The Heksatese had a reputation for being a neutral force in Judea, indifferent to the nation’s ever-changing spiritual landscape. Up until the Crucifixion, the Heksatese viewed Jesus the Nazarene as nothing more than a false messiah. That is, until the moon appeared to witness Christ’s ascension.
When Jesus drew his last breath at Golgotha, an eclipse occurred, signifying to the Heksatese there was more to be learned from this crucified prophet. So they followed his Apostles and, in time, grew to realize the Apostles’ divine presence improved on their sorcery as much as the presence of the moon. The Heksatese had stumbled upon a new source of magic: the Afterliving’s Disciples. This meant they no longer needed the moon to conjure power — more Disciples meant more magic — and the only way for the Heksatese to further their strength was to maximize Christ’s energy on earth. To do that, they needed to expand the Afterliving. So they presented the Apostles with a deal.
The burgeoning threat of Lycains and Jewish zealots meant the Afterliving was in desperate need of allies to corroborate the saving power of Jesus. The Heksatese vowed to be that ally in exchange for protection from the Afterliving’s enemies, to which the Apostles agreed. Within the span of a century, Christianity was born.
The Heksatese continued to grow in their abilities by adding to the number of sired Disciples, but they refrained from converting themselves. A finite life of magic was more precious to them than an everlasting life without it.
Not everyone in Judea was receptive to the Heksatese’s Christian message. To remedy this, the Heksatese manipulated the Word, incorporating the region’s pagan rituals into Afterliving doctrine — from moving the day of the Sabbath to aligning the birth of Jesus with the feast of Sol Invictus. They hoped these changes would make Christianity more appealing to transitioning pagan worshippers, but in doing so, the Heksatese tainted the Afterliving’s message and weakened the Apostles’ credibility. And the greedier they became, the blacker their magic grew, prompting the Apostles to uncover the Heksatese’s self-serving agenda.
The Apostles had no choice but to leave the Church and denounce the notion of “Christianity” established by their former allies, but by then, it was too late. The damage to Christ’s reputation had been done, and this adulterated concept of the Afterliving spread like wildfire across the Roman Empire. The rest is history.
“So everything the Living knows about Christianity is false?”
James laughs. “Not everything. But I wouldn’t call it true, either.”
“What happened to them, the Heksatese?”
“After the Apostles severed ties, it left the Heksatese vulnerable to enemies of the Church. So they disbanded and went into hiding, surrendering control of Christianity to the Living at the Council of Nicea. But descendants of the Heksatese are alive and well, and they continue to fuel their magic with the spirit of Disciples and vampires. We call them Conduits, known to you as witches.”
“Witches? Witches created Christianity?”
James smiles and nods. “And wherever we are, they always follow.” James points to the camera behind the register. “They keep watch over us with those. They’re called channels. That’s where CCTV gets its name: Conduit Channel Television. They tend to activate if we use our talents.”
That explains the light turquoise ring, the electric “eye” that’s been following me these last couple of days. It’s a Conduit channel. “I think I’m being tracked.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The day of my father’s funeral, I was at a Pret, and one of the cameras — one of the channels — lit up like an eye. Then I saw it again, at the airport, after I left my mother on the plane. It followed me all the way to the exit — the same one. Should I be worried?”
He shakes his head. “Conduits need us, Manny, to fuel their powers. They’re more parasitic than perilous. But it is rather curious. Would you be willing to try an experiment?”
“Sure.”
James scans the room, then whispers, “I want you to echo.”
“You want me to echo? Here?”
“Yes. But don’t echo with words. Echo with sound. It’s less conspicuous.”
“How do you echo with sound?”
“It’s simple. Use your vocal chords to hum, then use your diaphragm” — James pats his gut — “to push that note up to your mind and out to me. Like this.” He demonstrates, humming a solid note with his mouth, then with his eyes. “Have a go.”
I hum, but the sound dies in transition to my head.
“Use your diaphragm,” he repeats. “Sing from your mind.”
“Okay.” I try again, holding the note for as long as I can. Then I push from below, carrying the sound higher, and higher, until it rattles my brain.
James beams with pride. “Excellent. And that was well below Lycain range, too.” He looks over my shoulder at the blank channel behind the register. “Can you go higher?”
“I can try.” I take a breath and raise the pitch of my hum, holding the note until my diaphragm pushes out a similar-sounding echo.
James points to the camera. “Now look.” The channel is bright with color, bearing a green eye. “Is that the one?”
“No. The other eye was turquoise. Like Micah’s, only lighter.”
“Hmm.” James surveys the restaurant once more, and the sidewalk beyond the glass window. “Echo higher.”
“Higher? But what if a Lycain hears me?”
James scoffs. “I can phasm you out of here in no time. Besides, you need the practice.”
“Okay. If you say so.” I choose a pitch higher than the last, and as I’m pushing the note into my mind, there’s a split second of voice-echo overlap. James flinches as my mouth emits a sharp whistling noise.
Crash! The giant glass window of Burrito Mas shatters into thousands of tiny pieces. Customers scream and duck beneath the tables, myself included, and the channel behind the register glows a bright turquoise.
“Now you’ve done it,” James says. He grabs my arm, pulling me into a phasming whirlwind of motion and color.
My stomach lurches, and the next thing I know, I’m back inside the Phantom. “What just happened?”
James revs the engine and pulls out of the parking spot. “You synced to every Disciple, vampire, and Lycain within a ten-kilometer radius,” he replies. “And you’ve also cost the owners of Burrito Mas a hefty sum of money.”
“I broke the window?”
“Yes. I told you syncing was tricky. But it’s my fault for making you echo higher, so I won’t hold it against you. Well done, by the way.”
“Thanks” — I guess.
We’ve spent the rest of the day keeping a low profile in Hove, practicing low and high frequencies in a public park away from the prying eyes of CCTV. James has let me sync a few times — but not words, just sound. He doesn’t want to draw unnecessary attention.
Once I’ve learned how to create echoes, James’ next lesson is on how to stop them. This is where my other abilities come into play.
“Remember, Manny, for all new Daemons and Disciples, echoing is the body’s default way of displacing energy. So this time, instead of echoing, I want you to contain that power and focus it toward something else. Like you did when falling from the window.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s why you landed on your feet, because your instinct’s reaction to the stress wasn’t wasted on an echo. It was needed elsewhere. In this case, to ensure your survival from the fall. Do you follow?”
I do, surprisingly. I nod.
“Good. Now, for this exercise, I want you to focus on your skin.”
“My skin?”
“Yes. Specifically, making it harder.”
“Making it harder? Why?”
“Because I’m going to cut it open.” James fans his fingers out, and his nails grow an ex
tra inch. He grabs my arm with his other hand, preparing to strike.
I pull away, but he doesn’t let go. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”
“No syncing, Manny. Channel that power to your skin.”
“But James — ”
He raises his clawed hand. “To your skin.”
I fight the urge to echo, pulling the energy below my head.
James counts down, tapping my arm with his razor-sharp fingernails after every beat. “One…”
The sensation to echo sinks lower — to my chest — and heat starts to radiate from my heart.
“Two…”
The heat flickers, igniting like a spark.
“Three. Now!” James swipes downward.
I close my eyes and hold my breath, imagining my skin is sheathed in armor. A spark inside my body ignites into an explosion, and though the brush of James’ claws is lethal, the blow is painless.
“You can open your eyes now,” he says, still holding my forearm. “See? Not a scratch on you.”
I examine my skin in disbelief. “Holy crap. I can’t be hurt?”
“No. You weren’t hurt because you were prepared, but you can still be caught by surprise. Don’t worry, though. With time, your reactions get faster. This method of redirecting your power is essentially how a Disciple’s body works. It’s the foundation of utilizing our gifts: better sight, super speed, how high we can jump. It all becomes second nature — instinct — as long as you don’t let the power get away from you.” He taps the side of his head. “Now do you see why I wanted to work on your echoes before anything else?”
It does make a lot more sense now.
“Yoo-hoo.” Lucy appears at the edge of the garden. “What have I missed?”
“Manny finally has a grasp on his echoes,” James replies. “And Michelle?”
“She’s stable, more so now that I’ve managed to convince her Anthony isn’t trying to kill her. And Micah wants to see you, something about destruction of public property?”
James and I exchange glances.
“Do I want to know?” she asks.
“No,” we reply.
“Very well. I can relieve you if you need to go.”
“And Henry?” James inquires.
Lucy looks around. “He’s somewhere dealing with one last two or a five. Who knows? I’ve stopped paying attention for today,” she laughs.
“But he is close by?”
“Yes. We’ll be safe.”
“Good.” James pats my shoulder and shakes my hand. “Sufficient work today, Manny. I’ll see you at the estate.” He makes sure the coast is clear before phasming away.
Lucy smiles. “Did he just pay you a compliment?”
“I think so.”
Her phone rings. She checks the call — “Right on cue” — and picks up: “Yes, Henry? Uh-huh… Of course. I understand. Yes, I’ll authorize it. Keep me updated. Perfect.” She shoves the phone into her pocket and sighs. “It never ends.”
“So I assume Henry’s a Disciple? Otherwise James wouldn’t have left, am I right?”
Lucy answers without really answering. “Henry is somewhat of a security detail. It’s the reason he knows every persnickety detail about my routine. For my protection.”
“That makes more sense now, why you guys are so close.”
“Him being smart, tall, and a former rugby player doesn’t hurt, either,” she adds.
“You remember me saying that, huh?”
“How could I forget? But even if I was swayed by Henry’s desirable attributes, we’d never last as a couple.”
“Why’s that?”
“To begin with, he’s partial to a liquid diet,” she jokes, “whereas I — ”
“Eat like a pig?”
She gasps, slapping my arm. “Manny!”
I jump out of reach. “Seriously, Luce, where is your self-control?” I jeer, using my best Henry accent.
“I have self-control,” she exclaims, chasing after me.
My heart flutters with electricity, and I turn to run. But after several steps, the garden grows still. Why is nothing moving?
No. Wait. I’m moving — ten times faster than everything else. I whip around and catch Lucy mid-jump, her face alive in a way I haven’t seen since we were kids. The longer I stare, the faster she begins to move…until both her feet land on the grass.
Her jaw drops when she sees how far I’ve run in such a short amount of time. “Did you…? Did you just phasm?”
I brace my hands against my knees as my heartbeat steadies. It feels like I’ve been running for miles. “I think so.”
“I didn’t realize James had taught you.”
“He hasn’t,” I exclaim, still panting. “Not directly.”
“Can you do it again?”
“Sure. Give me a minute.” After a few more recovery breaths, I sprint toward a nearby tree. Damn. The phasm speed is gone.
“How did you do it before?”
“I don’t know. It just happened.”
“What were you thinking about?”
I shrug my shoulders. “You, I guess?”
“Me? Hmm.” A smile creeps across her face. “How about a race, then?”
“A race? Okay. Winner buys dinner. In London.”
“London? My, that’s an ambitious prize. Deal.” She lines up next to me. “From here to the edge of the garden. On the count of three, ready? One… Two — ” Lucy takes off running.
“Hey. Not cool.” My heart flutters again, and I chase after her.
Lucy’s body slows to a glacial pace, but I continue running at normal speed, closing the gap between us. Before overtaking her, I pause to admire her childlike expression. I can’t resist. I plant a kiss on her frozen lips.
The spark in my chest explodes like before, propelling me to the edge of the garden, but I don’t stop there. I phasm until I’ve crossed the busy street, stopping at the sidewalk of the next block over.
As time catches up, so does my fatigue.
I watch Lucy reach the end of the garden. She spots me waiting several yards ahead of her. “Show-off!”
I lean back against the block of flats and clutch my aching side. It feels like I’ve been sprinting for hours.
Lucy grows anxious. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” I laugh, fighting the burn of exhaustion in my lungs. “I’m just” — inhale…exhale — “really tired. Gimme a minute.” I pace the entrance of the alley with my hands atop my head, expanding my chest to receive more oxygen.
A noise at the end of the alley catches my attention. It sounds like whimpering — a hurt animal, perhaps? I turn to investigate, walking deeper into the shaded corridor.
“Manny, wait. Don’t leave my sight,” Lucy says over the whiz of passing cars.
I round the corner of the block and find a girl hunched over an injured dog. The animal’s legs tremble as she sobs into its neck, clutching it with both arms. Oh, no. “Is it okay?” I ask.
“Sadly, no.” The girl lifts her head to reveal bloodstained lips and large black pupils. “I’m still famished.”
A man drops down from the rooftops, blocking my route to the street. “I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to see that,” he says. “Jesus, Stephanie. You couldn’t wait until dark? Dusk is minutes away.”
“I’m hungry, Morgan.”
“Well, now we have to kill him.” He turns to me. “You understand, bruv.”
Think fast, Manny. “Wait. No. You don’t.”
Morgan takes a threatening step forward. His gray irises flicker. “I’m afraid so.”
“No, really. Because — I’m like you. I’m a Disciple.” It’s a risky lie to tell, but James did say the only tangible difference between him and me was my mortality and inability to sire.
“Disciple
?” Morgan laughs, looking over my shoulder. “Did you hear that, Steph? He called us Disciples.”
“It’s been ages since anyone’s called us that,” she cackles. “He must be a new Saved.”
“Sorry, bruv, but we stopped believing that sacramental rubbish the second our Sire Bonds were lifted. I suggest you do the same.”
Lucy rounds the corner. “Manny?” She startles at the sight of the two vampires and the dead dog.
“I’ll be right there. Go back to the park.”
Morgan’s eyes light up. “What have we here?”
“She’s with me,” I assert.
“Now, bruv, no need to get greedy.”
“Right. We’ll share her,” Stephanie suggests. “Won’t we, Morgan?” She phasms behind Lucy and pushes her forward, away from street view. “It’s been so long since we’ve had human,” she teases.
Lucy trembles.
“What about Daemon?” I remark. “Ever had Daemon?”
The man licks his lips. “She’s a Daemon?”
“Not her.”
“Manny, don’t,” Lucy cries.
“Me.”
“You?” Morgan replies, incredulous.
Stephanie’s eyes narrow. “Are you yanking our chains?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Only one way to find out, right?”
Morgan and Stephanie grim, salivating at the prospect.
The sight of their fangs ignites the spark within me, and I respond with more confidence. “But you’re gonna have to catch me first.”
“Not a problem, bruv. Not a problem in the least.”
I take one last look at Lucy before phasming away as fast as my Daemon legs can carry me.
The echoes of my pursuers fill the air: ‘Stay on the street. I’ll take to the roof.’
‘He’s fast.’
‘Don’t worry. He’ll tire soon enough.’
I phasm deeper into the maze of alleys, rounding as many corners as I can. When I feel my heart about to burst from exertion, I stop to take shelter in the back doorway of a nearby flat. As before, my body succumbs to unimaginable fatigue. What was I thinking? What the hell was I thinking? Though my lungs scream for air, the phasm recovery isn’t as painful as before. Because my mind is still focused on Lucy — and keeping her safe.
The Afterliving (His Blood & Silver Series Book 1) Page 16