Atlas (The Atlas Series)

by Becca C. Smith

  Kala froze.

  Tricked Hercules into taking his burden!!

  Kala suddenly knew that the Hercules story was actually the truth. Sure, she knew Hercules probably wasn’t real, or honestly, she couldn’t really say that with confidence anymore, but that must have been the moment Atlas was set free. Hercules may have been Zeus’s son, but he was also half human, which meant Atlas tricked a mortal into doing his job.

  After her two hours were up, Kala felt like she knew a little more about Greek mythology than she did before, but she still felt way out of her depth. She had fiddled around looking up what she could on Hercules, but mostly it was stories about his bravery and valor. It said he tricked Atlas back into taking the pillars again. If that were true, maybe it meant that Hercules was the first to shove Atlas’s job back in his face. Maybe Atlas tricked a full-blown human after that. Kala had no idea, and no one to ask. Everything was just one big guess at this point.

  Throwing her bag over her shoulder, Kala left the café and made sure she kept her hat down, hiding her face from any cameras that might be above her. It was weird hiding from the people she trusted most. The Ops team had been her family and as far as she was concerned they still were, but Clifton had it out for her. Talk about pissing off the wrong guy. Kala felt that she was a pawn thrown into the middle of a fight between Turner and Clifton, but either way, the most elite force in the government and probably the world now had her face as enemy number one. The person who assassinated the President.

  The worst mistake she ever made.

  “Kala Hicks?” A man’s voice sounded behind her.

  Kala kept walking. She didn’t respond or react. Kala hoped that maybe whoever it was would think they confused her with someone else. A part of her was curious as to who called out her name. If it was one of Clifton’s guys, she’d be captured already, or at least, in the process of trying to be captured. It had to be someone from her past who honestly thought they were reuniting with a friend.

  As if from thin air, a man stepped in front of Kala. “I’ve been looking for you,” he snarled.

  And Kala recognized him right away.

  It was the Malak, Grautlin.

  Kala switched into military-mode. He was a Malak — he’d be too fast if he saw her going for the gun, so she tried distraction. “How did you find me?”

  Grautlin seemed very impressed with himself. “Security camera in the café. You can’t disguise yourself from a Malak.”

  Kala pretended to act scared. She pretended to cry dramatically, covering her face with her hands. Anything to disguise what she was about to do.

  “You’re pathetic,” Grautlin sneered. “I’ll enjoy killing you.”

  Before Grautlin could move, Kala had her gun out of the holster and shoved into Grautlin’s stomach. She pulled the trigger and recited the words from the spell.

  Grautlin shrieked, holding his head in pain.

  Kala ran.

  She didn’t know how long the spell would last.

  Kala was just relieved that it had worked at all! And on a Malak!

  While she ran Kala reached in her bag and pulled out another ooze-vial, loading it onto the gun. Knowing that Grautlin would do anything in his power not to let her have another chance to inject him, Kala kept the gun out and ready.

  Kala cursed all surveillance cameras and hoped that Clifton’s face recognition software wasn’t as advanced as the Malaks’ ability to spot her.

  Grautlin’s screams from behind her stopped abruptly.

  Kala shoved her way past people walking down the sidewalk, ignoring their stares of suspicion and fear.

  Grautlin popped up in front of her, reaching for her neck to snap.

  On instinct, Kala canted the levitation words she had memorized and to her amazement made a garbage can lift off the ground and smash into Grautlin. She knew she didn’t have time to inject him again, so she ran as fast as she could down the street and into a nearby alley.

  Kala’s adrenaline was pumping fast and she realized she was running aimlessly. Where did she think she was going? Where could she run? A part of her was impressed with herself that she’d managed to levitate the garbage can so easily. Maybe she did have a knack for magic. It excited her a bit.

  Just as Kala turned the corner, Grautlin appeared and roared in anger.

  “I would kill you slowly if I had my choice,” the Malak raged.

  “You could try.” Kala leapt to a set of fire escape stairs on the side of the alley. She was halfway up the second flight of stairs when Grautlin materialized in front of her.

  Kala groaned in frustration. “I hate that trick.” She injected Grautlin again, but before she could finish the spell, he backhanded her off the fire escape.

  Waiting for the inevitable impact of the cement lasted longer than Kala expected. Just before she reached bottom, it was as if a force of wind slowed her fall. She landed on the ground with a light thump.

  Looking around for whatever or whomever had cushioned her landing, Kala laid eyes on a man entering the alley.

  Grautlin saw him too and screamed in fury. “She’s mine, Malak!”

  Great, another Malak. Kala had had enough of the supposed “good guys” trying to kill her.

  But the man didn’t make any sudden moves toward her, he just stared at Grautlin with anger. “Leave, Grautlin, before you regret it,” the man warned.

  “Who are you?” Grautlin didn’t look worried at this stranger’s threats in the least.

  “It doesn’t matter,” the man said calmly. “Leave the girl and live.”

  Kala suddenly felt like she was standing in the middle of an old-style western gun fight.

  She took it as a cue and made a run for the opposite exit.

  Grautlin materialized in front of Kala so suddenly she almost smacked into him. She managed to stop herself just inches from Grautlin’s body.

  “Time to die,” he grinned.

  And that’s exactly what happened.

  BOOM!

  Grautlin’s body exploded in front of Kala.

  She waited for the splattering of Angel guts to hit her, but in a large POOF there was no evidence that Grautlin ever existed.

  Instinct took over. Kala whirled around to face the stranger who stood there like the Angel of Death. The fact that this Malak had just obliterated one of his own kind scared Kala in a way she couldn’t describe. Not even Asmodeus had that kind of power and he was the King of the Demons.

  And if this stranger could do that to a Malak, Kala knew she was a dead woman.

  But Kala was a fighter. She focused on the dumpster next to her, levitation spell already on her lips. Before she could utter a syllable, however, the Malak lifted his finger and placed it on her mouth. Kala tried to say the words of the spell, but nothing came out. A surge of panic ran through her: this man had taken away her ability to speak. Her only defense against the supernatural taken in one touch. She was beyond furious, she was terrified.

  “Relax,” the Angel said softly, calmly. “I’ll give you back your voice. I just need to talk to you before you attack me with a dumpster,” he said with a slight smile.

  Kala was close enough to shoot. She placed the gun on his chest and was about to pull the trigger when the gun dissolved in her hand. Within seconds her whole defense system was literally dust blowing in the wind. Just like Grautlin.

  It took Kala a few seconds to gain her bearings. In this new life of hers she figured she’d listen to anyone who had more power while she quietly devised a plan of escape. First goal: get her voice back. She nodded and tried to look as defeated as possible so he would think she was ready to listen.

  Although under normal circumstances it would be quite easy to listen to the Malak standing before her. He was very attractive with short light brown hair in a messy-sexy-swoop, blue eyes and bone structure for days. He was wearing a black, tight-fitted biker jacket with a white t-shirt and jeans. Supermodel anyone?

  Why did Malaks and Demons have to be
so freakin’ gorgeous! Supreme beings, Kala guessed, but it still annoyed her. Couldn’t the bad guys be ugly or something, so she could at least tell them apart from the good guys?

  The man gave her a look that suggested he wasn’t buying her supplication for a second. Instead of being angry, though, he looked amused. “I think I’m going to explain myself first before I give you your voice back. I don’t trust you… yet.”

  The way he said yet made Kala pause.

  Things that she knew: A. He’d just saved her life. Maybe he did this to become the next Atlas himself, but he did it all the same. B. He hadn’t actually tried to kill her and at this point, having taken her voice, he could so very easily. C. If he wanted to teleport her to some dungeon to kill her there, he could have done it a hundred times over by now.

  Kala really did want to hear what this creature had to say. It was easier calling him a creature, it made his good looks feel more unnatural and less attractive.

  Trying not to have too much snark, Kala waved her hand in front of her gesturing her impatience as if to say, Get on with it.

  The man smiled, enjoying Kala’s attitude. “Let’s go somewhere less… public.”

  Kala didn’t like the sound of going anywhere with this guy, though she did agree that being in an alley near a busy street left her vulnerable to Clifton, and apparently the forces of Demons and Angels as well. She didn’t have much choice anyway, though, as the man touched her arm and Kala’s surroundings blurred in front of her eyes.

  Everything came back into focus as Kala and the man materialized in a small apartment overlooking the Capitol Building, with the Washington Monument in the distance. Kala quickly did the math and realized they were somewhere in the Capitol Hill area. She was relieved that they were still in D.C., but Kala really hated this whole teleporting business. Travel of any kind made Kala a little squeamish, but teleporting made her downright nauseous. She would have given this guy a piece of her mind, but as she couldn’t speak she simply plopped down on the brown linen couch that was resting against the far wall.

  The apartment was a studio with a small kitchenette, hardwood floors, a couch, matching recliner chair and a ginormous flat screen television, at least sixty inches, maybe bigger. What a Malak needed with a TV Kala had no idea, but she wasn’t in a position to fault the guy for it. It only reminded her of the fact that she’d never be able to watch television again without seeing herself murder Jack on repeat. A thought that was extremely depressing.

  Kala noticed that there wasn’t a bed, not even a mattress. She guessed the supernatural didn’t need to sleep. The more information the better, she shrugged.

  Kala gave the man a look that suggested she wasn’t playing anymore. If she could have put words to it, she would have said, Speak or die, asshole.

  The stranger got the message, though he didn’t appear threatened at all by Kala, she noticed with irritation. He took off his jacket and laid it on the back of the recliner as he sat down across from Kala. “Sorry about the theatrics and the teleporting. I can see your face is a beautiful tinge of green,” he started in a friendly tone.

  For some reason this annoyed Kala even more. She raised one of her eyebrows and gave him the stink eye while crossing her arms in a huff.

  He continued, “I’m going to give you your voice back, but if you try any spells I’ll have to block you again. Understand?”

  Kala nodded, though she felt like she was being addressed like a four-year-old. To be fair, Kala figured that this guy was probably thousands of years old while Kala was only a speck of dust on the map of time to him.

  A fuzzy rushed sensation flowed through her chest and Kala cleared her throat, relieved to hear sound. “What do you want with me?” Thought she’d get that out of the way first.

  “I’m what humans call an Angel,” he responded. He reminded Kala of her fifth grade science teacher in the way he answered so patiently, like if he was clear and concise enough, Kala wouldn’t get behind in the conversation.

  “I thought you guys were called Malaks.” Kala uncrossed her arms and sighed. She hated being in situations that she couldn’t control. She was tempted to ignore his threat of voice control by making the recliner flip him backwards, but Kala knew he’d stop her in mid-sentence. A new trick she couldn’t even use.

  Awesome.

  The man shook his head. “I’m a different kind of Angel. Malaks want you dead. Grautlin was a Malak, I’m not.”

  Kala shrugged then nodded. “But you’re both Angels?”

  “I’m of a different order, the Grigori. We were sent down to teach humans how to be civilized back when you were barely above the ape-stage of your existence, but the powers-that-be decided we were over-stepping our bounds and banished us from earth.”

  “Over-stepping?” Kala was curious. Up until now history lessons had been bore to her, but lately, history lessons meant ammunition for future death matches. Not to be too dramatic, but that’s how it felt to Kala.

  “We were supposed to start you humans with the basics — fire, cooking, hunting — but we saw the raw potential in you. We began showing you magic, science, technology, and you soaked it up like you were born to it.” The stranger lit up with the memory, making Kala realize he was probably one of the actual Grigori that existed back then.

  How old did that make him? Kala would have to look up the Grigori on the Internet since her historical-fact knowledge was spotty. But one word stuck out to her more than the others. “Magic?” she asked.

  The man smiled. “Yes. Much more advanced than the primitive stuff you practice, though. The woman you trained with is the best I’ve ever seen, but she only scratched the surface when teaching you.”

  “It was only one night, geez.” Kala found that she was a little defensive at being called primitive. Levitating crap and throwing it at people was quite impressive in her book.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you. I just meant I can teach you much more.” He seemed genuinely polite about the whole thing.

  “Who are you anyway?” Kala became conscious of the fact that she didn’t know this Grigori Angel guy’s name.

  “I apologize. My name is Talan.”

  “Of course it is.” Kala smirked. Talan? Talk about your romance novel name. The fact that he had the looks to back it up only made it more absurd.

  “I fail to see why you think my name is obvious.” Talan stared at Kala with a curiosity that made her feel uncomfortable.

  “Why am I here?” Kala changed the subject.

  “I’m here to help you carry out your mission. This is the third day and you’re running out of time.” Talan’s blue eyes looked at her intensely.

  “I don’t need your help. I can do it just fine on my own.” Kala skirted the issue that she wasn’t planning on carrying out any mission.

  “You’re lying,” Talan said matter-of-factly. “You don’t want to do what you were shown.”

  Kala didn’t answer, which she realized only confirmed Talan’s statement.

  He laughed. “It’s understandable, Kala. Not a single Atlas has ever wanted to complete a mission. The first one is always the hardest, but they do get easier.”

  Kala’s defenses kicked in big time. She stood up in a huff. “What would you know about it? Were you ever an Atlas?”

  Talan stood up with her, but his demeanor was calm, comforting. He placed his hand on Kala’s arm to steady her.

  Kala did not want to be touched, especially from this guy. She shrugged his hand off and stepped away from the couch. She would have made a break for it if she didn’t know that Talan could easily find her and bring her right back.

  “How did you find me anyway? I thought that anti-tracker made it impossible for your kind to find me. It worked on Asmodeus anyway.” Again with the changing subjects, Kala was good at that.

  “The same way Grautlin did, the café surveillance tape,” he said.

  Kala groaned. She’d have to steer clear of all civilization at this point!


  Talan continued, “And the anti-tracker does work. The Turner family is very powerful. They are much more advanced than most humans, him with his science and her with the magic. The supernatural world has no idea how far the Turners have come and it’ll be too late to do anything about it by the time they figure it out.” Talan almost seemed proud of Turner and Roberta, like they had reached some level of nirvana that he was somehow responsible for. Like a proud teacher…

  “You’ve been showing them! You said yourself that you Grigori guys got in trouble for teaching magic and science. You’ve been sneaking in some tutoring behind the collective Demon and Angels’ asses!” Kala knew she was right and everything made total sense. “The Turners have no idea what you are though, do they?”

  Talan didn’t deny Kala’s accusations, he only confirmed them by saying, “To Roberta I come as an older Cajun man and master of Voodoo. To Turner I’m one of his top scientists. But they have such raw talent on their own! It will take them far.”

  Talan’s eyes were proud as he added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up ruling the world someday.”

  Kala shrugged. “It wouldn’t be such a bad world if they did. So far, they’ve helped me more than I could have ever imagined. And maybe they could…” she didn’t finish her thought.

  But Talan did, “Maybe they could fix what you destroy when you don’t complete your Atlas mission?”

  Kala’s eyes met Talan’s, and she knew she’d given herself away in one look. That’s exactly what she was going to say.

  Talan stepped toward her again. This time Kala didn’t pull away. He touched her arm gently, his eyes were big round blue abysses of intensity as he looked at her. Kala was attracted to him, though she hated herself for it. Though he looked human, there was something unnaturally beautiful about him.

  Maybe the fact that he’s an Angel? Kala chastised herself.

  “Tell me what you have to do,” Talan asked calmly.

  They were so close at this point it was making Kala aware of Talan’s body heat, radiating off of him like a freaking space heater. It was the first time since meeting Jack that Kala physically felt this kind of chemistry, and she didn’t like it.