by R.K. Ryals
~Bezaliel~
“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” I asked Marcas crossly half an hour later.
Only thirty minutes into his "training" exercises, and I wasn’t sure I’d make it to the battle tonight. I tried throwing a light ball and ended up sitting on my ass while my "flaming" un-success of a ball snapped off the limb of a nearby olive tree. Marcas proceeded to catch it in mid-air, not with his hands but with his abilities, and throw it at me. Show off. I tried rolling out of the way but it still pinned my leg. I shoved it off and frowned.
“Olive branches are supposed to stand for peace, right?” I asked sarcastically.
Marcas just gestured at me. His desire for me to stand back up was evident. I threw him the bird. I may have been afraid to do it before, but I was pretty sure he couldn’t hurt me more than he already had.
“Will taking my soul hurt less?” I whined as I stood up slowly and groaned.
I was allowed to have an "It’s my party, and I’ll cry if I want to" moment. Marcas moved toward me.
“It’d hurt much, much worse. Imagine having a part of your body waxed. The pain of ripping out your soul is a thousand times more painful than that,” he said candidly. I eyed him suspiciously as he neared.
“You’re not going to start throwing me now, are you?” I asked him guardedly.
Marcas hissed. “You need more control, Blainey."
I had angered him. No surprise there. He moved behind me, and I froze. I honestly couldn’t take another direct hit.
“Why don’t we learn more about protecting yourself and less about attack for the moment,” he said in a low voice.
That didn’t sound so bad. I glanced around us. The grounds of Alessandro’s home were surrounded by olive trees with a vineyard visible in the distance. When I’d asked Marcas where we were he’d said something about hill towns near Rome in Lazio. Maybe Tivoli. He had been vague. Where ever we were, it was secluded and beautiful. The afternoon sun was warm but not overly uncomfortable. I wanted to enjoy it, but the situation was making it impossible.
“What am I supposed to do?” I asked soberly.
His instructions made sense, but my body wasn’t producing the desired results. Marcas placed his hands over my eyes. I tensed.
“You couldn’t show me with another method?” I asked him shortly. The way he stood now reminded me of my father and the dream. I wasn’t happy with it. Marcas didn’t move.
“No, the only way you’re going to learn anything is if you learn to rely on yourself and not your senses."
I grimaced.
“I feel like I’m in an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer,” I said through gritted teeth. Marcas didn’t comment.
“Angels and Demons have very different powers and they all depend on the type of Angel or Demon you are. But one thing remains the same. We tap into our powers the same way. The way you imagined your inner light when you needed to see in the dark is the same way you tap into your powers. That inner light is your power. For a Demon, it’s their inner darkness. By cloaking yourself in the light, you can prevent or cause an attack. It’s not rocket science, Blainey,” Marcas lectured. I stared at the back of his hands. For him it wasn’t.
“Always look for the light, right?” I asked.
The comment wasn’t lost on Marcas. He leaned down until his mouth was directly next to my ear.
“Your father is considered a wise Angel, Blainey. He was teaching you the fundamentals. You just weren’t old enough to understand what he was doing, and you weren’t aware of what you were. The concept is the same,” Marcas whispered. I shivered.
“Close your eyes, Blainey,” he commanded.
I didn’t argue. I didn’t have the energy to. His hands fell away.
“I’m going to attack you now,” he said smoothly. He was whaaaat? I started to open my eyes.
“Eyes stay closed!” Marcas yelled.
I jumped. He sounded quite a few feet away from me now. How’d he move so fast? Why hadn’t I heard it? Attack me? I started looking desperately for my inner light. I pictured it easily, and it moved toward me. In a panic, I grasped it.
“Pay attention to the air around you. Not what you wished you saw, not what you hear, not what you smell. Just the air itself. When you are being attacked, you will feel a buildup of pressure,” Marcas explained.
The air grew tense around me. Was that the buildup?
“As the attacker gathers his resources, the pressure will get steadily stronger."
The air grew so thick, I felt like I was going to choke. Yep, now that was the buildup.
“As the attack happens, you will feel the air release as if a gun has discharged or a slingshot has ejected a stone. Once the ammunition is in the air headed toward you, you can feel its approaching energy. You can track it. As it draws near, use your light to catch it and dispel it away from you,” Marcas ordered.
He didn’t give me time to think about it. As soon as his explanation was finished, I felt the release he’d just described in my body, and I tensed. I knew he’d just sent me his attack. His instruction became immediately clear. I could feel the energy move closer and I strained to recognize its every move. I couldn’t handle another hit right now. My desperation made me let go of everything but the feeling of the approaching danger. Why had he planned an attack for now? The energy came up on me, and I created a shield with my light before dispersing it before me. It just managed to catch the approaching force. I felt something shove against the light hard. I flew backward slightly. My tailbone hit the ground.
“Not bad, Blainey,” Marcas said.
I opened my eyes. There was a black mark on the ground about a foot away from where I’d been standing. My butt felt like it was on fire. Not bad?
“That was good? Am I supposed to end up on my ass each time?” I asked him angrily. I was trying my best not to get discouraged. Marcas stared at me with his ever-calm expression. I wanted to spit in his face.
“That was a killing shot, Blainey,” Marcas said coolly.
I froze. What did he say? Shocked, I stared at him.
“What?” I asked lamely.
He didn’t repeat himself and he didn’t have to. But it would have helped if he had. Killing shot? I took in a deep breath.
“You have that much faith in me?” I asked him suddenly. He didn’t move.
“I have that much faith in your power, Blainey. Remember, there are times when I feel your powers so strongly, I forget they are not my own."
The bond again. He started to walk toward me.
“Need some help?” a familiar voice asked from beside me, and I looked up to find the smiling eyes of Conor Reinhardt. I had just seen him the night before, but it felt like it’d been forever. I cried out happily as he reached down and pulled me up. I hugged him tightly.
“Save some of that for me,” Monroe’s voice said laughingly from behind Conor, and I flew at her. I could see her brother, Ethan, standing some distance away. He smiled slightly at the three of us.
“I heard you were having too much fun without us,” Monroe said teasingly.
I punched her lightly on the arm. Our eyes met and our expressions grew serious.
“How are you?” my eyes asked hers. I knew she’d had to deal with a lot of revelations.
“About as well as you are,” her eyes seemed to answer.
I nodded. I understood the feeling. My backside throbbed, and it reminded me of Marcas. I looked behind me. He was gone.
“He went back into the house,” Ethan Jacobs said as he approached. I looked at him crossly.
“Was it a safe idea to bring everyone here now?” I asked Ethan shakily.
I didn’t want Conor or Monroe to see how hurt I was that Marcas had left without saying anything. Outside the bond, we weren’t even friends.
“Safer than they would be in Rome,” Ethan answered.
I glanced between the two men and Monroe. The battle ahead weighed on me. It didn�
�t help that my friends would be in danger now too.
“What will happen tonight?” I asked quietly.
I assumed Monroe and Conor had been briefed on the drive here. The look on their faces confirmed I was right. Ethan looked at Conor.
“Conor will fight with us. Lexi and Luther have arrived against our wishes to fight with Marcas, and Monroe will work with the Coven,” Ethan said evenly. I looked at Monroe.
“The Coven?”
“We figured the extra power would help,” a voice said from behind me, and I turned to find Mrs. Jacobs standing with three other women and Lita.
The sight was so welcoming that I bit my tongue to keep from shrieking. A coppery taste filled my mouth, but Marcas wasn’t here to chastise me. Tears wet my cheeks as Mrs. Jacobs held open her arms. I went into them. It reminded me of my parents’ funeral.
“I don’t know what’s happened, Dayton. We don’t understand a good deal of what is going on with you, but I made you promise to call me once if you ever needed anything. It looks like you have that need now,” Mrs. Jacobs whispered.
I blinked my eyes to keep from crying more. I pulled away and looked at the brightly dressed woman with an affection I’d once felt for my own mother. She had long blonde hair she kept brushed and unfastened, and she wore a loose-fitting long sleeve red dress that almost resembled a kimono. It definitely represented her quirkiness.
“What have you gotten involved in, sweetheart?” Mrs. Jacobs asked softly as she looked into my face. I knew I looked a mess. Monroe had moved over to her mother’s side and I glanced at her briefly. I had no ready answer. I shrugged.
“A lot of people want Dayton dead. And she’s shacked up with the enemy. Simple as that, Mother,” Ethan said coarsely. I knew he wanted me to give him a reason why, but I couldn’t. Monroe looked at her brother.
“There have been a lot of people and creatures who’ve attempted to kill her since she and I discovered what she was. This isn’t her fault. The Demons fighting with us may be on the wrong side, but they’ve kept us safe up until now. Isn’t it enough that she’s discovered she’s a Naphil that isn’t supposed to exist and who’s being targeted because of it?” Monroe asked sharply.
She moved to my side and Conor moved in behind me. Lita moved next to Monroe. I reached over and took her hand briefly. It meant a lot that she’d traveled with the Coven.
“Jacin?” I asked her softly behind Monroe’s back.
“Holding the fort down back home,” Lita said with a wink.
I smiled and let go of her hand. Ethan looked uncomfortable.
“I’m not attacking Dayton. I just don’t understand why this fight is about her. Why are the Demons gathering now? Why now?” Ethan asked uneasily.
I sympathized with him. He really should know the answer but not until Marcas and I were gone. I looked at the ground. No one answered him.
“What will I need to do during the fight?” I asked lightly. I felt the sudden need to change the subject.
“Stay out of it,” Ethan and Conor said simultaneously. I glared at them both. Mrs. Jacobs placed a hand on her son’s shoulder.
“She can sit in with the Coven. The fact that she’s an Angel may help boost our powers,” She said reasonably. I started to nod.
“She’ll be with me,” a voice said sharply and the entire group looked up to find Marcas, Lexi, and Luther moving in our direction. Marcas’ eyes were dark. I read the message in them. If we got separated, our chances of getting to the carpet plummeted. Ethan took a step forward.
“You’ve committed us to protecting her and now you want to get her killed,” Ethan argued hotly. Marcas’ gaze moved to his.
“With me, she’s less likely to die,” Marcas said with enough menace the threat was evident.
He was warning Ethan to back off. Ethan shook his head. I expected Conor to argue as well, but I suspected he knew something about our plans. The rest of the group remained silent though the expression on Mrs. Jacobs’ face spoke volumes. I understood Marcas’ actions, but I was still mortified.
“Leave us. All of you!” Marcas suddenly ordered. The voices of the group rose in anger. Marcas’ gaze found mine.
“If the Naphil is to have any chance at survival, I’ll need to continue working with her,” Marcas said uncompromisingly. He left no room for argument.
I took a step away from the group. It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. I felt like I was choosing sides. Lexi and Luther took their place at my back.
“I’ll be okay,” I murmured as I looked at my friends in turn. My gaze ended on Mrs. Jacobs.
“He’s not here to hurt me."
I knew it wasn’t much consolation. Her eyes softened.
“I’m not sure I believe that, Dayton, but I’m here to support you in whatever decisions you make. I don’t trust him, but I do trust you,” Mrs. Jacobs said frankly.
I nodded my thanks while fighting hard not to cry. She was misplacing her trust.
"Let’s go. There’s a lot to be done,” Mrs. Jacobs commanded as she moved toward the house. The group trudged along behind her. Conor and Ethan hung back, but Mrs. Jacobs grabbed both men by the arm and dragged them resolutely toward the house. The looks on their faces were priceless. Leave it to her.
“We begin again,” Marcas ordered.
I sighed and turned reluctantly toward the Demons. Lexi and Luther didn’t appear to be going anywhere.
“I need all three of you?” I asked suspiciously.
Lexi’s eyes brightened. That didn’t bode well for me.
“They get to be your enemy army,” Marcas said. Lexi rubbed her hands together.
“This is going to be so much fun,” she said giddily as she moved to flank her brother.
I looked up at Marcas.
“You want me to die, don’t you?” I complained. He didn’t say anything, but Lexi’s voice floated over to me as she and Luther moved across the lawn.
“The pleasure will be all mine,” she sang happily.
I looked up into the sky.
“No doubt about it. I’m going to die.”
Chapter 32
War is a terrible thing fought for terrible reasons. We fight each other knowing the only victor in the end will be death. Those left living are haunted, those who are injured suffer terrible pain, but those who pass on get their moment of peace.