by D. N. Hoxa
A million questions invaded my mind as I watched his dark brown eyes search my face. Anastasia was Arturo’s fifty-year-old daughter, the one he always left Lyndor to go visit—I knew that much. But it still didn't make any sense.
“Who killed your daughter, Arturo?”
“The C-C-Council,” he stuttered, and his eyes filled with tears.
“And I am supposed to believe you…why exactly?” I didn't believe a single word out of his mouth, but still, the more I could get out of him before I killed him, the better.
“They…” he started to say but couldn't get enough air through his windpipe, so I had to loosen my grip a little and lower Bob. “They sent me her…her finger.”
Now that’s some seriously messed up imagination, I thought, but I didn't say it out loud.
“Go on.”
“They…I wouldn't agree to do a…job for them. So they…they said they would teach me a lesson. I never thought I…” he took in a deep breath before he continued. He was an even better actor than I gave him credit for. “I never thought they’d actually go after my child.” He closed his eyes as if he really was in pain. And if I had believed him, I would’ve said of course they would. That's what the Council did, and Arturo didn't keep his daughter a secret. He talked about her all the fucking time.
“So why did you come to find me?”
“Because,” he said like my question was stupid, “you’re the only one who knows. The only one who can help me get my revenge.”
Cutting his daughter’s finger off and sending it to him sounded exactly like something the Council would do, but I couldn’t bring myself to believe him. Arturo had been with the Council since the very beginning. He’d told me himself.
“I got on a plane to Chicago as soon as I received her…” finger, he wanted to say, but he just flinched instead. I still had my hand around his throat, and Bob’s tip under his chin. “I’d already found out about your apartment, so this was the first place I thought to look for you.”
“Yeah, right,” I mumbled. I was running out of patience. “Why are you really here, Arturo? Have you been here this whole time checking on my apartment? Have you made all this mess here? Just tell me the truth.”
“No! I swear. This is the first time I’m seeing this place,” he said, trying but failing to shake his head. He still hadn’t made any attempt to attack me, and that threw me off balance. I could tell ninety-nine percent of the time if someone was telling the truth, but supernaturals like Arturo were a different story. They had experience. They were strong, and they were trained as well as I was. They could lie as well as I did.
So I pushed Bob deeper on his skin until I drew blood. “I don't believe you.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Aaron said from behind me. What the hell?
I slowly turned to look at him. “Excuse me?” Maybe it had only been my imagination…
“He’s telling the truth,” Aaron repeated and met my eyes. He no longer looked like he wanted to kill everything that moved. He was back to his normal self—relaxed, even.
Will you ever cease to surprise me?
“What are you, a lie detector now?” I said. “He’s lying! This is exactly what they do.”
“Check my left pocket,” Arturo said before I could say anything else. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. I looked down at his navy blue jacket. There was something that looked like a corner of a yellow envelope peeking out of his pocket.
I looked at Aaron, and he nodded before he reached for it. The envelope was stained with dark red. Blood. Arturo still had his eyes closed. Shit. Could he have been telling the truth?
Reluctantly, I made myself step back and let him go. Even if he was lying, there was nothing he could do to us anyway. No matter how strong he was, Aaron was just as strong, and I had Bob in my hand. I also really did not want to die, despite the mess I called my life.
I put my hands in Arturo’s pockets shamelessly and then checked his ankles, too. I walked behind him and checked his waistband. Nothing was hidden on his person. I kept my eyes on him and watched him rub his now red neck, never opening his eyes. Like he was terrified of looking.
I slowly took the blood-stained envelope from Aaron’s hand and looked inside. A nasty stink filled my nostrils immediately. A pinky finger was in it. A fucking pinky!
Aaron turned his head to the other side while I analyzed the wrinkled finger. It was a neat cut, straight and fast. It probably hadn't hurt that much, but I doubted Arturo would want to hear it. There really wasn't much more to see so I closed the envelope and handed it back to him. He reluctantly put it back inside his pocket, keeping his eyes down.
“Who is he?” Aaron whispered in my ear and sent chills down my spine.
“We’ll be right back,” I said to Arturo. “Don't try anything funny. I’m not going to give you a second chance,” I added and turned away when he nodded.
Aaron followed me and closed the door to my bedroom with Arturo inside. It really felt like I wasn't myself for wanting to talk to Aaron about this, but I was too confused. And he seemed to always be right, so why not give it a try?
We stepped into the glass-filled kitchen, and I left the door slightly ajar. I would feel it if Arturo left my bedroom, but it never hurt to make sure.
“I don't trust him,” I said to Aaron as soon as I was sure we wouldn’t be heard.
“He’s telling the truth,” he said for the third time, igniting my curiosity even further.
“How the hell do you know?”
He shrugged. “Lucky guess. And his face. No one is that good an actor,” Aaron said, but there was obviously something more to it. I was burning inside to know his secret.
“What are you?” I asked him again, but it was more like thinking out loud because I knew he wouldn't answer me. That didn't mean I would stop trying.
“Who is he?” Aaron said as if he hadn’t even heard my question.
“Arturo is a Nephil, a teacher in Lyndor. He trained me for two years.” That was all the details I gave him about my relationship with Arturo. Aaron pressed his lips together, and anger washed over his face. “You still think he’s trustworthy?”
“He might be useful. He could tell us things from the inside.” He was right, we could benefit from this, but…
“He could also be acting. I've known people who can act even better than that.” McGraw. Me.
“He’s not lying. I’m ready to bet on it,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “We take him. They’re probably tracking him right now so we need a spell. We take him back to the hotel and to my dad, and we make him talk. You can't be tracked, and he won’t have the chance to notify the Council if he’s pretending. And if we doubt him for only a second, we kill him.”
I was afraid he was going to say that, but he was right. The information that Arturo could provide for us could be priceless. But I still had my doubts. He had been a Council’s sup all his life. I knew he loved his children more than anything else in the world, but still.
“I’m not sure,” I whispered.
“We can still try. We have nothing to lose,” Aaron said. “It's worth it.”
“Yeah, you would know,” I said skeptically. “But seriously, though, what are you?” I couldn't help myself. I desperately wanted to know what he was hiding from me. I wondered if the others knew. Jack probably did.
“I don't know what you mean, Star. I told you, and you already know. I’m just a shifter.”
I smiled and shook my head.
“Good thing I like a challenge, then.” He gave me one of those half smiles of his before he turned to walk out the door. I followed him, wondering how in the world he could tie my stomach up in knots with just one smile, even in situations like that.
We found Arturo sitting on my destroyed bed with his hands folded in front of him like a good little Nephil. He looked up at Aaron like he was seeing him for the first time.
“Aaron, Arturo. Arturo, Aaron,” I said reluctantly. �
�Now let’s get out of here.”
21
——————————
Arturo didn't say anything the whole way. I studied every inch of him, and every now and then he would meet my eyes for a second, then look down at his feet again. It was very confusing to see him like that. I needed details about everything that had happened to him, about how he’d managed to escape Lyndor and fly to Chicago. He looked like he was in pain, and anyone else would probably give him the night off, but I didn't have time for that.
It was already six when we entered the hotel again. The receptionist greeted us, and was it my imagination, or did she give Aaron extra attention?
It looked like it, and my desire to break her nose confirmed it, too. She wasn’t that pretty, either.
“I'll need a second to talk to my father. He’ll probably flip if he just sees him walk in the door,” Aaron said as we walked up the stairs.
“I will be with him in my room,” I said, which was right across from Aaron and his dad.
Aaron looked at Arturo suspiciously, but the Nephil either didn't notice, or he came straight out of Hollywood. When we entered my room, I dropped my jacket on the bed and checked my phone, but even Kyle needed more than a few hours to come up with information about everything that I had dropped in his lap.
Arturo sat on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees. I was getting impatient. What we were doing was very dangerous. He was being tracked, that was for sure, and I didn't know how long it would take for the Council to send someone for him. So I kept Bob and another small knife on my person and placed my katana on the bed, just to be safer. I also left my senses on, ignoring the vibes of Aaron, his dad and Arturo, and concentrating on the other parts of the building. So far so good.
“They killed Anastasia,” Arturo whispered, although it looked more like he was talking to himself. So I didn't say anything. Silence was bliss. “It's all my fault,” he added after a couple of seconds. I kept silent and looked outside the window of my room. There was nothing I could say to him. I didn't trust him so I couldn't exactly feel bad about him, despite our history. Good thing he didn't say anything else.
Five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. I sensed them before I opened it. Thomas had his head down, and Aaron looked pissed off. I could only imagine the shit his father gave him. But I was glad he was able to convince him. I closed the door and locked it once they stepped inside.
Thomas was looking at Arturo like he was the lowest scum on Earth. The same look he had reserved for me. Arturo met his eyes and again showed no expression, whatsoever. I inhaled deeply.
“Thomas, this is Arturo. As I’m sure Aaron already told you, he needs a spell to keep him under the Council’s radar.”
“I’m not a warlock,” Thomas spit. “I can't put a non-tracking spell on him.”
I looked at Aaron in confusion, but he wouldn’t meet my eyes. A second later, Thomas continued.
“But I might be able to put a confusion spell on him so that they’ll get several signals from him across the country at the same time. It should keep them busy for a while.”
It was clear that he wasn't happy about it but I was thankful that he was doing it. He trusted his son.
“Stand up,” he then said to Arturo, who was still looking down at his hands.
It was so weird seeing him like that. It was like someone else was wearing his skin, but he stood up reluctantly and looked down at Thomas, since he was at least two and a half inches taller.
I had to admire Thomas for his bravery. He put his feelings towards Arturo out there, freely, even though I was pretty sure he knew what Arturo was capable of.
Thomas put his palm on Arturo’s forehead, and Arturo ignored his flinching. He closed his eyes and began to chant words I never knew or wanted to know the meaning of. Spells were tricky things. One wrong word and you could end up blind or deaf or locked up in hell for eternity. I never had the desire to learn spells, even though strong magical creatures could perform them. Of course, not as effectively as warlocks and witches. Spells were like second nature to them.
Finally, two minutes after, Thomas opened his eyes and took a step back.
“You stink,” he told Arturo, and with an angry look Aaron’s way, he opened the door and left.
I couldn't help but giggle a little, and Aaron pressed his lips tightly to keep from doing the same. Arturo didn't seem to mind. I wasn't very comfortable with the spell, but it would have to do, at least until I got some answers out of him.
“Bathroom?” Arturo said, looking down at his clothes. He had heard Thomas’s comment, after all. I pointed to the door on his left, and he made his way inside.
I sat on my bed to try and relax, and I reached for Mom’s picture in my waistband. To my horror, it wasn’t there. Panic made my heart pound in less than a second, when…
“You dropped this.”
Aaron’s voice broke my panic. I looked up to see him leaning against the wall and looking at the picture of my mom in his hand. I exhaled loudly as relief washed over me.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
Aaron nodded. “It seemed important.”
“It's the only one I've got,” I confessed.
“You don't look anything like her,” he said in wonder. I smiled.
“Yeah, but Ella does. She completely takes after Mom.” I took the picture from Aaron’s hand and went to put it in my nightstand drawer.
Arturo came out of the bathroom then. He looked a little better. He’d washed his face, and his hair was a little damp, but away from his face. The face that I once thought was perfection. It was very, very beautiful indeed, but as I looked at him that second, I didn't think it was something to drool over.
It was probably just the situation at hand. And the fact that I didn't trust him. And of course, Aaron was standing right in front of me.
“I imagine this sucks for you, but I need answers, Arturo,” I said, and that got me an angry look from Aaron. Since when was he on his side?
“I understand,” Arturo said with a nod, so I grabbed the wooden chair in front of the work desk and dragged it in front of him.
“I'm going to be honest with you, Arturo. I wouldn't lie if I were you. My friend here is a real walking-and-talking lie detector, as you saw for yourself,” I said, pointing behind me at Aaron. “Did you or did you not know about me?” I asked first.
Arturo shook his head. “I didn’t." I held his eyes for a couple of seconds before I nodded. He seemed sincere, and my lie detector wasn't shouting at me.
“Tell me what happened in details. I want to know what you were asked to do, why you refused, what they said to you and how you managed to escape. Then we can move on to the important stuff.”
Arturo’s eyes were back to his folded hands in front of him, and he reluctantly nodded. He took a deep breath and started.
“A week ago, Seriel came to me and said that she needed my service for something. We were stuck at Lyndor by orders of the Council, and we were not to leave until further notice. They said that it was for safety reasons, but I have another theory,” Arturo started. Seriel was Samayan’s right hand witch. She never dealt personally with anything. She had too many minions at her feet. She looked nothing less than ordinary, with brown hair streaked with gray and blue eyes, but she was the devil herself. She was a very powerful witch, probably more than a hundred years old.
“She said that the Council needed me to perform the Binding Ceremony with someone, but she didn't tell me who. Of course, I said no, that it went against everything Nephilim stood for. I'm not a demon. Possession of any kind is an insult to my very being. I told her that I was sorry, but I wouldn't do it. I didn't even know if I was strong enough, and that they should find someone else.”
He lost me there. I looked back at Aaron to see if he knew something about the Ceremony Arturo was talking about, but he seemed as clueless as I was, so I had to ask.
“What’s the Binding Ceremony?”
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Arturo looked up at me. “Exactly!” he said. “No one’s supposed to know about it but Nephilim. So imagine my surprise when Seriel knew every detail.” He looked frustrated as he rubbed his face furiously.
“Well?” Why wasn’t he continuing?
But Arturo’s eyes were filled with indecision. With a sigh, I gave him a second.
“You need to make up your mind, Arturo. You’re either one of them or not.”
“I am not one of them. They killed my daughter!” he shouted, and for the first time he showed some actual emotion on his face. I smiled.
“Good to know. But if you want revenge, you have to let us in on everything you know. And I mean everything, Arturo. If you really want to get them back for your daughter, then you have to cross to the other side. You have to agree to cooperate with the Red Rebels. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”
I was dying to know what that ceremony was and why I'd never heard of it before. And why the Council wanted to perform it. It just seemed very, very important. I contemplated my options if Arturo said no. He had a confused and insecure look on his face. His unblinking eyes were pinned to his hands, and his jaw was clenching, but I waited. His face looked almost like a dream. I felt like the last time I’d touched his skin had been a century ago and not just two months.
“I'm going to do this. For my Anastasia,” Arturo said what felt like hours later, and he jumped to his feet. He walked around the bed a couple of times before his eyes landed on my jacket.
“You kept it,” he whispered, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing, a ghost of a smile on his face. “I’m glad.”
I could feel Aaron’s eyes on the back of my head, judging me. What? It was a nice jacket! I wasn't going to throw it away just because my ex-fuckbuddy gave it to me.
“The ceremony,” I reminded Arturo.
“The Binding Ceremony is a ritual that only Nephilim can perform. It involves a lot of steel and sharp tips and a lot of blood. Spells spoken in the language of Angels, too. It enables a Nephil to give his body to the binder—the person he binds himself to. The thing about it is that, whatever power the binder has, it doubles. Triples even, depending on their energy. The binding enhances it and gives them the ability to use the Nephil’s body and powers just like they were their own.” Arturo flinched. “It is sick and twisted, and you can imagine why we never speak of it. It is supposed to be a secret that only Nephilim know. The last time a Nephil performed the Binding Ceremony was almost three hundred years ago.”