by Trina M. Lee
I reached over my shoulder to touch the handle of the Midnight Star, finding comfort in its presence. Not that it would be much help. It’d have to be a battle to the death for me to use it on a human.
My tread felt heavy. As I dragged myself after him, I studied the house. The windows were covered in thick drapes, but a dim light shone from inside. The biting winter night felt especially chilly in the onslaught of apprehension.
Arrow hit the doorbell and I tensed. My mind conjured up images of witches from children’s stories: long scraggly hair and sharp hawk-like noses, beady eyes that penetrated the soul. So I was mildly surprised when a thirty-something blonde with a cute bob and trendy attire opened the door.
She beamed a brilliant smile at us and opened the door wide. She didn’t even falter upon taking in the sight of Arrow’s battered face. “I was just about to turn out the light for the night. You made it just in time. My name is Fiona. It’s lovely to meet you.”
She offered a hand to each of us as we entered. Briefly her gaze seemed to flicker over the sword on my back. A sword that should have been invisible to the human eye.
“Arrow,” he said, taking the lead, which was fine with me since I’d been momentarily struck speechless. “This is Spike.”
The interior of the house didn’t match the exterior. Hardwood floors greeted us. For some reason I’d expected shag carpet. To the left lay a small kitchen, the counter cluttered with bakeware. Fiona ushered us into a sitting room to the right. It was tiny. Cozy really.
A mirror framed in gold reflected Arrow and me back at myself. Shadows cloaked his reflection like mist. The faint outline of wings rimmed in fire floated behind mine. I almost stumbled over a cat as I stared in shock. The black feline gave me the stink eye as I plopped down in a fluffy purple chair next to Arrow.
Fiona sat across from us and lightly ran her finger over the back of a deck of tarot cards. “What brings you here?” she asked, her gaze darting between the two of us. “I offer palm readings, tarot readings, and I even read tea leaves.” She waited for our response with a pleasant yet plastic smile. It seemed plastered in place, like she’d played this role all her life.
Letting Arrow field the question, my gaze slowly traveled around the room. We sat at a table laden with stones, skulls, and the classic crystal ball. Various masks, carvings, and paintings adorned the walls.
“A tarot reading, I guess,” he volunteered. “Tell me all about my future. I’m expecting fame and fortune.”
“You and the rest of the world.” Fiona laughed, picking up the tarot deck. “I can’t make any promises. There’s no money-back guarantees. How about we do a basic three-card spread? Past, present, and future.”
Arrow shrugged. “Sure. That works for me.”
I nudged him with an elbow. He wasn’t giving enough fucks to come across as a legit customer. Though I didn’t buy into this tarot stuff, I couldn’t help but be curious as to what the cards would supposedly say about Arrow.
Fiona shuffled the cards. She took her sweet time doing it, allowing me to continue perusing the room. A bookshelf behind her laden with trinkets drew my attention. I scanned it for a black fox statue, finding it right in the middle of the top shelf. Ok, so I’d found it. Simple enough. Now I just had to get it out of here.
After the shuffling had gone on a good while, Fiona offered the deck to Arrow. “Choose three cards. But choose carefully. Go with your gut.”
With a roll of his eyes that I hoped Fiona didn’t catch, Arrow drew his cards. The first two he grabbed quickly, but he hesitated on the third as if unsure. His hand hovered over one, then moved to another. Finally he selected a different card entirely.
“Let’s see what we have here.” Fiona turned over the first card. “The Moon. It’s reversed. Often this means that there is deception here somewhere. You’ve deceived yourself in the past, fallen victim to your own illusions. It’s likely you’ve struggled to keep fantasy and reality separated. That can be dangerous to your mental health.”
Arrow’s expression had softened into nothing. Was this his poker face? Had Fiona said something he didn’t want to hear? I leaned closer to the table to study the card. A moon with a face inside it stared back at me.
“Mental health is overrated.” Arrow waved a hand over the second card. “Next.”
“The Lovers,” Fiona announced, turning the next card. “This card is easily misinterpreted. At first glance it appears to be about love and union when in fact it can symbolize tough choices regarding various paths you may take. Since it’s in the present position though, I’m inclined to believe it represents a newfound love that you yourself may not even be aware of. A temptation of the heart, if you will. It may be a good thing or it may be the opposite. Only time will tell. Trust your instincts.”
Fiona paused, awaiting a reaction from Arrow. When she didn’t get one, she turned to me. I met her gaze and shrugged. In the back of my mind, all I could think about was how we’d get that fox out of here without conflict. I didn’t see it happening. A distract and steal approach might work. It also might backfire.
“Future.” Arrow pointed at the remaining card, having little else to say on what he’d heard so far.
Fiona paused, as if she wanted to say something. After a moment she flipped the card. “The Tower. That’s… potentially bad. Not always though. It can mean some form of upheaval is coming. Something may be taken from you. A loss. But also an enlightening. You will learn from this loss. It will shape you. Change you into who you’re meant to be. The pain of the destruction that awaits you will be worth it.”
Arrow nodded. “Alright then. Not very specific but I’ll take it.”
“We can do another reading if you’d like,” Fiona offered. “More cards. Something more in-depth.” Again her gaze strayed behind me, to where the handle of the Midnight Star rested just above my right shoulder.
Could she see it? I tensed.
“How about tea leaves?” Arrow reached out a hand toward the cat who eyed him with disdain. “Can we try that?”
“Of course.” Fiona rose and headed for the kitchen. “What kind would you like? I have oolong, green, black, white.”
“Um, green I guess.”
After she left the room I poked Arrow and pointed to the fox. He motioned for me to grab it. Nerves gripped me. Sweat broke out on my brow. Ignoring the suspicious stare of the cat who sat in the middle of the room watching us, I stood up. Taking careful, quiet steps, I moved with as much stealth as I could manage wearing heavy boots on a wood floor. Shag carpeting sure would’ve come in handy.
I reached the shelf and had to stand on my toes to reach the fox.
Being taller than me, Arrow should’ve been the one attempting to quietly swipe the statue. Instead of helping he kept trying to entice the cat over.
My fingertips had just brushed the cool, smooth onyx when Fiona appeared. Shit.
“I’m out of green tea. Is white—What are you doing?”
I froze. Turning toward her, I cursed inwardly. “It’s just so beautiful. I wanted to touch it. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Fiona stood there blinking fast. She took a step back and pinned me with a wary once over. “What are you really doing here? You didn’t come for a reading, did you?”
“Screw it, Spike,” Arrow broke in. “Grab the fox.”
Because I didn’t know what else to do, I did what he said. Snatching the fox from the shelf, I clutched it tight. Fiona appeared both afraid and angry. Her eyes widened and she tensed. “You can’t just walk in here and help yourself. That’s mine.” She attempted to grab the fox from me.
I shoved her with my free hand. “No, it’s not.” I held my arm out to ward her off. “I’m sorry but I need this. We’ll pay for the tarot reading and go.”
Arrow fished his wallet out of his tight pants and tossed a hundred on the table. “Thanks for telling me nothing but horrible shit. I hope this covers it.”
Fiona’s cat darted from
the room as she lunged toward me again. Hands outstretched, she uttered Latin. With the heel of my palm, I struck her in the jaw, cutting off her spell casting. A physical altercation hadn’t been on the agenda. Kicking her ass didn’t feel right.
“I know who you are,” she barked, surprising me. Holding her jaw, she pointed a finger at me. No not me. At the Midnight Star. “Flame bearer. You possess the Midnight Star, but do you know what else you have there?”
Baffled, I gaped at her. “What are you talking about?”
“The stone in the sword. Do you have any idea what it is?” She kept her distance but blocked our exit.
“An amethyst?” My ignorance sounded profound and I cringed. Cinder had said nothing about the stone itself.
Fiona laughed, a derogatory sound reserved for mocking the stupid. “It’s more than your typical gift-shop amethyst. Give me back the fox and I’ll tell you.”
“You’re lying.” Still confused as to how she could see the sword at all, I refused to play along. “The fox isn’t yours to keep. We were sent to retrieve it. We’re leaving. You need to back off. Nobody needs to get hurt.”
She glanced about the room as if searching for something to use as a weapon. I noticed the heavy ceramic sugar skull on a side table near the doorway right as she went for it. Before she could smash me in the head with the skull, Arrow flung out a hand, effectively paralyzing her in place. Shoving her aside, we rushed toward the door.
Struggling to move, Fiona ground out between clenched teeth, “It’s an angel stone. It will get you killed.”
Curiosity got the better of me, and I skidded to a stop. It could’ve been a lie, a ploy. My gut told me otherwise.
“Keep talking.” I pulled away when Arrow grabbed my arm and jerked me toward the door.
“Don’t listen to this shit, Spike,” he admonished. “It’s a fucking lie.”
“No, it’s not,” Fiona replied with a huff. “I’ve dedicated my life to studying these artifacts. You think I don’t know the history of that fox? Damn right I do. That and a whole lot more.” The freeze wore off, and she shook out her limbs but made no move to come after us. With a pleading hand, she begged me to listen.
“Then you know we have to take the damn thing,” Arrow retorted, having no patience for further discussion.
Ignoring him, Fiona focused on me. “I’ll tell you about the stone in your sword if you promise to leave the fox. It holds sentimental value.”
Unable and unwilling to make any such promise, I gripped the fox a little tighter. “I’ll consider it, depending on what you tell me about the stone.” Extending my free hand, I let a flame flutter to life in my palm. “Try another spell and I’ll throw this in your face.” It wasn’t in my nature to be so nasty without cause, but she didn’t give me much choice. I needed to get out of here without a violent showdown.
“The twelve stones of the breastplate of Aaron.” Fiona rushed on, talking fast, trying to keep me planted. “They were spread out among twelve angels for protection before being given to the chosen, those with the power to banish the demons. The demons have sought the stones ever since. They’ve managed to get their hands on three so far. Each stone is different. Special. And you’ve got one of them.”
I didn’t believe her. How could I? Cinder would have told me such a thing before letting me run around in front of demons with it. Right?
Speechless, I looked to Arrow who wore an expression as skeptical as I felt.
“Bullshit,” he retorted. “Why would you expect us to believe this crap? And how would you even recognize one of these stones just by looking at it?”
“Because I’ve seen one other. When I was a child. I never forgot the way it shimmered. Like nothing else I’d ever seen. The same way your amethyst does. Can you not see it?” As if confused Fiona took a tentative step forward. She jerked to a stop when Arrow raised a hand filled with shadows.
I was torn. She had to be full of shit. Yet some little niggling part of me suspected truth in her words.
“The amethyst is a special stone.” Taking my silence as opportunity, Fiona went on. “It’s a symbol of royalty, believed by many to provide spiritual protection and the stillness of one’s thoughts when they go astray. Among other things. Whomever entrusted it to you must care a great deal for you, and clearly they know you’re chosen.”
“Lies.” Arrow sounded bored, like none of this meant a damn thing to him. “If you’re not up to giving us anymore trouble, we’ll just be going.”
This time I didn’t stop him when he grabbed me. His hand caught mine, and he pulled me gently but firmly to the front door.
“Wait,” Fiona cried. “The fox. Please don’t take it.”
Overwhelmed but sympathetic to her pleas, I shrugged and gave a sad shake of my head. “I’m sorry.”
Outside the cold stole my breath. I let Arrow lead me back to the car, oblivious to his hand gripping mine ever tighter until we reached the BMW.
I rubbed my hands together, feeling the sudden absence of his warmth. My mind raced as the engine roared to life. I slipped the Midnight Star off my back and tucked it in beside me as I dropped into the passenger seat. With a hesitant finger, I probed the amethyst nestled between the wings adorning either side of the handle. It was a square-cut stone turned sideways to make a diamond shape. Over and over I traced it, oblivious to anything but staring into the center of it.
“Are you ok, Spike?” Arrow asked after several minutes of driving in silence. “You don’t believe that shit, do you?”
Did I?
“I need to talk to Cinder.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cinder was waiting at my apartment when we arrived. The delectable aroma of freshly baked cookies only mildly enticed. Too preoccupied to have an appetite, I sniffed toward the cookie tray cooling on the stove top and sighed.
“You needed to see me?” Cinder inquired with a raise of his scarred eyebrow. “I felt your urgency. Did everything not go as planned?”
I produced the onyx fox from my bag and held it out to him. No sooner had he touched it than it disappeared. “Well, I got the fox. And a little more than I bargained for in the information department.”
Arrow pushed by me and helped himself to my fridge, rummaging around for the beer shoved in the back. Staying quiet, he popped off the cap and leaned against the counter, watching our exchange.
“The woman you sent us to, the fortune teller, she recognized the Midnight Star. More to the point, she recognized the stone in the handle. At least, she said she did.” I watched for his reaction.
The angel had the best damn poker face I’d ever seen. He finished giving the counter a wipe down and tossed the cloth beside the sink. Holding a hand out toward the kitchen table he said, “We should sit down.”
My heart sank. That statement was as good as an admittance that Fiona hadn’t been bullshitting me after all.
Propping the sword in the corner beside the table, I plunked heavily into a chair. Cinder, moving silently, sat across from me. Arrow remained in the kitchen drinking beer.
“Now,” Cinder began after it became clear Arrow had no interest in joining us. “Tell me what she said.”
I repeated the encounter we had with Fiona, including the tarot reading. It didn’t seem like something worth hiding. Cinder slid a frowny-faced glance at Arrow who shrugged, unmoved. When he didn’t stop me to question the reading further, I continued.
“The freaking breastplate of the high priest.” My voice took on a shrill note. “Tell me that’s not true, Cinder.”
He clasped his hands, lacing his fingers together. In a pondering pose, he regarded me thoughtfully with those enchanting violet eyes. Now came the part where he told me the opposite of what I wanted to hear. I braced for it.
“It is true.” Boom. There it was. Cinder gave a slight shake of his head, perplexed. “I can’t imagine how she’d know such a thing, although I don’t know the keepers of every stone. They were handed out in secret. It was safer
that way.”
Arrow’s harsh bark of laughter drew our attention. “For fucking real? This shit is real, and you’re letting Spike walk around with that thing? You’re going to get her killed.”
“Quite the contrary.” Cinder didn’t rise to Arrow’s blatant assholery. “The stone protects its keeper. It can’t be taken from Spike. She must surrender it. That’s the only way a demon, or anyone else for that matter, can obtain it.”
That didn’t sound quite so bad then. I began to relax. “So why me? Why do I have it? She said the stones go to the chosen. I’m assuming you are its angelic keeper.”
A faint smile played about Cinder’s lips. “In earlier ages the amethyst was known as the Gem of Fire. It only made sense that this particular stone would belong to the flame bearer of each generation. You, currently. Yes, I was the angelic keeper. And you, Ember, are one of the chosen.”
“But what does that mean?” My question breathy, I could barely get the words out.
“It means that a time will come when your power will flourish. Then you will be called to your position as an enforcer, one able to banish demons with relative ease.” Quirking his scarred brow at me, Cinder smiled. “What did you think I’ve been training you for all these years?”
I hadn’t considered it beyond skill training for self-defense. “Because I’m the flame bearer? The one who will lead nephilim out of the darkness?”
Cinder’s smile slowly faded. He studied me with something like a mix of pride and disquiet. “Among other things. There is so much more to you than you yet realize, Ember.”
“Rock guitarist. Web designer. Recovering demon artifacts. Leading this craphead out of the darkness.” I gestured to Arrow with an eye roll. “Sure, why not add on one more thing?”
Cinder remained unfazed. “In this battle there are many roles we all must play when serving the light. You’ll never be asked to do anything you’re not already equipped for.”
Arrow broke in with an unwelcome belch. “So does the stone actually do anything? Or does it just sit there looking pretty?”