Transgression

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Transgression Page 13

by Brandy C. Ange


  “Noland warned me that might happen.” Achaia said.

  “Yes, we knew there was a chance they wouldn’t trust you because of your father, but to blatantly call you a spy for Lucifer! To insinuate that your father doesn’t regard you as being of value. I could smack Elder Joash.” Achaia noticed that Yellaina had gone slightly red in the face. “Of course I’d be locked up for about a hundred or so years for that, but it would be worth it!”

  “A hundred years?” Achaia asked.

  “We are immortal Achaia.” Achaia blinked. Of course. It made sense. How else could her father have been alive for thousands, potentially millions of years. But it had never registered with her that she, herself, was immortal.

  “Is it true that my dad sold his soul? When I was a baby?” Achaia swallowed. “That my whole life, he’s been planning to leave me?”

  Yellaina looked sad. “I don’t think anyone can really answer that but him.” She grabbed Achaia’s hand. “I’ve heard so many versions of what happened, but only from people who weren’t there. That’s what you have to keep in mind. Every Nephilim in that room has preconceived notions of what your dad is like. They make up what they think his motivations were. Whether they hate him or idolize him, those stories are going to be inaccurate. None of those people were there.”

  Achaia nodded.

  “And as far as I know, none of them have given him even a hint of a chance to explain.”

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Achaia snorted.

  “No, but it’s true. Most of the Nephilim have had a long time to hold on to this grudge and let it fester in their hearts. Some of them don’t even seem to have hearts left. What they had to begin with boiled away in resentment.”

  “So glad I get to be the manifestation of everything they hate. My dad, humans, all rolled up into one ignorant little package.” Tears were streaming again out of Achaia’s frustration.

  “Achaia, have you ever seen a bomb?” Yellaina asked.

  “What? No! Why?” Achaia asked taken aback by the randomness of Yellaina’s question. The cab driver was now staring at the two of them in his rear-view mirror.

  “They usually come in pretty small packages. But you treat them gingerly unless you want it to blow up. Sometimes I think these Nephilim could learn from new age weaponry.”

  “Are you calling me a bomb?” Achaia cocked an eyebrow.

  “I’m telling you, you’re a force to be reckoned with. Whether they know it or not, whether you know it or not. You’re not a helpless little girl or an ‘ignorant little package’. You’re a bomb. When you go off, you’ll reshape everything we thought we knew.”

  “I was wondering when you were going to join the party,” Luc said jovially as Shael entered a great room with vaulted ceilings held up by massive columns.

  “Greetings,” Shael said morosely.

  “Oh, come now.” Luc smiled. There was a crow sitting on one of his shoulders. He was wearing a pair of black pants, and a long silver tunic over them.

  Shael was reminded of another time, when that was the common dress. Lucifer’s hair shimmered, black with a slight natural curl. The contrast was flattering. His blue eyes were dark and stormy, a sure sign Shael needed to take warning. “No need for bitterness today. Today is a day for celebration! It is a reunion after all!”

  Shael slumped down into a chair covered in fine lush fabrics, but he could still feel the ice beneath them. “Of course. Pardon me.” Shael bowed his head in apology and waved a hand in half-hearted reverence.

  “I have planned quite the soirée,” Luc beamed, waving Shael’s apology aside. “There is, of course, to be a feast. You are hungry I presume?” Shael confirmed with a nod. “Then blood games, and we will finish the night off with some debauchery!” Luc walked over to a bar and poured two glasses of something honey colored. “There is some proof that God is good, in that liquor doesn’t freeze. I guess he still loves me a little?” Luc joked, handing one of the glasses to Shael.

  Shael threw it back, feeling the burn down his throat, and was himself a little grateful for liquor.

  Luc made a reproving “tsk tsk” sound. “You didn’t even wait for the toast!” He took Shael’s glass and refilled it, then handed it back to him.

  Shael lifted his glass in placating expectation.

  “To the Nephilim council!” Luc cheered.

  Shael didn’t catch himself in time to hide his surprise. “The council?”

  “A little birdy has informed me that they have taken in your Achaia, and that somebody has finally told her the truth.” Luc grinned malevolently. “It’s about time someone did, if you ask me.”

  Shael felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. “You’re lying.” He lowered his glass to the arm of his chair.

  Luc looked offended, though it wasn’t in earnest. “Actually, for once, I am not.”

  Shael was flabbergasted, the drink in his hand forgotten. How had this happened? Where was Naphtali?

  “I wonder how much of their hatred she will inherit.” Luc said taking his drink, and refilling his own glass. “What will those human-hating traditionalists do with that,” Luc paused, grimacing, “…abomination.” He threw back another shot. “You know,” he said looking over at Shael, who felt nauseous. “I’ve always been rather fond of abominations. We could always invite her here!” Luc’s face lit up, as if this were a new idea.

  Shael knew the truth. “No,” he said outright. “If you or your demons lay a finger on my daughter—”

  “Relax.” Luc raised a hand to silence Shael. “It was only a suggestion.”

  Tension spread through Shael’s chest. He could see the storm brewing behind Luc’s eyes. Lucifer’s insatiable appetite for winning would not be satisfied with Shael, alone. Shael’s stomach flipped in on itself. He knew Achaia wasn’t safe; not from the council, and not from Luc, and Shael was the one who had opened the door wide for them both.

  Achaia sat on her bed at the hotel, trying to process what all had just happened. She was in some sort of twisted witness protection program, where she was somehow also a suspect of something, and more like a prisoner than a witness. What she was guilty of, she still wasn’t sure. Existing?

  Achaia hadn’t spoken since she got out of the cab. Yellaina had gone down the hall to Amelia and Olivier’s room to await Emile and Noland’s return. Achaia appreciated the privacy, but she still had questions. Questions she didn’t want to ask Yellaina; questions she wasn’t sure Yellaina could answer.

  Laying back, she closed her eyes. She could still see the crowd in the stadium-like room. She pictured the gladiators and lions of the coliseum and cringed. She heard the tap on the door just before it opened. Emile peeked his head inside. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she said waving him in.

  “Holding up?” He sat on the foot of her bed.

  “I guess.” She shrugged, sitting up to sit with her legs crisscrossed, facing him. “What just happened?” She asked rhetorically, dazed.

  “Well, that didn’t really go the way we’d hoped.” Emile frowned. “I think Jacob had hoped they would be a little more open minded.”

  Achaia cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, that would’ve been nice.”

  Emile smiled sympathetically, putting a hand on her knee and squeezing it lightly. “I know, from where you sat, it looked bad.” Achaia gaped at him.

  “Okay, it was bad.” Emile cocked his eyebrows and nodded. “But, you couldn’t see the Nephilim in the stands. I think a lot of them believed you.” He looked hopeful. “At least they wanted to.” He rubbed her knee comfortingly. “Not all of them hold your father’s sins against you.”

  “Ah, the silver lining.” Achaia said sarcastically.

  Emile took one of her hands out of her lap and held it. “You may not see it now, but you will before the end.” Emile smiled, looking her in the eye.

  His eyes were a deep blue that looked almost purple. They matched the area beneath them that looked bruised from exhaustion.


  “That sounds hopefully ominous.” Achaia smiled, squeezing his hand back.

  “You’ll learn soon enough Achaia. That’s all the future really is.” He looked down at their hands. Where he rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb.

  The door opened again and Noland stepped through. He took a look at Emile, which seemed to serve as a silent conversation between the two. Then he took note of their hands, clasped on Achaia’s lap.

  “So, we have the afternoon. We leave in the morning.” He said shortly.

  “For Russia?” Achaia asked, sitting up a little straighter. Emile’s thumb stopped moving, and his hand eased its grip on hers.

  Noland nodded waving what looked like plane tickets.

  “You know, when I imagined backpacking through Europe, this isn’t really what I had in mind.” Achaia tried to keep her voice casual, but disappointment was evident.

  Emile grinned sympathetically and gave her hand one final squeeze before letting it go and turning around to fully face the door.

  “Can we join the party?” Olivier arrived in the doorway, Amelia and Yellaina behind him.

  “Come on in.” Achaia said sitting up.

  “How about you come on out?” Olivier smiled. “From what I hear, we have the afternoon.” He looked at Noland, whose jaw tightened. “Come on. When is she going to be in Italy again? Let’s do the tourist thing!”

  Achaia wasn’t sure if she felt up to sightseeing, but if the alternative was sitting in this room replaying the morning over in her head, she’d opt for the distraction.

  “At least the Trevi,” Emile gave her an encouraging smile.

  Noland shook his head from side to side. “Our first priority is protecting Achaia, not tossing coins in a fountain.”

  “We don’t even know for sure if Luc is after her!” Olivier interjected.

  “Yeah, well better safe than sorry,” Noland said. “And at the very least, there is a city full of Nephilim who would be less than pleased to see her gallivanting around town like she’s on holiday.”

  “Come on! You can’t deny the girl the Trevi! Be human, man!” Olivier joked to lighten the mood that Noland had a habit of making rather bleak. He winked at Achaia, and Yellaina giggled. Emile cracked a grin, staring Noland down.

  Noland frowned, his brow furrowed. He was outnumbered. “Sorry, not sorry. Not human…” he said, stone faced. Achaia wondered if that had been his idea of a joke, or if he was being serious. She sat silently, trying to predict if Noland would crack.

  Finally Noland broke eye-contact with Emile and looked over at Achaia. She met his gaze with a blank stare. She knew the decision was his, and she wasn’t sure there was anything she could say or do to persuade him if his mind was made up. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Fine, for a few hours,” he decreed.

  Yellaina clapped her hands together with a little jump of excitement. She rambled off something in Italian that no one else understood, and Noland rolled his eyes.

  “Okay, ground rules.” Noland began, warranting a heavy sigh out of Olivier. “For all we know Luc is out there with his sights on Achaia. We have to assume the worst. Be on your guard, stick together.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Olivier said waving a dismissive hand. “So, where to, first? The Coliseum?”

  Achaia glanced at Emile whose smile wavered. “I think I’ll skip the Coliseum actually,” She winced.

  “She probably feels like she’s seen that one already,” Emile said frowning.

  “The Trevi then!” Olivier decided.

  Achaia raised her eyebrows in agreement and nodded. “Yeah. And,” she smirked. “Can we stop somewhere for gelato?”

  “It’s thirty-something degrees outside.” Noland said in disbelief.

  Achaia shrugged.

  “When in Roma!” Yellaina smiled.

  The cab driver dropped them off on the side of the road next to a low half wall. Achaia looked around she saw buildings and alley ways, but no big fountain. “Maybe the driver didn’t understand?”

  “No, the Trevi is just off in its own little square. We’ll have to walk from here.” Emile smiled down at her. He swept his hand forward, and led her with his other hand on her back.

  Achaia pulled her coat a little tighter. Out in the open, the breeze was still cold. She followed the others down a crowded little side street that, at first, looked like an alley-way with cars parked in random places. Not far into the street she noticed there were little shops along the sidewalk, even a gelato shop. “Can we go in there?” Achaia asked Emile.

  Noland shook his head in disbelief.

  “You can’t go to Italy and not try gelato.” Emile defended her. “Come on,” he said leading her into the shop with the hand that was still along her back. Yellaina and Olivier followed while Amelia stood outside with Noland, both looking sullen.

  Olivier and Yellaina split a lemon flavored gelato, it was both of their favorite. But Achaia was too in shock looking around at all the flavors.

  Under a glass counter there were at least thirty flavors. For some reason she had been expecting vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry. “Is he always such a stick in the mud?” Achaia asked looking out the window. “They make a good pair.” She added laughing at the nearly identical body language of Noland and Amelia impatiently tapping their feet outside.

  “Are you kidding? The world wouldn’t survive their union.” Emile laughed. “They would kill each other and take everyone else with them.”

  “Will you split one with me?” Achaia asked looking from the case up at Emile.

  “Sure, what flavor do you want?” He asked leaning over the glass with her.

  “What’s your favorite?” Achaia asked, still overwhelmed by the options.

  “I’ve always been a mango man myself, but the mint chocolate chip isn’t bad either.”

  “Both sound good to me.” Achaia said scanning the top of the counter for a sample spoon.

  “One scoop of each then?” Emile suggested.

  “Sure.”

  Emile ordered the gelato and got a big paper bowl from the lady behind the counter. There was one large scoop of mango and one large scoop of mint chocolate chip next to it. The two melted together to make a muddy looking slide. “I think we should eat it before it melts, I don’t think they’d be as good together.” The two of them sat down at a table with Olivier and Yellaina, Achaia could see Amelia and Noland standing just outside the window. He looked more annoyed than before, and turned his back to them, apparently watching the people on the street.

  Achaia and Emile made a mess of splitting their gelato, and by the end were both wearing a fair amount. They wiped their coats with napkins and made their way out of the shop laughing with Olivier and Yellaina. Emile had been right, both flavors were good, but not so much together.

  “Finally.” Noland said as they caught up with him at the corner of the street. Achaia couldn’t help but notice that he seemed more than annoyed, he seemed downright agitated.

  What is the big deal? She thought to herself.

  Emile looked concerned as he caught hold of Noland’s eye. “Here.” He said taking a coin out of his pocket and handing it to Achaia, “go make a wish.” Achaia realizing that he wanted to be left alone with Noland, took the coin and headed to the fountain with the others.

  Emile knew he needed to tread carefully, Noland was more than pissed. “Hey, I know what you’re feeling, but I don’t understand why.” Emile said softly as Noland stood with his arms tightly crossed over his chest.

  “Are you sure you don’t?” Noland said, his jaw tightening.

  “I have a few suspicions– I can only read your emotions, not your mind.” Emile said defensively. “I can’t tell why you feel what you feel. So if you have a problem with me, I need you to spit it out.” Emile thought it best to be blunt. When Noland said nothing he went on. “From what I can feel, you are angry about us not following your lead. You wanted to stay at the hotel, we wanted to sightsee—” Noland rolled
his eyes.

  Emile knew he hadn’t hit the nail yet, so he kept going. “You’re not used to us not doing what you want, and Achaia never seems to do what you want. She drives you a little nuts.”

  Noland laughed, a frustrated sounding scoff.

  “But also, knowing you,” Emile continued, “I have to think that’s not what has you so mad, and not what has you so mad at me.”

  “I’d say you’re right.” Noland mumbled. “About that last part.”

  “Okay, so my observations would tell me that you are jealous whenever I am around Achaia, but from what I feel from you, you don’t know anything so I don’t understand why you are angry.”

  “Neither do I,” Noland said a little louder.

  “I thought I was getting some frustration in there, but I thought it was at me.” Emile said looking around the square, neither of them seemed to want to look at each other.

  “No, I just–” Noland broke off. The two of them watched silently as Achaia tossed her coin in the fountain. She turned smiling at Oliver, talking cheerfully.

  “Curiosity,” Emile mused, “you want to know what she wished for–”

  Noland looked at him, his green eyes guarded.

  Emile was used to Noland confiding in him… Emile took a deep breath and felt a stone drop in his stomach. He knew that humans fought about this stuff all the time. He had always thought it was silly, but he knew how it felt for them. Now he was feeling it for himself. It sucked. “Bros before hoes… That’s what they say right?”

  Noland flinched at the word hoes. Clearly Emile’s casual tone wasn’t easing the tension.

  “Well until either of us know anything, don’t let this be a thing. Okay?” Emile said getting a little frustrated himself. Emile walked down the stairs toward the fountain where Achaia sat on the wall looking into the water.

  Achaia stared at her coin, laying amongst the rest and wondered how many of the other wishes had come true. Would hers be among the successful coins, or would hers be a disgrace amongst the ranks.

  “Hey.” Emile had appeared next to her on the wall of the fountain.

 

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