that meant, she remained a useless weapon.
“I’m okay. Truly, I am,” Candra guaranteed Lofi. “It was you who just told me that school is the safest place to be right now. Nothing will happen to me here. Isn’t that right?” Candra’s eyes fixed coldly on Lilith.
She smiled, as if appraising Candra, and then nodded. “Of course, this is a worrying time for everyone in the city, but no harm will come to you here.”
Lofi frowned, her eyebrows knitting together and her lips forming a pout. She was obviously groping for a way to argue without drawing too much attention to them. Besides Father Patrick, there were plenty of other students still loitering around in no apparent rush to return to their studies.
“Oh, come now,” Lilith said with full lips pulling back over glistening teeth, making her look anything but benign. “Candra will be perfectly fine. She’s not in trouble. I just want to talk.”
Candra’s eyes flickered to Father Patrick, who was growing more disgruntled by the second at her hesitation. Lofi nodded reluctantly, but Candra saw she was gripping her skirt so hard, the skin across the back of her knuckles strained over bone and bleached white. Candra took her hand and looked into her eyes, knowing Lofi worried about more than the idea of facing Sebastian. Lofi didn’t trust Lilith, and on that much, she and Candra were in complete agreement.
Father Patrick excused himself to speak to another professor.
“I’ll come find you,” Candra told Lofi quietly.
Lofi smiled tightly. “Okay. I have to go make a phone call anyway.” Her eyes flashed in Lilith’s direction. Distrust and frustration radiated from every inch of her.
Candra didn’t need to be told that Lofi hated feeling so powerless, but so did she. If she could garner any amount of information, it had to be a good thing for all of them in the end. She simply couldn’t sit back any longer and play the defenseless little human, needing to be looked after all the time. She carried Payne’s blood—one of the highest-ranking angels of heaven—and she was intent on claiming that power.
Candra followed Lilith out of the auditorium, aware of the many eyes burning into her back, and gritted her teeth. She had been watched her entire life. The difference was now she was aware of it. Sebastian would be furious. Draven too. It probably wasn’t the best way to prove them wrong about treating her like a delicate flower. She rationalized this impromptu meeting by reminding herself that she had done the same thing once before when she’d snuck off to meet Draven. That had worked out…in the end. Regardless of how they felt, she wanted to know Lilith’s intentions, not only for everyone else, but also for herself.
Chapter Nine
LILITH LED CANDRA THROUGH corridor after corridor, leaving her with plenty of time to ponder her next move and the questions she might ask. They moved deeper into the bowels of the old building, eventually stopping outside a heavy carved door in a hallway where Candra had never been before. Lilith removed a key from the pocket of her skirt and glanced over her shoulder.
“It seems I find myself in the depths yet again.”
“I’m sure,” Candra muttered, earning an amused chuckle from her guide. There was a notable lack of students in the vicinity and no sign of any other faculty. What were the chances someone would hear her scream? She decided not to think about the question too deeply; it seemed a little futile to consider running away at this point.
Candra winced when the key turned in the lock. The screeching metal was loud in the silent corridor…a creepy portent of doom. She scowled and quickly admonished herself for being too dramatic. I am a weapon, for heaven’s sake. Of course, then she had to bite back a nervous giggle at her very appropriate internal monologue. Lilith held the door and allowed Candra to enter first. She jumped and swallowed thickly when it closed behind them with a hefty thud.
The room wasn’t what Candra expected at all; it looked the same as the other lecturers’ offices. A single window afforded the only daylight; a long, rectangular sheet of glass protected by metal bars high on the wall stretched the width of the room. At least she could see people moving on the outside, and the muffled sound of traffic seeped in, breaking the absolute silence. The window provided more than sufficient lighting now, but come mid-winter, the thick flakes of snow that always fell on Acheron and settled around the buildings and monuments of the city would completely block the view. Candra imagined it would compare to being buried alive, and the thought made her shiver.
Lilith was right; Father Patrick had consigned her to the depths. Arguably, she could have influenced him, or whoever handled office assignments, and bagged herself the best office available, maybe even Father Patrick’s own plush rooms. The fact that she remained here indicated Lilith enjoyed the darker recesses.
The rest of the office was generic. The room centered around a large desk with curling, carved legs and a leather writing pad, and the surface around it had darkened from many generations of educators working there. The walls had a fresh coating of pale cream paint, and the chemical scent still lingered in the air. A tall file cabinet matched the desk. Candra presumed it would be empty since Lilith was an interloper rather than a genuine counselor. Several smallish packing boxes also sat haphazardly along the top of a bookcase stocked with old leather bound reference volumes and nothing else. Why all the pretense?
“Coffee, tea?” Lilith suggested, absently waving to a makeshift refreshment area set up on top of the cabinet.
“Oh, yes, please,” Candra replied brightly, “if we’re planning to sit here and profess to be what we appear to be.”
Lilith smiled and tittered softly. “I feel almost human in this body.”
“Steal t
hat too, did you?” Candra quipped dryly, reminding Lilith she hadn’t forgotten what else she had stolen.
Lilith shrugged and proceeded to tap the switch on the kettle, which fizzed to life straight away.
The sound irritated Candra beyond reason. “Let’s cut the bull, shall we? You tell me what you want, I tell you that you can’t have it, and then we will all know where we stand.”
Lilith’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Something about the action made Candra see Ivy, and she couldn’t help wondering how far deep inside she was trapped. Could she feel? Was she fighting? Did she have any awareness of what Lilith was doing at all? Did it hurt?
“Yes,” Lilith said dispassionately. She had turned away to drop a tea bag into a cup before adding water.
Candra stayed silent, waiting for the rest. Lilith took her cup to the desk and put it down with the string from the tea bag still hanging over the side. She raised her eyes, peering at Candra through her thick back eyelashes. “Yes is the answer to your question.”
Candra’s breath caught in her lungs and burned. Lilith gracefully took her seat. There was no short standoff as there had been with Draven, no battle of wits, preamble, or maneuvers to gain the tactical advantage of standing over an opponent. Lilith gave the appearance of being utterly unperturbed, perhaps convinced of her indestructibility. An angel had tried to destroy Lilith once. All they needed was one weakness, one chink in her armor and Candra intended to annihilate her.
“I have a proposition for you. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to talk to you alone.” Lilith reclined a bit in the seat, steepling her fingers below her chin. She scrutinized Candra thoughtfully. “Today isn’t about what I want. It’s about what I can offer you.”
“You already had your chance to speak to me alone.” Candra crossed her legs but rested her hands informally on the smooth armrests, consciously trying to not give off a defensive air. “Why does everyone think they can proposition me?”
Lilith had made her first mistake. If she truly held the power to take whatever she wanted, there would be no negotiations.
“I’m waiting,” Candra prompted when she still hadn’t answered.
Lilith reached forward and caught the edge of the desk. Candra saw the wood dip under the pressure of the long fingers pressing into it, and a flutter of nerves erupted in her stomach.
“Don’t be petulant. Regardless of anything else, remember who you are.”
Candra’s fingers tightened in reflex to the reprimand. Who is she to speak of propriety? She was a demon, lower than the lowest pond scum that crawled from the sewers. Lilith fixed her almond eyes on Candra, still leaning forward to the desk between them. Caught unawares, Candra spluttered the first thing that came into her head.
“Can you read my mind?”
Lilith chuckled, releasing her death grip on the wood but leaving brand new grooves in the shape of her slender fingers. “Goodness, no, and I’m grateful. No offense, but given your relationship, the last place I would wish to be is inside your head.” She paused in pulling open a drawer and pursed her lips as if reconsidering. “Well, almost the last place.”
“Then how are you doing that?”
Lilith sighed. “Aside from being mildly transparent in your thoughts, your expressions give you away. You should work on that.”
“Then tell me,” Candra demanded and took extra caution to keep her expression guarded. “Who do you believe I am?”
The hinge in the drawer caught, making a clinking sound, and Lilith met Candra’s eyes again. The green twinkled like emeralds in the light. Candra hadn’t noticed before, but they seemed to have lost some of their luster. Although still arresting, they weren’t quite as dark anymore. The difference may not have been discernible to anyone else, but Candra knew those eyes as well as her own, and she was positive of it.
“You are like me,” Lilith told her, apparently perplexed, and her eyebrows drawing down to from a tiny vertical line over her nose. “At the same time, you are everything I’m not. What you are is the thing that makes me incomplete.”
Candra narrowed her eyes dubiously, virtually to slits, sure Lilith was reaching because she had nothing to hold over her. Her damp palms slid over the smooth wood beneath them. “Are you really giving me the ‘you complete me’ line?” When she was met with a blank expression, she wondered if any of them would ever get her pop culture references.
“I’m not sure I understand.” Lilith sat back without removing anything from the drawer and pushed a loose stand of hair behind her ear. She frowned, dismissing Candra’s words, and continued. “You are a reflection, an opposite of me. For darkness, there must be light. One does not exist without the other. It’s symbiotic, the most beautiful part of existence. You were created to balance me.”
“I was created to kill you,” Candra corrected her with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Sebastian warned me you would try to trick me.”
“No.” Lilith shook her head empathically. “You were born to cast me into darkness, not to destroy me. I cannot be destroyed…even Sebastian knows that. The Arch made you and molded you so the most powerful of his children would protect you just so he could keep me from what I deserve. Except…” She paused. “If you do manage to figure out how to trap me downstairs, I’ll be bringing some new guests.”
She was using Ivy as leverage. All of a sudden, an image of Ivy floating downward into murky water flashed through Candra’s mind. She desperately wanted to shake her head in disbelief. She wanted to swear, stamp her feet, and say it wasn’t so. Except for one tiny problem: it all sounded so damn reasonable. In a twisted way, it made perfect sense.
“You mentioned a proposition?”
“Yes.” Lilith smiled, appeased by the knowledge that Candra didn’t disbelieve her. She reached for the drawer once more.
Candra gulped when she pulled out a knife and carefully laid it on the table between them.
“Do you know what this is?”
Candra bent forward for a closer look and lifted her eyes, unsure. “A dagger?” The dubious quality of her voice surprised even her.
Lilith laughed gleefully. The sound reminded Candra of something she couldn’t quite place, but it wasn’t a pleasant memory. Then it came to her as a tidal wave of nausea rushed over her. It was the dream she had awakened from time and time again, the sound of the tinkling of glass hitting the ground all around her. She closed her eyes briefly and did her best to regain her equilibrium, but it felt as if the room had tipped sideways and the only thing holding her still was her grip on the armrests of her seat.
When she opened her eyes, Candra licked her lips. She wished she’d taken Lilith up the offer of tea. The cup of cooling liquid on the table in front of her taunted her queasy stomach. To distract herself, she took a keener look at the knife. The blade wasn’t a markedly impressive weapon—it was essentially a ragged-looking, old thing. The handle was a knotted piece of wood that appeared to have seen some wear. The pointed tip embedded into the handle couldn’t really be described as a blade at all. To the naked eye, it was glass or a crystal of some kind and polished to a high shine. Candra supposed the blade would shatter under any type of force.
“This,” Lilith said, skimming her fingertips almost lovingly over the length of the handle, “is the Creation Blade.” Her gaze flickered up to Candra, and seeing no recognition, she continued. “Ambriel should have been more thorough about your education.”
A spike of rage stabbed into Candra’s belly. She fought the emotion back down because, on consideration, she honestly believed the comment a mere observation rather than something meant to provoke her. “I think if we are going to get anywhere, we need to leave my family out of this.”
Lilith didn’t lift her head, although Candra saw the edges of her lips quirk up in a smile. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously as a warning, despite Lilith not being able to see.
“The blade is from a fulgurite formed when the first life was instilled on the Earth.”
&n
bsp; “Fulgurite?” Candra raised her eyebrows in confusion.
Lilith’s laughter tinkled again. It wasn’t helping Candra with her tentative hold on her temper.
“It’s what’s created when sand or silica in soil fuse in the immense heat from a lightning strike.”
Candra nodded, satisfied. Honestly, why would she learn such an obscure piece of information?
“The handle is cut from the tree of knowledge,” Lilith went on almost reverently.
Candra leaned in for a closer look. Surely such a weapon would be visually impressive, if it existed at all. The dagger in front of her looked like it had been thrown together by a Boy Scout. “So you brought me here to show me your toys? I’m impressed. Can I leave now?”
“I’m not holding you here,” Lilith corrected her, pushing her seat back and away from the desk to cross her slender legs. “You are free to leave if you wish.”
Without a second thought, Candra went to stand.
“But,” Lilith said, cutting off Candra’s movements, “we haven’t discussed my proposition yet. Aren’t you the least bit curious why I have come here?”
Candra wished she could say no and leave anyway, but unfortunately, knowing what Lilith wanted was vital to working out how to get rid of her. She sat back down, recalling how the last proposition offered to her had played out. It had all been a lie…and that had come from someone who was on her side and an angel to boot.
“How can you believe that I would ever trust you enough to take anything you say seriously?”
Lilith ran a fingertip lightly across her bottom lip before answering. “I believe that you wish to avert what’s coming.”
Candra sighed, suddenly trapped by those words. Lilith was right, and she knew it. Candra despised giving in with every fiber of her being, but she couldn’t think of another option. Lilith knew her better than she wanted her to.
“Even if I hear you out, Draven and Sebastian will never agree to whatever you are after,” Candra warned, feeling the need to attempt to gain the upper hand.