Iron Inheritance

by G. R. Fillinger

  His hand remained stretched out slightly, not quite touching mine, seeming to wait for my lead.

  My leg muscles twitched for the jump. If I told him what I was doing, he’d just try to come with me.

  No. He’d try to beat me there.

  I shook my head and inhaled. I had to make it up that mountain myself before more people got hurt, before anyone else sacrificed themselves because of me.

  I swallowed with an effort to find the right words, to keep his lips from uttering the guess his blue eyes had already made. He knew where I was headed, and yet, he wouldn’t say anything. His silent stare promised that he’d be at my side the whole way up, to the end when our last breaths left us and our hands reached for one another like they were now.

  I swallowed and turned one last time to interlock his fingers in mine. The moment our skin touched, a thousand tingles of calm swept through me, and I took my foot down from the ledge. He leaned forward, and I pushed my lips into his. He wrapped his arms around my back and pressed my waist to his. My other hand pressed into his hard chest and clutched his shirt, my only lifeline left in the world. Time ceased with my eyes closed, my body melting into his.

  He pulled back first and set his forehead against mine. “We have to go now if we want any chance of beating the first wave there.”

  Lead weights strapped themselves to my shoulders as if the world had bought more gravity while I was in the circle of Josh’s arms. I understood now why he’d been so unemotional when I told them—he knew what it would lead to, he knew what I’d decide before I did.

  But he can’t come with me. He can’t.

  “Eve?”

  I’d kept my eyes closed, but his voice called them open so sweetly that they couldn’t resist. I looked up, and his face swam into view. It was chiseled and tough and caring and funny and a million other descriptors that could never capture him, who he was becoming to me.

  That’s why you have to do this now. If you care about him—if you care about Ria and Nate and any of them—you have to.

  The little air left in me sighed out. I slung my hands over his neck and pulled him in for one last kiss. His lips were meant for mine, as were his arms, his hands gripping my hips.

  Then I stepped back and wrapped my hands around his wrist and elbow, feeling the joints and sighting the pressure point I’d need to hit below his ear.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered and struck all three points before I could stop myself.

  He drew a sharp breath as his eyes found me in that instant before he blacked out, surprise and betrayal flashing out of them and burrowing into mine.

  My stomach knotted as I laid him down. My tongue dried and took any words of comfort or reason I could utter—even though I had none.

  I stepped to the edge of the roof again. No one else was going to die because of me. No more leading my friends places I knew were traps.

  Procel wanted me, and he was going to get me—my fists, my knees, my elbows.

  I jumped down onto the sidewalk. Nate’s Jeep started right up with the spare key he kept attached to the underside of the frame. The slightly chilled, pre-dawn air whipped through my hair as I got on the freeway.

  I blinked away a tear and wiped it off my cheek roughly. “It’s better this way.” I looked up to see if the sky was showing any signs of light on the horizon.

  Instead, a shadow passed over me—a flurry of black wings a thousand feet above.

  He was starting early.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Any hint of the rising sun smoldered black by the time the tires kicked up dirt and rocks on the road past the observatory. I skidded to a stop just before the fallen tree that had halted us hours ago. A plume of dust enveloped the Jeep.

  I stepped out and looked at the clouded sky above the mountain, straight above the hell mouth. It was a slowly churning gyre of electric bubbling tar. Black flurries oscillated like a school of fish as the center of the ominous cloud pumped more and more energy into its edges. Each full revolution added to its area. It wouldn’t be long until the darkness covered the whole city.

  I ran as fast as I could up the mountainside toward the hell mouth. That’s what seemed to be powering the cloud somehow. That’s where Procel would be.

  Scrub brush and stout trees snagged at my armor the farther up I went, and a high-pitched screech rattled through the air above.

  My heart beat my eardrums mercilessly. I stopped and searched all around for something to swoop down on me.

  It happened slowly.

  A warm, gray mist slipped down through the trees as three funnel clouds spun out of the mother-cloud and reached toward the ground. The wind picked up—sand hit the back of my legs as it was sucked into the tornado.

  I set my jaw and clenched my fists, inhaling deeply as adrenaline coursed into my fingertips and eyes. My vision doubled into both worlds. I still saw the cloud, the funnels, and the mist. But there was more. Darkness dripped down the center of the funnels. A pair of yellow eyes leered at me from afar—distant stars in the ever-reaching cloud pulsating through the sky.

  As if on command, all three of the funnel tips touched the ground at the same time. Instead of adding to the wind though, they stabbed into the earth and began to pump. Flurries of dark essence swirled into the tip of each one, congealing and extruding beasts that made the Gallu look tame.

  The newly formed monsters rolled their heads around curiously when the funnels retracted, bone and muscle snapping into place. Even now, all three of their new bodies continued to form.

  On the left, thousands of serrated yellow teeth stuck out of tar-soaked skin like shards of glass. It had no mouth, eyes, or ears, but every shuddering breath it took wracked the air. I got the distinct feeling that it took more than just smell with it—the whole surrounding area was being sapped of color.

  On the right, brown slime dripped off scaly eyes onto an elongated torso and a thick, writhing tail.

  I shook my head, thinking of Nate. “Had to be a snake.”

  In the center, talons, wings, bleeding red eyes, and dragon’s hide. Its face elongated into an obsidian beak, and it exhaled a fine green mist that floated down and burned a patch of weeds to ash.

  I backed away a half step. “Ok. Snakes don’t seem so bad all of a sudden.”

  They all waited, not even looking at me, bodies still twitching, heads lolling around and around, taking in their surroundings with new senses.

  Fear-fed adrenaline pushed through my veins and threatened to make all my muscles seize in anticipation. What was Procel’s plan now? Kill me before I could get to him?

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, waiting for them to make a move. I could take them. “If I’m really a Blood Nephilim, this should be easy, right?” I whispered. “Even if I only have one true talent to help me.”

  Green mist floated to the ground again and charred the dirt black.

  “That healing talent sure would be nice right now, though.” I clenched my fists and took a careful step forward. “Unless I can just go around them?”

  Mr. Poison Mist locked his red eyes on mine, and the other two stopped moving as if by telepathic command.

  “Crap.”

  The snake hissed and fell forward onto its belly, slithering toward me with more speed than it should have been capable of.

  I barely dodged to the side in time, instantly looking down for anything to use to keep me from having to actually touch these things.

  I ducked and palmed a boulder the size of my head, then instantly swung my arm around and flung the rock at the massive snake’s scaly brown eyes as it rounded on me a second time.

  The boulder crushed the top of its skull with a snap of bone ringing through the air. The moment the last hiss wheezed out of its lungs, it collapsed into a million pieces of ash that fluttered back up to the sky.

  I stopped and watched them fly away. “Huh. That’s different.”

  Then the air behind me rattled as it was sucked over tar-co
vered vocal cords. Before I could turn around, it pinned my arms to my sides with half inch incisors stabbing into the skin not protected by armor. The tar-and-tooth fiend forced me into its chest and then fell backward.

  The impact sent thousands of bone shards into my legs, my neck, and the backs of my arms. I opened my mouth in a silent scream as I gasped for air. Then, all at once, I saw every bit of essence without trying. The pain didn’t focus it—I didn’t even have to try—it was more of a coolness seeping into my skin. It was so soothing, relaxing. Green and orange and pink and brown streams of color flowed out of the surrounding earth, though it was muted quite a bit by the giant rotating cloud in the sky. The only thing that seemed to overpower everything, to put all other color of light or dark to shame, was an effervescent silver stream of glitter. It floated down from the top of the mountain.

  I’d seen that before…Where?

  My captor exhaled loudly and pressed my head up so I couldn’t see the silver anymore. Instead, the third beast filled my vision. Every step toward me splashed dark essence into its bulging legs. Everything was more essence than physical now—all of it light and dark.

  More teeth jammed into my side, and I adjusted my eyes easily—the difference between up close and far away—to see the third beast for real.

  I immediately regretted it.

  The dragon scales stretched and strained like leather. Red eyes stared over an obsidian beak that seemed to smile as puffs of misty green poison evaporated off its breath.

  I strained against my bony shackles, but the teeth dug in deeper. The black beak loomed over me and exhaled. Bright green poison descended slowly toward my chest. I cringed in preparation for the pain to come, for my armor to melt away and the poison to bore a hole through my ribs.

  It didn’t. The mist turned to yellow dust on contact with my armor, leaving only the rotten egg smell of sulfur behind.

  I looked up and smiled. “You’ll have to try better than that.” I gritted my teeth and pulsed my arms and legs out with all of my strength, the bones cutting me an inch deep.

  Talons unsheathed with a metallic swish from the other one still lingering above me, frustration filling its eyes as it watched me writhe around, still alive.

  I rolled onto my stomach and elbowed the tar beast in the head—pain secondary to everything else now. It flipped onto its back long enough for me to get up and kick the dragon-bird. My leg came back scratched and bloody, but the creature fell to the ground.

  I grabbed its leg with both hands and flung it at its tar-soaked brother-in-arms. They collided and toppled over, the bird opening its beak and screeching, its throat vibrating up and down in a call for help until a green strand of light snapped around it.

  “Are you ok?” Nate called, five feet away with his green whip stretched taut. The monster’s talons clawed at the green leash, leaving its hands burned raw.

  My eyes bulged, and my heart rate increased more than it had when the monsters came at me. He shouldn’t be here. He, more than anyone else, wouldn’t let me do what I had to do if it came down to it.

  Nate’s brow furrowed, and the green whip thickened, choking all the life out of the beast. Then, all at once, just as the last bit of life was about to leave it, both beasts disintegrated into a thousand ashen wings and returned to the imposing cloud hovering over us.

  I clenched my jaw and started up the mountain, picking teeth out of my knuckles as I walked. I refocused my eyes to look far away and glimpsed the silver glitter still floating down from the mountaintop.

  I knew I’d seen it somewhere before.

  Nate appeared next to me, easily keeping up with my pace. “I found Josh passed out on the roof.”

  A flutter of guilt crossed my chest.

  “How do you feel? Are you ok?” Nate asked, his eyes wide as he looked at my neck and the back of my arms.

  I stopped at a tree and tried to scrub my knuckles and bare skin on the bark. Every inch of skin that wasn’t under armor was soaked in liquid black tar, or at least its Babylonian equivalent.

  “We have to get you to a Healer.” Nate inhaled quickly, truly panicked now. “That’s the same kind of dark essence they shot at me. How are you even standing?” He shook his head.

  I gritted my teeth and stopped trying to scrape it off. I should be done, convulsing and sputtering like Nate had in the back of the Jeep. “Perks of the Blood Nephilim?”

  Nate dropped his eyes to the dirt. “I still can’t believe it. I can’t.” He shook his head again. “How could Sol not tell me about this?”

  “Tell you?”

  “Both of us.” He looked at the black tar on my skin and swallowed hard.

  “You think he knew?” I looked at the tar too, the coolness that allowed me to see every bit of essence the world had to offer sticking with me. Maybe the dark essence was the reason for that?

  “I’d bet he even knew Uriel was your father.” He sighed, more downcast than I’d ever seen him. “He talked about him once—Uriel—said he’d met him. I just laughed it off.” He shook his head. “I haven’t even met him.”

  I shrugged, unconcerned for now—impending death doing a lot to focus my priorities. Finding out not only that I was a Blood Nephilim, but also that my dad might be an archangel and that a Fallen wanted me so he could use some kind of Blood Nephilim super-weapons called the Keys to Creation—what a name—was a bit much for anyone to take. “Come on.” I nodded to the sky where small swirls in the black cloud threatened funnel clouds again. “Before they come back.”

  Nate’s fingers wrapped around my arm for an instant then let go. “Ow.” He waved his hand back and forth like I’d burned him.

  “Guess you’re finally going to learn I don’t like being dragged by my arm, huh?” I said half-heartedly, making my way up the mountain unimpeded now that he couldn’t stop me. The silver glitter seemed to retreat with every step I took. Every time I reached out my hand, it backed away.

  “Eve.” Nate appeared in front of me as I reached out for the glitter again. My palm hit his chest, the center of his green essence, and a pulse of electricity snapped from my fingertips into my heart.

  Fish in an open air market. Canvas awnings swaying from wooden posts. Tunics. Nate. A woman with caramel hair.

  Fire.

  “Eve!” Nate shouted, his voice calling me back out.

  I opened my eyes and saw my hand still on his chest, the blue flames around my hand reaching inside to Nate’s essence.

  I swallowed and took my hand away, looking at his eyes. “Sometimes I forget just how old you are.”

  His eyes softened. “You saw. It was the same memory when you projected. I could feel you poking around in there, but I figured you’d forgotten.” His cheeks turned as red as his hair.

  I shifted my feet in the dirt, embarrassed. “Who was she?”

  “She died a long time ago.” He paused and swallowed again, his eyes hardening. “We need to regroup if this is going to work.”

  I sidestepped him and marched straight up the hill, no zig-zag pattern to lessen the strain on my legs. “If I don’t go, how many others are going to get hurt? Some of them are probably already here.”

  As if on command, five horns honked at the base of the mountain, their lights flashing up through the brush.

  “Please tell me Ria’s not in one of those.” I turned on Nate, a lead weight dropping into my stomach.

  His jaw tightened. “You know her—never listens.” He raised an eyebrow pointedly. “Come on, we can do this together. You lure him to the hell mouth, and I’ll get him in.”

  A flutter of panic swept through my chest at the look in his eye—he wouldn’t leave my side no matter what.

  That was a problem.

  “First, no. Second, how do you expect to ‘get him in?’” I asked. We were nearly at the top now. “Going to trip him or something?”

  “Angels rarely walk if they don’t have to.” He narrowed his eyes at the precipice. “And Blood Nephilim or not, I’m
still your Guardian. I’ll lay down my life before he gets to you.” He marched ahead without waiting.

  My heart seized as my imagination created an image of his dead body. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to avoid!”

  I hit flat ground sooner than I thought I would. The small grove of dead black sticks that had once been trees stood rooted to the earth with long, gnarled branches stretching out at odd angles. It hadn’t changed since the last time I’d seen it. The meteorite’s scar lay untouched in the center of the grove, ending in a crater and a two-foot, unassuming hole. The only sign that it was more than that was the steady stream of dust that worked its way to the edge of the pitch black chasm and disappeared.

  I walked through the grove and approached the hole. Lightning flashed above it—the center of the spinning gyre perfectly aligned with the hell mouth as if it were a power outlet. The cloud stretched for miles, and for the first time, I really believed Procel. He’d kill everyone if I didn’t go with him, if I didn’t join him.

  I clenched my fingers into clammy palms—more sweaty than usual. I looked down and saw my hands drip black liquid onto the ground. My skin was pushing out the tar-like essence on its own now, and the more it did, the more the spiritual world disappeared. Nate’s green essence blurred into his armor, and the silver glitter that continually remained out of my grasp stretched away toward the far end of the grove before it disappeared from my sight entirely.

  A bolt of lightning flashed and struck the ground around the hell mouth, the edges falling away in fiery, cracked chunks as thunder rumbled under my feet. I gaped at the ground and spread my arms to keep upright. What would happen if this whole mountain was a hell mouth?

  I bumped Nate’s shoulder as I took several steps back and the thunder stopped.

  “Just stay by my side,” Nate whispered.

  I glanced at him, some weak, shameful part of me glad he was here.

  A dark figured stepped down from the cloud above, shadowed stairs appearing under his feet as he walked. The darkness in his body writhed and twisted as if struggling to take shape. Individual currents of electricity crackled around him. Five feet from the ground, pale skin grew over his whole body—scars criss-crossing every inch. He’d dispensed with every bit of his previous suit of armor except for the pants. Fresh red scars sliced his shirtless gray chest, and a maniacal grin split scabbed lips.