Fire & Shadows

by Rochelle Maya Callen

Giovanni almost rolled his eyes at me, but the expression on my face must have caught him off guard because he simply nodded and said a flat, “Fine.”

  I rolled up my blanket and stuffed it into my bag. As Giovanni knelt down to get one of my things, I saw a glimmer of something in his pocket.

  “What’s that?”

  He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What’s what?”

  “That shiny thing in your pocket.”

  Giovanni dropped my bag and his hand jabbed into his pocket as if to check it was still there, and to make sure it was deep within and unseen.

  I stared at him. “Well...what—”

  “You ask way too many questions.” He turned his back to me and finished gathering up our things. Too many questions? Based on all that had happened in the past few months, I felt I was entitled to my questions. The shimmer in his pocket looked like a memory. It was obviously a memory that mattered to him, one that he clung to, one that he wouldn’t share. I exhaled as I followed him a few strides as we left our makeshift camp behind.

  “So what direction do we head?” I asked, grabbing my things from his hand.

  I looked at Giovanni expecting to see his careful, steady expression. Instead, he blinked.

  I blinked right back at him. “You do know where we need to go, right?”

  “I haven’t been navigating. I’ve been training.”

  “What?” I nearly yelled at him, but held my calm just in case the flying demons were still within earshot. “All this walking and you don’t know what direction we need to go?”

  “I am an angel. How am I supposed to know where the pit of Hell is?” he said evenly, but it was obvious that he was flustered and unfamiliar with uncertainty. It was also obvious he didn’t like it.

  “I can’t believe it......I—”

  “I am not the child of Hell. Why don’t you figure it out!” he snapped, his nostrils flaring, eyes blazing.

  Child of Hell. He had said it. Said it with the disgust and ferocity that it deserved. I couldn’t respond. The words crept in and slashed through my insides. I stoically controlled my features, forcing them into a blank expression. He couldn’t see how his words were like tiny knives tearing me apart. He couldn’t see my tears chase my shame down my face. I just turned my back on him and walked away, uncaring if he followed or not. I shut off my mind, pushed aside my feelings, and walked in the dark.

  10

  CONNOR

  “WHAT THE HELL, man? Are you serious?” Matt looked at me in his strange, scrunched up way.

  I sat on the edge of my bed, fiddling with my shoelace-less sneakers. “Yeah, I’m serious.” I hadn’t expected him to be able to take the news easily. In fact, I was pretty floored he hadn’t run out of the house screaming and flailing his arms around like some crazed chicken, but right after I told him everything, and I mean everything about Jade and I, and well, the world, Matt’s face was a hot mess of freaked out.

  “So, you didn’t just go all Romeo and try to kill yourself when Jade stepped out?” The one thing I did appreciate about Matt was that the whole time I told him the story, even with the nitty-gritty details, he didn’t once roll his eyes or give me a skeptical eyebrow raise. His eyes just got wider, his blinking faster, and his wheezing sound just a bit more hurried. He pulled out an inhaler and took a long drag.

  “So, we’re on the brink of the freakin’ apocalypse? That is what you are telling me?”

  I felt stupid when he said it like that. I hadn’t used the word “apocalypse” but that was exactly what I was saying.

  We were silent for a second.

  “Well, that blows,” Matt said.

  I peered up on him and was surprised that his freaked-out face had turned into a pissed off one, but I was even more surprised with what he asked next, “So, what do we do?”

  “I—I am not exactly sure.”

  Matt’s exasperated sigh was like a punch to the gut.

  I tried to be quick. “I don’t know, but I do know that if we can translate these, we could get some answers. I do know we can figure it out.”

  Matt eyed the stacks of old scrolls precariously balanced on my bed. “You want us to translate those? All of them? The ones your dad spent months trying to decipher? What if the world blows up tomorrow? I don’t want to waste it being locked up in here with you, reading some Goddamned papers. If we are all about to be splat on the universe’s windshield, I need to convince Denise to put out because there is no freakin’ way I am going to die a virgin.”

  The boy was dead serious. I forgot that Matt and Denise had started dating after the winter formal. It was hard to imagine Matt having a girlfriend, and it really wasn’t on my to-do list to imagine him doing it with anyone. Yet, he was a lot closer to getting it on than I was. “Do you think I want to die a virgin? It wasn’t in my four-year plan. But this,” I pointed to the scrolls, “this could change that. I don’t think the world is about to go up in flames tomorrow. It seemed like there was this process that needed to be gone through before any real hell-raising starts to go down.”

  Matt didn’t look convinced. “Matt, I am going to ask you straight up. Will you help me with this? I need to know how to find Jade. I need to know how to help her. I need to know how we can stop—all this—from happening.”

  Matt leaned back and took off his glasses. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. “Okay,” he whispered. “I’ll help you.” His eyes snapped open and pinned me to the seat. “But if the world does implode tomorrow and I get no sweet lovin’ before I am ash, I will hold you accountable and roast your ass in Hell.”

  I laughed and extended my hand to him. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  11

  GIOVANNI

  JADE LOOKED UP at me when she reached for my arm. I searched her eyes. I couldn’t find a trace of Hell within them. I searched, searched every fleck of emerald, every tinge of green, but instead of finding proof, I fell into more questions. Questions that nagged at me. I tucked them away, pushed them down within me. Soldiers didn’t ask questions. They executed missions. I let the green-eyed girl, with her gentle warm touch, lead me into the back room. Her movements were graceful, like the flutter of bird wings or the shine off a blade. When she let me go, my hand went to the spot on my arm where she had held it. My eyes flicked up to see Lynx watching me with a careful gaze. I lowered my hand to the blade at my waist. “Well, I guess there are bits of the truth in the rumors.” I looked at Lynx and his steady gaze didn’t flinch.

  “Enlighten me,” Lynx said evenly.

  “You left Heaven in pursuit of a personal mission. You found your way into Hell. You took the Demon Queen’s daughter. And, you brought her into the mortal world.” I pulled the blade from my waist. “Tell me why I shouldn’t bring you for Judgment.”

  “Because,” Lynx let out a breath, “I won’t let you.”

  I laughed, “You, a chosen half-breed, think you can out run or fight an angel?”

  “No,” Lynx replied, his voice steady. “I don’t think. I know.”

  Rage tore through me. I lifted my blade and squared it between his eyes. I wasn’t supposed to hurt Lynx, just bring him home. But my temper was always an unstable thing, as it was with most Seraphim. Anger ran hot through our cores, like a pulse. Lynx didn’t step back or flail; he stood watching me.

  I didn’t back down. I was trained on my target.

  A voice beside my cheek startled me. “Please, please, don’t do that.” Her voice was a whisper, the heat of her breath a caress on my cheek. “Please...” Her hand grazed my shoulder, down my arm to my hand on the hilt. She held it, her small hand atop mine. I could feel a shiver ripple through me, and with it my hand trembled only slightly. I swallowed hard, averting my eyes from hers. She traced the length of the blade with a fingertip and left blood on silver. With one arm, she pushed Lynx behind her and settled the blade’s point below her collarbone. My eyes fell to the blade point and then to the delicate flesh of her chest. Protect? She w
as protecting Lynx? What kind of pact or promise could be made between these two? It was the way her voice spoke next that had me lowering my blade, swallowing down shame for yielding, and fear for wanting to.

  “Giovanni.” It was a breathy, weightless sound. Her voice sounded as sweet as her breath on my cheek. It was then that I sheathed my blade. I never took it out in anger against either of them again.

  That was so long ago.

  “Jade?” I spoke her name quietly, but every time I said it, I knew that the urgency within my voice escalated. I hated the way it sounded: desperate. She didn’t answer me. She just climbed over rocks and hiked for miles. Never stopping to rest, never stopping to look back and respond to me. How I would love to hear that tender voice say my name like she once had. I rolled my shoulders. No. There would be no point in that, I chastised myself. Memories flickered within me and I felt a pang of feeling—feelings I couldn’t quite describe. A collision of shame, anger, and want. I took a shallow breath and pushed the want away, shoving it deep down, but no matter how hard I shoved, I could never tuck it away entirely. It peeked through, taunting me.

  I walked faster. Falling in place beside Jade, I loudly said her name;, she couldn’t fake not hearing me... not this time. I couldn’t go another moment being ignored by her.

  “What?”

  “I—I want to apologize. For what I said.”

  She turned on me, a swift and graceful motion. Her eyes red-rimmed and tired. “You shouldn’t have to apologize for speaking the truth.” She continued walking after ripping her gaze away from me. “I hold no ill will toward you for it. You said exactly what you thought. There is nothing wrong with that,” she said on a sigh, and a quicker step.

  I wanted to bark ‘then why are you ignoring me?’, but that was something only a weak fool would say. What did it matter that she was ignoring me? I was frustrated with myself for letting my anger and uncertainty fuel my words. I had lashed out at her and I felt ashamed that I couldn’t protect her as I once had. I needed answers, and Lynx was possibly the only one who could help me. Helplessness fired through my veins; it was certainly that feeling that made me harsh and ruthless. “I didn’t mean what I said. That is why I am apologizing.”

  Still forging ahead, Jade responded, “How could you not mean what you said? I am the daughter of Hell. I am vile. I am not a fighter, as you would like. I have no memory that is useful—”

  “Well, you really don’t have much memory at all...”

  She glared at me. I didn’t know why I thought that somehow having no memory and having no useless memory was somehow better. “I mean...you can’t blame yourself for not remembering.”

  She was quiet, walking in a slower, contemplative stride. “I wish I had something.”

  My hand fell against my side and the lump in my pocket. There was a bit of her something in my pocket... but it was also useless. A memory connected with feelings she obviously no longer had. At least not with me. “We will figure it out. We will find Lynx.”

  “Giovanni...” It was the first time she said my name in hours. I stopped abruptly to lock my gaze with hers. Her eyes were etched with concern, with doubt. “What if we don’t?”

  “That,” I said, rolling my shoulders back, assuming the position of commanding officer, “isn’t an option.”

  12

  NANAN

  NANAN SLOWLY WOVE through the crypts looking for the right one. The cemetery had bedraggled weeds reaching up and trying to trip her, the stones had begun to fade and discolor, but she knew one would still be thrumming with life, with energy, with answers.

  She heard the chanting thick in the breeze before she reached the right crypt. No one else would hear it; no one who didn’t really believe that she was still tethered to her crypt waiting to offer guidance and compassion to those who knew how to reach her. Marie Laveau, the Queen of Voodoo. She was the one chanting to rouse the other Spirits; she was the one who could sense Nanan coming.

  Marie Laveau did not like to be summoned when a person’s intentions were impure. That is probably why when Nanan and her Momma came all those years ago, Nanan hiding in the shadow of another tombstone, that the Queen of Voodoo spat at her momma and cursed her, chasing her away with gusts of air and howling screams. Nanan was afraid of the cemetery after that. She’d screamed at the town pastor when they buried her sister in one. Nanan was sure that her sister would be all alone haunting the grey stones, unable to leave.

  Now, Nanan knew better; her sister’s soul had moved on. Nanan used to go and call for her every Sunday instead of going to Church. She never called back, and when Nanan moved away, she felt reassured that her sister had found her peace.

  With time, Nanan also knew that Marie Laveau wasn’t an evil woman. No, it was her mother who had brought out the violence in her. Even so, as Nanan stepped to her crypt, she could feel her fingers shake around the black chalk in her hand. Marie Laveau’s chants grew louder, more erratic, a threat. Nanan held fast and drew three Xs in black chalk on the side of her tomb. Taking out a small kitchen knife, Nanan cut her thumb, smearing her blood beneath the lines. Then, just as she saw her momma had done, Nanan knocked three times and held her breath.

  The change in the air was immediate. The air grew frigid; the daylight flipped over into moonlight, and the shadows of the cemetery became living things coalescing around her. Nanan held her breath and clenched her jaw. She would not run. I will not run.

  The shadows twirled in front of her, solidifying into a woman’s shape. Marie Laveau stood before her. She was beautiful and her eyes twinkled like the stars shining above them. She opened her arms wide to receive Nanan. “Oh, lovely woman. I remember you. I remember the ugly one who brought you and how you hid from me. I remember the feeling of your heart. I never meant to hurt you. I have missed you, sweet child.” Marie Laveau looked to be in her 30s, young, vivacious and tinged with the smell of sweet smoke. It was strange having someone who looked so young call her child, but she was right; Nanan had been hiding there with a gnarled soul.

  “I—I am sorry I hid from you,” Nanan said, not stepping from her embrace, but not moving away either.

  “I can sense the need in you, child.” Marie Laveau cocked her head. “I can taste it on your blood offering.”

  “Yes,” Nanan said, now flustered. “There is a girl—a half-breed girl and she’s gone. She—”

  “Half-breed? The daughter of Heaven and Hell has awakened?”

  Nanan blinked, surprised. She hadn’t needed to explain anything. “She’s missing.”

  Marie Laveau shook her head slowly. “A lost soul could easily be devoured by darkness. So easily turned from her humanity. She must be found.”

  “Of course! That is why I have come to you. I am not sure what we can do.”

  Marie’s ebony skin glistened in the moonlight as she looked towards the stars, contemplative. “The Demons and Seraphim have rituals for binding and tying souls. Binding is strictly for matrimony, but tying has a very similar effect.”

  “What is that? How would that help? What would need to be done?”

  “By binding the half-breed’s soul to a human’s she would have another anchor in her humanity. She could draw strength from her Tie when her battle with the Dark One rages.”

  Nanan nodded. “Yes, I could be her Tie. I could—”

  “No, you cannot be her Soul Tie. Her Soul Tie must be young and must be a man.” Marie looked at her. “And she must have loved him; otherwise the Tie will not work.”

  Nanan swallowed.

  “Do you know of such a man?”

  Nanan didn’t want to nod, but found her head tilting forward.

  “Good. That is what must be done. Be warned, if the half-breed draws too much energy and power from her Tie, her host may not survive. Or just as the human soul is potent, the supernatural is a heavy weight to bear for a human.” Marie Laveau’s eyes fluttered shut and Nanan could see her eyes moving rapidly under her lids. Nanan was barely breathing...the
human may not survive?

  Marie’s eyes snapped open and she reached her hand to Nanan’s neck and the pulse that throbbed there. As her touch grazed Nanan’s neck, Nanan saw images blaze alive in her mind—runes, shapes, candles, the chants. Nanan gasped in a short breath.

  “It is what must be done, child. There needs to be a human tether to the half-breed’s soul. It is the only chance we have to keep our Spirits at peace and our world intact. This. Must. Be. Done. And you must be the one to do it, because now you know the ancestor’s secrets.”

  Marie’s face flickered like fire light and started to dissipate into the shadows.

  “Wait! I can’t—” Nanan pleaded, reaching for the shadow.

  “You must.” And just like that, the night turned day, the air normal, and Nanan was left standing on weeds, staring at a blank stone—no chalk or blood left.

  She fell to her knees and then sat back on the edge of the stone floor. Soul Tied? To a man who loved her?

  Nanan thought of Connor’s sweet face. She remembered when she saw him as a baby, then as a toddler, as a happy young boy, and then as a broken young man. She always watched and waited, praying to God, he could be normal, nothing supernatural, and nothing extraordinary; that he could grow up and have his girlfriends, go to college, get married and have a whole mess of kids, and that the gift would never touch him. He deserved more than madness, more than isolation, more than being locked up in an asylum because he could see things that others could not. It had seemed that he would be...even the days that he walked slumped over and caved in didn’t worry Nanan. It was a normal grief, not insanity, not paranormal.

  Then Jade came into her small isolated world, and she wanted to keep her, wanted her in her small old house, because somehow, the petite girl filled it up. When she laughed, Nanan would smile, hearing the tinkling smile of her sister. For a moment, she would reprimand herself; her sister was dead. But Jade was not... Jade was alive and laughing and that would make Nanan smile again. She knew though.