Sacrifice

by Jennifer Quintenz

  “Like you protected Derek?” Royal shifted his eyes to look at me. His words sliced through my heart. The truth was, ever since Seth had escaped through the Seal, a fear had taken hold of my heart. As long as Seth was out there, Royal was vulnerable. I felt goose bumps scattering across my shoulders at the thought, then clenched my fists. Vulnerable just meant we’d have to be extra vigilant.

  Cassie watched us, eyes full of questions. I knew we’d get to answering all of them in the next few hours, but right now, I needed Royal to understand something.

  “Royal. I promise, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

  Royal met my gaze and nodded slowly. We fell into a momentary silence. Then Lucas leaned across the table to catch Royal’s eye.

  “And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she keeps that promise,” said Lucas, his tone every bit as serious as mine had just been.

  Royal glanced at Lucas. His lips twitched. Then he laughed. The sound did more to warm me than the hearth behind us. “See that you do.” After his laughter subsided, Royal actually looked a little cheered.

  The waitress dropped by and we ordered a few quesadillas and sopapillas to share.

  While we waited for our food, Lucas and I filled Cassie—and Royal, as far as the bits he’d never heard before—in on the history of the Guard. We told them about Lilith, and her flight from Eden. About how God had sent three angels—two of whom were now dead—after Lilith to bring her back. And how the war between the Sons of Adam and the Daughters of Lilith had begun when Lilith refused to return to Adam. We told them about the hierarchy of the Guard. How each unit had been operating independently for hundreds of years, but now they were all collecting in our town, ready to defend Earth against the forces of Lilitu who could erupt from the Seal at any moment. We talked until our throats were sore.

  Finally, nearly three hours later, Cassie sat back, satisfied. “Okay. So, what can we do? To help?”

  Of all the questions I’d expected, that wasn’t one of them. Royal and Cassie—seeing my confusion—traded a look.

  “There must be something we can do. I mean, I know we’re not soldiers or super-bad-ass-demon-girls, but seriously.” Cassie looked at me again, getting a little flustered. “You can’t just drop a bomb like that and expect us to go on about our normal lives as if nothing’s changed.”

  “I think that is exactly what they expect,” Royal said, giving me a miffed frown.

  “Royal, you of all people know how dangerous it is to get mixed up in this stuff.” I turned to him, hoping for an ally.

  “I think, knowing what I know now, I’d rather be able to fight than sit back and hope I don’t get caught in the crossfire. You know—again.”

  I cringed, feeling the accusation more acutely than I think Royal intended.

  Royal shifted in his seat. “I don’t think Cassie’s asking you to give her a sword and send her out to face a demon head on.” He glanced at Cassie for confirmation. She nodded. “But we know what’s going on. And we don’t look like the kind of people who’d know what’s going on. So maybe that could be useful. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Yeah.” Cassie met my eyes, waiting for my response.

  I glanced at Lucas, unsure what to say. Lucas shrugged, equally at a loss.

  I sighed. “Okay. We’ll figure out something for you to help with.”

  “Awesome sauce!” Cassie beamed.

  “Something very safe,” I added, frowning. Cassie shrugged, pleased, and picked up the last bit of quesadilla off the plate.

  Now, all I had to do was figure out something for her to do that made her feel like a part of the fight, without actually putting her in harm’s way. Because if there was one lesson I’d learned since joining the Guard it was this: Lilitu don’t care who they hurt. And all of Cassie’s sweet optimism would count for nothing if she ever had to face a Lilitu in a fight.

  The sun had set by the time we left the restaurant. I pulled my jacket closer against the icy gusts of wind. Despite the cold and dark, the Plaza was alive with activity. A few buskers played guitars and sang for passersby. The coffee shop had patio heaters set out, so patrons could sip their coffees or hot chocolates and enjoy the lights of the Plaza. Long strands of small round bulbs were suspended over the street, bathing the cobblestone in a warm glow.

  “What is that?” Lucas squinted his eyes, straining for a better view.

  At the edge of the plaza, a group of young women were handing out flyers to people as they passed. As we drew closer, I recognized a girl with a cute strawberry-blond bob. It was Carrie, Missy’s older sister. She’d been a senior when I was a freshman. Our school paired seniors with groups of freshman that first year as sort of unofficial mentors, and Carrie had been mine.

  I was surprised to see her. I’d thought she’d gone out of state for college.

  Carrie looked up and spotted me. Recognition flashed in her eyes, and she waved us over.

  “Braedyn Murphy, right? Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!” Carrie threw her arm around my shoulders and squeezed.

  “Hi, Carrie. How are you doing?” I smiled, disentangling myself from her grip.

  “So good,” she beamed. Her coat was loosely belted over a shirt—I recognized the logo. It was the shirt baristas wore at the plaza coffee shop. “You have amazing timing. Here. Check this out.” She shoved a flyer in my hand. “We’re meeting tonight after the rally, actually—”

  “Good evening!” Behind Carrie, a charismatic older woman climbed the steps of the gazebo, raising her hands for the crowd’s attention. She was tall and slender, but age and experienced had etched themselves into her skin. Her face, surely once quite beautiful, still shone with a handsome strength. Her hands, though veined, gestured with power and eloquence. “We welcome all who seek empowerment.”

  “Oh, hold on a sec.” Carrie turned to listen to the woman, almost enraptured.

  “For too long, we and our sisters across the world have struggled against the injustice of inequality. Inequality in education. Inequality in the workplace. Inequality in our relationships. And while we have languished as second-class citizens, men have plundered our mother earth, leaving destruction and corruption in their wake.”

  “Should we be here?” Lucas whispered to Royal. I shot him a small smile.

  “It is time for womankind to take back our rights. It is time for us to stand up for our mother earth. It is time for us to reconnect with the first mother. Join us, and embrace the strength of womankind. For we are all her daughters in spirit. Join us on a journey to rediscover the power of Lilith!”

  I felt my jaw drop.

  “Isn’t she awesome?” Carrie turned back to me, beaming. “Hey, I’ve got to hand more of these out. If you want to come tonight and hear more, just let me know.” Carrie hurried off, passing out another handful of flyers to pedestrians who’d stopped to take in the gathering.

  “What the—?” Lucas looked at me, his eyes bulging in shock. Cassie and Royal watched the crowd, disbelief painted across their faces.

  I looked down at the flyer in my hand. Written across the top, in clear, bold letters, it read, Help Us Rebuild Her Temple. It depicted a beautiful woman, with gracefully curved wings arching up behind her. She had a benevolent expression on her face. Beneath the image, was a small caption.

  Lilith, mother of storms, fierce protector of planet Earth.

  I looked up again. All around me, young women, their faces alight with excitement and enthusiasm, passed out flyers to passing women. And at the heart of it, the charismatic old woman watched it all, eyes full of tender concern.

  One thing was for sure; whoever these people were, not one of them had ever met a Daughter of Lilith in the flesh.

  Chapter 4

  Lucas, Cassie, Royal, and I crowded onto the couch in the Guard’s living room. It sighed in resigned protest. Hale had just left to find Thane and Gretchen.

  “Is this a joke?” Dad stared at the flyer in his hands, a dark loo
k gathering on his face.

  “I don’t think so.” I turned to my friends; their eyes mirrored the growing unease I’d felt since we’d fled the gathering in the plaza.

  “I don’t think they know what they’re saying,” Lucas offered.

  “While I appreciate you wanting to give them the benefit of the doubt, we must investigate this further before we can dismiss it as simple asinine foolishness,” Thane said, sweeping into the room. He plucked the flyer out of Dad’s hands. Dad grimaced, but crossed his arms and made no comment.

  Ian, Gretchen, Matt, and Hale entered steps behind Thane. Ian joined Thane by the big bay window at the front of the room. They studied the flyer together, muttering observations to one another too quietly for me to make out.

  Gretchen glanced at the four of us sitting on the couch, her eyebrows hiking up. “Hey, Cassie. Royal. It might be time for you guys to head on home.”

  “They know,” I said. Gretchen turned to look at me, but it was Hale who spoke first.

  “When you say ‘they know,’ I assume you mean—?”

  “You said keeping them in the dark would protect them.” Emotion welled inside me, filling my mouth with a bitter taste. “It didn’t. Royal was attacked by the incubus. Cassie was at the mission when the Seal was opened. If Karayan hadn’t shown up to help me fight, we could have all been killed. I never wanted them to get mixed up in all of this, but the truth is—yes, they know. There’s no going back now.”

  Gretchen tensed. Matt, standing beside her, draped an arm over her shoulder, diffusing her anger. Neither of them looked happy about this.

  Hale looked like he wanted to argue, but one glance at Royal silenced him. He fixed me with a look that said, we’ll discuss this later, then turned toward Ian and Thane. “All right. What are we dealing with here?”

  “Having nothing but this flyer to go on?” Ian shrugged. “It appears someone is founding some kind of group in Puerto Escondido based on some pro-feminist myth of Lilith.”

  “Is this a new thing?” Dad eyed the archivists. “Is there historical precedence for this sort of... group?”

  Thane and Ian exchanged a troubled glance.

  “There were rumors of Lilith worshippers in ancient times,” Ian said, “but there has been no mention of a group celebrating Lilith in modern times, as far as I know.” He turned to Thane, who shook his head in agreement.

  “What about this Temple,” Dad asked. “Does that ring any bells?”

  “Could be figurative. Could be literal. No way to tell without some context. We need more information.” Thane flipped the flyer over, frustrated.

  Dad ran a hand through his hair, a movement I knew all too well; he was deeply troubled. “The Seal was just opened a few weeks ago. This cannot be a coincidence.”

  “I agree.” Hale reached for the flyer and Thane handed it over.

  Matt glanced at Hale. “So, why do you think they’re here? What do they want?”

  “Exactly,” Hale muttered. “Exactly what we need to find out.”

  “Well—” Cassie raised her hand tentatively. The Guard turned to look at her and she licked her lips. “Um, sorry to interrupt, but there is a meeting tonight.”

  “Okay.” Hale pointed at Dad. “Murphy. You and I will go to this meeting and get a lay for the land.”

  “Right.” Dad reached for his coat, ready to leave.

  “Point of interest?” Royal raised his hand, too.

  “This isn’t a classroom,” Gretchen snapped. “You don’t have to raise your hands. Just spit it out.”

  “Well, that group passing out flyers was kind of exclusively women.” Royal eyed Dad and Hale pointedly. “A couple of big burly guys? I’m just thinking you might stand out.”

  “He’s right.” I stood, facing Hale. “I can go.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Cassie said, standing beside me. Her eyes gleamed with an eager anticipation.

  “You know, actually, I think it might make more sense for Gretchen to back me up,” I said. Cassie’s face fell. “Just because we’ve trained together,” I added lamely.

  “Right.” Cassie sat down, staring at her hands in her lap.

  “Where is this thing?” Gretchen asked.

  Hale glanced back at the flyer. His brows drew together. He flipped the flyer over again, looking for something that wasn’t there. “It doesn’t say.”

  “Typical cult behavior,” Thane muttered.

  “Cult? Really? We’re jumping straight to cult?” Dad frowned. Thane shot him a cold glance.

  Ian glanced between the two men, and gave Dad a conciliatory smile. “I think what Thane means is simply that this group is operating from a non-traditional—”

  “What I mean is this group is acting like a cult,” Thane snapped. “They were recruiting members in the plaza, weren’t they? So why pass out flyers without any useful information? Why target the young if not because they’re seeking malleable minds?”

  “I think he just called you a sucker,” Royal murmured to me. That earned a smile from Ian, who did his best to hide the reaction by covering his mouth and giving a fake cough.

  Thane’s eyebrows twitched, betraying his irritation. “If it looks like a cult, and it acts like a cult...” Thane flicked his gaze back to Dad. “They seem particularly interested in shrouding their meetings in secrecy. I’d be willing to wager only initiates will know where the location is. And since none of us are initiates—”

  “Missy’s sister,” I blurted out. “Carrie. She’s the one who gave us the flyer. She said something like, if I wanted to go to the meeting, to let her know.”

  “So give her a call,” Gretchen said.

  “I don’t have her number.” I glanced at Cassie, who was only half listening to the conversation. “Cass? Could you call Missy?”

  Cassie startled out of her reverie and stood up, pulling a cell phone out of her pocket. “Yeah. Just a sec.” Cassie snatched up a pen and an envelope off the living room coffee table. She walked into the foyer, dialing her phone. The Guard waited in silence as Cassie had a quick conversation with Missy. In less than two minutes she returned with a number written on the back of the envelope.

  “Thank you.” I dialed the number on my cell. The line rang once, then went directly to voice mail. “Um, Carrie, it’s Braedyn. Murphy. I was interested in going to that meeting you talked about, but I don’t know where it’s going to be. Could you give me a call back when you get this?” I hung up.

  Thane grimaced. “If the meeting is tonight, we don’t have much time.”

  “Short of waiting for Carrie to call us back, I’m not sure exactly what we can do,” said Dad.

  “Get back to the plaza,” Thane growled. “Try to catch her before the end of their little rally.”

  “Wait.” I straightened, remembering Carrie’s shirt. “I think she works at the plaza coffee shop. If the rally’s over, we might be able to catch her there before the meeting tonight.”

  Hale nodded. “Okay. Go. Keep us updated.”

  “You got it, boss.” Gretchen grabbed her jacket from where she’d tossed it over the back of a chair. Matt caught her hand and she turned toward him.

  “Be careful.”

  “It’s me,” Gretchen said with a winning smile. She turned and strode for the foyer.

  “Braedyn.” Dad caught my shoulder as I turned to follow Gretchen out. “Reconnaissance only. Keep your head down.”

  I gave Dad a quick kiss, then hurried after Gretchen.

  Gretchen drove us down to Old Town in her ancient little car. It didn’t have anywhere near the power my Firebird did, and I found myself twitching with impatience. I had to clasp my hands together to keep my fingers from drumming on the passenger door.

  She parked a block away from the plaza, unwilling to fight for a spot closer to the popular shops. We sprinted into the plaza, but as soon as we hit the edge of the cobblestone walk I could see the rally had ended.

  “The coffee shop,” I said, pulling Gretchen al
ong with me. “Maybe Carrie’s still at work.” Gretchen followed me through the plaza to the coffee shop. Most of the tables outside were empty now. Even with the patio heaters it was too cold to sit out here comfortably.

  But inside, the coffee shop was warm and cozy. We closed the door behind us before the icy evening air could follow us in. The rich aroma of coffee and hot chocolate was as comforting as a blanket. I scanned the shop, looking for Carrie’s distinctive strawberry-blond bob.

  “Do you see her?” Gretchen—who’d never seen Carrie before—watched me closely.

  “No.” I turned, making another pass over the faces in the coffee shop. Carrie wasn’t behind the coffee bar, not that I could see. And she wasn’t sitting at one of the crowded tables, or—

  I grabbed Gretchen’s arm. “There. Those girls.” I indicated a table as discretely as I could. Gretchen glanced over at it. Three college-aged girls were drinking coffee, sitting at a table. “I’m pretty sure they were at the rally, passing out flyers,” I whispered.

  “Okay. If your friend doesn’t show up, we can follow them.”

  “No need.” I spotted Carrie exiting from the back of the coffee shop. She’d changed out of her barista uniform, and was pulling her winter coat on over a cute indigo-blue shirt. She stopped by the table, and one of the other girls stood, embracing her. Carrie held up a finger, gesturing for a second. She pulled a small gadget out of her coat pocket and touched it to the tip of her finger, wincing slightly. Testing her blood sugar, I realized. Carrie had been born with diabetes; it was a part of her life but she didn’t let it define her. Satisfied with the results, Carrie slipped the gadget back into her pocket and clapped her hands with excitement.

  The other girls downed the last of their coffees and gathered their things. I pulled my phone out and sent a quick text to Dad and Hale; we found them.

  “They’re on the move,” Gretchen said. “Do your thing.”

  My phone buzzed. I thumbed it on and read Dad’s response: Be careful.